Life and Public Services of John Quincy Adams, William H. Seward [e manga reader .txt] 📗

at a time, the united strength of Messrs. Grinnell, Munroe, Profit, and Hoffman. Still Mr. Adams uttered not a murmur, though the great drops of sweat that rolled down his furrowed cheeks, or stood upon his brow, told but too well the physical agony he endured. As soon as his arm was adjusted, he insisted on being carried home, and his wishes were complied with.

"The next morning I was at the capitol at a very early hour, attending to some writing. I thought of, and lamented the accident that had befallen Mr. Adams, and had already commenced writing an account of it to a correspondent. At that instant I withdrew my eyes from the paper on which I was writing, and saw Mr. Adams standing a foot or two from me, carefully examining the carpeting. 'Sir,' said he, 'I am looking for that place in the matting that last night tripped me. If it be not fastened down, it may kill some one.' And then he continued his search for the trick-string matting."

Mr. Adams after this accident did not enjoy as sound health as in previous years, yet was more active and vigorous than the majority of those who attain to his age. But on the 20th of November, 1846, he experienced the first blow of the fatal disease which eventually terminated his existence.

On the morning of that day, while sojourning at the residence of his son, in Boston, preparing to depart for Washington, he was walking out with a friend to visit a new Medical College, and was struck with paralysis by the way. This affliction confined him several weeks, when he obtained sufficient strength to proceed to Washington, and enter upon his duties in the House of Representatives. He viewed this attack as the touch of death. An interregnum of nearly four months occurs in his journal. The next entry is under the head of "Posthumous Memoir." After describing his recent sickness, he continues: - "From that hour I date my decease, and consider myself, for every useful purpose, to myself and fellow-creatures, dead; and hence I call this, and what I may hereafter write, a posthumous memoir."

Although he was after this, regular in his attendance at the House of Representatives, yet he did not mingle as freely in debate as formerly. He passed the following summer, as usual, at his seat in Quincy. In November, he left his native town for Washington, to return no more in life!

On Sunday, the 20th of February, 1848, he appeared in unusual health. In the forenoon he attended public worship at the capitol, and in the afternoon at St. John's church. At nine o'clock in the evening he retired with his wife to his library, where she read to him a sermon of Bishop Wilberforce, on Time - "hovering, as he was, on the verge of eternity!" This was the last night he passed beneath his own roof.

Monday, the 21st, he rose at his usual very early hour, and engaged in his accustomed occupations with his pen. An extraordinary alacrity pervaded his movements, and the cheerful step with which he ascended the steps of the capitol was remarked by his attendants. He occupied a portion of the forenoon in composing a few stanzas of poetry, at the request of a friend, and had signed his name twice for members who desired to obtain his autograph.

Mr. Chase had introduced a resolution of thanks to Generals Twiggs, Worth, Quitman, Pillow, Shields, Pearce, Cadwalader, and Smith, for their services in the Mexican war, and awarding them gold medals. Mr. Adams was in his seat, and voted on the two questions preliminary to ordering its engrossment, with an uncommonly emphatic tone of voice. About half past one o'clock, P. M., as the Speaker had risen to put another question to the House, the proceedings were suddenly interrupted by cries of "Stop! - stop! - Mr. Adams!" There was a quick movement towards the chair of Mr. Adams, by two or three members, and in a moment he was surrounded by a large number of Representatives, eagerly inquiring - "What's the matter?" - "Has he fainted?" - "Is he dead?" JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, while faithful at his post, and apparently about to rise to address the Speaker, had sunk into a state of unconsciousness! He had been struck a second time with paralysis. The scene was one of intense excitement. Pallor, anxiety, alarm, were depicted on every countenance. "Take him out," - "Bring water," - exclaimed several voices. He had been prevented from falling to the floor by a member from Ohio, whose seat was near his - Mr. Fisher - who received him in his arms. Immediately Mr. Grinnell, one of his colleagues from Massachusetts, was by his side, keeping off a press of anxious friends, and bathing his face with iced water.

"He was immediately lifted into the area in front of the Clerk's table. The Speaker instantly suggested that some gentleman move an adjournment, which being promptly done, the House adjourned. A sofa was brought, and Mr. Adams, in a state of perfect helplessness, though not of entire insensibility, was gently laid upon it. The sofa was then taken up and borne out of the Hall into the Rotunda, where it was set down, and the members of both Houses, and strangers, who were fast crowding around, were with some difficulty repressed, and an open space cleared in its immediate vicinity; but a medical gentleman, a member of the House, (who was prompt, active, and self-possessed throughout the whole painful scene,) advised that he be removed to the door of the Rotunda opening on the east portico, where a fresh wind was blowing. This was done; but the air being chilly and loaded with vapor, the sofa was, at the suggestion of Mr. Winthrop, once more taken up and removed to the Speaker's apartment, the doors of which were forthwith closed to all but professional gentlemen and particular friends."

