American Rebels

by Nina Sankovitch

  Edmund moved with his wife and daughters to modest lodgings in Boston. But they often returned to Braintree to stay with various members of the Quincy clan. With Esther engaged to Jonathan Sewall, there were still three unmarried daughters to marry off, and the Quincy parties were the most likely avenues for finding suitable matches. Sarah Quincy became engaged to William Greenleaf in the early 1760s; like her sister Esther, her engagement period was a long one, and the four Quincy girls—Katy, Esther, Sally, and Dolly—(“remarkable for their beauty”) continued to be known as the “lovely daughters” always ready for family parties and outings.5

  The 1761 summer wedding of Samuel Quincy to Hannah Hill was just such a party. Young women dressed up in white muslin embroidered with flowers; the men paraded in brushed linen coats, their cravats brilliant in the sunshine. John Adams wrote to Sam before the big event wishing him great happiness with “joyful expectations of approaching wedlock”—and he would have been invited to the celebration.6 Abigail Smith, cousin to Sam, would also have been in attendance, along with her sisters and Richard Cranch, John Adams’ close friend and her sister Mary’s beau.

  Although Josiah Quincy and his family wanted Sam’s sister, Hannah, to attend, their affection for Bela Lincoln, now her husband, had long faded. Within just months of Hannah and Bela’s wedding in May 1760, her family realized that Lincoln was a beast. His treatment of her displayed both “Brutality and Rusticity”—in other words, he berated and bullied her, and most likely physically abused her as well—but there was little they could do about it.7 Hannah had hoped for so much in marrying Lincoln but found herself abused and degraded as his wife.

  John Adams felt powerless to protect the woman he had once dreamed about. He wrote with vehemence in his diary, “A hoggish, ill bred, uncivil, haughty Coxcomb, as ever I saw.… His treatment of his wife amazed me.… Bela really acts the Part of the Tamer of the Shrew in Shakespeare.” He lamented that Hannah’s beauty and wit were fading, and she was “sunk into silence and shame, and Grief.”8

  The match of Sam Quincy and Hannah Hill was much happier, founded on mutual attraction and a shared appreciation for the finer things in life. When Sam arranged for Hannah’s portrait to be painted by John Singleton Copley, the esteemed Boston portraitist, he worked with the artist to make sure his wife was presented “in the vanguard of taste,” wearing “rich and sensuous” clothes that, while “exotic and alluring,” aligned with Sam’s views on appropriate female attire.9 Although Sam liked to have a good time, he was no libertine and he preferred his women to dress modestly, while stylishly. As a poet he also appreciated symbolism, and while Hannah was sitting for the portrait, he brought her a sprig of larkspur to hold, symbol of “ardent attachment.”10

  Six years later, Sam Quincy had his portrait painted by Copley as well. He was dressed as a Crown lawyer, wearing the wig and black robe donned by all barristers admitted to the bar in England. While the uniform indicated his status, Quincy’s affable expression and casual pose indicated that he was also “a man of urbanity, style, and charm.”11

  The two paintings hung side by side in Sam and Hannah’s mansion on the fashionable South Street in Boston, alongside other paintings and treasures that Hannah’s father had given them. Josiah Quincy gave the newly married couple a gift of property, four hundred acres in Lincoln, a farming village not far from Braintree; it was an appreciated source of extra income for the young couple with expensive tastes.

  * * *

  John Hancock was not present at the wedding of his old friend Sam Quincy. He was away in England, sent there by his uncle Thomas and aunt Lydia with two goals in mind. The first goal, a desire harbored by Aunt Lydia, was that her handsome and elegant nephew might achieve a final polish of British etiquette and fashion; the second goal, Uncle Thomas’ wish, was to introduce John to the foreign agents and markets, both in England and on the continent, upon which the House of Hancock depended.

