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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de I'angle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 \ii /^v AMS ■y U.. X. IN TWO VOLUMES. Vol. I. IIAEPEa & BR' H; ♦: tiuKKu; •-';?.i' -;.' ■; ]*• ■ '^ .r--;/ ' fit f- / MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX COMPILED BY HIS SON Slltistratclr ^ IN TWO VOLUMES.-V0I. I. NEW YORK HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 1883 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by MORGAN DIX In the OflBcc of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. All rights reserved. ■f/5.f . Pb p5) C M. El. MATHI AMABILI PI^ SUIS DEVOTISSIM^ 8UI8 yiCISSIM CARI88ISLE qVJE P08T ANN08 LI I FELiciTER ct;m makito nobili i:t amante ad finem perdcctos DOUUM INTEKEA PKCDENTEK ORDINAJfS DILIGENTEK GUBERNANS VIRTUTIBUS GRATII8QUE ILLUMINAN3 NUNC VIDUATA INFIRMA DOLORIBUS CREBRI8 APFLICTA NKCNON PATIEN8 SUB TENEBRIS HUJUS MUNDI OUUMBRATIS LUMINIBUS CORPORIS NON ANIMI EX8PECTAT DONEC IN CHRISTO REVIDEAT AMISS03 OPUSCULUM HOC VOTIVUM HEU PA RUM DIGNUM INSCRIBENS DEDICAVIT FILIORUM SOLUS 8UPERSTE8 AMANS nuCUSQUE AMATURU8 IN iETERNUM PREFACE. It is often, if not always, said, by way of general criticism on such a work as this, that a son ought not to undertake to be his father's biographer. The qualities demanded in the historian include strict impartiality, freedom from personal bias, and skill and fearlessness in analyzing his subject ; but these cannot be expected where the inspiring motive of the writer is filial affection, and where the object to be studied is rendered precious in his eyes by the threefold power of the tie of blood, the precept of " the first commandment with promise," and a love and admiration which have gi'own and deepened with each added year. I feel the force of these considerations as I begin my task: they would have put a stop to farther progress had I thought that men differed seri- ously in their estimate of my father's life and work, or that I should have to deal with transactions which, for the honor of the name, I should be compelled to explain or tempted to cover up. But in his case a verdict has already been pro- nounced, which attests the confidence and respect in which he was held by his fellow-countrymen. I know nothing in the record which, if now disclosed for the first time, would be likely to change the judgment of the people, nor do I be- lieve that much diversity of opinion exists among us as to his career in general, or particular matters involving his reputa- vl PREFACE. tion and his honor. These considerations have lessened my rehictanco to attempt the present task ; and since I am urged on every side to do the work myself, and not to intrust it to another hand, there seems to be no alternative but to proceed as best I may. I do not, however, conceal the fact that the inspiring motive of this effort to tell the story of my father's life is that veneration for him which grew with the compan- ionship of more than fifty years, and was stronger than ever when, kneeling by his bedside, 1 closed his dying eyes. There would be no adequate motive to write the history unless I be- lieved tliat it was a noble life, and that they who come after us will be the better for knowing what he did to the glory of Almighty God and the good of his fellow-men, and in the service of a country which he loved with the devotion of a loyal and patriotic heart. My father's eighty years cover a great part of the history of the Republic. Born just before the close of the eighteenth century, ho left us when the nineteenth was far in its last quarter. lie was one of those who formed the link between the period of the Kevolution and that of the final and per- petual consolidation of the American Union. His acts are interwoven with the records of an age of wonderful events and impressive phenomena. His was a life of untiring activ- ity, wherein he served the State with hand and head, with sword and pen, and always ably ; and the proof of the public confidence in him lies in this fact, that he was called to almost every office which a citizen can hold. And while his natural gifts, ample and varied, rendered him competent to meet the requirements of public life, he conducted himself, in each po- sition, in such a manner as to inspire a universal belief in his integrity. Again and again was this common faith in him exhibited in a practical way ; for the reader of this memoir will observe how often, in times of perplexity, when a mere r KEF ACE. y\{ name, with wliat it stood for, might restore a sense of secu- rity, ho was called upon, and set in full view of the people, with the investiture of power and the commission to do what- ever might be necessary ; and how rapidly, at such times, the clouds dispersed. This occurred, not once only, nor twice, but often ; and thereon do I claim for him a place among the purest of patriots, the wisest of counsellors, and the most honest of men. Nor did his patriotism waver even in the darkest hours ; nor can I say that his faith ever failed, though I remember more than one conversation from which I in- ferred that his concern for the future of the commonwealth had led him almost to doubt its ability to overcome the cor- nipting and demoralizing influences that sap the foundations of the State. Meanwhile, amid the cares and duties of a very full life, he found time to pursue certain studies which gave him the reputation of a scholar, and an enviable place in the world of letters. There are departments of literature in which his knowledge was full and critical and his attain- ments were uncommon ; and in this he resembled those great statesmen of the mother country who wear a crown of double honor — men strong in the forum, on the platform, and in the council-chamber, yet happier in those secluded walks where converse is held with the poet, the philosopher, and the sage. But what, after all, were these things, compared with others, to us who lived our life close by his, and were with him from day to day ? We only who were of his house and blood can fully appreciate that personality, that strong individuality, which conFlitutes the chief treasure of our recollections, and has left the impression of a sweet, simple-hearted, tender soul, which loved its own devotedly, and revered God, and won from men a deeper affection as, drawing nearer, they saw what he was. I have no terms to express my feelings on this point ; nor will I attempt to do so, lest this sketch should sud- viii PREFACE. denly lose its liistoric cast, and take the form of another " In Memoriam," laden with vain regrets and longings for the re- turn of one beloved, whose place knoweth him no more. Many years ago we began to urge my father to write his biography. Ilis incessant occupations, however, were an ob- stacle to the task ; he never had time for it. He hardly knew what release from active duty meant; up to within forty- eight hoars of his death he was transacting official business ; he found not the leisure to do what we asked. But when seventy years old he wrote, for our amusement, a little history of his boyhood, covering the first twelve or fifteen years of his life ; and to this he subsequently added a few pages, bring- ing the memoranda down to the year 1820. These fragments I shall now transcribe, precisely as he left them, adding some notes, by way of additional information, on points which he merely touched in passing, convinced that the reader will be glad to have this autograph introduction to what is to come after. But, first, a few words concerning those of his name who preceded him in this country. The family were of English stock, and Puritans. The name of Anthony Dix appears in the Plymouth Records in 1623 ; he was admitted as a freeholder in that town in 1631, and at Salem in 1632. Edward Dix, of "Watertown, admitted freeman 1635, had a son, John, born in 1640 ; he appears to have died July 9, 1660. Hali^h Dix, a descendant, was one of the early settlers of Ipswich. Mass. ; he died at Reading, Sep- tember 24, 1688. His grandson, Jonathan, born at the home- stead in Reading, resided at Littleton, whence he removed to Boscawen, N. II., or, as it was originally called, Contoocook. He was a good man, and for more than seventy-five years a member of the Congregational Church ; he married Sarah, daughter of the Rev. Benjamin Shattuck, of Littleton, Mass. ; PREFACE. IX and died at the residence of liis son Timothy, December 24, 1804, having attained the age of 94 years, 8 months, and 13 days. Timotliy Dix, a native of Littleton, Mass., was a man of some eminence in his day, a patriot and a soldier ; he held a lieutenant's commission in the Eevolutionary War, and raised a company for that service ; he was also postmaster at Boscawen, under President Jefferson's administration. His character is portrayed by contemporaneous chroniclers as that of a man of promptitude and decision, devotedly attached to the cause of his country, firm and jjatient under the many trials of his life; one who, in public as well as in private relations, was remarkable for strict integrity and fidelity to duty. Ilis son, Timothy Dix, Jr., my grandfather, is remem- bered in ISTew Hampshire as an active, enterprising, liberal, and enlightened citizen, distinguished for his courteous bear- ing and honorable character. He held the office of Select- man of the town, and represented it in the State Legislat- ure in the years 1801-'4. In 1812, when the war broke out between Great Britain and the United States, he received a commission in the Tiegular Army, and at the time of his death, which occurred in face of the enemy, at French Mills, Canada East, November 14, 1813, was Lieutenant-colonel of the Fourteenth Eegiment of Infantry. His wife was Abigail Wil- kins, of Amherst ; her lather was a captain in the Provincial Service, and lost his life during the ill-fated expedition of General Richard Montgomery against Quebec. Of these par- ents, and of that honest, God-fearing, and joatriotic stock, on the 24th day of July, a.d. 1798, and in the village of Bos- cawen, in the State of New Hampshire, John Adams Dix was born. I proceed, without more words, to the little history of his earliest years, written by him for the entertainment of his children. r ir.~~ ;> CONTENTS OF VOL. I. I. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. paob Boyhood.— Youth.— Army Life (a.d. 1798-1831) i ir. THE ARMY. Washington.— New York.— Europe (a,d. 1821-1828) G3 III. COOPERSTOWN. Rural Life.— The Law.— Prelude to Political Career Ud 1828-1830) ." ! 83 IV. ALBANY. Adjutant-general.— Secretary of State.— Superintendent of Common Schools.— Member op the Legislature (a d. 1830- ^s^2) : ... 123 V. ABSENCE FROM HOME. Madeira.— Spain.— Italy (a.d. 1842-1844) 173 VI. UNITED STATES SENATE. A.D. 1845-1853 jgg If il Xll CONTENTS. VII. PADS New York— EunoPE (a.d. 1853-1860) 379 VIII. Postmaster of New York.— Secretary of the Treasury (a.d. 1860-1861) 325 ILLUSTRATIONS— VOL. L Jons A. Dix, Secretary of State, Albany, N. Y. (from a Tortrait by James E. Freeman, Painted in 1836) Frontispiece. (SUil Plate.) Catharine M. Dix (from a Portrait by Charles Ingham, in 1836) . faces 160 (Stetl Piatt.) Sketches made During the Ecrofean Tour .... 292, 293, 295 296 297 Pine Street Meeting: Signatures in Fac-simile faces 349 Fac-simile op the Despatch «« 3^0 w i. J if I. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. BOYHOOD.-YOUTH.-ARMY LIFE. A.D. iros-issi. « Boscawcn. — The Ilomcstcad. — School. — Daniel "Webster and Grace Fletcher.— The Village Cemetery.— Eclipse of the Sun in 180G.— First Death in the Family. — Study of English Authors. — Death of his Mother. — The Congregational Meeting-house and the Preacher. — Re- ligious Questions. — The Villagers. — Militia Company. — Drill in a Thunder-storm. — Joe "Wheat, Stage -driver and Musician. — Sent to School at Salisbury. — Dramatic Performances in the Meeting-house: David and Goliath. — Exeter Academy. — Dr. Abbott. — Sparks and Palfrey. — Speech on the War of Troy. — Montreal : the Petit Seminaire. — Thorougli Grounding in Latin and French. — The Good Priests. — 1812: the "War witli England.— Boston.— Dr. George C. Shattuck.— His Father Commissioned in the Fourteenth Regiment United States Infantry. — Enters the Army at Fourteen Years of Age. — Cadet. — En- sign in his Father's Regiment. — Sackett's Harbor. — Adjutant to Gen- eral Uphani, — Movements on the St. Lawrence. — Fight at Chrystler's Fields. — Death of Lieutenant-colonel Dix at French Mills. — 1814 : Fort Constitution, Portsmouth, N. H. — Colonel "Wulbach. — Domestic Anxi- eties and Triak^. — 1818: Fort "Washington, ou the Potomac, — 1819: Fort Columbus, New York Harbor. — Aide-de-camp to General Jacob Brown. — Brownsville, N. Y. — "Washington, D. C. — John C. Callioun. — Visits to Montpelier and Monticcllo. — Madison. — Jefferson. — Debates in Congress. — Pinkuey of Maryland. — Rufus King. — John Randolph of Roanoke. ; MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX AN A UTOBIOGRAPIIY. I REVISIT, after the lapse of fifty years, the scenes of my childhood. The old familiar objects around me wear new aspects, and yet they have lost nothing of their identity. The outlines are the same, but how strangel}' shrunken they appear to be in their proportions ! Our minds and our bodies, by force of some incomprehensible law, expand together. As we increase in stature the physical objects which surround us seem to diminish in magnitude. Most of us, I think, are con- scious of this change. The river which is flowing past as it has flowed for ages, and which had to my sight an immeasura- ble distance across when I was a child, looks like a mere brook in my manhood. But I have in the mean time stood on the banks of the Mississippi and the Missouri, and these are now my stand.ards of comparison. The mountain on the opposite side, which always appeared to me to have some vague and inconceivable height, has dwindled into a hill of the most inconsiderable dimensions : but I have crossed the Kocky Mountains, the Alps, and the Apennines, and I instinctively measure all inequalities of the earth's surface by these gigan- tic elevations. Yet this miniature mountain, which filled my childish conceptions, and which I can still fancy draped, as of ■ \ } I l! an -1. 1 4 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. old, in gorgeous foliage, ntul casting its cool shadows far down into the meadows as the sun Avas pinking behind it, is as familiar as ever to my sight. But, in the progress of settle- ment, it has been denuded of trees ; and its stony front, as its covering has been stripped off, reveals itself in deep seams and sharp protuberances of granite. But let mo turn from the present to the distant jiast. THE FIKST TEN YEAE9 OF MY LIFE. I was born in a village in New Hampshire.* It was a full mile in length. Its single street was terminated at one ex- tremity' by the meeting-house, and at the other by a bridge crossing a small stream. On one side, half a mile off, the Merrimack Iliver flowed quietly along, with an intervening flat, known as the intervale.f On the ojiposite side was a * In the year 1732, memorable as that in which George Washington was born, a number of men, mostly natives of Newbury, in the Province of Massachusetts Bay, associated themselves together with a view to founding a new settlement. Two years later they went forth and made their home on the west bank of the Merrimack River, in the district of New Ilamjishire, which was then under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts. The proprietors gave to the township, which was seven miles square, the Indian name of Contoocook. An act of incorporation was obtained April 22, 17C0, and the town was thenceforth known as Boscawen. The change of appellation was natural. The old name was associated with images of misery and sorrow ; the settlers had been harassed by the savage allies of the French ; their lives were spent in fear ; and every man was of necessity a soldier. While the petition of tlie proprietors for a charter was before the government of the Province of New Hamp- shire, the reduction and demolition of Louisburg took place, and Gen- erals Amherst and Wolfe and Admiral Boscawen became the heroes of the day. Thus it happened that the brave old sailor gave liis name to the newly-organized plantation, to the great delight of the inhabitants, whose gloomy recollections were changed to auguries of brighter days. t "The territory may be divided into three general divisions, viz., i/jto'- val, pine-plain, and ?iig?i land, requiring a different cultivation. " The interval upon the Merrimack, nearly the whole length of the town, is in many places widely extended, originally covered with a heavy 1793-1821.] ENERGY AND FORESIGHT WELL DIRECTED. 5 range of thickly-wooded hills. I have seen many more beau- tiful villages, but none that had for me the attraction of this. It may be because it was my birthplace. My father was one of the first settlers, lie was active and indefatigable in busi- ness, and he soon gathered a community about him. He knew that in order to make his neighbors contented he must bring within their reach everything essential to their comfort. lie hired a storekeeper, opened a store, and filled it with dry- goods, hardware, and groceries, enlarging his list from time to time as the settlers became able to increase their indulgences. Wagon-loads of supplies were brought from Boston as the stock on hand became low, and the arrival of one of th'^se trains — for there were generally three or four wagons in com- pany — was a source of the greatest interest and excitement. As soon as the goods were opened and ready for purchasers they were visited, inspected, and gradually bought and con- sumed. The women came to see the new calicoes and taste the fresh sugar, and the men to handle the axes and spades. As the village increased in population and means mv father established a school. He hired the teachers and provided the school-books. In process of time a school-house was built, and the school became one of the most noted in the country. My father was very scrupulous in regard to the teachers. He would have none but the very first, both in regard to qual- ifications and respectability of character. They sometimes insisted that he should receive them into his own family ; and in several instances he did so, rather than lose them. Some of the most distinguished men in the State — afterward known growth of elm, butternut, maple, and basswoocl. When cultivated it proved very productive, and even at this period bountifully rewards the labor of the husbandman." — A Chronological Register of Boseawen, in the County of Merrimach and State of New Hampshire, from the first settle- ment of the toicn to 1820. In three parts: Descriptive, Historical, and Miscellaneous. Compiled by an order of the town, passed March, 1819. By Ebenezer Price, A.M., Pastor of the Second Churcli in said town. Concord: Printed by Jacob B. Moore, 1823. 8vo, 116 pp. 6 MEMOIRS OF JOnX ADAMS 1)1 X. throughout the Union for tlicir great abilities — were among our village Bchool-niasters. \\\ the summer wo had female teachers, and tliey were of the same liigh rank in talent and character. One of them became the wife of a jurist and statesman who has had few equals in public reputation.* It was in this school that I received the rudiments of my educa- tion. I was a favorite with them all, and I cherish the remem- brance of their good opinion as a distinction to bo proud of. The teachers being sometimes inmates of my father's family, I was almost constantly with them ; and when I was suffi- ciently advanced to be sent to an academy I became sensible of the great advantage I had derived from the influence of these excellent persons. Indeed, I think I have felt it strong- ly in every period of my life. The village, as I remember it after the lapse of fifty yeai*s, consisted of some thirty dwelling-houses, standing, in about equal number, on opposite sides of the long, straight street. A few were white, but they were for the most part painted in Spanish brown or a dirty red. There were a tavern and a blacksmith's shop near the centre of the village. The school-house was also midway between the two extremities, and directly back of it was the bnrying-ground. I think the school-liouso lot was originally a ])art of it. It was an odd fancy to put them in this close contact — to bring together * My father, in a private letter referring to tlic curly family history, says : " I remember an oration delivered by Daniel Webster on the 4tli of July, 180G, at Concord, 'before the Federal gentlemen of Concord and its vicinity,' as set fortli on the title-page of the pamphlet copy. He was then in the practice of the law, and an inmate of my father's family. They were zealous political opponents, but personal friends, although the lines were at that period very sharply drawn between the Federal and Republican parties. My father took great interest in the village school, and in many instances procured the teachers. I have a distinct recollec- tion of General Fesscnden, the father of the late Senator Fessendcn of Maine, as one of them, and also of Grace Fletcher, one of the loveliest of women, with wliom Mr. Webster became acquainted at my father's house while she was teaching, and whom he afterward married." 17!}H-lHiJl.] SAD JXI) PLEASiyG REillNISCENCES. 7 those who were preparing for the battle of life and those who had fought and fallen in it. I «lo not renicniher, while 1 was at school, to have received any gloomy impression from this near neighborhood of the dead. On the contrary, it was no uncommon thing for me and my jjlayfellows to chunber over the fence, and carry on our games among the graves. But after I had left school tombstones were erected to mark the resting-places of my mother, a little sister, and my only broth- er ; and 1 never afterward approached the spot without a deep feeling of depression. One of my earliest recollections is the total eclipse of the sun in 180(). It was about the middle of June, and vegeta- tion was in full luxuriance. Four or live beautiful trees stood in front of my father's house. lie had planted them fifteen years before. One was an elm, and a robin had built her nest among its branches. I had been told that the earth would be covered with darkness, and that the beasts and birds would be deceived by the counterfeit night. I watched the robin with the deepest interest. As the darkness deepened the fowls hurried to their roosts, and the robin, to my great delight, flew to her nest. It was appalling to see the beams of the sun wholly intercepted at mid-day, and the face of the earth buried in gloom. As the moon passed over the sun's disk it seemed as though a funereal pall was drawn over it. As soon as my boyish curiosity in regard to the fowls was satisfied a feeling of terror came over me. I ran into the house. I could not bear the outer darkness. The family had gone out to witness a phenomenon never to occur again within the compass of any of our lives, and had left my youngest sister, then about two years old, in her cradle. I took her up and held her in my arms, to relieve the feeling of awe caused by the sudden disappearance of the sunlight ; for, although the gloom had come on gradually, it seemed to me at the last that the total darkness was instantaneous, like that which follows the extinction of a lamp. But the light soon began to re- turn, and I recovered from my panic in time to go out and >!» > I i 'I > I If I 8 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. Bee the simple birds and fowls leaving their nests and roosts, with the idea, no doubt, that they were waking up to a new day. The next winter* death — thenceforth to be but too fre- quent a visitor — first appeared in our family. My grandfa- ther lived near us. Two gardens, his own and my father's, separated the two families ; a broad gravelled walk ran through the grounds, and our communications with each other were carried on without going into the street. My great-grandfa- ther, who lived with my grandfather, was near a hundred years old ; but until within a short period before his deatli he was in full possession of his bodily and mental powers. His great- est weakness was the garrulousness of age. On Thanksgiving- day the two families were always united, and four generations sat down together at my father's table. A few weeks after one of these reunions (the last we were to know) my grandfa- ther came to our liouse at daybreak and told us the old man was dead. His spirii had passed away in the stillness of the night, and so quietly that my grandfather and grandmother, who occupied the adjoining room, with a door open into his, were unaware of it until tlicy rose. The shock which the intelligence gave to us children was indescribable. The pres- ence of our aged ancestor, who moved about among us in patriarchal solemnity, and to whom we clung like vines to a tree of stately growth, seemed a part of our own existence ; and I could hardly understand at first how his life could be taken away without violence to our own. I incline to think this is a common feeling with children when Death for the * I leave this as it stands, although there is undoubtedly a mistake. The date of the total eelijise is correctly given by my father as 180C ; but the death of his great-grandfather occurred eighteen months before, and not after, the eclipse. Tlic error is a slight one ; it jirobably arose from the double impression made on the boy's mind by the shadow over the earth and the deeper shadow in the house — he associated the two horrors of great darkness with each other, as though they merged into one. And it may also be noted that a death occurred just as he states — that of his brother, in October, 1806. M¥ BROTHER'S SAD DEATH. 9 first time separates them from one of tlieir own family. It is for this reason that they feel a terror never equalled at any re-appearance of the same unwelcome visitor. As we ad- vance in age we become more familiar with his presence ; and, after threescore years, I think few persons, excepting those who are conscience - stricken by the remembrance of great crimes, view his near apj)roach -with insupportable dread. My feelings of horror were at their height when the funeral procession moved away from my grandfather's house. There were no hearses with us in those primeval days. The coffin, covered with its sable pall, was laid upon a bier, and was borne by four men to the grave. The earth was white with snow, and as the bearers passed on with their burden they formed together the blackest of all contrasts. I turned away from the w'indow and buried my face in my mother's bosom — the tender mother who was in a few years to be followed to the same resting-place by the same ghastly procession of sorrowing friends. But her hour was not to come until she had herself been overwhelmed with a new and a deeper grief. My only broth- er* was two years older than myself. lie was bold, active, and intelligent. He was a leader in every enterprise among those of his own age. Though but eleven years old, he had all the self-j)OSsession and fearlessness of a man. He was pas- sionately fond of horses, and, as my father kept several, he was constantly on horseback. One day a new one was brought home in my father's absence ; he was young, and only partially broken. My brother was innnediately on his back, galloping up and down the street. The animal ran away, and threw him. He was taken up and brought home in a state of insen- sibility, but without any ostensible injury. The next day he seemed well again ; but in a short time he began to droop, and in a few weeks was laid by the side of my great-grandfather. This calamity made the deepest impression upon me. I I: * Timotliy Fuller Shattuck Dix, born Feb. 11, 1796 ; died Oct. 10, 1800. I 10 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. had idolized my brother, and was his companion in all his enterprises and excnrsions, wandering with him among the fields, fishing with him in summer, and in winter following him on my sled down the sides of the steepest hills. It was many months before I could be induced to go out as usual and join my playfellows in their sports. I kept almost con- stantly in the house with my mother. My father had, for that period, a good English library. I had scarcely ever look- ed into a book, except such as contained my lessons at school. In the first days of my grief, while strolling listlessly about, I entered the library. A book lay upon the table ; I took it up, and found it to be a volume of Goldsmith ; I opened it at the "Good-natured Man." My interest was excited; I finished the play without laying down the book. The moment dinner was over I hurried to the library, and did not leave it until it was too dark to read. For months I literally lived upon the English poets and essayists. I was then but nine years of age, but .iiy thirst for reading was insatiable. For a full year I scarcely took time for exercise. My father and mother in- dulged me in my passion ; and I have since thought that the latter, with a secret consciousness that our earthly communion was soon to end, encouraged me, for the purpose of having me always in her sight. I cannot remember at this remote j)eriod all the authors I read. Those which made the strongest im- pression on me at first \7cvq Goldsmith and Addison; but they were soon laid aside for Shakspeare. I did not confine myself to the poets and essayists. There was no system in my reading. I literally devoured whatever I chanced to take up — poetry, histoiy, and now and then a book of a lighter character, though my father's library contained few other than standard works. He was too much immersed in business at home and abroad to pay much attention to mc, and my mother left me to the guidance of my own impulses, satisfied with the assurance that in a well-chosen library I could not go far astray, and probably thinking that my interest would be more likely to be kept up, if uncontrolled. I ; M¥ MOTHER'S APPROACHING END. 11 She never recovered from the shock of my brother's death. Iler health had been delicate for many years : it now began rapidly to decline. If I had been older I could not have fail- ed to notice the change, slow and insidious as it was ; but I was constantly with her, and for this reason was the less likely to mark the almost imperceptible stages of its progress. I look back to this year as the happiest of my life — precursor as it was to the year of sorrow which was to succeed it. As I recur to it a thousand little incidents crowd on my memory, unthought of then, but rising up now to rebuke my blindness. I remember how often, as I was kneeling at her feet or resting my head on her shoulder, I was struck by the jiallor of her face and by the thinness of her white fingers as she passed them through my flowing hair or pressed them against my cheek. I fancy her now averting her coimtenance, after gazing long and affectionately on me, to conceal from me the tears with which her eyes were overflowing — eyes always brilliant, but now, though dimmed with tears, shining with an unnatural light. I thought it was my lost brother on whom her thoughts were intent. I am sure, now, tliat she was sorrow- ing for the child from whom she was about to part, and not for the one she was so soon to meet. It was not until she had reached the last stage of weakness that the conscious- ness of a coming horror awoke witliin me. During the last months of her illness its progress was marked by more fre- quent and perceptible changes. At first she often walked out with me, holding my hand in hers, listening to my comments on what I had read — for books were at that time almost the chief subject of my thoughts — or talking to me in tones of angelic sweetness, that still seem to fall like notes of distant music on my ear. The beautiful nature around us — the calm, blue skies, the green fields, the luxuriance of trees and flowers — was all in harmony with her own. I have never since met with such gentleness or sweetness of temper. In all the neighborhood there was not a single person, young or old, whose heart she had not won. These walks filled up the last 12 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. happy summer of my boyhood. As the autumn advanced she grew weaker, and they fatigued her. For a month more she drove out. Then she remained always in the house, for a while moving wearisomely about, and at last never leaving her bed. I think it was not until then, when one day she pressed me to her bosom, and I felt how thin the arms which encircled me had grown, and heard her whispered benediction, as if she were about to set out on a distant journey, that the coming calamity broke upon me, as the morning breaks on the uncon- scious darkness of the night. It was a moment of agony and horror I cannot, even after the lapse of fifty years, bear to look back upon. I burst into a flood of tears and filled her chamber with my sobs. There needed no farther interchange of intelligence between us. No word had been spoken ; but she knew that the dark truth was unveiled to me, and during the few days that remained to us — days passed constantly to- gether — her calm resignation, her hoj)efulness of the future life, and the endearments showered uj)on me, almost recon- ciled me to her translation to the bright heaven the portals of wliicli were opening for her. It was only the dark cloud about to fall upon mo that overwhelmed me with grief. But let me dwell no longer on these bitter experiences. In her last hour she gave birth to a daughter, and endowed it with the feeble remnant of her own life. Another funeral train — the saddest of all — went out from my father's house, and she was laid by my brother's side.* A few weeks later her infant followed lier.f Her grave was re-opened, and the lifeless child was laid on her bosom, there to rest until the Great Day. My father, who had long foreseen the coming calamity, took refuge in his extended and engrossing business, pursu- ing it with redoubled energy. My sisters had returned from boarding-school in a distant town a few days before my moth- * She died December 3, 1808. t Martha Sherman Dix, born October 16, 1808; died January 11, 1809. »! 'f I MY PASSION FOB BEADING. 13 er's death. My father resolved that they should remain at home, and he brought with him from Boston a governess to take charge of them. In addition to the ordinary routine of English instruction, she taught them music and drawing — accomplishments at that time unknown in the sequestered region where we lived. My father was a tasteful musician, and drew with the pencil of an artist. lie had transmitted his tastes to his children, and I was soon a proficient, under the new governess, in both arts. But my new occupation did not interfere with my reading. I was still as indefatigable as ever, until I grew feeble. M^' sleep was disturbed, and I of- ten rose in the night under strong nervous excitement and left my room, wandering about the house. My father found me twice under these circumstances, and became alarmed for my health. He determined to detach me for a time from my studies. He had a passion for shooting, and with either the rifle or shot-gun was an unerring marksman. When he first settled in the country the woods were full of bears, wolves, and pantliers, and he had waged perpetual warfare with them. They had gone farther back with the advance of settlement, and were at tliat time rarely seen. On his return from his next visit to Boston he gave me a silver-mounted fowling-piece, and instructed me in the use of it.* It struck * Here is a letter about tliib fowling-piece, addressed to " Master John Adams Dix, Student, Exeter." The precautions to be observed in its use must have rendered it, for the time, a harmless -weapon, and quite safe in a boarding-school : " Boscawcn, Sept. 19, 1809. "Adams, — You will receive herewith your military clothes and my sil- ver-mounted fowling-piece ; 'tis very unsuitable for a training gun, and I very much fear 'twill get injured; 'tis so very slender a little hard usage would spoil it. I do not wish you to use any powder, have there- fore put a piece of wood in place of a flint, and desire you may not take it out, or suffer it to be taken out, till you see me ; you will probably con- ceive it to be rather hard to be debar'd the use of powder, but must al- low me to be the best judge, and will, I presume, be perfectly satisfied on my saying that I have sufficient reasons for it. I shall set out to-mor- row for Dixville ; expect to be gone three weeks. Shortly after I return I 14 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. i\ a secret vein within me, and from that moment I became an indefatigable sportsman. Tlie passion now at seventy years of age is as strong as ever, and 1 have indulged it through life, whenever I have been able to escape from the urgency of my private business or public employments. After practising for a few days at a mark, I singled out a bird near the house and brought him to the ground. I could not have made a more unfortunate essay of my skill. It was a lark, which sang upon the trees in front of the door, and greeted my father as he awoke from his slumbers with its matin song. When he told me this, and expressed his sorrow for what I had done, I felt as though the mark of Cain was blazoned upon my forehead. I looked upon the instrument of death with inexpressible loathing, and hid it away for several days. My father, think- ing I had suffered enough for my thoughtlessness, took me into the woods with him. The wild-pigeons were flying, and we tilled our pouches with game. As we were clambering over the hills a tremendous rustling was heard in a thicket before us ; it was the sudden flight of a covey of partridges. I had never heard the sound before, and expected every in- stant to see a panther emerge from the woods. 1 confess to a moment of fear, and I think I unconscic asly fell behind my father. lie was a man of action, and not of words. Without speaking, he turned back on me a look, as I interj)reted it, of reproach and scorn. It seemed to say, " Have I a coward in my family ?" I felt it keenly. The blood, which my momen- tary alarm had thrown back upon my heart, rushed to my ex- tremities, and no doubt crimsoned my cheeks. My self-pos- session was regained as rapidly as it had been lost. I cocked my piece instinctively and planted myself directly before him. I shall never forget the smile of approbation he gave expect to go to Portsmouth — shall go or come thro' Exeter. Wo arc all well. Your mamma ami sisters all desire much love to you. Mine and your mamma's compliments to Mrs. Giddings and daughters. " In baste. Yr. Father, "T. Dix.jR." 1798-1821.] GLANCES AT MY NATIVE VILLAGE. 15 nie ; it said to me more distinctly than any words could have done : " I am satisfied — you will not be found wanting in try- ?j ing emergencies. ' I have often thought, if some wild beast had come out upon us, as I expected, how poor a match I should have been for it, with my slender fowling-piece and the small shot with which it was charged. Eelieved by my father's explanations from all apprehension of any such un- equal adversaries, I now lived, in fair weather, in the woods, j)ursuing my studies at home only on rainy days. In a few months my cheeks had become ruddy again and my constitu- tion invigorated with fresh strength. The period was approaching when I was to be sent away from home for my classical education ; but, before I enter upon it, let mc cast back some glances at my native village. I have spoken of the meeting-house at one of its extremities. The society was Congregational in its form. It acknowledged no earthly head. I had a distinct idea of this peculiarity in its doctrine from the conversations which I heard at my father's house. My mother was a sincere, devout, and tnistful Chris- tian. My father was a believer, but not a member of the Church. I sometimes thought his views did not accord with those of the preacher ; but he said nothing to warrant such an inference. No man was more regular than himself in his attendance on divine worship on Sundays, and they were the only days in the year on which any religious exercises were observed, except the first Monday of every month, on which evening a prayer-meeting was held. I derived no agreeable impression whatever from these religious observances. The meeting-house was, like most others at that day, painted white, covered with shingles, full of windows, with plain, plastered walls inside ; it was cold and dreary in its aspect within and without. It had no window-blinds ; and as the sun moved round the building in summer the congregation moved about in their pews, to escape from his burning rays. The winters were awful : the thermometer often fell twenty or thirty de- grees below zero. There was no fireplace or furnace, not even 16 MEMOIBS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. a stove. To this arctic temperature we were exposed two hours in tlie morning and two in the afternoon.* The ser- mon was ahnost always an hour long; and the prayers and psalms, and reading of the Scriptures, occupied about the same time. In my whole life I have never suffered so much from cold. My mother always took a foot-stove with her, and it was more frequently under my feet than hers. In the sleigh on our way to meeting we were always comfortable, for we were enveloped in buffalo-skins. But we could not take them with us into the meeting-house. When the wind was high the cold was nearly insupportable. The window-sashes vibrated and rattled in their loose frames, and the cold air poured upon us through numberless inlets. My feelings were anything but devotional ; and I pray God to forgive me the many secret irreverences of which I was guilty. The preach- er was a learned and a conscientious man ;f but I hated his long discourses (drawn out, as it seemed to me, with a malicious perverseness) when I was perishing with cold. The strangest speculations took possession of my mind. I had read in some book in my father's library that certain holy men had volun- tarily submitted to the severest inflictions. One, whose name does not occur to me, lived on the top of a column for a num- ber of years, exposed to all the vicissitudes of the seasons. Supposing him to have lived in a good climate, I wondered whether ho suffered as much as our preacher, holding forth by the hour in an atmosphere fifty degrees below freezing-point. I wondered whether the latter, like the holy father, was acting on a principle of self-infliction, or whether he was punishing his congregation for their stubbornness in sin. If his motive was merely personal, then I wondered why he could not dis- miss the congregation and perform the jjenance by himself. * It appears that in 1827 a stove was purchased, the following item ap- pearing on the society records: "Voted to purchase at auction one cord hard pine- wood, two feet long, split for stove, to be cut in the spring; which was struck off to Lieut. Nathan H. Holt, at $1 50." t The Rev. Samuel Wood, 1798-1821.] MY MOTHEKS TEACHINGS. 