levee. An occasion more respectable in simplicity, more imposing
in dignity, more affecting in the sensations which it awakened, the
ceremonials of rulers never exhibited. There were the great chiefs
of the republic of all parties and opinions; veterans of the War of
Independence, weather-stained and scarred; white-haired statesmen, who,
in retirement, were enjoying the fruits of former toil; there were
his executive counselors and private friends; ministers of foreign
governments, whose veneration approached that of his countrymen;
citizens who came to offer the tribute of a respect, sincere and
disinterested. Little was there of the pageantry of courts, little of
the glitter which attends the receptions of royalty, yet in the grave
assemblage that stood in that unadorned chamber there was a majesty
which these knew not. The dignitaries of a nation had come together to
bid farewell to one who, at their own free call, by their own
willing trust--not as an honor to be coveted, but as a duty to be
discharged--had, in turn, led their armies and executed their laws; one
who now, his last task worthily fulfilled, was to take his place again
among them, readier to relinquish than he had been to undertake power; a
soldier without stain upon his arms; a ruler without personal ambition;
a wise and upright statesman; a citizen of self-sacrificing patriotism;
a man pure, unblemished, and true in every relation he had filled; one
to whom all ages should point as the testimony that virtue and greatness
had been and could be united.
"And he who was the object of this gathering--what thoughts crowded upon
his mind; what recollections filled the vista of the sixty odd years
which had passed over him; what changes of men, opinions, society, had
he seen! Great changes, indeed, in the world and its old notions;
the growing dissatisfaction of certain English emigrants at customary
tyrannies and new intended ones had taken form and shape, embodied
itself into principles, and vindicated them; blazed up an alarming
beacon in the world's eyes as the Sacred Right of Rebellion; fought
battles; asserted independence and maintained it at much cost of
bloodshed; made governments after its own new-fangled fashion;
impressed a most unwilling idea on history--the doctrine of popular
sovereignty--one which had proved contagious and had been adopted
elsewhere, running riot indeed in its novelty. And out of all this
confusion there had arisen the nation which he had presided over,
already become great, and factious in its greatness, with a noble
birthright, noble virtues, energies, and intellect; with great faults
and passions that, unchecked, would, as in lusty individual manhood,
lead to its ruin.
"What was to be the future of that nation? Dark clouds hung over it,
dangers threatened it, enemies frowned upon it--the worst enemy was
within. License might blast, in a few hours, the growth of years;
faction destroy the careful work of the founders. On this he had left
his great solemn charge, like the last warning of a father to his
children."
The relation in which the secretaries had stood with the President had
been one of respectful but affectionate intimacy. The most cordial and
unreserved friendship was extended to all whom he trusted and esteemed.
The Secretaries of State and War (Pickering and McHenry) had been his
fellow-soldiers; the Secretary of the Treasury (Wolcott) had, as it
were, grown up under his eye. The simplicity and military frankness
of Pickering, the kindly nature and refinement of McHenry, the
warm-heartedness and _bonhommie_ of Wolcott, all won upon his regard. On
their part there was a no less sincere love for their chief. There are
those devotion to whom is no degradation. Washington was such a one, and
to him it was rendered in the spirit of men who respected themselves.
Among all connected with him, either in military or civil life, this
sentiment was retained. His death hallowed his memory in their hearts to
a degree and with a sanctity which none can know who have not heard from
their own lips--none can feel Who were not of them. And in likewise the
wife and family of Washington were cherished. They had been universally
beloved on their own account, and the hand of fate, in depriving them of
a husband and father, as it were, bequeathed them to the tender care of
a nation. There was something beautiful in these sentiments, in a land
where the ties that bind men depend so little upon association.
Wolcott, among others, had enjoyed much of the domestic society of the
President's house. His gentle and graceful wife had been regarded
with maternal tenderness by Mrs. Washington and was the friend and
correspondent of her eldest daughter. His child had been used to climb,
confident of welcome, the knees of the chief, and though so many years
his junior, while Wolcott's character and judgment had been held in
respect by the President, his personal and social qualities had drawn
toward him a warm degree of interest.
On leaving the seat of government, Washington presented, it is believed,
to all his chief officers some token of regard. To Wolcott he gave a
piece of plate. Mrs. Washington gave to his wife, when visiting her for
the last time, a relic still more interesting. Asking her if she did
not wish for a memorial of the general, Mrs. Wolcott replied, "Yes,"
she "should like a lock of his hair." Mrs. Washington, smiling, took Her
scissors and cut off for her a lock of her husband's and one of her own.
These, with the originals of Washington's letters, Wolcott preserved
with careful veneration and divided between his surviving children.
"On the retirement of General Washington," says Wolcott, "being desirous
that my personal interests should not embarrass his successor, and
supposing that some other person might be preferred to myself, I
tendered my resignation to Mr. Adams before his inauguration. The tender
was declined and I retained office under my former commission."
On the 1st of March (1797) Washington had addressed a note to the
Senate, desiring them to attend in their chamber on Saturday, the 4th,
at 10 o'clock, "to receive any communication which the President of
the United States might lay before them touching their interests."
In conformity with this summons the Senate assembled on that day and
commenced their thirteenth session. The oath of office was administered
by Mr. Bingham to Mr. Jefferson, who thereupon took the chair. The
new Senators were then sworn and the Vice-President delivered a brief
address. The Senate then repaired to the chamber of the House of
Representatives to attend the administration of the oath of office
to the new President. Mr. Adams entered, accompanied by the heads of
departments, [1] the marshal of the district and his officers, and took
his seat in the speaker's chair. The Vice-President and secretary of
the Senate were seated in advance on his right, and the late speaker
and clerk on the left; the justices of the Supreme Court sat before the
President, the foreign ministers and members of the House in their usual
seats. Washington, once more a private citizen, sat in front of the
judges. Mr. Adams then rose and delivered his inaugural speech. This
address was brief and well suited to the occasion. After adverting to
the circumstances which led to the formation of the new constitution, he
expressed the unqualified approbation with which, in a foreign land and
apart from the scene of controversy, he had first perused it, and the
undiminished confidence which, after eight years of experience, he
entertained of its fitness. He remarked briefly on the abuses to which
it was subject, and against which it became the duty of the people to
guard, and having disclosed his opinions of general policy, pledged
himself anew to the support of the government. The oath of office
was then administered by Chief Justice Ellsworth, the other justices
attending, after which he retired. [2]
The citizens of Philadelphia celebrated the day of Adams' inauguration
by a testimony of their respect and affection for Washington. They
prepared a magnificent entertainment, designed for him as the principal
guest, to which were invited the foreign ministers, the members of the
Cabinet, officers of the army and navy, and other distinguished persons.
In the rotunda in which it was given, an elegant compliment was prepared
for the principal guest, which is thus described in the papers of the
day:
"Upon entering the area, the general was conducted to his seat. On
a signal given music played Washington's march, and a scene which
represented simple objects in the rear of the principal seat was drawn
up and discovered emblematical painting.
"The principal was a female figure, large as life, representing America,
seated on an elevation composed of sixteen marble steps. At her left
side stood the Federal shield and eagle, and at her feet lay the
cornucopias, in her right hand she held the Indian calumet of peace
supporting the cap of liberty; in the perspective appeared the temple of
fame, and on her left hand an altar dedicated to public gratitude, upon
which incense was burning. In her left hand she held a scroll inscribed
Valedictory, and at the foot of the altar lay a plumed helmet and sword,
from which a figure of General Washington, large as life, appeared,
retiring down the steps, pointing with his right hand to the emblems of
power which he had resigned, and with his left to a beautiful landscape
representing Mount Vernon, in front of which oxen were seen harnessed
to the plough. Over the general appeared a Genius, placing a wreath of
laurels on his head."
After Washington had paid to his successor those respectful compliments
which he believed to be equally due to the man and to the office, he
hastened to that real felicity which awaited him at Mount Vernon, the
enjoyment of which he had long impatiently anticipated.
The same marks of respect and affection for his person which had on all
great occasions been manifested by his fellow-citizens, still attended
him. His endeavors to render his journey private were unavailing,
and the gentlemen of the country through which he passed, were still
ambitious of testifying their sentiments for the man who had, from the
birth of the Republic been deemed the first of American citizens. Long
after his retirement he continued to receive addresses from legislative
bodies and various classes of citizens, expressive of the high sense
entertained of his services.
"Notwithstanding the extraordinary popularity of the first President of
the United States," says Marshall, "scarcely has any important act of
his administration escaped the most bitter invective.
"On the real wisdom of the system which he pursued, every reader will
decide for himself. Time will, in some measure, dissipate the prejudices
and passions of the moment, and enable us to view objects through a
medium which represents them truly.
"Without taking a full review of measures which were reprobated by one
party and applauded by the other, the reader may be requested to glance
his eye at the situation of the United States in 1797, and to contrast
it with their condition in 1788.
"At home a sound credit had been created; an immense floating debt had
been funded in a manner perfectly satisfactory to the creditors; an
ample revenue had been provided; those difficulties which a system of
internal taxation, on its first introduction, is doomed to encounter,
were completely removed, and the authority of the government was
firmly established. Funds for the gradual payment of the debt had been
provided; a considerable part of it had been actually discharged,
and that system which is now operating its entire extinction had been
matured and adopted. The agricultural and commercial wealth of the
nation had increased beyond all former example. The numerous tribes of
warlike Indians, inhabiting those immense tracts which lie between the
then cultivated country of the Mississippi, had been taught, by arms and
by justice, to respect the United States and to continue in peace.
This desirable object having been accomplished, that humane system was
established for civilizing and furnishing them with the conveniences of
life, which improves their condition, while it secures their attachment.
"Abroad, the differences with Spain had been accommodated, and the free
navigation of the Mississippi had been acquired, with the use of New
Orleans as a place of deposit for three years, and afterward, until
some other equivalent place should be designated. Those causes of mutual
exasperation which had threatened to involve the United States in a war
with the greatest maritime and commercial power in the world, had been
removed, and the military posts which had been occupied within their
territory, from their existence as a nation, had been evacuated.
Treaties had been formed with Algiers and with Tripoli, and no captures
appear to have been made by Tunis, so that the Mediterranean was opened
to American vessels.
"This bright prospect was indeed, in part, shaded by the discontents of
France. Those who have attended to the particular points of difference
between the two nations will assign the causes to which these
discontents are to be ascribed, and will judge whether it was in the
power of the President to have avoided them without surrendering
the real independence of the nation and the most invaluable of all
rights--the right of self-government."
Such was the situation of the United States at the close of Washington's
administration. Their circumstances at its commencement will be
recollected, and the contrast is too striking not to be observed. That
this beneficial change in the affairs of America is to be ascribed
exclusively to the wisdom which guided the national councils will not be
pretended. That many of the causes which produced it originated with the
government, and that their successful operation was facilitated, if not
secured, by the system which was adopted, will scarcely be denied. To
estimate that system correctly, their real influence must be allowed
to those strong prejudices and turbulent passions with which it was
assailed.
