In the mean time President Van Buren ordered the U. S. schooner Grampus, Lieut. John S. Paine, to repair to New Haven, to be in readiness to convey the Africans to Havana, should such be the decision of the Court. But the Court decided that the Government of the United States had no authority to return them into slavery; and directed that they be conveyed in one of our public ships to the shores of Africa, from whence they had but recently been torn away. From this decision the U. S. District Attorney appealed to the Supreme Court of the United States.
These transactions attracted the attention of the whole people of the Union, and naturally excited the sympathy of the masses, pro and con, as they were favorable or unfavorable to the institution of slavery. Who should defend, in the Supreme Court, these poor outcasts--ignorant, degraded, wretched--who, fired with a noble energy, had burst the shackles of slavery, and by a wave of fortune had been thrown into the midst of a people professing freedom, yet keeping their feet on the necks of millions of slaves? The eyes of all the friends of human rights turned instinctively to JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. Nor were their expectations disappointed. Without hesitation he espoused the cause of the Amistad negroes. At the age of seventy-four, he appeared in the Supreme Court of the United States to advocate their cause. He entered upon this labor with the enthusiasm of a youthful barrister, and displayed forensic talents, a critical knowledge of law, and of the inalienable rights of man, which would have added to the renown of the most eminent jurists of the day.
"When he went to the Supreme Court, after an absence of thirty years, and arose to defend a body of friendless negroes, torn from their home and most unjustly held in thrall--when he asked the Judges to excuse him at once both for the trembling faults of age and the inexperience of youth, having labored so long elsewhere that he had forgotten the rules of court--when he summed up the conclusion of the whole matter, and brought before those judicial but yet moistening eyes, the great men whom he had once met there--Chase, Cushing, Martin, Livingston, and Marshal himself; and while he remembered that they were 'gone, gone, all gone,' remembered also the eternal Justice that is never gone--the sight was sublime. It was not an old patrician of Rome, who had been Consul, Dictator, coming out of his honored retirement at the Senate's call, to stand in the Forum to levy new armies, marshal them to victory afresh, and gain thereby new laurels for his brow; but it was a plain citizen of America, who had held an office far greater than that of Consul, King, or Dictator, his hand reddened by no man's blood, expecting no honors, but coming in the name of justice, to plead for the slave, for the poor barbarian negro of Africa, for Cinque and Grabbo for their deeds comparing them to Harmodius and Aristogeiton, whose classic memory made each bosom thrill. That was worth all his honors--it was worth while to live fourscore years for that."
[Footnote: Theodore Parker.]
This effort of Mr. Adams was crowned with complete success. The Supreme Court decided that the Africans were entitled to their freedom, and ordered them to be liberated. In due time they were enabled, by the assistance of the charitable, to sail for Africa, and take with them many of the implements of civilized life. They arrived in safety at Sierre Leone, and were allowed once more to mingle with their friends, and enjoy God's gift of freedom, in a Pagan land--having fortunately escaped from a cruel and life-long bondage, in the midst of a Christian people.
In reply to a letter requesting Mr. Adams to write out his argument in this case, he concludes as follows: "I shall endeavor, as you desire, to write out, in full extent, my argument before the Court, in which all this was noticed and commented upon. If it has no other effect, I hope it will at least have that of admonishing the free people of this Union to keep perpetually watchful eyes upon every act of their executive administration, having any relation to the subject of slavery."
In availing the country of the benefit of the "Smithsonian Bequest," and in founding the "Smithsonian Institute" at Washington, Mr. Adams took an active part. He repeatedly called the attention of Congress to the subject, until he succeeded in causing a bill to be passed providing for the establishment of the Institute. He was appointed one of the Regents of the Institute, which office he held until his death.
In the summer of 1843, Mr. Adams visited Lebanon Springs, N. Y., for the benefit of his health, which had become somewhat impaired, and also the health of a cherished member of his family. He designed to devote only four or five days to this journey; but he was so highly pleased with the small portion of the State of New York he saw at Lebanon Springs, that he was induced to proceed further. He visited Saratoga, Lake Georgia, Lower Canada, Montreal and Quebec. Returning, he ascended the St. Lawrence and the Lakes as far as Niagara Falls and Buffalo, and by the way of Rochester, Auburn, Utica and Albany, sought his home in Quincy with health greatly improved.