17 instead of making us tlie companions and the victims of his martyrdom. I could not help secretly wishing, on these wretched occasions, that he might freeze his feet, that his arm might become so benumbed with cold that he could not gesticulate, or that his tongue might cleave to the roof of his mouth. It was not because I had any malice against him in my heart, but because he was, by protracting his sermons so unreasonably, inflicting on me sufferings too great to be borne. I knew him better in after-years, and became sincerely attach- ed to him ; and if ho had not been ignorant of all that passed through my mind during those winter services, I Would have confessed my uncharitableness and implored his forgiveness. But there never could have been any reconciliation between me and the meeting-house. I always detested it; I never looked upon it as the house of God. Town - meetings and elections were held in it. I had seen it defiled with tobacco- juice ; I had seen it desecrated by fisticufiing in the heat of political conflicts ; I had heard its bare walls ring with tumult- uous laughter, when some man, who had been prosperous in money-making and assumed airs, was elected hog-constable by acclamation. These scenes were too often uppermost in my thoughts when the sermon was in progress, and a devotional frame of mind was impossible. I am sure these impediments in my path were not the fruit of any constitutional impiety. On the contrary, I have from my youth been a believer, and became many years ago a mem- ber of the Church. My mother's affectionate teachings had implanted within me grains of devotion w^liich time could not fail to bring forth and ripen. But her God never seemed to me the same Deity who was worshipped at the meeting-house. Hers was all goodness and mercy and pardoning love ; while the other seemed to me a severe master, burning with anger at the impenitence of the human race. In my simplicity I asked my father, after my mother's death, why I felt so. He bade me trust to my mother, and consider our Divine Master as she had described him. I often think how much more I.— 2 18 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. 1! \ ■ 1 1 -5i :'': \ wholesomo her teachings were than those to which she had been accustomed to listen. I remember asking my father why our meeting-liouse was so uncomfortable. I reminded him that our house had warm rooms, cushioned chairs, and nicely papered walls ; and asked him if we ought not to make God's house as good as our own. I never could get any sat- isfactory answers to such inquiries as this last. Indeed, he evaded them, or told mo I would understand these things better when I grew older. Such were my early impressions in regard to religious wor- ship ; and, but for the remembrance of my mother, I fear a much longer time would have elapsed before they were sup- planted by better ones. The people of our village, though unsophisticated, were not wanting in intelligence or in the rudiments of education. They were entirely ignorant of the world, and heard little of it except from my father, who made frequent visits to Bos- ton, and who, on his return, always imparted to his wondering neighbors the knowledge he had there gained. Newspapers were rare in those days, and the villagers who had not been bom in the place came from equally sequestered districts. Yet, with the exception of a few laboring men who led unset- tled lives, I doubt whether there was a single person in the village, male or female, who could not read and write. Their reading was, certainly, confined to a very limited range of books — the Bible, "Pilgrim's Progress," Baxter's "Saint's Kest," Fox's " Lives of the Martyrs," and some elementary works on geography and history. There were a few families, however, whose field of literary research was wider and more varied ; and I remember that there were books in my father's library which went the rounds of the more intelligent house- holds. The simplicity of our neighbors was well illustrated by an incident which occurred in my presence. My father had brought home a Boston paper, and was reading to a num- ber of them a paragraph which, he said, he believed to be un- true. " Why," said one of his auditors, " do you believe they 1798-1821.] 0177? VILLAGE MILITIA COMPANY. 19 llier's would print a lie ?" He, no doubt, believed lies might bo told — such acts of turpitude might even have been committed within the sphere of his own experience — but the enormity of deliberately putting a lie in typo was one which his untu- tored fancy had never conceived. The grandest and most exciting event in our village life, and one of the very earliest of which I have a distinct recol- lection, was the organization of a company of militia. My father was chiefly instrumental in getting it up, but declined (with a disinterestedness, as ) thought, which should have given him an immortal fame) all share in its honors. He would neither be captain nor corporal, though, I believe, he was pressed to accept both those distinguished positions. If I could have seen him marching either in front or in rear of this formidable body — the first I had ever seen in military array — my happiness would have been comj^lete. The day appointed for the first drill was one of the sultriest I ever knew. It was about the middle of July, and the heat of the sun was inconceivable. In my impatience to see the parade commence I may have done the company injustice; but I suspected them of a disposition to postj)one the exer- cises to a cooler hour of the day ; whereas I expected to see them, like the heroes of the " Iliad," setting the elements at defiance. There was nothing said to warrant my suspicion. I only inferred it from the discussions which were kept up for several hours as to certain details of the organization — partic- ularly as to questions of precedence ; that is, who should inarch next to the captain, and who should bring up the rear. I found that the social position of the parties was an important element in settling the controversy ; whereas, in the regular service, the whole thing is disposed of by stature, the tallest men being assigned to the flanks, with a uniform descent from each to the common centre. But of these ingenious de- vices I had no knowledge at that early period of my life. While engaged in the settlement of the preliminaries refer- red to a furious storm arose. My youthful imagination may ! 1 1 1 1 il f i'^ I 41 ) I I il \ [I- 20 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. have exaggerated it, but I think I have never since witnessed such thunder and lightning. In a few minutes tlio rain pour- ed down in torrents, and continued for two houre without diminution. Tlic wliole surface of tlic eartli was flooded, and the street was a pool of water. Tlio moment the rain ceased the lino was formed. My heart beat tumultuously as it filed off from the front of my father's store. I was not conscious of any organic defects at the time, though I could not fail to notice the great want of uniformity in dress and equipment. Most of the privates were in their shirt-sleeves, the officers only, with a becoming tenaciousncss of their dignity, keeping on their coats. There were not many muskets, and, I believe, not a single bayonet in the whole line. The guns were chiefly fowling-pieces, and there were a number of very inferior sub- stitutes. I suspected one of the privates of carrying on his shoulder the butt-end of one of my fish-poles, broken off for the purjiose, and 1 know that a pitchfork was abstracted for the emergency from my father's stable. But I had read enough of war to understand its exigencies, and I considered them as fully justifying acts which, if counnitted under a less imperious necessity, would have been wholly indefensible. When 1 saw the men moving off under their gallant com- mander into the centre of the street, with the water ankle- deep, and marching through it with heroic indifference, I felt the deep injustice I had done them, before the storm, in sus- pecting them of shrinking from the sun. It occurred to me, it is true, that after the fiery heat of the day, which was not yet entirely allayed, the water was anything but unpleasant. But I indignantly dismissed this suggestion, as the offspring of an unworthy suspicion, and was sure that they would have marched through a pool of molten lead with the same alacrity, if the good of their country had demanded such an act of devotion. To one familiar with military exhibitions the fact that there was no drum or fife would have detracted materially from the effect of this. It was a want which, in my igno- 11 r and tenderness of a mother for the preservation of her "dear children," as she called us, from * This school was at Salisbury. Stephen 11, Long, afterward a dis- tinguished officer of United States Engineers, was preceptor. My father was lodged with the Rev. Dr. Worcester, who, like Dr. Wood, was held in high esteem in the ministry. 1798-1821.] AN EARLY ATTACHMENT. 25 the fury of the storm. She made no allusion to herself, and I do not think her own danger ever occurred to her, so ab- sorbing was her anxiety for us. The kindness of this excel- lent woman is ever fresh in my remembrance. I have never since found any one whor.e affection so nearly resembled, in its outward manifestations, that which I had known in my mother. The principal of the academy — the Preceptor, as he was called — was a young man of more than ordinary capacity and attainments. He had graduated at college as a finished classical scholar and an excellent mathematician ; and he was known afterward as one of the first Engineei's in the Un'^^'^d States. He ruled us with firmness ; but he was always con- siderate and just, and I do not think there was a single pupil who did not love and respect him. The year I passed under his direction was one of the happiest I have known since my mother's death. There was a girls' as well as a boys' depart- ment, and several of the misses were fellow-boarders with us. They were all of excellent families, and one only of them turned out badly in her womanhood. She had more personal attractions than any of her associates, and a serenity of tem- per which no provocation could disturb. She was, indeed, the belle of the village as well as the school. "We boarded to- gether, and I became her devoted admirer, though she was two years older than myself. But for this disparity of age and my extreme youth, I am sure our watchful female guar- dian would not have allowed us to be so much together. AVe were inseparable companions, and she was as warmly attached to me as I was to her. There was no need of keeping us apart. I was but ten years of age, and she only twelve. It is true, as time advanced and I was a year older, it occurred to me that when I became a man the difference between us would disappear, and then there would be no obstacle to a nearer association — an association which conveyed to my mind no other idea but that of perpetual companionship. But no such intimation passed between us. I have often wondered 26 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. V f since v:liethcr this thought (for it was nothing more), if it had been expressed, would have had any influence in saving her from the infamy of her after-life. It is a wretched history of ruin to her and misery to her respectable family — a history I do not intend to narrate. "When we parted 1 sincerely be- lieve she was as pure in heart as she was in conduct. We met once afterward in Boston. Ten years had gone by, and I was a man. I went to see her, knowing her guilt and her imj)enitence. She was then in the full bloom of womanhood, and surpassingly beautiful. The interview was a very dis- tressing one. It was unexpected to her, and the sight of me, her friend and admirer in the days of her innocence, filled her heart for the first time with shame and remorse. Two days afterward her earthly career, begun in prosperity and virtue, and ending in dishonor and guilt, was suddenly closed. It was many weeks before I recovered from the shock I received from this meeting and its sad sequel. I have anticipated the close of this unhappy episode in my life in order to dismiss it forever hereafter from my thoughts. If she had lived in the days of Charles II. site might hav^e been a Duchess of Cleveland, or, in the reign of the late King of Bavaria, a Countess of Landsfeldt. May God forgive her many trans- gressions, and, above all, the last act, by which she terminated her miserable life ! I was not long in taking a high rank among the pupils of my own age. I had a remarkable facility for acquiring languages ; and as the classics were at that day the chief branch of academ- ic instruction, my proficiency was very marked. I also made good progress as a speaker. A few years later an eminent tragedian, who had given me a series of lessons in elocution, said to my father, then in command of a regiment in the army of the United States, " Colonel, your son has great constitu- tional facilities for becoming an orator." I believe this was the judgment — though it would have been expressed in less sounding phrase — of the preceptor, the pupils, and the people of the surrounding country, for it was not long before I ap- *> I 1798-1821.] A PRIMITIVE THEATRE. 27 peared before them as a public speaker. The occasion to which I refer was the semi-annual examination, or rather the exhibition, as it was appropriately termed. To be more ac- curate, the examination of the students, which took place at the academy, was followed by an exhibition at the meeting- house of the oratorical and dramatic powers of the pupils. It was got up with the most studied preparation and all the scenic effect of a country theatre. The pews, occupying about one-third of the area of the building, were boarded over and converted into a stage, reserving a small space in the rear for robing. It was an era in the lives of those of us who had never witnessed a dramatic performance. I had read all of Goldsmith's and most of Shakspeare's plays, but had not the faintest conception of the mode in which they were repre- sented. One of the older pupils, who had a knack at paint- ing, got up some sketches of trees and foliage for the sides and background of the stage. We had no shifting scenes; and as we came to the performances, which were quite varied, it occurred to me that the actors, when they should, accord- ing to the book, have been conversing in drawing-rooms or streets, were always holding communion with each other in umbrageous solitudes. The drop-curtain was unexception- able. It was muslin of a fiery red ; and to my sight the ef- fect, as it rose or fell, concealing or displaying the green trees behind it, was gorgeous beyond anything I had conceived. I think it made the same impression on the spectators, vho were, at least nine out of ten, inhabitants of the neighboring country, and as ignorant as myself of dramatic representa- tions. Oui-s commenced in the morning about ten o'clock, and lasted till one. After that we had an intermission of an hour for dinner. At two they recommenced, and continued till eight in the evening. It was midsummer, and in that northern latitude the twilight ran far into the night. We played "Tlio Taming of the Shrew" with unbounded ap- plause. The genteel portions of the comedy were, as I thought, glorious ; but the drunken tinker filled the measure II r : r. i J ti i,. Mi 28 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. ! I of my conception in regard to the power of imitation. I was, in fact, Bo convulsed with laughter that the performance which was to follow, and in which I was to bear the most dis- tinguished part, was at one time in imminent peril of miscar- riage. It was a dialogue between David and Goliath, taken from one of Hannah More's sacred dramas. I need not say which part was assigned to me. When the preceptor pro- posed it I shrunk from it, as far exceeding my powers. I was only familiar with the history of the giant and his youthful antagonist through the seventeenth chapter of the Fii*st Book of Samuel. I knew I was to be armed with a sling, and I was somewhat familiar with its use, but I did not think myself sufficiently expert to hit my adversary in the forehead in good faith and actually bring him to the ground, as I took it for granted the spectators would expect — at least with a rea- sonable resemblance to the reality. But when I read Miss More's poetical version of the meeting, which the preceptor put into my hands, and found that after the challenge had been given and accepted the parties, by virtue of the Ex- eunt (that ingenious device of the play-writers), were to re- tire, leaving the audience to learn the particulars of the com- bat from Abner, the captain of the host — in a word, when I found that the impossibilities of the drama were to be enacted behind the scenes, I entered upon my task with the utmost enthusiasm. I may truly say, in modern phrase, that my per- formance was " a great success " — I do not think the drunken tinker carried away as many laurels as myself. My adversary was an overgrown youth of some twenty-two years of age, who had just left the plough and commenced his classical educa- tion with a view to the ministry. He was full six feet in height, and his frame was dilated and hardened by field labor. When he stood before me and waved his enormous wooden spear over my head, with those terrific words — " Around my spear I'll twist tliy shining locks, And toss in air tby head all gash'd with wounds"— li ) 1798-1821.] THE ILLUSIONS OF BOYHOOD. 29 (a feat to which he was quite equal), the intrepidity with which I withstood and defied tlie giant was rapturously ap- plauded. But when I, a mere stripling, bade my colossal ad- versary follow me out, and pronounced the concluding lines — " The God of battle stimulates my arm, And fires my soul with ardor not ^ts own " — the enthusiasm of the audience was boundless. I was called back upon the stage to receive tlie congratulations of the ad- miring spectators. The meeting-house was crowded. Hun- dreds of bright eyes looked down upon me from the galleries. Tumultuous applause greeted my re-appearance. I did not know that this was a common occurrence in theatrical life. It seemed to me to be a new-born distinction, the offspring of an unexampled success. My triumph was complete. It was the greatest day of my life. I felt that I had done a noble deed. I do not think that David himself could have been better satisfied with his own performance in the original drama. But I was not intoxicated by my success. Like that exemplary Israelite, I resolved not to disappoint the public expectation. I would live and devote myself to the perform- ance of great and virtuous actions. I considered myself called on thus to dedicate myself by the unbounded applause I had received. I have often looked back, not altogether without a sense of the comic, on these innocent dawnings of youthful ambition. There is, nevertheless, a serious aspect in these retrospections — in the dissipation of pleasant and inspiring illusions, when we compare the aspirations of boyhood with the tmths taught by our experience in after-life. My tri- umph was not a mere ephemeral achievement of the day. For a long time I saw myself noticed by the country jjcople as they passed me in their wagons ; and on one occasion a red-cheeked girl driving by pointed me out to her companion as blooming as herself, and I heard her say, " There's the fine little fellow that acted David." I 80 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. THE SECOND TEN YEARS OF MY LIFE. 1 had reached an age when my father thought I might be sent to the principal academy of my native State at Exeter, and placed under the tutelage of the celebrated Dr. Abbott, who was for more than half a century the principal of that institution. During that period it gathered within its walls more distinguished men than any other academy of New England.* The students were of a higher order than those * Phillips Exeter Academy, one of the oldest endowed classical schools in New England, was founded by Dr. John Phillips, of Andover. Its char- ter is dated April 3, 1781 ; it is therefore the oldest institution of learn- ing established by State authority in New Hampshire, Dartmouth Col- lege having been chartered by royal grant in 1769. Dr. Abbott was principal for just half a century — from 1788 to 1838. In the Catalogue for 1869 there is a charming picture of Dr. Abbott, who is represented as a man of firmness and dignity of character united with great natural sweetness of disposition and suavity of manners: " He never met the youngest academy scholar in the street without lifting his hat entirely from his head, as in courteous recognition of an equal ; and an abashed and awkward attempt to return the compliment was the ur- chin's first lesson in good-manners and respect for his teacher." Among the characteristic usages of the academy were these : "4. After worship is begun they are not to rise up to any who may enter. At all other times they shall rise and bow respectfully to gentle- men Avhen they enter the room and when they leave it. " 5. Every student shall be exact upon his attendance on all the exer- cises of this academy. He shall carefully prepare for them, and not fail to sweep, kindle fire, ring the bell, shut up the academy, tend the fire, etc., each in his turn, and exactly at the time required. " 9. As the character and usefulness of men greatly depend upon ami- able and engaging manners, the Preceptor would highly recommend, and strictly requires, a constant and persevering attention to the rules of true honor and politeness, and a careful endeavor to express tiie principles of unaffected benevolence, by a cheerful readiness to perform every kind of- fice in their power, and to do it in the most obliging and becoming man- ner; ever remembering that great favors are diminished, and that small ones greatly increase, by the manner in which they are conferred. A gift may be unkindly bestowed, and a favor kindly and politely refused. "10. All students shall strictly observe and persevcringly practise 1798-1821.] THE REVERED DR. ABBOTT. 81 in the academy I had just left. I found a large number of young men of the most respectable families of Massachusetts, and some, from that State, who became distinguished in after- good-manners and civility to all ; condescension and kindness to those younger than themselves, affability and good-manners to their equals, and their language and behavior to superiors shall be decent and respect- ful, never speaking disrespectfully of them or their conduct when absent. This rule is carefully to be observed to all men of public character. These important rules are highly recommended and strongly enforced, ns containing the sum of virtue and benevolence, agreeable to that com- plete rule of virtue and honor — whatsoever you can rationally desire others should do for you, that do for them in the kindest manner." I add the following eulogy of Dr. Abbott, from the work already re- ferred to : " It was not strange, then, that he gained so strong a hold upon the love and respect of his pupils. To them he always appeared as if sur- rounded by some invisible enclosure, which even the boldest could not overstep without a bowed head and a feeling almost of awe. Others may have been equally or even more successful as mere teachers ; but in the gcDcral discipline of mind and character, in exerting an influence upon the boy which continued through the subsequent life of the man, no instructor ever surpassed him. It was a common remark among his pupils that it was a shame to deceive Dr. Abbott, or to tell him a lie ; and even if one ventured to do so he had a sort of uncomfortable con- sciousness that the doctor had detected him, but saw fit to overlook the offence and allow it to be its own punishment. He was a competent scholar after the fashion of his day, though he made no pretension to wide and accurate learning. It was rather his pride to induce his pupils, by their own efforts, to surpass their instructor in scholarshij). But he had excellent taste, and a hearty appreciation of the beauties of the Latin and Greek authors, which he never failed to impart to his classes. "To those who never studied under Dr. Abbott this picture may seem overcharged ; but it was not mere accident which procured for him un- interrupted success and surpassing influence as head of the academy for fifty years, or which gave him such pupils as Lewis Cass, Joseph Stevens Buckminster, Daniel Webster, Lcverett Saltonstall, Nathaniel A. Haven, Joseph Q. Cogswell, Theodore Lyman, Edward Everett, the twin Pea- bodys, John A. Dix, John G. Palfrey, Jared Sparks, George Bancroft, Jonathan Chapman, Ephraim Peabody, and a host of others whom the country delights to honor." n til f.) Ui 89 MEMOriS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. life for their literary acqiurements. Sparks was just leaving, and Palfrey was a fellow-student with mo for more than a year. There was a gravity, not to say a stateliness, in the ad- ministration of this institution which was in strong contrast with the easy-going management of the other. The extended career of Dr. Abbott furnishes the best proof of his fitness for the position which he held with such distinguished success. I remember him as a man of solemnity, and not seeming to me to possess those qualities which invito familiarity on the part of his pupils. Those who knew him intimately may have found in him qualities which a student, meeting him only as one in authority, would fail to discover. I should de- scribe him as very able, very just, and very devoted. That he had a rich vein of humor I know, for it was my fortune to open and develop it. But for the circumstance I allude to I think I should have terminated my connection with this in- stitution without leaving any trace of my presence, except the registration of my name in the catalogue of students. I be- lieve I was diligent, and made good progress in my classical course. It was as a speaker that I was remembered by the academic staff and my fellow-pupils ; though it must be con- fessed that my notoriety (I cannot call it distinction) was not of the most exalted character. My performance came off at one of the periodical exercises in public speaking. I had found in an old English magazine a burlesque account of the Siege of Troy, and after some hesitation 1 resolved to test the self-possession of our grave and reverend seigniors. I under- stood perfectly that it was an audacious experiment, and that unless it was as audacious in the execution as in the design it would prove an ignominious failure. I determined, therefore, that it should not miscarry for want of dramatic effect. I in- trusted no one with my secret, not even my fellow-boarders. Palfrey prepared the way for me by a recitation calculated to deepen the prevailing gravity. "When he pronounced the first line — "In yonder cave, formed by no mortal hand, a hermit lived" — <( I. fell 1798-1821.] A RECITATION CLAMOROUSLY APPLAUDED. 33 he undertook, by an appropriate motion^of liis own mortal liand, to show liovv it was done. After a very creditable per- formance for an imdisciplined neophyte in the school of ora- tory he made his exit, deepening the natural solemnity of the piece by a kindred gravity of manner. If, as has been said, there is always a charm in contrasts, the field for my perform- ance could not have been better prepared ; and I had the fore- sight to see that I could make it more striking by keeping up a discordance between my manner and my matter. My grav- ity was not exceeded by that of my predecessor. It was, there- fore, like a sudden awakening from a solemn reverie when I made the customary academic bow and commenced : " Tlie Grecians came running to Troy — The Trojans went running to meet tbcm : It is known to eacli little school-boy " [an appropriate gesture, embracing the whole body of stu- dents. Sparks included] " How tlie Greeks they horse-jockeyed and beat them." My solicitude as to the reception of my performance was in- creased during the recital of tlie first two lines by an expres- sion on the face of Dr. Abbott, which I fancied to be a doubt on his part whether he should let me proceed or order me off the stage. But the horse - jockeying was too much for his gravity and that of the other professors, and the students, en- couraged by the sign, gave audible vent to their mirth. Thus relieved from my anxiety, I delivered the remaining stanzas with an effect which was received with clamorous applause : " No house could that day be endured — They made them too hot for the holders ; And ^neas, not being insured, Set off with his dad on his shoulders. " His fortune ho tried on the ocean — And then such palavering stories ! To Dido he told with emotion — Jubes renovare dolores. L-3 ii.1 ': ! m 31 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. "When he'd gained all his ends, ' Dear ^ncas,' Said she, ' if you love your poor Dido, When you're coming this way, call and sec us.* Thinks he, 'I'll be hanged if I do.' " ' Sister Anne,' then said she, ' all is done, And he's off— only see what a way 'tis; He's gone with his saucy young son, And that rascal his Jidtis Ac/uites.'' " A cord round her neck she suspended, The one end a bedpost was tied to — I'm sorry the story's so ended. But there was an end of poor Dido !" T retired, "with my pockct-Landkercliief to my eyes, in mock distress at the tragical end of the disconsolate widow, and was followed by long- continued plaudits, in which the Faculty joined. Some months afterward a simple-minded youth at- tempted to repeat the experiment; but he liad hardly pro- nounced the first line when the Rev. Principal called out, in a voice of thunder, " Leave the stage, sir!'^ It was one of those achievements of which the flavor, as well as the glory, evaporates with the first performance. At the end of a year my studies terminated, and without leaving any strong impression on my mind as to the institu-. tion except that its administration was orderly and ably con- ducted. There was nothing in my associations or my i^ersonal experience so strongly marked as to be often recurred to in subsequent years. The following year I was sent to Montreal, and became a pupil in the College. I made the dreariest of all journeys through New Hampshire and Vermont. It was in the latter part of the month of March, and the snow was rapidly dissolv- ing, so that the gentleman who had charge of me, and I, were frequently under the necessity of going on foot while the horses were drawing the sleigh painfully over the bare ground. It was during the prevalence of that horrible hibernal disease 1798-1821.] AT COLLEGE IN MONTREAL. 86 known as tho spotted fever, and wo were several nights obliged to stop in taverns, whoso inmates were lying ill with it. At length we reached the St. Lawrence and crossed it on foot. The last sleigh had broken in, and tho next day the river showed only a mass of moving ice. Such was my introduction to Montreal.^ My father sent me to tho college principally for the pur- pose of acjuiring the French language ; and as English was not spoken, with a single exception, by any of the professors * Tlie following letter, written to liim by his father, will be read with interest : " Boscawcn, May 27tli, 1811. " Adams, my deau Boy, — Wc have waited long and witii niueh anxi- ety till lust week to hear from you, when wc received yours of the 25th March, and with it a letter from Mr. Atkinson of the 30th Ap'l. We liad, liowever, three or four weeks previously rcc'd a letter from Mr. Wilkins, informing us of 'your safe arrival at Montreal after a tedious journey, of your health, etc' I con ludc your journey must have been very tedious, if you were, as Mr, AtU nson tells nie, ' compelled to stump thro' tlie mud on foot from Burling i ;' am much pleased that you so soon gained a situation in the College, I hope it vill prove both agree- able and advantageous; I do not entertain a doubt that your conduct will be such as to secure not only the approbation but the applause of the Government of the College, to do which may bo of much importance to you. We were a little disappointed in not receiving a longer letter from you, with a more particular account of your journey, of the novel- ties you have seen, and the new scenes you have witnessed. We con- clude, however, you wanted time, and have them in reserve for future letters, which we depend on receiving soon, and certainly shall not peaceably dispense with ; 'tis now time that we had three letters from you, and have had but one, and that dated more than two months ago ; you must not neglect us so. " I was at my settlement in Dixville a few weeks ago. I was then, I suppose, within aljout 100 miles of Montreal ; I thought of you and looked over the mountains, but could not see you. I shall go to Bos- ton to-morrow, and shall hope and expect to find letters from you on my return, in about 8 days. The children and our friends are all well ; all that can lisp of the former send love to you. Give my compliments to Messrs. Atkinson, Peterson, and Wilkins. " Your father, Timothy Dix, Jr. "John Adams Dix." 86 MEMOIBS OF JOHN ADAMS BIX. n I ' and few of the students, my progress was very rapid. Here, too, I may say, although I had studied Latin and Greek in the superficial way in which those languages were taught in the academies in the United States at that period, the real founda- tions of my classical education were laid. Every step was thoroughly mastered before another was allowed to be taken. I had never felt much interest in these studies before ; but I now acquired a fondness for them, and particularly the Latin, which I have never lost, and vhich has led me to pursue them to some extent under the most unfavorable circumstances and at the most laborious periods of my life. I attribute it alto- gether to the clear comprehension which I acquired of their structure ; for it is not easy to take an interest in thtit wdiich we do not understand. My knowledge of the Greek was lost, I am sorry to say, after a few years ; but the Latin I have continued to study and read every day, w4th brief periods of intermission ; and if anything I have written or spoken in a somewhat extended career of official service has any force, I believe it to be chiefly due to my constant acquaintance with a language which condenses so much thought into so small a volume of words. The principal. Monsieur Roque, and the professors for the most part, were priests, adherents of Louis XYL, who had emigrated from France during the Revolution. They were men of learning, perfect purity of character, and above all narro\> ness of thought and action. I lived in the College, and wa& required to conform to its religious as well as its scholastic discipline ; that is, 1 attended all the services in the chapel of the College during the six days in the week, and on Sunday marched with my fellow-students in procession, escorted by the professors, to the Cathedral Church in the city, to attend the celebration of Grand Mass. There were a few other stu- dents from the United States ; yet no attempt was made, even by indirection, to influence our religious opinions. When I left the College to return to my home. Monsieur Roque, on taking leave of me, with strong and affectionate expressions 1798-1821.] PLEASANT REMEMBRANCES. 87 of interest in my future welfare, said to me, " You have, no doubt, noticed that we have never spoken to you on the sub- ject of religion ; but you know, from the frequency of our daily services, how essential to our salvation we consider it. We knew that your father was a Protestant, and it was as a Protestant child that he placed you with us for your educa- tion ; and we should have been guilty of a breach of trust if we had sought to convert you from his way of thinking. But I trust, my dear child, that you will be a religious man, and that you will never allow a day to pass without thank- ing our Heavenly Father for his mercies to you, and asking liis blessing on your future life." I need not say that I was deeply affected by this good man's parting words. The other priests — Iloudet, Riviere, and Richards — took leave of me in the same affectionate manner, and I had a pleasant correspond- ence with several of them until the bonds between us were sev- ered by their deatli. My conduct was satisfactory to them, and my proficiency in study was in advance of that of most of my fellow-students. Indeed, I was usually at the head of my class, or next to the head ; and my instructors often encour- aged me to exertion by telling me that I had talents, which, with diligent cultivation, would give me a distinguished career in life. I paid a visit to the College not long ago. It had been removed from a suburb on the river to the mountain which overlooks the city and giv^es it its name, Mont-rdal. Of the personnel of the institution none remained but the porter, who was nearly a hundred years of age ; and us my visit brought to my remembrance the good men who had sent out on the voyage of lite hundreds of youths with so rich a freight of well-formed liabits and pure counsels, it suggested with striking vividness a thought whieli has recently by a popular author been moulded into a beautiful and just tribute to tho imobtrusive labors of some of the world's best benefactors and guides : " Tlic growing good of the world is jiartly dependent on iinhistoric acts ; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been is half owing to the nura- V 1 % \ 38 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS VIX. l I I ber who lived faithfully a hidden life and rest in unvisited tombs."* The year 1812 is made memorable in our history by the declaration of war against Great Britain. Wearied with her long-continued depredations on our commerce and her insults to our flag, Congress began early in the year to prepare for seeking redress by an appeal to arms, and by passing an act to raise a large military force. I was then nearly fourteen years of age, and had been fifteen months in College. My father intended that I should remain there another year ; but in view of the threatening aspect of our relations with Great Britain he determined to withdraw me, and wrote that he would call for me and take me with him to Quebec, which he wished to see.f Before he could execute his purpose he re- * My father's stay at the College of 3Iontreal, though brief, was not ■witliout a strong and lasting influence on his life. He held the place, and the venerable and devoted priests, in loving and grateful remem- brance, and delighted to recall incidents connected with the time spent under their care. I remember, in particular, his account of the Easter service in the chapel ; and how he would repeat, and sing to the old plain song tune, the hymn which the school-boys sung that day: " O Filii et Filia;, Hex coelestis. Rex gloria? Morte surrexit hodie, Alleluia! Alleluia!" The visit to his old Alma Mater, to which he modestly alludes, was made in the year 1805, when he wn? u major-general in the United States service, and Commander of the Department of the East. Being in Montreal on business of the Government, he was invited to the College, and received there with every attention and honor. My father had nothing of that strong feeling against the Roman Catiioli'^ Church Avhich was, and is, so marked a feature in the Puritans and their de- scendants. He had devoted friends and lovers among its people ; when he lay ill prayers were offered for him daily in more than one religious house, and, after his death, the holy s.icrificc was tenderly offered on their altars for the repose of his soul. + " Boscawcn, May, 13, 1812. " My DEAii Boy, — I have written to Mr. Peterson to make preparations 179&-1821.] THE EXIGENCIES OF WAE. 39 ceived the appointment of major in the army, and sent me a summons to return home immediately. I had hardly reached the frontier when war was declared, and all citizens of the United States over fourteen years of age were ordered to leave Canada, or take the oath of allegiance to Great Britain. It was a source of great regret to my father, and has always been to me, that my studies in this excellent institution were thus abruptly and prematurely terminated. I spoke French with tolerable fluency, and had acquired a perfect accc^ic, but an- other year was needed to enable me to write and speak it with the same freedom as my native tongue. No child ever had greater cause for thankfulness to a parent than I had to my father for his untiring efforts to give me a superior education.* for your return the last of this month ; am very sorry that my business is such as to prevent me from coming for you. I had anticipated much pleasure from an idea of the journey. Adams, you will be careful of yourself, your trunks, etc., on your journey. You must have a trunk that will hold your books and clothes, and they must be stowed perfectly close and crowded very hard, oilierwise when you travel in the stages your things will be worn to a chowder; very particular attention is necessary in this respect when journeying in stages. Doct. Shattuck is desirous that you sliould be at Boston in the month of June, otherwise I .should not have sent for you until 3 ou could have had Mr. Peterson's company. I am not without hopes, however, that you will still have his or that of some other acquaintance or gentleman travelling this way. Adams, do not fail to tender my warmest thanks and your own to your Avorthy governors and tutors, for their paternal care and kind attention to you. Am m haste, my dear boy, " Your affectionate Fatlier, T. Dix, Ju. "John Adams Dix." * The following letter, addressed to his father by Monsieur Roque, tlie head of the seminary, is a testimonial to the merit of the student and the fidelity of the teachers : "MoNSiEun, — Jc ne rdpondis point dans Ic tems S la lettrc par laquelle vous m'annonciez votre fils, parcequ'il me dit que vous n'auriez point u portCe quelqu'un pour la traduire. Muintcnant il la traduira lui-m6me. 11 poss&de passablement la langue fran9oise, ct il auroit encore mieux rC'ussi si sa sautC n'avait pas 6t6 dfirangde de tems en tems. ]\Ialgr6 40 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. On my return from Montreal I was sent to Boston, and placed in the family of Dr. George Cheyne Shattiick, a dis- tant relative of the family, and one of the most eminent phy- sicians of that city. My father was first appointed to the New Hampshire Eegiment, which was to form a part of the new levies ; but the numerical force of the regiments having been reduced from two thousand to one thousand men, he was transferred to the corps to be raised in Maryland, and was ordered to Baltimore to recruit his battalion.* It was cela, il a occupC Ics plus liautes places dans sa classe. On I'a appliqufi au fran^ois, au Latin, et it la g6ograi>hie. J'ai recounu en lui du talent, et j'ai dtC satisfait de sa conduite. Mr. Peterson m'a ofTert vos remerci- ments. Pour moi, je dCsire que cet enfant vraimeut interessant rdussisse dans son Education, et que le peu que nous avons fait jjour lui contribue a en faire un lionnGte homme et un bon ChrCticn. "J'ai riionneur d'etre, avec consideration. Monsieur, " Votre trcs-humble et tri5s-ob6issant serviteur, " ROQUE, " P'"- direct'- du petit sdminaire. "Montreal, 23 Mai, 1813." * Major Dix was very restless at being kept in Baltimore on the dull business of recruiting. He wrote to the Secretary of War as follows : " Baltimore, October 17, 1812." " Hon. Wm. Eustis, Secretary of War: " Sir, — At the time I accepted an appointment in the army I was in daily expectation of a war with Great Britain. A zealous desire to take an active part in avenging the wrongs of our much-injured and degraded countrj', and a desire of distinction as a soldier, were my inducements for entering the lists. I have now for five months been actively engaged in the recruiting service, and could I suppose that the interest of my country would be promoted by my continuance in this service, I would be silent still. But, Sir, the season is far advanced; it is imijossible to raise recruits fast here, or in this vicinity ; it is not probable that more than another comjiany can be sent from here in time to serve in this year's campaign ; the troops which are to go from here next week will be in season to see actual service, and so strong is my inclination to pro- ceed with them that I know not how to be reconciled to remain. Could I be assured that ' the battles would not all be fought and the laurels all gathered ' the present campaign, I would content myself to stay. But, Sir, if it is the expectation and intention to force as far as possible into 1798-1821.] ZEALOUS EARLY INSTRUCTORS. 