by Mark Puls
He reported that he was prospering and that his son, Henry Jackson Knox, was in the navy. "I am here and should be more happy in my pursuits than I have ever been were some embarrassments entirely dissipated. But this will require time. My estate with indulgence is competent, and greatly more, to the discharge of every cent I owe."
Knox had no way of knowing as he wrote these words that Washington had already died. Ironically he concluded the letter by saying: "I may not wish you the greatest blessing by wishing you a long life—because I believe firmly that while you continue here you are detained from a much better condition. But I pray fervently that your days on earth may be days of felicity without clouds of sickness or sorrow.“2
On December 13, Washington had ridden about his estate and was caught in a light rain, after which he developed a fever and complained of difficulty in breathing. His condition worsened, and doctors bled him of twelve ounces of blood, causing him to deteriorate badly. He died on December 14, 1799, at 67 years of age, and was placed in the vault at Mount Vernon just days after Congress had begun sessions in the capital bearing his name.
In November 1800, a fire erupted at the War Department office in Washington, D.C. Nothing could be done to save the warehoused records detailing the careers of the former secretaries. Samuel Dexter, the current secretary of war, bemoaned: "All my papers have been destroyed by fire." Yet in letters, Knox did not express concern that his place in history might have been jeopardized.
Knox was not completely finished with politics, however. In the presidential election of 1800, Knox worked in support of the reelection of John Adams. The issues that divided the country continued to revolve around relations with France along with the unpopularity of the Alien and Sedition and Naturalization acts. In response to the number of French agents and spies known to be operating around the country and due the strong pro-French sentiment, Congress passed these drastic measures that curtailed free speech and civil rights. President Adams extended their use to silence critics of his administration by throwing a number of newspaper publishers in jail.
The military buildup in the face of the possible war had caused high taxes, and Adams was blamed by his opponents for being simultaneously too soft and too harsh in his dealings with France. When electoral ballots were counted on February 11, 1801, Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr both received seventy-three votes, followed by Adams with sixty-five and Pinckney with sixty-four. Six days later, the U.S. House ran through thirty-six ballots and remained deadlocked. The Federalist caucus backed Burr, but Alexander Hamilton used his influence to swing the election to Jefferson, who was chosen president. Burr became the vice president.
At the time, Knox would have had little reason to realize that election marked the end of prominence of the Federalists. From the mid-1780s until the defeat of John Adams, the Federalists had dominated American politics. Knox had been a vital cog in the party as its members had cemented the union, created and championed a national constitution, and had produced the first two U.S. Presidents while building up the nation's defenses and sparking its economy. But the party that centered itself on a belief in a vigorous federal government, strong national defense, and pro-British economic ties suddenly found itself too weak to ever again win a presidential election.
Part of the reason that the party could burn so brightly and yet would flare out so suddenly lay in its dependence on George Washington. The Federalist Party had been built by men who had been willing to subvert their careers to boost Washington's reputation in an attempt to unify the country. The Federalists were able to capitalize on the popularity of Washington—much to the dismay of Republicans like Jefferson—to gain national office. Jefferson viewed a personality-driven party as undemocratic in spirit.
Once Washington was no longer on the scene, much of the Federalists' strength dissipated. Fortunately for Jefferson, the leading Federalist, Alexander Hamilton, could not run for president because he was foreign-born.