Accustomed, in the early part of his life, to agricultural pursuits,
and possessing a real taste for them, Washington was particularly well
qualified to enjoy, in retirement, that tranquil felicity which he
had anticipated. Resuming former habits, and returning to ancient and
well-known employments, he was familiar with his new situation, and
therefore exempt from the danger of that disappointment which is the
common lot of those who, in old age, retire from the toils of business,
or the cares of office, to the untried pleasures of the country. A large
estate, which exhibited many proofs of having been long deprived of the
attentions of its proprietor in the management and improvement of which
he engaged with ardor, an extensive correspondence, and the society of
men and books, gave employment to every hour which was equally innocent
and interesting, and furnished ground for the hope that the evening of a
life which had been devoted to the public service, would be as serene as
its midday had been brilliant.
In his journey from Philadelphia to Mount Vernon Washington was
accompanied by Mrs. Washington, Miss Custis, George Washington
Lafayette, eldest son of the general, and M. Frestel, young Lafayette's
tutor.
Writing to Mr. McHenry, Secretary of War, from Mount Vernon, April 3,
1797, he thus describes His return home and his situation there:
"We got home without accident and found the roads dryer and better than
I ever found them at that season of the year. The attentions we met
with on our journey were very flattering, and, to some, whose minds are
differently formed from mine, would have been highly relished; but I
avoided, in every instance, where I had any previous knowledge of the
intention, and could by earnest entreaties prevail, all parade and
escorts. Mrs. Washington took a violent cold in Philadelphia, which
hangs upon her still, but it is not as bad as it has been. [3]
"I find myself in the situation nearly of a new beginner, for, although
I have not houses to build (except one, which I must erect for the
accommodation and security of my military, civil, and private papers,
which are voluminous, and may be interesting), yet I have scarcely
anything else about me that does not require considerable repairs. In
a word, I am already surrounded by joiners, masons, and painters, and,
such is my anxiety to get out of their hands, that I have scarcely
a room to put a friend into or to sit in myself without the music of
hammers or the odoriferous scent of paint."
To Mr. Wolcott, Secretary of the Treasury, he writes:
"For myself, having turned aside from the broad walks of political into
the narrow paths of private life, I shall leave it with those whose
duty it is to consider subjects of this sort, and, as every good citizen
ought to do, conform to whatsoever the ruling powers shall decide. To
make and sell a little flour annually, to repair houses (going fast to
ruin), to build one for the security of my papers of a public nature,
and to amuse myself in agricultural and rural pursuits, will constitute
employment for the few years I have to remain on this terrestrial globe.
If, also, I could now and then meet the friends I esteem, it would fill
the measure and add zest to my enjoyments; but, if ever this happens,
it must be under my own vine and fig-tree, as I do not think it probable
that I shall go beyond twenty miles from them."
To another correspondent he repeats the same interesting sentiments, in
reference to his retirement and the happiness he found in it:
"Retired from noise myself, and the responsibility attached to public
employment, my hours will glide smoothly on. My best wishes, however,
for the prosperity of our country will always have the first place in
my thoughts; while to repair buildings and to cultivate my farms, which
require close attention, will occupy the few years, perhaps days, I
may be a sojourner here, as I am now in the sixty-sixth year of my
peregrination through life."
In a letter to Mr. McHenry, May 29th, he says: "I begin my diurnal
course with the sun; if my hirelings are not in their places at that
time, I send them messages of sorrow for their indisposition; having put
these wheels in motion, I examine the state of things further. The more
they are probed the deeper I find the wounds which my buildings have
sustained by an absence and neglect of eight years; by the time I have
accomplished these matters, breakfast (a little after 7 o'clock) is
ready; this being over, I mount my horse and ride round my farms, which
employs me until it is time to dress for dinner, at which I rarely miss
seeing strange faces--come, as they say, out of respect for me. Pray,
would not the word curiosity answer as well? And how different this
from having a few social friends at a cheerful board! The usual time
of setting at table, a walk, and tea bring me within the dawn of
candle-light, previous to which, if not prevented by company, I resolve
that, as soon as the glimmering taper supplies the place of the great
luminary, I will retire to my writing table and acknowledge the letters
I have received; but, when the lights are brought, I feel tired and
disinclined to engage in this work, conceiving that the next night
will do as well. The next night comes, and with it, the same causes for
postponement, and so on.
"This will account for your letter remaining so long unacknowledged;
and, having given you the history of a day, it will serve for a year,
and I am persuaded you will not require a second edition of it. But it
may strike you, that in this detail no mention is made of any portion
of time allotted for reading. The remark would be just, for I have not
looked into a book since I came home; nor shall I be able to do it
until I have discharged my workmen, probably not before the nights grow
longer, when, possibly, I may be looking in Doomsday Book. At present I
shall only add, that I am always and affectionately yours."
The celebrated Mr. (afterward Lord) Erskine, having sent Washington a
copy of his "View of the Causes and Consequences of the Present War with
France," he acknowledged it in a letter, of which the following is a
part:
"To have so conducted my steps in the intricate walks of public life,
and through a long course, as to meet the approbation of my country and
the esteem of good men, is, next to the consciousness of having acted in
all things from my best judgment, the highest gratification of which my
mind is susceptible, and will, during the remainder of a life which is
hastening to an end, and in moments of retirement better adapted to
calm reflection than I have hitherto experienced, alleviate the pain and
soften any cares, which are yet to be encountered, though hid from me at
the present.
"For me to express my sentiments with respect to the administration
of the concerns of another government might incur a charge of stepping
beyond the line of prudence; but the principles of humanity will justify
an avowal of my regret, and I do regret exceedingly, that any causes
whatever should have produced and continued until this time, a war, more
bloody, more expensive, more calamitous, and more pregnant with events
than modern, or perhaps any other times can furnish an example of. And
I most sincerely and devoutly wish that your exertions, and those of
others having the same object in view, may effect what human nature
cries aloud for, a general peace." [4]
His correspondence with the Earl of Radnor shows the estimation in which
he was held abroad, and also illustrates his situation and feelings at
the time.
"_To General Washington._
"SIR.--Though of necessity a stranger to you, I cannot deny myself the
satisfaction, among the many who will, probably, even from this country,
intrude upon your retirement, of offering to you my congratulations
on your withdrawing yourself from the scene of public affairs, with
a character which appears to be perfectly unrivalled in history. The
voluntary resignation of authority, wielded, as it was, while you
thought fit to yield it, for the advantage of your country, in the
universal opinion of mankind, confirms the judgment I had presumed to
form of your moderation, and completes the glory of your life.
"Permit me, sir, who, enlisted in no political party, have, as a public
man, looked up to you with veneration; who have seen the beginning of
your career against England with approbation, because I felt England
was unjust; who have seen you discontinue your hostility toward England,
when, in good faith, she was no longer acting as an enemy to America,
by honest counsels endeavoring to be as closely connected with amity,
as she is by natural and mutual interests; who have seen you the
instrument, in the hand of Providence, of wresting from the British
Parliament an influence destructive of the just rights of both countries
and of establishing the independence of America, which, I am persuaded,
will continually, if your principles and your wisdom shall actuate your
successors, be the means of securing them respectively to us both; who
have seen you, in adversity and prosperity alike, the good, the firm,
the moderate, the disinterested patriot; permit me, I say, as an
Englishman and as a man, to rejoice at the completion of such a
character, and to offer my unfeigned wishes for a peaceful evening
of your life and the realization (as is my sincere belief) of your
posthumous fame and your eternal happiness.
"I have the honor to subscribe myself, etc.,
"RADNOR.
"LONGFORD CASTLE, _January_ 19, 1797."
The following is Washington's reply:
"MY LORD.--The sentiments which your lordship has been pleased to
express, in your favor of the 19th of January last, relative to my
public conduct, do me great honor, and I pray you to accept my grateful
acknowledgment of the unequivocal evidence, conveyed in your letter, of
the favorable opinion you entertain of the principles by which it was
actuated.
"For having performed duties which I conceive every country has a right
to require of its citizens, I claim no merit; but no man can feel more
sensibly the reward of approbation for such services than I do. Next to
the consciousness of having acted faithfully in discharging the several
trusts to which I have been called, the thanks of one's country and the
esteem of good men are the highest gratification my mind is susceptible
of.
"At the age of sixty-five, I am now recommencing my agricultural and
rural pursuits, which were always more congenial to my temper
and disposition than the noise and bustle of public employments,
notwithstanding so small a portion of my life has been engaged in the
former.
"I reciprocate, with great cordiality, the good wishes you have been
pleased to bestow on me, and pray devoutly that we may both witness,
and that shortly, the return of peace; for a more bloody, expensive,
and eventful war is not recorded in modern, if to be found in ancient
history."
Before leaving the subject of Washington's European reputation it is
proper to quote the remarks made by the celebrated orator and statesman,
Charles James Fox, in the British Parliament, January 31, 1794. It was
in reference to Washington's communications to Congress at the opening
of the session, December 3, 1793:
"And here, sir, I cannot help alluding to the President of the United
States, General Washington, a character whose conduct has been so
different from that which has been pursued by the ministers of this
country. How infinitely wiser must appear the spirit and principles
manifested in his late address to Congress than the policy of modern
European courts! Illustrious man, deriving honor less from the splendor
of his situation than from the dignity of his mind; before whom all
borrowed greatness sinks into insignificance, and all the potentates of
Europe (excepting the members of our own royal family) become little and
contemptible. He has had no occasion to have recourse to any tricks of
policy or arts of alarm; his authority has been sufficiently supported
by the same means by which it was acquired, and his conduct has
uniformly been characterized by wisdom, moderation, and firmness.
Feeling gratitude to France for the assistance received from her in
that great contest which secured the independence of America, he did not
choose to give up the system of neutrality. Having once laid down that
line of conduct which both gratitude and policy pointed out as most
proper to be pursued, not all the insults and provocation of the French
minister, Genet, could turn him from his purpose. Entrusted with the
welfare of a great people, he did not allow the misconduct of another,
with respect to himself, for one moment to withdraw his attention from
their interest. He had no fear of the Jacobins; he felt no alarm from
their principles, and considered no precaution necessary in order to
stop their progress.
"The people over whom he presided he knew to be acquainted with their
rights and their duties. He trusted to their own good sense to defeat
the effect of those arts which might be employed to inflame or mislead
their minds, and was sensible that a government could be in no
danger while it retained the attachment and confidence of its
subjects--attachment, in this instance, not blindly adopted; confidence
not implicitly given, but arising from the conviction of its excellence
and the experience of its blessings. I cannot, indeed, help admiring the
wisdom and fortune of this great man. By the phrase 'fortune,' I
mean not in the smallest degree to derogate from his merit. But
notwithstanding his extraordinary talents and exalted integrity, it must
be considered as singularly fortunate that he should have experienced
a lot which so seldom falls to the portion of humanity, and have passed
through such a variety of scenes without stain and without reproach.
It must, indeed, create astonishment, that, placed in circumstances so
critical, and filling for a series of years, a station so conspicuous,
his character should never once have been called in question; that he
should in no one instance have been accused either of improper insolence
or mean submission in his transactions with foreign nations. For him
it has been reserved to run the race of glory, without experiencing the
smallest interruption to the brilliancy of his career."