41 under these circumstances that Dr. Shattuck took charge of me. He spared time from an extensive practice to hear my recitations in Latin, and ho engaged several personal friends to give me instruction in other studies. Nathan Hale, editor of the Boston Advertiser, gave me lessons in mathematics ; Senor Sales, afterward Professor of Modern Languages at Har- vard University, in Spanish ; and Captain Morse, of the new levies, a tragedian of some note at that period, who had just received his commission, and was recruiting his company, in elocution. It was the latter who, as has been mentioned previously in these memoirs, gave my father a flattering ac- count of my progress under his tuition. I was unquestion- ably greatly benefited by his instniction. Whether it would have been of a different cliaracter if he had been preparing me for the stage, I cannot say. But there was nothing in his teachings wliich had the least savor of the dramatic. It was the calmness and dignity of the forum, which he took pains to im- press on me as characteristic of the highest order of oratory.* the enemy's lines this season, I beseccli you that I may not be left be- hincl. I have the honor to be, etc., T. Dix, Jn., " Major, Utli Regiment U. S. Infantry," His services, however, were deemed of too much importance to be dis- pensed with, and he was required to remain. * " Baltimore, October 3, 1813. "Adams, MY deau Boy, — You are, I conclude, pursuing your studies with as much zeal as your health will allow of. Should jou attend to mathematics more than one quarter, I wish you may at the same time attend to elocution with Mr. Slorso, provided he is in Boston and can attend you. In case you cannot have his instruction, probably there is some other person you can have. I wish you to commence the study of the Spanish language soon ; I think four or six weeks more at mathe- matics will be as much as will be profitable at present. You ought oc- casionally to look into your Greek and Latin books, I have wi'itten to Dr. Shattuck on the subject of your studies. " Your affectionate Father, Timothy Dix, Major, " 14th Regt. U. S. Infantry, " Baltimore, Maryland. " N.B. — Address your letters as above." r \ I' ml i\ liiii I 42 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. The six months which I passed under the direction of these accomplished gentlemen were months of unceasing labor, and the habits of application which I acquired were of infinite service to me in after-life. Certainly, no young man of my age could have had advantages superior to mine ; and when thrown upon my own unassisted exertions, a few years later, I often felt that I had not profited by them as I might have done if I had appreciated them at tlie time as I ought. But I had become possessed with so strong a desire to go into the military service, that I was becoming indifferent to my studies, and Dr. Shattuck advised my father to gratify me.* The lat- * With what reUictancc Dr. Shattuck consented may be inferred from the following letter, which my fatlier preserved with tho utmost care, and gave to me, years ago, for safe keeping : "Dear Sir, — I have the pleasure to acknowledge the receipt of yours in relation to Adams' going to the army. While my mind is filled with regret that a lad of such promise is to be surrounded with temptations almost too heavy not to canker his present unexceptionable habits of in- dustry and virtue, some solace is found in the expectation that he will be pretty constantly guarded by a father's vigilance. Your son has a genius which quite as well qualifies him for excellence in the civil as the mili- tary department; and the civil departm-^nt holds uj) more splendid rec- ords for the exercise of great talents than are to be found in the military of a Republic which is little liable to invasion. These remarks are found- ed on the possibU influence of an acquaintance in the army to give your son an unconquerable predilection for a military life, which, if there be stability in our republican institutions, could promise no man of talents any adequate reward. Capt. Ebcnezer Morse says Adams possesses un- common constitutional facilities for becoming an orator — the forum, not the camp, is the place for the gift of tongues. I hope you will not relin- quish the idea of his becoming a graduate at some respectable university, and that you will encourage him in gaining an extended knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages and of mathematics, before he may go to the university. The Hon. J. Q. Adams is said to have translated (on paper) the classics into English, which, at thcsame time it directed his attention to the critical comprehension of the learned languages, gave him great facility in English composition. Your son has translated into English the orations of Cicero, which he has studied while at our house. I submit it to your serious consideration whether Adams would not be 1798-1821.] IRBEPBESSIBLE MILITARY ARDOR. 43 ter, wlio wished me to go to college, and then embrace one of the learned professions, did everything in his power to discour- age me ; and it was not until I had actually filled up and signed a blank enlistment, and asked him to let me go into the service as a common soldier, that he gave way. When the Senators from New Hampshire, recommended him for a major's appointment he wrote to the Secretary of War that he would not refuse a captaincy, if he could not have a higher rank, and that he was determined to go into the service, even if he had to go as volunteer.* I asked him whether so patri- otic an example by the father ought not to be followed by the son. lie had no answer to such a home question, and finally told me he would endeavor to procure for me the appoint- advantaged by making a careful written translation of all the Latin and Greek classics he may study. "Adams has pledged his word that all his time (not necessarily de- voted to the study of military tactics) shall be consumed in the study of languages and mathematics, Tliat you may be prospered in all your laudal)le undertakings, but especially your efforts to train Adams to a high degree of honorable usefulness, ia the earnest wisli of, Sir, your friend and servant, Geo. C. Shattuck. " Timothy Dix, Esquire. "Boston, January 17, 1813." | * The following is a copy of the letter referred to. It is uncertain to whom it was addressed, but probably to one of the Senators from New Hampshire, at Washington : " Boscawen, February 34, 1813. "My dear Sir, — Yours of the 5th instant has just come to hand. Could I be assured that my only destination would be a descent on the Canadas, I would accept the command of a company, or even less. In fact, I am determined, in such an event, to go in some capacity, if it should be that of a private volunteer. But I have no notion of being concerned in any long, lazy establisiiment, or in an idle Oxford war, or even in a stationary guard for our seaboard fortitications. An idea that I might be of some use to my country in case of a descent on Canada, was my motive for proposing myself as a candidate for a field-ofHce ; and, actuated by the same motive, I will not refuse an inferior command, pro- vided you are confident this will be my only destination. In any other I am sure I could not be useful. Yours truly, " TiMO. Dix, Jr." I' i 'i i; i.(( t I 44 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. ment of cadet. To satisfy liim how well qualified I was to endure the hardships of a campaign, I availed myself of the opportunity, while visiting friends twenty-eight miles out of Boston, to walk into the city between breakfast and tea, with a crust of bread in my pocket, greatly to the distress of my legs and the disturbance of my digestion for the next three or four days. The cadet's appointment came at last : " Wnr Department, December 11, 1812. "Sm, — Herewith enclosed you will receive the appointment of Cadet in the Service of the United States; on receipt of which you will please to communicate your acceptance or non-acceptance, and in case of ac- cepting, you will report yourself to Major Dix, of the 14th Infantry, and receive his orders. Respectfully, " W. EUSTIS. " Cadet J. A. Dix, Boston." Accompanying this was the following letter : " Baltimore, December 14, 1813. " MoN ciiEU FiLS, — You will find herewith an appointment which will doubtless be gratifying to you. I must, however, caution you against being too much gratified, I really have many doubts whether it will or will not eventually be for your advantage. "You will not by any means suffer it to interrupt your literary pur- suits. In fact, ?no)i chcr Jik, you must 'double your diligence,' and the zeal of your exertions for useful knowledge must be limited only by a regard for your health. ♦' Should you think proper to accept the appointment, something like the enclosed will be proper for your answer to the Secretary of War ; copy it handsomely on a good sheet of letter paper, and enclose it in an- other thick paper. I shall write you again and give you some direc- tions. You will write to me immediately on receipt of this. " Am in much haste, mon cherjils, " Your afiectionate Father, T. D., Jr. "J. A. D." In pursuance of this exhortation to renewed diligence I had no sooner reached Baltimore than my father entered my name as a day-scholar in St. Mary's College ; and in the even- ing, and often before school-hours in the morning, I assisted I 1798-1821.] AT WASHINGTON. 45 him in liis duties as a recruiting officer.* With these com- bined occupations I think I was as diligently employed dur- ing the ensuing three months as I had ever been at any period of my life. In March, 1813, my father's battalion and two or three ad- ditional companies were ready for the field, and he took me with him to Washington, to close his recruiting accounts.f * There were other duties in addition to these. In the latter part of the year 1813 the towns in the Chesapeake were threatened by the Brit- ish fleet, and Major Dix was, in addition to his duties at Baltimore, charged with the command of Annapolis, forty miles distant. The fol- lowing letter, written by him to the Adjutant-general, shows his activity and devotion to the public service : " Baltimore, December 14, 1813. " Sin, — After parting with the Secretary of War you permitted me to make my election whether to go to Annapolis myself, or send one of my captains. On considering all circumstances I think it most advisable to do both ; that is, I will repair to Annapolis immediately, and take charge of the forts. I can, without injury to the recruiting rendezvous, take sixty-five recruits and a captain witii me. I will spend Mondays, Tues- days, and Wednesdays (and Thursdays, if thought necessary) at the forts, and the remaining time at Baltimore. "... I will call my son (John A. Dix), lately appointed a cadet,who is subject to my order, here immediately, to serve me as a clerk. He is capable, honest, and faithful; may receive all communications in my ab- sence, and transmit me by mail to Annapolis, immediately, copies of such as are necessary. ... It will make my task a little more arduous, but I am willing to undertake it. I have a horse that will carry me to An- napolis in four hours; therefore do not value the travelling. "However, this or any other arrangement that may be considered advisable will be promptly attended to. " I have the honor to be, etc., T. Dix, " Major, 14th Regiment U. S. Infantry. "T. 11. CusniNO, Esq., Adjutant-general." t " Baltimore, March 3, 1813. " Sin, — You will doubtlessly blame me for not writing you sooner, but I have been very much engaged since I have been here, and have bad time to write home but once. " On my arrival here I found I had more to do than I had imagined. "a^Y father, besides inspecting the accounts of all the ofBcers in his dis- ii 46 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. He presented nic as a newly-appointed cadet to General Arm- strong, the Secretary of War, who said to me, " So you arc going to the Military Academy ; what preparation have you made?" I told him what my studies had been during the two preceding years, and what progress I had made in French, Spanish, mathematics, and the classics, when he said, " Well, young gentleman, I think there is not much for you to learn at West Point, except military tactics. How would you like to go to the frontier V I replied, of course, that I should be delighted. " Then," said he, " if your father will consent, I will give you an ensign's commission." The consent was trict, has six returns to make out every week, duplicates of wliich lie for- wards to tiic Adjutant-general at Washington ; has the command of two forts at Annapolis ; and has to receive and deliver clothing, money, etc., to all the recruiting officers in Maryland and the District of Columbia. "I am kept continually on the run or delivering clothing to the offi- cers. I have been to Washington, Annapolis, and Georgetown, and expect to go to Annapolis again in a short time. "My father has been very much engaged for a week in sending a de- tachment of men to the lines, consisting of three companies of infantry and one of riflemen, under the command of Colonel Winder, " Tiicy will march for Albany to-morrow, and there will receive fur- ther orders, which will probably be to join General Dearborn's army, "By the short description which I have given you of the situation of our atfairs you will easily discover that I have but little time to study, but depend that little shall be well employed. When the men are gone and afl'airs a little settled, I shall write to Miss Williams and Mr, Doane. "I am very sorry for having incurred perhaps your displeasure for not writing sooner, but I shall be more punctual in future, as I shall have less to do, and more of my time also will be devoted to my studies. " It is impossible to fix upon any number of hours to study, as on some days I have eight or ten hours, and on others not more than two or three, I shall not go to Annapolis to study, as I expected to do when I left Bos- ton, but shall continue here to assist my father until he marches to Can- ada, which will be at tiie end of spring, " Please to present my respects to Sirs, Derby, Mrs, Davis, Mrs, Siiat- tuck. Miss Williams, Mr. Doane, Mr. West, and Capt. Morse, " Your humble servant, John Adams Dix. " Dr. Geo. C. Suattuck." 1798-1821.] / JOIN THE ARMY. 47 obtained, and on the 8th of March, 1813, when I lacked four months of being fifteen years of age, I was appointed an en- sign in the Fourteenth Ileginient of U. S. Infantry, and joined the army, at Sackett's Harbor, in tlie following April, a few days after General Jacob Brown, then a militia officer, and afterward Commander-in-chief of the army, repulsed an at- tack by the British forces, and the naval commander, despair- ing of the result, burnt all the naval and military stores cap- tured the previous autumn at Little York, now Toronto.* ♦ " Sackett's Harbor, August 8, 1813. "Honored Sin, — You will pardon my long silence when I inform you what has boon my employment, and how much I liavc been engaged since I wrote you last; shortly after which I received the appointment of an ensign in the Fourteenth Regiment. About the same time my futiier received orders to collect his troops, and prepare himself to march to the lines. To do this, settle his accounts with the officers, organize the troops, and prepare for the march, occupied our time day and night, till we marched, on the 2Cth of 3Iay. I left the College at Baltimore with some reluctance. My prospects for improvement were tolerable, and I had formed several acquaintances with young gentlemen of the College which were interesting ; among them was young Bonaparte, and sev- eral others of the best families in Baltimore. " Our march from Baltimore to this place was very pleasant. On ar- riving at West Point my father, two or three of the officers, and myself went on shore, visited the old forts, the Military Academy, etc., etc. "The forts were out of repair, but were to be repaired inunediately. There were but seventeen scliolars at the Academy; about fifty more were expected in a few weeks. Cajjtain Partridge, of the Engineers, had command of the post. A lieutenant from Massachusetts was the second in command. Tiiese were the only officers there. "The lieutenant has been in the service two or three years; said he , was at Cambridge College with you. We were treated with great po- liteness by both of the officers. " I had the pleasure at Utica to find my old friend and correspondent Kirkland, whom you have often heard me mention. lie is now a mem- ber of the Hamilton College. His father is a wealthy, respectable law- yer. My father halted the troops one day at Utica. I spent the whole time with Kirkland at his father's, and on a visit to the College. "The College is in Clinton, a considerable large village, eight or nine 48 MEMOIRS OF JOUN ADAMS DIX. Sliortly after my arrival an inflopendcnt l)attalion was or- ganized, conKiHtin*; of nine companies, and ]>laccd under tho command of Major Timothy Upham, of the Twenty-first U. S. Infantry, wlio ajjpointed me his adjutant. From June to Oc- tober tliis portion of llic army was in entire inaction. It was then united witli tlio troo^w which had been acting on tho Niagara frontier, and tho combined force was i)laced under the command of General Wilkinson for the expedition against '; I ^ lit; :J^ • n' 'I! Ji niilos from Utica. It is situated on a hill, about half of a mile from tho centre of the village. It is of wood — three stories high, and appears very elegant from tlie village. There were but twenty or thirty scholars there, but the number is fast increasing. " We parted with some reluctance, I assure you, though with tho promise of writing one another once a week. "My attention is at present somewhat engaged with military affairs, and I am very much jjleased with the employment, I assure you, but be- lieve I shall not lose my relish for civil society. I am attached to a company, and do my sliare of all the duties. I spend two or three houra each day in the Adjutant -general's office as an assistant. This will afford me an opportunity of understanding all the details of an army. The Adjutant-general is a smart, active, vigilant, and experienced officer, and possesses very brilliant talents. " I will mention a circumstance which, I fancy, will please you. Jly father, before he would permit me to accept my appointment, required me to give him a bond under hand and seal obligating me to 'remain in the service no more than two years, then to leave the army and finish my studies, unless I should obtain his permission ; or, in case of his de- cease. Dr. Shattuek's permission to remain a longer time.' "I brought with me a number of school-books, Avhich I attend to two or three hours each day. I shall endeavor, therefore, to hold my grouml at least in literature. " My father sends his respects to your family. Please to j to :Mrs. Derby's and Mr. West's families, iMr?. Davis, Mrs. Shall MuUc moisellc Williams, Monsieur Doane, etc. " Votre tris-7iu7nble scrviteur, "J. A. Dix„ "Dr. Geo. C. Soattuck. " N.B. — Please to direct a letter to ' Ensign John A. Dix, 14th Regt., U. S. Inf., Sackett's Harbor, N. Y.' " p 1798-1821.] COMPANIONS IN A II MS. 49 ^[ontrcal, in which (irencral Hampton was to co-opcratc with an army concentrated at natt8hurndence." Colonel Cliarles G. Haines, a member of the New York Bar, and a prominent politician of that day, writes to him about the same time, referring to certain articles from his pen : "It is proper for me to remark that your essiiys have been republished very generally throughout the western country."- The junior editor of the Statebuian informs me that they are * I.e., the western counties of tLc State of New York. 1321-1829.] LITHE An Y INDUSTRY. 67 reinarkiil^ly popular, and I have seen them reprinted in sev- eral of the Eastern papers. All this is gratifying to nie. Any tribute to your genius gives nie joy and ^^Icasure." I may add here that Colonel Haines Avas Adjutant-general of the State under Governor Clinton ; that he and my father were warm friends and constant correspondents ; and that, upon the death of Colonel Haines, my father Avrotc and pub- lished an obituary notice of him. I have before me a largo volume of newspaper cuttings, containing a striking proof of his industry. There are articles, published under divers nonis de 2)lume, in many of the leading journals of Washington, New York, and Albany, and compris- ing contributions on all kinds of subjects. In the columns of the Wi(6-hhi(jf(ni lu'jniUlccoV^ and Wit tonal InteUitjencei' he replies to criticisms on the economy and efficiciu-y of the Sec- retary of War, aiul defends the department or which Mr. Cal- houn was then the head from "gross and unfounded charge'i." In the New York Statesman for the years 1822 and 1S23 may be found articles, under the signatures oi 'Tericles," "Amphion," and "Publicola," relating to the political state of Europe, iinance, music, and the fine arts. He also gave a history of the ]Magara campaign of 1812, in six successive numbers of that journal. f The JVew York Patriotic contains dissertations on the tariff, national defence, and agriculture and manufactures, together with a sjries of brilliant and caus- tic letters in which he paid special, and prol)ably unwelcome, respects to Major Mordecai M. Noah. Did the space at my command peraiit it, I might justify, by reprinting several of these conununications, the opinion tliat they display a nuitu- rivy of thought :nid a polish of style, a force of logic and an amount of literary attaimnent remarkable iji so young a man ; and that they had much to do with estal)Hbiiing his re])utation for briglitness and ability, and preparing for the transition * A.D. 1822, signed "X." J A.D. 1833. siigucd " Fabius." t A.D. 1822, signed "Cinion.'' m 4 A 1 r GS MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. 1^ hi from tliG narrow sphere of the military profession to the broader field of political life. Meanwhile, he did not deem it beneath him to woo the Muse of Poetry, as is evident from the contents of another nuuiuscri[)t volume, filled with copies of veri?es a aich, no doubt, Avero highly ajipreciated by the fair ladies to whom most of them were addressed. There are acrostics and charades, iiionodies over the brevity of life, com- plimentary stanzas to reigning belles, and divers sportive effu- sions. Among these I find one headed with this memorandum : "It has been customary in Washington, on the Twelfth- night of each year, to crown a rpieen, and it was the l)usines3 of the king to address her majesty, and to impose her regal honors npon her head. In 18:22 Miss Wirt (the daughter of the Attorne^'-general) was selected for queen, and I had the lionor of being selected for king. The following address was delivered at her coronation, in full assembly of heads of de- partments, members of Congress, foreign muiisters, etc." Then follow verses snch as might have been expected on the occasion, together with the queen's gracious reply to the king's addiess. It touches the heart to read these little poems, now dim in the faded ink, and like withered leaves from which the color fied long since ; yet it seems hardly worth while to give them a new life in these pages. Every youth has his dream-day, wherein he takes naturally to rhyming, and seeks to express in that form emotions that move the soul ; but the era passes by, and Avith it, perhaps, n'ight bettci perish the frail memorials of that transitory existence. The queen of the Twelfth-night, and her king, and all her court, are dust ; the sound of their merriment Mas hushed long since ; and now, in turning over these little compositions, one by one, I lose sight of the young soldier, and sec him as he vras forty-one years afterward, gray and weather-worn, and seated in his (puirters at Fortress Mon- roe, overshadowed by the Avide war-cloud, thinking of country and God, and translating the awful Dies //w, when the night- Avatch had been set, and his own night Avas far spent. 1821-1828.] THE WOULD-FAMOUS DOCTOR ABERNETnT. GO During those early years my father bore the cross of ill- health. His account of his varied miseries and trials is suffi- ciently entertaining to merit preservation, especially as it re- lates a characteristic; interview M'ith one of the most learned and eccentric of the medical profession in England. I take it from the jSfciv Yorh Avwriean. It is headed by the omi- nous word " Dyspepsia," and begins as follows : " 3Ir. Editor, — The multitiule of counsellors on this prevailing infirm- ity, who have humanely been spreading iiifore mankind the history of their experience, and laying down rules lor our physical government, have so distntcted their fellow-sufferers by a variety, and even a contrari- ety, of ])recept, that I consider it no more than charity to attempt the solution of all this apparent mystery in the treatment of tlie disease. In the fu'st i)lace, however, let us take a peep at my credentials. I have been a dyspeptic since the year 1813, and a coniirmed one since 1820. The foundations of my complaint were laid during the campaign of 1813, by a slow fever, jaundice, and camp disease at Sackett's Harbor; by bad pork {pcstc soit a messieurs les contnidcurs !) ; sleeping in swamps and mud-puddle$, on General Wilkinson's celebrated movement down the St. Lawrenje in the same year; and living in a tent at French Mills, lati- tude 4-1'' K, until the 4th of December. From 1818 to 1825 I was five times salivated for the liver complaint — which I never had; my person was subjv!cted by tlie first pliysicians of the country to every variety of process which the healing art (ah, much abused in name I) could devise, and at the end of that time I was discharged as incurable; and a host of leecliers, cuppers, bleeders, and apothecaries, rife with my spoils, were turned off to prey upon other victims. I commenced travelling; ex- hausted my own country in novelty, from Elaine to Florida, and fro;u Lake Superior to Long Island Sound; traversed the Caril)bean Sea, and luxuriated as Avell as a miserable invalid might amid its enchanting isles; crossed the Atlantic — 'Mutatis tcrris ipiantum oculis' — visited al- most every civilized country in Europe, and I'nally drew up in despair at the den of that medical bear, as the world has grossly miscalled him, Mr. Abernethy, of London, lie received me with great civility, heard a few words of my story, and cut me short as follows : " ' Sir, you are pretty i'ar gone, and tlie wonder is you are not gone en- tirely. If you had consulted common-sense instead of the medical fac- ulty you would i)rol>ably have been well years ago. I can say nothing to you excepting this : you must take regular exercise, as much as you can bear without fatigue ; as little medicine as possible, of the simplest kind, t * 70 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. l w III 1 nil and this only M'hcn absolutely necessary ; and a moderate quantity of plain food, of the quality wliicii you find by experience best to agree with you. No man, not even a physician, can prescribe diet for another : "a stomach is a stomach ;" and it is impossible for any one to reason with safety from his own to that of any other person. There are a few gen- eral rules -which any man of common-sense may learn in a week — such as this, that rich food, high seasoning, etc., are injurious. I can say no more to you, sir: you must go and cure yourself "This is the only common-sense I have heard on the subject of dys- pepsia in the whole course of my life. From this time my cure com- mences; and, if I meet with no accident, I shall probably l)o seen some thirty years hence enjoying a green old age and a sound digestion." These hopes were fulfilled ; he did live to a green old age, attaining nearly eighty-one years, and I remember liow often he spoke of Abernethy, in what veneration he held him, and with what zest he would tell of the interview which he thus described. Still, the torment of a subtle disease gave him much annoy- ance, and even at one time threatened his hopes of success in the life of a civilian. In the year 1825 he appears to have decided to remain in the army, lia writes to a friend as follows : "My physician has been very frank with me in relation to my health, and has extended his view to my future course of life as connected witii it. I was in some measure prepared for what he said by the opinion of Dr. 15ell, Avho, in passing through Philadelpliia, had used the same free- dom witli me. The conviction, however, which my mind has yielded to their opinions is not the less distressing to my feelings, nor has it been conceded but upon a course of inde])endent rellections of my own. In one word, they have botli expressed the opinion tliat I cannot expect to regain my healtli Avith sedentary habits, and that I must give up for a time, if not forever, my new professional pursuits. Dr. Bell went so far as to say that to return to my office would be taking a direct and certain road to my grave, and that I could not expect to enjoy my health, if I should once regain it, in a city, with the regular application of law jjur- suits. It is unnecessary to say that thj necessity of abandoning the ob- jects to which I have devoted all my efforts and thoughts for the last six years gave a severe shock to my feelings. I cannot, however, con- tend against what is inevitable, and I have done what I could to recon- II ! u 1821-1828.] A MEMORABLE INTERVIEW. n cile myself to my fate. ... I of course neef one who merited the somewhat worn but just descrip- tion of "a gentlenum of the old school;" no other phrase ex- presses what he was. Highly educated and acconii)lislied, a good Latin scholar, Meriting and speaking the French lan- guage fluently, and having the manners of a day that has passed, he adorned the society in which he moved. He served the State as a Member of Assembly, and the country in Con- gress, and Avas at one time Collector of the Port of New York. AVhile still a young man he made an investment in lands in Madison, Herkimer, and Chenango counties, in this State, and for more than fifty years he never failed to spend the summer at a farm in ]>rooklield, some twenty-four miles south of Utica, where he indulged the tastes of an ardent dis-^ eij)le of Izaak Walton and a lover of country life. Thclaiids were purchased by him, under patent, from the State, lie was fond cf saying that he was tlttj first white man who ever owned them. When he went there, with his family, to take possession they had to find their way through the woods by the blaze-marks on the trees, and were supplied with fish and i.'^ among the most prominent men of his time in Canada, being a member of Lord Elgin's Cabinet, and more than once Premier. Augustus W. Baldwin was Admiral of the Blue at the time of his death, and a perfect specimen of the old British officer. John Baldwin made a fortune iu business, nnd left a large family. Three of his sons took holy orders: the Rev. Edmund Baldwin was connected with St. James's Cathedral, Toronto ; ]\Iaurice Baldwin is now Dean of Montreal ; and Arthur Baldwin is Rector of a vigorous parish in Toronto. It may be said of the original family and its descendants that thoy were of an upright, honorable, clever stock, not slothful in business, and distinguished for their earnest religious character and firm faith. I) "' ^rl il 74 MKMOinS OF JOUN ADAMS DIX. ^ il' L '\ 'K' '1 game by Indiana, wlio still rouincd tlio forest. Mr. Morgan was one of those men who, in principle intensely democratic, are personally as intense aristocrats, lie deemed repnblican- ism the best form of government, bnt for li's house and social relations he luul another code. There is a line which men are compelled to draw who, whatever their political opinions, would maintain their jiersonal dignity and self-respect, and he drew it with rigor and precision. Such was the man who became, in time, the young offieer''s father-in-law, and remained through life his devoted friend. It may have been a year after the accidental interview wliich I have described when Major Dix met Miss Morgan in Washington. Ilcr father, unwilling to leave her behind him again, took her to the capital at the next session of Con- gress. Mrs. Morgan, when calling one day on a lady whose cards were out for a ball, was asked to bring her daughter with her. She declined, on the ground that she was too young to go into society, and added, " She will be just fifteen years old the day of your ball." " That," re])lied her friend, " is the more reason why she should come : make it her h\vi\\- (\^y fi'tey Consent Vv'as given; the young girl went to that ball and, after ti'at, to every one of the season. The circum- stances were propitious to the success of a suit, which Major Dix soon afterward began to press ; and the result was an en- gagement, which, after the lapse of two or three years, was ha])pily terminated by their marriage. Mr. Morgan took a warm interest in the prospects of his future son-in-law. lie encouraged his wish to leave the army and pursue the profession of the law, foreseeing that, in time, he would be called to the higher duties and responsibilities of the statesman. The f;'tes, however, appeared unpropitious, and, in consequence of continued ill- health, he became de- spondent on the subject of the desired change. The pros- pect of a brilliant career seemed likely to fade out altogeth- er ; and this was the more trying, because personal influences had been at work by which the door to civic honors would 1821-1828.] THE WEDDED FAIR SAIL FOR ENGLAND. T5 have been opened the nioment lie should liavc hiid the sword aside. A year before his marriage he had made u]) liis mind that he must remain in the army, and that he eould offer to the woman of his choice notliing better tlian the uncertain- ties and trials M'hich environ the lot of a soldier's Avife. In the year 182(5 a convention was concluded at "Washing- ton between the United States and the Kingdom of Den- mark, and a special messenger was to be sent to Copenhagen, charged with delivering that treaty to our rciiresentative in that country. The Precidcnt instructed Mr. ('lay to offer that service to Major Dix, and to require his departure on his mission with as little delay as pi'acticable. The letter is dated May 10, the copy of instructions May 17. On the 2i)tli of that month the marriaije of John A. Dix and Catharine Morgan took place, at St. John's Chapel, in the parish of Trinity Church, in the city of New York, the Kcv. Ijcujamin T. Ouderdonk, an assistant minister of the parish, officiating. Immediately after the wedding they embarked for England in the packet-ship William T/iomj>i^on, Captain Bowne, and arrived at Liverpool on the 29th of June. A fortnight was pleasantly passed in England, during which they visited Ches- ter and the Yale of Llangollen, Lichfield, Kenilworth, War- wick, and Stratford-on-Avon, Oxford, and London. Thence, on the 15th of July, they set sail for lland)urg, on the way to Cox^enhagen. I have before me a journal of their tour, full of entertaining sketches of persons and jilaces, from which I shall make a few extracts, by way of a S2)ecimen of their ad- ventures. From Ilandiurg they posted to Kiel, crossing what was then the Danish province of Ilolstein, and were not a little em- barrassed by the fact that no one could speak any language which they understood, in consequence of which they were "under the necessity of exercising a system of pantomime whenever they had any want to satisfy." On that painful progress, says the writer in the journal, " we were more than once compelled to gnaw our fingers for half an hour before , •\ ■ ■Bnn Ibioi ' - , um i - 1 R»n nil IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I |M 112.5 IIIIU IIIM 142 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 "^ 6" - ► VQ %. VI ."*' :>^' (P O m 7 /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 4. s ;\ V \ % .V *> * ^ s ^ 4> % A? %^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 872-4503 ^ I> 1 76 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. we could make tliem comprehend that we Avanted something to eat, and as to any details they were altogether hopeless. Whenever a gleam of intelligence shot across their features in the course of the dumb -show we were carrying on, the exclamation always was, ' Butter und hrod, yaw /' and bread and butter was oil that we could get. By the middle of the second day we were almost reduced to desperation for the want of meat, and we looked around in vain for something which would convey the idea of animal food. Not a fowl, a pig, or a sheep was to be seen in the yard ; we even glanced about for a kitten or a puppy, but our researches were in vain, and we were finally compelled to dine on ' huttcr und hrod,'' as we had breakfasted that morning and supped the night before." From Kiel they crossed to Coj)enhagen. Official duties having been performed, some time was spent in visiting places of interest in the vicinity of the city. There is a graphic account of their attempt to effect an entrance into the palace of Fredericsborg : " On the 27th, immediately after breakfast, we disposed our- selves for an inspection of the interior of the palace, and after passing through the gates we looked around for some one to direct us. The first animate object was a boy, of a sort of Flibbertigibbet air and manner, drawing rai)i- water from a barrel, which he was watching with the strictest vigilance in order to put the tap in at the very nick of time — when the liquid should reach the brim of the receiving vessel. We asked him in English where we could find the keeper of the palace, and were probably just as well understood as we should have been if we had addressed hiui in Hebrew or Chaldaic. lie answered in Danish, which was about as intel- ligible to us as any of tlie languages spoken at Babel at the time of the confusion ; but in both tliese operations he kept his eyes riveted steadfastly upon the water-cask. In this hopeless condition of our department of intelligence we con- cluded to wait patiently until the boy's eyes were somewhat 1821-1828.] FROM DENMARK TO SWEDEN, 17 relieved of the urgency of their present occupation. "VVe did not wait long, and after divers attempts to light up his feat- ures by the force of signs with a ray of comprehension, we set off for a building across the court to which he motioned us. At this building we were motioned to another, on the opposite side, where we were again motioned to another. But at this last we found immediately that we were upon the right scent ; for, on repeating to a female at the door the motions we had made to the boy, she pointed to the stairs, up which we ascended without hesitancy. After knocking a long time another female showed herself, in slippers down at the heel, a flannel night-dress wrapped round her, and her hair put up in paj)ers in the best modern taste. She looked so French in every respect that we could not refrain from addressing her in that language ; and, to our unspeakable joy, she rcijlied to us, with one of those half-hackneyed and half-natural smiles which none but a Frenchwoman can manage with effect. Under her direction, attended by the keeper, who lodged in an adjacent apartment, we at last commenced an examina- tion of the palace." From Denmark they went over into Sweden, and spent some days at a watering-place called Ramlosa. Travelling in that country at that time was attended with difficulties now, happily, unknown. They had their own carnage, but were dependent for horses on a crude post - service, the farmers throughout the country being required by law to provide those animals for the use of travellers, together with a wagon and driver for persons who needed them. If the tourist had his own carriage, but no coachman, the farmer drove ; but where there were both carriage and coachman, the farmer who furnished the horses mounted the box with the coach- man, surrendering the reins, and only assisting in whipping the horses. This aid, it would appear, was invaluable. " Sometimes wo had horses which were able-bodied enough, but so invincibly lazy that they required a constant applica- tion of the lash, like machines that stop the instant the impel- Pi . ',i' v^ 1 I' H 1 m : 1 1 1 r , i ■1 H i ' 78 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. ling force is withdrawn; and on tlif j occasions we found an incalculable advantage in having a coachman who could whip one horse while the farmer was whipping the other. Our equipage was not like that of Iludibras, who, by putting one side of his steed in motion, was sure the other would follow : we had, unluckily, two distinct wills to influence, and they had not even the advantage of inanimate bodies in a momen- tum, by which the movement is kept up for a while after the propelling power ceases ; but the instant the lash was removed from the back of either animal he became as motionless as a statue. This perversity in our cattle was a source of no little embarrassment to us for a while ; but by the ingenious device of two whips in constant operation — a contrivance for which we were indebted to the joint deliberations of the Swedish farmer and our Swedish coachman — we managed to keep the backs of both perj)etually exercised, and by this means the regular rate of progression w^as maintained." Here is a pretty description of a scene on the shore of the Sound : " From the height you look down upon the Sound, but two miles distant, and always whitened with the canvas of j)assing ships. Beyond it lies in full view iclie opposite coast of Den- mark, but four miles from the Swedish shore, covered with farm-houses and windmills, and inore strongly marked in the spires and castellated turrets of Elsinore, where every trad- ing vessel to and from the Baltic is compelled to stop and pay tribute. Lower down lies the island of AVen, where Tycho Brahe resided, and held his nightly consultations with the heavens ; and in the opposite direction you catch a glimpse of the little Swedish town of Ilelsingborg, overlooked by a huge quadrangular tower, which is fast mouldering into ruin, upon a neighboring height." Returning to Copenhagen, they proceeded by steamer to Lu- beck, and so back to Hamburg. A brief tour through Holland ended the Continental expedition, and, embarking soon after from an English port, they returned to the United States. 