Although Mr. Adams had many bitter enemies--made so by his fearless independence, and the stern integrity with which he discharged the public duties entrusted to him--yet in the hearts of the people he ever occupied the highest position. They not only respected and admired the politician, the statesman, but they venerated the MAN! they loved him for his purity, his philanthropy, his disinterested patriotism, his devotion to freedom and human rights. All this was manifested during his tour through New York. It was marked in its whole extent by demonstrations of the highest attention and respect from people of all parties. Public greetings, processions, celebrations, met him and accompanied him at every step of his journey. Never since the visit of La Fayette, had such an anxious desire to honor a great and good man been manifested by the entire mass of the people. His progress was one continued triumphal procession. "I may say," exclaimed Mr. Adams, near the close of his tour, "without being charged with pride or vanity, I have come not alone, for the whole people of the State of New York have been my companions!"
At Buffalo he was received with every possible demonstration of respect.
The national ensign was streaming from an hundred masts, and the wharves, and the decks and rigging of the vessels, were crowded by thousands anxious to catch a glimpse of the renowned statesman and patriot, who was greeted by repeated cheers. Hon. Millard Fillmore addressed him with great eloquence. The following is the conclusion of his speech:--
"You see around you, sir, no political partisans seeking to promote some sinister purpose; but you see here assembled the people of our infant city, without distinction of party, sex, age, or condition--all, all anxiously vieing with each other to show their respect and esteem for your public services and private worth. Here are gathered, in this vast multitude of what must appear to you strange faces, thousands whose hearts have vibrated to the chord of sympathy which your written speeches have touched. Here is reflecting age, and ardent youth, and lisping childhood, to all of whom your venerated name is as dear as household words all anxious to feast their eyes by a sight of that extraordinary and venerable man, of whom they have heard, and read, and thought so much--all anxious to hear the voice of that 'old man eloquent,' on whose lips wisdom has distilled her choicest nectar. Here, sir, you see them all, and read in their eager and joy-gladdened countenances, and brightly-beaming eyes, a welcome--a thrice-told, heart-felt, soul-stirring welcome to 'the man whom they delight to honor.'"
Mr. Adams responded to this speech in a strain of most interesting remarks. He commenced as follows:--
"I must request your indulgence for a moment's pause to take breath. If you inquire why I ask this indulgence, it is because I am so overpowered by the eloquence of my friend, the chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means, (whom I have been so long accustomed to refer to in that capacity, that, with your permission, I will continue so to denominate him now,) that I have no words left to answer him. For so liberal has he been in bestowing that eloquence upon me which he himself possesses in so eminent a degree, that while he was ascribing to me talents so far above my own consciousness in that regard, I was all the time imploring the god of eloquence to give me, at least at this moment, a few words to justify him before you in making that splendid panegyric which he has been pleased to bestow upon me; and that the flattering picture which he has presented to you, may not immediately be defaced before your eyes by what you should hear from me. * * * * * *
In concluding his remarks he said:--"Of your attachment to moral principle I have this day had another and pleasing proof in the dinner of which I have partaken in the steamer, in which, by your kindness, I have been conveyed to this place. It was a sumptuous dinner, but at which temperance was the presiding power. I congratulate you on the evidence there exhibited of your attachment to moral principle, in your co-operation in that great movement which is promoting the happiness and elevation of man in every quarter of the globe.
"And here you will permit me to allude to an incident which has occurred in my recent visit to Canada, in which I perceived the cooperation of the people of that Province in the same great moral reformation. While at Quebec, I visited the falls of Montmorenci, a cataract which, but for yours, would be among the greatest wonders of nature. In going to it, I passed through the parish of Beauport, and there, by the side of the way, I saw a column with an inscription upon its pedestal, which I had the curiosity to stop and read. It was erected by the people of Beauport in gratitude to the Virgin, for her goodness in promoting the cause of temperance in that parish. Perhaps I do not sufficiently sympathize with the people of Beauport in attributing to the Virgin so direct an influence upon this moral reform; but in the spirit with which they erected that monument I do most cordially sympathize with them. For, under whatever influence the cause may be promoted, the cause itself can never fail to make its votaries wiser and better men. I cannot make a speech. My heart is too full, and my voice too feeble. Farewell! And with that farewell; may the blessings of heaven be upon you throughout your lives!"