1. Footnote: All the Cabinet officers of Washington were retained by
Mr. Adams, viz.: Timothy Pickering, Secretary of State; James McHenry,
Secretary of War; Oliver Wolcott, Secretary of the Treasury, and Charles
Lee, Attorney-General. The navy department was not organized till 1798.
2. Footnote: Gibbs, "Administrations of Washington and John Adams."
3. Footnote: The following extract is from a Baltimore paper, dated
March 13th: "Last evening arrived in this city, on his way to Mount
Vernon, the illustrious object of veneration and gratitude, George
Washington. His Excellency was accompanied by his lady and Miss Custis,
and by the son of the unfortunate Lafayette and his preceptor. At a
distance from the city, he was met by a crowd of citizens, on horse
and foot, who thronged the road to greet him, and by a detachment from
Captain Hollingsworth's troop, who escorted him in through as great a
concourse of people as Baltimore ever witnessed. On alighting at the
Fountain Inn, the general was saluted with reiterated and thundering
huzzas from the spectators. His Excellency, with the companions of his
journey, leaves town, we understand, this morning."
4. Footnote: Erskine's opinion of Washington is thus expressed in his
letter, dated London, March 15, 1795: "I have taken the liberty," he
writes, "to introduce your august and immortal name in a short sentence,
which will be found in the book I send you. I have a large acquaintance
among the most valuable and exalted classes of men; but you are the only
human being for whom I ever felt an awful reverence. I sincerely pray
God to grant a long and serene evening to a life so gloriously devoted
to the universal happiness of the world.
"T. ERSKINE."
CHAPTER XII.
WASHINGTON APPOINTED LIEUTENANT-GENERAL. 1797-1798.
We have mentioned, incidentally, that George Washington Motier
de Lafayette, the son of the general, with his tutor, M. Frestel,
accompanied Washington on his journey from Philadelphia to Mount Vernon.
When the wife and daughters of Lafayette left France to join him in the
prison of Olmutz his son came to the United States. He arrived at Boston
in the summer of 1795, with his tutor, and had immediately written to
Washington to apprise him of his arrival. The letter was received just
as he was leaving Philadelphia for Mount Vernon. Washington would have
been delighted to receive him immediately into his family, but this
was forbidden by political considerations of great weight. He therefore
wrote to George Cabot, of Boston, desiring him to assure the young man
of his friendship and protection, and recommending that he should be
entered as a student at Harvard University, Cambridge, and offering to
defray the expenses of his education there. This was declined, however,
on account of the different course of study which he was pursuing under
the tuition of M. Frestel, and George went to take up his residence with
M. Lacolombe, [1] in a country-house near New York. In November, 1795,
Washington wrote to young Lafayette and his tutor, assuring the former
of his paternal regard and support, and desiring him to repair to
Colonel Hamilton in New York. On the 18th of March, 1796, the following
resolution, and order were passed by the House of Representatives in
Congress:
"Information having been given to this House that a son of General
Lafayette is now within the United States;
"_Resolved_, That a committee be appointed to inquire into the truth of
the said information and report thereon, and what measures it would
be proper to take, if the same be true, to evince the grateful sense
entertained by this country for the services of his father.
"_Ordered_, That Mr. Livingston, Mr. Sherburne, and Mr. Murray be
appointed a committee pursuant to the said resolution."
As chairman of this committee, Mr. Livingston wrote to young Lafayette
as follows:
"SIR.--Actuated by motives of gratitude to your father, and eager
to seize every opportunity of showing their sense of his important
services, the House of Representatives have passed the resolution which
I have the pleasure to communicate. The committee being directed to
inquire into the fact of your arrival within the United States,
permit me to advise your immediate appearance at this place, that the
Legislature of America may no longer be in doubt whether the son of
Lafayette is under their protection and within the reach of their
gratitude.
"I presume to give this advice as an individual personally attached to
your father, and very solicitous to be useful to any person in whose
happiness he is interested. If I should have that good fortune on this
occasion, it will afford me the greatest satisfaction.
"I am, &c.,
"EDWARD LIVINGSTON."
On receiving this letter, young Lafayette wrote to Washington, enclosing
the resolution and the letter of Mr. Livingston, and asking his
advice relative to the course which he should pursue. The following is
Washington's answer:
"Your letter of the 28th instant was received yesterday. The enclosures
which accompanied it evidence much discretion, and your conduct therein
meets my entire approbation.
"In the early part of this month I put a letter into the hands of
Colonel Hamilton, inviting you to this place, and expected, until your
letter of the above date was received, to have embraced you under my own
roof tomorrow or next day.
"As the period for this seems to be more distant, from the purport of
your inquiries, I again repeat my former request, and wish that, without
delay, you and M. Frestel would proceed immediately to this city and to
my house, where a room is prepared for you and him.
"Under expectation of your doing this, it is as unnecessary as it might
be improper to go more into detail until I have the pleasure of seeing
you and of rendering every service in my power to the son of my friend,
for whom I have always entertained the purest affection, which is too
strong not to extend itself to you. Therefore believe me to be, as I
really am, sincerely and affectionately yours, &c."
From this time (March, 1796) to April, 1797, when he journeyed with
Washington to Mount Vernon, young Lafayette resided with him in
Philadelphia. Writing to General Dumas (June 24, 1797) from Mount
Vernon, Washington, after expressing an ardent wish for the restoration
of General Lafayette to liberty, says: "His son and M. Frestel, who
appears to have been his mentor, are, and have been, residents in my
family since their arrival in this country, except in the first moments
of it; and a modest, sensible, well-disposed youth he is."
In October, 1797, intelligence of the liberation of General Lafayette
from his Austrian prison having been received, his son hastened to meet
him in France. He sailed with M. Frestel from New York, on the 26th of
October, bearing the following letter from Washington to his father: [2]
"This letter, I hope and expect, will be presented to you by your son,
who is highly deserving of such parents as you and your amiable lady.
"He can relate much better than I can describe my participation in
your sufferings, my solicitude for your relief, the measures I adopted,
though ineffectual, to facilitate your liberation from an unjust
and cruel imprisonment, and the joy I experienced at the news of its
accomplishment. I shall hasten, therefore, to congratulate you, and be
assured that no one can do it with more cordiality, with more sincerity,
or with greater affection, on the restoration of that liberty which
every act of your life entitles you to the enjoyment of; and I hope
I may add, to the uninterrupted possession of your estates and the
confidence of your country. The repossession of these things, though
they cannot compensate for the hardships you have endured, may
nevertheless soften the painful remembrance of them.
"From the delicate and responsible situation in which I stood as a
public officer, but more especially from a misconception of the manner
in which your son had left France, till explained to me in a personal
interview with himself, he did not come immediately into my family on
his arrival in America, though he was assured in the first moments of it
of my protection and support. His conduct, since he first set his feet
on American ground, has been exemplary in every point of view, such as
has gained him the esteem, affection, and confidence of all who have had
the pleasure of his acquaintance. His filial affection and duty and his
ardent desire to embrace his parents and sisters, in the first moments
of their release, would not allow him to wait the authentic account
of this much-desired event; but, at the same time that I suggested the
propriety of this, I could not withhold my assent to the gratification
of his wishes to fly to the arms of those whom he holds most dear,
persuaded as he is, from the information he has received, that he shall
find you all in Paris.
"M. Frestel has been a true mentor to George. No parent could have been
more attentive to a favorite son, and he richly merits all that can be
said of his virtues, of his good sense, and of his prudence. Both your
son and he carry with them the vows and regrets of this family and all
who know them. And you may be assured that yourself never stood higher
in the affections of the people of this country than at the present
moment.
"Having bid a final adieu to the walks of public life, and meaning
to withdraw myself from politics, I shall refer you to M. Frestel
and George, who, at the same time that they have, from prudential
considerations, avoided all interference in the politics of the country,
cannot have been inattentive observers of what was passing among us, to
give you a general view of our situation, and of the party which, in
my opinion, has disturbed the peace and tranquility of it. And with
sentiments of the highest regard for you, your lady, and daughters, and
with assurances that, if inclination or events should induce you or any
of them to visit America, no person in it would receive you with more
cordiality and affection than Mrs. Washington and myself, both of us
being most sincerely and affectionately attached to you, and admirers of
them."
Devoted as Washington, in his retirement, was to his favorite pursuit
of agriculture, he nevertheless took a lively interest in the political
affairs of the country. In the events which were now passing he found
cause for considerable anxiety. The conduct of the French Directory
still indicated a persistence in their favorite policy of detaching
the people of the United States from the support of the executive, and
effecting a revolution in the government. Their treatment of General
Pinckney, the minister sent to France by Washington, fully disclosed
their views and intentions. After inspecting General Pinckney's letter
of credence, the Directory announced to him their determination "not to
receive another minister plenipotentiary from the United States until
after the redress of grievances demanded of the American government,
which the French republic had a right to expect from it." This message
was succeeded, first by indecorous verbal communications, calculated to
force the American minister out of France, and afterward, by a written
mandate to quit the territories of the republic.
This act of hostility was accompanied with another, which would explain
the motives for this conduct, if previous measures had not rendered all
further explanation unnecessary.
On giving to the recalled minister his audience of leave, the President
of the Directory addressed a speech to him, in which terms of outrage to
the government were mingled with expressions of affection for the people
of the United States, and the expectation of ruling the former, by
their influence over the latter, was too clearly manifested not to be
understood. To complete this system of hostility, American vessels
were captured wherever found, and, under the pretext of their wanting
a document, with which the treaty of commerce had been uniformly
understood to dispense, they were condemned as prize.
This serious state of things demanded a solemn consideration. On
receiving from General Pinckney the dispatches which communicated it,
President Adams issued his proclamation requiring Congress to meet on
the 15th day of May. The speech delivered by him at the commencement of
the session showed that the insults of the French Directory were deeply
resented. He said: "The speech of the President discloses sentiments
more alarming than the refusal of a minister, because more dangerous
to our independence and union, and, at the same time, studiously marked
with indignities toward the government of the United States. It evinces
a disposition to separate the people from their government; to persuade
them that they have different affections, principles, and interests
from those of their fellow-citizens whom they themselves have chosen to
manage their common concerns; and thus to produce divisions fatal to our
peace. Such attempts ought to be repelled with a decision which shall
convince France, and the world, that we are not a degraded people,
humiliated under a colonial spirit of fear and sense of inferiority,
fitted to be the miserable instruments of foreign influence, and
regardless of national honor, character, and interest. Retaining
still the desire which had uniformly been manifested by the American
government to preserve peace and friendship with all nations, and
believing that neither the honor nor the interest of the United States
absolutely forbade the repetition of advances for securing these
desirable objects with France, he should," he said, "institute a fresh
attempt at negotiation, and should not fail to promote and accelerate
an accommodation on terms compatible with the rights, duties, interests,
and honor of the nation." But while he should be making these endeavors
to adjust all differences with the French republic by amicable
negotiation, he earnestly recommended it to Congress to provide
effectual measures of defense.
