Evening Star Newspaper, March 13, 1932, Page 74

4 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, MARCH 13, 1932, = T'he Unknown Story of Abby Adams BY MARY MERWIN PHELPS.. ONTRAST is the key-word of Abby Adams’ life story. Fromd the sim- plicity of a New England village home to the gliliter of a European Court; from her palatial residence in New York City, with a Summer mansion on Long Island, this only daughter of John and Abigail Adams lived out her last years in a small farmhouse far from the social cen- ters of civilization. For the first half of this little lady’s life Fate and fortune seem to have co-operated to give her the best of gifts; health, happiness, wealth, power—only in the end to take them away, : Born and brought up in the old town of Braintree, just outside of Boston, quiet, modest and industrious, Abby Adams had besédes these substantial traits. a ‘Benerous share of good Jooks. Even though her mother stressed mental and moral qualities: above physical beauty, still, Miss Abby had her mirror, and she saw therein a dainty figure of five feet and a bit more, a thoughtful, serious face with deep, Ilustrous eyes, a fine straight nose and a cupid-bow mouth with the suggestion of a pout. Dressed in home-woven linen frock or best- bib-and-tucker gown of. chintz and calamanco petticoat, a Kenton handkerchief folded over her young bosom, and & demure cap on her brown curls, the daughter of John and Abigail at 17 made a picture altogether pleasing to her admirer, Royall Tyler, Esq., late come from Boston to settle down and practice his profes- sion, law, after having done his bit in the war. A gay gallant, in garnet coat and short clothes, he frequently found his way to the Adams home, where he was cordially received by Mrs. Adams. With his droll wit, and his love of poetry, the Harvard graduate proved a social godsend to Mistress Abigail during those dark days while her husband was away on his diplo- matic service in France and Holland. And as for the young man, he spent interest- ing hours with the mother and daughter, caus- ing much friendly gossip in the neighborhood, for it was agreed that he was courting Miss Abby. The village folk thought the young couple would make a match. Certainly, they made a picture as they rode along the oak- shaded street down to Boston town, the young girl in her habit of nanken, faced with blue satin, and her little biue hat and feather; her lover in high boots and dashing colonial attire. But there were those who cast envious eyes on the happy pair. Mr. Tyler was a boarder in the home of Abby's aunt and uncle, the Cranches. Their two daughters were the solid, reflecting sort of young ladies, given to science rather than to shallow coquetry. Betsy, past 20, already was within the almost hopeless confines of spinster- hood. The Cranches took kindly to the young barrister, with an evident eye to winning a husband for their Ectsy. But the cards went against them from the first. Sister Adams had the ace, and they no trumps. Sadly they cranched the situation over,-while the young man was :pending his evenings out. Their criticism ran after this wise: “It is scandalous that Sister Abigail should encourage this improvident young man, this spendthrift. His father left a fair property, but with the depreciation of Colonial money, and the son’s failure to husband his re- sources, his share in the estate has fallen to a few hundred pounds. I hear, 100, he has gambled away more than one crown. ., ,” Thus spake the godly Uncle Cranch, and his spouse corroborated his charges. “And look at the way he dresses, extrava- gantly for these times. Husband, I consider it thy duty to inform our dear brother John of the condition of affalts between his daughter and this young man, who rides . about, wasting his time, when he should be making of himself a man of parts.” R. RICHARD CRANCH straightway sat : down and wrote a lengthy epistle to his dear brother-in-law, John Adams, He spoke of the state of public affairs as being in 8 bad way, of the high cost of living—butter at $12 a pound and all other necessities at a similar rate; then humbly begged if he might “draw upon” Brother Adams for a small amount, and finally by gentle transition turned to family topics. He spoke of the romance that had sprung up between the young lawyer and his niece “Nabby,” and advised her father to pur- sue due discretion before granting his consent to the marriage. Some few months later Abigail Adams re- ceived by a French packet & letter from her lord and master charging caution concern- ing their daughter’s love affair—there should be no announcement of the couple’s engage- ment and they should behave as friends only. “Honest poverty is no objection to a young man, but dissipation and idleness are insuper- able objections,” concluded the parental ver- dict. This damper to the spirits of the ardent lovers Mrs. Adams attempted to lift by promis- ing to make all things rjght with her husband. Meantime. the Cranches continued to play their prettiest to win the prize, but their finesse was too obvious for concealment. Mr, Tyler saw jealousy back of their behavior, and decided to make a test to prove his thesis. He dropped his attentions to Miss Abby (with her consent), and gave his leisure time to the Cranch ladies. He read from the classics, at their fireside, he