when I shall attempt to stimulate Congress to the best improvement of
our late success by taking the most vigorous and effectual measures to
be ready for an early and decisive campaign the next year. My greatest
fear is that Congress, viewing this stroke in too important a point of
light, may think our work too nearly closed, and will fall into a state
of languor and relaxation. To prevent the error, I shall employ every
means in my power; and if, unhappily, we sink into that fatal mistake,
no part of the blame shall be mine."
To another he wrote:
"The hand of Providence has been so conspicuous in all this, that he
must be worse than an infidel that lacks faith, and more than wicked
that has not gratitude enough to acknowledge his obligations."
XXIII.
PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.
"Now we must follow up this grand victory with harder blows," remarked
Washington to Lafayette.
"Then you do not believe the war is ended yet?" Lafayette replied
inquiringly.
"Of course not. The king will not yield to 'rebels' so willingly as
that. We must concentrate our entire force upon New York now."
"Every lover of his country ought to be stimulated to greater deeds
now," added Lafayette.
"And Congress ought to respond promptly and liberally to the demands of
the hour," said Washington. "The legislatures of the several Colonies
ought to be prompt and liberal, also, in providing men and means. Give
us men and supplies equal to the emergency, and our independence can be
permanently established."
Washington waited upon Congress personally, and he wrote letters to the
governors of the several Colonies, pleading for more liberal aid than
ever, that the war might be successfully prosecuted to the bitter end.
While these negotiations were progressing, the king superseded Sir Henry
Clinton by the appointment of Sir Guy Carleton as commander-in-chief of
the British army. The latter commander was in favor of peace, and he
appealed to the British Parliament for conciliatory action; nor was his
plea in vain. After a long and acrimonious struggle, Parliament adopted
a resolution advising reconciliation. From that moment, peace
negotiations were commenced, but were not fully consummated until Nov.
30, 1782, at Paris. It was the nineteenth day of April, 1783, when the
welcome news, received in this country, was announced to the army.
The surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, contrary to the expectations of
Washington, thus proved to be the end of the war. In just eight years
from the time the first battle of the Revolution was fought at
Lexington, April 19, 1775, the proclamation of peace was made to the
army. "Thus ended a long and arduous conflict, in which Great Britain
expended near a hundred millions of money, with a hundred thousand
lives, and won nothing. America endured every cruelty and distress, lost
many lives and much treasure, but delivered herself from a foreign
dominion, and gained a rank among the nations of the earth."
The enemy evacuated New York and other posts and returned to England,
and Washington occupied the same, and proceeded to disband the army.
Addressing his officers and companions in arms, with deep emotion he
said:
"With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you. I
most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy
as your former have been glorious and honorable. I cannot come to each
of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged if each of you will come
and take me by the hand."
He could say no more. Tears blinded his eyes, and emotion caused his
voice to tremble. Silently, one after another, these heroes of many
battles and sufferings approached and grasped his hand. No one spoke a
word. Each felt more than language could express. The scene was
affecting beyond description.
Congress was in session at Annapolis, and thither he journeyed to return
his commission. A perfect ovation attended him all the way. The
occupants of every town, village, and farmhouse turned out to hail the
conqueror. Men, women, and children vied with each other in
demonstrations of love and honor. Cannon pealed, bells rung, music
wafted, voices sounded, banners waved, in honor "of the only man," as
Jefferson said, "who had the confidence of all."
Congress received him in a manner to attest their profoundest respect
and love. Resigning his commission, he said:
"Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great
theatre of action, and, bidding an affectionate farewell to this august
body, under whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer my
commission, and take my leave of all the employments of public life."
Our American Cincinnatus retired to his farm and plough, which he left
eight years before at the call of his country. He designed to spend the
remainder of his days in retirement at Mount Vernon. His large estates
demanded his attention, and his tastes for agricultural pursuits adapted
him to the situation.