1821-18'28.] DISCOMFORTS OF GAIIBISON LIFE. 79 That autumn Major Dix was ordered to Fortress Monroe. Tlic following winter was spent at that station. His young wife's experience of domestic life in a garrison was equally novel and disagreeable. To some of their trials she thus alludes in a letter home : " Old Point Comfort, Dcccmbci' 21, 1820. . " My dear Father and Mother, — To-morrow will be a week since we arrived, here, and during that time we have not heard from you, and there is no hope of getting a letter to-day, for the Norfolk steamboat has brought us nothing. We are expecting our furniture very anxiously, and tiie moment it comes we shall take possession of our two rooms, without waiting for a carpet. We should build a kitchen, if we considered our- selves established here for any length of time. We have two very hand- some rooms, with marble mantel-pieces and folding-doors; but not a store-room, nor a closet, nor a pantry is to be found on our premises. We are going to have pine cupboards made, and our dinner-table can bo supplied with meat from the mess-room. I have seen nothing here that deserves the name of a vegetable. It is tlie poorest place, I believe, on the whole face of the earth. The worst part of Sweden is a garden com- pared with it. I give you my word there is not an eatable thing to be procured here but oysters and fish. They send to Norfolk, and Wash- ington even, for the commonest articles of food, and have to pay high for them ; and then such servants — all black ; and so careless and im- provident ! The other day I had been asking repeatedly for wood, and was getting almost out of patience, when our maid came and said to me that if I could wait a few moments longer Ilippon woidd saw some. This is always the case in Virginia, they tell me. Foresight'' — [here the let- ter is continued in my father's handwriting] — "I suppose Catharine meant to saj-, is a thing altogether unknown in the domestic economy of Virginia. And as she has been called off to attend to some engage- ment, I have taken upon myself to finish her letter. "Since the first moment of my arrival here I have been incessantly oc- cupied — on drill, on parade, on guard, on court-martial, on inspection, on review ; and busied with a thousand other modes of duty, which scarcely give me time to think. ... I am no more strongly enamored than I was before I came here of my profession, although the duties are not very disagreeable; but everything like a systematic application of the mind to any purpose of improvement is out of the question. One is no sooner in the midst of a reverie on some interesting or important matter, than a fellow comes in to break off the chain of thought with — n i 80 MEMOIRS OF JOnX ADAMS DIX. J Vi|i \ ' Mi J H ll >if i^ ' Captain, the sergeant won't lot »nc have my rations of whiskey ;' or, 'Captain, Private Such-a-one has got tlrunlc and lost his musket.' "Catharine endures her separation from you with much firmness, though she feels the whole extent of tlie loss. AVe l)oth hojie for better times, when we shall all be united. I will write again in a day or two, and in the mean time am ever most affectionately yours, " J. A. Dix. "The New Hampshire delegation have unanimously recommended mo to the President for the appointment I had in view. I received a day or two ago a copy of the paper addressed to him."* A letter from General Brown to Mr. Morgan in the fol- lowing year shows the esteem in which my father was held in the military service of the United States : " Ilcad-quartcrs, Washington, January 15, 1837. "My deau Sir, — Yours of the 13th this moment came to hand; and I have to say, and with much pleasure, that I liavc heard oftru from Captain Dix and your daughter, and always to my satisfoctfrn. Your son is gaining an army character of great value. Mrs. Vinlon had a let- ter from Captain Dix a day or two since ; all well. " Mrs. Brown and Mary will thank me for remembering them, with friendly regard, to you and IMrs. Morgan. " I am yours truly, Jac. Browx. "JOUN J. MOUOAN, Esq." In consequence of continued ill-health, and on a strong rec- ommendation from the post surgeon, Major Dix was relieved from duty at Fortress Monroe early in the summer of 1827 * Tlie paper referred to in the postscript is as follows ; " To tlie President of the United States: "If it bo contemplated to appoint a ChargC d'Affaircs to reside at Stockholm or Naples, the iindersigned beg leave to express their con- fidence in the integrity and talents of Mr. John A. Dix, of New Hamp- shire, and their v.jsh for his appointment, should the public interest justify the same. "Signed, Thomas WiiirPLE, Jr., Jonathan Harvey, Joseph Healley, Iciiabod Bartlett, NEHEMfAn Eastman, Titus Brown." 1821-1828.] EESIGNATION OF CAPTAIN'S COMMISSIOX. 81 and sent to New York. Time passed on, and his dissatisfaction with the duties of his profession, dull and spiritless in time of peace, increased ; until the wish to leave the army revived with added strength. In this desire he was seconded by his wife, while her father, Mr. Morgan, not only encouraged him in his projects but offered assistance, without which it would, perhaps, have been impossible to take the contemplated step. Besides the estate in Madison, Herkimer, and Chenango Counties, Mr. Morgan also owned lands in Otsego County, in the neighborhood of the beautiful village of Coopei*stown. For the care of these he needed an agent. The position was offered to his son-in-law, on condition that he should leave the military service, fix his residence in that region, and com- mence the practice of the law. Nothing could have accorded better with his inclinations, esiiecially as he disliked towns, and had a strong relish for a country life. The following documents give the conclusion to this period of the history : " West Point, July 2t), 1828. " Sin,— I have the honor to resign my commission as Captain of the Third Regiment of Artillery. After sixteen years' service in tlie army, in wliich I have lost my health, I trust it will not be tleemccl too much if I ask that my resignation may be accepted on the 1st of July or August, 1829, and that I be in the mean time permitted to remain on furlough. I could not in less time make my arrangements for engaging iu another profession. I should have gone to Providence on the recruiting service for a few months, but I thought it would but occasion inconvenience to the Government, if I were to go tliere and resign almost as soon as the establishment was formed. This consideration only has induced me to send in my resignation at this time instead of a later day; particularly as the place which I have purchased is now under a lease, so that I can- not get possession of it for several months. I mention all these circum- stances, although I indulge the hope that the consideration of my long service and enfeebled health will alone insure the indulgence I ask — the last it will be in my power to ask of my military superiors. " I am, Sir, very respectfully, " Your most obedient servant, " John A. Dix. "Major-general Macomb " I.— G 'I ffl r f( ii ' }■■' Hi I :f[; 1-!: i i t i 82 MEMOmS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. " Adjutant-generara Office, Washington, August 6, 1823. «' Order No. 41. " Tlie resignation of Captain J. A. Dix, of the Third Regiment of Artil- lery, has been accepted by the President of the United States, to take effect the 31st of December next. " By Order. R. Jones, Adjutant-general." " Adjutant-general's Office, Washington, August 7, 1828. " Special Order No. 80. " Captain Dix, of the Third Artillery, has authority to be absent on furlough until the 31st of December next, when his resignation will take effect, as announced in ' Order' No. 41. "By order of Major-general ^lacomb. "R. Jones, Adjutant-general." And thus my father's connection with the army was sev- ered — not to be resumed till the year 1861, and in the most trying days of the history of the Republic. i III. COOPERSTOWJN". RURAL LIFE.-THE LAW.-PRELUDE TO POLITICAL CAREER. A.n, 18S8-1830. I I' Ij If! 't! Cooperstown. — " Apple Ilill." — Long Winters. — Ilousc-kceping. — Offer of a Foreign Appointment. — Samuel F. B. Morse. — First Effort at Speaking without Notes. — Village Excitements ; Religious Revivals. — Quiet Years Formative of the Future. — Political History of New York. — Review of the History of Parties in the United States. — Federalists. — Administration of John Adams. — Democratic Triumph under Jeffer- son. — The Hartford Convention. — Do Witt Clinton. — The Bucktails. — Convention of 1821; State Constitution Revised. — Colonel Haines. — Major M. M. Noah.. — General Brown's Relations to President Adams and Governor Clinton. — Anti-Masonic Excitement. — Disappearance of William Morgan. — General Jackson's Administration. — Views of John Adams Dix on Anti - Masonry. — Slavery; African Colonization. — Speeches on Negro Emancipation. — Opposition to Aljolitionism. — In 1830 appointed Adjutant-general of the State of New York. — Fare- well to Otsego. 1828-1830.] INSENSIBLE TO NATURE'S CHARMS. 85 III. The place at Cooperstown referred to in the letter of res- ignation was purchased by Mr. Morgan for his son and daugh- ter in the year 1828. They took possession of their new home late in the autumn, and spent the following winter there. The village of Cooperstown, first settled by Judge AVilliam Coop- er, A.D. 1790, and famous as the birthplace of James Fcnimoro Cooper, our immortal novelist, is situated at the southern end of Otsego Lake, a lovely sheet of water, ten miles in length, in which the Susquehanna River takes its rise. My father's residence was known as " Ajiple Hill." It was on an eminence which commands a full view of the lake ; and just below the bank the Susquehanna pursued a winding course beneath the willow-trees. The house was a large, old-fash- ioned structure, without pretension to architectural effect, but homely and spacious ; an avenue of great trees led to it from the village street ; my father's modest law - office was also within the enclosure. lie took delight in the scenery, and particularly in the view of the lake from the veranda. Once, when a guest had arrived late in the evening, he prepared an agreeable surprise. Leading him forth in the morning, with- out a word of introduction, he suddenly showed him the pros- pect, and stood awaiting the exclamations of delight which ought to have followed. But the imperturbable traveller, casting an indifferent glance about, merely observed, " W/if/, I see you have got quite a ;pond here.'''' I have heard my father tell the story and descant on his intense humiliation and disgust. Such persons as these are painful social trials. ■ It is related of a member of the fraternity, who was encoun- tered in Lombardy, on his w^ay South, and asked whether he 86 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. i (1) m !■! 1 I I liad como across tlie Alps, that lie replied, " Well, I gnesa we did come over rislti' ground.''' The winters were terrible for their length, and for the M'eary hiding of the earth under the snow ; not so hard, how- ever, as those in his native New England, where sometimes the ground would crack open with a loud report under the effect of the frost. There was one long, long winter, when, from November until April, they never once saw the ground ; and my mother L'ticU down and kissed the first bright blade of grass in the spring.* 1 have old letters, good store, which passed between Apple Hill and No. !■! Bond Street, the country and the town homos. They tell of the changes of the seasons, the hard winters, the hopeful spring-tides, and the mellow autumn days. In the sunnucr all were together. My father threw himself with his characteristic ardor into the pursuits of rural life, declining no responsibility of a householder. Writing to his wife, in New York, on the 30th of April, 1820, he says : "It will be three weeks since we parted, and I verily be- lieve it is the longest period of bachelorhood I have known these three years. At all events it has beci' .. most dreadfully solitary and gloomy one. Wc are very bus}- ; but, unluckily, our minds are not as attentive as our hands to the matters in operation. Mine is constantly stealing over the Vision,f thence to the Hudson ; and down its waters, you know, the transition is an easy one to the city and Bond Street. To- * Referring to those New England winters, my father told n.c how, when a little fellow, he came back to his mother, who had seen him off to school, and solemnly told her that there was a crack iu the ground too wide for him to cross. He was an imaginative child — one of those whose fancy evolves wonders from its laboratory. He would gravely tell of things which could not have taken place— of having beheld creatures flying which cannot fly, and of encounters with unknown and terrific beasts. It was the play of the imagination ; for otherwise the lad was the soul of truth and honor, as the man was to the very end. t The name of a mountain iu the vicinity. 1828-1830.] IIVIIAL FACTS AND INCIDENTS. 87 morrow is tlio Ist of May, and do ask your father and mother if tliey will consider mo unconscionable in thinking of com- ing for you in about ten days. You know we shall bo re- united hero soon, and I am such a poor devil without you that they nmst be magnanimous and give you up. "We are exceedingly engaged. I have taken down and put up thirty-two windows. The house is thoroughly cleaned. Yesterday and to-day I have been laboring at making fence ; and the lot is assuming an entirely different appearance. I am very tired ; it is a long time since I liavo labored in the fields. I recollect riding liorse to plough when I was a small boy ; but I got thrown in cutting some caper with the horse, and was turned over to the school-master as a bad subject. To-morrow 1 hope to commence the garden arrangements. The chickens have come; and although there are only six hens they gave us five eggs before they had been three hours witli us. The rooster, in violation of all good - manners, deserted the ladies in a few hours after his arrival, and went prowling about the neighboring barn-yards ; but in an hour afterward he returned with as thorough a trouncing as a rooster could wish to have. lie is all blood now, and I venture to predict that he will not quit his own premises again for a twelvemonth." That these efforts to please the maitresse de malson were successful mr.y be inferred from a letter written on her return from New York : "Coopcrstown, May 20, 1820. " My dear Fatiieu and Mothek, — We arrived here safely yesterilay, all well, but very much fatigued. The roads were -. try bad, and, notwith- standing careful driving and excellent springs, my bones ache yet most dreadfully. Margaret says she is enchanted with our situation and all the comforts of our establishment. You have no idea how beautiful wc look; and then we have music incessantly — during the day the birds and frogs sing in chorus, and in the evening and at night the whippoor- "will regales us with his melancholy note. There have been a great many improvemento made during my absence, and even now it is a perfect lit- tle paradise. I wish, my dear father and mother, you could take a peep at it, and if you did not immediately exclaim, ' How dreadful it would be if thoy were obliged to go to France!' I should think you had more 88 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. (i !■. \ taste for diplonacy than for the charms of nature. , . . The mail closes in a few moments, and Mr. Dix wishes to say something. God bless you, my dear fV.ther and mother ; and in the hope that it may not be very long before we meet again, I am your affectionate child, " C. M. Dix. "Mr. Dix has just shot a jioor wliippoorwill, and he will send it to Mr. Baldwin, in order that he may satisfy himself upon the old disputed question." The letter runs on, but in my father's handwriting : " My dear IMoTiiEn, — We were all so tired yesterday that we could not make the effort to Avrite. . . . While Catharine was finishing the above I heard the note of a whippoorwill, and although it went more against my conscience than anything I ever committed, I ehot him wliile his note was unfinished in his throat, in order to satisfy tlie long-disputed question of his identity with the night-hawk. 'Tis a horrid taurder, and it is the only (I may say, too, it will be the last) bird shot on Apple Hill while this domain has been under my management. " Catharine thinks it is far better, even for liealth, to be here than to be sitting eight or ten hours a day in a hot city, even tliough it were Paris, copying the Minister's despatches. However, if the appointment had come, and not an inquiry, I should have accepted it." The explanation of the closing paragraph is given in a let- ter addressed to Mr. Morgan by Mr. Van Buren, who was at that time Secretary of State under General Jackson. I copy it as it lies before me : " Private. " My deau Sir, — No ChargCs will be sent out before the meeting of Congress, and then the list of applicants is immense. Would IMajor Dix like to go to France as Secretary of Legation, with a most agreeable man as Minister, and start by the first of ^^j" J 1 I do not know that I can obtain his appointment, as there are many applicants, etc., etc. Let me know at the earliest moment. Remember me kindly to Mrs. M., and be- lieve me to be, in great haste, Yours very sincerely, " M. Van Buren. " Mb. Morgan." " Washington, May 11, 1829. This offer, on being communicated to my father, was at once declined. His reasons, though not stated to Mr. Van 1828-1830.] COOPERSTOWN AND FENIMOEE COOPER. 80 Buren, -were, tliat it came in tlie fomi of a friendly inquiry merely ; that there was no certainty of his being appointed, in case his assent had been given ; and that it would have made his position a very embarrassing one, if the President, on be- ing advised with, should not have deemed it proper to make the appointment. If the inquiry had been put in the shape of a direct oifer it would have been accepted, as the impor- tance of the mission gave the station an extraordinary value. The society of Cooperstown, thougli small, was agreeable. Mr. James Fenimore Cooper and his family were in Europe, l)ut others of the name remained, who, with the Bowei-s, Phinneys, Pomeroys, and Metcalfes, formed a delightful cir- cle. At the north end of the lake was " Ifyde," the country- seat of Mr. Hyde Clark, who had married the widow of Mr. Richard Cooper. My father's house was generally full of guests ; among them was one whose fame has since that day become world - wide, Samuel F. B. Morse. A painter of no small reputation, and, I think. President of the National Academy of Design, yet scantly furnished with ducats, as is the wont M'itli devotees of the graphic arts, he came to Coop- erstown with a mind to paint a portrait or two, and was in- vited to Apple Hill. My mother seems to have appreciated the solemnity of the situation. She writes : " I get along admirably with my visitors, or rather visitor, Mr. Morse, of whom I felt a little afraid, considering that I had seen him only twice before, besides his liaving been to Europe, and being a member of the tmi, as well as literary and philosophical societies. He is a very agreeable man, and the admiration of all the young ladies here, notwithstanding he is a widower with three children, and hero and there a gray hair. He takes admirable portraits : the price is twenty- live dollars." A cousin of my mother's, Margaret Willett (the same whom she mentions in her letter of May 20), daughter of the old Colonel Marinus Willett, and then a young and beautiful girl, was with them at Apple 11 ill. To her charms the portrait- 90 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. 'ir i .. / painter was so far sensible that lie put her and my mother into a landscape which he painted for Mr. Dewitt Bloodgood, of Albany. Many years afterward this picture came into my father's possession, and thenceforth formed one of the chief treasures of his little gallery. The scene is taken from Apple Hill ; the lake and its enclosing hills are in the distance ; state- ly pine-trees stand at the side, and in the foreground are two young ladies grouped near the stump of some old monarch of the " forest primeval," over which relic they have carelessly thrown their shawls. In Cooperstown my father made his first attempt at public speaking. The Eev. Mr. Tiffany, pastor of the Ei^iscopal Church, invited him to address the Sunday-school. The occa- sion must have been deemed important, for he made elabo- rate prej^aration ; and having written out what he intended to say, and, as he supposed, connnitted it perfectly to memory, set forth, rashly leaving the manuscript at home. " I remem- ber," writes one who was present, " just how he looked, as he stood a short distance from the front pews. lie went on very smoothly for some time ; but then, forgetting what came next, and becoming confused, and not being especially familiar with the subject, he had to make his way out of it as best he could. I was so confused myself that I never could remember how he did it. When we reached home the first thing he asked was how I felt when ho broke down. lie often spoke of it in after-years, with great anmsement over his ill-success on that first appearance as a public speaker." Some of our most fluent orators can, no doubt, recall simi- lar incidents in their own experience. Such failures may, perhaps, be almost necessary to insure a final success. It was so with my father, who in after-life spoke witli perfect self-possession, used nu notes, and appeared completely inde- pendent of external helps in his oratory. Half-way up the lake stood a large building, known as the Fish House, to which the people resorted in excursions and picnics. A boat, having as its motive-power a pair of super- 1828-1830.] AX INSIGHT OF VILLAGE LIFE. 91 animated horses, plied to and fro, carrying many a merry par- ty, duly supplied with the implements of the angler's craft. Feasts and dances followed on their landing. In the autumn, when the salmon-trout came out of the lake, it was a pretty sight to see the river below us filled with boats, each having a blazing pine-knot in the bow, by the light of which men speared the fish as they rose toward the flame. I have before me an anmsing letter, written by my mother to a young girl who had been near them at boarding-school; it gives a pleasant insight into their village life : "My deak C, — I received your last letter the other evening, just as I was preparing to pour out tea tor u party of old married ladies: sociable visits are all the rage nowadays, and I have been going the rounds of the village in this mode of entertainment. There has not been a party since you left here, so you have nothing to regret on that score. You have heard, no doubt, of the 'awakening' in our Presbyterian Church, and would be amazed to see the alterations occasioned by it in some of your friends. A smile has not visited the countenances of Rachel or IMary for many a long day, and they both look as i^ale and emaci- ated as if they were 'without hope,' instead of having experienced it. Maria , Helen , and the two 's, are also among the ^ clianged.'' Mr. Tiffany has profited by the example of his neighbor church, and made very great exertions toward the advancement of his own. lie has service in the church every "Wednesday evening, besides three classes for religious instruction, which he attends to weekly ; the married ladies, the young ladies, and about eighteen gentlemen, young and old; so that I think even you would not have Ijccn in very great danger of total ruin this winter. There is a prayer-meeting every evening at Mr. 's, and often before sunrise young and old are seen Avending their way toward the house of prayer. Mr. and 3Irs. and ]\Iiss , all members of the meeting, have left it, and become, I liopc, good E[)iscopalians. Mrs. and T\Irs. do not visit, and scarcely speak when they meet ; mutual intolerance seems to be the cause of the trouble between them. Of your beaus I know nothing, excepting that they are alive and well; Mr. is still in Mr. 's office; and every Sunday I hear the notes of Mr. "s flute mingling Avith the choir. Old Mr. iieejjs abroad now and then, and has found his Avay to Apple Hill just once since you lefl us. Tlie children are well, and unite Avith me in Ioa'C to you, your mother, and sisters." !| 1 1 1 92 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. { Quiet and commonplace as was my father's life during the three years spent in the pretty village by the lake, it has a peculiar interest as the preparation for a career among the most brilliant recorded in the history of our country — the prelude to honor, influence, and their attendant cares ; thence was he to go forth, led by God's providence, to fill in turn al- most every position of trust which it was in the power of his fellow-citizens to bestow. He who was destined to become Adjutant-general of the State, Secretary of State and Super- intendent of Public InstiTiction, member of the State Legisla- ture, Senator of the United States, Assistant Treasurer and Postmastu' of the city of New York, Minister Plenipotentiary' to a foreign «ourt, member of the Cabinet at the most critical epoch in our national history. Major-general in the United States service, and Governor of the State of Kew York, com- pleted his preparation for the half century of responsibility and toil in the tranquillity and comparative obscurity of a rural life. To that life he was always devoted ; more and more fondly did his heart turn to it as circumstances forced him farther away. But a sense of his fitness for public life was growing in certain quarters where able men were needed ; and it was not possible that such a one as he, trained in the school of the army, well read in the law, already a finished scholar, master of three or four languages besides his own, highly connected, accomplished in many arts, and cultivated by foreign travel, could be hidden away. There were those, in short, who knew what he was, and wanted the help which he was fitted to give./ It cannot, I think, be doubted that he must have displayed at that time the qualities for which he was noted in after- life — the sagacity and good judgment, the activity and energy, the tireless industry and the versatile genius, which guarantee success. His reputation, indeed, was already made ; nothing was wanting but the opportune moment to call him to higher duties and a wider sphere. That moment soon arrived ; and, with itj another change in the varied history. Beginning life I I 1828-1830.] POLITICS IN THEIR PIUSTINE DAT. 93 ^ as a soldier, lie had, after fourteen years, resigned his commis- sion and commenced the practice of the law. Scarcely four years elapsed before he put off the robe of the jurist and en- tered on the higher duties of the politician and the statesman. They stood high in those days ; it may not be so now. Then it was an advance to go from the Bar to public life ; when office sought men, not men the office ; when to be a scholar and a gentleman, to be conspicuous for good-breeding, literary attainments, and high social position was neither a disadvan- tage nor likely to impair the prospect of success ; ere yet the pathway to distinction had become a gauntlet-race between Jines of vulgar and selfish inferiors, whom he must flatter and propitiate who would secure their support. And here, perhaps, as well as anywhere, I may add this — in which they who knew him best will bear me out — that all his life through he was what he was at the outset — the same hon- est, sterling character, ever true to his convictions, and con- sistent when tried hy standards that do not change ; and especially that he was a man who detested the lower arts of the politician. Using that word in the sense which it now bears, it would be incorrect to speak of w\y father as a politi- cian ; he should rather be called a man of state. lie was not of those who manoenvre to gain a public position. One after another offices came to him ; not through his bidding for them ; often against his will ; simply because men needed the help which they knew him able to give. 1 wish to emphasize the fact that in my father there was no resemblance to the politician of our day ; and the proof is, that he was never popular in political rings, but rather detested by the men who compose them. It is easy to account for a dislike which they did not affect to conceal. They could not depend on him to farther their selfish aims, nor count on him for personal favors in return for partisan support; he was above their plane, and they lost no opportunity to do him a mischief when they could. It would not be true to say of him that he disliked office, position, and power. A man naturally [» rr;' 94 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS BIX. '(' -I ii likes to do wliat he knows he can do well, and he thoroughly understood the science of governing. But this he did un- selfishly, without personal ambition, on high principle, with- out dread of criticism, for the welfare of the Commonwealth, in the fear of Almighty God. Therefore his part was that of the statesman, and therefore was he disliked and mistrusted by the common politicians, who gave him their support only when they could not help it, or when they hoped to profit indirectly by an influence which they could not bend to do them a favor. I hope to justify this estimate of my father's character as I proceed. The time has come to begin the story of his political life. This I shall attempt to relate with such aid as I could obtain from books, letters, and conference with men familiar with the transactions of former days. But, since this memoir was not intended for the eye of persons deeply versed in American politics, while yet some knowledge of them is indispensable as we proceed, I venture to begin by jffering the reader what I have gathered with my own hand in that rich yet tangled field, while seeking to comprehend the po- sition and the course of one who ranks among the most con- spicuous figures in the scene. The author of the work entitled " The History of Political Parties in the State of New York, from the Ratification of the Federal Constitution to December, 1840," makes the fol- lowing somewhat discouraging observations : "It has often been remarked by citizens and politicians of our sister States that the action of political parties in the State of Xew York was to them unaccountable and myste- rious." And he adds : " Hundreds of strangers have said to me that the politics of New York were to tliem a perfect enigma."* If persons familiar with the political history of our country and public affairs arc thus perplexed, how much more difficult ♦ Vol. i., p. 1G8. 1828-1830.] ^'THE TIltGINIA PLAN" ADOPTED. 95 must it be for one not vei*sed in those subjects to find his way through the maze! My object is, not to discourse at length on national or State politics, but only to trace the course held by one man across that field ; to tell why he chose the path M-hich he pursued, and what he accomplished as he trod it. For this end, however, it seems necessary to take a general view of the subject, for the benefit of readers who, like myself, desire to know prominent facts, and are content to disregard questions of minor importance. Such a moderate knowledge of American history as every cultivated and intelligent citizen ought to possess is suflicient to enable the reader to follow me, while I remind him of the early conliicts of the States, just freed from the leading-strings of the transatlantic government. AVhen, in the year 17S3, the Independence of the Colonies was acknowledged by Great Britain, the future became a subject of anxious consideration. It was evident that the " Articles of Confederation," adopted in 1777, were not sufticicnt to hold the States together, or to provide against external dangers ; a movement for a more perfect union was inevitable. But at once several and diverse tendencies appeared : one toward a strong, consolidated, quasi- monarchical system, with a President and Senate elected for life ; another, toward the establishment of a series of inde- pendent democratic governments, confederated for the com- mon defence, but separate and autonomous. In addition to these two there was a third idea — a compromise between the extremes, known as " the Virginia Plan " — which in its main features was ultimately adopted. In the State of New York there was strong opposition to the formation of the National Union. The " State Sover- eignty " idea was ably represented there, and party lines were first drawn on that question. Alexander Hamilton, a genius of the highest order, stood at the head of the Federalists ; George Clinton, the popular Governor of the State, led the opposition. The United States Constitution was adopted in 1788, under the protest of the New York delegates, Hamilton / i;i ! '/! ! 96 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. alone excepted : of tlic nine States wliose assent constituted its ratification New York was not one. Wlien the fact be- came known in New York tlie question was raised, whether to enter the Union or to stand apart, independent and untram- melled. The Antifederalists gave way reluctantly, and un- der protest, and thus, with hesitation and difficulty. New York came into the Union. It was a triumph for the Federalists ; but it left them face to face with a discontented and able opposition. Upon the refusal of General Washington to serve a third term as President, John Adams, a Federalist, was elected his successor. At that time John Jay was Governor of New York. The National and State Governments were both Fed- eralist, and in full accord. But, as often happens, the beaten party was really the stronger of the two, and it took but a lit- tle while to demonstrate the fact. The spirit of democracy, or republicanism (for the opposition party claimed for itself both those names), was in the air ; and a course had begun which no human power could have prevented from running to its logical end. Looking back to those days, one sees that the Federalists were doomed. They contributed, no doubt, also, by more than one blunder, to their fall ; or it may be that, like the House of Bourbon, the}'' eould not see and would not learn, and were too honorable to change their convictions. The constitu- tion of the State Government was anything but democratic. There was a body known as the " Council of Revision," which, acting wuth the governor, had an absolute veto on the acts of the Legislature. There was a S3'stem by which the governor, with a " Council of Appointment," hud the entire political patronage of the State, and disposed of every office. The right of suffrage was much restricted. When the Legislature assembled the custom was that the governor should appear and make them a speech, to which they returned a formal re- ply. Many other customs, which had obtained under the ante-Revolutionary domination, were kept up. Imagine how 1828-1830.] THE ANTIFEDERALISTS PREVAIL. 97 the spirit of republicanism fretted and chafed ! The Federal- ists, in power, used their opportunity to maintain their posi- tion. To do this they were forced to employ an unpopular machinery, and nuide it, thereby, still more unpopular ; while their adversaries, partly from a firm belief in democracy, and partly from the sheer necessity of gaining power, denounced the existing system, and demanded reform. The well-known sympathy of the Federalists with England, and their detesta- tion of the French Revclution, added to the prejudices which were daily growing against them. The year which followed the election of the elder Adams was one of furious political excitement. The friends of his administration were denounced as in treasonable correspond- ence with Great Britain, and intending, by a series of gradual changes, to uproot republicanism and establish a limited mon- archy. Doubtless these charges were unfounded ; but it is as certain that the Federal jwrty did not believe in the people, nor think it possible that a pure, representative, popular gov- ernment could succeed. "VVe do not doubt the purity of the motives of the Federalists of 1798; but as little can we doubt the sincerity of the Eepublicans in supposing that a gradual subversion of the government Avas in progress by those in power. Such an impression gave to the opposition a tremen- dous clan. Accordingly, in the year 1800 the Democratic or Republi- can party triumphed. Thomas Jefferson was elected Presi- dent of the United States; George Clinton, Hamilton's life- long adversary, was still Governor of New York ; and all over the Union the Antifedcralists were victorious. If anything were needed to complete the ruin of the Fed- eralists it was the attitude assumed by many of tliem during the war of 1812-15. That conflict was the expression of au intense hostility to Great Britain, and a sense of insults, in- juries, and wrongs which stung the American people to the quick, and led them, though comparatively weak, to strike ba'ik blow for blow. But the Federalists, who, notwithstand- I.— 7 xi'h 98 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. ing their discomfiture, still continued to act as a party, o\y- posed the war. Nay, so disastrous were some of the features of the conflict, that Federalism revived, notably in New Eng- land and New Jcrsoy, and distinguished itself by at least ono remarkable performauco. While the State of New York, under Governor Daniel D. Tompkins, stood by the general government, and voted men and supplies for the war, unterri- lied even by the capture and burning of Washington in Au- gust, 1814, there were signs in the New England States of a design to secede from the Union, set up a separate govern- ment, and make peace with Great Britain. Such tendencies appear to have sought expression in the notorious " Hartford Convention," which met in December, 1814, and of which the history forms an important episode in our national annals. But the Peace of Ghent, in 1815, brought these schemes to an end, strengthened the government, and prostrated the Federalists, who never, as a party, returned to power. They continued, by their old name, as an element in politics; but the arm was fallen from the shoulder blade and broken at the bone. My father and grandfather were both in the army during those trying years, and devoted heart and soul to the Ameri- can cause. It was then that my father formed the opinion of the Federalists which he always held, and of which he has left a record, from which I shall make, at this point, some extracts. It is not strange that he should have felt disgust for those who opposed the war ; such was the natural sentiment of the ill- clad, half-starved, suffering soldiers toward those at home who could not conceal their sympathy with the enemies of the United States Government. His views of the Hartford Con- vention, and of the principles and history of the Federalists, come in here in their proper place. They are contained in an article published in the Albany Daily Argus, and headed, "J/?'. Justice Story and the Hartford Convention. — The Fed- eral Party, and the Importance of our National UnionP Of the Hartford Convention he says : \\ 1828-1830.] TIIE AIMS OF THE FEDERALISTS. 99 "Wc believe tlicre is nothing better settled in the public mind than the conviction that the Hartford Convention, in its various relations of time and purpose, was inimical in the highest degree to our national tranquillity and honor. . . . We consider it as the most prominent case of infidelity to the interests of the country that has yet arisen under our free institutions; wo conceive it to have been infinitely more mischiev- ous in its tendences than the two petty insurrections whicli occurred in the early stages of the government, because it was sanctioned by some of the first names iu New England ; and we should regard any diminu- tion of the opprobrium which has fallen upon it as the result of indiffer- ence to our social and political blessings." lie then proceeds to treat of tlie opponents of the war of 1812, and of tlie liistory and aims of tlio Federalists, as fol- lows : *' There are many individuals now living, and bearing about them in scars and physical infirmities honorable testimony of their dangers and exposure in the country's service, who will not readily forget the sneers and execrations with which they were followed in leading through Massachusetts their little bands of combatants to the tiieatre of hostili- ties. They cannot readily forget the attempts which were made to si- lence the drum, to dissuade the citizens from enlisting, and from provid- ing those indispensable supplies of money and subsistence which were required for the support of the public forces. There are many others who witnessed the constant opposition of the Massachusetts delegation on the floor of Congress to all bills for levying new forces, and even for supplying with food and munitions those which were already levied and contending in the field of battle against the enemies of the Republic. These are things not to be forgotten, and we believe we are not unchar- itable in saying that they arc not easily to be forgiven. Yet we are told that the Federal party failed, not through treaciicry — ' for truer spirits the world could not boast'— but through despondence. Despondence may produce inactivity and an abandonment of spirit ; but we apprehend that it is a more vehement impulse tlmt excites to open opposition, and so obscures the sentiment of patriotism as to lead its subjects to seek success at the expense of their country's reputation. In Great Britain political opposition has always restricted itself to such a course of meas- ures as would consist with the duty which every citizen or subject owes to the community or state of which he is a member: it has never per- verted or obliterated the sentiment of country, or so depraved the heart and the reason as to make the disgrace more acceiitable than the glory i 1 J,. ^ 100 MEMOIRS OF JOUS ADAMS DIX. of tlic public arms. Wo take a position of tlio truth of whicli wc uro well assured wlien wo say that the Fetleral party, iu Miisaachusctts and Connecticut cBpccially, rejoiced in tlio failure of our military cnturprises and in the triumph of the British forces over ours. "The writer of this article will never forget that ho himself was nt a private dinner-table in IJoston, in 1813, when the news of General Hull's surrender was received, and that a gentleman bearing one of the most respectable names in that city gave as a toast — 'A similar fate to all our generals!' lie was then a youth; but he still retains a strong sense of the disgust which this impiety excited upon his own unformed senti- ments, although it was received with ajiplausc by twelve or fifteen per- sons of strong minds and refined education. " We are disposed to overlook altogether the opposition of the Federal party to the government during the long series of embarrassments which preceded the war. The country was at peace, or at least was involved in no declared hostilities with foreign powers; and the measures of the Federal party, however indispensable in particular cases, were fairly adopted for the purpose of destroying the influence of their opi)onent8. A strong distinction is to be taken between measures agreeing in all particulars, excepting the single one of belonging to a state of peace or a state of war. A declaration of hostilities is the common signal at Avliich all parties arc bound to unite in rallying around the standard of the country. Upon this the Federal party throughout the country divided in 1812; and it is this division that will constitute the criterion of tlieir admission to the public confidence. Those who abandoned the party at that epoch, and supported the government in its trials, cannot be distinguished from the most meritorious classes of citizens. Those who continued to oppose the principle of the war, but still contributed their best exertions to bring it to an honorable termination by sharing its perils, contributing to its resources, or by voting supplies of men and money in Congress, are entitled to the same honorable distinction. But we avow our total want of charity for those who contributed all in their power to embarrass the government, to obstruct the successful prosecu- tion of hostilities, and who were willing to purchase the downfall of the prevailing party at the price of the public dishonor. That there were many such, we know ; that they composed a majority of the New Eng- land Federalists, we fear, if we do not believe. We deny to these all claim to public confidence, because we consider their aberrations as the result, not of infirmity of judgment, but of depravity of principle, which time has no power to change. The oblivion which the author of the article under review implores is their only refuge ; but it is not to be won by palliating their ofl'cnces and asserting their purity ; the outraged )\ 1828-1830.] TRESCUAyi ASIMADVERSIOX. 