Mr. Adams was greatly delighted with his visit to Niagara Falls. A letter-writer thus describes it:--
"Mr. Adams seems incapable of fatigue, either physical or mental. After a drive in the morning to Lewiston, he stopped, on his return to the Falls, at the whirlpool. The descent to the water's edge, which is not often made, is, as you will remember, all but vertical, down a steep of some three hundred and sixty feet. One of the party was about going down, when Mr. Adams remarked that he would accompany him. Gen. Porter and the other gentlemen present remonstrated, and told him it was a very severe undertaking for a young and hearty man, and that he would find it, in such a hot day, quite impracticable. He seemed, however, to know his capacities; and this old man, verging on four score years, not only made the descent, but clambered over almost impracticable rocks along the margin of the river, to obtain the various views presented at different points. The return was not easy, but he was quite adequate to the labor; and after resting a few minutes at the summit, resumed his ride, full of spirits and of animated and instructive conversation. After dinner, he crossed over to Goat Island, and beheld the cataract from the various points, and continued his explorations until all was obscured by darkness.
He seemed greatly impressed by the wonderful contrast presented by the scene of rage and repose--of the wild and furious dashing of the mighty river down the rapids, with its mad plunge over the precipice--and the sullen stillness of the abyss of waters below. I wish I could repeat to you his striking conversation during these rambles, replete with brilliant classical allusions, historical illustrations, and the most minute, and as it seemed to me, universal information. * * * * * * I sincerely concur with the worthy captain of one of our steamboats, who said to me the other day,--'Oh, that we could take the engine out of the old "Adams," and put it into a new hull!'"
During his visit at the Falls, Mr. Adams, on a Sabbath morning, accompanied by Gen. Porter, visited the remnant of the Tuscarora Indians, and attended divine service in their midst. At the conclusion of the sermon, Mr. Adams made a brief address to the Indians, which is thus described by the letter-writer alluded to above:--
"Mr. Adams alluded to his advanced age, and said this was the first time he had ever looked upon their beautiful fields and forests--that he was truly happy to meet them there and join with them in the worship of our common Parent--reminded them that in years past he had addressed them from the position which he then occupied, in language, at once that of his station and his heart, as 'his children'--and that now, as a private citizen, he hailed them in terms of equal warmth and endearment, as his 'brethren and sisters.' He alluded, with a simple eloquence which seemed to move the Indians much, to the equal care and love with which God regards all his children, whether savage or civilized, and to the common destiny which awaits them hereafter, however various their lot here. He touched briefly and forcibly on the topics of the sermon which they had heard, and concluded with a beautiful and touching benediction upon them."
At Rochester immense multitudes assembled to receive Mr. Adams. He was welcomed in an eloquent address from the Mayor of the city. The following are a few extracts from the reply of Mr. Adams:--
"Mr. Mayor and Fellow-citizens:--I fear you expect from me a speech. If it were in my power, oppressed as I am with mingled astonishment and gratitude at what I have experienced and now see of your kindness, to make a speech, I would gratify you with one adorned with all the chaste yet simple eloquence which are combined in the address to which you have just listened from your worthy Mayor. But it is not in my power. You may probably think there is some affectation on my part, in pretending inability to address you, knowing as many of you do, that I have often addressed assemblies like this. But I hope for greater indulgence from you than this. I trust you will consider that I have seen and spoken to multitudes like that now before me, but that these multitudes had frowning faces. Those I could meet, and to those I could speak. But to you, whose every face is expressive of generous affection--to you, in whose every countenance I see kindness and friendship--I cannot speak. It is too much for me. It overcomes my powers of speech. It is a new scene to me.
"Amongst the sentiments which I have expressed, and the observations which I have made during my brief tour through this portion of your State, it was impossible for me to forego a constant comparison with what New York was in other days, and what it is now. I first set my feet upon the soil of the now Empire State, in 1785. I then visited the city of New York,--at that time a town of 18,000 inhabitants. I tarried, while in that city, at the house of John Jay--a man whom I name, and whom all will remember, as one of the most illustrious of the distinguished patriots who carried our beloved country through the dark period of the Revolution. Mr. Jay, the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, under the Congress of the Federation, was laying the foundation of a house in Broadway, but which was separated by the distance of a quarter of a mile from any other dwelling. At that time, being eighteen years of age, I received an invitation to visit western New York; and I have regretted often, but never more than now, that I had not accepted that invitation. Oh! what would I not have given to have seen this part of this great State then, that I might be able to contrast it with what it now is. * * * * *
"It has seemed to me as if in this region the God of nature intended to make a more sublime display of his power, than in any other portion of the world. He has done so in physical nature--in the majestic cataract, whose sound you can almost hear--in forest and in field--in the mind of man among you, In what has been accomplished to make your city what it is, the aged have done the most. The middle aged may say we will improve upon what has been done; and the young, we shall accomplish still more than our fathers. That, fellow-citizens, was the boast in the ancient Spartan procession--a procession which was divided into three classes--the old, the middle-aged, and the young. They had a saying which each class repeated in turn. The aged said--
'We have been, in days of old, Wise and gentle, brave and bold.'