Under his careful and efficient supervision, his Mount Vernon estate
rapidly improved. He enlarged his house, so that he might accommodate
the numerous distinguished visitors who now paid him their respects. He
studied agriculture by consulting the best authorities, doing it not
alone for the purpose of improving his own estates, but also to aid his
newly emancipated country in developing its resources.
He lent his great influence to educational and religious enterprises, so
essential to the stability and progress of the free and independent
Colonies. Through his influence, two companies were organized to extend
the navigation of the James and Potomac rivers. Grateful for his aid in
creating enterprises of so great public benefit, the General Assembly
presented him with one hundred and fifty shares of the stock, worth
fifty thousand dollars. He declined to accept the large gift, saying:
"What will the world think if they should hear that I have taken fifty
thousand dollars for this affair? Will they not suspect, on my next
proposition, that money is my motive? Thus for the sake of money, which,
indeed, I never coveted from my country, I may lose the power to do her
some service, which may be worth more than all money."
He assured the Assembly that if they would contribute the amount for a
national university in what is now the District of Columbia, and a
literary institution in Rockbridge County, since called Washington
College, he should esteem their gift even more than he would were he to
accept and devote it to his own private use; and they complied with his
wishes.
As before the war, he continued to remember the poor, whose veneration
for him was greater than ever. His methods of assisting them were often
original, and always practical; as, for example, keeping a boat on the
Potomac for their use in fishing. Here was an opportunity for them to
obtain subsistence without sacrificing the virtues of industry and
self-reliance.
Mr. Peake, who had charge of one of his plantations, said:
"I had orders to fill a corn-house every year for the sole use of the
poor in my neighborhood, to whom it was a seasonable and most precious
relief, saving numbers of poor women and children from miserable famine,
and blessing them with a cheerful plenteousness of bread."
One year, when there was a scarcity of corn, and the price of it went up
to a dollar per bushel, the suffering among the poor was much increased.
Washington ordered his agent to distribute all that could be spared from
the granaries, and he purchased several hundred bushels in addition, at
the high price, to be used in charity.
Governor Johnson of Maryland, a hero of '76, related the following
incident to Mr. Weems:
The governor went to the Virginia Springs for his health. The place was
crowded with people, but he secured "a mattress in the hut of a very
honest baker" whom he knew. The baker did a large business, and every
day Mr. Johnson noticed that many poor negroes came for loaves, and took
them away without paying a cent.
"Stophel," said Mr. Johnson one day, "you seem to sell a world of bread
here every day, but notwithstanding that, I fear you don't gain much by
it."
"What makes you think so?" replied Stophel.
"You credit too much."
"Not I, indeed, sir; I don't credit at all."
"Ay, how do you make that out? Don't I see the poor people every day
carrying away your bread, and yet paying you nothing?"
"Pshaw! what of that? They will pay me all in a lump at last."
"At _last_!" exclaimed the governor, "at the _last day_, I suppose. You
think the Almighty will stand paymaster, and wipe off all your old
scores for you at a dash."
"Not by any means, squire. The poor bakers can't give such long credit;
but I will tell you how we work the matter. Washington directed me to
supply these poor people at his expense, and I do it. Believe me,
squire, he has often, at the end of the season, paid me as much as
eighty dollars, and that, too, for poor creatures who did not know the
hand that fed them; for I had strict orders from him not to mention it
to anybody."
In a former chapter we learned the magnanimity of his conduct towards
one Payne, who knocked him down for a supposed insult. Mr. Payne relates
that after the Revolution he called upon Washington at Mount Vernon.
"As I drew near the house," he says, "I began to experience a rising
fear lest he should call to mind the blow I had given him in former
days. Washington met me at the door with a kind welcome, and conducted
me into an adjoining room where Mrs. Washington sat.
"'Here, my dear,' said he, presenting me to his lady, 'here is the
little man you have so often heard me talk of, and who, on a difference
between us one day, had the resolution to knock me down, big as I am; I
know you will honor him as he deserves, for I assure you he has the
heart of a true Virginian.'"
