Washington and the American Republic, Vol. 3.
Date: 2008-06-24T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Washington; George; 1732-1799; United States -- History -- Revolution; 1775-1783; United States -- History -- Confederation; 1783-1789; United States -- History -- 1789-1801

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Title: Washington and the American Republic, Vol. 3.

Author: Benson John Lossing

Release date: June 24, 2008 [eBook #25889]

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WASHINGTON AND THE AMERICAN REPUBLIC, VOL. 3. ***

WASHINGTON

AND THE

AMERICAN REPUBLIC

Portrait of Washington (After Stuart)

WASHINGTON

AND THE

AMERICAN REPUBLIC.

BY

Benson J. Lossing,

AUTHOR OF “PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WAR,” “FIELD-BOOK OF THE
REVOLUTION,” “FIELD-BOOK OF THE WAR OF 1812,” ETC. ETC.

VOLUME III.

NEW YORK:
VIRTUE & YORSTON,
12 Dey Street.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by Virtue &
Yorston, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

Washington at Valley Forge

Transcriber's Note: The caret (^) has been used to mark subscript in the text version. A Table of Contents has been added. Obvious printer errors, including punctuation, have been corrected. All other inconsistencies have been left as they were in the original.

CONTENTS

PAGE

ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER I.1
CHAPTER II.13
CHAPTER III.32
CHAPTER IV.40
CHAPTER V.53
CHAPTER VI.63
CHAPTER VII.74
CHAPTER VIII.92
CHAPTER IX.103
CHAPTER X.114
CHAPTER XI.125
CHAPTER XII.135
CHAPTER XIII.147
CHAPTER XIV.161
CHAPTER XV.167
CHAPTER XVI.178
CHAPTER XVII.192
CHAPTER XVIII.205
CHAPTER XIX.219
CHAPTER XX.230
CHAPTER XXI.243
CHAPTER XXII.258
CHAPTER XXIII.271
CHAPTER XXIV.283
CHAPTER XXV.292
CHAPTER XXVI.307
CHAPTER XXVII.323
CHAPTER XXVIII.334
CHAPTER XXIX.348
CHAPTER XXX.368
CHAPTER XXXI.378
CHAPTER XXXII.390
CHAPTER XXXIII.417
CHAPTER XXXIV.435
CHAPTER XXXV.447
CHAPTER XXXVI.465
CHAPTER XXXVII.479
CHAPTER XXXVIII.491
CHAPTER XXXIX.501
CHAPTER XL.517
CHAPTER XLI.527
CHAPTER XLII.550
CHAPTER XLIII.573
CHAPTER XLIV.584

WASHINGTON MEMORIALS.605

ANALYTICAL INDEX.613

ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOL. III.

- Portrait of Washington (After Stuart)Frontispiece

- Washington at Valley ForgeVignette Title

- Washington's Headquarters Near Newburg7

- Entrance of the American Army into New York, November 25, 178333

- Washington Presiding in the Convention, 178763

- Portraits of Rufus King, John Dickinson, Gouverneur Morris, Oliver Ellsworth, and John Rutledge64

- Washington Entering Trenton87

- Reception of President Washington at New York, April 23, 178989

- Portraits of Commanders Hopkins, Talbot, Paul Jones, Dale, and Barry295

- Portrait of John Adams472

WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER I.

TOP

washington receives cheering news from greene—siege of fort ninety-six—success of partisan corps elsewhere—capture of augusta by the americans—rawdon approaches ninety-six—greene abandons the siege—rawdon retires to orangeburg followed by greene—greene encamps on the high hills of santee—stewart and cruger at orangeburg—rawdon goes to england—battle at eutaw springs—the upper country in possession of the americans—services of marion and other partisans—british confined to the seaboard—death of john parke custis—washington adopts his children—washington co-operates with congress—joins the army on the hudson—discontents in the army—proposition to make washington king—his rebuke—peace movements—washington's caution—junction of the french and american armies—evacuation of savannah and charleston.

1781

We have observed, that with the capture of Cornwallis and his army, the War for Independence was virtually ended, but that some blood flowed afterward, and that hostile forces were arrayed against each other for several months longer, before the two nations agreed to fight no more. Let us take a brief survey of events, from the siege of Yorktown until the declaration of peace, and the departure of the last British troops from our shores.

On the evening of the ninth of October, just as Lincoln, having completed the first parallel before Yorktown, ordered a battery to open upon the British works, Washington received encouraging intelligence from General Greene in the far South. Greene was then encamped upon the High Hills of Santee, having, a little more than a week previous to the date of his letter, been engaged in a bloody battle with the enemy at Eutaw Springs.

In a former chapter we left Greene on his march to attack Fort Ninety-Six, situated in Abbeville district in South Carolina, within about six miles of the Saluda river. It was then garrisoned by five hundred and fifty loyalists, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Cruger, of New York. Sumter having cut off all communication between Camden and Ninety-Six, Cruger had not received Rawdon's orders to join Brown at Augusta, but remained, and was using every endeavor to strengthen his works.

Greene arrived before Ninety-Six on the twenty-second of May, with less than a thousand regulars and a few raw militia. Kosciuszko, the brave Pole, was his chief engineer, and under his direction the Americans commenced making regular approaches, by parallels, for the works were too strong to be taken by assault. For almost a month the work went on, enlivened by an occasional sortie and skirmish. Then news came that Lord Rawdon was approaching with a strong force to the relief of Cruger. Greene's troops were full of spirit, and were anxious to storm the works before his lordship's arrival. Consent was given by the commander, and on the eighteenth an assault was made, and a bloody contest ensued. The Americans were repulsed, and on the following day Greene raised the siege and retreated across the Saluda. Rawdon pursued him a short distance, and, having accomplished the object of his errand, wheeled, and marched toward Orangeburg.

While the siege of Ninety-Six was in progress, partisan corps were elsewhere successful. Lee captured Fort Galphin, twelve miles below Augusta, and then sent an officer to the latter post to demand its surrender from Brown. The summons was disregarded, and Lee, Pickens, and Clarke, commenced a siege. It lasted several days, and on the fifth of June, the fort and its dependencies at Augusta were surrendered to the republicans. Lee and Pickens then joined Greene at Ninety-Six, and with him retreated beyond the Saluda.

And now Greene and Rawdon changed their relative positions, the former becoming the pursuer of the latter, in his march toward Orangeburg. Finding Rawdon strongly entrenched there, Greene deemed it prudent not to attack him; and the sickly season approaching, he crossed the Congaree with his little army, and encamped upon the High Hills of Santee, below Camden, where pure air and water might be found in abundance.

Considering the post at Ninety-Six quite untenable, Rawdon ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Cruger to abandon it and join him at Orangeburg. There Rawdon was met by Lieutenant-Colonel Stewart, who had come up from Charleston with an Irish regiment. As Greene had gone into summer-quarters apparently, and the American partisans were just then quiet, his lordship left all his forces in charge of Stewart, went down to Charleston, and embarked for Europe to seek the restoration of his health.

Soon after encamping on the High Hills of Santee, Greene detached Sumter with about a thousand light troops to scour the lower country and beat up the British posts in the vicinity of Charleston. His assistants were those bold partisans, Lee, Marion, Horry, the Hamptons, and other brave republican leaders, with troops accustomed to the swamps and sandy lowlands. These performed excellent service in preparing the way for the expulsion of the enemy from the interior of South Carolina.

Early in August Greene was reinforced by North Carolina troops, under General Sumner; and toward the close of the month, he broke up his encampment, crossed the Wateree, and marched upon Orangeburg. Stewart, who had been joined by Cruger, immediately retreated to Eutaw Springs, near the southwest bank of the Santee, and there encamped. Greene followed, and on the morning of the eighth of September, a very severe battle commenced. The British were finally expelled from the camp, leaving their tents standing, and almost everything but their arms behind them.

Greene's troops, unmindful of their commander's orders, had spread themselves through the abandoned camp to plunder, eat, and drink, when the enemy unexpectedly and suddenly renewed the battle. After a bloody conflict of four hours the Americans were compelled to give way. “It was by far the most obstinate fight I ever saw,” Greene wrote to Washington. Stewart feeling insecure, for the American partisan legions were hovering around him, retreated toward Charleston that night.

On the morning of the ninth Greene advanced and took possession of the battle-field, and sent detachments in pursuit of Stewart. A victory was claimed by both parties. Washington seemed to consider it as such for Greene. “Fortune,” he said, in a letter to him, “must have been coy indeed, had she not yielded at last to so persevering a pursuer as you have been.” Yet there was no victory in the case. The advantage evidently lay with the Americans. The contest had been a most sanguinary one. The loss of the Americans in killed, wounded, and missing, was five hundred and fifty-five; that of the British six hundred and ninety-three. The bravery, skill, and caution of Greene, and the general good conduct of his troops, were applauded by the whole country. Congress ordered a gold medal to be struck in commemoration of the event, and presented to Greene. A British standard captured on that occasion was also presented to him.

Many of his troops being sick, Greene again retired to the High Hills of Santee, where he remained until the middle of November. There, on the thirtieth of October, he was informed of the glorious events at Yorktown, and the day was made jubilant with the rejoicings of the army.

The whole upper country of the Carolinas and Georgia was now in possession of the republicans. Nothing remained to be done, but to drive in the British outposts, and hem them within the narrow precincts of their lines at Charleston and Savannah. Marion, Sumter, Lee, and other partisans, performed this service effectually.

Greene finally crossed the Congaree and moved with his army to the vicinity of Charleston. The object of his campaign was accomplished. He had driven the enemy to the margin of the sea, and he was prepared to keep them there. Marion and his men lingered around the headwaters of the Cooper river to watch their movements, and to prevent their incursions beyond Charleston. St. Clair had come down from Yorktown, and had driven the British from Wilmington. Governor Rutledge had called the legislators of South Carolina together at Jacksonboro', to re-establish civil government in that state, and Greene's army lay as a guard between them and the enemy at Charleston. In that city and Savannah only, did the British have a foothold south of the Delaware at the close of 1781; and Wayne, with vigilant eye and supple limb, lay not far from the latter place, closely watching the British there. The war was virtually at an end in the South.

Let us turn to the consideration of Washington's movements after the capitulation at Yorktown.

In the midst of the rejoicings because of the great victory, Washington's heart was made sad by domestic affliction. His stepson, John Parke Custis, who had followed him to the field as his aid-de-camp, sickened before the close of the siege. Anxious to participate in the pleasures of the victory, he remained in camp until the completion of the surrender, when he retired to Eltham, the seat of Colonel Bassett, who had married Mrs. Washington's sister. His malady (camp-fever) had increased, and Washington sent Doctor Craik with him. A courier was also despatched to Mount Vernon for his wife and mother; and on the fifth of November, having arranged all public business at Yorktown, Washington set out for Eltham. He arrived there, as he wrote to Lafayette, “time enough to see poor Mr. Custis breathe his last.”

The grief of Washington was very great, and he wept bitterly. He had watched over that young man from his earliest childhood with paternal affection and solicitude; and with pride he had seen him take public position as a member of the Virginia assembly. Now, at the age of twenty-eight years, he was taken from him. The mother was almost unconsolable, and the young wife was sorely smitten by the bereavement. Washington's heart deeply sympathized with them, and there, in the death-chamber, he formally adopted the two younger children of Mrs. Custis, who thenceforth became members of his family. These were Eleanor Parke Custis, who married Lawrence Lewis, the favorite nephew of Washington, and George Washington Parke Custis, who lived until the autumn of 1857.

Washington proceeded directly from Eltham to Mount Vernon, only halting at Fredericksburg to see his mother, and join in some public ceremonials there, in honor of himself and the French officers. But he sought not the quiet of his home for purposes of repose, for he was not to be seduced into the practices engendered by a fancied security because of the late brilliant victory. On the contrary, his apprehensions were painfully awakened to the danger which the prevalence of such confidence might occasion, and he wrote to General Greene, saying:—

“I shall remain but a few days here, and shall proceed to Philadelphia, where 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 this error, I will employ every means in my power, and if unhappily we sink into that fatal mistake no part of the blame shall be mine.”

A little later he wrote to Greene from Philadelphia, saying: “I am apprehensive that the states, elated by the late success, and taking it for granted that Great Britain will no longer support so losing a contest, will relax in their preparations for the next campaign. I am detained here by Congress to assist in the arrangements for the next year; and I shall not fail, in conjunction with the financier, the minister of foreign affairs, and the secretary at war, who are all most heartily well-disposed, to impress upon Congress, and get them to impress upon the respective states, the necessity of the most vigorous exertions.”

Washington's Headquarters Near Newburg

Washington had been received in Philadelphia with distinguished honors, at the close of November. With his usual energy and industry, he pressed forward military arrangements for the campaign of 1782, and by his continual importunities, he awakened Congress to the importance of being prepared for another year of active duty in the field. On the tenth of December that body, by resolution, made a requisition of men and money from the southern states, and the resolve was warmly seconded by Washington, in letters to the respective governors of those states. Franklin, at the same time, was using the most strenuous exertions in France to procure more aid from that power; and when intelligence of the capitulation of Yorktown reached the French court, Vergennes promised a loan of six millions to the United States.

Washington remained four months in Philadelphia, and then joined the army near Newburg, on the Hudson. The allied forces had been dissolved. The troops under the Marquis St. Simon had sailed from the Chesapeake in De Grasse's fleet early in November; the French troops, under Rochambeau, remained in Virginia; the remainder of the American army, after St. Clair's force was detached to the South, proceeded northward, under the command of Lincoln, and took post on the Hudson and in the Jerseys, so as to be ready to operate against New York in the spring; and Lafayette, perceiving no probability of active service immediately, obtained leave of absence from the Congress, and returned to France to visit his family.

We have already noticed the proceedings in the British house of commons on the subject of peace with the Americans. Early in May, 1782, Sir Guy Carleton arrived in New York as the successor of Sir Henry Clinton in the chief command of the British forces; and in a letter dated the seventh of that month, he informed Washington that he and Admiral Digby were joint commissioners to make arrangements for a truce or peace. Even this friendly approach of British officials did not make Washington any the less vigilant and active, and he continued his preparations for further hostilities, with all the means in his power.

With the dawning of the day of peace great discontents in the army were developed. It prevailed equally among officers and private soldiers, and originated in the destitute condition of the troops at that time, and the conviction that the army would be disbanded without provision being made for the liquidation of the claims upon the government for the pay of arrearages, and the promised half-pay of the officers for a term of years after the conclusion of the war. The prospect was, indeed, gloomy. For a long time the public treasury had been empty; and thousands of the soldiers, many of them invalids, made so by their hard service for their country, would be compelled to seek a livelihood in the midst of the desolation which war had produced. In this state of things, and with such prospects, many sighed for a change. They lost faith in the republican form of government, as they saw it in its practical workings under the Articles of Confederation, and they earnestly desired something stronger—perhaps an elective or constitutional monarchy.

Washington had perceived these growing discontents with anxiety, and was urging Congress to do something to allay them, when he received a letter from Colonel Lewis Nicola, a veteran and well-bred officer of the Pennsylvania line, which filled him with the greatest apprehensions. In it Nicola, no doubt, spoke the sentiments of a great many of his fellow-officers and soldiers at that time. He attributed all current evils, and those in anticipation, to the existing form of government, and then urged the necessity and expediency of adopting a mixed one like that of England. Having fortified his position by argument, Nicola added:—

“In this case it will, I believe, be uncontroverted, that the same abilities which have led us through difficulties apparently unsurmountable by human power to victory and glory—those qualities, that have merited and obtained the universal esteem and veneration of an army—would be most likely to conduct and direct us in the smoother paths of peace. Some people have so connected the ideas of tyranny and monarchy as to find it very difficult to separate them. It may, therefore, be requisite to give the head of such a constitution as I propose some title apparently more moderate; but, if all other things were once adjusted, I believe strong arguments might be produced for admitting the title of king, which I conceive would be attended with some national advantage.”

How little did even Nicola, who was very intimate with Washington, comprehend the true character of his disinterested patriotism in all its breadth and depth! The commander-in-chief perceived that Nicola was only the organ of a dangerous military faction, whose object was to create a new government through the active energies of the army, and to place their present leader at the head. He sympathized with the army in its distresses, but this movement met with his severest rebuke.

“Sir,” said Washington, in a responsive letter to Nicola, “With a mixture of great surprise and astonishment, I have read with attention the sentiments you have submitted to my perusal. Be assured, sir, no occurrence in the course of this war has given me more painful sensations than your information of there being such ideas existing in the army as you have expressed, and which I must view with abhorrence and reprehend with severity. For the present, the communication of them will rest in my own bosom, unless some further agitation of the matter shall make a disclosure necessary. I am much at a loss to conceive what part of my conduct could have given encouragement to an address which to me seems big with the greatest mischiefs that can befall my country. If I am not deceived in the knowledge of myself, you could not have found a person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable. At the same time, in justice to my own feelings, I must add, that no man possesses a more serious wish to see ample justice done to the army than I do; and, as far as my power and influence, in a constitutional way, extend, they shall be employed to the utmost of my abilities to effect it, should there be any occasion. Let me conjure you, then, if you have any regard for your country, concern for yourself or posterity, or respect for me, to banish these thoughts from your mind, and never communicate, as from yourself or any one else, a sentiment of the like nature. I am, etc.”

1782

This stern rebuke at once silenced the faction, and checked all further movement in the direction of king-making. How brightly did the patriotism of Washington shine out in this affair! At the head of a victorious army; beloved and venerated by it and by the people; with personal influence unbounded, and with power in possession for consummating almost any political scheme not apparently derogatory to good government, he receives from an officer whom he greatly esteems, and who speaks for himself and others, an offer of the sceptre of supreme rule and the crown of royalty! What a bribe! Yet he does not hesitate for a moment; he does not stop to revolve in his mind any ideas of advantage in the proposed scheme, but at once rebukes the author sternly but kindly, and impresses his signet of strongest disapprobation upon the proposal. History can not present a parallel.

The summer of 1782 passed away without much apparent progress being made toward a definite and permanent arrangement for peace. At the beginning of August, Carleton and Digby wrote a joint letter to Washington, informing him that they had good authority for saying, that negotiations for peace had been commenced at Paris, by commissioners, and that the British representatives in that conference, would first propose the independence of the United States as a basis. But Washington, taught by past experience, was still doubtful of the reality of all these professions. “Jealousy and precaution,” he said, “at least can do no harm. Too much confidence and supineness may be pernicious in the extreme.”

No wonder he still doubted. The British government had not yet made any offer for a general cessation of hostilities. The Americans had allies whose interests must be consulted. Hostilities might cease in the United States, according to recent enactments of Parliament, but the very forces then on our shores, might be sent to make war upon the French dominions in the West Indies. The public faith required that the interests of France should be considered in the negotiations for peace; and until a cessation of general hostilities should be officially proclaimed by Great Britain, Washington resolved to be prepared for a renewal of the war.

Thus viewing affairs, the commander-in-chief advised Rochambeau, who was then (August, 1782) at Baltimore, to march his troops to the banks of the Hudson, and form a junction with the American army. This was accomplished at the middle of September, the first division of the French army crossing the Hudson at King's ferry on the fifteenth. The American forces were at Verplanck's Point, opposite, to receive them, all arranged in their best attire, their tents decked with evergreens, and their bands playing French marches.

In the meantime British troops had been leaving the southern shores of the United States, and others were preparing to depart. They evacuated Savannah on the eleventh of July, and sailed for New York, when the “keys of the city of Savannah” were delivered to Major Jackson, by a committee of British officers, under the direction of General Wayne. On the same day the American army, led by Wayne, entered the city, and royal authority in every form ceased for ever in Georgia.

General Leslie, the British commander at Charleston, was not in a condition to leave on account of a want of provisions. When he was apprized of the proceedings in Parliament in favor of peace, he proposed to General Greene a cessation of hostilities. Like a true soldier, Greene took no such responsibility, but referred the whole matter to Congress, while relaxing not one whit of his vigilance. Leslie then asked permission to purchase supplies for his army, that he might evacuate Charleston. The wary Greene refused to allow it, for in so doing he might be nourishing a viper that would sting him.

Leslie then resorted to force to obtain supplies; and late in August he sent an expedition up the Combahee for the purpose. General Gist, with some Maryland troops, was there to oppose him, and the British were compelled to retreat to Charleston. In the skirmish that ensued, the noble Colonel John Laurens, who had volunteered in the service, was killed. He was mourned by all as a great public loss; and his was about the last blood that flowed in the War for Independence.[1]

On the fourteenth of December following, the British evacuated Charleston, and on the ensuing day the Americans, under General Greene, marched into the city and took possession. He and his army were greeted as deliverers. From the windows, balconies, and housetops, handkerchiefs waved, and the mingled voices of women and children shouted, “God bless you, gentlemen! Welcome! Welcome!” That evening the last hostile sail was seen beyond Charleston bar, as a white speck upon the horizon. At the close of the year only New York city was held in possession by British troops.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] John Laurens was a son of Henry Laurens, president of the continental Congress in 1777. He joined the army early in 1777, and was wounded in the battle of Germantown. He continued in the army (with the exception of a few months), under the immediate command of Washington, until after the surrender of Cornwallis, in which event he was a conspicuous participant as one of the commissioners appointed to arrange the terms. Early in 1781, he was sent on a special mission to France to solicit a loan of money and to procure arms. He was successful, and on his return received the thanks of Congress. Within three days after his arrival in Philadelphia, he had settled all matters with Congress, and departed for the army in the South under Greene. There he did good service, until his death, on the Combahee, on the twenty-seventh of August, 1782, when he was but twenty-nine years of age. Washington, who made him his aid, loved him as a child. He declared that he could discover no fault in him, unless it was intrepidity, bordering on rashness. “Poor Laurens,” wrote Greene, “has fallen in a paltry little skirmish. You knew his temper, and I predicted his fate. The love of military glory made him seek it upon occasions unworthy his rank. The state will feel his loss.” He was buried upon the plantation of Mrs. Stock, in whose family he spent the evening previous to his death in cheerful conversation. A small enclosure, without a stone, marks his grave.

CHAPTER II.

TOP

death of joseph huddy—retaliation resolved upon—case of captain asgill—peace proceedings in the british parliament—preliminary treaty negotiated and signed at paris—discontents in the army—memorial of officers sent to congress—inflammatory address circulated in camp—meeting of officers called—washington determines to control the matter—the meeting and its results—washington's address—its effects—patriotic resolutions—intelligence of peace received by washington—its proclamation to the army—justice to the soldiers—furloughs freely granted—virtual dissolution of the army—conference between washington and carleton—departure of lafayette—cincinnati society—address to governors of states—mutiny of pennsylvania troops—congress adjourns to princeton—washington's tour to the north—invited to princeton—a bronze statue of washington voted by congress.

A very painful affair occupied the attention of Washington in the autumn of 1782, when his judgment and his sympathies were placed in opposition. In the neighborhood of Freehold, in New Jersey, lurked a band of marauding tories, known as Pine Robbers. One of these named Philip White, notorious for his depredations, had been caught by the New Jersey people, and killed while attempting to escape, when being conducted to Monmouth jail. His partisans in New York vowed revenge. Captain Huddy, a warm whig, then in confinement in New York, was taken by a party of loyalists under Captain Lippincott, to the Jersey shore, near Sandy Hook, and hanged. Upon Huddy's breast the infamous Lippincott placed a label, on which, after avowing that the act was one of vengeance, he placed the words in large letters—

“UP GOES HUDDY FOR PHILIP WHITE.”

From the neighboring country went forth a strong cry for retaliation. Washington submitted the case to a board of general officers, when it was agreed that Lippincott should be demanded as a murderer, for execution, and if Sir Henry Clinton would not give him up, retaliation should be exercised upon some British officer in the possession of the Americans.

Sir Henry refused. At the same time the Congress, by resolution, approved Washington's course, and he proceeded to select a British officer for execution, by lot, from among prisoners at Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It fell upon Captain Asgill, a young man nineteen years of age, an officer of the guards, and only son and heir of Sir Charles Asgill. Efforts were immediately set on foot to save Asgill. For a long time the matter remained in suspense, but Washington, firm in his purpose, was deaf to all entreaty. Lippincott was tried by a court-martial, and acquitted, it appearing that he was acting under the verbal orders of Governor Franklin, who was at the head of the board of associated loyalists. General Carleton, meanwhile, had succeeded Sir Henry Clinton in command at New York. He condemned the proceedings in the case of Huddy, and broke up the board of loyalists. Thus, in time, the most prominent features of the case became changed.

Meanwhile Lady Asgill had written a most pathetic letter to the Count de Vergennes, the French minister, imploring him to intercede on behalf of her son. Vergennes, at the request of the king and queen, to whom he showed the letter, wrote to Washington, soliciting the liberation of young Asgill. The count's letter was referred to Congress. That body had already admitted the prisoner to parole; and to the great relief of Washington, he received orders from Congress, early in November, to set Captain Asgill at liberty.

The case of Asgill excited Washington's deepest sympathies. He was an amiable and honorable young man. “I felt for him,” wrote the commander-in-chief, “on many accounts; and not the least, when viewing him as a man of honor and sentiment, I considered how unfortunate it was for him that a wretch who possessed neither, should be the means of causing him a single pang or a disagreeable sensation.”

On the twenty-fifth of July, 1782, the British Parliament passed a bill to enable the king to consent to the independence of the United States, and the monarch signed it, though with reluctance. Richard Oswald was immediately appointed, with full powers, to negotiate a treaty of peace with the new republic, on the basis of its independence. The American ministers abroad, Franklin, Adams, and Jay, were constituted commissioners for the United States, to treat for peace, and on the thirtieth of November, preliminary articles were signed by them respectively at Paris. Henry Laurens, who had arrived at Paris, from London, while the negotiations were in progress, had joined the American commissioners, and he also signed the treaty.

Washington, meanwhile, had been anxiously preparing the way for the anticipated disbanding of the army. Congress, through utter inability, had done really nothing to allay the discontents in the army; and the commander-in-chief was fearful, that during the idle hours of a winter encampment, those discontents would assume the form of absolute mutiny. He drew his forces to his former encampment, near Newburg, and there calmly awaited the issue of events.

Almost daily there were bold conferences of officers and soldiers in the camp, when the prospects of the future were discussed, sometimes angrily, and always warmly. Finally, in December, 1782, the officers, in behalf of the army, sent a committee with a memorial to the Congress, in which they represented the real hardships of their condition, and proposed that a specific sum should be granted them for the money actually due them, and as a commutation for the half-pay of the officers. This memorial elicited a long and warm debate in Congress, its character and its propositions being viewed differently by different minds. The entire winter passed away, and nothing satisfactory was done in the supreme legislature for the suffering soldier.

1783

At length forbearance appeared to many as no longer a virtue, and some officers resolved not to wait for justice in idle expectation of its appearance from the halls of legislation. A plan was arranged among a few, “for assembling the officers, not in mass, but by representation; and for passing a series of resolutions, which, in the hands of their committee, and of their auxiliaries in Congress, would form a new and powerful lever” of operations. Major John Armstrong, a young officer six-and-twenty years of age, and aid-de-camp of Gates, was chosen to write an address to the army, suitable to the subject, and this, with an anonymous notification of a meeting of officers, was circulated privately on the tenth of March, 1783.[2]

That address exhibited superior talent in the writer, and its tone was calculated to make a deep impression upon the minds of the malcontents. After preparing their feelings for a relinquishment of faith in the justice of their country, which had been already much weakened by real and fancied injuries, he remarked:—

“Faith has its limits as well as temper, and there are points beyond which neither can be stretched without sinking into cowardice or plunging into credulity. This, my friends, I conceive to be your situation; hurried to the verge of both, another step would ruin you forever. To be tame and unprovoked, when injuries press hard upon you, is more than weakness; but to look up for kinder usage, without one manly effort of your own, would fix your character, and show the world how richly you deserved the chains you broke.” He then took a review of the past and present—their wrongs and their complaints—their petitions and the denials of redress—and then said: “If this, then, be your treatment while the swords you wear are necessary for the defense of America, what have you to expect from peace, when your voice shall sink, and your strength dissipate by division; when these very swords, the instruments and companions of your glory, shall be taken from your sides, and no remaining mark of military distinction left but wants, infirmities, and scars? Can you, then, consent to be the only sufferers by the Revolution, and, retiring from the field, grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt? Can you consent to wade through the vile mire of dependency, and owe the miserable remnant of that life to charity, which has hitherto been spent in honor? If you can, go, and carry the jest of tories and the scorn of whigs; the ridicule, and, what is worse, the pity of the world! Go, starve, and be forgotten.”

The writer now changed from appeal to advice. “I would advise you, therefore,” he said, “to come to some final opinion upon what you can bear and what you will suffer. If your determination be in proportion to your wrongs, carry your appeal from the justice to the fears of government. Change the milk-and-water style of your last memorial; assume a bolder tone, decent, but lively, spirited, and determined; and suspect the man who would advise to more moderation and longer forbearance. Let two or three men who can feel as well as write, be appointed to draw up your last remonstrance—for I would no longer give it the suing, soft, unsuccessful epithet of memorial.” He advised them to talk boldly to Congress, and to warn that body that the slightest mark of indignity from them now would operate like the grave, to part them and the army for ever; “that in any political event, the army has its alternative. If peace, that nothing shall separate you from your arms but death; if war, that, courting the auspices, and inviting the direction of your illustrious leader, you will retire to some unsettled country, smile in your turn, and 'mock when their fear cometh on.' Let it represent also, that should they comply with the request of your late memorial, it would make you more happy and them more reputable.”

Copies of these papers were placed in the hands of the commander-in-chief on the day when they were circulated, and with consummate sagacity and profound political wisdom, he resolved to guide and control the proceedings in a friendly manner at the meeting of officers, rather than to check them by authority. In general orders the next morning, he referred to the anonymous papers, as disorderly, and utterly disapproved of by the commander-in-chief. At the same time he requested that the general and field officers, with one officer of each company, and a proper representation of the staff of the army, should assemble at a place designated, at twelve o'clock on Saturday, the fifteenth, for the purpose of hearing the report of the committee of the army to Congress. With masterly skill he requested the senior officer (General Gates, whom he suspected, and doubtless with justice, of being the chief actor in the drama) to preside at the meeting.

When this order appeared, Armstrong prepared and issued another address, more subdued in tone, but so adroitly worded, as to convey the idea that Washington approved of the scheme, the time of the meeting only being changed. This interpretation Washington frustrated, by private conversation with the principal officers, in whose good sense and integrity he had confidence. The minds of these he impressed with a sense of the danger that must attend any rash act at such a crisis; and he inculcated moderation and forbearance. He thus prepared the best men in camp to deliberate at the coming conference, without passion or prejudice.

The meeting was held pursuant to the order of Washington. There was a full attendance of officers, and Gates presided. There was a raised platform at one end of the room in which the meeting was held, on which Gates and others sat. Upon this Washington took a seat, and when the meeting was called to order, he advanced upon the platform, while the most solemn silence prevailed in the assembly, and read an address which he had prepared for the occasion. It was compact in thought, dignified and patriotic in expression, and mild in language, yet severe in implication.[3]

When he had concluded the reading, Washington retired without uttering a word, leaving the officers to deliberate without restraint. The address had a most powerful and salutary effect. The conference was brief. They did not deliberate long, but proceeded to pass resolutions offered by Knox, and seconded by Putnam, by unanimous vote, thanking the commander-in-chief for the course he had pursued; expressing their unabated attachment to his person and their country; declaring their unshaken confidence in the good faith of Congress, and their determination to bear with patience their grievances, until, in due time, they should be redressed. Gates, as president of the meeting, signed the address, and on the eighteenth, Washington, in general orders, expressed his satisfaction.

Thus was frustrated, by the sagacity, prudence, and wisdom of Washington, the most dangerous scheme by which the liberties of America were put in jeopardy, next to the treason of Arnold. It had no wicked features in common with that treason, but its practical effects, if carried out, might have been almost equally disastrous.

To the president of Congress Washington wrote, when he transmitted to that body an account of the affair just narrated:—

“The result of the proceedings of the grand convention of officers, which I have the honor of sending to your excellency, for the inspection of Congress, will, I flatter myself, be considered as the last glorious proof of patriotism which could have been given by men who aspired to the distinction of a patriot army; and will not only confirm their claim to the justice, but will increase their title to the gratitude of their country.”

The excitement caused by these events had scarcely died away, when intelligence of the signing of the preliminary treaty of peace reached the commander-in-chief. That intelligence came to him in despatches from Robert L. Livingston, the secretary for foreign affairs, and also in a letter from Alexander Hamilton, and other New York delegates in Congress. It had been sent to them in the French ship, Triomphe, despatched for the purpose by Count de Estiang, at the request of Lafayette. Washington immediately wrote to Governor Clinton, saying:—

“I take the first moment of forwarding to your excellency the despatches from the secretary of foreign affairs, which accompany this. They contain, I presume, all the intelligence respecting peace, on which great and glorious event, permit me to congratulate you with the greatest sincerity.” Upon the envelope, bearing the superscription of this letter, Washington wrote, in a bold hand, and with a broad dash under it—Peace.

On the nineteenth of April, the seventh anniversary of the earlier bloodshedding in the War for Independence, at Lexington and Concord, the intelligence of peace was officially proclaimed to the army in general orders. “The generous task,” Washington said, “for which we first flew to arms, being accomplished; the liberties of our country being fully acknowledged, and firmly secured, and the characters of those who have persevered through every extremity of hardship, suffering, and danger, being immortalized by the illustrious appellation of the patriot army, nothing now remains, but for the actors of this mighty scene, to pursue a perfect, unvarying consistency of character through the very last act; to close the drama with applause, and to retire from the military theatre with the same approbation of angels and men, which has crowned all their former virtuous actions.”

Ever mindful of the interests of his soldiers, Washington had procured the passage of a resolution in Congress, that the services of the men engaged in the war, did not expire until the definitive treaty of peace should be ratified, but that the commander-in-chief might grant furloughs according to his own judgment, and permit the men to take their arms home with them. Washington used this prerogative freely, but judiciously, and, by degrees, the continental army was virtually disbanded, except a small force at headquarters; for those dismissed on furlough were never called back to service. “Once at home,” says Irving, “they sank into domestic-life; their weapons were hung over their fireplaces—military trophies of the Revolution, to be prized by future generations.”

On the sixth of May Washington held a personal conference with Sir Guy Carleton, at Tappan, in relation to the transfer of certain posts in the United States occupied by British troops, and other arrangements; and two days afterward, Egbert Benson, William S. Smith, and Daniel Parker, were appointed commissioners on the part of the Americans, to inspect and superintend the embarkation of the tories, who were about to leave for Nova Scotia, with their property. Several thousands of these unfortunate people left New York for that far-east country, where, one of them observed, were “nine months of winter, and three months of cold weather every year.”

In view of the approaching dissolution of the army, and their final separation, the officers in camp, most of whom had worked shoulder to shoulder in the eight years struggle, yearned for some bond of association, whereby they should continue to be like brothers, not only in the memory of the past, but in personal intercourse, and friendly association. The idea of a society to be formed of all the officers of the Revolution, American and foreign, was conceived by the large-hearted Knox, and on the thirteenth of May, at the quarters of the Baron Steuben, a committee that had been appointed for the purpose, submitted a plan to a meeting of officers. It was adopted, and an association called the Society of the Cincinnati, was formed. That name was adopted, because, like the noble Roman, Lucius Quintius Cincinnatus, they were about to return to private life and their several employments, after serving the public.

The chief objects of the society were to promote cordial friendship and indissoluble union among themselves; to commemorate by frequent re-unions the great struggle they had just passed through; to use their best endeavors for the promotion of human liberty; to cherish good feeling between the respective states; and to extend benevolent aid to those of the society whose circumstances might require it. They formed a general society, and elected Washington the president, and Knox the secretary. The former held his office until his death, and was succeeded by General Alexander Hamilton. For greater convenience, state societies were organized, which were auxiliary to the parent society. To perpetuate the association, it was provided in the constitution, that the eldest male descendant of an original member should be entitled to membership on the decease of such member, “in failure thereof, the collateral branches, who may be judged worthy of becoming its supporters and members.” During the remainder of his life, Washington manifested a great interest in this society, and the re-unions were seasons of real enjoyment for the members.[4]

On the eighth of June Washington addressed a circular letter to the governors of all the states, on the subject of the disbanding of the army. It was a most able paper, evidently prepared with care after much thought, and presenting, for the consideration of his countrymen, topics and opinions of the greatest importance. With admirable skill he drew a picture of the enviable condition and position of the United States, and their citizens, and then remarked:—

"Such is our situation, and such our prospects; but notwithstanding the cup of blessing is thus reached out to us—notwithstanding happiness is ours, if we have a disposition to seize the occasion and make it our own; yet it appears to me there is an option still left to the United States of America, whether they will be respectable and prosperous, or contemptible and miserable as a nation. This is the time of their political probation; this is the moment when the eyes of the whole world are turned upon them; this is the time to establish or ruin their national character for ever; this is the favorable moment to give such a tone to the federal government as will enable it to answer the ends of its institution; or this may be the ill-fated moment for relaxing the powers of the Union, annihilating the cement of the confederation, and exposing us to become the sport of European politics, which may play one state against another, to prevent their growing importance, and to serve their own interested purposes. For, according to the system of policy the states shall adopt at this moment, they will stand or fall; and by their confirmation or lapse, it is yet to be decided whether the Revolution must ultimately be considered as a blessing or a curse; a blessing or a curse not to the present age alone, for with our fate will the destiny of unborn millions be involved.

“With this conviction of the importance of the present crisis, silence in me would be a crime. I will therefore speak to your excellency the language of freedom and sincerity, without disguise. I am aware, however, those who differ from me in political sentiments may perhaps remark, I am stepping out of the proper line of my duty; and they may possibly ascribe to arrogance or ostentation, what I know is alone the result of the purest intention; but the rectitude of my own heart, which disdains such unworthy motives—the part I have hitherto acted in life—the determination I have formed of not taking any share in public business hereafter—the ardent desire I feel and shall continue to manifest, of quietly enjoying in private life, after all the toils of war, the benefits of a wise and liberal government, will, I flatter myself, sooner or later convince my countrymen, that I could have no sinister views in delivering, with so little reserve, the opinions contained in this address.

“There are four things which I humbly conceive are essential to the well-being, I may even venture to say, to the existence of the United States, as an independent power.

“1st. An indissoluble union of the states under one federal head.

“2dly. A sacred regard to public justice.

“3dly. The adoption of a proper peace establishment. And,

“4thly. The prevalence of that pacific and friendly disposition among the people of the United States, which will induce them to forget their local prejudices and politics, to make those mutual concessions which are requisite to the general prosperity, and in some instances to sacrifice their individual advantages to the interest of the community.

“These are the pillars on which the glorious fabric of our independence and national character must be supported. Liberty is the basis, and whoever would dare to sap the foundation, or overturn the structure, under whatever specious pretext he may attempt it, will merit the bitterest execration and the severest punishment which can be inflicted by his injured country.”

With close and admirable logic he expatiated upon these four heads; and with the earnestness of most profound conviction, he urged the importance of union, and the vesting of the federal Congress with greater power. He then made a warm and generous plea for the army, while treating upon the subject of public justice. Concerning proposed half-pay and commutation, he observed:—

“As to the idea, which I am informed has, in some instances, prevailed, that the half-pay and commutation are to be regarded merely in the odious light of a pension, it ought to be exploded for ever; that provision should be viewed, as it really was, a reasonable compensation offered by Congress, at a time when they had nothing else to give to officers of the army, for services then to be performed: it was the only means to prevent a total dereliction of the service; it was a part of their hire. I may be allowed to say, it was the price of their blood, and of your independency; it is, therefore, more than a common debt, it is a debt of honor; it can never be considered as a pension or gratuity, nor cancelled until it is fairly discharged.”

After giving a sufficient apology for treating upon political topics, he concluded by saying:—

“I have thus freely declared what I wished to make known, before I surrendered up my public trust to those who committed it to me. The task is now accomplished. I now bid adieu to your excellency, as the chief magistrate of your state, at the same time I bid a last farewell to the cares of office and all the employments of public life.”

But, six long months of official labor, with all the anxieties and cares incident thereto, were before the commander-in-chief. Even at the very moment when he was sending forth his address, and making a noble plea to his country for justice to the army, a part of that army was bringing dishonor upon the whole, by mutinous proceedings. About eighty newly-recruited soldiers of the Pennsylvania line, stationed at Lancaster, marched in a body to Philadelphia, where they were joined by about two hundred from the barracks in that city. The whole body then proceeded, with drum and fife, and fixed bayonets, to the statehouse, where the Pennsylvania legislature and the continental Congress were in session, with the avowed purpose of demanding a redress of specified grievances from the state authorities. They placed a guard at every door, and sent a message in to the president and council, threatening them with violence if their demands were not complied with in the course of twenty minutes. The Congress, feeling themselves outraged, and doubting the strength of the local government to protect them against any armed mob that might choose to assail them, sent a courier to Washington with information of these proceedings, and then adjourned to meet at Princeton, in New Jersey. This event occurred on the twenty-first of June, and the Congress reassembled at Princeton on the thirtieth.

Washington received information of the mutiny on the twenty-fourth, and immediately detached General Howe, with fifteen hundred men to quell the insurrection and punish the leaders. At the same time he wrote a letter to the president of Congress, in which he expressed his sorrow and indignation that a mob of men, “contemptible in number, and equally so in point of service, and not worthy to be called soldiers,” should have so insulted the “sovereign authority of the United States.” He then vindicated the rest of the army upon whom the act might cast dishonor. But the mutiny was quelled before Howe reached Philadelphia, and bloodshed was prevented.

While waiting, “with little business and less command,” for the definitive treaty, Washington made a tour northward from Newburg, of about seven hundred and fifty miles. Governor Clinton accompanied him. They set out on the seventeenth of July, ascended the Hudson to Albany, visited the places made memorable by Burgoyne's defeat, passed down Lake George in light boats, and over to Ticonderoga, from the foot of that beautiful sheet of water. They returned by nearly the same route to Schenectady, and then went up the Mohawk as far as Fort Schuyler (now Rome); thence to Wood creek, a tributary of Oneida lake, by which there was a water-communication with Lake Ontario, at Oswego, and then traversed the country between the Mohawk and Otsego lake. They were absent nineteen days, and performed a greater part of the journey on horseback, much of it through an unbroken wilderness.

To the Chevalier de Chastellux, Washington wrote in October, respecting this tour:—

“Prompted by these actual observations I could not help taking a more extensive view of the vast inland navigation of the United States, from maps and the information of others; and could not but be struck with the immense extent and importance of it, and with the goodness of that Providence, which has dealt its favors to us with so profuse a hand. Would to God we may have wisdom enough to improve them. I shall not rest contented till I have explored the western country, and traversed those lines, or great part of them, which have given bounds to a new empire.”

Over all that region where then the primeval forest stood, the hand of industry has spread the varied beauties and blessing of cultivation; and where the solitary Indian then prowled with his rifle or arrow, in search of game for his appetite, a busy population, inhabiting cities and villages, and thousands of pleasant cottages or stately mansions, now dwell.

On his return to headquarters, Washington found a resolution of the Congress, calling him to Princeton, where that body was in session. The chief object was to have him near them for consultation and aid in the several arrangements for peace. The Congress engaged a house, suitably furnished, for his use, at Rocky Hill, a few miles distant, and he set out for Princeton on the eighteenth of August, leaving General Knox in command at Newburg. On the twenty-sixth he had a formal public audience with Congress, when that body presented a most affectionate address to him, in which they said:—

“It has been the particular happiness of the United States, that during a war so long, so dangerous, and so important, Providence has been graciously pleased to preserve the life of a general, who has merited and possessed the uninterrupted confidence and affection of his fellow-citizens. In other nations, many have performed eminent services, for which they have deserved the thanks of the public. But to you, sir, peculiar praise is due. Your services have been essential in acquiring and establishing the freedom and independence of your country. They deserve the grateful acknowledgments of a free and independent nation.”

This honorable reception was grateful to the feelings of Washington, for, next to the approval of his God and his conscience, he coveted that of his country. Congress had already voted him a rarer honor, an honor such as the senate of old Rome was fond of conferring upon the heroes of the commonwealth. On the seventh of August they had—

“Resolved (unanimously, ten states being present), That an equestrian statue of General Washington be erected at the place where the residence of Congress shall be established,” and a committee appointed for the purpose reported a plan for a pedestal to support the statue, with historical basso relievos upon it, and an appropriate inscription. But this statue, like many other monumental testimonials, ordered by the old Congress, was never made. Washington submitted to the unpleasant operation of having a plaster-cast taken from his face, to be sent to the sculptor in Europe who should be employed to execute the statue; but the cast was broken, and as he would not submit to the manipulations again, the effort was abandoned.

On the third of September the definitive treaty for peace was signed at Paris, and by a proclamation dated the eighteenth day of October, 1783, all officers and soldiers of the continental army, absent on furlough, were discharged from further service; and all others who had engaged to serve during the war, were to be discharged from and after the third of November.

On the second of November, Washington, yet at Rocky Hill, issued his last general orders, in which he addressed his soldiers as a father speaking to his children, and bade them an affectionate farewell.[5]

He then waited quietly for the British to evacuate New York city, that he might go thither with a few troops that would remain in camp under Knox, take formal possession, and then hasten to the seat of Congress and resign his commission of commander-in-chief of the American armies into their hands.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] The following is a copy of the notification: “A meeting of the field-officers is requested at the public building on Tuesday next at eleven o'clock. A commissioned officer from each company is expected, and a delegate from the medical staff. The object of this convention is to consider the late letter of our representatives in Philadelphia, and what measures (if any) should be adopted to obtain that redress of grievances which they seem to have solicited in vain.”

[3] The following is a copy of the address:—"GENTLEMEN: By an anonymous summons, an attempt has been made to convene you together; how inconsistent with the rules of propriety, how unmilitary, and how subversive of all order and discipline, let the good sense of the army decide. In the moment of this summons, another anonymous production was sent into circulation, addressed more to the feelings and passions than to the reason and judgment of the army. The author of the piece is entitled to much credit for the goodness of his pen, and I could wish he had as much credit for the rectitude of his heart; for, as men see through different optics, and are induced by the reflecting faculties of the mind to use different means to attain the same end, the author of the address should have had more charity than to mark for suspicion the man who should recommend moderation and longer forbearance; or, in other words, who should not think as he thinks, and act as he advises.”

When Washington had concluded this paragraph, he paused, took out his spectacles, begged the indulgence of the audience while he put them on, and observed, “You see I have grown gray in your service, and am now growing blind.” The effect was electrical, and many an eye was moistened by tears called forth by the incident. He then proceeded:—

“But he had another plan in view, in which candor and liberality of sentiment, regard to justice, and love of country have no part; and he was right to insinuate the darkest suspicion to effect the blackest design. That the address is drawn with great art, and is designed to answer the most insidious purposes; that it is calculated to impress the mind with an idea of premeditated injustice in the sovereign power of the United States, and rouse all those resentments which must unavoidably flow from such a belief; that the secret mover of this scheme, whoever he may be, intended to take advantage of the passions while they were warmed by the recollection of past distresses, without giving time for cool, deliberate thinking, and that composure of mind which is so necessary to give dignity and stability to measures, is rendered too obvious, by the mode of conducting the business, to need other proofs than a reference to the proceedings.

“Thus much, gentlemen, I have thought it incumbent on me to observe to you, to show upon what principles I opposed the irregular and hasty meeting which was proposed to be held on Tuesday last, and not because I wanted a disposition to give you every opportunity, consistent with your own honor and the dignity of the army, to make known your grievances. If my conduct heretofore has not evinced to you that I have been a faithful friend to the army, my declaration of it at this time would be equally unavailing and improper. But, as I was among the first who embarked in the cause of our common country; as I have never left your side one moment, but when called from you on public duty; as I have been the constant companion and witness of your distresses, and not among the last to feel and acknowledge your merits; as I have ever considered my own military reputation as inseparably connected with that of the army; as my heart has ever expanded with joy when I have heard its praises, and my indignation has arisen when the mouth of detraction has been opened against it, it can scarcely be supposed, at this last stage of the war, that I am indifferent to its interests. But how are they to be promoted? The way is plain, says the anonymous addresser. 'If war continues, remove into the unsettled country; there establish yourselves, and leave an ungrateful country to defend itself.' But who are they to defend? Our wives, our children, our farms, and other property which we leave behind us? or, in this state of hostile separation, are we to take the two first (the latter can not be removed) to perish in a wilderness, with hunger, cold, and nakedness?

“'If peace takes place, never sheathe your swords,' says he, 'until you have obtained full and ample justice.' This dreadful alternative of either deserting our country in the extremest hour of her distress, or turning our arms against it—which is the apparent object—unless Congress can be compelled into instant compliance, has something so shocking in it, that humanity revolts at the idea. My God! what can this writer have in view by recommending such measures? Can he be a friend to the army? Can he be a friend to this country? Rather, is he not an insidious foe? some emissary, perhaps, from New York, plotting the ruin of both, by sowing the seeds of discord and separation between the civil and military powers of the continent? And what a compliment does he pay to our understandings, when he recommends measures, in either alternative, impracticable in their nature?

“But, here, gentlemen, I will drop the curtain, because it would be as imprudent in me to assign my reasons for this opinion, as it would be insulting to your conception to suppose you stood in need of them. A moment's reflection will convince every dispassionate mind of the physical impossibility of carrying either proposal into execution. There might, gentlemen, be an impropriety in my taking notice, in this address to you, of an anonymous production; but the manner in which that performance has been introduced to the army, the effect it was intended to have, together with some other circumstances, will amply justify my observations on the tendency of that writing.

“With respect to the advice given by the author, to suspect the man who shall recommend moderate measures and longer forbearance, I spurn it, as every man, who regards that liberty and reveres that justice for which we contend, undoubtedly must; for, if men are to be precluded from offering their sentiments on a matter which may involve the most serious and alarming consequences that can invite the consideration of mankind, reason is of no use to us. The freedom of speech may be taken away, and dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep, to the slaughter. I can not, in justice to my own belief, and what I have great reason to conceive is the intention of Congress, conclude this address, without giving it as my decided opinion that that honorable body entertains exalted sentiments of the services of the army, and, from a full conviction of its merits and sufferings, will do it complete justice; that their endeavors to discover and establish funds for this purpose have been unwearied, and will not cease till they have succeeded, I have not a doubt. But, like all other large bodies, where there is a variety of different interests to reconcile, their determinations are slow. Why, then, should we distrust them, and, in consequence of that distrust, adopt measures which may cast a shade over that glory which has been so justly acquired, and tarnish the reputation of an army which is celebrated through all Europe for its fortitude and patriotism? And for what is this done? To bring the object we seek nearer? No; most certainly, in my opinion, it will cast it at a greater distance. For myself (and I take no merit in giving the assurance, being induced to it from principles of gratitude, veracity, and justice, a grateful sense of the confidence you have ever placed in me), a recollection of the cheerful assistance and prompt obedience I have experienced from you under every vicissitude of fortune, and the sincere affection I feel for an army I have so long had the honor to command, will oblige me to declare, in this public and solemn manner, that in the attainment of complete justice for all your toils and dangers, and in the gratification of every wish, so far as may be done consistently with the great duty I owe my country; and those powers we are bound to respect, you may freely command my services to the utmost extent of my abilities.

“While I give you these assurances, and pledge myself in the most unequivocal manner to exert whatever ability I am possessed of in your favor, let me entreat you, gentlemen, on your part, not to take any measures, which, viewed in the calm light of reason, will lessen the dignity and sully the glory you have hitherto maintained. Let me request you to rely on the plighted faith of your country, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Congress, that, previous to your dissolution as an army, they will cause all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in the resolutions which were published to you two days ago, and that they will adopt the most effectual measures in their power to render ample justice to you for your faithful and meritorious services. And let me conjure you, in the name of our common country, as you value your own sacred honor, as you respect the rights of humanity, and as you regard the military and national character of America, to express your utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, under any specious pretenses, to overturn the liberties of our country, and who wickedly attempts to open the flood-gates of civil discord, and deluge our rising empire in blood.

“By thus determining and thus acting, you will pursue the plain and direct road to the attainment of your wishes; you will defeat the insidious designs of your enemies, who are compelled to resort from open force to secret artifice; you will give one more distinguished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue rising superior to the pressure of the most complicated sufferings; and you will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for posterity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have exhibited to mankind, 'Had this day been wanting, the world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is capable of attaining.'”—Journals of Congress, viii 180-183.

[4] A full account of this society, with drawings of the orders worn by the members, and the certificate of membership, may be found in the first volume of Lossing's Field-Book of the Revolution.

[5] The following is a copy of Washington's last general order:—

“Rocky Hill, near Princeton, November 2, 1783.

“The United States in Congress assembled, after giving the most honorable testimony to the merits of the federal armies, and presenting them with the thanks of their country, for their long, eminent, and faithful service, having thought proper, by their proclamation bearing date the sixteenth of October last, to discharge such part of the troops as were engaged for the war, and to permit the officers on furlough to retire from service, from and after to-morrow, which proclamation having been communicated in the public papers for the information and government of all concerned; it only remains for the commander-in-chief to address himself once more, and that for the last time, to the armies of the United States (however widely dispersed individuals who compose them may be), and to bid them an affectionate, a long farewell.

“But before the commander-in-chief takes his final leave of those he holds most dear, he wishes to indulge himself a few moments in calling to mind a slight review of the past: he will then take the liberty of exploring, with his military friends, their future prospects; of advising the general line of conduct which in his opinion ought to be pursued; and he will conclude the address by expressing the obligations he feels himself under for the spirited and able assistance he has experienced from them in the performance of an arduous office.

“A contemplation of the complete attainment (at a period earlier than could have been expected) of the object for which we contended against so formidable a power, can not but inspire us with astonishment and gratitude. The disadvantageous circumstances on our part, under which the war was undertaken, can never be forgotten. The singular interpositions of Providence in our feeble condition, were such as could scarcely escape the attention of the most unobserving; while the unparalleled perseverance of the armies of the United States, through almost every possible suffering and discouragement, for the space of eight long years, was little short of a standing miracle.

“It is not the meaning, nor within the compass of this address, to detail the hardships peculiarly incident to our service, or to describe the distresses which in several instances have resulted from the extremes of hunger and nakedness, combined with the rigors of an inclement season: nor is it necessary to dwell on the dark side of our past affairs. Every American officer and soldier must now console himself for any unpleasant circumstances which may have occurred, by a recollection of the uncommon scenes in which he has been called to act no inglorious part, and the astonishing events of which he has been a witness—events which have seldom, if ever before, taken place on the stage of human action, nor can they probably ever happen again. For who has before seen a disciplined army formed at once from such raw materials? Who that was not a witness could imagine that the most violent local prejudices would cease so soon; and that men who came from different parts of the continent, strongly disposed by the habits of education to despise and quarrel with each other, would instantly become but one patriotic band of brothers? Or who that was not on the spot, can trace the steps by which such a wonderful Revolution has been effected, and such a glorious period put to all our warlike toils?

“It is universally acknowledged that the enlarged prospects of happiness, opened by the confirmation of our independence and sovereignty, almost exceed the power of description; and shall not the brave men who have contributed so essentially to these inestimable acquisitions, retiring victorious from the field of war to the field of agriculture, participate in all the blessings which have been obtained? In such a republic, who will exclude them from the rights of citizens, and the fruits of their labors? In such a country, so happily circumstanced, the pursuits of commerce and the cultivation of the soil will unfold to industry the certain road to competence. To those hardy soldiers who are actuated by the spirit of adventure, the fisheries will afford ample and profitable employment; and the extensive and fertile regions of the West will yield a most happy asylum for those who, fond of domestic enjoyment, are seeking personal independence. Nor is it possible to conceive that any one of the United States will prefer a national bankruptcy, and dissolution of the Union, to a compliance with the requisitions of Congress, and the payment of its just debts; so that the officers and soldiers may expect considerable assistance, in recommencing their civil operations, from the sums due to them from the public, which must and will most inevitably be paid.

“In order to effect this desirable purpose, and to remove the prejudices which may have taken possession of the minds of any of the good people of the states, it is earnestly recommended to all the troops that, with strong attachments to the Union, they should carry with them into civil society the most conciliating dispositions; and that they should prove themselves not less virtuous and useful as citizens than they have been persevering and victorious as soldiers. What though there should be some envious individuals who are unwilling to pay the debt the public has contracted, or to yield the tribute due to merit; yet let such unworthy treatment produce no invective, or any instance of intemperate conduct; let it be remembered that the unbiassed voice of the free citizens of the United States has promised the just reward, and given the merited applause; let it be known and remembered that the reputation of the federal armies is established beyond the reach of malevolence; and let a consciousness of their achievements and fame still excite the men who composed them to honorable actions, under the persuasion that the private virtues of economy, prudence, and industry, will not be less amiable in civil life than the more splendid qualities of valor, perseverance, and enterprise, were in the field. Every one may rest assured that much, very much of the future happiness of the officers and men, will depend upon the wise and manly conduct which shall be adopted by them when they are mingled with the great body of the community. And, although the general has so frequently given it as his opinion, in the most public and explicit manner, that unless the principles of the federal government were properly supported, and the powers of the Union increased, the honor, dignity, and justice of the nation would be lost for ever; yet he can not help repeating on this occasion so interesting a sentiment, and leaving it as his last injunction to every officer and every soldier who may view the subject in the same serious point of light, to add his best endeavors to those of his worthy fellow-citizens, toward effecting these great and valuable purposes, on which our very existence as a nation so materially depends.

“The commander-in-chief conceives little is now wanting to enable the soldier to change the military character into that of a citizen, but that steady and decent tenor of behavior which has generally distinguished not only the army under his immediate command, but the different detachments and separate armies, through the course of the war. From their good sense and prudence he anticipates the happiest consequences: and while he congratulates them on the glorious occasion which renders their services in the field no longer necessary, he wishes to express the strong obligations he feels himself under for the assistance he has received from every class, and in every instance. He presents his thanks, in the most serious and affectionate manner, to the general officers, as well for their counsel on many interesting occasions as for their ardor in promoting the success of the plans he had adopted; to the commandants of regiments and corps, and to the officers, for their zeal and attention in carrying his orders promptly into execution; to the staff, for their alacrity and exactness in performing the duties of their several departments, and to the non-commissioned officers and private soldiers for their extraordinary patience in suffering as well as their invincible fortitude in action. To various branches of the army the general takes this last and solemn opportunity of professing his inviolable attachment and friendship. He wishes more than bare profession were in his power; that he was really able to be useful to them all in future life. He flatters himself, however, they will do him the justice to believe that, whatever could with propriety be attempted by him, has been done. And being now to conclude these his last public orders, to take his ultimate leave, in a short time, of the military character, and to bid a final adieu to the armies he has so long had the honor to command, he can only again offer, in their behalf, his recommendations to their grateful country, and his prayers to the God of armies. May ample justice be done them here, and may the choicest of Heaven's favors, both here and hereafter, attend those who, under the Divine auspices, have secured innumerable blessings for others! With these wishes, and this benediction, the commander-in-chief is about to retire from service. The curtain of separation will soon be drawn, and the military scene to him will be closed for ever.”

CHAPTER III.

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british troops leave the city of new york—american troops and civil authorities enter and take possession—the british and american troops contrasted—parting scene between washington and his officers—washington settles his accounts with the united states—journey to annapolis—complimentary dinner and ball there—washington resigns his commission—his retirement to private life at mount vernon—letters to his friends on the subject—washington's dreams of quiet life.

It was late in November, 1783, before the British troops were prepared to leave New York, so large was the number of persons, and so great was the quantity of goods to be first conveyed away. At length Sir Guy Carleton gave Washington notice when he would be ready to surrender the city. Governor Clinton summoned the members of the state council to convene at Eastchester on the twenty-first of November, to prepare for the re-establishment of civil government in New York city and its vicinity, and a detachment of troops came down from West Point to be ready to take possession of the posts about to be evacuated by the British.

Carleton appointed the twenty-fifth of November as the day for the evacuation, and before that time the British troops were drawn in from the surrounding posts. On the morning of the twenty-fifth Washington and Governor Clinton were at Harlem, with the detachment from West Point, under General Knox; and during the morning they all moved toward the city, and halted at the Bowery. The troops were composed of light-dragoons, light-infantry, and artillery, and were accompanied by the civil officers of the state.

Between twelve and one o'clock the British troops were embarked. The fleet immediately weighed anchor, and with a favoring breeze sailed out the Narrows. The American troops and the civil authorities then marched in and took formal possession. Washington and Clinton, with their respective suites, led the procession, escorted by a troop of Westchester cavalry. Then followed the lieutenant-governor and members of the council, General Knox and the officers of the army, the speaker of the assembly, and a large procession of citizens on horseback and on foot.

Entrance of the American Army into New York,
November 25, 1873.

The evacuation of the British, and the entrance of the Americans, produced in the inhabitants mingled feelings of joy and sadness. The whigs greatly rejoiced at their deliverance, while the families of loyalists were saddened by the change. There was a marked contrast between the troops that left and the troops that came. “We had been accustomed for a long time to military display in all the finish and finery of garrison life,” said an American lady to Mr. Irving; “the troops just leaving us were as if equipped for show, and with their scarlet uniforms and burnished arms, made a brilliant display; the troops that marched in, on the contrary, were ill-clad and weather-beaten, and made a forlorn appearance; but they were our troops, and as I looked at them and thought upon all they had done and suffered for us, my heart and my eyes were full, and I admired and gloried in them the more, because they were weather-beaten and forlorn.”[6]

But joy was the predominant feeling, and on that night the city was a scene of public festivity, and demonstrations of unbounded pleasure. The governor gave a feast, and splendid fireworks illuminated the town.

On the fourth of December Washington was prepared for a journey to Annapolis, where the Congress was in session, to resign his commission into their hands. A handsome barge was made ready to convey him from the Whitehall ferry to Paulus's Hook (now Jersey City), and lay at the stairs, ready manned at twelve o'clock. Meanwhile Washington and his officers had assembled in the parlor of Fraunce's tavern, near by, to take a final leave of each other. Marshall has left on record, a brief but touching narrative of the scene. As the commander-in-chief entered the room, and found himself in the midst of his officers—his old companions-in-arms, many of whom had shared with him the fortunes of war from its earliest stages—his tender feelings were too powerful for concealment, and defied his usual self-command. Filling a glass of wine, and taking it in his hand, he turned upon his friends a sad but benignant countenance, and said:—

“With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you, most devoutly wishing that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy, as your former ones have been glorious and honorable.” After lifting the wine to his lips, and drinking a farewell benediction, he added, while his voice trembled with emotion:—

“I can not 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.” General Knox being nearest, first turned to him. Washington, incapable of utterance, grasped his hand in silence, and embraced him affectionately, while his eyes were suffused with tears. In the same affectionate manner, every officer took leave of him. Not a word was spoken. Feeling held speech in abeyance. The tear of manly sensibility was in every eye, and in dignified silence they all followed their beloved chief as he left the room, passed through a corps of light-infantry, and walked to Whitehall to embark. Having entered the barge, he turned to the tearful friends upon the wharf, and waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu. They stood and watched the barge until it was hidden from their view by an angle of the battery, when, in silent and solemn procession, they all returned to the place where they had assembled.

Washington stopped a few days in Philadelphia, where he adjusted his accounts with the comptroller of the treasury. These were all in perfect order, from the beginning of the war until the moment of settlement, on the thirteenth of December. They were entirely in his own hand-waiting. The gross amount was almost seventy-five thousand dollars, in which were included moneys expended for secret service and in various incidental charges. For his own services he would receive nothing.

Washington's journey from New York to Annapolis, in Maryland, was one continued ovation. The people everywhere received him with enthusiasm; and public meetings, legislative assemblies, and learned and religious institutions, greeted him with addresses. He arrived at Annapolis on Friday, the nineteenth of December, where he was joined by Mrs. Washington and many warm personal friends. On the following day he addressed a note to the Congress, inquiring when, and in what manner it would be proper to offer his resignation; and on Monday he was present at a dinner ordered by that body. In the evening he attended a grand ball given in his honor.

On Tuesday, the twenty-third, Washington wrote to the Baron Steuben—“This is the last letter I shall write while I continue in the service of my country. The hour of my resignation is fixed at twelve to-day; after which I shall become a private citizen on the banks of the Potomac.”

At the hour named the chief was before the assembled Congress, of whom General Thomas Mifflin was president. The hall was filled with public functionaries and military officers, accompanied by ladies; and in the gallery was Mrs. Washington and many more ladies than were on the floor below.

Washington was conducted to the hall by Secretary Thomson, when the president said, “The United States in Congress assembled, are prepared to receive your communication.” Washington then arose, and in a dignified manner, and clear, rich voice, said:—

“Mr. President: The great events on which my resignation depended, having at length taken place, I now have the honor of offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of presenting myself before them, to surrender into their hands the trust committed to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring from the service of my country. Happy in the confirmation of our independence and sovereignty, and pleased with the opportunity afforded the United States of becoming a respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction the appointment I accepted with diffidence; a diffidence in my abilities to accomplish so arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of the supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of Heaven. The successful termination of the war has verified the most sanguine expectations; and my gratitude for the interposition of Providence, and the assistance I have received from my countrymen, increases with every review of the momentous contest. While I repeat my obligations to the army in general, I should do injustice to my own feelings not to acknowledge in this place the peculiar services and distinguished merits of the gentlemen who have been attached to my person during the war. It was impossible the choice of confidential officers to compose my family should have been more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to recommend in particular those who have continued in the service to the present moment, as worthy of the favorable notice and patronage of Congress. I consider it as an indispensable duty to close this last act of my official life by commending the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the superintendence of them to his holy keeping. 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.”

President Mifflin replied: “Sir—The United States, in Congress assembled, receive with emotions too affecting for utterance, the solemn resignation of the authorities under which you have led their troops with success through a perilous and a doubtful war. Called upon by your country to defend its invaded rights, you accepted the sacred charge, before it had formed alliances, and while it was without funds or a government to support you. You have conducted the great military contest with wisdom and fortitude, invariably regarding the rights of the civil power, through all disasters and changes. You have, by the love and confidence of your fellow-citizens, enabled them to display their martial genius, and transmit their fame to posterity. You have persevered, until these United States, aided by a magnanimous king and nation, have been enabled, under a just Providence, to close the war in freedom, safety, and independence; in which happy event we sincerely join you in congratulations. Having defended the standard of liberty in this new world; having taught a lesson useful to those who inflict and to those who feel oppression, you retire from the great theatre of action with the blessings of your fellow-citizens. But the glory of your virtues will not terminate with your military command; it will continue to animate remotest ages. We feel with you our obligations to the army in general, and will particularly charge ourselves with the interests of those confidential officers who have attended your person to this affecting moment. We join you in commending the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, beseeching him to dispose the hearts and minds of its citizens to improve the opportunity afforded them of becoming a happy and respectable nation. And for you, we address to him our earnest prayers that a life so beloved may be fostered with all his care; that your days may be as happy as they have been illustrious; and that he will finally give you that reward which this world can not give.”

Washington, now a private citizen, hastened to his beloved home on the Potomac, accompanied on the way by many friends, among whom was Colonel Walker, one the aids of the Baron Steuben. By his hand, he sent a letter to Governor George Clinton—the first that he wrote after his retirement from office—in which he said: “The scene is at last closed. I am now a private citizen on the banks of the Potomac. I feel myself eased of a load of public care. I hope to spend the remainder of my days in cultivating the affections of good men, and in the practice of the domestic virtues.”

It was on Christmas eve when Washington reached Mount Vernon. It must have been a happy and a merry Christmas in that beautiful home, for the toils and dangers of war were over, peace was smiling upon all the land, and the people were free and independent. The enjoyment of his home, under these circumstances, was an exquisite one to the retired soldier; and in his letters to his friends he gives frequent and touching evidence of his happiness in private life. To Lafayette he wrote on the first of February:—

“At length, my dear marquis, I am become a private citizen on the banks of the Potomac, and under the shadow of my own vine and my own fig-tree, free from the bustle of a camp, and the busy scenes of public life. I am solacing myself with those tranquil enjoyments, of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit of fame, the statesman, whose watchful days and sleepless nights are spent in devising schemes to promote the welfare of his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe was insufficient for us all, and the courtier, who is always watching the countenance of his prince, in hopes of catching a gracious smile, can have very little conception. I have not only retired from all public employments, but I am retiring within myself, and shall be able to view the solitary walk, and tread the paths of private life, with a heartfelt satisfaction. Envious of none, I am determined to be pleased with all; and this my dear friend, being the order of my march, I will move gently down the stream of life, until I sleep with my fathers.”

A little later he wrote to Madam Lafayette, saying:—

“Freed from the clangor of arms and the bustle of a camp, from the cares of public employment and the responsibility of office, I am now enjoying domestic ease under the shadow of my own vine and my own fig-tree; and in a small villa, with the implements of husbandry and lambkins around me, I expect to glide gently down the stream of life, till I am entombed in the mansion of my fathers.

“Come, then, let me entreat you, and call my cottage your home; for your own doors do not open to you with more readiness than mine would. You will see the plain manner in which we live, and meet with rustic civility; and you shall taste the simplicity of rural life. It will diversify the scene, and may give you a higher relish for the gayeties of the court, when you return to Versailles. In these wishes and most respectful compliments, Mrs. Washington joins me.”

Notwithstanding Washington's retirement was so perfect as to amount to positive isolation for a month or more, on account of the effects of an intensely severe winter, which closed almost every avenue to Mount Vernon, and suspended even neighborly intercourse, he found it extremely difficult to divest himself of the habits of the camp. “Strange as it may seem,” he wrote to General Knox on the twentieth of February, “it is nevertheless true, that it was not till lately I could get the better of my usual custom of ruminating, as soon as I waked in the morning, on the business of the ensuing day; and of my surprise at finding, after revolving many things in my mind, that I was no longer a public man, nor had anything to do with public transactions.

“I feel now, however, as I conceive a wearied traveller must do, who, after treading many a painful step with a heavy burthen on his shoulders, is eased of the latter, having reached the haven to which all the former were directed; and from his house-top is looking back, and tracing with an eager eye the meanders by which he escaped the quicksands and mires which lay in his way; and into which none but the all-powerful Guide and Dispenser of human events could have prevented his falling.”

Surely, if ever a man had cause for serenity of mind while taking a retrospect of his public and private life, it was George Washington. From his youth he had walked in the path of truth and rectitude, and throughout his long public career of about thirty years, at the time of his retirement from the army, not a stain of dishonor—not even the suspicion of a stain—had ever been seen upon his character. His moral escutcheon was bright, his conscience was unqualifiedly approving, his country loved him above all her sons. With a sincere desire to spend the remainder of his days as a simple farmer upon the Potomac, without the ambition of being famous, or the expectation of being again called into public life, he resumed his old domestic habits, and prepared for the enjoyment of the evening of his days undisturbed by the turmoils of society around him.

“My manner of living is plain,” he wrote to a friend, “and I do not mean to be put out by it. A glass of wine and a bit of mutton are always ready, and such as will be content to partake of them, are always welcome. Those who expect more will be disappointed.”

But Washington's modest dream of quietude and simplicity of life in his home at Mount Vernon was not realized.

FOOTNOTES:

[6] Life of Washington, iv. 440.

CHAPTER IV.

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washington's private affairs—improvements commenced—remuneration for services declined—visitors flock to mount vernon—tour to the ohio—indian sachem and his prophecy—washington's interest in internal improvements—his letter to governor harrison—action of the virginia legislature—formation of companies—washington declines receiving a donation of stock for his own benefit—disposition of it—distinguished visitors at mount vernon—washington's correspondence burdensome—mr. lear—artists and literary men—pine and houdon at mount vernon—agricultural pursuits and improvements—washington's domestic life after the war.

Washington took a careful survey of all his affairs, on retiring from the public service, and perceived that much was to be done to retrieve losses, and to make his estate an agreeable home, and suitable to his position in life. The mansion, two stories in height, with only four rooms on a floor, was too small to accommodate the visitors who he well knew, might be expected at Mount Vernon, and he had already determined to commence its enlargement with the opening of the spring, as well as the adornment of the grounds around it, and the improvement of his farms. To do this required a large outlay of time and money; and, notwithstanding Washington had an ample fortune for a private gentleman of moderate tastes, he perceived the necessity of practising economy. His private affairs had become somewhat deranged, and his fortune diminished during the war; and he knew that the current expenses of his household must thereafter be materially increased.

At this juncture, when economy appeared so necessary, his consistency as a servant of the public without pecuniary reward, was tested. The temptation came in the specious form of a proposed testimonial of public gratitude for his services, and was so delicately presented to his mind, as almost to leave a doubt of its real purpose. It originated with the supreme executive council of Pennsylvania, who, a few days before Washington resigned his commission at Annapolis, remarked as follows in their instructions to the delegates in Congress from that state:—

“Though his excellency, General Washington, proposes in a short time to retire, yet his illustrious actions and virtues render his character so splendid and venerable, that, it is highly probable, the admiration and esteem of the world may make his life in a very considerable degree public, as numbers will be desirous of seeing the great and good man, who has so eminently contributed to the happiness of a nation. His very services to his country, may, therefore, subject him to expenses, unless he permits her gratitude to interpose.

“We are perfectly acquainted with the disinterestedness and generosity of his soul. He thinks himself amply rewarded for all his labors and cares, by the love and prosperity of his fellow-citizens. It is true, no rewards they can bestow can be equal to his merits. But they ought not to suffer those merits to be burdensome to him. We are convinced that the people of Pennsylvania would regret such a consequence.

“We are aware of the delicacy with which this subject must be treated. But relying upon the good sense of Congress, we wish it may engage their early attention.”

President Mifflin forwarded a copy of these instructions to Washington, because it was thought advisable not to lay them before Congress without his knowledge and approbation. True to the consistency of his character, Washington promptly declined the intended favor. “I can not but feel,” he said, in reply to Mifflin, “the greatest obligations to the supreme executive council of Pennsylvania. But as my sentiments on the subject of their instructions have been long and well known to the public, I need not repeat them to your excellency on the present occasion.” All proceedings on the subject were accordingly stopped.

1784

With the opening of the spring of 1784, numerous visitors began to make their way to Mount Vernon. Many of them were officers, and some of them poor soldiers of the war just closed, who went to pay the homage of their affections to the general under whom they had so long served with delight. Others were persons of distinction, from the various states and from abroad; and others went there out of mere curiosity, to see the great man of the nation in his retirement. Every one received the attentions of a generous hospitality from the master; and in these offices he was nobly seconded by Mrs. Washington, whose cheerful good sense and excellent management, made her home a delightful spot for all who entered it.

Of all the visitors who came to Mount Vernon during that first year of Washington's retirement, none was more cordially welcomed than Lafayette, who landed in New York early in August, and reached Mount Vernon on the seventeenth of the same month. He remained there twelve days, during which time the mansion was crowded with guests who came to meet the great friend of America; and when he departed for Baltimore, quite a large cavalcade of gentlemen accompanied him far on his way.

In September, Washington made quite an extensive tour westward, over the Alleghany mountains, to visit his lands on the Ohio and Great Kanawha rivers. He was accompanied by Doctor Craik, his old companion-in-arms in the French and Indian war, and who had accompanied him to the same region in 1770. They travelled in true soldier style—tent, pack-horses, and a few supplies, relying for their food chiefly upon their guns and fishing-tackle.

Owing to accounts of discontents and irritation among the Indian tribes, Washington did not think it prudent to descend the Ohio, and they proceeded no farther West than the Monongahela, which river they ascended, and then went southward through the wilderness, until they reached the Shenandoah valley, near Staunton. They returned to Mount Vernon on the fourth of October, having travelled on horseback, in the course of forty-four days, six hundred and eighty miles.

It was during their first tour, according to the late Mr. Custis, that Washington was visited by a venerable Indian sachem, who regarded him with the utmost reverence, as a God-protected hero. He would neither eat, drink, nor smoke with Washington; and finally, when a fire was kindled, he arose and addressed him through Nicholson, an interpreter, in the following terms:—

“I am a chief, and the ruler over many tribes; my influence extends to the waters of the great lakes, and to the far, blue mountains. I have travelled a long and weary path, that I might see the young warrior of the great battle. It was on the day, when the white man's blood, mixed with the streams of our forest, that I first beheld this chief; I called to my young men, and said, mark yon tall and daring warrior, he is not of the red-coat tribe—he hath an Indian's wisdom, and his warriors fight as we do—himself is alone exposed. Quick, let your aim be certain, and he dies. Our rifles were levelled, rifles which, but for him, knew not how to miss. It was all in vain, for a power mightier far than we, shielded him from harm. He can not die in battle. I am old, and soon shall be gathered to the great council-fire of my fathers, in the land of shades; but ere I go, there is a something, bids me speak, in the voice of prophecy. Listen! The Great Spirit protects that man, and guides his destinies—he will become the chief of nations, and a people yet unborn, will hail him as the founder of a mighty empire!”

This prophetic speech made a deep impression upon the companions of Washington; and always afterward, on the field of battle, Doctor Craik remembered it, and was fully persuaded that his friend would come out of the storm of conflict unharmed. And so he did. It is a singular fact, that Washington never received the slightest wound in battle.

Washington took an active interest in all that concerned the development of the internal resources of the country; and one of the objects of his tour westward in 1784, was the observation of the courses, and the character of the streams flowing into the Ohio; the distance of their navigable parts to those of the rivers east of the mountains, and the distance of the portage between them. He had conceived the idea that a communication, by canals, might be formed between the Potomac and James rivers, and the waters of the Ohio, and thence to the great chain of northern lakes. This idea had assumed the tangible shape of a well-matured scheme of internal improvement, and he had attempted to form a company for the purpose, when the kindling of the War for Independence put a stop to every enterprise of that kind.

Washington now desired to awaken new interest in the matter, and in a long and able letter to Benjamin Harrison, then governor of Virginia, written in October, 1784, he set forth the advantages to be expected by such a system of inland navigation. This letter was “one of the ablest, most sagacious, and most important productions of his pen,” says Mr. Sparks, “presenting first a clear statement of the question, and showing the practicability of facilitating the intercourse of trade between the East and the West, by improving and extending the water communications.”[7]

Washington then proceeded, by a train of admirable arguments and illustrations, to explain the commercial and political value of such a measure, in giving strength to the union of the states, and promoting the prosperity of the country, by multiplying the resources of trade.

“I need not remark to you, sir,” he said, “that the flanks and rear of the United States are possessed by other powers, and formidable ones too; nor how necessary it is to apply the cement of interest to bind all parts of the Union together by indissoluble bonds, especially that part of it which lies immediately west of us, with the middle states. For what ties, let me ask, should we have upon those people? How entirely unconnected with them shall we be, and what troubles may we not apprehend, if the Spaniards on their right, and Great Britain on their left, instead of throwing stumbling-blocks in their way, as they now do, should hold out lures for their trade and alliance? What, when they get strength, which will be sooner than most people conceive (from the emigration of foreigners, who will have no particular predilection toward us, as well as from the removal of our own citizens), will be the consequence of their having formed close connections with both or either of those powers, in a commercial way? It needs not, in my opinion, the gift of prophecy to foretell.

“The western states (I speak now from my own observation) stand, as it were, upon a pivot. The touch of a feather would turn them any way. They have looked down the Mississippi, until the Spaniards, very impolitically, I think for themselves, threw difficulties in their way; and they looked that way for no other reason, than because they could glide gently down the stream, without considering, perhaps, the difficulties of the voyage back again, and the time necessary to perform it in; and because they have no other means of coming to us but by long land transportations and unimproved roads. These causes have hitherto checked the industry of the present settlers; for, except the demand for provisions, occasioned by the increase of population, and a little flour, which the necessities of the Spaniards compel them to buy, they have no incitements to labor. But smooth the road, and make easy the way for them, and then see what an influx of articles will be poured upon us; how amazingly our exports will be increased by them, and how amply we shall be compensated for any trouble and expense we may encounter to effect it.

“A combination of circumstances makes the present conjuncture more favorable for Virginia, than for any other state in the Union, to fix these matters. The jealous and untoward disposition of the Spaniards on the one hand, and the private views of some individuals, coinciding with the general policy of the court of Great Britain on the other, to retain as long as possible the posts of Detroit, Niagara, and Oswego (which, though done under the letter of the treaty, is certainly an infraction of the spirit of it, and injurious to the Union), may be improved to the greatest advantage by this state, if she would open the avenues to the trade of that country, and embrace the present moment to establish it. It only wants a beginning. The western inhabitants would do their part toward its execution. Weak as they are, they would meet us at least halfway, rather than to be driven into the arms of foreigners, or to be made dependent upon them; which would eventually either bring on a separation of them from us, or a war between the United States and one or the other of those powers, most probably with the Spaniards.”

Washington's letter had a powerful effect upon the public mind. Governor Harrison laid it before the Virginia legislature, and that body received it with the greatest favor. Thus encouraged in his scheme, Washington hastened to Richmond to give his personal attention to the matter; and on the morning after his arrival (November sixteenth) he was waited upon by a committee of the assembly, with Patrick Henry at their head, who, in the name of the body whom they represented, testified their reverence for his character and affection for his person.

The Virginia assembly proceeded to appoint a commission to make the requisite surveys, and Washington returned to Mount Vernon, accompanied by Lafayette, whom he had met in Richmond. The marquis remained there a few days, and then departed for the seaboard, never to visit the United States again, until he became an old man, and the republic he had assisted in founding, had grown fifty years older.

Washington's scheme for internal improvements occupied much of his attention, and he corresponded largely upon the subject. His plan, at first, contemplated more especially the interests of Virginia and Maryland, but it expanded in his mind so as to embrace the whole Union. In a letter written on the fourteenth of December, to Richard Henry Lee, then recently elected president of Congress, he urged the necessity of action by that body, and suggested that the western waters should be explored, the navigation of them fully ascertained, accurately laid down, and a perfect map made of the country; that in the sale of public lands, the United States should make a reservation of all mines, minerals, and salt-springs, for special sale; and that a medium price should be adopted for the western lands, sufficient to prevent a monopoly, but not to discourage actual settlers. He wished to discountenance the land-jobbers and “roaming speculators,” who were disquieting the Indians, and to encourage the useful citizen. He perceived the necessity of doing something to regulate the matter, for, he said, “the spirit of emigration is great. The people have got impatient, and, though you can not stop the road, it is yet in your power to mark the way. It is easier to prevent than to remedy an evil.”

Late in December, Washington was invited to Annapolis by the Virginia assembly, to assist in arranging matters with the assembly of Maryland, respecting his scheme for uniting the Potomac and James rivers, with those of the West. He attended the conference, and chiefly through his exertions two companies were formed for the purpose, under the auspices of the respective governments, and he was appointed president of both. They were called respectively, the Potomac Company, and the James River Company. Thus it will be seen, that during the first year after the close of the Revolution, Washington set in motion that vast scheme of internal improvements, which has had a powerful and salutary influence upon the destinies of our country.

Again Washington's consistency was put to the test. Grateful for his past services, and conscious of the advantages to the Virginia commonwealth, of the great scheme of improvement which he had now set in motion, they, by unanimous vote, offered to present to him fifty shares in the Potomac Company, valued at ten thousand dollars, and one hundred shares in the James River Company, valued at twenty-five thousand dollars. Aware of his resolution not to receive any pecuniary gift from the public, the legislature, in the preamble to the resolution, said:—

“It is the desire of the representatives of this commonwealth to embrace every suitable occasion of testifying their sense of the unexampled merits of George Washington toward his country; and it is their wish in particular, that those great works for its improvement, which, both as springing from the liberty which he has been so instrumental in establishing, and as encouraged by his patronage, will be durable monuments of his glory, may be made monuments also of the gratitude of his country.”

This mark of his countrymen's appreciation, was, of course, gratifying to Washington, but again, true to his convictions and his vows, he declined to receive the donation for his own benefit; but, as a matter of expediency, he offered to accept the shares, provided the legislature would allow him to appropriate them to the use of some object of a public nature. The assembly cheerfully acceded to his proposition. As the encouragement of education was a subject in which he felt deeply interested, he made over the shares of the James River Company to an institution in Rockbridge county, called Liberty Hall Academy, and those of the Potomac Company he bequeathed in perpetuity for the endowment of a university in the District of Columbia, under the auspices of the general government. Liberty Hall afterward became the flourishing Washington College, but the national university has never been established.

Other examples of Washington's interest in educational institutions, are on record. He cheerfully accepted the chancellorship of William and Mary college at Williamsburg; during many years he gave two hundred and fifty dollars annually for the instruction of poor children in Alexandria; and by his will he left four thousand dollars, the net income of which was to be used for the same object. “Other examples,” says Sparks, after enumerating these and other benevolent acts of the great and good man, “might be cited; and from his cautious habit of concealing from the world his deeds of charity, it may be presumed many others are unknown, in which his heart and his hand were open to the relief of indigent merit.”

We have observed that Washington's dreams of repose at Mount Vernon were not realized. Visitors from the old and the new world constantly increased, and among them came that champion of liberty, Catharine Macaulay Graham, whose pen had done noble service in the cause of human rights. She came with her husband, and professed to have crossed the Atlantic for the sole purpose of testifying, in person, her respect and admiration for the character and deeds of Washington. “A visit from a lady so celebrated in the literary world,” he wrote to Knox, “can not but be very flattering to me.”

His correspondence increased so rapidly, that it soon began to be burdensome. To Richard Henry Lee he wrote in February, 1785, when transmitting to him a mass of papers which he had received from the pious Countess of Huntington, explaining her scheme for Christianizing the American Indians: “Many mistakingly think that I am retired to ease, and to that kind of tranquillity which would grow tiresome for want of employment; but at no period of my life, not in the eight years I served the public, have I been obliged to write so much myself, as I have done since my retirement. Was this confined to friendly communication, and to my own business, it would be equally pleasing and trifling; but I have a thousand references to old matters, with which I ought not to be troubled, but which, nevertheless, must receive some answer.”

1785

In a letter to General Knox he amplified this topic a little, saying: “It is not the letters from my friends which give me trouble, or add aught to my perplexity. It is reference to old matters with which I have nothing to do; applications which oftentimes can not be complied with; inquiries which would require the pen of a historian to satisfy; letters of compliment, as unmeaning, perhaps, as they are troublesome, but which must be attended to; and the common-place business, which employs my pen and my time, often disagreeably. Indeed, these, with company, deprive me of exercise, and unless I can obtain relief, must be productive of disagreeable consequences.”

For more than two years after the war, Washington kept neither clerk nor secretary. At length the labor became insupportable, and through the kind offices of General Lincoln, he procured the services of Tobias Lear, a talented young gentleman of New Hampshire, who had recently left Harvard college with honor. Mr. Lear took a social position at Mount Vernon, as one of the family at table and among the guests, and became greatly beloved by Washington. He remained there several years, accompanied the general to New York when he went there to take the chair of chief magistrate of the nation, and continued in his family until after the seat of government was removed to Philadelphia. He was again a resident at Mount Vernon, after the death of his wife, and was present when the master of the mansion died. Mr. Lear relieved Washington of much of the drudgery of the pen, and also took charge of the instruction of his adopted children, Master and Miss Custis.

Washington was also annoyed by the applications of artists and literary men, the former for him to give them sittings for his portrait, and the latter for materials for either his biography, or a general history of the Revolution. He positively refused compliance with the latter request, but occasionally indulged the former. At the solicitation of Francis Hopkinson, he sat to Robert Edge Pine, a diminutive Englishman and excellent artist. Pine was a warm republican, and came to America to collect portraits of distinguished persons for the purpose of painting a series of pictures illustrative of the War for Independence.

Soon after Pine left Mount Vernon, Houdon, the eminent French portrait-sculptor was there, at the request of the legislature of Virginia, who had ordered a statue of Washington to be executed for the statehouse at Richmond. For such a purpose, and under such auspices, Washington was willing to submit to the manipulations of art, even those so unpleasant as the moulding of the face in plaster, and he wrote to Houdon, on his arrival in New York: “It will give me pleasure, sir, to welcome you to the seat of my retirement; and whatever I have, or can procure, that is necessary to your purpose, or convenient and agreeable to your wishes, you must freely command, as inclination to oblige you will be among the last things in which I shall be found deficient, either on your arrival or during your stay.”

Houdon made a plaster-mould from Washington's face, modelled a complete head and bust in clay, made a cast from that, took the latter to France, and from it executed the statue now in the capitol at Richmond. He made careful measurements of Washington's figure, and in Paris, Gouverneur Morris stood for it.

During nearly all of the year 1785, Washington was engaged much of the time in the ornamentation of the grounds around the mansion he had greatly enlarged, and in the improvement of his farms. The relief from the pen afforded him by Mr. Lear, gave him time for pursuits of this nature, which he so much loved, and his diary abounds with brief records of his planting of trees and sowing of seeds. His Mount Vernon estate was divided into five farms, and several hundred acres of woodland. The mansion-house farm was his great care and delight, yet he managed the other four with skill and prudence. On them he had over fifty draught-horses, a dozen mules, more than three hundred head of black cattle, three hundred and sixty sheep, and a large number of swine that ran wild in the woods.

He was fond of improvements of every kind. The king of Spain hearing that he was anxious to procure the best breed of asses in Europe, for the propagation of mules on his estate, sent him a magnificent jack and two jennies. With this jack, and another sent to him by Lafayette, at about the same time, he raised some noble mules from his coach-mares. In a few years the Mount Vernon estate became stocked with a very superior breed, some of them rising to the height of sixteen hands.

From Arthur Young, an English agriculturist, Washington received many precious seeds, improved implements, and good advice in the laying out and management of farms. His early life habits were resumed—his early rising, his frugal breakfast, his ride over his estate, and his exact method in everything. He loved amusements still, but of a more quiet kind than those of his younger days. The pleasures of the chase were relinquished. His kennel was broken up, and his hounds, some of them a present from Lafayette, were given away.

Washington was a most cheerful, companionable man at home, yet always dignified. “General Washington is, I believe,” said Mr. Lear, after two years residence in his family, “almost the only man of an exalted character, who does not lose some part of his respectability by an intimate acquaintance. I have never found a single thing that could lessen my respect for him. A complete knowledge of his honesty, uprightness, and candor in all his private transactions, has sometimes led me to think him more than a man.”

In his family he was peculiarly kind and affectionate. Between himself and Mrs. Washington the most perfect harmony existed. In all his intercourse with his wife, he was most considerate. Mrs. Lewis (Nelly Custis) said she had often seen Mrs. Washington, when she had something to communicate, or a request to make, at a moment when the general's mind was entirely abstracted from the present, seize him by the button to command his attention, when he would look down upon her with a most benignant smile, and, become at once attentive to her wishes, which were never slighted.

Thus, in the management of his estate, the entertainment of his guests, correspondence with his friends at home and abroad, and the contemplation of years of peaceful life that lay before him, Washington's hours glided away for a season. Meanwhile the political horizon of his country began to darken, and omens of a fearful storm appeared. The people looked to their ancient pilot for help, and at the hour when he was dreaming most sweetly of domestic quiet, they called him to take the helm, for the ship of state was in danger. He was soon at the post of responsibility, upon the turbulent sea of political life.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] Life of Washington, page 379.

CHAPTER V.

TOP

jealousies of the states—weakness of congress—views of washington and his compatriots—washington's letter to james warren on the confederation—conference at mount vernon—washington suggests a national commercial convention—hamilton's views of the confederation—the continentalist—hamilton recommends a general convention of states to amend the confederation—seconded by the new york legislature—letter of jay to washington—washington's reply—an impending crisis—washington's second letter to jay—washington's influence in his retirement—convention at annapolis a failure—another recommended—washington appointed a delegate from virginia—he hesitates—congress recommends a convention—washington accepts the appointment and proceeds to philadelphia.

We have had occasion, from time to time, to notice the jealousies of individual states toward the continental Congress during the war, and the consequent weakness of that body, as an executive of the will of the people, at times when strength and energetic action were most needed.

It was with great difficulty that the states were brought to agree to the Articles of Confederation, and nothing but the pressure of a common danger, which required unity of action, could have induced them to surrender even so much of their individual sovereignty as those articles required. When, therefore, the common danger had passed, and the people felt security in the pursuits of peace, sectional and provincial pride began to operate powerfully in dissolving the union of the states. The Congress, doubtful of their power, and but little relied upon by the great mass of the people as an instrument for the promotion of national prosperity, were incompetent to execute treaties, to regulate commerce, or to provide for the payment of debts contracted for the confederation, amounting in the aggregate, foreign and domestic, to a little more than forty millions of dollars. And that body itself was often distracted by party dissentions, and rendered powerless to exercise even its acknowledged authority, through disagreement.

To Washington and other sagacious minds, the Articles of Confederation had been regarded as essentially defective as a system of government, long before the war had ceased. They perceived the necessity for a greater centralization of power in the general government; and that necessity became painfully apparent when peace came, and the people of the several states found themselves in the condition of independent sovereignty. The system of credit for the extinction of the national debt, and to provide for the national expenditures, devised by the Congress, was tardily accepted by most of the states, and utterly neglected by others. Local interests and prejudices were consulted instead of the national welfare; treaty stipulations were disregarded, and the confederation became, in many respects, a dead letter.

“The confederation appears to me,” Washington wrote to James Warren, in October, 1785, “to be little more than a shadow without the substance, and Congress a nugatory body, their ordinances being little attended to. To me it is a solecism in politics, indeed, it is one of the most extraordinary things in nature, that we should confederate as a nation, and yet be afraid to give the rulers of that nation (who are the creatures of our own making, appointed for a limited and short duration, and who are amenable for every action, and may be recalled at any moment, and are subject to all the evils which they may be instrumental in producing) sufficient powers to order and direct the affairs of the same. By such policy as this the wheels of government are clogged, and our brightest prospects, and that high expectation which was entertained of us by the wondering world, are turned into astonishment; and, from the high ground on which we stood, we are descending into the vale of confusion and darkness.

“That we have it in our power to become one of the most respectable nations upon earth, admits, in my humble opinion, of no doubt, if we would but pursue a wise, just, and liberal policy toward one another, and keep good faith with the rest of the world. That our resources are ample and increasing, none can deny; but while they are grudgingly applied, or not applied at all, we give a vital stab to public faith, and shall sink, in the eyes of Europe, into contempt.

“It has long been a speculative question among philosophers and wise men, whether foreign commerce is of real advantage to any country; that is, whether the luxury, effeminacy, and corruptions, which are introduced along with it, are counterbalanced by the convenience and wealth which it brings. But the decision of this question is of very little importance to us. We have abundant reason to be convinced, that the spirit of trade which pervades these states, is not to be restrained. It behooves us, then, to establish just principles; and this can not, any more than other matters of national concerns, be done by thirteen heads differently constructed and organized. The necessity, therefore, of a controlling power is obvious; and why it should be withheld is beyond my comprehension.”

A little earlier than this, Washington had been engaged in grave discussions at Mount Vernon, with commissioners who had been appointed by the assemblies of Virginia and Maryland, to form a compact in relation to the navigation of the Potomac and Pocomoke rivers, and a part of Chesapeake bay. During the conference he suggested the idea of a conjunction of the several states in arrangements of a commercial nature, over which the Congress, under the Articles of Confederation, had no control. In this suggestion lay the kernel of future most important action, which finally led to the great result of a convention of the states, the abandonment of the old confederation, and the adoption of the Federal Constitution.

But earlier far than this, one of the most extraordinary young men of the last century—indeed, of any century—had, with wonderful sagacity, perceived the evils that would naturally be developed by a weak central government, and had pleaded eloquently with the people to give the Congress more power. That young man was Alexander Hamilton, who, as early as 1781, put forth his views on the subject in a series of papers, under the title of The Continentalist. He was then only twenty-four years of age, yet no man in the country appeared to have clearer views of what constituted true national policy, than he. Indeed, he spoke with the wisdom of a statesman of threescore years; and with Washington and others he deeply lamented the mischievous effects of the practical influence of the doctrine of state rights in its ultra phases. “An extreme jealousy of power,” he said, “is the attendant of all popular revolutions, and has seldom been without its evils. It is to this source we are to trace many of the fatal mistakes which have so deeply endangered the common cause; particularly that defect—a want of power in Congress.”

The Continentalist was published in the New York Packet, printed at Fishkill, in Duchess county, and the series were devoted chiefly to a discussion of the defects of the confederation. They excited great local and general interest; and finally Hamilton succeeded in having the subject of a general convention brought before the New York legislature, in 1782, while in session at Poughkeepsie. The idea Was a popular one with them, and on Sunday, the twenty-first of July, 1782, that body passed a series of resolutions, in the last of which it was remarked, “that it is essential to the common welfare, that there should be as soon as possible, a conference of the whole on the subject, and that it would be advisable for this purpose to propose to Congress to recommend, and to each state to adopt, the measure of assembling a GENERAL CONVENTION OF THE STATES, specially authorized to revise and amend the CONFEDERATION, reserving the right to the respective legislatures to ratify their determination.”

1786

This recommendation was pondered in other states, but the public authorities were not ready to adopt it. At length the suggestion of Washington, concerning a general commercial convention, was acted upon by the Virginia legislature. That action drew a letter from John Jay to Washington, in March, 1786, in which he said:—

“Experience has pointed out errors in our national government which call for correction, and which threaten to blast the fruit we expected from our tree of liberty. The correction proposed by Virginia may do some good, and would, perhaps, do more if it comprehended more objects. An opinion begins to prevail that a general convention for revising the Articles of Confederation would be expedient. Whether the people are yet ripe for such a measure, or whether the system proposed to be attained by it is only to be expected from calamity and commotion, is difficult to ascertain. I think we are in a delicate situation, and a variety of considerations and circumstances give me uneasiness.”

To this Washington responded in May, saying: “I coincide perfectly in sentiment with you, my dear sir, that there are errors in our national government which call for correction; loudly, I would add; but I shall find myself happily mistaken, if the remedies are at hand. We are certainly in a delicate situation; but my fear is, that the people are not yet sufficiently misled to retract from error. To be plain, I think there is more wickedness than ignorance mixed in our councils. Under this impression I scarcely know what opinion to entertain of a general convention. That it is necessary to revise and amend the Articles of Confederation, I entertain no doubt; but what may be the consequences of such an attempt, is doubtful. Yet something must be done, or the fabric must fall, for it certainly is tottering.”

It was the general impression, at that time, that an alarming crisis in public affairs was at hand, and during the whole summer of 1786, Washington was in constant correspondence with leading minds in different parts of the country. To Jay he again wrote in August, saying:—

“I do not conceive we can long exist as a nation, without having lodged somewhere a power, which will pervade the whole Union in as energetic a manner as the authority of the state governments extends over the several states. To be fearful of investing Congress with powers, constituted as that body is, appears to me the very climax of popular absurdity and madness. Could Congress exert them for the detriment of the public, without injuring themselves in an equal or greater proportion? Are not their interests inseparably connected with those of their constituents? By the rotation of appointment, must they not mingle frequently with the mass of citizens? Is it not rather to be apprehended, if they were possessed of the powers before described, that the individual members would be induced to use them, on many occasions, very timidly and inefficaciously, for fear of losing their popularity and future election? We must take human nature as we find it. Perfection falls not to the share of mortals.

“Many are of opinion, that Congress have too frequently made use of the suppliant, humble tone of requisition in application to the states, when they had a right to assert their imperial dignity and command obedience. Be that as it may, requisitions are a perfect nullity when thirteen sovereign, independent, disunited states, are in the habit of discussing and refusing compliance with them at their option. Requisitions are actually little better than a jest and a by-word throughout the land. If you tell the legislatures they have violated the treaty of peace, and invaded the prerogatives of the confederacy, they will laugh in your face. What then is to be done? They can not go on in the same train for ever. It is much to be feared, as you observe, that the better kind of people, being disgusted with the circumstances, will have their minds prepared for any revolution whatever.... I am told that even respectable characters speak of a monarchical form of government without horror. From thinking proceeds speaking; thence to acting is often but a single step. But how irrevocable and tremendous! What a triumph to our enemies to verify their predictions!... Would to God that wise measures may be taken in time to avert the consequences we have but too much reason to apprehend.

“Retired as I am from the world,” he continued, “I frankly acknowledge I can not feel myself an unconcerned spectator. Yet, having happily assisted in bringing the ship into port, and having been fairly discharged, it is not my business to embark again on a sea of troubles. Nor could it be expected that my sentiments and opinions could have much weight on the minds of my countrymen. They have been neglected, though given as a last legacy in the most solemn manner,” he said, referring to his circular to the governors of the states in the summer of 1783; “I had then, perhaps, some claim to public attention, I consider myself as having none at present.”

His sentiments and opinions did have great weight, and in his retirement at Mount Vernon, Washington exercised a most powerful influence. To the patriotic and thoughtful, his words were oracular, and the ear of the nation leaned in earnest silence toward Mount Vernon at that crisis, to catch the faintest whisper from the lips of the retired soldier, who was about to emerge as a sagacious statesman.

