The Old House Chamber: Death of John Quincy Adams
After his term as the sixth president, John Quincy Adams made an unprecedented gesture of civic service. In 1831, two years after leaving the White House, he was elected to the House of Representatives, making him the first man to retire from the executive chair and take a seat in the “lower chamber.” “Old Man Eloquent,” as Adams was appropriately dubbed, continued to use his gift of oration and his strong conservative convictions to further the preservation of the Union.[1] From his seat in the Old House Chamber, Adams argued against the United States’ justification for the Mexican War and boldly defended individual rights. Numerous bills Adams debated and authored show him dedicated not only to the preservation of the Union, but to all of the individuals within her borders.[2]
Arguing for a national university, celestial observatory (for improvements in the sciences and military navigation), and the creation of the Smithsonian Institute, Adams continued to uphold his Puritan-based commitment to personal education, American heritage, and national sovereignty.[3] As these numerous proposals and petitions demonstrate, Adams’ congressional career served as the capstone to his decades of service to his beloved America. Leaving the White House as an unpopular executive, Adams used his strong sense of morality, devotion to political principles, and ability to overcome personal challenges to redeem his legacy.[4]
Perhaps the most compelling part of his legacy was formed as Adams articulately fought against slavery on moral, judicial, and economic grounds. He famously stated that “the undying worm of conscience twinges with terror for the fate of the peculiar institution. Slavery stands aghast at the prospective promotion of the general welfare.”[5] Notably, at the age of seventy –three, Adams was “persuaded to join the abolitionist team” and take on a landmark case in American history. The United States vs. Amistad brought sectional differences to the forefront as the case involved kidnapped Africans, illegally transported as slaves. These men had freed themselves while on board the slave ship, killing the captain and a cook. Arguing in the highly politicized Amistad case, Adams combined his rich knowledge of international and constitutional law and a devotion to protecting human rights to win the day.[6] He accomplished this in the face of heavy opposition from the executive branch. Should the decision have been for any of those making claims of ownership, President Martin van Buren had a ship standing by to return the Africans to slavery before any appeal could be filed on their behalf.
On Monday, February 23, 1848 this legacy came to an end in an event “unrivalled in drama and pathos.”[7] Early that morning, Adams walked into the House of Representatives’ Chamber and took his seat. Holding to his convictions to the very end, Adams’ voice trembled as he objected to a motion designed to thank the American generals of the Mexican War (indirectly noting his disapproval of the subversive executive action taken by the original declaration of war).[8] It “seems fitting that his last word in Congress should have been ‘No!’” as Adams had “resisted the tide” in many ways throughout his years of public service. [9] As he rose to speak, he collapsed and was immediately rushed into the nearby Speaker’s Office, which is today designated the Lindy Boggs Reading Room. Two days later, Adams passed away, his final words reflective of his lifelong Christian faith: “this is the end of earth, I am composed.”[10] His death was symbolic of the era in which he served. Adams had literally served from the age of 11 until his death. He embodied a peculiar dedication to country characteristic of his contemporaries, who recognized that their service was occurring at a pivotal moment in history. Even one of his most ardent adversaries, Thomas Hart Benton, articulated this notion perfectly in a tribute to Adams: “Death found him at the post of duty; and where else could it have found him?”[11]
Notably, the death of John Quincy Adams was “one of the first media events” in American history.[12] With the recently implemented Morse telegraph, news of the event travelled rapidly. This gave rise to uniquely unbiased news publications, as each writer was able to offer his thoughts on Adams’ death spontaneously, without the influence of outside opinions.[13] Likewise, sections of newly constructed railroad carried the casket up the Atlantic seaboard, allowing people to personally participate in the mourning process for their former President. The Boston Courier wrote that “on no previous occasion of the kind have our citizens at large so generally abandoned their businesses and their homes and joined in a public demonstration of the character.”[14] Indeed, the commemoration of this event “was unprecedented in scope.”[15] Both the instinctive written responses and the individual access to this event solidified a spirit of national unity and a respect for founding principles while demonstrating the power of the rising communication and transportation revolutions.
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