The drawing up an answer to this speech of President Adams occasioned a
full fortnight's debate in the House of Representatives, but at length
a reply, correspondent to the President's tone and views, was carried by
51 or 52 voices against 48. This showed the balance of parties, proved
that Adams still kept the ascendency, however small, that Washington
had done, and that the dread of democratic violence prevailed over the
suspicions endeavored to be awakened of monarchism and an arbitrary
executive. This feeling was, no doubt, strengthened greatly by refugees
from St. Domingo, who related the dire effects which democratic acts
had produced in that island. France, however, was never more formidable.
Tidings of her victories poured in, whilst those of England told of bank
payments suspended, a mutiny in the fleet, and the abandonment of her
best continental ally.
To carry into effect the pacific dispositions avowed by President
Adams in his speech, he appointed three envoys to the French Directory.
General Pinckney, who was still residing in Europe, was placed at the
head of the mission. Gen. John Marshall, afterward chief justice, a
sturdy Federalist, and Elbridge Gerry, an anti-Federalist, but a strong
personal friend and favorite of the President, were joined with Pinckney
in the mission. They were instructed to endeavor to procure peace and
reconciliation by all means compatible with the honor and faith of
the United States, but no national engagements were to be impaired,
no innovation to be permitted upon those internal regulations for
the preservation of peace which had been deliberately and uprightly
established, nor were the rights of the government to be surrendered. On
their arrival in France the envoys saw M. Talleyrand, the Minister for
Foreign Affairs, but were informed that they could not be received by
the Directory. They had permission to remain in Paris, however, and the
agents of M. de Talleyrand--a female amongst others were employed to
negotiate with them. The true difficulty in the way of accommodation,
in addition to the impertinent arrogance of the Directory, seemed to be
that Merlin and others received a great part of the gains accruing from
American prizes made by the French. In order to counteract this gold in
one hand by gold in the other, Talleyrand demanded a douceur of £50,000
for himself and chiefs, besides a loan to be afterward made from America
to France. To extract these conditions, every argument that meanness
could suggest was employed by Talleyrand; he demanded to be fed as a
lawyer or bribed as a friend. But the Americans were inexorable, and two
of their number, Pinckney and Marshall, returned to announce to their
countrymen the terms on which peace was offered. The cupidity of the
French government completely turned against it the tide of popular
feeling in America. "Millions for defense, not a cent for tribute," was
instantly the general cry. The President felt his hands strengthened by
the demands of the French. Certainly, never did minister show himself
less sagacious than M. de Talleyrand in this affair, or more ignorant of
the spirit and manners of a nation amongst whom he had resided.
In Congress (May, 1798), vigorous measures were adopted for placing the
country in a state of defense against impending hostilities from one of
the most powerful nations of the world. Among these was a regular army.
A regiment of artillerists and engineers was added to the permanent
establishment, and the President was authorized to raise twelve
additional regiments of infantry and one regiment of cavalry to serve
during the continuance of the existing differences with the French
republic, if not sooner discharged. He was also authorized to appoint
officers for a provisional army and to receive and organize volunteer
corps who should be exempt from ordinary militia duty, but neither the
volunteers nor the officers of the provisional army were to receive pay
unless called into actual service.
Addresses to the executive from every part of the United States attested
the high spirit of the nation, and the answers of President Adams were
well calculated to give it solidity and duration.
No sooner had a war become probable, to the perils of which no man could
be insensible, than the eyes of all were directed to Washington, as the
person who should command the American army. He alone could be seen at
the head of a great military force without exciting jealousy; he alone
could draw into public service and arrange properly the best military
talents of the nation, and he, more than any other, could induce the
utmost exertion of its physical strength. Indignant at the unprovoked
injuries which had been heaped upon his country, and convinced that the
conflict, should a war be really prosecuted by France with a view to
conquest, would be extremely severe and could be supported, on the part
of America, only by a persevering exertion of all her force, he could
not determine, should such a crisis arrive, to withhold those aids which
it might be in his power to afford, should public opinion really attach
to his services that importance which would render them essential. His
own reflections appear to have resulted in a determination not to refuse
once more to take the field, provided he could be permitted to secure
efficient aid by naming the chief officers of the army, and to remain
at home until his service in the field should be required by actual
invasion. [3]
A confidential and interesting letter from Colonel Hamilton of the 19th
of May, on political subjects, concludes with saying: "You ought also to
be aware, my dear sir, that in the event of an open rupture with France
the public voice will again call you to command the armies of your
country, and though all who are attached to you will, from attachment as
well as public consideration, deplore an occasion which should once more
tear you from that repose to which you have so good a right, yet it is
the opinion of all those with whom I converse that you will be compelled
to make the sacrifice. All your past labors may demand, to give them
efficacy, this further, this very great sacrifice."
"You may be assured," said Washington in reply, "that my mind is deeply
impressed with the present situation of public affairs and not a little
agitated by the outrageous conduct of France toward the United States,
and at the inimitable conduct of those partisans who aid and abet her
measures. You may believe further, from assurances equally sincere, that
if there was anything in my power to be done consistently to avert or
lessen the danger of the crisis, it should be rendered with hand and
heart."
"But, my dear sir, dark as matters appear at present, and expedient as
it is to be prepared for the worst that can happen (and no man is more
disposed to this measure than I am), I cannot make up my mind yet
for the expectation of open war; or, in other words, for a formidable
invasion by France. I cannot believe, although I think her capable of
anything, that she will attempt to do more than she has done. When she
perceives the spirit and policy of this country rising into resistance,
and that she has falsely calculated upon support from a large part of
the people to promote her views and influence in it, she will desist
ever from those practices, unless unexpected events in Europe or the
acquisition of Louisiana and the Floridas should induce her to continue
them. And I believe further, that, although the leaders of their party
in this country will not change their sentiments, they will be obliged
to change their plan or the mode of carrying it on. The effervescence
which is appearing in all quarters, and the desertion of their
followers, will frown them into silence--at least for a while.
"If I did not view things in this light my mind would be infinitely more
disquieted than it is, for, if a crisis should arrive when a sense of
duty or a call from my country should become so imperious as to leave
me no choice, I should prepare for relinquishment and go with as much
reluctance from my present peaceful abode as I should go to the tombs of
my ancestors."
The opinion that prudence required preparations for open war and that
Washington must once more be placed at the head of the American armies
strengthened every day, and on the 22d of June President Adams addressed
him a letter in which that subject was thus alluded to.
"In forming an army, whenever I must come to that extremity I am at an
immense loss whether to call out the old generals or to appoint a young
set. If the French come here we must learn to march with a quick step
and to attack, for in that way only they are said to be vulnerable. I
must tax you sometimes for advice. We must have your name, if you will
in any case permit us to use it. There will be more efficacy in it than
in many an army."
A letter from McHenry, the Secretary of War, written four days
afterward, concludes with asking: "May we flatter ourselves that, in
a crisis so awful and important you will accept the command of all our
armies? I hope you will, because you alone can unite all hearts and all
hands, if it is possible that they can be united."
These letters reached Washington on the same day. The following
extract from his reply to the President will exhibit the course of his
reflections relative to his appearance once more at the head of the
American armies:
"At the epoch of my retirement an invasion of these States by an
European power, or even the probability of such an event in my days,
was so far from being contemplated by me that I had no conception either
that or any other occurrence would arise in so short a period which
could turn my eyes from the shades of Mount Vernon. But this seems to
be the age of wonders. And it is reserved for intoxicated and lawless
France (for purposes of Providence far beyond the reach of human ken)
to slaughter her own citizens and to disturb the repose of all the world
besides. From a view of the past--from the prospect of the present--and
of that which seems to be expected, it is not easy for me to decide
satisfactorily on the part it might best become me to act. In case of
actual invasion by a formidable force I certainly should not entrench
myself under the cover of age and retirement, if my services should be
required by my country to assist in repelling it. And if there be good
cause to expect such an event, which certainly must be better known to
the government than to private citizens, delay in preparing for it
may be dangerous, improper, and not to be justified by prudence.
The uncertainty, however, of the latter, in my mind, creates my
embarrassment, for I cannot bring it to believe, regardless as the
French are of treaties and of the laws of nation, and capable as I
conceive them to be of any species of despotism and injustice, that they
will attempt to invade this country after such a uniform and unequivocal
expression of the determination of the people in all parts to oppose
them with their lives and fortunes. That they have been led to believe
by their agents and partisans among us that we are a divided people,
that the latter are opposed to their own government, and that the show
of a small force would occasion a revolt, I have no doubt; and how far
these men (grown desperate) will further attempt to deceive, and may
succeed in keeping up the deception, is problematical. Without that,
the folly of the Directory in such an attempt would, I conceive, be more
conspicuous, if possible, than their wickedness."
"Having with candor made this disclosure of the state of my mind, it
remains only for me to add that to those who know me best it is best
known that, should imperious circumstances induce me to exchange once
more the smooth paths of retirement for the thorny ways of public life,
at a period too when repose is more congenial to nature, it would
be productive of sensations which can be more easily conceived than
expressed."
His letter to the Secretary of War was more detailed and more explicit.
"It cannot," he said, "be necessary for me to premise to you or
to others who know my sentiments; that to quit the tranquility of
retirement, and enter the boundless field of responsibility, would be
productive of sensations which a better pen than I possess would find it
difficult to describe. Nevertheless, the principle by which my conduct
has been actuated through life would not suffer me, in any great
emergency, to withhold any services I could render when required by my
country--especially in a case where its dearest rights are assailed by
lawless ambition and intoxicated power, in contempt of every principle
of justice, and in violation of a solemn compact and of laws which
govern all civilized nations--and this too with the obvious intent
to sow thick the seeds of disunion for the purpose of subjugating our
government and destroying our independence and happiness.
"Under circumstances like these, accompanied by an actual invasion of
our territory, it would be difficult for me, at any time, to remain an
idle spectator, under the plea of age or retirement. With sorrow, it is
true, I should quit the shades of my peaceful abode, and the ease and
happiness I now enjoy, to encounter anew the turmoils of war, to which,
possibly, my strength and powers might be found incompetent. These,
however, should not be stumbling-blocks in my own way. But there are
other things highly important for me to ascertain and settle before I
could give a definitive answer to your question:
"1st. The propriety in the opinion of the public, so far as that opinion
has been expressed in conversation, of my appearing again on the public
theater after declaring the sentiments I did in my valedictory address
of September, 1796.
"2dly. A conviction in my own breast, from the best information that can
be obtained, that it is the wish of my country that its military force
should be committed to my charge; and,
"3dly. That the army now to be formed should be so appointed as to
afford a well-grounded hope of its doing honor to the country and credit
to him who commands it in the field.
"On each of these heads you must allow me to make observations."
Washington then proceeded to detail his sentiments on those points on
which his consent to take command of the army must depend.
Some casual circumstances delayed the reception of the letters of the
President and Secretary of War for several days, in consequence of
which, before the answer of Washington reached the seat of government,
the President had nominated him to the chief command of all the
armies raised or to be raised in the United States, with the rank of
lieutenant-general; and the Senate had unanimously advised and consented
to his appointment.
