Headpiece for J. Q. AdamsJOHN QUINCY ADAMS IN RUSSIA
Headpiece for J. Q. Adams
EXTRACTS FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE RELATING TO THE WAR OF 1812, NAPOLEON’S RETREAT FROM MOSCOW, AND CONVERSATIONS WITH MADAME DE STAËL
INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS
ACENTURY ago at this time the Napoleonic wars, so-called, or the convulsions which succeeded the French Revolution of 1789, were rapidly drawing to a close. Beginning with the capture of the Bastille, July 14, 1789, the final catastrophe occurred at Waterloo, June 18, 1815. Meanwhile, during the last half of 1812 and the whole of 1813, it is no exaggeration to say that the whole world was at war. Up to June, 1812, the United States had kept out of the actual fray, maintaining, by hook or by crook, a species of so-called neutrality. The affair of theLeopardand theChesapeake, unspeakably disgraceful to the United States, had occurred off the capes of Virginia in June, 1807. In the following December Jefferson’s embargo had been proclaimed; but, having proved utterly futile as either a remedial or a protective measure, it was removed in March, 1809.
Needless to say, this was for the United States a period of tension and deep humiliation. Threats of disunion were freely made, and the first steps looking to a secession of the New England States from the Union had been taken. On March 4, 1809, James Madison was inaugurated as the fourth President, and war with Great Britain was declared in June, 1812. One of the earliest acts of Madison after taking the oath of office had been to nominate John Quincy Adams to represent the United States at the court of St. Petersburg. Alexander I, then thirty-five years old, was Czar of Russia. Two years before that he had, with Napoleon, effected the treaty of Tilsit, so-called, theatrically signed on a raft moored in the river Niemen. A temporary peace, therefore, existed between the Russian czar and Napoleon, then at the zenith of his career; a truce, rather than a peace, destined to be rudely broken in the summer of 1812. Napoleon’s disastrous Russian campaign, and the War of 1812–15 between the United States and Great Britain, then ensued; the latter was drawing to a close just at the end of 1814 (December 25), six months before the battle of Waterloo.
Mr. Adams’s residence in Russia (1809–1814) covered, therefore, the whole of the period of Napoleon’s Russian experience, as also his campaign during the subsequent year (1813), intervening between the retreat from Moscow and Waterloo. Mr. Adams thus held an official position at the very center of conflict during the four most troubled years of the nineteenth century. He was in the midst of things. During that period also he maintained a constant interchange of familiar, family letters, so far as the facilities for such an interchange then existed,between St. Petersburg and Quincy, his home in Massachusetts. These letters never have seen the light.
On Wednesday, October 16, 1912, the American Antiquarian Society celebrated its centennial anniversary at Worcester, Massachusetts. As president of a sister, but senior, organization—the Massachusetts Historical Society—the writer was invited to take part in this affair, contributing to it. His thoughts, therefore, naturally reverted to the events taking place at the particular time the society, whose birth was thus celebrated, came into existence; and those events were of a very exciting and memorable character.
Napoleon was in Moscow that day, anxiously awaiting the results of certain negotiations he had undertaken, looking to a possible escape from the situation in which he had involved himself. Tidings of the utter failure of the negotiations reached him, and the order to evacuate Moscow, preliminary to the fatal retreat, was given on October 18—just two days subsequent to the occurrence we were to celebrate.
On this side of the Atlantic the memorable action between theConstitutionand theGuerrièrehad occurred on August 19—just two months before; and exactly one week later—October 25—the frigateUnited Statescaptured theMacedonian. Thus, during the latter half of the year 1812, memorable events followed close on one another’s heels. Of all of these, Mr. Adams, in Russia, and his relatives in Massachusetts, were deeply interested observers; and a recurrence to the letters then interchanged, canvassing these events from the contemporary point of view, could hardly fail to be of interest and even of historical value.
A portion of the material from the yellowing letter-files of that intimate family correspondence is offered in the following extracts. They relate exclusively to the events then occurring in Russia and America, and to characters now become historic. One letter, of the most informal character, describes a long interview with the famous Madame de Staël in St. Petersburg, at the time of Napoleon’s Russian campaign, the conversation taking place on the day preceding that on which the great battle of Borodino was fought (September 7, 1812). It will be remembered that Napoleon, considering Madame de Staël an enemy in no way to be despised, had some years before treated her accordingly, so that in 1812 she was still in exile.
Correspondence between Europe and America in those days was carried on under extreme difficulty. Letters, whether passing through the post, or confided for delivery to private hands, were freely opened by officials in nearly every country. To such a degree was this practised that in a letter written from St. Petersburg to his brother, Thomas Boylston Adams, John Quincy Adams observed: “Almost every letter I write is opened and read either by French or English officers.”
Correspondence, therefore, had to be carried on with great discretion. This is apparent in the letters of Mrs. John Adams to her son. In one of them, dated from Quincy, July 29, 1812, she says:
“The declaration of war by the United States against Great Britain, the necessity for which is deplored, renders the communication between us so hazardous that I despair of hearing from you or conveying intelligence to you.... We have not any letters from you of a later date than the 4th March, and we wait in anxious expectation of hearing. I have written to you by various opportunities, and I could not fill many pages with subjects which ought to come to your knowledge of a political nature, if I did not feel myself restrained by the desire I have, that this letter may reach you, as it contains no subject to gratify the curiosity of any one and can be only interesting to yourself as a testimony of the health of your friends.”