In September, 1786, commissioners met at Annapolis, at the suggestion of the legislature of Virginia, “to take into consideration the trade of the United States,” and “to report to the several states such an act relative to this great object, as, when unanimously ratified by them,” would enable “the United States in Congress assembled,” effectually to provide for such a uniform system in their commercial relations as might be necessary to their common interest and their social harmony.

Only five states (Virginia, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York) were represented in the convention. The deputies assembled on the eleventh, and appointed John Dickenson, of Pennsylvania, chairman. A committee was appointed to prepare a draft of a report to be made to the legislatures of the several states there represented. That committee reported on the fourteenth, when, as a majority of the states were not represented in the convention, it was thought advisable to postpone further action. They adjourned, after recommending to the several states the appointment of deputies to meet in convention for a similar purpose, in May following. They also prepared a letter to Congress, to accompany a copy of the report to the several states represented, in which the defects of the Articles of Confederation were set forth.

When the Virginia assembly met, they resolved to appoint seven delegates to represent that state in the proposed convention, and placed Washington's name at the head of the list of deputies selected. The appointment was made by the unanimous voice of the assembly, and the fact was first communicated to him by Mr. Madison. Washington was embarrassed. He heartily approved of the measure, and was willing to leave the retirement of private life for a season, to serve his country in a dark and critical hour; but he could not do so at that time, without being obnoxious to the charge of inconsistency, and of disrespect to a class of his fellow-citizens, who, above all others, he most loved.

“I presume you have heard, sir,” he said to Madison, “that I was first appointed, and have since been re-chosen, president of the society of the Cincinnati; and you may have understood, also, that the triennial general meeting of this body is to be held in Philadelphia the first Monday in May next. Some particular reasons, combining with the peculiar situation of my private concerns, the necessity of paying attention to them, a wish for retirement and relaxation from public cares, and rheumatic pains which I begin to feel very sensibly, induced me to address a circular letter to each state society, informing them of my intention not to be at the next meeting, and of my desire not to be re-chosen president.”

Under these circumstances, and as the convention was to assemble at the same place and at about the same time, he felt that he ought to decline serving, for he could not appear there without giving offence to the members of the society. They might, with reason, have grounds for suspecting his sincerity, or even of his having deserted the officers who had so nobly supported him during the war for independence. He, therefore, in reply to the governor's official notification of his appointment, expressed a wish that some other gentleman should be substituted for himself.

Washington did not absolutely refuse to serve, and Governor Randolph suggested that perhaps before the time for the assembling of the convention the objections in his mind might be removed. His name was therefore continued at the head of the Virginia convention.

Time moved on, and the subject of the convention of the states occupied a large place in the public mind. Washington received many letters. Some of these from his warm, personal friends expressed doubts of the propriety of his attending the convention, and others advised against it. Some thought that, as it did not originate with the supreme legislature, acting under the articles of confederation which that convention was called to revise, it would be illegal; and those who were very tender of Washington's character, and had doubts concerning the results of such convention, advised against his going, as his brilliant reputation might suffer, should the whole affair prove abortive; while others, having heard insinuations that the opposers of the convention were monarchists, advised his going, to show that he favored it, and to give the weight of his name to a really republican movement in which the best interests of his country were involved.

Circumstances did finally occur which removed all objections from Washington's mind. The Congress legalized the convention by a resolution which declared it expedient, and fixing the day for its meeting. That day was the second Monday in May, and was chosen in reference to the general meeting of the society of the Cincinnati, which was to take place a week earlier, that, thereby, Washington might be allowed to meet with his brothers of the fraternity if he chose. Another circumstance was the insinuation just alluded to, that the opponents of the convention were monarchists, who were willing to have the difficulties and dangers of the country increase, under the weak control of the confederation, until republicanism should become hateful to the people; and a third circumstance was a dangerous insurrection in Massachusetts which had grown out of efforts to enforce federal laws. Washington was unwilling to be classed among the opponents of the convention, or to remain inactive, while violence was assuming to defy all law, and when an era of anarchy in his country seemed about to dawn. Added to these considerations, and the sanction of the convention by law, his friends, whose minds had been changed in the course of a few months, now urged him, by every consideration of patriotism, to come forth from his retirement, for the salvation of the country depended in a great measure upon his exertions. Washington no longer hesitated, and prepared to go to the convention at the head of the Virginia deputies.

He resolved not to go uninformed upon the great subject that would engage the attention of that body, and he commenced a course of preparation. “His knowledge of the institutions of his country and of its political forms,” says Sparks, “both in their general character and minute affiliated relations, gained by inquiry and long experience, was probably as complete as that of any other man. But he was not satisfied with this alone. He read the history and examined the principles of the ancient and modern confederacies. There is a paper in his handwriting which contains an abstract of each, and in which are noted, in a methodical order, their chief characteristics, the kinds of authority they possessed, their modes of operation, and their defects. The confederacies analyzed in this paper are the Lycian, Amphictyonic, Achæn, Helvetic, Belgic, and Germanic. He also read the standard works on general politics and the science of government, abridging parts of them, according to his usual practice, that he might impress the essential points more deeply on his mind.” He resolved to do all in his power, in that convention, to affect a radical cure of the political maladies with which his country was afflicted.

Washington set out from Mount Vernon on the ninth of May, in his carriage, for Philadelphia, to attend the convention. He arrived at Chester on the thirteenth, and was there met by General Mifflin (who was then the speaker of the Pennsylvania assembly), Generals Knox and Varnum, Colonels Humphreys and Meigs, and Majors Jackson and Nicholas, by whom he was escorted toward Philadelphia. At Gray's ferry, on the Schuylkill, a company of light-horse under Colonel Miles met and escorted him into the city, when the bells were rung in honor of his arrival. On the pressing invitation of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Morris, he took lodgings with them; and as soon as the dust of travel could be removed, he called upon Doctor Franklin, who was at that time president of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania. The following day was the time appointed for the assembling of the convention.

Washington Presiding in the Convention. 1787

CHAPTER VI.

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the convention of states—washington chosen president of the convention—randolph's speech and resolutions—number and names of delegates—notice of some of them—franklin in the convention of 1754—the leading speakers in the convention—position of the members in regard to precedents—synopsis of randolph's plan—pinckney's sketch—national and state-rights men—patterson's plan—virginia and new jersey plans—hamilton dissents from both—his character, speech, and scheme—all plans and amendments referred to a committee for revision—a constitution reported and adopted—critical periods in the convention—subjects for differences—washington's apprehensions and views—patriotism of hamilton—the constitution signed—remarks by washington and franklin—close of the convention.

1787

On Monday, the fourteenth day of May, 1787, those delegates to the convention called to revise the Articles of Confederation who were then in Philadelphia, assembled in the large room in the statehouse, since known as Independence hall; but it was not until Friday, the twenty-fifth, that seven states, the number required by Congress to form a quorum, were represented, and the convention was organized. On that day, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Virginia, and North and South Carolina, were represented by an aggregate number of twenty-seven delegates; and on the nomination of Robert Morris, in behalf of the state of Pennsylvania, Washington was, by unanimous vote, elected president of the convention. William Jackson was chosen secretary; and on Monday, the twenty-eighth, Edmund Randolph, of Virginia, at the request of his colleagues, opened the business of the convention by an elaborate speech, in which he showed the defects of the Articles of Confederation, illustrated their utter inadequacy to secure the peace and safety of the republic, and the absolute necessity of a more energetic government. When he closed his remarks, he offered for the consideration of the convention fifteen resolutions; not as a system of organic law, but as leading principles whereon to form a new government.

Very soon after the commencement of the session, eleven states were represented. New Hampshire sent delegates at the close of June, but the Rhode Island assembly refused to elect any. Some of the most influential men of that little commonwealth united in a letter to the convention, in which they expressed warm sympathy with the movement.

Sixty-one delegates had been appointed at the beginning of July, but only about fifty served in the convention.[8] These were among the most illustrious citizens of the republic, most of whom had been distinguished for worth of character, talents, and patriotism, during the late struggle for the independence of the colonies. Eighteen of them were at that time members of the continental Congress.

It is not proposed to consider in detail, nor even in a synoptical manner, the proceedings of that convention, which occupied several hours each day for four months. We will merely glance at the men and measures, contemplate the result, and leave the reader to seek, in special sources, for information concerning the important and interesting subject of the formation of our federal constitution.[9]

Portraits of Rufus King, John Dickinson,
Gouverneur Morris, Oliver Ellsworth, and John Rutledge

Next to Washington, the venerable Doctor Franklin, then a little over eighty-one years of age, was the most conspicuous member. Thirty-three years before, he had submitted to a convention of colonial delegates, held at Albany, a plan for a confederation, similar to our federal constitution, but it was not adopted. It satisfied neither the board of trade to whom it was submitted, nor the colonial assemblies who discussed it. “The assemblies did not adopt it,” he said, “as they all thought there was too much prerogative in it, and in England it was judged to have too much of the democratic.”

Dickinson, Johnson, and Rutledge, had been members of the stamp-act Congress in 1765. The first and last had been compatriots with Washington in the Congress of 1774, and Sherman, Livingston, Read, and Wythe, had shared the same honors. The two latter, with Franklin, Sherman, Gerry, Morris, Clymer, and Wilson, had signed the Declaration of Independence. Washington, Mifflin, Hamilton, and Cotesworth Pinckney, represented the continental army; and the younger members, who became prominent after the Declaration of Independence, were Hamilton, Madison, and Edmund Randolph. The latter was then governor of Virginia, having succeeded Patrick Henry.

The leading speakers in the long and warm debates elicited by the resolutions of Governor Randolph and others, were King, Gerry, and Gorham, of Massachusetts; Hamilton and Lansing, of New York; Ellsworth, Johnson, and Sherman, of Connecticut; Paterson, of New Jersey, who presented a scheme counter to that of Randolph; Franklin, Wilson, and Morris, of Pennsylvania; Dickinson, of Delaware; Martin, of Maryland; Randolph, Madison, and Mason, of Virginia; Williamson, of North Carolina; and the Pinckneys, of South Carolina. Such were the men with whom Washington was associated in the contrivance and construction of a new system of government.

“At that time,” says Curtis, “the world had witnessed no such spectacle as that of the deputies of a nation, chosen by the free action of great communities, and assembled for the purpose of thoroughly reforming its constitution, by the exercise and with the authority of the national will. All that had been done, both in ancient and in modern times, in forming, moulding, or modifying constitutions of government, bore little resemblance to the present undertaking of the states of America. Neither among the Greeks nor the Romans was there a precedent, and scarcely an analogy.”

The great political maxim established by the Revolution was the original residence of all human sovereignty in the people; and the statesmen in the federal convention had scarcely any precedent, in theory or practice, by which they might be governed in parcelling out so much of that sovereignty as the people of the several states should be willing to dismiss from their local political institutions, in making a strong and harmonious federal republic, that should be at the same time harmless toward reserved state-rights.

Randolph's resolutions proposed: First, To correct and enlarge the Articles of Confederation, so as to accomplish the original objects of common defence, security of liberty, and general welfare. Secondly, To make the right of suffrage in the national legislature proportioned to the quotas of contribution, or to the number of free inhabitants, as might seem best in different cases. Thirdly, To make the national legislature consist of two branches; the members of the first to be elected by the people of the several states at certain intervals for a specified term. They were to be of a prescribed age, entitled to liberal emolument for their public services, and to be ineligible to any office, state or federal, except such as pertained to the functions of that first branch, during their service; also to be ineligible to re-election until after a certain space of time succeeding their term of service. Fourthly, To have the members of the second branch elected by those of the first from among those who should be nominated by the state legislatures; to hold their offices “for a term sufficient to insure their independency;” to be liberally paid for their services, and to be subject to restrictions similar to those of the first. Fifthly, To have each branch invested with power to originate acts; to give the national legislature the right to legislate in all cases where the state governments might be incompetent, or in which the harmony of the confederation might be interrupted by the exercise of individual legislation; to negative all laws passed by the individual states that might contravene the articles of union; and to call forth the whole Union against any member of the confederation that should fail to fulfil its stipulated duty. Sixthly, To institute a national executive, to be chosen periodically, liberally remunerated, and to be ineligible to a second official term. Seventhly, To constitute the executive and a convenient number of the national judiciary a council of revision, who should have authority to examine every act of the national legislature before it should operate, and of every individual legislature before a negative thereon should be final, the dissent of said council amounting to a rejection unless such act be again passed, or that of such particular legislature should be again negatived by a specified number of members of each branch. Eighthly, To establish a national judiciary, the members of which should hold office during good behavior; and to define their duties, powers, privileges, and emoluments. Ninthly, To provide for the admission of new states into the Union. Tenthly, To guaranty a republican form of government to each state and territory. Eleventhly, To provide for a continuation of a Congress with its delegated powers, until a new constitution should be established. Twelfthly, To make provision for the amendment of the article of union whenever it should seem necessary, the assent thereto of the national legislature to be required. Thirteenthly, To require the legislative, executive, and judiciary powers within the several states to be bound by oath to support the Union. Fourteenthly, To submit the amendments made by the convention, after the approbation of the same by Congress, “to an assembly or assemblies of representatives, recommended by the several legislatures, to be expressly chosen by the people, to consider and decide thereon.”

Upon general principles, the scheme of Randolph, called the “Virginia plan,” was highly approved; but there were many zealous and pure-minded patriots in that convention, who regarded the preservation of state sovereignty, in all its integrity, as essential to the stability of the republic. Holding the “Virginia plan” to be an infringement upon the prerogatives of such sovereignty, they opposed it with vehemence. This plan and a sketch submitted by Charles Pinckney, which appears to have furnished the outline of the constitution as finally adopted, was referred to a committee.

The question arose at the beginning, and frequently recurred, “What limit has the convention in revising the Articles of Confederation? and has it power to prepare an entirely new system of government?” It was properly argued, that as a favorably-received resolution in Mr. Randolph's plan proposed to submit the matter finally to popular conventions in the several states, that question need not to be considered.

The debates were carried on warmly, day after day, in committee of the whole house, and the convention soon became divided into national and state-rights men, the representatives of six of the states being in favor of the broad national view, and five for the state-rights view.

Randolph's resolutions were taken up consecutively and debated for a fortnight, when, after many modifications, they were reported back to the house. Paterson, of New Jersey, then immediately brought forward a counter scheme, which was called the “New Jersey plan,” and embodied the peculiar views of the state-rights party. It proposed to preserve the continental Congress as the federal legislature, with additional power to levy duties on foreign importations; to impose stamp and postage taxes; to collect, without hinderance, requisitions not promptly met by the states; and to regulate commerce with foreign nations. It proposed a plural federal executive and a federal judiciary, and made acts of Congress and foreign treaties supreme laws.

Paterson's plan and Randolph's modified resolutions were referred to a new committee, and the whole question concerning a national government was again considered. Again debates ran high. In the course of these, Hamilton, who had come into the convention with more courage and fixed plan than any other member, avowed his dissent from both the schemes before the committee. He was listened to with the most profound respect; and gray-haired men, as they looked upon his delicate form and youthful features, were filled with wonder at the display of his great genius for political construction, his extensive knowledge of the means by which true conservative liberty might be secured, and his thorough comprehension of the wants and resources of his country. He had come into the convention fully prepared to propound a solution of the great questions which he knew would perplex the members; and at the close of an elaborate and in many respects most extraordinary speech, he offered a written sketch of a system, not, he said, for discussion in the committee, nor with the idea that the public mind was yet prepared for it, but as explanatory of his own views and introductory to some amendments he intended to propose. He then departed for New York, leaving his two colleagues, who took the state-rights view of the matter, to represent his state in the convention. They too soon left, and never returned.

Day after day and week after week the debates continued, sometimes with great courtesy, and sometimes with considerable acrimony, until the tenth of September, when all plans and amendments which had been adopted by the convention were placed in the hands of a committee for revision and arrangement. Hamilton, who had returned to the convention at the middle of August, was placed upon that committee, having for his associates Messrs. Madison, King, Johnson, and Gouverneur Morris. To the latter was intrusted the task of giving the finish to the style and arrangement of the instrument. It was then reported to the convention, taken up clause by clause, discussed, somewhat amended, and ordered to be engrossed. On the fifteenth it was agreed to as amended, by all the states present, and on the seventeenth a fair copy was brought in to receive the signatures of the members.

Many times, during that long session of almost four months, there were serious apprehensions of failure, the views of members differed so essentially upon important points. One of the most exciting of these questions which elicited zealous debates, was a proposition for the general government to assume the debts of the respective states. The debts of the several commonwealths were vastly unequal, and the proposition was therefore distasteful to several. For example, those of Massachusetts and South Carolina amounted to more than ten and a half millions of dollars, while those of all the other states did not exceed, in the aggregate, fifteen millions.

But the most serious subject for difference was that of representation in the senatorial branch of the national legislature, the smaller states claiming, and the larger ones opposing, the exercise of the rule of equality. For a long time an equal division of votes on that point had been reiterated, and most of the members began to feel assured that no compromise could be effected. But the matter was finally adjusted by mutual concessions, and a plan for the construction of the senate upon the basis of an equal number of representatives from each of the states, large and small, was adopted.

Frequently during the session of the convention, Washington had serious apprehensions concerning the result. He perceived with much anxiety a disposition to withhold power from the national legislature, which, in his opinion, was the chief cause of the inadequacy of the confederation to fulfil its mission. “Happy indeed will it be,” he wrote to David Stuart on the first of July, “if the convention shall be able to recommend such a firm and permanent government for this Union, that all who live under it may be secure in their lives, liberty, and property; and thrice happy would it be if such a recommendation should obtain. Everybody wishes, everybody expects something from the convention; but what will be the final result of its deliberations the book of fate must disclose. Persuaded I am, that the primary cause of all our disorders lies in the different state governments, and in the tenacity of that power which pervades the whole of their systems. Whilst independent sovereignty is so ardently contended for, whilst the local views of each state, and separate interests by which they are too much governed, will not yield to a more enlarged scale of politics, incompatibility in the laws of different states, and disrespect to those of the general government, must render the situation of this great country weak, inefficient, and disgraceful. It has already done so, almost to the final dissolution of it. Weak at home, and disregarded abroad, is our present condition, and contemptible enough it is.”

“Thirteen governments,” he wrote on the fifteenth of August, “pulling against each other, and all tugging at the federal head, will soon bring ruin on the whole; whereas, a liberal and energetic constitution, well checked and well watched, to prevent encroachments, might restore us to that degree of respectability and consequence to which we had the fairest prospect of attaining.” And again: “I confess that my opinion of public virtue is so far changed, that I have my doubts whether any system, without means of coercion in the sovereign, will enforce due obedience to the ordinances of a general government, without which everything else fails.”

Although Washington took no part in the debates of the convention, his opinions, concurrent with those of Hamilton, were firmly and strongly expressed, and had great influence. The constitution as finally framed and adopted did not receive his unqualified approval. He had decided objections to several of its features; but he accepted it as a whole, as the best that could be obtained under the circumstances, firmly persuaded that it was a great step in advance of the confederation, and that experience in its workings would suggest necessary amendments, for which ample provision was made. In fact, the instrument did not wholly please a single member of the convention. It was, to a considerable extent, a patchwork of compromises, and many doubted its being ratified by a majority of the states.

Hamilton regarded the constitution as adopted with feelings of disappointment. It lacked the strength that he desired it to possess; but, like Washington, he yielded his private sentiments and impulses to the consideration of the public good. His own plan, which he had urged with all his eloquence and energy, differed radically from the one adopted; yet, with a nobleness of spirit which challenges our highest admiration, he sacrificed the pride of opinion, and when the constitution had passed the ordeal of severest criticism and amendment by the convention, he avowed himself ready to sign it, and urged others, who hesitated, to do the same “No man's ideas are more remote from the plan than my own,” he said; “but is it possible to deliberate between anarchy and confusion on one side, and the chance of good on the other.”

A large majority of the members desired that the instrument should go forth to the people, not only as the act of the convention, but with the individual sanction and signatures of their representatives. Franklin, desirous of having it promulgated with such sanction, arose with a written speech in his hand when the engrossed copy was brought in, in which, with pleasant words, he endeavored to allay the irritated temper of some of the delegates, and procure for the constitution unanimous signature. Mr. Wilson read the speech, and it was closed with a form suggested by Gouverneur Morris, which might be signed without implying personal approval of the instrument: “Done by consent of the states present. In testimony whereof, we have subscribed,” et cetera.

The appeals of Hamilton and Franklin, a few approving words of Washington, and the example of Madison and Pinckney, secured the signatures of several dissatisfied members; and all present, except Mason and Randolph of Virginia, and Gerry of Massachusetts, signed the constitution.[10] The absence of the colleagues of Mr. Hamilton (Yates and Lansing), who had left the convention in disgust on the first of July, caused New York to be regarded as not officially present; but, to secure for the proceedings the weight of a name so important as that of Hamilton, in the place that should have been filled by his state, was recited “Mr. Hamilton of New York.”

“There is a tradition,” says Curtis, “that when Washington was about to sign the instrument, he rose from his seat, and holding the pen in his hand, after a short pause, pronounced these words: 'Should the states reject this excellent constitution, the probability is that an opportunity will never again offer to cancel another in peace—the next will be drawn in blood.' While the members were signing, Doctor Franklin, looking toward the chair occupied by Washington, at the back of which a sun was painted, observed to the persons near him: 'I have often and often, in the course of the session, and the vicissitudes of my hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at that sun behind the president, without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting: at length I have the happiness to know it is a rising, not a setting sun.'”

The great convention adjourned on the seventeenth of September, after directing a copy of the constitution, with an accompanying letter, to be sent to the Congress. The journal of the convention was placed in the hands of Washington (by whom it was afterward deposited in the department of state); and on the following morning he wrote in his dairy: “The business being thus closed, the members adjourned to the City Tavern, dined together, and took a cordial leave of each other; after which, I returned to my lodgings, did some business with, and received the papers from, the secretary of the convention, and retired to meditate on the momentous work which had been executed, after not less than five, for a large part of the time six, and sometimes seven hours' sitting every day (except Sundays, and the ten days' adjournment to give a committee an opportunity and time to arrange the business) for more than four months.”

FOOTNOTES:

[8] The following are the names of the delegates: New Hampshire—John Langdon, John Pickering, Nicholas Gilman, and Benjamin West. Massachusetts—Francis Dana, Elbridge Gerry, Nathaniel Gorham, Rufus King, and Caleb Strong. Connecticut—William Samuel Johnson, Roger Sherman, and Oliver Ellsworth. New York—Robert Yates, John Lansing, Jr., and Alexander Hamilton. New Jersey—David Brearly, William Churchill Houston, William Paterson, John Neilson, William Livingston, Abraham Clark, and Jonathan Dayton. Pennsylvania—Thomas Mifflin, Robert Morris, George Clymer, Jared Ingersoll, Thomas Fitzsimons, James Wilson, Gouverneur Morris, and Benjamin Franklin. Delaware—George Read, Gunning Bedford, Jr., John Dickinson, Richard Bassett, and Jacob Broom. Maryland—James M'Henry, Daniel of St. Thomas Jenifer, Daniel Carroll, John Francis Mercer, and Luther Martin. Virginia—George Washington, Patrick Henry (refused to serve, and James M'Clure was nominated in his place), Edmund Randolph, John Blair, James Madison, Jr., George Mason, and George Wythe. North Carolina—Richard Caswell, Alexander Martin, William Richardson Davie, Richard Dobbs Spaight, and Willie Jones: Caswell and Jones having declined to serve, William Blount and Hugh Williamson were chosen in their places. South Carolina—John Rutledge, Charles Pinckney, Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, and Pierce Butler. Georgia—William Few, Abraham Baldwin, William Pierce, George Walton, William Houston, and Nathaniel Pendleton.

[9] Curtis's History of the Origin, Formation, and Adoption of the Constitution of the United States is by far the most ample and reliable source of information on this subject.

[10] The following are the names of the delegates who signed the constitution: Geo. Washington, President, and deputy from Virginia. New Hampshire—John Langdon, Nicholas Gilman. Massachusetts—Nathaniel Gorham, Rufus King. Connecticut—William Samuel Johnson, Roger Sherman. New York—Alexander Hamilton. New Jersey—William Livingston, David Brearly, William Paterson, Jonathan Dayton. Pennsylvania—Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Mifflin, Robert Morris, George Clymer, Thomas Fitzsimons, Jared Ingersoll, James Wilson, Gouverneur Morris. Delaware—George Reed, Gunning Bedford, Jr., John Dickinson, Richard Bassett, Jacob Broom. Maryland—James M'Henry, Daniel of St. Thomas Jenifer, Daniel Carroll. Virginia—John Blair, James Madison, Jr. North Carolina—William Blount, Richard Dobbs Spaight, Hugh Williamson. South Carolina—John Rutledge, Charles C. Pinckney, Charles Pinckney, Pierce Butler. Georgia—William Few, Abraham Baldwin. Attest: William Jackson, Secretary.

CHAPTER VII.

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the constitution submitted to the state legislatures—the great conflict of opinions—washington's letters to mrs. graham and lafayette on the subject—hamilton prepares for the battle—his preliminary remarks—opposition to the constitution—the federalist—stormy debates in state conventions—ratification of the constitution—measures for establishing the new government—washington's thankfulness for the result—washington spontaneously nominated for the presidency—his great reluctance to enter upon public life again—letters to his friends on the subject—washington elected president of the united states—preparations for leaving home—visit to, and parting with his mother—his journey to the seat of government like a triumphal procession—honors by the way—arrival and reception at new york—his sense of responsibility.

The Congress, on the twenty-eighth of September, unanimously resolved to send the constitution adopted by the convention, and the accompanying letters, to the legislatures of the several states, and to recommend them to call conventions within their respective jurisdictions to consider it. And it was agreed, that when nine of the thirteen states should ratify it, it should become the fundamental law of the republic.

And now commenced the first great and general conflict of political opinions since the establishment of the independence of the United States; and in each of the several commonwealths, men of the first rank in talent, social position, and sound moral and political integrity, became engaged in the discussion of the great question of national government. That conflict had commenced in the general convention, but the proceedings of that body were under the seal of secrecy. Yet the positions assumed by the delegates in the general discussion in their several states, revealed the fact that extreme diversity of opinion had prevailed in the convention, and that the constitution was composed of compromises marked with the scars of severe conflict.

Referring to these differences of opinion in the convention, Washington remarked to Catharine Macaulay Graham, in a letter written on the sixteenth of November, that “the various and opposite interests which were to be conciliated, the local prejudices which were to be subdued, the diversity of opinions and sentiments which were to be reconciled, and, in fine, the sacrifices which were necessary to be made on all sides for the general welfare, combined to make it a work of so intricate and difficult a nature, that I think it is much to be wondered at that anything could have been produced with such unanimity as the constitution proposed.... Whether it will be adopted by the people or not remains yet to be determined.”

To Lafayette he wrote in February following: “It appears to me little short of a miracle that the delegates from so many states, different from each other, as you know, in their manners, circumstances, and prejudices, should unite in forming a system of national government, so little liable to well-founded objections.” After alluding to its obvious defects, he continued:—

“With regard to the two great points, the pivots upon which the whole machine must move, my creed is simply: First, that the general government is not invested with more powers than are indispensably necessary to perform the functions of a good government; and, consequently, that no objection ought to be made against the quantity of power delegated to it. Secondly, that these powers, as the appointment of all rulers will for ever arise from, and at short stated intervals recur to, the free suffrage of the people, are so distributed among the legislative, executive, and judicial branches, into which the general government is arranged, that it can never be in danger of degenerating into a monarchy, an oligarchy, an aristocracy, or any other despotic or oppressive form, so long as there shall remain any virtue in the body of the people.

“I would not be understood, my dear marquis, to speak of consequences which may be produced, in the revolution of ages, by corruption of morals, profligacy of manners, and listlessness in the preservation of the natural and inalienable rights of mankind, nor of the successful usurpations that may be established at such an unpropitious juncture upon the ruins of liberty, however providently guarded and secured, as these are contingencies against which no human prudence can effectually provide. It will at least be a recommendation to the proposed constitution, that it is provided with more checks and barriers against the introduction of tyranny, and those of a nature less liable to be surmounted, than any government hitherto instituted among mortals. We are not to expect perfection in this world; but mankind, in modern times, have apparently made some progress in the science of government. Should that which is now offered to the people of America be found an experiment less perfect than it can be made, a constitutional door is left open for its amelioration.”

Hamilton, with his usual marvellous sagacity, clearly perceived the shaping of the conflict to be fought, and at once assumed the panoply of a most acute contestant in its favor. “The new constitution,” he wrote immediately after the adjournment of the convention, “has in favor of its success these circumstances: A very great weight of influence of the persons who framed it, particularly in the universal popularity of General Washington. The good will of the commercial interest throughout the states, which will give all its efforts to the establishment of a government capable of regulating, protecting, and extending the commerce of the Union. The good will of most men of property in the several states, who wish a government of the Union able to protect them against domestic violence, and the depredations which the democratic spirit is apt to make on property; and who are, besides, anxious for the respectability of the nation. The hopes of the creditors of the United States that a general government, possessing the means of doing it, will pay the debt of the Union. A strong belief, in the people at large, of the insufficiency of the present confederation to preserve the existence of the Union, and of the necessity of the Union to their safety and prosperity; of course, a strong desire of change, and a predisposition to receive well the propositions of the convention.”

Very soon Hamilton, with other federalists, as the supporters of the constitution were called, found it necessary to put forth all his intellectual energies in defence of that instrument. Conventions were speedily called in the several states to consider it, and the friends and opponents of the constitution marshalled their respective antagonistic forces with great skill and zeal.

In Virgina, Patrick Henry, George Mason, and Richard Henry Lee, opposed the constitution with all their power and influence, chiefly because it would, in a degree, annul state rights, and base the sovereignty too absolutely upon the popular will. Mason led in the opposition, and Henry gave him the support of his eloquence. His arguments were those of all other opponents; and with the leaders in his own and other states, he raised the cry, which soon became general, that the new constitution had no bill of rights and no sufficient guaranties for personal liberty.

They cited the experience of the past to show, that of all national governments a democratic one was the most unstable, fluctuating, and short-lived; and that despotism, arising from a centralization of power in the national government on one hand, and anarchy, incident to the instability of democracy—“the levelling spirit of democracy” denounced by Gerry as “the worst of political evils”—on the other, were the Scylla and Charybdis between which the republic would, in the opinion of their opponents, be placed, with almost a certainty of being destroyed.

These views were ably combated in a series of political essays written by Hamilton and Madison, with a few numbers by John Jay, which were published in a New York newspaper, the object being, as stated by Hamilton in the first number, “A discussion of the utility of the Union; the insufficiency of the confederation to preserve that Union;” and “the necessity of a government at least equally energetic with the one proposed, to the attainment of this object.” These essays, under the general title of The Federalist, were written with uncommon ability, exerted a powerful influence, and present an admirable treatise on the philosophy of our federal constitution.[11]

1788

Long and stormy debates occurred in the state conventions; and it was not until the twenty-first of June, 1788, that New Hampshire, the ninth state in order, ratified the constitution.[12] It then became the organic law of the republic. The Congress, when testimonials of ratification were received from a sufficient number of states, appointed the first Wednesday of January, 1789, for the people of the United States to choose electors of a president in accordance with the provisions of the constitution; the first Wednesday in February following for the electors to meet and make a choice; and the first Wednesday in March ensuing for the new government to meet for organization in the city of New York.

While these discussions were going on, Washington remained at Mount Vernon, a most anxious spectator of the progress of political events, especially in his own state, where the opposition to the constitution was very powerful and well organized. He took no direct part in the proceedings of his state convention. “There is not, perhaps, a man in Virginia,” he wrote to General Lincoln, “less qualified than I am to say, from his own knowledge and observation, what will be the fate of the constitution here; for I very seldom ride beyond the limits of my own farms, and am wholly indebted to those gentlemen who visit me for any information of the disposition of the people toward it; but, from all I can collect, I have not the smallest doubt of its being accepted.”

Washington's views were freely expressed in conversations at Mount Vernon and in his letters, and they had great weight; and when, finally, the seal of approbation of the constitution was set by New Hampshire and his own state, and that instrument became the supreme law of the land, his heart was filled with gratitude to the Great Disposer of events for his manifest protection of the American people from the calamities with which they had so long been threatened. “We may, with a kind of pious and grateful exultation,” he wrote to Governor Trumbull, “trace the finger of Providence through those dark and mysterious events which first induced the states to appoint a general convention, and then led them, one after another, by such steps as were best calculated to effect the object into an adoption of the systems recommended by that general convention; thereby, in all human probability, laying a lasting foundation for tranquillity and happiness, when we had too much reason to fear that confusion and misery were coming rapidly upon us.”

The people of the Union, as if governed by one impulse, now turned to Washington as the man who, above all others, was best qualified to become the chief magistrate of the nation. He was informally nominated by Hamilton, almost before the members of the convention that framed and adopted the constitution had reached their homes. In a paper from which we have just quoted, published immediately after the adjournment of the convention, Hamilton said: “If the government be adopted, it is probable General Washington will be the president of the United States. This will insure a wise choice of men to administer the government, and a good administration. A good administration will conciliate the confidence and affection of the people, and perhaps enable the government to acquire more consistency than the proposed constitution seems to promise for so great a country.”

It was soon apparent to Washington that the universal sentiment of the people was in favor of his election to the chief magistracy. Almost every letter from his friends expressed a desire that he should accept the office when tendered to him, as it surely would be, by the electors chosen by the people; and before the elections were held, so general was the presumption that Washington would be the first president of the United States, that he received many letters soliciting appointments to office. These annoyed him exceedingly; for the subject, he said, never failed to embarrass and distress him beyond measure. The prospect of again being called into public life, in an arena in which difficulties more formidable and perplexing than those in a military sphere must be encountered, gave him great uneasiness. He loved his home, his family, and the quiet pursuits of agriculture; and he desired, above all earthly boons, the privilege of reposing among these.

To Hamilton he wrote, as early as August, 1788: “You know me well enough, my good sir, to be persuaded that I am not guilty of affectation when I tell you, that it is my great and sole desire to live and die in peace and retirement on my own farm.”

In October he again wrote to Hamilton, saying: “In taking a survey of the subject, in whatever point of light I have been able to place it, I will not suppress the acknowledgment, my dear sir, that I have always felt a kind of gloom upon my mind, as often as I have been taught to expect I might, and perhaps must ere long, be called to make a decision.”

To Governor Trumbull he wrote in December: “May Heaven assist me in forming a judgment; for at present I see nothing but clouds and darkness before me. Thus much I may safely say to you in confidence; if ever I should, from any apparent necessity, be induced to go from home in a public character again, it will certainly be the greatest sacrifice of feelings and happiness that ever was or ever can be made by me.”

To Lafayette he had written several months before, in reply to a hint of the marquis that he would be called to the presidency, and said: “It has no enticing charms and no fascinating allurements for me.... At my time of life and under my circumstances, the increasing infirmities of nature and the growing love of retirement do not permit me to entertain a wish beyond that of living and dying an honest man on my own farm. Let those follow the pursuits of ambition and fame who have a keener relish for them, or who may have more years in store for the enjoyment.”

As the time approached when he should make a decision, the mind of Washington was greatly exercised, and to all his friends he sincerely declared that no other consideration than the solemn requirements of his country could induce him to accept the office. These sentiments he expressed with full freedom to his intimate friend, Colonel Henry Lee, who had written to Washington with great warmth on the subject, and said: “Solicitous for our common happiness as a people, and convinced as I continue to be that our peace and prosperity depend on the proper improvement of the present period, my anxiety is extreme that the new government may have an auspicious beginning. To effect this, and to perpetuate a nation formed under your auspices, it is certain that again you will be called forth. The same principles of devotion to the good of mankind which have invariably governed your conduct, will, no doubt, continue to rule your mind, however opposite their consequences may be to your repose and happiness.... If the same success should attend your efforts on this important occasion which has distinguished you hitherto, then, to be sure, you will have spent a life which Providence rarely, if ever, gave to the lot of man.”

To this Washington replied: “The principal topic of your letter is to me a point of great delicacy indeed—insomuch that I can scarcely, without some impropriety, touch upon it.... You are among the small number of those who know my invincible attachment to domestic life, and that my sincerest wish is to continue in the enjoyment of it solely until my final hour. But the world would be neither so well instructed, nor so candidly disposed, as to believe me uninfluenced by sinister motives, in case any circumstance should render a deviation from the line of conduct I had prescribed to myself indispensable.

“Should the contingency you suggest take place, and (for argument's sake alone let me say it) should my unfeigned reluctance to accept the office be overcome by a deference for the reasons and opinions of my friends, might I not, after the declarations I have made (and Heaven knows that they were made in the sincerity of my heart), in the judgment of the impartial world and of posterity, be chargeable with levity and inconsistency, if not with rashness and ambition? Nay, farther, would there not be some apparent foundation for the two former charges? Now, justice to myself and tranquillity of conscience require that I should act a part, if not above imputation, at least capable of vindication. Nor will you conceive me to be too solicitous for reputation. Though I prize as I ought the good opinion of my fellow-citizens, yet, if I know myself, I would not seek or retain popularity at the expense of one social duty or moral virtue.

“While doing what my conscience informed me was right, as it respected my God, my country, and myself, I could despise all the party clamor and unjust censure which might be expected from some, whose personal enmity might be occasioned by their hostility to the government. I am conscious that I fear alone to give any real occasion for obloquy, and that I do not dread to meet with unmerited reproach. And certain I am, whensoever I shall be convinced the good of my country requires my reputation to be put in risk, regard for my own fame will not come in competition with an object of so much magnitude. If I declined the task, it would lie upon quite another principle. Notwithstanding my advanced season of life, my increasing fondness for agricultural amusements, and my growing love of retirement, augment and confirm my decided predilection for the character of a private citizen, yet it would be no one of these motives, nor the hazard to which my former reputation might be exposed, nor the terror of encountering new fatigues and troubles, that would deter me from an acceptance; but a belief that some other person, who had less pretense and less inclination to be excused, could execute all the duties fully as satisfactorily as myself.”

To Lafayette he wrote, after the elections were held in January, 1789, but before the electoral college met to make choice of a president: “I can say little or nothing new, in consequence of the repetition of your opinion, on the expediency there will be for my accepting the office to which you refer. Your sentiments, indeed, coincide much more nearly with those of my other friends than with my own feelings. In truth, my difficulties increase and multiply as I draw toward the period when, according to the common belief, it will be necessary for me to give a definitive answer, in one way or another. Should circumstances render it in a manner inevitably necessary to be in the affirmative, be assured, my dear sir, I shall assume the task with the most unfeigned reluctance, and with a real diffidence, for which I shall probably receive no credit from the world. If I know my own heart, nothing short of a conviction of duty will induce me again to take an active part in public affairs; and in that case, if I can form a plan for my own conduct, my endeavors shall be unremittingly exerted, even at the hazard of former fame or present popularity, to extricate my country from the embarrassments in which it is entangled through want of credit, and to establish a general system of policy which, if pursued, will insure permanent felicity to the commonwealth. I think I see a path, as clear and as direct as a ray of light, which leads to the attainment of that object. Nothing but harmony, honesty, industry, and frugality, are necessary to make us a great and happy people. Happily, the present posture of affairs, and the prevailing disposition of my countrymen, promise to co-operate in establishing those four great and essential pillars of public felicity.”

These sentences, taken from Washington's letters to his most intimate friends, show how little ambitious he was for the fame of statesmanship, and how honestly and eagerly he yearned for the quiet and obscurity of domestic life. At the same time, they reveal the true motives which led the great patriot to enter upon public employment, namely, a sincere love for his country, and a ready willingness to labor for the promotion of its best interests.

1789

At the prescribed time the elections took place, and the college, by unanimous voice, made choice of Washington for president of the United States, and John Adams for vice-president. True to his convictions of duty, the great leader of the armies of America consented to be the pilot of the ship of state for four years, and prepared accordingly to leave his beloved Mount Vernon for the stormy sea of public life. These preparations were made with sincere reluctance; and the delay of a month in forming a quorum of Congress, so that the votes for president were not counted officially until the beginning of April, was regarded by Washington with heartfelt satisfaction.

“The delay,” he said in a letter to General Knox on the first of April, “may be compared to a reprieve; for in confidence I tell you (with the world it would obtain little credit) that 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 a life nearly consumed in public cares, to quit a peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties, without that competency of political skill, abilities, and inclination, which are necessary to manage the helm. I am sensible that I am embarking the voice of the people and a good name of my own on this voyage; but what returns will be made for them, Heaven alone can foretell. Integrity and firmness are all I can promise. These, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me, although I may be deserted by all men; for of the consolations which are to be derived from these, under any circumstances, the world can not deprive me.”

The senate was organized on the sixth of April. The electoral votes were counted, and Washington was declared duly chosen president of the United States for four years from the fourth of March preceding. John Langdon, a senator from New Hampshire, had been chosen president of the senate pro tempore, and he immediately wrote an official letter to Washington notifying him of his election. This was borne by Charles Thomson, the secretary of the continental Congress from its first session in 1774. He reached Mount Vernon at about noon on the fourteenth, and on the evening of the sixteenth Washington wrote in his diary: “About ten o'clock I bade adieu to Mount Vernon, to private life and domestic felicity; and with a mind oppressed with more anxious and painful sensations than I have words to express, set out for New York with Mr. Thomson and Colonel Humphreys, with the best disposition to render service to my country in obedience to its call, but with less hope of answering its expectations.”

Meanwhile, the illustrious soldier, who was about to assume the most exalted civil duties that can be delegated to man, had made a quick journey to Fredericksburg, the residence of his mother, to bid her, what both of them considered, and what proved to be, a final adieu. She was then about fourscore years of age, and suffering from an acute and incurable malady. Their meeting was tender, and their parting peculiarly touching. “The people, madam,” said Washington to his mother, “have been pleased, with the most flattering unanimity, to elect me to the chief magistracy of these United States; but, before I can assume the functions of my office, I have come to bid you an affectionate farewell. So soon as the weight of public business, which must necessarily attend the outset of a new government, can be disposed of, I shall hasten to Virginia, and—” “You will see me no more,” said the matron, interrupting him. “My great age,” she continued, “and the disease which is fast approaching my vitals, warn me that I shall not be long in this world; I trust in God that I may be somewhat prepared for a better. But go, George, fulfill the high destiny which Heaven appears to have intended you for: go, my son; and may that Heaven's and a mother's blessing be with you always!”[13]

Washington was accompanied in his journey from Mount Vernon to New York (the then seat of the federal government) by Secretary Thomson and Colonel Humphreys, preceded in a stage by his private secretary, Tobias Lear. He desired to go in as private a manner as possible; but his wishes were thwarted by the irrepressible enthusiasm and love of his countrymen along the route. He was met at the very threshold of his own estate by a cavalcade of citizens of Alexandria—his neighbors and personal friends—who invited him to partake of a public dinner. He could not refuse; and, at the table, his feelings were most sensibly touched by the words of the mayor, who said: “The first and best of our citizens must leave us; our aged must lose their ornament, our youth their model, our agriculture its improver, our infant academy its protector, our poor their benefactor.... Farewell! Go, and make a grateful people happy; a people who will be doubly grateful when they contemplate this new sacrifice for their interests.”

Washington's feelings allowed him to make only a short reply. “Words fail me,” he said. “Unutterable sensations must, then, be left to more expressive silence, while from an aching heart I bid all my affectionate friends and kind neighbors farewell!”

All the way to the city of New York, the president's journey was a continued ovation. At every large town and village he was hailed with the most joyous acclamations. Deputations of the most valued inhabitants met him everywhere and formed escorts and processions. At Baltimore he was greeted by the ringing of bells and the thunders of artillery. At the frontier of Pennsylvania he was met by General Mifflin (then governor of the state) and Judge Peters at the head of a large cavalcade of citizens; and at Chester a grand procession, led by General St. Clair, formed an escort for the president into Philadelphia. This swelled in numbers and increased in interest as they approached the city.

At Gray's ferry, over the Schuylkill, triumphal arches were reared; and from one of these, as Washington passed under it, Angelica Peale (a little daughter of the painter, Charles Willson Peale), who was concealed in foliage, let down a civic crown upon his head, while the multitude filled the air with long and loud huzzas. At least twenty thousand people lined the road from the river to the city; and at every step the president was saluted with the cries, “Long live George Washington!” “Long live the father of his people!”

Washington Entering Trenton

Washington and his suite were entertained at a sumptuous banquet given at the City Tavern, at which the leading members of the state and city governments were present. In the evening there was a magnificent display of fireworks, such as the Philadelphians had never before seen.

At the banquet, the mayor of the city presented to Washington an official address, in behalf of himself and the council, in which a complimentary reference to the president's public services was made. “When I contemplate the interposition of Providence,” said Washington in reply, “as it was visibly manifested in guiding us through the Revolution, in preparing us for the reception of the general government, and in conciliating the good will of the people of America toward one another after its adoption, I feel myself oppressed and almost overwhelmed with a sense of Divine munificence. I feel that nothing is due to my personal agency in all these wonderful and complicated events, except what can be attributed to an honest zeal for the good of my country.”

The military of Philadelphia prepared to escort the president to Trenton the next morning, but rain prevented, and Washington and suite journeyed in a close carriage. Toward noon the clouds broke, and as they approached the Delaware the sun beamed out brightly, and a great crowd of people came to welcome the Father of his Country to the spot where, many years before, he had given a blow of deliverance, the most brilliant that was struck during the war. The contrast between the scenes that now broke upon his vision and those at the same place in the dark winter of 1776-'77, when hope for the republican cause had almost expired, and the sun of liberty for his country appeared to be setting among the clouds of utter despondency, must have created the most lively sensations of joy in his bosom. Memory with its sombre pencil drew the picture of the past, while present perception with its brilliant pencil portrayed passing events, that quickened the pulse and made the heart leap with pleasure.

Upon the very bridge over which, less than thirteen years before, Washington had fled before the troops of Cornwallis, a triumphal arch, made by the women of New Jersey, was now placed, bearing mementoes of his triumphs there, and the words: “The defender of the mothers will be the protector of the daughters.” And as he passed under that arch, the way was lined with mothers and daughters, all dressed in white, while thirteen young girls in like apparel, with wreaths upon their heads, and holding baskets of flowers in their hands, strewed blossoms in the way and sang:—

“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!”

Before he left Trenton, the president sent a brief note to the ladies who prepared this memorable reception, in which he said: “General Washington can not leave this place without expressing his acknowledgments to the matrons and young ladies who received him in so novel and grateful a manner at the Triumphal Arch, for the exquisite sensations he experienced in that affecting moment. The astonishing contrast between his former and his actual situation at the same spot, the elegant taste with which it was adorned for the present occasion, and the innocent appearance of the white-robed choir who met him with the gratulatory song, have made such an impression on his remembrance as, he assures them, will never be effaced.”

Reception of President Washington at New York, April 23, 1789.

Over the same route across New Jersey along which Washington fled toward the close of 1776, with his wasting little army, before an exulting foe, and in the midst of secret enemies on every side, he now made his way among a happy and peaceful people, who received him everywhere with the open arms of love and veneration, while the air was filled with the shouts of multitudes, the booming of cannon, and the ringing of bells. He arrived at Elizabethtown point, a few miles from New York, on the morning of the twenty-third of April, and there he was received by committees of both houses of Congress, officers of the federal, state, and municipal governments, and a large number of citizens who had collected from all parts of the country. A splendid barge had been constructed for the occasion, to carry the president to New York, and in it he embarked immediately after his arrival. It was manned by thirteen masters of vessels in white uniforms, commanded by Commodore James Nicholson; and other beautiful barges, fancifully decorated, conveyed the Congressional committees and the heads of departments. Other boats joined them on the way, some of them bearing musicians; and when they approached the city, whose shores and wharves, and every part of Fort George and the Battery, were covered with people, there was a grand flotilla in the procession, the oars keeping time with instrumental music.

All the vessels in the harbor but one were gayly decked with flags, and upon two of them parties of ladies and gentlemen sang gratulatory odes as the barge of the president approached. The exception was the Spanish man-of-war Galveston, which displayed no token of respect. A general feeling of indignation began to prevail, when in an instant, as the president's barge came abreast of her, her yards were manned as if by magic; every part of her rigging displayed flags of all nations, with the effect of an immense shrub bursting suddenly into gorgeous bloom; and the roar of thirteen cannon, discharged in quick succession, attested the reverence and respect of the Spanish admiral for the illustrious Washington. The effect upon the multitude was electrical, and over bay and city a shout, long and loud, floated upon the noontide air.

Washington was received at the stairs of Murray's wharf by his old friend Governor Clinton; and his loved companion-in-arms, General Knox, was there to welcome him, with a host of others of the army of the Revolution, who had come, some of them long distances, to look once more upon the face of their beloved Chief, to feel the grasp of his hand, and to hear his voice.

A carriage was in waiting to convey the president to his lodgings in Osgood's house, in Cherry-street, and a carpet had been spread, from the wharf to the vehicle, for him to tread upon. But he preferred to walk. A long civic and military train followed. From the streets, windows, balconies, and roofs, he was greeted with shouts and the waving of handkerchiefs. All the bells in the city rang out a joyful welcome; and from Colonel Bauman's artillery heavy peals of cannon joined the chorus. The president and a large company dined with Governor Clinton; and in the evening, the streets, though very wet after a warm shower, were filled with people to witness a general illumination of the houses.

While the name of Washington was spoken with reverence by every lip; while in the ears of senators were yet ringing the remarkable words of Vice-President Adams—“If we look over the catalogues of the first magistrates of nations, whether they have been denominated presidents or consuls, kings or princes, where shall we find one whose commanding talents and virtues, whose overruling good fortune, have so completely united all hearts and voices in his favor; who enjoyed the esteem and admiration of foreign nations and fellow-citizens with equal unanimity?” while the occasion of his arrival “arrested the public attention beyond all powers of description”—“the hand of industry was suspended, and the pleasures of the capital were centered in a single enjoyment,” that great man, exercised by a modest estimate of his own powers in a degree amounting almost to timidity, wrote in his diary:—

“The display of boats which attended and joined us on this occasion, some with vocal and some with instrumental music on board; the decorations of the ships; the roar of cannon, and the loud acclamations of the people which rent the skies as I passed along the wharves, filled my mind with sensations as painful (considering the reverse of this scene, which may be the case, after all my labors to do good) as they are pleasing.”

And a few days after his inauguration he wrote to Edward Rutledge:

“Though I flatter myself the world will do me the justice to believe that, at my time of life and in my circumstances, nothing but a conviction of duty could have induced me to depart from my resolution of remaining in retirement, yet I greatly apprehend that my countrymen will expect too much from me.... So much is expected, so many untoward circumstances may intervene, in such a new and critical situation, that I feel an insuperable diffidence in my own abilities. I feel, in the execution of the duties of my arduous office, how much I shall stand in need of the countenance and aid of every friend to myself, of every friend to the Revolution, and of every lover of good government.”

How nobly, ay, and how sadly, do these feelings of Washington—his humiliating sense of the great responsibility laid upon him when he assumed the office of the chief magistrate of the republic—contrast with the eager aspirations of mere politicians to sit in the seat of that illustrious and conscientious man! How the spectacle illustrates the words of the poet:—

“Fools rush in where angels fear to tread!”

FOOTNOTES:

[11] “The first number of the Federalist,” says J. C. Hamilton in his History of the Republic of the United States, “was written by Hamilton, in the cabin of a sloop, as he was descending the Hudson, and was published on the 27th of October, 1787. After the publication of the seventh, it was announced: 'In order that the whole subject of the papers may be as soon as possible laid before the public, it is proposed to publish them four times a week.'" It was originally intended to comprise the series within twenty, or at most twenty-five numbers, but they extended to eighty-five. Of these Hamilton wrote sixty-five.

Concerning these papers, Washington wrote to Hamilton, at the close of August, 1788: “I have read every performance which has been printed on one side and the other of the great question lately agitated, so far as I have been able to obtain them; and, without an unmeaning compliment, I will say, that I have seen no other [than the Federalist] so well calculated, in my judgment, to produce conviction in an unbiassed mind, as the production of your triumvirate. When the transient circumstances and fugitive performances which attended this crisis shall have disappeared, that work will merit the notice of posterity, because in it are candidly and ably discussed the principles of freedom and the topics of government, which will be always interesting to mankind, so long as they shall be connected in civil society.”

[12] The several states ratified the constitution in the following order:—

Delaware, December 7, 1787; Pennsylvania, December 12, 1787; New Jersey, December 18, 1787; Georgia, January 2, 1788; Connecticut, January 9, 1788; Massachusetts, February 6, 1788; Maryland, April 28, 1788; South Carolina, May 23, 1788; New Hampshire, June 21, 1788; Virginia, June 26, 1788; New York, July 26, 1788; North Carolina, November 21, 1788; Rhode Island, May 29, 1790.

[13] Custis's Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington, page 145.

CHAPTER VIII.

TOP

the inauguration of washington as first president of the united states—new york crowded with strangers—proceedings on the morning of the inauguration—divine services in the churches—military procession formed—washington escorted to the federal hall—the inaugural ceremonies—chancellor livingston—acclamations of the people—the president's inaugural address—services in st. paul's church—responses of congress to the inaugural address—washington's replies—general view of public affairs—the vast labors before the president—his counsellors.

Thursday, the thirtieth of April, was the appointed day for Washington to take the oath of office. For almost a fortnight, strangers from every part of the Union had been making their way to New York to participate in the inaugural ceremonies; and every place of public entertainment, and many private houses, were filled to overflowing. “We shall remain here,” wrote a young lady from Philadelphia to her friend, “even if we have to sleep in tents, as so many will have to do. Mr. Williamson had promised to engage us rooms at Fraunces's, but that was jammed long ago, as was every other decent public house; and now, while we are waiting at Mr. Vandervoort's, in Maiden Lane, till after dinner, two of our beaux are running about town, determined to obtain the best places for us to stay at, which can be opened for love, money, or the most persuasive speeches.”[14]

At dawn on the morning of the thirtieth, Colonel Bauman's artillery fired a national salute at the Bowling Green, and very soon afterward the streets were filled with citizens and strangers all dressed for a gala-day. At nine o'clock all the church bells of the city rang out a call for the people to assemble in their respective places of public worship, “to implore the blessings of Heaven on the nation, its favor and protection to the president, and success and acceptance to his administration:” and when the throngs left the churches, martial music enlivened the town, for the military companies were forming into grand procession to escort Washington to the Federal hall in Wall street, at the head of Broad street, where the inaugural ceremonies were to be held.

At twelve o'clock the procession, under the general command of Colonel Morgan Lewis, began to form in Cherry street before the president's house; and at half-past twelve Washington entered his carriage, accompanied by Colonel Humphreys, his aid-de-camp, and Tobias Lear, his private secretary, and proceeded to the Federal hall, escorted by a large number of the military, and followed by heads of departments, members of Congress, foreign ministers, and other distinguished citizens and strangers.

When near the Federal hall, Washington and his attendants alighted from the carriages, and were conducted by a marshall to the senate-chamber, at the door of which the president was received by Vice-President Adams (who had been inaugurated some time before) and conducted to his seat. In the presence of both houses of Congress then assembled, the vice-president, addressing Washington, said: “Sir, the senate and house of representatives of the United States are ready to attend you to take the oath required by the constitution, which will be administered by the chancellor of the state of New York.”

Washington responded: “I am ready to proceed;” when the vice-president, senators, and chancellor, led the way to the open outside gallery at the front of the hall, in full view of the vast multitude that, with upturned faces and hushed voices, filled the streets. The scene that ensued was most solemn and momentous; and the immediate actors in it felt the weight of great responsibility resting upon them.

The entrance of the president upon the balcony “was hailed by universal shouts,” says Washington Irving, who, though quite a young child, was present, and distinctly remembers the scene. “He was evidently moved by this demonstration of public affection. Advancing to the front of the balcony, he laid his hand upon his heart, bowed several times, and then retreated to an arm-chair near the table. The populace appeared to understand that the scene had overcome him, and were hushed at once into profound silence.”[15]

After a few moments Washington rose again and came forward, and stood between two of the supporting pillars of the gallery, in full view of the people. His noble and commanding form was clad in a suit of fine, dark-brown cloth, manufactured in Hartford, Connecticut. At his side was a steel-hilted dress-sword. He wore white silk stockings and plain silver shoe-buckles, and his hair was dressed in the fashion of the time and uncovered. On one side of him stood Chancellor Livingston, who had come out of the Revolution with his soul filled with intense love for his country, and who was one of the most effective orators of his day. “His acknowledged integrity and patriotism,” says Doctor Francis, “doubtless added force to all he uttered. Franklin termed him the American Cicero; and in him were united all those qualities which, according to that illustrious Roman, are necessary in the perfect orator.”[16] He was dressed in a fall suit of black cloth, and wore the robe of office. On the other side was the vice-president, in a claret-colored suit, of American manufacture. Between the president and the chancellor was Mr. Otis, the secretary of state. He was a small man, dressed with scrupulous neatness, and held in his hand an open Bible upon a rich crimson cushion. Near this most conspicuous group stood Roger Sherman, Richard Henry Lee, Alexander Hamilton, Generals Knox and St. Clair, the Baron Steuben, and other distinguished men.

Chancellor Livingston administered the oath with slow and distinct enunciation, while Washington's hand was laid upon the Bible held by Mr. Otis. When it was concluded, the president said, in a distinct voice, “I swear.” He then bowed his head, kissed the sacred volume, and as he assumed an erect posture, he with closed eyes said, with solemn supplicating tone, “So help me God!”

“It is done!” said the chancellor; and, turning to the multitude, he waved his hand, and shouted: “Long live George Washington, president of the United States!” The exclamation was echoed and re-echoed, long and loud, by the people. “The scene,” wrote an eye-witness, “was solemn and awful beyond description.... The circumstances of the president's election, the impression of his past services, the concourse of spectators, the devout fervency with which he repeated the oath, and the reverential manner in which he bowed down and kissed the sacred volume—all these conspired to render it one of the most august and interesting spectacles ever exhibited.” It seemed, from the number of witnesses, to be a solemn appeal to Heaven and earth at once.

At the close of the ceremonies, Washington bowed to the people and retired to the senate chamber, where he read his inaugural address to both houses of Congress there assembled. It was short, direct, and comprehensive. He alluded in a most touching manner to the circumstances which placed him in the position he then held. “On the one hand,” he said, “I was summoned by my country, whose voice I can never hear but with veneration and love, from a retreat which I had chosen with the fondest predilection, and, in my flattering hopes, with an immutable decision, as the asylum of my declining years.... On the other hand, the magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my country called me, being sufficient to awaken in the wisest and most experienced of her citizens a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifications, could not but overwhelm with despondence one who, inheriting inferior endowments from nature, and unpractised in the duties of civil administration, ought to be peculiarly conscious of his own deficiencies. In this conflict of emotions, all I dare aver is, that it has been my faithful study to collect my duty from a just appreciation of every circumstance by which it might be affected.”

He expressed his devout gratitude to God for his providential watchfulness over the affairs of his country; declined the exercise of his constitutional duty of recommending measures for the consideration of Congress, not being yet acquainted with the exact state of public affairs, yet called their attention to necessary amendments of the constitution; and concluded by saying:—

“When I was first honored with a call into the service of my country, then on the eve of an arduous struggle for its liberties, the light in which I contemplated my duty required that I should renounce every pecuniary compensation. From this resolution I have in no instance departed; and being still under the impressions that produced it, I must decline, as inapplicable to myself, any share in the personal emoluments which may be indispensably included in a permanent provision for the executive department, and must accordingly pray that the pecuniary estimates for the station in which I am placed may, during my continuance in it, be limited to such actual expenditures as the public good may be thought to require.” To this expression of his disinterested patriotism he added a renewal of grateful acknowledgments to the Father of all, and supplication for further aid, protection, and guidance.

When the delivery of the inaugural address was ended, the president, with the members of both houses of Congress, proceeded to St. Paul's church (where the vestry had provided a pew for his use), and joined in suitable prayers which were offered by Dr. Provost, the lately-ordained bishop of the Protestant Episcopal church in the diocese of New York, and who had been appointed chaplain to the senate. From the church Washington retired to his residence, under the conduct of a committee appointed for that purpose. The people spent the remainder of the day in festal enjoyments, and closed it with fireworks, bonfires, and illuminations.

When the two houses of Congress reassembled, each appointed a committee to prepare a response to the president's inaugural address. Mr. Madison prepared that of the representatives, and it was presented on the eighth of May, in a private room of the Federal hall. “You have long held the first place in the esteem of the American people,” they said; “you have often received tokens of affection; you now possess the only proof that remained of their gratitude for your services, of their reverence for your wisdom, and of their confidence in your virtues; you enjoy the highest, because the truest, honor of being the first magistrate, by the unanimous choice of the freest people on the face of the earth.

“We well know the anxieties with which you have obeyed a summons, from the repose reserved for your declining years, into public scenes, of which you had taken your leave for ever. But the obedience was due to the occasion. It is already applauded by the universal joy which welcomes you to your station; and we can not doubt that it will be rewarded with all the satisfaction with which an ardent love for your fellow-citizens must review successful efforts to promote their happiness.”

After referring to his declaration concerning pecuniary emoluments for his services, they concluded by saying: “All that remains is, that we join in our fervent supplications for the blessings of Heaven on our country, and that we add our own for the choicest of these blessings on the most beloved of her citizens.”

On the eighteenth of May, the entire senate waited upon the president at his own house, to present their response. After congratulating him on the complete organization of the federal government, they said:—

“We are sensible, sir, that nothing but the voice of your fellow-citizens could have called you from a retreat chosen with the fondest predilections, endeared by habit, and consecrated to the repose of declining years: we rejoice, and with us all America, that, in obedience to the call of our common country, you have returned once more to public life. In you all parties confide, in you all interests unite; and we have no doubt that your past services, great as they have been, will be equalled by your future exertions, and that your prudence and sagacity as a statesman will tend to avert the dangers to which we were exposed, to give stability to the present government, and dignity and splendor to that country which your skill and valor, as a soldier, so eminently contributed to raise to independence.”

To this Washington replied: “The coincidence of circumstances which led to this auspicious crisis, the confidence reposed in me by my fellow-citizens, and the assistance I may expect from counsels which will he dictated by an enlarged and liberal policy, seem to presage a more prosperous issue to my administration than a diffidence of my abilities had taught me to anticipate, I now feel myself inexpressibly happy in a belief that Heaven, which has done so much for our infant nation, will not withdraw its providential influence before our political felicity shall have been completed; and in a conviction that the senate will, at all times, co-operate in every measure which may tend to promote the welfare of this confederated republic. Thus supported by a firm trust in the Great Arbiter of the universe, aided by the collective wisdom of the Union, and imploring the Divine benediction in our joint exertions in the service of our country, I readily engage with you in the arduous but pleasing task of attempting to make a nation happy.”

It was indeed an arduous task, especially for conscientious men like Washington and his compatriots. The circumstances of the country and the temper of the people demanded the exercise of great wisdom and discretion in trying the experiment of a new form of government, concerning which there was yet a great diversity of sentiment. Doubts, fears, suspicions, jealousies, downright opposition, were all to be encountered. The late conflict of opinions had left many wounds. A large proportion of them were partially healed, others wholly so; but deep scars remained to remind the recipients of the turmoil, and the causes which incited it. Although eleven states had ratified the constitution, yet only three (New York, Delaware, and Georgia) had accepted it by unanimous consent. In others it was ratified by meagre majorities. North Carolina hesitated, and Rhode Island had refused to act upon the matter. The state-rights feeling was still very strong in most of the local legislatures, and many true friends of the constitution doubted whether the general government would have sufficient power to control the actions of the individual states. The great experiment was to be tried by the representatives of the nation while listening to the sad lessons derived from the history of all past republics, and beneath the scrutiny of an active, restless, intelligent, high-spirited people, who were too fond of liberty to brook any great resistance to their inclinations, especially if they seemed to be coincident with the spirit of the Revolution.

The republic to be governed was spread over a vast territory, with an ocean front of fifteen hundred miles, and an inland frontier of three times that extent. Cultivation and permanent settlements formed but a sea-selvedge of this domain; for beyond the Alleghanies but comparatively few footsteps of civilized man had yet trodden. In the valleys of the Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee, empires were budding; but where half the states of the Union now flourish the solitude of the wilderness yet reigned supreme.

Could the regions beyond the Alleghanies have remained so, there would have been less cause for anxiety; but over those barriers a flood of emigration had begun to flow, broad and resistless; and during the first years of Washington's administration those wilds became populated with a hardy race, who found upon the bosom of the Mississippi a grand highway for carrying the products of their fertile soil to the markets of the world.

That great river was controlled by the Spaniards seated at its mouth, who, in traditions, race, and aspirations, had no affinity with the people of the new republic. They sat there as a barrier between the settlers and the sea; and even before Washington left his home on the Potomac, conflicting rumors had reached him respecting the impatience of the western settlers because of that barrier. They had urged the Congress of the Confederation to open it by treaty, but that Congress was too feeble to comply. Now one tongue of rumor said that they would soon organize an expedition to capture New Orleans; another tongue asserted that the Spaniards, aided by British emissaries, were intriguing with leading men in the great valleys to effect a separation of the Union, and an attachment of the western portion to the crown of Spain. These things gave Washington and his co-workers great uneasiness.

Another cause for anxiety was the refusal of Great Britain to give up some of the frontier forts, in compliance with an article of the definitive treaty of peace of 1783, on the plea that the United States had violated another article of the same treaty in allowing the debts due to British subjects, which had been contracted before the war, to remain unpaid. This was regarded by the Americans as a mere pretext to cover a more important interest, namely, the monopoly of the fur-trade with the Indians. It was alleged, also, that the hostile attitude toward the United States then lately assumed by several of the western tribes was caused by the mischievous influence of the British officers who held those posts, and their emissaries among the savages.

At the same time, the finances of the country were in a most deplorable state. A heavy domestic and foreign debt presented importunate creditors at the door of government; the treasury was empty; public credit was utterly prostrated, and every effort of the late government to fund the public debt had failed.

The foreign commerce of the country, owing to the feebleness of the Confederation, was in a most unsatisfactory condition. The conduct of the British government in relation to trade with the United States had been, since the conclusion of the war, not only ungenerous, but insolent and oppressive; and at the same time, the corsairs of the Barbary powers on the southern shores of the Mediterranean sea, whose princes were fattening upon the spoils of piracy, were marauding upon American merchant-vessels with impunity, and carrying the crews into slavery.

The younger Pitt, in 1783, had proposed a scheme in the British parliament for the temporary regulation of commercial intercourse with the United States, the chief feature of which was the free admission into the West India ports of American vessels laden with the products of American industry; the West India people to be allowed, in turn, like free trade with the United States. But the ideas of the old and unwise navigation laws, out of which had grown the most serious dispute between the colonies and the mother-country twenty-five years before, yet prevailed in the British legislature. Pitts's proposition was rejected; and an order soon went forth from the privy council for the entire exclusion of American vessels from West India ports, and prohibiting the importation thither of the several products of the United States, even in British bottoms.

Notwithstanding this unwise and narrow policy was put in force, Mr. Adams, the American minister at the court of St. James, proposed, in 1785, to place the navigation and trade between all the dominions of the British crown and all the territories of the United States upon a basis of perfect reciprocity. This generous offer was not only declined, but the minister was haughtily assured that no other would be entertained. Mr. Adams immediately recommended his government to pass navigation acts for the benefit of its commerce; but the Confederation had not power or vitality sufficient to take action. Some of the states attempted to legislate upon commercial matters, and the subject of duties for revenue; but their efforts were fruitless, except in discovering the necessity of a strong central power, and putting in motion causes which led to the formation of the federal government.

The earliest efforts of the new government, as we shall perceive presently, were directed to the maturing of schemes for imposing discriminating duties; and the eyes of British legislators were soon opened to the fact that American commerce was no longer at the mercy of thirteen distinct legislative bodies, nor subject to foreign control. They perceived the importance of the American trade, and of a reciprocity in trade between the two countries. They perceived, also, that the interests of American commerce were guarded and its strength nurtured by a central power of great energy; and very soon a committee of parliament submitted a proposition, asking the United States to consent to a commercial arrangement precisely such as had been offered by Mr. Adams a few years before, and rejected with disdain.

Thus we perceive that, at the very outset, subjects of vast interest connected with domestic and foreign affairs—the preservation of the Union, the allaying of discontents, the liquidation of the public debt, the replenishment of the treasury, the integrity of treaties, the conciliation of hostile Indian tribes, the regulation and protection of commerce, the encouragement of trade, the creation of a revenue, the establishment of an independent national character, and the founding of a wise policy for the government—presented themselves in stern array to the mind of Washington, and almost overwhelmed him, by the magnitude of their proportions, with a sense of his impotence in giving general direction to the vast labors to be performed. He had few precedents as an executive officer to guide him, and no experience as the chief of civil affairs. “I walk, as it were, upon untrodden ground,” he said; but, like a wise man, he asked counsel of those upon whose judgment he could rely.

At that moment the president was without constitutional advisers. Executive departments had not yet been organized; but in John Jay as secretary for foreign affairs, in General Knox as secretary of war, in Samuel Osgood, Walter Livingston, and Arther Lee, as controllers of the treasury—all of whom had been appointed by the old Congress—he found men of large experience, enlightened views, sturdy integrity, and sound judgment. With these, and Madison and Hamilton, Sherman and Chancellor Livingston, and other personal friends, Washington commenced with courage the great task before him.

FOOTNOTES:

[14] Griswold's Republican Court, page 137.

[15] Life of Washington, iv. 513.

[16] Address before the Philolexian Society of Columbia College, 1831.

CHAPTER IX.

TOP

washington's novel position—the spirit of the people—appearance of the democratic element in society—the question of a title for the president discussed in congress—the result—discretion necessary—washington asks advice concerning ceremonials—responses—washington's arrangement for visits of ceremony—jealousy of the people—silly stories concerning the pomp of the president and vice-president—customs of the levees established—grand balls—mrs. washington's journey to new york—her reception—her drawing-rooms—washington's habits of living.

Washington's position was a novel one in every particular. He was the chosen head of a people who had just abolished royal government with all its pomp and parade, its titles and class immunities, but who were too refined, and too conscious of their real social and political strength as a basis for a great nation, to be willing to trample upon all deferential forms and ceremonies that might give proper dignity to, and respect for deserving rulers, without implying servility.

In the convention that framed the constitution, the representatives of the people exhibited this conservative feeling in a remarkable degree; and the extreme democratic sentiment, such as afterward sympathized with the radicals of the French revolution, was yet only a fledgling, but destined to grow rapidly, and to fly with swift wing over the land. Yet the spirit was manifest, and its coalescence with the state-rights feeling made circumspection in the arrangement of the ceremonials connected with the president and his household extremely necessary.

Already the question of a title for the president had been discussed in Congress, and had produced a great deal of excitement in different quarters. The subject appears to have been suggested by Mr. Adams, the vice-president; and on the twenty-third of April the senate appointed Richard Henry Lee, Ralph Izard, and Tristram Dalton, a committee “to consider and report what style or titles it will be proper to annex to the offices of president and vice-president of the United States.” On the following day the house of representatives appointed a committee to confer with that of the senate, and the joint committee reported that it was “improper to annex any style or title to the respective styles or titles of office expressed in the constitution.”

The house adopted the report by unanimous vote, but the senate did not concur. The question then arose in the senate whether the president should not be addressed by the title of His Excellency, and the subject was referred to a new committee, of which Mr. Lee was chairman. A proposition in the house to appoint a committee to confer with the new senate committee elicited a warm debate. The senate committee, meanwhile, reported in favor of the title of His Highness the President of the United States of America, and Protector of their Liberties; but they did not press the matter, as the inauguration had taken place in the meantime, and the house had addressed the chief magistrate, in reply to his inaugural address, simply as President of the United States. With a view to preserve harmonious action, the senate determined to address him in the same way; at the same time resolving that, “from a decent respect for the opinion and practice of civilized nations, whether under monarchical or republican forms of government, whose custom is to annex titles of respectability to the office of their chief magistrate, and that, in intercourse with foreign nations, a due respect for the majesty of the people of the United States may not be hazarded by an appearance of singularity, the senate have been induced to be of opinion that it would be proper to annex a respectable title to the office of the president of the United States.”

This was the last action in Congress upon the subject, but it was discussed in the newspapers for some time afterward. The excitement upon the subject ran high in some places for a while, and Mr. Lee and Mr. Adams, the reputed authors of the proposition, were quite unpopular. It gave Washington, who was averse to all titles, much uneasiness, lest, he said, it should be supposed by some, unacquainted with the facts, that the object they had in view was not displeasing to him. “The truth is,” he said, “the question was moved before I arrived, without any privity or knowledge of it on my part, and urged, after I was apprized of it, contrary to my opinion; for I foresaw and predicted the reception it has met with, and the use that would be made of it by the adversaries of the government. Happily this matter is now done with, I hope never to be revived.”

The effect of this movement upon the public mind gave Washington a perception of the necessity of great circumspection in the arrangement of ceremonials, to which allusion has just been made. He also perceived the greater necessity of so regulating his personal matters as to secure the most time for attention to public business; for, immediately after his inauguration, he found that he was master neither of himself nor his home. “By the time I had done breakfast,” he wrote to Dr. Stuart, “and thence till dinner, and afterward till bed-time, I could not get rid of the ceremony of one visit before I had to attend to another. In a word, I held no leisure to read or to answer the despatches that were pouring in upon me from all quarters.”

As usual, Washington sought the advice of those in whom he had confidence. To Vice-President Adams, Jay, Hamilton, and Madison, he addressed a series of nine questions, and desired them to reflect upon and answer them. These all had reference to his intercourse with the public: whether a line of conduct equally distant from an association with all kinds of company on the one hand, and from a total seclusion from society on the other, would be proper; how such a system should best be made known to the public; whether one day in every week would not be sufficient to devote to visits of compliment; whether he should receive direct applications from those having business with him, setting apart a certain hour every morning; whether the customs of the presidents of the old Congress, in giving large dinner-parties to both sexes twice a-week, ought not to be abolished, and invitations to dine at the president's house, informal or otherwise, be limited, in regard to persons, to six, eight, or ten official characters, including in rotation the members of both houses of Congress, on days fixed for receiving company; whether the public would be satisfied if he should give four great entertainments in a year, on such occasions as the anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, the alliance with France, the peace with Great Britain, and the organization of the general government; whether the president should make and receive informal visits from friends and acquaintances, for purposes of sociability and civility, and, if so, in what way they should be made so as not to be construed into visits from the president of the United States; and finally, whether it might not be advantageous for the president to make a tour through the United States during the recess of Congress, in order to become better acquainted with the people, and the circumstances and resources of the country.

“The president,” he said at the close of his queries, “in all matters of business and etiquette, can have no object but to demean himself in his public character in such a manner as to maintain the dignity of his office, without subjecting himself to the imputation of superciliousness or unnecessary reserve.”

To these queries the gentlemen addressed promptly responded in writing. The vice-president, who, as minister abroad, had seen much of royal etiquette, and become somewhat fascinated, as Jefferson said, “by the glare of royalty and nobility,” spoke of chamberlains, aides-de-camp, and masters of ceremonies; for he regarded the presidential office “equal to any in the world.” “The royal office in Poland,” he said, “is a mere shadow in comparison with it;” and he thought that “if the state and pomp essential to that great department were not in a good degree preserved, it would be in vain for America to hope for consideration with foreign powers.” He thought it would be necessary to devote two days each week to the reception of complimentary visits; that application to a minister of state should be made by those who desired an interview with the president; and in every case the character and business of the visitor should be communicated to the chamberlain or gentleman in waiting, who should judge whom to admit and whom to exclude. He thought the time for receiving visits should be limited to one hour each day; that the president might informally invite small parties of official characters and strangers of distinction to dine with him, without exciting public clamor; and that he might, as a private gentleman, make and receive visits; but in his official character, he should have no other intercourse with society than such as pertained to public business.

Hamilton desired the dignity of the presidential office to be well sustained, but intimated that care would be necessary “to avoid extensive disgust or discontent.” Although men's minds were prepared, he said, for a “pretty high tone in the demeanor of the executive,” he doubted whether so high as might be desirable would be tolerated, for the notions of equality were too strong to admit of a great distance being placed between the president and other branches of the government. He advised a public levée of half an hour once a-week; that formal entertainments should be given, at most, four times a year, on the days mentioned by Washington; that informal invitations to family dinners might be given to official characters; that heads of departments, foreign ministers of some descriptions, and senators, should alone have direct access to the person of the president, and only in matters pertaining to the public business.

The opinions of his friends so nearly coinciding with that of his own, Washington proceeded to act upon them, but with a wise discretion. He had already adopted the plan of designating certain times for visits of compliment, and he gave a public intimation that these would be on Tuesday and Friday of each week, between the hours of two and three o'clock. On these occasions there was no ostentatious display. On the contrary, the president received his visitors in a simple manner; conversed with them freely after introduction, if opportunities were afforded; and in every respect, while maintaining perfect dignity, he made all feel that he was their fellow-citizen.

“These visits are optional,” he said in a letter to Dr. Stuart; “they are made without invitation.... Gentlemen, often in great numbers, come and go, chat with each other, and act as they please. A porter shows them into the room, and they retire from it when they choose, without ceremony. At their first entrance they salute me, and I them, and as many as I can, I talk to. What 'pomp' there is in all this I am unable to discover.”

The last clause refers to a sentence in Dr. Stuart's letter, in which he spoke of public clamors, in some places in Virginia, originating generally with the opponents of the constitution and the government organized under it, on account of alleged practices on the part of the president and vice-president, which were regarded as monarchical in their tendency. An untrue report was circulated that the vice-president (who, it must be confessed, was quite high in his notions) never appeared publicly except with a coach and six horses! It created much excitement in Virginia, and the opponents of the government made much use of it.

The levees of the president were cited as examples of the rapid growth of aristocracy. Among other stories, it was alleged that at the first levee an ante-chamber and presence-room were provided in the presidential mansion; and that, when those who were to pay court were assembled, the president, preceded by Colonel Humphreys as herald, passed through the ante-chamber to the door of the inner room. This was first entered, according to the untruthful account, by Humphreys, who called out, with a loud voice, “The president of the United States!”

Another silly story went abroad, that at the ball given in honor of the president, soon after his inauguration, he and Mrs. Washington were seated in state upon a raised sofa at the head of the room; that each gentleman, when going to dance, led his partner to the foot of the sofa and made a low bow, and that when the dance was over, he again took his partner to make obeisance to the president and his lady before they retired to their chairs!

The subject of etiquette in the president's home, and in his intercourse with the public at large, was of far more consequence, under the circumstances, than might appear at first thought. It seems to have been left chiefly to Colonel Humphreys, who had lately been Jefferson's secretary of legation in Paris, to arrange the whole matter; yet several months elapsed before Washington felt that he was treading upon sure ground. As late as November, he made the following entry in his diary: “Received an Invitation to attend the funeral of Mrs. Roosevelt (the wife of a senator of this state), but declined complying with it—first, because the propriety of accepting any invitation of this sort appeared very questionable; and, secondly (though to do it in this instance might not be improper), because it might be difficult to discriminate in cases which might thereafter happen.”

The customs established during Washington's administration concerning levees, the president not returning visits, et cetera, have ever since prevailed, and the chief magistrate of the republic is never seen in the position of a private citizen.

We have alluded to the ball given in honor of Washington after his inauguration. It was a brilliant affair, and surpassed anything of the kind ever before seen in New York. Preparations had been made by the managers of the city assemblies to have the ball on the evening of the inauguration day; but, hearing that Mrs. Washington could not accompany her husband, it was postponed. The time when she would arrive being uncertain, the ball was given a week afterward. It was attended by the president and vice-president, a large majority of the members of both houses of Congress, the governor and other New York state officers, foreign ministers, many military characters, and a large number of distinguished citizens. “The collection of ladies,” wrote one who was present, “was numerous and brilliant, and they were dressed with consummate taste and elegance.”

“On this occasion,” says Griswold, “an agreeable surprise was prepared by the managers for every woman who attended. A sufficient number of fans had been made for the purpose in Paris, the ivory frames of which displayed, as they were opened, between the hinges and the elegant paper covering, an extremely well-executed medallion portrait of Washington in profile, and a page was appointed to present one, with the compliments of the managers, as each couple passed the receiver of the tickets.”[17]

On the evening of the fourteenth of May, the Count de Moustier, the French minister, gave a splendid ball in honor of the president, at his residence in M'Comb's house, in Broadway, afterward occupied by Washington as the presidential mansion. The whole arrangement was directed by his sister, the Marchioness de Brienne, who was an amateur artist of considerable distinction. “I heard the marchioness declare,” wrote a lady who was present, “she had exhausted every resource to produce an entertainment worthy of France.”

Mrs. Washington did not leave Mount Vernon until Tuesday, the nineteenth of May, when she set out for New York in her travelling carriage, drawn by four horses, accompanied by her two grandchildren, Eleanor Parke and George Washington Parke Custis, and a small escort of horse. She was everywhere greeted with demonstrations of the greatest affection. When she approached Baltimore she was met by a cavalcade of citizens. In the evening, fireworks were discharged in honor of the fair guest, and a band of musicians serenaded her. When she approached Philadelphia she was met by the president of the commonwealth, the speaker of the assembly, two troops of dragoons, and a large number of citizens, who escorted her toward the Schuylkill. Seven miles from Philadelphia she was met by a large company of women in carriages, who formed an escort, and at Gray's ferry all partook of a collation. There Mrs. Robert Morris joined Mrs. Washington in her carriage, and as the procession entered the city the bells rang out a merry peal, and cannon thundered a cordial welcome.

Mrs. Washington remained in Philadelphia, a guest of Mrs. Morris, until Monday morning, when she set out for New York, accompanied by that lady. All through New Jersey she received the most affectionate attentions, and at Elizabethtown was the guest of Governor Livingston. At Elizabethtown Point she was met by her husband, who, attended by Robert Morris and other distinguished men, had come from New York in his splendid barge to receive her. As they approached the city they were saluted by thirteen discharges of cannon, and were followed to their residence by a crowd of the citizens.

On the day after Mrs. Washington's arrival, the president invited a few official characters to a family dinner. No clergyman being present, Washington himself asked a blessing before the company took their seat at table. The dinner was simple, and no special etiquette was observed on that occasion. A single glass of wine was offered to each guest, with the toast which Washington invariably gave on such occasions—“To all our friends;” and when it was drunk, the president arose, led the way to the drawing-room, and each one departed when he pleased, without ceremony. Such continued to be the simple hospitality of President Washington's table.

On the evening of the twenty-eighth, two days after her arrival, Mrs. Washington held her first levee, or drawing-room. It was attended by nearly all of the leading characters in social and political life then in the federal metropolis. “There was no place for the intrusion of the rabble in crowds, or for the mere coarse and boisterous partisan,” says Colonel Stone in some remarks upon these receptions. “There was no place for the vulgar electioneerer or impudent place-hunter. On the contrary, they were select, and more courtly than have been given by any of Washington's successors. Proud of her husband's exalted fame, and jealous of the honors due, not only to his own lofty character, but to the dignified station to which a grateful country had called him, Mrs. Washington was careful, in her drawing-rooms, to exact those courtesies to which she knew he was entitled, as well on account of personal merit as of official consideration. None, therefore, were admitted to the levees but those who had either a right by official station to be there, or were entitled to the privilege by established merit and character.”

Mrs. Washington's receptions were on Friday evenings, and were always closed at precisely nine o'clock. Notwithstanding the entire absence of all pomp or parade on these occasions, cavilers spoke of them sometimes in ill-natured and offensive terms, as “court levees” and “queenly drawing-rooms.”[18]

Washington always held the Sabbath-day sacred to worship and repose, and no visitors were received by him on that day. Sometimes an intimate acquaintance would spend the evening with him. He usually attended public worship with his family in the morning, and in the afternoon he retired to study, to read, to meditate, or to write private letters.

In public as in private life, he was temperate in all things, and frugal in his household expenses. He employed the celebrated tavern-keeper, Samuel Fraunces (whose daughter, it will be remembered, once saved Washington's life by revealing the murderous intentions of one of his life-guard) as his steward. Everything was governed by a well-regulated economy, which had a most salutary effect in restraining extravagant living, toward which New York society had then a strong tendency. The president's example in that particular was powerful.

Washington preserved, in his movements, a certain degree of state, not offensive to the well-informed or right-minded. He had a fine coach, and, as at Mount Vernon, he kept superb horses, six of which, on some few occasions, were driven at one time before his carriage. The family carriage was generally drawn by four horses, when rides were taken in the country for exercise, with “Mrs. Washington and the children.” His servants usually wore livery, and he sometimes was accompanied by outriders. Such was the state in which many wealthy gentlemen moved at that day, especially in Virginia; and none knew better than those who made these things an occasion to revile the new government, that nothing was further from the mind and heart of Washington, in the practice of these customs, than a desire for ostentatious display.

FOOTNOTES:

[17] Griswold's Republican Court, page 156.

[18] The late Mr. Custis, Mrs. Washington's grandson, giving an account of these receptions at the presidential mansion in Philadelphia, says:—

“When Mrs. Washington received company it was on Friday, commencing about seven, and ending about nine o'clock. Two rooms were thrown open. The furniture that was thought handsome in those days would be considered barely decent in modern times. The principal ornament was a glass chandelier in the largest room, burning wax lights. The chair of the lady of the president was a plain arm-chair lined with green morocco leather.

“The ladies visiting the drawing-room were always attended by gentlemen. It was not the habit for very young girls to be present at the drawing-room, but only those of the age when it is proper for ladies to go into company. Upon the ladies being introduced they were seated, and the president, who always attended the drawing-room, passed round the circle, paying his respects to each in succession; and it was a common remark, among the chit-chat of the drawing-room, that the chief was no inconsiderable judge of female beauty, since he was observed to tarry longer than usual when paying his compliments to Miss Sophia Chew, a charming belle of Philadelphia in that time.

“Refreshments were handed round by servants in livery; and about that period first appeared the luxury, now so universal, of ice-cream. Introductions to eminent personages and conversation formed the entertainments of the drawing-room. Cards were altogether unknown.

“But the leading and most imposing feature of the drawing-room was the men of mark, the 'Revolutionaries,' both civil and military, who were to be seen there. The old officers delighted to pay their respects to the wife of Washington, and to call up the reminiscences of the headquarters, and of the 'times that tried men's souls.' These glorious old chevaliers were the greatest beaux of the age, and the recollections of their gallant achievements, together with their elegant manners, made them acceptable to the ladies everywhere. They formed the élite of the drawing-room. General Wayne—the renowned 'Mad Anthony'—with his aides-de-camp, Lewis and De Butts, frequently attended, with Mifflin, Walter Stewart, Colonel Hartley, and many others. Indeed, there was often to be met with at the mansion of the first president an assemblage of intellect and honor, public virtue and private worth, exalted merit and illustrious services, such as the world will never see again.”

CHAPTER X.

TOP

washington begins his official labors—the foreign and domestic relations of the united states—dangerous illness of the president—public anxiety and his own calmness—slow convalescence—death of washington's mother—proceedings in congress in reference to revenue, the judiciary and executive departments—debates concerning the appointing power—amendments of the constitution—establishment of the judiciary—washington's appointment of cabinet and judicial officers—adjournment of congress—thanksgiving-day appointed.

With a most earnest desire to be a faithful public servant, Washington commenced his labors as soon as possible after the inauguration. His first care was to make himself acquainted with the exact condition of his country; and for that purpose he personally inspected all of the most important official documents issued since the establishment of the Confederacy, and called, unofficially, upon the heads of the several departments to report, in writing, the condition of things connected with the operations of their respective bureaux. In this pursuit he labored almost incessantly, examining with care the archives of the departments, making notes of important foreign correspondence, and collating his garnered facts so as to make them most convenient for use.

The foreign relations of the United States were, on the whole, satisfactory. With the exception of England, the feeling of the European powers toward the new republic was friendly. The resentments caused by the long war with the mother-country were blunted, but by no means deprived of their strength; and the fact that the British government still held possession of western posts, in violation of treaty stipulations, to which allusion has already been made, was a cause of much irritation on the part of the Americans. And this was increased, as we have observed, by the supposed malign influence of British officers over the tribes of Indians between the lakes and the Ohio and Mississippi rivers, whose military strength was computed at five thousand warriors, one third of whom were, at the time in question, standing in open hostility to the United States. In the far southwest, the powerful Creeks, six thousand strong, were at war with Georgia, while the entire regular force of the United States did not exceed six hundred men.

We have already alluded to the relative position of the Spaniards in the southwest, and their disposition to exclude the Americans from the navigation of the southern Mississippi to its mouth. An attempt to open that navigation by treaty had failed; and there was an almost undefinable boundary-line between the Spanish possessions and those of the United States, about which a dispute had arisen that threatened unpleasant relations with Spain.

France, the old ally of the new republic, was still friendly; but its government was then shaken by a terrible revolution just commenced, in which Lafayette took a conspicuous part. Of this we shall speak hereafter.

Up to the time in question, the representatives of France in America had exhibited the most friendly disposition. Count de Moustier, the successor of the Chevalier de Luzerne, was assiduous in his attentions; and Washington had scarcely commenced the exercise of his executive functions, before that embassador, who had been more than a year in the country, sought a private interview with him, preparatory, as he said, to diplomatic negotiations concerning the commerce between the two nations. He was anxious to secure for his country superior advantages in commercial arrangements, and seemed to feel that France, as an ally, was entitled to more consideration than other nations. Washington reciprocated his expressions of friendship, gave him assurance of the most friendly feeling toward France on the part of the people and government of the United States; but, with a wise caution, did not commit himself to any future policy in regard to commercial or other intercourse with the nations of Europe.

While zealously engaged in his public duties, Washington was prostrated by violent disease, in the form of malignant anthrax or carbuncle boil upon his thigh, and for several days his life was seriously jeoparded. Fortunately for himself and the republic, there was a physician at hand, in the person of Doctor Samuel Bard, by whose well-directed skill his life was spared. While the malady was approaching its crisis, Doctor Bard never left his patient, but watched the progress of the disease with the greatest anxiety. On one occasion, when they were alone in the room, Washington, looking earnestly in the doctor's face, said: “Do not flatter me with vain hopes; I am not afraid to die, and therefore can bear the worst.” Bard replied with an expression of hope, but with an acknowledgment of apprehension. To this the president calmly answered: “Whether to-night or twenty years hence makes no difference—I know that I am in the hands of a good Providence.”

While Washington was so calm under his severe affliction—for his sufferings were intense—the public mind was greatly agitated upon the subject of his illness; for momentous interests were suspended upon the result of the disease. Every hour, anxious inquiries were made at the presidential mansion. People listened with the most intense concern to every word that was passed from the lips of the physician to the public ear; and there was a sense of great relief when his convalescence was announced. But his recovery was very slow. On the twenty-eighth of July he was enabled for the first to receive a few visits of compliment, notwithstanding he had considered his health as restored three weeks earlier. “But,” he wrote to Mr. M'Henry, “a feebleness still hangs upon me, and I am much incommoded by the incision which was made in a very large and painful tumor on the protuberance of my thigh. This prevents me from walking or sitting. However, the physician assures me it has had a happy effect in removing my fever, and will tend very much to the establishment of my general health.” As late as the eighth of September he wrote to Doctor Craik, saying:

“Though now freed from pain, the wound given by the incision is not yet healed.”

Before he had fairly recovered, the president heard of the death of his mother, who expired at Fredericksburg, on the twenty-fifth of August, at the age of little more than eighty-two years, forty-six of which she had passed in widowhood. The event was touchingly alluded to in the pulpits of New York; and at the first public levees of the president, after her death was known, members of the two houses of Congress and other persons wore badges of mourning.

When Washington had fully recovered, he resumed his labors for the public good with the greatest ardor. The Congress had been chiefly employed, meanwhile, in framing laws necessary to the organization of the government. The most important of these, in the senate, was an act for the establishment of a judiciary, and in the house of representatives an act providing a revenue by an imposition of discriminating duties upon imports. The latter subject had received the earliest attention of the house, for, in the condition in which the new government found the national finances, it was an all-important one. Mr. Madison brought it to the attention of Congress, only two days after the inauguration, by a suggestion, in the first committee of the whole on the state of the Union, to adopt a temporary system of imposts, by which the exhausted treasury might be replenished. Upon the questions which this proposition gave birth to, long and able debates ensued, in which the actual state of the trade, commerce, and manufactures of the country were quite fully developed. From the published reports of these debates Washington collated a mass of facts which aided him much in his future labors, and in drawing conclusions concerning public measures. An act for the collection of revenue through the medium of imposts was finally passed, and the principle was recognised of discriminating duties for the protection of American manufactures. The plan then adopted became the basis of our present revenue system.

Another important question that engaged Congress during its first session was the establishment of executive departments, the heads of which should be the counsellors and assistants of the president in the management of public affairs. Hitherto these functions had been performed by those officers who had been appointed, some of them several years before, by Congress under the old Confederation. John Jay had been secretary for foreign affairs (an equivalent to secretary of state) since 1784; General Knox had been at the head of the war department since the close of 1783, when he succeeded General Lincoln; and the treasury department was still managed by a board, at that time consisting of Samuel Osgood, Walter Livingston, and Arthur Lee.

Congress established three executive departments—treasury, war, and foreign affairs (the latter afterward called department of state)—the heads of which were to be styled secretaries, instead of ministers as in Europe, and were to constitute, with the president of the United States, an executive council. In the organization of these departments, the important question arose, in what manner might the high officers who should fill them be appointed or removed? Many believed that the decision of this question would materially influence the character of the new government; and the clause in the act to “establish an executive department to be denominated the department of foreign affairs,” which declared the secretary thereof to be removable by the president, was debated with great warmth. It was contended that such a prerogative given to the president was in its character so monarchical that it would, in the nature of things, convert the heads of departments into mere tools and creatures of his will; that a dependence so servile on one individual would deter men of high and honorable minds from engaging in the public service; and that the most alarming dangers to liberty might be perceived in such prerogative. It was feared, they said, that those who advocated the bestowment of such power upon the president were too much dazzled with the splendor of the virtues which adorned the then incumbent of the office; and that they did not extend their views far enough to perceive, that an ambitious man at the head of the government might apply the prerogative to dangerous purposes, and remove the best of men from office.

The idea that a man could ever be elected by the people of the United States to the office of chief magistrate, who was so lost to a sense of right, and so indifferent to public odium, as to remove a good man from office, was treated by the opposite party as absurd; and after a discussion which lasted several days, it was decided to give the removing power to the president, the action of the senate being necessary only in the matter of appointment.

Another important matter acted upon during the first session of Congress was that of amending the constitution. It was brought to the attention of the national legislature in the president's inaugural speech; for he conceived that the amendments which had been proposed by the minorities in the several state conventions called to consider the constitution, deserved the careful consideration of those in authority, not only because of the nature of the propositions, but because such a consideration might be productive of good will toward the government, even in the minds of its opponents.

Mr. Madison brought the subject before Congress, pursuant to pledges which he found himself compelled to give in the Virginia convention in order to secure the ratification of the constitution. These amendments amounted in the aggregate to no less than one hundred and forty-seven, besides separate bills of rights proposed by Virginia and New York. Some of them, made in different states, were identical in spirit, and sometimes in form; and yet, it is worthy of remark that not one of these proposed amendments, judged by subsequent experience, was of a vital character. How well this fact illustrates the profound wisdom embodied in our constitution!

Sixteen amendments were finally agreed to by Congress and submitted to the several state legislatures. Ten of these were subsequently ratified, and now form a part of the federal constitution. This early action of Congress in deference to the opinions of minorities in the several states had a most happy effect. It reconciled many able men to the new government, and gave it strength at an hour when it was most needed.

The senate, meanwhile, had adopted measures for the establishment of a federal judiciary. A plan embodied in a bill drafted by Ellsworth, of Connecticut, was, after several amendments, concurred in by both houses. By its provisions, the judiciary as established consisted of a supreme court, having one chief justice and five associate justices, who were to hold two sessions annually at the seat of the federal government. Circuit and district courts were also established, which had jurisdiction over certain specified cases. Appeals from these lower courts to the supreme court of the United States were allowed, as to points of law, in all civil cases where the matter in dispute amounted to two thousand dollars. A marshal was to be appointed for each district, having the general power of a sheriff, who was to attend all courts, and was authorized to serve all processes. A district attorney, to act for the United States in all cases in which the federal government might be interested, was also to be appointed for each district. Such, in brief outline and in general terms, was the federal judiciary organized at the commencement of the government, and which is still in force, with slight modifications.

The government being completely organized by acts of Congress, and a system of revenue for the support of the government being established, Washington proceeded to the important duty of filling the several offices which had been created. This was a most delicate and momentous task, for upon a right choice, especially in the heads of the executive departments, depended much of the success of his administration. He had contemplated the subject with much deliberation, and when the time came for him to act he was fully prepared.

At that time the post of secretary of the treasury was the most important of all. Everything pertaining to the finances of the country was in confusion, and needed a skillful hand in re-arranging and systematizing the inharmonious and incoherent fiscal machinery, so as to ascertain the actual resources of the treasury, and to adopt measures for restoring the credit of the country upon a basis of perfect solvency. “My endeavors,” Washington wrote before he assumed the office of chief magistrate, “shall be unremittingly exerted, even at the hazard of former fame or present popularity, to extricate my country from the embarrassments in which it is entangled through want of credit.”

To Robert Morris, the able financier of the Revolution, Washington turned with a feeling that he was the best man for the head of the treasury department. Immediately after his inauguration, he inquired of Morris: “What are we to do with this heavy debt?” “There is but one man in the United States,” replied Morris, “who can tell you—that is Alexander Hamilton. I am glad,” he added, “that you have given me this opportunity to declare to you the extent of the obligations I am under to him.”

This hint determined Washington to offer the important position of secretary of the treasury to Hamilton. At the beginning of his administration he gave that gentleman assurances that he should call him to his cabinet in that capacity; and he frequently consulted him in reference to fiscal matters and cognate subjects during the summer. And when, in September, the office was formally tendered to Hamilton, he accepted it, although it was at the sacrifice of the emoluments of a lucrative profession. Some of his friends remonstrated with him on that account, because it would not be just to his growing family. “Of that I am aware,” the patriot replied; “but I am convinced it is the situation in which I can do most good.” He entered upon the duties of his office almost immediately, with a full assurance that he should perform what he had often expressed a belief that he could do—the restoration of the public credit.

General Henry Knox, the efficient leader of the artillery during the Revolution, the sincere friend of Washington, and a prudent, industrious, faithful, and honest man, was retained in the office of secretary of war.

To Edmund Randolph, Washington offered the responsible position of attorney-general of the United States. They had differed materially in their opinions concerning the federal constitution, and it will be remembered that Randolph refused to sign it; but he had in a great degree become reconciled to the measure; and at no time was the friendship between himself and Washington interrupted by their diversity of political sentiments. Washington knew Randolph's great worth and eminent abilities, and urged him to accept the office. He complied, and some months afterward entered upon its duties.

John Jay, one of the brightest minds of the remarkable century in which he lived, and an acute lawyer, was chosen to fill the office of chief justice of the United States. “I have a full confidence,” wrote Washington to Mr. Jay, “that the love which you bear to our country, and a desire to promote the general happiness, will not suffer you to hesitate a moment to bring into action the talents, knowledge, and integrity, which are so necessary to be exercised at the head of that department which must be considered the keystone of our political fabric.”

Mr. Jay accepted the office; and for his associates on the bench, the president selected William Cushing, then chief justice of Massachusetts; James Wilson, of Pennsylvania, a very conspicuous member of the general convention of 1787; Robert H. Harrison, then chief justice of Maryland, who during a large portion of the war for independence had been one of Washington's most loved confidential secretaries; John Blair, one of the judges of the court of appeals in Virginia; and John Rutledge, the bold, outspoken patriot of South Carolina. Harrison declined, and James Iredell, of North Carolina, was substituted.

The office of secretary of state remained to be filled. To that important post the president invited Thomas Jefferson, whose long and varied experience in public affairs at home and abroad thoroughly qualified him for the duties of that office. He was then the minister plenipotentiary of the United States at the French court, having succeeded Doctor Franklin. He had obtained leave to return home for a few months. He sailed from Havre to England late in September, and embarked from Cowes for America. He landed at Norfolk on the twenty-third of November; and on his way to Monticello, his beautiful seat near Charlottesville in Virginia, he received a letter from Washington, dated the thirteenth of October, in which he was invited to a seat in the cabinet as secretary of state. “In the selection of characters,” the president said, “to fill the important offices of government, I was naturally led to contemplate the talents and disposition which I knew you to possess and entertain for the service of your country; and without being able to consult your inclination, or to derive any knowledge of your intentions from your letters either to myself or to any of your friends, I was determined, as well by motives of private regard as a conviction of public propriety, to nominate you for the department of state, which, under its present organization, involves many of the most interesting objects of the executive authority.”