took Miss Betsy out walking, and wrote sentimental verses on her charms. The opinion Mrs, Cranch had held of the bril- lant cavalier's character quickly reversed it- self. She now stoutly defended him. “How can people be so ill-natured as to try and injure a young man of such fine talents! For my part, I believe he will one day be a leading citizen. What if be sometimes indulges in levity more than is becoming his years, his gaiety comes from his creative imagination. . . . This flattering estimate of the young bachelor was short-lived, for he soon left poor Betsy and went back to his first love, her {afr cousin Abby. Then Papa Cranch inscribed Health, Happiness, Wealth and Power Were the Gifts Fate and Fortune Gave to This Great American Beauty, Only to Take Them Away in End. Mrs, Abigail Adams Smith, from the Copley portrait in the possession of her daughter’s family. a second letter to Brother John, with a still more damning report of Mr. Tyler’s character. The atmosphere of the Cranch circle became unwholesomely chill, and the young eligible decided to return to Boston and open a law office there. His position in the Adams home was apparently secure—Abby loved him and Mrs. Adams was still friendly. When out of a clear sky came instructions from Minister Adams for the wife and daughter to close the Braintree home and join him for an indefinite period in Europe. Royall Tyler was advised of the news. He begged that he and Abby might not be separated until the ceremony had made them man and wife. Mrs. Adams said that could not be, though she would try to arrange for him to join them abroad, where the marriage might take place. She appealed to the honor of the young man, and wrote him a letter in which she begged that he help Abby to solve wisely her problem. Was Abby willing to see her mother depart without her daughter? The young girl was in Boston at the time, and answered her mother’s query. “I presume you do not propose the ques- tion whether I would consent to your leav- ing this country without you with an inten- tion of being influenced by my reply. If you did, I confess I should not know what to determine. I had rather go from neces- sity than choice—the latter would never carry me, the former must. My inclination and wishes must be subservient to my duty. What I have said is all I shall say on the subject.” Abby Adams had chosen to forswear love and follow duty. She had a spartan will, an Adams will. In this, as in face and feature, she resembled her father. T was an affecting scene, the lovers parting at the Boston wharf, that day in June, 1784, just before the merchant ship sailed for Liver- pool. Both mother and daughter wept as Royall Tyler turned away, too dejected to bid them farewell. He dragged heavy steps back to Beacon street and his good friends, the Palmers, who sought to comfort him. He found a little diversion in their children, especially Polly, and when the balloon furore struck the Puritan city, he helped construct one for them. The young folks were happy, and the elders thought nothing more of it. Not so their neighbors. Rumor traveled across the water “by secret means” that Abby's erstwhile lover was spending his time in a “silly way"—and in a sinful way as well, gaming. He himself was untroubled, for he had confessed his do- ings by letter to his sweetheart. Fifteen weeks waiting, and then a billet doux from Paris, telling of her gay life, sight- seeing, shopping and the opera. Other letters followed, shorter, and with decreasing signs of homesickness and sadness. At last, one came from London, where Mr. Adam had been ap- pointed Minister to St. James. Royall Tyler, despondent and unable to carry on his busi- ness, retired to his mother's home to look after her interests. His days were spent wait- ing for news from across the water. His worst forebodings were verified. Through a letter from Charles Storer, a member of the Ameri- can embassy in England, Tyler learned of the presence of a rival admirer, Col. Smith, secre- tary of the legation, who was paying devotion to the lovely little Miss gddams. Royall Tyler knew of Col. Smith as ohe of Gen. Washing- ton’s aides, who had won his chief’s affec- tionate confidence. Bitterly, the forsaken lover ruminated upon the unequal chance of fortune that granted favors regargdless of merit, and placed one man above another through adventitious circum- stance. In this scmbre mood, Royall Tyler re- ceived from the hand of Charles Storer the package containing the miniature of himself that Abby had taken with her togéther with his love letters. He read the superscription: “Letters of Mr. Royall Tyler to A. A. Re- turned by the hand of Mr. Storer. He read her brief note. “Sir: Herewith you receive your letters and miniature, with my desire that you would return mine to my Uncle Cranch and my hopes that you are well satisfied with the affair as is. A. A.” Could it be that Abby Adams had written these hard, cutting words? Yes, there they were in her own handwriting. He then heard from his friend the account of his last thter- view in the American Minister’s drawing room on Grosvenor square, the eve of his sailing for Boston, when the daughter came in with dis- traught yet determined composure, and placed her rejected lover's letters in the hands of the bearer. The mother watched the scene with sorrowful