By the Secretary of War, who was directed to wait upon him with his
commission, the President addressed to him the following letter:
"Mr. McHenry, the Secretary of War, will have the honor to wait on you
in my behalf, to impart to you a step I have ventured to take, which
I should have been happy to have communicated in person, had such a
journey at this time been in my power."
"My reasons for this measure will be too well known to need any
explanation to the public. Every friend and every enemy of America will
comprehend them at first blush. To you, sir, I owe all the apology I can
make. The urgent necessity I am in of your advice and assistance, indeed
of your conduct and direction of the war, is all I can urge; and that is
a sufficient justification to myself and to the world. I hope it will
be so considered by yourself. Mr. McHenry will have the honor to consult
you upon the organization of the army, and upon everything relating to
it."
Open instructions, signed by the President, were on the same day
delivered to the Secretary of War, of which the following is a copy:
"It is my desire that you embrace the first opportunity to set out on
your journey to Mount Vernon and wait on General Washington with the
commission of lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of the armies of
the United States, which, by the advice and consent of the Senate, has
been signed by me.
"The reasons and motives which prevailed on me to venture on such a
step as the nomination of this great and illustrious character, whose
voluntary resignation alone occasioned my introduction to the office I
now hold, were too numerous to be detailed in this letter, and are too
obvious and important to escape the observation of any part of America
or Europe. But as it is a movement of great delicacy it will require
all your address to communicate the subject in a manner that shall be
inoffensive to his feelings and consistent with all the respect that is
due from me to him.
"If the general should decline the appointment all the world will be
silent and respectfully acquiesce. If he should accept it all the world,
except the enemies of his country, will rejoice. If he should come to no
decisive determination, but take the subject into consideration, I shall
not appoint any other lieutenant-general until his conclusion is known.
"His advice in the formation of a list of officers would be extremely
desirable to me. The names of Lincoln, Morgan, Knox, Hamilton, Gates,
Pinckney, Lee, Carrington, Hand, Muhlenberg, Dayton, Burr, Brooks, Cobb,
Smith, as well as the present commander-in-chief, may be mentioned to
him, and any others that occur to you. Particularly, I wish to have
his opinion on the men most suitable for inspector-general,
adjutant-general, and quartermaster-general.
"His opinion on all subjects would have great weight, and I wish you
to obtain from him as much of his reflections upon the times and the
service as you can."
The communications between Washington and the Secretary of War appear to
have been full and unreserved. The impressions of the former respecting
the critical and perilous situation of his country had previously
determined him to yield to the general desire and accept the commission
offered him, provided he could be permitted to select for the high
departments of the army, and especially for the military staff, those
in whom he could place the greatest confidence. Being assured that there
was every reason to believe his wishes in this respect would not be
thwarted, he gave to the secretary the arrangement which he would
recommend for the principal stations in the army, and on the 13th of
July addressed the following letter to the President:
"I had the honor, on the evening of the 11th instant, to receive from
the hands of the Secretary at War your favor of the 7th, announcing
that you had, with the advice and consent of the Senate, appointed me
lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of the armies raised or to be
raised for the service of the United States."
"I cannot express how greatly affected I am at this new proof of public
confidence, and at the highly flattering manner in which you have been
pleased to make the communication. At the same time I must not conceal
from you my earnest wish that the choice had fallen upon a man
less declined in years and better qualified to encounter the usual
vicissitudes of war."
"You know, sir, what calculations I had made relative to the probable
course of events on my retiring from office and the determination with
which I had consoled myself of closing the remnant of my days in my
present peaceful abode. You will, therefore, be at no loss to conceive
and appreciate the sensations I must have experienced to bring my mind
to any conclusion that would pledge me at so late a period of life
to leave scenes I sincerely love to enter upon the boundless field of
public action, incessant trouble, and high responsibility.
"It was not possible for me to remain ignorant of or indifferent to
recent transactions. The conduct of the Directory of France toward our
country; their insidious hostility to its government; their various
practices to withdraw the affections of the people from it; the evident
tendency of their arts, and those of their agents to countenance and
invigorate opposition; their disregard of solemn treaties and the laws
of nations; their war upon our defenseless commerce; their treatment of
our ministers of peace, and their demands, amounting to tribute,
could not fail to excite in me sentiments corresponding with those my
countrymen have so generally expressed in their affectionate addresses
to you.
"Believe me, sir, no man can more cordially approve the wise and
prudent measures of your administration. They ought to inspire universal
confidence, and will no doubt, combined with the state of things, call
from Congress such laws and means as will enable you to meet the full
force and extent of the crisis. Satisfied, therefore, that you have
sincerely wished and endeavored to avert war, and exhausted to the last
drop the cup of reconciliation, we can, with pure hearts, appeal to
Heaven for the justice of our cause, and may confidently trust the final
result to that kind Providence who has heretofore and then so often
signally favored the people of the United States.
"Thinking in this manner and feeling how incumbent it is upon every
person of every description to contribute at all times to his country's
welfare, and especially in a moment like the present, when everything
we hold dear and sacred is so seriously threatened, I have finally
determined to accept the commission of commander-in-chief of the armies
of the United States, with the reserve only that I shall not be called
into the field until the army is in a situation to require my presence
or it becomes indispensable by the urgency of circumstances.
"In making this reservation, I beg it to be understood that I do not
mean to withhold any assistance to arrange and organize the army, which
you may think I can afford. I take the liberty also to mention that I
must decline having my acceptance considered as drawing after it any
immediate charge upon the public, or that I can receive any emoluments
annexed to the appointment before I am in a situation to incur expense."
From this period Washington intermingled the cares and attentions of
office with his agricultural pursuits. His solicitude respecting the
organization of an army which he might possibly be required to lead
against an enemy the most formidable in the world, was too strong to
admit of his being inattentive to its arrangements.
Having stipulated, in accepting office, that he should have a concurrent
voice in the appointment of the general officers and general staff of
the army, he named Alexander Hamilton as inspector-general and second
in command, with Charles Cotesworth Pinckney and Henry Knox as
major-generals. Adams, who particularly disliked Hamilton, and was very
suspicious of his designs and purposes, especially if placed in any
position of power and influence, was not at all pleased with
this arrangement; but he unwillingly acquiesced. General Knox was
dissatisfied with the rank assigned him, and refused to serve; General
Pinckney, on the other hand, accepted the post offered him.
During the months of November and December (1798), Washington was at
Philadelphia, where he was busily occupied, with Hamilton and Pinckney,
in concerting arrangements for raising and organizing the army. From
this time to the end of his life a great part of his time was bestowed
upon military affairs.
"His correspondence with the Secretary of War, the major-generals, and
other officers," as Mr. Sparks states, "was unremitted and very full,
entering into details and communicating instructions which derived
value from his long experience and perfect knowledge of the subject. His
letters during this period, if not the most interesting to many readers,
will be regarded as models of their kind, and as affording evidence that
the vigor and fertility of his mind had not decreased with declining
years.
"He never seriously believed that the French would go to the extremity
of invading the United States. But it had always been a maxim with
him, that a timely preparation for war afforded the surest means for
preserving peace, and on this occasion he acted with as much promptitude
and energy as if the invaders had been actually on the coast. His
opinion proved to be correct, and his prediction was verified." For the
French government, when it was found that the people would support the
executive in resisting aggressions, soon manifested a disposition to
draw back from their war-like attitude, since war with the United States
was the last thing which was really desired.
While Washington was engaged in organizing the army actual hostilities
between the United States and France were going on at sea. A _navy_
department was formed by act of Congress in April (1798), and on May
21st Benjamin Stoddert, of Maryland, became the first Secretary of
the Navy. The frigates United States, 44, and Constellation, 38, were
launched and fitted for sea in the summer and autumn succeeding; and the
whole force authorized by a law passed on the 16th of July, consisted of
twelve frigates, twelve ships of a force between twenty and twenty-four
guns inclusive, and six sloops, besides galleys and revenue cutters,
making a total of thirty active cruisers. Numerous privateers were also
fitted out. The chief theater of naval operations was the archipelago
of the West Indies, where the aggressions on our commerce by French
cruisers and privateers had originally commenced. Of the numerous
encounters which took place, two remarkable ones afforded a promise of
the future glories of the American navy. One of these was a very severe
action (February, 1799) between the American frigate Constellation,
of thirty-eight guns, commanded by Commodore Truxton, and the French
frigate l'Insurgente, of forty guns, which terminated in the capture
of the latter. Truxton, in a subsequent engagement, compelled another
French frigate, the Vengeance, mounting no less than fifty-two guns, to
strike her colors, but she afterward made her escape in the night.
The determined attitude of the United States soon convinced the French
Directory that the people were united in support of the administration
in its hostile operations, and Talleyrand sent certain intimations to
our government, through William Vans Murray, American minister at the
Hague, as well as by more private channels, that the Directory were
willing and desirous to treat for peace. President Adams determined to
avail himself of these friendly dispositions, and, without consulting
his Cabinet or the leading members of Congress, on the 18th of February
(1799) nominated to the Senate Mr. Murray as minister plenipotentiary
to the French republic. Patrick Henry and Chief Justice Oliver Ellsworth
were subsequently appointed joint ambassadors, but the latter declining
on account of ill health, Gen. William Richardson Davie, Governor of
North Carolina, was appointed in his place. Ellsworth and Davie did not
leave the country, however, till November. The peace which terminated
the quasi war with France was negotiated by these envoys, but it did not
take place till the 3d of September, 1800, when Napoleon was at the
head of affairs in France, as First Consul, and after the death of
Washington.
We have seen that when Washington retired from the office of President,
he had promised himself a season of leisure and repose before closing
his useful and honorable life. But this the course of events did not
permit. His last days were destined to be fully occupied with public
affairs.
During the years 1798 and 1799 he was engaged in a most voluminous
correspondence with the President, the heads of departments, and the
officers of the provisional army, in relation to military affairs, and
in addition to this his published letters show that he had to keep up a
correspondence with many public men, both in Europe and America, as well
as with his own connections and dependants.
This correspondence and the arrangement of his papers added to the
writing occasioned by his accounts and the army affairs, made it
necessary for him to have assistance, and he accordingly wrote to his
old secretary, Mr. Tobias Lear, with a view to engaging him in the same
office again (August 2, 1798). An extract from his letter to Mr. Lear
shows how his writing labors had increased.
"The little leisure I had," he writes, "before my late appointment
(from visits, my necessary rides, and other occurrences), to overhaul,
arrange, and separate papers of real from those of little or no value,
is now, by that event, so much encroached upon by personal and
written applications for offices, and other matters incidental to the
commander-in-chief, that, without assistance, I must abandon all idea of
accomplishing this necessary work before I embark in new scenes, which
will render them more voluminous, and, of course, more difficult; a
measure which would be extremely irksome to me to submit to, especially
as it respects my accounts, which are yet in confusion; my earnest wish
and desire being, when I quit the stage of human action, to leave all
matters in such a situation as to give as little trouble as possible to
those who will have the management of them hereafter.
