“Mrs. President”: a story of political and personal liberation
In early July, our visit to the Adams National Historical Park encompassed tours of John and John Quincy Adams’ birthplaces, as well as "Peacefield", the Adams family home to 4 generations, with the intention of presenting a story about the 2 presidents. What evolved out of that trip, however, was something quite different, as it was Abigail, wife and mother to the 2 presidents, who emerged, front and center, out of the shadows.
Regardless of what side of the aisle you endorse politically, something historic occurred on July 26, 2016 and it took 228 years to unfold—the nomination of a woman for President of the United States by a major political party. It’s not that women haven’t tried before, in fact, Victoria Woodhall ran for president in 1872, followed by 23 other women from various political tickets over the last 144 years, each vying for that elusive nomination. But long before them, before we were even recognized as a sovereign nation, women in America were keenly aware of the limitations placed upon them by virtue of their gender. Women like Abigail Adams who famously wrote to her husband, John Adams, during the first Continental Congress of 1776 to “remember the ladies”. She urged her husband to take advantage of the opportunity to include women in the framework of America’s independence from Great Britain, and warned of an eventual uprising if certain concerns were ignored. Neither he, nor Congress acceded. Image: Victoria Claflin Woodhull, 1860s, Bradley & Rulofson, 429 Montgomery Street, San Fancisco—courtesy: Harvard Art Museum/Fogg Museum, Historical Photographs and Special Visual Collections Department, Fine Arts Library.
Abigail Adams (nee Smith) was born on Nov. 22 in Weymouth, MA, 272 years ago to a prosperous and politically connected family. Yet, despite the privileges she possessed thereof, she was denied, like the rest of her sex, certain rights the male population enjoyed. Her brilliant and clever mind, however, led her to always find ways in which to sidestep those imposed restrictions. For instance, until the end of the 18th century girls were not allowed to attend New England town (public) schools, but Abigail availed herself of her father’s extensive personal library, which encompassed many topics, including literature, religion, philosophy, history, and science (she is considered one of the most well-read women of 18th century America). She deeply regretted her lack of formal schooling and advocated for equal public education and women’s rights her entire life.
Image: birthplace of Abigail Adams, Weymouth, MA, courtesy of Michelle McGrath.
She was raised to serve others. Her prosperous and intelligent father, William Smith, was an influential Congregational minister, who along with his wife, Elizabeth Quincy, taught their children that their good fortune obliged them to reach out to those in need, thus, planting the seed of public service—a notion that remained operative in Abigail’s long life. Conversely, her father owned several slaves, who obtained their freedom only upon his death in 1783. Despite this, she was not swayed from her firmly held anti-slavery views, and believed that slavery threatened the very underpinnings of democracy. To that end, according to Robert Shimp, a Park Guide at the Adams National Historic Park, one of William Smith’s slaves, Phoebe Abdee, “would go on to have an inextricable bond with Abigail for the rest of her life, working for the family, serving as a tenant on their property, housing displaced African-Americans, and generally being a central figure in the Adams narrative through her death in the fall of 1812”. Image: Rev. William Smith, Jr., Google Images, source unknown.
Abigail Smith and John Adams knew each other from childhood—in fact, they were third cousins. It wasn’t until he visited the Smith home, though, in 1762, that he took notice of the diminutive 17 year old. Impressed by the scope of her intellect, he even considered her to be his equal—radical thinking for that day and age. Just 2 years later they were married by Abigail’s father on Oct. 25, at her childhood home in Weymouth. Departing the ceremony together on a single horse, they headed to Braintree, to a small house and farm John had inherited from his father, and that sat adjacent to the house in which he had been born. It was here that they would begin their long and fruitful 54 year marriage, which would produce 6 children, long separations, and a correspondence that chronicled the trials and joys of being married to each other—during the time he was away from her for both the Continental Congress, and as a diplomat in Europe (about 11 years), more than a 1,000 letters were exchanged between them. She often began her letters with “My Dear Friend”, and he with “Miss Adorable”. Image: John Adams, circa 1766, pastel on paper, Benjamin Blyth (American, 1746-1811), courtesy of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Boston, MA.
Through her place of origin and marriage to John, Abigail directly experienced the birth of our nation. From the Boston Massacre to the Declaration of Independence to her role as First Lady, both she and John helped usher in the monumental and near impossible feat of establishing the new republic. In her own sagacious way she made for herself “a place at the table” that would, to a large degree, satisfy her independent mind without threatening (at least not to her great detriment) the balance of the strict social mores of her time. Images: Abigail Adams, circa 1766, pastel on paper, Benjamin Blyth (American, 1746-1811), courtesy of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Boston, MA.