101 sensibility of tlio public must be conciliated by tlieir silence, by a studi- ous concealment of their guilt; by trusting to its mercy, and not by appealing to its justice. " We are told, also, tliat the debt of gratitude to the Federal party can never bo extinguished. To our oars, we confess, these are unaccustomed sounds, and wo do not feel that the reason or the heart respoi-ln to the sentiment. We know that many illustrious individuals of that party contributed to the formation of the Constitution, and the organization of the government under it, and that scmic of their early measures were well chosen for the prosperity of the country. But we know, also, that as many distinguished members of the Republican party bore tlieir share in those early operations of government* that the career of the Federal party was marked at its fust stages by a perversion of the fundamental doctrines of our Republican system, and that it went on with headlong precipitation to an extremity which wrought its own downfall by arous- ing the ])opular indignation. We cannot but feel also that such is the irresistible tendency of the principles upon which that party proceeded, and that, in the vicious examples which they have interwoven with our public history, they have done an injury to the cause of liberal institu- tions, which could have found no adequate redress but in the accom- panying retribution which fell ui)on them in the fulness of their pros- perity and strength. "We appeal to the writer of the article under review to say whether Washington or Hamilton, or any other illustrious name, which he claims as belonging to the Federal party at the organization of the govern- ment, would have been found in its ranks in 1812 ? Wc have in strict- ness nothing to do with the party in its infancy. Most parties arc virt- uous and disinterested in the season at which they take their rise. But they are to be judged by their results — by the evils or benefits wiiich are the natural consequences of their principles. It was impossible that the principles of the Federal party should produce much else than evil, for they were in direct hostility to the fundamental principles of the system to which they arc applied. As the reviewer admits, the Federal party 'wanted a just confidence in our free institutions, and in the moral ability of the people to uphold them ;' whereas our whole political sys- tem proceeds upon the assumption that the people are competent to self- government. It was a necessary consequence of this fundamental error that measures should be adopted, even in the most virtuous days of the party, in counteraction of the first principles of the Republic ; that it should be considered necessary to infuse a more energet'o iction into tlie machine of government, and to diminish the control of the people over it, by usurping the exercise of powers which they had reserved to 1\ 102 MEMOIES OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. themselves. No obligation, whicli any member or members of the Fed- eral party have conferred ou the country, can counteract the evils of these precedents ; and how stands the account, when we follow out their principles to the consequences in which they terminated — to a long and vindictive struggle against the supremacy of the people, to a factious opposition wlien the necessities of the country demanded their aid and sympatliy, and to a treacherous indifference to the public interests when all was iinally jjut at hazard by an appeal to arms ? This is a fearful balance, which we are sure no friendly hand will attempt to strike ! " Wc repeat, the only refuge for the Federal party is in oblivion ; and he who seeks to palliate its errors inflicts upon it the greatest of inju- ries ; he excites recollections which might not have been disturbed, and calls forth expositions alike ungrateful to the feelings of tlieir authors, and reproachful to the character of those whose conduct and actions furnish the occasion for them." !: II nr The Federalists received tlieir death-blow, as a political or- ganization, in the year 1815. The instability of temporal af- faire, however, generally forbids a long enjoyment of prosper- ity. Scarcely were Republicans victorious, when they began to disintegrate. Murmurs we^e heard, from time to time, against the " Virginia Dynasty," and lines were drawn be- tween North and Soutlv There were symptoms of trouble long before that day. The Presidents of the United States had, for twenty-four years out of twenty-eight, been taken from Virginia : George Washington for his two terms, Thomas JeSerson for as many more ; Madison for eight more years. Adams, of Massachusetts, had served but one term. The Madison administration now nominated another Virgin- ian, James Monroe, for the succession. The movement dis- pleased many at the North ; and dissensions and divisions fol- lowed which ultimately had the effect of breaking up the Re- publicans. Mr. Monroe's election did not heal the breach, but merely postponed the inevitable catastrophe : Governor Tomp- kins went into office with him as Vice-President. At this time there rose to power one of the most remarka- ble men that New York ever produced. De Witt Clinton, nephew of the first Governor of this State, was for many 1 V \ 1828-1830.] THE CLIQUE KNOWN AS *'BUCETAILS." 103 years the centre about which the political sphere revolved : it may be said that the people of New York were gathered into two hostile camps, as Clintonians and Anti-Clintonians. In 1818 a permanent separation took place between the support- ers and opposers of his administration, though both sides be- longed to one and the same political school. The opposition to Governor Clinton was headed by Martin Van Buren, the most skilful politician of his day ; he was the life and soul of an organization which ultimately became dominant in the State. In the city of New York, and out of Tammany Hall, sprung up a clique of able and restless men known as the "Bucktails." Hostile to Clinton, they constituted, as has been said, " an organized opposition to the State administra- tion, and political opponents to the Democratic party in the State represented by the governor as its chief." In the year 1821 a great revohition occurred in the State of New York, though without tlie effusion of blood or the help of bayonets. At a convention held at Albany the con- stitution of the State was revised, or rather made over, so that old things passed away, and changes which would have been considered impossible a quarter of a century before were effected. It was a complete triumph for the Antifederalist, Anti-Clintonian Democracy; from that date the Clintonian party, as such, ceased to exist. To enumerate the changes is unnecessary; they were in the line of Republican progress, and among those things which logically follow on the appli- cation of certain principles. The last vestiges of the ancient regime passed away, and the government became popular in spirit as well as in name. On the 1st day of January, 1823, Governor Joseph C. Yates was inaugurated at Albany. It may be said that the State of New York was at that time in profound political peace. But the clearest weather is often a breeder of the heaviest storm, and in the following year that unity was shivered all to pieces. In the United States the Presidential question do- ^ X 104 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. ranges everything else ; the battle for the chief magistracy, which, unhappily for us, occurs once in every four years, is the measure of the progress of events and the state of parties. To the question who should succeed Mr. Monroe discordant replies were given ; and no less than five Richmonds took the field, in the persons of Calhoun, Clay, Jackson, Adams, and Crawford. Of these Mr. Calhoun, the Secretary of War, was the favorite of the younger army men. My father, then sta- tioned at Washington, and aide to the general of the army, was, as I have previously observed, one of his ardent support- ers. Mr. Van Buren, o»i the other hand, a Senator of the Unit- ed States, and still actively interested in New York politics, took the side of William II. Crawford. The Crawford move- ment was so distasteful to many in the State of New York, that a party of considerable strength, known as the People's Party, was formed, rather to oppose him than to support any particular candidate. The opposition was successful, and resulted in the election of John Quincy ^Adams, of Massa- chusetts. In tl it celebrated campaign my father took an active part. Among the means employed to defeat Mr. Crawford was the establishment of a newspaper in this city, called the JVew York Patriot. Its editor. Colonel Charles G. Ilaincs, was a native of New Hampshire, a man of ability, and an intelli- gent, zealous politician. The more immediate object of the attacks of the Patriot was Major Mordecai M. Noah, the edi- tor of a rival journal. My father, a warm friend and con- stant correspondent of Colonel Ilaines, wrote for the Pa- triot, advocating the cause of Mr. Calhoun, and taking special and particular delight in vivisecting Major Noah. The inauguration of Mr. Adams in 1825 was followed in a few months by the return of Do Witt Clinton to power in the State of New York. The manner of this re-appearance was intensely dramatic ; it constituted the sensation of the day. The Crawford party, then in the ascendant in the Legisla- ture, intending to place their adversaries in a dilemma, rashly 1828-1830.] A RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE. 105 attacked Mr. Clinton, and turned him out of a minor office which he had held for many years. The result was to make him the most popular man in the State. Aroused at an un- called-for and wanton affront like this, men started up on all sides, called meetings, lighted bonfires, launched anathemas at the political blunderers at Albany, and vowed that Mr. Clin- ton's wrongs should be avenged. It is certain that Mr. Van Burcn, always shrewd and sagacious, had nothing to do with this business, the result of which was ruinous to the man whom he supported. A coalition took place between the People's Party and the friends of Mr. Clinton ; and in the autumn of 1825 he was again elected Governor of the State of New York. One of his earliest acts was to call Colonel Ilaiucs to Albany and make him his Adjutant-general. In connection with this period in the history of our State politics I present the reader with the following letter, which shows the head of the army in the light of Mentor to his im- petuous young friend, and contains a just tribute to Mr. Clin- ton. It is dated at head-quarters, June 22, 1825, midway be- tween the inauguration of the President and the election in New York. After some remarks of little interest here the general continues : " You must be aware that, as General-in-cliief, it is very clcsirablc that I should be on terms of frienilsliip with the President; and as he has made me understand liow dtjsirous he was and is for my good-will, we can but march on together in good-fellowship. I say to you that Mr. Adams has my regard, and I wish him so fortunate as to be re-elected without opposition. I must not be suspected of any other sentiment. "My feelings in relation to Mr. Clinton are of a dilferent cliuractcr. He is a man very much after my own heart. Such men as Clinton arc always ready to put all to hazard in a great cause. They tlo not stop to calculate when they should act. De Witt Clinton has carried his coun- try forward a quarter of a century at least, by the undoubting movement lie made in commencing the New York canals. I mention tliis to show my estimate of his mind. Had he been Governor of New York in 1812 he would have taken possession of Canada very far down the St. Law- rence as a duty and as a business of course about which not much ift I ' ■■ 1 • 1 ■1 ' f, ? Ii'ii.'i ■ n H ' fi 1 ^ \ 106 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. speaking or writing would have been called forth. It would have turned upon the efficiency of a single mind acting upon a great body like New York, and the utter insignificance of Canada to Quebec at the opening of the war. Mr. Clinton is no ordinary man, and though his fame is as lasting as the waters of the great lakes, he will be politically pros- trated again, if he and his distinguished friends are found in the ranks against Mr. Adams. Mr. Clinton and his friends must not be found in opposition to the administration of Adams, if they intend to hold the government of New York. If you cannot bring yourself to entertain kind feelings toward Mr. Adams, you can, I hojie, desire the political prosperity of Mr. Clinton. If so, give him your most zealous, your most devoted support as Governor of New York, and never allow him to be represented as in opposition to the National Government. Re-elect him by some twenty thousand majority, and then, yes, then keep quiet, at least modest, on the Presidential question. I am out of all patience with the ridiculous, the empty friends of Governor Clinton, who name him for the office so well filled by Mr. Adams before they are sure of even the State of New York. " You are presumed to know me ; you do know me ; and on all proper occasions I ask you to say that I am devoted to the administration of Adams, and that I think the State of New York would be disgraced if she should again forget what is due to Clinton. "Mr. Adams is willing to believe you are his friend. Your burlesque of Governor Troup's Message* is too good to be lost. It gave the Presi- dent a few moments of the most hearty enjoyment. Be not alarmed : he can enjoy a good thing in silence as well as any man. *' WImt think you of our friend Calhoun's speeches to the South ? I pray God that he may prosper, but believe me when I say that he cannot be President of this happy country before he is turned of sixty. He will be convinced of this truth before he is much older, and then he may place his influence where it may serve the cause of a great man. Write me often and fully. Yours, Jac. BuowN."t * George M. Troup, Governor of Georgia, and a pronounced " States Rights" man. t By way of sequel to this letter I have placed in the Appendix a document which, probably, now first sees the light. It was found among my father's private papers, endorsed by him, and carefully put away. It is interesting, not only as a contribution to the political history of the era, but also as showing how intimate were the relutious between Gen- eral Brown and my father, and how ample were his opportunities of 1828-1830.] ACTIVE POLITICAL CAREER BEGINS. 107 I have readied the year in which my father's active politi- cal life began. It was during the canvass of 1828. Andrew Jackson and John C. Calhoun were candidates for the Presi- dency and Vice-Presidency. General Jackson was supported by those who opposed the re-election of Mr. Adams. In Ot- sego County a Kepublican committee was formed, of which my father was chairman. In maintaining the cause of Gen- eral Jackson lie was also obliged to resist one of the most re- markable political movements that ever agitated the people of the State of New York. In the summer of 1826, while Major Dix was in Europe on his mission to the Danish Court, a great sensation was caused in the neighborhood of Buffalo by the disai^pearance of one William Morgan. This man, a member of the Order of Free and Accepted Masons, suddenly vanished from the sight of his friends ; nor, to this hour, is it certainly known what was his fate. But he had betrayed the secret of the Order, and there is little doubt that he was murdered by members of that society. Investigation disclosed the fact of the nocturnal journey of a coach, drawn by relays of swift horses, and the conveyance of a mysterious victim to the borders of Lake Erie ; and there were rumors of the launching of a boat on the gloomy waters at midnight, and its return with one man less than it bore away. The whole western part of the State became excited over the crime ; that excitement became in^ tense as time passed on, and it was found impossible either to detect the perpetrators of the outrage or ascertain the fate of studying the movements of that day. Wliatever helps us to discover the motives and comprehend the thouglits of men in liigh position is of general benefit; and no one can fail to observe, in reading the follow- ing paper, how keen was the sense of honor of tlie public men of that day, to whom it was matter of grave concern that the shadow of a sus- picion of their motives should tall upon the record of their lives. The subject referred to, as will be seen, is the attitude of Mr. Calhoun before the country in connection with the Presidential canvass of the year 1824. (See Appendix, No. I.) * ■ I s - I 108 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. "i II their victim. Failing in the attempt to bring the criminals to justice, the people in that part of the State, conceiving a horror of Freemasonry, determined to obtain, through the ballot, some reparation for the murder of Morgan. They ac- cordingly resolved that no man belonging to the Order of Masons ought to hold any public office ; and they made this the issue wherever called upon to vote. The movement had, at the outset, no reference to the polit- ical question of the hour. It showed itself first in the local elections of tlie autumn of 1826, as a personal matter exclu- sively — no Mason of any party was to be voted for or allowed to hold office. It was the result of a feeling, partly of terror, and partly of indignation against a secret society, which ap- peared to be able to spirit men out of this world with impu- nity, and defended the acts of its members to any extent to which they might go. As time passed on the excitement increased ; the Antimasons, as they were called, enraged at the failure of each successive attempt to detect the authors of the crime, and stimulated by fresh disclosures of the incidents of that fatal summer's night, kept growing in number, until they began to carry county after county, and assumed pro- portions which astonished the leaders of the old parties, and made them doubtful what course to pursue. Political Anti- masonry had as yet no existence ; but it became daily more evident that the movement must ultimately take that di- rection. Thus matters stood when the administration of Mr. Adams drew toward its end, and the question of the succession came up. The people of this State, other than those engaged in the Antimasonic movement, divided, part desiring the re- election of the President, and part favoring a change. It be- gan to be believed that Governor Clinton and Mr. Van Buren, who at that time was still in the United States Senate, would unite in supporting General Jackson for the Presidency. But General Jackson was not only a Mason, but very high in the Order. Governor Clinton also belonged to it. The friends of « I h 1828-1830.] GEyEBAL JACKSON INAUOUBATED. 109 Mr. Adams saw tliat to carry the State for liim against Jack- son it would be of infinite value to secure the Antimasonic vote. But the difficulty lay here : that the Antimasons, bent solely on their one idea, declined to unite with either party, and refused to merge their organization in any other. Such was the state of affairs when Governor Clinton passed from the scene. lie died suddenly, on the 11th day of February, 1828, at a moment when his popularity and influence were greater, perhaps, than at any former period of his life. In the autumn of that year occurred the elections for President of the United States and Governor of the State of New York. The party who styled themselves National Re- publicans supported Mr. Adams for President, and Francis Granger for Governor. Had the Antimasons joined them the alliance would have been irresistible : instead of doing so, they jwt up a candidate of their own, Solomon Southwick. The selection could hardly have been more unfortunate. The result was that Mr. Yan Buren was elected Governor by the Jackson party, although the Antimasons carried fifteen coun- ties, and polled nearly seventy thousand votes. Their move- ment had assumed gigantic proportions. General Jackson was inaugurated March 4, 1829. He im- mediately invited Governor Yan Buren to a place in his cabi- net, as Secretary of State. The invitation was accepted ; and on the 12th of March Lieutenant-governor Enos B. Throop became Acting Governor of this State. The condition of New York politics was critical. Of the thirty-six electoral votes General Jackson had received twenty, the remaining sixteen being cast for Mr. Adams. The Antimasonic voters, having no Presidential candidate of their own, united with the supporters of Mr. Adams against General Jackson, and thus the electoral vote was nearly equally divided. As the National Republicans were declining, while the Antimasons remained enthusiastic and hopeful, it seemed possible that the latter might become the great opposition party of the future. In effect, in the year 1830, as we shall see, they polled 128,000 110 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. <■ I 'I i' , % votes, and came near electing their candidate for governor. They were already preparing to extend their organization into other States, to hold a National Convention, and to take steps to secure, if possible, the Presidency. It was with this singular body, in the earlier stage of its his- tory, that my father had to contend, as a supporter of General Jackson and Mr. Van Buren. During the years 1828, 1829, and 1830 he was actively engaged in the Jackson movement, as chairman of the Republican Committee of Otsego County. Ilis name is signed to more than one address to tlie electors of that county, in which the character of political Antima- sonry is critically analyzed. According to him, it was no longer inspired by an honest and virtuous feeling growing out of the violence committed on the person of Ca^^tain Mor- gan, and aiming at the punishment of the perpetrators, but had become a political instrument for the elevation of ambi- tious men to power. lie held that its princijjles involved an indiscriminate condemnation of the innocent and the guilty ; that it had proved itself i^roscriptive, uncharitable, and bar- barous ; that in certain parts of the State it had separated parents and children, friends and neighbors, dissolved the very ties of blood, and in more than one case invaded the altars of religion, showing itself to be the same spirit which in other countries had shaken the fabric of society to its foundations, and filled them with scenes of disorder and ca- lamity.* For these and other reasons, he strenuously op- posed a party which, already identified with the fanatics of an earlier date, and now rapidly taking the shape of a purely political organization, disputed the field with the old Demo- cratic Republicans, and aimed at securing the control, not of the State of New York only, but ultimately of the National Government. In an article published in the JFreemaii's Jour- nal, May, 1829, ho thus discusses the subject : 1 * Addresses, dated Cooperstown, October 20, 1839, and October 25, 1830, and issued by tlic Republican Central Corresponding Committee. HI 1828-1830.] POLITICAL ANTIMASONBY ANALYZED. Ill •' There are but two views in which it is capable of presenting itself — first, as a moral, and, second, as a political question ; and these we shall briefly examine. " First, as a moral question. There can be no difference of opinion as to the outrage otfered to the civil institutions of the country and tlie principles of humanity in the violence committed on the person of Mor- gan. It is an act wliich carries its own condemnation with it into tlie heart of every one ; and it deserves tliat all the energy of the laws should be exerted to visit upon those concerned in it a retribution suited to its enormity. But it is difficult to perceive in what manner it differs essen- tially from ordinary offences of tlie same denomination. In degree it certainly bears no comparison with the repeated murders of Patty Can- non and her coadjutors, which have recently been brought to light in Delaware ; and if the motives which instigate to enormities of this sort deserve a comparison, it would be an extremely difficult task to deter- mine the relative degrees which revenge and avarice bear to each i^ther in the scale of guilt. If it be said that the abduction of Morgan was the result of a combination, and a deliberate plan matured and executed by a mutual counsel and a concerted action, the reply is that the same char- acteristics belong to the other cases Avhich have been cited ; that they are violent aggravations of the guilt; that no effort should be spared to pursue the culprits into their most secret retreats, and to lay bare the conspiracy to its minutest and most distant ramifications. If it be as- serted that it was only by means of the Masonic institution that the mur- der of Morgan could be perpetrated and concealed, we deny the posi- tion. Far wider and more desolating conspiracies have been formed and executed with no other bond of secrecy than that which is contained in a common interest and a common passion. Who, for instance, believes that the conspiracy which was near overturning the Roman Republic would have been better confirmed and concealed by the mysterious sanc- tions of Masonry, than by the barbarous pledges which each one gave to his fellows in the humnni corporis snnguiiiem vino permixtum in patcrisf But even were it conceded that the bond of Masonry lias in this in- stance been instrumental to the perpetration and concealment of a deed of blood, what institution is exempt from the same imputation ? The most extensive and barbarous conspiracies in the history of society are those v/hich have been formed, and in some instances accomplished, un- der the sanction of religious tics. It is only necessary to cite the Gun- powder Treason in England, and the Eve of St. Bartholomew in France, to fuel the force of this observation. If it be said that the spirit of Ma- sonry leads, by force of any inherent tendency, to the production of vio- lence and social disorder, the history of society may safely be appealed 112 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. m I .in y ^■t t i'ii ' tician in saying that we 'never shall be a Mason.' But the time, wc trust, is long past when the guilt of a few members of any society is to draw along with it the condemnation and punishment of all the others. It is one of the characteristics of an enlightened age to separate the innocent and the guilty, to distinguish between individuals and the societies or institutions of which they chance to be members. It is the province of ignorance and barbarism to punish the individual by anni- hilating the mass, to retribute particular guilt by general condemnation. The abduction of Morgan is unquestionably, as to all the guilty, a remove from the refinements and charities of th age towartl the rudeness and barbarism of ages Avhich are past. To visit that act with indiscriminate punishment would be a similar remove on the part of the whole com- munity. That such will be our course we are not yet prepared to be- lieve : that such a doctrine can long be even covertly propagated we do not believe. The whole matter of Morgan, as a moral question, resolves itself into a case of great simplicity. An outrage has been committed against the laws, which have appointed the penalty and prescribed the method of investigation. If they arc inadequate, in this case, to detect the authors, it is the result of that imperfection in which all human insti- tutions pailicipate; and it is to be remembered that far more atrocious deeds of violence and cruelty have eluded forever the researches of man, and are reserved for that final retribution which no device of art, no bond of secrecy, can escape. " Second, as a political question. As long as the efforts of Antima- sonry were honestly directed to the detection and exposure of a crime and the punishment of its jjerpetrators, it was purely a moral question. But in the course of its progress it has assumed a totally different com- plexion, not only by means of new elemints combined with it, but by means of the new objects which it proposes for attainment ; and it has now become entirely a political question. It is almost unnecessary to trace the influences by which this excitement has been gradually con- verted, from a virtuous and disinterested, into a base and personal im- pulse. The history of all free governments, in which great results are to be produced by acting upon public opinion, is jirolific in instances of the same nature. There is always a body of disappointed individuals, the fi: 1828-1830.] BIRTU OF A NEW "WHIG" PARTY. 113 outcasts and remnants of party ; men who arc ever sagacious in discover- ing that a declining cause has ' no ground of principle,' and tiiat a rising one is the cause of religion and philanthropy ; whoso hopes of success depend upon disturbing the established order and institutions of society; and who are always prompt to advocate excitement of any species, with- drawing its cftbrts from its legitimate aims, and going on in friendly companionship in its course to power. Among the Antimasons there are many virtuous individuals, who will in future times, Avhen the present indignation shall have had its crisis, be surprised at the transition which has taken place in their measures, while their motives have remained the same — who will be unable to comprehend how they have been deluded into the support of men whom, in dispassionate moments, they would deem utterly unworthy of their co-operation and confidence. It should have been a rcflectii n with every honest man, when the eflforts of Anti- masons were first po ntcd to the acquisition of political power, whether lie would be willing to share political power with such coadjutors. Nothing but undue passion could have overlooked the inquiry or ob- scured the reply. Happily the inquiry has now become a common one, and the process of separation is going on so rapidly that we may soon expect to see the Antimasonic phalanx reduced to a meagre array of bigotry and prejudice, supported, or rather enfeebled, by those derelicts of party who, for the last ten years, have been volunteers at every gath- ering, and fugitives at every defeat. " The whole matter of Antimasonry, as a political question, resolves itself into a very simple proposition, which this community is called on to decide. Shall the reins of government be continued in the hands of the party which now holds them — the party which has always been faithful to the great cause of Republican principles — the party with which all our most grateful recollections and our best hopes are associated ; or shall this party be abased, and insanity and passion be elevated to the scats of power? We would not wrong this community so much as to entertain the slightest doubt of the manner in which this question will be put at rest. Even if the issue of the late elections in the very strong- holds of this new political sect, where its merits are best appreciated, had not brought us unerring assurance of its approaching downfall, respect for the people of this State would forbid us to entertain a sus- picion which would be equally inconsistent with their good-sense and justice, and with the intellectual light of the age in which we live." The Antimasonic movement ultimately died out; but in expiring it gave birth to a new party, which in after-years I.— 8 114 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. attained to the political control of the State of New York. AsBuming the title of " Wnio," and thus cunningly casting on the old organization the reflection of Toryism, tiiis new organization disputed the field with such success that, in the year 1839, its candidate, "William II. Soward, was elected Gov- ernor. Thus parties rise and decline, succeeding one another in a measured procession, and each perishing, apparently, of diseases engendered in its full prosperity. I proceed to a subject which began to engage my father's serious thoughts during his residence in Otsego County. The question of slavery was, undoubtedly, one of the gravest that ever engaged the attention of American statesmen. On this his views never changed; they were the same in 1829 as in 1859. "What they were may be seen from two addresses delivered by him, one in Cooperstown, in 1829, the otlier in Albany, two years later, in the interests of the Colonization Society. A plan for colonizing the free blacks of the United States in some foreign country was first proposed in the Legislature of the State of Yirginia ; in the year 1816 a joint resolution was adopted, with only ten dissenting voices in both branches of that body, authorizing the Executive of the State to solicit the aid of the general government in attaining the contem- plated objects. Similar resolutions were soon afterward pass- ed by the Legislatures of the States of Maryland, Georgia, and Tennessee, all looking to the colonization of the free blacks of the United States in some distant region, where they might participate, in fact as well as in form, in the benefits of a free and independent government, and enjoy the consideration and privileges from which they were debarred here by the structure of society and individual prejudice. The first prac- tical attempt to give effect to these declarations was made in the year 1816, when a society was organized in the city of "Washington, with Judge Washington, of the Supreme Court of the United States, at its head, under the name of the Soci- ety for Colonizing the Free People of Color of the United 1828-1830.] COOVEKSTOWN AND AFRICAN COLONIZATION. 115 States. Under the auspices of this society several establish- ments were formed at Cape Monserrado and its vicinity, on the Gold Coast of Africa ; an extensive tract of country, under the name of Liberia, was ceded to the society, for the pur- poses of colonization, by the surrounding tribes of natives ; and tlie results were so successful as to lead to attempts to extend the influence of tho Society by every suitable means, especially lus the enterprise rested on tho exertions of individ- ual zeal and benevolence. Accordingly, a meeting of citizens of tho county of Otsego was held at tho Court-house in the village of Cooperstown, on tho evening of the 12th of November, 1829, to take into consideration the propriety of forming an auxiliary society. Samuel Nelson, Circuit Judge, and one of the Vice-Presidents of the State Society, took the chair ; and Levi Beardsley, of Cherry Valley, was appointed secretary. The objects of tho meeting having been stated from the chair, the following resolution was offered by Mr. Dix : '■'■ Resolved, That this meeting, entertaining a liigh sense of the benefits to be expected from African colonization, proceed to organize a County So- ciety, as an auxiliary of tho State Society of New York, for the purpose of facilitating the transportation to Liberia of such free people of color as may be disposed to be transported to that colony." The resolution was moved in an able address ; and, as this was the first public occasion on which the subject had been agitated in Otsego County, the speaker went more extensively into detail than would otherwise have been necessary, in ex- plaining the design of the American Colonization Society, the advantages which it promised, and the progress which had been made in the execution of its objects. The same subjects were handled in another speech, made at the Capitol in Albany, April 2, 1831, on the occasion of the first anniversary meeting of the New York State Colonization Society, at which General Dix was present by special invi- tation. ^1 1 1 116 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. i !)') ;■ » I refer to these two speeclies in order to show my father's estimate of the institution of slavery ; how profound was his horror of it, and liow keen his sense of the evils resulting from it ; while at the same time he felt the grave difficulties of the subject, and respected the position and the constitu- tional rights of those persons who had the misfortune to be slave-holders. Referring to the free blacks, and the benefits which they would derive from emigration, he says : "There is not in tlic history of civilization— nay, not in the liistory of barbarism itself — an instance of degradation so fixed and liopelcss as tiiat to wliich this unhappy race is consigned among us. It would be inaccurate to say that Nature has set up between us and them an insuper- able barrier. But certain it is that the difference of color, which is in the order of nature, has grown, through the infamous institution of slav- eiy — through tlie act of man and not of God — to be a living memento of bonds and servitude which Nature herself cannot efface. Among the nations of antiquity there was no such obstacle to tiie elevation of the slave to the grade of the master. There was no difference of color, no constitutional incongruity of the species, by means of which the act of manumission could possibly leave behind it a vestige of degradation. Freedom exhibited itself to him with all the allurenumts of consideration and equality; it excited the spirit of ambition, and animated the exertions of industry. Accordingly we find in the ranks of servitude men who added lustre to the age in which they lived. But I hazard nothing in saying that if these men liad sprung up among this outcast race, no brilliancy of genius could have silenced the suggestions of prejudice and raised them, as they were raised, to the level of their masters. It is in vain, under the influence of such discouragements, that civil rights and equality of political privileges are extended, iu a spirit of justice and philantiiropy, to blacks among us. It is a mere mockery of freedom, when our jorojudices render inoperative all concessions in their favor; when they are still consigned, by the condemnations ot opinion, to an in- feriority without hope and without limit. It is impossible that such a condition of moral proscription can bring forth any fruit of excellence or virtue. Ambition and the very hope of distinction arc poisoned at their source ; debasement grows into a habit, and the sense of subjection be- comes a part of the mind itself. I know that it has been asserted that the Africsn race is originally inferior in point of mental endowments to the race of whites. Sir, this is not a proper occasion for eutonng into a discussion of this question ; but it is worthy of reflection w iiether this m 1828-1830.] ADVOCACY OF FREED NEGRO COLONIZATION. 