Category: Non-chronological

To prepare his journals for future reading Gallison left many marginal notes, with additions, observations, and references to previous or subsequent entries being quite common.

One other interesting part of this manuscript preparation is his deletions. Broadly speaking, he left two kinds. One, transparent and frugal with ink, serves to delete an error that he didn’t want to forget completely. A blind alley in his work on Euclid and an unduly pessimistic theological note received that treatment in Volume A.

Present elsewhere are examples of the absolute obliteration. His intent was always that he should be the only reader of the journals. Nevertheless, context suggests that he occasionally left reports that might have been embarrassing to someone else were they to be discovered later. Those get a very different treatment, as what he gave to Uncle Sewall’s opinion in the summer of 1812. Federalists were talking increasingly openly about secession from the union, and Sewall or someone in his inner circle seems to have said something that would have led to censure after the War of 1812’s conclusion.

Anyone lacking the patience to read through Gallison’s journal in chronological order may enjoy these individual entries, which draw interest well beyond their place in any given year.

Volume A opens with Gallison’s telling of his ambitions for the journal. He began it in early 1807, in part to make up for deficiencies in his Harvard education that was due to finish that spring. Already, we see evidence of precocious learnedness, serious intent, and considerable narrative skill.

Only a few months later, Gallison’s expulsion from Harvard amounted to his first adult trauma. Lengthy reflection on the “Cabbage Rebellion” protesting against the quality of dining hall food crystallized both his conservative temperament and affection for Harvard. Unfortunately, he also decided— almost uniquely in his class— to honor his oath never to return unless all his classmates were forgiven. Harvard eventually found a face-saving way to bring him back into the fold, granting him an honorary master’s after it was clear that he would never accept the BA. But it was a long and hard trial for his conscience.

Next, we have two entries from the busy summer of 1812. The first airs out some arguments presented by Federalists who were happy to borrow Jeffersonian tactics– namely, threats of nullification and secession– to put a spoke in the wheel of the Madison administration as it prepared for war against Britain. Temperamental and cultural favor toward Britain (or, at least, opposition to Democratic-Republicans and France) led many politicians to abandon ideological positions when convenient.

The other entry records the town meeting at Faneuil Hall, called to discuss sending delegates to a convention. This was thoroughly reported in the newspapers, but Gallison provides detail only known to himself, and he catches the mood quite vividly. Fearing that an extra-legal convention might lead to dissolution of the Republic, Gallison was one of a few to vote against it, even while accepting the main Federalist point that the war was unwise. Walking a fine line between dissent and loyalty to a strong national government, he then joined a volunteer militia company. Unexpectedly, the eventual arrival of the Hartford Convention two years later caused him much less worry. By then, however, he knew that moderates would run the show and were not about to cause any real trouble.

From July 1817, we have the arrival of President Monroe in Boston. While some labeled this visit as the beginning of an Era of Good Feelings, Gallison and his spiritual mentor William Ellery Channing were not nearly so enthusiastic. When the President attended a service at the Federal Street Church as part of his charm offensive, Channing’s sermon made clear his disdain for those who sought unnecessary military glory– implicitly including the Democratic-Republican hawks who had led the United States into war against Britain just five years before. For his own part, Gallison did his best to avoid unnecessary contact when Monroe called upon the former Mrs John Hancock for old times’ sake.

Finally, for those seeking material unconnected to political strife, we have the story of a friend’s unsuccessful battle with manic depression, strung out over several years. Anyone interested in historical attitudes toward mental illnesses might find this useful.