Mr. Jefferson, who had become enamored with the leaders and the principles of the French revolution then just inaugurated by the destruction of the Bastile and other acts, preferred to remain in Europe; but, yielding to the wishes of the president, he signified his willingness to accept the office. He was fearful that he would not be equal to the requirements of the station; but, he said, “my chief comfort will be to work under your eye, my only shelter the authority of your name, and the wisdom of measures to be dictated by you and implicitly executed by me.”

The office of secretary of the navy was not created until early in 1798, when war with France was anticipated. A navy was then formed, and a naval department established; and at the close of April, Benjamin Stoddart, of Georgetown, in the District of Columbia, was appointed the secretary, and became a cabinet officer. The postmaster-general did not become an executive officer until 1829, the first year of President Jackson's administration, when William T. Barry entered the cabinet as the head of the post-office department. Since then a new department has been established, called the department of the interior, the head of which is a cabinet officer.

The Congress adjourned on the twenty-ninth of September, after a session of more than six months, to meet again on the first Monday in January. Their last act was to appoint a joint committee to wait on the president and “request that he would recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peacefully to establish a constitution of government for their safety and happiness.”

The president complied, and by proclamation he recommended that the twenty-sixth of November “be devoted by the people of these states to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may thus all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for his kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their becoming a nation; for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his providence, in the course and conclusion of the late war; for the great degree of tranquillity, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed; for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national one now recently instituted; for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and, in general, for all the great and various favors which He has been pleased to confer upon us.”

CHAPTER XI.

TOP

washington departs on a tour through new england—his cordial reception everywhere—honors on the route—invited to partake of governor hancock's hospitality while he remains in boston—washington declines, but agrees to dine with him—conflicting preparations for receiving the president at boston—washington escorted to the verge of boston—delay occasioned by disputes concerning a point of etiquette—washington disgusted—the dispute settled—a grand reception—the governor of a state assumes superior dignity to the president of the united states—his humiliation—an eye-witness's account of the matter—honors bestowed upon the president at boston—he journeys to portsmouth—returns through the interior to new york—position of north carolina and rhode island.

Immediately after the adjournment of Congress, Washington prepared to make a tour through New England, in order to become better acquainted with public characters there, the temper of the people toward the new government, and the circumstances and resources of the country. He had asked the advice of his counsellors on the propriety of such a journey, immediately after his inauguration, and now he again talked with Hamilton and Madison about it. They thought it desirable; and on the morning of Thursday, the fifteenth of October, he set out in his carriage drawn by four horses, and accompanied by Major Jackson, his aid-de-camp, and Tobias Lear, his private secretary, with six servants. All papers appertaining to foreign affairs he left under the temporary control of Mr. Jay.

The president was accompanied some distance out of the city by Chief-Justice Jay, General Knox, and Colonel Hamilton. His diary kept during his tour exhibits his constant and minute observations concerning the agricultural resources, and mechanical and other industrial operations, of the country through which he passed. At every considerable town on his route he was greeted by the authorities and the people, and everywhere he received demonstrations of the greatest personal respect and affection. On approaching New Haven on Saturday, the seventeenth, he was met by the governor and lieutenant-governor of Connecticut (Huntington and Wolcott), and Roger Sherman, the mayor of the city. The governor and the congregational ministers of the city presented to him addresses, in which they congratulated him on the restoration of his health. He remained in New Haven until Monday morning, and then journeyed on to Hartford accompanied by an escort of cavalry and citizens. At Middletown and other places on the way he was received by escorts, and greeted with the ringing of bells, and sometimes the firing of cannon. Increasing demonstrations of respect met him as he proceeded. At Hartford all business was suspended during his stay; and, in all the towns, every class of citizens thronged the places of his presence to see the face of their beloved friend.

Grateful as these demonstrations were to the feelings of Washington, as evidences of personal and official respect, they were not consonant with his desires. He wished to travel in the quiet manner of a private citizen, for he was ever averse to ostentatious displays of every kind. But his wishes could not control the actions of his fellow-citizens, and he yielded with a good grace to their receptions.

Near Brookfield, between Palmer and Worcester, the president was met by a messenger sent by John Hancock, then governor of Massachusetts, to give notice of measures that had been arranged for the chief magistrate's reception on his approach to, and entrance into the city of Boston, the capital of the commonwealth. Governor Hancock also invited him to make his house his home while in Boston.

Washington courteously declined the governor's invitation to partake of his hospitality. “Could my wish prevail,” he said, “I should desire to visit your metropolis without any parade or extraordinary ceremony. From a wish to avoid giving trouble to private families I determined, on leaving New York, to decline the honor of any invitation to quarters which I might receive while on my journey; and, with a view to observe this rule, I had requested a gentleman to engage lodgings for me during my stay in Boston.”

On the receipt of this letter, Governor Hancock wrote by the return courier to the president, expressing his regret that he could not have the honor of entertaining him at his house as a guest, and begging that he and his suite would honor him with their company at dinner, en famille, on the day of their arrival. Washington accepted the invitation, and on Saturday, the twenty-fourth of October, he passed through Cambridge, and approached Boston toward meridian.

Preparations had been made for the reception of the president by Governor Hancock and the municipal authorities of Boston, each independently of the other, and without consultation. This produced a disagreeable, but in some respects laughable scene in the ceremonies of the day. Both parties sincerely desired to pay the highest honors to the chief magistrate of the nation, but political considerations separated the governor and the selectmen of Boston. The governor claimed the right, as chief officer of the state, of receiving and welcoming in person the expected guest at the entrance to the capital; while the selectmen said, “You should have met him at the boundary of the state; but when he is about to enter the town, it is the right of the municipal authorities to receive him.”

The controversy was unsettled when the president and suite, under a military escort commanded by General Brooks, passed through Roxbury and were ready to enter Boston. Washington and Major Jackson had left the carriage, and had mounted horses prepared for them; and as the whole procession passed over the Neck it was stopped, without apparent cause, for a long time. The contending parties, executive and municipal, had their respective carriages drawn up, each with the determination to receive and do honors to the president; and for more than an hour aides and marshals were posting between the leaders of the contending parties, endeavoring to effect a reconciliation. The sky was cloudy and the atmosphere raw, sour, and most disagreeable.[19] Washington finally inquired the cause of the delay, and, being informed, he asked, with evident impatience, whether there was any other avenue into the town. He was about to wheel his horse and seek one, and leave the contestants about etiquette to settle their dispute at leisure—when he was informed that the matter had been arranged, the governor's party having yielded to the municipal authorities.

The war of words being ended, the procession moved on. The president was formally welcomed by the selectmen, and was received into the city with acclamations of joy, the ringing of bells, and the firing of cannon. A magnificent arch was raised for Washington to pass under, and the streets, doors, and windows were filled with well-dressed people of both sexes. The president rode with his hat off, and with a calm, dignified air, without bowing to the people as he passed; but when he had reached a balcony of the old statehouse, and he was saluted by a long procession of citizens, he occasionally returned the salutations.[20] When the ceremonials were over, he was conducted to his lodgings, at Mrs. Ingersoll's—a fine brick house, at the corner of Tremont and Court streets—accompanied by the lieutenant-governor and council, and Vice-President Adams, who was then in Boston. A fine company of light-infantry, commanded by the distinguished Harrison Gray Otis, was a guard of honor on the occasion.

Washington made the following record in his diary that evening: “Having engaged yesterday to take an informal dinner with the governor to-day, but under a full persuasion that he would have waited upon me so soon as I should have arrived, I excused myself upon his not doing it, and informing me through his secretary that he was too much indisposed to do it, being resolved to receive the visit. Dined at my lodgings, where the vice-president favored me with his company.”

This record alludes to an amusing display of official pride on the part of Governor Hancock, which Washington, in the most dignified way, completely humbled. Hancock's wealth, public services, and official position, placed him in the highest rank of social life at that time; and he had conceived the opinion that, as governor of a state and within the bounds of his jurisdiction, etiquette made it proper for him to receive the first visit, even from the president of the United States. He therefore omitted to meet Washington on his first arrival, or to call upon him; but, lacking courage to avow the true reason, he pleaded indisposition. The true cause of the omission had been given to the president, and he determined to resist the governor's foolish pretensions. He therefore excused himself from the engagement to dinner, and dined, as he says, at his own lodgings, with Vice-President Adams as his guest.

Hancock soon perceived that he had made a great mistake, and sent three gentlemen that evening to express to Washington his concern that he had not been in a condition to call upon him as soon as he entered the town. “I informed them,” says Washington in his diary, “in explicit terms, that I should not see the governor unless it was at my own lodgings.”

The next day (Sunday), on consultation with his friends, Hancock determined to waive the point of etiquette; and at noon he sent a message to Washington that he would do himself the honor of visiting him within half an hour, notwithstanding it was at the hazard of his health. Washington immediately returned a note in reply to the governor, informing him that he would be at home until two o'clock, and adding, with the most polished irony: “The president need not express the pleasure it will give him to see the governor; but, at the same time, he most earnestly begs that the governor will not hazard his health on the occasion.”

Hancock made the visit within the specified time. After recording in his diary his attendance upon public worship in the morning and afternoon, Washington added: “Between the two I received a visit from the governor, who assured me that indisposition alone prevented him from doing it yesterday, and that he was still indisposed; but as it had been suggested that he expected to receive the visit from the president, which he knew was improper, he was resolved at all hazards to pay his compliments to-day.” Thus the matter ended; and the next day the president drank tea with the governor, the latter not having been injured by his exposure in calling upon Washington.[21]

The president remained in Boston until Thursday, the twenty-ninth, during which time he received many calls and addresses, and visited the manufacturing establishments in the city, and the French ships-of-war in the harbor. On the twenty-seventh he had a busy day. In his diary he recorded: “At ten o'clock in the morning received the visits of the clergy of the town. At eleven, went to an oratorio; and between that and three o'clock received the addresses of the governor and council of the town of Boston[22]—of the president, et cetera, of Harvard college, and of the Cincinnati of the state; after which, at three o'clock, I dined at a large and elegant dinner at Faneuil hall, given by the governor and council, and spent the evening at my lodgings.”

Of all the addresses, none were so grateful to him as that from his old companions-in-arms, the members of the Cincinnati. “After the solemn and endearing farewell on the banks of the Hudson,” they said, “which our anxiety presaged as final, most peculiarly pleasing is the present unexpected meeting. On this occasion we can not avoid the recollection of the various scenes of toil and danger through which you conducted us; and while we contemplate the trying periods of the war, and the triumphs of peace, we rejoice to behold you, induced by the unanimous voice of your country, entering upon other trials and other services, alike important, and in some points of view equally hazardous. For the completion of the great purposes which a grateful country has assigned you, long, very long may your invaluable life be preserved; and as an admiring world, while considering you as a soldier, have wanted a comparison, so may your virtues and talents as a statesman leave it without a parallel.”

To these remarks Washington replied: “Dear, indeed, is the occasion which restores intercourse with my associates in prosperous and adverse fortune; and enhanced are the triumphs of peace participated with those whose virtue and valor so largely contributed to procure them. To that virtue and valor your country has confessed her obligations. Be mine the grateful task to add to the testimony of a connection which it was my pride to own in the field, and is now my happiness to acknowledge in the enjoyment of peace and freedom.”

On board the French vessels in the harbor were about thirty officers who had served in America during the Revolution, and several of these were members of the society of the Cincinnati in France. Of these the admiral, Viscount de Pondevez, the Marquis de Traversay, and the Chevalier de Braye (the Marquis de Galhsoneire being ill on board his ship) accompanied the Cincinnati in presenting their address. On the following day the president was conveyed on board the flag-ship of the French admiral, in the beautiful barge of the ship Illustrious, having the flag of the United States at the bow, and that of France at the stern. It was steered by a major and rowed by midshipmen, and the president was received on board with the homage given to sovereigns. “The officers,” says one account, “took off their shoes, and the crew all appeared with their legs bared.” “Going and coming,” says Washington in his diary, “I was saluted by the two frigates which lay near the wharves, and by the seventy-fours after I had been on board of them. I was also saluted, going and coming, by the fort on Castle island.”

Washington continued his tour eastward as far as Portsmouth, in New Hampshire, passing through Salem and Newburyport on the way. He was attended nearly the whole distance by military escorts. He left Boston on the morning of the twenty-ninth. Eight o'clock was the hour appointed for departure. The escort that was to accompany him was not ready, and the punctual president, ever deprecating delays, and fearing some other question of etiquette was to be settled, left the laggards to overtake him on the road. He enjoyed the hospitalities of the executive of New Hampshire (General Sullivan) and the citizens of Portsmouth, for several days. There he gave Mr. Gulligher, a Boston painter, one sitting for his portrait, at the request of several of the inhabitants of that city, and also partook of a public dinner and attended a ball given in his honor.[23]

From Portsmouth Washington journeyed toward New York by an interior route, passing through Exeter, Haverhill, Andover, Lexington, Watertown, Uxbridge, Pomfret (where General Putnam lived), and arrived at Hartford on Monday, the ninth of November. He reached New York in the afternoon of the thirteenth, his health much benefitted by the journey, and his store of knowledge of the people and the country greatly increased. He had been everywhere received as a father, and he left behind him many pleasant memories, which the participants cherished as long as life lasted.[24] The excess of adulation to which the president had been exposed during his tour in New England was deprecated by the more thoughtful, but none found fault with the matter seriously. Trumbull, the author of McFingal, said good-naturedly in a letter to his friend Oliver Wolcott: “We have gone through all the popish grades of worship, and the president returns all fragrant with the odor of incense.”

It will be observed that in this tour the president avoided Rhode Island altogether. The reason was that that state, and North Carolina, had not yet ratified the federal constitution, and were so far regarded as foreign states that tonnage duties were imposed upon the vessels of each coming into any port of the other eleven states. But this unpleasant position of the two commonwealths was soon changed. On the very day when Washington reached New York from his eastern tour, a convention of North Carolina voted to ratify the constitution; and on the twenty-ninth of May following, Rhode Island was admitted into the Union.

FOOTNOTES:

[19] Washington took cold on that occasion. In his diary, the following Monday, he recorded: “The day being rainy and stormy, myself much disordered by a cold and inflammation in my left eye, I was prevented from visiting Lexington,” etc. Sullivan, in his Familiar Letters, tells us that, for several days afterward, a severe influenza prevailed at Boston and in its vicinity, and was called the Washington influenza. It may not be inappropriate to mention that a similar epidemic prevailed all over New England and a part of New York, after the visit of President Tyler to Boston, in 1843, which was called the Tyler grippe.

[20] Washington wrote in his diary, under date of Saturday, October twenty-fourth: “Suffice it to say, that at the entrance of the town I was welcomed by the selectmen in a body. Then following the lieutenant-governor and council in the order we came from Cambridge (preceded by the town corps, very handsomely dressed), we passed through the citizens classed in their different professions and under their own banners, till we came to the statehouse, from which, across the street, an arch was thrown, in the front of which was this inscription, 'To the man who unites all hearts;' and on the other, 'To Columbia's favorite Son.' On one side thereof, next the statehouse, in a panel decorated with a trophy, composed of the arms of the United States, of the commonwealth of Massachusetts, and our French allies, crowned with a wreath of laurel, was this inscription—'Boston relieved, March 17, 1776.' This arch was handsomely ornamented, and over the centre of it a canopy was erected twenty feet high, with the American eagle perched on the top. After passing through the arch, and entering the statehouse at the south end and ascending to the upper floor, and returning to the balcony at the north end, three cheers were given by a vast concourse of people who by this time had assembled at the arch. Then followed an ode, composed in honor of the president, and well sung by a band of select singers. After this three cheers, followed by the different professions and mechanics, in the order they were drawn up with their colors, through a lane of the people which had thronged about the arch, under which they passed. The streets, the doors, the windows, and tops of the houses, were crowded with well-dressed ladies and gentlemen.”

[21] The venerable Samuel Breck, of Philadelphia, now [1859] in the eighty-ninth year of his age, communicated to me in a letter dated May twenty-fifth, 1859, the following interesting reminiscences of Washington's visit to Boston on the occasion under consideration. After giving me a most interesting account of matters connected with the French vessels there, Mr. Breck says:—

“At the time when Admiral de Pondevez was lying with his fleet in the harbor of Boston, General Washington, the first president of the United States, who was making a tour East during the recess of Congress, arrived there. He was received with open arms and hearty cheers by the people. In his honor a triumphal arch was raised, with appropriate mottoes, near the old statehouse. Under this he passed in great state. I stood at a window close by, and saw him enter the balcony of that building and show himself to the thousands who came from far and near to greet him. I saw all that passed, heard the fine anthems that were composed for the occasion, and gazed with admiring eyes upon his majestic figure.

“The procession that had accompanied him from the entrance of the town took up its line of march again, after these ceremonies, and accompanied him to the house selected for his residence, which stood at the corner of Tremont and Court streets. It was a handsome brick building. A beautiful company of light-infantry served as a guard of honor, commanded by the well-known and greatly distinguished Harrison Gray Otis.

“Governor Hancock had prepared a great dinner at his house, to which he invited the French admiral, the officers of the fleet, and many of the principal citizens. A notion had got into Hancock's head, that the governor of a state was a kind of king or sovereign in his own territory, and that it would be derogatory to his station to pay the first visit to any one, even the president of the United States; and, acting always upon this rule, he sent an invitation to General Washington to dine with him, but excused himself from calling on him, alleging that sickness detained him at home; thus covering by a lame apology the resolution which he dared not openly exercise toward the president. Washington, who had received some hint of this absurd point of etiquette which sought to exalt the head of a part above the head of the whole, sent his aid-de-camp, Major William Jackson, with a message to his excellency, declining the invitation to dinner, and intimating that if his health permitted him to receive company, it would admit of his visiting him.

“My father dined at the governor's, and about sunset brought Admiral de Pondevez and several of his officers, who spent the evening with us. The dinner-party went off heavily, owing to the general disappointment in not meeting the president. Meantime the French ships-of-war in the harbor were dressed in variegated lamps, and bonfires blazed in the streets. The ladies wore bandeaux, cestuses, and ribands, stamped and embroidered with the name of Washington; some in gold and silver letters, and some in pearls.

“About ten o'clock I accompanied the admiral to the wharf of embarkation for his ship. As we passed the house where the president lodged, De Pondevez and his party expressed great surprise at the absence of all sort of parade or noise. 'What!' said he, 'not even a sentinel? In Europe,' he added, 'a brigadier-general would have a guard; and here this great man, the chief of a nation, does not permit it!'

“The next day was Sunday, and immediately after morning service, Mr. Joseph Russell, an intimate friend of the governor, called at our house, and told my father that his excellency had swallowed the bitter pill, and was then on his way to visit the president—to which step he had been urged by a report that the people generally condemned his false pride.”

[22] The address from the town was accompanied by a request, in behalf of the ladies of Boston, that he would sit for his portrait, to be placed in Faneuil hall, that others might be copied from it for their respective families. On account of a want of time he was compelled to decline, but promised to have it painted for them after his return to New York.

[23] “At half-after seven,” he says in his diary, “I went to the assembly, where there were about seventy-five well-dressed, and many of them very handsome ladies, among whom (as was also the case at the Salem and Boston assemblies) were a greater proportion with much blacker hair than are usually seen in the southern states.”

[24] Between Uxbridge and Pomfret, the president lodged at an inn kept by Mr. Taft, where he was so much pleased with the family, that on his arrival at Hartford he wrote the following letter to Mr. Taft:—

“Hartford, 8th November, 1789.

“Sir: Being informed that you have given my name to one of your sons, and called another after Mrs. Washington's family, and being moreover very much pleased with the modest and innocent looks of your two daughters, Patty and Polly, I do for these reasons send each of these girls a piece of chintz; and to Patty, who bears the name of Mrs. Washington, and who waited more upon us than Polly did, I send five guineas, with which she may buy herself any little ornament she may want, or she may dispose of them in any other manner more agreeable to herself. As I do not give these things with a view to have it talked of, or even to its being known, the less there is said about the matter the better you will please me. But, that I may be sure the chintz and money have got safe to hand, let Patty, who I dare say is equal to it, write me a line, informing me thereof, directed to 'The President of the United States at New York.' I wish you and your family well, and am your humble servant,

Geo. Washington.”

CHAPTER XII.

TOP

first act in the french revolution—lafayette's participation in it—american sympathy in the movement—washington's expression of feelings—opening of the second session of congress—washington's message—precedents established—hamilton's report on the public debt and public credit—his financial scheme—the plan before congress—assumption of state debts—financial measures adopted by congress—effects of the discussion of the subject—washington's opinions—his letter concerning sectional jealousies.

During the summer of 1789 a revolution had broken out in France, and its influence was soon materially felt in the politics of the United States. It was severe at the beginning and terrible in its subsequent course. For a long time the enormous corruptions of state had been apparent, and an attempted cure by the most violent means appeared inevitable to the thoughtful and sagacious. The French monarch was a weak man and governed much by bad advisers; and he often refused to listen to the true friends of himself and France when they talked of political and social reforms. Among these was the good, and brave, and generous Lafayette, who loved the king for his many virtues, but loved France and her true glory, based upon the welfare and prosperity of her people, far more.

Lafayette's principal associates in the scheme of reform were the Duke de Rochefoucauld and M. Candorcet. These and one or two others were regarded as the leaders. They aimed to obtain for France a constitution similar to that of England, which they regarded as the most perfect model of human government then known. They desired to retain the throne, but to diminish very materially the power of the monarch. They desired a house of peers, with legislative powers similar to that of England, but restricted in number to one hundred members. They desired a house of representatives, to be chosen by the great body of the people from among themselves, and to make the government a constitutional monarchy upon a republican basis.

With this view Lafayette with his coadjutors had labored for several months, when, in the assembly of Notables in April, he boldly demanded a series of reforms, and among others a national assembly. “What!” exclaimed the Count d'Artois, one of Louis's bad advisers, “do you make a motion for the states-general?”—“Yes, and even more than that,” quickly responded Lafayette. That more was a charter from the king, by which the public and individual liberty should be acknowledged and guarantied by the future states-general. The measure was carried, and early in May a session of the states-general was opened at Versailles.

Had the king now listened to the advice of his true friends, and made concessions, all would have been well. But he ordered the hall of the national assembly, or states-general, to be closed. He also allowed German troops from every quarter to gather around Paris, and when requested by the national assembly to send them away he refused. M. Necker, the patriotic controller of the treasury, and other ministers who favored reform were dismissed, and the populace became greatly excited. For three days there were scenes of violence in the French capital that presaged the most terrible results. The national assembly decreed the establishment of an armed militia of forty-eight thousand men, when no less than two hundred and seventy thousand citizens enrolled themselves. Arms were seized, and the greatest exasperation appeared on every side. Again the removal of the troops around Paris was demanded. “I alone,” replied the king, “have the right to judge of the necessity, and in that respect I can make no change.”

Forbearance was no longer a virtue; and the state-prison, called the Bastile, being regarded as one of the strongholds of despotism, was attacked and taken by the people on the fourteenth of July. The conquering thousands then marched in triumph to the city-hall. The chief supporters of the king fled, and Louis, finding himself abandoned, hurried to the national assembly to make peace with it. “Heaven knows,” he exclaimed, “that the nation, and I are one—I confide myself wholly to you. Help me, in this crisis, to save the state. Relying on the attachment and security of my subjects, I have ordered the troops to leave Paris and Versailles. I beseech you to make known my intentions to the capital!”

Lafayette and another hurried to the city-hall, in Paris, to inform the people of the king's declarations. “He has hitherto been deceived,” he said, “but he now sees the merit and justness of the popular cause.” The enthusiasm was general at this announcement. Tears of joy were shed, and the revolution appeared to be at an end. The king confirmed the nomination of Lafayette as the commander-in-chief of the national guard, by which he was put at the head of four millions of armed citizens; and the nation breathed free with hope. But the wily duke of Orleans, who desired the destruction of the king for the base purposes of his own exaltation, excited suspicions among the people, and a demand for the king's presence at the Tuilleries was made. Louis went voluntarily from Versailles to Paris, followed by sixty thousand citizens and a hundred deputies of the assembly, and there formally accepted the Declaration of the Rights of Man, which was presented to him. This set the minds of the people at rest, and quiet was restored to the capital and to France.

But Lafayette was filled with apprehension for the future. To Colonel John Trumbull, who was about to leave France for the United States at the close of summer, he communicated a special message to Washington concerning the state of affairs in France. After speaking of the changes already effected and the hopes for the future, he said: “Unhappily, there is one powerful and wicked man, who, I fear, will destroy this beautiful fabric of human happiness—the duke of Orleans.” He had already been accused, and no doubt justly, of sending hired assassins to Versailles to murder Louis and the royal family, that he might be made regent of the kingdom. “He does not, indeed,” said Lafayette, “possess talent to carry into execution a great project; but he possesses immense wealth, and France abounds in marketable talents. Every city and town has young men eminent for abilities, particularly in the law—ardent in character, eloquent, ambitious of distinction, but poor.” Such was the material that composed the leaders in the reign of terror which speedily followed, and deluged Paris in blood.

The revolution in France, under the direction of Lafayette and his associates, was thorough as far as it went, yet it was conservative. It elicited the warmest sympathies of the American people, and Washington was rejoiced at the promise thus made of happiness for the French nation. “The revolution which has taken place with you,” he wrote to Lafayette in October, “is of such magnitude, and of so momentous a nature, that we hardly yet dare to form a conjecture about it. We however trust, and fervently pray, that its consequences may prove happy to a nation in whose fate we have so much cause to be interested, and that its influence may be felt with pleasure by future generations.” To the Count de Rochambeau he said: “I am persuaded I express the sentiments of my fellow-citizens, when I offer our earnest prayer that it may terminate in the permanent honor and happiness of your government and people.”

The connection of the revolution, the first act of which we have delineated in outline, with the administration of Washington, will be developed hereafter. It has been given here because it was appropriate in the order of time.

1790

Few public events of importance occurred in the United States, after Washington's return from his eastern tour, until the reassembling of Congress, early in January, 1790. The day appointed for that assembling was the fourth, but there was not a quorum of the two houses until the eighth, when the session was formally opened by Washington in person, with an address which he read in the senate chamber. According to a record in his diary, it was done with considerable state, conformably to arrangements made by General Knox and Colonel Humphreys.[25] In that address the president recommended adequate provision for the common defence, having special reference to Indian hostilities; an appropriation for the support of representatives of the United States at foreign courts and other agents abroad; the establishment of a federal rule of naturalization; measures for the encouragement of agriculture, manufactures, commerce, and literature; and adequate provision for the interest on the public debt. As at the opening of the first session, both houses now waited upon the president with formal answers to his message, and the various recommendations contained in it were referred to an equal number of committees. The latter practice has ever since been adhered to.

Three important questions, involving the establishment of precedents, were discussed and decided early in the session of 1790. The first was a decision, in accordance with the report of a joint committee of both houses, that the last session of each Congress should expire on the third of March. The second was in relation to the unfinished business of the former session. On the report of a joint committee, a rule was established that everything might be taken up where it had been left off at the adjournment, except bills which after having passed one house had stopped in the other. These were to be considered as lost, and were not to be revived except in the form of new matter. The third question was as to the official intercourse of the heads of departments with Congress. The question grew out of an intimation from Mr. Hamilton, the secretary of the treasury, that he was ready to make a report on the national debt and the support of the public credit, according to the requirements of a resolution passed at the last session. The question was, Shall the report be made orally or in writing? The decision was that it should be in writing; and ever since, the heads of departments have held intercourse with Congress only in writing, the secretary of the treasury reporting directly to Congress, the other secretaries through the president.

Hamilton's financial scheme was the most important subject that occupied the attention of Congress during that session. It was submitted to the house on the fifteenth of January. It was a most masterly performance, and commanded the profound attention and respect of the whole country. It boldly enunciated principles based upon the broad foundation of common honesty, by which, in the opinion of the secretary, the United States ought to be governed in relation to the public debt. The report opened with an able and comprehensive argument in elucidation and support of these principles the fundamental ground of the whole argument being the justice and policy of making adequate provision for the final payment of the federal and state debts.

These debts amounted in the aggregate to a large sum. Hamilton estimated the foreign debt due to the account of France, to private creditors in Holland, and a small sum in Spain, at about eleven and three quarter millions of dollars. This sum included the arrears of interest (more than a million and a half of dollars) which had accumulated on the French and Spanish loans since 1786, and installments of the French loan overdue. The domestic debt, including interest to the end of 1790, and an allowance for unliquidated claims of two millions of dollars (principally unredeemed continental money), he estimated at about forty-two and a half millions, nearly a third part of which was arrears of interest.

The domestic debt was due originally to officers and soldiers of the war for independence; farmers who had furnished supplies for the army, or suffered losses by seizure of their products; and capitalists who had loaned money to the continental Congress during the war, or spent their fortunes freely in support of the cause. These were sacred debts; but the position into which the paper which represented these outstanding claims had fallen, afforded a specious argument against the propriety of paying their nominal value to the holders. So long had public justice delayed in liquidating these claims, that they had sunk to one sixth of their nominal value, and a greater portion of the paper was held by speculators. It thus lost the power with which it appealed to the public sympathy when in the hands of the original holders, and there was a general sentiment against a full liquidation of these claims. It was therefore suggested that the principle of a scale of depreciation should be applied to them, as had been done in the case of the continental money, in paying them—that is, at the rates at which they had been purchased by the holders. It was especially urged that this principle should be applied to the arrears of interest, then accumulated to an amount almost equal to one half the principal.

In his report, Hamilton took strong grounds against this idea, as being unjust, dishonest, and impolitic. In the latter point of view, he justly argued that public credit was essential to the new federal government, and without it sudden emergencies, to which all governments as well as individuals are exposed, could not be met promptly and efficiently. Public credit, he said, could only be established by the faithful discharge of public debts in strict conformity to the terms of contract. In the case in question the contract was to pay so much money to the holders of the certificates, or to their assignees. This was plain, and nothing but a full and faithful discharge of the nominal value of the debt could satisfy the contract. Thus he argued concerning the principal, and he applied the same logic to the accumulated overdue interest. It ought to have been paid when due, according to contract, and was as much an honest debt as the principal.

Hamilton went further. He strongly recommended the assumption of the state debts by the federal government, amounting in the aggregate, overdue interest included, to about twenty-five millions of dollars. Both descriptions of debts, he argued, were contracted for the same objects, and were in the main the same. Indeed, a great part of the particular debts of the states had arisen from assumptions by them on account of the Union, and it was most equitable that there should be the same measure of retribution for all. The secretary considered such assumption “a measure of sound policy and substantial justice.” The entire debt, federal and state, foreign and domestic, for the payment of which he recommended measures of provision, was almost eighty millions of dollars.

The secretary, after giving the whole subject a thorough investigation and discussion, proposed that a loan should be opened to the full amount of the debt, federal and state, upon the following terms:—

First. That for every one hundred dollars subscribed payable in the debt, as well interest as principal, the subscriber should be entitled to have two thirds founded on a yearly interest of six per cent. (the capital redeemable at the pleasure of the government by the payment of the principal), and to receive the other third in lands of the western territory at their then actual value. Or,

Secondly. To have the whole sum funded at a yearly interest of four per cent., irredeemable by any payment exceeding five dollars upon the hundred, per annum, both on account of principal and interest, and to receive as a compensation for the reduction of interest fifteen dollars and eighty cents, payable in lands as in the preceding case. Or,

Thirdly. To have sixty-six and two thirds of a dollar funded at a yearly interest of six per cent., irredeemable also by any payment exceeding four dollars and two thirds of a dollar upon the hundred, per annum, on account both of principal and interest; and to have at the end of ten years twenty-six dollars and eighty-eight cents, funded at the like interest and rate of redemption.

In addition to these propositions, the creditors were to have an option of vesting their money in annuities on different plans; and it was also recommended to open a loan at five per cent. for ten millions of dollars, payable one half in specie and the other half in the debt, irredeemable by any payment exceeding six dollars upon the hundred, per annum, both of principal and interest.

The secretary also proposed an augmentation of the duties on imported wines, spirits, tea, and coffee, to enable the treasury to meet the increased demand that would be made upon it; and a duty on domestic spirits was also recommended. Serious trouble grew out of the latter measure when adopted and put in force.

Hamilton's report, sent to Congress on the fourteenth of January, was taken up for consideration in the house of representatives on the twenty-eighth; but action was postponed until the eighth of February. Its propositions, especially the one relating to the assumption of the state debts, were vehemently opposed, chiefly because of their tendency to a centralization of power, as giving an undue influence to the general government, and as being of doubtful constitutionality. Many in different parts of the Union thought they saw great political evil in this financial union of the states; and Virginia, above all others, most earnestly opposed the scheme. It was believed that the funding of the state debts would materially benefit the northern states, in which was almost the entire capital of the country, while the southern states could see no benefit for themselves.

Finally, on the ninth of March, a bill predicated upon the secretary's report passed in committee of the whole by a small majority, and went to the house for discussion. This continued from time to time until August, when, on the fourth, an act was passed embodying essentially the several propositions in Hamilton's report. It authorized the president to borrow twelve millions of dollars, if so much were found necessary, for discharging the arrears of interest and the overdue installments of the foreign debt, and for the paying off the whole of that debt, could it be effected on advantageous terms, the money thus borrowed to be reimbursed within fifteen years. It also authorized the opening of a new loan, payable in certificates of the domestic debt at par value, and in continental bills of credit at the rate of one hundred for one. Certificates were to be issued for subscriptions in the interest of the domestic debt to the full amount, redeemable at the pleasure of the government, and bearing interest at the rate of three per cent., the interest to be paid quarterly, and to commence with the first day of January, 1791; all interest becoming due on continental certificates, up to that time, to be funded as above. Subscriptions in the principal of the domestic debt were to bear interest at six per cent.; but upon one third of the amount, entitled “deferred stock,” the interest was not to commence till the year 1800. This interest was not to be redeemable at a faster rate than eight dollars upon the hundred, annually, including the yearly interest, and it was left to the option of the public creditors to subscribe, or not, to this new loan.

The amount of state debts assumed by the general government, by the act, was twenty-one millions, five hundred thousand dollars. For this the act authorized an additional loan, payable in certificates of the state debts, which were distributed among the states in specific proportions;[26] but no certificates were to be received except such as had been issued for services or supplies during the war.

“The effect of this measure,” says Marshall, “was great and rapid. The public paper suddenly rose, and was for a short time above par. The immense wealth which individuals acquired by this unexpected appreciation could not be viewed with indifference. Those who participated in its advantages regarded the author of a system to which they were so greatly indebted, with an enthusiasm of attachment to which scarcely any limits were assigned. To many others, this adventitious collection of wealth in particular hands was a subject rather of chagrin than of pleasure; and the reputation which the success of his plans gave to the secretary of the treasury was not contemplated with unconcern.”

The discussions which Hamilton's report produced in and out of Congress, in the public press and in private circles, fearfully agitated the country, and called forth the first regular and systematic opposition to the principles on which the affairs of the Union were administered. In this discussion Washington was greatly interested, yet he avoided all semblance of participation in it. He heartily approved of Hamilton's plan for restoring the public credit and laying the foundation of national policy, as the most perfect that human wisdom had yet devised; but he concealed his opinions in his own breast, except when in private conversation with intimate friends. He looked with ineffable disgust upon the sectional jealousies which the discussion revealed; and in an able letter to Dr. Stuart, written toward the close of March, in reply to remarks of that gentleman concerning a spirit of jealousy in Virginia toward the eastern states, he spoke out warmly. The latter section of the Union had united in favor of Hamilton's scheme, while Virginia, for reasons already alluded to, opposed it. Stuart wrote: “It is represented that the northern phalanx is so firmly united as to bear down all opposition, while Virginia is unsupported even by those whose interests are similar to hers.[27] Colonel Lee tells me that many who were warm supporters of the government are changing their sentiments, from a conviction of the impracticability of union with states, whose interests are so dissimilar to those of Virginia.”

“I am sorry such jealousies as you speak of should be gaining ground, or are poisoning the minds of the southern people,” Washington wrote in reply. “But admit the fact, which is alleged as the cause of them, and give it full scope—does it amount to more than was known to every man of information before, at, and since the adoption of the constitution? Was it not always believed that there are some points which peculiarly interest the eastern states? And did any one who reads human nature, and more especially the character of the eastern people, conceive that they would not pursue them steadily by a combination of their force? Are there not other points which equally concern the southern states? If these states are less tenacious of their interest, or if, whilst the eastern move in a solid phalanx to effect their views, the southern are always divided, which of the two is most to be blamed? That there is a diversity of interests in the Union none have denied; that this is the case also in every state is equally certain; and that it even extends to the counties of individual states can be as readily proved. Instance the southern and northern parts of Virginia, the upper and lower parts of South Carolina. Have not the interests of these always been at variance? Witness the county of Fairfax. Have not the interests of the people of that county varied, or the inhabitants been taught to believe so? These are well-known truths; and yet, it did not follow that separation was to result from the disagreement.

“To constitute a dispute there must be two parties. To understand it well, both parties and all the circumstances must be fully heard; and, to accommodate differences, temper and mutual forbearance are requisite. Common danger brought the states into confederacy, and on their union our safety and importance depend. A spirit of accommodation was the basis of the present constitution. Can it be expected, then, that the southern or eastern parts of the empire will succeed in all their measures? Certainly not. But I will readily grant that more points will be carried by the latter than the former, and for the reason which has been mentioned, namely, that in all great national questions they move in unison, whilst the others are divided. But I ask, again, which is most blameworthy—those who see, and will steadily pursue their interest, or those who can not see, or seeing will not act wisely? And I will ask another question, of the highest magnitude in my mind, to wit: if the eastern and northern states are dangerous in union, will they be less so in separation? If self-interest is their governing principle, will it forsake them, or be restrained by such an event? I hardly think it would. Then, independently of other considerations, what would Virginia, and such other states as might be inclined to join her, gain by a separation? Would they not, most unquestionably, be the weaker party?”

FOOTNOTES:

[25] The following is the record:—

“According to appointment, at eleven o'clock I set out for the city-hall in my coach, preceded by Colonel Humphreys and Major Jackson in uniform (on my two white horses), and followed by Messrs. Lear and Nelson in my chariot, and Mr. Lewis, on horseback, following them. In their rear were the chief justice of the United States, and secretary of the treasury and war departments, in their respective carriages, and in the order they are named. At the outer door of the hall I was met by the doorkeepers of the senate and house, and conducted to the door of the senate chamber; and passing from thence to the chair through the senate on the right, and house of representatives on the left, I took my seat. The gentlemen who attended me followed and took their stand behind the senators, the whole rising as I entered. After being seated, at which time the members of both houses also sat I arose (as they also did) and made my speech, delivering one copy to the president of the senate, and another to the speaker of the house of representatives; after which, and being a few moments seated, I retired, bowing on each side to the assembly (who stood) as I passed, and descending to the lower hall, attended as before, I returned with them to my house.”

[26] The following were the amounts: New Hampshire, $300,000; Massachusetts, $4,000,000; Rhode Island, $200,000; Connecticut, $1,600,000; New York, $1,200,000; New Jersey, $800,000; Pennsylvania, $2,200,000; Delaware, $200,000; Maryland, $800,000; Virginia, $3,000,000; North Carolina, $2,400,000; South Carolina, $4,000,000; Georgia, $300,000.

[27] South Carolina joined New England in favor of Hamilton's scheme.

CHAPTER XIII.

TOP

arrival of jefferson at the seat of government—his republicanism shocked—monarchical sentiments entertained by some—hamilton induces jefferson to support his financial measures—location of the seat of government agreed upon—jefferson's suspicions—his dislike of hamilton—washington unsuspicious of dissention in his cabinet—birth of the federal and republican parties—slavery and the slave-trade discussed—the result—difficulties with the indian tribes—negotiations and war—relations with great britain and spain—secret service—gouverneur morris and major beckwith.

After a tedious journey of a fortnight from Richmond, Mr. Jefferson arrived at the seat of government on the twenty-first of March, when the debate on the assumption of the state debts was at its bitterest point. He had returned to America after several years of diplomatic service in France, with a sincere desire to spend the remainder of his days in private life. But he was met at the house of his brother-in-law, on his way from Norfolk (where he landed) to his home at Monticello, by Washington's letter, already mentioned, inviting him to his cabinet as secretary of state. The diplomat was disappointed. He had seen, and in a degree had participated in, the opening act in the drama of the French revolution. He had, as we have observed, become deeply enamored of the leaders in the revolt, and the political sentiments they had proclaimed; and he preferred to remain in France, if he was to be continued in public employment. But the terms of Washington's invitation were such, that Jefferson's sense of duty and reverence for the president would not allow him to refuse, and after due deliberation he accepted the office.

On his arrival at New York, Jefferson found many things to surprise and startle him. A wonderful change had apparently taken place in political life during his residence in Europe; and being thoroughly imbued with republican principles and a deep-seated hatred of monarchy, his suspicions and jealousies were most painfully alive. He saw dangers to the state lurking in every recess where the full light of clear perceptions did not fall. “I found a state of things,” he wrote some years afterward, “which, of all I had contemplated, I least expected. I had left France in the first year of her revolution, in the fervor of natural rights and zeal for reformation. My conscientious devotion to these rights could not be heightened, but it had been aroused and excited by daily exercise. The president received me cordially, and my colleagues and circle of principal citizens apparently with welcome. The courtesies of dinner-parties given me, as a stranger newly arrived among them, placed me at once in their familiar society. But I can not describe the wonder and mortification with which the table conversations filled me. Politics were the chief topic, and a preference of kingly over republican government was evidently the favorite sentiment. An apostate I could not be, nor yet a hypocrite; and I found myself, for the most part, the only advocate on the republican side of the question, unless among the guests there chanced to be some member of that party from the legislative houses.”

That there were men of character in the United States at that time who desired a monarchical form of government, evidence is not wanting. Some of them had been loyalists during the war. Washington spoke of them in 1787, before the assembling of the convention that framed the federal constitution, as men who either had “not consulted the public mind,” or who lived “in a region more productive of monarchical ideas than was the case in the southern states.” But that any officer of the government, on Jefferson's arrival, had a desire for kingly rule, there is no positive evidence. The most earnest advocate for a strong, energetic, consolidated government, was Alexander Hamilton; yet he never expressed a desire for a monarchical government in America. In his speech in the constitutional convention on the eighteenth of June, 1787, he lauded the British constitution as the best ever devised by man, and said that he doubted whether anything short of a government like that of Great Britain (a constitutional monarchy) would do in America. These sentiments were uttered when everything like order appeared to be on the verge of destruction, and a strong arm, independent of the popular will, seemed necessary for the establishment of public strength and individual security. The crisis was passed, the federal constitution was formed, and Hamilton gave it his zealous support. Yet, to the close of his life, he considered the constitution too weak to perform the great duties assigned it.

Hamilton was always frank and unreserved in the expression of his political views; and immediately after Jefferson's arrival at the seat of government, the secretary of the treasury pressed upon his attention the importance of the assumption of the state debts—a measure which had been rejected. “He observed,” says Jefferson in his account of the matter, “that the members of the administration ought to act in concert; that though this question was not of my department, yet a common duty should make it a common concern; that the president was the centre on which all administrative questions ultimately rested; that, the question having been lost by a small majority only, it was probable that an appeal from me to the judgment and discretion of some of my friends might effect a change in the vote, and the machinery of government, now suspended, might be again set in motion.”

To this Jefferson replied that he was a stranger to the whole matter; that if the rejection of the proposition really, as Hamilton alleged, endangered the Union, it was important to reconsider it; and then proposed that the secretary of the treasury should meet two or three friends at table the next day to discuss the subject. The dinner and the discussion took place; and it was “finally agreed,” says Jefferson, “that whatever importance had been attached to the rejection of this proposition, the preservation of the Union and of concord among the states was more important, and that therefore it would be better that the vote of rejection should be rescinded, to effect which, some members should change their votes.”

At that time the question, Where shall the seat of the federal government be permanently located? was a subject of violent contest, the people in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, wishing it to be in their respective states. Debates had run high upon the subject in Congress, and the public press had discussed it vigorously. It being observed at Jefferson's dinner-party that a reconsideration of the assumption bill, and its adoption, would be “a bitter pill” to the southern states, it was proposed that “some concomitant measure should be adopted to sweeten it a little to them.” The location of the seat of government was chosen as the soother. The contest had narrowed, geographically, so that it lay between Philadelphia on the Delaware and Georgetown on the Potomac. It was proposed to give it to Philadelphia for ten years, and to Georgetown permanently thereafter, believing that “that might, as an anodyne, calm in some degree the ferment which might be excited by the other measure alone.” “Two of the Potomac members agreed to change their votes,” says Jefferson, “and Hamilton undertook to carry the other point. In doing this, the influence he had established over the eastern members, with the agency of Robert Morris with those of the middle states, effected his side of the engagement.” The assumption bill was carried, and the location of the seat of government was settled. Congress agreed to make Philadelphia its residence for ten years, during which time the public buildings should be erected at some point on the Potomac that the president might select. Subsequently a territory ten miles square, lying on both sides of the Potomac in Maryland and Virginia, was ceded by those states to the United States, and called the district of Columbia. Thus the matter was settled.

When Jefferson's sensitive republicanism took the alarm to which we have alluded, he became suspicious of all around him. His feelings toward Hamilton changed, until he considered him a monarchist in principle, and regarded all his financial schemes as intended to strengthen the general government, centralize power, and make the treasury the controlling lever of public affairs, the chief of which, with almost autocratic puissance, might direct everything to suit his own political views. With this impression, retrospection made him angry and resentful. He regarded the manner in which Hamilton had procured his aid in effecting the measure of assumption as a snare by which he had been entrapped, and he characterized the measure itself as a fiscal manœuvre, to which he had “ignorantly and innocently been made to hold the candle.”

This was the beginning of those dissentions in his cabinet which afterward gave the president so much trouble. They had grown to mischievous proportions at a time when he believed there was perfect harmony among his constitutional advisers. He had never experienced the sentiment of jealousy himself, and he was the last man to suspect it in others; and at the time when Jefferson and Hamilton were regarding each other with a spirit of rivalry, Washington wrote to Lafayette, saying: “Many of your old acquaintances and friends are concerned with me in the administration of this government. By having Mr. Jefferson at the head of the department of state, Mr. Jay of the judiciary, Hamilton of the treasury, and Knox of war, I feel myself supported by able coadjutors who harmonize extremely well.”

Out of the rivalry between Jefferson and Hamilton, and the conflict of their opinions respecting the national jurisprudence and French politics, grew the two political parties known respectively, for about twenty years, as Federal and Republican. We shall observe that growth as we progress in our narrative.

While Congress and the nation were agitated by discussions concerning the public debt, another topic elicited a still more exciting discussion: it was African slavery and the slave-trade. Slavery then existed in all the states of the Union except Massachusetts, in whose constitution a clause had been inserted for the purpose of tacitly abolishing the system from the commonwealth. Pennsylvania had adopted measures with the same view, and had been imitated by Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire. New York, New Jersey, Delaware, and Maryland, had prohibited the further importation of slaves; and in Virginia and Maryland restrictions upon emancipation had been repealed. A desire to get rid of the system appeared to prevail throughout the Union. The Presbyteries of New York and Pennsylvania, composing a united synod, had constituted themselves as the general assembly of the Presbyterian church in America; and that representative body issued a pastoral letter in 1788, in which they strongly recommended the abolition of slavery, and the instruction of negroes in letters and religion. The Methodist church, then rising into notice, even refused slaveholders a place in their communion; and the Quakers had made opposition to slavery a part of their discipline. In these benevolent movements Washington sympathized; for he desired to see the system extinguished by some just method.

It was only a few days after the commencement of the debate on the public debt, that a petition from the yearly meeting of the Quakers of Pennsylvania and Delaware, with another from that of New York, was laid before the house of representatives. A motion for reference to a special committee caused a warm debate, and some of those who opposed its reception spoke sneeringly of “the men in the gallery,” who were the Quaker deputation appointed to look after the petition.[28] It was laid upon the table that day; and at the opening of the session on the following morning, another petition on the same subject, from the Pennsylvania society for the abolition of slavery, was presented. It was signed by Benjamin Franklin (president of the society), then in the last weeks of his life. The petition was read, and then the Quaker memorial was called up. The excitement in the house was very great. The movement was denominated an improper interference with state rights, or at least an act of imprudence; and Judge Burke, of South Carolina, declared that if these memorials were entertained by commitment, the act would “sound an alarm and blow the trumpet of sedition through the southern states.”

The question was mainly a constitutional one, but the debates took great latitude. It was finally agreed to commit the memorials, by a vote of forty-three to eleven. They were referred to a committee consisting of one member from each of the states of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia.

A month afterward, that committee reported seven resolutions: first, that the general government was expressly restrained from prohibiting the carrying on of the slave-trade until the year 1808; second, that by a fair construction of the constitution, Congress was equally restrained from interfering with slavery, in the matter of emancipation, in the several states; third, that Congress had no power to interfere in the internal regulations of slavery in the several states; fourth, that Congress had the right, by virtue of the revenue laws, to levy a tax of ten dollars upon every person imported as property under the special permission of any of the states; fifth, that Congress had power to regulate or to interdict the African slave-trade, carried on by citizens of the United States for the supply of foreign countries; sixth, that Congress had the right to prohibit foreigners from fitting out vessels in the United States, to be employed in the supply of foreign countries with slaves from Africa; seventh, that Congress would exercise their authority to its full extent, to promote the humane objects set forth in the memorial of the Quakers.

This report called forth zealous and sometimes angry debates for a whole week, when it was finally agreed, at the suggestion of Fisher Ames, seconded by Madison and others, by a vote of twenty-nine to twenty-five, to enter the report at length upon the journal of the house, where it might be consulted in the future, and to take no further action. Thus ended the first agitation of the still pending “slavery question” in Congress. In a letter to Doctor Stuart, in June, referring to a complaint of the tardiness of Congress, Washington remarked: “The introduction of the Quaker memorial respecting slavery was, to be sure, not only ill-timed, but occasioned a great waste of time. The final decision thereon, however, was as favorable as the proprietors of this species of property could well have expected, considering the light in which slavery is viewed by a large part of this Union.”

While topics of a domestic nature agitated the public mind and occupied the attention of the national legislature, the foreign relations of the government (in which expression may be included the relations with hostile Indian tribes) were far from satisfactory. We have already alluded to the hostile attitude of some of the tribes in the northwest and southwest, among whom it was suspected British emissaries were at work. Those of the southwest, especially the Creek nation, had been in a disturbed state for some time, and difficulties with the authorities of Georgia had caused an open rupture a little earlier than the period in question. The Creeks were governed by an accomplished chief, Alexander M'Gillivray, the son of a loyalist Scotchman, of that name, and a Creek woman of a leading family. He had been well educated, and his father designed him for commercial pursuits. He loved study more than ledgers; and his father owning large possessions in Georgia, the young man looked forward to wealth and social position. But the revolution swept all away. His father's property was confiscated, and young M'Gillivray took refuge with the Creeks, his heart filled with hatred of the republicans. He was brave, fluent in speech, popular with the leading men, and soon rose to the rank of head chief; and no doubt he stirred up his nation to assume an attitude hostile to the Americans.

The Creeks, with M'Gillivray at their head, had also established a close alliance with the Spaniards, who held possession of Florida. The Spanish governor of that province courted the young half-blood chief, and he was honored with a colonelcy in the military service of Spain. Through the Spaniards, the Creeks could readily obtain arms and ammunition in exchange for their furs; and thus, in point of strength, they were the most formidable enemies to the United States among the Indian nations.

Good policy caused the United States government to send commissioners to treat with the Creeks; and in the autumn of 1789, General Lincoln, Colonel Humphries, and David Griffin—a commission appointed by Washington—met deputies of that confederacy on the Oconee, to hold a treaty. M'Gillivray was at the head of the deputation. He received the American commissioners kindly, and expressed a desire for friendship; but when he found that they did not propose to restore to the Creeks their lands about which they had disputed with the Georgians, he abruptly ended the conference, promising, however, to remain peaceable until further negotiations could be had.

In March, 1790, Washington despatched Colonel Marinus Willett on a new mission to the Creeks. He succeeded in persuading M'Gillivray to go to New York, to carry on negotiations there. Attended by twenty-eight sachems, chiefs, and warriors, he arrived at the federal capital on the twenty-third of June, having been received with much attention at the principal towns on the line of his journey. The members of the Tammany society of New York, arrayed in Indian costume, escorted M'Gillivray and his party into the city; and the Creek chief, being the son of a Scotchman, was made an honorary member of the St. Andrew's society.

These attentions, and the gracious manner in which he was received by the president, made a deep impression on M'Gillivray's mind. General Knox, the secretary of war, was appointed to negotiate with him. A satisfactory treaty, founded upon mutual concessions, was made; and one of the last acts of Washington during the second session of the first Congress was the approval of that treaty. It was signed by the contracting parties on the seventh of August, and was ratified on the thirteenth, the day after Congress adjourned.

Meanwhile, the aspect of Indian affairs in the country northwest of the Ohio, into which a stream of emigration was rapidly flowing, claimed the serious consideration of the government. A territorial government for that region had been ordained in 1787, and the domain was called the northwest territory. General Arthur St. Clair was appointed governor. As we have observed, the Indians in that vicinity had shown much hostility to the Americans ever since the close of the Revolution. They were encouraged by Sir John Johnson, then Indian agent on that frontier, and by Sir Guy Carleton, who was again governor of Canada, to insist upon re-establishing the Ohio as the Indian boundary. They swarmed upon the banks of that river, waylaid the boats of emigrants, and even crossed the stream and made incursions into Kentucky, to attack frontier stations there. The president was convinced, by long experience with the Indians, that on the failure of negotiations with them, sound policy and true economy, not less than humanity, required the immediate employment of force, which should go as a scourge into the very heart of their country. Such were now the relations between the northwestern tribes and the United States; and in the autumn, a military force eleven hundred strong, under the command of General Harmer, was directed by the president to march against the Miami village on the Scioto, where Chilicothe now stands. After some successes and defeats the Americans withdrew, and the Indians became more insolent and bold.

At this time a general European war appeared inevitable. A long-pending controversy between Spain and Great Britain remained unsettled. It was believed that France would side with Spain; and it was thought to be a favorable time for the United States to press upon Great Britain the necessity of complying with the yet unfulfilled articles of the treaty of 1783. Accordingly, as early as January, 1790, Gouverneur Morris, then in Paris, was commissioned by Washington to proceed to London, as private agent of the United States, to sound the British ministry on the subject. At that time there was no diplomatic intercourse between the United States and Great Britain. Mr. Adams had returned home, and the court of St. James had never sent a minister to the United States. Morris opened a communication with the English minister for foreign affairs, but was unable to make much satisfactory progress for some time. As late as the first of July, Washington made the following record in his diary:

“Having put into the hands of the vice president of the United States the communication of Mr. Gouverneur Morris, who had been empowered to make informal inquiries how well disposed the British ministry might be to enter into commercial relations with the United States, and to fulfil the articles of peace respecting our western posts, and the slaves which had been carried from this country, he expressed his approbation that this step had been taken, and added that the disinclination of the British cabinet to comply with the two latter and to evade the former, as evidently appears from the correspondence of Mr. Morris with the duke of Leeds (the British minister for foreign affairs), was of a piece with their conduct toward him whilst minister at that court, and just what he expected, and that to have it ascertained was necessary.

“He thought, as a rupture between England and Spain was almost inevitable, that it would be our policy and interest to take part with the latter, as he was very apprehensive that New Orleans was an object with the former of their possessing, which would be very injurious to us; but he observed, at the same time, that the situation of our affairs would not justify the measure, unless the people [of the United States] themselves should take the lead in the business.”

This was also considered a favorable time for the United States to urge upon Spain their claims to the free navigation of the Mississippi river. Mr. Carmichael, the American chargé d'affaires at the court of Madrid, was instructed not only to press this point with earnestness, but to use his best endeavors to secure the unmolested use of that river in future, by obtaining a cession of the island of New Orleans and of the Floridas, offering as an equivalent the sincere friendship of the United States, by which the territories of Spain west of the Mississippi might be secured to that government.

Evidence was not wanting that Great Britain apprehended an alliance of the United States with Spain in the war that seemed to be impending; and also that, in the event of war, the arms of Great Britain would be directed against the Spanish settlements in America, to the disadvantage of the United States. Sir Guy Carleton (now Lord Dorchester) was continued in the government of Canada. He had asked leave to pass through New York on his way to England. It was readily granted. And now, under the pretext of making a formal acknowledgment for the contest, he despatched his aid-de-camp, Major Beckwith, to sound the American government, and ascertain, if possible, its disposition toward the two disputing nations.

Major Beckwith first approached Hamilton, the secretary of the treasury. After acknowledging the courtesy of the United States government in offering to comply with the wishes of Lord Dorchester, he observed that the prospect of a war between Great Britain and Spain would prevent or defer his lordship's departure for England.

“He next proceeded to observe,” says Hamilton in his written report of the interview which he laid before the president, “that Lord Dorchester had been informed of a negotiation commenced on the other side of the water, through the agency of Mr. Morris; mentioning, as the subscriber understood principally by way of proof of Lord Dorchester's knowledge of the transaction, that Mr. Morris had not produced any regular credentials, but merely a letter from the president directed to himself; that some delays had intervened, partly on account of Mr. Morris's absence on a trip to Holland, as was understood, and that it was not improbable these delays and some other circumstances may have impressed Mr. Morris with an idea of backwardness on the part of the British ministry. That his lordship, however, had directed him to say that an inference of this sort would not, in his opinion, be well founded, as he had reason to believe that the cabinet of Great Britain entertained a disposition, not only toward a friendly intercourse, but toward an alliance with the United States.”

“Major Beckwith then proceeded to speak of the particular cause of the expected rupture between Spain and Great Britain, observing it was one in which all commercial nations must be supposed to favor the views of Great Britain. That it was therefore presumed, should a war take place, that the United States would find it to their interest to take part with Great Britain rather than with Spain.”

Major Beckwith then, in the name of Lord Dorchester, disclaimed any influence, under the sanction of British authorities, over the western tribes, unfavorable to the interests of the citizens of the United States; and concluded by producing a letter signed by Dorchester, which contained sentiments similar to those expressed by the bearer, with an assurance that “his lordship knew too well the consequences of such a step, to have taken it without a previous knowledge of the intentions of the cabinet.”

Washington's impression of this semi-official overture from Great Britain is expressed in the following record in his diary on the eighth of July: “The aspect of this business, in the moment of its communication to me, appeared simply and no other than this: 'We did not incline to give any satisfactory answer to Mr. Morris, who was officially commissioned to ascertain our intentions with respect to the evacuation of the western posts within the territory of the United States, and other matters, until by this unauthenticated mode we can discover whether you will enter into an alliance with us, and make common cause against Spain. In that case we will enter into a commercial treaty with you, and promise perhaps to fulfil what we already stand engaged to perform.'”

The president referred the matter to his cabinet, with a request that they would give it their serious consideration. They did so; and on the fourteenth it was agreed to treat Beckwith's communications very civilly—to intimate, delicately, that they carried no marks official or authentic; nor, in speaking of alliance, did they convey any definite meaning by which the precise object of the British cabinet could be discovered. “In a word,” says Washington in his diary, “that the secretary of the treasury was to extract as much as he could from Major Beckwith, and to report to me, without committing, by any assurances whatever, the government of the United States, leaving it entirely free to pursue, unreproached, such a line of conduct in the dispute as her interest and honor shall dictate.”

It was evident that the British government were willing that their relations with the United States should remain unchanged, until they should perceive what course European affairs were likely to take. For about nine months Morris remained in London, endeavoring to accomplish the objects of his mission; but, at the end of that time, the views of the British government, on all the main topics of discussion, were as much hidden in a cloud of uncertainty as when he first presented Washington's letter to the duke of Leeds, as his credentials. The powers given to Mr. Morris were withdrawn; because, to further press the subject of a commercial treaty, or the exchange of ministers, or the evacuation of the western posts, on the part of the United States, would be useless and dishonorable; and it was resolved to pause in action until the government had become strong enough to speak in decisive tones, and prepare to maintain words with works.

Finding the French government, then embarrassed by its own internal difficulties, disinclined to take part in the quarrel with Great Britain, Spain, unable alone to cope with her foe, yielded every point in the controversy, and the dispute was settled.

FOOTNOTES:

[28] In his diary under date of March the sixteenth, 1790, Washington recorded: “Exercised on horseback, between ten and twelve o'clock; previous to this, I was visited (having given permission) by Mr. Warner Mifflin, one of the people called Quakers, active in pursuit of the measures laid before Congress for emancipating the slaves. After much general conversation, and an endeavor to remove the prejudices which, he said, had been entertained of the motives by which the attending deputations from their society were actuated, he used arguments to show the immorality, injustice, and impolicy of keeping these people in a state of slavery; with declarations, however, that he did not wish for more than a gradual abolition, or to see any infraction of the constitution to effect it. To these I replied, that as it was a matter which might come before me for official decision, I was not inclined to express any sentiments on the merits of the question before this should happen.”

CHAPTER XIV.

TOP

adjournment of congress—washington's opinion of their conduct—his public labors—tour on long island—severe illness of the president—voyage to rhode island—in retirement at mount vernon—lafayette's position—key of the bastile presented to washington—washington's hopes for the future of the united states—his neutral policy foreshadowed—indian war in the west.

Congress adjourned on the twelfth of August, after a session of about seven months, during which time questions of great importance had been met, discussed, and settled; not always, it must be confessed, in a conciliatory spirit. In a partial defense of the national legislature, in a letter to Doctor Stuart, Washington remarked: “I do not mean, however, from what I have here said, to justify the conduct of Congress in all these movements; for some of their movements, in my opinion, have been injudicious, and others unseasonable; whilst the questions of assumption, residence, and other matters, have been agitated with a warmth and intemperance, with prolixity and threats, which, it is to be feared, have lessened the dignity of that body, and decreased that respect which was once entertained for it. And this misfortune is increased by many members, even among those who wish well to the government, ascribing in letters to their respective states, when they are defeated in a favorite measure, the worst motives for the conduct of their opponents, who, viewing matters through another medium, may and do retort in their turn; by which means jealousies and distrusts are spread most impolitically far and wide, and will, it is to be feared, have a most unhappy tendency to injure our public affairs, which, if wisely managed, might make us, as we are now by Europeans thought to be, the happiest people upon earth.”

The session just closed had been a season of great labor for the president. The cares of state had been many and important, and the affairs of France had occupied much of his attention. Some days his application to public business was so continuous, from early morning until evening, that he omitted his usual exercise in the open air. He managed, however, to make a tour of four days, in his carriage, upon Long Island. He travelled eastward as far as Huntington, making (as appears by his diary) careful observations of the country and its resources. He proceeded from Brooklyn, through Flatbush and New Utrecht, to Gravesend, on the extreme western point of the island, and then eastward to Jamaica by the middle road. From Jamaica he journeyed to South Hempstead, and then to Hart's tavern in Brookhaven, from which place he struck across toward the north shore of the island by Coram to Setauket. On the third day of his journey (April the twenty-third) he went through Smithstown to Huntington, where he dined; and then turning westward, he drove to Oyster bay and lodged. Early the following morning he passed through Mosquito cove, and breakfasted at Hendrick Onderdonk's, at the head of a bay, the site of the present village of Roslyn, or Hempstead harbor. He dined at Flushing, reached Brooklyn ferry before sunset, and home at twilight.

Incessant application to business made severe inroads upon the health of the president, and on the tenth of May he was seized with a severe illness, which reduced him to the verge of dissolution. He was confined to his chamber for several weeks, and it was not until the twenty-fourth of June that he was able to resume his diary. His chief difficulty was inflammation of the lungs, and he suffered from general debility until the close of the session of Congress in August. Then, accompanied by Jefferson, he made a voyage to Newport, Rhode Island, especially for the benefit of his health, and incidentally to have personal intercourse with the leading inhabitants there, he having, as we have observed, avoided the soil of Rhode Island when on his eastern tour, that state not then being a member of the Union. It had recently entered by adopting the federal constitution.

The sea-voyage was beneficial to the health of the president; and soon after his return, at the close of August, he set out with his family for Mount Vernon, there to seek repose from the turmoil of public life, and the sweet recreation which he always experienced in the midst of agricultural employments in that happy retreat. He carried with him to Mount Vernon a curious present which he received from his friend Lafayette, just before the adjournment of Congress. It was the ponderous iron key of the Bastile—that old fortress of despotism in Paris which the populace of that city captured the year before, and which had been levelled to the ground by order of the marquis, who was still at the head of the revolution in France.

Washington had watched the course of his friend with great anxiety; for he loved the marquis as a brother. The career upon which he had entered was a most difficult and perilous one. “Never has any man been placed in a more critical situation,” the Marquis de Luzerne wrote to Washington. “A good citizen, a faithful subject, he is embarrassed by a thousand difficulties in making many people sensible of what is proper, who very often feel it not, and who sometimes do not understand what it is.”

“He acts now a splendid but dangerous part,” wrote Gouverneur Morris. Lafayette himself felt the perils of his position. “How often, my well-beloved general,” he wrote to Washington early in the year, “have I regretted your sage counsels and friendly support. We have advanced in the career of the revolution without the vessel of state being wrecked against the rocks of aristocracy or faction.... At present, that which existed has been destroyed; a new political edifice is forming; without being perfect, it is sufficient to assure liberty. Thus prepared, the nation will be in a state to elect in two years a convention which can correct the faults of the constitution.” Alas! those two years had scarcely passed away before the hopeful champion of freedom was a prisoner, far away from his home, in an Austrian dungeon. But we will not anticipate.

Two months later, Lafayette wrote a most hopeful letter to Washington. “Our revolution,” he said, “pursues its march as happily as is possible with a nation which, receiving at once all its liberties, is yet subject to confound them with licentiousness.” He then spoke of the hinderances to speedy success in the establishment of a sound republican government, and said: “After having avowed all this, my dear general, I will tell you, with the same frankness, that we have made an admirable and almost incredible destruction of all the abuses, of all the prejudices; that all which was not useful to the people—all which did not come from them—has been retrenched; that, in considering the situation, topographical, moral, and political, of France, we have effected more changes in ten months than the most presumptive patriots could have hoped, and that the reports about our anarchy, our internal troubles, are greatly exaggerated.”

In conclusion, the marquis said: “Permit me, my dear general, to offer you a picture representing the Bastile, such as it was some days after I had given orders for its demolition, with the main key of the fortress of despotism. It is a tribute which I owe as a son to an adopted father—as an aid-de-camp to my general—as a missionary of liberty to its patriarch.”

The picture and key were placed in the hands of Thomas Paine, then in London, who was intending soon to visit the United States. His destination was changed to France, and after considerable delay he forwarded the precious mementoes, with a letter, in which he said:—

“I feel myself happy in being the person through whom the marquis has conveyed this early trophy of the spoils of despotism, and the first ripe fruit of American principles transplanted into Europe, to his great master and patron. When he mentioned to me the present he intended for you, my heart leaped with joy.... That the principles of America opened the Bastile is not to be doubted, and therefore the key comes to the right place.”

On the receipt of these presents early in August, Washington wrote to Lafayette, saying: “I have received your affectionate letter of the seventeenth of March by one conveyance, and the token of the victory gained by liberty over despotism by another; for both which testimonials of your friendship and regard, I pray you to accept my sincerest thanks. In this great subject of triumph for the new world and for humanity in general, it will never be forgotten how conspicuous a part you bore, and how much lustre you reflected on a country in which you made the first displays of your character.”

Referring in the same letter to the treaty which had been concluded with the Creeks, he said: “This event will leave us at peace from one end of our borders to the other, except when it may be interrupted by a small refugee banditti of Cherokees and Shawnees, who can be easily chastised, or even extirpated, if it shall become necessary.” He then added:—

“Gradually recovering from the distress in which the war left us, patiently advancing in our task of civil government, unentangled in the crooked politics of Europe, wanting scarcely anything but the free navigation of the Mississippi (which we must have, and as certainly shall have as we remain a nation), I have supposed that, with the undeviating exercise of a just, steady, and prudent national policy, we shall be the gainers, whether the powers of the old world may be in peace or war, but more especially in the latter case. In that case, our importance will certainly increase, and our friendship will be coveted.” The last clause foreshadows that neutral policy which Washington assumed for the government of the United States at a little later period, when great efforts were made to involve it in the meshes of European politics, by active sympathy with the democratic movements in France.

Rest at Mount Vernon was grateful to the wearied chief of the republic. Yet it was not absolute repose. As a conscientious public servant; as the chief officer of a government yet in a comparatively formative state, and charged with the highest trusts that can be committed to mortal man, he felt most sensibly the care of state, even in his quiet home on the banks of the Potomac. One subject, in particular, filled him with anxiety. He had ordered the chastisement of the Indians in the Ohio country, and troops had gone thither for the purpose. He had deprecated a war with the deluded savages, but good policy appeared to demand it; and on the thirtieth of September an expedition set out from Fort Washington, where the city of Cincinnati now stands, under General Harmer, a veteran of the Revolution. But from that time until his arrival in Philadelphia, at the close of November, Washington remained in profound ignorance of the operations or the fate of the expedition. On the second of November he wrote to General Knox, the secretary of war, expressing his surprise that no information of the expedition had been received, and saying: “This, in my opinion, is an undertaking of a very serious nature. I am not a little anxious to know the result of it.... This matter, favorable or otherwise in the issue, will require to be laid before the Congress, that the motives which induced the expedition may appear.”

On his arrival in Philadelphia, Washington received a letter from Governor Clinton, of New York, giving an account of Harmer's ill success against the Indians, reported by Captain Brant, the celebrated Mohawk warrior of the Revolution. “If this information of Captain Brant be true,” Washington wrote to Clinton in reply, “the issue of the expedition against the Indians will indeed prove unfortunate and disgraceful to the troops, who suffered themselves to be ambuscaded.”

It was even so. The expedition, as we have already observed, failed in its efforts, and the savages took courage for future operations. An expensive war of four or five years' duration ensued.

CHAPTER XV.

TOP

seat of government at philadelphia—consequences of the removal—renting of the presidential mansion—washington's prudence and economy illustrated—the president and family in philadelphia—mrs. washington's receptions—gayety in the metropolis—washington and his public duties—his second annual message and its suggestions—hamilton's national bank scheme—opposition to it—a bank established—new tariff scheme adopted—excise law—establishment of a mint—indian affairs—st. clair appointed commander-in-chief in the northwest—adjournment of congress.

Philadelphia, as we have already observed, was chosen to be the residence of the federal government for ten years; and there, in the courthouse, on the first Monday in December, 1790, the first Congress assembled to hold their third session.

The removal of the seat of government from New York had caused much dissatisfaction in that quarter, while many Philadelphians experienced equal dissatisfaction, but for different reasons. Rents, prices of provisions, and other necessaries of life, greatly advanced. “Some of the blessings anticipated from the removal of Congress to this city are already beginning to be apparent,” wrote a Philadelphian. “Rents of houses have risen, and I fear will continue to rise shamefully; even in the outskirts they have lately been increased from fourteen, sixteen, and eighteen pounds, to twenty-five, twenty-eight, and thirty. This is oppression. Our markets, it is expected, will also be dearer than heretofore.”

Washington was subjected to considerable personal annoyance by the change. During the recess of Congress, he commissioned Mr. Lear, his private secretary, to rent a house for his use in Philadelphia. One owned by Robert Morris appeared to be the most eligible of all; but, for a long time, Washington could not procure an answer to his prudent question, “What will be the rent?” Both the state and city authorities, through committees, had offered to provide at their own expense a home for the president; but Washington declined the generous offer. He preferred the independence of a resident in his own hired house; and he was also convinced that the offer was made because of a desire to have Philadelphia become the permanent residence of the government. The erection of a presidential mansion would be an argument in favor of the scheme. Washington preferred a more southern location. He was to choose the spot. He wished to have his views unbiassed; so he refused all offers to lessen his expenses at the cost of the city of Philadelphia, or of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania.

Time after time Washington wrote to Lear about the rent of Morris's house. “He has most assuredly,” he said, “formed an idea of what ought to be the rent of the tenement in the condition he left it; and with this aid, the committee ought, I conceive, to be as little at a loss in determining what it should rent for, with the additions and alterations which are about to be made, and which ought to be done in a plain and neat, and not by any means extravagant, style.” He was satisfied that the committee were delaying with the intention of having the rent paid by the public; and he foresaw that he might be subjected to heavy bills of expense in fixing and furnishing the house in an extravagant manner.

“Let us for a moment suppose,” he said, “that the rooms (the new ones, I mean) were to be hung with tapestry, or a very rich and costly paper, neither of which would suit my present furniture; that costly ornaments for the bow-windows, extravagant chimney-pieces and the like, were to be provided; that workmen, from extravagance of the times, for every twenty shillings' worth of work would charge forty shillings; and that advantage would be taken of the occasion to newly paint every part of the house and buildings; would there be any propriety in adding ten or twelve-and-a-half per cent. for all this to the rent of the house in its original state, for the two years that I am to hold it? If the solution of these questions is in the negative, wherein lies the difficulty of determining that the houses and lots, when finished according to the proposed plan, ought to rent for so much? When all is done that can be done,” he added, “the residence will not be so commodious as that I left in New York, for there (and the want of it will be found a real inconvenience at Mr. Morris's) my office was in the front room below, where persons on business immediately entered; whereas, in the present case, they will have to ascend two pairs of stairs, and to pass by the public rooms as well as the private chambers, to get to it.”[29]

It must be remembered that Washington refused to receive a salary for his services as president of the United States, but stipulated that the amount of his expenses should be paid by the government. In regulating these expenses, he was as careful to avoid extravagance as if his private purse had to be drawn upon to pay. In New York he lived frugally,[30] and he resolved to continue, in Philadelphia, the same unostentatious way of living, not only on his own account, but for the benefit of those connected with the government who could not afford to spend more than their salaries. His example had a most salutary effect. An illustrative case may be cited. When Oliver Wolcott, of Connecticut, was appointed first auditor of the treasury, he, like a prudent man, would not accept the office until he could visit New York, and ascertain whether he could live upon the salary of fifteen hundred dollars a year. He came to the conclusion that he could live upon one thousand, and he wrote to his wife, saying: “The example of the president and his family will render parade and expense improper and disreputable.” What a significant commentary!

The rent of Morris's house was at last fixed at three thousand dollars a year; and on the twenty-second of November Washington set out for Philadelphia, accompanied by his family, in a chariot drawn by four horses. They were allowed to travel without parade, and on reaching Philadelphia, on the twenty-eighth, they found their house ready for their reception. Yet it was nearly a month before they were prepared to receive company. Mrs. Washington's first levee or reception in Philadelphia was on Friday, the twenty-fifth of December, where, according to eye-witnesses, there was an assemblage of “the most brilliant, beautiful, well-dressed, and well educated women that had ever been seen in America.”

The season opened gayly. “I should spend a very dissipated winter,” wrote the vice-president's wife to a friend, “if I were to accept one half the invitations I receive, particularly to the routs, or tea-and-cards.” The city, for a few weeks after the assembling of Congress, appeared to be intoxicated. But Washington and his wife were proof against the song of the syren. They could not be seduced from their temperate habits in eating, drinking, and sleeping, by the scenes of immoderate pleasure around them. They held their respective levees on Tuesdays and Fridays, as in New York, without the least ostentation; and Congressional and official dinners were served in a plain way, without any extravagant displays of plate, ornament, or variety of dishes. Mrs. Washington's levees always closed at nine o'clock. When the great clock in the hall struck that hour, she would say to those present, with a complacent smile, “The general always retires at nine, and I usually precede him.” In a few minutes the drawing-room would be closed, the lights extinguished, and the presidential mansion would be as dark and quiet before ten o'clock as the house of any private citizen.

Washington entered upon his public duties with great energy on his arrival in Philadelphia. His health was almost perfectly restored, and subjects of profound interest demanded the attention of Congress. That body assembled on the sixth of December, and on the eighth, in the presence of both houses sitting in the senate-chamber, the president delivered, in person, his second annual message. He opened by congratulating Congress on the financial prosperity of the country, the import duties having produced, in a little more than thirteen months, the sum of one million, nine hundred thousand dollars. He had without difficulty obtained a loan in Holland for the partial liquidation of the foreign debt; and, in consequence of the increasing confidence in the government, certificates of the domestic debt had greatly increased in value. He informed them that Kentucky was about to ask for admission into the Union as a sovereign state. He called their attention to the Indian war commenced in the northwestern territory; and after some allusion to the disturbed state of Europe, growing out of recent events in France, he suggested measures for the protection of American commerce in the Mediterranean sea, where it was continually exposed to the depredations of corsairs of the Barbary powers.

He called their attention to regulations concerning the consular system that had been proposed and partially established; to the creation of a mint, the right of coinage being delegated to the federal government alone; to a uniform system of weights and measures; to a reorganization of the post-office system, and a uniform militia.

The two most important measures brought forward at the beginning of the session were, a plan for a national bank, and a tax on ardent spirits distilled within the United States. In a former communication to Congress, the secretary of the treasury recommended the establishment of a national bank, as a useful instrument in the management of the finances of the country; and now, at the opening of a new session, he presented a special report, in which the policy of such a measure was urged with Hamilton's usual strength and acuteness of logic. He argued upon premises resting on the alleged facilities afforded to trade by banks, and the great benefits to be expected from a national one in a commercial point of view. He chiefly dwelt upon the topic of the convenience to the government of a paper medium in which to conduct its monetary transactions, and especially as a ready resource for such temporary loans as might from time to time be required.

Such reasons, utterly without force in the light of subsequent experience, were wise and important at that time, and commended themselves to the people of the United States, because they had not forgotten the convenience afforded by the bank of North America, established by Robert Morris in 1781, chiefly for the purpose of assistance to himself in the difficult office of superintendent of finance. That was the first experiment in America in the issue of a currency redeemable at sight—a promissory note payable on demand—which had been the practice of the bank of England for nearly a hundred years. It was a system so much superior to the colonial loan-office plans, and the scheme upon which the continental paper-money had been issued during the earlier years of the war for independence, that the people generally received Hamilton's recommendation with favor. But it met with determined opposition in Congress. The anti-federal feeling which from the close of 1789 had manifested itself, principally in criticisms upon the federal constitution, now assumed the shape of a party opposed to the financial policy of the administration. At the head of this opposition was Mr. Jefferson, the secretary of state; and the herald's trumpet for the tilt was sounded by the Virginia assembly, in the adoption of a resolution, declaring so much of the late act of Congress as provided for the assumption of the state debts “repugnant to the constitution of the United States,” and “the exercise of a power not expressly granted to the general government.” That clause of the act for funding the continental debt, which restrained the government from redeeming at pleasure any part of that debt, was denounced as “dangerous to the rights, and subversive of the interests, of the people.”

The bank project encountered very little opposition in the senate, where the bill originated; but in the house it was assailed vehemently, chiefly on the ground of its being unconstitutional. Its policy was questioned, and the utility of banking systems stoutly denied. The arguments on both sides, in relation to the constitutionality of the measure (the constitution being utterly silent on the subject), assumed on frequent occasions an extremely metaphysical tone. It was argued, in favor of a bank, that the power to establish one was implied in the powers delegated to Congress by the constitution to collect a revenue, and to pay the debts of the United States, and in the authority expressly granted to make all laws necessary and proper for carrying those powers into execution.

1791

On the twentieth of January 1791, the bank bill passed the senate without a division, and on the eighth of February it passed the house of representatives by a vote of thirty-nine to twenty. Before signing it, the president requested the written opinion of each member of his cabinet as to its constitutionality, and his reasons for such opinion. They promptly complied. The cabinet was divided. Hamilton and Knox strongly maintained that it was constitutional: Jefferson and Randolph (the attorney-general) as strongly contended that it was unconstitutional. Washington examined the whole subject with great deliberation, and then put his signature to the act. That act gave a charter to the institution limited to twenty years, and for that period Congress renounced the power of establishing any other bank. The capital was to be ten millions of dollars, divided into twenty-five thousand shares of four hundred dollars each; eight millions to be subscribed by individuals, and the other two millions by the United States. It was to be managed by twenty-five directors, chosen annually by the stockholders, and its headquarters were to be at Philadelphia.

The opponents of the bank, and especially Mr. Jefferson, presumed to censure the president because, in the conscientious exercise of his power, he made the act a law by affixing his signature. The secretary of state had other than constitutional grounds for his opposition to the measure. He had conceived an irrepressible distrust of Hamilton. It seemed almost like a monomania. He considered the bank as one of the engines in a scheme intended by Hamilton to make the national legislature subservient to, and under the direction of, the treasury, for the purpose of promoting his monarchical schemes. He afterward affirmed that Washington was deceived by Hamilton, and that he did not perceive the drift or effect of his financial schemes; and ungenerously and unfairly remarked, that, “unversed in financial projects and calculations and budgets, his approbation of them was bottomed on his confidence in the man.”

No person knew better than Mr. Jefferson the unfairness of this assertion. None knew better than he how little Washington was prone to be swayed in his judgment by partiality either toward a man or a measure. He always weighed everything with the greatest care and most profound wisdom, and the opinions of friends and foes were always submitted to the alembic of his keen penetration, and the tests of his almost unfailing sagacity, before they were acted upon. “Hamilton and myself,” wrote Jefferson, “were daily pitted in the cabinet like two cocks.” The personal resentments and consequent prejudices of the secretary of state appear to have frequently warped his judgment and fettered his generosity.

An increase of duties on imported spirits, and an excise tax on those produced at home, in order to increase the revenue required by the charges growing out of the assumption of the state debts, recommended by the secretary of the treasury and submitted to the consideration of Congress in the form of an act, excited warm discussion. An attempt was made to strike out the excise, but failed; and after animated and sometimes violent debates, it was carried by a vote in the house of thirty-five to twenty-one.[31] The portion of the act relating to excise was received with indignation in some parts of the country, and led, as we shall hereafter observe, to actual insurrection in western Pennsylvania.

The establishment of a national mint also occupied the attention of Congress at this session. At the conclusion of the war for independence, the continental Congress requested Robert Morris, the minister of finance, to lay before them his views upon the subject of coins and currency. The labor of preparing a report upon the subject was assigned to the able assistant financier, Gouverneur Morris. It was prepared with great care, and presented in 1782. Morris's first effort was to harmonize the currency of all the states. He ascertained that the one thousand, four hundred and fortieth part of a Spanish dollar was a common divisor for the various currencies. Starting with that fraction as a unit, he proposed the following table of moneys:—

- Ten units to be equal to one penny.

- Ten pence to one bill.

- Ten bills, one dollar (about seventy-five cents of our present currency).

- Ten dollars one crown.

Congress debated the subject from time to time until 1784, when Mr. Jefferson proposed a different scheme. He recommended four coins upon the basis of the Spanish dollar, as follows:—

- A golden piece of the value of ten dollars.

- A dollar in silver.

- A tenth of a dollar in silver.

- A hundredth of a dollar in copper.

In 1785 Congress adopted Mr. Jefferson's scheme, and in 1786 made provision for coinage upon that basis. This was the origin of our decimal currency—the copper cent, the silver dime and dollar, and the golden eagle. Since then, several other coins of different values, having the decimal basis, have been made of gold and silver; and a smaller cent, made of metallic composition, has been coined.

Mr. Jefferson, soon after he came into the cabinet, urged the necessity of a uniform and national coinage, “to banish the discordant pounds, shillings, pence, and farthings of the different states, and to establish in their stead the new denominations.” The subject received some attention during that session, and was agitated in the next (the one we are now considering); but it was not until the second of April, 1792, that laws were enacted for the establishment and regulation of a mint. Thereafter there was much delay, and the mint was not in full operation until January, 1795. During that interval its performances were chiefly experimental, and the variety of silver and copper coins, now so much sought after by collectors, were struck. The most noted of these is the “Washington cent,” so called because it bore the head of Washington on one side. It was a long time before Congress decided upon a proper device for the coins, and the debates that occurred upon the subject were interesting and sometimes amusing.

During this short session, full official reports of Harmer's expedition were laid before Congress; and his repulse, and the increasing danger to the western settlements from the Indians on the frontier, caused that body to authorize an addition to the standing military force of a second regiment of infantry, nine hundred strong. By the same act the president was authorised to appoint, for such term as he should think proper, a major-general and a brigadier-general, and to call into service, in addition to the militia, a corps of two thousand six months' levies, and a body of mounted volunteers.

The conduct of the troops under Harmer was stigmatized as disgraceful. It was thought proper to place the new expedition about to be organized under the command of another officer. St. Clair was then at the seat of government. He was governor of the Northwestern territory, and well acquainted with the country and the movements of the Indians; and Washington, having confidence in his old friend and companion-in-arms, conferred upon him the general command. Yet suffering chagrin and mortification because of the disasters to Harmer's expedition on account of Indian ambuscades, the president, when he took leave of St. Clair, warned him against them in a most solemn manner, saying: “You have your instructions from the secretary of war. I had a strict eye to them, and will add but one word—beware of surprise! You know how the Indians fight. I repeat it—beware of a surprise!”

At that time, three famous Seneca chiefs from western New York—Corn-Planter, Half Town, and Big Tree—were at the seat of government, and offered to visit their dusky brethren in the Ohio region, and try to persuade them to bury the hatchet. Washington, who had a most earnest desire for peace with the savages, accepted their offer, saying: “By this humane measure you will render these mistaken people a great service, and probably prevent their being swept off the face of the earth. The United States require that these people should only demean themselves peaceably.” He concluded his remarks with the following words, which were indicative of a scheme for civilizing the Indians which had occupied his mind for a long time: “When you return to your country, tell your nation that it is my desire to promote their prosperity, by teaching them the use of domestic animals, and the manner that the white people plough and raise so much corn; and if, upon consideration, it would be agreeable to the nation at large to learn those arts, I will find some means of teaching them, at such places within their country as shall be agreed upon.”

With the admission of Kentucky and Vermont into the Union as sovereign states, and providing for the increase and pay of the army, the first Congress closed its labors. They had, within two years, performed a great work; and no body of men, except those who composed the continental Congress during the earlier years of the Revolution, so fairly deserve our sincere gratitude as they. Within that time, with Washington at their head, they had set in motion the machinery of the federal government, laid the foundations of its policy, and placed the United States firmly in the position of a leading nation among the states of the world.

The term of service of the first Congress expired on the third of March, 1791; but Washington did not leave Philadelphia for Mount Vernon until late in the month.

FOOTNOTES:

[29] Washington's residence in New York was first at Osgood's house, No. 10 Cherry street, which by subsequent changes was made to front on Franklin square. He afterward occupied the more commodious house of Mr. M'Comb, where the French minister, M. de Moustier, had resided. It was on Broadway, west side, below Trinity church. That was the one alluded to in Washington's letter. An English traveller who visited the president there described the drawing-room as “lofty and spacious; but,” he added, “the furniture was not beyond that found in the dwellings of opulent Americans in general, and might be called plain for its situation. The upper end of the room had glass doors, which opened upon a balcony, commanding an extensive view of the Hudson river and the Jersey shore opposite.”

[30] Mr. Custis relates that Fraunces, the steward, once purchased the first shad of the season for the president's table, as he knew Washington to be extravagantly fond of fish. He placed it before Washington at table as an agreeable surprise. The president inquired how much he paid for the shad. “Two dollars,” was Fraunces's reply. “Take it away,” said the president—"I will not encourage such extravagance in my house.” Fraunces had no scruples of that kind, and the fish was devoured by himself and other members of the household.

[31] The act imposed a duty varying from twenty to forty cents a gallon, according to strength, on imported liquors; and an excise on domestic liquors varying, according to the strength, from nine to twenty-five cents a gallon on those distilled from grain, and from eleven to thirty cents on those made from molasses or other imported product. Stringent regulations were made for the collection of this excise.

CHAPTER XVI.

TOP

washington journeys to mount vernon—his tour through the southern states—visits the moravians at salem—results of his observations—condition and resources of the country—the federal city—opening of the second congress—lafayette and his perplexities—the jacobin club—flight and arrest of the king—the constitution accepted by him—grand fete on the occasion—party lines drawn in the united states—views of hamilton and jefferson—adams's discourses on davila—paine's rights of man—jefferson's endorsement of the latter—his ungenerous charges against adams and hamilton—washington disturbed by party feuds.

Washington left Philadelphia for home on Monday, the twenty-first of March, prepared for a tour through the southern states. He was accompanied as far as Chester by Mr. Jefferson, the secretary of state, and General Knox, the secretary of war—the only heads of departments then remaining in Philadelphia. He travelled by Chestertown, in Maryland, to Rock Hall, on the eastern shore of the Chesapeake, where he and his suite, with horses, carriage, et cetera, embarked for Annapolis. They arrived at that city on the morning of the twenty-fifth, after a night of peril on the bay in the midst of a storm of wind, rain, and lightning. The president was cordially received by the governor and other dignitaries. On the twenty-eighth he reached Georgetown, and partook of a public dinner given by the mayor and corporation. There he met the commissioners appointed under the residence law, and examined the surveys of the federal city made by Andrew Ellicott, and plans of public buildings by Major L'Enfant.

It was left to the discretion of the president, it will be remembered, to choose a place on the Potomac, between the East branch and Conococheague, for the federal city. He chose the land between the villages of Georgetown and Carrollsburg; and on his arrival he found disputes running very high between the inhabitants of the two places respecting the location of the public buildings, the landholders in each desiring their village to be the favored one. Washington requested the contestants to meet him the next day. He then frankly told them that the dispute in which they were engaged did not comport with either their own interest or that of the public; that while each party was aiming to obtain the public buildings, they might, by placing the matter on a contracted scale, defeat the measure altogether, not only by procrastination, but for want of means to carry on the work; that neither the offer of land from Georgetown or Carrollsburg for the public buildings, separately, was adequate to the end of insuring the object; that both together did not comprehend more ground, nor would afford greater means, than was required for the federal city; and that, instead of contending which of the two should have it, they had better, by combining more offers, make a common cause of it, and thereby secure it to the district. The parties saw the wisdom of the president's suggestion, that while they were contesting for the shadow they might lose the substance, and they mutually agreed, in writing, to surrender for public purposes one half of the land they severally possessed. This business being finished, Washington rode on to Mount Vernon, where he arrived on the evening of the thirtieth of March.

On the seventh of April the president resumed his tour southward. “I was accompanied,” he says in his diary, “by Major Jackson. My equipage and attendants consisted of a chariot and four horses drove in hand, a light baggage-wagon and two horses, four saddle-horses, besides a led one for myself; and five, to wit, my valet-de-chambre, two footmen, coachman, and postillion.”

Previous to leaving Mount Vernon, he wrote to the secretaries of state, treasury, and war, giving them information concerning the time when he expected to be at certain places on his route, and desiring them, in case of important occurrences, to communicate with him, that he might, if necessary, return to the seat of government. So judicious were his arrangements, and so fortunate was the journey, that Washington reached the several places designated at the time contemplated.[32]

Honors awaited the president at every step. Receptions, escorts, artillery salutes, and public dinners, everywhere testified the respect of the people, and many invitations to private entertainments were given him: he declined all. Among others was one from his kinsman, William Washington (a hero of the southern campaign), to make his house in Charleston his home while there. The president's reply in this case exhibits the spirit of the whole: “I can not comply with your invitation without involving myself in inconsistency,” he said; “as I have determined to pursue the same plan in my southern as I did in my eastern visit, which was, not to incommode any private family by taking up my quarters with them during my journey. It leaves me unencumbered by engagements, and, by a uniform adherence to it, I shall avoid giving umbrage to any, by declining all such invitations.”

At Richmond, Washington inspected the works in progress of the James River Navigation company, of which he was president, and received from Colonel Carrington, the marshall of that judicial district, the pleasing assurance that the people generally were favorable to the federal government. To ascertain the temper of the people, become personally acquainted with the leading citizens, and to observe the resources of the country, were the grand objects of the president's tour, and he was rejoiced to find evidences that his own state was gradually perceiving the value and blessings of the Union. At Richmond he was entertained at a public dinner, and escorted far on toward Petersburg by a cavalcade of gentlemen. Having been much incommoded by dust, and finding an escort of horse was preparing to accompany him from Petersburg, Washington caused inquiries as to the time he would leave the town to be answered, that he should endeavor to do it before eight o'clock in the morning. He managed to get off at five, by which means he avoided the inconvenience above-mentioned.

At Wilmington, in North Carolina, he was received by a military and civic escort, entertained at a public dinner, and attended a ball given in his honor in the evening. At Newbern he received like homage, where the dinner and the ball were given at the palace built by Governor Tryon about twenty-five years before. On the morning of the second of May he breakfasted at the country-seat of Governor Pinckney, a few miles from Charleston; and when he arrived at Haddrell's point, across the mouth of the Cooper river, he was met by General Pinckney, Edward Rutledge, and the recorder of the city, in a twelve-oared barge, rowed by twelve captains of American vessels, elegantly dressed. This was accompanied by a great number of other boats with gentlemen and ladies in them; and the gay scene, as the flotilla proceeded toward the city, was enlivened by vocal and instrumental music. At the wharf he was met by the governor and other civil officers, amid the thunder of artillery; and by the Cincinnati and a civic and military escort he was conducted to his lodgings.

Washington remained in Charleston a week, and then departed for Savannah. There he was greeted by General Wayne, General M'Intosh, and other companions-in-arms, and remained several days. He left for Augusta on the fifteenth, dined at Mulberry grove (the seat of Mrs. General Greene) that day, and reached Augusta on the eighteenth. There Governor Telfair, Judge Walton, and others, led in offering ceremonial honors to the illustrious guest.

On the twenty-first the president turned his face homeward, travelling by way of Columbia and Camden in South Carolina, Charlotte, Salisbury, Salem, Guilford and Hillsborough in North Carolina, and Harrisburg, Williamsburg, and Frederickburg, to Mount Vernon. At Salem, a Moravian settlement, he halted for the purpose of seeing Governor Martin, who, he was informed, was on his way to meet the president. He spent a day there, visiting the social and industrial establishments of the community, and attended their religious services in the evening. A committee in behalf of the community presented an address to him, to which he made a brief reply.[33] He reached home on the twelfth of June, having made a most satisfactory journey of more than seventeen hundred miles, after starting from Mount Vernon, in sixty-six days, with the same team of horses. “My return to this place is sooner than I expected,” he wrote to Hamilton, “owing to the uninterruptedness of my journey by sickness, from bad weather, or accidents of any kind whatsoever,” for which he had made an allowance of eight days.

Washington returned to Philadelphia on the sixth of July. “I am much pleased,” he wrote to Colonel Humphreys, then in Paris, on the twentieth, “that I have undertaken the journey, as it has enabled me to see with my own eyes the situation of the country through which we travelled, and to learn more accurately the disposition of the people than I could from any information.” His observations filled his mind with joy in contemplating the future. “The country appears,” he said, “to be in a very improving state, and industry and frugality are becoming much more fashionable than they have hitherto been. Tranquillity reigns among the people, with that disposition towards the general government which is likely to preserve it. They begin to feel the good effects of equal laws and equal protection. The farmer finds a ready market for his produce, and the merchant calculates with more certainty on his payments. Manufactures have as yet made but little progress in that part of the country, and it will probably be a long time before they are brought to that state to which they have already arrived in the middle and eastern parts of the Union. Each day's experience of the government of the United States seems to confirm its establishment, and to make it more popular. A ready acquiescence in the laws made under it shows in a strong light the confidence which the people have in their representatives, and in the upright views of those who administer the government.”

“Our public credit stands on that ground which, three years ago, it would have been a species of madness to have foretold. The astonishing rapidity with which the newly-instituted bank was filled gives an unexampled proof of the resources of our countrymen, and their confidence in public measures. On the first day of opening the subscription, the whole number of shares (twenty thousand) were taken up in one hour, and application made for upwards of four thousand shares more than were granted by the institution, besides many others that were coming in from different quarters.”

In reference to the future seat of government the president said: “I am now happy to add, that all matters between the proprietors of the soil and the public are settled to the mutual satisfaction of both parties, and that the business of laying out the city, the grounds for public buildings, walks, et cetera, is advancing under the inspection of Major L'Enfant with pleasing prospects.”

L'Enfant, who had served as an engineer in the continental army, and was employed to furnish a plan for, and make a survey of, the federal city, spent a week at Mount Vernon, immediately after Washington's return from his southern tour, in submitting his plans to the president, and in consulting with him about the future. These plans were approved by Washington, and met the approbation of Congress when laid before them at the next session. The city was laid out upon a plot containing eight square miles.

The first session of the second Congress commenced at Philadelphia on the twenty-fourth of October, in conformity to an act of the last session of the first Congress. Washington had spent a greater portion of the summer in the federal city, in close attention to public duties; but for six weeks previous to the assembling of the national legislature he remained in the seclusion of Mount Vernon. It was not for him a season of repose. Every mail brought him numerous letters, most of them on public business. Many of them gave him themes for deep and solemn meditation; for national affairs at home and abroad were assuming forms and attitudes that occasioned him much anxiety.

The French revolution, in which his friend Lafayette was engaged as a chief actor, was exhibiting a most alarming and disappointing aspect to the friends of genuine liberty; and the dreams of the marquis, that his country was speedily to be redeemed from disorder and corrupt rule, were disturbed by dismal visions of reality. “Whatever expectations I had conceived of a speedy termination to our revolutionary troubles,” he wrote to Washington as early as the previous March, “I still am tossed about in the ocean of factions and commotions of every kind; for it is my fate to be attacked on each side with equal animosity; on the one by the aristocratic, slavish, parliamentary, clerical—in a word, by all the enemies to my free and levelling doctrine—and on the other by the Orleans factions, anti-royal, licentious, and pillaging parties of every kind: so that my personal escape from amidst so many hostile bands is rather dubious, although our great and good revolution is, thank Heaven, not only insured in France, but on the point of visiting other parts of the world, provided the restoration of public order is soon obtained in this country, where the good people have been better taught how to overthrow despotism than they can understand how to submit to the laws. To you, my dear general, the patriarch and generalissimo of universal liberty, I shall render exact accounts of the conduct of your deputy and aid in that great cause.”

In May he wrote: “I wish it were in my power to give you an assurance that our troubles are at an end, and our constitution totally established. But, although dark clouds are still before us, we have come so far as to foresee the moment when the legislative corps will succeed this convention; and, unless foreign powers interfere, I hope that within four months your friend will have resumed the life of a private and quiet citizen. The rage of parties, even among the patriots, is gone as far as it is possible, short of bloodshed; but, although hatreds are far from subsiding, matters do not appear so much disposed as they formerly were towards collision among the supporters of the popular cause. I myself am exposed to the envy and attacks of all parties—for this simple reason, that whoever acts or means wrong finds me an insuperable obstacle. And there appears a kind of phenomenon in my situation—all parties against me, and a national popularity, which, in spite of every effort, has remained unchanged.... Given up to all the madness of license, faction, and popular rage, I stood alone in defence of the law, and turned the tide into the constitutional channel.”

A little later, Lafayette wrote: “The refugees hovering about the frontiers; intrigues in most of the despotic and aristocratic cabinets; our regular army divided into tory officers and undisciplined soldiers; licentiousness among the people not easily repressed; the capital, that gives the tone to the empire, tossed about by anti-revolutionary or factious parties; the assembly fatigued by hard labor, and very unmanageable—cause me sometimes to be filled with alarm.”

These few sentences lift the curtain slightly from the terrible drama, then in cautious rehearsal, which was soon openly acted before the great audience of the nations. In place of constitutional order, there was the anarchy of faction in the French capital and throughout the provinces. The club of forty gentlemen and men of letters, who met in the hall of the Jacobin monks long before the states-general convened, had now grown up to a vast and popular association known as the Jacobin club. They were the avowed and determined adversaries of monarchy and all aristocratic titles and privileges, and contemner of Christianity; and they had started a journal for the dissemination of their ultra-democratic and irreligious doctrines, having for its watchwords—Liberty and Equality. It was puissant in spreading the spirit of revolt and disaffection to the king, and the greatest license began to prevail among the people. The king and his family were insulted in public. Lafayette, disgusted with the refractory spirit that began to prevail among the National Guards, resigned the command of them, but resumed it at the urgent solicitation of sixty battalions. The democratic spirit became more and more insolent, and at length the king and his family fled from Paris in disguise. Terror prevailed among all classes. A crisis seemed impending. Political dissolution appeared at hand. But the monarch was arrested at Varennes and taken back to Paris under an escort of thirty thousand National Guards. The helpless king assured the assembly that he had no intention of leaving France, but wished to live quietly at a distance from the capital, until government should in a degree be restored and the constitution settled. His justification was that he was subjected to too many insults in the capital, and that the personal safety of the queen was imperilled.