The middle-aged said--
'We, in turn, your place supply; Who doubts it, let them come and try.'
And the boys said--
'Hereafter, at our country's call, We promise to surpass you all.'
And so it will be with you--each in your order."
At Auburn every possible token of respect was paid to the venerable statesman. A committee consisting of ex-Gov. Seward, Judge Conklin, Judge Miller, Luman Sherwood, P. H. Perry, S. A. Goodwin, James C. Wood, and J. L. Doty, Esqs., proceeded to Canandaigua to meet Mr. Adams. At half past nine o'clock in the evening, Mr. Adams, accompanied by the committee, arrived in Auburn. He was received by a torch-light procession, composed of the Auburn Guards, the Firemen, and an immense concourse of citizens, and conducted to the mansion of Gov. Seward, where he thus briefly addressed the people:--
"Fellow-citizens:--Notwithstanding the glow with which these brilliant torch-lights illuminate my welcome among you, I can only acknowledge your kindness, on this occasion, by assuring you that to-morrow morning, by the light of the blessed sun, I hope to take everyone of you by the hand, and express feelings too strong for immediate utterance."
On the following morning at six o'clock, Mr. Adams visited the State Prison, and made many inquiries concerning the discipline of the prison, and its success in the prevention of crime and reformation of offenders.
At 9 o'clock he met the citizens in the First Presbyterian church, where he was addressed by Gov. Seward, as follows:--
"SIR:--I am charged with the very honorable and most agreeable duty, of expressing to you the reverence and affectionate esteem of my fellow-citizens, assembled in your presence.
"A change has come over the spirit of your journey, since your steps have turned towards your ancestral sea-side home. An excursion to invigorate health impaired by labors, too arduous for age, in the public councils, and expected to be quiet and contemplative, has become one of fatigue and excitement. Rumors of your advance escape before you, and a happy and grateful community rise up in their clustering cities, towns, and villages, impede your way with demonstrations of respect and kindness, and convert your unpretending journey into a triumphal progress. Such honors frequently attend public functionaries, and such an one may sometimes find it difficult to determine how much of the homage he receives is paid to his own worth, how much proceeds from the habitual reverence of good republican citizens to constituted elective authority, and how much from the spirit of venal adulation.
"You, sir, labor under no such embarrassment. The office you hold, though honorable, is purely legislative, and such as we can bestow by our immediate suffrage on one of ourselves. You conferred personal benefits sparingly when you held the patronage of the nation. That patronage you have relinquished, and can never regain. Your hands will be uplifted often, during your remaining days, to invoke blessings on your country, but never again to distribute honors or reward among your countrymen. The homage paid you, dear sir, is sincere, for it has its sources in the just sentiments and irrepressible affections of a free people, their love of truth, their admiration of wisdom, their reverence for virtue, and their gratitude for beneficence.
"Nor need you fear that enthusiasm exaggerates your title to the public regard. Your fellow-citizens, in spite of political prudence, could not avoid honoring you on grounds altogether irrespective of personal merit.
John Adams, who has gone to receive the reward of the just, was one of the most efficient and illustrious founders of this Empire, and afterwards its Chief Ruler. The son of such a father would, in any other age, and even in this age, in any other country than this, have been entitled, by birth alone, to a sceptre. We not merely deny hereditary claims to civil trust, but regard even hereditary distinction with jealousy. And this circumstance enhances justly the estimate of your worth. For when before has it happened that in such a condition of society the son has, by mere civic achievement, attained the eminence of such a sire, and effaced remembrance of birth by justly acquired renown?