Although disappointed at the defeat of John Adams, Knox was heartened by Jefferson's inaugural address, specifically by his reminder that "We have called by different names brethren of the same principle. We are all Republicans, we are all Federalists.“3
In a March 16 letter to Jefferson, Knox admitted that he had backed Adams but praised the bipartisan stance of the new president's national address and expressed confidence in his colleague's character. Responding eleven days later, Jefferson voiced "the greatest satisfaction I learn from all quarters that my inaugural address is considered as holding out a ground for conciliation & union." Writing perhaps for the eyes of John Adams, he explained in detail that he would likely nullify many of the late-hour federal appointments the former president had made after discovering that he had been denied reelection. "I have opened myself frankly because I wish to be understood by those who mean well, and are disposed to be just towards me, as you are," Jefferson explained to Knox. "I know you will use it for good purposes only and for none unfriendly to me.“4
In Massachusetts, Knox remained active in state politics, and ran in 1801 for a seat in the legislature, which was called the general court. During sessions, he appeared affably unpolished in debates and hesitant as a speaker. During his military career, he had been accustomed to carefully collecting his thoughts and reducing his opinions to paper. He was less comfortable in the impromptu arena of deliberations on the floor of the state house. Harrison Otis Gray, a former U.S. congressman who served alongside Knox in the state legislature, observed that Henry "did not possess the talent of debate, but was unaffectedly diffident of his oratorical powers. He was nevertheless a fluent and effective speaker. He had the gift of natural eloquence; his imagination was ardent, and his style sublimated perhaps to a fault." Knox tended to use flowery language. Yet Otis claimed that no one in the legislature commanded greater attention when speaking than did the booming General Knox. But even Otis believed that Knox was at his best in the company of the polished circles of high society.
To Knox's great satisfaction, President Jefferson reversed his earlier opposition to Henry's long-standing proposal for a national military academy. On March 16, 1802, Congress gave its approval for a military school for the corps of engineers and named Jonathan Williams, a grand-nephew of Benjamin Franklin, its superintendent. The United States Military Academy at West Point opened on Independence Day, 1802. Knox had continually advocated a military academy for the past twenty-five years. He had established the nation's first officer-training academy at his artillery headquarters at Pluckemin during the war, which was the forerunner to West Point. In 1783 and again during the Washington administration, he specifically proposed West Point as the site to build a military school, and he even went so far as to outline a course of study.
Knox's contribution to the U.S. military and his support for a military academy were recognized by his election to the United States Military Philosophical Society, which was headquartered at West Point. The academy's superintendent, Williams, founded the society, using books he had inherited from his great-uncle. These volumes became its scientific library. The society's political and military goals were to build knowledge that would help develop nations around the world.
On May 17, 1803, Henry Jackson Knox married Eliza Taylor Reed, the eldest daughter of the town clerk in Thomaston, Josiah Reed, who published their engagement as part of his official duties. The match was viewed as fortuitous by Henry and Lucy. Miss Reed was the granddaughter of a wealthy land -owner, and their son's future prospects appeared bright. The bride was also intelligent and charming, known for her amiable personality.
Knox's daughter Lucy also became betrothed. On January 6, 1804, she married Ebenezer Thatcher of Newcastle, a brigadier general in the state militia. He was educated at Harvard as a lawyer and would later become a circuit court judge in the District of Maine. He was athletic and rugged, yet had a refined quality and was remarkably articulate. He also had impeccable Revolutionary War credentials as the son of Samuel Thatcher, a militia col
onel who fought at the battles of Lexington and Concord.
In the spring of 1804, the sister-in-law of James Madison, Anna Cutts, made a visit to Boston and spent much of her time with the Knoxes. In the evenings, Lucy would lay out tables with games for guests to play. Henry refrained from participating in these amusements but would walk around the room, moving from one circle of guests to another playing host. Lucy was competitive by nature and kept her gaming skills sharp by constant practice. Cutts wrote to her sister, Dolley Madison: "We have very pleasant lodgings, and for my companion, the famous Madame Knox, who although very haughty, I find pleasant and sensible. Chess is now her mania, which she plays extremely well, only too often for my fancy, who am not of late so partial to it. Every morning after breakfast, there is a summons from her ladyship, which I attend, pins me to her apron-string until time to dress for dinner, after which she retires, again inviting me to battle. Out of twenty-one games, in only two, and a drawn game, has she shown me any mercy; she is certainly the most successful play I have ever encountered.“5
Shortly before Knox turned fifty-four, he was appointed by Massachusetts governor Caleb Strong in June 1804 to the state's executive council, which served as the upper body of the legislature. Knox continued to play the role of a key advisor on state issues while he managed his property. Within weeks of his appointment, Knox received the shocking news that the sitting vice president of the United States had murdered Alexander Hamilton at a secluded spot along the Hudson River opposite New York City called Weehawken. During the Revolution, Knox had inspected that ground many times.