The populace were not satisfied. On the twentieth of July they met in the Elysian Fields, with Robespierre at their head, and petitioned for the dethronement of the king. Four thousand troops fired upon them and killed several hundred. Then and there, in the exasperation of the people and the appearance of Robespierre, the epoch of the Reign of Terror dawned. Yet Lafayette and his friends held the factions in check. The constitution was completed early in September, and was accepted by the king, who solemnly swore that he would “employ all the powers with which he was intrusted in maintaining the constitution declared by the national assembly.”

Proclamation of this act was made throughout the kingdom, and a grand festival in commemoration of the event took place in the Elysian Fields. One hundred thousand citizens danced on that occasion; festoons of many-colored lamps were suspended between the trees; every half hour, one hundred and thirty pieces of cannon thundered along the banks of the Seine; and on a tree planted upon the site of the Bastile was a placard inscribed—

“Here is the epoch of liberty;
We dance on the ruins of despotism;
The constitution is finished—
Long live patriotism!”

On the thirtieth, the king made a speech to the assembly, when the president proclaimed: “The constituent assembly declares their mission fulfilled and their sittings terminated.” Then opened a new act in the French revolution.

While this revolution was thus progressing, half-formed, half-understood political maxims, that were floating upon the tide of social life in the United States, were crystallizing into distinct tenets and assuming strongly antagonistic party positions. The electric forces, so to speak, which produced this crystallization, proceeded from the president's cabinet, where the opinions of the secretaries of the treasury and of the state were at direct variance, and were now making constant war upon each other. Hamilton regarded the federal constitution as inadequate in strength to perform its required functions, and believed that weakness to be its greatest defect; and it was his sincere desire, and his uniform practice, so to construe its provisions as to give the greatest strength to the executive in the administration of public affairs. Jefferson, on the other hand, contemplated all executive power with distrust, and desired to impair its vitality and restrain its operations, believing with Paine that a weak government and a strong people were the best guaranties of liberty to the citizen. He saw in the funding system, the United States bank, and the excise law, instruments for enslaving the people, and believed that the rights of the states and liberties of the inhabitants were in danger. And as Hamilton was the originator of these measures, and they constituted prominent features of the administration, Jefferson found himself, at the opening of the new Congress, arrayed politically with the opposers of the president and the general government, and in the position of arch-leader.

Not content with an expression of his opinions, he charged his opponents, and especially Hamilton, with corrupt and anti-republican designs, selfish motives, and treacherous intentions; and then was inaugurated that system of personal vituperation which, from that time until the present, has disgraced the press and the politicians of our country, and brought odium upon us as a nation.

The party of which Jefferson was the head called themselves Republicans, and warmly sympathized with the radical revolutionists in France; while the great majority of the people—the conservative men of the country—who were favorable to Hamilton's financial schemes and the constitution, were called Federalists.

In the adjustment of party lines at this time, there was a very small party that appeared to be a cross between the two, as manifested by John Adams in a series of essays which he published in the United States Gazette, the acknowledged organ (if organ it had) of the administration, entitled “Discourses on Davila.” These were an analysis of Davila's History of the Civil Wars in France in the sixteenth century; and the aim of Mr. Adams was to point out to his countrymen the danger to be apprehended from factions and ill-balanced forms of government. In these essays he maintained that as the great spring of human activity, especially as related to public life, was self-esteem, manifested in the love of superiority and the desire of distinction, applause, and admiration, it was important in a popular government to provide for the moderate gratification of all of them. He therefore advocated a liberal use of titles and ceremonial honors for those in office, and an aristocratic senate. To counteract any undue influence on the part of the senate, he proposed a popular assembly on the broadest democratic basis; and to keep in check the encroachment of each upon the other, he recommended a powerful executive. He thought liberty to all would be thus secured. From the premises which formed the basis of his reasoning, Mr. Adams concluded that the French constitution, which disavowed all distinctions of rank, which vested the legislative authority in a single assembly, and which, though retaining the office of king, divested him of nearly all actual power, must, in the nature of things, prove a failure.

In the publication of these essays, Adams was most unfortunate. He appears not to have presented his ideas concerning his political system with sufficient clearness to be understood. He was, indeed, greatly misunderstood, and was charged with advocating a monarchy and a hereditary senate and presidency; with the greatest inconsistency, because, in 1787, he had written and published in London an excellent “Defence of the American Constitution;” and with political heresy, if not actual apostasy, because of that inconsistency. Twenty years later, when speaking of these essays, Mr. Adams said: “This dull, heavy volume still excites the wonder of its author—first, that he could find, amid the constant scenes of business and dissipation in which he was enveloped, time to write it; secondly, that he had the courage to oppose and publish his own opinions to the universal opinion of America, and indeed of all mankind.” Others were no less astonished, for the same reasons.

These essays were published in 1790, and filled Jefferson with disgust. He already began to suspect Hamilton of anti-republican schemes, and he now cherished the idea that there was a conspiracy on foot, headed by Adams and Hamilton, to overthrow the republican institutions of the United States, and on their ruins to erect a mixed government like that of England, composed of a monarchy and aristocracy. To counteract these political heresies, Paine's Rights of Man, which he wrote in reply to Burke's pamphlet on the French Revolution (a performance which Adams held in “perfect detestation,” but which other patriots regarded as one of which any man might be proud), was reprinted and circulated in the United States, with a complimentary note from Mr. Jefferson at its head—“a note which Mr. Jefferson declared he neither desired nor expected to have printed;” not because he did not approve of Paine's doctrines, but because he did not wish to take such responsibility at that crisis and while in his official position. He rejoiced, however, at the reprint of Paine's essay.

“Paine's pamphlet,” he said in a letter to Mr. Short, the American chargé d'affaires at Paris, “has been published and read with general applause here;” and then he proceeds to charge “Adams, Jay, Hamilton, Knox, and many of the Cincinnati,” with endeavoring “to make way for a king, lords, and commons.” “The second” (Jay), he said, “says nothing; the third [Hamilton] is open. Both are dangerous. They pant after union with England, as the power which is to support their projects, and are most determined anti-Gallicans.” This, as time has demonstrated, was a most unjust and ungenerous charge. So thoroughly was Mr. Jefferson then imbued with the spirit of the French revolution, in its most democratic and destructive aspect—so bitter was his hatred of monarchy and aristocracy—that his judgment seemed entirely perverted, his usual charity utterly congealed; and every man who differed with him in opinion was regarded as a conspirator against the rights of mankind.

In after years, when the passions of the times had passed away, he reiterated his opinion that Adams and Hamilton were at that time seeking the subversion of republican institutions in the United States. “The one [Adams],” he said, “was for two hereditary branches, and an honest elective one; the other [Hamilton] for an hereditary king, with a house of lords and commons, corrupted to his will, and standing between him and the people. Hamilton was indeed a singular character. Of acute understanding, disinterested, honest, and honorable in all private transactions, amiable in society, and duly valuing virtue in private life, yet so bewitched and perverted by British example, as to be under thorough conviction that corruption was essential to the government of a nation. Mr. Adams had originally been a republican. The glare of royalty and nobility, during his mission to England, had made him believe their fascination a necessary ingredient in government.”

The best refutation of the opinion of Jefferson concerning Hamilton's views is contained in the whole tenor of that great man's life, and in the close private and political friendship that existed between the sagacious Washington and Hamilton until death separated them.

Paine's original pamphlet was dedicated “to the president of the United States,” and that dedication was retained in the reprint. That and Jefferson's note produced quite a stir. Because of certain language in the pamphlet, Paine had been prosecuted for libel by the British government, and had fled to France; and this apparent endorsement of his essay by the government of the United States, in the persons of the president and secretary of state, was offensive to that of Great Britain. Major Beckwith, the aid-de-camp of Governor Carleton already mentioned, expressed his surprise that the pamphlet should have been published under such auspices, because it seemed to imply unfriendliness toward his government. He was satisfied, however, when assured that the president knew nothing of the reprint of the pamphlet, and that the publication of the note by the secretary of state was unauthorized. The matter disturbed the friendly relations between Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson for a short time. Frank explanations healed the breach for a moment; but they differed too widely in their ideas concerning some of the exciting questions of the day to act together as political friends. Indeed, they soon became decided political antagonists, and Washington was greatly disturbed by party dissentions in his cabinet and in Congress.

FOOTNOTES:

[32] “I shall be,” he said, “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 Newbern, the twenty-fifth at Wilmington, the twenty-ninth at Georgetown, South Carolina; on the second day of May at Charleston in South Carolina, halting there five days; on the eleventh at Savannah, halting there two days. Then leaving the line of mail, I shall proceed to Augusta; and according to the information I shall receive there, my return by an upper road will be regulated.”

[33] The following is the address of the Moravians to the president:—

“Happy in sharing the honor of a visit from the illustrious president of the Union to the southern states, the Brethren of Wachovia humbly beg leave, upon this joyful occasion, to express their highest esteem, duty, and affection, for the great patriot of this country.

“Deeply impressed as we are with gratitude to the great Author of our being for his unbounded mercies, we can not but particularly acknowledge his gracious providence over the temporal and political prosperity of the country, in the peace whereof we do find peace, and wherein none can take a warmer interest than ourselves; in particular, when we consider that the same Lord who preserved your precious person in so many imminent dangers has made you, in a conspicuous manner, an instrument in his hands to forward that happy constitution, together with those improvements, whereby our United States begin to flourish, over which you preside with the applause of a thankful nation.

“Whenever, therefore, we solicit the protection of the Father of mercies over this favored country, we can not but fervently implore his kindness for your preservation, which is so intimately connected therewith.

“May this gracious Lord vouchsafe to prolong your valuable life as a further blessing, and an ornament of the constitution, that by your worthy example the regard for religion be increased, and the improvements of civil society encouraged.

“The settlements of the United Brethren, though small, will always make it their study to contribute as much as in them lies to the peace and improvement of the United States, and all the particular parts they live in, joining their ardent prayers to the best wishes of this whole continent that your personal as well as domestic happiness may abound, and a series of successes may crown your labors for the prosperity of our times and an example to future ages, until the glorious reward of a faithful servant shall be your portion.

“Signed, in behalf of the United Brethren in Wachovia:

“Frederick William Marshall, “John Daniel Köhler, “Christian Lewis Benzien.

“Salem, the 1st of June, 1791.”

To which the president of the United States was pleased to return the following answer:—

“To the United Brethren of Wachovia:

“Gentlemen: I am greatly indebted to your respectful and affectionate expression of personal regard, and I am not less obliged by the patriotic sentiment contained in your address.

“From a society whose governing principles are industry and the love of order, much may be expected towards the improvement and prosperity of the country in which their settlements are formed, and experience authorizes the belief that much will be obtained.

“Thanking you with grateful sincerity for your prayers in my behalf, I desire to assure you of my best wishes for your social and individual happiness.

“G. Washington.”

CHAPTER XVII.

TOP

the new congress—aaron burr senator—scope of washington's annual address—st. clair's expedition against the indians—character of his army—surprise and defeat—effect of the event on washington—wayne appointed to succeed st. clair—appearance of parties in congress—opposing newspapers—apportionment bill—veto first applied—washington yearns for private life—expresses his desires to jefferson and madison—valedictory address contemplated—madison requested to prepare one—a remarkable letter from jefferson—washington consents to a re-election.

Washington read his third annual address to the assembled Congress on the twenty-fifth of October. Before him were most of the members of the previous Congress. Nearly all of the retiring senators had been re-elected. Among the new ones was Roger Sherman of Connecticut, George Cabot of Massachusetts, and Aaron Burr of New York. The latter was elected as the successor to General Schuyler, and now, for the first time, appeared prominent among statesmen. He had been appointed attorney-general of New York by Governor Clinton, and, in respect to talent and influence, was a rising man. Artful and fascinating, he had secured the votes of a sufficient number of federalists in the state legislature to gain his election, and he went into Congress a decided opponent of the administration; not on principle, for that never influenced him, but on account of personal hostility to the president, whom he hated because of his virtues.

In the house there were several new members, and the number of those opposed to the policy of the administration had been considerably increased, the elections in several of the states having been warmly contested. Jonathan Trumbull, son of the patriotic governor of Connecticut, was chosen speaker.

In his address, the president congratulated Congress on the general prosperity of the country, the success of its financial measures, and the disposition generally manifested to submit to the excise law. He dwelt at considerable length upon Indian affairs, recommending a just, impartial, and humane policy toward the savages, as the best means of securing peace on the frontier. He announced that the site of the federal capital had been selected and the city laid out on the bank of the Potomac. He again called their attention to the subject of a reorganization of the post-office department, the establishment of a mint, the adoption of a plan for producing uniformity in weights and measures, and making provision for the sale of the public lands of the United States.

The expedition against the Indians in the northwest had, meanwhile, been in progress, with varying fortunes, sometimes successful and sometimes not. At length painful rumors, and finally positive statements, came that a terrible calamity had overtaken St. Clair and his command. These troops had assembled in the vicinity of Fort Washington (now Cincinnati) early in September, and consisted nominally of two thousand regulars and one thousand militia, including a corps of artillery and several squadrons of horse. They were compelled to cut a road through the wilderness, and erect forts to keep up communication between the Ohio and the Wabash, the base of their operations. Desertions were numerous, and the refuse of western population often filled the places of these delinquents. Insubordination prevailed; and, to increase St. Clair's difficulties, he was so afflicted with the gout that he could not walk, and had to be lifted on and off his horse.

At length the little army, reduced to fourteen hundred effective men, rank and file, by desertion and the absence of a corps sent to apprehend deserters, had penetrated to a tributary of the Wabash fifteen miles south of the Miami villages, and almost a hundred from Fort Washington. There, before sunrise on the fourth of November, while the main body were encamped in two lines on rising ground, and the militia upon a high flat on the other side of the stream a quarter of a mile in advance, they were surprised and fiercely attacked by a large number of Indians, who fell first upon the militia, and then with deadly power upon the regulars. Great carnage ensued. The enemy, concealed in the woods, poured a destructive fire upon the troops from almost every point. St. Clair, unable to mount his horse, was carried about in a litter, and gave his orders with discretion and the most perfect coolness. Nearly all the officers and half the army were killed. For two hours and a half the desperate contest raged. Finally St. Clair ordered a retreat. It at once became a disorderly flight. The artillery, baggage, and many of the wounded, were left behind. Many of the troops threw away their arms, ammunition, and accoutrements. Some of the officers divested themselves of their fusees, that their flight might not be impeded. The general was mounted upon a lazy pack-horse, who could not be spurred into a gallop; but, as the enemy did not pursue more than a mile or two, St. Clair and the survivors of the battle escaped to Fort Jefferson, a distance of twenty-five miles. The retreat was continued the next day toward Fort Washington, where the shattered army arrived on the eighth. The entire loss was estimated at six hundred and seventy-seven killed, including thirty women, and two hundred and seventy-one wounded.

The late Richard Rush, of Philadelphia, has left on record the following graphic account of the effect which the intelligence of St. Clair's defeat had upon Washington. It was from an eye-witness:—

“An anecdote I derived from Colonel Lear,” says Mr. Rush, “shortly before his death in 1816, may here be related, showing the height to which Washington's passion would rise, yet be controlled. It belongs to his domestic life, with which I am dealing, having occurred under his own roof, while it marks public feeling the most intense, and points to the moral of his life. I give it in Colonel Lear's words, as near as I can, having made a note of them at the time.

“Toward the close of a winter's day in 1791, an officer in uniform was seen to dismount in front of the president's house, in Philadelphia, and giving the bridle to his servant, knocked at the door of the mansion. Learning from the porter that the president was at dinner, he said he was on public business and had despatches for the president. A servant was sent into the dining-room to give the information to Mr. Lear, who left the table and went into the hall, where the officer repeated what he had said. Mr. Lear replied that, as the president's secretary, he would take charge of the despatches and deliver them at the proper time. The officer made answer that he had just arrived from the western army, and his orders were to deliver them with all promptitude, and to the president in person; but that he would wait his directions. Mr. Lear returned, and in a whisper imparted to the president what had passed. General Washington rose from the table and went to the officer. He was back in a short time, made a word of apology for his absence, but no allusion to the cause of it. He had company that day. Everything went on as usual. Dinner over, the gentlemen passed to the drawing-room of Mrs. Washington, which was open in the evening. The general spoke courteously to every lady in the room, as was his custom. His hours were early, and by ten o'clock all the company had gone. Mrs. Washington and Mr. Lear remained. Soon Mrs. Washington left the room.

“The general now walked backward and forward for some minutes without speaking. Then he sat down on a sofa by the fire, telling Mr. Lear to sit down. To this moment there had been no change in his manner since his interruption at the table. Mr. Lear now perceived emotion. This rising in him, he broke out suddenly: 'It's all over! St. Clair's defeated—routed; the officers nearly all killed—the men by wholesale—the rout complete! too shocking to think of!—and a surprise in the bargain!'

“He uttered all this with great vehemence. Then he paused, got up from the sofa, and walked about the room several times, agitated, but saying nothing. Near the door he stopped short and stood still a few seconds, when his wrath became terrible.

“'Yes!' he burst forth, 'HERE, on this very spot, I took leave of him: I wished him success and honor. “You have your instructions,” I said, “from the secretary of war: I had a strict eye to them, and will add but one word—beware of a surprise! I repeat it—beware of a surprise! You know how the Indians fight us.” He went off with that as my last solemn warning thrown into his ears. And yet, to suffer that army to be cut to pieces, hacked by a surprise—the very thing I guarded him against! O God! O God! he's worse than a murderer! How can he answer it to his country? The blood of the slain is upon him—the curse of widows and orphans—the curse of Heaven!'

“This torrent came out in tone appalling. His very frame shook. 'It was awful!' said Mr. Lear. More than once he threw his hands up as he hurled imprecations upon St. Clair. Mr. Lear remained speechless—awed into breathless silence.

“The roused chief sat down on the sofa once more. He seemed conscious of his passion, and uncomfortable. He was silent; his wrath began to subside. He at length said, in an altered voice, 'This must not go beyond this room.' Another pause followed—a longer one—when he said, in a tone quite low: 'General St. Clair shall have justice. I looked hastily through the despatches—saw the whole disaster, but not all the particulars. I will hear him without prejudice: he shall have full justice.'

“'He was now,' said Mr. Lear, 'perfectly calm. Half an hour had gone by; the storm was over, and no sign of it was afterward seen in his conduct or heard in his conversation.'”[34]

“The first interview of the president with St Clair after the fatal fourth of November,” says the late Mr. Custis[35] (who was present), “was nobly impressive. The unfortunate general, worn down by age, disease, and the hardships of a frontier campaign, assailed by the press, and with the current of popular opinion setting hard against him, repaired to his chief, as to a shelter from the fury of so many elements. Washington extended his hand to one who appeared in no new character; for, during the whole of a long life, misfortune seemed 'to have marked him for her own.' Poor old St. Clair hobbled up to his chief, seized the offered hand in both of his, and gave vent to his feelings in an audible manner.”

St. Clair's case was investigated by a committee of the house of representatives, and he was honorably acquitted. But public sentiment was against him, and he resigned his commission.

The alarm on the frontier, caused by St. Clair's defeat, produced prompt and appropriate action in Congress, and an army of five thousand men for frontier service was authorized. The impetuous General Wayne (of whom Washington said, at this time, “He has many good points as an officer, and it is to be hoped that time, reflection, good advice, and above all a due sense of the importance of the trust committed to him, will correct his faults, or cast a shade over them”) was appointed commander-in-chief, and Colonel Otho H. Williams, of Maryland, and Colonel Rufus Putnam, then in the Ohio country, brigadiers under him. Wayne was then in the prime of life, being forty-seven years of age; and Washington, believing that an energetic campaign would retrieve the losses of St. Clair and produce a decisive and salutary effect upon the Indians, counted much upon the prowess and executive force of that officer. Nor was he disappointed.

Additional revenue was required to support the increased army; and upon a motion being made in Congress to call upon the secretary of the treasury to report the ways and means of raising it, the first decided opposition to that officer and the measures of the administration, in complicity with Jefferson's personal dislike of Hamilton, appeared in the national legislature. Such report was called for, however; and the discussions that ensued upon this and other topics were sometimes very acrimonious, and caused Washington much painful apprehension. The press, at the same time, was fostering party spirit with the most pernicious aliment. In the previous autumn, a paper in the interest of the republican party and in opposition to Fenno's United States Gazette, called the National Gazette, was established. Philip Freneau, a warm whig of the Revolution and a poet of considerable local eminence, who had been editor of a New York paper, and who was called to Philadelphia at that time by Mr. Jefferson to fill the post of translating clerk in the state department, was installed as editor of the new opposition paper. Jefferson patronized it for the avowed purpose of presenting to the president and the American people correct European intelligence, derived from the Leyden Gazette instead of through the alleged polluted channel of English newspapers. But it soon became the vehicle of bitter attacks upon all measures of the administration which did not originate with, or were approved by, Mr. Jefferson; and the character of the secretary became thereby seriously compromised before the American people. He was charged, with great plausibility, with being the author of many anonymous political articles in Freneau's paper; but he solemnly declared the accusation to be untrue.

1792

Congress adjourned on the eighth of May. During the session, Washington had for the first time exercised the veto power intrusted to the president by the constitution. The occasion was the passage of an apportionment bill based upon the census of the population of the United States, lately taken, which in its provisions appeared to conflict with the constitution. That instrument provided that the representatives should not exceed one for every thirty thousand persons. This ratio would leave a fraction in each state (in some more, in some less) unrepresented. To obviate this difficulty, the senate originated a bill which exhibited a new principle of apportionment. It assumed as a basis the total population of the United States, and not the population of separate states, as that upon which the whole number of representatives should be determined. This aggregate was divided by thirty thousand. The quotient giving one hundred and twenty as the number of representatives, that number was apportioned upon the several states according to their population, allotting to each one member for every thirty thousand, and distributing the remaining members, to make up the one hundred and twenty, among the states having the largest fractions. After much debate, the house concurred in the senate's bill, and it was submitted to the president for his signature. The only question that arose was as to its constitutionality. The president consulted his cabinet. Jefferson and Randolph decided that it was unconstitutional; Knox could not express a definite opinion; and Hamilton rather favored the bill. After due deliberation Washington returned it with his objections. “A few of the hottest friends of the bill,” says Jefferson in his Anas, “expressed passion, but the majority were satisfied; and both in and out of doors,” he rather ill-naturedly added, “it gave pleasure to have at length an instance of the negative being exercised.”

The distractions in his cabinet, the increasing virulence of party spirit continually manifested in Congress, and the cares of government, began to make Washington thoroughly weary of public life, and early in 1792 he resolved to retire from it at the end of the term for which he had been elected to the presidency. He had more than a year to serve; but he determined to let his resolution be made known to the public at an early day. He first announced it to his nearest friends and associates. Among these were Jefferson and Madison, the latter a representative from Virginia, and then taking the position of a republican leader in the house. To Jefferson, Washington had opened his mind on the subject as early as the close of February, at the same time saying that he should consider it unfortunate if his retirement should cause that of other great officers of the government. At that time, the president was becoming painfully aware that the differences in his cabinet were systematic, instead of incidental as at first.

With Madison, Washington held frequent conversations upon the subject of his retirement, but nothing definite was determined when they left Philadelphia at the close of the session. The president went so far, however, as to ask Madison to revolve this subject in his mind, and advise him as to the proper time and the best mode of announcing his intention to the people. But Madison always urged him to relinquish the idea for the public good, and Jefferson desired him to remain in office for the same reason.

Congress having adjourned on Tuesday, the eighth of May, on the tenth Washington set out alone for Mount Vernon, leaving his family in Philadelphia. He carried with him several copies of Paine's Rights of Man, already alluded to, fifty of which he received from the author a day or two before he left Philadelphia.[36] With peculiar delight he sat down amid the cool shadows and quiet retreats of his loved home on the Potomac, at the season of flowers; and the desire to leave the turmoils of public life appears to have taken hold of him with a strength which he had never felt before. He resolved to be governed by his inclinations; and on the twentieth he wrote to Madison, announcing his intention in unequivocal terms, and repeating the request for advice which he had made before leaving Philadelphia.

“I have not been unmindful,” he said, “of the sentiments expressed by you in the conversations just alluded to. On the contrary, I have again and again revolved them with thoughtful anxiety, but without being able to dispose my mind to a longer continuation in the office I have now the honor to hold.... Nothing but a conviction that my declining the chair of government, if it should be the desire of the people to continue me in it, would involve the country in serious disputes respecting the chief magistrate, and the disagreeable consequences which might result therefrom in the floating and divided opinions which seem to prevail at present, could in any wise induce me to relinquish the determination I have formed.... Under these impressions, then, permit me to reiterate the request I made to you at our last meeting, namely, to think of the proper time and the best mode of announcing the intention, and that you would prepare the latter. In revolving this subject myself, my judgment has always been embarrassed.... I would fain carry my request to you further than is asked above, although I am sensible it would add to your trouble. But as the recess may afford you leisure, and as I flatter myself you have dispositions to oblige me, I will without apology desire, if the measure in itself should strike you as proper, or likely to produce public good or private honor, that you would turn your thoughts to a Valedictory Address from me to the public.”

He desired Madison to express, “in plain and modest terms,” his feelings: That having endeavored to do his duty in the office he held, and age coming on apace, he desired to retire to private life, believing that rotation in the elective offices might be more congenial with the ideas of the people, of liberty and safety—that with such views, he took leave of them as a public man, and invoked the continuance of every blessing of Providence upon his country, “and upon all those who are the supporters of its interests, and the promoters of harmony, order, and good government.”

Washington then suggested four topics to be remarked upon, as follows: First, That we are all children of the same country, great and rich, and capable of being as prosperous and happy as any which the annals of history exhibit; and that the people have all an equal interest in the great concerns of the nation. Second, That the extent of our country, the diversity of our climate and soil, and the various productions of the states, are such as to make one part not only convenient, but indispensable to other parts, and may render the whole one of the most independent nations in the world. Third, That the government, being the work of the people, and having the mode and power of amendment engrafted upon the constitution, may, by the exercise of forbearance, wisdom, good will, and experience, be brought as near perfection as any human institution has ever been; and therefore, that the only strife should be, who should be foremost in facilitating and finally accomplishing such great and desirable objects, by giving every possible support and cement to the Union. Fourth, “That, however necessary it may be to keep a watchful eye over public servants and public measures, yet there ought to be limits to it; for suspicions unfounded and jealousies too lively are irritating to honest feelings, and oftentimes are productive of more evil than good.”

With these general hints, Washington left the matter in Madison's hands. At the same time, he asked that friend to give him hints also as to “fit subjects for communication” in his next annual message to Congress. In all this we see the acts of an eminently wise man, intent solely upon the public good, seeking aid in his arduous labors from those in whom he had confidence.

A month later, Madison replied to the president's letter, giving his opinion, that if he was determined to retire, it would be expedient and highly proper for him to put forth a valedictory address through the public prints; at the same time he expressed a hope that Washington would “reconsider the measure in all its circumstances and consequences,” and that he would acquiesce in one more sacrifice, severe as it might be, to the desires and interests of his country. With the letter Madison sent a draft of an address, and in reference to it remarked: “You will readily observe that, in executing it, I have aimed at that plainness and modesty of language which you had in view, and which indeed are so peculiarly becoming the character and the occasion; and that I had little more to do, as to the matter, than to follow the just and comprehensive outline which you had sketched. I flatter myself, however, that in everything which has depended on me, much improvement will be made before so interesting a paper shall have taken its last form.”

In a letter to the president, written on the twenty-third of May, Jefferson expressed his concern at the determination of the president. “When you first mentioned to me your purpose of retiring from the government,” he said, “though I felt all the magnitude of the event, I was in a considerable degree silent. I knew that to such a mind as yours persuasion was idle and impertinent; that, before forming your decision, you had weighed all the reasons for and against the measure, had made up your mind in full view of them, and that there could be little hope of changing the result. Pursuing my reflections, too, I knew we were some day to try to walk alone, and, if the essay should be made while you should be alive and looking on, we should derive confidence from that circumstance and resource if it failed. The public mind, too, was then calm and confident, and therefore in a favorable state for making an experiment. But the public mind is no longer so confident and serene, and that for causes in which you are no way personally mixed.” He then went on at great length in denunciation of the funding system, as one calculated and even intended to “corrupt the legislature,” and as the chief instrument in efforts to establish a monarchical and aristocratical government upon the ruins of the confederation—of preparing the way “for a change from the present republican form of government to that of a monarchy, of which the English constitution is to be the model.” He then said:—

“The confidence of the whole Union is centred in you. Your being at the helm will be more than an answer to every argument which can be used to alarm and lead the people in any quarter into violence and secession. North and South will hang together if they have you to hang on; and if the first corrective of a numerous representation should fail in its effects, your presence will give time for trying others, not inconsistent with the union and peace of the states.

“I am perfectly aware of the oppression under which your present office lays your mind, and with the ardor with which you pant for domestic life. But there is sometimes an eminence of character on which society have such peculiar claims as to control the predilections of the individual for a particular walk of happiness, and restrain him to that alone arising from the present and future benedictions of mankind. This seems to be your condition, and the law imposed on you by Providence in forming your character, and fashioning the events on which it was to operate; and it is to motives like these, and not to personal anxieties of mine or others who have no right to call on you for sacrifices, that I appeal, and urge a revisal of it, on the ground of change in the aspect of things. Should an honest majority result from a new and enlarged representation; should those acquiesce whose principles or interests they may control, your wishes for retirement would be gratified with less danger, as soon as that shall be manifest, without awaiting the completion of the second term of four years. One or two sessions will determine the crisis; and I can not but hope that you can resolve to add more to the many years you have already sacrificed to the good of mankind.”[37]

These were wise and patriotic words, and, no doubt, had much effect upon Washington's mind. The critical state of public affairs, the growing animosities of party spirit, the urgent pleadings of all his friends, the ardent desires of the people in all parts of the country, and his willingness to serve his country in any hour of her need, caused him, as usual, to sacrifice personal inclinations to the public welfare, and he consented to be a candidate for re-election.

Washington made a verbal reply to Mr. Jefferson's letter when he met him in Philadelphia. He dissented from most of the secretary's views of public policy, and defended the assumption of the state debts and the excise law. As to the United States bank, he did not believe that discontents concerning it were found far from the seat of government. He assured Mr. Jefferson that he had spoken with many people in Maryland and Virginia during his late journey, and found them contented and happy. According to notes made by Mr. Jefferson at the time, he and the president had a friendly discussion of the whole matter. Washington was very decided in his opinions, having weighed the subject with his sound judgment. But his words had no effect upon Jefferson.

FOOTNOTES:

[34] Washington in Private Life, by Richard Rush.

[35] Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington, page 419.

[36] In his letter accompanying the books, Paine remarked: “The work has had a run beyond any thing that has been published in this country on the subject of government, and the demand continues. In Ireland it has had a much greater. A letter I received from Dublin, tenth of May, mentioned that the fourth edition was then on sale. I know not what number of copies were printed at each edition, except the second, which was ten thousand. The same fate follows me here as I at first experienced in America—strong friends and violent enemies. But as I have got the ear of the country, I shall go on, and at least show them, what is a novelty here, that there can be a person beyond the reach of corruption.”

[37] Randall's Life of Thomas Jefferson ii 61

CHAPTER XVIII.

TOP

jefferson's letter gives washington pain—his letters to lafayette and others—ungenerous suspicions—washington lays before hamilton a synopsis of complaints against the administration—hamilton's replies—he denounces his accusers—complete rupture between hamilton and jefferson—newspaper disputes—freneau's affidavit—washington annoyed and alarmed by the feud—seeks to heal the breach—correspondence between the president and the contending secretaries—spirit of that correspondence—hostilities to the excise laws—the president's proclamation—another effort to reconcile the disputing secretaries—washington unanimously re-elected president of the united states.

Those portions of Jefferson's letter which related to public measures gave Washington a great deal of pain. They formed the first strong avowal of his able friend and coadjutor of his deep-seated suspicions of living conspiracies against the liberties of the United States, and his opposition to the measures which he considered the implements of treason in the hands of the conspirators. They were the evidences of a schism in the president's cabinet which destroyed its unity and prophesied of serious evils.

Jefferson's correspondence at that period shows the bias of his mind; and, in the light of subsequent experience, while we view him as a true patriot, jealous of his country's rights, we can not but regard him as a monomaniac at that time. He saw in every supporter of Hamilton and his measures a conspirator, or the dupe of a conspirator; and he seemed, vain-gloriously, to believe that his own political perceptions were far keener than those of Washington and all the world beside. To Lafayette he wrote: “A sect has shown itself among us, who declare they espoused our constitution, not as a good and sufficient thing in itself, but only as a step to an English constitution—the only thing good and sufficient in itself, in their eyes. It is happy for us that these are preachers without followers, and that our people are firm and constant in their republican purity. You will wonder to be told that it is from the eastward chiefly that these champions for a king, lords, and commons come. They get some important associates from New York, and are puffed up by a tribe of Agioteurs which have been hatched in a bed of corruption, made up after the model of their beloved England. Too many of these stockjobbers and kingjobbers have come into our legislature—or rather, too many of our legislature have become stockjobbers and kingjobbers. However, the voice of the people is beginning to make itself heard, and will probably cleanse their seats at the next election.”

To others he wrote in a similar vein; and he seemed to be constantly haunted by the ghost of kings, lords, and commons, sitting in the seat of the republican president and of the popular Congress.

Washington pondered these things with great anxiety, and on the twenty-ninth of July he wrote a private and confidential letter to Hamilton, in which he set forth, under twenty-one distinct heads, a summary of objections to the measures of the administration, drawn chiefly from Jefferson's letter to the president just alluded to. “These,” he said, “as well as my memory serves me, are the sentiments which, directly and indirectly, have been disclosed to me. To obtain light and to pursue truth being my sole aim, and wishing to have before me explanations of, as well as the complaints on, measures in which the public interest, harmony, and peace, are so deeply concerned, and my public conduct so much involved, it is my request, and you would oblige me by furnishing me with your ideas upon the discontents here enumerated; and for this purpose I have thrown them into heads, or sections, and numbered them, that those ideas may be applied to the correspondent numbers.”

Hamilton answered in the required form on the eighteenth of August. “You will observe here and there,” he remarked in his preface, “some severity appears. I have not fortitude enough always to bear with calmness calumnies which necessarily include me, as a principal agent in the measures censured, of the falsehood of which I have the most unqualified consciousness. I trust I shall always be able to bear as I ought imputations of errors of judgment; but I acknowledge that I can not be entirely patient under charges which impeach the integrity of my public motives or conduct. I feel that I merit them in no degree; and expressions of indignation sometimes escape me in spite of every effort to suppress them. I rely on your goodness for the proper allowances.”

He then, under the head of Objections and answers respecting the administration of the government, ably justified all measures which distinguished that administration. When treating upon the charges that “the funding of the debt had furnished effectual means of corruption of such a portion of the legislature as turned the balance between the honest voters whichever way it was directed,” he manifested much indignation. “This is one of those assertions,” he said, “which can only be denied, and pronounced to be malignant and false. No facts exist to support it. The asserters assume to themselves, and to those who think with them, infallibility. Take their words for it, they are the only honest men in the community.” “As far as I know,” he said, “there is not a member of the legislature who can properly be called a stockjobber or a paper-dealer. There are several of them who were proprietors of public debt in various ways; some for money lent and property furnished for the use of the public during the war, others for sums received in payment of debts; and it is supposable enough that some of them had been purchasers of the public debt, with intention to hold it as a valuable and convenient property, considering an honorable provision for it as a matter of course.

“It is a strange perversion of ideas, and as novel as it is extraordinary, that men should be deemed corrupt and criminal for becoming proprietors in the funds of their country. Yet I believe the number of members of Congress is very small who have ever been considerable proprietors in the funds. As to improper speculations on measures depending before Congress, I believe never was any body of men freer from them.”

To the charge that the federalists contemplated the establishment of a monarchy, Hamilton said: “The idea of introducing a monarchy or aristocracy into this country, by employing the influence and force of a government continually changing hands towards it, is one of those visionary things that none but madmen could meditate, and that no wise man will believe.

“If it could be done at all, which is utterly incredible, it would require a long series of time, certainly beyond the life of any individual, to effect it. Who then would enter into such a plot? for what purpose of interest or ambition?

“To hope that the people may be cajoled into giving their sanctions to such institutions is still more chimerical. A people so enlightened and so diversified as the people of this country can surely never be brought to it but from convulsions and disorders, in consequence of the arts of popular demagogues.

“The truth unquestionably is, that the only path to a subversion of the republican system of the country is by flattering the prejudices of the people, and exciting their jealousies and apprehensions, to throw affairs into confusion and bring on civil commotion. Tired at length of anarchy or want of government, they may take shelter in the arms of monarchy for repose and security.”

The rupture between Hamilton and Jefferson was now complete, and the violence of party spirit manifested by the Gazettes of Fenno and Freneau was greatly augmented. The latter became more and more personal in his attacks upon the administration; and Hamilton, who was held up by name as a monarchist at heart, believing that the assaults originated in the hostility of Jefferson, in whose office Freneau was employed, at length turned sharply upon his assailant. Over an anonymous signature he inquired, in Fenno's paper, whether the government salary given to Freneau was paid him for translations, or for calumniating those whom the voice of the nation had called to the administration of public affairs; whether he was rewarded as a public servant, or as a disturber of the public peace by false insinuations. “In common life,” he said, “it is thought ungrateful for a man to bite the hand that puts bread in his mouth; but if a man is hired to do it the case is altered.”

Again he said, after giving a history of the establishment of Freneau's paper: “An experiment somewhat new in the history of political manœuvres in this country; a newspaper instituted by a public officer, and the editor of it regularly pensioned with the public money in the disposal of that officer.... But, it may be asked, is it possible that Mr. Jefferson, the head of a principal department of the government, can be the patron of a paper the evident object of which is to decry the government and its measures? If he disapproves of the government itself, and thinks it deserving of his opposition, can he reconcile it to his own personal dignity and the principles of probity to hold an office under it, and employ the means of official influence in that opposition? If he disapproves of the leading measures which have been adopted in the course of his administration, can he reconcile it with the principles of delicacy and propriety to hold a place in that administration, and at the same time to be instrumental in vilifying measures which have been adopted by majorities of both branches of the legislature, and sanctioned by the chief magistrate of the Union?”

This brought out an affidavit from Freneau, in which he exculpated Mr. Jefferson from all complicity in the establishment, the conduct, or the support of his paper.

The feud between Hamilton and Jefferson gave Washington great concern and no little mortification. Both ministers discharged the duties of their respective offices to the entire satisfaction of the president. He had endeavored, on his own part, not to allow his private views to interfere with them in the performance of those duties; but he now found himself compelled to take part in the dispute. That part was the noble one of pacificator. He desired most earnestly to heal the breach, and on the twenty-third of August he wrote to Jefferson on the subject. After referring to the hostilities of the Indians, and the possible intrigues of foreigners to check the growth of the United States, he said:—

“How unfortunate and how much to be regretted is it, that while we are encompassed on all sides with armed enemies and insidious friends, internal dissentions should be harrowing and tearing our vitals. The latter, to me, is the most serious, the most alarming, and the most afflicting of the two; and, without more charity for the opinions and acts of one another in governmental matters, or some more infallible criterion by which the truth of speculative opinions, before they have undergone the test of experience, are to be forejudged, than has yet fallen to the lot of fallibility, I believe it will be difficult, if not impracticable, to manage the reins of government, or to keep the parts of it together; for if, instead of laying our shoulders to the machine after measures are decided on, one pulls this way and another that, before the utility of the thing is fairly tried, it must inevitably be torn asunder, and, in my opinion, the fairest prospect of happiness and prosperity that ever was presented to man will be lost, perhaps for ever.

“My earnest wish and my fondest hope, therefore, is that instead of wounding suspicions and irritating charges there may be liberal allowances, mutual forbearances, and temporizing yieldings on all sides. Under the exercise of these, matters will go on smoothly and, if possible, more prosperously. Without them, everything must rub; the wheels of government will clog; our enemies will triumph, and, by throwing their weight into the disaffected scale, may accomplish the ruin of the goodly fabric we have been erecting.

“I do not mean to apply this advice or these observations to any particular person or character. I have given them in the same general terms to other officers of the government; because the disagreements, which have arisen from difference of opinion, and the attacks which have been made upon almost all the measures of government and most of its executive officers, have for a long time past filled me with painful sensations, and can not fail, I think, of producing unhappy consequences at home and abroad.”

To Hamilton he wrote three days afterward, expressing his regret that subjects could not be discussed with temper on the one hand, or decisions submitted to without the motives which led to them improperly implicated on the other. “When matters get to such lengths,” he said, “the natural inference is that both sides have strained the cords beyond their bearing, and that a middle course would be found the best, until experience shall have decided on the right way, or (which is not to be expected, because it is denied to mortals) there shall be some infallible rule by which we could forejudge events.

“Having premised these things, I would fain hope that liberal allowances will be made for the political opinions of each other, and, instead of those wounding suspicions and irritating charges with which some of our gazettes are so strongly impregnated, and which can not fail, if persevered in, of pushing matters to extremity and thereby tearing the machine asunder, that there may be mutual forbearance and temporizing yielding on all sides. Without these, I do not see how the reins of government are to be managed, or how the union of the states can be much longer preserved.... My earnest wish is that balsam may be poured into all the wounds which have been given, to prevent them from gangrening, and from those fatal consequences which the community may sustain if it is withheld.”

These letters were answered by Hamilton and Jefferson on the same day (September the ninth), one dated at Philadelphia and the other at Monticello. “I most sincerely regret,” wrote Hamilton, “the causes of the uneasy sensations you experience. It is my most anxious wish, as far as may depend upon me, to smooth the path of your administration, and to render it prosperous and happy. And if any prospect shall open of healing or terminating the differences which exist, I shall most cheerfully embrace it, though I consider myself as the deeply injured party. The recommendation of such a spirit is worthy of the moderation and wisdom which dictated it. And if your endeavors should prove unsuccessful, I do not hesitate to say that, in my opinion, the period is not remote when the public good will require substitutes for the differing members of your administration. The continuance of a division must destroy the energy of government, which will be little enough with the strictest union. On my part there will be the most cheerful acquiescence in such a result.

“I trust, sir, that the greatest frankness has always marked, and will always mark, every step of my conduct toward you. In this disposition, I can not conceal from you that I have had some instrumentality of late in the retaliations which have fallen upon certain public characters, and that I find myself placed in a situation not to be able to recede for the present.

“I considered myself as compelled to this conduct by reasons, public as well as personal, of the most cogent nature. I know that I have been an object of uniform opposition from Mr. Jefferson, from the moment of his coming to the city of New York to enter upon his present office. I know from the most authentic sources that I have been the frequent subject of the most unkind whispers and insinuations from the same quarter. I have long seen a formed party in the legislature, under his auspices, bent upon my subversion. I can not doubt, from the evidence I possess, that the National Gazette was instituted by him for political purposes, and that one leading object of it has been to render me and all the measures connected with my department as odious as possible. Nevertheless, I can truly say, that, except explanations to confidential friends, I never, directly or indirectly, retaliated or countenanced retaliation till very lately. I can even assure you that I was instrumental in preventing a very severe and systematic attack upon Mr. Jefferson by an association of two or three individuals, in consequence of the persecution which he brought upon the vice-president by his indiscreet and light letter to the printer, transmitting Paine's pamphlet.

“As long as I saw no danger to the government from the machinations which were going on, I resolved to be a silent sufferer of the injuries which were done me. I determined to avoid giving occasion to anything which could manifest to the world dissentions among the principal characters of the government—a thing which can never happen without weakening its hands, and in some degree throwing a stigma upon it.

“But when I no longer doubted that there was a formed party deliberately bent upon the subversion of measures, which in its consequences would subvert the government; when I saw that the undoing of the funding system in particular (which, whatever may be the original merits of that system, would prostrate the credit and honor of the nation, and bring the government into contempt with that description of men who are in every society the only firm supporters of government) was an avowed object of the party, and that all possible pains were taking to produce that effect by rendering it odious to the body of the people, I considered it as a duty to endeavor to resist the torrent, and, as an effectual means to this end, to draw aside the veil from the principal actors. To this strong impulse, to this decided conviction, I have yielded, and I think events will prove that I have judged rightly.

“Nevertheless, I pledge my honor to you, sir, that if you shall hereafter form a plan to reunite the members of your administration upon some steady principle of co-operation, I will faithfully concur in executing it during my continuance in office; and I will not, directly or indirectly, say or do anything that shall endanger a feud.”

Mr. Jefferson answered Washington, that no one regretted the dissentions in the cabinet more than himself. “Though I take to myself,” he said, “no more than my share of the general observations of your letter, yet I am so desirous even that you should know the whole truth, and believe no more than the whole truth, that I am glad to seize every occasion of developing to you whatever I do or think relative to the government, and shall therefore ask permission to be more lengthy now than the occasion particularly calls for, or would otherwise, perhaps, justify.

“When I embarked in the government, it was with a determination to intermeddle not at all with the legislature, and as little as possible with my co-departments. The first and only instance of variance from the former part of my resolution I was duped into by the secretary of the treasury, and made a tool for forwarding his schemes, not then sufficiently understood by me; and of all the errors of my political life, this has occasioned me the deepest regret.... If it has been supposed that I have ever intrigued among the members of the legislature to defeat the plans of the secretary of the treasury, it is contrary to all truth.... That I have utterly, in my private conversations, disapproved of the system of the secretary of the treasury I acknowledge and avow; and this was not merely a speculative difference. His system flowed from principles adverse to liberty, and was calculated to undermine and demolish the republic by creating an influence of his department over the members of the legislature. I saw this influence actually produced, and its first fruits to be the establishment of the great outlines of his project, by the votes of the very persons who, having swallowed his bait, were laying themselves out to profit by his plans; and that, had these persons withdrawn, as those interested in a question ever should, the vote of the disinterested majority was clearly the reverse of what they made it. These were no longer the votes, then, of the representatives of the people, but of deserters from the rights and interests of the people.”

Mr. Jefferson then proceeded to justify his opinions and conduct, and to defend himself against Hamilton's charges in Fenno's paper, which were: first, that he (Jefferson) had written letters from Europe to his friends in America to oppose the constitution while it was depending; second, with a desire not to pay the public debt; third, with setting up a paper to decry and slander the government. Jefferson pronounced all these charges false. He declared that no man approved of more of the constitution than himself—vastly more than Hamilton did; and that he was ever anxious to pay the public debt. “This,” he said, “makes exactly the difference between Colonel Hamilton's views and my own. I would wish the debt paid to-morrow; he wishes it never to be paid, but always to be a thing wherewith to corrupt and manage the legislature.”

Mr. Jefferson acknowledged that he favored the establishment of Freneau's newspaper for reasons already alluded to,[38] because he thought juster views of European affairs might be obtained through publications from the Leyden Gazette than any other foreign source.

“On the establishment of his paper,” said Mr. Jefferson, “I furnished him with the Leyden Gazettes, with an expression of my wish that he would always translate and publish the material intelligence they contained; and I continued to furnish them from time to time, as regularly as I received them. But as to any other direction or indication of my wish, how his press should be conducted, what sort of intelligence he should give, what essays encourage, I can protest, in the presence of Heaven, that I never did by myself or any other, directly or indirectly, write, dictate, or procure any one sentiment or sentence to be inserted in his or any other gazette, to which my name was not affixed, or that of my office.”

While Jefferson avowed his desire for harmony in the cabinet, he felt the lash of Hamilton too keenly to accept reconciliation with him. He avowed his intention to retire from his office at the close of the president's term; and intimating an intention to make an appeal to the country over his own signature, he said: “To a thorough disregard of the honors and emoluments of office I join as great a value for the esteem of my countrymen; and conscious of having merited it by an integrity which can not be reproached, and by an enthusiastic devotion to their rights and liberty, I will not suffer my retirement to be clouded by the slanders of a man whose history, from the moment at which history can stoop to notice him, is a tissue of machinations against the liberty of the country which has not only received and given him bread, but heaped its honors on his head.”[39]

The spirit of Jefferson's letter afforded Washington no hope for reconciliation between the secretaries. The contrast between his and Hamilton's was remarkable. Hamilton held affectionate, courteous, forbearing, and patriotic language toward the president; Jefferson's exhibited much of the opposite qualities; and his implacable hatred of the man whom he had scourged into active retaliation is very marked. It gave Washington great pain, for he had the highest esteem for the contestants.

At that time there were grave reasons why officers of the cabinet should for the moment forget personal difficulties, and come as a unit to the aid of the president. There were signs of disorder, and violence, and serious insurrection in the land. The excise law enacted in 1791, and modified and made less offensive during the last session of Congress, was yet vehemently opposed in some parts of the country. In western Pennsylvania, in particular, hostility to it had become the sentiment of an organized party, and combinations were formed to prevent the execution of it. A public meeting was held at Pittsburgh on the twenty-first of August, at which resolutions were adopted disapproving of the law, and appointing a committee to correspond with other committees in different parts of the Union on the subject. It was really a rebellious movement, as the temper of their closing resolution indicated.[40]

Information of these proceedings having reached the secretary of the treasury, he sent to the president all necessary papers on the subject for his information, assuring him that he should submit to the attorney-general the question whether the persons composing the meeting at Pittsburgh had not committed an indictable offence. He gave it as his opinion that it was expedient to exert the full form of the law against the offenders. “If this is not done,” he said, “the spirit of disobedience will naturally extend, and the authority of the government will be prostrated. Moderation enough has been shown: it is time to assume a different tune.” In subsequent letters he recommends the issuing of a proclamation on the subject by the president, and sent a draft of one to Washington. The president approved the measure, submitted it to Jefferson, and on the fifteenth of September he issued a proclamation, countersigned by the secretary of state, in which he warned all persons to desist from such unlawful combinations and proceedings, and requiring all courts, magistrates, and officers to bring the offenders to justice. Copies of this proclamation were sent to the governor of Pennsylvania, and also to the chief magistrates of North and South Carolina, where a similar defiance of law has been manifested.

In this matter Washington proceeded with great prudence and caution. He felt indignant at the great outrage thus offered to the government, but was unwilling to employ force while more peaceful measures were left untried. “I have no doubt,” he said, “the proclamation will undergo many strictures; and, as the effect proposed may not be answered by it, it will be necessary to look forward in time to ulterior arrangements:” that is to say, the employment of regular troops as a last resort.

As Washington intimated it might not, the proclamation produced no salutary effect. Too many of the civil magistrates themselves were concerned in the insurrectionary movements, and the few who were not were totally incapable of maintaining the sovereignty of the laws. With moderation the government instituted legal proceedings against the offenders; liquors distilled in the rebellious counties were seized on their way to market by revenue officers; and the agents of the army were directed to purchase only those spirits upon which a duty had been paid. Having their interests thus touched, the manufacturers of liquors would gladly have complied with the laws, but the people would not allow them. Subsequently, more serious defiance of the laws in western Pennsylvania compelled the president to order a military force into that region. This we will consider hereafter.

At the middle of October, Washington made another and last effort to restore peace to his cabinet. Jefferson had recently returned to Philadelphia, and his first care was to forward to the president extracts from his letter written while the adoption of the constitution was pending, Washington wrote to him on the eighteenth, and said: “I did not require the evidence of the extracts, which you enclosed to me, to convince me of your attachment to the constitution of the United States, or of your disposition to promote the general welfare of this country: but I regret, deeply regret, the difference in opinions which have divided you and another principal officer of the government, and I wish devoutly there would be an accommodation of them by mutual yieldings.

“A measure of this sort would produce harmony and consequent good in our public councils. The contrary will inevitably introduce confusion and serious mischiefs—and for what? Because mankind can not think alike, but would adopt different means to attain the same end. For I will frankly and solemnly declare, that I believe the views of both of you to be pure and well meant, and that experience only will decide with respect to the salutariness of the measures which are the subjects of dispute. Why, then, when some of the best citizens in the United States—men of discernment, uniform and tried patriots, who have no sinister views to promote, but are chaste in their ways of thinking and acting—are to be found some on one side and some on the other of the questions which have caused these agitations, should either of you be so tenacious of your opinions as to make no allowances for those of the other? I could, and indeed was about to, add more on this interesting subject, but will forbear, at least for the present, after expressing a wish that the cup which has been presented to us may not be snatched from our lips by a discordance of action, when I am persuaded there is no discordance in your views. I have a great, a sincere esteem and regard for you both, and ardently wish that some line may be marked out by which both of you could walk.”

Washington's efforts were unavailing. The breach between Hamilton and Jefferson was too wide and deep to be healed, and the president determined to check, as much as possible, if he could not control their hostility. In one thing, however, these men, sincere patriots at heart, perfectly agreed, namely, a desire that Washington should consent to a re-election. As we have already observed, such being the universal wish of the people, Washington reluctantly consented, and he was again chosen president of the United States by a unanimous vote of the electoral college.

FOOTNOTES:

[38]See page 198

[39] For the correspondence in full, see Hamilton's Works, volume iv; Sparks's Life and Writings of Washington, volume x; Randall's Life of Jefferson, volume ii.

[40] The following is the resolution referred to: “That, whereas some men may be found amongst us, so far lost to every sense of virtue and feeling for the distresses of this country as to accept offices for the collection of the duty: Resolved, that in future we will consider such persons as unworthy of our friendship, have no intercourse or dealings with them, withdraw from them every assistance, withhold all the comforts of life which depend upon those duties that as men and fellow-citizens we owe to each other, and upon all occasions treat them with that contempt they deserve; and that it be, and is hereby, most earnestly recommended to the people at large to follow the same line of conduct toward them.”

CHAPTER XIX.

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foreign relations of the united states—europe and the united states—the federalists a conservative party—aspect of the french revolution—washington doubts its success—increase of the republican party—washington's re-election—gouverneur morris in france—other ministers—gloomy forebodings—jefferson's impatience—troubles of the french king—lafayette in difficulty—tuilleries attacked and the king dethroned—reign of terror—lafayette's flight, arrest, and imprisonment—bloody work in paris—jefferson justifies the jacobins—washington's sympathy for lafayette's family—appeal of the marchioness—washington powerless to aid.

The foreign relations of the United States were at this time peculiar and somewhat anomalous. Popular sentiment, the expression of the sovereignty of the nation, was mixed in character and yet crude in form, and it was difficult to discern precisely in what relation it stood to the disturbed nationalities of Europe. Separated from the old world by a vast ocean, the public mind here was not so immediately and powerfully acted upon by passing events as it would have been, if only an imaginary line of political demarcation had been drawn between the new republic and convulsed communities; and its manifestations were less demonstrative than implied.

All Europe was effervescing with antagonistic ideas; and the wisest and the best men in the old world stood in wonder and awe in the midst of the upheaval of social and political systems that were hoary with age, and apparently as settled in their places as the oceans and continents. France, the old ally and friend of the United States, was the centre of the volcanic force that was shaking the nations; and with instinctive motion the potentates, alarmed for the stability of their thrones, had assumed the attitude of implacable enemies to the new power that was bearing rule in that kingdom. As the car of revolution rolled onward, carrying King Louis to the scaffold, they felt the hot breath of avenging justice upon their own foreheads, and they called out their legions for defence and to utter a solemn and effective protest. The people were awed in the presence of gleaming bayonets. In the autumn of 1792, nearly all Europe was in arms against France.

In the United States, where revolution had done its work nobly and wisely, and the experiment of self-government was working successfully, sympathy for the struggling people of France and of all Europe was powerful and untrammelled. Without inquiry, it cheered on the patriots of France, with Lafayette at their head, when they were struggling for a constitution; and when it was gained, and the king accepted it, great satisfaction was felt by every American citizen in whose bosom glowed the love of freedom for its own sake. With this feeling was mingled a dislike of Great Britain; first, because the remembrance of her oppression and her warfare against the independence of the United States were fresh in the minds of the American people; secondly, because her government yet refused compliance with the terms of a solemn treaty made ten years before; and, thirdly, because her attitude was hostile to the republican movement in France. Thus old alliances and old hatreds, and a desire to see all people free, made those of the United States sympathize strongly with those of France in their revolutionary movements, and to hate the enemies of that nation in its avowed struggle for liberty.

But there were wise, and prudent, and thoughtful men in the United States, who had made the science of government a study, and human nature their daily reading, who perceived principles of self-destruction in the French constitution. They saw its want of balances, and the course of the representatives under it, which must inevitably allow the gallery to rule the legislature, and mobs to give color to the opinions of the executive. They clearly perceived, what Lafayette and his compatriots had already deeply lamented, that the true elements of self-government did not belong to the French nation; that with liberty they were rapidly degenerating into licentiousness; and that the constitution must prove as powerless as a rope of sand in restraining the passions of the people. And some of them, as we have seen, who wrote or spoke in favor of a well-balanced and potent government were branded by ungenerous men as the advocates of royalty and aristocracy, and held up to the people as traitors to republicanism, and fit subjects for the finger of scorn to point at. They were charged with blind prejudice in favor of British institutions, and as conspirators for the re-establishment of British rule in America. But the conservative or federal party, as they were called, were more powerful if not so numerous as their opponents; and when Europe armed against the old ally of the United States, the government of the latter, professedly representing the popular sentiment, was so restrained by the wise caution of those who held the sceptre of political power, that it presented the anomalous character of a warm-hearted, deeply-sympathizing champion of freedom, apparently in the ranks of the enemies of liberty.

Washington had hailed with satisfaction the dawn of popular liberty in France, and earnestly desired the success of those who were working for the establishment of republicanism there; but his wisdom and sagacity evidently made him doubtful of their success, even from the beginning. In the course of his correspondence, we find him often expressing earnest wishes for the happy results concerning which Lafayette had dreamed so fondly, but he never expressed a hope, because he never felt it; and when, in the summer and autumn of 1792, the Revolution in France assumed a bloody and ferocious character, and the noble goal toward which his friend the marquis had so enthusiastically pressed was utterly lost sight of in the midst of the lurid smoke of a self-constituted tyranny, as bad in feature and act as the foulest on history's records, he was disgusted, and with the conservative party, then fortunately holding the reins of executive and legislative power, he resolved that the government of the United States should stand aloof from all entanglements with European politics.

The doctrines of Jefferson and his party, having sympathy with the French Revolution and enmity to Great Britain among its prime elements, was rapidly gaining ground in the United States, because the avowed principles of that party were in accordance with the proclivities of the great mass of the people, who were moved by passion rather than by reason. Yet that very people, although aware of the sentiments of Washington and his supporters in the government, re-elected him by unanimous voice, thereby showing their great love for, and unbounded confidence in, the man of men. John Adams, who was again a candidate for the vice-presidency, was opposed by Governor George Clinton of New York, and was elected by not a large majority. He received in the electoral college seventy votes, and Clinton fifty. The Kentucky electors voted for Jefferson for the same office, and one vote was cast by a South Carolina delegate for Aaron Burr.

We have just hinted at the progress of violence in France in the autumn of 1792. Let us take a nearer view for a moment; for such scrutiny is necessary to the elucidation of political events in the United States a few months later.

Gouverneur Morris, who, as we have seen, was sent on a semi-official embassy to England, was appointed full minister at the French court, after Jefferson's retirement from that post. Mr. Morris was a federalist, and his appointment was not pleasant to Mr. Jefferson and his political friends. With Morris's commission, the president wrote a friendly, and at the same time admonitory, letter to the new minister. He frankly enumerated all the objections that had been made to his appointment, and intimated that he thought the charge of his being a favorite with the aristocracy in France, and anti-republican in his sentiments, especially as regarded the French Revolution, were too well founded upon the tenor of his conduct. “Not to go further into detail,” he said, “I will place the ideas of your political adversaries in the light in which their arguments have presented them to me, namely: that the promptitude with which your lively and brilliant imagination displays itself allows too little time for deliberation and correction, and is the primary cause of those sallies which too often offend, and of that ridicule of character which begets enmity not easy to be forgotten, but which might easily be avoided if it were under the control of more caution and prudence. In a word, that it is indispensably necessary that more circumspection should be observed by our representatives abroad than they conceive you are inclined to adopt. In this statement you have the pros and cons. By reciting them I give you a proof of my friendship, if I give none of my policy or judgment. I do it on the presumption that a mind conscious of its own rectitude fears not what is said of it, but will bid defiance to shafts, that are not baited with accusations against honor or integrity. Of my good opinion and of my friendship and regard you may be assured.”

Count de Moustier had been succeeded as French minister to the United States by M. Ternant, a more agreeable gentleman; and diplomatic intercourse had been opened with Great Britain, by the arrival of Mr. Hammond as minister plenipotentiary of that government, in the previous autumn, and the appointment, on the part of the United States, of Thomas Pinckney, of South Carolina, as minister to the court of St. James. Mr. Hammond was the first minister Great Britain had deigned to send to the United States, and John Adams was the only person who had been sent in the same capacity from his government to the British court. For some years there had been no diplomatic intercourse between the two countries.

Mr. Morris arrived in Paris, in May, 1792, and on the second of June he was introduced to the king and queen. Two days afterward he presented a letter from the president to his majesty—a letter which, according to Morris, gave several members of the corps diplomatique a high idea of Washington's wisdom. “It is not relished by the democrats,” Morris wrote to the president, “who particularly dislike the term 'your people;' but it suits well the prevailing temper, which is monarchical.” Mr. Morris was very active in his duties there; and while he communicated officially to Jefferson and Hamilton everything necessary for them to know, he kept Washington constantly apprized, by both public and private letters, of the true state of affairs in France, His accounts revealed shocking scenes of anarchy and licentiousness in the French capital. He truly represented that Lafayette, in endeavoring to check excesses, had lost his popularity. “Were he to appear just now in Paris,” he wrote, “unattended by his army, he would be torn to pieces.” These tidings gave Washington great concern; while Jefferson, because of the gloomy future which these letters foreshadowed and the unfavorable commentary which they made upon the French Revolution, was very impatient. With his blind devotion to democracy, and his ungenerous judgment concerning all who differed from him, he spoke of Morris as “a high-flying monarchy man, shutting his eyes and his faith to every fact against his wishes, and believing everything he desired to be true,” and keeping the president's mind “constantly poisoned with his forebodings.”

Almost the next vessel from Europe rebuked these unfair expressions, by confirming the most gloomy anticipations of Morris. Anarchy had seized upon unhappy France. From the head of his army at Maubeuge, Lafayette had sent a letter to the National Assembly, denouncing in unmeasured terms the conduct of the Jacobin club as inimical to the king and constitution; but it was of no avail. Day after day the disorder in the capital increased; and on the twentieth of June the populace, one hundred thousand in number, professedly incensed because the king had refused to sanction a decree of the National Assembly against the priesthood, and another for the establishment of a camp of twenty thousand men near Paris, marched to the Tuilleries with pikes, swords, muskets, and artillery, and demanded entrance. The gates were finally thrown open, and at least forty thousand armed men went through the palace and compelled the king, in the presence of his family, to put the bonnet rouge, or red cap of liberty, upon his head.

Hearing of these movements, Lafayette hastened to Paris, presented himself at the bar of the National Assembly, and in the name of the army demanded the punishment of those who had thus insulted the king in his palace and violated the constitution. But he was powerless. A party had determined to abolish royalty. On the third of August, Pelíon, in the Assembly, demanded that the king should be excluded from the throne. The unhappy monarch, perceiving the destructive storm that was impending, endeavored on the sixth to escape from the Tuilleries in the garb of a peasant. He was discovered by a sentinel, and all Paris was thrown into the greatest commotion. Two days afterward the Assembly, by a handsome majority, acquitted Lafayette of serious charges made against him by the Jacobins. The populace were dissatisfied, and, as they could not touch the general, they determined that the king whom he supported should be deposed. Members of the assembly who had voted in favor of Lafayette were insulted by armed men who surrounded the legislative hall; and the national legislature declared their sitting permanent until order should be restored.

At midnight on the ninth of August the tocsin was sounded in every quarter, and the generale was beat. Early the next morning the Tuilleries were attacked by the populace, and the king and his family, attended by the Swiss guard, fled for protection to the National Assembly. In the conflict that ensued nearly every man of that guard was butchered, and the National Assembly decreed the suspension of the king's authority.

Monarchy in France was now overthrown, and with it fell Lafayette and the constitutional party. All were involved in one common ruin. The Jacobins denounced the marquis in the National Assembly, procured a decree for his arrest, and sent emissaries to seize him. Then the Reign of Terror was inaugurated.

At first Lafayette resolved to go to Paris and boldly confront his accusers. It would have been madness. He perceived it, and, yielding to the force of circumstances, set off from his camp at Sedan, with a few faithful friends, to seek a temporary asylum in Holland until he could make his way to the United States. But he and his companions were first detained at Rochefort, the first Austrian post, and afterward cast into a dungeon at Olmutz.

When intelligence of these events reached Washington he was greatly shocked, and the sad fate of his friend grieved him sorely. Every arrival from Europe brought tidings still more dreadful than the last. “We have had a week of unchecked murders,” Morris wrote to Jefferson on the tenth of September, “in which some thousands have perished in this city. It began with two or three hundred of the clergy, who had been shut up because they would not take the oaths prescribed by the law, and which they said were contrary to their conscience. Thence these executors of speedy justice went to the Abbaye, where the persons were confined who were at court on the tenth of August. These were despatched also, and afterward they visited the other prisons. All those who were confined either on the accusation or suspicion of crimes were destroyed.”

Morris then detailed other horrors; yet Mr. Jefferson, looking upon the whole movement against monarchy and aristocracy as essentially right, and based upon the same principles as that of the American Revolution, persisted in regarding the Jacobins, who were the chief promoters of these bloody deeds, and who had laid violent hands on the constitution and its supporters, as “republican patriots.” He was shocked, but was neither disappointed nor very sorrowful. He looked upon the whole affair as an indispensable struggle of freemen in the abolition of monarchy and all its prerogatives and injustice; and he deplored the death of the innocent who had fallen, but only as he should have done “had they fallen in battle.” “The liberty of the whole earth,” he said, “was depending on the issue of the contest; and was ever such a prize won with so little innocent blood? My own affections have been deeply wounded by some of the martyrs to this cause,” he continued; “but rather than that it should have failed, I would have seen half the earth desolated. Were there but an Adam and Eve left in every country, and left free, it would have been better than it now is.”

When fully assured of Lafayette's fate, Washington felt an ardent desire to befriend his family, consisting of his wife and young children. He knew that their situation, in the raging storm, must be dreadful at the best; and on the first information of their probable residence, at the close of January, 1793, he addressed the following letter to the marchioness:—

“If I had words that could convey to you an adequate idea of my feelings on the present situation of the Marquis de Lafayette, this letter would appear to you in a different garb. The sole object in writing to you now is, to inform you that I have deposited in the hands of Mr. Nicholas Van Staphorst, of Amsterdam, two thousand three hundred and ten guilders, Holland currency, equal to two hundred guineas, subject to your orders.

“This sum is, I am certain, the least I am indebted for services rendered to me by the Marquis de Lafayette, of which I never yet have received the account. I could add much; but it is best, perhaps, that I should say little on this subject. Your goodness will supply my deficiency.

“The uncertainty of your situation, after all the inquiries I have made, has occasioned a delay in this address and remittance; and, even now, the measure adopted is more the effect of a desire to find where you are, than from any knowledge I have obtained of your residence.”

Soon after this letter was despatched, Washington received one from the marchioness, dated at Chavaniac on the eighth of October, 1792, which came by the way of England. It was accompanied by a letter from an English farmer who had resided several months in the family of Lafayette, in which, speaking of the marchioness, he said: “Her present situation is truly affecting; separated from her husband without the means of hearing from him, herself in captivity under the safeguard of the municipality, she is anxiously expecting the decision of his and her own destiny. Under these circumstances, she relies on your influence to adopt such measures as may effectuate their mutual freedom.”

The marchioness was then a prisoner, in utter ignorance of the real fate of her husband. She had been commanded by the Jacobins to repair to Paris about the time when the attack was made upon the Tuilleries and the destruction of the Swiss guard; but they subsequently allowed her to reside at the place from which her letter was dated. In that letter she made a solemn appeal to Washington and the nation to aid her in procuring the liberty of her husband. “He was taken by the troops of the emperor,” she said, “although the king of Prussia retains him a prisoner in his dominions. And while he suffers this inconceivable persecution from the enemies without, the faction which reigns within keeps me a hostage at one hundred and twenty leagues from the capital. Judge, then, at what distance I am from him. In this abyss of misery, the idea of owing to the United States and to Washington the life and liberty of M. de Lafayette kindles a ray of hope in my heart. I hope everything from the goodness of the people with whom he has set an example of that liberty of which he is now made the victim. And shall I dare speak what I hope? I would ask of them through you for an envoy, who shall go to reclaim him in the name of the republic of the United States wheresoever he may be found, and who shall be authorized to make, with the power in whose charge he may be placed, all necessary engagements for his release, and for taking him to the United States, even if he is there to be guarded as a captive. If his wife and his children could be comprised in this mission, it is easy to judge how happy it would be for her and for them; but if this would in the least degree retard or embarrass the measure, we will defer still longer the happiness of a reunion. May Heaven deign to bless the confidence with which it has inspired me! I hope my request is not a rash one.”

Washington was powerless to aid his friend. His heart yearned to do so, but there were no means that, in the then political condition of Europe, could be used with any hope of success, except giving unofficial instructions to American ministers abroad to make every effort in their power to procure his release, and this was done. “The United States,” says Sparks, “had neither authority to make demands, nor power to enforce them. They had no immediate intercourse with Prussia or Austria, and were in no condition to ask the favors or avenge the tyranny of the rulers of those countries, who were only responsible for the treatment of Lafayette, and whose pleasure it was, if not their policy and interest, to keep him in chains.”

The whole matter was very painful to Washington, especially as a great delay in his letter made the marchioness feel that she was neglected by her husband's dearest friend, and that husband deserted by the nation for whose freedom he had so nobly fought. Referring to a former letter, she said:—

“Has this letter reached you? Was it necessary that it should arrive to excite your interest? I can not believe it. But I confess that your silence, and the abandonment of M. de Lafayette and his family for the last six months, are of all our evils the most inexplicable to me.” Then assuring Washington that the fate of her husband was in a measure in the hands of the president and government of the United States, and that she, not allowed to have any communication with him, could do nothing for him, she said, “I will only add that my confidence in General Washington, though severely tried, remains firm, and that I dare make to him a tender of my homage, and of my high esteem of his character.”

Although Lafayette was a citizen of the United States, an American officer, and no more in the French service, his adopted government could do nothing effectual in his behalf, and for three years he lay in the dungeon at Olmutz. His wife and daughter were permitted to share his dungeon life; and finally his eldest son, bearing the name of Washington, came to seek an asylum in the United States. His reception here we shall consider hereafter.

CHAPTER XX.

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clouds gathering—jealousy of executive influence—angry party debates—calls for information respecting financial affairs—hamilton charged with being a defaulter—his reply and the result—veneration for washington touched by party rancor—forms to be observed at his second inauguration—the ceremony—account by an eye-witness—washington called to mount vernon—death of his nephew—intelligence of declaration of war against england by france—of the death of king louis—excitement in the united states in favor of the french revolutionists—popular manifestations of sympathy in boston and elsewhere—dangerous tendency of that sympathy—citizen genet and his mission—washington hastens back to philadelphia—cabinet council—proclamation of neutrality—opposition to the measure.

When the last session of the second Congress commenced in Philadelphia on the fifth of November, 1792, ominous clouds were gathering in the political horizon, which gave Washington many apprehensions of an impending storm. Party spirit was growing more and more violent; war with the Indians in the Northwest was progressing; discontents with the operations of the excise laws were assuming alarming aspects; the attitude of the European governments brought serious questions to those who controlled public affairs in the United States; and the cabinet, where unity of feeling was necessary in order to counsel the president well, was yet torn by dissentions, with no prospect of their being healed.

There was much apparent good feeling among the members of Congress when they first met, but action upon public business soon aroused party spirit in all its rancor. It was first summoned from its sleep by a motion for the secretaries of war and of the treasury to attend the house, and give such information as they might possess concerning the conduct of the Indian war in the Northwest, with which there was much public dissatisfaction. This proposition raised a cry of alarm from those in the house opposed to the administration. It was resisted as unconstitutional, and threatening to subject the house to executive influence that might be dangerous—that heads of departments would control the legislature.

A motion to refer the portion of the president's message relating to the redemption of the public debt to the secretary of the treasury, to report a plan, called forth still more angry opposition, and Jefferson's charges of corruption were heard on every side. The secretary of the treasury was violently assailed; and dark insinuations were made that members of the house were implicated with Hamilton in dishonest proceedings in relation to the assumption of state debts, the operation of the Indian war, etc. And when Hamilton, in his report, offered a scheme for the redemption of the public debt that effectually silenced the clamors of his enemies, who had insisted that he regarded that debt as a public blessing and meant to fix it upon the country as an incubus, they changed their plans of opposition.

They called upon the president first for particular information as to the several sums of money borrowed by his authority, the terms of the loans, and the application of the money. These questions being explicitly answered, another call was made by an unscrupulous member of the opposition, from Virginia, for more minute information upon financial matters. He made an elaborate speech in presenting the motion, in which, in effect, he charged the secretary of the treasury with being a defaulter to the amount of a million and a half of dollars! Other charges having a similar bearing upon the integrity of Hamilton were made, and the administration was most foully aspersed. The speaker—acting, it was believed, under the influence of his superiors in office—based his charges upon the letter of returns and other treasury statements.

These charges were met by Hamilton in a calm and dignified report, which ought to have disarmed malignity and made implacable party spirit hide its head in shame. It was baffled for a moment, but not dismayed; and, selecting points in the secretary's management of the financial concerns of the government, the accuser already alluded to proceeded to frame nine resolutions of censure, for which he asked the vote of the house. The result was, says a careful and candid historian, “much to raise the character of the secretary of the treasury, by convincing the great body of impartial men, capable of understanding the subject, that, both as regarded talent and integrity, he was admirably qualified for his office, and that the multiplied charges against him had been engendered by envy, suspicion, and ignorance.”[41]

1793

Up to this time, the opposition had not ventured to show any disrespect to Washington. He had wisely avoided assuming in any degree the character of a leader of a party, and had labored with conscientious zeal for the public good, without the least regard to private friendships, or with feelings of enmity toward personal friends who had deserted his administration. Madison was now a leader of the opposition, yet Washington esteemed him none the less, because he believed him to be honest and patriotic.

But now, party rancor was gradually usurping the place of that veneration which every man felt for the character of Washington; and that jealousy of everything aristocratic in fact or appearance which was at that moment inaugurating a republic in France, with a baptism of blood, hesitated not to show personal disrespect to the president. The people in different parts of the Union, with spontaneous affection, prepared to celebrate the birthday of Washington on the twenty-second of February, 1793, with balls, parties, visits of congratulation, etc. Many members of Congress were desirous of waiting upon the president, in testimony of their respect for the chief magistrate of the republic, and a motion was made to adjourn for half an hour for that purpose, when quite an acrimonious debate ensued. The opposition, with real or feigned alarm, denounced the proposition as a species of homage unworthy of republicans; a tendency to monarchy; the setting up of an idol for hero-worship, dangerous to the liberties of the nation! Freneau's paper condemned the birthday celebration; and in view of the great dangers to which the republic was exposed by the monarchical bias of many leading men, a New Jersey member of the republican party in the house moved that the mace carried by the marshall on state occasions—“an unmeaning symbol, unworthy the dignity of a republican government”—be sent to the mint, broken up, and the silver coined and placed in the treasury. The peculiar state of public feeling at that time, irritated by prophets of evil, affords a reasonable excuse for these jealousies.

Washington was not unmindful of these signs, and the necessity of paying due respect even to the prejudices of the people; and as the time for his second inauguration was drawing near, he asked the opinions of his cabinet concerning the forms to be used on that occasion. Jefferson and Hamilton proposed that he should take the oath of office privately at his own house, a certificate of the fact to be deposited in the state department. Knox and Randolph proposed to have the ceremony in public, but without any ostentatious display. Washington's opinion coincided with the latter; and at a cabinet meeting held on the first of March, Mr. Jefferson being the only absentee, it was agreed that the oath should be administered by Judge Cushing, of the supreme court of the United States, in public, in the senate chamber, on the fourth of the month, at twelve o'clock at noon, and that the “president go without form, attended by such gentlemen as he shall choose, and return without form except that he be preceded by the marshall.”

Accordingly, a little before twelve o'clock, the president rode from his residence to the Congress hall in his cream-colored coach drawn by six horses, preceded by the marshall, as proposed, and accompanied by a great concourse of citizens, and took the oath in the senate chamber. The heads of departments, foreign ministers, members of Congress, and as many spectators as could find room in the apartment, were present. Previous to the administration of the oath by Judge Cushing, Washington arose and said:—

“Fellow-citizens: I am again called upon by the voice of my country to execute the functions of its chief magistrate. When the occasion proper for it shall arrive, I shall endeavor to express the high sense I entertain of this distinguished honor, and of the confidence which has been reposed in me by the people of the United States of America. Previous to the execution of any official act of the president, the constitution requires an oath of office. This oath I am now about to take, and in your presence; that if it shall be found, during my administration of the government, I have in any instance violated, willingly or knowingly, the injunction thereof, I may, besides incurring constitutional punishment, be subject to the upbraidings of all who are now witnesses of the present solemn ceremony.”

The oath was then administered, and the president returned to his residence as he came.[42]

It was with sincere reluctance that Washington entered upon the duties of the office of chief magistrate of the nation for a second term. “To you,” he said in a letter to Colonel Humphreys (then abroad) soon after his inauguration—“To you, who know my love of retirement and domestic life, it is unnecessary to say, that in accepting this reappointment I relinquish those personal enjoyments to which I am peculiarly attached. The motives which induced my acceptance are the same which ever ruled my decision when the public desire—or, as my countrymen are pleased to denominate it, the public good—was placed in the scale against my personal enjoyments and private interest. The latter I have ever considered as subservient to the former; and perhaps in no instance of my life have I been more sensible of the sacrifice than at the present; for at my age the love of retirement grows every day more and more powerful, and the death of my nephew will, I apprehend, cause my private concerns to suffer very much.”[43]

On account of this death, Washington made a hurried visit to Mount Vernon in April, and while there the important intelligence reached him that France had declared war against England and Holland, an event which prophesied a general European war. Almost simultaneously with this intelligence came that of the execution of King Louis, by order of the National Convention of France. The king, who had been a mere shuttle-cock of faction for two years, was beheaded on the twenty-first of January, with circumstances of brutality which make humanity shudder. His death had been long predestinated by the ferocious men who ruled France, and, to accomplish it with a semblance of justice, he had been accused of crimes of which he was utterly innocent. Even at the last moment, when standing before the implement of death, he was made to feel the brutality of men in power. He looked complacently upon the vast multitude who came to see him die, and was about to say a few words, when the officer in charge, with ferocious emphasis, said, “No speeches! come, no speeches!” and ordered the drums to be beaten and the trumpets to be sounded. Louis was heard to say, “I forgive my enemies; may God forgive them, and not lay my innocent blood to the charge of the nation! God bless my people!” Thus perished a monarch, patriotic and amiable, but too weak in intellectual and moral power to control the terrible storm of popular vengeance which a long series of abuses had engendered.

For many months Washington had watched with great anxiety the manifestations of public feeling in the United States while the bloody work of the French Revolution was progressing. He saw with alarm the spirit of that Revolution, so widely different from that which had shaken off the fetters of kingly rule in America, working insidiously into the constitution of the politics of the United States, and passion assuming the control of reason in the minds of his people. This was specially manifested by an outburst of popular feeling when the proclamation of the French republic reached America, and news that French arms had made a conquest of the Austrian Netherlands. Forgetting the friendship of Holland during our war for independence, and the spirit of genuine liberty (of which that, flaunting its bloody banners in France, was but a ferocious caricature) which had prevailed in the Netherlands and made it the asylum of the persecuted for conscience' sake for centuries, the people of Boston and other places held a celebration in honor of the temporary victory. In the New England capital there was a grand barbecue. An ox was roasted whole, and then, decorated and elevated upon a car drawn by sixteen horses, the flags of France and the United States displayed from its horns, it was paraded through the streets, followed by carts bearing sixteen hundred loaves of bread and two hogsheads of punch. These were distributed among the people; and at the same time a party of three hundred, with Samuel Adams (lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts) at their head, assisted by the French consul, sat down to dinner in Faneuil hall. To the children of all the schools, who were paraded in the streets, cakes were presented bearing the inscription, “Liberty and Equality.” By public subscription, the sums owed by prisoners for debt, in jail, were paid, and the victims were set free. There was a general jubilee in Boston on that barbecue day.

With a similar spirit the news of the death of the king was hailed by the leaders of the republican party in the United States; and when intelligence of the French declaration of war against England went over the land, a fervor of enthusiasm in favor of the old ally was awakened which called loudly for compliance with the spirit and letter of the treaty of 1778, by which the United States and France became allies in peace and war. By that treaty the United States were bound to guarantee the French possessions in America; and by a treaty of commerce executed at the same time, French privateers and prizes were entitled to shelter in the American ports, while those of the enemies of France should be excluded.

There was now a wide-spreading sentiment in favor of an active participation with France, on the part of the United States, in her struggles against armed Europe; and many, in the wild enthusiasm of the moment, would not have hesitated an instant in precipitating our country into a war. Indeed, for a while, the universal sentiment was a cheer for republican France, whose Convention had declared, in the name of the French nation, that they would grant fraternity and assistance to every people who wished to recover their liberty; and they charged the executive power to send the necessary orders to the generals “to give assistance to such people, and to defend those citizens who may have been, or who may be, vexed for the cause of liberty.”

Filled with the spirit of this declaration, and charged with the performance of political functions seldom exercised by diplomats, Edmund Charles Genet—“Citizen Genet,” as he was termed in the new nomenclature of the French republic—came to America at this time, as the representative of that republic, to supersede the more conservative M. Ternant. Genet was a man of culture, spoke the English language fluently, possessed a pleasing address, was lively, frank, and unguarded, and as fiery as the most intense Jacobins could wish. He arrived at Charleston, South Carolina, on the eighth of April, five days after the news of the French declaration of war reached New York. His presence intensified the enthusiasm with which the country was then glowing; and for a moment, until sober reason assumed the sceptre, all opposition to the revolutionary sentiment was swept away by the tide of popular zeal for a cause that seemed identical with that which secured independence to the United States. “Is it wonderful,” says the latest biographer of Jefferson, “that American popular sympathy swelled to a pitch of wild enthusiasm, when an emissary came from the new republic, surrounded with its prestige; proclaiming wild, stirring doctrines; declaring the unbounded affection of his country for the United States; scorning the arts of old diplomacy, and mixing freely with the democratic masses; not declining to talk of the important objects of his mission in promiscuous assemblies of plain working men; and exhibiting in his deportment that practical democracy, that fraternity, which men in his position, of English blood, never exhibit?”[44]

These events excited the deepest anxiety in the mind of Washington. He had no confidence whatever in the men at the head of public affairs in France—the self-constituted government of that unhappy nation. “Those in whose hands the government is intrusted,” he said in a letter to Governor Lee, “are ready to tear each other to pieces, and will, more than probably, prove the worst foes the country has.” He deeply deplored the wild enthusiasm which was threatening to involve his country in the European war then kindling. “Unwise would we be in the extreme,” he wrote to Gouverneur Morris a month before, “to involve ourselves in the contests of European nations, where our weight would be but small, though the loss to ourselves would be certain.” With such views Washington hastened back to Philadelphia; for he foresaw the necessity for announcing the disposition of his country toward the belligerent powers, and the propriety of restraining as far as possible his fellow-citizens from taking part in the contest. He immediately despatched an express to Philadelphia with the following letter to Mr. Jefferson, the secretary of state:—

“Your letter of the seventh was brought to me by the last post. War having actually commenced between France and Great Britain, it behooves the government of this country to use every means in its power to prevent the citizens thereof from embroiling us with either of those powers, by endeavoring to maintain a strict neutrality. I therefore require that you will give the subject mature consideration, that such measures as shall be deemed most likely to effect this desirable purpose may be adopted without delay; for I have understood that vessels are already designated as privateers and are preparing accordingly. Such other measures as may be necessary for us to pursue, against events which it may not be in our power to avoid or control, you will also think of, and lay them before me on my arrival in Philadelphia, for which place I will set out to-morrow.”

Washington reached Philadelphia on the seventeenth, and on the nineteenth held a cabinet council, having on the previous day submitted to each member of his cabinet the following questions for their consideration:—

1. “Shall a proclamation issue for the purpose of preventing interferences of the citizens of the United States in the war between France and Great Britain, etc.? Shall it contain a declaration of neutrality, or not? What shall it contain?

2. “Shall a minister from the republic of France be received?

3. “If received, shall it be absolutely without qualifications; and if with qualifications, of what kind?

4. “Are the United States obliged by good faith to consider the treaties heretofore made with France as applying to the present situation of the parties? May they either renounce them, or hold them suspended till the government of France shall be established?

5. “If they have the right, is it expedient to do either, and which?

6. “If they have an option, would it be a breach of neutrality to consider the treaties still in operation?

7. “If the treaties are to be considered as now in operation, is the guaranty in the treaty of alliance applicable to a defensive war only, or to war either offensive or defensive?

8. “Does the war in which France is engaged appear to be offensive or defensive on her part? or of a mixed and equivocal character?

9. “If of a mixed and equivocal character, does the guaranty, in any event, apply to such a war?

10. “What is the effect of a guaranty such as that to be found in the treaty of alliance between the United States and France?

11. “Does any article in either of the treaties prevent ships of war, other than privateers, of the powers opposed to France, from coming into the ports of the United States to act as convoys to their own merchantmen? Or does it lay any other restraint upon them more than would apply to the ships of war with France?

12. “Should the future regent of France send a minister to the United States, ought he to be received?

13. “Is it necessary or advisable to call together the two houses of Congress, with a view to the present posture of European affairs? If it is, what should be the particular object of such a call?”[45]

The cabinet meeting to consider these questions was held at the president's house. All the heads of departments and the attorney-general were present; and after a protracted discussion, it was unanimously determined that a proclamation should issue forbidding citizens of the United States to take part in any hostilities on the seas, with or against any of the belligerent powers, and warning them against carrying to any such powers any of those articles deemed contraband according to the modern usage of nations; and enjoining them from all acts and proceedings inconsistent with the duties of a friendly nation toward those at war. It was also unanimously agreed that a minister from the republic of France should be received. The remaining questions were postponed for further consideration.

In the excited state of the public mind, and the proclivity of the popular feeling toward sympathy with France, Washington's proclamation met with the severest censures. Neither his unbounded popularity nor the reverence for his character, as a wise, and honest, and patriotic man, were proof against the operations of that feeling; and the proclamation was assailed with the greatest vehemence. Every epithet in the vocabulary of the opposition party was applied to it. It was stigmatized as a royal edict, an unwarrantable and daring assumption of executive power, and an open manifestation, of the president and his political friends, of partiality for England and hostility to France. And it seems fair to infer, from his letters at that time, that Mr. Jefferson, who reluctantly voted in the cabinet for the proclamation, governed by his almost fanatical hatred of Hamilton and his sympathy with the French regicides, secretly promoted a feeling so hostile to the administration.

The wisdom of the proclamation,[46] and the position of neutrality which the government of the United States assumed at that time, was soon apparent, and has been fully vindicated by the logic of subsequent events.

FOOTNOTES:

[41] Hildreth's History of the United States, Second Series, i, 405.

[42] An eye-witness of the scene when Washington read his annual message to Congress has left a pleasant account of it on record. “As the president alighted, and, ascending the steps, paused upon the platform, looking over his shoulder, in an attitude that would have furnished an admirable subject for the pencil, he was preceded by two gentlemen bearing long white wands, who kept back the eager crowd that pressed on every side to get a nearer view. At that moment I stood so near that I might have touched his clothes; but I should as soon have thought of touching an electric battery. I was penetrated with a veneration amounting to the deepest awe. Nor was this the feeling of a schoolboy only; it pervaded, I believe, every human being that approached Washington; and I have been told that, even in his social and convivial hours, this feeling, in those who were honored to share them, never suffered intermission. I saw him a hundred times afterward, but never with any other than that same feeling. The Almighty, who raised up for our hour of need a man so peculiarly prepared for its whole dread responsibility, seems to have put an impress of sacredness upon His own instrument. The first sight of the man struck the heart with involuntary homage, and prepared everything around him to obey. When he 'addressed himself to speak,' there was an unconscious suspension of the breath, while every eye was raised in expectation.

“The president, having seated himself, remained in silence, serenely contemplating the legislature before him, whose members now resumed their seats, waiting for the speech. No house of worship, in the most solemn pauses of devotion, was ever more profoundly still than that large and crowded chamber.

“Washington was dressed precisely as Stuart has painted him in Lord Lansdowne's full-length portrait—in a full suit of the richest black velvet, with diamond knee-buckles, and square silver buckles set upon shoes japanned with the most scrupulous neatness, black silk stockings, his shirt ruffled at the breast and wrists, a light dress-sword; his hair profusely powdered, fully dressed, so as to project at the sides, and gathered behind in a silk bag, ornamented with a large rose of black riband. He held his cocked hat, which had a large black cockade on one side of it, in his hand, as he advanced toward the chair, and when seated, laid it on the table.

“At length, thrusting his hand within the side of his coat, he drew forth a roll of manuscript, which he opened, and rising held it in his hand, while, in a rich, deep, full, sonorous voice, he read his opening address to Congress. His enunciation was deliberate, justly emphasized, very distinct, and accompanied with an air of deep solemnity, as being the utterance of a mind profoundly impressed with the dignity of the act in which it was occupied, conscious of the whole responsibility of its position and action, but not oppressed by it.”

[43] This was George A. Washington, to whom had been intrusted the management of affairs at Mount Vernon during the master's absence at the seat of government. He was seized with alarming symptoms of pulmonary disease early in 1792. He was greatly beloved by Washington, and his sickness gave the president much pain, and was a frequent topic in letters to his friends. To Lafayette he wrote as early as June, 1792:—

“I am afraid my nephew George, your old aid, will never have his health perfectly re-established. He has lately been attacked with the alarming symptoms of spitting large quantities of blood, and the physicians give no hopes of restoration, unless it can be effected by a change of air and a total dereliction from business, to which he is too anxiously attentive. He will, if he should be taken from his family and friends, leave three fine children, two sons and a daughter. To the eldest of the boys he has given the name of Fayette, and a fine-looking child he is.”

To General Knox he wrote:—

“I thank you most sincerely for the medicine you were so obliging as to send for my nephew, and for the sympathetic feeling you express for his situation. Poor fellow! neither, I believe, will be of any avail. Present appearances indicate a speedy dissolution. He has not been able to leave his bed, except for a few moments to sit in an arm-chair, since the fourteenth or fifteenth of last month. The paroxysm of the disorder seems to be upon him, and death, or a favorable turn to it, must speedily follow.”

The sufferer was then residing upon a small estate in Hanover. He lingered for several weeks, and then expired; and on the twenty-fourth of February Washington wrote to his widow:—

“My Dear Fanny: To you, who so well knew the affectionate regard I had for our departed friend, it is unnecessary to describe the sorrow with which I was afflicted at the news of his death, although it was an event I had expected many weeks before it happened. To express this sorrow with the force I feel it, would answer no other purpose than to revive in your breast that poignancy of anguish, which by this time I hope is abated. The object of this letter is to convey to your mind the warmest assurance of my love, friendship, and disposition to serve you. These I also profess to bear in an eminent degree for your children.”

He then invites her to make Mount Vernon the home of herself and children. “You can go to no place,” he said, “where you will be more welcome, nor to any where you can live at less expense or trouble.”

The young widow appears to have declined the offer of a home at Mount Vernon, preferring to keep house in Alexandria, but offering to resign the charge of her eldest son, Fayette, into Washington's keeping. In March the president wrote to her, saying:—

“The carriage which I sent to Mount Vernon for your use I never intended to reclaim; and now, making you a formal present of it, it may be sent for whenever it suits your convenience and be considered as your own. I shall, when I see you, request that Fayette may be given up to me, either at that time or as soon after as he is old enough to go to school. This will relieve you of that portion of attention which his education would otherwise call for.”—Mount Vernon and its Associations, pages 264, 265.

[44] The Life of Thomas Jefferson, by Henry S. Randall, LL.D., ii, 128.

[45] Sparks's Washington, x, 533, 534.

[46] The following is copy of the proclamation:—

“Whereas it appears that a state of war exists between Austria, Prussia, Sardinia, Great Britain, and the United Netherlands, on the one part, and France on the other; and the duty and interest of the United States require that they should, with sincerity and good faith, adopt and pursue a conduct friendly and impartial toward the belligerent powers;

“I have therefore thought fit by these presents to declare the disposition of the United States to observe the conduct aforesaid towards those powers respectively; and to exhort and warn the citizens of the United States carefully to avoid all acts and proceedings whatsoever, which may in any manner tend to contravene such disposition.

“And I do hereby also make known, that whosoever of the citizens of the United States shall render himself liable to punishment or forfeiture under the laws of nations, by committing, aiding, or abetting hostilities against any of the said powers, or by carrying to them any of those articles which are deemed contraband by the modern usage of nations, will not receive the protection of the United States against such punishment or forfeiture; and further, that I have given instructions to those officers to whom it belongs, to cause prosecutions to be instituted against all persons who shall, within the cognizance of the courts of the United States, violate the law of nations with respect to the powers at war, or any of them.

“In testimony whereof, I have caused the seal of the United States of America to be affixed to these presents, and signed the same with my hand. Done at the city of Philadelphia, the twenty-second day of April, 1793, and of the independence of the United States the seventeenth.

“George Washington”

CHAPTER XXI.

TOP

genet's arrival and reception at charleston—his object in landing there—he commissions privateers—operations of two vessels—arrival of l'embuscade at philadelphia—genet's reception at philadelphia—he presents his credentials—a banquet in his honor—democratic clubs—extravagances—scenes in new york—conservative feeling triumphant—hamilton's views of the french revolution—genet's speech on presentation to the president—jefferson's suspicions—his unkind treatment of washington—genet's official letter—his demands not complied with—action of the cabinet concerning his privateering schemes.

Genet, as we have observed, landed at Charleston, in South Carolina, instead of a port near the seat of the government to which he came accredited. The circumstance was not regarded of much consequence at the time, as it might have been the result of accident; but the development of his designs, in accordance with secret instructions from his government, soon revealed the fact that he chose that southern port for his destination, because its contiguity to the West Indies would give it peculiar convenience as a resort for privateers, the employment of which was a part of the programme of his diplomatic functions.

Genet came in the French frigate L'Embuscade, and was received with most enthusiastic rejoicings by Governor Moultrie and the citizens of Charleston. This reception, acting upon his ardent nature, made him forgetful of his relations to the government to which he was sent; and with a zeal untempered by sound judgment, and a mind mistaking the evanescent demonstrations of personal respect, and the exhibition of popular feeling toward the French republic in that southern city for the settled convictions of the American people, he commenced the performance of his duties under his secret instructions, before he laid his credentials before the United States government, and asked for his reception as the representative of his nation. By these private instructions, assuming that the American executive might not be sufficiently compliant with the wishes of the French government, he was authorized to employ, with the people of the United States, the same policy which had been so successfully used in Europe in producing revolutions.

Genet was provided with blank commissions, both naval and military; and while enjoying the flattering attentions at Charleston for several days, he undertook to authorize the fitting out and arming of vessels in that port as privateers, to depredate upon the commerce of England and other nations at war with France. For this purpose he granted commissions, enlisted men, and, by authority assumed by him under a decree of the convention, he constituted all consuls of France the heads of courts of admiralty, to try, condemn, and authorize the sale of all property seized by the privateer cruisers sailing under Genet's letters of marque. Two of these privateers, manned chiefly by Americans, soon put to sea under the French flag, cruised along the Carolina coasts, and captured many homeward-bound British vessels and took them into the port of Charleston. The frigate in which Genet came to America became one of these privateers, and proceeded northward toward Philadelphia, plundering the sea on her way.

The French minister travelled to Philadelphia by land, and reached that city on the sixteenth of May. His journey was like a continued ovation. The whole country through which he passed, electrified by the French Revolution, appeared alive with excitement; and the honors which the republicans, in their antipathy to aristocracy, had been anxious to withhold from Washington because it was man-worship, were lavished upon the person of the representative of the French republic without stint. On approaching Philadelphia he was met at Gray's ferry, on the Schuylkill, by a considerable number of persons, who had come to welcome him to the federal capital, and to escort him to his lodgings;[47] and on the following day he received addresses from several societies and from the citizens at large, who waited upon him in a body.

Meanwhile, L'Embuscade had arrived at Philadelphia with a British vessel, called The Grange, as a prize; and intelligence of Genet's unwarrantable proceedings at Charleston in authorizing privateers had been received. Yet so wild and unthinking was the popular enthusiasm that appeared on the surface of society, that scarcely a word in condemnation of his conduct was offered. On the contrary, these things appeared to increase the zeal of his political sympathizers, and made Genet's reception, in some respects, more flattering to his personal and national pride. In a letter to Madison at this time, Jefferson, influenced by the exultation of the movement, and in apparent forgetfulness of the serious offence which the ardent Genet had committed against the dignity of the United States and the courtesy of nations, wrote:—

“The war between France and England seems to be producing an effect not contemplated. All the old spirit of 1776, rekindling the newspapers from Boston to Charleston, proves this; and even the monocrat papers are obliged to publish the most furious philippics against England. A French frigate took a British prize (the Grange) off the capes of Delaware, the other day, and sent her up here. Upon her coming into sight, thousands and thousands of the yeomanry of the city crowded and covered the wharves. Never was there such a crowd seen there; and when the British colors were seen reversed, and the French flying above them, they burst into peals of exultation. I wish we may be able to repress the spirit of the people within the limits of a fair neutrality.... We expect Genet daily.”

So eager were the republicans of Philadelphia to do honor to Genet, that, before he had presented his credentials to the president, he was invited to an evening feast. Indeed, preparations for his reception and the “republican dinner” had been made several days before, and this invitation was only a part of the programme. Genet was delighted by this demonstration—a demonstration (arranged chiefly by the labors of Peter S. Duponceau, who came to America originally as the secretary of Baron Steuben, and who was now secretary of a secret society of Frenchmen, which met at Barney M'Shane's, sign of the bunch of grapes, number twenty-three North Third street) that should strike with terror the “cowardly, conservative, Anglo-men, and monarchists,” led by President Washington; and his joy was heightened by reading an approving history of the proceedings in Freneau's paper, the organ of the secretary of state. He even seemed for a moment to doubt the expediency of presenting his credentials at all, because Washington was evidently not ready to comply with all his wishes, and he believed that the whole American people were friends of France, and the enemies of all her opponents.

Genet, however, did present his credentials on the nineteenth of May, and was officially accredited. In that ceremony his pride was touched and his enthusiasm was abated. He found in the presence of Washington an atmosphere of dignity and greatness wholly unexpected, and thoroughly overpowering. He felt his littleness in the presence of that noble representative of the best men and the soundest principles of the American republic, and he returned from the audience abashed and subdued; for the genuine courtesy exhibited by the president, and the words of sincere friendship for the French nation which he uttered, had touched Genet's sensibilities; while the severe simplicity and dignity of manner, and the absence of that effervescent enthusiasm in the midst of which he had been cast since his arrival, administered rebuke alike to the adulators in public places, and his own pretentious aspirations. He had come with secret instructions to foment war between the United States and England for the benefit of France, but that single interview with Washington made him feel, for the time, that his efforts must result in failure; for the word of the chief magistrate was yet almost as omnipotent as law with the greater portion of his countrymen.

Genet was relieved of the chill by the evening banquet, where all was enthusiasm and boisterous mirth. It was given at Oeller's hotel, and quite a large number of republicans were at the board. A patriotic ode written in French, by Duponceau, and translated into English by Freneau, was sung; and the Marseilles hymn was chanted by Genet and the company, the minister adding two stanzas composed by himself, and having special reference to the navy. This followed the reception of a deputation of sailors from the frigate L'Embuscade, who, when they entered the room, were received by the guests with a “fraternal embrace.” The table was decorated with the tree of liberty and the French and American flags; and after the last regular toast of the evening was given, the bonnet rouge, or red cap of liberty, was placed first upon the head of Genet, and then upon each one present in turn, the recipient being expected, under the inspiration of the emblem of freedom, to utter a patriotic sentiment. The national flags were finally delivered to the French sailors, who “swore to defend till death these tokens of liberty, and of American and French fraternity.”

