Free John Quincy Adams by Harlow Unger

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    As the 1828 election approached, New England textile manufacturers set up a drumbeat of demand for higher protective tariffs. The War of 1812 had cut off cloth imports from England and given New England manufacturers a monopoly. After the war, however, renewed competition from larger, more-efficient British mills saw American markets flooded with less costly, high-quality British cloth, and Congress responded to complaints from New England mills by passing protective tariffs in 1816 and again in 1824. Agricultural interests in the South—especially cotton growers—protested, fearing that their best customers, the British cotton mills, would retaliate and curtail purchases of American cotton. Ignoring such protests, other raw materials producers and manufacturers demanded similar tariff protection—for wool, cotton, hemp, flax, iron, distilled spirits . . . the list grew endless—with the final bill called a “Tariff of Abomination” by its opponents. Passed by a huge veto-proof congressional majority, the bill left John Quincy no choice but to sign it into law. Southern states reacted with outrage, with South Carolina’s legislature calling the tariff unconstitutional and blaming John Quincy for not having vetoed it. Georgia, Mississippi, and Virginia followed suit and cost John Quincy the entire South in the 1828 election.
    When the votes were counted on December 3, Jackson had humiliated John Quincy Adams—with 647,276 Americans voting for Jackson and 508,064 for Adams. In the Electoral College, Jackson captured 178 votes, more than twice John Quincy’s 83 votes. “The sun of my political life sets in the deepest gloom,” John Quincy sighed, “but that of my country shines unclouded.” To ease the pain of his loss, he took “a ride of an hour and a half on horseback.” 34
    Louisa stepped forward to try to cheer her husband by organizing a huge party to celebrate his return to private life. “The defeated party . . . are more smiling and gracious and agreeable than they ever were before,”
Mrs. Samuel Harrison Smith, wife of the owner of the National Intelligencer, wrote to her son.
    At Mrs. Adams’s drawing room last week, every one attached to the administration, as well as the members of the cabinet, appeared with their best looks and best dresses. Mrs. Adams never on any former occasion was so social, attentive, and agreeable. Instead of standing in one place, making formal courtesies, she walked through the rooms conversing with every one in the most animated manner. To add to the gaiety and brilliancy of the evening the great audience chamber was lit up, the band of music stationed there, and dancing took place. 35
    Shortly after the election results appeared in the newspapers, Rachel Jackson saw the story alleging her adulterous relationship with Andrew Jackson before she divorced her first husband. Shocked to the core as she read, she collapsed—a stroke, perhaps, or a heart attack. She died several days later and was buried on Christmas Eve without seeing her husband assume the presidency.
    On March 4, 1829, Andrew Jackson was inaugurated as seventh President of the United States. Ignoring tradition, John Quincy refused to attend either the inauguration or the new President’s White House reception afterwards. “I can yet scarcely realize my situation,” he shuddered in disbelief, saying, “posterity will scarcely believe . . . the combination of parties and of public men against my character and reputation such as I believe never before was exhibited against any man since this Union existed.” He continued:
    This combination against me has been formed and is now exulting in triumph over me, for the devotion of my life and of all the faculties of my soul to the Union and to the improvement, physical, moral and intellectual, of my country. The North assails me for my fidelity to the Union; the South, for my