Diary of Charles Francis Adams, volume 2

Saturday. 15th. CFA Saturday. 15th. CFA
Saturday. 15th.

Morning at the Office, thence to Harding’s and saw an opening 161likeness, thence to Miss Scollay’s to see a picture of her painting which is very pretty as coming from no professed artist,1 thence to the Navy Yard, with my Father and George, where we went over all the vessels building. There are under cover, two vessels of a hundred guns, one of sixty and a sloop of war, besides others in ordinary. Fine looking masses. From here we passed to Mr. Everett’s where we met Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham, Mr. and Mrs. P. C. Brooks Jr. and Mr. and Mrs. Blodget. Mr. Brooks and Abby, Gorham and Mr. Thomson, an Englishman whom I saw at Washington but did not know last Winter. I sat next to Abby. First time George and I had seen her when we were together. He behaved singularly. After dinner, I doubted much during the Storm but finally concluded to go to Medford with Abby.


Catherine Scollay (d. 1863) was a self-taught Boston artist who exhibited her landscapes and figure paintings at the Athenaeum between 1827 and 1848 (Groce and Wallace, Dict. Amer. Artists ).

Sunday. 16th. CFA Sunday. 16th. CFA
Sunday. 16th.

This day passed with but little incident of a nature worthy to be recorded. I was almost all day in conversation with Abby upon indifferent subjects and was pleased as I always am. She went to Meeting in the afternoon, during which time I read some of Miss Wakefield’s Botany.1 Mr. Thomson paid a visit and drank tea this evening, introducing a Mr. Stewart, another Englishman.


Priscilla Wakefield, An Introduction to Botany, in a Series of Familiar Letters, London, 1796.

Monday 17th. CFA Monday 17th. CFA
Monday 17th.

Rode to Boston in Mr. Brooks’ open Carriage in company with him and Abby. After dressing I took her up in a Chaise at Mrs. Frothingham’s and started on a visit to Weymouth. We stopped at the Mansion in Quincy for a few minutes, and had not started on our journey many minutes, before my horse thought proper to fall and throw me out of the Chaise. Luckily I was not injured, and on my return to my feet, I found Abby still clinging to the Chaise but also uninjured. We were detained some time by this accident, but having obtained another horse and Chaise, we continued our Journey. The Tufts family whom we went to visit are connected with each family in some way or other.1 And as they are persons in a middle condition in life, feel much flattered by little attentions of this kind. We dined and spent the afternoon here. My father and John (who had just returned from Lebanon), Mrs. Adams and Elizabeth coming over to tea. We returned by a quarter past eight to Boston after a ride of terrific anxiety to me, 162and I sincerely returned thanks to God, when I had landed Abby safely at Mrs. Frothingham’s. Indeed I had never until now discovered how much I really loved her, for the idea of injury falling upon her even indirectly through my agency was dreadful. And yet she is to trust all to me! Perhaps futurity has worse in store for her by my means. This constitutes my only unhappiness, but I will trust it to the all powerful Deity. My heart is certainly pure. She behaved most exceedingly well throughout.


For the complicated relationship of the Tufts family with both the Adamses and the Brookses, see Adams Genealogy.