To the superficial observer, the great mass of the people seemed carried away with a monomaniac frenzy. Democratic societies were founded in imitation of Jacobin clubs; everything that was respectable in society was denounced as aristocratic; politeness was looked upon as a sort of lese republicanisme; the common forms of expression in use by the sans culottes were adopted by their American disciples; the title “citizen” became as common in Philadelphia as in Paris; and in the newspapers it was the fashion to announce marriages as partnerships between “Citizen” Brown, Smith, or Jones, and the “citess,” who had been wooed to such an association. Entering the house of the president, Citizen Genet was astonished and indignant at perceiving in the vestibule a bust of Louis XVI, whom his friends had beheaded, and he complained of this “insult to France.” At a dinner, at which Governor Mifflin was present, a roasted pig received the name of the murdered king, and the head, severed from the body, was carried round to each of the guests, who, after placing the liberty cap on his own head, pronounced the word “Tyrant!” and proceeded to mangle with his knife that of the luckless creature doomed to be served for so unworthy a company! One of the democratic taverns displayed as a sign a revolting picture of the mutilated and bloody corpse of Marie Antoinette.[48]

Nor was this enthusiasm confined to Philadelphia. In his admirable daguerreotype of old New York, the venerable Doctor Francis has given a vivid picture, from memory, of the effect of Genet's arrival and sojourn in the country. Speaking of the arrival of L'Embuscade, he says: “The notoriety of the event and its consequences enables me to bring to feeble recollection many of the scenes which transpired in this city at that time: the popular excitement and bustle; the liberty cap; the entrée of Citizen Genet; the red cockade; the song of the Carmagnole, in which with childish ambition I united; the rencontre with the Boston frigate, and the commotion arising from Jay's treaty. Though I can not speak earnestly from actual knowledge, we must all concede that these were the times when political strife assumed a formidable aspect—when the press most flagrantly outraged individual rights and domestic peace—when the impugners of the Washingtonian administration received new weapons, with which to inflict their assaults upon tried patriotism, by every arrival from abroad announcing France in her progress. The federalists and the anti-federalists now became the federal and the republican party; the Carmagnole sung every hour of every day in the streets, and on stated days at the Belvidere Club-house, fanned the embers and enkindled that zeal which caused the overthrow of many of the soundest principles of American freedom. Even the yellow fever, which, from its novelty and its malignity, struck terror into every bosom, and was rendered more lurid by the absurd preventive means of burning tar and tar-barrels in almost every street, afforded no mitigation of party animosity; and Greenleaf with his Argus, Freneau with his Time-Piece, and Cobbett with his Porcupine Gazette, increased the consternation, which only added to the inquietude of the peaceable citizen, who had often reasoned within himself that a seven-years' carnage, through which he had passed, had been enough for one life.”

“Much I saw—much has been told me by the old inhabitants now departed,” says Doctor Francis. “When the entire American nation, nay, when the civilized world at large, seemed electrified by the outbreak of the Revolution in France, it necessarily followed, as the shadow does the substance, that the American soul, never derelict, could not but enkindle with patriotic warmth at the cause of that people whose loftiest desire was freedom—of that people who themselves had, with profuse appropriation, enabled that very bosom, in the moment of hardest trial, to inhale the air of liberty. Successive events had now dethroned the monarchy of France, and the democratic spirit was now evolved in its fullest element. It was not surprising that the experienced and the sober champions who had effected the great revolution of the colonies should now make the cause of struggling France their own; and as victors already in one desperate crisis, they seemed ready to enter into a new contest for the rights of man. The masses coalesced and co-operated. Cheering prospects of sympathy and of support were held out in the prospective to their former friends and benefactors abroad. Jealousy of Britain—affection for France—was now the prevailing impulse, and the business of the day was often interrupted by tumultuous noises in the streets. Groups of sailors might be seen collected on the docks and at the shipping, ready to embark on a voyage of plunder; merchants and traders, in detached bodies, might be seen discussing the hazards of commerce; the schools liberated from their prescribed hours of study, because of some fresh report of L'Embuscade or of Genet; the schoolmaster uttering in his dismissal a new reason for the study of the classics, by expounding with oracular dignity to his scholars, Vivat Respublica, broadly printed as the caption of the playbill or the pamphlet just issued.”[49]

But, fortunately for the United States, there were many strong, sober, and patriotic men, who had looked calmly upon the storms of the French Revolution, and wisely interpreted its portents. On the same day when Genet was received by the president and feasted by the republicans, an address was presented to Washington, signed by three hundred of the principal merchants and other “solid men” of Philadelphia, declaring their high sense of the wisdom and goodness which dictated his late proclamation of neutrality; and that the signers, believing that nothing was necessary to the happiness of the United States but a continuance of peace, not only would heed that proclamation themselves, but discountenance, in the most pointed manner, any contrary disposition in others. In his reply, Washington, with his usual dignity and discretion, expressed a hope that, in the critical juncture of public affairs, the people would evince as much freedom in pursuing peace, as they had previously displayed valor in vindicating their just rights.

The conservative class to whom we have alluded was composed of the best materials of American society. They were firm, consistent, and quiet; and while the noise that attended the demonstrations in favor of the French Revolution appeared to the shallow and timid as the voice of the nation, a very large majority of the people doubtless sympathized with the restraining measures of the president.

Among those who had wisely interpreted the teachings of the Revolution in France, and deprecated the infatuation of his countrymen who had adopted the doctrines of the Jacobins, was Hamilton. To a friend who had expressed his sorrow because of the aspect of the public feeling at that time, he revealed his views freely—views which were held in common with Washington and the great conservative party of which he was the head. “I agree with you,” Hamilton said, “in the reflections you make on the tendency of public demonstrations of attachment to the cause of France. 'Tis certainly not wise to expose ourselves to the jealousy and resentment of the rest of the world, by a fruitless display of zeal for that cause. It may do us much harm, and it can do France no good (unless, indeed, we are to embark in the war with her, which nobody is so hardy as to avow, though some secretly machinate it). It can not be without danger and inconvenience to our interests, to impress on the nations of Europe an idea that we are actuated by the same spirit which has, for some time past, fatally misguided the measures of those who conduct the affairs of France, and sullied a cause once glorious, and that might have been triumphant. The cause of France is compared with that of America during its late Revolution. Would to Heaven that the comparison were just. Would to Heaven that we could discern in the mirror of French affairs the same decorum, the same gravity, the same order, the same dignity, the same solemnity, which distinguished the cause of the American Revolution. Clouds and darkness would not then rest upon the issue as they now do. I own I do not like the comparison. When I contemplate the horrid and systematic massacres of the second and third of September; when I observe that a Murat and a Robespierre, the notorious prompters of those bloody scenes, sit triumphantly in the convention and take a conspicuous part in its measures—that an attempt to bring the assassins to justice has been abandoned; when I see an unfortunate prince, whose reign was a continued demonstration of the goodness and benevolence of his heart, of his attachment to the people of whom he was the monarch, who, though educated in the lap of despotism, had given repeated proofs that he was not the enemy of liberty, brought precipitately and ignominiously to the block without any substantial proof of guilt, as yet disclosed—without even an authentic exhibition of motives, in decent regard to the opinions of mankind; when I find the doctrines of atheism openly advanced in the convention, and heard with loud applauses; when I see the sword of fanaticism extended to force a political creed upon citizens who were invited to submit to the arms of France as the harbingers of liberty; when I behold the hand of rapacity outstretched to prostrate and ravish the monuments of religious worship, erected by those citizens and their ancestors; when I perceive passion, tumult, and violence, usurping those seats where reason and cool deliberation ought to preside—I acknowledge that I am glad to believe there is no real resemblance between what was the cause of America and what is the cause of France; that the difference is no less great than that between liberty and licentiousness. I regret whatever has a tendency to confound them, and I feel anxious, as an American, that the ebullitions of inconsiderate men among us may not tend to involve our reputation in the issue.”[50]

Genet had scarcely reached the seat of government, before his conduct in authorizing the fitting out of privateers, and the capture of The Grange by L'Embuscade, called forth complaints from Mr. Hammond, the British minister at Philadelphia. Genet, in his address to the president on presenting his credentials, had disavowed any wish to involve the United States in the pending war.

“We wish you to do nothing,” he said, “but what is for your own good, and we will do all in our power to promote it. Cherish your own peace and prosperity. You have expressed a willingness to enter into a more liberal commerce with us; I bring full powers to form such a treaty, and a preliminary decree of the National Convention to lay open our country and its colonies to you, for every purpose of utility, without your participating in the burden of maintaining and defending them. We see in you the only person on earth who can love us sincerely, and merit to be so loved.”

This was uttered while the secret instructions in his pocket authorized him to foment discord between the United States and Great Britain; to set the government of our republic at defiance, if necessary; and in the face of his open insult to the government by his acts at Charleston. And yet Mr. Jefferson, apparently blinding his eyes to passing events in Genet's brief career here, said in a letter to Madison, in reference to the French minister's speech, “It was impossible for anything to be more affectionate, more magnanimous, than the purport of Genet's mission.... He offers everything and asks nothing.”

“Yet I know,” Jefferson added, “that the offers will be opposed, and suspect they will not be accepted. In short, my dear sir, it is impossible for you to conceive what is passing in our conclave; and it is evident that one or two [meaning Hamilton and Knox] at least, under pretence of avoiding war on the one side, have no great antipathy to run foul of it on the other, and to make a part in the confederacy of princes against human liberty.” Thus, on all occasions, the secretary of state ungenerously charged those of his official associates who could not lovingly embrace the bloody French Jacobins as brothers, with monarchical principles, and designs to subvert the government of the United States. To Washington he expressed the same suspicions; and, from his own record in his Anas, he appears to have been rebuked by the president, and to have persisted in a most unfriendly course. “He [the president] observed,” he said, “that if anybody wanted to change the form of our government into a monarchy, he was sure it was only a few individuals, and that no man in the United States would set himself against it more than himself; but that this was not what he was afraid of—his fears were from another quarter—that there was more danger of anarchy being introduced.”

Washington, according to the same record, then spoke with great warmth concerning the hostility of Freneau as manifested in his newspaper. He despised all personal attacks upon himself; but, he said, not a solitary act of the government had escaped the slanderer's assaults. He adverted to the fact that Freneau (evidently for the impudent purpose of insulting Washington) sent him three of his papers every day; and Mr. Jefferson records these facts in a way that shows the enjoyment he seemed to derive from such evidences of great annoyance displayed by the president. “He was evidently sore and worn,” wrote Mr. Jefferson, “and I took his intention to be, that I should interpose in some way with Freneau—perhaps withdraw his appointment of translating clerk in my office. But I will not do it.”

“It appears to us,” says Mr. Irving,[51] “rather an ungracious determination on the part of Jefferson to keep this barking cur in his employ, when he found him so annoying to the chief, whom he professed, and we believe with sincerity, to revere.[52] Neither are his reasons for so doing satisfactory, savoring as they do of those strong political suspicions already noticed. 'His [Freneau's] paper,' observed he, 'has saved our constitution, which was galloping fast into monarchy, and has been checked by no means so powerfully as by that paper. It is well and universally known that it has been that paper which checked the career of the monocrats. The president, not sensible of the designs of the party, has not, with his usual good sense and sang froid, looked on the efforts and effects of this free press, and seen that though some bad things have passed through it to the public, yet the good have preponderated immensely.'”

On the day succeeding his presentation to the president, Genet addressed an official letter to Mr. Jefferson, announcing his mission, as follows:—

“Single, against innumerable hordes of tyrants and slaves who menace her rising liberty, the French nation would have a right to reclaim the obligations imposed on the United States by the treaties she has contracted with them, and which she has cemented with her blood; but strong in the greatness of her means, and of the power of her principles, not less redoubtable to her enemies than the virtuous arm which she opposes to their rage, she comes, in the very time when the emissaries of our common enemies are making useless efforts to neutralize the gratitude, to damp the zeal, to weaken or cloud the view of your fellow-citizens; she comes, I say, that generous nation, that faithful friend, to labor still to increase the prosperity and add to the happiness which she is pleased to see them enjoy.

“The obstacles raised with intentions hostile to liberty, by the perfidious ministers of despotism—the obstacles whose object was to stop the rapid progress of the commerce of the Americans and the extension of their principles, exist no more. The French republic, seeing in them but brothers, has opened to them, by the decrees now enclosed, all her ports in the two worlds; has granted them all the favors which her own citizens enjoy in her vast possessions; has invited them to participate the benefits of her navigation, in granting to their vessels the same rights as her own; and has charged me to propose to your government to establish, in a truly family compact—that is, in a national compact—the liberal and fraternal basis on which she wishes to see raised the commercial and political system of two people, all whose interests are blended. I am invested, sir, with the powers necessary to undertake this important negotiation, of which the sad annals of humanity offer no example before the brilliant era at length opening on it.”[53]

Notwithstanding the boast, in this letter, of his country being “strong in the greatness of her means,” Genet had opened his diplomatic correspondence by a request for immediate payment, by anticipation, of the remaining installments of the debt due France by the United States, amounting to two millions, three hundred thousand dollars, and offered, as an inducement, to invest the amount in provisions and other American products, to be shipped partly to the St. Domingo, and partly to France. But neither his propositions for an alliance nor his application for money were received with favor. The United States government well knew that his assurance that the offered relaxation of commercial restrictions, as a boon of pure good will toward the Americans, was only a convenient plan for obtaining needed supplies. The request for money was met by a candid statement by the secretary of the treasury, that his government had no means of anticipating the payment of the French debt, except by borrowing money in Europe, which could not be done then on reasonable terms. Hamilton also told Genet that, even were there no other obstacle, the anticipation of payment at that time might be regarded by Great Britain as a breach of neutrality.

This reply greatly offended the French minister, and he threatened to make the debt to France available for his purpose, by giving assignments of it in payment for provisions and other supplies. Hamilton calmly replied that his government would decidedly object to that procedure, and expressed a hope that, in a matter of mutual concern, nothing would be done but by mutual consent.

While the British minister, in view of the dereliction of duty on the part of his government, manifested in its omission to comply with some of the stipulations of the treaty of 1783, should have been comparatively silent, the grounds of some of his complaints were too obviously just, not to be seriously considered. Cabinet meetings were accordingly held, and the subject was fully discussed. The capture of The Grange within American waters (in Delaware bay), and the demand, not only for its restitution, but of all others captured on the high seas by the privateers authorized by Genet, made by the British minister, was the chief topic. It was unanimously agreed that The Grange should be restored, but there was a difference of opinion respecting the others. Hamilton and Knox, assuming, as a basis for argument, that it is the duty of a neutral nation to remedy every injury sustained by armaments fitted out in its ports, were of opinion that the government should interpose to restore the prizes. Jefferson and Randolph contended that the case should be left to the decision of courts of justice; arguing, that if the courts should decide the commissions given by Genet to be invalid, they would, as a matter of course, order restitution to be made.[54]

Washington reserved his decision upon this point, and took time to deliberate. The cabinet had agreed unanimously that the jurisdiction of every independent nation, within the limits of its own territory, being of a nature to exclude the exercise of any authority therein by any foreign power, the proceedings complained of, not being warranted by any treaty, were usurpations of national sovereignty and violations of neutral rights, a repetition of which it was the duty of the government to prevent. Also, that the efficacy of the laws should be tried against those citizens of the United States who had joined in perpetrating the offence. These principles being considered as settled, the president directed the secretary of state to communicate the fact to the ministers of France and Great Britain. Circular letters, also, were addressed to the governors of several states requiring their co-operation, with military force if necessary, to carry out the principles and rules agreed upon.

FOOTNOTES:

[47] The number of people who met and welcomed Genet at Gray's ferry was greatly exaggerated, as usual on such occasions, by the friends of the movement. It was called “a great concourse of citizens,” but Hamilton, who was then in Philadelphia, and whose truthfulness has never been questioned, placed the number at an insignificant figure. In a letter to a friend, he said, “It is seldom easy to speak with absolute certainty in such cases, but from all I could observe, or have been able to learn, I believe the number would be stated high at a hundred persons.” Of a meeting convened at evening to receive Mr. Genet, Hamilton said, “From forty to one hundred persons give you the extremes of the number present.” On the ensuing evening a much greater number attended. Altogether the demonstration, in numbers, was a failure.

[48] Griswold's Republican Court, page 350.

[49] Old New York, or Reminiscences of the past Sixty Years, pages 115-119, inclusive.

[50] Hamilton's Works, v. 566.

[51] Life of Washington, v. 164.

[52] A little later, Jefferson wrote to Madison: “The president is not well; little lingering fevers have been hanging about him for a week or ten days, and affect his looks most remarkably. He is also extremely affected by the attacks made and kept up on him in the public papers. I think he feels these things more than any other person I ever yet met with. I am sincerely sorry to see them.” How utterly insincere appears the last clause of this paragraph, compared with the one next preceding it! The most scurrilous of the attacks alluded to proceeded from Freneau, a clerk in Mr. Jefferson's office!

[53] Letter to Mr. Jefferson, Secretary of State, dated “Philadelphia, May 23d, 1793, second year of the republic.”

[54] “During these proceedings,” says Chief-Justice Jay, “the circuit court was held at Richmond by the chief justice, who in his charge to the grand jury explained the obligations of the United States as a neutral nation, and directed the jury to present all persons within their district guilty of violating the laws of nations with respect to any of the belligerent powers. The charge was well calculated to strengthen the government, by letting the public perceive that the supreme court would fearlessly discharge its duty, in punishing acts forbidden by the neutral position of the nation.”—Life and Writings of John Jay, i. 302.

CHAPTER XXII.

TOP

genet's letter to the secretary of state on the subject of treaty guaranties—the question reconsidered by the cabinet—their decision and genet's anger—genet supported and misled by the republicans—his indecorous correspondence with the secretary of state—madness of the populace—hamilton and madison—position of the government assailed—washington on the democratic societies—called to mount vernon—genet fits out a privateer at philadelphia—measures to prevent her sailing—washington returns to philadelphia—a cabinet council—genet defies the government—one of the american privateers acquitted—washington laments the disaffection of the people, but swerves not—determination to have genet recalled—proceedings in the cabinet—washington's wrath.

The action of the cabinet gave umbrage to Genet, and he wrote a spirited letter to the secretary of state. He assented to the restoration of “The Grange,” she having been captured within American waters, but he protested most vehemently against all interference on the part of the United States with the privateers at sea. He alleged that they were armed and furnished by French residents in Charleston, were commanded by French officers, or Americans who knew of no law or treaty to restrain their action, and that they had gone to sea with the consent of the governor of South Carolina. He argued, that as the treaty of commerce secured to the parties the right of bringing prizes into each other's ports, it followed that their right to the control and disposal of prizes so brought in, was conceded to each. As the treaty of 1778 only forbade each party allowing enemies to fit out privateers in their respective ports, it was fair to conclude that there was also conceded a mutual right in the parties themselves to fit out privateers in the ports of the other. He insisted that the Americans on board the privateers had, for the time, entered the service of France and renounced the protection of the United States, and that therefore they were no longer responsible to their own government for their acts.

Notwithstanding the want of decorum in some portions of Genet's letter, the president and his cabinet reconsidered the questions at issue in the light of the minister's arguments. Their opinions remained unchanged, and Genet was informed that the privateer then in the Delaware, bearing his name, must forthwith leave American waters; that orders had been sent to all the ports of the United States for the seizure of all vessels fitted out as privateers, and to prevent the sale of any prizes captured by such vessels; and also for the arrest of Henfield and Singleterry, two Americans, who had enlisted on board the Citizen Genet at Charleston.

The decision and action of the cabinet made Genet very angry, and he resolved not to acquiesce in it. He was led to believe that the great body of the American people, grateful for what France had done in times past, were ready to go all lengths in his favor, short of actual war. He had heard clamors among the people, and read violent paragraphs in the republican newspapers against the position of neutrality taken by the government, and he resolved to encourage privateering, and to defend his position before the American people by his pen. At that time, Freneau's paper was assisted in its warfare upon the administration by another called the General Advertiser, known afterward as the Aurora. It was edited by a grandson of Doctor Franklin, whose French education caused him to favor the fanaticism of that people in their revolutionary movements. It was sometimes more virulent in its vituperation than Freneau's Gazette, and both urged Genet to go forward, heedless of the executive and his cabinet, at the same time charging Washington himself with an intention of joining in the league of kings against the French republic.[55]

“I hope,” said a writer in Freneau's paper, “the minister of France will act with firmness and spirit. The people are his friends, or the friends of France, and he will have nothing to apprehend; for, as yet, the people are the sovereigns of the United States. Too much complacency is an injury done to his cause; for, as every advantage is already taken of France (not by the people), further condescension may lead to further abuse. If one of the leading features of our government is pusillanimity, when the British lion shows his teeth, let France and her minister act as becomes the dignity of their cause, and the honor and faith of nations.[56]

The arrest and indictment of the two Americans on board the Citizen Genet added greatly to the irritation of the French minister. “The crime laid to their charge,” said Genet in a letter to Jefferson on the first of June—“the crime which my mind can not conceive, and which my pen almost refuses to state, is the serving of France, and defending with her children the common glorious cause of liberty.

“Being ignorant of any positive law or treaty which deprives Americans of this privilege, and authorizes officers arbitrarily to take mariners in the service of France from on board their vessels, I call upon your intervention, sir, and that of the president of the United States, in order to obtain the immediate releasement of the above mentioned officers, who have acquired, by the sentiments animating them, and by the act of their engagement, anterior to every act to the contrary, the right of French citizens, if they have lost that of American citizens. I renew at the same time, sir, the requisition which I made in favor of another French officer, detained for the same cause and for the same object.”

To this appeal Jefferson replied by sending Genet a copy of the opinion of the attorney-general of the United States, who decided that the prisoners had acted in violation of treaties, and were guilty of an indictable offence. In a subsequent note, the secretary of state reiterated the opinion of the president that it was the right of every nation, and the duty of neutral nations, to prohibit acts of sovereignty within their limits, injurious to either of the belligerent powers; that the granting of military commissions within the United States by any foreign authority was an infringement of their sovereignty, especially when granted to American citizens as an inducement to act against the duty which they owed to their country; and that it was expected that the French privateers would immediately leave the waters of the United States.

Genet, with impudent pertinacity, denounced these doctrines as contrary to right, justice, the law of nations, and even the proclamation of neutrality by the president; and when he was informed that a French privateer, fitted out in New York, had been seized by a body of militia acting under the authority of Governor Clinton, he was greatly enraged, and demanded its immediate “restitution, with damages and interest, and also the immediate” “restitution, with damages and interest, of the French prizes arrested and seized at Philadelphia.” But the government was unmoved. The prisoners were not released, nor the vessels restored; whereupon Genet ventured to declare that he “would appeal from the president to the people.” His only excuse for this rash assertion was his utter ignorance of the character of the president and people whose actions, in concerns so momentous, he assumed to control or defy. He seemed really to have imagined that the love of France and the sentiment of republicanism were so strong among the people of the United States, that he would be able to overthrow the government. He had already said, in a letter to Jefferson, “Every obstruction by the government of the United States to the arming of French vessels must be an attempt on the rights of man, upon which repose the independence and laws of the United States; a violation of the ties which unite France and America; and even a manifest contradiction of the system of neutrality of the president; for, in fact, if our merchant-vessels or others are not allowed to arm themselves, when the French alone are resisting the league of all the tyrants against the liberty of the people, they will be exposed to inevitable ruin in going out of the ports of the United States, which is certainly not the intention of the people of America. This fraternal voice has resounded from every quarter around me, and their accents are not equivocal. They are pure as the hearts of those by whom they are expressed; and the more they have touched my sensibility, the more they must interest in the happiness of America the nation I represent; the more I wish, sir, that the federal government should observe, as far as in its power, the public engagements contracted by both nations, and that, by this generous and prudent conduct, they will give at least to the world the example of a true neutrality, which does not consist in the cowardly abandonment of their friends in the moment when danger menaces them, but in adhering strictly, if they can do no better, to the obligations they have contracted with them. It is by such proceedings that they will render themselves respectable to all the powers—that they will preserve their friends, and deserve to augment their numbers.”

All around the French minister there was a sea of passion while the controversy was progressing. The republican party became more and more bold in their denunciations. Open expressions of enthusiastic devotion to France, and of hatred toward all the powers at war with that republic, were heard on every side. Every measure of the government that tended to thwart the views of Genet was assailed with the most malignant zeal. The president's proclamation of neutrality, as we have observed, was branded as a “royal edict.” It was condemned as having been issued without authority, and in contradiction with the treaties with France; as contrary to the gratitude which was due to that country by the people of the United States, and out of time and unnecessary; and a series of articles written by Hamilton in support of the proclamation, over the signature of Pacificus, were assailed in another series against the proclamation, written by Madison (at the suggestion of Jefferson) over the signature of Helvidius, as having “been read with singular pleasure and applause by the foreigners and degenerate citizens among us, who hate our republican government and the French Revolution.”

The declaration that “the duty and interest of the United States required that they should, with sincerity and good faith, adopt and pursue a conduct friendly and impartial toward the belligerent powers,” was assailed as a monstrous doctrine, and gave the greatest umbrage to Genet and his friends. The latter insisted that the French minister's demands were sanctioned by solemn treaties, and that his interpretation of the instruments was correct. The wrongs inflicted upon America by Great Britain, and the aid given to the struggling patriots by France, were recited in most pathetic terms; and the questions were significantly asked, “Shall the services of the one, as well as the injuries of the other, be forgotten? Shall a friend and an enemy be treated with equal favor? Shall neither gratitude nor resentment constitute a feature of the American character?” It was concluded that there was a natural and inveterate hostility between monarchies and republics; that the present combination against France was a combination against liberty in every part of the world; and that the destinies of America were inseparably connected with those of the French republic. They declared that the conduct of the executive, in withholding privileges to which France was said to be entitled by the most solemn engagements, was indicative of a desire to coalesce with despots in a crusade against liberty, furnishing to the French republic just motives for war; and that all her moderation and forbearance were required to restrain her from declaring it against the United States. They went so far, as we have seen, as to exhort Genet not to relax in his endeavors to maintain the just rights of his country; and he received assurances of the steady and affectionate support of the American people. Genet was taught to believe that Washington was acting under the influence of a British monarchical faction, and that everything was to be hoped from the predominance of republicanism in the new Congress then in progress of being chosen.

It was now midsummer, and the whole social and political fabric of the Union was shaken by these party contentions; and the democratic societies of which we have spoken, secret and open, were exceedingly active. “That these societies,” Washington observed, “were instituted by the artful and designing members (many of their body, I have no doubt, mean well, but know little of the real plan), primarily to sow among the people the seeds of jealousy and distrust of the government, by destroying all confidence in the administration of it, and that these doctrines have been budding and blowing ever since, is not new to any one who is acquainted with the character of their leaders, and has been attentive to their manœuvres.

“Can anything be more absurd, more arrogant, or more pernicious to the peace of society, than for self-created bodies, forming themselves into permanent censors, and under the shade of night, in a conclave, resolving that acts of Congress, which have undergone the most deliberate and solemn discussion by the representatives of the people, chosen for the express purpose, and bringing with them from the different parts of the Union the sense of their constituents, endeavoring, as far as the nature of the thing will admit, to form their will into laws for the government of the whole—I say, under these circumstances, for a self-created permanent body (for no one denies the right of the people to meet occasionally to petition for, or remonstrate against, any act of the legislature) to declare that this act is unconstitutional, and that act is pregnant with mischiefs, and that all who vote contrary to their dogmas are actuated by selfish motives or under foreign influence, nay, are traitors to their country? Is such a stretch of arrogant presumption to be reconciled with laudable motives, especially when we see the same set of men endeavoring to destroy all confidence in the administration, by arraigning all its acts, without knowing on what ground or with what information it proceeds?”

While the controversy was at its height, Washington was suddenly called to Mount Vernon by the death of the chief manager of his estates. He was absent a little more than a fortnight. Meanwhile, an incident occurred which brought the controversy between the United States government and the French minister to a crisis. A British merchant-vessel was captured by L'Embuscade, sent to Philadelphia, and there Genet, under the very eye of the federal authorities and in direct opposition to the decision of Washington and his cabinet, undertook to equip her as a privateer, under the new name of Le Petite Democrat. This movement was discovered by Hamilton on the sixth of July. He communicated the facts to the cabinet, with whom Washington had left the control of the public affairs during his absence, and an investigation was ordered. It was ascertained that the vessel would probably sail on a cruise the next day, and Governor Mifflin was called upon to interfere. At midnight he sent Alexander Dallas, his secretary, to request Genet to desist from his unlawful course, and to inform him that the vessel would be detained by force if he refused compliance. The minister flew into a rage, declared that the president was not the sovereign of the country, and had no right, without consulting Congress, to give such instructions as he had done to state governors; that he was a misled man, and wholly under the influence of the enemies of France and human liberty; and then again expressed his determination to appeal to the people.

Genet refused to give Mifflin any distinct pledges, and early in the morning the governor ordered out one hundred and twenty of the militia to take possession of the privateer. Mr. Jefferson, who perceived the rashness of Genet's course, now took the matter in hand, and at a personal interview tried to persuade him to detain the privateer until the president's return to the seat of government. The secretary of state was not more successful than the secretary of Governor Mifflin. Genet stormed like a madman. Jefferson was unable, most of the time, to thrust in a word, and he sat in silence while the angry minister poured out the vials of his wrath upon the United States government. He declared that any attempt to seize the vessel would be resisted by the crew; that he had been thwarted in all his plans by the government; and that he was half a mind to leave the country in disgust, as he could not be useful to his nation here. He censured the president severely, and declared that on Washington's return he should press him to convene the Congress immediately.

Jefferson stopped him at the subject of calling a Congress, and explained to him the threefold character of the government; assuring him that all questions which had arisen between himself and the executive belonged only to that department, and that, were Congress in session, the matters would not be carried to them, nor would they take any notice of them. Genet was surprised, and inquired if the Congress were not the sovereign? Jefferson replied that they were sovereign only in making laws; that the executive was the sovereign in executing them, and the judiciary in construing them. “But at least,” said Genet, “Congress are bound to see that the treaties are observed.” “There are very few cases,” replied Jefferson, “arising out of treaties, which Congress can take notice of. The president is to see that treaties are observed.” “To whom then is the nation to appeal, if the president decides against a treaty?” quickly inquired Genet. “The constitution has made the president the last appeal,” replied Jefferson. Genet was confounded by his own ignorance, shrugged his shoulders, and, making a bow, remarked that he would not compliment Mr. Jefferson on such a constitution.

Genet had now become cool, assured Mr. Jefferson that the privateer was not yet ready for sea, and, without promising that she should not sail before the president's return, said that it would be necessary for her to shift her position to the lower end of the town to receive supplies, and gave the secretary to understand that she would not leave before Washington's return to Philadelphia. Jefferson accepted his remarks as honest assurance, and Governor Mifflin dismissed his soldiers; but Hamilton and Knox, having no faith in the minister's word, proposed the immediate erection of a battery below the city, where Fort Mifflin stood in the Revolution, with guns mounted to prevent the privateer's going down the river. Jefferson, fearing further to offend Genet, refused to concur in this measure, and the next day the vessel went down the river as far as Chester.

Washington returned to Philadelphia on the eleventh, and received some papers, concerning the events we have just described, from Mr. Jefferson, with an intimation that they required “instant attention.” They aroused the president's indignation. “What is to be done in the case of the Little Sarah [the original name of the Petite Democrat] now at Chester?” he asked, in a note written to Mr. Jefferson on the spur of the moment. “Is the minister of the French republic to set the acts of this government at defiance with impunity, and then threaten the executive with an appeal to the people? What must the world think of such conduct, and of the government of the United States in submitting to it?

“These are serious questions. Circumstances press for a decision, and, as you have had time to consider them (upon me they come unexpectedly), I wish to know your opinion upon them, even before to-morrow, for the vessel may then be gone.”

Mr. Jefferson assured Washington that the privateer was not yet ready for sea, and that Genet had promised that she should not sail before the decision of the president in her case should be known. In a cabinet council held the next day, it was resolved to detain in the ports of the United States all privateers which had been equipped therein, and this decision was immediately communicated to Genet. In defiance of it, the French minister sent the privateer to sea; and yet the republicans, forgetful of all national dignity, commended the representative of a foreign nation in thus offering a marked insult to the chief magistrate and the government of the republic.

At about the same time, Henfield, one of the prisoners indicted, under the advice of the attorney-general, for having enlisted on board the French privateer at Charleston, was tried. The populace, instigated by the opposition leaders, took the part of the prisoner, and the jury acquitted him. At once the opposition press heaped obloquy upon the administration, for having attempted what they were pleased to call an unlawful measure. They asked, scornfully, “What law had been offended, and under what statute was the indictment supported? Are the American people already prepared to give to a proclamation the force of a legislative act, and to subject themselves to the will of the executive? But,” they said, “if the people are already sunk to such a state of degradation, are they to be punished for violating a proclamation which had not been published when the offence was committed, if indeed it could be termed an offence to engage with France combatting for liberty against the combined despots of Europe?” And when the prisoner was acquitted, the event was celebrated with extravagant marks of joy and exultation.[57]

These events annoyed Washington exceedingly. He perceived the spirit of the French Revolution animating his own people, making them regardless of law and justice, and drunk with ideas that tended to anarchy and confusion. He perceived the futility of attempts to enforce laws in support of the doctrines of his proclamation of neutrality, and the disposition of a large class of people to thwart that conservative policy which he advised as being most conducive to the welfare of the state. Yet, strong in his consciousness of rectitude, he swerved not a line from his prescribed course of duty. “As it respects myself,” he said in a letter to Governor Lee on the twenty-first of July, “I care not; for I have a consolation within, that no earthly efforts can deprive me of; and that is, that neither ambitious nor interested motives have influenced my conduct. The arrows of malevolence, therefore, however barbed and well pointed, never can reach the most vulnerable point of me; though, whilst I am up as a mark, they will be continually aimed. The publications in Freneau's and Bache's papers are outrages on common decency; and they progress in that style in proportion as their pieces are treated with contempt, and are passed by in silence, by those at whom they were aimed. The tendency of them, however, is too obvious to be mistaken by men of cool and dispassionate minds, and in my opinion ought to alarm them, because it is difficult to prescribe bounds to the effect.”

Matters had now reached a point where forbearance toward the insolent French minister was no longer required by the most exacting courtesy. His official communications, and public and private acts, were becoming too offensive to be longer tolerated by the government, without virtually abdicating authority and acknowledging its utter incompetency. So the president called the cabinet together at the beginning of August to consult upon the matter, when the whole official correspondence between Jefferson and Genet, and the conduct of the latter, were thoroughly reviewed. The result was, a determination that the French government should be requested to recall their minister, because he was offensive to that of the United States. Jefferson recommended great delicacy in the terms of this request; the others were favorable to a peremptory demand for his recall; while Knox, whose indignation had been thoroughly aroused by the conduct of Genet, proposed to dismiss him at once without consulting his government. It was at length agreed that a letter should be written to Gouverneur Morris, the American minister in Paris, in which should be given a statement of the case, with accompanying documents, with directions to lay the whole subject before the Executive Council of France; also that a letter, the same in substance as the one written to Morris, should be sent to Genet.

It was also proposed to publish the whole correspondence, as an appeal to the people of the United States and the world, in justification of the action of the administration. Jefferson opposed the proposition on the ground that it would make matters worse. He said Genet would appeal, also; that anonymous writers would take up the subject; that public opinion would still be divided; and there would be a difference of opinion in Congress, likewise, for the matter must be laid before them. “It would,” Jefferson said, “be a contest between the president and Genet.”

Washington took fire at this last suggestion. Wearied and annoyed by the continual dissentions in his cabinet, and the unjust abuse of his political opponents, the idea that he should stand before the world as a contestant with a man like Genet, and be subjected to the ribaldry of the press, touched his sensitive nature at the most tender point. At that moment, Knox, with peculiar mal-appropriateness, “in a foolish, incoherent sort of speech,” says Jefferson, “introduced the pasquinade, lately printed, called The Funeral of George Washington”—a parody on the decapitation of the French king, in which the president was represented as placed on a guillotine. “The president,” says Mr. Jefferson, “was much inflamed; got into one of those passions [which only for a moment and very rarely occurred] where he can not control himself; ran on much on the personal abuse that had been bestowed upon him; defied any man on earth to produce one single act of his, since he had been in the government, which was not done on the purest motives; that he had never repented but once the having slipped the moment of resigning his office, and that was every moment since; that he had rather be in his grave than in his present situation; that he had rather be on his farm than to be made an emperor of the world.” And yet, he said with most emphatic indignation, “they are charging me with wanting to be king!”

When Washington ceased there was a pause. All had remained silent during this burst of passion, and it was with some difficulty that the questions at issue were resumed. The president soon recovered his equanimity, and opened the subject again by saying that there was no necessity for deciding the question of an appeal to the people on Genet's recall at that moment. The propositions already agreed to respecting the letter to Gouverneur Morris might be put into execution, and events would doubtless show whether an appeal would be necessary or not. The cabinet agreed to send a circular to all the collectors of customs, instructing them in their duty respecting ships of the belligerent nations within the waters of the United States. It was also agreed that information should be communicated to the British minister that compensation would be made to the owners of British vessels captured by French privateers, fitted out within the United States, previous to the notice given to Genet that such equipments would not be allowed; but that in future the British government must regard the efforts of that of the United States, to prevent the arming of privateers within its waters, as a full discharge of all neutral obligations. At the same time, Genet was called upon to give up all the vessels captured previous to the notice above alluded to, as otherwise the French government would be held responsible for the amount of necessary indemnities; also, all vessels captured within the waters of the United States, those waters being defined as within a marine league from the exterior coast.

FOOTNOTES:

[55] Life and Writings of John Jay, i. 303.

[56] Greenleaf's Patriotic Register, at New York, and the Boston Chronicle echoed these sentiments, and the smaller opposition journals throughout the country re-echoed the strain.

[57] Marshall, ii. 273.

CHAPTER XXIII.

TOP

unpleasant relations with great britain—the united states aggrieved by the practice of the british cruisers toward neutrals, and in the impressment of seamen—also, concerning the giving up of western posts, and tampering with the indians—relations with spain—threatened dissolution of the cabinet—jefferson's uneasiness—his official letter to gouverneur morris—genet's anger and accusative insinuations—events in new york—genet's reception there—his insolent letter to jefferson unnoticed—his complaints—decline of his popularity—yellow fever in philadelphia—washington retires to mount vernon to avoid it—doctor rush—abatement of the fever—washington returns to philadelphia.

While Washington's cabinet was thus perplexed by the conduct of the French minister, it was equally so by the relations of the governments of the United States and Great Britain. As we have observed, a diplomatic intercourse between the two governments did not commence until the federal constitution had established the republic upon a more solid basis. Then Mr. Hammond was appointed British minister to the United States, and took up his residence in Philadelphia; and Mr. Pinckney, appointed United States minister to Great Britain, repaired to London. We have also observed that the evacuation of some of the western posts by the British, and other stipulations of the treaty of 1783, yet remained uncomplied with when Mr. Hammond came. These causes for complaint on the part of the United States, and the establishment of just commercial relations between the two governments, had been the chief subjects for negotiation since his arrival. At the time in question, no progress had been made toward accommodation, and for this reason a large number of the Americans felt more disposed to take part with their old ally, and against their old enemy.

In fact, the catalogue of grievances suffered by the people of the United States at the hand of Great Britain had increased, new difficulties having grown out of the belligerent position of Europe at the time we are considering. France, as we have seen, by a decree of her National Convention, had placed the shipping of neutrals during the pending war on the same footing as that of her own; and, in consequence, a rich commerce had presented itself to American merchantmen, of which they took advantage. Great Britain paid no attention to this decree, but claimed for its cruisers the right to seize French property, even on board American vessels. The British also refused to recognise as neutral the trade between France and her West India colonies, carried on in American bottoms, which the pressure of war had created.

The British government had also instructed their cruisers to seize and bring in all vessels employed in carrying breadstuffs to French ports, even though vessel and cargo should be neutral property; claiming the right, contrary to modern usage, of preventing, by all means in her power, supplies being carried to her enemy, her statesmen having conceived the idea of destroying the French Revolution by starvation. Such vessels and cargoes were, however, to be paid for on proof being presented of their neutral character, and bonds being given to land in countries at peace with Great Britain. It is proper to state, that, at about the time in question, the French government—under the pressure of circumstances, and driven to it, they said, “by their implacable and ferocious enemies”—authorized the same system of seizure, with promises to pay. The British did pay, the French did not, and on that score the Americans more highly respected the former than the latter.

A more serious ground of complaint against Great Britain was the authority given to the commanders of British ships of war to make up any deficiency in their crews, by pressing into their service British-born seamen, wherever found, not within the immediate jurisdiction of any foreign state. Under this authority, many American merchant-vessels were crippled, while in mid-ocean, by British seamen being taken from them. Nor were British seamen alone taken. It was sometimes difficult to distinguish an Englishman from an American; and as the commanders of vessels-of-war were not very strict in their scrutiny, native-born Americans were frequently dragged on board British vessels, and kept in slavery in the royal service for years. American seamen were thus pressed into foreign service, even within the jurisdiction of the United States. The remonstrances of the latter government against these outrages were unheeded, and bitter feelings were engendered.

And yet another serious cause of difficulty with, and resentment toward Great Britain existed in the hostile position of the Indian tribes in the Northwest. Abortive attempts were made by the United States' commissioners to form a treaty with some of them. The Indians insisted upon making the Ohio river the boundary between themselves and the white people, and to this they inflexibly adhered. It was generally believed that the government of Canada encouraged them to persevere in this claim. Indeed, information obtained from the Indians themselves made the suspicion plausible, and the justice of that suspicion was enforced by the tenacity with which the British held on to the western posts, under the pretext, however, that the portion of the treaty of 1783 relating to the payment of debts to British creditors, contracted by Americans previous to the Revolution, had not yet been fulfilled by the government of the United States, or promised to be by any decisions of the federal courts.

These several causes of complaint against the British government, viewed superficially by the people, caused great irritation in the public mind, and a corresponding sympathy for France, the avowed and active enemy of Great Britain. That sympathy, as we have seen, gave strength to the insolent pretensions of Genet. Added to this was a decision in the federal court at Richmond, which declared that, according to the treaty of 1783, debts due from American citizens to British merchants previous to the Revolution must be paid. This gave intensity to the excitement, and the cry of usurpation on the part of the federal judiciary, which had frequently been raised by the opposition, now went over the land with vehement cadence.

The relations of the United States with Spain rather strengthened Genet's position. The Mississippi river was still closed to the Americans; and the Creek and Cherokee Indians, evidently encouraged by Spanish emissaries among them, assumed a position hostile to the United States. It was also asserted that propositions had been made by Spain to Great Britain inimical to the United States. These facts and rumors inflamed the people of the extreme South and West; and as a part of Genet's programme of operations in this country contemplated an armed invasion of Louisiana and the opening of the Mississippi, he and his cause were very popular with the settlers in the great valleys beyond the mountains of the Southwest.

While these things were perplexing Washington's cabinet, the dissentions in that cabinet were more perplexing to the president. And yet, so profoundly was Washington impressed with the skill, judgment, forecast, and patriotism of the chief contestants, Jefferson and Hamilton, that he contemplated the loss of their service, in their respective stations, with the greatest solicitude. Such contemplations were pressed upon his mind during the season of contest with Genet, which we have just considered. Toward the close of June, Hamilton notified the president that “considerations relative both to the public interest and to his own delicacy” had brought him to the conclusion of resigning at the close of the ensuing session of Congress; and on the thirty-first of July, Jefferson informed him that, at the close of the ensuing month of September, he should “beg leave to retire to scenes of greater tranquillity from those for which,” he said, “I am every day more and more convinced that neither my talents, tone of mind, nor time of life fit me.”

These communications distressed the president; and on the sixth of August he called upon Mr. Jefferson at his house, a little out of Philadelphia, and expressed himself greatly concerned because of the threatened desertion of those on whom he most relied, in this the hour of greatest perplexity to the government. He did not know where he should look to find suitable characters to fill up the offices. Mere talents, he said, did not suffice for the department of state; for its duties required a person conversant with foreign affairs, and perhaps with foreign courts.

“He expressed great apprehensions,” says Jefferson in his Anas, “at the fermentation which seemed to be working in the mind of the public; that many descriptions of persons, actuated by different causes, appeared to be uniting [alluding to the democratic societies]; what it would end in he knew not; a new Congress was to assemble, more numerous, and perhaps of a different spirit; and the first expression of their sentiments would be important.” He then urged Jefferson to remain until the close of the next session, if no longer.

Jefferson pleaded his repugnance to public life, and especially the uneasiness of the position in which he was placed. He and Hamilton were bitter enemies, and his course, he said, had caused “the wealthy aristocrats, the merchants connected closely with England, the newly-created paper factions,” to bear him peculiar hatred. Thus surrounded, he said, his “words were caught, multiplied, misconstrued, and even fabricated and spread abroad,” to his injury. Disclaiming any knowledge of the views of the republican party at that time, he gave it as his opinion that they would be found strong supporters of the government in all measures for the public welfare; that in the next Congress they would attempt nothing material but to make that body independent; and that though the manœuvres of Mr. Genet might produce some embarrassment, he would be abandoned by the republicans and all true friends of the country the moment they knew the nature and tendency of his conduct.

The want of candor exhibited by Mr. Jefferson in these assurances, recorded by his own pen, must have been plainly visible to Washington. The idea that the secretary, the head and front of the republican party, should be ignorant of their “views,” and that the “party” would desert Genet when they should know “the nature of his conduct,” when that party were his continual backers and supporters, is simply absurd; and it is difficult to believe that Washington on that occasion, as Mr. Jefferson says, actually asserted his belief “in the purity of the motives” of that party.[58]

Jefferson consented to remain longer in the cabinet, and wrote the vigorous and high-toned letter to Gouverneur Morris on the subject of Genet's recall—a letter forming one of the most admirable state papers ever issued from that department. That letter gave Genet great umbrage, and in his comments he bitterly reproached Jefferson because he had allowed himself to be made “an ungenerous instrument” of attack upon him, after having made him believe that he was his friend, and “initiating him into the mysteries which had influenced his hatred against all those who aspired to absolute power.” It seems, from other remarks of Genet, that the tone of Jefferson's private conversations with the minister upon public topics had differed materially from that of his official communications. Genet intimated this when he said that “it was not in his character to speak, as many people do, in one way, and to act in another—to have an official language, and a language confidential.”[59]

While the subject of Genet's recall was pending, the minister proceeded to New York. Already the common sense of the people began to prevail over the nonsense of passion and feeling. Business-men—and the whole population of the country had interests directly associated with business-men—began to reflect upon the tendency of the doctrines of Genet, and clearly perceived that their practical effect would be the involvement of the United States in a war with England, and the sweeping of all their commerce from the ocean. From the moment when these reflections were heeded, there was a pause in the popular expressions of enthusiasm in favor of Genet. The last libations of fulsome adulation were poured out on his arrival in New York in September, while the whole town and surrounding country were wild with excitement. The frigate L'Embuscade, while lying in the harbor of New York, had been challenged to single combat by the British frigate Boston, then cruising off Sandy Hook. L'Embuscade accepted the challenge; a severe battle ensued; Captain Courtenay, commander of the Boston, was killed; and the French vessel returned in triumph to New York. Multitudes of people gathered upon the wharves and greeted her with loud cheers. The excitement was intensified by the arrival, on the same day, of a French fleet from Chesapeake bay, which anchored in the Hudson river. The commander of L'Embuscade, and the officers of the other French vessels, were regarded as almost superhuman by the most enthusiastic sympathizers with the French Revolution; and tri-colored ribbons and cockades were seen on every side, while the streets were made resonant with the Marsellaise Hymn and the Carmagnole.

While this new phase of excitement was at its culmination, the booming of cannon and the merry peal of the bells announced the approach of Citizen Genet. He was at Paulus' Hook (now Jersey City), opposite New York, and thousands of his friends immediately gathered in “The Fields” (now City-hall park) to adopt measures for his reception. A committee of escort was appointed, and Genet entered the city, amid the acclamations of an excited populace, with all the pomp of a conqueror. “Addresses were made to him,” says Mr. Irving, “expressing devoted attachment to the French republic, and abjuring all neutrality in regard to its heroic struggle. 'The cause of France is the cause of America,' cried the enthusiasts; 'it is time to distinguish its friends from its foes.' Genet looked around him. The tri-colored cockade figured in the hats of the shouting multitude; tri-colored ribbons fluttered from the dresses of females in the windows; the French flag was hoisted on the top of the Tontine coffee-house (the city exchange), surmounted by the cap of liberty. Can we wonder that what little discretion Genet possessed was completely overborne by this tide of seeming popularity?”

Genet had scarcely touched this cup of delight with his lips, when a copy of Jefferson's letter to Morris came to embitter the intoxicating draught. He received the document on the fifteenth of September, with assurances that, out of regard to the interests of France, the president would receive Mr. Genet's communications in writing, and respect him as the representative of his government until his successor should arrive, as long as his deportment should be of the tenor usually observed by embassadors toward independent nations. Genet was stung to the quick; and, three days after the receipt of this letter, he wrote a most angry reply to Jefferson, in which, as we have just noticed, he accused him of playing false to his professions of friendship, and charged the disfavor in which he was held by the government to the machinations of “aristocrats, partisans of monarchy, partisans of England and her constitution and consequently enemies of the principles which all good Frenchmen had imbued with religious enthusiasm;” and who, “instead of a democratic embassador, would prefer a minister of the ancient regimé, very complaisant, very gentle, very disposed to pay court to people in office, to conform blindly to everything which flattered their views and projects; above all, to prefer to the sure and modest society of good farmers, simple citizens, and honest artisans, that of distinguished personages who speculate so patriotically in the public funds, in the lands, and in the paper of government.”

Among the twelve enumerated great grievances of which Genet complained, was, that at his first interview with the president, the latter did not speak to him, specially, but of the friendship of the United States toward France; that he did not, with partisan enthusiasm, announce a single sentiment on the French Revolution, “while all the towns from Charleston to Philadelphia had made the air resound with their most ardent wishes for the French republic.” He complained that the president had admitted to a private audience, before his arrival, “Noailles[60] and Talon, known agents of the French counter-revolutionists;” that the “first magistrate of a free people decorated his parlor with certain medallions” of the murdered king and his family, “which served at Paris as signals of rallying;” that when he applied to the secretary of war to lend his government some cannon and firearms for defensive use in the Windward islands, that functionary had “the front to answer, with an ironical carelessness, that the principles established by the president did not permit him to lend the French “so much as a pistol!” and, lastly, that the president, in spite of the French minister's “respectful insinuations,” had deferred “to convoke Congress immediately in order to take the true sentiments of the people, to fix the political system of the United States, and to decide whether they would break, suspend, or tighten their bonds with France.”

Jefferson, who had become heartily disgusted with Genet, took no notice of this angry and insolent letter, and the speedily-changed tone of public feeling toward the writer justified the silence. His threat of appealing from the president to the people—in other words, to excite an insurrection for the purpose of overthrowing the government—had shocked the national pride, and many considerate republicans, who had been zealous in the cause of the French Revolution, paused while listening to the audacious words of a foreigner, who presumed to dictate a course of conduct for the beloved Washington to pursue.

The rumor of Genet's threat first went abroad in August, and met him, while on a visit to New York, in the form of a statement in one of the public papers. His partisans denied the truth of the statement, when Chief-Justice Jay and Rufus King (the latter a leading member of Congress) assumed the responsibility of it in a published note dated the twelfth of August. The fact was thus established, notwithstanding the violent assaults made by Genet's partisans upon the integrity of Messrs. Jay and King; and on the very day when, as we have observed, he was received in New York in the midst of pealing bells and roaring cannon, a public meeting was held, in which his insolence was rebuked, and the policy of Washington's proclamation of neutrality strongly commended. Similar meetings were held throughout the Union, and there soon appeared a demonstration of public sentiment, the existence of which was not suspected by the partisans of Genet. His more violent friends attempted to check the counter-current, but in vain. When they could no longer deny the fact of his menace, they unwisely advocated his right to appeal from the president to the people. But this advocacy, and Genet's own intemperate conduct, damaged his interests past recovery. The tide of his popularity began rapidly to ebb, and in the public mind there was commenced a strong and irresistible reaction in favor of the federal government.

During the summer of 1793, a malignant fever, with slow but sure steps, invaded the city of Philadelphia. One after another of the inhabitants fell before its pestilential breath, until at length physicians and the voice of daily experience pronounced it infectious. It was, in truth, the deadly yellow fever that had fastened its fangs upon the doomed city. With the conviction of imminent peril, the population began to move. Those whose circumstances permitted them to leave fled to the country; and as August, with its hot days and cool, moist nights, drew to a close, its intensity fearfully increased. It respected neither age nor class. Early in September, Hamilton, the secretary of the treasury, was prostrated by it, but recovered; and on the ninth, Washington with his family left for Mount Vernon, leaving directions about his household with General Knox, who resolved to remain, contrary to the advice of the president.

“I think it would not be prudent,” said Washington, “either for you or the clerks in your office, or the office itself, to be too much exposed to the malignant fever, which, by well-authenticated report, is spreading through the city.... I sincerely wish and pray that you and yours may escape untouched, and when we meet again, that it may be under circumstances more pleasing than the present.”

Washington would have remained longer, but Mrs. Washington, alarmed for the safety of the whole family (the house in which they lived being in a manner blockaded by the disorder), prevailed on him to leave. The fever continued to rage with great violence until late in October, when frost checked its progress. Before it ceased, between three and four thousand of the inhabitants of Philadelphia perished. There was mourning in almost every family; and during the ensuing session of Congress, there was very little gayety in the federal capital. Some of the physicians fled like cowards from the field of battle, while others remained and assumed the two-fold functions of physicians and nurses, during those dark days of the autumn of 1793. Among the latter was the eminent Doctor Rush, whose courage and philanthropy are matters of history.[61]

The progress of the disease in Philadelphia was watched by the president at Mount Vernon with great solicitude, as the autumn wore away, for it was near the time for the assembling of a new Congress, and public affairs demanded their earliest and most serious attention. September passed away, and much of October had gone, before the fever abated. Meanwhile, he proposed to call the Congress together at Germantown, or some other place near Philadelphia, at a safe distance from the pestilence. He had some doubt concerning his power to change the place of meeting, or to call them together at all, and asked the opinion of Mr. Randolph, the attorney-general. That gentleman expressed his belief that the president had not the power, and suggested the propriety of the Congress assembling at some place within the limits of Philadelphia, and then adjourning to some more remote and safe position. In the event of their not so assembling at the proper time, the “extraordinary occasion” contemplated by the constitution would occur, and the president then, clearly, had the right to call them together at the most suitable place. He also asked the opinions of other members of his cabinet on the subject; but the abatement of the disease rendered any change unnecessary.

At the close of October Washington set out for Philadelphia with his family, and there, on the second of December, the new Congress assembled.

FOOTNOTES:

[58] In a letter to Richard Henry Lee, written at Mount Vernon a few weeks later, Washington said: “On fair ground it would be difficult to assign reasons for the conduct of those [the republican party] who are arraigning, and, so far as they are able, constantly embarrassing, the measures of government with respect to its pacific disposition towards the belligerent powers in the convulsive dispute which agitates them. But their motives are too obvious to those who have the means of information, and have viewed the different grounds which they have taken, to mistake their object. It is not the cause of France, nor I believe of liberty, which they regard; for, could they involve this country in war (no matter with whom) and disgrace, they would be among the first and loudest of the clamorous against the expense and impolicy of the measure.”

[59] Genet's Letter to Jefferson, September 18, 1793.

[60] De Noailles was a young French nobleman, who married a sister of Madame Lafayette, and served with distinction at the siege of Yorktown, in 1781. Like his brother-in-law, the marquis, he had engaged warmly in the French Revolution, in its earlier stages, but, like him, found himself in a proscribed party, and obliged to fly for safety. He came to the United States by way of England, and early in May he was in Philadelphia with his friend Talon, seeking an audience with Washington. The latter, with his usual circumspection, declined any direct communication with him until the object of his visit should be known. In a note to Hamilton, Washington remarked, “I pray you intimate to him [Viscount de Noailles], gently and delicately, that if the letters or papers which he has to present are, knowingly to him, of a nature which relates to public matters, and not particularly addressed to me, or if he has any verbal communications to make of a similar kind, I had rather they should come through a proper channel. Add thereto, generally, that the peculiar situation of European affairs at this moment, my good wishes for his nation aggregately, my regard for those of it, in particular, with whom I have had the honor of an acquaintance, my anxious desire to keep this country in peace, and the delicacy of my situation, render a circumspect conduct indispensably necessary on my part. I do not, however, mean by this that I am to withhold from him such civilities as are common to others. Those more marked, notwithstanding our former acquaintance, would excite speculations, which had better be avoided.”

[61] Dr. Benjamin Rush was then in the prime of life, being forty-eight years of age. He had already achieved the highest success in his profession as a writer and practitioner; and as a member of the continental Congress, and signer of the Declaration of Independence, he had a wide-spread popularity. He founded the Philadelphia dispensary in 1786, and was one of the principal founders of Dickinson college, at Carlisle, in Pennsylvania. He was professor of medical science in the medical college of Philadelphia, and also in the medical college of Pennsylvania. He was president of the American Anti-slavery society and other associations for the good of mankind.

“In private life,” says Doctor John W. Francis, “his disposition and deportment were in the highest degree exemplary. Admired and courted for his intellectual endowments, he riveted to him the affections of all who enjoyed the pleasure of an intimate acquaintance. The affability of his manners, the amiableness of his temper, and the benevolence of his character, were ever conspicuous. He was ardent in his friendships, and forgiving in his resentments; and yet, entertaining a due regard for himself and a high sense of honor, he possessed a manly independence of spirit which disdained everything mean and servile. He had an extraordinary command of language, and always imparted his thoughts in a peculiarly impressive and eloquent manner. Those who had the happiness to experience the delights of his conversation will long recollect with pleasure his unassuming modesty, and the rich stores of knowledge he poured forth on the most instructive topics. Even when his opinions were solicited, they were given, not as the dictates or admonitions of a superior, but as the kind advice of a friend and equal. He never evinced any of that haughtiness and affectation of importance which sometimes attaches to men of eminence, and which so materially lessens the pleasures and comforts of social life.”—Sketch of the Life and Character of the late Doctor Benjamin Rush, in the American Medical and Philosophical Register, July, 1813.

CHAPTER XXIV.

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assembling of the third congress—its character—recommendations in washington's annual message—his special message concerning relations with europe—his notice of genet—opinions of the cabinet concerning the message—washington supported by congress—jefferson's report on commercial relations—his parting missile cast at genet—jefferson's retirement from office—washington's confidence in him—correspondence—jefferson at home—madison's resolutions based on jefferson's report.

The third Congress assembled at Philadelphia on the second of December. In the senate, many of the leading members of former sessions remained, having their places either by holding over or by re-election. Many of the old members of the house of representatives had also been re-chosen, and yet there were a great many changes in that body. The elements of party strife were active among them all, and it was evident to every man that a great struggle was impending. The aggressions of the British and the intrigues of Genet continued to inflame the zeal of the republicans, and they carried their partiality to France to a degree of absolute fanaticism. To many minds, open war between England and the United States appeared inevitable.

Washington's annual message, delivered at the opening of Congress, was calculated to still the turbulent waves of faction, had reason and judgment, and not passion and fanaticism, swayed the opinions of men. He expressed his sense of the continued confidence of the people in re-electing him to the high office of chief-magistrate of the nation; and then, in firm, explicit, and dignified terms, spoke of existing public affairs, especially the measures he had taken, in consequence of the war in Europe, to preserve peace at home and to protect the rights and interests of the United States. He pressed upon Congress the necessity of placing the country in a condition of complete defence, and of exacting from other governments the fulfilment of their duties toward his own.

“The United States ought not,” he said, “to indulge a persuasion that, contrary to the order of human events, they will for ever keep at a distance those painful appeals to arms with which the history of every other nation abounds. There is a rank due to the United States among nations which will be withheld, if not absolutely lost, by the reputation of weakness. If we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it. If we desire to secure peace, one of the most powerful instruments of our rising prosperity, it must be known that we are at all times ready for war.” With such suggestions, he urged them to adopt measures for increasing the amount of arms and ammunition in the arsenals, and to improve the militia establishment. He assured them that every reasonable effort had been made to adjust the causes of dissention with the Indians north of the Ohio, and yet war with them continued. He alluded to the political connection of the United States with Europe, and promised to give them, in a subsequent communication, a statement of occurrences which related to it, that had passed under the knowledge of the executive.

The president urged the house of representatives to adopt measures for the “regular redemption and discharge of the public debt,” as a matter of the first importance; and announced the necessity of an augmentation of the public revenue to meet all proper demands upon the treasury. He concluded by saying, “Permit me to bring to your remembrance the magnitude of your task. Without an unprejudiced coolness, the welfare of the government may be hazarded; without harmony, as far as consists with freedom of sentiment, its dignity may be lost. But, as the legislative proceedings of the United States will never, I trust, be reproached for the want of temper or of candor, so shall not the public happiness languish for the want of my strenuous and warmest co-operation.”

On the fifth of December, according to promise, Washington laid before Congress the documents relating, not only to Genet and his mission, but to negotiations with England and other European governments. In his message accompanying these documents, after alluding to the general feeling of friendship for the United States exhibited by the representative and executive bodies of France, the president spoke as follows of the insolent Genet:—

“It is with extreme concern I have to inform you, that the proceedings of the person whom they have unfortunately appointed their minister plenipotentiary here have breathed nothing of the friendly spirit of the nation which sent him. Their tendency, on the contrary, has been to involve us in war abroad, and discord and anarchy at home. So far as his acts, or those of his agents, have threatened our immediate commitment in the war, or flagrant insult to the authority of the laws, their effect has been counteracted by the ordinary cognizance of the laws, and by an exertion of the powers confided to me. Where their danger was not imminent, they have been borne with from sentiments of regard to his nation, from a sense of their friendship toward us, from a conviction that they would not suffer us to long remain exposed to the action of a person who has so little respected our mutual dispositions, and from a reliance on the firmness of my fellow-citizens in their principles of peace and order.” He then alluded to the spoliations which had been committed upon the commerce of the United States by the cruisers of the belligerent powers, and the restrictions upon American commerce attempted to be enforced by the commanders of British vessels pursuant to instructions of their government. He also called attention to the inexecution of the treaty of 1783, and the relations of the United States and Spain.

“The message,” says Hildreth, “as originally drafted by Jefferson, contained a contrast between the conduct of France and England, especially in relation to commercial facilities, highly favorable to the former. This had been objected to by Hamilton, who considered the disposition of the people toward France a serious calamity, and that the executive ought not, by echoing her praises, to nourish that disposition. In his opinion, the balance of commercial favors was decidedly with the British; the commercial offers made by France were the offspring of the moment, growing out of circumstances that could not last. To evade Hamilton's objections, Jefferson consented to some modifications of the message. Hamilton then insisted that the papers relating to the non-execution of the treaty of peace, and to the stopping of the corn-ships, ought not to be communicated, unless in a secret message, as the matters therein discussed were still unsettled, and the tendency of the communication was to inflame the public mind against Great Britain. Jefferson was a good deal alarmed at this threatened suppression of his diplomatic labors; but Washington decided that all the papers should be communicated without any restrictions of secrecy, even those respecting the corn-ships, which all the cabinet except Jefferson had advised to withhold.”

In a letter to his wife, written on the nineteenth of December, John Adams, referring to the sentence in Washington's special message in relation to the French minister, said, “The president has considered the conduct of Genet very nearly in the same light with Columbus, and has given him a bolt of thunder. We shall see how this is supported by both houses. We shall soon see whether we have any government or not in this country.” Doubting whether Washington would be sustained by Congress, Adams continued: “But, although he stands at present as high in the admiration and confidence of the people as ever he did, I expect he will find many bitter and desperate enemies arise in consequence of his just judgment against Genet.”

In this, Adams was mistaken. The house, where the opposition was most rampant, determined, and unscrupulous, responded most affectionately to the president's message, and tacitly rebuked the demagogues for their personal abuse of Washington. They expressed their satisfaction at his re-election, and their confidence in the purity and patriotism of his motives, in all his acts, especially in again consenting, at the call of his country, to fill the presidential chair. “It is to virtues which have commanded long and universal reverence, and services from which have flowed great and lasting benefits, that the tribute of praise may be paid, without the reproach of flattery; and it is from the same sources that the fairest anticipations may be derived in favor of the public happiness.”

Both houses, likewise, in the face of the popular excitement in favor of France, approved of the president's course in regard to that country and its representative; and while the lower house was guarded in its terms of approval of the proclamation of neutrality that had been so loudly condemned by the partisan press, the senate pronounced it “a measure well-timed and wise, manifesting a watchful solicitude for the welfare of the nation and calculated to promote it.”

Jefferson's official connection with Washington was now drawing to a close. He had consented to remain in the cabinet until the end of the current year. With the completion and submission of some able state papers he finished his career as secretary of state. One of them was an elaborate report called for by a resolution of Congress adopted in February, 1791, on the state of trade of the United States with different countries; the nature and extent of exports and imports, and the amount of tonnage of American shipping. It also specified the various restrictions and prohibitions by which American commerce was embarrassed and greatly injured, and recommended the adoption of discriminating duties, as against Great Britain, to compel her to put the United States on a more equal footing, she having thus far persistently declined to enter into any treaty stipulations on the subject.

Jefferson's last official act was the administration of a deserved rebuke to Genet. That meddling functionary had sent to him translations of the instructions given him by the executive council of France, desiring the president to lay them officially before both houses of Congress, and proposing to transmit, from time to time, other papers to be laid before them in like manner. “I have it in charge to observe,” said Jefferson to Genet in a letter on the thirty-first of December, “that your functions as the minister of a foreign nation here are confined to the transactions of the affairs of your nation with the executive of the United States; that the communications which are to pass between the executive and legislative branches can not be a subject for your interference; and that the president must be left to judge for himself what matters his duty, or the public good, may require him to propose to the deliberations of Congress. I have, therefore, the honor of returning you the copies sent for distribution, and of being, with great respect, sir, your most obedient and most humble servant.” Even this did not keep Genet quiet.

Throughout all the storm that had agitated his cabinet, and the hostility of Jefferson and his party to the measures of the administration, Washington never withheld from the secretary of state his confidence in his wisdom and patriotism; and the latter left office with the happy consciousness that he carried with him into retirement the friendship of one, of whom he said in after years, “His integrity was most pure, his justice the most inflexible I have ever known; no motives of interest or consanguinity, of friendship or hatred, being able to bias his decision. He was indeed, in every sense of the word, a wise, and good, and great man"[62]

On the last day of the year, Mr. Jefferson offered his resignation in the following letter to the president: “Having had the honor of communicating to you, in my letter of the last of July, my purpose of retiring from the office of secretary of state at the end of the month of September, you were pleased, for particular reasons, to wish its postponement to the close of the year. That time being now arrived, and my propensities to retirement daily more and more irresistible, I now take the liberty of resigning the office into your hands. Be pleased to accept with it my sincere thanks for all the indulgences which you have been so good as to exercise toward me in the discharge of its duties. Conscious that my need of them have been great, I have still ever found them greater, without any other claim on my part than a firm pursuit of what has appeared to me to be right, and a thorough disdain of all means which were not as open and honorable as their object was pure. I carry into my retirement a lively sense of your goodness, and shall continue gratefully to remember it.

“With very sincere prayers for your life, health, and tranquillity, I pray you to accept the homage of great and constant respect and attachment.”

To this Washington replied the next day as follows: “I yesterday received, with sincere regret, your resignation of the office of secretary of state. Since it has been impossible to prevail upon you to forego any longer the indulgence of your desire for private life, the event, however anxious I am to avert it, must be submitted to.

“But I can not suffer you to leave your station without assuring you that the opinion which I had formed of your integrity and talents, and which dictated your original nomination, has been confirmed by the fullest experience, and that both have been eminently displayed in the discharge of your duty.

“Let a conviction of my most earnest prayers for your happiness accompany you in your retirement; and while I accept, with the warmest thanks, your solicitude for my welfare, I beg you to believe that I always am, dear sir, &c.”

Edmund Randolph, the attorney-general, took Jefferson's place in the cabinet, and his own was filled by William Bradford, of Pennsylvania. Mr. Jefferson left the seat of government as soon as possible after withdrawing from public life; and a fortnight after his resignation he arrived at Monticello, his beautiful home in the interior of Virginia, in full view of the Blue Ridge along a continuous line of almost sixty miles. He was then fifty years of age. His whole family, with all his servants, were at his home to receive him; and so delightful was this, his first experience of private life for many long years, that he resolved to abandon himself to it entirely.

He boasted, almost a month after he left Philadelphia, that he had not seen a newspaper since his flight from the cares of government, and he declared that he thought of never taking one again. “I think it is Montaigne,” he wrote to Edmund Randolph on the third of February, “who has said that ignorance is the softest pillow on which a man can rest his head. I am sure it is true, as to anything political, and shall endeavor to estrange myself to everything of that character.” But his hatred of Hamilton, and his persistence in regarding the political friends of that gentleman as necessarily corrupt, would not allow party feud to sleep in his mind, and he added, in the next sentence, “I indulge myself on one political topic only; that is, in declaring to my countrymen the shameless corruption of a portion of the representatives to the first and second Congress, and their implicit devotion to the treasury.”

Meanwhile, the report of Jefferson on commercial affairs was eliciting warm debates in Congress. In that report he had suggested two methods for modifying or removing commercial restrictions: first, by amicable arrangements with foreign powers; and, secondly, by counteracting acts of the legislature. With the design, as we have seen, of distressing France by cutting off her supplies, two orders in council were issued by the British government, one in June and the other in November, which bore heavily upon the commercial prosperity of the United States. By the first order, British cruisers were instructed to stop all ships laden with corn, flour, or meal (corn-ships already alluded to), bound to any French port, and send them to any convenient port, home or continental, where the cargoes might be purchased in behalf of the British government. By the second, British ships-of-war and privateers were required to detain all vessels laden with goods produced in any colony belonging to France, or with provisions for any such colony, and bring them to adjudication before British courts of admiralty. These were such flagrant outrages upon the rights of neutrals, that the United States government strongly remonstrated against them as unjust in principle and injurious in their practical effects. It was to these orders in council and their effects that the president pointed in his annual message, when urging the necessity of placing the country in a state of defense, and in a position to assert its just rights.[63]

Mr. Jefferson's report gave rise to a series of resolutions offered, by Mr. Madison on the third of January, 1794, the leading idea of which was that of opposing commercial resistance to commercial injury, and to enforce a perfect equality by retaliating impositions on the assumption that the commercial system of Great Britain was hostile to that of the United States. This scheme embodied the idea of a proposition made by Madison in the first Congress. His resolutions now took wider range, however, than did his proposition then. It was now proposed to impose restrictions and additional duties on the manufactures and navigation of nations which had no commercial treaties with the United States, and a reduction of duties on the tonnage of vessels belonging to nations with which such treaties existed.

FOOTNOTES:

[62] Letter to Doctor Walter Jones, January 2, 1814.

[63] In allusion to the annual and special messages of Washington at this time, the eminent Charles James Fox made the following remarks in the British parliament on the thirty-first of January, 1794:—

“And here, sir, I can not 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 ministers of this country. How infinitely wiser must appear the spirit and principles manifested in his late addresses 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 provocations of the French minister, Genet, could turn him from his purpose. Intrusted 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 for their principles, and considered no precaution as 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 can not, 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 talent 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 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 of 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.”

CHAPTER XXV.

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debates on madison's resolutions—their fate—proceedings in regard to algerine corsairs—commencement of a navy—first committee of ways and means—frigates ordered to be built—naval officers appointed—genet recalled—arrival of his successor—genet marries and becomes an american citizen—excitement against great britain—appointment of a special envoy to the british court discussed—john jay appointed—belligerent action in congress—james monroe appointed morris's successor in france—adjournment of congress—washington visits mount vernon—rebellious movements in kentucky—washington's comments thereon.

1794

Madison's resolutions elicited very warm, and at times, violent debates. The subject was of a purely commercial nature; but the questions it involved were so interwoven with political considerations, that the debates inevitably assumed a political and partisan aspect. The federalists plainly saw that the recommendations in Jefferson's report, and in the resolutions of Madison, hostility to England and undue favor toward France, neither position being warranted by a wise policy, nor consistent with neutrality. The republicans, on the other hand, regarded the scheme as equitable in itself, and as absolutely necessary for the assertion of the rights of neutral nations, and the protection of American commerce from insult, aggression, and plunder. These debates, which commenced on the thirteenth of January, continued until the third of February, with few intermissions; and the house was so nearly equally divided in sentiment, that the first resolution, authorizing commercial restrictions, was passed by a majority of only five. This was subsequently rejected in the senate by the casting vote of the vice-president, and the further consideration of the whole subject was postponed until March. When it was resumed, the progress of events had given such new complexion to the whole matter, that it was indefinitely postponed.

A new and important subject for legislation was brought up at this time. Very soon after the close of the Revolution, the piratical practices of corsairs belonging to the Barbary powers on the southern shores of the Mediterranean sea, and particularly of Algiers, had suggested the importance of a naval establishment for the protection of the infant commerce of the new-born nation. Many American merchant-ships, trading in the Mediterranean sea, were captured by these corsairs, their cargoes appropriated by the pirates, and their crews sold into slavery. Toward the close of 1790, President Washington called the attention of Congress to the subject, and at the same time Mr. Jefferson, the secretary of state, who had made himself thoroughly acquainted with the facts when in France, gave many interesting details in an official report on the subject.

Colonel David Humphreys was appointed a commissioner to treat with the dey or governor of Algiers concerning his corsairs; but that semi-barbarian—proud, haughty, and avaricious—was not disposed to relinquish his share of the profitable sea-robberies carried on under his sanction. “If I were to make peace with everybody,” he said, “what should I do with my corsairs? What should I do with my soldiers? They would take off my head for the want of other prizes, not being able to live on their miserable allowance!”

This was certainly good logic for the perplexed dey, but it did not convince Humphreys of the justice of piratical practices; and, at the close of 1793, he wrote to the government of the United States, “If we mean to have a commerce, we must have a navy to defend it. Besides, the very semblance of this would tend more toward enabling us to maintain our neutrality, in the actual critical state of affairs in Europe, than all the declarations, reasonings, concessions, and sacrifices, that can possibly be made.”

Washington had communicated to the house on the twenty-third day of December, in a confidential message, the state of affairs with Algiers; and its consideration with closed doors brought about a debate as to whether the public should at any time, or under any circumstances, be excluded from the galleries of the halls of Congress. This, however, interrupted the business only for a short time.

On the second of January, a committee was appointed to report the amount of force necessary to protect American commerce against the Algerine corsairs, and the ways and means for its support. This was the first committee of ways and means ever appointed by Congress, questions of that sort having been hitherto referred to the secretary of the treasury. It indicated an opposition majority in the house, but, as we have seen in the case of Madison's resolutions, it was very small.

Finally, in the spring of 1794, Congress passed an act to provide for a naval armament, because, as the preamble recited, “the depredations committed by the Algerine corsairs on the commerce of the United States, render it necessary that a naval force should be provided for its protection.” The bill met with strenuous opposition: first, because the time required to form a navy would be too long, the pressing exigency of the case requiring immediate action; and, secondly, because it would be cheaper to purchase the friendship of Algiers by paying a money-tribute, as had been done for some time by European nations, or to purchase the protection of those nations. It appears strange that suggestions so degrading to the character of a free and independent nation should not have been met with indignant rebuke.

The bill was passed by a small majority. The president was authorized to provide four frigates, to carry forty-four guns each, and two to carry thirty-six guns each, and to equip, man, and employ them. The act also gave him some discretion about the size and metal of the vessels. Washington, impressed with the stern necessity that called for this armament, immediately ordered the six vessels to be built, one each at Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Portsmouth in Virginia, and Portsmouth in New Hampshire. He also, with the advice and consent of the senate, proceeded to appoint six naval commanders and other officers; and thus was commenced the navy of the United States.[64]

American Naval Commanders

During the progress of the debates on Madison's resolutions, Washington communicated to Congress evidences of efforts on the part of Genet to excite the people of portions of the Union against the Spanish authorities on its southwestern border, and to organize military expeditions against Louisiana and the Floridas. It was now determined to bear with the insolence and mischievous meddling of the French minister no longer; and, at a cabinet council, it was agreed that his diplomatic functions should be suspended, the privileges resting thereon to be denied him, and his person arrested. This was the only course for the government to pursue for the preservation of its dignity, and perhaps the safety of the republic. This resolution was about to be put into execution, when a despatch was received from Gouverneur Morris announcing Genet's recall. The French minister of foreign affairs had, as soon as he heard of Genet's misconduct, reprobated it as unauthorized by his government, and appointed M. Fauchet secretary of the executive council to succeed him. At the same time the French government asked the recall of Gouverneur Morris, whose views of democracy, as he saw it daily in Paris, did not coincide with the doctrines of the Jacobins. Morris was recalled, and Washington, with a liberal spirit, nominated James Monroe, a political opponent, as his successor. He knew that Monroe would be acceptable to the French Convention, and likely, therefore, to be useful to his government.

Fauchet was a keen diplomatist, and came as the representative of an administration more radical in its democracy than the one that appointed Genet. The Girondists had fallen, and the government of France had passed into the hands of Danton and Robespierre, the leaders of the Jacobins. The Reign of Terror was now in full force. The republican constitution had been suspended, and the Convention had assumed despotic powers with bloody proclivities. Even the warmest sympathizers with the French Revolution, in America, stood appalled at the aspect of affairs there; and many began to doubt, after all, whether English liberty was not preferable to French liberty.[65]

Fauchet arrived at Philadelphia in February, and Genet had liberty to return to France. But he did not choose to trust his person to the caprices of his countrymen in that time of anarchy and blood, and he remained in America. He married Cornelia Tappen, daughter of Governor Clinton, of New York, and became a resident of that state. He at once disappeared from the firmament of politics, but was an excellent citizen of his adopted country, and took great interest in agriculture. His course as minister has been ably defended; but the verdict of impartial history condemns it as unwise and unwarrantable, to say the least. He died at his residence in Greenbush, opposite Albany, in July, 1834.

Another subject now violently agitated the American people. The news of the British orders in council concerning the French colonial trade had produced great excitement in commercial circles at Philadelphia and New York. It was considered a flagrant act of injustice toward neutrals, and both parties vehemently condemned the British government. In Congress a resolution was offered for the raising of fifteen thousand men to serve two years, and for other preparations for war; and it was at this juncture that Madison's commercial resolutions, as we have observed, were called up, debated, and indefinitely postponed. While the debates on these resolutions were pending, the feeling against Great Britain was further stimulated by the publication, in New York, of a reputed speech of Lord Dorchester (Carleton), governor of Canada, to a deputation of Indians of Lower Canada, who had attended a great council of savage tribes, in the Ohio country, in 1793. In this speech, Dorchester, it was alleged, openly avowed his opinion that war between the United States and Great Britain would be commenced that year, and that “a new line between the two nations must be drawn by the sword.” This document was pronounced a forgery. But it had its intended effect in increasing the hatred of Great Britain in the hearts of a very large portion of the American people. Congress, under the excitement of the moment, passed a joint resolution, laying an embargo for thirty days, and afterward for thirty days longer, for the purpose of preventing British supply-ships carrying provisions to their fleet in the West Indies. It was also proposed to enroll an army of eighty thousand minute-men, to man forts and be ready for action; also an additional standing army of twenty thousand men.

War with Great Britain now seemed inevitable. To avert it, was Washington's most anxious solicitude; and, firm in his purpose of preserving for his country neutrality and peace, he resolved to make an experiment for the maintenance of both, by sending an envoy extraordinary to England to open negotiations anew. It required great heroism to attempt such a course; for the popular excitement was intense, and the idea of holding any further intercourse with England was scouted as pusillanimous. The tri-colored cockade was seen upon every side, and the partisans of the French regicides appeared again to rule the popular will for the hour.

While the public mind was thus agitated, the president received despatches from Mr. Pinckney, the resident American minister in London, advising him that the offensive orders in council of the previous November, concerning neutral ships, had been revoked, and that Lord Grenville, in conversation, had assured Mr. Pinckney that that measure had not been intended for the special vexation of American commerce, but to distress France. This intelligence subdued the belligerent tone of the opposition for a moment; yet they showed no reluctance to an open rupture with Great Britain, affecting to regard Grenville's words as insincere. Their vehement opposition to the appointment of a special envoy was speedily renewed, and unscrupulous partisans kept up the war-cry. The opposition press and the democratic societies used every means to inflame the populace and increase the exasperation of their feelings toward Great Britain; and they declared that the crisis had arrived when decision and energy, not moderation toward that government, was demanded.

But these manifestations had no sensible effect upon Washington. His purpose had been adopted after mature reflection. His sagacious mind perceived clearly the probability of success, and his moral heroism, as on all other occasions, was proof against animadversions. He hesitated only when the question, Who shall be appointed? was presented.

Washington's first preference for the mission was Hamilton; but the earliest intimation of this preference that reached the public ear raised a storm of opposition. The proposed mission itself was condemned as a cowardly advance to the British government; and a member of the house of representatives addressed an earnest letter to the president, opposing the mission in general terms, and in an especial manner deprecating the appointment of Hamilton as the envoy to be employed. Senator James Monroe also took upon himself the task of remonstrating with Washington, in writing, against the nomination of Hamilton, assuring him that it would be injurious to the public interest and to the interest of the president himself; and proposed to explain his reasons at a private interview. Washington declined the interview, but requested Mr. Monroe to submit to him, in writing, any facts he might possess which would disqualify the secretary of the treasury for the mission; and added: “Colonel Hamilton and others have been mentioned, but no one is yet absolutely decided upon in my mind. But, as much will depend, among other things, upon the abilities of the person sent, and his knowledge of the affairs of this country, and as I am alone responsible for a proper nomination, it certainly behooves me to name such a one as, in my judgment, combines the requisites for a mission so peculiarly interesting to the peace and happiness of this country.” Nothing more was heard from Mr. Monroe on the subject.

Hamilton, with his usual disinterestedness, relieved the president by advising him to choose, for the proposed envoy, Chief-Justice Jay. In a long letter to the president, written on the fifteenth of April, in which he took a general and comprehensive view of national affairs and the relative position of the country to England, he recommended him to nominate, as special minister to England, a person who should “have the confidence of those who think peace still within our reach, and who may be thought qualified for the mission,” with an observation to Congress that it was done “with an intention to make a solemn appeal to the justice and good sense of the British government;” at the same time, to make an “earnest recommendation that vigorous and effectual measures may be adopted to be prepared for war.”

Hamilton then alluded to the fact that Washington had contemplated nominating him for the mission; and after saying that he was well aware of the obstacles that existed, and that he would be “completely and entirely satisfied with the election of another,” he nominated Mr. Jay, as “the only man in whose qualifications for success there would be thorough confidence.... I think,” he continued, “the business would have the best chance possible in his hands, and I flatter myself that his mission would issue in a manner that would produce the most important good to the nation.”

“Let me add, sir,” said Hamilton in conclusion, “that those whom I call the sober-minded men of the country, look up to you with solicitude on the present occasion. If happily you should be the instrument of still rescuing the country from the dangers and calamities of war, there is no part of your life, sir, which will produce to you more real satisfaction, or true glory, than that which shall be distinguished by this very important service.”

Washington took Hamilton's advice, and, in the following message to the senate, nominated Mr. Jay for the mission:—

“Gentlemen of the Senate:—The communications which I have made to you during the present session, from the despatches of our minister in London, contain a serious aspect of our affairs with Great Britain. But, as peace ought to be pursued with unremitted zeal before the last resource, which has so often been the scourge of nations, and can not fail to check the advancing prosperity of the United States, is contemplated, I have thought proper to nominate, and do hereby nominate, John Jay as envoy extraordinary of the United States to his Britannic majesty.

“My confidence in our minister plenipotentiary in London continues undiminished. But a mission like this, while it corresponds with the solemnity of the occasion, will announce to the world a solicitude for a friendly adjustment of our complaints, and a reluctance to hostility. Going immediately from the United States, such an envoy will carry with him a full knowledge of the existing temper and sensibility of our country, and will thus be taught to vindicate our rights with firmness, and to cultivate peace with sincerity.”

Mr. Jay had recently arrived in Philadelphia from New York, and consented to accept the nomination. It was confirmed by the senate on Saturday, the nineteenth of April, by a majority of eighteen to eight; Aaron Burr being among the few who opposed it, it being his practice to dissent from every measure proposed by Washington.

Conscious of the urgency of his mission, Mr. Jay made immediate preparations for his departure; and on the twelfth of May he embarked at New York, with Colonel John Trumbull, the artist, as his secretary. He was accompanied to the ship by about a thousand of his fellow-citizens, who desired thus to testify their personal respect and their interest in his mission of peace. A few days preceding, the Democratic Society of Philadelphia issued a most inflammatory denunciation of the mission and the minister; and the opposition in the lower house of Congress succeeded in adopting a resolution to cut off all intercourse with Great Britain. It was lost in the senate by the casting vote of Vice-President Adams; “not,” as Washington remarked in a letter to Tobias Lear on the sixth of May, “as it is said and generally believed, from a disinclination to the ulterior expedience of the measure, but from a desire to try the effect of negotiation previous thereto.” Mr. Monroe, acting under instructions from the Virginia legislature, proposed in the senate to suspend by law the article of the treaty of peace which secured to British creditors the right of recovering in the United States their honest debts. This proposition was frowned down by every right-minded man in that chamber.

Another delicate matter connected with the foreign relations of the United States now occupied the mind of Washington. The French government, as we have observed, on recalling Genet, asked that of the United States to recall Mr. Morris. Washington was anxious to appoint a judicious successor—one that would be acceptable to the French, and who would not compromise the neutrality of his own country. He confided in Pinckney, and desired Mr. Jay, in the event of his mission being successful, to remain in London as resident minister. Pinckney would then be sent to France. But Jay would not consent to the arrangement. Washington then offered the French mission to Robert R. Livingston, chancellor of the state of New York, who, with his extensive and influential family connections, was in politics a republican. Livingston declined, and the president finally offered it to James Monroe. He consented to serve, and his nomination was confirmed by the senate on the twenty-eighth of May. Soon after this, John Quincy Adams, son of the vice-president, was appointed minister at the Hague in place of Mr. Short, Jefferson's secretary of legation in France, who went to Spain to ascertain what Carmichael, the American minister there, was doing, his government being unable to hear from him except at long intervals.

Mr. Monroe arrived in Paris toward the middle of August, and immediately sent to the president of the convention the following letter:—

“Citizen-President:—Having, several days since, arrived with a commission from the president of the United States of America, to represent those states in quality of minister plenipotentiary at the capital of the French republic, I have thought it my duty to make my mission known as early as possible to the national representatives. It belongs to them to determine the day, and to point out the mode, in which I am to be acknowledged the representative of their ally and sister republic. I make this communication with the greater pleasure, because it affords me an opportunity, not only to certify to the representatives of the free citizens of France my personal attachment to the cause of liberty, but to assure them at the same time, in the most positive way, that the government and people of America take the highest interest in the liberty, success, and prosperity of the French republic.”

Robespierre had lately fallen. His bloody rule was at an end. For some time he had been hated by the Convention, to which body reason and conscience were bringing their convictions. On the twenty-eighth of July the Convention resolved to crush him. Billaud Varennes, in a speech replete with invective, denounced him as a tyrant; and when Robespierre attempted to speak, his voice was drowned with cries of “Down with the tyrant! down with the tyrant!” A decree of outlawry was then passed, and he and some of his friends were ordered to immediate execution. With their fall the Reign of Terror ended. The nation breathed freer, and the curtain fell upon one of the bloodiest tragedies in the history of the race.

It was at this auspicious moment that Monroe appeared. The sentiments of his letter were so much in consonance with the feelings of the hour, that it is said the president of the Convention embraced Monroe affectionately when they met. It was decreed that the American and French flags should be entwined and hung up in the hall of the Convention, as an emblem of the union of the two republics; and Monroe, not to be outdone in acts of courtesy, presented the banner of his country to the Convention in the name of his people.

Congress adjourned on the ninth of June to the first Monday in the succeeding November. The session had been a stormy one. Questions of national policy had arisen, which called forth some of the most animated and eloquent discussions ever held upon the floor of the house of representatives; and when the adjournment took place, questions were pending, the solution of which caused many an anxious hour to the president and the friends of the republic.

As soon as Washington could make proper arrangements, he set out on a flying visit to Mount Vernon. Many persons had predicted that the yellow fever would reappear in Philadelphia during that summer; and, to guard his family against the dangers of its presence, he removed them to a pleasant house at Germantown. On the eighteenth of June he left for the Potomac; and at Baltimore he wrote a brief letter to Gouverneur Morris, assuring him of his undiminished personal friendship, notwithstanding his recall. At Mount Vernon he wrote another, in which Washington evinced his consciousness that vigilant eyes were upon all his public movements, and not with friendly intent. “The affairs of this country,” he said to Morris ironically, “can not go wrong; there are so many watchful guardians of them, and such infallible guides, that no one is at a loss for a director at every turn.”

Washington did not return to Philadelphia quite as early as he had anticipated, owing to an injury to his back, received while using exertions to prevent himself and horse being precipitated among the rocks at the Falls of the Potomac, at Georgetown, whither he went on a Sunday morning to view the canal and locks at that place, in which he felt a deep interest. He was back, however, early in July, and was soon informed of popular movements in western Pennsylvania and in Kentucky, which presented the serious question whether the government had sufficient strength to execute its own laws.

The movement in Kentucky was the result, in a great degree, of Genet's machinations, and the influence of the Democratic societies. It is true, there had been dissatisfaction among the people there for several years, because the Spanish government kept the Mississippi closed against American commerce. Now, that dissatisfaction assumed the form of menace. During the recent session of Congress, the people of that region sent a remonstrance to the supreme legislature respecting the navigation of the Mississippi. It was intemperate and indecorous in language. It charged the government with being under the influence of a local policy, which had prevented its making a single real effort for the security of the commercial advantages which the people of the West demanded, and cast aspersions upon the several departments of government. They also intimated that they would leave the Union if their grievances were not speedily redressed, and the “great territorial right” of the free navigation of the Mississippi secured to them.

This remonstrance was referred to a committee by the senate, who reported, that such rights to the navigation of the great river as were sought by the western people were well asserted in the negotiations then going on at Madrid; and on the recommendation of the committee, the senate resolved that the president should be requested to communicate to the governor of Kentucky such part of the pending treaty between the United States and Spain as he might deem advisable, and not inconsistent with the course of the negotiation. The house of representatives also passed a resolution, expressing their conviction that the president was doing all in his power to bring about the negotiation as speedily as possible.

The demagogues at the West, who hoped to profit by the excitement and bring about hostilities with the Spaniards in Louisiana, refused to be soothed by these assurances; and at a convention of a number of the principal citizens of Kentucky, assembled at Lexington, the following intemperate and indecorous resolutions were adopted:—

“That the general government, whose duty it is to put us in possession of this right [free navigation of the Mississippi] have, either through design or mistaken policy, adopted no effectual measures for its attainment.

“That even the measures they have adopted have been uniformly concealed from us, and veiled in mysterious secrecy.

“That civil liberty is prostituted, when the servants of the people are suffered to tell their masters, that communications which they may judge important may not be intrusted to them.”

These resolutions concluded with a recommendation of county meetings, of county committees of correspondence, and of a convention when it might be judged expedient, to deliberate on the proper steps for the attainment and security of their just rights.

No doubt the leaders in these movements felt indignant because an expedition, which had been prepared in the West for an invasion of Louisiana under the auspices of Genet, had been frustrated by the vigilance of the president, who, when informed of the fact, had ordered General Wayne, then in the Ohio country, to establish a military post at an eligible place on the Ohio river, to stop any armed men who should be going down that stream. This interference with what they had been taught to believe were their inalienable rights was considered a very great grievance.

In a private letter, on the tenth of August, Washington referred to these movements in Kentucky, and said, after expressing a conviction that there “must exist a predisposition among them to be dissatisfied:” “The protection they receive, and the unwearied endeavors of the general government to accomplish, by repeated and ardent remonstrances, what they seem to have most at heart—namely, the navigation of the Mississippi—obtain no credit with them, or, what is full as likely, may be concealed from them, or misrepresented by those societies, which, under specious colorings, are spreading far and wide, either from real ignorance of the measures pursued by the government, or from a wish to bring it, as much as they are able, into discredit; for what purposes, every man is left to his own conjectures.”

Washington continued: “That similar attempts to give discontent to the public mind have been practised with too much success in some of the western counties in this state [Pennsylvania], you are, I am certain, not to learn. Actual rebellion against the laws of the United States exists at this moment, notwithstanding every lenient measure, which could comport with the duties of the public officers, has been exercised to reconcile them to the collection of taxes upon spirituous liquors and stills. What may be the consequence of such violent and outrageous proceedings is painful in a high degree, even in contemplation. But, if the laws are to be so trampled upon with impunity, and a minority, a small one too, is to dictate to the majority, there is an end put, at one stroke, to republican government; and nothing but anarchy and confusion are to be expected hereafter. Some other man or society may dislike another law, and oppose it with equal propriety, until all laws are prostrate, and every one—the strongest, I presume—will carve for himself.”

Washington alluded to the rebellious movement in western Pennsylvania, at that time, known in history as “The Whiskey Insurrection.”

FOOTNOTES:

[64] The following are the names of the officers appointed by Washington: John Barry, Samuel Nicholson, Silas Talbot, Richard Dale, Thomas Truxton, James Sever, commanders; Joshua Humphreys, George Cleghorn, Forman Cheeseman, John Morgan, David Stodder, James Hackett, naval constructors; Isaac Coxe, Henry Jackson, John Blagge, W. Pennock, Jeremiah Yellott, Jacob Sheafe, navy agents.

[65] A striking caricature appeared a little earlier than this, entitled The Contrast. It was in the form of two medallions, one called English liberty, and the other French liberty. On the former is seen Britannia, holding the pileus and cap of liberty in one hand with Magna Charta, and in the other the scales of justice. At her feet stoops a lion; and on the placid sea, in the distance, is a British merchant-vessel under full sail. Under the medallion are the words, “Religion, Morality, Loyalty, Obedience to the Laws, Independence, Personal Security, Justice, Inheritance, Protection, Property, Industry, National Prosperity, Happiness.” On the latter medallion is a fury, in the form of a woman; her hair formed of serpents; flames issuing from her cestus of snakes; in one hand a bloody sword, in the other a trident—the head of a man, streaming with blood upon one prong, and a human heart upon each of the others; while under her feet is a prostrate, naked, headless man. In the distance is seen a street lamp, with a man hanging by the neck from its supporting bracket. Under this medallion are the words, “Atheism, Perjury, Rebellion, Treason, Anarchy, Murder, Equality, Madness, Cruelty, Injustice, Treachery, Ingratitude, Idleness, Famine, National and Private Ruin, Misery.” Below all is the significant question, “Which is best?”

CHAPTER XXVI.

TOP

the whiskey insurrection in western pennsylvania—a glance at its progress—washington's proclamation—his opinion of the influence of the democratic societies—a military force called out—their leaders—peace commissioners and the result of their mission—washington joins the military at carlisle—the veteran morgan in the field—his correspondence with washington—insurgents alarmed—washington at fort cumberland and bedford—lee the commander-in-chief of the army—washington returns to philadelphia—march of the army over the mountains—the insurrection quelled without bloodshed.

While the inhabitants of Kentucky were talking of insurrection, those of some of the western counties of Pennsylvania actually lifted the arm of defiance against the general government. In August, 1794, acts were committed in opposition to the ministers of the law, which called for the interference of the powers of the federal executive, and the episode in our history known as “The Whiskey Insurrection” was inaugurated. Properly to understand its character, we must take a brief glance at its antecedents. Some of these have already been alluded to in our consideration of the revenue system of the new government.

Among other taxes recommended by Secretary Hamilton for the support of the government, and authorized by a bill reported in the house of representatives in January, 1791, was one upon domestic distilled spirits and distilleries. As whiskey was almost entirely a luxury, and not a necessity, it seemed a just subject for levying a duty upon. And the College of Physicians of Philadelphia advocated it as desirable both to the morals and bodily health of the people. The bill was passed and received Washington's signature. It imposed a tax of from nine to twenty-six cents a gallon upon spirits distilled from grain. Regulations for the collection of these duties were made and officers appointed to collect them. Opposition to the law manifested itself in various parts of the Union immediately after its passage, but nowhere so prominently as in Pennsylvania. In July, 1791, a public meeting on the subject was held at Red Stone (Brownsville), when it was arranged that county committees should be convened at the different shire towns of Alleghany, Fayette, Washington, and Westmoreland counties. In August, at a meeting of another committee already alluded to,[66] one of the resolutions adopted, as we have seen, declared, after condemning the law, that whosoever should accept office under it should be considered an enemy to his country, should be treated with contempt, and all intercourse with him be dissolved. These resolutions were published in a Pittsburgh paper and produced a feverish excitement.

Early in September another meeting was held in Pittsburgh. Twelve delegates were present, and many complaints against the government, in connection with the excise law, were recited. They adopted a representation to Congress, and a remonstrance to the legislature of Pennsylvania, against the excise on whiskey. Not long after this, a collector of the revenue for two of the counties before-named was seized, tarred and feathered, and deprived of his horse, by some armed men in disguise. The perpetrators were known, however, and processes were issued against them from the district court of Pennsylvania; but the public feeling was so strongly against the law, west of the Alleghany mountains, that, as a marshal to whom the writ was committed for execution said, “any attempt to serve it would have occasioned the most violent opposition from a greater portion of the inhabitants;” and he declared that if he had attempted it, he believed he would not have returned alive.

The resistance to law now assumed most alarming aspects. The meetings, said Secretary Hamilton in a report upon the subject, “composed of very influential persons, and conducted without moderation and prudence, were justly chargeable with the excesses which have from time to time been committed, serving to give consistency to an opposition, which had at length matured to a point that threatened the foundations of the government and the Union, unless speedily and effectually subdued.”

The working of the federal government was then merely experimental, and those who had charge of the complicated and precious machine, and regarded it as the very ark of freedom, used its powers with wise caution. Therefore, while occasional outrages in connection with the excise laws were perpetrated, it was thought best to let coercive measures against the law-breakers remain untried, until at the next session of Congress some modifications of the law might be made to allay excitement.

In May, 1792, an act of Congress became a law which materially modified the provisions of the excise act. The duty on whiskey and stills was so reduced as to silence all complaints on that head. All serious objections to the old law were considered, and the act was so amended as to promise peace; but there were men of influence who would not accept these concessions, and they kept up the opposition excitement. The well-disposed citizens were intimidated by the violent ones of the opposition. In August, 1792, a meeting of the malcontents was held at Pittsburgh, at which resolutions were passed no less objectionable than those adopted the year before. After denouncing the tax on spirituous liquors, they concluded by declaring that they considered it their duty to “persist in remonstrances to Congress and every other legal measure that might obstruct the operations of the law.” Almost daily outrages were committed, and three or four counties of western Pennsylvania assumed many of the features of openly rebellious communities. It was then that Washington, under the advice of Hamilton and others, issued his proclamation of September the sixteenth, 1792, warning all persons to desist from such unlawful combinations, et cetera.[67] Some legal steps were taken against the malcontents, but these and the proclamation were of little effect toward subduing the rebellious and quieting the excitement. The officers of the law were still defied, denounced, insulted, and abused.

At the next session of Congress (1792-'93) inefficient efforts were made to amend the excise laws. The forbearance of the federal government was construed by the ringleaders of the opposition as weakness, and they became more bold. Distillers who were willing to comply with the law were abused. Finally, the Congress passed an act, which became a law in 1794, calculated to strengthen the executive arm in enforcing obedience. This law made the opposition still more earnest and bold; and few men in the district of country where they exercised a sort of reign of terror dared openly to dissent from their views. So general was the combined influence of actual disaffection upon one portion of the community, and dread of the violence of the turbulent, among the others, that out of the family connection of General Neville, inspector of revenues, the employées of the government, and two others, there were none in Pittsburgh who dared to condemn these lawless proceedings, for fear of personal harm. Mails were robbed; Neville's house was twice attacked and finally burned by an armed party of lawless men; and preparations were made to seize Fort Fayette, in that region. Among the leaders of the insurgents was one Bradford, who, by common consent, appears to have assumed the position of commander-in-chief. At this time the insurrectionary spirit had spread into adjoining counties of Maryland and Virginia, and Bradford and his associate leaders issued a call for the assembling of the militia on Braddock's field, on the first of August, with arms and accoutrements, and provisions for four days. Within three days seven thousand men were assembled, some of them out of curiosity, but a greater part with the determination to follow, in resistance to the federal and state governments, wherever Bradford and others might lead.

It was Bradford's design to seize Fort Pitt and its arms and ammunition; but he found most of the militia officers unwilling to co-operate in such an overt act of treason. But they readily consented to the perpetration of outrages against excise officers, and the whole country in that region was governed, for the moment, by the combined powers of mobocracy and military despotism.