"Under this view of my situation, which is far from being an agreeable
one, and at times fills me with deep concern when I see so little
prospect of complete extrication, I have written to the Secretary of War
to be informed whether--as my taking the field is contingent, and no
pay or emolument will accrue to myself until then--I am at liberty
to appoint my secretary immediately, who shall be allowed his pay and
forage from the moment he joins me. If he answers in the affirmative,
can you do this on these terms?"
Mr. Lear accepted the appointment of secretary, proceeded immediately to
Mount Vernon, and remained with Washington till his decease.
With the aid of Mr. Lear, who was thoroughly conversant with his papers
and accustomed to his methods of transacting business, he was enabled to
keep up his old habit of riding over the estate, and superintending its
culture, during the early hours of the day. "When he returned from his
morning ride," which, he remarks in a letter to Mr. McHenry, "usually
occupied him till it was time to dress for dinner," he generally found
some newly arrived guests, perfect strangers to him, come, as they said,
out of respect to him. They were always received courteously, but their
number and their constant succession must have made serious inroads on
the domestic quiet in which he so much delighted. "How different this,"
he says in the same letter, "from having a few social friends at a
cheerful board."
During the last two years of his life his domestic circle was small.
Mrs. Washington, Miss Custis, and some others of his adopted children,
and his old friend, Mr. Lear, were at Mount Vernon; and some of his
visitors were such as he himself would have chosen. But the greater part
of them were comparative strangers.
Distinguished persons sometimes came from Europe to visit him, and these
were received with his usual hospitality. When they sought to draw him
into conversation about his own actions, he changed the subject and
made inquiries about Europe and its affairs. In his own house, although
maintaining toward strangers great courtesy and amenity, he always
avoided discussing on matters in which he himself had played the most
conspicuous part. At home he was the plain, modest country gentleman he
had been before the destinies of an army and an empire had been placed
in his hands.
1. Footnote: M. de Lacolombe had been adjutant-general under Lafayette,
when the latter commanded the National Guard.
2. Footnote: Sparks, "Writings of Washington."
3. Footnote: Marshall.
CHAPTER XIII.
LAST ILLNESS, DEATH, AND CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. 1799.
On Thursday, December 12, 1799, Washington rode out to superintend as
usual the affairs of his estate. He left the house at 10 o'clock in the
morning and did not return till 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Soon after
he went out the weather became very inclement, rain, hail, and snow
falling alternately, with a cold wind. When he came in his secretary
and superintendent, Mr. Lear, handed him some letters to frank, but he
declined sending them to the post-office that evening, remarking that
the weather was too bad to send a servant with them. On Mr. Lear's
observing that he was afraid he had got wet, he said, No, his great coat
had kept him dry. Still his neck was wet and snow was hanging on his
hair. But he made light of it, and sat down to dinner without changing
his dress. In the evening he appeared as well as usual. [1]
A heavy snowstorm on Friday prevented his riding out on the estate as
usual. He had taken cold the day before by his long exposure, and he
complained of a sore throat. This, however, did not prevent his going
out in the afternoon to mark some trees not far from the house, which
were to be cut down. He had now a hoarseness, which increased toward
the close of the day. He spent the evening in the parlor with Mrs.
Washington and Mr. Lear, perusing the newspapers, occasionally reading
an interesting article aloud as well as his hoarseness would permit,
and cheerful as usual. On his retiring, Mr. Lear proposed that he should
take some remedy for his cold, but he answered "No, you know I never
take anything for a cold. Let it go as it came."
Between 2 and 3 o'clock on Saturday morning he had an ague fit, but
would not permit the family to be disturbed in their rest till daylight.
He breathed with great difficulty and was hardly able to utter a word
intelligibly. At his desire he was bled by Mr. Rawlins, one of the
overseers. An attempt to take a simple remedy for a cold showed that he
could not swallow a drop, but seemed convulsed and almost suffocated in
his efforts. Dr. Craik, the family physician, was sent for and arrived
about 9 o'clock, who put a blister on his throat, took some more blood
from him and ordered a gargle of vinegar and sage tea, and inhalation of
the fumes of vinegar and hot water. Two consulting physicians, Dr. Brown
and Dr. Dick, were called in, who arrived about 3 o'clock, and after a
consultation he was bled a third time. The patient could now swallow
a little, and calomel and tartar emetic were administered without any
effect.
About half past 4 o'clock he desired Mr. Lear to call Mrs. Washington to
his bedside; when he requested her to bring from his desk two wills,
and on receiving them, he gave her one, which he observed was useless
as being superseded by the other, and desired her to burn it, which she
did, and put the other into her closet.
"After this was done," says Mr. Lear, in concluding his touching
narrative, "I returned to his bedside and took his hand. He said to
me: 'I find I am going. My breath cannot last long. I believed from the
first that the disorder would prove fatal. Do you arrange and record all
my late military letters and papers. Arrange my accounts and settle my
books, as you know more about them than anyone else, and let Mr. Rawlins
finish recording my other letters, which he has begun.' I told him this
should be done. He then asked if I recollected anything which it was
essential for him to do, as he had but a very short time to continue
with us. I told him that I could recollect nothing which it was
essential for him to do, but that I hoped he was not so near his end. He
observed, smiling, that he certainly was, and that, as it was the debt
we must all pay, he looked to the event with perfect resignation.
"In the course of the afternoon he appeared to be in great pain and
distress, from the difficulty of breathing, and frequently changed his
posture in the bed. On these occasions I lay upon the bed and endeavored
to raise him and turn him with as much ease as possible. He appeared
penetrated with gratitude for my attentions, and often said, 'I am
afraid I shall fatigue you too much,' and upon assuring him that I could
feel nothing but a wish to give him ease, he replied, 'Well, it is a
debt we must pay to each other, and I hope when you want aid of this
kind you will find it.'
"About 5 o'clock Dr. Craik came again into the room, and, upon going to
the bedside, the general said to him, 'Doctor, I die hard, but I am
not afraid to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I should not
survive it. My breath cannot last long.' The doctor pressed his hand,
but could not utter a word. He retired from the bedside and sat by the
fire, absorbed in grief.
"Between 5 and 6 o'clock Dr. Craik, Dr. Dick, and Dr. Brown came again
into the room, and with Dr. Craik went to the bed, when Dr. Craik asked
him if he could sit up in the bed. He held out his hand and I raised him
up. He then said to the physicians, 'I feel myself going; I thank you
for your attentions, but I pray you to take no more trouble about me.
Let me go off quietly. I cannot last long.' They found that all which
had been done was without effect. He lay down again, and all retired
except Dr. Craik. He continued in the same situation, uneasy and
restless, but without complaining, frequently asking what hour it was.
When I helped him to move at this time he did not speak, but looked at
me with strong expressions of gratitude.
"About 8 o'clock the physicians came again into the room and applied
blisters and cataplasms of wheat bran to his legs and feet, after which
they went out, except Dr. Craik, without a ray of hope. I went out about
this time and wrote a line to Mr. Law and Mr. Peter, requesting them
to come with their wives (Mrs. Washington's granddaughters) as soon as
possible to Mount Vernon.
"About 10 o'clock he made several attempts to speak to me before he
could effect it. At length he said, 'I am just going. Have me decently
buried, and do not let my body be put into the vault in less than three
days after I am dead.' I bowed assent, for I could not speak. He then
looked at me again and said, 'Do you understand me?' I replied, 'Yes.'
'Tis well,' said he.
"About ten minutes before he expired (which was between 10 and 11
o'clock) his breathing became easier. He lay quietly; he withdrew his
hand from mine and felt his own pulse. I saw his countenance change.
I spoke to Dr. Craik, who sat by the fire. He came to the bedside. The
general's hand fell from his wrist. I took it in mine and pressed it to
my bosom. Dr. Craik put his hands over his eyes, and he expired without
a struggle or a sigh (December 14, 1799).
"While we were fixed in silent grief, Mrs. Washington, who was sitting
at the foot of the bed, asked, with a firm and collected voice, 'Is he
gone?' I could not speak, but held up my hand as a signal that he was no
more. 'Tis well,' said she, in the same voice, 'all is over now. I shall
soon follow him. I have no more trials to pass through.'
"During his whole illness," adds Mr. Lear, "he spoke but seldom, and
with great difficulty and distress, and in so low and broken a voice
as at times hardly to be understood. His patience, fortitude, and
resignation never forsook him for a moment. In all his distress he
uttered not a sigh nor a complaint, always endeavoring, from a sense of
duty, as it appeared, to take what was offered him and to do as he was
desired by the physicians."
By this simple and touching record of the last moments of Washington, it
will be perceived that his conduct, in the last trying scene, was in
all respects consistent with his whole life and character. His habitual
serenity and self-command, and the ever-present sense of duty, are
apparent through the whole. He died as he had lived, a hero in the
highest sense of the word and a true Christian.
The deep and wide-spreading grief occasioned by this melancholy event
assembled a great concourse of people for the purpose of paying the last
tribute of respect to the first of Americans, and on Wednesday, the 18th
of December, his body, attended by military honors, and with religious
and Masonic ceremonies, was deposited in the family vault on his estate.
In December, 1837, the remains of the great father of our nation, after
a slumber of thirty-eight years, were again exposed by the circumstance
of placing his body once and forever within the marble sarcophagus made
by Mr. Struthers, of Philadelphia. The body, as Mr. Struthers related,
was still in a wonderful state of preservation, the high pale brow wore
a calm and serene expression, and the lips, pressed together, had a
grave and solemn smile.
When intelligence reached Congress of the death of Washington, they
instantly adjourned until the next day, when John Marshall, then a
member of the House of Representatives and afterward chief justice of
the United States and biographer of Washington, addressed the speaker in
the following words:
"The melancholy event which was yesterday announced with doubt has
been rendered but too certain. Our Washington is no more. The hero, the
patriot, and the sage of America; the man on whom, in times of danger,
every eye was turned, and all hopes were placed, lives now only in his
own great actions and in the hearts of an affectionate and afflicted
people.
"If, sir, it had even not been usual openly to testify respect for
the memory of those whom Heaven has selected as its instruments for
dispensing good to man, yet such has been the uncommon worth and such
the extraordinary incidents which have marked the life of him whose loss
we all deplore, that the whole American nation, impelled by the same
feelings, would call with one voice for a public manifestation of that
sorrow, which is so deep and so universal.
"More than any other individual, and as much as to any one individual
was possible, has he contributed to found this, our wide-spreading
empire, and to give to the western world independence and freedom.
"Having effected the great object for which he was placed at the head of
our armies, we have seen him convert the sword into the ploughshare and
sink the soldier into the citizen.
"When the debility of our Federal system had become manifest, and the
bonds which connected this vast continent were dissolving, we have seen
him the chief of those patriots who formed for us a constitution, which,
by preserving the Union, will, I trust, substantiate and perpetuate
those blessings which our Revolution had promised to bestow.
"In obedience to the general voice of his country, calling him to
preside over a great people, we have seen him once more quit the
retirement he loved, and, in a season more stormy and tempestuous than
war itself, with calm and wise determination, pursue the true interests
of the nation and contribute more than any other could contribute to the
establishment of that system of policy which will, I trust, yet
preserve our peace, our honor, and our independence. Having been twice
unanimously chosen the chief magistrate of a free people, we have seen
him, at a time when his re-election with universal suffrage could not
be doubted, afford to the world a rare instance of moderation, by
withdrawing from his high station to the peaceful walks of private life.