Mr. Payne adds: "He said this with an air which convinced me that his
long familiarity with war had not robbed him of his nobleness of heart.
And Mrs. Washington looked at him as if he appeared to her greater and
lovelier than ever."
The same industry distinguished him on his return to his farms, for
which he was so well known before the war. His rule was to rise at four
o'clock and retire at nine. The forenoon was employed in labor and
overseeing the work on his plantations. The presence of company did not
interrupt his systematic methods. He would say to such:
"Gentlemen, I must beg leave of absence this forenoon. Here are books,
music, and amusements; consider yourselves at home, and be happy."
But Washington was not allowed to remain long in private life. In 1787,
a convention assembled in Philadelphia to form a confederacy of States.
Washington was a member of that body, and was unanimously made its
presiding officer. The convention sat four months, in which time the
confederacy of States was consummated, called the United States, with
the present Constitution essentially.
This new order of things required the election of a president, and
Washington was unanimously elected. He was inaugurated on the thirtieth
day of April, 1789, in the city of New York, then the seat of
government. That the position was not one of his own seeking is quite
evident from a letter which he wrote to General Knox:
"My movements to the chair of government will be accompanied by feelings
not unlike those of a culprit who is going to the place of his
execution, so unwilling am I, in the evening of life, nearly consumed in
public cares, to quit a peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties,
without the competency of political skill, abilities, and inclinations
which are necessary to manage the helm."
His journey to New York was accomplished in his own carriage, drawn by
four horses. No king or conqueror was ever treated to a more
enthusiastic ovation than was he from Mount Vernon to New York. The
expression of a lad to his father indicates the exalted notions which
the common people entertained of the great general. On getting a good
view of him the lad exclaimed:
"Why, pa, he is only a man, after all!"
At Trenton, where he crossed the Delaware with his retreating, depleted
army, his welcome was both imposing and beautiful. Upon the bridge an
arch was erected, adorned with laurel leaves and flowers. Upon the
crown of the arch, formed of leaves and flowers, were the words:
"DECEMBER 26TH, 1776."
Beneath was the sentence:
"THE DEFENDER OF THE MOTHERS WILL BE THE
PROTECTOR OF THE DAUGHTERS!"
The president was obliged to pass under this arch to enter Trenton,
where the female portion of the population met him. On one side little
girls dressed in white stood, each one bearing a basket of flowers. On
the other side were arranged the young ladies, and behind them the
married women. The moment Washington and his suit approached the arch,
the girls scattered their flowers before him, and the whole company of
females sung the following ode, written for the occasion by Governor
Howell:
"Welcome, mighty chief! once more
Welcome to this grateful shore!
Now no mercenary foe
Aims again the fatal blow.
Aims at thee the fatal blow.
Virgins fair and matrons grave,
Those thy conquering arm did save,
Build for thee triumphal bowers.
Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers!
Strew your hero's way with flowers!"
The reader may well suppose that his reception in New York as the
_first_ President of the United States, and the "greatest general on
earth," as many supposed, was grand indeed. No expense or pains were
spared to make it worthy of the occasion.
Washington called to his cabinet, Thomas Jefferson, Secretary of State;
Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury; General Knox, Secretary
of War; Edmund Randolph, Attorney-General; and John Jay, Chief Justice.
He said, in his inaugural address:
"When I contemplate the interposition of Providence, as it was visibly
manifested in guiding us through the Revolution, in preparing us for the
reception of a general government, and in conciliating the good will of
the people of America towards one another after its adoption, I feel
myself oppressed and almost overwhelmed with a sense of the divine
munificence. I feel that nothing is due to my personal agency in all
those complicated and wonderful events, except what can simply be
attributed to the exertions of an honest zeal for the good of my
country."