When intelligence of these proceedings reached the president, he called his cabinet into council. All regarded the movement as a critical one for the republic. The example of the insurgents in Pennsylvania might become infectious; for the Democratic societies, spread all over the land, while they professed to oppose and deprecate violence, openly denounced the excise laws, and, no doubt, secretly fomented rebellion against the federal government. It was agreed in the cabinet council that forbearance must now end, and the effective power of the executive be put forth to suppress the rising rebellion. Accordingly, on the seventh of August, Washington issued a proclamation warning the insurgents to disperse, and declaring, that if tranquillity should not be restored in the disturbed counties before the first of September, an armed force would be employed to compel submission to the laws.[68] At the same time the president made a requisition on the governors of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, for militia sufficient to compose an army of twelve thousand men.

To the chief magistrate of the latter state, his friend and companion-in-arms, General Henry Lee, Washington wrote privately, from Germantown, on the twenty-sixth of August, and said, “It is with equal pride and satisfaction I add, that, as far as my information extends, this insurrection is viewed with universal indignation and abhorrence, except by those who have never missed an opportunity, by side-blows and otherwise, to attack the general government.... I consider this insurrection as the first formidable fruit of the Democratic societies, brought forth, I believe, too prematurely for their own views, which may contribute to the annihilation of them.

“That these societies were instituted by the artful and designing members (many of their body, I have no doubt, mean well, but know little of the real plan), primarily to sow among the people the seeds of jealousy and distrust of the government, by destroying all confidence in the administration of it, and that their doctrines have been budding and blowing ever since, is not new to any one who is acquainted with the character of their leaders and has been attentive to their manœuvres. I early gave it as my opinion, to the confidential characters around me, that if these societies were not counteracted (not by prosecutions, the ready way to make them grow stronger), or did not fall into disesteem from the knowledge of their origin, and the views with which they had been instituted by their father, Genet, for purposes well known to the government, they would shake the government to its foundation. Time and circumstances have confirmed me in this opinion, and I deeply regret the probable consequences; not as they will effect me personally—for I have not long to act on this theatre, and sure I am that not a man amongst them can be more anxious to put me aside than I am to sink into the profoundest retirement—but because I see, under a display of popular and fascinating disguises, the most diabolical attempts to destroy the best fabric of human government and happiness that has ever been presented for the acceptance of mankind.”

Washington's proclamation had very little effect in suppressing the lawless acts of the insurgents, and on the twenty-fifth of September he issued a second proclamation, in which he vividly described the perverse spirit in which the lenient propositions of the government had been met, and declared his determination to reduce the refractory and lawless men to obedience.[69]

The president now determined to act with vigor against the insurgents. He appointed Governor Lee, of Virginia, the commander-in-chief. General Mifflin, of Pennsylvania, was appointed his second in command. Governor Howell, of New Jersey, the third; and General Daniel Morgan, the veteran leader of the riflemen in the War for Independence, the fourth. General Hand, of Pennsylvania, was appointed adjutant-general.

From the best information that the president could obtain, it was supposed that there were in the rebellious counties about sixteen thousand men capable of bearing arms, and that at least seven thousand of them might be brought into the field. It was therefore resolved to employ a sufficient force at once to put down all opposition. The number of militia first called for was twelve thousand; it was subsequently increased to fifteen thousand. The place of rendezvous appointed for the New Jersey troops under Howell, and the Pennsylvanians under Mifflin, was Bedford, in Pennsylvania. Those from Virginia and Maryland—the former under General Morgan, and the latter under General Smith, the hero of Fort Mifflin in 1777, and now the Baltimore member of Congress—assembled at Cumberland, on the Potomac. The latter formed the left wing of the gathering army, and were directed to march across the mountains by Braddock's road. Those under Mifflin and Howell composed the right wing, and were ordered to cross the mountains by the more northern route, over which Forbes and his army crossed in 1758.

These martial preparations were made after every peaceful effort had been exhausted. As we have observed, the president had issued two proclamations before ordering the militia into the field. He had also, at the time of issuing the first proclamation, appointed three federal commissioners—Senator Ross, Mr. Bradford, the attorney-general, and Yates, a judge of the supreme court of Pennsylvania—to visit the insurgent counties, with discretionary powers to arrange, if possible, prior to the fourteenth of September, an effectual submission to the laws, offering lenient terms to the offenders. These were joined by Chief-Justice M'Kean and General Irvine, commissioners appointed by the state of Pennsylvania. At the same time, Governor Mifflin issued two proclamations—one calling the Pennsylvania legislature together; the other requiring submission on the part of the rioters, and announcing his determination to obey the president's call for militia.

These commissioners had crossed the mountains together, and at Parkinson's ferry they found representatives from almost every town of four insurgent counties, two hundred in number, assembled in convention, having Judge Cook, of Fayette county, for their president, and Albert Gallatin, afterward a distinguished officer of the federal government, for their secretary. The business was in charge of a vigilance committee of sixty. Near the place of meeting, which was upon a commanding eminence under the shade of trees, stood a liberty-pole, bearing a placard with the words, “Liberty and no excise! No asylum for cowards and traitors!”

The vigilance committee appointed a sub-committee of fifteen to confer with the state and federal commissioners. On that committee were, Bradford, the chief leader of the insurgents, Gallatin, Cook, Marshall, and Brackenridge, the latter a young and ambitious lawyer of Pittsburgh. All of these, except Bradford, perceiving the dangers with which they were surrounded, were favorable to submission. Bradford's voice was for war, and the organization of a separate and independent state west of the mountains. This committee declared the propositions of the commissioners to be reasonable, and to the town organizations the whole matter of submission was referred. These generally refused compliance. The federal commissioners returned to Philadelphia and reported the virtual failure of their mission. Then it was that the president issued his proclamation of the twenty-fifth of September, and prepared to use coercive measures.

Washington determined to lead the army in person against the insurgents, if it should appear to be expedient. He accordingly left Philadelphia at the beginning of October, accompanied by the secretary of war, whose department was left in charge of Hamilton, the secretary of the treasury. Just before he left, the president received a letter from the venerable Morgan, written at Winchester on the twenty-fourth of September. “I am sorry to understand,” wrote the brave old rifleman, “the difficulty experienced in the state of Pennsylvania to raise the quota of men to suppress that horrid insurrection on their frontiers.[70] The state of Virginia seems to be unanimous and determined to suppress it; and it is my opinion that we shall, in a very few days, have men enough to do that business. For my part, I wish I was at Morgantown at this time with two thousand men, which would be as many as I could ask, with what would join me at this place, to bring these people to order.... I wish an accommodation may not be patched up with these rioters, under an apprehension of not getting troops to suppress them. Virginia could, and would, furnish an army sufficient for that purpose.... I don't wish to spill the blood of a citizen; but I wish to march against these people, to show them our determination to bring them to order, and to support the laws. I took the liberty to write you this, lest your intelligence might not be so good, or that this might throw some light, or be of some service.”

This letter, from his old companion-in-arms, was only one of many of similar tone that Washington received at that time. Coming from such an esteemed veteran (with whom was the president's favorite nephew, Lawrence Lewis, as aid-de-camp), it was peculiarly grateful to Washington, and he responded in earnest tone, from Carlisle, on the eighth of October. “Although I regret the occasion,” he said, “which has called you into the field, I rejoice to hear you are there, and because it is probable I may meet you at Fort Cumberland, whither I shall proceed as soon as I see the troops at this rendezvous in condition to advance. At that place, or at Bedford, my ulterior resolution must be taken, either to advance with the troops into the insurgent counties of this state, or to return to Philadelphia, for the purpose of meeting Congress, the third of next month. Imperious circumstances alone can justify my absence from the seat of government whilst Congress is in session; but if these, from the disposition of the people in the refractory counties and the state of the information I expect to receive at the advanced posts, should appear to exist, the lesser must yield to the greater duties of my office, and I shall cross the mountains with the troops; if not, I shall place the command of the combined troops under the orders of Governor Lee, of Virginia, and repair to the seat of government.”

In a private letter to Randolph, the secretary of state, on the following day, the president said, “The insurgents are alarmed, but not yet brought to their proper senses. Every means is devised by themselves and their associates to induce a belief that there is no necessity for troops crossing the mountains; although we have information, at the same time, that part of the people there are obliged to embody themselves to repel the insults of another part.”

The Pennsylvania troops moved forward from Carlisle on the tenth of October, and Washington proceeded to Fort Cumberland, the place of rendezvous for the Maryland and Virginia troops, where he arrived on the sixteenth. Quite a large number were already there, and fifteen hundred more from Virginia were near at hand. There Washington received such information as convinced him that the spirits of the insurgents were broken, and that the greatest alarm prevailed in their ranks. He hastened on to Bedford, thirty miles distant, and there this intelligence was confirmed. Satisfied that his presence would be no longer needed with the army, he arranged a plan of operations against the insurgents, and prepared to return to Philadelphia; “but not,” he said in a letter to Randolph, “because the impertinence of Mr. Bache [editor of the “General Advertiser,” the opposition paper] or his correspondent has undertaken to pronounce that I can not constitutionally command the army whilst Congress are in session.”

The command of the army was left with Governor Lee. On the twentieth of October he received from Washington his instructions, drawn by Hamilton, with a letter from the president's own hand, in which he said, “I can not take my departure without conveying to you, through the army under your command, the very high sense I entertain of the enlightened and patriotic zeal for the constitution and the laws, which has led them cheerfully to quit their families, homes, and the comforts of private life, to undertake, and thus far to perform, a long and fatiguing march, and to encounter and endure the hardships and privations of a military life.... No citizens of the United States can ever be engaged in a service more important to their country. It is nothing less than to consolidate and to preserve the blessings of that Revolution which, at much expense of blood and treasure, constituted us a free and independent nation. It is to give the world an illustrious example, of the utmost consequence to the cause of mankind.” Then cautioning the troops against committing the least infraction of the laws, or trenching upon the functions of the civil authorities, he thanked them for the readiness with which they had seconded him “in the most delicate and momentous duty the chief magistrate of a free people can have to perform.”

Hamilton remained with the army as the president's civil representative; also the secretary of war; and Washington hastened back to Philadelphia, where he arrived on the twenty-sixth of October. The troops crossed the Alleghany mountains in a heavy rain, marching sometimes in mud up to their knees. The two wings formed a junction at Uniontown; and as they advanced into the insurgent country, all signs of rebellion disappeared. The leaders fled, and all upon whom rested the eye of suspicion quailed in its glance and hastened to make excuses. Early in November, Lee issued a proclamation, confirming an amnesty that had been offered to those entitled to it, and calling upon all of the inhabitants to take the oath of allegiance to the United States. Many arrests were soon afterward made. A large number were dismissed at once because of a want of evidence against them; others were bound over to keep the peace; and a few were sent to Philadelphia for trial.[71] Two only were convicted of capital offences—one of arson, the other of robbing the mails—and these, because of palliating circumstances, were finally pardoned by the president. Most of the troops were speedily withdrawn from the disaffected counties and dismissed; but a body of twenty-five hundred, under General Morgan, remained encamped in the district through the winter.

Thus terminated a rebellion, that at one time threatened the very existence of the Union, without the shedding of a drop of blood. This result was owing chiefly to the wisdom, prudence, energy, and personal popularity of Washington; and that which appeared so ominous of evil was overruled for the production of good. The government was amazingly strengthened by the event. The federal authority was fully vindicated; and the general rally in its support when the chief sounded his bugle-call, even of those who had hitherto leaned toward the opposition, was a significant omen of future stability and power. Every honest man expressed his reprobation of the violent resistance to law; and the democratic societies, the chief fomenters of the insurrection, showed symptoms of a desire to be less conspicuous. Hamilton, who had always distrusted the strength of the government in such an emergency, was now perfectly convinced of its inherent power; and both he and Washington regarded the affair as a fortunate circumstance for the nation.

In relation to this event and its effects, Washington, in a letter to Mr. Jay, written soon after his return to Philadelphia from the different rendezvous of the troops, said that the subject would be represented differently according to the wishes of some and the prejudices of others, who might exhibit it as an evidence of what had been predicted, namely, that the people of the new republic were unable to govern themselves. “Under this view of the subject,” he said, “I am happy in giving it to you as the general opinion that this event having happened at the time it did was fortunate, although it will be attended with considerable expense.

“That the self-created societies,” he continued, “which have spread themselves over this country have been laboring incessantly to sow the seeds of distrust, jealousy, and of course discontent, thereby hoping to effect some revolution in the government, is not unknown to you. That they have been the fomenters of the western disturbances, admits of no doubt in the mind of any one who will examine their conduct; but, fortunately, they precipitated a crisis for which they were not prepared, and thereby have unfolded views which will, I trust, effectuate their annihilation sooner than it might otherwise have happened; at the same time, that it has afforded an occasion for the people of this country to show their abhorrence of the result, and their attachment to the constitution and the laws; for I believe that five times the number of militia that was required would have come forward, if it had been necessary, in support of them.

“The spirit which blazed out on this occasion, as soon as the object was fully understood and the lenient measures of the government were made known to the people, deserves to be communicated. There are instances of general officers going at the head of a single troop, and of light companies; of field-officers, when they came to the places of rendezvous, and found no command for them in that grade, turning into the ranks, and proceeding as private soldiers, under their own captains; and of numbers, possessing the first fortunes in the country, standing in the ranks of private men, and marching day by day with their knapsacks and haversacks at their backs, sleeping on straw with a single blanket in a soldier's tent, during the frosty nights which we have had, by way of example to others. Nay, more; many young Quakers of the first families, character, and property, not discouraged by the elders, have turned into the ranks and are marching with the troops.

“These things have terrified the insurgents, who had no conception that such a spirit prevailed; but, while the thunder only rumbled at a distance, were boasting of their strength, and wishing for and threatening the militia by turns, intimating that the arms they should take from them would soon become a magazine in their hands. Their language is much changed indeed, but their principles want correction.

“I shall be more prolix in my speech to Congress on the commencement and progress of this insurrection than is usual in such an instrument, or than I should have been on any other occasion; but as numbers at home and abroad will hear of the insurrection, and will read the speech, that may know nothing of the documents to which it might refer, I conceived it would be better to encounter the charge of prolixity by giving a cursory detail of facts, that would show the prominent features of the thing, than to let it go naked into the world, to be dressed up according to the fancy or inclination of the readers, or the policy of our enemies.”[72]

FOOTNOTES:

[66]Page 216

[67]See page 216.

[68] The following is a copy of the proclamation. Its preamble contains such a complete summary of the causes which called forth the proclamation, that we give the document entire:—

“Whereas, combinations to defeat the execution of the laws laying duties upon spirits distilled within the United States, and upon stills, have, from the time of the commencement of those laws, existed in some of the western parts of Pennsylvania: and whereas, the said combinations, proceeding in a manner subversive equally of the just authority of government and of the rights of individuals, have hitherto effected their dangerous and criminal purpose by the influence of certain irregular meetings, whose proceedings have tended to encourage and uphold the spirit of opposition by misrepresentations of the laws calculated to render them odious; by endeavors to deter those who might be so disposed from accepting offices under them through fear of public resentments and of injury to person and property, and to compel those who had accepted such offices by actual violence to surrender or forbear the execution of them; by circulating vindictive measures against all who should otherwise, directly or indirectly, aid in the execution of the said laws, or who, yielding to the dictates of conscience and to a sense of obligation, should themselves comply therewith; by actually injuring and destroying the property of persons who were understood to have so complied; by inflicting cruel, humiliating punishments upon private citizens, for no other cause than that of appearing to be the friends of the laws; by interrupting the public officers on the highways, abusing, assaulting, and otherwise ill-treating them; by going to their houses in the night, gaining admittance by force, taking away their papers, and committing other outrages; employing for these unwarrantable purposes the agency of armed banditti, disguised in such a manner as for the most part to escape discovery: and whereas, the endeavors of the legislature to obviate objections to the said laws, by lowering the duties and by other alterations conducive to the convenience of those whom they immediately affected (though they have given satisfaction in other quarters), and the endeavors of the executive officers to conciliate a compliance with the laws, by expostulation, by forbearance, and even by recommendations founded on the suggestion of local considerations, have been disappointed of their effect by the machinations of persons whose industry to excite resistance has increased with the appearance of a disposition among the people to relax in their opposition and to acquiesce in the laws; insomuch that many persons in the said western parts of Pennsylvania have at length been hardy enough to perpetrate acts which I am advised amount to treason, being overt acts of levying war against the United States; the said persons having, on the sixteenth and seventeenth of July last, proceeded in arms (on the second day amounting to several hundred) to the house of John Neville, inspector of the revenues for the fourth survey of the districts of Pennsylvania—having repeatedly attacked the said house with the persons therein, wounding some of them; having seized David Lenox, marshal of the district of Pennsylvania, who previously thereto had been fired upon while in the execution of his duty by a party of men, detaining him for some time prisoner, till for the preservation of his life and obtaining of his liberty he found it necessary to enter into stipulations to forbear the execution of certain official duties, touching processes issuing out of the court of the United States; and having finally obliged the said inspector of the revenue and the marshal, from considerations of personal safety, to fly from this part of the country, in order, by a circuitous route, to proceed to the seat of government, avowing as the motives of these outrageous proceedings an intention to prevent by force of arms the execution of the said laws, to oblige the said inspector of the revenues to renounce his office, to withstand by open violence the lawful authority of the government of the United States, and to compel thereby an alteration in the measures of the legislature, and a repeal of the laws aforesaid: and whereas, by a law of the United States entitled, 'An act to provide for calling forth the militia to execute the laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and repel invasions,' it is enacted, 'that whenever the laws of the United States shall be opposed, or the execution thereof obstructed, in any state, by combinations too powerful to be suppressed by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings, or by the power vested in the marshals by that act, the same being notified by an associate justice or the district judges, it shall be lawful for the president of the United States to call forth the militia of said state to suppress such combinations, and to cause the laws to be duly executed. And if the militia of a state, where such combinations may happen, shall refuse or shall be insufficient to suppress the same, it shall be lawful for the president, if the legislature of the United States shall not be in session, to call forth and employ such numbers of the militia of any other state or states most convenient thereto as may be necessary; and the use of the militia so to be called forth may be continued, if necessary, until the expiration of thirty days after the commencement of the ensuing session; Provided always, that whenever it may be necessary in the judgment of the president to use the military force hereby directed to be called forth, the president shall forthwith, and previous thereto, by proclamation, command such insurgents to disperse, and retire peaceably to their respective abodes within a limited time:' and whereas, James Wilson, an associate justice, on the fourth instant, by writing under his hand, did, from evidence which had been laid before him, notify to me that 'in the counties of Washington and Alleghany, in Pennsylvania, the laws of the United States are opposed, and the execution thereof obstructed, by combinations too powerful to be suppressed by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings, or by the powers vested in the marshal of that district:'

“And whereas, it is in my judgment necessary, under the circumstances of the case, to take measures for calling forth the militia in order to suppress the combination aforesaid, and to cause the laws to be duly executed; and I have accordingly determined so to do, feeling the deepest regret for the occasion, but withal the most solemn conviction that the essential interests of the Union demand it, that the very existence of government and the fundamental principles of social order are materially involved in the issue, and that the patriotism and firmness of all good citizens are seriously called upon as occasion may require, to aid in the effectual suppression of so fatal a spirit:

“Wherefore, and in pursuance of the provision above recited, I, George Washington, president of the United States, do hereby command all persons, being insurgents as aforesaid, and all others whom it may concern, on or before the first day of September next, to disperse and return peaceably to their respective abodes. And I do moreover warn all persons whomsoever against aiding, abetting, or comforting, the perpetrators of the aforesaid treasonable acts; and do require all officers, and other citizens, according to their respective duties and the law of the land, to exert their utmost endeavors to prevent and suppress such dangerous proceedings.

“In testimony whereof, I have caused the seal of the United States of America to be affixed to these presents, and signed the same with my hand. Done at the city of Philadelphia, the seventh day of August, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-four, and of the independence of the United States of America the nineteenth. George Washington'”

[69] The following is a copy of the second proclamation:—

“Whereas, from a hope that the combination against the constitution and laws of the United States, in certain of the western counties of Pennsylvania, would yield to time and reflection, I thought it sufficient, in the first instance, rather to take measures for calling forth the militia than immediately to embody them; but the moment is now come when the overtures of forgiveness, with no other condition than a submission to law, have been only partially accepted; when every form of conciliation not inconsistent with the being of government has been adopted without effect; when the well-disposed in those counties are unable by their influence and example to reclaim the wicked from their fury, and are compelled to associate in their own defence; when the proffered lenity has been perversely misinterpreted into an apprehension that the citizens will march with reluctance; when the opportunity of examining the serious consequences of a treasonable opposition has been employed in propagating principles of anarchy, endeavoring through emissaries to alienate the friends of order from its support, and inviting its enemies to perpetrate similar acts of insurrection; when it is manifest that violence would continue to be exercised upon every attempt to enforce the laws; when, therefore, government is set at defiance, the contest being whether a small portion of the United States shall dictate to the whole Union, and, at the expense of those who desire peace, indulge a desperate ambition:

“Now, therefore, I, George Washington, president of the United States, in obedience to that high and irresistible duty consigned to me by the constitution 'to take care that the laws be faithfully executed,' deploring that the American name should be sullied by the outrages of citizens on their own government, commiserating such as remain obstinate from delusion, but resolved, in perfect reliance on that gracious Providence which so signally displays its goodness toward this country, to reduce the refractory to a due subordination to the laws, do hereby declare and make known, with a satisfaction which can be equalled only by the merits of the militia summoned into service from the states of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, that I have received intelligence of their patriotic alacrity in obeying the call of the present, though painful, yet commanding necessity; that a force, which according to every reasonable expectation is adequate to the exigency, is already in motion to the scene of disaffection; that those who shall have confided or shall confide in the protection of government shall meet full succor under the standard and from the arms of the United States; that those who, having offended against the laws, have since entitled themselves to indemnity, will be treated with the most liberal good faith, if they shall not have forfeited their claim by any subsequent conduct, and that instructions are given accordingly.

“And I do moreover exhort all individuals, officers, and bodies of men, to contemplate with abhorrence the measures leading, directly or indirectly, to those crimes which produce this resort to military coercion; to check, in their respective spheres, the efforts of misguided or designing men to substitute their misrepresentation in the place of truth, and their discontents in the place of stable government; and to call to mind, that as the people of the United States have been permitted, under the Divine favor, in perfect freedom, after solemn deliberation, and in an enlightened age, to elect their own government, so will their gratitude for this inestimable blessing be best distinguished by firm exertion to maintain the constitution and the laws.

“And, lastly, I again warn all persons whomsoever and wheresoever, not to abet, aid or comfort the insurgents aforesaid, as they will answer the contrary at their peril; and I do also require all officers and other citizens, as far as may be in their power, to bring under the cognizance of the laws all offenders in the premises.

“In testimony whereof, I have caused the seal of the United States of America to be affixed to these presents, and signed the same with my hand. Done at the city of Philadelphia, the twenty-fifth day of September, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-four, and of the independence of the United States of America the nineteenth. George Washington.”

[70] When the use of military force was first suggested, Randolph, the secretary of state, expressed his fears that such a measure would bring on a general collision that might destroy the Union. Governor Mifflin partook of this fear. “The Pennsylvanians,” says Hildreth, “at first, were rather backward, and a draft ordered by Mifflin seemed likely—by reason, it was said, of defects in the militia laws—to prove a failure. But the legislature, on coming together, having first denounced the insurgents in strong terms, to save the delays attendant on drafting, authorized the government to accept volunteers, to whom a bounty was offered. As if to make up for his former hesitation, and with a military sensibility to the disgrace of failing to meet the requisition, Mifflin, in a tour through the lower counties, as in several cases during the Revolutionary struggle, by the influence of his extraordinary popular eloquence, soon caused the ranks to be filled up. As a further stimulus, subscriptions were opened to support the wives and children of the volunteers during their absence,” —History of the United States, second series, i, 570.

[71] Among these was Herman Husbands, then a very old man, who had figured conspicuously in the revolutionary movement in North Carolina, previous to the War for Independence, known as the Regulator war. He was arrested on suspicion of being an active fomenter of the insurrection. This, however, seems not to have been the case, “I know that his sentiments were always in favor of the excise law,” wrote a friend of Husbands to the president, “and that he did all that he could to prevent the people of the western counties from opposing the execution of the law; and I know he is a good friend of liberty and his country.” Husbands was released, at about the first of January, 1795.

[72] Washington was so impressed with the sense of danger to be apprehended by the Democratic Societies, that he contemplated making them a topic in his forthcoming annual message to Congress. In a letter to the secretary of state, written at Fort Cumberland on the sixteenth of October, he said, “My mind is so perfectly convinced, that if these self-created societies can not be discontinued they will destroy the government of this country, that I have asked myself, while I have been revolving on the expense and inconvenience of drawing so many men from their families and occupations as I have seen on their march, where would be the impropriety of glancing at them in my speech, by some such idea as the following: 'That, however distressing this expedition will have proved to individuals, and expensive to the country, the pleasing spirit which it has drawn forth in support of law and government will immortalize the American character, and is a happy presage that future attempts, of a certain description of people, to disturb the public tranquillity will prove equally abortive.'"

Mr. Randolph, though a democrat, was favorable to some such expression of sentiment regarding these societies. In a letter, to which the president's was a response, he had intimated the propriety of taking advantage of the prevailing reprobation of the insurrection, to put down those societies. “They may now, I believe, be crushed,” he said. “The prospect ought not to be lost.” Washington did allude to them in his annual message, as we shall observe presently.

CHAPTER XXVII.

TOP

meeting of congress—washington's message—his views of the whiskey insurrection—denunciation of the democratic societies—debates in congress on the subject—weakness of the opposition—jefferson's angry letter to madison—decline of the democratic societies—wayne's success—end of the indian war—hamilton and knox retire from office—correspondence between them and washington—their successors—close of the third congress—a national university proposed—washington's views—his disposition of navigation companies' shares.

The members of Congress came tardily to the federal capital in the autumn of 1794; and it was not until the nineteenth of November, sixteen days after the time appointed for the commencement of the session, that they were ready to listen to the president's sixth annual message. As he had intimated to Mr. Jay that he should, Washington, in that message, dwelt at considerable length on the subject of the late insurrection, taking a complete outline survey of all the facts and circumstances, and drawing conclusions therefrom.

“While there is cause to lament,” he said, “that occurrences of this nature should have disgraced the name, or interrupted the tranquillity, of any part of our community, or should have diverted to a new application any portion of the public resources, there are not wanting real and substantial consolations for the misfortune. It has demonstrated that our prosperity rests on solid foundations, by furnishing an additional proof that my fellow-citizens understand the true principles of government and liberty; that they feel their inseparable union; that, notwithstanding all the devices which have been used to sway them from their interest and duty, they are now as ready to maintain the authority of the laws against licentious invasions, as they were to defend their rights against usurpation. It has been a spectacle displaying to the highest advantage the value of republican government, to behold the most and the least wealthy of our citizens standing in the same ranks as private soldiers, pre-eminently distinguished by being the army of the constitution—undeterred by a march of three hundred miles over rugged mountains, by the approach of an inclement season, or by any other discouragement. Nor ought I to omit to acknowledge the efficacious and patriotic co-operations which I have experienced from the chief magistrates of the states to which my requisitions have been addressed.

“To every description of citizens, indeed, let praise be given. But let them persevere in their affectionate vigilance over that precious depository of American happiness, the constitution of the United States. Let them cherish it, too, for the sake of those who, from every clime, are daily seeking a dwelling in our land. And when, in the calm moments of reflection, they shall have traced the origin and progress of the insurrection, let them determine whether it has not been fomented by combinations of men, who, careless of consequences, and disregarding the unerring truth that those who rouse can not always appease a civil convulsion, have disseminated, from an ignorance or perversion of facts, suspicions, jealousies, and accusations of the whole government.”

The boldness of Washington was conspicuous in thus officially denouncing the Democratic Societies, because he well knew that his words of severe reprobation would arouse their hottest resentment. But, conscious of his own integrity, and well assured of the support of all good men, he hesitated not a moment. Some democratic members of the senate, the most prominent of whom were Burr and Jackson, showed great ill feeling; but the majority in that body gave it their approval. In the lower house it created a good deal of angry altercation, for the opposition were powerful there. They exhibited their disapprobation on the first draft of their answer to the president's message, by passing the matter over in silence. To this draft an amendment was offered, reprobating the “self-created societies,” which, “by deceiving and inflaming the ignorant and weak, may naturally be supposed to have stimulated the insurrection.” It then denounced them as “institutions not strictly unlawful, yet not less fatal to good order and true liberty, and reprehensible in the degree that our system of government approaches to perfect political freedom.”

It was this amendment that caused the debate. Those who opposed it did so cautiously, and exhibited their sense of the waning popularity of these societies, by taking care to disclaim their own personal connection with them. It was contended that the term “self-created societies” involved all voluntary associations whatever; that the right of censure was sacred; and that the societies would retort. Others contended that the question was not, whether the societies were legal, but whether they were mischievous. If they were so, the representatives of the people, presumed to be the guardians of the republic, ought to declare it, and not, by silence, give an implied contradiction to the president's statements.

A motion to strike out the words “self-constituted societies” elicited a warm debate. “It has been argued,” said one of the members (Sedgwick) who traced the origin of these societies to Genet, “that to censure them might be construed into an attack on the freedom of public discussion. He was sorry,” he said, “to see a disposition to confound freedom and licentiousness. Was there not an obvious distinction between a cool, dispassionate, honest, and candid discussion, and a false, wicked, seditious misrepresentation of public men and public measures? The former was within the province of freemen; it was, indeed, their duty; the latter was inconsistent with moral rectitude, and tended to the destruction of freedom and to the production of every evil that could afflict a community.” The speaker then described the Democratic Societies as “self-created, without delegation or control, not emanating from the people, or responsible to them; not open in their deliberations; not admitting any but those of their own political opinions; permanent in their constitution, and of unlimited duration.” These, he said, “modestly assumed the character of popular instructors, guardians of the people, guardians of the government. Every man in the administration who had assented to its acts they had loaded with every species of calumny—slanders—which they knew to be such. They had not even spared that character supposed to have been clothed with inviolability—not the paltry inviolability of constitutional proscription, but an inviolability infinitely more respectable, founded on the public gratitude, and resulting from disinterested and invaluable services.”

The motion upon which this debate arose was finally carried in committee of the whole, but by a very small majority. The struggle was renewed when it was reported to the house. Finally, a compromise was effected by inserting in the address a declaration of great concern on the part of the house, “that any misrepresentations whatever of the government and its proceedings, either by individuals or combinations of men, should have been made, and so far have been credited as to foment the flagrant outrage which had been committed on the laws.”

It was very evident, from the debates and the votes on this and other questions brought up by the president's message, that the government was growing stronger, and the opposition in Congress weaker. Jefferson, the father of the opposition, who had declared that his retiracy from the political world should be profound, was alarmed at these manifestations of the declining strength of his party, and he was moved to let his voice be heard once more. On the twenty-eighth of December he wrote to Madison, the republican leader in the lower house, an angry letter concerning the president's remarks about the “self-created societies,” saying:—

“The denunciation of the Democratic Societies is one of the extraordinary acts of boldness of which we have seen so many from the faction of monocrats. It is wonderful indeed that the president should have permitted himself to be the organ of such an attack on the freedom of discussion, the freedom of writing, printing, and publishing.” After making an ungenerous attack upon the Society of the Cincinnati, he proceeded: “I here put out of sight the persons whose misbehavior has been taken advantage of to slander the friends of popular rights; and I am happy to observe that, as far as the circle of my observation and information extends, everybody has lost sight of them, and views the abstract attempt on their natural and constitutional rights in all its nakedness. I have never heard, or heard of, a single expression or opinion which did not condemn it as an inexcusable aggression.”

Then, in full sympathy with the whiskey insurrectionists, he said: “And with respect to the transactions against the excise law, it appears to me that you are all swept away in the torrent of governmental opinions, or that we do not know what these transactions have been. We know of none which, according to the definitions of the law, have been anything more than riotous. There was, indeed, a meeting to consult about a separation. But to consult on a question does not amount to a determination of that question in the affirmative, still less to the acting on such a determination; but we shall see, I suppose, what the court lawyers, and courtly judges, and would-be embassadors will make of it. The excise law is an infernal one. The first error was to admit it by the constitution; the second, to act on that admission; the third and last will be, to make it the instrument of dismembering the Union, and setting us all afloat to choose what part of it we will adhere to. The information of our militia returned from the westward is uniform, that though the people there let them pass quietly, they were objects of their laughter, not of their fear; that one thousand men could have cut off their whole force in a thousand places of the Alleghany; that their detestation of the excise law is universal, and has now associated to it a detestation of the government; and that separation, which perhaps was a very distant and problematical event, is now near, and certain, and determined in the mind of every man. I expected to have seen some justification of arming one part of society against another; of declaring a civil war the moment before the meeting of that body which has the sole right of declaring war; of being so patient of the kicks and scoffs of our enemies, and rising at a feather against our friends; of adding a million to the public debt, and deriding us with recommendations to pay it if we can.”

But the medicines of most powerful friends could not cure the mortal malady that now afflicted the Democratic Societies. As it happened with Genet, their founder, so it now happened with these societies; the great mass of the people had learned to reprobate them. The denunciations of the president, co-operating with the downfall of the Jacobin clubs in France—kindred societies—soon produced their dissolution. Monroe, in an official despatch, had set in its true light the character of the Jacobin clubs, as interfering with the government; and in the United States, their confréres, the Democratic societies, soon sank into merited obscurity.

In his message, Washington announced that “the intelligence from the army under the command of General Wayne was a happy presage to military operations against the hostile Indians north of the Ohio.” Wayne, as we have seen, had succeeded St. Clair after that veteran's unfortunate defeat in the autumn of 1791. He marched into the Indian country in 1793, and near the spot where St. Clair was surprised he built Fort Recovery. There he was attacked by the Indians at the close of June, 1794, but without receiving much damage. General Scott arrived there not long afterward from Kentucky, with eleven hundred volunteers, and then Wayne advanced to the confluence of the Maumee and Au Glaize rivers, “the grand emporium,” as he called it, of the Indians. They fled precipitately; and there Wayne built a strong stockade, for the permanent occupation of that beautiful country, and called it Fort Defiance.

The main body of the Indians had retired down the Maumee about thirty miles, where they took a hostile attitude. With about three thousand men, Wayne marched against them, and near the present Maumee City he fought and defeated them, on the twentieth of August. He then laid waste their country, and the trading establishment of the British agent in their midst was burned. There seemed little doubt that he had stirred up the savages against the Americans.

Wayne fell back to Fort Defiance three days after the battle; and at the beginning of November, after a successful campaign of three months, during which time he had marched three hundred miles along a road cut by his own army, gained an important victory, driven the Indians from their principal settlement, and left a strong post in the heart of their country, he placed his army into winter-quarters at Greenville. The western tribes were humbled and disheartened; and early in August, the following year, their principal chiefs and United States' commissioners met at Greenville and made a treaty of peace. The Indians ceded to the United States a large tract of land in the present states of Michigan and Indiana, and for more than ten years afterward the government had very little trouble with the western savages.

In his message, Washington urged the adoption of some definite plan for the redemption of the public debt. “Nothing,” he said, “can more promote the permanent welfare of the nation, and nothing would be more grateful to our constituents.” At his request, Hamilton, the secretary of the treasury, prepared a plan, digested and arranged on the basis of the actual revenues for the further support of the public credit. It was one of the ablest state papers of the many that had proceeded from his pen during his official career. It was reported on the twentieth of January, 1795, and this was Hamilton's last official act. He had, on the first of December, immediately after his return from western Pennsylvania, addressed the following letter to the president:—

“I have the honor to inform you that I have fixed upon the last of January next, as the day for my resignation of my office of secretary of the treasury. I make this communication now, that there may be time to mature such an arrangement as shall appear to you proper to meet the vacancy when it occurs.”

Mr. Hamilton resigned his office on the thirty-first of January. It was with deep regret, as in the case of Mr. Jefferson, that Washington found himself deprived of the services of so able an officer. “After so long an experience of your public services,” he said in a note to Hamilton on the second of February, “I am naturally led, at this moment of your departure from office (which it has always been my wish to prevent), to review them. In every relation which you have borne to me, I have found that my confidence in your talents, exertions, and integrity, has been well placed. I the more freely render this testimony of my approbation, because I speak from opportunities of information which can not deceive me, and which furnish satisfactory proof of your title to public regard.”

1795

To this Hamilton replied on the following day, saying, “My particular acknowledgments are due for your very kind letter of yesterday. As often as I may recall the vexations I have endured, your approbation will be a great and precious consolation. It was not without a struggle that I yielded to the very urgent motives which compelled me to relinquish a station in which I could hope to be, in any degree, instrumental in promoting the success of an administration under your direction; a struggle which would have been far greater had I supposed that the prospect of future usefulness was proportioned to the sacrifices made.”

Justice to a growing family was the chief cause of Hamilton's resignation. “The penurious provision made for those who filled the high executive departments in the American government,” says Marshall, “excluded from a long continuance in office all those whose fortunes were moderate, and whose professional talents placed a decent independence within their reach. While slandered as the accumulator of thousands by illicit means, Colonel Hamilton had wasted in the public service great part of the property acquired by his previous labors, and had found himself compelled to decide on retiring from his political station.”[73]

Oliver Wolcott, of Connecticut, who had been the federal comptroller under Hamilton for some time, was appointed to succeed that officer; and General Knox, who had offered his resignation as secretary of war at the close of the year, was succeeded by Timothy Pickering, who was at that time the postmaster-general. “After having served my country nearly twenty years,” wrote Knox in his letter tendering his resignation on the twenty-eighth of December, “the greatest portion of which under your immediate auspices, it is with extreme reluctance that I find myself constrained to withdraw from so honorable a station. But the natural and powerful claims of a numerous family will no longer permit me to neglect their essential interests. In whatever situation I shall be, I shall recollect your confidence and kindness with all the fervor and purity of affection of which a grateful heart is susceptible.”

Washington always loved Knox. His frankness and good nature, his eminent integrity and unswerving faithfulness in every period of his public career, endeared him to the president; and it was with sincere sorrow that he experienced the official separation. “The considerations which you have often suggested to me,” Washington wrote in reply to Knox, “and which are repeated in your letter as requiring your departure from your present office, are such as to preclude the possibility of my urging your continuance in it. This being the case, I can only wish it was otherwise. I can not suffer you, however, to close your public service without uniting with the satisfaction which must arise in your own mind from a conscious rectitude, my most perfect persuasion that you have deserved well of your country. My personal knowledge of your exertions, whilst it authorizes me to hold this language, justifies the sincere friendship which I have ever borne for you, and which will accompany you in every situation in life.”

The last session of the third Congress closed on the third of March, 1795. For a little while, Washington's mind was relieved in a degree from the pressure of political duties, and a matter of different but interesting nature occupied it at times. It will be remembered that the legislature of Virginia presented to Washington, as a testimony of their gratitude for his public services, fifty shares in the Potomac company, and one hundred shares in the James River company—corporations created for promoting internal navigation in Virginia—and that he accepted them with the understanding that he should not use them for his own private benefit, but apply them to some public purpose.

An opportunity for such application, that commended itself to Washington's judgment, had not occurred until this time, when a plan for the establishment of a university at the federal capital, on the Potomac, was talked of. “It has always been a source of serious reflection and sincere regret with me,” he said in a letter to the commissioners of the federal city on the twenty-eighth of January, “that the youth of the United States should be sent to foreign countries for the purpose of education. Although there are doubtless many, under these circumstances, who escape the danger of contracting principles unfavorable to republican government, yet we ought to deprecate the hazard attending ardent and susceptible minds from being too strongly and too early prepossessed in favor of other political systems, before they are capable of appreciating their own.

“For this reason, I have greatly wished to see a plan adopted, by which the arts, sciences, and belles-lettres, could be taught in their fullest extent, thereby embracing all the advantages of European tuition, with the means of acquiring the liberal knowledge which is necessary to qualify our citizens for the exigencies of public as well as private life; and (which with me is a consideration of great magnitude) by assembling the youths from the different parts of this republic, contributing, from their intercourse and interchange of information, to the removal of prejudices, which might, perhaps, sometimes arise from local circumstances.”

Washington then suggested the federal city as the most eligible place for such an institution; at the same time offering, in the event of the university being established upon a scale as extensive as he described, and the execution of it being commenced under favorable auspices in a reasonable time, to “grant in perpetuity fifty shares in the navigation of the Potomac river towards the endowment of it.”

About four weeks after this, Washington received a letter from Mr. Jefferson, on the subject that had a bearing upon the disposition of his shares, the former having on some occasion asked the advice of the latter concerning the appropriation of them. Mr. Jefferson now informed Washington that the college at Geneva, in Switzerland, had been destroyed, and that Mr. D'Ivernois, a Genevan scholar who had written a history of his country, had proposed the transplanting of that college to America. It was proposed to have the professors of the college come over in a body, it being asserted that most of them spoke the English language well.

Jefferson was favorable to the establishment of the proposed new college within the state of Virginia; but Washington, with practical sagacity, concluded that it would not be wise to have two similar institutions. He preferred having one excellent institution, and that at the federal capital, and gave his reasons at length for his opinion, at the same time adding—after stating to Mr. Jefferson the fact that he had offered the fifty shares of the Potomac company to the commissioners—“My judgment and my wishes point equally strong to the application of the James River shares [one hundred] to the same object at the same place; but, considering the source from whence they were derived, I have, in a letter I am writing to the executive of Virginia on this subject, left the application of them to a seminary within the state, to be located by the legislature.”

In his letter to Governor Brooke, above referred to, Washington said: “The time is come when a plan of universal education ought to be adopted in the United States. Not only do the exigencies of public life demand it, but, if it should be apprehended that prejudice would be entertained in one part of the Union against another, an efficacious remedy will be to assemble the youth from every part, under such circumstances as will, by the freedom of intercourse and collision of sentiment, give to their minds the direction of truth, philanthropy, and mutual conciliation.” He then expressed his preference of the proposed university at the federal capital, as the object of his appropriation, but left the matter at the disposal of the legislature. That body, in resolutions, approved of his appropriation of the fifty shares in the Potomac company to the proposed university, and requested him to appropriate the hundred shares in the James River company “to a seminary at such place in the upper country, as he may deem most convenient to a majority of the inhabitants thereof.”[74]

FOOTNOTES:

[73] Life of Washington, ii, 356

[74] See page 48 of this volume.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

TOP

jay's mission to england—its specific objects—his arrival in london—his judicious conduct there—difficulties in the way of negotiation—jay's encouraging letter to washington—his letter to the secretary of state—the provisions of the treaty—its reception by washington—he keeps its provisions secret—opposition to the treaty—meeting of the senate—the treaty discussed and its ratification recommended—a synopsis of its contents made public.

Mr. Jay's mission to England had been from its inception a cause of much anxiety to Washington. Its object was beneficent and patriotic in the highest degree, and yet it had been opposed with the bitterest party spirit, and regarded with distrust even by friends of the administration, who had watched the ungenerous and despotic course of the British government toward the United States ever since the peace of 1783.

Mr. Jay's instructions contemplated three important objects to be obtained by treaty. These were, compensation for the losses sustained by American merchants in consequence of the orders in council; a settlement of all existing disputes in relation to the treaty of peace; and a commercial treaty. Great discretion was to be given to the envoy. He was to consider his instructions as recommendatory, not as peremptory. Only two restrictions were imposed upon him. One was, not to enter into any stipulation inconsistent with the existing engagements of the United States with France; the other was, not to conclude any commercial treaty that did not secure to the United States a direct trade in their own vessels, of certain defined burdens, with the British West India islands, in whatever articles were at present allowed to be carried in British bottoms.

Mr. Jay was fully impressed with the importance of his mission and the necessity of prompt action. He arrived at Falmouth on the evening of the eighth of June, and the same night he forwarded a letter to Lord Grenville, the secretary for foreign affairs, announcing his arrival. He reached London a few days afterward, took lodgings at the Royal Hotel, Pall Mall, and on the fifteenth addressed the following note to Lord Grenville:—

“My Lord: You have doubtless received a letter which I had the honor of writing to you from Falmouth. I arrived here this morning. The journey has given me some health and much pleasure, nothing having occurred on the road to induce me to make it shorter.

“Colonel Trumbull does me the favor to accompany me as secretary; and I have brought with me a son, whom I am anxious should form a right estimate of whatever may be interesting to our country. Will you be so obliging, my lord, as to permit me to present them to you, and to inform me of the time when it will be most agreeable to your lordship that I should wait upon you, and assure you of the respect with which I have the honor to be, &c.”

Mr. Jay's appearance in London was at a time when all Europe was in a state of the most feverish excitement. Robespierre and his bloody companions were revelling in all the wantonness of irresponsible power. The Reign of Terror was at its height, and the resentment against France by all true friends of freedom in Europe, and especially the British nation, was hot and uncompromising. England, supported by Russia, Austria, and Spain, was waging war against the revolutionists; and at the moment of Jay's arrival, the nation was madly rejoicing because of a splendid victory obtained by Lord Howe over the French fleet. The fact that a large party in the United States warmly sympathized with France, the late proceedings of Congress manifesting a disposition hostile to Great Britain, and the remaining soreness of wounded pride experienced by England in the loss of her colonies, combined with the stirring events then occurring in Europe, made the moment apparently inauspicious for a mission like that of Mr. Jay. It required, on the part of the minister, the exercise of the most discreet courtesy.

The views entertained by the two nations as to their rights and interests were so opposed, on several points, that reconciliation appeared almost impossible. The Americans complained that, contrary to express provisions of the treaty of 1783, a large number of negroes had been carried away by the evacuating British armies at the South, and for the losses thereby sustained by the owners compensation was demanded. The British contended that the claim in the treaty referred to did not apply to negroes who had been set at liberty in the course of the war, under proclamations of the British commanders; and as those carried away were all of that kind, no compensation should be allowed.

The Americans also complained of the continued occupancy of the western posts by British garrisons, and attributed the protracted hostility of the Indian tribes, to the influence of the British commanders there. They also alleged numerous invasions of their neutral rights, not only under the orders in council, issued as instructions to the commanders of British cruisers, but in the seizure of many vessels without sufficient warrant, and their condemnation by the local admiralty courts. They also complained of the impressment into the British service of seamen from on board American vessels, and the exclusion of American shipping from the trade to the British West Indies.

The British were unwilling to relinquish their right of impressment, as a means of manning their fleets at that important crisis; and they regarded the claim of the Americans to an equal participation in the West India trade as unreasonable, because it would require England to renounce the long-settled principles of her commercial system. The most important questions to be settled, and those which involved matters most dangerous to the peace between the two countries, were those of neutral rights and the occupancy of the western posts. Such in brief were the chief points in the controversy to be settled by treaty.

“By a deportment respectful yet firm,” says Marshall, “mingling a decent deference for the government to which he was deputed, with a proper regard for the dignity of his own, this minister avoided those little asperities which frequently embarrass measures of great concern, and smoothed the way to the adoption of those which were suggested by the real interests of both nations.”[75]

Mr. Jay found Lord Grenville commissioned by the king to treat with him, and the sincerity and candor of each soon led to the highest degree of mutual confidence. “Instead of adopting the usual wary but tedious mode of reducing every proposition to writing,” says Mr. Jay's biographer,[76] “they conducted the negotiation chiefly by conferences, in which the parties frankly stated their several views, and suggested the way in which the objections to these views might be obviated. It was understood that neither party was to be committed by what passed in these conversations, but that the propositions made in them might be recalled or modified at pleasure. In this manner the two ministers speedily discovered on what points they could agree, where their views were irreconcilable, and on what principles a compromise might be effected.”

While at Fort Cumberland, in October, Washington received a most gratifying letter from Mr. Jay, accompanied by despatches from Mr. Randolph, the secretary of state. They came by the Packet William Penn. Mr. Jay's letter was dated the fifth of August. Concerning the business of his mission he wrote as follows:—

“I am this moment returned from a long conference with Lord Grenville. Our prospects become more and more promising as we advance in the business. The compensation cases (as described in the answer) and the amount of damages will, I have reason to hope, be referred to the decision of commissioners, mutually to be appointed by the two governments, and the money paid without delay on their certificates, and the business closed as speedily as may be possible. The question of admitting our vessels into the islands under certain limitations is under consideration, and will soon be decided. A treaty of commerce is on the carpet. All things being agreed, the posts will be included. They contend that the article about the negroes does not extend to those who came in on their proclamations, to whom (being vested with the property in them by the right of war) they gave freedom, but only to those who were, bona fide, the property of Americans when the war ceased. They will, I think, insist that British debts, so far as injured by lawful impediments, should be repaired by the United States by decision of mutual commissioners. These things have passed in conversation, but no commitments on either side, and not to have any official weight or use whatever.

“The king observed to me, the other day, 'Well, sir, I imagine you begin to see that your mission will probably be successful.'—'I am happy, may it please your majesty, to find that you entertain that idea.'—'Well, but don't you perceive that it is like to be so?'—'There are some recent circumstances (the answer to my representation, etc.) which induce me to flatter myself that it will be so.' He nodded with a smile, signifying that it was to those circumstances that he alluded. The conversation then turned to indifferent topics. This was at the drawing-room.

“I have never been more unceasingly employed than I have been for some time past and still am; I hope for good, but God only knows. The William Penn sails in the morning. I write these few lines in haste, to let you see that the business is going on as fast as can reasonably be expected, and that it is very important that peace and quiet should be preserved for the present. On hearing last night that one of our Indiamen had been carried into Halifax, I mentioned it to Lord Grenville. He will write immediately by the packet on the subject. Indeed, I believe they are endeavoring to restore a proper conduct toward us everywhere; but it will take some time before the effects will be visible. I write all this to you in confidence, and for your own private satisfaction. I have not time to explain my reasons, but they are cogent. I could fill some sheets with interesting communications if I had leisure, but other matters press, and must not be postponed; for 'there is a tide in the affairs of men,' of which every moment is precious. Whatever may be the issue, nothing in my power to insure success shall be neglected or delayed.”[77]

To Mr. Randolph he wrote: “I shall persevere in my endeavors to acquire the confidence and esteem of this government—not by improper compliances, but by that sincerity, candor, truth, and prudence, which, in my opinion, will always prove to be more wise and more effectual than finesse and chicane. Formal discussions of disputed points should, in my judgment, be postponed until the case becomes desperate; my present object is to accommodate, rather than to convert or convince. Men who sign their names to arguments seldom retract. If, however, my present plan should fail, I shall then prepare and present such formal, and at the same time such temperate and firm, representations as may be necessary to place the claims and conduct of the two governments in their proper point of view.”

A treaty was finally signed at London, on the nineteenth of November, 1794, by Mr. Jay and Lord Grenville, and submitted to their respective governments for ratification. It was defective in some parts and objectionable in others; but, as it was the best that could be obtained, Mr. Jay was induced to sign it.

In a private letter to Washington, written on the same day that he signed the treaty, Mr. Jay said, “To do more was impossible. I ought not to conceal from you,” he added, “that the confidence reposed in your personal character was visible and useful throughout the negotiation.” To the secretary of state he wrote:—

“The long-expected treaty accompanies this letter. The difficulties which retarded its accomplishment frequently had the appearance of being insurmountable. They have at last yielded to modifications of the articles in which they existed, and to that mutual disposition to agreement which reconciled Lord Grenville and myself to an unusual degree of trouble and application. They who have levelled uneven ground know how little of the work afterward appears.

“Since the building is finished, it can not be very important to describe the scaffolding, nor to go into all the details which respected the business. My opinion of the treaty is apparent from my having signed it. I have no reason to believe or conjecture that one more favorable to us is attainable.”

This treaty provided for the establishment of three boards of commissioners; one to determine the eastern boundary of the United States, by deciding which was the river St. Croix named in the treaty of peace in 1783; another to ascertain the amount of losses which British subjects had experienced in consequence of legal impediments to the recovery of debts due them by citizens of the United States, contracted before the Revolution—such amount, on their report being made, to be paid by the government of the United States; and a third to estimate the losses sustained by American citizens in consequence of irregular and illegal captures by British cruisers, for which the sufferers had no adequate remedy in suits of law—such losses to be paid by the British government.

It was provided that the western posts should be given up to the United States on the first of June, 1796, in consideration of the adjustment of the ante-revolutionary debts, the then residents in their respective neighborhoods having the option of remaining, or of becoming American citizens. The important Indian traffic in the interior was left open to both nations, by a mutual reciprocity of inland trade and free intercourse between the North American territories of the two nations, including the navigation of the Mississippi. The British were to be allowed to enter all American harbors, with the right to ascend all rivers to the highest port of entry. This reciprocity did not extend to the possessions of the Hudson's Bay company, nor to the admission of American vessels into the harbors of the British North American colonies, nor to the navigation of the rivers of those colonies below the highest port of entry.

It was stipulated that the subjects or citizens of one government, holding lands in the dominions of the other government, should continue to hold them without alienage; nor, in the event of war or other national differences, should there be any confiscation by either party of debts, or of public or private stocks, due to or held by the citizens or subjects of the other. In a word, there should be no disturbance of existing conditions of property; and merchants and traders on each side should enjoy the most complete protection and security for their property.

The foregoing is the material substance of the first ten articles of the treaty, which it was declared should be perpetual; the remaining eighteen, having reference chiefly to the regulation of commerce and navigation between the two countries, were limited in their operations to two years after the termination of the war in which Great Britain was then engaged.

The commercial portion of the treaty provided for the admission of American vessels into British ports in Europe and the East Indies, on terms of equality with British vessels. But participation in the East Indian coasting trade, and the trade between European and British East Indian ports, was left to rest on the contingency of British permission. The right was also reserved to the British to meet the existing discrimination in the American tonnage and import duties by countervailing measures. American vessels, not exceeding seventy tons burden, were to be allowed to trade to the British West Indies, but only on condition of a renunciation, during the continuance of the treaty, of the right to transport from America to Europe any of the principal colonial products. British vessels were to be admitted into American ports without any further addition to the existing discriminating duties, and on terms equal to the most favored nations.

It was also stipulated that privateers should give bonds, with security, to make equivalent restitution for any injury they might inflict upon neutrals, in the event of the condemnation of any prize. Other provisions, favorable to neutral property captured by privateers, were made; and it was determined that the list of contraband articles should include, besides ammunition and warlike implements, all articles serving directly for the equipment of vessels, except unwrought iron and fir-plank.

It was also provided that no vessel attempting to enter a blockaded port should be captured, unless previously notified of the blockade; that neither nation should allow enlistments within its territory by any third nation at war with the other; nor should the citizens or subjects of either be allowed to accept commissions from such third nation, or to enlist in its service—citizens or subjects acting contrary to this stipulation to be treated as pirates. Provision was also made for the exercise of hospitality and courtesy between ships-of-war and privateers of the two countries; also for prohibiting the arming of privateers of any nation at war with either of the contracting parties, or fitting them out in the ports of the other; and for excluding the privateers of a third nation from the ports of the contracting parties, which had made prizes of vessels belonging to citizens or subjects of either country. It was also agreed that neither nation should allow vessels or goods of the other to be captured in any of its bays or other waters, or within cannon-shot of its coast.

It was further stipulated, that in the event of war between the two nations, the citizens or subjects of each, residing within the limits of the other, should be allowed to continue peaceably in their respective employments, so long as they should behave themselves properly. It was also provided that fugitives from justice, charged with murder or forgery, should be mutually given up.

Such was the substance of the famous treaty, the ratification of which caused a tempest in the political atmosphere, whose fury shook the Union to its foundation, and proved to the utmost test the stability of the character and popularity of Washington.

Rumors of the conclusion of a treaty reached the Congress before its adjournment in March, 1795; but the treaty itself did not arrive until two days afterward. The president received it on the fifth of March, but its contents were kept a profound secret for several months. Washington studied it carefully, fully digested every article, and resolved to ratify it, should it be approved by the senate. Parts of it he approved, parts he disapproved; but he saw in it the basis for a satisfactory adjustment of the relations of the two governments, and a guaranty of peace.

The president issued a circular calling the senate together in June, for the purpose of considering the treaty. He resolved to keep its provisions a secret until that time, because there was a predisposition in the public mind to condemn it. Already, as we have seen, the appointment of a special envoy to negotiate with Great Britain had been denounced as a cowardly overture, and degrading to the United States; and it was declared that the mission of a special envoy, if one was to be sent, should be to make a formal and unequivocal demand of reparation for wrongs inflicted on our commerce, the payment of damages to owners of slaves carried away, and the immediate surrender of the western posts.

A large party in the United States had resolved that the treaty, whatever it might be, especially if it should remove all pretexts for a war with Great Britain, should be rejected; and, even before its arrival, preparations for opposition were made. In the course of a few days after Washington received it, and had submitted it, under the seal of strict privacy, to Mr. Randolph, the secretary of state, sufficient information concerning it leaked out to awaken public distrust, and yet not enough was known for the formation of any definite opinion concerning it. But instantly the opposition press commenced a crusade against it.

“Americans, awake!” cried a writer in one of these. “Remember what you suffered during a seven-years' war with the satellites of George the Third (and I hope the last). Recollect the services rendered by your allies, now contending for liberty. Blush to think that America should degrade herself so much as to enter into any kind of treaty with a power, now tottering on the brink of ruin, whose principles are directly contrary to the spirit of republicanism.

“The United States are a republic. Is it advantageous to a republic to have a connection with a monarch? Treaties lead to war, and war is the bane of a republican government. If the influence of a treaty is added to the influence which Great Britain has already in our government, we shall be colonized anew.

“Commercial treaties are an artificial means to obtain a natural end—they are the swathing bands of commerce that impede the free operations of nature. Treaties are like partnerships; they establish intimacies which sometimes end in profligacy, and sometimes in ruin and bankruptcy, distrust, strife, and quarrel.

“No treaty ought to have been made with Great Britain, for she is famed for perfidy and double dealing; her polar star is interest; artifice, with her, is a substitute for nature. To make a treaty with Great Britain is forming a connection with a monarch; and the introduction of the fashions, forms, and precedents of monarchical governments has ever accelerated the destruction of republics.

“If foreign connections are to be formed, they ought to be made with nations whose influence would not poison the fountain of liberty, and circulate the deleterious streams to the destruction of the rich harvest of our Revolution. France is our natural ally; she has a government congenial with our own. There can be no hazard of introducing from her, principles and practices repugnant to freedom. That gallant nation, whose proffers we have neglected, is the sheet-anchor that sustains our hopes; and should her glorious exertions be incompetent to the great object she has in view, we have little to flatter ourselves with from the faith, honor, or justice of Great Britain. The nation on whom our political existence depends, we have treated with indifference bordering on contempt. Citizens, your only security depends on France; and, by the conduct of your government, that security has become precarious.

“To enter into a treaty with Great Britain at the moment when we have evaded a treaty with France; to treat with an enemy against whom France feels an implacable hatred, an enemy who has neglected no means to desolate that country and crimson it with blood, is certainly insult. Citizens of America, sovereigns of a free country, your hostility to the French republic has been spoken of in the National Convention, and a motion for an inquiry into it has been only suspended from prudential motives—the book of account may soon be opened against you. What then, alas, will be your prospects! To have your friendship questioned by that nation is indeed alarming!”

Such was the logic—or rather the mad, seditious cry of faction—employed to forestall public opinion, and defeat the noble and humane intentions of the government. The Democratic Societies, though infirm and tottering, joined in the clamor. One of these in Virginia exclaimed, “Shall we Americans, who have kindled the spark of liberty, stand aloof and see it extinguished when burning a bright flame in France, which hath caught it from us? If all tyrants unite against a free people, should not all free people unite against tyrants? Yes, let us unite with France, and stand or fall together.”

The Massachusetts Society, in an address to all sister societies of the Union, put forth similar sentiments, and declared that the political interests of the United States and France were “one and indivisible.” The Pennsylvania Society exhorted that of New York to be ready and oppose the treaty if its provisions should be found dishonorable to the country; and newspapers and pamphleteers joined in the general cry of factious opposition.

The senate, pursuant to proclamation, assembled at Philadelphia on the eighth of June. Some changes had taken place in the material of that body, favorable to the government. Mr. Jay's treaty, with accompanying documents, was laid before it on the first day of the session. That gentleman had arrived from England a fortnight previously, and found himself elected governor of the state of New York by a large majority; and when he landed, he was greeted by thousands of his fellow-citizens, who gathered to welcome their new chief magistrate, and to testify their respect to the envoy who had so faithfully, as they believed, executed a mission of peace. A great crowd attended him to his dwelling, and the firing of cannon and ringing of bells attested the public joy. He immediately resigned his seat as chief justice of the United States, and three days after his arrival home he took the oath of office as governor of the state of New York.

The senate held secret sessions when considering the treaty, and for a fortnight it was discussed in that body with the greatest freedom and candor. Finally, on the twenty-fourth of June, the senate by a vote of twenty to ten—precisely a constitutional majority—advised the ratification of the treaty, that article excepted which related to the West India trade.

“An insuperable objection,” says Marshall, “existed to an article regulating the intercourse with the British West Indies, founded on a fact which is understood to have been unknown to Mr. Jay. The intention of the contracting parties was to admit the direct intercourse between the United States and those islands, but not to permit the productions of the latter to be carried to Europe in the vessels of the former. To give effect to this intention, the exportation from the United States of those articles which were the principal productions of the islands was to be relinquished. Among these was cotton. This article, which a few years before was scarcely raised in sufficient quantity for domestic consumption, was becoming one of the richest staples of the southern states. The senate, being informed of this fact, advised and consented that the treaty should be ratified on condition that an article be added thereto, suspending that part of the twelfth article which related to the intercourse with the West Indies.

“Although, in the mind of the president, several objections to the treaty had occurred, they were overbalanced by its advantages; and, before transmitting it to the senate, he had resolved to ratify it, if approved by that body. The resolution of the senate presented difficulties which required consideration. Whether they could advise and consent to an article which had not been laid before them, and whether their resolution was to be considered as the final exercise of their power, were questions not entirely free from difficulty. Nor was it absolutely clear that the executive could ratify the treaty, under the advice of the senate, until the suspending article should be introduced into it. A few days were employed in the removal of these doubts; at the expiration of which, intelligence was received from Europe which suspended the resolution which the president had formed.

“The English papers contained an account, which, though not official, was deemed worthy of credit, that the order of the eighth of June, 1793, for the seizure of provisions going to French ports, was renewed. In the apprehension that this order might be construed and intended as a practical construction of that article in the treaty which seemed to favor the idea that provisions, though not generally contraband, might occasionally become so, a construction in which he had determined not to acquiesce, the president thought it wise to reconsider his decision. Of the result of this reconsideration there is no conclusive testimony. A strong memorial against this objectionable order was directed; and the propositions to withhold the ratification of the treaty until the order should be repealed; to make the exchange of ratifications dependent upon that event; and to adhere to his original purpose of pursuing the advice of the senate, connecting with that measure the memorial which had been mentioned, as an act explanatory of the sense in which his ratification was made, were severally reviewed by him. In conformity with his practice of withholding his opinion on controverted points until it should become necessary to decide them, he suspended his determination on these propositions until the memorial should be prepared and laid before him.”[78]

The senate, on voting to recommend the ratification of the treaty, removed the seal of secrecy, but forbade any publication of the treaty itself. Regardless alike of the rules of the senate, and of official decorum, Senator Mason, of Virginia, sent to Bache, the editor of the Aurora (the democratic newspaper) a full abstract of the treaty, which was published on the second of July. In this, Mason had only anticipated Washington, who, to counteract statements concerning the contents of the treaty, and malignant comments which began to appear, had resolved to have the whole document published.

FOOTNOTES:

[75] Life of Washington, ii, 360.

[76] His son, William Jay.

[77] Life and Writings of John Jay, by his Son, William Jay, i, 323.

[78] Life of Washington, ii, 361.

CHAPTER XXIX.

TOP

termination of jay's treaty—washington withholds his signature to the ratification—efforts to intimidate him—violent proceedings in philadelphia and new york—proceedings of the selectmen of boston—riotous proceedings in new york—hamilton and others stoned—opposition to the treaty—chamber of commerce in favor of the treaty—movements in philadelphia—denunciations of jay and the treaty in the southern states—disunion threatened—washington's letter to the selectmen of boston—washington at mount vernon—his hasty return to the seat of government—fauchet's letter intercepted—confidence withdrawn from randolph—the ratification of the treaty signed—randolph and fauchet—randolph's vindication of his conduct—his repentance.

The publication of the contents of the treaty produced a blaze of excitement throughout the country. The author of the treaty, the senators who approved of its ratification, and the president, were all vehemently denounced. Great indignation had already been expressed because the entire negotiation had been involved in mysterious secrecy; because the document had not been immediately made public on its reception by the president; and because the senate deliberated upon it with closed doors. The partisans of France had used every effort, during the spring and summer, to excite the people against Great Britain; and it was evident, from the tone of opposition writers and declaimers, that no possible adjustment of difficulties with that country, which might promise a future friendly intercourse between the two nations, would be satisfactory.[79]

It was asserted that any treaty of amity and commerce with Great Britain under the circumstances, whatever might be its principles, was a degrading insult to the American people, a pusillanimous surrender of their honor, and a covert injury to France. They affected to regard the compact as an alliance; an abandonment of an ancient ally of the United States, whose friendship had given them independence, and whose current victories, at that moment challenging the admiration of the world, still protected them, for an alliance with the natural enemy of that friend, and with an enemy of human liberty. They spoke of the court of Great Britain as the most faithless and corrupt in the world, and denounced the result of Jay's mission as a surrender of every just claim upon a rapacious enemy for restitution on account of great wrongs.

These denunciations had great immediate effect. All acknowledged that the treaty was not as favorable to the United States as the latter had a right to expect; and “public opinion did receive a considerable shock,” says Marshall. Men unaffected by the spirit of faction felt some disappointment on its first appearance; therefore, when exposed to the public view, continues Marshall, “it found one party prepared for a bold and intrepid attack, but the other not ready in its defence. An appeal to the passions, prejudices, and feelings of the nation might confidently be made by those whose only object was its condemnation; while reflection, information, and consequently time, were required by men whose first impressions were not in its favor, but who were not inclined to yield absolutely to those impressions.”

As we have observed, Washington, for a specific purpose, withheld his signature in ratification of the treaty. The vote of the senate recommending its ratification, with the stipulation that one article should be added, suspending so much of another as seemed requisite, and requesting the president to open without delay further negotiation on that head, presented serious questions to his mind. He had no precedent for his guide. Could the senate be considered to have ratified the treaty before the insertion of the new article? Was the act complete and final, so as to make it unnecessary to refer it back to that body? Could the president affix his official seal to an act before it should be complete? These were important questions, and demanded serious reflection.

The opponents of the treaty, aware of the cause of the delay in its ratification, resolved to endeavor to intimidate the president and prevent his signing it. The most violent demonstrations, by word and deed, were made against it. On the fourth of July, a great mob assembled in Philadelphia, and paraded the streets with effigies of Jay and the ratifying senators. That of Jay bore a pair of scales: one was labelled “American Liberty and Independence;” and the other, which greatly preponderated, “British Gold.” From the mouth of the figure proceeded the words, “Come up to my price, and I will sell you my country.” The effigies were committed to the flames amid the most frightful yells and groans.

Public meetings were assembled all over the country to make formal protests against the treaty. They were called ostensibly to “deliberate upon it,” but they were frequently tumultuous, and always declamatory. A large meeting was held in Boston on the tenth of July. The chief actors there denounced the treaty as not containing one single article honorable or beneficial to the United States. It was disapproved of by unanimous vote, and a committee of fifteen, appointed to state objections, in an address to the president, reported no less than twenty. They were adopted by the meeting without debate, and were sent to the president accompanied by a letter from the selectmen of Boston. Only a few of the stable inhabitants of Boston appear to have been concerned in this matter, and the wealthy merchants and some other rich men who attended the meeting, and whose fears were excited by the leaders of the opposition, were made mere tools of on the occasion.

A meeting for a similar purpose was held in front of the city-hall, in Wall street, New York, on the eighteenth of July, pursuant to a call of an anonymous handbill. There the opposition gathered in great numbers, and there also was a large number of the friends of the treaty, who succeeded at first in electing a chairman. They were then about to adjourn to some more convenient place, when Brockholst Livingston, Mr. Jay's brother-in-law, and a leader of the opposition, urged the meeting to proceed instantly, as the president might ratify the treaty at any moment. Indeed, the whole Livingston family, with the eminent chancellor at their head, were now in the ranks of the opposition, and exerted a powerful influence. “With more than thoughtless effrontery,” says Doctor Francis, “they fanned the embers of discontent.”

Hamilton, Rufus King, and other speakers, occupied the balcony of the city-hall. The former, with sweet and persuasive tones, had uttered conciliatory words, and spoken in favor of adjournment, when the meeting became a good deal disturbed by conflicting sentiments and stormy passions. Just then an excited party of the opposition, who had held a meeting at the Bowling Green, with William L. Smith, a son-in-law of Vice-President Adams, as chairman, and who had burned a copy of the treaty in front of the government house, marched up Broadway, with the American and French flags unfurled, and joined the meeting. The turbulence of the assembly was greatly increased by this addition; and while Hamilton and King “were addressing the people in accents of friendship, peace, and reconciliation, they were treated in return with a shower of stones, levelled at their persons, by the exasperated mob gathered in front of the city-hall.”[80]

“These are hard arguments,” said Hamilton, who was hit a glancing blow upon the forehead by one of the stones. A question was finally taken on a motion to leave the decision on the treaty to the president and senate, when both sides claimed a majority. Then some person, utterly ignoring the presence of a chairman, moved the appointment of a committee of fifteen, to report to another meeting (to be held two days afterward) objections to the treaty. He read a list of names of gentlemen that should form that committee, and, at the close of clamorous shouts, he declared them duly appointed by the vote. The meeting finally broke up in great confusion. The adjourned meeting was attended by only the opponents of the treaty; and Brockholst Livingston, chairman of the committee of fifteen, reported twenty-eight condemnatory resolutions, which were adopted by unanimous vote.

“These resolutions,” says Hildreth, “while expressing great confidence in the president's wisdom, patriotism, and independence, were equally confident that his 'own good sense' must induce him to reject the treaty, as 'invading the constitution and legislative authority of the country; as abandoning important and well-founded claims against the British government; as imposing unjust and impolitic restraints on commerce; as injurious to agriculture; as conceding, without an equivalent, important advantages to Great Britain; as hostile and ungrateful to France; as committing our peace with that great republic; as unequal toward America in every respect; as hazarding her internal peace and prosperity; and as derogatory from her sovereignty and independence.”[81]

On the very next day (July 22), the New York Chamber of Commerce, representing the commercial interests of that city, adopted resolutions diametrically opposed to those offered by Livingston. These set forth that the treaty contained as many features of reciprocity as, under the circumstances, might be expected; that the arrangements respecting British debts were honest and expedient; and that the agreement concerning the surrender of the western posts and for compensation for spoliations, and their prevention in future, were wise and beneficial. If the treaty had been rejected, they said, war with all its attendant calamities would have ensued, and they were satisfied with what had been done.

On the twenty-fourth of July a similar meeting was held in Philadelphia. Among the leaders who denounced the treaty by speech and acts were Chief-Justice M'Kean, Alexander J. Dallas (the secretary of the commonwealth), General Muhlenburg (late speaker of the house of representatives), and John Swanwick (representative elect in Congress). A committee of fifteen was appointed by the meeting to convey the sentiments of the assemblage to the president, who was then at Mount Vernon, in the form of a memorial. That instrument was read twice and agreed to without debate. The treaty was then thrown to the populace—consisting chiefly, as Wolcott said in a letter to the president, of “the ignorant and violent classes”—who placed it upon a pole, and, proceeding to the house of the British minister, burned it in the street in front of it. They performed a like ceremony in front of the dwelling of the British consul, and also of Mr. Bingham, an influential federalist, with loud huzzas, yells, and groans.

At the South, equally hostile feelings toward the treaty and its friends were manifested. John Rutledge, then chief justice of South Carolina, denounced the treaty in violent language at a public meeting. He said it was destitute of a single article that could be approved, and reproached Jay with being either a knave or a fool—with corruption or stupidity—in having signed it. The stanch old patriot, Christopher Gadsden, denounced it in terms equally decisive; and Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, at the close of a violent harangue, moved to request the president to take steps to have Jay impeached. “If he had not made this public exposure of his conduct and principles,” said Pinckney, “he might one day have been brought forward, among others, as a candidate for our highest office: but the general and deserved contempt which his negotiations have brought both his talents and principles into, would for ever, he trusted, secure his fellow-citizens from the dangerous and unwise use which such a man would have made of the powers vested in a president.”

The meeting appointed a committee of fifteen to report their sentiments at another gathering. It was done on the twenty-second of July. The report contained severe criticisms upon the several articles of the treaty, and recommended a memorial to the president, asking him not to ratify it. Meanwhile the populace trailed a British flag through the streets, and then burned it at the door of the British consul.

While these meetings were occurring in the principal cities, the opposition press all over the country was alive with the subject, and its denunciations were sometimes so violent that it was difficult to find words strong enough to express them. The Democratic Societies, vivified by the excitement, were also active with a sort of galvanic life. One of these in South Carolina resolved, “That we pledge ourselves to our brethren of the republican societies throughout the Union, as far as the ability and individual influence of a numerous society can be made to extend, that we will promote every constitutional mode to bring John Jay to trial and to justice. He shall not escape, if guilty, that punishment which will at once wipe off the temporary stain laid upon us, and be a warning to traitors hereafter how they sport with the interests and feelings of their fellow-citizens. He was instructed, or he was not: if he was, we will drop the curtain; if not, and he acted of and from himself, we shall lament the want of a guillotine.”

The Pendleton Society of the same state declared their “abhorrence and detestation of a treaty which gives the English government more power over us as states than it claimed over us as colonists—a treaty, involving in it pusillanimity, stupidity, ingratitude, and treachery.”

In Virginia, the grand panacea for all political evils of the federal government, disunion, was again presented. The following specimen of the prescription, taken from a Virginia newspaper, will suffice as an example:—

“Notice is hereby given, that in case the treaty entered into by that damned arch-traitor, John Jay, with the British tyrant should be ratified, a petition will be presented to the next general assembly of Virginia at their next session, praying that the said state may recede from the Union, and be under the government of one hundred thousand free and independent Virginians.

“P. S. As it is the wish of the people of the said state to enter into a treaty of amity, commerce, and navigation, with any other state or states of the present Union who are averse to returning again under the galling yoke of Great Britain, the printers of the (at present) United States are requested to publish the above notification.—Richmond, July 31, 1795.”

Even at that early period of the republic, neither newspaper editors, nor political combinations, nor gatherings of clamorous assemblies, could make any sensible impression on the real strength of the Union.

Nor did these individual or public demonstrations move Washington from his steady march in the line of duty, or in his allegiance to what he discerned to be truth and justice. On his way to his home on the Potomac, he was overtaken at Baltimore, on the eighteenth of July, by the committee from Boston, bearing to him the proceedings of the great public meeting there on the subject of the treaty. He immediately sent the papers back to Mr. Randolph, the secretary of state, with a request that he would confer upon the subject with the other two secretaries and the attorney-general, and transmit the opinion of the cabinet to him as early as possible. The whole affair, he had no doubt, was intended to place him “in an embarrassed situation.” The cabinet members, after consultation, wrote out replies to the Boston authorities in accordance with their views, and sent them to the president. He weighed them carefully, and on the twenty-eighth of July he addressed the following letter to the selectmen of Boston:—[82]

“In every act of my administration I have sought the happiness of my fellow-citizens. My system for the attainment of this object has uniformly been to overlook all personal, local, and partial considerations; to contemplate the United States as one great whole; to consider that sudden impressions, when erroneous, would yield to candid reflection; and to consult only the substantial and permanent interests of our country.

“Nor have I departed from this line of conduct, on the occasion which has produced the resolutions contained in your letter of the thirteenth instant.

“With a predilection for my own judgment, I have weighed with attention every argument which has at any time been brought into view. But the constitution is the guide, which I never can abandon. It has assigned to the president the power of making treaties, with the advice and consent of the senate. It was doubtless supposed that these two branches of government would combine, without passion, and with the best means of information, those facts and principles upon which the success of our foreign relations will always depend; that they ought not to substitute for their own conviction the opinions of others, or to seek truth through any channel but that of a temperate and well-informed investigation.

“Under this persuasion, I have resolved on the manner of executing the duty before me. To the high responsibility attached to it I freely submit; and you, gentlemen, are at liberty to make these sentiments known as the grounds of my procedure. While I feel the most lively gratitude for the many instances of approbation from my country, I can no otherwise deserve it than by obeying the dictates of my conscience.”

To these noble sentiments Washington firmly adhered, and they were the basis of his replies to all similar communications. Before this letter was sent, Washington received many private and public letters on the subject, as well as newspaper accounts of meetings all over the country. He perceived that a crisis had arrived, when he must act promptly and energetically, in accordance with his convictions of right. He saw that the excitement throughout the Union was becoming formidable, and he resolved to return to Philadelphia immediately, summon his cabinet, and propose to ratify the treaty without delay—notwithstanding such return would be to him a great personal sacrifice. “Whilst I am in office,” he said to Randolph in his letter announcing his determination to return, “I shall never suffer private convenience to interfere with what I conceive to be my official duty.” This was one of the great maxims of his life.

“I view the opposition,” he said, “which the treaty is receiving from the meetings in different parts of the Union, in a very serious light; not because there is more weight in any of the objections which are made to it than was foreseen at first, for there is none in some of them, and gross misrepresentations in others; nor as it respects myself personally, for this shall have no influence on my conduct, plainly perceiving, and I am accordingly preparing my mind for it, the obloquy which disappointment and malice are collecting to heap upon me. But I am alarmed at the effect it may have on, and the advantage the French government may be disposed to make of, the spirit which is at work to cherish a belief in them that the treaty is calculated to favor Great Britain at their expense. Whether they believe or disbelieve these tales, the effect it will have upon the nation will be nearly the same; for, whilst they are at war with that power, or so long as the animosity between the two nations exists, it will, no matter at whose expense, be their policy, and it is to be feared will be their conduct, to prevent us from being on good terms with Great Britain, or her from deriving any advantages from our trade, which they can hinder, however much we may be benefitted thereby ourselves. To what length this policy and interest may carry them is problematical; but when they see the people of this country divided, and such a violent opposition given to the measures of their own government pretendedly in their favor, it may be extremely embarrassing, to say no more of it.

“To sum the whole up in a few words, I have never, since I have been in the administration of the government, seen a crisis, which in my judgment has been so pregnant with interesting events, nor one from which more is to be apprehended, whether viewed on one side or the other. From New York there is, and I am told will further be, a counter current; but how formidable it may appear I know not. If the same does not take place at Boston and other towns, it will afford but too strong evidence that the opposition is in a manner universal, and would make the ratification a very serious business indeed. But, as it respects the French, even counter resolutions would, for the reasons I have already mentioned, do little more than weaken in a small degree the effect the other side would have.”

Two days afterward (the thirty-first of July) he wrote to Mr. Randolph, informing him that he should not set out for Philadelphia until he should receive answers to some letters, and then said:—

“To be wise and temperate, as well as firm, the present crisis most eminently calls for. There is too much reason to believe, from the pains which have been taken, before, at, and since the advice of the senate respecting the treaty, that the prejudices against it are more extensive than is generally imagined. This I have lately understood to be the case in this quarter, from men who are of no party, but well disposed to the present administration. How should it be otherwise, when no stone has been left unturned that could impress on the minds of the people the most arrant misrepresentation of facts; that their rights have not only been neglected, but absolutely sold; that there are no reciprocal advantages in the treaty; that the benefits are all on the side of Great Britain; and, what seems to have had more weight with them than all the rest and to have been most pressed, that the treaty is made with the design to oppress the French, in open violation of our treaty with that nation, and contrary, too, to every principle of gratitude and sound policy? In time, when passion shall have yielded to sober reason, the current may possibly turn; but, in the meanwhile, this government, in relation to France and England, may be compared to a ship between the rocks of Scylla and Charybdis. If the treaty is ratified, the partisans of the French, or rather of war and confusion, will excite them to hostile measures, or at least to unfriendly sentiments; if it is not, there is no foreseeing all the consequences which may follow as it respects Great Britain.

“It is not to be inferred from hence that I am disposed to quit the ground I have taken, unless circumstances more imperious than have yet come to my knowledge should compel it; for there is but one straight course, and that is, to seek truth and pursue it steadily.

“But these things are mentioned to show that a close investigation of the subject is more than ever necessary, and that they are strong evidences of the necessity of the most circumspect conduct in carrying the determination of government into effect, with prudence as it respects our own people, and with every exertion to produce a change for the better from Great Britain.”

Randolph, at Washington's request, had made a rough draft of a memorial, intended to meet all objections to the treaty. This had been sent to Mount Vernon, and in reference to it the president said:—

“The memorial seems well designed to answer the end proposed; and by the time it is revised and new-dressed, you will probably (either in the resolutions, which are or will be handed to me, or in the newspaper publications, which you promised to be attentive to) have seen all the objections against the treaty which have any real force in them, and which may be fit subjects for representation in the memorial, or in the instructions, or both.

“But how much longer the presentation of the memorial can be delayed without exciting unpleasant sensations here, or involving serious evils elsewhere, you, who are at the scene of information and action, can decide better than I. In a matter, however, so interesting and pregnant with consequences as this treaty, there ought to be no precipitation; but, on the contrary, every step should be explored before it is taken, and every word weighed before it is uttered or delivered in writing.”

Washington arrived at Philadelphia on the eleventh of August. His return was hastened by a mysterious letter from Colonel Pickering, the secretary of war, dated the thirty-first of July. “On the subject of the treaty,” he said, “I confess I feel extreme solicitude, and for a special reason, which can be communicated to you only in person. I entreat, therefore, that you will return with all convenient speed to the seat of government. In the meantime, for the reason above referred to, I pray you to decide on no important political measure, in whatever form it may be presented to you. Mr. Wolcott and I (Mr. Bradford concurring) waited on Mr. Randolph, and urged his writing to request your return. He wrote in our presence, but we concluded a letter from one of us also expedient.”

On the day after his arrival, the president called a cabinet meeting. Mr. Pickering had already explained the mysterious hints in his letter, by handing to Washington some papers which had excited suspicions concerning Secretary Randolph's conduct. When the cabinet had convened, the president submitted the question, “What shall be done with the treaty?” Randolph not only insisted upon the repeal of the provision order already alluded to, as a preliminary to ratification, but took the ground that the treaty ought not to be ratified at all, pending the war with Great Britain and France. The other members of the cabinet were in favor of immediate ratification, with a strong memorial against the provision order. In this opinion Washington coincided, and on the eighteenth the ratification was signed by the president. Randolph was directed to complete the memorial which he had commenced, and also instructions for further negotiations.

Washington's feelings had been deeply moved by the papers which Pickering placed in his hands. The chief of these was a despatch of M. Fauchet, the French minister, to his government, late in the autumn of 1794, and which had been intercepted. In that despatch, Fauchet gave a sketch of the rise of parties in the United States, in substantial accordance with Jefferson's views, and then he commented freely upon the Whiskey Insurrection in western Pennsylvania, then drawing to a close. Echoing the sentiments of the democratic leaders, Fauchet, professing to have his information from Randolph, declared that the insurrection grew out of political hostility to Hamilton. It was Hamilton's intention, he said, in enforcing the excise, “to mislead the president into unpopular courses, and to introduce absolute power under pretext of giving energy to the government.”

In his further comments, the minister, in deprecation of the conduct of professed republicans, and the general co-operation with the president in putting down the insurrection, said: “Of the governors whose duty it was to appear at the head of the requisitions, the governor of Pennsylvania alone [Mifflin] enjoyed the name of republican. His opinions of the secretary of the treasury, and of his systems, were known to be unfavorable. The secretary of this state [Dallas] possessed great influence in the popular society of Philadelphia, which in its turn influenced those of other states; of course he merited attention. It appears that these men, with others unknown to me, were balancing to decide on their party. Two or three days before the proclamation was published, and of course before the cabinet had resolved on its measures, Mr. Randolph came to me with an air of great eagerness, and made to me the overtures of which I have given an account in my No. 6.[83]

Thus, with some thousands of dollars, the republic could have decided on civil war or on peace! Thus the consciences of the pretended patriots of America already have their prices! What will be the old age of this government, if it is thus already decrepit?”

After speaking of Hamilton's financial schemes as the instrument of making “of a whole nation a stock-jobbing, speculating, and selfish people,” and asserting that “riches alone here fix consideration, and, as no one likes to be despised, they are universally sought after,” he makes some exceptions among the leading republicans by name, and continues:—

“As soon as it was decided that the French republic purchased no men to do their duty, there were to be seen individuals, about whose conduct the government could at least form uneasy conjectures, giving themselves up with scandalous ostentation to its views, and ever seconding its declarations. The popular societies [democratic] soon emitted resolutions stamped with the same spirit, which, although they may not have been prompted by love of order, might nevertheless have been omitted, or uttered with less solemnity. Then were seen, coming from the very men whom we have been accustomed to regard as having little friendship for the treasurer, harangues without end, in order to give a new direction to the public mind.”

This despatch had been intercepted at sea, found its way to the British cabinet, and was forwarded to Mr. Hammond, the British minister at Philadelphia. He placed it in the hands of Mr. Wolcott, the secretary of the treasury, for he ascribed the delay in the ratification of the treaty to Randolph's influence. It was translated by Mr. Pickering, and he, as we have seen, submitted it to the president on his arrival at the seat of government. Washington revolved it in his mind with great concern; but other matters of greater moment demanding his immediate attention after his arrival, he postponed all action upon it until the question of ratifying the treaty should be settled. On the day after the signing of that instrument, the president, in the presence of all the cabinet officers, handed the intercepted despatch to Mr. Randolph, with a request that he should read it and make such explanations as he might think fit.

This was the first intimation Mr. Randolph had of the existence of such a letter. He perused it carefully without perceptible emotion, and with equal composure he commented upon each paragraph in order. He declared that he had never asked for, nor received, any money from the French minister for himself or others, and had never made any improper communications to Fauchet of the measures of the government. He said that he wished more leisure to examine the letter, and he proposed to put further observations in writing. He complained, perhaps justly, of the president's manner in bringing the subject to his notice, without any private intimation of such intention; and he added, that in consideration of the treatment he had received, he could not think of remaining in office a moment longer.

On the same day Randolph tendered his resignation to the president. In his letter accompanying it, he said, “Your confidence in me, sir, has been unlimited, and, I can truly affirm, unabused. My sensations, then, can not be concealed, when I find that confidence so suddenly withdrawn, without a word or distant hint being previously dropped to me. This, sir, as I mentioned in your room, is a situation in which I can not hold my present office, and therefore I hereby resign it.

“It will not, however, be concluded from hence that I mean to relinquish the inquiry. No, sir—very far from it. I will also meet any inquiry; and to prepare for it, if I learn there is a chance of overtaking Mr. Fauchet before he sails, I will go to him immediately.[84]

“I have to beg the favor of you to permit me to be furnished with a copy of the letter, and I will prepare an answer to it; which I perceive that I can not do with the few hasty memoranda which I took with my pencil. I am satisfied, sir, that you will acknowledge one piece of justice to be due on this occasion, which is, that until an inquiry can be made, the affair shall continue in secrecy under your injunction. For, after pledging myself for a more specific investigation of all the suggestions, I here most solemnly deny that any overture came from me, which was to produce money to me or any others for me; and that in any manner, directly or indirectly, was a shilling ever received by me; nor was it ever contemplated by me that one shilling should be applied by Mr. Fauchet to any purpose relative to the insurrection.”

On the following day, Washington wrote to Mr. Randolph: “Whilst you are in pursuit of means to remove the strong suspicions arising from this letter, no disclosure of its contents will be made by me, and I will enjoin the same on the public officers who are acquainted with the purport of it, unless something will appear to render an explanation necessary on the part of the government, and of which I will be the judge.” He afterward said, “No man would rejoice more than I, to find that the suspicions which have resulted from the intercepted letter were unequivocally and honorably removed.”

A message from Randolph reached Fauchet before he was ready to embark, and the minister wrote to the late secretary, a declaration, denying that the latter had ever indicated a willingness to receive money for his own use, and also affirming that, in his letter to his government, he did not say anything derogatory to Mr. Randolph's character. With this declaration from the retiring French minister, and a reliance upon the general tenor of his conduct while in the cabinet, Randolph proceeded to prepare his vindication, at the same time publicly boasting to his friends, with a vindictive spirit, that he would bring things to view which would affect Washington more than anything which had yet appeared. Among other things which he proposed to do, in order to damage the reputation of Washington, was, to undertake to show, by the president's own letter to him on the twenty-second of July, that he (Washington) was opposed to the treaty which he had now so eagerly signed; and that the intercepted despatch had been communicated to Washington as part of a scheme concocted between the British minister and the cabinet officers to insure the ratification of the treaty, to drive Randolph from office, and to crush the republican party in the United States.

The paragraph in Washington's letter on which Randolph intended to base this charge was as follows: “My opinion respecting the treaty is the same now that it was; namely, not favorable to it, but that it is better to ratify it in the manner the senate have advised, and with the reservation already mentioned, than to suffer matters to remain as they are, unsettled.” The letter from which this is copied was on file in the office of the secretary of state; and Randolph, with evidences of a strangely bitter feeling toward Washington, applied to him for a copy of it, that he might publish it in his vindication. “You must be sensible, sir,” he said, “that I am inevitably driven to the discussion of many confidential and delicate points. I could, with safety, immediately appeal to the people of the United States, who can be of no party. But I shall wait for your answer to this letter, so far as it respects the paper desired, before I forward to you my general letter, which is delayed for no other cause. I shall also rely that any supposed error in the general letter in regard to facts will be made known to me, that I may correct it if necessary, and that you will consent to the whole affair, howsoever confidential and delicate, being exhibited to the world. At the same time, I prescribe to myself the condition not to mingle anything which I do not seriously conceive to belong to the subject.”

Utterly mistaking the character of Washington, and ungenerously presuming that the president would withhold his consent to the publication of the letter referred to, Randolph published in the Philadelphia Gazette, two days after he wrote to Washington, the paragraph in his application which has just been quoted, and with it a note to the editor, saying, “The letter from which the enclosed is an extract relates principally to the requisition of a particular paper. My only view at present is to show to my fellow-citizens what is the state of my vindication.”

Washington was then at Mount Vernon, and the letter, an extract from which was published, could not have reached him when that paragraph was made public. It passed Washington while on his way to Philadelphia, and he did not receive it until the twentieth of October, twelve days after it was written. On the following day, Washington, with a perfect consciousness of his own rectitude at all times and under all circumstances, and with a noble generosity to which his assailant showed himself a stranger, wrote to him as follows:—

“It is not difficult, from the tenor of your letter, to perceive what your objects are. But, that you may have no cause to complain of the withholding of any paper, however private and confidential, which you shall think necessary in a case of so serious a nature, I have directed that you should have the inspection of my letter of the twenty-second of July, agreeably to your request; and you are at full liberty to publish without reserve any and every private and confidential letter I ever wrote to you; nay, more—every word I ever uttered to you, or in your hearing, from whence you can derive any advantage in your vindication. I grant this permission, inasmuch as the extract alluded to manifestly tends to impress on the public mind an opinion that something has passed between us, which you should disclose with reluctance, from motives of delicacy with respect to me.”

In reference to Randolph's proposition to submit his vindication to the inspection of Washington, the latter remarked, “As you are no longer an officer of the government, and propose to submit your vindication to the public, it is not my desire, nor is it my intention, to receive it otherwise than through the medium of the press. Facts you can not mistake, and, if they are fairly and candidly stated, they will invite no comments.”

In December the pamphlet appeared, entitled, “A Vindication of Mr. Randolph's Resignation,” in which was a narrative of the principal events which we have just been considering, the correspondence between the president and Randolph, the whole of Fauchet's letter, and Randolph's remarks. “From the nature of the circumstances,” says Sparks, “Mr. Randolph had a difficult task to perform, as he was obliged to prove a negative, and to explain vague expressions and insinuations connected with his name in Fauchet's letter.” The statements which he made in proof of his innocence were not such as to produce entire conviction. “He moreover,” continues Sparks, “allowed himself to be betrayed into a warmth of temper and bitterness of feeling not altogether favorable to his candor. After all that has been made known, the particulars of his conversations with Fauchet and his designs are still matters of conjecture.”

In after life, Mr. Randolph deeply regretted the course that he pursued toward Washington at this time. In a letter to Judge Bushrod Washington, written in the summer of 1810, he said: “I do not retain the smallest degree of that feeling which roused me fifteen years ago against some individuals. For the world contains no treasure, deception, or charm, which can seduce me from the consolation of being in a state of good will towards all mankind; and I should not be mortified to ask pardon of any man with whom I have been at variance, for any injury which I may have done him. If I could now present myself before your venerated uncle, it would be my pride to confess my contrition, that I suffered my irritation, let the cause be what it might, to use some of those expressions respecting him, which, at this moment of my indifference to the ideas of the world, I wish to recall, as being inconsistent with my subsequent conviction.”[85]

It was thus with all the assaults ever made upon the character of Washington. They always failed to injure it in the slightest degree; and the sharpest and best-tempered shafts of malignity fell blunted and harmless from the invulnerable shield of his spotless integrity.

FOOTNOTES:

[79] At a civic feast in Philadelphia, on the first of May, which was attended by a great number of American citizens, to celebrate the recent victories of France, the subjoined toasts were given. The managers of the feast sent the following invitation to President Washington:—

“Sir: The subscribers, a committee in behalf of a number of American, French, and Dutch citizens, request the honor of your company to a civic festival, to be given on Friday, the seventeenth of April, appointed to celebrate the late victories of the French republic, and the emancipation of Holland.” The feast was postponed until the first of May. Washington did not attend; but the occasion was honored by the presence of the French minister and consul, and the consul of Holland. The following are the toasts:—

1. The republic of France, whose triumphs have made this day a jubilee; may she destroy the race of kings, and may their broken sceptres and crowns, like the bones and teeth of the mammoth, be the only evidence that such monsters ever infested the earth.

2. The republic of France; may the shores of Great Britain soon hail the tri-colored standard, and the people rend the air with shouts of 'Long live the republic!'

3. The republic of France; may her navy clear the ocean of pirates, that the common high way of nations may no longer, like the highways of Great Britain, be a receptacle for robbers.

4. The republic of France; may all free nations learn of her to transfer their attachment from men to principles, and from individuals to the people.

5. The republic of France; may her example, in the abolition of titles and splendor, be a lesson to all republics to destroy those leavens of corruption.

6. The republic of Holland; may the flame of liberty which they have rekindled never be permitted to expire for want of vigilance and energy.

7. The republic of Holland; may her two sisters, the republics of France and America, form with her an invincible triumvirate in the cause of liberty.

8. The republic of Holland; may she again give birth to a Van Tromp and a De Ruyter, who shall make the satellites of George tremble at their approach, and seek their safety in flight.

9. The republic of Holland; may that fortitude which sustained her in the dire conflict with Philip the Second, and the success that crowned her struggles, be multiplied upon her in the hour of her regeneration.

10. The republic of Holland; may that government which they are about establishing have neither the balances of aristocracy nor the checks of monarchy.

11. The republic of America; may the sentiment that impelled her to resist a British tyrant's will, and the energy which rendered it effectual, prompt her to repel usurpation in whatever shape it may assail her.

12. The republic of America; may the aristocracy of wealth, founded upon the virtues, the toils, and the blood of her Revolutionary armies, soon vanish, and, like the baseless fabric of a vision, leave not a wreck behind.

13. The republic of America; may her government have public good for its object, and be purged of the dregs of sophisticated republicanism.

14. The republic of America; may the alliance formed between her and France acquire vigor with age, and that man be branded as the enemy of liberty who shall endeavor to weaken or unhinge it.

15. The republic of America; may her administration have virtue enough to defy the ordeal of patriotic societies, and patriotism enough to cherish instead of denouncing them.”

[80] Old and New York, by J. W. Francis, M. D., LL.D. “Edward Livingston,” says Doctor Francis, (afterwards so celebrated for his Louisiana Code,) “was, I am informed, one of the violent numbers by whom the stones were thrown.”

[81] History of the United States, Second Series, i, 550.

[82] The names of the selectmen who addressed him were Ezekiel Price, Thomas Walley, William Boardman, Ebenezer Seaver, Thomas Crafts, Thomas Edwards, William Little, William Scollay, and Jesse Putnam.

[83] In “No. 6,” written, it is supposed, some time in August, Fauchet, alluding to the breaking out of the Whiskey Insurrection, said: “Scarce was the commotion known when the secretary of state [Mr. Randolph] came to my house. All his countenance was grief. He requested of me a private conversation. 'It is all over,' he said to me; 'a civil war is about to ravage our unhappy country. Four men, by their talents, their influence, their energy, may save it. But—debtors of English merchants—they will be deprived of their liberty if they take the smallest step. Could you lend them instantaneous funds sufficient to shelter them from English persecution?' This inquiry astonished me. It was impossible for me to make a satisfactory answer. You know my want of power and my defect of pecuniary means. I shall draw myself from the affair by some common-place remarks, and by throwing myself on the pure and disinterested principles of the republic.”

[84] Fauchet had been superseded by M. Adet, and had gone to New York to embark for France, when this difficulty occurred.

[85] Marshall's Life of Washington, ii. Appendix, Note xx.

CHAPTER XXX.

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violence of party spirit—inflammatory appeals to the people—washington menaced with impeachment, and charged with plundering the treasury—newspaper discussions—hamilton in defence of the treaty—jefferson's appeal to madison to come to the rescue—proceedings in boston—reconstruction of the cabinet—arrival of young lafayette—washington's friendship for him—caution and expediency—the exiles and the congress—their home at mount vernon—their departure for france.

The ratification of the treaty increased the violence of party spirit. The batteries of fiercest vituperation were now opened upon the president, and the habitual courtesy with which he had been treated was lost sight of in the fury of party hate.

The opponents of the treaty saw only one more expedient to defeat it, now that they had failed to intimidate Washington or cause him to withhold his signature. They started the idea, as a forlorn hope, that although the president might ratify, it still rested with the house of representatives to refuse, if they chose, the pecuniary means to carry the treaty into effect, and thus to nullify it. They, therefore, resolved to use every effort to accomplish their purposes in this way. The elections in the several states were not yet completed, and they felt confident that a majority had already been chosen who were hostile to the treaty.

The most inflammatory addresses were circulated, to influence the people against the president and the treaty, and to form a public opinion that should bear with potency upon the supreme legislature. “The president,” said one of these addresses, “has thrown the gauntlet, and shame on the coward heart that refuses to take it up. He has declared war against the people, by treating their opinions with contempt; he has forfeited his claim to their confidence, by acting in opposition to their will. Our liberties are in jeopardy, and we must either rescue them from the precipice or they will be lost for ever. One hope offers itself to us, and a consolatory one, too—the house of representatives of the United States. As we have looked in vain for patriotism from the president, let us turn our eyes toward that body; they are our immediate representatives; they feel our wants, participate in our injuries, and sympathize in our distresses. They never will submit to have our country degraded; they never will be passive under the outrages upon our constitution; they never will be the instruments of voting away the people's rights. As our application to the president has been treated with scorn, let us make our appeal to that body which has the power of impeachment, and we shall not find them step-fathers of their country. A treaty which has bartered away their rights can not, will not, be submitted to. Let us then, fellow-citizens, rally round our representatives, and we may still be free!”

Such appeals had a powerful effect; and a writer in the Aurora went so far as to charge Washington with having used the public money for his own private use! The charge was maintained with the most unblushing effrontery. When Congress met, petitions were forwarded to the house of representatives from all parts of the Union, bitterly denouncing the treaty, and praying that body to stand in the breach and rescue the country from the usurpations of the president and senate. The newspapers discussed the subject with great warmth; and Brockholst Livingston, over the signature of “Decius,” assailed the treaty with great ability. This aroused Hamilton, who had both spoken and written in favor of the treaty. He came to the tournament most gallantly, and, over the signature of “Camillus,” he dealt such powerful blows with his battle-axe of fact and logic; that “Decius” was quickly unhorsed. Jefferson, with his eagle vision, had watched the combat with intense interest from his eyry at Monticello; and when he saw the force of Hamilton's reasoning, and the power it must have upon the people, he shouted to Madison to join the lists and do battle against “Camillus,” and a smaller champion called “Curtius.” “Hamilton,” he exclaimed in a letter to Madison on the twenty-first of September, “is really a colossus to the anti-republican party. Without numbers, he is a host within himself. They have got themselves into a defile, where they might be finished; but too much security on the republican part will give time to his talents and indefatigableness to extricate them. We have had only middling performers to oppose to him. In truth, when he comes forward, there is nobody but yourself who can meet him. His adversaries have begun the attack, he has the advantage of answering them, and remains unanswered himself. A solid reply might yet completely demolish what was too feebly attacked, and has gathered strength from the weakness of the attack.” With his usual alarm-bell notes, Jefferson then spoke of “Hamilton, Jay,” etc., as engaged “in the boldest act they ever ventured on to undermine the government;” and exclaimed, in conclusion, “For God's sake, take up your pen and give a fundamental reply to 'Curtius' and 'Camillus.'”[86]

The opposition found other champions of the treaty to meet than newspaper writers. The friends of that instrument and the government rallied in various forms. A few days before the president signed the ratification, the Boston Chamber of Commerce, like that of New York, representing a large and influential class to be affected by the treaty, passed a resolution, with only one dissenting voice, in favor of ratification. Some violent Boston republicans, to counteract these expressions, used the mobocratic argument and paraded an effigy of Jay in the streets, and concluded the performance by burning it, attacking the house of the editor of a federal paper (from which they were repulsed by firearms), and keeping the New England capital in a disturbed state for several days. Philadelphia merchants, on the contrary, in large numbers, signed a memorial taking ground in favor of the treaty. This was imitated elsewhere, and these memorials went into the house of representatives with the denunciatory petitions.