According to the New York Evening Post, Hamilton had crossed the river at seven in the morning on July 11, 1804, to meet Vice President Aaron Burr for a duel. Burr aimed deliberately, apparently to kill. His ball punctured Hamilton's body on the right side, causing him to lift involuntarily on his toes and turn to his left. Hamilton's pistol went off and sent a wild shot into the air. His wound was mortal and he died within minutes.
Upon learning of Hamilton's death, Knox broke down and cried inconsolably. Despite all the rivalry between the two men, a genuine affection endured. Their relationship had clearly been complex. They had shared the experience of war. Both had fought for a new constitution, both served in the nation's first administration and together strove to build the country. Both had been members of what Washington called "a band of brothers," and both had been in the intimate circle around Washington, who seemed to view both men as surrogate sons. Henry could remember the young Hamilton, whom he met during the heady days of 1776. At the time, Hamilton had been an ambitious captain in Knox's artillery corps, a soldier eager for glory and with a burning hunger to distinguish himself. Henry could remember Hamilton's bursting talent and infectious charm. He had cheered Hamilton's spectacular rise. Yet now the man who had shined so brilliantly was gone, and Knox mourned as if he had lost another brother.
The resiliency that Knox had shown throughout his life sustained him once again. Despite repeated blows to his optimism, he remained steadfastly sanguine over the future. He believed that his debts would soon be satisfied through his array of business ventures as well as from the sale of land, once the market for lots increased. Many settlers were moving into the area. Over the previous decade, the nation's population had exploded 35 percent to reach 5.3 million residents. Knox also began to consider another source of income. He believed that the supply of limestone on his property was endless and would someday reap a fortune. Although his early experiments with the stone had produced a lower-quality grade than he had hoped, he began to wonder if he should concentrate his efforts on excavating it and perfecting its processing. His belief was well founded. According to a geologist's report of the minerals in the community released three decades later, in 1838, more than $14 million of limestone lay less than twenty feet from the surface in the land around Thomaston. Marble was also found "in exhaustless abundance" along with granite of the highest quality in every color and shade needed for architecture. All these building materials could be easily transported by way of the river and its many inlets and bays. Demand for the valuable stone also appeared endless; markets stretched all along the Atlantic seacoast as far south as Havana. Even into the 1830s, the cost of transporting granite to New York did not exceed $2.50 a ton, while the stone sold for $7 a ton.6
As Knox accepted accolades and entered a tranquil period of his life, he contemplated his own mortality. To others, he expressed no doubts about the immortality of his soul. He considered his own significance, or insignificance, in a letter to his friend Samuel Breck, a Boston sail-maker, written early in 1806: "Years roll away, and soon we shall be numbered among those who have been atoms upon this atom of a globe and very soon after, it will be forgotten that we had here any existence. But this ought not in the least degree to cloud any of our present enjoyments, it being a condition of our nature.“7
In July, Knox made great strides toward settling his debts. On July 24, he parted with thousands of acres of land in Hancock and Lincoln counties for $203,870, the proceeds of which went to pay off a mortgage. He also satisfied his debts to lenders. Knox turned his attention to his limestone operations, estimating that he could produce 30,000 to 40,000 casks a year.
Prosperity, he believed, was right around the corner.
In October, as he prepared for a business trip to Boston, he sat down for a meal. A chicken bone became lodged in his throat, and an infection and swelling quickly set in. It was immediately clear that his condition was life threatening. Doctors worked frantically. His son reported that everything that could be tried was tried. All was in vain. Henry Knox died on October 25, 1806, at the age of fifty-five, and a remarkable life came to an unexpected, sudden close.