  John went through a large cache of spending money in England, having himself a good time at the English court among the wealthy and the noble, and buying himself all the latest fashions for his evenings out. As he wrote to his uncle, trying to explain away the high expenses he was incurring, “I am not Remarkable for the Plainness of my Dress.… Upon proper occasions I dress as genteel as any one and cant say I am without Lace.… I find money some way or other goes very fast, but I think I can reflect it has been spent with satisfaction and to my own honor.”12

  In addition to outfitting himself to the degree desired by his aunt, and learning to swim in the Thames (a skill he hadn’t mastered while living in America), John was also busy making the necessary rounds to the overseas agents of the House of Hancock. Going from office to office, in London, Bristol, and Manchester, and traveling to firms in Amsterdam and Hamburg, John met the men responsible for keeping goods and moneys flowing into the accounts of the House of Hancock.

  By and large young Hancock impressed these men with his “agreeable” character: “he is a very worthy, well-disposed young gentleman” was the report back to Thomas.13 John successfully secured lucrative contracts for his uncle’s firm both in England and on the continent, including another contract with the Crown for supplying the needs of British troops in Nova Scotia.

  During the year that John spent in England, he certainly enjoyed its pleasures and charms, but he did not succumb to them; he remained a Braintree village boy at heart. Unlike other colonial travelers to the mother country, John never felt envy for what the English had, nor did he attempt to ingratiate himself with the English gentry or try to portray himself as more than what he was, a young man from America.

  Whereas Thomas had laid claim to a coat of arms, John wasn’t interested in becoming noble or pretending to be. Being rich, well-dressed, and social was more than enough for him. When he fell ill and was cared for by a woman of the lower classes, John took her out for tea and meals; later he would be chided in the press for socializing below himself but John did not care. The woman was young, pretty, and kind—and again, that was enough for John.

  He missed Massachusetts while he was away, writing to a cousin that he was eager to return to “the more substantial pleasures … in the enjoyment of my friends in America … whom I prefer to the showy and … superficial, flattering sincerity of many here.” To his uncle Thomas, John swore that while “a man of fortune might live here as happy as possible … for me … the greatest estate in England would be but a poor temptation … to spend my days here.”14 The Braintree-born boy was ready to come home. He would never leave America again.

  When John arrived back in Boston in the fall of 1762, he was met by a much-aged Thomas. His uncle suffered from gout, along with “a nervous disorder” and fatigue.15 The firm’s business was becoming more than he could handle—he was “Just Creeping about pretty poorly”—and the time had come to pass the mantle on to John.16 He put his newly returned nephew in charge of many aspects of the House of Hancock, from managing the ledgers and account books to drawing up plans for future contracts and building new ships to meet those contracts.

  John took on the work with diligence and energy. He offered Thomas the rest and respite he needed, and through his hard work, assured his uncle that he had taught his nephew well. In January 1763, Thomas made John—then twenty-six years old—a partner in his firm and changed the name to Thomas Hancock and Company.17

  Thomas wasn’t the only one impressed with young Hancock. John was invited to join the Masonic Lodge of St. Andrews in Boston, whose members included such prominent citizens as his old neighbor Josiah Quincy, the lawyer James Otis Jr., and Dr. Joseph Warren, a man a few years younger than John, who would become one of his closest friends.

  Around this time, John was also invited to become a member of the Long Room Club, a secret society recently formed by Sam Adams, cousin to John Adams but from a previously wealthier side of the family. The purpose of the Long Room Club was to discuss colonial politics. Warren was a member, along with James Otis Jr.,
Dr. Benjamin Church, and the silversmith Paul Revere.

  John Adams, an exacting observer of the work habits of others, took note of Hancock’s diligence in business; he wrote that Hancock was “an example to all the young men of the town. Wholly devoted to business, he was regular and punctual at his store as the sun in his course.”18 But as devoted to the firm as John might be, he was also a man who liked to go out with his friends, drinking, talking, and playing at cards. He wanted men to like him, and he was as good at charming the merchants, shipbuilders, and sailors who came by the office during the day as he was at befriending the lawyers, politicians, journeymen, and craftsmen with whom he passed his evenings.