In the midst of all this storm, Washington remained calm, with his hand firmly resting upon the helm of state, and his eye steadily fixed upon the great compass and chart of integrity by which his course was always determined. In a reply to a friendly letter from General Knox, who assured him of a changing opinion in New England in favor of the treaty, he said:—

“Next to a conscientious discharge of my public duties, to carry along with me the approbation of my constituents would be the highest gratification my mind is susceptible of; but, the latter being secondary, I can not make the former yield to it, unless some criterion more infallible than partial (if they are not party) meetings can be discovered, as the touchstone of public sentiment. If any power on earth could, or the great Power above would, erect the standard of infallibility in political opinions, there is no being that inhabits this terrestrial globe that would resort to it with more eagerness than myself, so long as I remain a servant of the public. But as I have found no better guide, hitherto, than upright intentions and close investigation, I shall adhere to those maxims while I keep the watch, leaving it to those who will come after me to explore new ways, if they like or think them better.”

During the autumn, while these public discussions were at their height, Washington was called upon to reconstruct his cabinet on account of the resignation of Randolph, the secretary of state, and the death of Bradford, the attorney-general, both events having occurred in August. The president found some difficulty in filling Randolph's place. “In the appointment of the great officers of government,” Washington wrote to Colonel Carrington in October, “my aim has been to combine geographical situation, and sometimes other considerations, with abilities and fitness of known characters.” He had offered the place successively to Judge Paterson, of New Jersey, Thomas Johnson, of Maryland, Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, of South Carolina, and Patrick Henry, of Virginia; but they all declined. In his letter to Henry, who, it was understood, was not very well pleased with the treaty, Washington said:—

“I persuade myself, sir, it has not escaped your observation that a crisis is approaching, that must, if it can not be arrested, soon decide whether order and good government shall be preserved, or anarchy and confusion ensue. I can most religiously aver, I have no wish that is incompatible with the dignity, happiness, and true interest of the people of this country. My ardent desire is, and my aim has been, as far as depended upon the executive department, to comply strictly with all our engagements, foreign and domestic; but to keep the United States free from political connection with every other country, to see them independent of all, and under the influence of none. In a word, I want an American character, that the powers of Europe may be convinced we act for ourselves, and not for others. This, in my judgment, is the only way to be respected abroad and happy at home; and not, by becoming the partisans of Great Britain or France, create dissentions, disturb the public tranquillity, and destroy, perhaps for ever, the cement which binds the Union.”

After considerable delay, Colonel Pickering was transferred to the department of state, and James M'Henry, of Maryland, was appointed secretary of war. At the close of November, Charles Lee, of Virginia, accepted the office of attorney-general, as the successor of Bradford, and at the opening of Congress the cabinet was in working order, with apparently harmonious elements.

It was during these political agitations that George Washington Lafayette, a son of the marquis, arrived in the United States, to claim an asylum at the hands of Washington. He could not have appeared at a more inopportune moment; for political reasons rendered it inexpedient for the president, as such, to receive him; and to place him in his family might cause perplexities, connected with political affairs, prejudicial to the public tranquillity.

We have already noticed the flight of Lafayette from France before the fury of Jacobin fanaticism, and his incarceration in an Austrian dungeon, while his family were left to be the sport of fortune. In that dungeon the marquis was confined almost three years, in a cell three paces broad and five and a half long, containing no other ornament than two French verses which rhymed with the words “to suffer and to die.” And yet his great soul went out to his suffering fellow-man as free as the air of heaven; and with a toothpick (for he was deprived of pen and ink) he wrote to a princess, who sympathized with him, on a scrap of paper which came to him almost miraculously, and with soot and water, these noble words: “I know not what disposition has been made of my plantation at Cayenne, but I hope Madame Lafayette will take care that the negroes who cultivate it shall preserve their liberty.” He had set them all free.

The marchioness, as soon as she was allowed the privilege, hastened to Olmutz with her daughters to share the dungeon with the husband and father; while their son, whom they had named in honor of their illustrious friend, came to the United States with his tutor, M. Frestel, consigned to the fatherly care of Washington. Young Lafayette was then about seventeen years of age.

The two exiles arrived at Boston at the close of the summer of 1795, and they immediately sent information of the fact to the president, who was just on the point of leaving Philadelphia for Mount Vernon. Washington's first impulse was to take the young man to his bosom and cherish him as a son; but, as we have observed, grave reasons of state denied him that pleasure. After brief reflection, he sent the letters of the exiles, to Senator Cabot, of Boston, saying:—

“To express all the sensibility which has been excited in my breast by the receipt of young Lafayette's letter, from the recollection of his father's merits, services and sufferings, from my friendship for him, and from my wishes to become a friend and father to his son, is unnecessary.”[87] Let me in a few words declare that I will be his friend; but the manner of becoming so, considering the obnoxious light in which his father is viewed by the French government, and my own situation as the executive of the United States, requires more time to consider, in all its relations, than I can bestow on it at present, the letters not having been in my hands more than an hour, and I myself on the point of setting out for Virginia to fetch my family back, whom I left there about the first of August.

“The mode, which at the first view strikes me as the most eligible to answer his purposes and to save appearances, is, first, to administer all the consolation to the young gentleman that he can derive from the most unequivocal assurances of my standing in the place of, and becoming to him, a father, friend, protector, and supporter. But, secondly, for prudential motives, as they relate to myself, his mother and friends whom he has left behind, and to my official character, it would be best not to make these sentiments public; and of course it would be ineligible that he should come to the seat of the general government, where all the foreign characters (particularly those of his own nation) are residents, until it is seen what opinions will be excited by his arrival; especially, too, as I shall be necessarily absent five or six weeks from it, on business in several places. Thirdly, considering how important it is to avoid idleness and dissipation, to improve his mind, and to give him all the advantages which education can bestow, my opinion and my advice to him are, if he is qualified for admission, that he should enter as a student in the university in Cambridge, although it should be for a short time only; the expense of which, as also for every other means for his support, I will pay.... Let me pray you, my dear sir, to impress upon young Lafayette's mind, and indeed upon that of his tutor, that the reasons why I do not urge him to come to me have been frankly related, and that their prudence must appreciate them with caution. My friendship for his father, so far from being diminished, has increased in the ratio of his misfortunes; and my inclination to serve the son will be evidenced by my conduct.”

General Knox, then in Boston, took much interest in the young Lafayette. In a letter to Washington, on the twenty-first of September, he said, “He goes by the name of Motier [a family name of his father], concealing his real name, lest some injury should arise to his mother, or to a young Mr. Russell of this town, now in France, who assisted in his escape.” Knox spoke of the exile as “a lovely young man, of excellent morals and conduct.”

Mr. Cabot readily undertook the duty solicited by Washington. He found Lafayette and his tutor in much perplexity. The attempt at concealment was futile. “Already M. Motier is known to too many persons,” wrote Mr. Cabot, “and a public festival announced by the French consul for Monday next, at which all their citizens in this vicinity are expected to attend, occasions serious embarrassments; to which is added, that some circumstances of delicacy relative to the family in which they are placed, make an immediate removal proper.” He further informed him that they were about to depart for New York, where they expected to be accommodated in the country-house of a French gentleman, their friend, where they would remain in retirement, until they should receive further directions from Washington. Mr. Cabot gave them letters to Colonel Wadsworth and Colonel Hamilton, and they departed.

In November, soon after his return to Philadelphia, Washington wrote an affectionate letter to young Lafayette, in which, after telling him the causes which rendered it necessary for them both to be circumspect, and desiring him to repair with his tutor to Colonel Hamilton, in the city of New York, who would see that they were well provided for, he said:—

“How long the causes which have withheld you from me may continue, I am not able at this moment to decide; but be assured of my wishes to embrace you, so soon as they shall have ceased, and that, whenever the period arrives, I shall do it with fervency. In the meantime, let me begin with fatherly advice to you to apply closely to your studies, that the season of your youth may be improved to the utmost, that you may be found the deserving son of a meritorious father.” To M. Frestel, Washington wrote at the same time, after directing him to read his letter to his pupil: “To the above I shall just add, that, as the preceptor and friend of M. de Lafayette, I pray you to count upon my attentions and friendship, and learn that it is my expectation that you will accompany him in whatever situation he may be placed; and moreover that you will let me know, at all times, what he has occasion for.”

The Congress at length took official notice of the presence of the son of Lafayette; and on the eighteenth of March, 1796, the house of representatives passed the following resolution and order:—

“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 the 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 the 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.”

This letter, and the resolutions of the house of representatives, young Lafayette forwarded to President Washington, and asked his advice as to the course he should pursue. Washington advised him to come to Philadelphia at the opening of the next session of Congress, occupy a room in his house, but to avoid society as much as possible. He complied, and remained in Philadelphia until the following spring, when Washington, on becoming a private citizen, embraced the son of his friend as if he had been his own child, and bore him to his home on the Potomac. There he remained until early in October, when the joyful news of the release of his father from confinement, and his restoration to his country and friends, caused him to leave for the seaboard to depart for France. He and M. Frestel sailed from New York on the twenty-sixth of October, 1797.

As young Lafayette was about to leave Mount Vernon, Washington placed a letter in his hands for his father, in which he said:—

“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.”[88]

FOOTNOTES:

[86] Randall's Life of Jefferson, ii, 268.

[87] The late Richard Rush relates an interesting incident, illustrative of the feelings of Washington on account of the misfortunes of his noble friend. Mr. Bradford, the attorney-general, who lived directly opposite the residence of Washington, was spending an evening with the president, when the conversation reverted to Lafayette. Washington spoke with great seriousness, contrasted the marquis's hitherto splendid career with that of his present forlorn and suffering condition; and at length became so deeply affected that his eyes filled with tears, and his whole great soul was stirred to its very depths. “Magnanimous tears they were,” says Mr. Rush, “fit for the first of heroes to shed—virtuous, honorable, sanctified!” Mr. Bradford, who deeply sympathized with the feelings of Washington, was much affected at the spectacle, and, retiring to his own house, wrote some simple and touching verses, called the “Lament of Washington.” They were an impromptu effusion from his heart.

[88] See Mount Vernon and its Associations, pages 285-293, inclusive.

CHAPTER XXXI.

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washington's seventh annual message—treaty with the indians—other indian relations—treaty with algiers—treaty with spain—picture of national prosperity—forbearance in congress recommended—responses to the president's message—action of legislatures on the treaty—letter to gouverneur morris—washington's political creed—he is prepared to meet any action of congress—presentation of the french flag to the united states—the french constitution and the national convention—action in congress concerning the french flag.

On the eighth of December, 1795, Washington read his seventh annual address to the assembled Congress. It contained a gratifying summary of the events of the year in which his government and country were concerned. He had the pleasure of informing them officially of the “termination of the long, expensive, and distressing war,” in which the army had been engaged with the Indians of the Northwest Territory, by the treaty made by Wayne at Grenville, to which we have already alluded. That treaty was doubtless more easily consummated, after Wayne's victories, because of the knowledge that the western posts were about to be given up to the United States. By that treaty, a tract of twenty-five thousand square miles was ceded to the United States, lying in one body east of a defined line, and including the eastern and southern part of the present state of Ohio. They also ceded sixteen detached portions of territory in the region westward of that line, most of them two miles square, but several of them much larger. These included the sites of some of our most flourishing villages and cities in the West. As an equivalent for these cessions, the Indians were to receive goods to the amount of twenty thousand dollars in presents, and an annual allowance of articles to the value of nine thousand, five hundred dollars, to be distributed proportionately among the tribes who were parties to the treaty.

“At the exchange of prisoners which took place on this occasion,” (conclusion of the treaty,) says Hildreth, “many affecting incidents occurred. The war as against Kentucky had lasted for almost twenty years, during which period a large number of white people had been carried into captivity. Wives and husbands, parents and children, who had been separated for years, were now restored to each other. Many of the younger captives had quite forgotten their native language, and some of them absolutely refused to leave the savage connections, into whose families they had been taken by adoption.”[89]

The Indian relations on the southwestern frontier were not so satisfactory. Former treaties had been confirmed, and there were signs of permanent peace; but the reckless violence of some of the white settlers, in perpetrating bloody outrages upon the Indians, kept that section of the Union in a state of great inquietude.

In his message, the president announced amicable relations with the new emperor of Morocco, who in a letter had certified his recognition of a treaty made with his father. “With peculiar satisfaction I add,” said Washington, “that information has been received from an agent deputed on our part to Algiers, importing that the terms of a treaty with the dey and regency of that country had been adjusted, in such a manner as to authorize the expectation of a speedy peace, and the restoration of our unfortunate fellow-citizens from a grievous captivity.”

We have already observed the appointment of Colonel Humphreys as the agent to Algiers alluded to. He was then diplomatic agent of the United States at Lisbon. He came home for the special purpose of making arrangements for his negotiation, and returned to Lisbon deputed to purchase a peace of the Barbary powers. From Lisbon, Humphreys proceeded to Paris to confer with Mr. Monroe, and to solicit the mediation of the French government, leaving discretionary powers with Mr. Donaldson, who had accompanied him as consul to Tunis and Tripoli; to conclude a peace upon the best terms to be obtained, when a favorable opportunity should occur. On the fifth of September, 1795, Donaldson signed a treaty, by which, in consideration of the release of the American captives and a guaranty of peace in the future, it was agreed to pay to the dey of Algiers the sum of seven hundred and sixty-three thousand dollars, besides an annual tribute in stores, which, at their real value, amounted to about forty-eight thousand dollars. Besides these sums, a biennial present of nine or ten thousand dollars was required, and twenty thousand more on the appointment of a consul.

The president also announced that Mr. Pinckney, who had been sent on a special mission to Spain concerning the navigation of the Mississippi river, had been successful, the stipulation being that it should be free to both parties throughout its entire length. He believed this would lead the way to the settlement of “a foundation of lasting harmony with a power whose friendship the United States had uniformly and sincerely desired to cultivate.”

The treaty which had caused so much commotion throughout the Union was alluded to in a manner almost as if incidental. “Though not before officially disclosed to the house of representatives,” the president said, “you, gentlemen, are all apprized that a treaty of amity, commerce, and navigation has been negotiated with Great Britain, and that the senate have advised and consented to its ratification upon a condition which excepts part of one article. Agreeably thereto, and to the best judgment I was able to form of the public interest, after full and mature deliberation, I have added my sanction. The result on the part of his Britannic majesty is unknown. When received, the subject will without delay be placed before Congress.”

In contemplation of the general relations of the United States, the president said: “While many of the nations of Europe, with their American dependencies, have been involved in a contest unusually bloody, exhausting, and calamitous, in which the evils of foreign war have been aggravated by domestic convulsion and insurrection, in which many of the arts most useful to society have been exposed to discouragement and decay; in which scarcity of subsistence has embittered other sufferings; while even the anticipations of a return of the blessings of peace and repose are alloyed by the sense of heavy and accumulating burdens, which press upon all the departments of industry, and threaten to clog the future springs of government, our favored country, happy in a striking contrast, has enjoyed general tranquillity—a tranquillity the more satisfactory because maintained at the expense of no duty. Faithful to ourselves, we have violated no obligation to others. Our agriculture, commerce, and manufactures prosper beyond example, the molestations of our trade (to prevent a continuance of which, however, very pointed remonstrances have been made) being overbalanced by the aggregate benefit which derives from a neutral position. Our population advances with a celerity which, exceeding the most sanguine calculations, proportionally augments our strength and resources, and guaranties our future security. Every part of the Union displays indications of rapid and various improvement; and with burdens so light as scarcely to be perceived, with resources fully adequate to our present exigencies, with governments founded on the genuine principles of rational liberty, and with mild and wholesome laws, is it too much to say that our country exhibits a spectacle of national happiness never surpassed, if ever before equalled.”

With such a picture before them, a picture faithful and true in form and coloring, how pitiful must have appeared to the wise, and thoughtful, and generous, those miserable party feuds and personal animosities which disturbed the peace of the commonwealth—mere loathsome cobwebs, spun by selfishness, across a piece of gorgeous tapestry—spots upon the sun of a glorious national career!

Foreseeing the heats of party strife in the national legislature, the president, after commending to their consideration several important objects, counselled temperate discussion, “and mutual forbearance where there may be a difference of opinion.” This advice, always timely, was especially apposite at that time.

The senate gave a cordial response to the message; but the opposition being in the majority in the lower house, a clause in the response reported by a committee appointed to prepare it, in which was expressed “undiminished confidence” in the president, was objected to. The opposition also desired to strike out from the senate's address the expression of a belief that the president's foreign policy was an “enlightened, firm, and persevering endeavor to preserve peace, freedom, and prosperity.” Some members affirmed that their confidence in the president had been very much diminished by “a late transaction” (signing the ratification of Jay's treaty); and that they believed such was the case among the people at large. The address of the representatives was finally, after much debate, recommitted, and the objectionable clause was modified so as to read thus: “In contemplating that spectacle of national happiness which our country exhibits, and of which you, sir, have been pleased to make an interesting summary, permit us to acknowledge and declare the very great share which your zealous and faithful services have contributed to it, and to express the affectionate attachment which we feel for your character.”

Already the legislatures of the different states had taken action on the treaty. Governor Shelby, in his message to the legislature of Kentucky, assailed it as containing stipulations that were unconstitutional. The lower house agreed with him, but the senate would not concur. The Virginia house of delegates approved of the action of their senators in voting against the treaty, and rejected a resolution declaring undiminished confidence in the president. The Maryland legislature denounced the assaults on the president, and declared their “unabated reliance on his integrity, judgment, and patriotism.” The Pennsylvania senate took similar action; and the legislature of New Hampshire denounced the seditious declaimers against the treaty and the administration. North Carolina would not stand by Virginia in her action; but the South Carolina legislature declared the treaty “highly injurious to the general interests of the United States.” The matter was not acted upon by the senate, however, and the subject was not again taken up. The legislature of Delaware approved of the treaty; while Governor Samuel Adams, in his address to the general court of Massachusetts, spoke of the treaty as “pregnant with evil.” The Massachusetts senate considered any action on the subject as an interference with the powers delegated to the general government; while the house, by a decided vote, suggested that “respectful submission on the part of the people to the constituted authorities,” was “the surest means of enjoying and perpetuating the invaluable blessings of our free and representative government.” Rhode Island approved of the action of the senate and the chief magistrate; and in New York, as well as in Rhode Island and Massachusetts, a proposition made by resolutions in the Virginia legislature, that the constitution of the United States should be so amended as to admit the house of representatives to a share in the treaty-making power, and otherwise abridging the powers of the government, was rejected or laid on the table.

The tardiness of the British government in the performance of its acts of justice toward the United States, and the present apparent hesitation in ratifying the treaty, perplexed Washington; for this seeming unfriendliness was used as a weapon by the opposition. Accordingly, toward the close of the year, he attempted to remind that government of its duty, in an unofficial way, through Gouverneur Morris, who, having been succeeded by Mr. Monroe as minister to the French republic, was now in England, and on quite intimate terms with Lord Grenville and other ministers, and members of the privy council. In a letter to Morris, on the twenty-second of December, after giving at much length a narrative of the causes of complaint against the British government, Washington said:—

“I give you these details (and if you should again converse with Lord Grenville on the subject, you are at liberty unofficially to mention them, or any of them, according to circumstances) as evidences of the impolitic conduct of the British government towards these United States, that it may be seen how difficult it has been for the executive, under such an accumulation of irritating circumstances, to maintain the ground of neutrality which had been taken; and at a time when the remembrance of the aid we had received from France in the Revolution was fresh in every mind, and while the partisans of that country were continually contrasting the affections of that people with the unfriendly disposition of the British government. And that, too, as I have observed before, while their own sufferings during the war with the latter had not been forgotten.

“It is well known that peace has been (to borrow a modern phrase) the order of the day with me since the disturbances in Europe first commenced. My policy has been, and will continue to be while I have the honor to remain in the administration, to maintain friendly terms with, but be independent of, all the nations of the earth; to share in the broils of none; to fulfil our own engagements; to supply the wants and be carriers for them all, being thoroughly convinced that it is our policy and interest to do so. Nothing short of self-respect, and that justice which is so essential to a national character, ought to involve us in war; for sure I am, if this country is preserved in tranquillity twenty years longer, it may bid defiance in a just career to any power whatever; such, in that time, will be its population, wealth, and resources....

“In a government as free as ours, where the people are at liberty and will express their sentiments (oftentimes imprudently, and, for want of information, sometimes unjustly), allowances must be made for occasional effervescences; but, after the declaration I have here made of my political creed, you can run no hazard in asserting that the executive branch of this government never has suffered, nor will suffer while I preside, any improper conduct of its officers to escape with impunity, nor give its sanction to any disorderly proceedings of its citizens.

“By a firm adherence to these principles, and to the neutral policy which has been adopted, I have brought on myself a torrent of abuse in the factious papers of this country, and from the enmity of the discontented of all descriptions. But, having no sinister objects in view, I shall not be diverted from my course by these, nor any attempts which are or shall be made to withdraw the confidence of my constituents from me. I have nothing to ask; and, discharging my duty, I have nothing to fear from invective. The acts of my administration will appear when I am no more, and the intelligent and candid part of mankind will not condemn my conduct without recurring to them.”

Fortified by such conscious rectitude, Washington was well prepared to meet whatever action the supreme legislature of his country might take concerning the great question at issue.

We have already observed the cordial reception of Mr. Monroe by the French government, and the decree of the National Convention that the respective flags of the American and French republics should be united and suspended in their hall, as a token of eternal friendship between the two nations. Mr. Monroe, it will be remembered, reciprocated this generous feeling, by presenting to the Assembly the flag of the United States. When, afterward, Mr. Adet came to America as the successor of Fauchet, the French minister, he bore a letter from the Committee of Safety to the Congress, and the banner of the French republic for the government of the United States. He arrived in the summer of 1795, when the whole country was in a ferment respecting the treaty with Great Britain; and partly on that account, but chiefly because he supposed his communication on the subject of the flag must be made to the Congress direct, he did not announce to the president that complimentary portion of his mission until late in December. Adet had then been made aware that the presentation of the colors to the government must be made through the president only; and as that presentation would be an occasion for rejoicing, because of a friendly feeling between the two nations, Washington appointed the first of January, 1796—“a day of general joy and congratulation”—as the time when he would receive the token of amity.

1796

The colors of France were presented to the president for his country, together with the letter of the French Committee of Safety to the Congress, at Washington's residence, in the presence of a large number of distinguished characters. Adet, in a speech on the occasion, presented in glowing colors the position of France as the great dispensatory of free opinions in the old world—as “struggling not only for her own liberty, but for that of the human race. Assimilated to, or rather identified with, free people by the form of her government,” he said, “she saw in them only friends and brothers. Long accustomed to regard the American people as her most faithful allies, she sought to draw closer the ties already formed in the fields of America, under the auspices of victory, over the ruins of tyranny.”

A reply to this address, under the peculiar circumstances in which Washington was placed, required the exercise of much discretion. It was necessary to express generous feelings adapted to the occasion, without the utterance of sentiments, concerning the powers then at war, inconsistent with the position of neutrality which the United States had assumed. The president accordingly said:—

“Born, sir, in a land of liberty; having early learned its value; having engaged in a perilous conflict to defend it; having, in a word, devoted the best years of my life to its permanent establishment in my own country, my anxious recollections, my sympathetic feelings, and my best wishes, are irresistibly attracted wheresoever, in any country, I see an oppressed nation unfurl the banners of freedom. But, above all, the events of the French Revolution have produced the deepest solicitude, as well as the highest admiration. To call your nation brave, were to pronounce but common praise. Wonderful people! Ages to come will read with astonishment the history of your brilliant exploits. I rejoice that the period of your toils and your immense sacrifices is approaching. I rejoice that the interesting revolutionary movements of so many years have issued in the formation of a constitution,[90] designed to give permanency to the great object for which you have contended. I rejoice that liberty, which you have so long embraced with enthusiasm—liberty, of which you have been the invincible defenders—now finds an asylum in the bosom of a regularly organized government; a government which, being formed to secure the happiness of the French people, corresponds with the ardent wishes of my heart, while it gratifies the pride of every citizen of the United States by its resemblance to their own. On these glorious events, accept, sir, my sincere congratulations.

“In delivering to you these sentiments, I express not my own feelings only, but those of my fellow-citizens, in relation to the commencement, the progress, and the issue of the French Revolution; and they will certainly join with me in purest wishes to the Supreme Being, that the citizens of our sister-republic, our magnanimous allies, may soon enjoy in peace that liberty which they have purchased at so great a price, and all the happiness that liberty can bestow.

“I receive, sir, with lively sensibility the symbol of the triumphs and of the enfranchisements of your nation, the colors of France, which you have now presented to the United States. The transaction will be announced to Congress, and the colors will be deposited with the archives of the United States, which are at once the evidence and the memorials of their freedom and independence. May these be perpetual, and may the friendship of the two republics be commensurate with their existence!”

Washington transmitted to Congress the letter from the Committee of Safety, the French colors, and copies of the speeches of Adet and himself at the presentation, on the fourth of January; whereupon, the house of representatives, by resolution, requested the president to make known to the representatives of the French people “the most sincere and lively sensibility” which was excited by this honorable testimony of the existing sympathy and affections of the two republics; that the house rejoiced “in the opportunity thereby afforded to congratulate the French nation upon the brilliant and glorious achievements” which they had accomplished during the present afflictive war; and hoped that those achievements would be attended with a perfect attainment of their object, and “the permanent establishment of the liberty and happiness of a great and magnanimous people.”

On the sixth of January, the senate also passed resolutions expressive of the pleasure they felt on the reception of this evidence of the continued friendship of the French republic, and of a desire that the “symbol of the triumphs and enfranchisement of that great people,” as expressed by Washington in his reply to the French minister, might contribute to cherish and perpetuate the sincere affection by which the two republics were so happily united. It was at first proposed, in a resolution offered in the senate, that the president should communicate the sentiments of that body to the proper organ of the French government; but this was opposed, because, it was said, the complimentary correspondence between the two nations had reached a point where, if ever, it ought to cease. This amendment was carried by a strict party vote.

FOOTNOTES:

[89] History of the United States, second series, i, 566.

[90] The letter brought by Adet was from the Committee of Safety, which, under the revolutionary system in France, was the department charged with foreign intercourse. After his departure a new order of things was established. On the thirty-first of May, 1795, the revolutionary tribunal was, by a decree of the National Convention, abolished in France. On the twenty-third of June, a committee, appointed for the purpose, presented the draft of a new constitution, modelled in many respects after that of the United States. The reading of it, which occupied several hours, was frequently interrupted by the loudest bursts of applause. At the conclusion, it was decreed that the discussion of the instrument should be opened on the fourth of July. On the sixth of September, the people of France met in primary assemblies for the purpose of accepting or rejecting the new constitution. The armies of the eastern and western Pyrenees accepted it on that day, and so did a great majority of the French nation. The result was announced in the convention on the tenth of September, with information that two thirds of the members of that body had been re-elected. In consequence of that acceptance, a dreadful riot broke out in Paris on the sixth of October, which lasted several days; but the insurgents were finally overpowered by the convention troops. Many persons were slain on both sides, and ringleaders of the riot were soon afterward executed.

The French constitution established an Executive Directory, composed of five members, who ruled in connection with two legislative chambers, called respectively The Council of Ancients, and the Council of Five Hundred. The directory were formally installed at the Luxembourg, in Paris, on the first of November, 1795. On the same day a pen-picture of the convention was published at Paris, signed Real. “The convention,” he said, “has terminated its sittings. Where is the Tacitus who shall write the history of its glorious actions and its abominable excesses? Obscure men, sent to devise laws, have during a dictation of three years displayed an energy, a greatness, and a ferocity, which no longer allow us to envy either the virtues of ancient Rome or the wild atrocities of the first Cesars. Physicians, lawyers, and attorneys' clerks, became suddenly professed legislators, and warriors full of boldness. They have overturned all Europe, and changed its system.

“With a daring hand they have signed the death-warrant of the successor of an hundred kings, and in one day broken the sceptre for which an existence of fourteen centuries had procured a religious and fanatical veneration. On that day they threw down the gauntlet before astonished Europe; and William the Conqueror, when he burnt his fleet, did not place himself with more audaciousness between victory and death. Without money, without credit, without arms, artillery, saltpetre, and armies; betrayed by Dumorier; Valenciennes being taken by the Austrians; Toulon in the hands of the English; the king of Prussia under the walls of Landau, and a country of ninety leagues extent devoured by one hundred and fifty thousand Vendeans, they published a decree, and on a sudden all France became a vast manufactory of arms and saltpetre; one million, four hundred thousand men sprang up ready armed; the king of Prussia was defeated near Landau, the Austrians repulsed near Maubenge, the English routed near Hondschoote, the Vendeans annihilated at Lavenay, and the tri-colored flag was hoisted on the walls of Toulon.

“Their folly disconcerted the wisdom of ancient politics; songs and the charging step defeated the celebrated tactics of the Germans; generals just left the ranks—obscure generals, who but a few months before were simple sergeants—conceived and executed the plan of the campaign of 1795 which will always remain the admiration of military men, and defeated the most celebrated generals, the pupils and companions of the great Frederick. Holland was conquered in January by the inexperienced troops; and what Louis XIV, in the zenith of his glory, did not dare to conceive, the French, by founding a republic, have carried into effect, and planted the tri-colored standard on the banks of the Rhine.

“It is amidst this long tempest, amidst proscriptions and scaffolds, this dreadful convention has opened the road to glory; after having desolated the world, it has exhausted against itself its devouring energy. Two parties, by turns victorious and vanquished, have been sent to the scaffold by a third, which, embracing always the cause of the strongest, preserved itself by sometimes striking against the mountain, sometimes against the plain.

“Voracious men! your pernicious versatility has produced all the evils which have devastated France; your wickedness, which you call wisdom, has overflowed my native land with blood; and posterity will ask, with wonder, 'What was the political opinion of those who condemned Danton, Brissot, Lacroix, and Ducos; who advised with Robespierre and Lanjunais, Billaud de Varennes, and Barrere?' Voracious men! you will be despised by the present generation, and detested by posterity. Convention! the murders and atrocities which thy reign has produced will be handed down to posterity, and will not be credited.”

Such was a life-picture, drawn by a master-hand, of the men and the government with whose operations the leaders of a strong party in the United States endeavored with mad zeal, for three years, to involve their own government; a catastrophe prevented only, so far as human agency was concerned, by the fearless courage and profound wisdom of Washington in maintaining neutrality.

CHAPTER XXXII.

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return of jay's treaty—it is proclaimed to be the law of the land—the opposition offended—house of representatives call upon the president for all papers relating to the treaty—debates thereon—action of the cabinet—the president's reply—he refuses to accede to the call of the house—consideration of his refusal in the house of representatives—blount's resolutions—debates on the treaty—speeches of madison, gallatin, and ames—effect of ames's speech—decision of the committee of the whole house—final vote.

The treaty with Great Britain, ratified by King George, was returned to the United States government in February, much to the relief of its friends, and indeed of all parties. “We are wasting our time in the most insipid manner, waiting for the treaty,” wrote John Adams to his wife on the tenth of January. “Nothing of any consequence will be done till that arrives, and is mauled and abused, and then acquiesced in. For the antis must be more numerous than I believe them, and made of sterner stuff than I conceive, if they dare hazard the surrender of the posts and the payment for spoliations, by any resolution of the house that shall render precarious the execution of the treaty on our part.”

The federal constitution declaring a treaty, when duly ratified by the contracting powers, to be the law of the land, Washington, on the last day of February, issued a proclamation announcing the one just concluded with Great Britain, as such. This had been a mooted point. The president's proclamation decided that the treaty was law without further action of Congress; and it now remained for that body to make provision for carrying it into effect. The president sent it to both houses on the first day of March, with the following brief message:—

“The treaty of amity, commerce, and navigation concluded between the United States and his Britannic majesty having been duly ratified, and the ratifications having been exchanged at London on the twenty-eighth of October, one thousand, seven hundred and ninety-five, I have directed the same to be promulgated, and herewith transmit a copy thereof for the information of Congress.”

This action was the signal for both parties to prepare for a great struggle. The opposition, who had openly denied the right of the president to even negotiate a treaty of commerce, because, they said, it practically gave to the executive and senate the power to regulate commerce, were highly offended because the president had ventured to issue this proclamation before the sense of the house of representatives had been declared on the obligations of the instrument. This feeling assumed tangible form when, on the seventh of March, Edward Livingston, of New York, offered a resolution calling upon the president for copies of all papers relating to the treaty. This resolution, as modified on motion of Madison, was as follows:—

“Resolved, That the president of the United States be requested to lay before this house a copy of the instructions given to the minister of the United States, who negotiated the treaty with Great Britain, communicated by his message of the first instant, together with the correspondence and documents relating to the said treaty, excepting such of said papers as any existing negotiation may render improper to be disclosed.”

A warm debate immediately arose, and speedily took the form of a discussion on the nature and extent of the treaty-making power. “The friends of the administration maintained,” says Marshall, “that a treaty was a contract between two nations, which, under the constitution, the president, by and with the advice and consent of the senate, had a right to make; and that it was made when, by and with such advice and consent, it had received his final act. Its obligations then became complete on the United States, and to refuse to comply with its stipulations was to break the treaty and to violate the faith of the nation.

“The opposition contended that the power to make treaties, if applicable to every object, conflicted with powers which were vested exclusively in Congress. That either the treaty-making power must be limited in its operations, so as not to touch objects committed by the constitution to Congress, or the assent and co-operation of the house of representatives must be required to give validity to any compact, so far as it might comprehend those objects. A treaty, therefore, which required an appropriation of money or any act of Congress to carry it into effect, had not acquired its obligatory form until the house of representatives had exercised its powers in the case. They were at full liberty to make, or to withhold, such appropriation, or other law, without incurring the imputation of violating any existing obligation, or breaking the faith of the nation.”[91]

At the outset, a member had inquired the object of Mr. Livingston's motion, since on that would depend its propriety. It was contended, that if the impeachment of either Mr. Jay or the president was intended, it was a proper motion; but not so if the constitutionality of the treaty was to be questioned, because that must depend on the treaty itself. It was further inquired whether the house proposed to consider whether a better treaty might not have been made. Mr. Livingston did not disavow either of the objects suggested, but stated as his principal reason, a firm conviction that the house was vested with a discretionary power, allowing it to carry the treaty into execution or not. This consideration was made the chief point in the debate, in which Albert Gallatin took a leading part in favor of the resolution, well supported by Madison, Livingston, Giles, and Baldwin, and others of less note. It was opposed by Smith, of South Carolina, Murray, Harper, Hillhouse, and others. About thirty speeches on either side were made, and the debate did not terminate until the twenty-fourth of the month.

During this debate, the eloquent Fisher Ames was a member of the house, but was compelled by ill health to be silent. It was a great trial for the patriot, for he saw the need of soldiers for the contest. He had been, from the beginning, a warm friend of the government; and now, at what he deemed a crisis, he wished to lift up his voice in defence of its measures. To a friend in Springfield he wrote on the ninth of March, saying:—

“I sit now in the house; and, that I may not lose my temper and my spirits, I shut my ears against the sophisms and rant against the treaty, and divert my attention by writing to you.

“Never was there a time when I so much desired the full use of my faculties, and it is the very moment when I am prohibited even attention. To be silent, neutral, useless, is a situation not to be envied. I almost wish ***** was here, and I at home, sorting squash and pumpkin seeds for planting.

“It is a new post for me to be in. I am not a sentry, not in the ranks, not in the staff. I am thrown into the wagon as part of the baggage. I am like an old gun that is spiked or the trunnions knocked off, and yet am carted off, not for the worth of the old iron, but to balk the enemy of a trophy. My political life is ended, and I am the survivor of myself, or rather the troubled ghost of a politician, that am condemned to haunt the field of battle where I fell. Whether the government will long outlive me is doubtful. I know it is sick, and, many of the physicians say, of a mortal disease. A crisis now exists, the most serious I ever witnessed, and the more dangerous because it is not dreaded. Yet, I confess, if we should navigate the federal ship through this strait, and get out again into the open sea, we shall have a right to consider the chance of our government as mended. We shall have a lease for years—say four or five; not a freehold—certainly not a fee simple.

“How will the Yankees feel and act when the day of trial comes? It is not, I fear, many weeks off. Will they let the casuists quibble away the very words, and adulterate the generous spirit of the constitution? When a measure passes by the proper authorities, shall it be stopped by force? Sophistry may change the form of the question, may hide some of the consequences, and may dupe some into an opinion of its moderation when triumphant; yet the fact will speak for itself. The government can not go to the halves. It would be another, a worse government, if the mob, or the leaders of the mob in Congress,[92] can stop the lawful acts of the president, and unmake a treaty. It would be, either no government, or instantly a government of usurpation and wrong.... I think we shall beat our opponents in the end, but the conflict will light up a fierce war.”

Ames grew stronger; and at length, in the final debate in Congress upon the subject of the treaty, his eloquence was heard, like the tones of a trumpet, and with great effect, as we shall presently observe.

Livingston's motion was carried, on the twenty-fourth of March, by the decisive vote of sixty-two to thirty-seven. A committee of the house, deputed for the purpose, carried the vote to the president, who replied that he would take the request into consideration. He immediately summoned a cabinet council, and laid the matter before them in the form of two queries; first, on the right of the house, under the circumstances, to make such a call; and secondly, whether it would be expedient to furnish the papers, even though the belief might be entertained that the house had no right to call for them. He also referred the matter to Colonel Hamilton for his opinion.

The cabinet members were unanimous in opinion, that he ought not to comply with the requisitions of the house. Each of them stated, in writing, the grounds of his opinion; and Chief-Justice Ellsworth, who had lately been appointed to the bench of the supreme court of the United States, had, while the debate was in progress, drawn up an opinion coincident with the views of Washington and his cabinet. Hamilton also transmitted to the president a long and able paper, in which, with his usual force of unanswerable logic, he sustained the action of the cabinet, and fortified the president's views. In acknowledging the receipt of this paper on the thirty-first of March, the president said:—

“I had from the first moment, and from the fullest conviction in my own mind, resolved to resist the principle, which was evidently intended to be established by the call of the house of representatives; and only deliberated on the manner in which this could be done with the least bad consequences. To effect this, three modes presented themselves. First, a denial of the papers in toto, assigning concise but cogent reasons for that denial; secondly, to grant them in whole; or, thirdly, in part; accompanied in both the last-mentioned cases with a pointed protest against the right of the house to control treaties, or to call for papers without specifying their object, and against the compliance being drawn into a precedent.

“I had as little hesitation in deciding that the first was the most tenable ground; but, from the peculiar circumstances of the case, it merited consideration, if the principle could be saved, whether facility in the provision might not result from a compliance. An attentive examination of the subject and papers, however, soon convinced me that to furnish all the papers would be highly improper, and that a partial delivery of them would leave the door open for as much calumny as a refusal of them altogether; perhaps more, as it might, and I have no doubt would, be said that all such as were essential to the purposes of the house were withheld.

“Under these impressions, I proceeded, with the heads of departments and the attorney-general, to collect materials, and to prepare an answer, subject, however, to revision and change according to circumstances. This was ready on Monday, and proposed to be sent in on Tuesday; but it was delayed until I should hear from you, which happened on that day about noon. This induced a further postponement until yesterday, notwithstanding the apparent and anxious solicitude, which was visible in all quarters, to learn the result of the application.

“Finding that the draft which I had prepared embraced the most if not all the principles, which were detailed in yours of yesterday, though not the reasonings; that it would take considerable time to copy yours; and, above all, having understood that if the papers were refused, a fresh demand with strictures on my conduct was to be expected, I sent in the answer, which was ready, and have reserved yours, as a copious resource, in case the matter should go any further.”[93]

Washington gave a decided negative to the request of the house. It appears to have been unexpected. The opposition were not prepared for such boldness and firmness on the part of the executive, and it “appeared to break,” says Marshall, “the last cord of that attachment which had theretofore bound some of the active leaders of the opposition to the person of the president.” Amid all the excitements of party contests, there was real affection and respect for Washington on the part of those who were politically opposed to him; but this act, so much like defiance of the popular will as expressed by the house of representatives, in the eyes of the unreflecting, seemed, for the moment, to extinguish every lingering spark of affection in the bosom of his old friends, now his political enemies.

After a week's delay, the president's message was taken up in committee of the whole, with two resolutions offered by Blount, of North Carolina, declaratory of the sense of the house respecting its own power on the subject of treaties. These embodied doctrines contrary to those expressed in the message. The first, after disclaiming any pretensions on the part of the house to “any agency in making treaties,” asserted, that “when a treaty stipulated regulations on any of the subjects submitted by the constitution to the power of Congress, it must depend for its execution, as to such stipulations, on a law to be passed by Congress,” and that the house had a right to deliberate on the expediency or inexpediency of such law, and pass or reject it as they might determine. The second resolution asserted, that in applications to the president for information, the house was not bound to specify for what purpose such information was wanted.

These resolutions took a rather less untenable position than had been maintained in argument, and were quite inexplicit on an essential part of the question. After a brief debate, in which Madison was chief speaker in favor of the resolutions, they were adopted by a vote of fifty-seven to thirty-five.

While this exciting subject was before Congress, the treaties with the Indians, with the dey of Algiers, and with Spain respecting the navigation of the Mississippi, had been ratified by the president and senate, and communicated to the house of representatives. It was moved to refer them to the committee of the whole house; but, for several days in succession, the motion was voted down. It was finally carried; and on the thirteenth of April, the moment the committee of the whole was organized by the chairman taking his seat, Mr. Sedgwick, of Massachusetts, arose and moved “that provision ought to be made by law for carrying into effect, with good faith, the treaties lately concluded with the dey and regency of Algiers, the king of Great Britain, the king of Spain, and certain Indian tribes northwest of the Ohio.” The opposition were completely surprised by this unexpected movement, and an angry altercation ensued. They complained loudly of the manner in which an attempt was made to force action upon the four treaties together, and resented what they deemed the ungenerous sharp practice of their opponents, because it was in contravention of the solemn vote of the house lately recorded upon their journals, declaratory of their right to exercise a free discretion over the subject. It was contended, on the other hand, that, as the four treaties formed part of one system, if one was rejected, it might be expedient to reject the others also. After a warm debate, it was agreed to dispose of the other treaties before taking up that with Great Britain. In accordance with this determination, the action of the house on the other treaties was such as not to contradict the claim set up by Blount's resolutions, and they were disposed of without any difficulty.

The treaty with Great Britain was taken up on the fifteenth of April. Its friends, in and out of Congress, supposing that on a subject which had so long agitated the community, the mind of every member was settled, and that an attempt to make converts by either party through debates would be futile, urged an immediate decision of the matter. They felt confident that the majority would not dare to meet the country on such an issue as the withholding of means for the execution of the treaty; but that majority, though knowing they had the power to break the treaty, were unwilling to do so without first embracing an opportunity for giving satisfactory reasons for their action. They therefore called for discussion. “The expectation,” says Marshall, “might not unreasonably be entertained, that the passions belonging to the subject would be so inflamed by debate as to produce the expression of a public sentiment favorable to their wishes; and if in this they should be disappointed, it would be certainly unwise, either as a party or as a branch of the legislature, to plunge the nation into embarrassments in which it was not disposed to entangle itself, and from which the manner of extricating it could not be distinctly perceived.”

The friends of the treaty did not shrink from discussion; and the debate, which lasted a fortnight, was opened by Madison with a speech, elaborate in its details and carefully prepared. He maintained that there was the grossest want of reciprocity exhibited in that part of the treaty that related to the settlement of disputes growing out of the compact of 1783. The British, he asserted, got all they asked—the debts due their merchants with damages in the shape of interest. We got nothing, he said, for the valuable negroes carried away, and we received nothing for damages accruing from the long detention of the western posts. And they, he said, were received with conditions respecting the Indian trade which made them almost useless to us, as to influence over the savage tribes, in which alone their greatest value consisted; and he considered the agreement to pay the American claims for spoliations as no offset for the loss of the negroes.

The same want of reciprocity, he said, prevailed in the portion of the treaty respecting neutral rights and the law of nations. By it we yielded the favorite principle, long ago enunciated, that “free ships make free goods,” and had actually added naval stores and even provisions to the list of contraband articles. He severely animadverted upon the provisions which conceded to British subjects the right to hold lands within the territory of the United States; the stipulation concerning the navigation of the Mississippi; and the permission to open all American ports to British shipping, while our own vessels were excluded from the colonial harbors.

The latter measure, allowing Great Britain to retain her colonial monopoly and preserve intact her colonial system, he denounced as “a phenomenon which had filled him with more surprise than he knew how to express.” And more vehement than all, because it interfered with his favorite scheme of commercial coercion, was Madison's denunciations of the provisions which prevented the Americans from retaliating upon the British, in the event of their making commercial restrictions to our disadvantage by further discriminations. He concluded with scouting the idea that war would ensue if the treaty should be rejected, because the hostilities England were then waging with France were quite as much as she was able to manage at that time.

Madison's speech alarmed the country, especially the sensitive mercantile classes, for whose losses, by spoliations, the treaty made provision, and those who were dependant upon trade, because they feared its influence in causing the inexecution of the treaty, and consequent war with Great Britain, by which their interests would be seriously effected. Other classes were also alarmed; indeed, all who loved peace and deprecated quarrels, much less physical contests, with other nations, trembled for the fate of the treaty. The country was violently agitated. Public meetings were held in all parts of the United States, and the strength of parties was once more fully tried. Petitions were sent in to Congress from all the great marts of business in the country in favor of ratification; while counter meetings were held and counter petitions were sent in from various places. Insurance against captures on the high seas could no longer be obtained for vessels or goods; and a sudden blow was given to commerce, which threatened financial ruin.

To add to the confusion, Bond, the British chargé des affaires, had intimated, that if the house of representatives, refused the necessary appropriation to carry the treaty into effect, the western posts would not be given up at the stipulated time, now near at hand. He also took that occasion to insist upon an explanatory article concerning a clause in Wayne's treaty with the Indians, by which they had agreed to allow no trader to reside among them, unless licensed by the authorities of the United States; for it seemed to be in contradiction with the provisions of the treaty under consideration, a mutual free-trade with the Indian tribes being guarantied thereby. This menace and this demand created much irritation; yet it did not in the least affect the tide of popular sentiment in favor of the treaty which was continually rising. This fact was clearly discerned by both parties, and the friends of the treaty protracted the debate, in order that, before the vote should be taken, public opinion might be so expressed, as to have an omnipotent effect in its favor.

At this moment, when the debate had been going on for several days and the spirit of the opposition began to flag, Albert Gallatin came to the support of his party, in a speech which at once gave him the position of republican leader in the house, the honor of which had been divided between Madison and Giles, of Virginia. Gallatin was a native of Geneva, in Switzerland, and then only thirty years of age. He had been only eleven years in the country, two of which he had served the people of his adoption in a military capacity. After the Revolution he established himself on the Monongahela, in western Pennsylvania, where his talents soon caused him to be called into public life. He was engaged, as we have seen, in the Whiskey Insurrection, but with patriotic intentions, as he alleged; and by a large popular vote he was elected to a seat in the house of representatives. Although a foreign accent was plainly visible when he spoke, he was so fluent in language, so earnest in manner, and so logical in argument, that his youth and foreign birth were forgotten for the moment, and he was listened to with the greatest pleasure.

Gallatin had heard the speeches on both sides with marked attention, and was prepared to take new ground in his own. Quoting from Vattel on the law of nations, he went on to show that slaves, being real estate, were not a subject of booty, but, on the restoration of peace, fell back to their former owners, like the soil to which they were attached. He attempted to excite, evidently for party purposes, sectional hatred by declaring that while the rights of the South and West had been sacrificed by the treaty, in respect to negroes, the Indian trade, and the navigation of the Mississippi, means had been found to protect the commercial interests of the North. With the same breath, however, he denounced the commercial articles of the treaty as utterly worthless, and adroitly charged the senate, by insinuation, with ignorance respecting the East Indian trade, falsely assuming that because the treaty did not, by express provisions, secure the East Indian coasting trade, and the direct voyage from India to Europe by American vessels, that these privileges had been relinquished.

Like Madison, he regarded the provision respecting neutrals as yielding everything to the semi-piratical policy of Great Britain. He contended strenuously for the dishonest measure of sequestration of private debts due to British subjects, as a means of coercion, and condemned that most just provision of the treaty, bearing upon that subject, without stint. While we have promised full indemnity to England, he said, for every possible claim against us, we had abandoned every claim of a doubtful nature, and agreed to receive the western posts under the most degrading restrictions concerning the trade with the Indians. We had gained nothing, he said, by the arrangements respecting trade and navigation, while we had parted with “every pledge in our hands, every power of restriction, every weapon of self-defence.”

He admitted that if this treaty should be rejected, another as favorable might not be obtained; but he argued, that while the United States would lose the western posts and the indemnity for spoliations, they would be pecuniary gainers by escaping the payment of the British debts. He did not wish, nor did his party, an utter rejection of the treaty, but a suspension or postponement of it, until the British should cease their encroachments, and reparations for such wrongs might be obtained. He scouted as utterly chimerical, the idea that war would necessarily follow such postponement, or even a positive rejection; and he treated the menaces of the dissolution of the Union with scorn. He significantly asked, Who will dissolve the government? The opposition majority had no motive for doing it, and he did not believe that the federalists would, at the first failure of their power, revenge themselves by overthrowing the government. He expressed his belief that the people, from one end of the Union to the other, were strongly attached to the constitution, and that they would punish any party or set of men who should attempt to subvert it. He rested in full security on the people, against any endeavor to destroy the Union or the government. He regarded the cry of disunion and of war as designed only to work upon the fears of Congress, and force an acquiescence in the treaty. “It was the fear of being involved in a war,” he said, “that the negotiations with Great Britain had originated; under the impression of fear the treaty had been negotiated and signed; fear had promoted its ratification; and now, every imaginary mischief was conjured up to frighten the house, to deprive it of that discretion which it had the right to exercise, to force it to carry this treaty into effect.” He also charged the merchants of Philadelphia and other seaports[94] with having formed a combination to produce alarm, and to make their efforts more effectual, had also combined to cease insuring vessels, purchasing produce, or transacting any business, to induce the people to join in the attempt to force the house to pass laws for carrying the treaty into effect.”

“To listen calmly to this denunciation of Washington and Jay,” says Hildreth, “as having pusillanimously surrendered the honor of their country—Washington in setting on foot and in ratifying, and Jay in having negotiated, the treaty—coming as it did from the mouth of one whose evident youth and foreign accent might alone serve to betray him as an adventurer, whose arrival in the country could hardly have been long anterior to the termination of the Revolutionary struggle, was somewhat too much for human nature to bear. There was also something a little provoking in the denunciation of the merchants as having conspired to terrify the house, coming from a man who had first obtained general notoriety, it was now hardly four years since, by the publication of his name at the bottom of a series of resolutions, of which the avowed object was to frighten public officers from the discharge of their duty by threats of a social interdict and non-intercourse—a method of proceeding which had ended in violent resistance to the laws and armed insurrection. Nor is it very surprising, all things considered, that many of the federalists were inclined to look on Gallatin as a foreign emissary, a tool of France, and employed and paid to make mischief.”[95]

Tracy, of Connecticut, replied to the most prominent points of Gallatin's speech. He denied that Vattel gave any such opinion as to slaves, as set forth by Gallatin; and called attention to the fact that the British did not refuse to restore them as booty, but because they were men set free by having joined the British standard, that freedom being the chief inducement held out to them. Other points he commented upon with equal force. He warmed with his theme, and at length became severely personal. The opposition, he said, ask, with an air of triumphant complacency, How is there to be war, if we are not disposed to fight, and Great Britain has no motive for hostilities? “But look at the probable state of things,” he continued: “Great Britain is to retain the western posts, and with them, the confidence of the Indians; she makes no compensation for the millions spoliated from our commerce, but adds new millions to our already heavy losses. Would Americans quietly see their government strut, look big, call hard names, repudiate treaties, and then tamely put up with new and aggravated injuries? Whatever might be the case in other parts of the Union, his constituents were not of a temper to dance round a whiskey-pole one day, cursing the government, and to sneak, the next day, into a swamp, on hearing that a military force was marching against them. They knew their rights, and, if the government were unable, or unwilling, to give them protection, they would find other means to secure it. He could not feel thankful to any gentleman for coming all the way from Geneva to accuse Americans of pusillanimity.”

This allusion to Gallatin elicited cries of order from many of the opposition, and for awhile the excitement in the house was intense. The chairman decided that Mr. Tracy was in order, and desired him to go on. He disclaimed any intention to be personal, asked pardon for any improprieties of which he might have been guilty in the heat of debate, and excused himself with the plea, that such charges against the American government and people, from such a source, were naturally very offensive.

Fourteen days had now been occupied with this debate, when Fisher Ames, of Massachusetts, whose feebleness of health had kept him away from the house a part of the session, and made him a quiet spectator until now, arose in his place, and addressed the assemblage on the great subject. It was known that he was to speak on that day (twenty-eighth of April), and the house was crowded with an audience eager to hear the orator. He was pale, tottering, hardly able to stand on his feet, when he first arose, but as he became warmed with the subject, his whole being seemed to gather strength every moment, and he delivered a speech which was never forgotten by those who heard it. It was the great speech of the session, exhibiting a wonderful comprehension of human nature and the springs of political action; logic the most profound; the most biting ridicule, and pathetic eloquence. His speech exhibits such a summary, in its allusions, to the scope of the arguments of the opposition, and throws such light upon the growth and state of parties, that we make long extracts from it.

“The suggestion a few days ago,” he said, “that the house manifested symptoms of heat and irritation, was made and retorted as if the charge ought to create surprise, and would convey reproach. Let us be more just to ourselves and the occasion. Let us not effect to deny the existence and the intrusion of some portion of prejudice and feeling into the debate, when, from the very structure of our own nature, we ought to anticipate the circumstance as a probability; and when we are admonished by the evidence of our senses that it is a fact, how can we make professions for ourselves, and offer exhortations to the house, that no influence should be felt but that of duty, and no guide respected but that of the understanding, while the peal to rally every passion of man is continually ringing in our ears? Our understandings have been addressed, it is true, and with ability and effect; but, I demand, has any corner of the heart been unexplored? It has been ransacked to find auxiliary arguments; and, when that attempt failed, to awaken the sensibility that would require none. Every prejudice and feeling has been summoned to listen to some peculiar style of address; and yet we seem to believe and to consider a doubt as an affront, that we are strangers to any influence but that of unbiassed reason.... It is very unfairly pretended, that the constitutional right of this house is at stake, and to be asserted and preserved only by a vote in the negative. We hear it said, that this is a struggle for liberty, a manly resistance against the design to nullify the existence of this assembly, and to make it a cypher in the government; that the president and senate, the numerous meetings in the cities, and the influence of the general alarm of the country, are the agents and instruments of a scheme of coercion and terror, and in spite of the clearest convictions of duty and conscience.

“It is necessary to pause here, and inquire whether suggestions of this kind be not unfair in their very texture and fabric, and pernicious in all their influences. They oppose an obstacle in the path of inquiry, not simply discouraging, but absolutely insurmountable. They will not yield to argument; for, as they were not reasoned up, they can not be reasoned down. They are higher than a Chinese wall in truth's way, and built of materials that are indestructible. While this remains, it is vain to say to this mountain, be thou cast into the sea. For I ask of the men of knowledge of the world, whether they would not hold him for a blockhead, that should hope to prevail in an argument, whose scope and object is to mortify the self-love of the expected proselyte? I ask further, when such attempts have been made, whether they have not failed of success? The indignant heart repels the conviction that is believed to debase it.... Let me expostulate with gentlemen to admit, if it be only by way of supposition, and for a moment, that it is barely possible they have yielded too suddenly to their own alarms for the powers of this house; that the addresses which have been made with such variety of forms, and with so great dexterity in some of them, to all that is prejudice and passion in the heart, are either the effects or the instruments of artifice and deception, and then let them see the subject once more in its singleness and simplicity....

“The doctrine has been avowed, that the treaty, though formally ratified by the executive power of both nations, though published as a law for our own by the president's proclamation, is still a mere proposition submitted to this assembly, no way distinguishable, in point of authority or obligation, from a motion for leave to bring in a bill, or any other original act of ordinary legislation. This doctrine, so novel in our country, yet so dear to many precisely for the reason, that in the contention for power, victory is always dear, is obviously repugnant to the very terms, as well as the fair interpretation of our own resolution (Mr. Blount's). We declare, that the treaty-making power is exclusively vested in the president and senate, and not in the house. Need I say that we fly in the face of that resolution, when we pretend that the acts of that power are not valid until we have concurred in them. It would be nonsense, or worse, to use the language of the most glaring contradiction, and to claim a share in a power which we at the same time disclaim, as exclusively vested in other departments. What can be more strange than to say, that the compacts of the president and senate with foreign nations are treaties without our agency, and yet, that those compacts want all power and obligation until they are sanctioned by our concurrence. It is not my design, in this place, if at all, to go into a discussion of this part of the subject. I will, at least for the present, take it for granted that this monstrous opinion stands in little need of remark, and, if it does, lies almost out of the reach of refutation.”

After discussing the subject of bad faith on the part of the United States, in refusing to execute the treaty, with a clear and comprehensive view of the obligations of nations, Mr. Ames continued:—

“I shall be asked, why a treaty so good in some articles, and so harmless in others, has met with such unrelenting opposition? and how the clamors against it, from New Hampshire to Georgia, can be accounted for? The apprehensions so extensively diffused on its first publication, will be vouched as proof that the treaty is bad, and that the people held it in abhorrence.

“I am not embarrassed to find an answer to this insinuation. Certainly a foresight of its pernicious operation could not have created all the fears that were felt or effected: the alarm spread faster than the publication of the treaty; there were more critics than readers. Besides, as the subject was examined, those fears have subsided. The movements of passion are quicker than those of the understanding: we are to search for the causes of first impressions, not in the articles of this obnoxious and misrepresented instrument, but in the state of the public feeling.

“The fervor of the Revolutionary war had not entirely cooled, nor its controversies ceased, before the sensibility of our citizens was quickened with a tenfold vivacity, by a new and extraordinary subject of irritation. One of the two great nations of Europe underwent a change which has attracted all our wonder, and interested all our sympathy. Whatever they did, the zeal of many went with them, and often went to excess. These impression met with much to inflame, and nothing to restrain them. In our newspapers, in our feasts, and some of our elections, enthusiasm was admitted a merit, a test of patriotism; and that made it contagious. In the opinion of party, we could not love or hate enough. I dare say, in spite of all the obloquy it may provoke, we were extravagant in both. It is my right to avow, that passions so impetuous, enthusiasm so wild, could not subsist without disturbing the sober exercise of reason, without putting at risk the peace and precious interests of our country. They were hazarded. It will not exhaust the little breath I have left, to say how much, nor by whom, or by what means they were rescued from the sacrifice. Shall I be called upon to offer my proofs? They are here. They are everywhere. No one has forgotten the proceedings of 1794. No one has forgotten the capture of our vessels, and the imminent danger of war. The nation thirsted, not only for reparation, but vengeance. Suffering such wrongs, and agitated by such resentments, was it in the power of any words of compact, or could any parchment, with its seals, prevail at once to tranquillize the people? It was impossible. Treaties in England are seldom popular, and least of all, when the stipulations of amity succeed to the bitterness of hatred. Even the best treaty, though nothing be refused, will choke resentment, but not satisfy it. Every treaty is as sure to disappoint extravagant expectations, as to disarm extravagant passions; of the latter, hatred is one that takes no bribes; they who are animated by a spirit of revenge, will not be quieted by the possibility of profit.

“Why do they complain that the West Indies are not laid open? Why do they lament that any restriction is stipulated on the commerce of the East Indies? Why do they pretend, that if they reject this, and insist upon more, more will be accomplished? Let us be explicit—more would not satisfy. If all was granted, would not a treaty of amity with Great Britain still be obnoxious? Have we not this instant heard it urged against our envoy, that he was not ardent enough in his hatred of Great Britain? A treaty of amity is condemned because it was not made by a foe, and in the spirit of one. The same gentleman, at the same instant, repeats a very prevailing objection, that no treaty should be made with the enemy of France. 'No treaty,' exclaim others, 'should be made with a monarch or a despot; there will be no naval security while those sea-robbers prevail on the ocean; their den must be destroyed; that nation must be extirpated.'

“I like this, sir, because it is sincerity. With feelings such as these we do not pant for treaties. Such passions seek nothing, and will be content with nothing, but the destruction of their object. If a treaty left King George his island it would not answer, not if he stipulated to pay rent for it. It has been said, the world ought to rejoice if Great Britain was sunk in the sea; if, where there are now men, and wealth, and laws, and liberty, there were no more than a sandbank, for the sea-monsters to fatten on—a space for the storms of the ocean to mingle in conflict.

“I object nothing to the good sense or humanity of all this. I yield the point that this is a proof that the age of reason is in progress. Let it be philanthropy, let it be patriotism, if you will; but it is no indication that any treaty would be approved. The difficulty is not to overcome the objections to the terms; it is to restrain the repugnance to any stipulations of amity with the party.

“Having alluded to the rival of Great Britain, I am not unwilling to explain myself. I effect no concealment, and I have practised none. While those two great nations agitate all Europe with their quarrels, they will both equally endeavor to create an influence in America; each will exert all its arts to range its strength on its own side. How is this to be effected? Our government is a democratical republic; it will not be disposed to pursue a system of politics, in submission to either France or England, in opposition to the general wishes of the citizens; and if Congress should adopt such measures, they would not be pursued long, nor with much success. From the nature of our government, popularity is the instrument of foreign influence. Without it, all is labor and disappointment. With that auxiliary, foreign intrigue finds agents, not only volunteers, but competitors for employment, and anything like reluctance is understood to be a crime. Has Britain this means of influence? Certainly not. If her gold could buy adherents, their becoming such would deprive them of all political power and importance. They would not wield popularity as a weapon, but would fall under it. Britain has no influence, and, for reasons just given, can have none. She has enough; and God forbid she ever should have more. France, possessed of popular enthusiasm, of party attachments, has had, and still has, too much influence on our politics. Any foreign influence is too much, and ought to be destroyed. I detest the man, and disdain the spirit, that can bend to a mean subserviency to the views of any nation. It is enough to be American; that character comprehends our duties, and ought to engross our attachments.

“But I would not be misunderstood. I would not break the alliance with France. I would not have the connection between the two countries even a cold one. It should be cordial and sincere; but I would banish that influence, which, by acting on the passions of the citizens, may acquire a power over the government.”

The speaker then drew a picture of the national disgrace, in the eyes of the world, that would be caused by a breach of national faith; and he appealed with inexpressible power to the hearts and understandings of the members, on this all-important consideration. He probed, with keen and searching precision, the Jesuitical position assumed by the house, in disclaiming any participation in the treaty-making power, and yet claiming the right to decide upon the merits of a treaty, and to defeat its execution. He then dwelt upon the evils that would accrue, in the form of a loss to the mercantile community, of five millions of dollars promised in payment for spoliations; and the renewal of Indian wars on the frontier, if the western posts should not be given up.

“On this theme,” he said, “my emotions are unutterable. If I could find words for them, if my powers bore any proportion to my zeal, I would swell my voice to such a note of remonstrance, it should reach every log-house beyond the mountains. I would say to the inhabitants, wake from your false security— your cruel dangers; your more cruel apprehensions are soon to be torn open again. In the daytime your path through the woods will be ambushed; the darkness of midnight will glitter with the blaze of your dwellings. You are a father—the blood of your sons shall fatten your cornfields. You are a mother—the war-whoop shall waken the sleep of the cradle.

“On this subject you need not expect any deception on your feelings. It is a spectacle of horror which can not be overdrawn. If you have nature in your hearts, they will speak a language, compared with which, all I have said, or can say, will be poor and frigid.... By rejecting the posts, we light the savage fires—we bind the victims. This day we undertake to render account to the widows and orphans our decision will make—to the wretches that will be roasted at the stake—to our country—and I do not deem it too serious to say, to conscience and to God. We are answerable; and if duty be anything more than a word of imposture, if conscience be not a bugbear, we are preparing to make ourselves as wretched as our country....

“The idea of war has been treated as a bugbear. This levity is, at least, unseasonable, and, most of all, unbecoming some who resort to it. Who has forgotten the philippics of 1794? The cry then was, reparation—no envoy—no treaty—no tedious delays. Now, it seems, the passion subsides, or, at least, the hurry to satisfy it. Great Britain, they say, will not wage war upon us.

“In 1794, it was urged by those who now say, no war, that if we built frigates, or resisted the piracies of Algiers, we could not expect peace. Now they give excellent comfort truly. Great Britain has seized our vessels and cargoes to the amount of millions; she holds the posts; she interrupts our trade, say they, as a neutral nation; and these gentlemen, formerly so fierce for redress, assure us, in terms of the sweetest consolation, Great Britain will bear all this patiently. But let me ask the late champions of our rights, will our nation bear it? Let others exult because the aggressor will let our wrongs sleep for ever. Will it add, it is my duty to ask, to the patience and quiet of our citizens, to see their rights abandoned? Will not the disappointment of their hopes, so long patronized by the government, now in the crisis of their being realized, convert all their passions into fury and despair?...

“Look again at this state of things. On the seacoast, vast losses uncompensated; on the frontier, Indian war and actual encroachment on our territory; everywhere discontent; resentments tenfold more fierce because they will be more impotent and humbled; national discord and abasement. The disputes of the old treaty of 1783, being left to rankle, will revive the almost extinguished animosities of that period. Wars in all countries, and most of all in such as are free, arise from the impetuosity of the public feelings. The despotism of Turkey is often obliged by clamor to unsheathe the sword. War might, perhaps, be delayed, but could not be prevented. The causes of it would remain, would be aggravated, would be multiplied, and soon become intolerable. More captures, more impressments would swell the list of our wrongs, and the current of our rage. I make no calculation of the arts of those whose employment it has been, on former occasions, to fan the fire; I say nothing of the foreign money and emissaries that might foment the spirit of hostility, because this state of things will naturally run to violence. With less than their former exertion they would be successful.

“Will our government be able to temper and restrain the turbulence of such a crisis? The government, alas! will be in no capacity to govern. A divided people, and divided councils! Shall we cherish the spirit of peace, or show the energies of war? Shall we make our adversary afraid of our strength, or dispose him, by the measures of resentment and broken faith, to respect our rights? Do gentlemen rely on the state of peace because both nations will be more disposed to keep it? because injuries and insults still harder to endure, will be mutually offered?...

“Is there anything in the prospect of the interior state of the country, to encourage us to aggravate the dangers of a war? Would not the shock of that evil produce another, and shake down the feeble and then unbraced structure of our government? Is this a chimera? Is it going off the ground of matter of fact to say, the rejection of the appropriation proceeds upon the doctrine of a civil war of the departments? Two branches have ratified a treaty, and we are going to set it aside. How is this disorder in the machine to be rectified? While it exists its movements must stop; and when we talk of a remedy, is that any other than the formidable one of a revolutionary interposition of the people? And is this, in the judgment even of my opposers, to execute, to preserve the constitution, and the public order? Is this the state of hazard, if not of convulsion, which they can have the courage to contemplate and to praise; or beyond which their penetration can reach and see the issue? They seem to believe, and they act as if they believed, that our union, our peace, our liberty, are invulnerable and immortal; as if our happy state was not to be disturbed by our dissentions, and that we are not capable of falling from it by our unworthiness. Some of them have, no doubt, better nerves and better discernment than mine. They can see the bright aspects and happy consequences of all this array of horrors. They can see intestine discords, our government disorganized, our wrongs aggravated, multiplied, and un-redressed, peace with dishonor, or war without justice, union, or resources, in 'the calm lights of mild philosophy.' ...

“Let me cheer the mind, weary, no doubt, and ready to despond on this prospect, by presenting another which it is in our power to realize. Is it possible for a real American to look at the prosperity of this country without some desire for its continuance, without some respect for the measures which, many will say, produced, and all will confess, have preserved it? Will he not feel some dread that a change of system will reverse the scene? The well-grounded fears of our citizens, in 1794, were removed by the treaty, but are not forgotten. Then they deemed war nearly inevitable, and would not this adjustment have been considered, at that day, as a happy escape from the calamity? The great interest and the general desire of our people was to enjoy the advantages of neutrality. This instrument, however misrepresented, affords Americans that inestimable security. The cause of our disputes are either cut up by the roots, or referred to a new negotiation after the end of the European war. This was gaining everything. This, alone, would justify the engagements of the government. For, when the fiery vapors of war lowered in the skirts of our horizon, all our wishes were concentrated in this one, that we might escape the desolation of the storm. This treaty, like a rainbow on the edge of the cloud, marked to our eyes the space where it was raging, and afforded, at the same time, the sure prognostic of fair weather. If we reject it the vivid colors will grow pale; it will be a baleful meteor, portending tempest and war.

“Let us not hesitate, then, to agree to this appropriation to carry it into faithful execution. Thus we shall save the faith of our nation, secure its peace, and diffuse the spirit of confidence and enterprise that will augment its prosperity. The progress of wealth and improvement is wonderful, and some will think, too rapid. The field for exertion is fruitful and vast; and if peace and good government should be preserved, the acquisitions of our citizens are not so pleasing as the proofs of their industry, as the instruments of their future success. The rewards of exertion go to augment its power. Profit is every hour becoming capital. The vast crop of our neutrality is all seed-wheat, and is sown again, to swell, almost beyond calculation, the future harvest of prosperity. In this progress what seems to be fiction is found to fall short of experience.... When I come to the moment of deciding the vote, I start back with dread from the edge of the pit into which we are plunging. In my view, even the minutes I have spent in expostulation, have their value, because they protract the crisis, and the short period in which alone we may resolve to escape it.

“I have thus been led by my feelings to speak more at length than I had intended. Yet I have, perhaps, as little personal interest in the event as any one here. There is, I believe, no member who will not think his chance to be a witness of the consequences greater than mine. If, however, the vote should pass to reject, and a spirit should rise, as it will, with the public disorders, to make 'confusion worse confounded,' even I, slender and almost broken as my hold upon life is, may outlive the government and constitution of my country.”

With this touching peroration Mr. Ames closed his remarkable speech, and sat down. For a brief moment there was perfect silence in the house. “Judge Iredell and I happened to sit together,” wrote Vice-President Adams, describing the scene. “Our feelings beat in unison. 'My God! how great he is,' says Iredell; 'how great he has been!'—'Noble!' said I. After some time Iredell breaks out, 'Bless my stars! I never heard anything so great since I was born.'—'Divine!' said I; and thus we went on with our interjections, not to say tears, to the end. Tears enough were shed. Not a dry eye, I believe, in the house, except some of the jackasses who had occasioned the necessity of the oratory. These attempted to laugh, but their visages 'grinned horribly ghastly smiles.' They smiled like Foulon's son-in-law when they made him kiss his father's dead and bleeding hand. Perhaps the speech may not read as well. The situation of the man excited compassion, and interested all hearts in his favor. The ladies wished his soul had a better body.”[96]

The vote was about to be taken, immediately after the conclusion of Ames's speech, when the opposition, alarmed on account of the effect it had probably produced, carried an adjournment. There was a little speaking upon the subject the next day, but no one dared to attempt an answer to Ames's words, or assail his positions. The vote stood forty-nine to forty-nine, when General Muhlenburg, chairman of the committee of the whole, decided the matter by casting his vote for the resolution. It was reported to the house on the thirteenth of May, and, after some delay, the resolution, unamended, declaring that it was expedient to pass laws necessary for carrying the treaty into effect, was adopted, fifty-one to forty-eight, the northern members voting for and the southern against it.

FOOTNOTES:

[91] Life of Washington.

[92] He referred to Livingston, the author of the resolutions before the house, who was one of the leaders of the populace in New York when Hamilton and King were stoned, while speaking in favor of the treaty, at a public meeting.

[93] The following is a copy of Washington's message to the house of representatives on the thirtieth of March, 1796, assigning his reasons for not complying with their resolution of the twenty-fourth:—

“With the utmost attention I have considered your resolution of the twenty-fourth instant, requiring me to lay before your house a copy of the instructions to the minister of the United States who negotiated the treaty with the king of Great Britain, together with a correspondence and other documents relative to that treaty, excepting such of the said papers as any existing negotiation may render improper to be disclosed.

“In deliberating upon this subject, it was impossible to lose sight of the principle, which some have avowed in its discussion, or to avoid extending my views to the consequences which must flow from the admission of that principle.

“I trust that no part of my conduct has ever indicated a disposition to withhold any information which the constitution has enjoined upon the president as a duty to give, or which could be required of him by either house of Congress as a right; and with truth I affirm that it has been, as it will continue to be while I have the honor to preside in the government, my constant endeavor to harmonize with the other branches thereof, so far as the trust delegated to me by the people of the United States, and my sense of the obligation it imposes to 'preserve, protect, and defend the constitution,' will permit.

“The nature of foreign negotiations requires caution, and their success must often depend on secrecy; and, even when brought to a conclusion, a full disclosure of all the measures, demands, or eventual concessions, which may have been proposed or contemplated, would be extremely impolitic; for this might have a pernicious influence on future negotiations, or produce immediate inconveniences, perhaps danger and mischief, in relation to other powers. The necessity of such caution and secrecy was one cogent reason for vesting the power of making treaties in the president, with the advice and consent of the senate; the principle on which that body was formed confining it to a small number of members. To admit, then, a right in the house of representatives to demand, and to have, as a matter of course, all the papers respecting a negotiation with a foreign power, would be to establish a dangerous precedent.

“It does not occur that the inspection of the papers asked for can be relative to any purpose under the cognizance of the house of representatives, except that of an impeachment, which the resolution has not expressed. I repeat, that I have no disposition to withhold any information which the duty of my situation will permit, or the public good shall require, to be disclosed; and, in fact, all the papers affecting the negotiation with Great Britain were laid before the senate when the treaty itself was communicated for their consideration and advice.

“The course which the debate has taken on the resolution of the house, leads to some observations on the mode of making treaties under the constitution of the United States.

“Having been a member of the general convention, and knowing the principles on which the constitution was formed, I have ever entertained but one opinion on this subject; and, from the first establishment of the government to this moment, my conduct has exemplified that opinion—that the power of making treaties is exclusively vested in the president, by and with the advice and consent of the senate, provided two thirds of the senators present concur; and that every treaty, so made and promulgated, thenceforward became the law of the land. It is thus that the treaty-making power has been understood by foreign nations; and, in all the treaties made with them, we have declared, and they have believed, that when ratified by the president, with the advice and consent of the senate, they became obligatory. In this construction of the constitution, every house of representatives has heretofore acquiesced; and, until the present time, not a doubt or suspicion has appeared, to my knowledge, that this construction was not the true one. Nay, they have more than acquiesced; for, till now, without controverting the obligations of such treaties, they have made all the requisite provisions for carrying them into effect.

“There is also reason to believe that this construction agrees with the opinions entertained by the state conventions, when they were deliberating on the constitution; especially by those who objected to it because there was not required, in commercial treaties, the consent of two thirds of the whole number of the members of the senate, instead of two thirds of the senators present; and because, in treaties respecting territorial and certain other rights and claims, the concurrence of three fourths of the whole number of both houses respectively was not made necessary.

“It is a fact decided by the general convention, and universally understood, that the constitution of the United States was the result of a spirit of amity and mutual concession.

“And it is well known that, under this influence, the smaller states were admitted to an equal representation in the senate with the larger states, and that this branch of the government was invested with great powers; for on the equal participation of those powers the sovereignty and political safety of the smaller states were deemed essentially to depend.

“If other proofs than these, and the plain letter of the constitution itself, be necessary to ascertain the point under consideration, they may be found in the journals of the general convention, which I have deposited in the office of the department of state. In those journals it will appear that a proposition was made, 'that no treaty should be binding on the United States which was not ratified by a law,' and that the proposition was explicitly rejected.

“As, therefore, it is perfectly clear to my understanding that the assent of the house of representatives is not necessary to the validity of a treaty; as the treaty with Great Britain exhibits, in itself, all the objects requiring legislative provision, and on these the papers called for can throw no light; and as it is essential to the due administration of the government that the boundaries fixed by the constitution between the different departments should be preserved, a just regard to the constitution and to the duty of my office, under all the circumstances of this case, forbids a compliance with your request. George Washington.”

[94] Earnest petitions from these had been sent in to Congress, representing that the property of merchants of the United States, to the amount of five millions of dollars, had been taken from them by the subjects of Great Britain, for which they wanted restitution, and, for that purpose, prayed for measures to execute the provisions of the treaty.

[95] History of the United States, second series, i, 603.

[96] Letter to Mrs. Adams, April 30, 1796.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

TOP

jefferson's apprehensions concerning jay's treaty—his opinion of gallatin—of the treaty-making power—his letter to mazzei—its effects—disclosure of a confidential paper—jefferson disclaims any participation in the act—his letter to washington, and the reply—ungenerous attacks on washington's character—provision for carrying the treaty into effect—diplomatic changes—washington at mount vernon—efforts to procure the liberation of lafayette—washington's letter to the emperor of germany—washington's farewell address—its authorship.

According to the prediction of Vice-President Adams, the British treaty, after having been “mauled and abused,” was “acquiesced in.” “The treaty will go into operation, and be supported by a great majority of the people,” wrote Jay on the first of May; “a majority comprising the greater part of the men most distinguished by talents, worth, and weight.”[97]

But there were many honest men—men who loved their country, were jealous of its honor, and ready to make personal sacrifices, if necessary, for the commonwealth—who regarded the triumph of the government party, on this occasion, as a public calamity. Among these was Mr. Jefferson, who, from his retirement at Monticello, sent forth, now and then, the thunderbolts of his wrath against political opponents and their measures. He had watched the progress of the treaty in every stage of the ordeal to which it was subjected in Congress, and occasionally gave his views to his friends. He was deeply enamored of Gallatin, and with acute perception, as time demonstrated, he foresaw the value of the young Genevese to his adopted country. “If Mr. Gallatin,” he said, in a letter to Madison on the sixth of March, concerning the operations of the treasury, “would undertake to reduce this chaos to order, present us with a clear view of our finances, and put them into a form as simple as they will admit, he will merit immortal honor.”

After Gallatin's speech on the treaty, Mr. Jefferson again wrote to Madison, saying, “It is worthy to be printed at the end of the Federalist, as the only rational commentary on the part of the constitution to which it relates.” In reference to the power of the house of representatives, in the matter of treaties, Mr. Jefferson remarked in the same letter, “I see no harm in rendering their sanction necessary, and not much harm in annihilating the whole treaty-making power, except as to making peace. If you decide in favor of your right to refuse your co-operation in any case of treaty, I wonder on what occasion it is to be used, if not in one where the rights, the interest, the honor, and faith of our nation are so grossly sacrificed; when a faction has entered into a conspiracy with the enemies of their country, to chain down the legislature at the feet of both; when the whole mass of your constituents have condemned this work in the most unequivocal manner, and are looking to you as their last hope to save them from the effects of the avarice and corruption of the first agent, the revolutionary machinations of others, and the incomprehensible acquiescence of the only honest man [the president] who has assented to it. I wish that his honesty and his political errors may not furnish a second occasion to exclaim—'curse on his virtues, they have undone his country.'”[98]

On the twenty-fourth of April, in a letter to his friend, Philip Mazzei,[99] then in Florence—a letter which afterward drew down upon the author the most severe comments—he said, “The aspect of our politics has wonderfully changed since you left us. In place of that noble love of liberty and republican government which carried us triumphantly through the war, an Anglican monarchical and aristocratical party has sprung up, whose avowed object is, to draw over us the substance, as they have already done the form, of the British government. The main body of our citizens, however, remain true to their republican principles; the whole landed interest is republican, and so is a great mass of talent. Against us are the executive; the judiciary; two out of three branches of the legislature; all the officers of the government; all who want to be officers; all timid men who prefer the calm of despotism to the boisterous sea of liberty; British merchants, and Americans trading on British capital; speculators and holders in the banks and public funds, a contrivance invented for the purposes of corruption, and for assimilating us in all things to the rotten as well as the sound parts of the British model. It would give you a fever were I to name to you the apostates who have gone over to these heresies; men who were Samsons in the field and Solomons in the council, but who have had their heads shorn by the harlot England. In short, we are likely to preserve the liberty we have obtained, only by unremitting labors and perils. But we shall preserve it; and our mass of weight and wealth on the good side is so great, as to leave no danger that force will ever be attempted against us. We have only to awake and snap the Lilliputian cords with which they have been entangling us during the first sleep which succeeded our labors.”[100]

A little later, when the government had triumphed in the matter of the treaty, and the public acquiesced, Mr. Jefferson wrote to Monroe, in Paris; “You will have seen, by their proceedings, the truth of what I have always observed to you, that one man outweighs them all in influence over the people, who have supported his judgment against their own, and that of their representatives. Republicanism must lie on its oars, resign the vessel to its pilot, and themselves to the course he thinks best for them.” In this manner the professedly retired statesman, deceived by demagogues, taking Bache's abusive and unscrupulous “Aurora” as his compass in current politics, and with his judgment sadly warped by his prejudices, he threw out, in various directions, ungenerous insinuations against Washington, who, at that moment, was confiding implicitly in Jefferson's integrity, justice, sincerity, and personal friendship. He would not allow himself to be even suspicious of any duplicity or dishonor on the part of his late secretary, even when that gentleman himself supposed Washington had reason to suspect him.

In Bache's “Aurora,” on the ninth of June, were disclosed, by an anonymous writer, a series of questions submitted by Washington, in strict confidence, to the cabinet in 1793, concerning the reception of Genet, and the force of the treaty with France. These were published with the evident design to prejudice the executive in the public mind. This startled Jefferson, and he thought it necessary to put in an immediate disclaimer of all participation in the matter. He wrote to Washington on the nineteenth of June, saying, in reference to the document, “It having been confided to but few hands, makes it truly wonderful how it should have got there. I can not be satisfied as to my own part, till I relieve my mind by declaring—and I attest everything sacred and honorable to the declaration—that it has got them, neither through me nor the paper confided to me. This has never been from under my own lock and key, or out of my own hands. No mortal ever knew from me that these questions had been proposed.” Mr. Jefferson then expressed his belief, that one who had been their mutual friend “thought it worth while to sow tares” between the president and himself, and denounced him as an “intriguer, dirtily employed in sifting the conversations of his table, where, alone, he could hear him.”[101] The person here alluded to was General Henry Lee, of Virginia, who had lately become attached to the federal party, and incurred the political enmity of Jefferson.

This letter drew from Washington a most noble reply. On the sixth of July he wrote: “If I had entertained any suspicions before, that the queries, which have been published in Bache's paper, proceeded from you, the assurances you have given of the contrary would have removed them; but the truth is, I harbored none. I am at no loss to conjecture from what source they flowed, through what channel they were conveyed, and for what purpose they and similar publications appear. They were known to be in the hands of Mr. Parker in the early part of the last session of Congress. They were shown about by Mr. Giles during the session, and they made their public exhibition about the close of it.

“Perceiving and, probably, hearing, that no abuse in the gazettes would induce me to take notice of anonymous publications against me, those who were disposed to do me such friendly offices, have embraced, without restraint, every opportunity to weaken the confidence of the people; and, by having the whole game in their hands, they have not scrupled to publish things that do not, as well as those which do exist, and to mutilate the latter, so as to make them subserve the purposes which they have in view.

“As you have mentioned the subject yourself, it would not be frank, candid, or friendly, to conceal, that your conduct has been represented as derogating from that opinion I had conceived you entertained of me; that, to your particular friends and connections you have described, and they have denounced, me as a person under a dangerous influence; and that, if I would listen more to some other opinions, all would be well. My answer invariably has been, that I had never discovered anything in the conduct of Mr. Jefferson to raise suspicion in my mind of his insincerity; that, if he would retrace my public conduct while he was in the administration, abundant proofs would occur to him, that truth and right decisions were the sole objects of my pursuit; that there were as many instances, within his own knowledge, of my having decided against, as in favor, of the opinions of the persons evidently alluded to; and, moreover, that I was no believer in the infallibility of the politics or measures of any man living. In short, that I was no party man myself, and the first wish of my heart was, if parties did exist, to reconcile them.”

This portion of Washington's letter must have been felt by Mr. Jefferson as a severe rebuke of his real insincerity, in throwing out precisely such insinuations as Washington here alludes to. Washington continued:—

“To this I may say, and very truly, that, until within the last year or two, I had no conception that parties would, or even could, go the length I have been witness to; nor did I really believe, until lately, that it was within the bounds of probability, hardly within those of possibility, that, while I was using my utmost exertions to establish a national character of our own, independent, as far as our obligations and justice would permit, of every nation of the earth, and wished, by steering a steady course, to preserve this country from the horrors of a desolating war, I should be accused of being the enemy of one nation, and subject to the influence of another; and, to prove it, that every act of my administration would be tortured, and the grossest and most insidious misrepresentations of these be made, by giving one side only of a subject, and that, too, in such exaggerated and indecent terms as could scarcely be applied to a Nero, a notorious defaulter, or even to a common pickpocket. But enough of this, I have already gone further in the expression of my feelings than I intended.”[102]

When Congress had disposed of the treaty by voting appropriations for the purpose of executing it, nothing remained to complete the business but the appointment of the several officers to carry out its provisions. These were immediately made. David Howell, of Rhode Island, was made commissioner for ascertaining the true river St. Croix; Messrs. Fitzsimons and Innes (the latter soon succeeded by Mr. Sitgreaves) were appointed commissioners on the subject of British debts; and Messrs. Gore and Pinckney commissioners for settling claims for British spoliations.

Some diplomatic changes were made at about this time; Rufus King was appointed minister to England, in place of Thomas Pinckney, who wished to return home; Colonel Humphreys was appointed minister to Spain, in place of Mr. Carmichael, deceased; John Quincy Adams, son of the vice-president, left the Hague, to which he had been accredited, and succeeded Humphreys at Lisbon; and Mr. Murray took Adam's place in Holland. The president was authorized to appoint two or more agents, one to reside in Great Britain, the others at such points as the executive might choose, to investigate and report concerning all impressments of American seamen by British cruisers.

The interesting session of Congress during which Jay's treaty had been the chief topic of debate, was now drawing to a close, and Washington looked to the brief period of repose from public duties, at Mount Vernon, that would succeed the legislative turmoil, with the greatest pleasure. That moment of release came on the first day of June, when the Congress adjourned.

The president's thoughts now turned toward his long-tried friends, and the sweet enjoyments of private life toward which he was hastening. Among the former, the Marquis de Lafayette held a prominent place in his heart. He was yet a prisoner in a far-off dungeon, and his family in exile. Feeble was the arm of any man to give him liberty, especially one stretched toward him from the new republic beyond the sea. Yet Washington left no means untried to liberate his friend. Compelled by circumstances and state policy to be cautious, he was, nevertheless, persevering in his efforts. He well knew that his formal interposition in behalf of the illustrious captive would be unavailing. But he employed the American ministers at European courts in expressing, on every convenient opportunity, unofficially, the interest which the president took in the fate of his friend, and to use every fair means in their power to obtain his release.

While Lafayette was in the hands of the Prussian authorities, James Marshall was sent to Berlin as a special and confidential agent to solicit his discharge. Before Marshall's arrival, Lafayette had been delivered by the king of Prussia into the hands of the emperor of Germany. Mr. Pinckney, the United States minister in London, was then instructed to indicate the wishes of the president concerning the prisoner, to the Austrian minister in England, and to solicit the powerful mediation of the British cabinet. These efforts failed, and Washington, disdaining to make further application to the deputies of sovereignty, whose petty tyranny was proverbial, determined to go to the fountain-head of power in the dominion where his friend was suffering, and, on the fifteenth of May, he wrote as follows to the emperor of Germany:—

“It will readily occur to your majesty, that occasions may sometimes exist, on which official considerations would constrain the chief of a nation to be silent and passive in relation even to objects which affect his sensibility, and claim his interposition as a man. Finding myself precisely in this situation at present, I take the liberty of writing this private letter to your majesty, being persuaded that my motives will also be my apology for it.

“In common with the people of this country, I retain a strong and cordial sense of the services rendered to them by the Marquis de Lafayette; and my friendship for him has been constant and sincere. It is natural, therefore, that I should sympathize with him and his family in their misfortunes, and endeavor to mitigate the calamities which they experience; among which, his present confinement is not the least distressing.

“I forbear to enlarge on this delicate subject. Permit me only to submit to your majesty's consideration, whether his long imprisonment, and the confiscation of his estates, and the indigence and dispersion of his family, and the painful anxieties incident to all these circumstances, do not form an assemblage of sufferings which recommend him to the mediation of humanity? Allow me, sir, on this occasion to be its organ, and to entreat that he may be permitted to come to this country, on such conditions, and under such restrictions, as your majesty may think it expedient to prescribe.

“As it is a maxim with me not to ask what, under similar circumstances, I would not grant, your majesty will do me the justice to believe, that this request appears to me to correspond with those great principles of magnanimity and wisdom which form the basis of sound policy and durable glory.

“May the Almighty and Merciful Sovereign of the universe keep your majesty under his protection and guidance.”

This letter was transmitted to Mr. Pinckney, and by him sent to the emperor, through his minister in Great Britain. “How far it operated,” says Marshall, “in mitigating immediately the rigor of Lafayette's confinement, or in obtaining his liberation, remains unascertained.”

Washington left Philadelphia for Mount Vernon on the thirteenth of June, accompanied by his family, and remained there about two months. During that retirement he made his final arrangements for leaving public life for ever at the close of his term of office, which would occur in March following. We have observed his great reluctance to consent to a second nomination for the chief-magistracy of the republic. The best interests of the commonwealth seemed to require the sacrifice on his part, and it was given, but with a full determination not to yield again, unless there appeared greater danger hovering over his beloved country, which his instrumentality might avert. To this determination he had adhered; and it was always with inexpressible satisfaction that he looked forward to the day when his public labors should cease. But, for cogent reasons, he never made this declaration publicly, until within the last few months of his second administration. His confidential friends well knew his determination, however, and the people generally suspected it. “Those who dreaded a change of system,” says Marshall, “in changing the person of the chief-magistrate, manifested an earnest desire to avoid this hazard, by being permitted once more to offer to the public choice a person, who, amidst all the fierce conflicts of party, still remained the object of public veneration.” But his resolution was fixed. The safety of the nation did not, at that time, seem to require him to remain at its head, notwithstanding there were many and great perils besetting it; and while he was at Mount Vernon he completed the final draft of a “Farewell Address to the people of the United States,” to be published in time for them to choose his successor at the appointed season.

That address had been the subject of deep and anxious thought; and, at the special request of the president, Madison, Jefferson, Hamilton, Jay, and perhaps others, had given him suggestions in writing, topical and verbal. These he took with him to Mount Vernon, and in the quiet of his library he arranged the address in proper form, using the suggestions of Madison and Hamilton very freely. In the form in which it finally appeared, it remains the noblest production of Washington's mind and heart; and has been pronounced by Alison, the eminent British historian, unequalled by any composition of uninspired wisdom. It is a political legacy which not only the countrymen of Washington, but the inhabitants of the civilized world ought to value as one of the most precious gifts ever bestowed by man upon his race. It is permeated with the immortal spirit of a true man, a true patriot, and a true Christian.[103]

FOOTNOTES:

[97] Letter to Lord Grenville.

[98] Jefferson's Memoirs and Correspondence, iii., 330.

[99] Mazzei was an Italian, who came to Virginia just before the War for Independence commenced, bringing with him about a dozen experienced grape culturists of his own country, for the purpose of attempting that business in America, and the manufacture of wine. He formed a stock company, of whom Mr. Jefferson was one, and a considerable sum was raised for the undertaking. An estate adjoining Mr. Jefferson's was purchased for the experiment, but the scheme failed. Mazzei went to Europe as an agent of some kind for the state of Virginia, leaving his family in America, and did not return. His wife died, and Mazzei wrote to Mr. Jefferson for legal evidence of her death, and other important information. In his reply, the strong language concerning political affairs in America, which we have quoted, was incidentally used in the conclusion. Mazzei was an ardent republican. He translated that portion of the letter into Italian, and without asking Jefferson's permission to do so, published it in a Florentine journal. It was republished in the French journals, translated into English, and, about a year after it was written, it appeared in the American federal newspapers, with, it was alleged, many errors and interpolations. It placed Jefferson in an unpleasant dilemma, yet he had such faith in Washington's confidence in him, that he conceived that that great and good man would not construe any portion of his remarks as aimed at the president, and, by the advice of his friends, he kept silent, neither avowing or disavowing the letter as his. It became the subject of fierce attacks for a long time, even through the canvass in 1800, which resulted in the election of Mr. Jefferson to the presidency of the United States.

I have before me a caricature, published as a frontispiece to Robert G. Harper's “Observations on the Dispute between the United States and France,” printed in 1798, in which is represented Mr. Jefferson on bended knee before an altar, on which is a flame, fed by papers bearing the names of Age of Reason, Godwin, Aurora, Chronicle, J. J. Rousseau, Voltaire, Ruins of Volney, Helvetius, &c. On the short shaft is inscribed, “Altar to Gallic Despotism.” It is entwined by a serpent, who seems to be the instrument of the devil, whose horned head is seen rising behind the platform of the altar, upon which lies sacks for consumption, marked, American spoliations, Dutch restitution, Sardinia, Flanders, Venice, Spain, Plunder, &c. Over the flame on the altar hovers an angry American eagle, gazed upon by the all-seeing eye. The eagle has just snatched from the hand of Mr. Jefferson a scroll, on which is written Constitution and Independence, U. S. A., that he was about to commit to the flames. From his other hand is falling another scroll, inscribed, To Mazzei. The composition is entitled, “The Providential Detection.”

[100] Jefferson's Memoirs and Correspondence, iii., 333.

[101] Jefferson's Memoirs and Correspondence, iii., 336.

[102] Sparks's “Life and Writings of Washington,” xi., 137. In a note to this letter, Mr. Sparks says: “No correspondence, after this date, between Washington and Jefferson appears in the letter-books, except a brief note the month following, upon an unimportant matter. It has been reported and believed, that letters and papers, supposed to have passed between them, or to relate to their intercourse with each other at subsequent dates, were secretly withdrawn from the archives of Mount Vernon, after the death of the former.”

Washington's unlimited confidence in Mr. Jefferson's sincerity appears to have been finally shaken. In a letter to John Nicholson, in March, 1798, he said, “Nothing short of the evidence you have adduced, corroborative of intimations which I had received long before through another channel, could have shaken my belief in the sincerity of a friendship which I had conceived was possessed for me by the person to whom you allude.”

[103] The following is a copy of Washington's “Farewell Address.” It was first published in the “Philadelphia Advertiser,” in September, 1796. It occupied, in manuscript, thirty-two pages of quarto letter-paper, sewed together as a book.

“Friends and Fellow-Citizens:—The period for a new election of a citizen, to administer the executive government of the United States, being not far distant, and the time actually arrived, when your thoughts must be employed in designating the person who is to be clothed with that important trust, it appears to me proper, especially as it may conduce to a more distinct expression of the public voice, that I should now apprize you of the resolution I have formed, to decline being considered among the number of those out of whom a choice is to be made.

“I beg you, at the same time, to do me the justice to be assured, that this resolution has not been taken, without a strict regard to all the considerations appertaining to the relation which binds a dutiful citizen to his country; and that, in withdrawing the tender of service which silence in my situation might imply, I am influenced by no diminution of zeal for your future interest; no deficiency of grateful respect for your past kindness; but am supported by a full conviction that the step is compatible with both.

“The acceptance of, and continuance hitherto in, the office to which your suffrages have twice called me, have been a uniform sacrifice of inclination to the opinion of duty, and to a deference for what appeared to be your desire. I constantly hoped, that it would have been much earlier in my power, consistently with motives which I was not at liberty to disregard, to return to that retirement from which I had been reluctantly drawn. The strength of my inclination to do this, previous to the last election, had even led to the preparation of an address to declare it to you; but mature reflection on the then perplexed and critical posture of our affairs with foreign nations, and the unanimous advice of persons entitled to my confidence, impelled me to abandon the idea.

“I rejoice that the state of your concerns, external as well as internal, no longer renders the pursuit of inclination incompatible with the sentiment of duty, or propriety; and am persuaded, whatever partiality may be retained for my services, that in the present circumstances of our country, you will not disapprove my determination to retire.

“The impressions with which I first undertook the arduous trust, were explained on the proper occasion. In the discharge of this trust, I will only say, that I have with good intentions, contributed towards the organization and administration of the government, the best exertions of which a very fallible judgment was capable. Not unconscious, in the outset, of the inferiority of my qualifications, experience in my own eyes, perhaps still more in the eyes of others, has strengthened the motives to diffidence of myself; and, every day, the increasing weight of years admonishes me more and more that the shade of retirement is as necessary to me as it will be welcome. Satisfied that if any circumstances have given peculiar value to my services, they were temporary, I have the consolation to believe, that while choice and prudence invite me to quit the political scene, patriotism does not forbid it.

“In looking forward to the moment, which is intended to terminate the career of my public life, my feelings do not permit me to suspend the deep acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude which I owe to my beloved country, for the many honors it has conferred upon me; still more for the steadfast confidence with which it has supported me; and for the opportunities I have thence enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable attachment, by services faithful and persevering, though in usefulness unequal to my zeal. If benefits have resulted to our country from these services, let it always be remembered to your praise, and as an instructive example in our annals, that under circumstances in which the passions, agitated in every direction, were liable to mislead, amidst appearances sometimes dubious, vicissitudes of fortune often discouraging, in situations in which not infrequently want of success has countenanced the spirit of criticism, the constancy of your support was the essential prop of the efforts, and the guaranty of the plans by which they were effected. Profoundly penetrated with this idea, I shall carry it with me to my grave, as a strong incitement to unceasing vows that Heaven may continue to you the choicest tokens of its beneficence; that your union and brotherly affection may be perpetual; that the free constitution, which is the work of your hands, may be sacredly maintained; that its administration in every department may be stamped with wisdom and virtue; that, in fine, the happiness of the people of these states, under the auspices of liberty, may be made complete, by so careful a preservation, and so prudent a use of this blessing, as will acquire to them the glory of recommending it to the applause, the affection and the adoption of every nation which is yet a stranger to it.

“Here, perhaps I ought to stop. But a solicitude for your welfare, which can not end but with my life, and the apprehension of danger, natural to that solicitude, urge me, on an occasion like the present, to offer to your solemn contemplation, and to recommend to your frequent review, some sentiments, which are the result of much reflection, of no inconsiderable observation, and which appear to me all important to the permanency of your felicity as a People. These will be offered to you with the more freedom, as you can only see in them the disinterested warnings of a parting friend, who can possibly have no personal motives to bias his counsel. Nor can I forget, as an encouragement to it, your indulgent reception of my sentiments on a former and not dissimilar occasion. Interwoven as is the love of liberty with every ligament of your hearts, no recommendation of mine is necessary to fortify or confirm the attachment.

“The unity of Government which constitutes you one people is also now dear to you. It is justly so; for it is a main pillar in the edifice of your real independence, the support of your tranquillity at home, your peace abroad; of your safety; of your prosperity; of that very Liberty which you so highly prize. But as it is easy to foresee, that from different causes and from different quarters, much pains will be taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in your minds the conviction of this truth; as this is the point in your political fortress against which the batteries of internal and external enemies will be most constantly and actively (though often covertly and insidiously) directed, it is of infinite moment that you should properly estimate the immense value of your national Union, to your collective and individual happiness; that you should cherish a cordial, habitual and immovable attachment to it; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the Palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the various parts.

