John Adams: Don't Tread on Me

Eric
Even before the opening credits of part three of the HBO John Adams miniseries, the viewer gets the feeling that the soaring triumph from Part II was short lived. This installment of the seven part movie plummets from the heights of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, seen in the previous episode, to the depths of John Adams' political failures as a European envoy during the latter stages of the Revolutionary War.

Abigail Adams and her husband, John, walk arm-in-arm along the snowy landscape of their Massachusetts farm. Abigail gushes that at long last John has returned to her after they endured years of separation during his service to the Continental Congress. Just before the opening title sequence rolls we see John stare at his wife with a haunted, secretive look that foreshadows more sacrifice to come for her and her children as a result of John's service to our young country.

Abigail's subsequent heartbreak is hard to watch. She makes an impassioned case as to how much love and happiness John's separation from her has cost their family over the years. John is convinced; he decides to refuse his overseas assignment. Abigail does an about face, however. Not only does she tell her husband that he is the only man for the job, but he needs to take his son, John Quincy with him. I found this one of the most fascinating aspects of this episode--to see how the future sixth president got his start in foreign policy. The cold, loveless farewell between Abigail and John doesn't bode well for what lies in store.

John Quincy becomes a renowned diplomat, but he didn't learn that skill from the second president, his father. John's stay in Paris is an unmitigated failure. The tactless, impatient country lawyer from Massachusetts cannot adapt to the subtle ways of French politics. He leaves in humiliation after a long period of frustration, estranged from Benjamin Franklin, his colleague in Paris, and the French people for whom he could find no empathy.

Meanwhile, back at home, Abigail's loneliness becomes acute when John's letters become less frequent and less affectionate. The most emotional scene in this episode is between Abigail and her daughter, Nabby, late one night. Nabby begs her mother to stop washing windows and come to bed. Abigail rails on her husband as fiercely as she wipes each pane of glass, as if she is trying to scrub John's conscience from 3,000 miles away. This seems like the big paradox of episode three: that John should stop writing Abigail, his dearest, closest confidant, just because of political failure. Why could he not continue to affirm his love for her, when they both needed each other's support the most?

This part closes with John sick with a fever, sweating, coughing, and delirious in his apartment in Amsterdam. John Quincy has been shipped off to St. Petersburg to be the secretary for the United States ambassador there. So, he is quite alone, near death and estranged from all. He cannot even comprehend in his state that the war with Britain is over and America is free.

We know for a fact that this defeated, ill man recovers to become the first vice-president and the second president of the United States. But in this third episode we cannot see it, and the human frailty of this giant man in American history makes this melancholy installment the most paradoxically interesting episode, yet.

Kelly
One of the things I like best about this series is the way it reflects the family experience during a time in America's history that usually focuses on military victories and losses. Death in battle comes to mind first when we hear about sacrifices made during the Revolutionary War. This episode in particular takes a look at the personal sacrifices families made every day that were more subtle than life and death. One such sacrifice is laid out in the open in the snowy opening scene of Part III. Abigail says to John, "You realize, John, it has been fourteen years since we've been married. Not more than half of that time have we had the joy of living together. But you are here now, and you are safe."

Not so fast!

Abigail knows instinctively before John tells her that their ordeal is not over. He's not staying. John tells her in a heartbreaking scene as they lie side by side in bed that he has been sent to France to help Dr. Franklin.

"You cannot ask this of me. You cannot." Abigail whispers through her tears. John tries to explain, and she cuts him off. "You are needed here, John. Your children require your example. I need you here. Are you to add more years to those we already split apart? How can you give me back that time? How can you compensate to me all those years I cannot get back?"

John and Abigail continue to work through their decision in the darkness of their bedroom with choked sobs and tears streaming down their cheeks. The cost of freedom is dear. Finally, Abigail acknowledges that John must go where his country sends him. She admits if she were a man, she would also be in the field of action. "There all honor lies."

The goodbye scenes are difficult to watch in Part III. This is not the first time John has had to leave his family. They know what they're in for. Each one of them is very familiar with the loneliness, fear, and melancholy that come next. John's children cling to him, voice their anger, and finally console each other once again. And to increase the pain, John takes his oldest son, John Quincy, with him this time-- at Abigail's request. As difficult as it will be to let her son go, she knows that it is time for him to develop his own sense of duty to his country.

Abigail bids her husband goodbye with a growl. "You come back to me, John," she says with a fierceness that is more of a threat than a term of endearment. She is obviously angry over their situation and helpless to do anything about it.

When John Adams and his son arrive in Paris after a frightening voyage, Franklin tells John that a treaty is all but finished. Adams is at first angry that he was not told before he braved the Atlantic in the winter, but he resolves to get to work on finalizing the details. Dr. Franklin tries to warn John that the French don't appreciate demands or expedition. "We are all actors here, Mr. Adams," Ben Franklin tells him. "And so far my performance has been well received." Franklin further tells Adams that he knows he is a good and moral man, which makes him exactly the wrong diplomat for Paris. "Paris requires a certain amount of indecency of thought and action." Franklin says with a twinkle in his eye.

Adams ends up insulting the French with his adamant push for more action. He is asked if he will attend the opera while in Paris, and he says rather boldly that he has no time. "I must study politics and war so that my sons will have the liberty to study mathematics and philosophy." Adams' work ethic does not impress the French, and he makes few friends in Paris.

Meanwhile, Abigail is holding down the fort at home. Her loneliness is apparent in a blue scene in the middle of the night, where she wanders from room to room and checks on each of her children. Her emptiness is not filled with letters from her "dearest friend." Instead, John's letters become more and more infrequent. The real reason he does not write seems to be that he is embarrassed by his failure in the French court. Abigail is deeply saddened by the infrequency of John's letters and the fact that when they do arrive, they do not give her any assurance that he loves her and has not forgotten them. "How can he not know what his silence costs me?" She says to her daughter as she stares out the window.

The scenes of Franklin living it up in France provide some comic relief to the loneliness that tears at the hearts of John and Abigail. Adams is eventually asked to leave France, but he is not allowed to go home. He travels instead to Holland to ask for a loan and is not successful there, either. American credit is not well established, and the Dutch will lend money only to those who are capable of paying it back.

Duty first--before love, family, comfort...or health. Adams lies covered with sweat, alone and hallucinating as a result of a serious illness. He has recently sent John Quincy to Russia to "put his accomplishments to use in the service of his country." The family is now spread across the globe.

We feel the frustration of diplomatic decisions that plod along and put off the happy reunions of family members who love each other deeply. Our hearts twist when Abigail and John each receive news of the British surrender at separate times and worlds apart--Abigail hugs herself for comfort and then her children. It is unclear whether or not John even comprehends the news through his fever and hallucinations.

Duty first--but at what cost?