“The declaration of war by the United States against Great Britain, the necessity for which is deplored, renders the communication between us so hazardous that I despair of hearing from you or conveying intelligence to you.... We have not any letters from you of a later date than the 4th March, and we wait in anxious expectation of hearing. I have written to you by various opportunities, and I could not fill many pages with subjects which ought to come to your knowledge of a political nature, if I did not feel myself restrained by the desire I have, that this letter may reach you, as it contains no subject to gratify the curiosity of any one and can be only interesting to yourself as a testimony of the health of your friends.”
And again, writing under date of November 30 following, she says:
“Your letters gave us the more pleasure, as we had despaired of hearing again from you during the winter. It is almost a forlorn hope to expect any communication between us. The war between France and Russia on the one hand, and America and England on the other, leaves few chances for private correspondence. If while peace existed so little regard was had to letters addrest to a publicke minister that they must be broken open and family and domesticke concerns become the subject of public investigation, there can be but little satisfaction in writing.... Notwithstanding that blundering Irish Lord Castlereagh[1]denies the fact, I cannot expect more respect or civility when the nations are hostile to each other. Should this be destined to similar honor I request Sir William or any of their Lordships to awaken in their own Bosoms some natural affection and kindly forward this letter to the son to whom it is addrest, and whom three years’ absence from his parents and children render it particularly necessary that it should go with safety.”
“Your letters gave us the more pleasure, as we had despaired of hearing again from you during the winter. It is almost a forlorn hope to expect any communication between us. The war between France and Russia on the one hand, and America and England on the other, leaves few chances for private correspondence. If while peace existed so little regard was had to letters addrest to a publicke minister that they must be broken open and family and domesticke concerns become the subject of public investigation, there can be but little satisfaction in writing.... Notwithstanding that blundering Irish Lord Castlereagh[1]denies the fact, I cannot expect more respect or civility when the nations are hostile to each other. Should this be destined to similar honor I request Sir William or any of their Lordships to awaken in their own Bosoms some natural affection and kindly forward this letter to the son to whom it is addrest, and whom three years’ absence from his parents and children render it particularly necessary that it should go with safety.”
Curious light on this subject of tampering with correspondence is shown in a letter from J. Q. Adams to his mother, dated St. Petersburg, April 7, 1813:
“I know not whether it was generosity, or any other virtue, or merely a disposition to receive the postage, that induced the transmission of your favour of 30 December to Mr. Williams of London; for by him it was kindly forwarded to me, and on the first day of this month, to my inexpressible joy, came to hand. It was but so short a time before that I had received your letter of 29 July!—and excepting that, not a line from Quincy later than April of the last year. This last letter had apparently been opened, although the impression of your Seal upon the wax was restored—a circumstance which indicates that it was done in England, where they still affect the appearance of not breaking seals at the Post-Office.“On this Continent they are less scrupulous about forms. When they open letters, they break the seals, and do not take the trouble of restoring them. They send them open to their address. It reminds me of an anecdote I have lately met with of Prince Kaunitz when he was prime Minister of the Empress Maria Theresa. One of his clerks whose business it was to copy theopenedletters, coming to foreign Ministers at Vienna, in the hurry of reclosing a despatch to one of the Envoys, sent him his copy instead of the original. The Envoy went to Prince Kaunitz, showed him the copy that he had received, and complained that the original was withheld from him. The Prince immediately sent for the Clerk, severely reprimanded him in the Envoy’s presence for his blunder, and directed him to bring instantaneously the original despatch. The Clerk brought it accordingly, and the Prince gave it to the Envoy, with many apologies for the trouble occasioned him by the Clerk’s mistake, and assurances of his hope that it would never occur again.”
“I know not whether it was generosity, or any other virtue, or merely a disposition to receive the postage, that induced the transmission of your favour of 30 December to Mr. Williams of London; for by him it was kindly forwarded to me, and on the first day of this month, to my inexpressible joy, came to hand. It was but so short a time before that I had received your letter of 29 July!—and excepting that, not a line from Quincy later than April of the last year. This last letter had apparently been opened, although the impression of your Seal upon the wax was restored—a circumstance which indicates that it was done in England, where they still affect the appearance of not breaking seals at the Post-Office.
“On this Continent they are less scrupulous about forms. When they open letters, they break the seals, and do not take the trouble of restoring them. They send them open to their address. It reminds me of an anecdote I have lately met with of Prince Kaunitz when he was prime Minister of the Empress Maria Theresa. One of his clerks whose business it was to copy theopenedletters, coming to foreign Ministers at Vienna, in the hurry of reclosing a despatch to one of the Envoys, sent him his copy instead of the original. The Envoy went to Prince Kaunitz, showed him the copy that he had received, and complained that the original was withheld from him. The Prince immediately sent for the Clerk, severely reprimanded him in the Envoy’s presence for his blunder, and directed him to bring instantaneously the original despatch. The Clerk brought it accordingly, and the Prince gave it to the Envoy, with many apologies for the trouble occasioned him by the Clerk’s mistake, and assurances of his hope that it would never occur again.”