The parade and pomp attending the first presidency in New York City
exceeded anything of the kind we behold at the present day. Considering
the condition of the country, as compared with its wealth and prominence
now, the style of living and display in presidential circles was
remarkable. Washington rode in a chariot drawn by six fine horses,
attended by a retinue of servants. These horses were expensively
caparisoned. His stable, under the charge of Bishop, his favorite
servant, held twelve of the finest horses in the country. Two of them
were splendid white chargers for the saddle. After the seat of
government was removed to Philadelphia, the stables were under the care
of German John, "and the grooming of the white chargers will rather
surprise the moderns." Mr. Custis says:
"The night before the horses were to appear on the street, they were
covered over with a paste, of which whiting was the principal component
part; then the animals were swathed in body-cloths, and left to sleep
upon clean straw. In the morning the composition had become hard, was
well rubbed in and curried and brushed, which process gave to the coats
a beautiful, glossy, and satin-like appearance. The hoofs were then
blacked and polished, the mouths washed, teeth picked and cleansed, and
the leopard-skin housings being properly adjusted, the white chargers
were led out for service."
While the seat of government was in New York the president visited the
New England States. He had been brought almost to the door of death by a
malignant carbuncle, and it was thought, on his recovery, that such a
tour would be beneficial. Besides, the people of New England were
clamorous to see him.
The sickness referred to confined him to his room six weeks, during
which time "Dr. Bard never quitted him." The public anxiety was very
great, and the president understood full well that his condition was
very critical. One day he said to the doctor:
"I want your candid opinion as to the probable termination of this
sickness."
"Your condition is serious, but I expect that you will recover," Dr.
Bard replied.
"Do not flatter me with vain hopes," responded the president. "I am not
afraid to die, and I am prepared to hear the worst."
"I confess, Mr. President, that I am not without serious apprehensions,"
added the doctor.
"Whether to-night or twenty years hence makes no difference; I know that
I am in the hands of a good Providence," was the royal answer of the
Christian ruler.
His tour through the New England States was attended with every
demonstration of honor that love and confidence could devise. At Boston
the president's well-known punctuality set aside all conventional rules,
and asserted its superiority. A company of cavalry volunteered to
escort him to Salem. The time appointed to start was 8 o'clock in the
morning. When the Old South clock struck the hour, the escort had not
appeared; nevertheless Washington started, and reached Charles River
bridge before the cavalry overtook him. The commander of the cavalry
once belonged to Washington's "military family," and the latter turned
to him and said:
"Major, I thought you had been too long in my family not to know when
it was eight o'clock."
At Philadelphia, to which place the seat of government was removed in
1790, the president frequently entertained members of Congress at his
own table. They soon learned that there was no waiting for guests in his
mansion. Precisely at the hour, Washington took his seat at the table,
whether guests had arrived or not. One day a member came in ten minutes
after the family were seated at the dining table. The president greeted
him with the remark: "We are punctual here."
He arranged with a gentleman to meet him with reference to the purchase
of a pair of horses. He named the hour. The owner of the horses was ten
minutes behind the time, and he found the president engaged with other
parties. It was a whole week before he was able to see the president
again. The latter taught the dilatory man an important lesson.
At Philadelphia, a house belonging to Robert Morris, the national
financier, was rented, and converted into a presidential mansion as
imposing and elegant, for that day, as the "White House" at Washington
is for our day. It was not contemplated to make Philadelphia the
permanent seat of government. Washington thought the capital should be
located on the Potomac, and it was respect for his judgment especially
that located it where it is.
One Reuben Rouzy owed Washington a thousand pounds. An agent of the
president, without his knowledge, brought an action against Rouzy for
the money, in consequence of which he was lodged in jail. A friend of
the debtor suggested that Washington might know nothing of the affair,
whereupon Rouzy sent a petition to the president for his release. The
next post brought an order for his release, with a full discharge, and
a severe reprimand to the agent.