But before those dramatic days unfolded, Abigail was tasked with running both the household and family farm, while raising and educating their children. Often on her own due to John’s constant absences as a circuit judge, she even managed their finances, a responsibility that was traditionally fulfilled by the husband. She proved herself to be capable and resourceful in all aspects. Image: birthplace Homes of John and John Quincy Adams, engraving, attributed to Stephen Alonzo Schoff (American, 1818-1904), courtesy of the Library of Congress.
During the trial for the Boston Massacre in 1770 the family lived in the city while John headed the British soldiers’ defense. While violent mobs roamed the streets of Boston, the Adams family found themselves in a perilous position, leaving Abigail, through long days and nights, at home alone with her young family. It was a time of growing unrest, and by 1773, she began to comment on politics for the first time following the Boston Tea Party. For the next 10 years, between 1774 and 1784, John traveled both domestically and abroad in various diplomatic capacities for Congress. During these years, Abigail’s letters to him reveal what life was like on the home front during the American Revolution: she spontaneously provided food and lodging to soldiers as they passed by her home, melted metal utensils into musket balls, and conveyed intelligence she obtained from both Patriot and Loyalist; curious by nature, she acted as a kind of spy for the Revolution. She would keep an ear to the ground and then report to John what she had learned concerning the maneuvering on both sides of the conflict. John prized her instincts and intuition. Image: "The Bloody Massacre perpetrated in King-Street, March 5, 1770", engraving (hand colored), Paul Revere (American, 1733-1818), courtesy of the Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History, New York, New York.
An official appointment by the Massachusetts Colony General Court followed in 1775, which authorized her “to question her fellow Massachusetts women who were charged by their word or action of remaining loyal to the British crown and working against the independence movement”. If one leaned toward the Tory side of the matter this could be construed as a sort of bullying or even “Big Sister” behavior on Abigail’s part. Image: "Join or Die", 1754, woodcut, Benjamin Franklin (American, 1706-1790), published in the Pennsylvania Gazette, May 9, 1754.
After the war, with peace and independence established for the new republic, Abigail left behind her home and children in 1784, and embarked upon a 6-week crossing of the Atlantic to join her husband in Europe, first in France where he was serving as a diplomat, followed by England where he was appointed as the 1st American minister to the Court of St. James between 1785—1788. During these years, the Adamses met and entertained many influential people in both countries, and were exposed to cultures sometimes vastly different from their own. By the time they returned to Braintree in 1788, Abigail wanted a grander home as she had become accustomed to a more elegant lifestyle while abroad. Image: John Adams, 1783, Oil on canvas, John Singleton Copley (American, 1738 - 1815), courtesy of Harvard Art Museum.
“Peacefield” was a house built in Braintree, in 1731 by Leonard Vassall, a Jamaica-born sugar planter who owned several large plantations there along with many slaves. The Adamses acquired the property in 1784 when it became available after the Vassall family, who were Loyalists, fled Massachusetts during the war. Having purchased it while in England, Abigail, upon returning home, was dismayed by its size; she recalled it being much larger, but, time and her regal lifestyle left her underwhelmed, and she disparagingly referred to it as a “wren’s nest”.
Their pullback from public life would not last long as opportunity called John back into political service. Over the next 12 years, while he was in office as the first US Vice-President (1790—1797), and then President (1797—1801), Abigail expanded “Peacefield” to accommodate the many influential people they would entertain there, improving its floorplan and comforts. The accompanying 40 acres was cultivated as a working farm, which included livestock, gardens, and an orchard. Ever the business woman, she managed the farm and household with great aplomb, writing to John: “I hope in time to have the Reputation of being as good a Farmeress as my partner has of being a good Statesman.” Image: Official Presidential Portrait of John Adams, circa 1792-3, oil on canvas, John Trumbull (1756-1843), The White House (Blue Room).
During these years, Abigail was, once again, burdened with travelling between their home in Braintree and the consecutive political residences in New York, Philadelphia and Washington, DC. Right from the start, John’s presidency was in dire straits as party lines were drawn, including inside his own cabinet, with his good friend and Vice President, Thomas Jefferson, leading the opposition. John wrote to Abigail "I never wanted your advice and assistance more in my life." Image: Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, courtesy of the Massachusetts Historical Society.
Abigail rushed to Philadelphia to be with John and begin fulfilling her role as First Lady. With only Martha Washington’s example to follow (one she opined she could hardly measure up to), she helped define and expand what those duties encompassed. She was an astute and engaging hostess, creating opportunities to promote her husband and his policies within both political and social arenas. She kept up a grueling schedule of visiting and entertaining while running their presidential household along with the home back north. Image: Residence of Washington in High Street, Philada., circa 1828-30, lithograph, William L. Breton (American, 1773 – 1855), published in John Fanning Watson, Annals of Philadelphia (1830), opp. p. 361 (based on Watson’s own sketches).