  While Thomas was satisfied that John could manage the House of Hancock (as it was still called by many), Lydia became concerned that the social life of her nephew needed some direction, specifically in the nature of female companionship. There were rumors going around of John’s involvement with a female tenant on Hancock’s Wharf who was a purveyor of liquor, groceries, linen drapery—and possibly sexual favors. Whatever the truth of the rumors, it must have been a relief to Lydia when John took notice of the sister of one of his oldest friends.

  John first saw Dorothy Quincy coming out of church one Sunday in the early summer of 1764. From that point on, he made it a point of frequently stopping by the Braintree home of Josiah Quincy Sr., where Dolly and her sisters were often visitors. Dolly was seventeen years old, Hancock was ten years older. Both were slim and of good height for their time; judging by their portraits later painted by Copley, with their high foreheads, dark eyes, and slender lips, the two might have been siblings.

  From all accounts, the feelings between the good-looking pair were amiable from the start. But it would be more than a few years before a formal attachment was made.

  * * *

  King George III ascended the throne in October 1760. Toasts were made to his health throughout the British colonies, but John Adams’ first mention of the new king already raised the specter of rebellion, in a message he sent to Abigail via her sister Mary. He had become close with all of Abigail’s sisters but was especially warm with Mary, owing to her impending marriage to Richard Cranch, one of John’s best friends.

  In the message John warned “Mrs. Nabby” (as he teasingly called Abigail) against becoming “a most loyal subject to young George,” for if Abigail were to show too much favor to George, “altho my Allegiance has been hitherto inviolate I shall endeavour, all in my Power to foment Rebellion.”19

  How true those words would be, he could not possibly know. But from that date on, love letters flowed between John and Abigail, with no intermediary required. He called her his “Miss Adorable,” and she professed herself bound to him by “a three-fold chord,” of humanity, friendship, and physical attraction.20

  They began to spend as much time as they could together, John traveling back and forth to Weymouth, and Abigail coming to stay with her grandparents in Braintree. Their affection was deep and physical, with “two or three millions at least” of kisses exchanged by the fall of 1762.21

  They flirted by mail, John demanding “as many Kisses and as many Hours of your company … as he [John] shall please,”22 and Abigail replying in kind, as she began her letters with the endearment of “My Friend,” a term of considerable intimacy in the eighteenth century, and ended with “Accept this hasty scrawl warm from my heart.”23

  Abigail’s mother, proud of being from the Quincy family, had reservations about the suitability of John, son of a yeoman farmer. Abigail’s father also opposed the match. He hated all lawyers, so much so that he refused to allow the horse of a lawyer to stable in his barn. When John came to visit the Smith family in Weymouth, he had to tie his horse up by the roadside. But the young couple persevered, hoping that in time the older Smiths would come to appreciate John as much as the younger ones did.

  In the spring of 1761, the scourge of influenza that had been ravaging the colony passed through the village of Braintree. Both of John’s parents fell ill. His father died in May; although his mother recovered, “being younger than my Father and possessed of a stronger constitution,” she was still too sick at the time to attend her husband’s funeral service. “It was a melancholy time in our house,” John wrote later.24 The home John had grown up in passed to his older brother, while John inherited the smaller house next door, along with forty acres of land.

  Having become a property owner, John was now a member of the town of Braintree, entitled to vote at town meetings and partake in town politics. In his new status as landed citizen, he set about renovating the house he had inherited. He added a door where the kitchen window had been and converted the old kitchen into a sizable law office and library, while the kitchen was moved to a lean-to. The office was kept warm through the long, cold Braintree winters by the large hearth and bright all year long with its south-facing windows.

  With a fine standing desk in one corner, an etching or two framed and hung above the fireplace, and shelves of books along the walls, John hoped his new office would impress clients. But first, he had to plot a course of action that would keep the office bustling.

  Since he’d been admitted to the bar in 1758, cases had come his way but success had not. After losing his first lawsuit, a very public case of trespass with Josiah Quincy presiding as justice of the peace and Sam Quincy representing the defendant, John had despaired of his reputation: “It will be said, I undertook the Case but was unable to manage it … An opinion will spread among the People that I have not Cunning enough.”25

  John realized that his new status as town member offered him an opportunity to highlight his legal skills. He decided to align himself with the growing temperance movement in Braintree as a way of demonstrating his lawyerly abilities as well as—he hoped—solidifying his financial footing. The number of licensed inns in Braintree had proliferated in the 1750s, and the number of public drunks had likewise increased. John campaigned to limit the number of licenses to three and won the approval of the Braintree board of selectmen.