Rouzy was restored to his family, who ever afterwards remembered their
"beloved Washington" in their daily prayers. Providence smiled upon the
debtor, so that in a few years he offered the whole amount, with
interest, to Washington.
"The debt is already discharged," said Washington.
"The debt of my family to you, the preserver of their parent, can never
be discharged," answered Rouzy. "I insist upon your taking it."
"I will receive it only upon one condition," added the president.
"And what is that?"
"That I may divide it among your children," replied Washington.
The affair was finally settled on this basis, and the amount was divided
at once among the children.
The success of his first presidential term created the universal desire
that he should serve a second term.
"It is impossible; my private business demands my attention," he said to
Jefferson.
"Public business is more important," suggested Jefferson. "Besides, the
confidence of the whole Union is centred in you."
"I long for home and rest," retorted Washington. "I am wearing out with
public service."
"I trust and pray God that you will determine to make a further
sacrifice of your tranquility and happiness to the public good,"
remarked Hamilton, joining in the plea for a second term of service.
"It will be time enough for you to have a successor when it shall please
God to call you from this world," said Robert Morris; thus limiting the
demands of his country only by the demand of death.
His objections were overcome, and he was unanimously elected to a second
term, and was inaugurated March 4, 1793, in Philadelphia.
His second presidential term proved equally successful with the first.
Serious difficulties with England, France, and Spain were settled; a
treaty with the Indian tribes was affected, and a humane policy adopted
towards them. The mechanic arts, agriculture, manufactures, and internal
improvements, advanced rapidly under his administration. Domestic
troubles disappeared, and peace and harmony prevailed throughout the
land; in view of which, Jefferson said:
"Never did nature and fortune combine more perfectly to make a man great
and to place him in the same constellation with whatever worthies have
merited from man an everlasting remembrance."
During his presidency he made a tour through the Southern States. His
arrangement for the same furnishes a remarkable illustration of the
order and punctuality for which he was known from boyhood. Thinking that
the heads of the several State departments might have occasion to write
to him, he wrote out his route thus:
"I shall be, on the eighth of April, at Fredericksburg; the eleventh, at
Richmond; the fourteenth, at Petersburg; the sixteenth, at Halifax; the
eighteenth, at Tarborough; the twentieth, at Newtown;" and thus on to
the end, a journey of nineteen hundred miles.
Custis says: "His punctuality on that long journey astonished every one.
Scarcely would the artillery-men unlimber the cannon when the order
would be given, 'Light your matches; the white chariot is in full
view!'" Washington rode in a white chariot.
His industry, which had become proverbial, enabled him to perform a
great amount of work. General Henry Lee once said to him:
"Mr. President, we are amazed at the amount of work you are able to
accomplish."
"I rise at four o'clock, sir, and a great deal of the work I perform is
done while others are asleep," was Washington's reply.
At the same time his _thoroughness_ and method appeared in everything.
Mr. Sparks says:
"During his presidency it was likewise his custom to subject the
treasury reports and accompanying documents to the process of tutelar
condensation, with a vast expenditure of labor and patience."
Another biographer says:
"His accounts, while engaged in the service of his country, were so
accurately kept, that to this hour they are an example held up before
the nations."
In all these things the reader must note that "the boy is father of the
man."
Under his administration there was no demand, as now, for "civil service
reform." His nearest relative and best friend enjoyed no advantage over
others for position. Real qualifications and experience for office he
required. Alluding to the severity with which he treated the idea of
giving friends and favorites position, a public man remarked:
"It is unfortunate to be a Virginian."
At the close of his long service, he wrote:
"In every nomination to office, I have endeavored, as far as my own
knowledge extended, or information could be obtained, to make fitness of
character my primary object."
At one time two applicants for an important office presented their
appeals, through friends. One of them was an intimate friend of the
president, often at his table. The other was a political enemy, though a
man of experience. No one really expected that his political enemy would
be appointed, but he was.
"Your appointment was unjust," a person dared to say to Washington.