117 deduction, wliich professes to be drawn from certain peculiarities of or- ganization, or from the degraded condition of tlie blacks among us — I say it is worthy of our reflection whether this is not a mere arbitrary deduction, whether it is not at war with all legitimate philosophy, and whether tliere is not an unpardonable degree of moral presumption in attempting the solution of such a problem with such uncertain lights. ... At all events, it would be both unjust and unphilosophical to deduce their inferiority from the very degradation which wo our- selves have created, to expect any bright examples of virtue or genius from tiiose whom we have oppressed for a long sencs of generations with all the burdens of an ignominious servitude, and whom wo have finally endued with nominal freedom, merely to degrade them still far- ther with a moral proscription as oppressive, and more insulting, than the very bonds with which it has been exchanged. "I am aware, Mr. Chairman, that this condition of the free blacks among us is altogether witliout remedy ; that here they must forever re- main outcasts from the pale of our affections and almost of our sympa- thies. It is only necessary for each of us to refer to his own breast to feel that this is the fact. For where is the man who would admit them to farther privileges, who would elevate them to his own rank in society or give them access to tlie bosom of his family ? Where is the man who does not feel that tliey are a burden and an encumbrance to the body politic, pressing with a leaden weight upon its foundations, disfiguring its proportions, and impairing its strengtli? Sir, it is this very convic- tion — the conviction that their condition here is without remedy — which should render us the more ser'^ible to the long series of injustice with wliich they have been visited ; wliich should stimulate us to do all in our power to provide for them a refuge from their present debasement, where they may assume their proper rank in tlie scale of being, and where at least their degradation may not be perpetuated by rearing up their children and forming their minds amid associations of inferiority and social subjection." Again, lie says: "It is worthy of I'cflection whetlier any sincere friend of emancipation can, without inconsistency, withhold his assistance from the plan of col- onization — whether it is not a misconceived and a misdirected mercy, which would strike off the fetters of the slave to consign liiin to a state of moral proscription differing from physical bondage only in the name. Emancipation, as it exists among ue, is, in fact, a mere exchange of phys- ical for moral servitude ; and if the latter is not attended with all the 118 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. ! II' x :i I \l 1 1 '/• restrictions of the former, neitlier is it attended with the parental super- vision and providence which arc often its companions." There can be no doubt as to the views of one who uttered the following words : " Considered as a mere measure of political economj-, colonization has as strong a claim upon us in its tendency to liasten the extinction of slavery as any measure whir Ji can be devised for the promotion of the productive industry of tlie United States. It is an opinion as ancient as slavery itself, that the labor of bondmen is gradually destructive of the soil to which it is applied." Then, after fortifying this view by a variety of arguments and illustrations from Pliny, Tacitus, and other writers, an- cient and modern, and by the result of our own experience, he continues : " It is not merely because slavery is an impediment to the develop- ment of our national resources that its presence among wi is to be de- plored. It is an impediment also to the assertion of the rank which we claim to hold among the advocates of the rights of man. It may not put at hazard the success of the great experiment which we are carrying on of the competency of mankind to self-government ; for it is not incon- sistent with its success that he who is fitted for freedom should hold in bondage his fellow-man. But it involves, unquestionably, a denial of the fundamental doctrine of our political institutions, that life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are natural and inalienable rights. It is a degradation of the tenure of freedom from a principle above all human law to the princii^le of brute force — the principle from which despotism itself derives its title. It may not impair the stability of our free insti- tutions, but it impairs our influence in promoting the diffusion of their princiiiles. For who shall be bound to attend to tiie assertion of rights by us which we refuse to recognize in others ? With what effect can we pronounce the eulogium of free institutions when our utterance is mingled and confounded witii tlic accents of oppression and servitude ? We have, unquestionably, a justification in the fact that slavery Avas im- posed ui)on us against our wishes, during our dependence upon a foreign state ; but this circumstance will cease to be a justification the moment we falter in our exertions to redress the injury. " In speaking these sentiments I say nothing to which the sentiments of every liberal gentleman in the South will not respond. Nor do I 1828-1830.] EXPLICIT VIEWS ON SLAVERY. na fear, Sir, that their utterance here will be misapprehended. I believa the universal feeling of this assembly will bear me out in saying *^lv..t the slave-holding States themselves would not be more ready t'mn we to resist any attempt to exterminate the unquestionable evil of slavery by measures not warranted by the Constitution under which we live. That it has been abolished with us is the happiness of an accidental position; that it still exists in other sections of the Union is the misfortune of theirs. When and in what manner it shall be abolished within the lim- its of individual States must be left to their own voluntary deliberations. The Federal Government has no control over this subject : it concerns rights of property secured by the Federal compact upon which our civil liberties mainly depend; it is a part of the same collection of political rights ; and every invasion of it would impair the tenure by which every other is held. For this reason alone, if for no other, we would discoun- tenance and oppose any attempt to control it by unconstitutional inter- ference. . . . The American Society has disclaimed from the first moment of its institution all intention of interfering with rights of property recognized by the Federal compact to which the States are ijartics. It contemplates no purpose of abolition ; it touches no slave until his fet- ters have been voluntarily stricken o^ by the hand of his own master: all its purposes are subordinate to the rules of public law and liie sug- gestions of private justice and humanity. But it is to the South — to Virginia — that we are indebted for the origin of this great plan ; and we are indebted to that State at least for a co-operation in every plan which has tended to elevate the human character or to promote the interests and honor of the Republic. Iler voice was raised against the intrusion of slaves upon her during her Colonial subjection ; and, faithful to her principles, she was the first among the Southern States in endeavoring to free herself from the incumbrance when she had risen to Independence." These extracts present as clearly as possible the views of the speaker on the terrible subj'ect to which they relate. lie regarded slavery as in itself an evil, a blot on onr institu- tions, and an injury to us politically, sociallj', and morally. Still, it was an evil which had been forced upon us, and one which must be left to work itself out. The process, though slow, would be sure ; under the pressure of irresistible laws it must gradually disappear. No one might justly interfere with it where it already existed ; the rights of the owner of slaves must be respected and maintained. Still, the ulti- / Il^ i\ m In rHi ii I I fi til ■ i 120 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. mate abolition of the institution was merely a question of time ; he looked for it with assurance as a thing greatly to be desired, and in this he claimed that the sympathies even of intelligent Southerners must be with him. His closing words are strong and forcible : " Wc are bound by every motive of patriotism to promote tlie emigra- tion of a caste, whose presence among us is an impediment to the devel- opment of our national resources, to the progress of our social improve- ment, and to the fulfilment of our destinies as a great people. And we are bound by our devotion to the cause of liberal government to unite in the execution of a plan of which the most distant result may be the extinction of an institution wliich stands alone and isolated among the other institutions of society — a solitary monument op a BAnBAU- OUS AGE," Such were my father's views on the question which embar- rassed our statesmen from the first, and ultimately led to the Civil AVar. I think they never changed. He was no aboli- tionist in the technical sense in which the word came to be used, but he cordially disliked slavery, and desired its extinc- tion ; yet not by measures which would have invaded the rights of our Southern brethren under the compact of the Federal Constitution. In the year 1830 the home at Coopcrstown was broken up. Toward the close of the summer the office of Adjutant-gen- eral of the State of New York became vacant, in consequence of the death of its incumbent, Is icliolas F. Beck. In accord- ance with the wishes of political friends, Mr. Dix allowed his name to be presented to Governor Throop. He did not, how- ever, desire the appointment ; ho was happy and contented in his quiet country home by the beautiful lake. Writing to an intimate friend, on the 18th of July, he says : " I allowed my name to be presented to the Governor, with the expectation, at the time, that I could pass at least seven months here. I am told, however, that my residence must be in Albany, and I am, therefore, thinking of withdrawing my name. There is much to be considered on both sides. The 1828-1830.] APPOINTED ADJUTANT-GENERAL. 121 Balary is only $800, but the Adjutant-general is one of * the ilegency,' and shares a portion of the odium of all mishaps which occur in the administration of the government — a re- sponsibility which would be particularly agreeable to me. In short, it is a political station, besides being a military post of considerable importance — and a station, too, in immediate connection with the government. My means of forming ac- quaintances and of attracting public attention would be highly favorable. On the other hand, I must break up my establish- ment here, abandon my law business, which is increasing, and give up my hopes from popular favor. I know not what to do, and I must decide before I can receive the benefit of your counsels." On the 20th he writes to the same friend : " As to the Adjutant-generaley, I have concluded to let the mutter take its course. I shall make no exertion to obtain it. My name is before the Governor, and I do not wish the ajipointmeut, unless he M'ishes me to take it." When the offer came it was accepted. His promotion had been rapid, yet not more so than might have been exjjccted. It is observed by Hammond that, " from the character and talents of Mr. Dix, and more especially from the knowledge he had acquired of military science in the service of the United States, his selection by Governor Throop as Adju- tant-general was very judicious, and the appointment was approved by the public."* In a letter dated December 19, 1830, my father says : " I am compelled to write you in great haste, an i can only say that we are breaking up house-kee^jing to go to Albany. "It is with great regret that I leave this place. 1 have been happy here, and, what is more, quiet .ind tranquil. I now go to scenes of turbulence and commotion ; and, al- though I am fond of active life, I have no doubt that I shall look back with regret upon the peaceful valleys of Otsego." * Vol. ii., p. 241. 11 1 if! ft <•'! : V IV. ALBANY. ADJUTANT-GENERAL.-SECRETARY OF STATE. SUPERINTENDENT OF COMMON SCHOOLS- MEMBER OF THE LEGISLATURE. A.T>. 1830-184S. Albany. — Military Affairs of the State.— Report on the Militia System. — General Jackson's Second Term. — Society Melee at Washington ; Mrs. Eaton. — Rejection of Mr. Van Buren's Nomination as Minister to Eng- land. — Governor Marcy. — 1833: Secretary of State. — Nullification. — Speech at the Capitol at Albany. — Thorough Organization of New York Democracy. — "The Albany Regency." — Report on Public Ed- ucation. — Report on the Geological Survey of the State. — Decisions as Superintendent of Common Schools. — Financial Distress in 1834. — Rise of the Whig Party. — AVilliam II. Seward. — Coin and Paper-mon- ey. — Wild Speculations. — 1836: Election of Martin Van Buren, Presi- dent. — Banking Business, and the Sub-treasury. — Troubles in Canada ; the " Sons of Liberty." — Papineau, McKcnzie, Rolph. — 1838 : Triumph of the Whigs. — Retirement into Private Life. — Albany Society. — Home Life.— School— St. Peter's Church.- The Rev. Horatio Potter.— Tlic Log-cabin and Hard-cider Campaign, in 1839. — Editorial Labors. — "The Northern Light."— Literary Work.— 1841: Elected Member of the Legislature.- Illness of ^Mrs. Dix. — 1842 : Departure from Albany. — Voyage to Madeira. m 1S30-1842.] QUITS COOPESSTOWN FOR ALBANY. 125 IV. The removal from Cooperstown to Albany took place in the depth of the winter. For the twelve following years my father resided in that city, enjoying the genial and pleasant society of the place. His life was one of incessant activity and industry. lie filled three or four offices of importance in succession, and threw himself with ardor into the work de- manded by each. As Adjutant - general he had tlie supervision of military affairs in the State of New York. The security of the civil order depends upon its possessing ample means of de- fence against external enemies, and of protection from law- less and seditious persons at home. For these purposes standing armies are employed by despotic and monarchical governments ; while reijublics have been accustomed to rely on the vigilance and patriotism of the great body of the citi- zens. To raise and train an adequate and efficient militia is, therefore, an object of great importance in a country like our own. Among the duties of Congress, as prescribed in the Constitution of the United States, is that of providing a na- tional militia, to execute the laws of the Union, suppress in- surrections, and repel invasions.* It is the duty of the States to promote the design by such additional legislation as is adapted to insure the efficiency of our National Guard. A report on the subject of the Militia System of the State of New York was made to the Legislature, January 5, 1832, by the Adjutant-general. It may be found in full in vol. ii. of his Speeches and Addresses. It was called forth by a refer- m * Art. II., sec. viii., 12, 13, 15, 10, 18. 126 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. tt. V :l\ ence to him of certain bills which had been introduced in the previous sessio'i. The tendency of those bills was to treat the militia system as supei-tluous and burdensome, and still farther to diminish its efficiency. These attacks upon the system were not confined to the Legislature alone, but were set on foot in the principal cities by mock organizations, which paraded the streets in fantastical garb and absurd par- aphernalia, in derision of the militia. Tlie same spirit was prevalent elsewhere. In the Legislature of Massachusetts, in the session of 1830-'31, a committee was instructed, by a vote of fifty-two majority, to bring in a bill to abolish all drills, in- spections, and reviews of the militia, and such a bill was re- ported accordingly. Tlio effect, however, was to alarm the conservative men of the House, and cause them to look into the principles of the institution, and the alternative which its abolition presented. After a fortnight's debate the bill was rejected by a majority of fifty - six, and another was intro- duced giving greater encouragement to the militia than any passed since the war of 1812. General Dix was in corre- spondence with the Adjutant-general of Massachusetts, Wil- liam IL Sumner, on these nuitters, as regards which the two officers appear to have been of one mind. His views are pre- sented in his report already referred to. He argued that the safety of the Republic required that the whole body of the people should be trained to arms, and that a sufficient organi- zation of our military force should be kept up to maintain, against external and internal dangers, the public rights and those of the private citizen. Instead of approving the bills referred to him, he therefore urged a more thorough organi- zation and equipment of the militia, in view of dangers abroad and at home. It becomes a great people to be always prepared for war, and able to resist and suppress internal dis- order and violence. "While, under our institutions, a standing army is inadmissible, there ought to be ample provision for a ^National Guard, and for the education of officers to take the men into the field whenever it may be necessary. He re- i! I 1830-1842.] EXPOSED SITUATION OF NEW YORK. 127 garded tho militia of the United States, provided for by the Constitution, as a strictly military institution, peculiar in its character to the civil order of which it wjis designed to be the protection and support ; the aim being to arm and disci- pline every citizen, so as to be prepared to sustain, in all emergencies, by the united force of the whole conununity, a system established for the benefit of the whole, lie did not deny that there were defects in the militia system ; his train- ing as a soldier made him competent to discover them and to suggest improvements ; but his dread of a large standing army is evident, and he considered that the true source of national order and safety is the intelligence and patriotism of the citizens. As to remedies, he thought that they must be sought from Congress, and not from the State Legislat- ures ; the general government had cognizance of the subject, and the duty of the State organizations was to carry out constitutional provisions, not to reverse or nullify them. In this view of the paramount powers of Congress, and the pro- priety of looking to them for the necessary remedies for ex- isting defects, the Legislatures of Massachusetts and Virginia aj)pear to have concurred.* Referring to the peculiar local situation of the city of New York, he speaks of the importance and value of that uni- formed volunteer force which has now grown to our splen- did " First Division :" " Looking to external dangers," he observes, " the city, from its exposed situation, should be covered by a more numerous and better-trained force than would be required if its position were more central. But the danger from abroad is not the only one. Wherever great ^v ealth is accumulated are sure to be found those vices which seftk an unlawful sustenance by preying upon it. Great numbers of persons without visible * The reader may refer, in this connection, to the report of General Townsend and that of the Military Committee of the New York Legis- lature, in 1881. 1 128 MEMOIRS OF JOUN ADAMS DIX. occupations liave their habitations witliin the city ; and the detection of crimes lias more tlian once led to the exposure of organized bands of marauders, depredating under the cover of secrecy upon the property of the citizens. The dangers to be apprehended from riots and resistance of the public author- ities are nmch increased by the presence of such an abandoned class of transient persons. Tliat these elements of disordor have not led ere this to far more serious evils is, perhap be ascribed to the restraint of a numerous and wcll-traiK^d volunteer force, ca])able of being arrayed at a moment's warn- ing in defence of the lives and propex'ty of the citizens. In this view the uniformed corps of the city may be regarded as a part of the municipal police, and in times of emergency by far the most efficient part. The destruction of these corps would expose the vast wealth of the city to depredation, and the public order to scenes of violence and confusion." Several chapters have been added to the history of the Kew York mobs since that day ; and each attempt on their part to break loose confirms the justness of these views. The First Division of the New York State National Guan^ been growing constantly in efficiency. The interest o" Adjutant-general in it was rewarded by the sight of its fine condition when, many years afterward, he became its Com- mander-in-chief. I shall make but one more extract from this report. It concludes in the following impressive terms : "Nothing conUl be more nnimating to the enemies of liberal govern- ment than to behold the people of the United States, under the influ- ence ot inconsiderable evils, voluntarily laying aside their arms, and declining to prepare themselves, by exercise and discipline, for the pres- ervation of social institutions and privileges which their ancestors pur- chased witli years of suffering and a profuse expenditure of treasure and blood. No other event, it is conceived, would furnish evidence so con- clusive of tlie decline of tluit moral spirit in the people upon which our public liberties are dependent. "As a final observation, it may be remarked that, by impairing the cflSciency of the militia, the strongest argument is furuishe*! in favor of 1830-1842.] A IIAMPJRT AGAINST ALL ENEMIES. 129 incrcnsing tho regular nrmy. "Whenever it slmll become apparent tliat the former is inado(iiiatc to the public tlefonce — ii period which may bo indefinitely postponed l»y a continuance of murtial exercises — tho whole responsibility of maintaining the public order must be confided to regu- lar troops, in the pay and under the control of the central government. Under such circumstances the close of a war would no longer be a sig- nal for disbanding tlic army emj)loyed in carrying it on, but it would bo kept up as a provision both against internal and external dangers. Without reference to the incompatibility of this order of things with tho great principles of our political system, the vast expense of such a mili- tary preparation would be a constant drain upon our ])ublic wealth, and impair our ability to meet future exigencies, by diverting our resources from the higher and more beneficial purposes of improving our internal condition. In a word, it is only under the protection of tho militia sys- tem that the country is enabled at the termination of every contest to lay aside the more massive and burdensome parts of its armor, and to become prepared, with energies renewed by that very capacity, for suc- ceeding scenes of danger." The views presented in tliis report were am])ly vindicated during tlio late Civil War. Without the aid of the militia regiments, which marched to the defence of the national capital at tlio first note of alarm, the Federal Government might have been overturned or driven from its seat by the insurgents; and it is bt "ved thii<" the arguments are as ap- plicable to the subject \u, : as when presented to the Legis- lature nearly half a century ago. The report constitutes a de- fence of the system of a National Guard as an essential ingre- dient in the political organization of the State. The necessity of such a rampart against the public enemies can never again be doubted. The dangers which menace our peace and pros- perity are greater now than ever before ; nor are they likely to diminish, so long as base men are able, by the abuse of uni- versal suffrage in our large cities, to secure and retain power, and so long as the philosophical theories of the Socialist de- ceive the ignorant with their fallacious promise, and the out- breaks of the Communist stimulate the passions of the mob. Brought into immediate connection with the government, General Dix found himself at once affected by the agitations I.-9 i Bffa|t W ' '(f 130 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. /X ( |i timasonry was practically defunct. Those were halcyon days. I.i the State of New York the practical control of affairs was in the hands of a small number of men, to whom Mr. Weed had given the name of " The Albany Regency." Prominent among them were Silas Wright, Edwin Croswell, Benjamin Knower, James Porter, and General Dix. They were men of great sagacity and, above all, honest — as it has been well re- marked, aggressively honest ; not satisfied with being above reproach themselves, but refusing to tolerate in those whom they could control what their own fine sense of honor did not approve. The action of the Democratic party was deter- mined by the deliberations of these leading men ; they ruled with a sway under which public affairs were sure to be pru- dently and ably administered. With the Governor they were in constant and confidential communication. I have heard my father relate how they were always favored with the first reading of Mr. Marcy's Messages, which he submitted to their censure or aj)proval before sending them to the Legislature ; and that on such occasions they endeavored to ascertain what portions the Governor deemed best, with a view to make them the special mark of criticism/' Mr. Thurlow Weed, now far advanced in years, and probably more familiar than any liv- ing man with the history of the politics of the State of New York, in a conversation which I held with him recently,* broke forth into an eloquent panegyric on the old liegency. Himself one of their most earnest and honest opponents in those days, he yet bore witness to their virtues, and said that he had never known a body of men who possessed so much power and used it so well. Their enemies, he added, found neither flaw in their character nor blot on their names, nor could they ever gain an advantage over them, excepting in those rare instances in which they made mistakes in their policy, thereby showing themselves to be fallible men./ General Dix held the office of Secretary of State from * Written in July, 1880. ! : f Ji 1830-1842.] GENERAL DIX JS SECRETARY OF STATE. 139 jir February 1, 1833, until February 4, 1839. His labors during those six years were incessant. The subject of public educa- tion belonged to his department, since the Secretary of State was also Superintenaent of Common Schools ; and to him, un- doubtedly, the State of New York is indebted in great meas- ure for its Public School system. An act of the Legislature Avas passed May 2, 183-1, entitled, "J[?i Act concerning the Literature FundP As it related to the education of the teachers of our common - schools, under the direction of the Regents of the University, a certified copy of it was sent to that Board. They referred it to Messrs. Dix, Bnel, and Gra- ham, with directions to prepare and present to the Regents a plan for carrying the provisions of the act into operation. The report, written by Mr. Dix, as chairman of the committee of" reference, was given to the Regents at their annual meet- ing, January 8, 1835. It forms the basis of the system of education of teachers in the common-schools of this State. An examination of this report, which is contained in the second volume of the " Speeches and Occasional Addresses," cannot fail to interest those who regard the liberal education of its future citizens as essential to the stability of a free gov- ernment. The writer, after reviewing the systems pui'sued in France, Germany, and Prussia, gives an historical sketch of common-school instruction in this State. The leading and acknowledged defect of the schools at that day was the want of competent instructors ; the object aimed at was to remedy that defect, and to make our system of popular instruction equal in efficiency, as it was then suj)erior in extent, in propor- tion to our population, to any other in the world. The plan of establishing separate seminaries for the training of teachers appears to have been abandoned by the Legislature ; it was considered more advantageous to engraft on existing acade- mies departments of instruction for that purpose. The report recommends the establishment of such higher courses of in- struction at a sufficient number of points to be easily accessi- ble from every county in the State ; and considers, among \ \ i >hS |{ 1 1 'Si ■ If' (Is ; I 140 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. \'X- ,1 ' I i other topics, the course and subjects of study, the duration of the course, and the necessary books and apparatus, togctlier witli the evidence of qualification to teach, wliich shall be given by individuals trained in those higher departments. On all these jioints the recommendations of the report are practical and minute. I cannot conclude this hasty sketch of an interesting state paper without presenting to the reader two extracts as speci- mens of its style and substance. The lirst of those relates to the object of education : "It should not be for a moment forgotten tlmt tlic object of ecliication is, not merely to amass the greatest possible amount of information, but at the same time to develop and diseipline the intellectual and moral faculties. It is in vain that the stores of knowledge are enlarged, if the skill to apply them for useful purposes be not also acquired. At every step the mind should be taught to rely on the exercise of its own pow- ers. The pupils should be required to assign reasons for every position assumed in their various studies, not barely with a view to give them a thorough comprehension of the subject, but for the purpose also of cul- tivating that habit of critical investigation which is unsatisfied until every part of the subject of inquiry is understood. The result of com- mon-school education in most cases is to burden the memory with facts and rules, of which the proper practical operation is but imperfectly comprehended. This defect is at war with the spirit of the age, which is to probe to its inmost depths every su!)ject of knowledge, and to con- vert the results of our inquiries to useful purposes. Practical usefulness is the great end of intellectual discipline; it should be kept steadily iu view by the teacher; and he will soon learn that his lesson, when its rea- son and its object are presented to the mind of his pupil, will arouse an interest which, in the absence of this full understanding of the subject, he would have labored in vain to excite. " In the present condition of our common schools much time is lost and labor misapplied by injudicious systems of instruction; they are fields for collecting facts and details rather than for disciplining the faculties. This radical error should be corrected. Pupils should be made to think for themselves, instead of treasuring up merely the results of other men's thoughts. The great instrument of reform will be to make demonstration keep pace with knowledge. Nothing should be left unexplained ; nor should anything be allowed to rest on mere authority, excepting where, from the nature of the subject, it admits of no other foundation." 1830-1842.] GENERAL DIX'S INTEREST IN GEOLOGY. 141 The following picture of the teacher must, I think, have been painted from recollection of the dignified and conscien- tious guides of his own youth : " The cominittec cftnnot forbear to add that the instructors, in tho academics witli which the proposed departments may be connected, should labor to impress on tho minds of those who may be preparing themselves for tho vocation of teachers a deep sense of the responsiljili- ty which belongs to it. There is, in truth, no other in which a conscien- tious and discreet discharge of its appropriate duties can well produce more beneficial or lasting effects. It is from the conduct and precepts of the teacher that the minds committed to his guidance are destined to receive impressions wliich may accompany tlie individuals through life, and give a determining cast to the character. In his demeanor they may read impressive lessons of moderation, forbearance, and self-control ; from his rules of government they may learn the value of firmness, justice, and impartiality; or they may find, in exhibitions of petulance, unsteadiness of purpose, and unjust distributions of favor, a license for the indulgence of their own prejudices and passions. Nothing is more vital to the suc- cessful government of the teaclier, and to the execution of his plans of instruction, than a steady self-command. The most certain mode of bringing his own authority into contempt is to show tliat he is not his own master. The moral atmosphere of the school-room will be pure or impure according to the conduct and character of him who presides over it. On his example will, in no inconsiderable degree, depend, for good or tvil, the destiny of numbers whoso influence will, in turn, bo felt by the political society in the operations of which they arc to take an active part. The teacher should be made to feel so sensibly the im- portance of his position, that it may be continually present to his thoughts, and become the guide and rule of his actions. He should bear perpetually in mind that he is the centre of a little system, which, as time advances, is destined to spread itself out and carry with it, for the benefit or injury of all whom it reaches, the moral influences im- parted by himself." "With another department of our State annals General Dix- s name is honorably associated : I refer to the Geological Survey of the State of New York. By resolution of the Assembly, dated April 18, 1835, the Secretary of State was " requested to report to the Legislature, at its next session, the most expedient method of obtaining a complete geologi- 143 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. cal Rurvey of tlio State, which fihall furnish a scientific and perfect account of its rocks, soils, and minerals, and of their localities ; a list of all its mineralogical, botanical, and zoologi- cal productions, and provide for procuring and preserving Bpeciniens of the same ; together with an estimate of the ex- penses which may attend the prosecution of the design, and of the cost of publication of an edition of three thousand copies of the report, drawings, and geological map of the results." Such were the large instructions of the Legislature ; and I remember to this day the effect produced on our household. My father was delighted at the additional work thus thrown on him, and particularly at its character ; he began at once to collect nuiterials, and inform himself fully on the vast subject committed to him. The house was soon flooded with books on geology ; Lyell, Mantell, and other authors appeared, and we children used to wonder at the plates representing incom- prehensible monsters (the Plcsiosaurus, the Megatherium, the Pterodactyl, and heaven knows what other shapes), which, far more awful than any in the " Arjibian Nights," confronted ns as we peeped into those mysterious volumes. The General became an enthusiastic student of these works, and enlisted the family for the same pursuit. He entered into corre- spondence with the persons then looked up to as authorities in physical cience ; ho was knee-deep in rocks and minerals, organic remains and alluvial detritus, and the treasure of the animal and floral kingdoms. The result may be seen in his report to the Legislature, dated January 0, 183G, and in the subsequent appearance of that groat work known as the " Natural History of the State of New York." It was com- menced in the year 1837, continued at intervals during a pe- riod of nearly a quarter of a century, and although ^ ^ ''"' not yet completed, already consists of 23 thick taining innumerable illustrations of the t Dix to the substantial outcome of the report mad* Gene the Legislature of the State in response to their i'.btnictions in 1835. 1830-1842.] GENERAL DIX'S GEOLOGICAL IlEPORT. 148 It is liiirdly ncpossary to remark that in tlieac labors Gen- eral Dix had the sympathy of scientific gentlemen through- out the country, who watched with interest the ])rogres8 of so grand a scheme. Professor Silliman writes to him from New Haven, July 11, 1835, as follows : "I am gmtitleil that your groat and important territory is about to bo surveyed geologically, and that all its natural productions are to be taken into the account. "Our first anxiety should be that the work be thoroughly done, and that neither tiie time, the money, nor the men requisite to a masterly survey should be stinted. No doubt you will feel that the honor of tho State as well as its interests and those of our country demand that a liberal and enlarged view should bo taken of the subject. My friend and pupil, Professor Hitchcock, has done nobly in his survey of Massa- chusetts, considering tho means that were placed at his disposal— still, I should regret to see the enterprise commenced in New York even upon the Massachusetts scale. The plan, no doubt you will agree, should bo such as to furnish time, means, and induceuionts adequate to an investi- gation of the most thorough character." Governor Cass writes thus : " Washington, Junuary 2.5, 1830. "Deau Sin, — I am greatly obliged to you for your report. You have condensed, within tho narrowest compass, a vast mass of the most im- portant information, a complete sketch of the natural kingdoms of your State. I do trust that New York will carry out this plan. It would bo a glorious monument to all of you. " I am, dear Sir, truly yours, Lew. Cass. '•Geneual Dix." His old friend, General Upham, to whom he referred with such warmth in his autobiographical sketch, wrote to him on the same subject : " Portsmouth, N. 11., January 30, 1836. "My dear Sik, — I have the pleasure to acknowledge the receipt of your report to tiie Legislature of New York in relation to a Geological Survey of that State. I have read it with attention, and have derived from it much valuable information. I beg to tender you sincere thanks for this renewed mark of your attention. The pleasure I received from it is greatly increased by the recollections of our early acquaintance, and 144 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. the deep (I had almost permitted myself to add parental) interest with ■which I have followd your subsequent course and rapid advancement. It has been to me a constant source of gratification to learn that in every station you have occupied the just expectations of your friends have been realized. "The confidence and applause of political friends follow, as a matter of course, the display of talents, industry, and extraordinary exertions in support of the principles they have adopted ; it seems to be your good fortune, my dear Sir, to enjoy the confldence and respect of your politi- cal opponents — at least, I have reason to believe it so, for from such has my information respecting you been obtained. " That you may through life enjoy the consolations of an approving conscience, and at the last receive tlie Heavenly benediction, ' Well done, thou good and faithful servant,' is the sincere and ardent prayer of your old friend antl " Most obedient servant, "Tim". Upham, "General John A. Dix, Albany, N. Y." I shall add no more to this brief notice of a work which reflects lasting honor on all who had a hand in it ; few at this day know, and those who knew have probably forgotten, that the first impulse to that successful enterprise came from my father's hand. I have often wondered how he found time to do so much, or how he bore the fatigue of his official duties. I have referred to his labors in connection with three subjects of vast importance : the military systeui of the State, the edu- cation of its youth, and the description of its physical struct- ure and resources. This by no means completes the cata- logue of the results of the labors of those years. The State Library at Albany contains the following documents, in ad- dition to the reports to which I have called the reader's at- tention : '1 ! t ; ' . 1. Decisions of tbe'Superintendent of Common Schools of the State of New York. Selected and arranged by Jolin A. Dix, Superintendent. . . . Published by the Legislature. Albany, 1837, pp. viii., 479. 8vo. (All thes:, decisions are either by Azariah C. Flagg or John A. Dix. Each decision shows who was the author of it.) u .,. I 1830-1842.] FORMER INFEEQUENCY OF MURDER. 145 2. Annual Reports of the Secretary of State and Superintendent of Common Scliools, as follows : (rt) January 8, 1834, pp. 104, of whicli 30 are tlie report proper. (6) " 7,1835, " 107, (c) " G, 183G, " 130, {d) " 1837, (e) " 5, 1838, " 109, (/) " 3, 1839, " 163, u 34 t( (1 it. u 47 (i t( 11 i( 2.1 u (( (( u 41 (( u (( At tlie end of tins last report are some very interesting ob- serA'ations on tlic libraries of the district schools, a subject in which he took great interest. 3, Special Reports by the Secretary of State, during a period of six years, among wliicli arc one respecting convictions for criminal offences, and another made when transmitting reports of tlic New York and Erie Raih'oad Company. It is a remarkable fact that mnrders were so rare in those days that, whenever one occurred, it gave a shock to the com- munity. My impression is that during one year there was not a single conviction for murder in the State of Xew York. I remomber a house ■which stood near the roadside, a little way below the city ; in it a man named John Whipple was murdered by one Jesse Strang, who was tried, convicted, and executed in the summer of 1827. The peculiar circumstances of the case gave it notoriety ; and the scene of the crime had a mysterious fascination for us. We children never passed that way witliout profound sensations, whispering that it was the house in which ^^the nuirder" was connuitted. Xow there is a murder every day, and few give it a second thought, so familiar are we grown with that primal, monstrous outrage against God and man. Keference has been made to the thorough organization of the J^emocratic Ilepublican party during Governor Marcy's administration. A powerful cond)ination against it was form- ed by a union of all the elements opposed to the State and national administrations. The success of this new movement was in great measure due to "^^'le derangement of business and I.— 10 I n mm fill ; M I r V^ 146 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. '' \ I I I f consequent financial distress occasioned by the action of the President in M'ithdrawing the government deposits from tlie Bank of the United States at Philadelphia and placing them in local State institutions. This measure, although resisted by Congress, and even by the Secretary of the Treasury, was pushed on by General Jackson, who preferred discharging his Minister of Finance, and appointing another of his own mind, to failure in carrying out his pet measure. The consequent contraction of the currency, and the disasters to which it gave rise, brought on a revulsion throughout tlic country, tlie peo- ple reproaching tlie national administration as the authors of their distress. In the State of New York the evils referred to were not so seriously felt as elsewhere, and the elections of 1834 resulted in another victory for the Democratic party. Their position, however, was rapilly becoming critical, con- fronted as they were by a powerful coalition of National Ke- publicans and Antimasons. The candidate of the opposition in ISB-i was AVilliam II. Seward; a man dc^stined to achieve, within a few years, a political triumi^h in the State of New York, and subscqucnuy to attain honorable as well as perilous distinction in the trying years of the Civil War. Governor Marc}^, in his annual Message to the Legislature in 1830, referred to the dangers to be anticijiatcd from a spirit of wild and reckless si"»cculation which was then abroad. It appears to have been the result of great national prosperity. Our foreign credit was good, the products of agriculture com- manded a high price, and, since nothing seemed easier than to make money, every one hastened to grow rich. It is said that the passion for speculation in stocks and real estate pre- vailed to an extent unknown in this country before that day. Extravagant schemes of internal improvement were thrust before the Legislature, who were clamorously besieged by the demand for appropriations of the public money to carry them into effect. In vain the Governor protested against pledging the State credit in aid of public works until the Legislature should have pvovidcd, by taxation or otherwise, for paying 1830-1842.] INORDINATE SPECULATION DEPRECATED. 147 tlie interest on loans for that purpose. To these and similar subjects General Dix alludes in a letter addressed to the Vice- President. The letter runs thus : •' Albany, June 4, 1836. "My DEAn Sir, — It wtis mj- intention to have written to you long ago; but, to tell the truth, I had none but unpleasant toi)ics, and I supposed Washington would furnish vexation enough to try your equanimity without superadding our own. We had, as you may imagine, a most disagreeable winter; and although, as I said in a letter to Mr. Wright early in the session of the Legislature, I had more apprehension on the subject of internal improvements than banks, the friends of both contin- ued so to mix them up together that we have added near six millions of dollars to our bank capital, and provided for increasing our public debt about seven millions. The legislation of the whole winter has been a matter of bargain and sale ; and if we cannot get a different class of men into the Legislature, the sooner we go into a minority the better. Wc have been betrayed by the inordinate spirit of speculation which is abroad. It has taken possession of too many of our own political friends ; and it is not to be disguised that their conduct is more under the regulation of pecuniary considerations than motives of a higher ori- gin and character. Our electoral ticket will save us next fall; but, un- less our selections for the Legislature are more judicious than thoy were last year, another session will wind up our concerns for a short time, at least. I sliould lament such a change ; but I consider it infinitely prefer- able to the state of things which wc have had this winter. We must have less strengtli or more virtue, if we would administer the affairs of the State either for our own honor or the public good. The indications of a wholesome purification of our legislative halls are favorable. Only two papers iu the State assail Colonel Young and ]Mr. Van Schaick : not one undertakes to defend Kcmble and Eishop,* exccjjt the Troy Budget, which is edited by the former. If the people will look to their candi- dates for office this fall, we may do sometiiing next winter to retrieve our reputation; but much mischief has been done which cannot be ro- * ]\Iessrs, Kemblc and Bishop were charged before the Senate Avith fraudulent speculations in stocks, and with complicity in the transactions of a defaulting cashier. Kemble resigned his seat before the ques- tion »va9 acted on. Bishop was found guilty of moral and official mis- conduct, yet there was a majority against his expulsion. Upon this Colonel Young and ]\Ir. Van Schaick resigned, saying tiiat they would not belong to a body which recognized as members men whom, by their ofiicial vote, they had found guilty of flagrant misdoings. :l ' '; I' V Ml r. nrer I III i i 1*^ fi f II I' i ii !<^ I |1 W ! 