Power  /  Book Review

John Quincy Adams's America

Historians may never speak of an “Age of Adams” to rival Andrew Jackson, but Randall Woods’s new biography reveals the sixth president’s greatness.

If there is a central theme or persistent question in Woods’s biography, it revolves around this concept of destiny: Can someone groomed for success, like Adams, achieve genuine greatness while in the shadow of the founding generation? What does it truly mean to be a great American? Given John Quincy’s revolutionary heritage, Harvard education, and the myriad advantages and experiences of his early life, one might understand his father’s stern admonition: “You come into Life with Advantages which will disgrace you, if your success is mediocre.—And if you do not rise to the head not only of your Profession but of your Country it will be owing to your own Laziness, Slovenliness, and Obstinacy.” While this sort of pressure would have broken many other children, as it tragically did some of his own sons, John Quincy himself imbued this sense of destiny and genuinely believed his life and service to the young American republic held providential significance.

While Woods clearly admires John Quincy Adams, particularly for his unwavering sense of duty to the nation over party politics and his astounding academic appetite, A Man for the Whole People is far from a hagiography. Adams’ vanity, superiority complex, racism, and sexism are candidly displayed throughout this biography. Woods does not shy away from the less flattering aspects of Adams’ character such as his early career financial woes, youthful indulgence in prostitutes, complicated marriage to Louisa Catherine Adams, and numerous self-inflicted career frustrations and political miscalculations.

Yet, Woods also highlights Adams at his finest, such as his crucial role in negotiating the Treaty of Ghent, his contributions to the development of international law, his ambitious plans for modernizing the American republic, and his serving as the defense attorney for the African captives in the Amistad case. Through wonderful prose and a deft blend of primary sources, Woods captures the complexities of John Quincy Adams’ sense of purpose and ego, his naked ambition alongside his patriotic need to serve, and his sincere devotion to God’s providence interwoven with his self-importance. It makes for great, and inspirational, reading.

Like all John Quincy Adams biographers, Woods highlights both the advantages and stress of living in John Adams’ shadow. Through their detailed and candid letters, the senior Adams remained a significant influence on John Quincy Adams throughout his life. But, unlike other biographies, Woods carves out a special place for the influence of Abigail Adams, particularly in John Quincy’s formative years abroad. As Woods explains, due to John Quincy’s gender and family name, as well as his place in the formative period following the American Revolution, he was given opportunities and access that Abigail herself could only dream of. Woods makes it clear that Abigail helped ensure much of John Quincy’s success (whether he liked it or not) and contributed her fair share to his stressful sense of destiny.