"The hand we now so eagerly grasp, was pressed in confidence and friendship by the Father of our Country. The wreath we place on your honored brow, received its earliest leaves from the hand of Washington. We cannot expect, with the agency of free and universal suffrage, to be always governed by the wise and the good. But surely your predecessors in the Chief Magistracy, were men such as never before successively wielded power in any State. They differed in policy as they must, and yet, throughout their several dynasties, without any sacrifice of personal independence, and while passing from immature youth to ripened age, you were counsellor and minister to them all. We seem therefore, in this interview with you, to come into the presence of our departed chiefs; the majestic shade of Washington looks down upon us; we hear the bold and manly eloquence of the elder Adams; and we listen to the voices of the philosophic and sagacious Jefferson, the refined and modest Madison, and the generous and faithful Monroe.
"A life of such eminent patriotism and fidelity found its proper reward in your elevation to the eminence from which you had justly derived so many honors. Although your administration of the government is yet too recent for impartial history, or unbounded eulogy, our grateful remembrance of it is evinced by the congratulations you now receive from your fellow-citizens.
"But your claims to the veneration of your countrymen do not end here.
Your predecessors descended from the Chief Magistracy to enjoy, in repose and tranquillity, honors even greater than those which belonged to that eminent station. It was reserved for you to illustrate the important truths, that offices and trusts are not the end of public service, but are merely incidents in the life of the true American citizen; that duties remain when the highest trust is resigned; and that there is scope for a pure and benevolent ambition beyond even the Presidency of the United States of America.
"You have devoted the energies of a mind unperverted, the learning and experience acquired through more than sixty years, and even the influence and fame derived from your high career of public service, to the great cause of universal liberty. The praises we bestow are already echoed back to us by voices which come rich and full across the Atlantic, hailing you as the indefatigable champion of humanity--not the humanity which embraces a single race or clime, but that humanity which regards the whole family of MAN. Such salutations as these cannot be mistaken. They come not from your contemporaries, for they are gone--you are not of this generation, but of the PAST, spared to hear the voice of POSTERITY. The greetings you receive come up from the dark and uncertain FUTURE. They are the whisperings of posthumous FAME--fame which impatiently awaits your departure, and which, spreading wider and growing more and more distinct, will award to JOHN QUINCY ADAMS a name to live with that of WASHINGTON!"
The audience expressed their sympathy with this address by long and enthusiastic cheering. When order was restored, Mr. Adams rose, evidently under great and unaffected embarrassment.
He replied to the speech in an address of about half an hour, during which the attention of his audience was riveted upon the speaker, with intense interest and affection. He declared the embarrassment he felt in speaking.
He was sensible that his fellow-citizens had laid aside all partizan feelings in coming up to greet him. He desired to speak what would not wound the feelings of anyone. He was grateful, deeply grateful, to them all. But on what subject of public interest could a public man speak, that would find harmony among an intelligent, thinking people? There were such subjects, but he could not speak of them.
The people of Western New York had always been eminently just and generous to him, and had recently proved their kindness on various occasions, by inviting him to address the State Agricultural Society on agriculture. But his life had been spent in the closet, in diplomacy, or in the cabinet; and he had not learned the practice, or even the theory of agriculture.
After what he had seen of the harvests of Western New York, bursting with food for the sustenance of man, for him to address the people of such a district on agriculture, would be as absurd as the vanity of the rhetorician who went to Carthage to instruct Hannibal in the art of war.
He had been solicited to address the young. In his life time he had been an instructor of youth, and, strange as from his present display they might think it, he had instructed them in the art of eloquence. And there was no more honorable office on earth than instructing the young. But the schools and seminaries had passed him, while he was engaged in other pursuits; and for him now to attempt to instruct the young of this generation, would evince only the garrulousness of age.
He had been invited to discourse on internal improvement; but that was a subject he feared to touch. On one point, however, all men agreed. All were in favor of internal improvement. But there was a balance between the reasonable sacrifices of this generation, and the burden it had a right to cast upon posterity, and every individual might justly claim to hold his balance for himself. One thing, however, he was sure he might assume with safety. In looking over the State of New York, upon its canals and railroads, which brought the borders of the State into contiguity, and its citizens in every part into communion with each other, he was sure that all rejoiced, and might well glory in what had been accomplished.
Mr. A. said he had read and endeavored to inform himself concerning prison discipline, a subject deeply interesting to the peace, good order, and welfare of society; but after his examination of the penitentiary here, he was satisfied that he was yet a learner, instead of being able to give instruction on that important subject.