148 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. paired. The vote in the Senate on Bishop's case can only be cured by expunging — a remedy I hope to see applied. " In relation to our internal improvements there is still great cause for apprehension. Our troubles with the New York and Erie Railroad are, perhaps, but just commenced. I anticipate an application from the com- pany at the opening of the next session of the Legislature for an imme- diate loan of three millions, without waiting lor any part of the road to be completed. Indeed, I should not be surprised if we were to have an application to complete the road at the expense of the State. I have no faith in the project; and I think we should take ground against any farther countenance of it on the part of the State, even though we lose the southern tier of counties by Si.ch a course. The history of the Che- nango Canal furnishes a precedent, of which we are constantly feeling the ill t'fTects. It has stimulated other counties to put a price on their political lidelity. Wheucver a local project is started we are threatened with the dereliction of the regions interested in it unless it is carried as a party measure. The principle involved in the success of applications advocated on such grounds is corrupt, and must be fatal if conceded. If we must purchase with approjiriations of money the i)olitical lidclity of every county which can get up a scheme of local improvement, we shall within ten years, if not in half that time, be obliged to sell out to some great banking institution, in order to recruit our pecuniary resources; and without the excuse which Pennsylvania has— tluit of continuing in existence an institution already established within her own territory'. Indeed, I have some fears that we may find difficulty in sustaining our I)rescnt pecuniary burdens, as there appears to be a settled determination that not a single dollar shall be raised by taxation for the support of the government. "I trust we shall see you soon; but, from all appearances, I suppose that Congress will not adjourn until tlie latter part of the month. '' I am, dear Sir, yours respectfully and truly, " John A. Dix. "Hon. M.Van BuREN." In a letter to a private friend lie makes some forcible re- marks on the same theme : " Albany, November 28, 1S30. "My dear . S and B have failed. I entreated the for- mer long ago to ^" ; up speculations. Sudden prosperity is the lot of but a few. while the ])ursuit of it seduces thousands to their ruin. . . . " We are on the eve of one of the severest reactions in business of almost every description with which wc liave been visited for years. I a fa . - .. f .-i ^ , -^\ 1830-1842.] INAUGURATION OF MARTIN VAN BUREN. 149 have expected it for months. The 3 who can live through tlie present year may save themselves; but the pressure lias, I think, but just com- menced. Speculation is the great cause of the evil. It has deranged everything, and locked up, where it cannot be reached, a vast amount of capital. Time will release tlio capital so diverted, but not until large numbers of persons shall have fallen before the storm which is about to sweep over the community. Do not set me down for a croaker. I S2)eak strongly, with the hope that you may learn a lesson from it. Eschew si^eculation. Consider industry and frugality as the true sources of wealth ; and, if you arc never opulent, you will at least be secure from those disasters which arc brought on by putting what little one lias at hazard." Tlic elections of 183G resulted in a victory for the Demo- cratic candidates. Martin Yan Buren was elected President ; William L. Marcy was re-elected Governor of the State of New York, and bj a majority of nearly thirty thousand votes. Mr. Yan Buren was inaugurated March 4, 1837; Governor Marcy continued in office ; and the Legislature re-elected Silas Wright for the six years' term in the Senate of the United States. The ascendency of the Democratic party was complete. "■ Never," says Hammond, in referring to that epoch, " did a political party whose ascendency depended on the voice of a free and intelligent people seem more lirmly and perma- nently established than the Democratic party in the State of New York in the winter of 1837. " In the Executive chair of the nation their former leader and favorite son was fixed, at least for four years to come ; their Governor — a man confessed by his opponents to jiossess talents which eminently qualified him for his station, and a most spotless private character — had been re-elected by the unprecedented majority of 29,000 ; in the popular branch of the State government nearly two to one of the members Avere Democrats, and in the Senate, the permanent body, they held a majority of more than five to one. In every town and county in the State the Democratic party was jierfect in its organization and discipline, and at the same time the moneyed IM Pi y< , ; :*..-! 4 150 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. \ *^' ' \m -:, B^ '', M.-'\ n\ interest in the State was most decidedly in favor of sustaining both tlic State and National administrations." It took hut a very little time, however, to pull their house down about the heads of those who deemed themselves secure for years to come — the customary successes turned to ruin- ous defeats. The reverses of the Democratic party were due mainly to their position on those questions of finance which so often frustrate the wisdom of men and make jiolitical diviners mad. The suspension of specie payments in the spring of 1837, just before the adjournment of the Xew York L-^gisla- ture, became general throughout the United States, and spread consternation in every direction. It would be diffici .t for one outside the political field to enumerate, or even to compre- hend, the varied phenomena of the agitation of that day. But in reading the history of the period 1 was struck by the prom- inence given to the question about the disposal of the funds of the government. The revenues of the nation : where should they be kept ? Not in a national bank ; that plan had been tried; and Genci-al Jackson had destroyed the Bank of the United States, to the satisfaction of local institutions, which found their profit in the overthrow of the gigantic monster. In those State banks, then ? That plan had also been tried, and with bad results : they were regarded by the President and his leading advisers as unsafe. The conclusion reached was, that the government should do its own banking business ; that there ought to be a total separation of the business and property of the National Government from the business and concerns of State institutions. President Van Bureu urged this on Congress in a Message recommending a scheme of an Independent Treasury. An extra session of Congress was called for September 4 to consider this subject. The result was to array the local banking interest against the adminis- tration. Then there was more trouble, and in more dangerous quar- ters, about the currency. An act had passed the Legislature, March 31, 1835, prohibiting the issue of bank bills below the 1830-1842.] Fllim IN HARD MONEY CONVICTIONS. 161 •e, lie denomination of five dollars. Many able men would have gone much farther, favoring such a system as that prevailing in England, where the five-pound note ($25) is the smallest denomination, and people must use gold and silver in all trans- actions below that sum. The measure referred to was very unpopular ; an attempt to repeal the act was defeated ; the popular outcry against it rose to angry denunciation, and the party in power were accused, not only as having brought on a serious evil, but as obstinately determined that it should not be abated. The Albany Regency were divided on some of these ques- tions. General Dix stood firm in his hard money convictions, and in favor of the separation of the govermnent business from that of State institutions, although he foresaw the dan- ger which must ensue to the administration. I quote from a letter on the subject, dated at Albany, August 20, 1837: "I dread nothing so nmcli in this country as the influence of pecuniary interests upon government. The d;nigor to be apprehended from a great moneyed institution is sufficiently apparent in the history of the United States Bank. From a large number of small institutions at a distance from each other, and apparently incapable of any concert of action, there would seem to be no cause for apprehension. But I am not sure that they may not, by an interconnnunication of views, accomplish as much as a single institution of larger capital. They have certainly the advantage that they move by detach- ments, and do not create the agitation or excite the alarm Avhicli are attendant on the movement of a single body of greater force. Individuals in their interest may be put in office in diilerent districts without any apparent concert, until a sufficient number is obtained to control the action of the government. Sucii attempts were made by the United States Bank, and they are likely to be repeated l)y the State banks. Indeed, some movements have recently been made in this State which indicate a settled purpose to build up a Bank party. Whatever may come, the Democratic party should ) \ '\ W t-j-r \ p i 152 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. ' in have no connection with it. I have no hostility to the State banks ; I would not break them down, nor would I oppress them by imposing on them unnecessarily severe restrictions. But their abuses should be corrected with an unflinching hand; and the first indications of an attempt to throw into our legislative bodies individuals in tlieir interest should bo resisted by every friend of free government. "I consider the prevailing derangement of our moneyed affairs as having been brought on principally by over-banking. The Legislature of this State has been exceedingly liberal to our btii^ks, by releasing them for a limited time from the pen- alties which they had incurred by pre-existing laws, in con- sequence of suspending specie payments. They should be contented with this indulgence, protecting them, as it does, against the consequences of their own imjirudence, and exert every effort to resume specie payments. I fear they are not all disposed to do so. ^There are a few sound bankers who are doing all they can to accomplish the object at the earliest practicable da}'. But a large portion of the banks will, I am satisfied, resist as long as they can, and finally, if compelled, come into the measure with reluctance. All the speculators in the State, together with those who owe the banks more money than they can pay, are averse to the resunqition of specie payments. They know that the restoration of a sound state of things will be their ruin. But their ruin is inevitable, whether the banks resume or not ; and if they could be saved by postponing a rcsumjition, it would be unjust to ninetcen- twentieths of the M'hole community, who are sustaining injury for the benefit of the other twentieth. The worst feature in the aspect of the times is the total insensibility of a large por- tion of the community to the character of a suspension of specie payments in a moral point of view. I regard it as dis- graceful in the highest degree. It was brought on by misman- agement and fraud, for the sound banks in this State would have sustained themselves if they had not been broken down by the weak and dishonest ones. To continue such a state of W^ -ifcV.>m.-iiM"JVJ» jT "- 1830-1842.] THJS BAXES AND THE PEOPLE. 153 things unnecessarily for a single day would bo the grossest dishonesty. " These measures should be insisted on as indispensable to a sound state of the moral and political body : "1. Let the banks resume specie payments at the earliest practicable day. "2. Expel from circulation all notes under $20 — not too hastily, but gradually, and without doing violence to existing interests. "3. Establish some general law by which capital may bo employed in banking with special acts of incorporation, so that the legislative body may not be in danger of being cor- rujDted by combinations to control it for mercenary ends. " 4. Separate the government from all banking institutions in the collection and disbursement of its revenue. " If these obfccts are not accomplished I shall have serious apprehensions for the jiurity of the government. Corruption and profligacy arc inseparable from the control of moneyed influences. Banks accomplish their objects by loans and dis- counts ; these appliances are a part of their machinery, and the suggestion that such means may not be legitimately em- ployed for the purpose of promoting the interest of an insti- tution by gaining over individuals to its views would be con- sidered, by most of them, as savoring of squeamishness, if not of absolute folly. The more distant such establishments are from the government the better. They are the ministers of commerce; they should desire to serve no other master. Above all, should they not desire to play the master over those whose breath has warmed them into life, the people. I am sorry to say that too many M'ho stand to these institutions in the relation of stockholders, or in the still more delicate one of debtors, are busy in seeking to give to our local politics a direction in favor of them — in other words, to protect the banks against the people. These movements are exceedingly ill-judged. There is no danger that the people will act harsh- ly; and the distrust which is manifested as to their intentions LiM n U'> 1)1 .'■'i. 154 ME Mollis OF JOHN ADAMS VIX. \i m r.Ul' ^1; 11 ' betrays, at least, a consciousness tliat their confidence has been abused." This letter has in it the very ring of the ])recious metals ; and I can say that my father's views on these points never changed. He was, to the end of his life, a hard-money man ; ho opjiosed the legal-tender act, even as a war measure ; he believed in nothing but a coin basis for private and public business ; he abhorred suspension of specie payments ; and it is a fact that he always carried some few pieces of gold coin with him, even through all the paper-money years during and after the war. The })recious metals alone he regarded as real money ; and he deplored the measures by which they were banished from circulation. And I confess to being unable to understand why the English system should succeed, in whicli all transactions involving sums less than five pounds must be carried on in coin, while Americans seem unable to exist without bank-notes of small denominations, and even now lament the want of that detestable fractional currency which was for so long a time a medium of exchange, down even to bills for three cents. It is one of the marvels of which we outsiders would be happy to have a thoroughly satisfactory solution. Yet it is a matter of history that the defeat of the Democratic party was due in part to its position on the bank- note question ; and it is said that the opponent of Governor Marcy, himself a man of comparatively small stature, received the affectionate soubriquet of " Small Bill Seward," expressive of the confidence of the people that his election would result in restoring to them their notes of small denomination, invid- iously termed "shin-plasters" by their adversaries. On that point the convictions of the average American appear to be settled past all power to change them. Misfortunes rarely come single, but by twos and threes, if not in droves ; it was so at that time. The dominant party, represented by the State administration, made additional ene- mies by taking the course which any respectable party in power at the time must have taken in an unfortunate and 1830-1842.] TUE CANADIAN INSVBRECTION. 155 disagreeiiblo emergency. I refer to those outbreaks 'wliicli occurred in Canada about the close of the year 1837, when certain persons styling themselves " Patriots," or " Sons of Liberty," and led l)y Louis Joseph Papineau, at Montreal, and "William Lyon Mackenzie, in Toronto, made an ill-judged and abortive attempt at obtaining independence. It is loss of time to study the movement, which from the outset M'as destined to failure ; I mention the affair only because of the damage which resulted indirectly to Governor MarcyVs administra- tion. To preserve neutrality, and prevent Americans from aiding the insurgents, were the obvious duties of the national and State governments; but the excitable and the ignorant do not discriminate on such occasions, and political enemies easily reap advantage from such a position of affairs. It need hardly be said that there was a strong sympathy witli the in- surgents, especially in the parts of the State bordering on the Canadian line. The causes which led to the outbreak were analogous to those which brought on our own Ivcvolution : it was the old dispute between the constitutional and monarchi- cal ideas ; whether the Canadians should govern themselves by their own legislatures, or be governed by the British Par- liament. So the affair had a thorough republican smack about it, which naturally took the American fancy ; and when the defeat came, and the leaders were in flight from the British regulars and loyal militia, and when many poor fel- lows were lying dead in the blood-stained snow, and not a few were swinging from gibbets, and some were hunted for the price set on their heads, and refugees were coming across our lines, sympathy became indignation. The party in power at such a time must suffer. Bound to observe the rules of in- ternational law and the comity of sovereign states, it fulfils its duty at the expense of popularity. No doubt Governor Marcy lost many votes, especially in the frontier counties, where sympatliy for the miserable rebels was strong and men were eye-witnesses of their tribulation. To the family- of General Dix the Canadian emeute had ) k 1.; 1 nnj ', ' \ ' illh \ iJfci 150 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. more than a political interest ; it came straight into tlic home circle. Amonj; the leading families of (;ana(la none were more conKpicnous at that time tliati the naklwiiis. Tlioy were connections of ours by marriage, and connnunication was con- stant between the households in Toronto, New York, and Al- bany. Tlie lion. Kobert Baldwin, at one time District Attor- ney of the Upper Province, was a man of great intelligence, and conspicuous for patriotism and enlightened statesman- ship. To liim, togeiher M'ith Dr. Baldwin, Dr. T'olph, and Mr. Marshall S. I'idwell, the Liberal party in Canailahad been accustomed to look for advice and direction, ^[r. Bldwell was requested by Sir Francis Head, the Governor-general, to leave the province at once, not from any suspicion that ho was concerned in Mackenzie's movement, but because of his well-known political opinions and supposed iniluence. Dr. lloljih escaped Avith ditlieulty; a price of £500 was offered for his capture ; if taken he would undoubtedly have been executed. There was much anxiety lest some of the Bald- wins might have become objects of suspicion ; and although it soon became evident by their letters that there was no ground for that alarm, the circumstances gave to what would otherwise have been a mere political question the painful interest of a possible domestic calamity.* Thus little by little the trouble grew, and the Democratic horizon became darker day by day. The fall election of 1837 was a warning of the disasters of the follewing year; the Whig party carried the State, or rather swept it, gaining six out of eight Senat^' ial districts, and electing 101 out of 128 members of Assembly. General Dix foresaw what was com- ing next, and probably felt that it could not be averted. AVriting to Mr. Morgan on the IGth of December, he says : "Between ourselves, I have become recently greatly dis- couraged at our political prospects — not because there is any need of our being beaten anotlier year, but because conserva- * See Appendix, No. II. U i i 11 1830-1842.] MR. MOllGAN WITTILY CARlCATUIiEl). 167 tisin is likely to bu kept alive by the conduct of influential individualrt here, who by means of speculations have become the dependents of bankiui^ institutions. Mr. Flagj; and my- self have both within the last two or three days been sepa- rately sounded with re Ei 158 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. M i MM'\ elected Governor and Lieutenant-governor of the State of I^ew York, and William L. Murcy and John Tracy yielded, with dignity, to the fiat of the people. The inauguration of the new State officers took place January 1, 1839. A caucus of the Whig nienihcrs of the Legislature was held January 31, to nominate State officers, and on the 4th of February en- suing General Dix withdrevr to private life, and gave place to John C. Spencer, his able and accomplished successor. As if to fill up the measure of their misfortunes, le Democrats lost their majority in the Senate in the elections of the fol- lowing autumn, a majority which the party had held during eighteen successive years. It was the crowning disaster of the series. Events like those which I have related are severely felt in the private circles which they directly affect. General Dix had exchimgcd a growing law business, which promised to be l)oth lucrative and permanent, for the uncertainties of political life. On his retirement from office it became a serious ques- tion with him, not only how to maintain his family, but how to employ energies Avhich demanded an ample field for their exercise. The loss of his public position M'as regarded as ?. calamity in that household which had been forming gradually, and of which, thus far, I have made scarcely any mention. This seems the proper place in which to say a few words about that home in Albany which had become very dear to us, and about which there still shines a pleasant light, as I recall a ^el•y ha]ipy boyhood and dream myself back into those far-off days. The city of Albany was at that time one of the mosit inter- esting to-'vns in the State : the seat of our government ; the home of a cultivated, genial, and polite society; the shrine of historical recollections. Something of the quaintness of old time still lingered in irs precincts ; there were traces even of the Dutch, rejime in its architecture, in the names of its citi- zens, and elsewhere. After living there some time one became perforce a loyal " Ivnickerbocker." I recollect more than ono 1830-1842.] MEMORIES OF ALBANY. 159 house with the liigli gable hrolccn, from caves to peak, into steps, and displaying, in groat iron letters fast anchored into the Holland brick, the venerable date of its construction ; the wide porches at the doors, with seats on either side, where the citizens would spend the placid hour of twilight ; the words in our vocabulary at whose odd, outlandish sound some of our friends from abroad M'erc wont to smile. As for the society, it could hardly have been more agreeable ; there was neither formalism nor ostentation, nor yet oppressive ceremony ; peo- ple were easy-going, friendly, hospitable. The names of the Van Eensselaers and Gansevoorts, the Bleeckers and Ten Eycks, tiie Paiges, Wheatons, and Rathbones, the Pruyns and Comings, the Planchards and Stantons, the Townsends and Forsyths, indicate the tone of the jilace. Governor ]\Iarcy's family was one of the most delightful of the city. In liter- ary circles Dr. Beck was conspicuous ; Dr. James McXaugh- ton, our "beloved physician," adorned the medical ])rofession; and prominent among the clergy were Dr. Horatio Potter, Hector of St. Peter's Church ; Dr. Spraguc, the eminent Pres- byterian pastor ; and Dr. Welsh, one of the lights of the Baji- t: )i: denomination. My father, after residing a while in Hawk Street and Elk Street, had liiuilly fixed his domicile in Washington Street, now called Washington Avenue. The lauiily then consisted of four children. I, the eldest, was born in Kew York, in 1827; my brother Baldwin, at Cooperstown, Xovember 28, 1821); another brother, John Wilkins, and my eldest sister, Elizabeth Morgan, were added to the number in Albany. We were a happy and united family of young folks, knit to- gether in love, and blessed M'ith the care of God-fearing par- ents, who Avatched our progress M'ith conscientious thonght, and did their duty by us. My fath.f^r always interested him- self in our studies ; he examined us at home on what we had done at school ; to him we vrcnt, with confidence, for help, whenever avc happened to stick fat't on a tough Rcraj) of Latin or liarti sum in aritlnnetic ; and many v;ere the even- •i:<' I. i I 100 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. .1 . \ 1% I •! Ir|l m !pr~ m\ ing-s -when, laying aside Lis work, he -would turn affectionate- ly to his little lads and pull them through the rough places, showing them M'hat they had overlooked, or exjilaining what they did not understand. Music was a part of our education ; its sound was always heard in the house ; both our parents played the piano with taste and sang agreeably. I do not know which of them I loved most to listen to. The echo of the old songs rings on still within my soul, and will do so till the end. Our house was of great size, M'ith a Avidc entrance-hall and large rooms. There was a fine shrubbery between it and the street ; on either side and in the rear was a garden, with grass- plats, fiowei's, and fruit - trees. "We had dogs, with classical names, one of which, a Spanish pointer, bore on his collar the words " Et trux cum La'lape Tiieuon.'' We had ponies to ride, and rabbits ; and there "was a long wood-house, wherein ^\'Q learned to be good pistol-shots and marksmen with the boM' ; and in the bitter winters we Imilt snow forts at the bottom of the garden, and had battles a bou- hi hianc. In the sunmier-time my father used to take us to a little island opposite the city, where he taught us to swim ; and in the winter we went to the river sometimes to learn to skate, and sometimes for a drive on the smooth, shining ice between our own home and the rival city of Troy. The house M'as never without guests ; usually some mem- bers of the family, either from the New England States, or New York, or Canada, were there ; hos])itali<^y was tlie law of the establishment. We went occasionally to New York, to see our grandparents ; our summers we spent, as happy as children could ]>e, at ^Vv. Morgan's favorite farm-house in r.rookfield, ]\Iadlson County, which was known as ''the TTnadilla." As children we were deeply impressed by Avhat we considered the stately splendors of the New York residence. It Bond Street. It Mas one of a row of white marble houses, once known as " the B <1 Street Palaces ;" and if one would have a striking li " f? -I ^H :sii:y!^ I 4 'At. ill, I ) 1 V :' ■ I !,: I v I ■ l.lj I i ' A i f' jf nil !iinter. l>on> ou iiis collar W \V((0(i-ai' s to vide, uiid rabbits; and there >vi)> u long , ii.'ftria wo loaruod to bo gotvl pictoi-tshot? and marksjien wilii tlio bow: and ir. tho bitter wititwfl wo bviilt snow forts ar the bottom oT th" w^'i Kad battl' ^f Id blah f\ in tht' f.nni77ioM- u>ind to tfa;Jfc<^ ua to a li^tlf i^i.'Uid rir.]^>f>si*.' t]i<. . and m tho ^^i!!ftvr wf» A«-t-iu to iho riwr isvnn ; n to uu^ ice child. stati:'. It Wiia 0;u' "the Bond nein- ... . .>..iU!.s, or .W:lrt tho liiw of • '<-. . ^./■\v i'ork,to HOC .,. n: - »--»',, >!iJ u;t](j>y 118 t'hiidren • - ^*" • • in IbNioktitiid, -' ■;..'.}; ir " Uio rnadilla/' Ac we (considered the Mir..n..toc, 14 Bond >^troet, tie iii'Uso;?'. onee Icnown ^p ;. one would liave a .strilring MS I l i;l; i i|i !(i '■• Pi 11 n i,i .:! t'l ''ii: Ml 1830-1842.] AN OLD-TIME NEW YORK "PALACE:' 101 proof of tliG mutations of this wor]d, and tlie change in our standard of magniticence, let liim go and look at tlio poor shadow of the past, as it stands there defaced by tradesmen's signs and patient under a series of profanities, and try to real- ize that it could ever have been called " a ])alace.'" My father's interest in our education, together with his re- luctance to send us into the thick of a miscellaneous herd of boys, induced him to try and secure for us the benefits of more select and private in Auction. One day there came to Albany an Englislnnan named "William II. Duff, once in the British army. His wife was remarkable for personal beauty and refinement of manners. They w^n'o in quest of the means of a livelihood, and it resulted in their opening a little school, to which my father sent us. There were some two dozen boys there of the best families in Albany. We were taught Latin and Englisli, drawing, fencing, and militaiy exercise. Old-fashioned drilling in Latin was the foundation of every- thing else, and to this department my father Avas jiarticularly attentive in his habitual examination of our progress. After some time the school broke up, and we were sent to the Pearl Street Academy, a much larger establishment. My father never lost his interest in Major Duff. Years afterward, when the war witli Mexico came on, he got him a connuission in one of tlie new regiments of dragooT\s raised for that service. Major Duff went to the field, but never came back ; his bones still lie there in the land of the stranger, with those of other gallant men who perished of disease or fell in battle. St. Peter's was the parish church ; the Ilcv. Dr. Horatio Potter our devoted pastor. Ho has since completed twenty- five years in the Episcopate, illustrating the virtues which form the apostolic description of a bishop. As to tlie old church, it was simply and merely frightful in an architectural point of view, though it dated fi'um Colonial times, and had the' arms of good Queen Anne on its communion plate. Xo such arrangement of chancel was over heard of, to the best of my belief, before or since. "What seemed to be two squarish tub^ L— 11 - • I 'i-: 1C2 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. ij: iu J a i ( of miiliogany, Avitli fronts shaped like the dasli-hoard of a sleigli, projected from the wall, ])recisely alike in shape and size ; their farther advance ni)on the congregation was re- strained by a stout rail, which kept them in and left room in the midst for a " comnuinion-table ;" in these alternately the service was read and the sermon preached. We had a large, square pew in the north-west cornei", Avith a table for books ; and there the whole family could be seen in their place as regularly as the Lord\"vday came round. At home my father read the household prayers ; at church he M'as always present ; the Rector was ever our honored guest. The faithful pastor liad the love and coniidence of his Hock, and their sym])athy in many domestic afflictions ; he went quietly and steadily on the round of duty, little disturljed by the chances and changes of this mortal life. Some time in those years Lord Morpeth came to Albany, and my father took him to St. Peter's. His lordship, appar- ently pleased with what he had heard, remarked to my father as they left the church together, "Ah! they do the music nicelj' !" This critical observation enchanted my father, who often told the story, with a hearty laugh at the civility of the apjireciative peer. Thus we passed the years fi-om 1S30 to 1842, when the home was broken up, and a period of wandering began. A hundred recollections of those days come back, with anecdotes and reminiscences innumerable ; and, if this were a mono- graph covering that period only, I might fill a fair-sized pam- phlet with them. But I pass on, merely adding that we grew to love Albany as a sweet home, and looked back to it through the unsettled years that followed as persons who have lost some good thing. ]^or did that feeling ever die away. When, in the year 1873, my parents returned thither upon the GeneraFs election as Governor, it was to no strange city, but to a familiar scene ; and they were welcomed by kind friends who still remained, or by the inheritors of the names and traditions of the past, and lovingly greeted as persons 1830-1842.] LETTER FROM PRESIDENT VAN BUREN. 1G3 who come once more to tlieir own, and find their own faith- ful and true as of old. Innncdiately after tlie fall election in 1838 Mr. Morgan received a letter from the President, urgiufij him to induce General Dix to remain at Albany. Mr. Van Buren, still hope- ful of his re-election, no doubt desired to have at the State capital some person possessing his full confidence, loyal to his administration, and ready to lend aid in the uncertain future, for the struggle for tlie Presid';ncy Avas yet two years oif. I give the correspondence : " Washington, November 14, 1SC8. "My DEAn Sir, — Will you excuse mc for troul)ling you upon a point with wliicli I liave perhaps nothing to do ? Our friend General Dix will, •without doubt, fall a sacrifice to Whig vengeance, lie is too honest, too usei'iil, and too proud to avoid it. What is he to do ■\vitli himself until the people recall him into their service? You know tlic anxiety our friends feel to retain him at Albany, which has been the theatre of his usefulness, and where he established for himself a reputation Avhich few men of his age have been able to arrive at. Would the sacrifice of his remaining there a few years without the certainty of public employment be too great for the occasion ? You arc a better judge of the wliole mat- ter than I can jjossibly be, and will, I doubt not, advise him for the best. It is my knowledge of the respect he so properly entertains for your opinion, and the hope that it may be favorable, which have tempted me to hazard the step I have taken in directing your attention to the subject. " Our reverses in New York have indeed been severe, but with courage and constancy they may not only be overcome, but converted to our future and permanent advantage. "IJcmeniber me kindly to Mrs. Morgan, and believe mc to be very truly yours, M. Van Buuen. "JouN J. Morgan, Esq." /J To this Mr. Morgan replied : "New York, November 20, 1838. "My dear Sir, — Mr. Dix liajipened to be in New York on official business when I received your letter of the 14th inst. He expects, of course, tlie visitation of Whig vengeance, and had made up his mind to return to Cooperstown, and to occupy himself with the education of his ' i 164 MEMOIRS OF JOUN ADAMS DIX. \\l \m *'fl'l children and such business connected with his profcs^'on fts might bo committed to him, and by country nir and exercise to repair tlic inroads made upcm his liealtli by tlie severe labors and close confinement to which he has been subjected by his present office. Your wish in respect to his residence in All)any was the sul)ject of our conversation while ho remained with us. We arc fully sensible how necessary it is that some one who took an active part in all the measures of the administration nt Albany, and who is capable of defending them, should remain there; but, without him, arc there not there those who are eminently so qual- ified? The difficulty with him, and in respect to a continued rosidenco in Albany, is, that he will l)e without sufficient emi)loyment, and that, to ft man of ids turn of mind and active habits, Avould be very distressing. Still, the expression of a wish from you in the matter is sufficient to make us pause. At all events he will not leave Albany till the latter part of April, and by that time he may be better able to decide upon his course. Tlie victory over us here is a commercial victory, anc^ I have not a doubt that our loss in this State will greatly contribute to c iir gain elsewhere, and will only the more certainly secure our final success in this great struggle. You boldly brought before the people the question on which I think their freedom depends; you knew the hazards to which it would subject your popularity, and that nuiny of those who called themselves your friends would desert you, and tluit possibly even your native State might for a while abandon you ; but you knew the people, and you knew that tliey would finally and in good season determine to govern themselves, and not be governed by merchants, banks, and speculators. Very sincerely yours, " JOIIN J. MOUGAN." In pending a copy of this correspondence to my mother Mr. Morgan generously removed one of the obstacles in the way of a continued residency at the capital, as shown in the following lines: " Mr. Dix must not he deterred from doing what he wishes on account of pecuniary calculations. AVe, and I say emphat- ically wc, can aiford to ho ahovc them, when consistency of character, health, or real comfort requires it." It was then decided that General Dix should remain at Albany. The President earnestly desired it ; and Mr. Morgan again proved his devoted friend, by averting the inconven- ience of the loss of salary at a time when his income from 1830-1842.] "LOG CABIN AND lIAlil) CIDER CAMl'AlQSr 165 Other sources was very small. I have a special reason for mentioning these facts, which will appear hereafter, and jus- tify this introduction of personal details at this point of the narrative. AVhatcver may have been the political hopes entertained by the friends of Mr. Van IJuren, they were destined to bitter disappointment. In the summer of IS.'Jl) he made a tour of the State of Xew York, but without the sid)stantial residts which were anticipated — the fates had pronounced against him. The following year brought on the "battle royal," which resulted in the total rout of theadnnnlstration. 1 shall never forget the oddities and whimsicalities of the day, wisely encouraged and stimulated by the shrewd leaders of the oppo- sition. It was known as the ''''Log Cahui and llavd (J'uler CampaUjnr All over the land rude huts were erected, and cider was on draught, flowing freely ; and, what with these novelties and the halo of military renown encircling the liead of General William Henry Harrison, the impulse toward a change i)rovtd irresistil>le. This appears to be the first time in our history in Mdiich a direct appeal was made to the lower classes by exciting their curiosity, feeding the desire for amusement, and presenting what is low and vulgar as an inducement for support. Since that day the thing has been cai'ried farther, until it is actually a disadvantage to be of good stock and to have inherited " the grand old name of geuileman." Then began the passion for titles betokening Innnble antecedents — the procession of "Mill Boys," "Ilail- splitters," "■ Shoemakers," "■ Canal-boat Drivers," then first set forth upon the stage of American politics — till now, if a can- didate be so unfortunate as to have had illustrious ancestors, it beliooves him in his own interests to hush the matter up. In the midst of these attractions — contemptible in themselves, but formidable as engines of influence — paltry, one-story shan- ties, with live raccoons crawling about them, and strings of pumpkin drying on the roof ; barrels duly labelled with titles appetizing to the thirsty throats of the "great unwashed;" '<::|v> ' i I I \ r •^«tMta^.B«£ib, . jS^. 0? // ^^ /J IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 IIIIM IM 2.2 I.I IM ^ m 1112.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation ^ i\ 4c^^ ^9) .V <», %"„.J^^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. K580 (716) 872-4503 TKO //M'i &>/ '<^ f/j 1 166 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. medals with the effigies of epauletted chieftains, neckties woven of motley hues, and other like toys, gravely presented to the eager populace — and with campaign songs setting forth the power and prestige of " Tippecanoe and Tyler too," and announcing the conviction that "little Van was a used-up man," the autumnal days wore aw\ay ; and hot strife grew among us school-boys of the period, and I and my brothers stood valiantly up, as became us, for the powers that were, while yet we secretly admired and horribly envied the seduc- tive paraphernalia which the boys of Whig families flaunted in our faces, and by means whereof they embittered our exist- ence. When at length things came to the supreme test of the ballot-box, and when the blow fell and the worst had ar- rived, and it could no longer be concealed that General Har- rison, rich already in logs, and cabins, and raccoons, and kegs, and cider more or less hard, and flags, and guns, and Indian scalps, had the Presidency also, there was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth among us juveniles, quite as sincere, though not so permanent, as that to which our elders might have given way. It came over our house as a great disaster. The home seemed likely to be broken up by the political revolution. There w^as no longer an object such as that which had induced my father, at the earnest instance of President Van Buren, to remain in Alban3^ He was at a loss what to do; the date at which to re-enter public life seemed indefinitely remote: again he thought of resuming his profession and bidding pol- itics a long farewell. My mother wrote : "We are cast down to cavth, polliioalli/ . . . the world is all before us again; and where to choose a resting-place is now the question to be decided. One day it is thought best to go down the river, the next to go far beyond it, and some- times fancy wings her way across the sea, and we imagine our- selves settled {!) in Italy — but this is too foreign a flight to please me, although I shall not oppose any arrangement that wiser heads than mine may think it advisable to adopt. My 1830-1842.] CONFIDENCE IN THE FUTURE UNSHAKEN. 