His death was a crushing blow to Lucy. Throughout the war, she had been tormented with the constant thought of losing Henry in battle. She had endured the deaths of nine of her twelve children. Now, with the loss of her closest friend and confidant, she would be forced to carry on all the responsibilities of the estate alone.
The funeral of Henry Knox took place at Montpelier on October 28. His life was celebrated with full military honors. An artillery company led the procession, which included a company of cavalry and infantry. His coffin was transported to a tomb at a spot Knox had chosen. The shaded piece of ground was under a large oak tree on the couple's estate. As the mourners gathered about the gravesite, a musketry volley was fired into the air and standards were lowered.
In Boston, the Columbian Centinel marked his passing by recalling his military service, praising his virtues, and expressing Knox's conviction that his financial prospects were improving: "To his merits as a military chief and public man were joined those qualities which conciliate affection and engage esteem in private intercourse, which made him the delight of his family and the promoter of social happiness in the circles in which he moved. The affairs of his fortune which for some years had been perplexed and difficult, had taken a course offering him pleasant anticipations."
Memorials were offered in praise of Knox's virtues, which seemed to leave a deeper impression on those who knew him than even his remarkable achievements. One of the men who knew Knox well and had witnessed him in battle was Dr. James Thacher, a military surgeon. In his recollection of Knox, he focused on personality traits.
Long will he be remembered as the ornament of every circle in which he moved, as the amiable and enlightened companion, the generous friend, the man of feeling and benevolence. His conversation was animated and cheerful, and he imparted an interest to every subject he touched. In his gayest moments, he never lost sight of dignity; he invited confidence, but repelled familiarity. His conceptions were lofty, and no man ever possessed the power of embodying his thoughts in more vigorous language: when ardently engaged, they were peculiarly bond and original, and you inevitably felt in his society that his intellect was not of the ordinary class; yet no man was more unassuming, none more delicately alive to the feelings of others.8
; In Knox's will, which had been notarized on November 26, 1802, he expressed his religious convictions in the preamble, a common practice of the time. He proclaimed: "First, I think it proper to express my unshaken opinion in the immortality of my soul, or mind, and to dedicate and devote the same to the Supreme Head of the Universe; to that great and tremendous Jehovah who created the universal frame of nature, worlds, and systems of worlds in numbers infinite, and who has given intellectual existence to his rational beings of each globe, who are perpetually migrating and ascending in the scale of mind according to certain principles always founded on the great basis of morality and virtue; to this sublime and awful Being do I resign my spirit, unlimited confidence in his mercy and protection.“9
At the time of his death, his home was valued at $100,000. This included the value of seven carriages and fifteen horses.
Knox had been driven since childhood to build a secure haven for his family. He wanted to be the stable rock that his father had never been for him. Yet his sudden death cut short his plans. His daughter Lucy would later point out that had her father "been permitted to attain the common age of man, the gradual rise in value of his property would have enabled him to realize all his anticipations.“10
Knox's wife, Lucy Knox, became reclusive after his death, content to allow people to remember her from happier days. She stayed at Montpelier in Maine. Her independent streak sustained her, but without the social graces of Henry, her friendships were limited to a few close intimates. She gained a reputation of possessing a violent temper. To satisfy creditors, she was forced to sell off much of the remaining estate and many of her valuable possessions.
She was unable to lean on her son, Henry Jackson Knox, whose erratic habits and struggles with alcohol left him unable to sustain a living. His marriage dissolved after a few years, and his wife went to live with her mother in Uxbridge, Massachusetts. Eventually Henry Jackson Knox became destitute. In 1809, Timothy Pickering reported to Ebenezer Stevens, a colonel in the artillery corps during the revolution, that the son of Henry Knox had the ignoble misfortune of being tossed into "Debtor Prison No. 2" in Boston. In a gesture that Pickering described as "pathetic," Henry J. made a personal appeal to him, asking if any money was due from his stint in the navy. This amounted to a mere $43.50. Harassed by creditors, he moved to Windsor, Vermont, in an effort to turn his life around.