  With his public profile raised, and in such a positive way (the measure had been largely supported by the townsfolk), the number of John’s clients increased tenfold. Most of his clients were farmers, unable to pay big fees, but his legal career was well on its way. He would have to wait a number of years before he could marry Abigail, but the objections of her family would no longer be financial.

  * * *

  Jonathan Sewall was also finding his way as a lawyer. If he hoped to set a wedding date with Esther Quincy, he needed to become financially stable, especially now that Esther’s father had lost his fortune and there was little that Esther could bring to the marriage. The path to that financial security came about through an unexpected alliance with Thomas Hutchinson, a wealthy lawyer with great ambitions for himself and the colony. Hutchinson would become a leading Loyalist and was already firmly aligned with Parliament and the Crown.

  Hutchinson was named chief justice of the Massachusetts Supreme Court in 1760, taking the place of Jonathan’s uncle, Stephen Sewall, who had died in the influenza epidemic. After his uncle’s death, Jonathan discovered that the older man was bankrupt and had left many outstanding debts. Jonathan tried to have his uncle’s debts paid by the provincial government, but his petitions for payment went nowhere, in large part due to the objections of James Otis Jr., a prominent Boston lawyer. Sewall swore enmity to Otis. Meanwhile, Otis had come to despise Hutchinson, because he believed his father should have been made chief justice, and not Hutchinson. Hutchinson in turn disdained Otis as a troublemaker. This triangle of dislike would play an important role in Jonathan Sewall’s fortunes.

  As a challenge to Hutchinson’s new authority as chief justice, in 1761 James Otis Jr. brought a petition to the court, challenging the use of writs of assistance as a countermeasure against smuggling. The writs were a kind of general search warrant, easily issued and often violently enforced, that allowed royally appointed customs officials to search c
olonial property (ships and warehouses) and seize property deemed to be contraband.

  Hutchinson, as chief justice, believed the writs were perfectly legal under English law, but Otis, arguing on behalf of the sixty-three merchants he represented, described the writs as “the worst instrument of arbitrary power, the most destructive of English liberty and the fundamental principles of law, that was ever found.”26 If the writs were allowed to stand, Otis predicted that the privilege of being safe in one’s home would “be annihilated.”27

  Lawyers for the Crown’s customs officials argued that use of the writs had been granted by Parliament and could not be taken away; colonial courts were well within their rights to issue such warrants and demand compliance with them, again under the authority granted to them by Parliament. Led by Chief Justice Hutchinson, the court ruled for the Crown officials and affirmed the legality of the writs of assistance across Massachusetts. Otis’ petition was denied and the use of writs to search and seize goods of colonial merchants continued.

  Protests broke out throughout Boston. For many, if not most, colonists, the sanctity of the home was protected under English law against marauding powers of Crown-approved officials. Hutchinson’s decision was illegal, in their opinion. Hutchinson might have won the day in court, but as he watched the protests in the streets, he realized that objections to royal authority, not only in cases involving the search warrants but others as well, would continue if he did not step in to tamp down unrest in the colony. He sought out young lawyers who would defer to Parliament and were loyal to the Crown, in order to build up legal support for his own authority. Jonathan Sewall, being both a lawyer and a public enemy of Otis, was just the man to be courted over to Hutchinson’s side.

  After the conclusion of the writs of assistance case, during which Sewall had publicly supported the Crown, Hutchinson began sending prestigious and well-paying clients to Sewall. Sewall was an excellent lawyer, as his close friend John Adams attested to later: “Mr. Sewall had a soft, insinuating eloquence, which, gliding imperceptibly into the minds of a jury, gave him as much power over that tribunal as any lawyer ought ever to possess.… He was a gentleman and a scholar, had a fund of wit, humor, and satire, which he used with great discretion at the bar.”28