As it was no secret that Abigail had a strong influence over her husband and powerful sway among his supporters, John Adams’s opponents maliciously referred to her as “Mrs. President”. In reality, husband and wife often disagreed over various political points. The President, though, understood that it was she who pulled him back from his dark moods, checked his air of arrogance and superiority that often alienated him from people in general (he believed he was the smartest man in the room and in many cases he was!), and implored the better angels of his soul to manage his strong, and at times, intractable convictions. In short, she was a brilliant partner who understood John better than anyone and knew how to extract his greatness. Likewise, she wholly embraced her unique status, and at times surprised herself. While on a return trip to Quincy she stopped by a Federal army encampment in New Jersey where she both inspected and viewed the troops, later confessing to John in a letter that she had “acted as your proxy”. Image: Abigail Adams, 1785, oil on canvas, Mather Brown (American, 1761-1831).
However, Abigail’s political influence may have, in part, ultimately cost John re-election. The Alien and Sedition Acts were signed into law on June 18, 1798. These 4 pieces of legislation gave the president broad power over who got in, stayed, and/or became an American citizen. Furthermore, the Sedition Act was considered by many as a thinly veiled attempt to control the press—an assault on the 1st Amendment. The legislation was directly aimed at newspapers and publishers critical of Adams and his administration. Abigail, who regarded John’s detractors as unbearably vile, enthusiastically supported the Sedition Act, and urged the president to sign it into legislation. Jefferson and his party cried despotism, and on Feb. 17, 1801 won control of the presidency and Congress after what is considered one of the most contentious election campaigns in US history. This political cartoon features a brawl between Matthew Lyon and Roger Griswold, in the House of Representatives. Lyon was the first person to be imprisoned under the Sedition Act for criticizing President Adams on the floor of the House. Political cartoon of Lyon (holding tongs) brawling with Roger Griswold, courtesy of the Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division. American Cartoon Prints Collection.
But before the election, on Nov. 1, 1800, John moved into the “President’s House” (later to be named The White House), followed by Abigail who arrived a month later. Largely unfinished, The White House proved to be a challenge for the Adamses, as it was particularly cold and drafty that first winter. Abigail mentioned in a letter to a friend that she had to hang their laundry in an “audience room” (the East Room) to dry. By March 1801, they moved out so Jefferson could move in. Image: Servant Hanging Laundry, 1966, Gordon Phillips, image courtesy of the White House Historical Association.
Abigail was ready to leave their political life behind. In a letter she wrote to her son on Nov. 13, 1800 she resolved: “The consequence to us, personally, is, that we retire from public life. For myself…I have few regrets. At my age, and with my bodily infirmities, I shall be happier at Quincy. Neither my habits, nor my education, or inclinations have led me to an expensive style of living, so that on that score I have little to mourn over. If I did not rise with dignity, I can at least fall with ease, which is the more difficult task…I feel not any resentment against those who are coming into power… ”. Image: Official Presidential Portrait of Thomas Jefferson, 1800, oil on canvas, Rembrandt Peale (American, 1778 –1860), The White House (Cabinet Room).
In March of 1801 they retired to “Peacefield”, where for the next 17 years, both she and John returned to what they began as: farmers. After having undertaken an extraordinary adventure she was finally together with her husband as she had always longed to be.
Image: "Peacefield", home of the Adams family for
Content to resume her chores on their farm, she enjoyed visits from their family, and continued corresponding with her many friends. She, also, proved to be a tremendous support to her son as his political career unfolded. Although she did not live to see John Quincy become the nation’s 6th president in 1825, she prepared him for what life would be like in the political realm. Official Presidential Portrait of John Quincy Adams, 1818, oil on canvas, Gilbert Stuart (American, 1755-1828), The White House.
Abigail succumbed to typhoid fever on Oct. 28, 1818, just 14 days before her 74th birthday. She had outlived all but 2 of her six children. She is interred in a crypt at the United First Parish Church in Quincy, flanked by her beloved husband and cherished son, along with his wife—2 presidents and 2 first ladies. Image: the Adams crypt, left to right, John Adams, Abigail Adams, John Quincy Adams, and Louisa (Johnson) Adams.
As of this posting, we have yet to know if a woman will occupy the Oval Office, but what the past reveals to us, in no uncertain terms, is that the road to this moment has been paved with great sacrifice, intelligence, wit, dedication, ambition, and above all, determination. Abigail Adams possessed all of these qualities. It’s not a stretch to imagine that if born to our generation she would be a likely candidate for president; forward-thinking, flawed, irrepressible, she belonged as much to her times then as she does now to ours. But alas, her legacy is that of a Founding Mother, and her place persists, high up, in the annals of both American and women’s history. Image: Abigail Smith Adams (Mrs. John Adams), circa 1800-1815, oil on canvas, Gilbert Stuart, 1755-1828 oil on canvas, courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution.
About the images: the photos herein are credited to Tankful Travels unless otherwise noted. Tankful Travels makes every effort to adhere to identification, citation and attribution best practices for the images that appear in our posts. If you find discrepancies or broader information than we have provided please contact us via email.