However the public confidence may change, and the public affections
fluctuate with respect to others, with respect to him they have, in war
and in peace, in public and in private life, been as steady as his own
firm mind and as constant as his own exalted virtues. Let us then, Mr.
Speaker, pay the last tribute of respect and affection to our departed
friend. Let the grand council of the nation display those sentiments
which the nation feels. For this purpose I hold in my hand some
resolutions which I take the liberty of offering to the House.
"_Resolved_, That this House will wait on the President in condolence of
this mournful event.
"_Resolved_, That the speaker's chair be shrouded with black, and that
the members and officers of the House wear black during the session.
"_Resolved_, That a committee, in conjunction with one from the Senate,
be appointed to consider on the most suitable manner of paying honor
to the memory of the man first in war, first in peace, and first in the
hearts of his fellow-citizens."
The Senate, on this melancholy occasion, addressed to the President the
following letter:
"The Senate of the United States respectfully take leave, sir, to
express to you their deep regret for the loss their country sustains in
the death of Gen. George Washington.
"This event, so distressing to all our fellow-citizens, must be
peculiarly heavy to you, who have long been associated with him in deeds
of patriotism. Permit us, sir, to mingle our tears with yours. On this
occasion it is manly to weep. To lose such a man at such a crisis is no
common calamity to the world. Our country mourns a father. The Almighty
Disposer of human events has taken from us our greatest benefactor and
ornament. It becomes us to submit with reverence to Him 'who maketh
darkness His pavilion.'
"With patriotic pride we review the life of our Washington and compare
its events with those of other countries who have been preeminent in
fame. Ancient and modern times are diminished before him. Greatness
and guilt have too often been allied, but his fame is whiter than it is
brilliant. The destroyers of nations stood abashed at the majesty of his
virtues. It reproved the intemperance of their ambition and darkened the
splendor of victory. The scene is closed, and we are no longer anxious
lest misfortune should sully his glory; he has traveled on to the end of
his journey and carried with him an increasing weight of honor; he has
deposited it safely where misfortune cannot tarnish it, where malice
cannot blast it. Favored of Heaven, he departed without exhibiting the
weakness of humanity. Magnanimous in death, the darkness of the grave
could not obscure his brightness.
"Such was the man whom we deplore. Thanks to God, his glory is
consummated. Washington yet lives on earth in his spotless example; his
spirit is in Heaven. Let his countrymen consecrate the memory of the
heroic general, the patriotic statesman, and the virtuous sage. Let them
teach their children never to forget that the fruits of his labors and
his example are their inheritance."
To this address the President returned the following answer:
"I receive with the most respectful and affectionate sentiments, in this
impressive address, the obliging expressions of your regret for the loss
our country has sustained in the death of her most esteemed, beloved,
and admired citizen.
"In the multitude of my thoughts and recollections on this melancholy
event, you will permit me to say that I have seen him in the days of
adversity, in some of the scenes of his deepest distress and most trying
perplexities. I have also attended him in the highest elevation and most
prosperous felicity, with uniform admiration of his wisdom, moderation,
and constancy.
"Among all our original associates in that memorable league of this
continent in 1774, which first expressed the sovereign will of a
free nation in America, he was the only one remaining in the general
government. Although with a constitution more enfeebled than his, at
an age when he thought it necessary to prepare for retirement, I
feel myself alone bereaved of my last brother; yet I derive a strong
consolation from the unanimous disposition which appears in all ages and
classes to mingle their sorrows with mine on this common calamity to the
world.
"The life of our Washington cannot suffer by a comparison with those of
other countries, who have been most celebrated and exalted by fame. The
attributes and decorations of royalty could only have served to eclipse
the majesty of those virtues which made him, from being a modest
citizen, a more resplendent luminary. Misfortune, had he lived, could
hereafter have sullied his glory only with those superficial minds, who,
believing that character and actions are marked by success alone, rarely
deserve to enjoy it. Malice could never blast his honor, and envy made
him a singular exception to her universal rule. For himself, he had
lived long enough to life and to glory; for his fellow-citizens, if
their prayers could have been answered, he would have been immortal; for
me, his departure is at a most unfortunate moment. Trusting, however, in
the wise and righteous dominion of Providence over the passions of men
and the results of their actions, as well as over their lives, nothing
remains for me but humble resignation.
"His example is now complete, and it will teach wisdom and virtue to
magistrates, citizens, and men, not only in the present age, but in
future generations, as long as our history shall be read."
The committee of both Houses appointed to devise the mode by which the
nation should express its grief reported the following resolutions,
which were unanimously adopted:
"That a marble monument be erected by the United States at the capitol
of the city of Washington, and that the family of General Washington
be requested to permit his body to be deposited under it, and that
the monument be so designed as to commemorate the great events of his
military and political life.
"That there be a funeral from Congress Hall to the German Lutheran
Church, in memory of Gen. George Washington, on Thursday, the 26th
instant, and that an oration be prepared at the request of Congress, to
be delivered before both Houses that day; and that the president of the
Senate and speaker of the House of Representatives be desired to request
one of the members of Congress to prepare and deliver the same.
"That the President of the United States be requested to direct a copy
of these resolutions to be transmitted to Mrs. Washington, assuring
her of the profound respect Congress will ever bear to her person and
character, of their condolence on the late affecting dispensation of
Providence, and entreating her assent to the interment of the remains of
General Washington in the manner expressed in the first resolution.
"That the President be requested to issue his proclamation, notifying
the people throughout the United States the recommendation contained in
the third resolution."
These resolutions passed both Houses unanimously, and those which would
admit of immediate execution were carried into effect. The whole nation
appeared in mourning. The funeral procession was grand and solemn, and
the eloquent oration, which was delivered on the occasion by General
Lee, was heard with profound attention and with deep interest.
Throughout the United States similar marks of affliction were exhibited.
In every part of the continent funeral orations were delivered, and the
best talents of the nation were devoted to an expression of the nation's
grief.
To the letter of the President which transmitted to Mrs. Washington the
resolutions of Congress, and of which his secretary was the bearer, that
lady answered:
"Taught by the great example which I have so long had before me, never
to oppose my private wishes to the public will, I must consent to the
request made by Congress which you have had the goodness to transmit
to me; and in doing this I need not, I cannot, say what a sacrifice of
individual feeling I make to a sense of public duty."
On receiving intelligence of the death of Washington, Napoleon, then
First Consul of France, issued the following order of the day to the
army:
"Washington is dead. This great man fought against tyranny; he
established the liberty of his country. His memory will always be dear
to the French people, as it will be to all freemen of the two worlds;
and especially to French soldiers, who, like him and the American
soldiers, have combated for liberty and equality."
Napoleon ordered that during ten days black crape should be suspended
from all the standards and flags throughout the republic. On the 9th of
February, 1800, a splendid funeral solemnity took place in the Champ de
Mars; and a funeral oration in honor of Washington was pronounced by M.
de la Fontaines, in the Hotel des Invalides, at which the First Consul
and the civil and military authorities were present. [2]
The British admiral in command of the fleet lying at Torbay, on
receiving the news of Washington's death, honored his memory by lowering
his flag to half-mast; and his example was followed by the whole fleet.
[3]
Judge Marshall, who had enjoyed the advantage of an intimate personal
acquaintance with Washington, who was one of his most steadfast
political supporters, and whose able biography shows a thorough
appreciation of his extraordinary abilities and virtues, gives the
following summary view of his character:
"General Washington was rather above the common size, his frame was
robust, and his constitution vigorous--capable of enduring great fatigue
and requiring a considerable degree of exercise for the preservation of
his health. His exterior created in the beholder the idea of strength,
united with manly gracefulness.
"His manners were rather reserved than free, though they partook nothing
of that dryness and sternness which accompany reserve when carried to an
extreme, and on all proper occasions he could relax sufficiently to
show how highly he was gratified by the charms of conversation and
the pleasures of society. His person and whole deportment exhibited an
unaffected and indescribable dignity, unmingled with haughtiness, of
which all who approached him were sensible; and the attachment of those
who possessed his friendship and enjoyed his intimacy was ardent, but
always respectful.
"His temper was humane, benevolent, and conciliatory, but there was
a quickness in his sensibility to anything apparently offensive which
experience had taught him to watch, and to correct.
"In the management of his private affairs he exhibited an exact yet
liberal economy. His funds were not prodigally wasted on capricious
and ill-examined schemes, nor refused to beneficial though costly
improvements. They remained, therefore, competent to that expensive
establishment which his reputation, added to a hospitable temper, had,
in some measure, imposed upon him, and to those donations which real
distress has a right to claim from opulence.
"He made no pretensions to that vivacity which fascinates, or to that
wit which dazzles and frequently imposes on the understanding. More
solid than brilliant, judgment rather than genius, constituted the most
prominent feature of his character.
"Without making ostentatious professions of religion, he was a sincere
believer in the Christian faith and a truly devout man.
"As a military man, he was brave, enterprising, and cautious. That
malignity which has sought to strip him of all the higher qualities of
a general, has conceded to him personal courage and a firmness of
resolution which neither dangers nor difficulties could shake. But
candor will allow him other great and valuable endowments. If his
military course does not abound with splendid achievements, it exhibits
a series of judicious measures adopted to circumstances, which probably
saved his country.
"Placed, without having studied the theory or been taught in the school
of experience the practice of war, at the head of an undisciplined,
ill-organized multitude, which was impatient of the restraints and
unacquainted with the ordinary duties of a camp, without the aid of
officers possessing those lights which the Commander-in-Chief was yet
to acquire, it would have been a miracle indeed had his conduct been
absolutely faultless. But, possessing an energetic and distinguishing
mind, on which the lessons of experience were never lost, his errors,
if he committed any, were quickly repaired, and those measures which the
state of things rendered most advisable were seldom, if ever, neglected.
Inferior to his adversary in the numbers, in the equipment, and in the
discipline of his troops, it is evidence of real merit that no great
and decisive advantages were ever obtained over him, and that the
opportunity to strike an important blow never passed away unused. He has
been termed the American Fabius, but those who compare his actions with
his means will perceive at least as much of Marcellus as of Fabius
in his character. He could not have been more enterprising without
endangering the cause he defended, nor have put more to hazard without
incurring justly the imputation of rashness. Not relying upon those
chances which sometimes give a favorable issue to attempts apparently
desperate, his conduct was regulated by calculations made upon the
capacities of his army and the real situation of his country. When
called a second time to command the armies of the United States a change
of circumstances had taken place, and he meditated a corresponding
change of conduct. In modeling the army of 1798 he sought for men
distinguished for their boldness of execution, not less than for their
prudence in council, and contemplated a system of continued attack.
'The enemy,' said the general in his private letters, 'must never be
permitted to gain foothold on our shores.'
"In his civil administration, as in his military career, ample and
repeated proofs were exhibited of that practical good sense, of that
sound judgment, which is perhaps the most rare and is certainly the most
valuable quality of the human mind. Devoting himself to the duties of
his station, and pursuing no object distinct from the public good, he
was accustomed to contemplate at a distance those critical situations in
which the United States might probably be placed, and to digest, before
the occasion required action, the line of conduct which it would be
proper to observe.