167 pol- hnsband goes to Boston in a few days to deliver a lecture, not a shcmp speech; and as lie stops in New York on his way lie and papa will doubtless come to some sage determination." The letter from which I have just quoted r-istles with in- dignation against the fickle and inconstant people, of whose " virtue " and " intelligence " my mother appears at that mo- ment to have entertained a contemptible opinion. The Gen- eral, however, adds a re-assuring postscript in their vindica- tion, from Boston (November 26, 1840), saying : " My confidence in the ' virtue and intelligence of the peo- ple ' is unshaken. They have been deceived ; but I await the ' sober second thought,' and even the third, if necessary." But Lis own sober second thought was that it was best to remain where he was ; he felt, no doubt, that his career as a public man was not yet finished ; he had, perhaps, the intui- tion of future successes. AVhat the address or lecture was which he went to Boston to deliver I do not know, and have not been at the pains to find out ; but there is a point in connection with it too good to be lost. Writing to his brother, Captain Roger S. Dix, of the army, after his return, December 13, 1810, and referring to what he had been told — that the newspapers in Boston, with one exception, had spoken well of it — he says : " I wish to know what paper is referred to as an exception, and what it said. I desire to know for my own benefit. Nothing does a man so much good as honest criticism, how- ever severe it may be. I can truly say I have never been anxious to hunt up compliments, when I have been told that they have been paid to me. But fault-finding criticisms I am always desirous of seeing, because they often furnish hints which may be turned to good account. As I have been of late, and shall probably be hereafter, somewhat engaged in public speaking, I wish to know what my faults are, that I may correct them if I can." Thus thrown out of public life, General Dix directed his attention to a new pursuit. Desiring to add something to 168 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS BIX. his incomo, and to find a proper field for liis versatile genius and indefatigable activity in useful and congenial occupation, he resolved to adopt the profession of editor. It was deter- mined to establish a journal of a literary and scientific char- acter ; of this he was to have the immediate supervision, while gentlemen conspicuoiis in various professions were to aid in the editorial work. The name selected was The Northern Light I and with General Dix there were associated Dr. T. Romeyn Beck, author of a treatise on Medical Jurisprudence, which was regarded as a standard work in Europe as well as in this country ; Gideon Ilawley, Secretary to the Board of Begents of the University ; Amos Dean, Professor of Medi- cal Jurisprudence in tha Albany Medical College: Thomas W. Olcott, President of the Mechanics' and Farmers' Bank, in Albany ; and Edward C. Delevan, who was for many years at tlie head of the temperance movement in the United States. It seems that the object had in view was at first misunder- stood. An unkindly notice of it appeared in the columns of the New York Evening Express, which gave General Dix the opportunity of defining its character in a communication to the editor of that newspaper. He says : "The notice is founded upon so entire a misapprehension of tlie de- sigu of The Northern Light, that I deem it due to the j^roprietors and the gentlemen associated with me in conducting it to state its true nature and objects; and I do not doubt that you will with pleasure give the statement to your readers, and thus correct the erroneous impression which you have, I am sure unintentionally, created. The purposes for which The Northern Light was established were to disseminate useful knowledge, more particularly in respect to facts applicable to the practi- cal business of life, and to open to free discussion a single branch of politi- cal science — political economy, including the tariff and the policy of pro- tecting duties. I consented to take charge of the publication, with the assistance of five other gentlemen, whose names are given in the pros- pectus, and with the distinct and express understanding that its columns were to be kept free from all partisan discussions. The gentlemen re- ferred to would not have been concerned in the publication but upon the condition of abstaining from party politics. Several of them have been uniformly opposed to the political party with which I have always 1830-1842.] " THE NOETHERN LIGHT:' 169 iros- imns re- lipoii liave rays been connected. They believed with myself and the proprietors of The Northern Light that, after a long and angry political contest, a portion of the public attention might be turned, with pleasure and profit, to the discussion of less exciting topics than those which entered into the re- cent election, and that among the literary and scientific publications in which the country abounds a place might be found for theirs. The top- ics referred to, for the most part of practical usefulness, will be presented in a popular shape, and made intelligible to all classes of readers. The only source of anxiety to the members of the association is a distrust of their ability to render the enterprise in its execution worthy of the de- sign. Among those who know us we are sure no apprehension will be felt as to a scrupulous adherence on our part to the avowed purposes of the publication. Those who are not personally acquainted with us will, it is believed, feel equally at case on this point, when it is considered that we belong to different political parties, and that we have all an equal voice in deciding questions concerning the management of the editorial department. I will only add that if you, or any of your friends, will do us the favor to prepare a paper on any subject embraced in our prospectus, it will afford us the greatest pleasure to insert it." The first number of The Northern Light appeared in April, 1841 : the last that I can find is that of July, 1843. Its liter- ary excellence may be inferred from the fact that among its contributors were Professor Alonzo Potter, of Union Col- lege, afterward Bishop of Pennsylvania ; J, R. Poinsett, Min- ister to Mexico, and Secretary of "War, under Mr. Van Buren ; the Rev. "William Croswell, D.D. ; Thomas Cole, the painter ; Miss Sedgwick ; Edwin Croswell ; J. Louis Tellkampf, Pro- fessor of German in Columbia College ; Noah "Webster ; Matthew Henry "Webster; Professor Charles AV. Ilackley; Alfred B. Street ; Amos Dean ; Samuel S. Randall, the biog- rapher of Thomas Jefferson ; the Rev. Horatio Potter, now Bishop of Kew York ; John L. O'Sullivan ; Horace B. Web- ster; Salem Town; James E. Freeman, the painter; Gerritt Smith ; Willis Gaylord ; James Hall, geologist in the State Survey ; AVilliam II. Jansen ; Drs. E. B. O'Callaghan, He- man J. Redfield, and Caleb Lyon, of Lyonsdale. In addition to these the five gentlemen whose names appear on the pros- pectus were occasional contributors. General Dix, besides *ff L'li II I 170 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. having the editorial management, wrote a series of articles on the English poets, beginning with Sir Henry Wotton, Edmund Spenser, and Ben Jonson, and also treated, in his usual lumi- nous and scholarly manner, of many other subjects, among which were the Corn-laws in England and France, the state of the laboring population of Ireland, the temperature of the earth and meteorological phenomena, the organic chemistry of agriculture and physiology, and the charms of rural life, giving occasional translations of romances and tales from the French language. Among the letters of that period is one from Henry James Anderson, a very intimate friend, and one of the most charm- ing and accomplished gentlemen of his day. General Dix held him in the highest possible regard, not only for his sci- entific attainments and the purity and nobility of his charac- ter, but also for the peculiar raciness and delicate wit which rendered his society so agreeable. It appears that he had ap- plied to Dr. Anderson for a contribution to The JS'orthern Light; this is the answer which he received : "New York, December 18, 1841. " Dear Sin, — Your notice that you held on account of Tim Northern Light a post-note of mine promising ' an article ' to tliat journal, came duly to hand, and is hereby acknowledged. "As I keep no bill-book I am unable to refer to anything better than my memory for the date and maturity of 'said' post-note. It seems to me that it ran in this way : ' I do not promise to write an article for The Northern Lights either for a day certain or uncertain, near or remote.' I thought I was safe and had contracted no debt, but now I find that I had 'put out paper,' and must make arrangements to redeem. I certainly did not intend to 'create stock;' but if I have, as it has not yet passed into tlie hands of innocent third parties, I feel strongly inclined to 'repudiate.' " Since I sent you my non-promissory note I have entered into positive engagements with a publisher to deliver a certain quantity of 'copy ' in a given time. This is my first departure from the cash system — my first step in the downward path of debt. I am already seized with the hor- rors of remorse, and I dare say I shall pay for my folly by seeing myself gazetted as a bankrupt under the new act. 1830-1842.] RECALLED TO PUBLIC LIFE. 171 had ainly issed to first hor- :self "In the name of humanity do look again at that no-bond of mine and see if I am 'liable,' under the strictest letter of the law-merchant, or even under the sharpest interpretation of the law-moral. I feel quite dis- tressed by this unexpected addition to my obligations; and yet, if you can convince my 'conscientiousness' — a bump which is not wanting in size — I will pay you, or order, in the shortest time and best paper I can command. " We have just organized here a little band of ' Brothers,' as we call ourselves. We are 'free-trade-mad,' and propose to dine together at Blancard's every fortnight or week, perhaps, on beefsteak and oysters, with wine on the voluntary principle, and rejoice in tlie wisdom which we shall utter on the occasion. Our first meeting is this evening, at five, " I cannot close without my heartfelt congratulations on the result of the elections. And happy I am that you, among the first I loved for their devotedness to Truth and Right, have held, througl\ cither fortune, unfalteringly to the course which the appeal to the people's sober thought has so gloriously vindicated. " Truly yours, IIenhy Jas. Andekson," The General's editorial labors were soon interrupted. In the year 1841 he was recalled to public life by election as member of Assembly. Tlie event caused a sensation at the house on AVashington Street. The General was absent from the city at the time. One evening, as my mother was sitting quietly in her room, Mr. John Yan Buren, with two or three friends, rushed in and told her that she must make haste and shut all the doors, as a vast body of the unterrified Democ- racy, wild with enthusiasm, and flaring with torches and ban- ners, was moving up toward the house to congratulate the General on his election. Measures having been rapidly taken for defence from the embraces of the delighted crowd, Mr. Van Buren met them at the entrance of the grounds, and, mounted on a chair, addressed them in that characteristic style which made him one of the most popular of public speakers. They accepted the apology thus rendered for the absence of the object of their quest, and, after the usual uproar of cheers and shouts, relieved the household of aj^pre- hension and boisterously withdrew. General Dix's election gave gratification in many quarters. I'll ill iii. ii mmismaBaam ' ! ! 172 MEMOIltS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. I select one from a large number of similar letters addressed to him at that time. It is from General Borland : " Montgomery, November 1?, 1841. " General John A. Dix: " Deau Sir, — In view of the recent triumphs of Democracy I cannot withliokl an expression of my high gratification. "And will you allow me to say (for so I verily believe) that no single event, in the whole range of Democratic success, has been more grateful to my feelings, or more important to the great cause of liberal principles, than your own election. " For years past we have, as a party, too much neglected moral worth, integrity of character, sound sense, and high literary attainments. "Your success will, I trust, induce our friends thoughout the State hereafter to look more for your likeness than they have for years past. " My friend Mr. Hill* having afforded a favorable opportunity, in jus- tice to my own feelings I could not but embrace it, to give you a faint expression of the high regard I entertain for your character. " Yours cordially, etc., Cuarles Borland." The following year brought with it a terrible anxiety, ending in the breaking up of our home, amid sorrowful forebodings and tearful separations. The life at Albany abruptly ended, and we want forth, to return to it, as a household, no more. My mother's health, which had not been strong, became so seriously impaired, that her medical advisers advised a re- moval to a milder climate for the winter. The urgency being great, preparations for departure were hurriedly made. After much consultation and inquiry the island of Madeira was se- lected as the best place in which to pass the ensuing months. Access to it was not easy ; but it happened that a small ship bound for Funchal was then lying in the port of New York. In that vessel, the Mexican, 300 tons. Captain Doming, my parents, with three of their children, embarked on the 16th of October and for the second time took their way across the sea. * The Hon. N. P. Hill. ■ K.JIII MW T W M W 1I V. ABSENCE FEOM HOME. MADEIRA.-SPAIN -ITALY. A.D. 1843—1844. R f Voyage to Madeira. — Funchal. — Passage to Cadiz. — Seville. — Holy Week. — Murillo's Paintings. — Gibraltar. — Spanish Coast. — Florence. — The Villa d'Elci.— Rome. — France. — Navigation of the Loire.— Havre Packet-ship. 1841i-1844.] A NOW RARE LITTLE BOOK. 175 V. TiiEKE is a little volume, of 377 pages, 12mo, wliicli may occasionally be picked up in those shops in which they deal in rare books. It is entitled "A "Winter in Madeira, and a Summer in Spain and Florence." It was written by my father some time after his return from this second journey to Europe, and contains a narrative of one of the most interesting and happy years of his life. Agreeably written, and illustra- ted by a few woodcuts, rather coarsely executed, from some of my own pencil sketches, it gives an account of our voyage from New York to Madeira, of the heavy gale encountered on the way, of our passage through the Azores, and of our ar- rival, on the 11th of November, at the exquisitely beautiful island which was to form our winter home. Guided by that little volume, the reader may pass from scene to scene amid the superb mountains and dizzy ravines, and become familiar with the manners and customs of the simple and industrious peasantry of that dependency of the. Portuguese crown. If he have a taste for them he may revel in statistics concerning climate and productions, commerce and trade, agriculture, gov- ernment, and religion. He will see us in our pleasant apart- ments near the Carreira, under the charge of our merry Portu- guese landlord, Gambaro Baxixa. He may read the exploits of Don Miguel, and sigh over the romance of Eobert Machin and Anne D'Arfet. It was a winter's idyl, a grateful time of rest and refreshment, in one of the most delicious climates in the world, where an invalid is hardly ever kept in-doors by rain, where the sun is rarely too warm for open-air exercise, and where a light overcoat suffices for the coolest day ; where one can go only on horseback or on foot, and where each path , 170 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. leads to Bomo grand Bpcciincn of tlio works of the Almighty, Bucli us volcanic regions alone exhibit in perfection; where the roads are often bordered by hedges of heliotrope higher than the tallest man's head, and the vine spreads her clusters to the noonday, and the century - plant shoots up, with her candelabra of white blossoms, all but lumoticed amid the bloom of the landscajie. If anything were needed to en- hance the thorough enjoyment of that happy winter, it was supplied in my mother's perfect recovery of her health, and in the birth of another beloved daughter of our house. How full of enjoyment were those months to one tired out by hard work, and long tossed on the waves of New York politics, may be discovered in the General's grajihic account of that winter of 1842-'43. From the book referred to — which, by -the -bye, went through five editions, though now almost forgotten — I take the account of our departure from the beautiful island, and the memorable passage to Cadiz. He says : " On the 17th of March we bade adieu to Madeira, and with the most sincere regret. The winter liad not passed away without bringing with it some inconveniences and trials ; but these were far over-balanced by the ir'ldness of the atmos- phere in which we lived, and the beauties of the scenery by which we were surrounded. " It was about four in the afternoon when we left the beach to embark in the little brig which was to convey us to the European continent. In an hour more we were sailing slow- ly out of the roadstead. The sun shone with unusual splen- dor, and as he sunk down in the west, casting heavy shadows across the ravines back of the city, and bathing the tops of the mountains in golden light, the scene was scarcely less beautiful in our eyes, familiar as it had become, than when it first broke upon our sight. During the night we passed the Desertas near enough to make out their harsh, ragged outlines in the moonlight. At dawn the next day they were far in the distance, faintly relieved by the shadowy form of Madeira in ''J ^ 184* 1844.] JUl'ii AND PERILS OF THE OCEJX. 177 by tho background. In a few hours more tliey had all disap- peared, and nothing remained to bound tho sight but an un- broken horizon of sky and waves. " The passage from Madeira to Cadiz, the port to which we M'ere destined, averages six or seven days. The vessel in which we had embarked was a small one, not measuring more than 170 tons, but she was strong, skilfully commanded, and had a crew of fine young men. She was from the city of Boston, and bore its name. She had for eight years baitted the fogs and north-easters which preside over the New England coast, jind there was a guarantee in this that she would do her duty in case of need. Ilcr cabin was small ; but having discharged her cargo at Funchal, and being in ballast, a roomy apartment was fitted up in her hold, and a neat and delightful one it was, of clean, freshly planed but ujipainted boards, far outdo ing the principal cabin in convenience and comfort. It had got the name of the steerage while the carpenter was fitting it up, but it soon sunk this cognomen in the more appropriate one of the gentlemen's cabin. The passengers were seventeen in number, including ladies, gentlemen, children, and servants, and, with the crew added, we nmstered twenty-six souls. The wind was fair, the skies serene, and the moon was in her third quarter, giving us fine bright nights. Time never hangs heav- ily at sea under such circumstances. Even sea-sickness loses half its horrors when you know that you are speeding on to your destination, and that your sufferings will soon be at an end. For two days and nights the wind blew steadily, but was constantly thougli almost imperceptibly increasing. From five and six knots an hour our log began to report seven and eight, and nt last nine and ten ; the sky became overcast, the rain came down at intervals in torrents, without any abate- ment of the wind, and a dense fog set in on the morning of the fourth day, just at dawn, when we were indulging the hope of seeing land. Our situation was now extremely un- pleasant. The wind blew violently — so much so that the courses were taken in, and the vessel was running under I.— 12 mmid^ 178 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. close-reefed top-sails — and we were on a lee-sliore, in a thick fog. The captain had never been at Cadiz, but he had been up all night studying an excellent chart, which he had found at Funchal, and had made himself as familiar with the coast and harbor as though he had navigated them all his life. At nine in the morning he told a few of us that he should be op- posite the light-house in an hour, if his reckoning was right, and he must then choose between the alternatives of standing in or of attempting to beat out to sea. The latter would have been full of peril, for if the wind had continued to increase, as in fact it did, we should in all probability have gone ashore before night. The captain at half-past nine took his station in the foretop, and in half an hour more stood boldly in for the land. To those of us who understood the matter the next half-hour was a period of extreme anxiety. But it was hard- ly over before the captain's clear voice was heard, amid the roaring of the storm, giving his orders to the helmsman with as much confidence as if he had been on his own native coast. He had descried the light-house at a distance of about half a mile — the first object we had seen, excepting a few vessels which crossed our path, since we lost sight of the Desertas. He was now at home. He had so thoroughly mastered his chart that he knew the bearings of all the shoals and break- ers which lie at the mouth of the harbor from the light- house, and he remained in the foretop until we had passed them all, directing the motions of the vessel with perfect calmness and coiifidence. It was certainly no small triumph of nautical skill on the part of our Yankee captain. lie had sailed nearly six hundred miles, and had hit the light-house at the mouth of the harbor to which he was destined within fif- teen minutes after his reckoning was up. It must be con- fessed, too, that there was some good-luck in it. But his sul> sequent management of the vessel, steering her through break- ers and reefs of rocks without the aid of a pilot, w^as all skill and good judgment." It would be diflScult to speak too warmly of the pleasure 1842-1844.] THE FAMILY LAND AT CADIZ. 179 ire derived from our glimpse of Spain. Landing at tlie wliite- walled Cadiz, we spent some days enjoying the novel sights of that city ; now strolling about the streets, where the beau- tiful, dark-eyed women, with their mantillas about their jet- black hair, flitted gracefully to and fro, and often stopped to admire and kiss our bright, curly-headed Charley, as though he were an angel in the midst of the brunette monotony ; now penetrating into the faintly perfumed chapel of some religious house in quest of notable pictures ; now looking at the port, filled with ships of manifold rigs, among which plied the boats of the deft Spanish oarsmen. And then one day we took the steamer, and, having crossed to the other side of the bay, went up the Guadalquiver, following its numberless turns and bends, till we saw the Golden Tower of Seville in the distance, and the vast pile of the Cathedral, with its crested Giralda, looming over the orange groves. In that city we spent several days, including the Holy Week ; and we looked with wonder on the processions and pageants, which recalled the mediseval Mysteries, as angels and arch- angels, saints and martyrs. Virgins and doctors swept by, mounted on great cars drawn by handsome horses, and es- corted by thousands of troops of the line, whose military bands filled the air with music. And at the dead of night we listened to the big bell of the Cathedral, whose tone, like low thunder, is heard but two or three times in the year, when Holy Church is keeping up the memory of some great act in the suffering life of the Redeemer of men. We heard them sing the Miserere in the Cathedral, and High Mass on Easter ; and then we went to see the bull fights at the amphi- theatre, ■which holds 20,000 spectators. But that which gave us most joy was the sight of the treasures of art in that shrine of Spanish painting — tlie works of Valdes, Zurbaran, Velas- quez, and Roelas, and the solemn splendors of the Carmen, where the canvases of Murillo display the histories of the old and new dispensations, and seem themselves like miracles of reliffious devotion and technical skill. I remember noth- !: i 'I lii^ 180 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS mX. n i n ing more impressive since tliat day; nor shall I ever again enjoy such sensations as those awakened by the siglit of that lordly wealth, iinrivalled save in Venice, and breathing of the very awe and majesty of religion ; for surely, if there be religion in art, it is to be seen at its height in the work of the Spanish School. From these glories we turned reluctantly away, and, de- scending the river, went back to Cadiz ; and thence by steam- er to Gibraltar, where we saw the Union Jack flying in the breeze, and the red-coated sentries pacing tho rocky platform, and heard the beat of the British drums and the shrill music of the fife ; and walked through the galleries in the rock, and drove across the Xeutral Ground to get a distant view of the great lion -like rampart of the Straits. A Spanish steamer then took us up and carried us along the coast. Every day we landed at some new town : at Malaga, Almeria, and Agui- las ; at Cartagena, Alicante, and Valencia ; at Barcelona, on which the guns frowned from Monjuich ; and so along the Mediterranean to Leghorn, and then to Pisa and Florence. It was a journey to be long remembered, standing clearly on the horizon of the far-away. The General spent the summer of 1843 in a villa outside the walls of Florence. It belonged to the Marquis d'Elci, and had all the requisites for one of Mrs. Henry Wood's romances. It was quadrangular, enclosing a paved court : three sides of the structure constituted the residence, while the fourth was a thick wall, pierced by a great gate, and broad enough for a passage-way along the top from wing to wing. There were suites of rooms enough for lialf a dozen families ; and an immense hall, which we called the ball-room. The floors above and below were of brick, and the sleeping apart- ments had great high - i>ost bedsteads, with awful hangings ; and on the walls hung full-length pictures of nobles, soldiers, priest&j and nuns. Then there was a chapel, in which from time to time Mass wus sung; and once during the summer the peasantry came thither to keep a fete, and the floor was 1842-1844.] DEMISE OF A DEAR FRIEND. 181 les ii-s, lorn pier Ivas made into a rich mosaic of many-colored leaves of roses and other flowers, and it was a great gala of costumes, banners, in- cense, and song. I had a room, or rather a suite of rooms, in the upper story ; from the windows I could trace the wind- ings of the Arno down the rich valley between dark -blue hills ; and I remember how, when the moon was setting, and a little owl would come and sit over my window and cry in doleful tone, I used to wish myself anywhere else, and did not like the look of the tall pictures surveying me in the dim light, nor the rustle of the tapestries about the bed. In the end of the summer a dear friend of my mother's died there, in the apartment adjoining mine. She was the daughter of Captain James Lawrence, who fell fighting his ship, the Chesa- peake, against the British frigate Shannon. Mary Lawrence was with my mother at Miss Desabaye's school in New York. She afterward married Mr. William Preston Griffin, of the Navy. We met them on the way to Italy, and persuaded them to go with us to Florence for the summer. She died in child-bed at the villa, September 3. It was like the falling of a sudden night about our path. After that 1 went to another part of the villa, for the associations of that side of the court- yard were too painful to be borne. Indeed, the rumor was that the English doctor had brought her death about by bad treatment ; and it was whispered among the contadlne that " the American signora who was murdered at the Villa d'Elci walked at night." Tuscany was then a grand-dukedom ; Leopold II. its mild and popular ruler. The summer residence was close by us. We often met the Grand -duke taking his afternoon walk, with his wife and children, under the cypresses, or through the vine-bordered roads of the country, with no more state than any honest citizen. Of all these things my father has written in the volume al- ready referred to : of the Duomo and Giotto's tower, of the bridges and the Cascine, of Fiesole and the Apennines, of the manners of the people .and their mode of life ; of the chariot- H- ; I ' C I 182 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. races in the ancient Roman style in the great Piazza on the eve of St. John's-day, and the festa and fireworks and races of barbs on St. Peter's -day, and the Ilaydn music at the PaLizzo Vecchio. From Florence we went to Home, where we spent the fol- lowing winter, that of IS-AS-'M. There is little worth noting in the domestic annals of those months ; they passed quietly and happily, in the society of friends who, like ourselves, were far from home ; in reading and study in connection with daily visits to the wonders of the old and new cities ; and in at- tendance at the magnificent services at St. Peter's and other churches. ^Ve saw a great deal of the artists of that period, among whom was James E. Freeman, whose merit my father had discovered . ome years before, when they met at Albany, and in whose progress in his art he took a deep interest as long as he lived. Home was then the Rome of the Pontiffs and of a past age ; Gregory XVI. occupied the Papal throne ; the era of radical change seemed far away. By the side of the yellow Tiber the city and its inhabitants dozed and dreamed ; and no dreamy life w%as ever more delicious than that Avliich they led who, in their wanderings, found themselves within the venerable walls. Twelve years afterward we were there again. Many changes had come ; others were imminent ; the French were holding the city and protecting the Supreme Pontiff from the storm outside. Since that day how wonder- fully has everything changed ! What is the Rome of 1881 to those who remember the Rome of 1843? Leaving tlie Eternal City on the 2Gth of March, tlie General took us to Naples, where he distinguished himself by a fool- hardy performance. Vesuvius was in partial eruption. AVc ascend '^'1 the mountain to see what could be seen. The crater looked liki a hollow bowl sunken about one hundred feet below the rocky ledges on which we stood ; from side to side beneath stretched a smooth layer of hardened lava, hot enough to scorch the soles of the boots. In the centre of that plain was a cone, rising to the level of the sides of the mountain, 1842-1844.] TEMEBITT ON MOUNT VESUVIUS. 183 and liaving three or four apertures at the summit, out of which came fire, with showers of stones. As these were shot forth the cone shook to its base. Tlie General insisted on descending into the crater, attended by one of the guides, whom he bade to lead on as far as lie dared to go. The guide accordingly led him down, step by step, and rapidly, across the field and to the very foot of the cone, where he stopped, refusing to go farther. But the General, grasping his climb- ing-staff, mounted to the top of the cone, and actually poked his stick into one of the open vents — looking up, when red- hot stones flew out, to dodge them as they fell. lie did not defend these proceedings in after -years, but agreed with us that they ore preposterous. Still, they were characteristic of his cr less and love of adventure. From j>raples we went by steamer to Marseilles, and thence through France to Paris. The journey was, in some respects, very characteristic, our route being througli Aries, Avignon, and Givors, and by Iloaime and Cosne, on the river Loire, to Orleans. AVe travelled part of the way on a railroad M'hich was one of the first constructed in the kingdom ; and, as the engineers proceeded on the theory that, as a straight line is the shortest distance between two points, so the simplest way to build a railroad was to carry it straight along, no matter what stood in the way, this particular road, passing through a hilly country, was little better than an interminable succes- sion of tunnels, connected by brief ventilation in the open air. On the river Loire we journeyed in a strange kind of steamer, of immense lengtli, very narrow, and drawing very little water. The whole line had a common name — the Ineicplosihhs — numbered 1, 2, 3, etc. AVhcnever the Inex- plosihh JVo. 4, our noble craft, grounded on the shoals of the river — which happened every hour or so — the sailors jumped overboard — the water being not quite up to their knees — and shoved her along, to the delight of the voy- agers. In those days there was a justly celebrated line of Havre i 184 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS VIX. packets, delightful ships, roomy and comfortable, with good captains and crews, and everything needed for the happiness of the passengers on their four weeks' voyage. We embarked in one of those ships, the Iowa, on May 8, 1844. To cross the "Western Ocean was no light affair in those days. The traveller had a taste of real sea life ; and the restless and ex- citable voyager of our time, whose highest ambition is to dash at break-neck speed from Navesink to Fastnet in seven days, is not altogether the enviable being he deems himself in con- trast with the old-fashioned tourist. Though our innumer- able and insatiate excursionists have gained in time, they have lost in other things : in the pleasure of quiet, dreamy days on shipboard, in delightful companionships, in some knowledge of the seaman's craft, and the subtler phenomena of wind and wave, sky and cloud, tides and currents, calm and storm. Each of those white-winged ships was a school, each voyage a course of study; and many and precious were the lessons learned during the four weeks spent at sea. )od ess red OSS 'lie BX- ish )n- er- ve on ge ad m. ?e ns VI. UNITED STATES SENATE. A..D. 1845-1833. New York Politics. — Barnburners and Hunkers. — Abolitionism. — Silas Wright. — Canvass of 1844. — 1845: Elected Senator of the United States. — Annexation of Texas. — First Speech in the Senate, on the Oregon Question. — Speech on French Spoliations. — Speech on the Warehouse Bill. — Declines the Mission to England. — Speech on the Lieutenant-general Bill. — The War with IVIexico. — Speech on the Three Million Bill. — Extension of Slavery. — Battle of Buena Vista. — Letters of Major II. S. Dix. — Speech on European Intervention. — Slavery in the Territories. — Anti-rentism in New York. — Defeat of Governor Wright. — His Death. — Political Credo of General Dix. — Free-soil Movement of 1848. — East Hampton. — Climate of Long Island. — Sporting. — Nomination for Governor. — Defeat of Free-soilers. — Last Speech in the Senate. — Port Chester. — Death of John J. Morgan. — Manursing Island. — 1852: Death of Baldwin Dix. — Reunion of tlie Democratic Party. — Baltimore Convention. — Election of Franklin Pierce. — The Mission to France. 1845-1853.] THE CALDRON OF NEW YORK POLITICS. 187 VI. With the return from Europe came a change from tranquil- lity to confusiori, from the quiet pleasures of foreign travel to the caldron of New York politics, then bubbling and seething more furiously than ever. The Democratic party, hard pushed by its enemies, was divided into sections, which grew daily more hostile in their attitude. To these schools the grotesque names of " Barnburners " and " Old Hunkers " were applied : they might have been more philosophically described as Radi- cals and Conservatives. Nearly equal in numbers, they dif- fered on many points, and, first, on questions of finance and State government. The Barnburners were the party of strict economy ; abhorring debt, they insisted that provision ought to be made for paying the interest on State loans by taxa- tion before pledging the credit of the State ; they were sus- picious of banks, believed in hard-money, and adhered to the financial policy of President Yan Buren. The Old Hunkers, on the other hand, appear to have held easier views on all these points ; speculative, and ready to take risks, they were lax where the Barnburners were severe.* But now another * A very high authority, in reply to an inquiry as to the origin of the names of those sections of the Democratic party, wrote to me as follows : "My impression is that the factious known as Barnburners and Old Hunkers grew out of the early insinuations of the slavery question into general politics. The Old Hunkers were opposed to any discussion of the subject, as likely to destroy the harmony of "the party;" and the Barnburners were in favor of treating it like all other questions of pub- lic interest. The significance of the names, if I apprehend them rightly, was, that the one kept at home, or to their hunk, never knowing what was going on in the world; and that the other was willing to bum down the entire barn to get rid of a few rats." 188 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX, ) \ question was troubling tlio camp, and threatening to make tlic family quarrel much more acrimonious. The problem of slavery had been forever settled, as -was fondly supposed, by the " Missouri Comproniise," in 1820 ; it was now re-opened, and in a way to become more complicated than before. For this certain persons, known as Abolitionists, were mainly responsible. The views of the earliest Abolitionists were moderate com- pared with those of the men to whom that title became subse- quently restricted. In time a division took place in the body, resulting in the formation of a radical Abolition party, includ- ing such men as Gerritt Smith and William Lloyd Garrison. These extremists were, theoretically, the iirst Secessionists : they resigned office under the government, and refused there- after either to hold office, or even to vote ; they regarded the Constitution of the United States as a compact with Satan, would have nothing to do with public affairs, and preferred a rupture of the Union to living under a system which toler- ated slavery and protected slave-holders. The moderate Abo- litionists stopped short of those extremes : they continued to vote, did not refuse office, and were known as the " Liberty party ;" they nominated candidates of their own as such, and were not unwilling to work with any other party in the coun- try, North or South, for the attainment of their ends. The distinction between the moderate and ultra Abolitionists is important. Whoii I speak of " Abolitionists " hereafter I re- fer to those of the latter class, the followers of Garrison and Smith, and not to the " Liberty party," which supported James G. Birney for President in 1810 and 1811. No one can justly blame the people of the South for their anxiety and indignation at the progress of the Abolition movement. Its ultimate aim was to overthrow that social compact under which the free and slave-holding States %vere united under a common Constitution, while the actual inva- sion of the right of the Southerner to his property was so flagrant as to lead him to demand redress for wrongs already 1845-1853.] SILAS WIIIGET A COXSPICUOUS FlGUIiE. 189 sustained and guarantees for tlie futurq. Out of all this it was inevitable that new issues must arise, with complicated and dangerous positions. The Democratic party recognized and respected the rights of the South under the Constitution of the United States ; yet it was easy to see that questions might come up on which men, though all alike friendly to the South, would feel at a loss what to say, and might bo driven to take opposite sides. No figure of that era is more conspicuous than that of Silas Wright, Senator of the United States, and Governor of the State of New York. To those who form their ideal of the patriot by study of the classical models of ancient Homo lie must be one of the most charming figures of our liistory — a true Cineinnatus ; an image of pristine simplicity and integ- rity. Mr. Wright was one of my father's warmest friends, and the object of his sincere admiration and devoted attach- ment — a man after his own heart. A few words with ref- erence to this great statesman and illustrious citizen. Silas Wright was born at Amherst, Mass., in the year 1795, being three yeai*s my father's senior ; he was brought up in Vermont, amid the green hills, and was graduated at .Middle- bury College in 1815. His family was a humble one, and it is even asserted that his father was without education. They were intense lovers of their country, and his father and one of his brothers were soldiers in the war of 1812. The son Sihia received a literary training through the self-denial of his peo- ple, who desired to give that advantage to at least one of their liouse. In the year 1819 he settled in Canton, St. Lawrence County, in the State of New York, and began the practice of the law. There, subsequently, he married ; thither he re- treated from the cares of public life whenever a breathiug- spell was given him ; there, in the spring immediately suc- ceeding his defeat when nominated a second time for Gov- ernor of the State of New York, he might have been seen driving his team afield and w'ping the sweat from his brow, like a noble Roman of the sterling stamp ; and there, Au- 190 ME Mollis OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. gust 27, 1847, lie rcHijifned his soul to God, Icaviiifij no blot on his name, and mourned in silonco by men who hardly knew till then what manner of person it was whom the land had lost. Mr. Wright's political career began about the year 1820; in 1827 he was sent to Congress. His popularity among his towns-people was immense ; his success was striking. An op- ponent of Governor Clinton, and a supporter of Mr. Crawford for the Presidency, he espoubcd the cause of General Jackson in the year 1828, and thereupon became associated with Mr. Van Buren and my father in the political movements in which they were engaged subsequently to that date. Having ably filled the office of Comptroller of the State from 1829 to 1832, he was elected, with little or no ojiposition, to the United States Senate, and took his seat there January 14, 1833. It may be truly said that " there were giants in the earth in those days." A writer, speaking of the statesmen among whom Mr. Wright was thus called to take his place, and with whom ho contended for the honors acquired in his Senatorial career, enumerates — "... The gallant and chivalrous Clay, captivating the heart and enchaining the imagination by the magic bursts of his thrilling eloquence ; Calhoun, the fearless champion of the sovereignty of the States, with his chaste diction and ana- lytical mind, every sentence that he uttered a whole chapter of argument, and every word a political text ; Webster, calm, profound, and argumentative, powerful in stature and gigan- tic in mind ; the smooth and plausible Clayton ; and Preston, fervid and impassioned as the rays of the Southern sun which had warmed his genius into life. On the opposite side there was Benton, industrious, determined, and unyielding, with his pockets overflowing with statistics, and his head full of his- torical lore ; Forsyth, easy and graceful in his address, but an able and experienced debater ; Rives, the eloquent and talent- ed Senator from the Old Dominion, seeking to give vent to the inspiration he had caught in the groves of Monticello; 1845-1853.] A COMMUNITY OF VIEWS. 191 White, with liifl metaphysical and Bontentions apophthogtna ; and tlio shrewd and cautious (rrundy, familiar witli ])arlia- mentary tactics, watcliiiig for the weak points in his adver- sary's ary me during my connection with jniblic affairs. This collec- tion, designed chief y to mal'e those who are to come after us acquainted loith the part I have home in the national movement during a quarter of a centwi-y of extraordinary activity and excitement, I dedicate to you, as an imperfect acknowledgment of the intelligent and devoted co-operation which you have lent vie in all the vicissitudes and labor's of my life.'''' 196 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ADAMS DIX. I shall liavc occasion to refer to this volume in giving an account of the years spent at Washington, from December 1, 1844, till March 4, 1849. The bill for the annexation of Texas came before the Sen- ate soon after General Dix had taken his seat in that body. It passed the House of Ilepresentatives January 25, 1845, by a vote of 120 to 98, and the Senate by a vote of 27 to 25, February 27. General Dix was one of those who voted for the bill. His action was sharply criticised at the time ; and he wrote to a friend, five years afterward, that he intended to give a full explanation of his reasons for the vote. I have not been able to find the paper refeiTcd to, if it was ever drafted ; but I shall give, by-and-by, the reasons for my belief that the charge of inconsistency based on his course at that time can- not be sustained. For the present let it be remembered that slavery was in existence in Texas, and formed a part of the political system of that country, before the question of annex- ation came before Congress, and that it lay south of the line fixed in 1821 as that which was to constitute thenceforth the dividing line between the slaveholding and non-slaveholding population. General Dix made his first speech 'n the Senate February 18 and 19, 1846, on the Oregon question, then before Con- gress. The territory on the north-west coast of America, west of the Rocky Mountains, known as Oregon, and long in dis- pute between the United States and Great Britain, was, by a convention between the two countries, concluded October 20, 1818, made free to the vessels, citizens, and subjects of both for the period of ten years. This agreement was continued in force and indefinitely extended by a convention of August 26, 1827. In consequence of collisions between the people of the two countries within the disputed territory, resolu- tions were introduced into the Senate in February, 1846, requiring the President to give notice of tl.