eyes. “Abby, my dear child, have you well considered what you are about?” And the young lady replied coldly, “Madame, I have well considered and am determined.” She then left the room. Mrs. Adams gave her last commission and Mr. Storer made his adieu. Royall Tyler listened to the recital with stupified attention. This was not the young girl he had loved. Abby Adams had been transformed by the glamor of fuhiog- able society into an ambitious, worldly woman, She had chosen as a husband a man of wealth and with prospects of becoming a man of prominence. Col. Smith had won the flatter- ing approbation of Abby’s parents. Mrs, Adams wrote to her sister: “Your niece is engaged to a gentleman worthy of her; one whom you will be proud to take by the hand and own as a nephew. With regard to his person, he is tall, slender, and a good figure; a complexion naturally dark, but made still more so by seven years’ service in the field. He appears a gentle- man in every thought, word and action,” HE wedding of William Stephens Smith and Abigail Adams was solemnized June 12, 1786, “under the sanction of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of St. Asaph.” Less than a twelve-month after the event, the bride confessed to her brother, John Quincy Adams, her disillusionment, a revelation of his darling sister’s heart-grief that gave him “a variety of sensations” and caused him to ponder long over her words: “ .. if a young lady is capable of in- consistencies, if she is deficient in judgment, prudence . . . the fault is not half so much her own as of those who have care of her education, We are like clay in the hands of the artist . . . earliest impressions of the mind . . . often have the gratest effect. . . .” The young matron was gaining a realistic overnight. “The Contrast” presented the plain American in the character of “Jonathan,” as contrasted with those innoculated with foreign snobbery. In “Van Rough,” the character of John Adams was recognized, exaggerated but obvious; in “Dimple,” Col. 8mith was featured, in “Maria,” Abby Adams; while the author himself appears in the person of “Manly.” Royall Tyler had found an antidote for the poison of his un- fortunate love affair—he now had it “out of his system”—and could in the future give himself to an active life and a new love. He married little Polly Palmer, took her to Vermont where he founded a happy home, and where he gained success in his profession, and was honored as judge of the Supreme Court of the State. HE contrast between the rise and fall in for- tune of the Tyler and Smith familfes is dramatic. While Royall Tyler was being toasted in New York City as the great American dramatist, Mr. and Mrs. William Stephens Smftth were receiving congratulations upon the birth of their first child, a son, christened William Steuben Smith. The parents were then at the apex of their popularity, with the pointer, however, slightly downward. John and Abigail ‘Adams had already returned to their native land; before many months Col. Smith was superseded as secretary of the legation, and he with his family set sail also. They were instantly immersed in the gayeties of New York’s smart set. During the inauguration of Washington, Col. Smith, leader of a troop of horses in the military parade, made a striking picture, like a knfght in joust. Pageantry suited this adventurous spirit. By nature restless and am- bitious, William Stephens Smith could not easily fall back into the steady jog-trot of civilian life. The husband of Abby Adams, a brave, bril- liant soldier, was lacking in steady poise and calm forethought. Repeatedly, he made grave errors, both in public and private enterprise. The year following his return to New York, he sank a large share of his fortune in land speculation, Pifteen years later, with impetuous enthusiasm, he aided in the Miranda expe=- dition for the liberation of the Spanish colo= nies in South America. The youth, William Steuben, then in his nineteenth year, went as adjutant, together with many of his young friends. When the crew was captured and in danger of being executed as pirates, the Spanish Min- ister through the consul at New York, offered pardon for the Adams’ grandson on the pro- viso that Col. Smith reveal the complete plan of Miranda in his attempted revolution, an overture rejected with fine spirit by the father of the boy. He would not save his own son at the expense of his comrades. Nevertheless, William Steuben Smith was released and re- turned home, and the mother’s heart was freed from its painful strain. Her suffering in behalf of her husband, however, continued. On complaint of the Spanish Gow William Stephens Smith was brought before the Supreme Court of the New York district and tried for connivance against a power. The court found him guilty, but he was acquitted by the jury. Financial ruin followed. He lost his position as surveyor of the port of New York, with its annual of $6,000. The Smith family moved to Leba- non, N. Y., built a small house on a tract of their unimproved land, called Smith's Vallay, The wife and mother became an invalid and the Summer of 1813, she died at Quincy, leaving three children, Caroline, William Steu- ben and John Adams Smith. The loss of her only daughter east a shadow over Abigail Adams’ last years; still, as she said, she was not given to gloom.