"Taught to distrust first impressions, he sought to acquire all the
information which was attainable, and to hear, without prejudice, all
the reasons which could be urged for or against a particular measure.
His own judgment was suspended until it became necessary to determine,
and his decisions, thus maturely made, were seldom if ever to be shaken.
His conduct, therefore, was systematic, and the great objects of his
administration were steadily pursued.
"Respecting, as the first magistrate in a free government must ever do,
the real and deliberate sentiments of the people, their gusts of passion
passed over, without ruffling the smooth surface of his mind. Trusting
to the reflecting good sense of the nation for approbation and support,
he had the magnanimity to pursue its real interests, in opposition
to its temporary prejudices; and, though far from being regardless of
popular favor, he could never stoop to retain, by deserving to lose it.
In more instances than one we find him committing his whole popularity
to hazard, and pursuing steadily, in opposition to a torrent which would
have overwhelmed a man of ordinary firmness, that course which had been
dictated by a sense of duty.
"In speculation he was a real republican, devoted to the constitution of
his country and to that system of equal political rights on which it is
founded. But between a balanced republic and a democracy the difference
is like that between order and chaos. Real liberty, he thought, was
to be preserved only by preserving the authority of the laws and
maintaining the energy of government. Scarcely did society present
two characters which, in his opinion, less resembled each other than a
patriot and a demagogue.
"No man has ever appeared upon the theater of public action whose
integrity was more incorruptible, or whose principles were more
perfectly free from the contamination of those selfish and unworthy
passions which find their nourishment in the conflicts of party. Having
no views which required concealment, his real and avowed motives were
the same; and his whole correspondence does not furnish a single case
from which even an enemy would infer that he was capable, under any
circumstances, of stooping to the employment of duplicity. No truth can
be uttered with more confidence than that his ends were always upright
and his means always pure. He exhibits the rare example of a politician
to whom wiles were absolutely unknown, and whose professions to foreign
governments and to his own countrymen were always sincere. In him was
fully exemplified the real distinction which forever exists between
wisdom and cunning, and the importance as well as truth of the maxim,
that 'honesty is the best policy.'
"If Washington possessed ambition that passion was, in his bosom, so
regulated by principles or controlled by circumstances that it was
neither vicious nor turbulent. Intrigue was never employed as the means
of its gratification, nor was personal aggrandizement its object. The
various high and important stations to which he was called by the public
voice were unsought by himself; and, in consenting to fill them, he
seems rather to have yielded to a general conviction that the interests
of his country would be thereby promoted, than to an avidity for power.
"Neither the extraordinary partiality of the American people, the
extravagant praises which were bestowed upon him, nor the inveterate
opposition and malignant calumnies which he encountered, had any visible
influence upon his conduct. The cause is to be looked for in the texture
of his mind.
"In him, that innate and unassuming modesty which adulation would have
offended, which the voluntary plaudits of millions could not betray
into indiscretion, and which never obtruded upon others his claims to
superior consideration, was happily blended with a high and correct
sense of personal dignity, and with a just consciousness of that respect
which is due to station. Without exertion he could maintain the happy
medium between that arrogance which wounds and that facility which
allows the office to be degraded in the person who fills it.
"It is impossible to contemplate the great events which have occurred
in the United States under the auspices of Washington without ascribing
them, in some measure, to him. If we ask the causes of the prosperous
issue of a war, against the successful termination of which there were
so many probabilities; of the good which was produced, and the ill
which was avoided, during an administration fated to contend with the
strongest prejudices that a combination of circumstances and of
passions could produce; of the constant favor of the great mass of his
fellow-citizens, and of the confidence which, to the last moment of his
life, they reposed in him, the answer, so far as these causes may
be found in his character, will furnish a lesson well meriting the
attention of those who are candidates for political fame.
"Endowed by nature with a sound judgment, and an accurate discriminating
mind, he feared not that laborious attention which made him perfectly
master of those subjects, in all their relations, on which he was to
decide; and this essential quality was guided by an unvarying sense of
moral right, which would tolerate the employment only of those means
that would bear the most rigid examination, by a fairness of intention
which neither sought nor required disguise, and by a purity of
virtue which was not only untainted but unsuspected." The eulogies of
Washington, at the time of his death, were almost as numerous as the
towns and cities of the republic; for everywhere funeral honors were
paid to his memory. The following, by the celebrated orator, Fisher
Ames, pronounced before the Legislature of Massachusetts, is as
remarkable for its conciseness as for its just and comprehensive
estimate of Washington's character.
"It is not impossible," he said, "that some will affect to consider
the honors paid to this great patriot by the nation as excessive,
idolatrous, and degrading to freemen who are all equal. I answer, that
refusing to virtue its legitimate honors would not prevent their being
lavished in future on any worthless and ambitious favorite. If this
day's example should have its natural effect, it will be salutary.
Let such honors be so conferred only when, in future, they shall be so
merited; then the public sentiment will not be misled nor the principles
of a just equality corrupted. The best evidence of reputation is a man's
whole life. We have now, alas, all of Washington's before us. There
has scarcely appeared a really great man whose character has been more
admired in his lifetime or less correctly understood by his admirers.
When it is comprehended it is no easy task to delineate its excellencies
in such a manner as to give the portrait both interest and resemblance,
for it requires thought and study to understand the true ground of the
superiority of his character over many others, whom he resembled in the
principles of action and even in the manner of acting. But, perhaps,
he excels all the great men that ever lived, in the steadiness of his
adherence to his maxims of life and in the uniformity of all his conduct
to those maxims. Those maxims, though wise, were yet not so remarkable
for their wisdom as for their authority over his life, for if there were
any errors in his judgment--and he displayed as few as any man--we know
of no blemishes in his virtue. He was the patriot without reproach; he
loved his country well enough to hold success in serving it an ample
recompense. Thus far, self-love and love of country coincided, but when
his country needed sacrifices that no other man could, or perhaps would
be willing to make, he did not even hesitate. This was virtue in its
most exalted character. More than once he put his fame at hazard, when
he had reason to think it would be sacrificed, at least in this age. Two
instances cannot be denied: when the army was disbanded, and again
when he stood, like Leonidas at the pass of Thermopylae, to defend our
independence against France.
"It is indeed almost as difficult to draw his character as to draw
the portrait of virtue. The reasons are similar; our ideas of moral
excellence are obscure, because they are complex, and we are obliged to
resort to illustrations. Washington's example is the happiest to show
what virtue is, and to delineate his character, we naturally expatiate
on the beauty of virtue; much must be felt and much imagined. His
pre-eminence is not so much to be seen in the display of any one
virtue, as in the possession of them all and in the practice of the most
difficult. Hereafter, therefore, his character must be studied before
it will be striking, and then it will be admitted as a model--a precious
one to a free republic.
"It is no less difficult to speak of his talents. They were adapted to
lead, without dazzling mankind, and to draw forth and employ the
talents of others without being misled by them. In this he was certainly
superior, that he neither mistook nor misapplied his own. His great
modesty and reserve would have concealed them if great occasions had not
called them forth, and then, as he never spoke from the affectation to
shine nor acted from any sinister motives, it is from their effects only
that we are to judge of their greatness and extent. In public trusts,
where men, acting conspicuously, are cautious, and in those private
concerns where few conceal or resist their weakness, Washington was
uniformly great, pursuing right conduct from right maxims. His talents
were such as to assist a sound judgment and ripen with it. His prudence
was consummate and seemed to take the direction of his powers and
passions; for, as a soldier, he was more solicitous to avoid mistakes
that might be fatal than to perform exploits that are brilliant; and, as
a statesman, to adhere to just principles, however old, than to pursue
novelties; and, therefore, in both characters, his qualities were
singularly adapted to the interest and were tried in the greatest perils
of the country. His habits of inquiry were so far remarkable that he was
never satisfied with investigating, nor desisted from it, so long as
he had less than all the light that he could obtain upon a subject, and
then he made his decision without bias.
"This command over the partialities that so generally stop men short or
turn them aside in their pursuit of truth, is one of the chief causes of
his unvaried course of right conduct in so many difficult scenes, where
every human action must be presumed to err. If he had strong passions
he had learned to subdue them, and to be moderate and mild. If he had
weaknesses, he concealed them, which is rare, and excluded them from the
government of his temper and conduct, which is still more rare. If
he loved fame, he never made improper compliances for what is called
popularity. The fame he enjoyed is of the kind that will last forever,
yet it was rather the effect than the motive of his conduct. Some future
Plutarch will search for a parallel to his character. Epaminondas is,
perhaps, the brightest name of all antiquity. Our Washington resembled
him in the purity and ardor of his patriotism, and, like him, he first
exalted the glory of his country. There, it is to be hoped, the parallel
ends, for Thebes fell with Epamanondas. But such comparisons cannot be
pursued far without departing from the similitude. For we shall find it
as difficult to compare great men as great rivers; some we admire for
the length and rapidity of their currents and the grandeur of their
cataracts; others for the majestic silence and fullness of their
streams; we cannot bring them together, to measure the difference of
their waters. The unambitious life of Washington, declining fame yet
courted by it, seemed, like the Ohio, to choose its long way through
solitudes, diffusing fertility, or like his own Potomac, widening and
deepening its channel as it approaches the sea, and displaying most the
usefulness and serenity of its greatness toward the end of its course.
Such a citizen would do honor to any country. The constant veneration
and affection of his country will show that it was worthy of such a
citizen.
"However his military fame may excite the wonder of mankind, it is
chiefly by his civil magistracy that his example will instruct them.
Great generals have arisen in all ages of the world, and perhaps most of
them in despotism and darkness. In times of violence and convulsion
they rise, by the force of the whirlwind, high enough to ride in it and
direct the storm. Like meteors, they glare on the black clouds with a
splendor that, while it dazzles and terrifies, makes nothing visible but
the darkness. The fame of heroes is indeed growing vulgar; they multiply
in every long war; they stand in history and thicken in their ranks
almost as undistinguished as their own soldiers.
"But such a chief magistrate as Washington appears like the pole-star in
a clear sky to direct the skilful statesman. His presidency will form an
epoch and be distinguished as the age of Washington. Already it assumes
its high place in the political region. Like the milky-way, it whitens
along its allotted portion of the hemisphere. The latest generations of
men will survey, through the telescope of history, the space where so
many virtues blend their rays, and delight to separate them into groups
and distinct virtues. As the best illustration of them, the living
monument, to which the first of patriots would have chosen to consign
his fame, it is my earnest prayer to Heaven that our country may subsist
even to that late day in the plenitude of its liberty and happiness, and
mingle its mild glory with Washington's."
1. Footnote: Our authority for the details of Washington's last illness
and death is a statement carefully prepared by Mr. Lear at the time, and
published from the original in Sparks' "Life of Washington." It is the
most exact and reliable authority extant.
2. Footnote: Sparks, "Life of Washington."
3. Footnote: Sparks, "Life of Washington."