The features of the dying patriarch were almost as rigid as though in death: but there was a serenity in his countenance which betokened an absence of pain. There were five physicians, members of the House, present, viz.: - Drs. Newell, Fries, Edwards, Jones of Georgia, and Lord. These gentlemen were unremitting in their attentions. Drs. Lindsley and Thomas, of the city, were also immediately called in. Under the advice of the medical gentlemen present, he was cupped, and mustard plasters were applied, which seemed to afford some relief. Reviving a little and recovering consciousness, Mr. Adams inquired for his wife. She was present, but in extreme illness, and suffering the most poignant sorrow. After a few moments' interval he relapsed again into unconsciousness. A correspondent of the New York Express describes as follows the progress of these melancholy events: -

"Half past one o'clock. - Mr. Benton communicated to the Senate the notice of the sudden illness of Mr. Adams, and moved an adjournment of that body.

"Quarter to two. - Mr. Adams has several physicians with him, but exhibits no signs of returning consciousness. The report is that he is sinking.

"Two o'clock. - Mr. Giddings informs me that he shows signs of life. He has just now attempted to speak, but cannot articulate a word. Under medical advice he has submitted to leeching.

"Half past two. - Mrs. Adams and his niece and nephew are with him, and Mr. A. is no worse. The reports, however, are quite contradictory, and many, despair of his recovery.

"Three o'clock. - None but the physicians and the family are present, and the reports again become more and more doubtful. The physicians say that Mr. Adams may not live more than an hour, or he may live two or three days.

"His right side is wholly paralyzed, and the left not under control, there being continually involuntary motions of the muscles. Everything which medical aid can do, has been done for his relief. Briefly, just now, by close attention, he seemed anxious to 'thank the officers of the House.' Then, again, he was heard to say - 'This is the last of earth! I AM CONTENT!' These were the last words which fell from the lips of, 'the old man eloquent,' as his spirit plumed its pinions to soar to other worlds."

Mr. Adams lay in the Speaker's room, in a state of apparent unconsciousness, through the 22d and 23d, - Congress, in the meantime, assembling in respectful silence, and immediately adjourning from day to day. The struggles of contending parties ceased - the strife for interest, place, power, was hushed to repose. Silence reigned through the halls of the capitol, save the cautious tread and whispered inquiry of anxious questioners. The soul of a sage, a patriot, a Christian, is preparing to depart from the world! - no sound is heard to ruffle its sweet serenity! - a calmness and peace, fitting the momentous occasion, prevail around!

The elements of life and death continued their uncertain balance, until seven o'clock, on the evening of the 23d, when the spirit of JOHN QUINCY ADAMS bade adieu to earth forever, and winged its flight to God.

"Give forth thy chime, thou solemn bell,
Thou grave, unfold thy marble cell;
O earth! receive upon thy breast,
The weary traveller to his rest.

"O God! extend thy arms of love,
A spirit seeketh thee above!
Ye heav'nly palaces unclose,
Receive the weary to repose."

The tidings of Mr. Adams' death flew on electrical wings to every portion of the Union. A statesman, a philanthropist, a father of the Republic, had fallen. A nation heard, and were dissolved in tears!

In the history of American statesmen, none lived a life so long in the public service - none had trusts so numerous confided to their care - none died a death so glorious. Beneath the dome of the nation's capitol; in the midst of the field of his highest usefulness, where he had won fadeless laurels of renown; equipped with the armor in which he had fought so many battles for truth and freedom, he fell beneath the shaft of the king of terrors. And how bright, how enviable the reputation he left behind! As a man, pure, upright, benevolent, religious - his hand unstained by a drop of human blood; uncharged, unsuspected of crime, of premeditated wrong, of an immoral act, of an unchaste word - as a statesman, lofty and patriotic in all his purposes; devoted to the interests of the people; sacredly exercising all power entrusted to his keeping for the good of the public alone, unmindful of personal interest and aggrandizement; an enthusiastic lover of liberty; a faithful, fearless defender of the rights of man! The sun of his life in its lengthened course through the political heavens, was unobscured by a spot, undimmed by a cloud; and when, at the close of the long day, it sank beneath the horizon, the whole firmament glowed with the brilliancy of its reflected glories! Rulers, statesmen, legislators! study and emulate such a life - seek after a character so beloved, a death so honorable, a fame so immortal. Like him -

"So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained, and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his