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The Class of 1825’s Most Tragic Story
Jonathan Cilley was born at Nottingham, New Hampshire, in 1802. He was the son of Jane Neally and Greenleaf Cilley. His grandfather, Joseph Cilley, was a general during the Revolutionary War. Jonathan grew up in Nottingham along with three brothers and three sisters. For high school Cilley attended Atkinson Academy in New Hampshire, and then Phillips Exeter Academy. After finishing high school, Cilley wanted to attend college, but his financial situation presented an obstacle. His father passed away when Jonathan was six and, as one of seven children, Cilley received little inheritance. However, the young man was determined to find a way to earn a liberal arts education. He began to operate a country school in the winter months to earn money and when he was admitted to Bowdoin, the Executive Government allowed him use of the Fund for Indigent Students.
His financial situation sorted, Cilley moved to Brunswick in the fall of 1821. Riding to Maine, he shared a carriage with Nathaniel Hawthorne and Horatio Bridge, who became his best friends at Bowdoin. Cilley was unusual among his peers for having the same roommate, Jeremiah Dummer, all four years of college. Dummer and Cilley’s friendship extended from boarding at Mr. S. Owen’s to rooms in Maine and Winthrop Halls. Like most of his friends, Cilley was a member of the Athenean Society. Cilley was viewed by college officials as a poor influence. His friends were some of Bowdoin’s worst troublemakers and Cilley’s name often appeared alongside them in the executive government’s records of infractions. He was constantly fined for neglecting his work and missing prayers. Things got so bad during his junior year that the college cut him off from the indigent students fund. However, even this did not deter Cilley from his irresponsible behavior.
But even while Cilley was admonished for a lack of discipline, he was praised for his natural talents. He was a gifted public speaker, able to deliver an eloquent speech on any topic with minimal preparation. His classmates believed he was destined for politics, as he possessed a powerful combination of charisma and ambition. Despite his tendency to ignore his work, Cilley was asked to speak at Class Exhibitions his junior and senior years. At Commencement he was ranked ninth in the class with Nathaniel Dunn and the two participated in a deliberative discussion entitled, “The Effect of Fictitious Writings on Morale.”
After graduating from Bowdoin, Cilley moved to Thomaston, Maine, to study law under John Ruggles, a prominent judge and Maine politician. Cilley immediately began to pursue political affairs, to the detriment of his legal studies. Still, in 1829, he received a legal license and opened a practice in Thomaston. That same year he married Deborah Prince, the daughter of a Thomaston judge. The couple had four children in quick succession: Greenleaf, Jane, Bowdoin and Jonathan. Unfortunately, both Jane and Bowdoin died young. Cilley grieved deeply for the loss of his children, more than most of the men of his time. However, he channeled this grief into raising Greenleaf and Jonathan, who had great affection for their father. He built his family a fine house on Main Street in Thomaston. The family had a single rather disobedient cow and it was a common sight in Thomaston to see Cilley running through the village searching for the animal. In his free time, the lawyer enjoyed gardening and beekeeping.
Though Cilley had tragedy in his personal life, he found success in his political career. In 1832, he was elected to the Maine Legislature as a Democrat with the support of his mentor Ruggles. However, after this election, Ruggles turned on Cilley for mysterious reasons. When Cilley ran for re-election in 1833, Ruggles and many of Maine’s leading Democrats vehemently opposed him. They even tried to remove Cilley from the Democratic Party. Despite this, Cilley won his election and soon became the Speaker of Maine’s House. In 1837, Cilley fended off more political attacks and was elected as a U.S. Congressman. He enjoyed immediate popularity in Washington D.C. and had many friends and allies. However, he only served a year in Congress due to the tragic circumstances of his death.
In early 1838, Cilley gave a speech which implied a prominent newspaper editor had accepted a bribe. The editor learned of this speech and travelled to Washington D.C. to confront Cilley. Eventually, the editor met with a Kentucky Congressman named William Graves and convinced him to deliver a challenge for a duel to Cilley. Cilley refused to read the message, which wounded Graves’ honor and then he personally challenged Cilley to a duel. Though aware the context was ridiculous, Cilley felt that he had to accept the challenge to prove that “New England must not be trampled on.” The affair was further complicated because Graves’ second, a Virginia congressman named Henry Wise, was a sworn enemy of Cilley’s. Seconds are normally supposed to try and work out a resolution, but Wise is thought to have wanted Cilley to suffer. Everything came to a head on February 24, 1838, when Cilley, Graves, and Wise met on the outskirts of Washington D.C. The congressmen exchanged one round of shots, then two. Between each shot onlookers tried to negotiate a compromise but were shut down by Wise. Before the third round Cilley exclaimed, “They thirst for my blood.” Then, Graves’ shot hit Cilley and killed the Maine congressman.
Cilley’s death sent shockwaves throughout the United States. New Englanders viewed the killing as a personal attack against their region. Wise became instantly unpopular, though oddly Graves escaped most criticism. Within a few years, Cilley’s death engendered legislation to ban dueling. In Maine, Thomaston was devasted by the loss of their most prominent citizen. Cilley had also left behind a young family. Greenleaf was seven, Johnathan was just two, and Deborah was pregnant with a daughter, Julia, that Cilley never met. Gone at only 35, Cilley left behind one of the starkest legacies of any member of the Class of 1825.