“For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. Citizens, by birth or choice, of a common country, that country has a right to concentrate your affections. The name of American, which belongs to you in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of Patriotism, more than any appellation derived from local discriminations. With slight shades of difference, you have the same religion, manners, habits, and political principles. You have in a common cause fought and triumphed together; the Independence and Liberty you possess are the work of joint councils and joint efforts, of common dangers, sufferings, and successes. But these considerations, however powerfully they address themselves to your sensibility, are greatly outweighed by those which apply more immediately to your interest. Here, every portion of our country finds the most commanding motives for carefully guarding and preserving the Union of the whole.

“The North, in an unrestrained intercourse with the South, protected by the equal laws of a common government, finds in the productions of the latter, great additional resources of maritime and commercial enterprise and precious materials of manufacturing industry. The South in the same intercourse, benefiting by the agency of the North, sees its agriculture grow and its commerce expand. Turning partly into its own channels the seamen of the North, it finds its particular navigation invigorated; and while it contributes, in different ways, to nourish and increase the general mass of the national navigation, it looks forward to the protection of a maritime strength, to which itself is unequally adapted. The East, in a like intercourse with the West, already finds, and in the progressive improvement of interior communications by land and water, will more and more find, a valuable vent for the commodities which it brings from abroad, or manufactures at home. The West derives from the East supplies requisite to its growth and comfort; and, what is perhaps of still greater consequence, it must of necessity owe the secure enjoyment of indispensable outlets for its own productions to the weight, influence, and the future maritime strength of the Atlantic side of the Union, directed by an indissoluble community of interest as one nation. Any other tenure by which the West can hold this essential advantage, whether derived from its own separate strength, or from an apostate and unnatural connection with any foreign power, must be intrinsically precarious.

“While, then, every part of our country thus feels an immediate and particular interest in Union, all the parties combined can not fail to find in the united mass of means and efforts greater strength, greater resource, proportionably greater security from external danger, a less frequent interruption of their peace by foreign nations; and, what is of inestimable value, they must derive from Union an exemption from those broils and wars between themselves, which so frequently afflict neighboring countries not tied together by the same governments; which their own rivalships alone would be sufficient to produce, but which, opposite foreign alliances, attachments, and intrigues would stimulate and embitter. Hence, likewise, they will avoid the necessity of those overgrown military establishments which, under any form of government, are inauspicious to liberty, and which are to be regarded as particularly hostile to Republican Liberty. In this sense it is, that your Union ought to be considered as a main prop of your liberty, and that the love of the one ought to endear to you the preservation of the other.

“These considerations speak a persuasive language to every reflecting and virtuous mind, and exhibit the continuance of the Union as a primary object of patriotic desire. Is there a doubt whether a common government can embrace so large a sphere? Let experience solve it. To listen to mere speculation in such a case were criminal. We are authorized to hope that a proper organization of the whole, with the auxiliary agency of governments for the respective subdivisions, will afford a happy issue of the experiment. It is well worth a fair and full experiment. With such powerful and obvious motives to Union, affecting all parts of our country, while experience shall not have demonstrated its impracticability, there will always be reason to distrust the patriotism of those, who in any quarter may endeavor to weaken its bands.

“In contemplating the causes which may disturb our Union, it occurs as a matter of serious concern, that any ground should have been furnished for characterizing parties by Geographical discriminations, northern and southern, Atlantic and western; whence designing men may endeavor to excite a belief that there is a real difference of local interests and views. One of the expedients of party to acquire influence within particular districts, is to misrepresent the opinions and aims of other districts. You can not shield yourselves too much against the jealousies and heart-burnings which spring from these misrepresentations: they tend to render alien to each other those who ought to be bound together by fraternal affection. The inhabitants of our western country have lately had a useful lesson on this head: they have seen in the negotiation by the Executive, and in the unanimous ratification by the Senate of the treaty with Spain, and in the universal satisfaction at that event throughout the United States, a decisive proof how unfounded were the suspicions propagated among them of a policy in the General Government and in the Atlantic states, unfriendly to their interests in regard to the Mississippi: they have been witnesses to the formation of two treaties, that with Great Britain and that with Spain, which secure to them everything they could desire, in respect to our foreign relations, towards confirming their prosperity. Will it not be their wisdom to rely for the preservation of these advantages on the Union by which they were procured? Will they not henceforth be deaf to those advisers, if such there are, who would sever them from their brethren, and connect them with aliens?

“To the efficacy and permanency of your Union, a government for the whole is indispensable. No alliances, however strict, between the parts, can be an adequate substitute: they must inevitably experience the infractions and interruptions which all alliances in all times have experienced. Sensible of this momentous truth, you have improved upon your first essay, by the adoption of a Constitution of Government better calculated than your former for an intimate union, and for the efficacious management of your common concerns. This Government, the offspring of our own choice, uninfluenced and unawed, adopted upon full investigation and mature deliberation, completely free in its principles, in the distribution of its powers, uniting security with energy, and containing within itself a provision for its own amendment, has a just claim to your confidence and your support. Respect for its authority, compliance with its laws, acquiescence in its measures, are duties enjoined by the fundamental maxims of true liberty. The basis of our political systems is, the right of the people to make and to alter their Constitutions of Government. But the Constitution which at any time exists, till changed by an explicit and authentic act of the whole people, is sacredly obligatory upon all. The very idea of the power and the right of the people to establish Government, presupposes the duty of every individual to obey the established Government.

“All obstructions to the execution of the Laws, all combinations and associations, under whatever plausible character, with the real design to direct, control, counteract, or awe the regular deliberation and action of the constituted authorities, are destructive of this fundamental principle, and of fatal tendency. They serve to organize faction, to give it an artificial and extraordinary force; to put in the place of the delegated will of the nation the will of a party, often a small but artful and enterprising minority of the community; and, according to the alternate triumphs of different parties, to make the public administration the mirror of the ill-concerted and incongruous projects of faction, rather than the organ of consistent and wholesome plans, digested by common councils, and modified by mutual interests. However combinations or associations of the above description may now and then answer popular ends, they are likely, in the course of time and things, to become potent engines, by which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people, and to usurp for themselves the reins of government; destroying afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominions.

“Towards the preservation of your government, and the permanency of your present happy state, it is requisite, not only that you steadily discountenance irregular oppositions to its acknowledged authority, but also that you resist with care the spirit of innovation upon its principles, however specious the pretexts. One method of assault may be to effect, in the forms of the constitution, alterations which will impair the energy of the system, and thus to undermine what can not be directly overthrown. In all the changes to which you may be invited, remember that time and habit are at least as necessary to fix the true character of governments as of other human institutions; that experience is the surest standard by which to test the real tendency of the existing constitution of a country; that facility in changes upon the credit of mere hypothesis and opinion, exposes to perpetual change from the endless variety of hypothesis and opinion; and remember, especially, that for the efficient management of your common interests, in a country so extensive as ours, a government of as much vigor as is consistent with the perfect security of liberty, is indispensable. Liberty itself will find in such a government, with powers properly distributed and adjusted, its surest guardian. It is indeed little else than a name, where the government is too feeble to withstand the enterprises of faction, to confine each member of the society within the limits prescribed by the laws, and to maintain all in the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of person and property.

“I have already intimated to you the danger of parties in the state, with particular reference to the founding of them on geographical discriminations. Let me now take a more comprehensive view, and warn you in the most solemn manner against the baneful effects of the spirit of party, generally. This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having its root in the strongest passions of the human mind. It exists under different shapes in all governments, more or less stifled, controlled or repressed; but in those of the popular form, it is seen in its greatest rankness, and is truly their worst enemy. The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party dissention, which, in different ages and countries, has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, is itself a frightful despotism. But this leads at length to a more formal and permanent despotism. The disorders and miseries which result, gradually incline the minds of men to seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual; and sooner or later the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of his own elevation, on the ruins of Public Liberty.

“Without looking forward to an extremity of this kind (which nevertheless ought not to be entirely out of sight), the common and continual mischiefs of the spirit of party, are sufficient to make it the interest and duty of a wise people to discourage and restrain it.

“It serves always to distract the Public Councils and enfeeble the Public Administration. It agitates the community with ill-founded jealousies and false alarms; kindles the animosity of one part against another; foments occasionally riot and insurrection. It opens the door to foreign influence and corruption, which find a facilitated access to the government itself through the channels of party passions. Thus the policy and the will of one country are subjected to the policy and will of another.

“There is an opinion that parties in free countries are useful checks upon the administration of the Government, and serve to keep alive the spirit of liberty. This within certain limits is probably true; and in Governments of a Monarchical cast, Patriotism may look with indulgence, if not with favor, upon the spirit of party. But in those of a popular character, in Governments purely elective, it is a spirit not to be encouraged. From their natural tendency, it is certain there will always be enough of that spirit for every salutary purpose. And, there being constant danger of excess, the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, to mitigate and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, it demands a uniform vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest, instead of warning, it should consume.

“It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a free country should inspire caution in those intrusted with its administration, to confine themselves within their respective constitutional spheres, avoiding, in the exercise of the powers of one department, to encroach upon another. The spirit of encroachment tends to consolidate the powers of all the departments in one, and thus to create, whatever the form of government, a real despotism. A just estimate of that love of power, and proneness to abuse it, which predominates in the human heart is sufficient to satisfy us of the truth of this position. The necessity of reciprocal checks in the exercise of political power, by dividing and distributing it into different depositories, and constituting each the Guardian of the Public Weal against invasions of the others, has been evinced by experiments ancient and modern: some of them in our country and under our own eyes. To preserve them must be as necessary as to institute them. If, in the opinion of the people, the distribution or modification of the constitutional powers be, in any particular, wrong, let it be corrected by an amendment in the way, which the constitution designates. But let there be no change by usurpation; for though this, in one instance, may be the instrument of good, it is the customary weapon by which free governments are destroyed. The precedent must always greatly overbalance in permanent evil any partial or transient benefit, which the use can, at any time, yield.

“Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, Religion and Morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of Men and Citizens. The mere Politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity. Let it simply be asked, Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths, which are the instruments of investigation in Courts of Justice; and let us with caution indulge the supposition, that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure; reason and experience both forbid us to expect, that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle. It is substantially true, that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government. The rule, indeeds, extends with more or less force to every species of free government. Who that is a sincere friend to it, can look with indifference upon attempts to shake the foundation of the fabric?

“Promote, then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened. As a very important source of strength and security, cherish public credit. One method of preserving it is, to use it as sparingly as possible; avoiding occasions of expense by cultivating peace, but remembering, also, that timely disbursements to prepare for danger, frequently prevent much greater disbursements to repel it; avoiding, likewise, the accumulations of debt, not only by shunning occasions of expense, but by vigorous exertions in time of peace to discharge the debts, which unavoidable wars may have occasioned, not ungenerously throwing upon posterity the burthen, which we ourselves ought to bear. The execution of these maxims belongs to your representatives, but it is necessary that public opinion should co-operate. To facilitate to them the performance of their duty, it is essential you should practically bear in mind, that toward the payment of debts there must be Revenue; that to have Revenue there must be taxes; that no taxes can be devised which are not more or less inconvenient and unpleasant; that the intrinsic embarrassments inseparable from the selection of the proper object (which is always a choice of difficulties), ought to be a decisive motive for a candid construction of the conduct of the government in making it, and for a spirit of acquiescence in the measures for obtaining revenue, which the public exigencies may at any time dictate.

“Observe good faith and justice towards all Nations; cultivate peace and harmony with all. Religion and Morality enjoin this conduct; and can it be, that good policy does not equally enjoin it? It will be worthy of a free, enlightened, and, at no distant period, a great Nation, to give to mankind the magnanimous and too novel example of a people always guided by an exalted justice and benevolence. Who can doubt, that, in the course of time and things, the fruits of such a plan would richly repay any temporary advantages, that might be lost by a steady adherence to it? Can it be, that Providence has not connected the permanent felicity of a Nation with its Virtue? The experiment, at least, is recommended by every sentiment which ennobles human nature. Alas! is it rendered impossible by its vices?

“In the execution of such a plan, nothing is more essential, than that permanent, inveterate antipathies against particular Nations, and passionate attachments for others, should be excluded; and that, in place of them, just and amicable feelings toward all should be cultivated. The nation, which indulges toward another an habitual hatred, or an habitual fondness, is in some decree a slave. It is a slave to its animosity, or to its affection, either of which is sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its interest. Antipathy in one nation against another, disposes each more readily to offer insult and injury, to lay hold of slight causes of umbrage, and to be haughty and intractable, when accidental or trifling occasions of dispute occur. Hence frequent collisions, obstinate, envenomed, and bloody contests. The Nation, prompted by ill-will and resentment, sometimes impels to war the Government, contrary to the best calculations of policy. The Government sometimes participates in the national propensity, and adopts, through passion, what reason would reject; at other times, it makes the animosity of the nation subservient to projects of hostility instigated by pride, ambition, and other sinister and pernicious motives. The peace often, sometimes perhaps the liberty, of Nations has been the victim.

“So, likewise, a passionate attachment of one Nation for another produces a variety of evils. Sympathy for the favorite Nation, facilitating the allusion of an imaginary common interest, in cases where no real common interest exists, and infusing into one the enmities of the other, betrays the former into a participation in the quarrels and wars of the latter, without adequate inducement or justification. It leads, also, to concessions to the favorite Nation, of privileges denied to others, which is apt doubly to injure the Nation making the concessions; by unnecessarily parting with what ought to have been retained; and by exciting jealousy, ill will, and a disposition to retaliate, in the parties from whom equal privileges are withheld; and it gives to ambitious, corrupted, or deluded citizens (who devote themselves to the favorite nation), facility to betray or sacrifice the interests of their own country, without odium, sometimes even with popularity; gilding, with the appearances of a virtuous sense of obligation, a commendable deference for public opinion, or a laudable zeal for public good, the base or foolish compliances of ambition, corruption, or infatuation.

“As avenues to foreign influence in innumerable ways, such attachments are particularly alarming to the truly enlightened and independent Patriot. How many opportunities do they afford to tamper with domestic factions, to practice the arts of seduction, to mislead public opinion, to influence or awe the Public Councils! Such an attachment of a small or weak, toward a great and powerful nation, dooms the former to be the satellite of the latter. Against the insidious wiles of foreign influence (I conjure you to believe me, fellow-citizens), the jealousy of a free people ought to be constantly awake; since history and experience prove that foreign influence is one of the most baneful foes of Republican Government. But that jealousy, to be useful, must be impartial; else it becomes the instrument of the very influence to be avoided, instead of a defence against it. Excessive partiality for one foreign nation, and excessive dislike for another, cause those whom they actuate to see danger only on one side, and serve to veil and even second the arts of influence on the other. Real patriots, who may resist the intrigues of the favorite, are liable to become suspected and odious; while its tools and dupes usurp the applause and confidence of the people, to surrender their interests. The great rule of conduct for us, in regard to foreign nations, is, in extending our commercial relations, to have with them as little political connection as possible. So far as we have already formed engagements, let them be fulfilled with perfect good faith. Here let us stop.

“Europe has a set of primary interests, which to us have none, or a very remote relation. Hence she most be engaged in frequent controversies, the causes of which are essentially foreign to our concerns. Hence, therefore, it must be unwise in us to implicate ourselves, by artificial ties in the ordinary vicissitudes of her politics, or the ordinary combinations and collisions of her friendships or enmities. Our detached and distant situation invites and enables us to pursue a different course. If we remain one people, under an efficient government, the period is not far off, when we may defy material injury from external annoyance; when we may take such an attitude as will cause the neutrality, we may at any time resolve upon, to be scrupulously respected; when belligerent nations, under the impossibility of making acquisitions upon us, will not lightly hazard the giving us provocation; when we may choose peace or war, as our interest, guided by justice, shall counsel.

“Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation? Why quit our own to stand on foreign ground? Why, by interweaving our destiny with that of any part of Europe, entangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, interest, humor, or caprice? It is our true policy to steer clear of permanent alliances with any portion of the foreign world; so far, I mean, as we are now at liberty to do it; for let me not be understood as capable of patronizing infidelity to existing engagements. I hold the maxim no less applicable to public than to private affairs, that honesty is always the best policy. I repeat it, therefore, let those engagements be observed in their genuine sense. But, in my own opinion, it is unnecessary, and would be unwise to extend them. Taking care always to keep ourselves, by suitable establishments, on a respectable defensive posture, we may safely trust to temporary alliances for extraordinary emergencies.

“Harmony, liberal intercourse with all nations, are recommended by policy, humanity, and interest. But even our commercial policy should hold an equal and impartial hand; neither seeking nor granting exclusive favors or preferences; consulting the natural course of things; diffusing and diversifying by gentle means the streams of commerce, but forcing nothing; establishing, with powers so disposed, in order to give trade a stable course, to define the rights of our merchants, and to enable the government to support them, conventional rules of intercourse, the best that present circumstances and mutual opinion will permit, but temporary, and liable to be from time to time abandoned or varied, as experience and circumstances shall dictate; constantly keeping in view, that it is folly in one nation to look for disinterested favors from another; that it must pay with a portion of its independence for whatever it may accept under that character; that, by such acceptance, it may place itself in the condition of having given equivalents for nominal favors, and yet of being reproached with ingratitude for not giving more. There can be no greater error than to expect, or calculate upon real favors from nation to nation. It is an illusion, which experience must cure, which a just pride ought to discard.

“In offering to you, my countrymen, these counsels of an old and affectionate friend, I dare not hope they will make the strong and lasting impression I could wish; that they will control the usual current of the passions, or prevent our nation from running the course, which has hitherto marked the destiny of nations. But, if I may even flatter myself, that they may be productive of some partial benefit, some occasional good; that they may now and then recur to moderate the fury of party spirit, to warn against the mischiefs of foreign intrigues, to guard against the impostures of pretended patriotism; this hope will be a full recompense for the solicitude for your welfare, by which they have been dictated. How far in the discharge of my official duties, I have been guided by the principles which have been delineated, the public records and other evidences of my conduct must witness to you and to the world. To myself, the assurance of my own conscience, that I have at least believed myself to be guided by them.

“In relation to the still subsisting war in Europe, my Proclamation of the twenty-second of April, 1793, is the index to my Plan. Sanctioned by your approving voice, and by that of your representatives in both houses of Congress, the spirit of that measure has continually governed me, uninfluenced by any attempts to deter or divert me from it. After deliberate examination, with the aid of the best lights I could obtain, I was well satisfied that our country, under all the circumstances of the case, had a right to take, and was bound in duty and interest to take, a neutral position. Having taken it, I determined, as far as should depend upon me, to maintain it, with moderation, perseverance, and firmness.

“The considerations, which respects the right to hold this conduct, it is not necessary, on this occasion, to detail. I will only observe, that, according to my understanding of the matter, that right, so far from being denied by any of the Belligerent Powers, has been virtually admitted by all. The duty of holding a neutral conduct may be inferred, without anything more, from the obligation which justice and humanity impose on every nation, in cases in which it is free to act, to maintain inviolate the relations of peace and amity toward other nations. The inducements of interest for observing that conduct will best be referred to your own reflection and experience. With me, a predominant motive has been to endeavor to gain time to our country to settle and mature its yet recent institutions, and to progress without interruption to that degree of strength and consistency which is necessary to give it, humanly speaking, the command of its own fortunes.

“Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error: I am, nevertheless, too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I shall also carry with me the hope, that my Country will never cease to view them with indulgence; and that, after forty-five years of my life dedicated to its service with an upright zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon be to the mansions of rest. Relying on its kindness in this as in other things, and actuated by that fervent love towards it, which is so natural to a man, who views in it the native soil of himself and his progenitors for several generations; I anticipate with pleasing expectation that retreat, in which I promise myself to realize, without alloy, the sweet enjoyment of partaking, in the midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws under a free government, the ever favorite object of my heart, and the happy reward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, labors, and dangers.

“George Washington. “United States, “September 17, 1796.”

There has been some discussion, within a few years past, concerning the authorship of Washington's Farewell Address, it having been claimed for General Hamilton, because a draught of it, varying but little in form and substance from the document under that title which we have given in the preceding pages, was found, in Hamilton's handwriting, among his papers, soon after his death in 1804.

The subject has been thoroughly examined by Horace Binney, Esq., of Philadelphia, in a volume of two hundred and fifty pages, published in the autumn of 1859. After a most searching analysis of every fact bearing upon the subject to be found in the writings of Washington, Madison, Hamilton, and others, he arrives at an inevitable conclusion, which he gives in the following words:—

“Washington was, undoubtedly, the original designer of the Farewell Address; and not merely by general or indefinite intimations, but by the suggestion of perfectly definite subjects, of an end or object, and of a general outline, the same which the paper now exhibits. His outline did not appear so distinctly in his own plan, because the subjects were not so arranged in it as to show that they were all comprehended within a regular and proportional figure; but when they came to be so arranged in the present Address, the scope of the whole design is seen to be contained within the limits he intended, and to fill them. The subjects were traced by him with adequate precision, though without due connection, with little expansion, and with little declared bearing of the parts upon each other, or toward a common centre; but they may now be followed with ease in their proper relations and bearing in the finished paper, such only excepted as he gave his final consent and approbation to exclude.

“In the most common and prevalent sense of the word among literary men, this may not, perhaps, be called authorship; but in the primary etymological sense—the quality of imparting growth or increase—there can be no doubt that it is so. By derivation from himself, the Farewell Address speaks the very mind of Washington. The fundamental thoughts and principles were his; but he was not the composer or writer of the paper.

“Hamilton was, in the prevalent literary sense, the composer and writer of the paper. The occasional adoption of Washington's language does not materially take from the justice of this attribution. The new plan, the different form, proceeded from Hamilton. He was the author of it. He put together the thoughts of Washington in a new order, and with a new bearing; and while, as often as he could, he used the words of Washington, his own language was the general vehicle, both of his own thoughts, and for the expansion and combination of Washington's thoughts. Hamilton developed the thoughts of Washington, and corroborated them—included several cognate subjects, and added many effective thoughts from his own mind, and united all into one chain by the links of his masculine logic.

“The main trunk was Washington's; the branches were stimulated by Hamilton; and the foliage, which was not exuberant, was altogether his: and he, more than Washington, pruned and nipped off, with severe discrimination, whatever was excessive—that the tree might bear the fruits which Washington desired, and become his full and fit representative....

“We have explicit authority for regarding the whole Man as compounded of Body, Soul, and Spirit. The Farewell Address, in a lower and figurative sense, is likewise so compounded. If these were divisible and distributable, we might, though not with full and exact propriety, allot the Soul to Washington, and the Spirit to Hamilton. The elementary body is Washington's, also; but Hamilton has developed and fashioned it, and he has symmetrically formed and arranged the members, to give combined and appropriate action to the whole. This would point to an allotment of the soul and the elementary body to Washington, and of the arranging, developing, and informing spirit, to Hamilton—the same characteristic which is found in the great works he devised for the country, and are still the chart by which his department of the government is ruled.

“The Farewell Address itself, while in one respect—the question of its authorship—it has had the fate of the Eikon Basilike, in another it has been more fortunate; for no Iconoclasts has appeared, or ever can appear, to break or mar the image and superscription of Washington, which it bears, or to sully the principles of the moral and political action in the government of a nation, which are reflected from it with his entire approval, and were, in fundamental points, dictated by himself.”—"An Inquiry into the Formation of Washington's Farewell Address,” by Horace Binney, page 169.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

TOP

washington at mount vernon—public matters claim his attention—monroe and the french government—his public reception as minister—the display disapproved of at home—his concessions to the french—his indiscreet promise of pecuniary aid—jay's mission—monroe asks jay for a copy of his treaty for the french government—jay's refusal—monroe offended—misapprehension and resentment of the french government—monroe recalled—mr. pinckney his successor—monroe's defence—washington's justification of his own course.

As we have observed, Washington enjoyed the pleasures of retirement and partial repose at Mount Vernon, for about two months in the summer of 1796. Yet he was not wholly free from the cares and anxieties incident to his official station. His Farewell Address to his countrymen, as we have seen, was then carefully prepared for the public consideration; but subjects of more immediate importance, connected with national affairs, demanded and received his attention.

Jay's treaty had relieved the country from all apprehension of immediate war with Great Britain, and, at the same time, it had increased the unfriendly feeling between the government of the United States and that of France. The latter had discovered that Washington's original proclamation of neutrality, and his efforts to preserve that position for his government, were sincere, and not, as had been hoped, mere tricks to deceive the British cabinet; and the French Directory, and their partisans in America, were disappointed and greatly chagrined.

For a long time the administrators of government in France, exercising a most intolerant and relentless despotism, had been jealous of every act of friendship, or even of leniency performed toward Great Britain by the Americans; and Mr. Monroe, an avowed partisan of France, was received, at first with distrust. But with singular adroitness, discretion, and good judgment, Monroe managed to place himself, very speedily, high in the estimation of the government to which he was accredited. We have already noticed, incidentally, his presentation of the American flag to the National Convention of France, and the reciprocity of the compliment by M. Adet, almost a year afterward. The inauguration of these courtesies by Monroe at Paris, had been immediately followed by a public display of national amity, in which the representative of the United States so thoroughly committed his government to a political alliance with France, as to make Washington's plan of neutrality appear like a piece of diplomatic finesse. It was ordained that the American minister should be formally received by the French government, in a public manner. He was, accordingly, introduced into the National Convention, where he presented a written address, glowing with the warmest expressions of friendship for France and the French people, and admiration of their magnanimity, their fortitude, their valor, and their wisdom.

To this the president of the convention replied, with even greater enthusiasm. He alluded to the union of the two governments, as “not merely a diplomatic alliance,” but as “the sweetest, the most frank fraternity”—“for ever indissoluble—for ever the dread of tyrants, the safeguard of the liberties of the world, and the preserver of all the social and philanthropic virtues.

“In bringing to us, citizen,” continued the president, “the pledge of this union, so dear to us, you could not fail to be received with the liveliest emotions. Five years ago, a usurper of the sovereignty of the people would have received you with the pride which belongs to vice, thinking it much to have given to the minister of a free people some token of an insolent protection. But to-day, the sovereign people themselves, by the organ of their faithful representatives, receive you; and you see the tenderness, the effusion of soul, that accompanies the simple and touching ceremony! I am impatient to give you the fraternal embrace, which I am ordered to give in the name of the French people. Come and receive it in the name of the American people, and let this spectacle complete the annihilation of an impious coalition of tyrants.”

At this affectionate appeal Monroe stepped forward, and received the president's “national embrace,” and afterward, the warm congratulations of the assembly. He was offered the confiscated house of one of the nobility as a place of residence; and, for a few days, he was the idol of the French people. Then came the less ethereal operations of the grave business of his office; and when the pageant was all over—the apotheosis completed—Mr. Monroe found himself afflicted with many cares, and assailed by many annoyances. Clamorous American ship-masters and merchants flocked to his diplomatic residence, and preferred urgent claims; some for cargoes which they had been compelled to sell to the French government, and some asking the liquidation of dishonored bills, drawn by French agents in America, in payment for provision shipped to France, or the French West Indies. In many forms complaints and claims were made by Monroe's countrymen upon the French government, and the minister found a host of unpleasant duties to perform, for he did not wish to break the charm of that “sweetest, most frank fraternity,” to the preservation of which he had so recently pledged his constituents. He, therefore, made some extraordinary concessions in relation to claims founded on breaches of the French treaty, in the seizure of enemy's goods in American vessels. He asked the French government to rescind the order authorizing such seizures, not because it would be just—be in accordance with treaty provisions—but because it would be for the pecuniary and commercial interests of France to do so. He was even so careful not to wound French pride, as to assure that government that he had no instructions to complain of that order as a breach of the treaty; and that, should it be thought productive of real benefit to France, the American government and people would bear it, not only with patience, but with pleasure.

When intelligence of Monroe's theatrical performances at his reception reached his government, it produced much mortification, and the secretary of state, in an official letter, suggested to him that the American cabinet expected nothing more than a private reception, and an oral speech; and reminded him that the government he was sent to represent was neutral, and that such a display might be offensive to other governments, especially to those of England and Spain, with both of whom important negotiations were then in progress. He was also reminded that circumstances might arise, when it would be necessary “to explain away or disavow an excess of fervor, so as to reduce it down to the cool system of neutrality.”

The French government, evidently insincere in their “national embraces,” and believing the other party to be equally so, determined to test the friendship of their allies. At that time the republic was heavily pressed with pecuniary embarrassments, and the United States were asked for a loan to relieve that pressure. Monroe, without the least particle of authority, unhesitatingly expressed his opinion, that his government would give to their dear ally any aid in their power to bestow; and he suggested three sources whence money might be obtained, namely: the separate states, the general government, and individuals. He went so far as to enter into a formal agreement concerning the equivalent in services, which France should give for such pecuniary aid, the most important of which was an active alliance in seizing the western posts still held by the British, and the conquest of the Louisiana country, inhabited by the French and Spanish, west of the Mississippi. France was also to assist the United States through a war with England and Spain, if one should occur. This would practically place the American republic in the position of an entire dependent upon the European one—a position utterly unnecessary, and incompatible with the interests and dignity of a free and independent nation.

Mr. Monroe urged his government to loan France five millions of dollars, in order to secure her good will and active alliance. But his proposition met with no favor at home, except among the ultra partisans of the French republic; and he was officially reminded that it had been, and still was, the invariable policy of the president to have his country as independent as possible of every nation upon the face of the earth—a policy which he had pursued from the beginning; “not assumed now for the first time, but wise at all times, and certain, if steadily pursued, to protect his country from the effects of commotions in Europe.”

Jay's mission, from the beginning, had produced uneasiness and distrust in the diplomatic circles of France and Spain, and perplexed Monroe and his political friends. Giving greater latitude to the spirit of his instructions than their letter could possibly warrant, Monroe assured the French government that Jay's authority was strictly limited to a demand of reparation for injuries; and this assurance produced the impression that Jay had no authority to conclude a treaty of navigation and commerce. Not more than a fortnight after Monroe made these assurances, intelligence came that a treaty of commerce had actually been negotiated with the British government, and signed by the contracting parties.

Mr. Monroe's imprudence, and his zeal in the cause of France, now placed him in an unpleasant dilemma. He received from Mr. Jay the assurance that he would soon send him, in cipher, the principal heads of the treaty. But that would not be sufficient to appease the offended French government, and Mr. Monroe immediately sent a confidential person to Mr. Jay for a complete copy of the document. “'Tis necessary to observe,” he said, “that as nothing will satisfy this government but a copy of the instrument itself, and which, as our ally, it thinks itself entitled to, so it will be useless for me to make to it any communication short of that. I mention this that you may know precisely the state of my engagements here, and how I deem it my duty to act under them, in relation to this object.”

Mr. Jay, as in duty bound, civilly declined to send a copy of the treaty; and in his reply to Mr. Monroe's letter, took the occasion to give that gentleman his views on national independence and the duties of ministers.

“You must be sensible,” he said, “that the United States, as a free and independent nation, have an unquestionable right to make any pacific arrangements with other powers which mutual convenience may dictate, provided those arrangements do not interdict or oppugn their prior engagements with other states.

“Whether this adjustment was consistent with our treaty with France? struck me as being the only question which would demand or receive the consideration of that republic; and I thought it due to the friendship subsisting between the two countries, that the French government should have, without delay, the most perfect satisfaction on that head.” He then referred to his former communications, and gave him the following exact and literal extract from the treaty:—

“Nothing in this treaty contained, shall, however, be construed or operate contrary to former and existing public treaties with other sovereigns or states.”

After speaking of his former intention to communicate to Mr. Monroe some of the most interesting particulars of the treaty, “but in the most perfect confidence,” Mr. Jay continued:—

“As that instrument has not yet been ratified, nor received the ultimate forms necessary to give it validity; as further questions respecting parts of it may yet arise, and give occasion to further discussions and negotiations, so that, if finally concluded at all, it may then be different from what it now is, the impropriety of making it public at present is palpable and obvious; such a proceeding would be inconvenient and unprecedented. It does not belong to ministers who negotiate treaties to publish them, even when perfected, much less treaties not yet completed, and remaining open to alteration or rejection. Such acts belong exclusively to the governments who form them.

“I can not but flatter myself, that the French government is too enlightened and reasonable to expect that any consideration ought to induce me to overleap the bounds of my authority, or to be negligent of the respect which is due to the United States. That respect, and my obligations to observe it, will not permit me to give, without the permission of their government, a copy of the instrument in question to any person, or for any purpose; and by no means for the purpose of being submitted to the consideration and judgment of the councils of a foreign nation, however friendly.”[104]

Soon after this, John Trumbull, Mr. Jay's secretary of legation, was about to pass through Paris, and he was authorized to make to Mr. Monroe a confidential communication concerning the provisions of the treaty. But the incensed minister refused to receive this or any communication in a form that he could not instantly lay before the French government. He afterward attempted to obtain a copy of the treaty from Thomas Pinckney, who passed through Paris on his way to Spain, but that gentleman would not betray Jay's confidence, and Monroe and the French government were compelled to wait until the authorized publication of the treaty the following summer.

Mr. Monroe felt himself aggrieved by what he deemed the want of confidence in him by the president and his cabinet, who had appointed him. He felt that the administration had injured him; and that the honor and credit of the United States were compromised by their refusal to redeem his promises of aid to the French republic, their “ally and friend.” His first and natural impulse was to resign his post, but alleged patriotic, as well as personal considerations, induced him to remain. He held the most intimate private relations with the members of the Committee of Public Safety and other officers of the French government, and appears to have enjoyed their confidence while he remained there. But, whether from his undue attachment to the French republic, his opposition to Jay's treaty, or his mistaken notions of American interests, Mr. Monroe appears to have done little, after his correspondence with Mr. Jay, to allay ill feeling toward his country on the part of the French government. He had been specially instructed, when sent envoy to France, to explain the views and conduct of the government of the United States in forming the treaty with England; and for this purpose ample documents were furnished him. But it appears from his own letters (published in his defence after his return, in 1796),[105] that he omitted to use them. Uninstructed in the truths which should have been given them, the French government utterly misinterpreted the actions and misconceived the views of the United States; and when informed that the house of representatives would execute the treaty made by Jay, they became very bitter in their resentment, and exhibited their animosity by allowing a French privateer to capture an American merchant-vessel.

Washington and his cabinet were satisfied that the amity between the two nations would be wholly destroyed, if Mr. Monroe should remain longer in France, as the accredited representative of his government, and his recall was resolved upon.[106] To choose a proper person required great caution, sagacity, and discretion. It was the duty of the president to make the choice, and to take the responsibility of his appointment, the Congress not being in session. With great care, after consultation, he contemplated the character of his contemporaries in public life, and fixed upon two—John Marshall and Charles Cotesworth Pinckney—either of whom he considered well fitted for the responsible and delicate station. Marshall was the first choice, but private considerations compelled him to decline, when the president addressed the following letter to Mr. Pinckney:—

“The situation of affairs, and the interests of this country, as they relate to France, render it indispensably necessary that a faithful organ near that government, able and willing to explain its views, and to ascertain those of France, should immediately fill the place of our present minister plenipotentiary in Paris. Policy requires that this character, to be essentially serviceable, should be well attached to the government of his own country, and not obnoxious to the one to which he is sent. Where, then, can a man be found that would answer this description better than yourself?

“It is a fact too notorious to be denied, that the greatest embarrassments under which the administration of this government labors, proceed from the counteraction of people among ourselves, who are more disposed to promote the views of another nation, than to establish a national character of their own; and that, unless the virtuous and independent men of this country will come forward, it is not difficult to predict the consequences. Such is my decided opinion....

“Had not the case been important and urgent, I might have hesitated longer; but, in finding a character of the description I have mentioned, you will be at no loss to perceive the difficulty which occurs. He must be a man whose abilities and celebrity of character are well known to the people of this country, whose honor and integrity are unimpeached, and who ought, as far as the nature of the case will admit, to be acceptable to all parties. Doubtless many such there are; but those who have been either in the legislative or executive departments of the general government, and are best known to me, have been so decisive in their politics, and, possibly, so frank and public in their declarations, as to render it very difficult to choose from among them one in whom the confidence of this country could be placed, and the prejudices of the others not excited.”

Mr. Pinckney accepted the appointment, and made immediate preparations for his departure for France. “Though my affairs have not, hitherto, been arranged as I could wish them,” he said in his letter of acceptance, “the manner in which you state our political situation, and the interests of this country as they relate to France, oblige me to accept your appointment without hesitation. I am only apprehensive that your friendship has been too partial to the little merit I may possess, and that matters intrusted to me may fail through my want of ability.”

Monroe had the misfortune to lose the confidence of his own government and that of the French republic at about the same time. Hoping that the house of representatives would refuse to execute the British treaty, and thus appease the French Directory, he had been quiet for some time, when, in February, 1796, he received a communication from De La Croix, the French minister for foreign affairs, informing him, that since the ratification of Jay's treaty, the Directory considered the alliance between France and the United States at an end; that Adet was to be recalled, and a special minister was to be sent out to make the announcement, and act as agent for his government. It was intimated, too, that Monroe could not fulfil the promises he had made, and that all the assurances of his inaugural as minister were fallacious. Monroe remonstrated, and in a special interview with the Directory, professed his willingness to answer all objections that might be made against the treaty. He was soon afterward furnished with a report on the subject of American relations, signed by De La Croix, in which the government was charged with the non-execution of treaty obligations, in several particulars. To these charges Monroe made a reply, which Washington considered very satisfactory: but it did not change the course of the Directory; and in the autumn they issued an “arret,” ordering the seizure of British property found on board American vessels, and of provisions bound for England. This was a direct violation of the provisions of the treaty between the United States and France, and exhibited a disposition decidedly hostile.

This correspondence reached the president soon after his appointment of Pinckney as Monroe's successor; and a little later he received a letter from Mr. Monroe, written in cipher, on the twenty-fourth of March, which had been unaccountably delayed in its transmission. In that communication Monroe took occasion to say, that a long, private letter, written by Washington to Gouverneur Morris toward the close of December, 1795, had got into the hands of the French Directory, and produced an ill effect. Washington replied to this letter on the twenty-fifth of August. He acknowledged the genuineness of the letter; “but,” he said, “I deny that there is anything contained in it that the French government could take exception to, unless the expression of an ardent wish that the United States might remain in peace with all the world, taking no part in the disputes of any part of it, should have produced this effect. I also gave it as my further opinion, that the sentiments of the mass of citizens in this country were in unison with mine.

“Confidential as this letter was expected to be, I have no objection to its being seen by anybody; and there is some mistake in saying I had no copy thereof, when there is a press one now before me, in which I discover no expression that in the eye of liberality and candor would be deemed objectionable.”

After summing up the substance of his letter, Washington said, in conclusion: “My conduct in public and private life, as it relates to the important struggle in which the latter nation is engaged, has been uniform from the commencement of it, and may be summed up in a few words: that I have always wished well to the French Revolution; that I have always given it as my decided opinion, that no nation had a right to intermeddle in the internal concerns of another; that every one had a right to form and adopt whatever government they like best to live under themselves; and that, if this country could, consistently with its engagements, maintain a strict neutrality, and thereby preserve peace, it was bound to do so by motives of policy, interest, and every other consideration that ought to actuate a people situated as we are, already deeply in debt, and in a convalescent state from the struggle we have been engaged in ourselves.

“On these principles I have steadily and uniformly proceeded, bidding defiance to calumnies calculated to sow seeds of distrust in the French nation, and to excite their belief of an influence possessed by Great Britain in the councils of this country, than which nothing is more unfounded and injurious.”

FOOTNOTES:

[104] Letter of Jay to Monroe, dated February 5, 1795.—Life and Writings of John Jay, vol. i., page 336.

[105] Entitled “A View of the Conduct of the Executive of the United States, connected with the Mission to the French Republic, during the Years 1794, '5, & '6.”

[106] Washington asked the opinion of his cabinet on the subject of a change of ministers, and at a meeting on the second of July, the three secretaries, Pickering, Wolcott, and M'Henry, addressed a letter to him, in which they said:—

“On the expediency of this change we are agreed. We think the great interests of the United States require, that they have near the French government some faithful organ to explain their real views, and to ascertain those of the French. Our duty obliges us to be explicit. Although the present minister plenipotentiary of the United States at Paris has been amply furnished with documents, to explain the views and conduct of the United States, yet his own letters authorize us to say, that he has omitted to use them, and thereby exposed the United States to all the mischiefs which could flow from jealous and erroneous conceptions of their views and conduct. Whether this dangerous omission arose from such an attachment to the cause of France as rendered him too little mindful of the interests of his own country, or from mistaken views of the latter, or from any other cause, the evil is the same. We, therefore, conceive it to be indispensably necessary, that the present minister plenipotentiary of the United States at Paris should be recalled, and another American citizen appointed in his stead.... In confirmation of our opinion of the expediency of recalling Mr. Monroe, we think the occasion requires that we communicate a private letter from him, which came to our hands since you left Philadelphia. This letter corresponds with other intelligence of his political opinions and conduct. A minister who has thus made the notorious enemies of the whole system of government his confidential correspondents in matters which affect that government, can not be relied on to do his duty to the latter. This private letter we received in confidence. Among other circumstances that will occur to your recollection, the anonymous letters from France to Thomas Blount and others are very noticeable. We know that Montflorence was the writer, and that he was the chancellor of the consul Skipwith; and, from the connection of Mr. Monroe with those persons, we can entertain no doubt the anonymous letters were written with his privity.

“These anonymous communications from officers of the United States in a foreign country, on matters of a public nature, and which deeply concern the interests of the United States in relation to that foreign country, are proofs of sinister designs, and show that the public interests are no longer safe in the hands of such men.”

The attorney-general, in his letter to the president, said: “I have formed an opinion that our minister plenipotentiary at Paris ought not to be permitted to continue there any longer, than until the arrival of his successor; and that it is not only expedient, but absolutely necessary, that he should be immediately recalled, and another minister appointed. Upon this subject I concur in sentiment with the heads of departments, as expressed in their letter of the second instant.”

The attorney-general then gave, as reasons for his opinion—First, that “from his letters in the office of the department of state, it appears he has neglected or failed to justify, or truly represent, to the republic of France the conduct and motives of his own country, relative to the treaty with Great Britain.” Secondly, that “his correspondence with the executive of the United States has been, and is, infrequent, unsatisfactory, reserved, and without cordiality or confidence on his part.”

“I might add other reasons, if they were necessary,” continued the attorney-general; “for instance, that he corresponds less confidentially with the executive of the United States, than with the opposers and libellers of his administration; and that there is too much reason to believe he is furthering the views of a faction in America, more than the peace and happiness of the United States.”

CHAPTER XXXV.

TOP

presidential election approaching—method of election—measures of political parties—spurious letters republished—washington's farewell address published—reception of the address—affection of the people—candidates for the presidency—cockade proclamation—adet's charges against the government—appeal to the passions—meeting of congress—the president's last annual message—its recommendations—military academy—west point—relations with france—answer of the two houses of congress—praise of washington and his administration opposed—his friends in a large majority—personal abuse—malignant letter from thomas paine, and adet's pamphlet—washington's remarks on their publication.

The appointed hour for a new presidential election was now drawing near. At that time no nomination for chief-magistrate was formally made, nor officially announced. The letter of the constitution was adhered to, and the people were called upon to choose electors only, who, when they should meet at the time specified by the constitution, should ballot for whomsoever they pleased for president. Yet the politicians and the leaders of parties in the Congress usually held up to the view of the people candidates who afterward received the consideration of the electoral college. The electors were therefore chosen in reference, first, to their partisan character, and secondly, to their partiality to some particular man prominent in the political field.

It was well known to Washington's more intimate friends, that he would not consent to re-election. His reserve on that subject, and the long delay in making a public announcement of his intention to retire to private life puzzled the politicians. The president's political enemies were more active than ever. We have already noticed the publication of certain queries proposed by Washington to his cabinet, respecting the reception of Genet, by which it was hoped to prejudice him in the public mind by proving, by implication, his hostility to France. Another weapon used by his unscrupulous enemies, for the purpose of degrading him in the eyes of the American people, was the republication of a series of spurious letters, purporting to have been written by Washington. They were first published in London, in 1777, and republished in Rivington's Royal Gazette, in February, 1778. These letters, it was charged, were written by Washington from the army to members of his family, in which he expressed private views of public affairs quite inconsistent with his acts as commander-in-chief, or his professions as a patriot. It was alleged that Billy, his body-servant, had been captured, and that these letters, or copies of them, were found in a portmanteau in the servant's possession. But the original fabricator of the letters missed his aim. It was well known that Billy had never been in the hands of the enemy;[107] and, in a short time, this attempt to injure Washington was forgotten, and the letters were buried in oblivion. But the hyena of political partisanship dragged them from the grave almost twenty years later, and they were republished with a new title,[108] and put forth as genuine, very soon after the appearance of two volumes of Washington's official letters, which had been copied, by permission, in the office of the secretary of state, carried to London, and there printed.

In order to give more force to the intended effect of these spurious letters, a preface to the new edition was carefully written, which contained the following paragraph:—

“Since the publication of the two volumes of General Washington's 'Original Letters to the Congress,' the editor has been repeatedly applied to for the general's 'Domestic and Confidential Epistles,' first published soon after the beginning of the American war. These epistles are here offered to the public, together with a copious appendix, containing a number of official letters and papers, not to be found in the general's original letters above noticed; but the collection must certainly be looked upon as in a mutilated state, so long as it remains unaccompanied with the epistles, etc., which are now respectfully submitted to the patronage of the public, and which form a supplement absolutely necessary to make the work complete. That this collection of 'Domestic and Confidential Epistles' will be regarded as a valuable acquisition by a very great majority of the citizens of the United States, is presumable from the prevailing taste of all well-informed people. Men not precluded by ignorance from every degree of literary curiosity, will always feel a solicitude to become acquainted with whatever may serve to throw light on illustrious personages. History represents them acting on the stage of the world, courting the applause of mankind. To see them in their real character we must follow them behind the scenes, among their private connections and domestic concerns.”

Nothing in our modern political warfare has equalled, in meanness and moral turpitude, this assassin-stab at the character of a public man. Washington, with proper dignity, treated it as he had done other slanders, with that contemptuous silence which it deserved. But that very silence was construed into an acknowledgment of the truth of the words of the calumny. “The malignant commentators on this spurious text,” says Marshall, “would not admit the possibility of its being apocryphal.”

While political and partisan abuse was pouring most copiously upon the head of the president, his Farewell Address appeared. It was published, as we have seen, at about the middle of September, and produced a great sensation throughout the country. The ribald voice of party-spirit was for a moment subdued in tone, if not silenced, for it was deprived of the theme of Washington's renomination, which had been a convenient excuse for attacks upon his character. In every part of the Union sentiments of veneration for the author were manifested. Some of the state legislatures directed the address to be entered at large upon their journals. It was published in every newspaper in the land, and in many of those in foreign countries; and in legislative bodies and social and diplomatic circles abroad, it was for some time a fruitful topic of remark. From the time of its publication until the expiration of the term of his presidency, Washington received public addresses from all the state legislatures which were convened within that period. Many public bodies, also, addressed him with affectionate words, expressing cordial approbation of his conduct during the eight years that he had filled the office of chief-magistrate of the nation.[109]

Already the strong hold which his person and character had taken of the affections of his countrymen had been fully evinced. Names of men having great political influence had been held up to the people in several states as his successor, but were not satisfactory. “In districts where the opposition to his administration was most powerful,” says Marshall, “where all his measures were most loudly condemned; where those who approved his system possessed least influence; the men who appeared to control public opinion on every other subject found themselves unable to move it on this. Even the most popular among the leaders of the opposition were reduced to the necessity of surrendering their pretensions to a place in the electoral body, or of pledging themselves to bestow their suffrages on the actual president. The determination of his fellow-citizens had been unequivocally manifested, and it was believed to be apparent that the election would again be unanimous, when he announced his resolution to withdraw from the honors and the toils of office.”

“The president declining to be again elected,” wrote Oliver Wolcott, “constitutes a most important epoch in our national affairs. The country meet the event with reluctance, but they do not feel that they can make any claim for the further services of a man who has conducted their armies through a successful war; has so largely contributed to establish a national government; has so long presided over our councils and directed the public administration, and in the most advantageous manner settled all national differences, and who can leave the administration when nothing but our folly and internal discord can render the country otherwise than happy.”

The federalists and republicans now marshalled their forces for the election. Their respective chiefs were brought forward. John Adams, whose official station placed him in the line of promotion, and whose public services, ability, and sterling integrity were well known to the nation, was the choice of the federalists for the presidency, and Thomas Pinckney, the accomplished diplomat, for the vice-presidency. The republican party chose Mr. Jefferson, to use a modern political phrase, as their standard-bearer. With these names as watchwords, the party leaders went into the contest for presidential electors in November. That contest was warm in every doubtful state. The parties seemed equally balanced, and the final result of the action of the electoral college, unlike the operations of the canvass in our day, could not be determined beforehand.

While the canvass was in progress, Adet, the French minister, imitating Genet, attempted to influence the political action of the American people. The British treaty, the recall of Monroe, and the appointment of Pinckney as his successor at Paris, offended him, and a few weeks after the departure of Pinckney, he made a formal communication of the decree of his government, already mentioned, which evinced a spirit of hostility. In his accompanying letter he entered into an elaborate defence of the decree, and renewed complaints which he had before urged, that British ships-of-war were allowed to recruit their crews by pressing into their service sailors from American vessels. Further imitating Genet, by appealing to the people, Adet sent his communication to be printed in the Aurora, at the same time that it was forwarded to the state department. This was followed, in the course of a few days, by a proclamation, signed by Adet, calling upon all Frenchmen residing in America, in the name of the French Directory, to wear the tri-colored cockade, which he termed “the symbol of a liberty the fruit of eight years' toil and five years' victories;” and assured those he addressed, that any Frenchman who should hesitate to comply, should not be allowed the aid of French consular chanceries, or the national protection. Immediately after this “cockade proclamation” was issued, that token of attachment to the French republic abounded. It was worn by many Americans as well as Frenchmen, and it became the badge of party distinction for several years.

Adet followed up his proclamation by another missile, sent simultaneously to the state department and the Aurora, demanding “the execution of that contract [treaty of 1778] which assured to the United States their existence, and which France regarded as the pledge of the most sacred union between two people, the freest upon earth.” He assumed that his government was “terrible to its enemies, but generous to its allies,” and prefaced his summary of alleged violations of the international compact, by a flourish of rhetoric intended to impress the American people.

“When Europe rose up against the republic, at its birth,” he said, “and menaced it with all the horrors of famine; when on every side France could not calculate on any but enemies, their thoughts turned toward America, and a sweet sentiment then mingled itself with those proud feelings which the presence of danger, and the desire of repelling it, produced in their hearts. In Americans they saw friends. Those who went to brave tempests and death upon the ocean, forgot all dangers in order to indulge the hope of visiting that American continent where, for the first time, the French colors had been displayed in favor of liberty. Under the guaranty of the law of nations, under the protecting shade of a solemn treaty, they expected to find in the ports of the United States an asylum as sure as at home; they thought, if I may use the expression, there to find a second country. The French government thought as they did. O hope worthy of a faithful people, how hast thou been deceived! So far from offering the French the succors which friendship might have given without compromising itself, the American government, in this respect, violated the obligations of treaties.”

This exordium was followed by a summary of instances of bad faith on the part of the United States, beginning, as he said, with the president's “insidious proclamation of neutrality,” and aggravated by the late treaty with Great Britain. Adet announced the fact that the French Directory, as an expression of their dissatisfaction with what they considered equivalent to a treaty of alliance between the United States and Great Britain, had given him orders to suspend his ministerial functions, and to return home. “But the cause,” he added, “which had so long restrained the just resentment of the executive directory from bursting forth, now tempered its effects. The name of America, notwithstanding the wrongs of its government, still excited sweet emotions in the hearts of Frenchmen; and the executive directory wished not to break with a people whom they loved to salute with the appellation of a friend.” Therefore, the suspension of his functions was not to be regarded as a rupture between France and the United States, but as a mark of just discontent, which was to last until the government of the United States “returned to sentiments and to measures more conformable to the interests of the alliance, and to the sworn friendship between the two nations.”

This extraordinary letter closed with the following peroration, intended to stimulate the anti-British feeling among the Americans, and to influence the action of the electoral college in their choice of chief-magistrate of the republic:—

“Alas! time has not yet demolished the fortifications with which the English roughened this country, nor those the Americans raised for their defence; their half-rounded summits still appear in every quarter, amid plains, on the tops of mountains. The traveller need not search for the ditch which served to encompass them; it is still open under his feet. Scattered ruins of houses laid waste, which the fire had partly respected, in order to leave monuments of British fury, are still to be found. Men still exist who can say, 'Here a ferocious Englishman slaughtered my mother; there my wife tore her bleeding daughter from the hands of an unbridled Englishman!' Alas! the soldiers who fell under the sword of the Britons are not yet reduced to dust; the laborer, in turning up his fields, still draws from the bosom of the earth their whitened bones, while the ploughman, with tears of tenderness and gratitude, still recollects that his fields, now covered with rich harvests, have been moistened with French blood; while everything around the inhabitants of this country animates them to speak of the tyranny of Great Britain, and of the generosity of Frenchmen; when England had declared a war of death, to revenge herself on France for having consecrated with her blood the independence of the United States; at such a moment their government makes a treaty of amity with their ancient tyrant, the implacable enemy of their ancient ally! O Americans! covered with noble scars! O you, who have so often flown to death and to victory with French soldiers! you who know those genuine sentiments which distinguish the true warrior! whose hearts have always vibrated with those of your companions in arms! consult them to-day to know what they experience. Recollect, also, that magnanimous souls, if they resent an affront with liveliness, know also how to forget one. Let your government return to itself, and you will still find in Frenchmen faithful friends and generous allies!”

The second session of the fourth Congress convened on the fifth of December, and Washington met both houses, for the last time, on the seventh. His message was short, but comprehensive, dignified, and temperate. He took a general view of the condition of the country, in which he adverted to the existing relations with the Indians; the delay in delivering up the western posts, according to the provisions of Jay's treaty; the proceedings of the commissioners to determine the northeastern boundary of the United States; the action of other commissioners under the treaty; the appointment of agents to reside in Great Britain and the West Indies, “for the protection and relief of American seamen;” and the relations with Algiers. He urged an increase of the naval force of the United States as indispensable. “It is in our own experience,” he said, “that the most sincere neutrality is not a sufficient guard against the depredations of nations at war. To secure respect to a neutral flag requires a naval force, organized and ready to vindicate it from insult or aggression. This may even prevent the necessity of going to war, by discouraging belligerent powers from committing such violations of the rights of the neutral party, as may, first or last, leave no other option.” He advised them to “begin, without delay, to provide and lay up the materials for the building and equipping of ships-of-war,” and to be prepared for all future contingencies.

He urged upon them the importance of measures for fostering and encouraging domestic manufactures, especially those articles which might be needed in the event of war. “Ought our country,” he said, “to remain in such cases dependent on foreign supply, precarious, because liable to be interrupted? If the necessary articles should, in this mode, cost more in time of peace, will not the security and independence thence arising form an ample compensation?”

He also recommended the fostering care of the government in promoting agriculture, the predominant interest of the country. “In proportion as nations advance in population and other circumstances of maturity,” he said, “this truth becomes more apparent, and renders the cultivation of the soil more an object of public patronage. Institutions grow up supported by the public purse; and to what object can it be dedicated with greater propriety?”

He again urged the expediency of establishing a national university and a military academy. “However pacific the general policy of the nation may be,” he said, in reference to the military school, “it ought never to be without an adequate stock of military knowledge for emergencies. The first would impair the energies of its character, and both would hazard its safety, or expose it to greater evils when war could not be avoided. Besides, that war might not depend upon its own choice. In proportion as the observance of pacific maxims might exempt a nation from the necessity of practising the rules of the military art, ought to be its care in preserving and transmitting, by proper establishments, the knowledge of that art. Whatever argument may be drawn from particular examples, superficially viewed, a thorough examination of the subject will evince, that the art of war is at once comprehensive and complicated; that it demands much previous study; and that the possession of it in its most improved and perfect state, is always of great moment to the security of a nation. This, therefore, ought to be a serious care of every government.” These and former suggestions on this subject made by Washington, were finally acted upon by the Congress, and in March, 1802, an act was passed for the establishment of such an institution at West Point, in the Hudson Highlands.[110] But little was done, however, until the breaking out of war, in 1812, when a corps of professors was appointed, and the institution was organized.

Washington made the following temperate remarks, in his message, concerning the disputes with France: “While, in our external relations, some serious inconveniences and embarrassments have been overcome, and others lessened, it is with much pain and deep regret I mention, that circumstances of a very unwelcome nature have lately occurred. Our trade has suffered, and is suffering, extensive injuries in the West Indies, from the cruisers and agents of the French republic; and communications have been received from its minister here, which indicate the danger of a further disturbance of our commerce by its authority; and which are, in other respects, far from agreeable. It has been my constant, sincere, and earnest wish, in conformity with that of our nation, to maintain cordial harmony, and a perfect friendly understanding with that republic. The wish remains unabated; and I shall persevere in the endeavor to fulfil it, to the utmost extent of what shall be consistent with a just and indispensable regard to the rights and honor of our country; nor will I easily cease to cherish the expectation, that a spirit of justice, candor, and friendship, on the part of the republic, will eventually insure success. In pursuing this course, however, I can not forget what is due to the character of our government and nation; or to a full and entire confidence in the good sense, patriotism, self-respect, and fortitude of my countrymen.”

In conclusion Washington observed: “The situation in which I now stand, for the last time, in the midst of the representatives of the people of the United States, naturally recalls the period when the administration of the present form of government commenced; and I can not omit the occasion to congratulate you, and my country, on the success of the experiment, nor to repeat my fervent supplication to the Supreme Ruler of the Universe, and Sovereign Arbiter of Nations, that his providential care may still be extended to the United States; that the virtue and happiness of the people may be preserved; and that the government which they have instituted for the protection of their liberties may be perpetual.”

The answer of the senate to this speech embraced all of its topics, and approved every sentiment it contained. After alluding to the prosperous condition of the United States, especially in their domestic relations, the senate said: “While contemplating the causes that produce this auspicious result, we must acknowledge the excellence of the constitutional system, and the wisdom of the legislative provisions; but we should be deficient in gratitude and justice, did we not attribute a great portion of these advantages to the virtue, firmness, and talents of your administration, which have been conspicuously displayed in the most trying times, and on the most critical occasions: it is, therefore, with the sincerest regrets that we now receive an official notification of your intentions to retire from the public employments of your country.

“When we review the various scenes of your public life, so long and so successfully devoted to the most arduous services, civil and military, as well during the struggles of the American Revolution as the convulsive periods of a recent date, we can not look forward to your retirement without our warmest affections and most anxious regards accompanying you; and without mingling, with our fellow-citizens at large, in the sincerest wishes for your personal happiness that sensibility and attachment can express. The most effectual consolation that can offer for the loss we are about to sustain, arises from the animating reflection that the influence of your example will extend to your successors, and the United States will thus continue to enjoy an able, upright, and energetic administration.”

The reply of the house was equally warm in personal compliments. “We have ever concurred with you,” they said, “in the most sincere and uniform disposition to preserve our neutral relations inviolate, and it is, of course, with anxiety and deep regret we hear that any interruption of our harmony with the French republic has occurred; for we feel, with you and with our constituents, the cordial and unabated wish to maintain a perfect friendly understanding with that nation. Your endeavors to fulfil that wish, and by all honorable means to preserve peace, and to restore that harmony and affection which have heretofore so happily subsisted between the French republic and the United States, can not fail, therefore, to interest our attention. And while we participate in the full reliance you have expressed in the patriotism, self-respect, and fortitude of our countrymen, we cherish the pleasing hope that a mutual spirit of justice and moderation will insure the success of your perseverance.

“When we advert to the internal situation of the United States,” they continued, “we deem it equally natural and becoming to compare the present period with that immediately antecedent to the operation of the government, and to contrast it with the calamities in which the state of war still involves several of the European nations, as the reflections deduced from both tend to justify as well as to excite a warmer admiration of our free constitution, and to exalt our minds to a more fervent and grateful sense of piety toward Almighty God for the beneficence of his providence, by which its administration has been hitherto so remarkably distinguished.

“And while we entertain a grateful conviction that your wise, firm, and patriotic administration has been signally conducive to the success of the present form of government, we can not forbear to express the deep sensations of regret with which we contemplate your intended retirement from office.

“As no other suitable occasion may occur, we can not suffer the present to pass without attempting to disclose some of the emotions which it can not fail to awaken. The gratitude and admiration of your countrymen are still drawn to the recollection of those resplendent virtues and talents which were so eminently instrumental to the achievements of the Revolution, and of which that glorious event will ever be the memorial. Your obedience to the voice of duty and your country, when you quitted, reluctantly, a second time, the retreat you had chosen, and accepted the presidency, afforded a new proof of the devotedness of your zeal in its service, and an earnest of the patriotism and success which have characterized your administration. As the grateful confidence of the citizens in the virtues of their chief-magistrate has essentially contributed to that success, we persuade ourselves that the millions whom we represent participate with us in the anxious solicitude of the present occasion.

“Yet we can not be unmindful that your moderation and magnanimity, twice displayed, by retiring from your exalted stations, afford examples no less rare and instructive to mankind, than valuable to a republic. Although we are sensible that this event, of itself, completes the lustre of a character already conspicuously unrivalled by the coincidence of virtue, talents, success, and public estimation; yet we conceive we owe it to you, sir, and still more emphatically to ourselves, and to our nation (of the language of whose hearts we presume to think ourselves, at this moment, the faithful interpreters), to express the sentiments with which it is contemplated.

“The spectacle of a free and enlightened nation offering, by its representatives, the tribute of unfeigned approbation to its First Citizen, however novel and interesting it may be, derives all its lustre (a lustre which accident or enthusiasm could not bestow, and which adulation would tarnish) from the transcendent merit of which it is the voluntary testimony.

“May you long enjoy that liberty which is so dear to you, and to which your name will ever be so dear; may your own virtues and a nation's prayers obtain the happiest sunshine for the decline of your days, and the choicest of future blessings. For our country's sake, for the sake of republican liberty, it is our earnest wish that your example may be the guide of your successors; and thus, after being the ornament and safeguard of the present age, become the patrimony of our descendants.”

When the committee presented this address to the house, some of the more zealous of the opposition, among whom was Mr. Giles, of Virginia, warmly opposed it. He moved that the whole of it in which the character and influence of the president were eulogized should be expunged. He expressed his belief that the want of “wisdom and firmness” in the administration had conducted the affairs of the nation to a crisis which threatened greater calamities than any that had before occurred. He did not regret the president's retiring from office. He hoped he would do so, and enjoy the happiness that awaited him in retirement. He believed that it would more conduce to that happiness that he should retire, than if he should remain in office. He believed that the government of the United States, founded on the broad basis of the people, required no single man to administer it. The people were competent to manage governmental affairs; and they would be in a calamitous situation indeed, if one man were essential to the existence of the government. He believed that there were a thousand men in the United States capable of filling the presidential chair, and he was willing to trust to the discernment of the people in making a proper choice. Though the voice of all America should declare the president's retiring a calamity, he could not join in the declaration, because he did not conceive it to be a misfortune. He had always, he said, disapproved of the measures of the administration in regard to foreign relations, and so had many members of the house, and he should not now disavow former opinions, without being first convinced of having been in error. He perceived more cause than ever for adhering to his old opinions. The course of events had pointed out their propriety; and, if he was not much mistaken, a crisis was at hand which would confirm them. He desired gentlemen who were willing to compliment the president to have some respect for the feelings of others.

The administration party in the house strenuously opposed the motion to expunge. They admitted that there might be many who were able to fill the presidential chair with equal ability with Washington, but there was not one who possessed, in a similar degree, the confidence of the people. The regrets of his constituents, because of his proposed retirement, had been expressed in every part of the Union, and the voice of the people coincided with the sentiments of the address. The motion to expunge was lost by a large majority. Only twelve members recorded themselves in the affirmative, among whom was Andrew Jackson, who had just taken his seat in the house, as a representative of Tennessee.

While Adet was fulminating his thunders against the administration, and the opposition in the house were doing all in their power to injure the president, the Aurora newspaper was pouring out its venom with increased malignity. “If ever a nation was debauched by a man,” said a correspondent of that paper, on the twenty-third of December, “the American nation has been debauched by Washington. If ever a nation was deceived by a man, the American nation has been deceived by Washington. Let his conduct, then, be an example to future ages. Let it serve to be a warning that no man may be an idol. Let the history of the federal government instruct mankind, that the mask of patriotism may be worn to conceal the foulest designs against the liberties of the people.”

At about the same time, a malignant pamphlet, in the form of a letter from Thomas Paine to Washington, was issued from the office of the Aurora. Paine had been a member of the National Assembly of France, and thrown into prison. Application had been made to the United States government for his release, but, as in the case of Lafayette, it could do nothing. This seeming neglect kindled the ire of Paine, who had, at this time, become an habitual drunkard. He had, in consequence, also become morose in disposition, and dogmatical in his opinions to an insufferable degree. Monroe sympathized with him; and under his roof, in Paris, Paine wrote the virulent letter alluded to, and sent it to Bache, of the Aurora, to print and disseminate. The following extract will be sufficient to exhibit its tone and temper:—

“The part I acted in the American Revolution is well known; I shall not here repeat it. I know, also, that had it not been for the aid received from France in men, money, and ships, that your cold and unmilitary conduct (as I shall show in the course of this letter) would, in all probability, have lost America; at least she would not have been the independent nation she now is. You slept away your time in the field till the finances of the country were completely exhausted, and you have but little share in the glory of the final event. It is time, sir, to speak the undisguised language of historical truth.

“Elevated to the chair of the presidency, you assumed the merit of everything to yourself, and the natural ingratitude of your constitution began to appear. You commenced your presidential career by encouraging and swallowing the grossest adulation; and you travelled America, from one end to the other, to put yourself in the way of receiving it. You have as many addresses in your chest as James the Second. As to what were your views (for if you are not great enough to have ambition, you are little enough to have vanity) they can not be directly inferred from expressions of your own; but the partisans of your politics have divulged the secret.”

How false and malignant are the assertions in this paragraph (which is a fair specimen of the whole letter), the readers of these volumes well know. It appears strange that a gentleman like Monroe, who was afterward an honored chief-magistrate of the republic, should have been so infatuated as to allow such a libel to go from under his roof.

The Aurora press also issued a pamphlet at this time, entitled “Notes from Citizen Adet, Minister Plenipotentiary of the French Republic near the United States of America, to the Secretary of State of the United States.” It was printed in French, with an English translation facing each page. It contained the correspondence to which we have alluded, and occupied, in the two languages, ninety-five pages. In reference to this pamphlet, Washington wrote to his friend, Doctor Stuart, early in January:—

“As to what effect M. Adet's conduct has had, or will have, on the public mind, you can form a better opinion than myself. One of the objects which he had in view, in timing the publication, is too apparent to require explanation. Some of his own zealots do not scruple to confess that he has been too precipitate, and thereby injured the cause he meant to enforce; which is to establish such an influence in this country as to sway the government, and to control its measures. Evidences of this design are abundant, and new proofs are exhibiting themselves to illustrate the fact; and yet, lamentable thought! a large party, under real or pretended fears of British influence, are moving heaven and earth to aid him in his designs. It is a fact well known, for history proves it, that from the restless temper of the French, and the policy of that nation, they attempt openly or covertly, by threats or soothing professions, to influence the conduct of most governments. That they have attempted it with us a little time will show. But, finding that a neutral conduct had been adopted, and would not be relinquished by those who administered the government, the next step was to try the people; and to work upon them, several presses and many scribblers have been employed to emblazon the improper acts of the British government and its officers, and to place them in all the most exaggerated and odious points of view of which they were susceptible; to complain that there was not only a deficiency of friendship, but a want of justice also, in the executive toward France, the cause of which, say they, is to be found in a predilection for Great Britain. This not working so well as was expected, from a supposition that there was too much confidence in, and, perhaps, personal regard for, the present chief-magistrate and his politics, the batteries latterly have been levelled at him particularly and personally. Although he is soon to become a private citizen, his opinions are to be knocked down, and his character reduced as low as they are capable of sinking it, even by resorting to absolute falsehoods. As an evidence whereof, and of the plan they are pursuing, I send you a letter from Mr. Paine to me, printed in this city, and disseminated with great industry. Others of a similar nature are also in circulation.

“To what lengths the French Directory will ultimately go, it is difficult to say; but, that they have been led to the present point by our own people, I have no doubt. Whether some, who have done this, would choose to accompany them any further or not, I shall not undertake to decide. But I shall be mistaken if the candid part of my countrymen, although they may be under a French influence, do not see and acknowledge that they have imbibed erroneous impressions of the conduct of this government toward France, when the communication which I promised at the opening of the session, and which will be ready in a few days, comes before the public. It will be seen, if I mistake not, also, that country has not such a claim upon our gratitude as has been generally supposed; and that this country has violated no engagement with it, been guilty of no act of injustice toward it, nor been wanting in friendship when it could be rendered without departing from the neutral station we had taken and resolved to maintain.”

FOOTNOTES:

[107] “Although I never wrote, nor even saw one of these letters until they issued from New York in print,” wrote Washington to a friend, in January, 1797, “yet the author of them must have been tolerably well acquainted in, or with some person of my family, to have given the names and some circumstances, which are grouped in the mass of erroneous details. But, of all the mistakes which have been committed in this business, none is more palpable, or susceptible of detection, than the manner in which it is said they were obtained, by the capture of my mulatto, Billy, with a portmanteau. All the army under my immediate command could contradict this, and I believe most of them know, that no attendant of mine, nor a particle of my baggage, ever fell into the hands of the enemy during the whole course of the war.”

[108] The title was “Epistles, Domestic, Confidential, and Official, from General Washington; written about the commencement of the American Contest, when he entered on the Command of the Army of the United States. New York, printed by G. Robinson and J. Bull. London, reprinted by F. H. Rivington, No. 62 St. Paul's Churchyard, 1796.” In order to give the affair the appearance of genuineness, and to make a volume of respectable size, several important public despatches, which actually passed between Washington and the British commanders; and also, a selection from several of his addresses, orders, and instructions, were added.

[109] A selection from Washington's replies to these addresses may be found in the twelfth volume of Sparks' “Life and Writings of Washington.”

[110] For a notice of a general plan of a military academy at West Point, prepared by Washington, see Sparks's “Life and Writings of Washington,” viii., 417.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

TOP

friendly overtures to france—pickering's historical and explanatory letter to pinckney—washington's suggestions—french outrages upon american commerce—results of the presidential election—john adams the nation's choice—his forebodings respecting his household—washington's sale of superfluities—mrs. washington's last drawing-room—birthday festivities—washington's emotions—letters to his friends on his retirement—farewell dinner—his declarations respecting the spurious letters—inauguration of adams—washington's parting words—adams's inaugural address—a tinge of jealousy—elegant entertainment given to washington—violent attacks upon him by the “aurora”—the editor beaten and humbled.

1797

Sincerely desirous of maintaining a good understanding with the French, the president, early in January, requested Mr. Pickering, the secretary of state, to address a letter to Mr. Pinckney, the United States minister in France, stating in full the causes of difficulty between the two governments, examining and reviewing the same, and submitting, with his letter, a mass of relative documents, by which the whole matter might be fully understood. Pickering's letter and the documents were laid before Congress on the nineteenth of January, accompanied by a message from the President, in which he said that the immediate object of Mr. Pinckney's mission to France was, “to make to that government such explanations of the principles and conduct of our own, as by manifesting our good faith, might remove all jealousy and discontent, and maintain that harmony and good understanding with the French republic which it had been his constant solicitude to preserve. A government which required only a knowledge of the truth to justify its measures, could but be anxious to have this fully and frankly displayed.”

Previous to the completion of the letter to Pinckney, Washington wrote to Pickering, suggesting that some such summing up as the following might be proper:—

“That the conduct of the United States toward France has been, as will appear from a foregoing statement, regulated by the strictest principles of neutrality.

“That there has been no attempt in the government to violate our treaty with that country, to weaken our engagements therewith, or to withhold any friendship we could render, consistent with the neutrality we had adopted.

“That peace has been our primary object; but, so far has it been from inducing us to acquiesce silently in the capturing of our vessels, impressing our seamen, or in the misconduct of the naval or other officers of the British government, that no instance can be produced of authenticated facts having passed unnoticed, and, where occasion required it, without strong remonstrances.

“That this government, seeing no propriety in the measure, nor conceiving itself to be under any obligation to communicate to the ministers of the French republic all the unpleasant details of what had passed between it and the British minister here, or with the minister of foreign affairs at the court of London on these accounts, conscious of its fair dealing toward all the belligerent powers, and wrapped up in its own integrity, little expected, under the circumstances which have been enumerated, the upbraidings it has met with; notwithstanding, it now is, as it always has been, the earnest wish of the government to be on the best and most friendly footing with the republic of France; and we have no doubt, after giving this candid exposition of facts, that the Directory will revoke the orders under which our trade is suffering, and will pay the damages it has sustained thereby.”

This allusion to depredations upon American commerce by French cruisers, hinted at a state of things which the United States government could not long endure in silence. According to a report made by the secretary of state toward the close of the session, in which he made a full exhibit of the wrongs inflicted by the French on American commerce, it appears that enormous depredations had been committed in the West Indies. All vessels having contraband articles on board, no matter whither bound, were decreed to be good prizes; and the cargoes of neutral vessels bound to or from British ports, or even to Dutch or French settlements in the possession of the British, or cleared out for the West Indies generally, were seized and confiscated. The crews of American vessels captured were generally treated with indignity, and frequently with cruelty. “Bitter complaints,” says Hildreth, “were made of Commodore Barney, then in the West Indies with his two frigates. He was accused of treating with contemptuous indifference and neglect his fellow-citizens brought in as prisoners by the French privateers, and even of having shown his contempt for his country by hoisting the American ensign union down. Yet, when he arrived in the Chesapeake for the purpose of learning and carrying to France the result of the presidential election, though he boasted of having in his pocket the orders of the French Directory to capture all American vessels, and declared that if Jefferson was not chosen president war would be declared by France within three months, he was not the less, on that account, honored and feasted by infatuated politicians who read the Aurora, and believed Washington to be a traitor!”[111]

The votes of the electoral college for president of the United States were opened and counted in the senate on the eighth of February. The result showed a very close balance of political parties. The whole number of votes was one hundred and thirty-eight, making seventy necessary to a choice. Of these, John Adams, the incumbent vice-president, received seventy-one, and Thomas Jefferson sixty-nine votes. Thomas Pinckney, late minister to Great Britain, received fifty-nine votes, Aaron Burr thirty, Samuel Adams fifteen, Oliver Ellsworth eleven, George Clinton seven, John Jay five, James Iredell three, George Washington two, John King two, Samuel Johnson two, and Charles C. Pinckney, then in France, one. At that time the person who received the highest number of the electoral votes was declared to be president, and the person who had the next highest number was declared to be vice-president.

After reading the result, Mr. Adams sat down for a moment, and then rising, said:—

“John Adams is elected president of the United States for four years, to commence with the fourth day of March next; and Thomas Jefferson is elected vice-president of the United States for four years, to commence with the fourth day of March next. And may the Sovereign of the Universe, the Ordainer of civil government on earth, for the preservation of liberty, justice, and peace, among men, enable both to discharge the duties of these offices conformably to the constitution of the United States, with conscientious diligence, punctuality, and perseverance.”[112]

“The die is cast,” wrote the new president elect to his wife, on the following day, “and you must prepare yourself for honorable trials. I must wait to know whether Congress will do anything or not to furnish my house. If they do not, I will have no house before next fall, and then a very moderate one, with very moderate furniture.” He had written to Mrs. Adams a few days before, saying: “I hope you will not communicate to anybody the hints I give you about our prospects; but they appear every day worse and worse. House-rent at twenty-seven hundred dollars a year, fifteen hundred dollars for a carriage, one thousand for one pair of horses, all the glasses, ornaments, kitchen furniture, the best chairs, settees, plateaus, &c., all to purchase; all the china, delph [Delft] or Wedgewood, glass and crockery, of every sort to purchase.”

Washington now prepared, with feelings of the most exquisite pleasure, to retire from public life. Everything which would be unnecessary at Mount Vernon he offered for sale. “The president,” wrote Mr. Adams to his wife, “has a pair of horses to sell; one nine, the other ten years old, for which he asks a thousand dollars.... He must sell something to enable him to clear out. When a man is about retiring from public life, and sees nothing but a ploughshare between him and the grave, he naturally thinks most upon that. When Charles the Fifth resigned his empire and crown, he went to building his coffin. When I contemplated a retirement, I meditated the purchase of Mr. Vesey's farm; and thought of building a tomb in my own ground, adjoining to the burying-yard. The president is now engaged in his speculations upon a vault which he intends to build for himself, not to sleep but to lie down in.... Our friend says she is afraid President Washington will not live long. I should be afraid, too, if I had not confidence in his farm and his horse. He must be a fool, I think, who dies of chagrin when he has a fine farm and a Narragansett mare that paces and canters. But I don't know but all men are such fools. I think a man had better wear than rust.”

In February, when he could begin to count the days and hours that lay between him and that retirement he so much coveted, Washington wrote to his old and dear friends upon the subject with much feeling; and every day brought him new proofs of the love and veneration in which he was held by the people. His birthday was celebrated in Philadelphia in a manner unequalled before. A grand ball was given at the Amphitheatre, in the evening, at which Washington and his lady were present. Mrs. Washington held a “drawing-room” in the afternoon, at which there was a crowd of people. “It was rendered affecting beyond all expression,” said an eye-witness, “by its being, in some degree, a parting scene. Mrs. Washington was moved even to tears, with the mingled emotions of gratitude for such strong proofs of public regard, and the new prospect of the uninterrupted enjoyment of domestic life: she expressed herself something to this effect. I never saw the president look better, or in finer spirits, but his emotions were too powerful to be concealed. He could sometimes scarcely speak. Three rooms of his house were almost entirely full from twelve to three, and such a crowd at the door it was difficult to get in.

“At the Amphitheatre, at night, it is supposed there were at least twelve hundred persons. The show was a very brilliant one; but such scrambling to go to supper that there was some danger of being squeezed to death. The vice-president handed in Mrs. Washington, and the president immediately followed. The applause with which they were received is indescribable. The same was shown on their return from supper. The music added greatly to the interest of the scene. The president staid until between twelve and one; the vice-president till near two. Both were serenaded with repeated huzzas long after they had been in bed. The latter slept so soundly that he knew nothing of it till next morning, though it is said 'Yankee Doodle' was one of the tunes played.”[113]

The eight years of Washington's administration of public affairs, as chief-magistrate of the republic, were now drawing to a close. They had been years of toil, anxiety, and vexation. They had been stormy years; yet, like a rock in the ocean, or the mountain rising from the plain, he had stood unshaken by the surges or the winds. With that serenity of mind which arises from the consolations of a conscience void of offence toward God and man, he took a retrospective view; and with the eagerness of a prisoner about to be released from his cell, to breathe the free air of heaven and repose in peace in the bosom of his home, he approached the hour when he should bid adieu to the incessant labor and turmoil of political life. To his long-tried and dearly-loved friend, General Knox, he wrote as follows two days before his retirement:—

“To the wearied traveller who sees a resting-place, and is bending his body to lean thereon, I now compare myself; but to be suffered to do this in peace is too much to be endured by some. To misrepresent my motives, to reprobate my politics, and to weaken the confidence which has been reposed in my administration, are objects which can not be relinquished by those who will be satisfied with nothing short of a change in our political system. The consolation, however, which results from conscious rectitude, and the approving voice of my country, unequivocally expressed by its representatives, deprive their sting of its poison, and place in the same point of view the weakness and malignity of their efforts....

“The remainder of my life, which in the course of nature can not be long, will be occupied in rural amusements; and, though I shall seclude myself as much as possible from the noisy and bustling crowd, none would, more than myself, be regaled by the company of those I esteem at Mount Vernon; more than twenty miles from which, after I arrive there, it is not likely that I ever shall be.

“As early in next week as I can make arrangements for it, I shall commence my journey for Mount Vernon. To-morrow, at dinner, I shall, as a servant of the public, take my leave of the president elect, of the foreign embassadors, the heads of departments, &c., and the day following, with pleasure, I shall witness the inauguration of my successor to the chair of government.”

There was a large company of ladies and gentlemen at the dinner, on the third of March, when Washington, in a somewhat informal manner, bade them all farewell. “During the dinner,” wrote Bishop White, who was one of the guests, “much hilarity prevailed; but, on the removal of the cloth, it was put an end to by the president—certainly without design. Having filled his glass, he addressed the company, with a smile on his countenance, saying, 'Ladies and gentlemen, this is the last time I shall drink your health as a public man. I do it with sincerity, and wishing you all possible happiness.' There was an end to all hilarity, and the cheeks of Mrs. Liston, wife of the British minister, were wet with tears.”

On that morning Washington performed an act of justice to himself, which he had refrained from doing while in office. It was in the form of a letter to Mr. Pickering, the secretary of state, giving his own statement concerning the spurious letters which we have already noticed—their dates, addresses, and signatures, and all the facts in the case, the chief of which we have already noted. “These well-known facts,” he said, “made it unnecessary, during the war, to call the public attention to the forgery by any express declaration of mine; and a firm reliance on my fellow-citizens, and the abundant proofs which they gave of their confidence in me, rendered it alike unnecessary to take any formal notice of the revival of the imposition during my civil administration. But as I can not know how soon a more serious event may succeed to that which will this day take place, I have thought it a duty that I owed to myself, to my country, and to truth, now to detail the circumstances above recited; and to add my solemn declaration that the letters herein described[114] are a base forgery, and that I never saw or heard of them until they appeared in print.

“The present letter I commit to your care, and desire that it may be deposited in the office of the department of state, as a testimony of the truth to the present generation and to posterity.”

On the fourth of March, John Adams, Washington's successor, was inaugurated the second president of the United States. The event took place in the hall of the representatives, which was densely crowded with spectators. Mr. Jefferson, the new vice-president, had just taken his seat as president of the senate. That body had been convened by Washington for the occasion; and now, with their presiding officer, they went into the representatives' hall, where a large audience of ladies and gentlemen were collected to witness the inaugural ceremonies. In front of the speaker's chair sat chief-justice Ellsworth, who was to administer the oath, with three other judges of the supreme court of the United States (Cushing, Wilson, and Iredell). The new vice-president and secretary of the senate took their seats on the right; and on the left sat the speaker and clerk of the late house of representatives. At a signal the doors were thrown open, and a crowd rushed in and filled the galleries. Very soon loud cheering was heard in the streets, and a few moments afterward Washington entered, followed by the president elect. The whole audience arose and greeted them with enthusiastic cheers.

John Adams

When the two dignitaries were seated perfect silence prevailed. Washington then arose, and with the most commanding dignity and self-control, proceeded to read, in a firm, clear voice, a brief valedictory. An eye-witness yet (1860) living,[115] has made the following interesting record of this portion of the scene:—

“When General Washington delivered his farewell address, in the room at the southeast corner of Chestnut and Sixth streets, I sat immediately in front of him. It was in the room Congress occupied. The table of the speaker was between the two windows on Sixth street. The daughter of Doctor C——,[116] of Alexandria, the physician and intimate friend of Washington, Mrs. H——,[117] whose husband was the auditor, was a very dear friend of mine. Her brother Washington was one of the secretaries of General Washington. Young Dandridge, a nephew of Mrs. Washington, was the other. I was included in Mrs. H—— 's party to witness the august, the solemn scene. Mr. H—— declined going with Mrs. H——, as she had determined to go early, so as to secure the front bench. It was fortunate for Miss C—— [118] (afterward Mrs. L——)[119], that she could not trust herself to be so near her honored grandfather. My dear father stood very near her. She was terribly agitated. There was a narrow passage from the door of entrance to the room, which was on the east, dividing the rows of benches. General Washington stopped at the end to let Mr. Adams pass to the chair. The latter always wore a full suit of bright drab, with lash or loose cuffs to his coat. He always wore wrist ruffles. He had not changed his fashions. He was a short man, with a good head. With his family he attended our church twice a day. General Washington's dress was a full suit of black. His military hat had the black cockade. There stood the 'Father of his Country,' acknowledged by nations—the first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen. No marshals with gold-colored scarfs attended him—there was no cheering—no noise; the most profound silence greeted him, as if the great assembly desired to hear him breathe, and catch his breath in homage of their hearts. Mr. Adams covered his face with both his hands; the sleeves of his coat, and his hands, were covered with tears. Every now and then there was a suppressed sob, I can not describe Washington's appearance as I felt it—perfectly composed and self-possessed till the close of his address: then, when strong nervous sobs broke loose, when tears covered the faces, then the great man was shaken. I never took my eyes from his face. Large drops came from his eyes. He looked to the youthful children who were parting with their father, their friend, as if his heart was with them, and would be to the end.”

When Washington concluded his brief valedictory, Mr. Adams arose, took the oath of office, and then delivered his inaugural address, which he had prepared with much care—an address that had the rare good fortune of pleasing all parties. He sketched, with a few brief touches of a master's pencil, an outline history of the federal constitution, defined his own position in regard to it from the beginning, and then thus feelingly alluded to the retiring president:—

“Such is the amiable and interesting system of government (and such are some of the abuses to which it may be exposed), which the people of America have exhibited to the admiration and anxiety of the wise and virtuous of all nations, for eight years, under the administration of a citizen, who, by a long course of great actions, regulated by prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude, conducted a people inspired with the same virtues, and animated with the same ardent patriotism and love of liberty, to independence and peace, to increasing wealth and unexampled prosperity, has merited the gratitude of his fellow-citizens, commanded the highest praises of foreign nations, and secured immortal glory with posterity.

“In that retirement which is his voluntary choice, may he long live to enjoy the delicious recollection of his services, the gratitude of mankind, the happy fruits of them to himself and the world, which are daily increasing; and that splendid prospect of the future fortunes of his country which is opening from year to year. May his name be still a rampart, and the knowledge that he lives a bulwark against all open or secret enemies of his country's peace!”

The hearts of the audience had already been made tender by the farewell words of Washington; and this allusion to him, in the inaugural address of his successor, made tears flow copiously—“Scarcely a dry eye but Washington's, whose countenance was as serene and unclouded as the day,” wrote Adams to his wife.

With a little tinge of evident jealousy, Adams again wrote to the same correspondent, a few days afterward, saying: “It is the general report that there was more weeping than there has ever been at the representation of any tragedy. But whether it was from grief or joy, whether from the loss of their beloved president, or from the accession of an unbeloved one, or from the pleasure of exchanging presidents without tumult, or from the novelty of the thing, or from the sublimity of it arising from the multitude present, or whatever other cause, I know not. One thing I know, I am a being of too much sensibility to act any part well in such an exhibition. Perhaps there is little danger of my having such another scene to feel or behold.

“The stillness and silence astonishes me. Everybody talks of the tears, the full eyes, the streaming eyes, the trickling eyes, &c., but all is enigma beyond. No one descends to particulars to say why or wherefore; I am, therefore, left to suppose that it is all grief for the loss of their beloved.”

When Washington left the hall and entered his carriage, the great audience followed, and were joined by an immense crowd in the streets, who shouted long and loud as the retiring president and his suite moved toward his dwelling. The new president and all others were forgotten in that moment of veneration for the beloved friend, upon whose face few in that vast assemblage would ever look again. “I followed him in the crowd to his own door,” said the late President Duer, of Columbia college, “where, as he turned to address the multitude, his countenance assumed a serious and almost melancholy expression, his voice failed him, his eyes were suffused with tears, and only by his gestures could he indicate his thanks, and convey his farewell blessing to the people.”

The merchants of Philadelphia, to testify their love for Washington, gave to him a splendid banquet and other entertainments that evening, in the Amphitheatre, which had been decorated with appropriate paintings by Charles Willson Peale, who, twenty-five years before, had painted, at Mount Vernon, the first portrait ever drawn of Washington, in the costume of a Virginia colonel. One of the newspapers of the day thus describes a compliment that was paid to the first president on that occasion, which had been suggested and executed by Mr. Peale:—

“Upon entering the area the general was conducted to his seat. On a signal given the band played 'Washington's March,' and a scene, which represented simple objects in the rear of the principal seat, was drawn up and discovered emblematical paintings. The principal was a female figure as 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 cornucopia; 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.”

The heads of departments, foreign ministers, and distinguished strangers in Philadelphia, were present on that gala occasion; and with that display of taste, fashion, gayety, and refinement, ended the public life of Washington.

These honors paid to the retiring chief-magistrate with the most heartfelt sincerity, excited the jealousy, enmity, and malignity of his political enemies in a most remarkable degree. Nothing was too base for them to employ in attempts to injure his character, and lower him in the esteem of his countrymen. A pamphlet written by “Jasper Dwight, of Vermont,” and published in December, 1796, which contained most severe strictures upon the Farewell Address, was circulated with increased zeal.[120]

The Aurora overflowed with gall. Its columns were filled with the most virulent attacks upon him. His denunciation of the spurious letters made the calumniators writhe, and, with the fiendish malice of assassins, they thrust his character with weapons of foulest form. Three days after his retirement one of the most violent of these attacks appeared in the Aurora, attributed to Doctor Lieb, a republican member of the Pennsylvania assembly. It was dated on the day of Adams's inauguration. He said:—

“'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation,' was the pious ejaculation of a man who beheld a flood of happiness rushing upon mankind. If ever there was a time that would license the reiteration of the exclamation, that time is now arrived; for the man, who is the source of all the misfortunes of our country, is this day reduced to a level with his fellow-citizens, and is no longer possessed of power to multiply evils upon the United States. If ever there was a period for rejoicing, this is the moment; every heart in unison with the freedom and happiness of the people, ought to beat high with exultation that the name of Washington, from this day, ceases to give a currency to political iniquity, and to legalize corruption. A new era is now opening upon us, an era which promises much to the people; for public measures must now stand upon their own merits, and nefarious projects can no longer be supported by a name. When a retrospect is taken of the Washingtonian administration for eight years, it is a subject of the greatest astonishment that a single individual should have cankered the principles of republicanism in an enlightened people, just emerged from the gulf of despotism, and should have carried his designs against the public liberty so far, as to have put in jeopardy its very existence. Such, however, are the facts, and, with these staring us in the face, this day ought to be a jubilee in the United States.”

These and similar articles excited the public indignation to the highest endurable pitch; and Bache, the publisher of the Aurora, was severely beaten, when, a few days afterward, he, with some friends, visited the frigate United States, then on the stocks at the Philadelphia navy-yard. A son of the contractor gave the flagellation. The public clamor became so great, that Bache, in mortal fear of further personal violence, thought it prudent to state, in his paper, that Doctor Lieb's article was not written by the editor, but came from a correspondent.

FOOTNOTES:

[111] History of the United States, Second Series, i., 703.

[112] Journals of Congress, February 8, 1797.

[113] Letter of Honorable James Iredell to his wife, February 24, 1797.

[114] The following is Washington's description of the letters:—

“New York, June 12th, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington, at Mount Vernon, Fairfax county, Virginia.—G. W.”

“To John Parke Custis, Esq., at the Hon. Benedict Calvert's, Esq., Mount Airy, Maryland, June 18th, 1776.—George Washington.”

“New York, July 8th, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington, at Mt. Vernon, Fairfax county, Virginia.—G. W.”

“New York, July 15, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington.—G. W.”

“New York, July 16, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington.—G. W.”

“New York, July 22d, 1776. To Mr. Lund Washington—G. W.”

“June 24th, 1776. To Mrs. Washington.—G. W.”

[115] Mrs. Susan R. Echard, daughter of Colonel Read, now (1860) living in Philadelphia, at the age of eighty-four years. The venerable Rembrandt Peale, of the same city, who, two years before, painted Washington's portrait from life, and now in his eighty-third year, was also present in the gallery on that occasion, and his recollection agrees with that of Mrs. Echard.

[116] Craik.

[117] Harrison.

[118] Custis.

[119] Lewis.

[120] It was in the form of a “Letter to George Washington, President of the United States.” Dwight was a violent republican, and an uncompromising advocate for the immediate and total abolition of slavery in the United States. Because Washington was a slaveholder, he considered him extremely vulnerable on that point, and in his “Letter" he twice alludes to the fact.

“Had the French Revolution,” he said, “commenced ten years later, or you retired to the shades of Mount Vernon four years ago, the friends of public virtue would still proudly boast of one great man free from the breath of public dispraise, and your fondly partial country, forbearing to inquire whether or not you were chargeable with mental aberrations, would vaunt in you this possession of the phœnix.” After making strictures on the events of the past four years, he said: “Would to God! you had retired to a private station four years ago, while your public conduct threw a veil of sanctity round you, which you have yourself rashly broken down. Your fame would have been safe, your country without reproach, and I should not have the mortifying task of pointing out the blind temerity with which you come forward to defend the religion of Christ, who exist in the violation of its most sacred obligations, of the dearest ties of humanity, and in defiance of the sovereign calls of morality and liberty—by dealing in HUMAN SLAVES.” Again, after asserting that “posterity will in vain search for the monuments of wisdom" in his administration, he says they will, on inquiry, find that had he obtained promotion, as he expected, for the services rendered after Braddock's defeat, his sword would have been drawn against his country; and that they would discover “that the great champion of American freedom, the rival of Timoleon and Cincinnatus, twenty years after the establishment of the republic, was possessed of FIVE HUNDRED of the HUMAN SPECIES IN SLAVERY, enjoying the fruits of their labor without remuneration, or even the consolations of religious instruction—that he retained the barbarous usages of the feudal system, and kept men in livery—and that he still affected to be the friend of the Christian religion, of civil liberty, and moral equality—and to be, withal, a disinterested, virtuous, liberal, and unassuming man.”

CHAPTER XXXVII.

TOP

washington leaves philadelphia for mount vernon—receives honors by the way—his arrival home—his enjoyment of private life—letters to his friends—his own picture of his daily life—entertainment of strangers burdensome—invites his nephew to mount vernon—nelly custis and her suitors—washington's letter to her—lawrence lewis preferred—washington's dream of permanent repose disturbed by a gathering storm—early associations recalled—again summoned into public life.

Washington left Philadelphia for Mount Vernon on the ninth of March, a private citizen and a happy man. He was accompanied by Mrs. Washington and her grand-daughter, Eleanor Parke Custis; and by George Washington Lafayette and his preceptor, M. Frestel, whose arrival and residence in the United States we have already noticed. George Washington Parke Custis, the brother of Eleanor, or “Nelly,” as she was familiarly called, was then in college at Princeton, where he had been for several months. The letters which have been preserved by the Custis family, of the correspondence between Washington and that adopted son, during the college life of the latter, are very interesting, and exhibit the Father of his Country in a light in which he is not viewed by history in her delineation of him, namely, as the father of a talented but wayward boy.

Ever desirous of giving words of encouragement and the meed of praise to the deserving, Washington handed to young Bartholomew Dandridge, his private secretary, on the morning of his departure for Mount Vernon, the following letter:—

“Your conduct, during a six years' residence in my family, having been such as to meet my full approbation, and believing that a declaration to this effect would be satisfactory to yourself, and justice requiring it from me, I make it with pleasure, and in full confidence that those principles of honor, integrity, and benevolence, which I have reason to believe have hitherto guided your steps, will still continue to mark your conduct. I have only to add a wish, that you may lose no opportunity of making such advances in useful acquirements as may benefit yourself, your friends, and mankind; and I am led to anticipate an accomplishment of this wish, when I consider the manner in which you have hitherto improved such occasions as offered themselves to you.

“The career of life on which you are now entering, will present new scenes and frequent opportunities for the improvement of a mind desirous of obtaining useful knowledge; but I am sure you will never forget that, without virtue and without integrity, the finest talents and the most brilliant accomplishments can never gain the respect, or conciliate the esteem, of the truly valuable part of mankind.”

On his journey to the Potomac, the retired president received every mark of respect, love, and veneration, from the people. “Last evening,” said a Baltimore paper of the thirteenth of March, “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 of Captain Hollingsworth's troop, who escorted him 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.”[121]

“The attentions we met with on our journey,” wrote Washington to Mr. M'Henry, the secretary of war, “were very flattering, and by some, whose minds are differently formed from mine, would have been highly relished; but I avoided, in every instance, when I had any previous knowledge of the intention, and could by earnest entreaties prevail, all parade and escorts.” He seldom succeeded, for intelligence of his approach went before him, and citizens and soldiers hastened to do homage to the great Patriot and Chief.

Washington arrived at Mount Vernon on the evening of the fourteenth of March. Never did the threshold of his mansion receive a happier man. The servants flocked around him like children come to greet a returning father, and there was joy in the household and all over the estate of Mount Vernon. The master fairly revelled in the luxury of private life and the repose of domestic enjoyment. Yet he did not sit down, an idle man and indifferent spectator of passing events. “Let me pray you to have the goodness,” he wrote to Mr. M'Henry, “to communicate to me occasionally such matters as are interesting, and not contrary to the rules of your official duty to disclose. We get so many details in the gazettes, and of such different complexions, that it is impossible to know what credence to give to any of them.”

Now, escaped from the turmoils of politics, Washington resolved to cast the burden of speculations concerning them from his mind. During almost his entire administration, the politics of France had been a constant source of anxiety to him, and had given him more real vexation, directly and indirectly, than all other matters of his public life combined. “The conduct of the French government,” he now wrote, “is so much beyond calculation, and so unaccountable upon any principle of justice, or even of that sort of policy which is familiar to plain understandings, that I shall not now puzzle my brains in attempting to develop the motives of it.”

To Oliver Wolcott he wrote in May: “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 [the calling of an extraordinary session of Congress], 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.”

Washington was not unsocial, yet he loved to be away from the great gathering-places of men and the tumults of public life. He loved his friends warmly; and those for whom he had a thorough esteem—a friendship based upon the perception of genuine qualities of head and heart that made them trustworthy—were always most welcome to his retreat on the banks of the Potomac. With such friends he kept up a cordial correspondence; and in many of his letters, immediately after his retirement, he spoke of his domestic employments and pleasures. “Retired from noise myself,” he wrote to General Heath, “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 peregrinations through life.”

To Secretary M'Henry he wrote, in joyous mood, at the close of May: “I am indebted to you for several unacknowledged letters; but never mind that: go on as if you had answers. You are at the source of information, and can find many things to relate; while I have nothing to say that would either inform or amuse a secretary of war in Philadelphia.

“I might tell that I begin my diurnal course with the sun; that, if my hirelings are not in their places at that time, I send them messages of sorrow for their indisposition; that, having put these wheels in motion, I examine the state of things further; that, the more they are probed, the deeper I find the wounds which my buildings have sustained by an absence and neglect of eight years; that, by the time I have accomplished these matters, breakfast (a little after seven o'clock, about the time I suppose you are taking leave of Mrs. M'Henry) is ready; that, this being over, I mount my horse and ride round my farms, which employ 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 sitting at table, a walk, and tea, bring me within the dawn of candlelight; 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 will do as well. The next night comes, and with it the same causes for postponement, and so on.

“This will account for your letters 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.”

Washington soon became wearied with the continual visits of strangers, to which he alluded in his letter to Mr. M'Henry, and he resolved to adopt some plan of relief that should be consistent with the most genuine hospitality. He had an accomplished and favorite nephew, Lawrence Lewis, son of his sister Elizabeth. He invited him to make Mount Vernon his home, and to assume the duties of entertainer of company when the master should desire repose. “As both your aunt and I,” he said, in his letter of invitation, “are in the decline of life, and regular in our habits, especially in our hours of rising and going to bed, I require some person (fit and proper) to ease me of the trouble of entertaining company, particularly of nights, as it is my inclination to retire (and, unless prevented by very particular company, I always do retire), either to bed or to my study, soon after candlelight. In taking those duties (which hospitality obliges me to bestow on company) off my hands, it would render me a very acceptable service.”[122]

Young Lewis accepted his uncle's invitation with pleasure, for he loved the society of such as he knew he should meet at Mount Vernon. There was also a charmer there for young men, in the person of Nelly Custis, a gay, beautiful, and accomplished girl of eighteen years, who was the life of a social party, and a beam of sunshine in the family circle. As his adopted daughter, Washington had watched over her with parental solicitude. Tradition says that he frequently inculcated the most valuable precepts when talking seriously with her; and in his most playful mood would give her words of wisdom that took root in her mind and heart. This fact is so well exhibited in the following letter of his, written to Nelly, when she was about sixteen years of age, that we give it entire. It was on the occasion of her first attendance at a ball, an account of which she had given him in a letter:—

“Phila., January 16, 1795.

“Your letter, the receipt of which I am now acknowledging, is written correctly and in fair characters, which is an evidence that you command, when you please, a fair hand. Possessed of these advantages, it will be your own fault if you do not avail yourself of them; and, attention being paid to the choice of your subjects, you can have nothing to fear from the malignancy of criticism, as your ideas are lively, and your descriptions agreeable. Let me touch a little now on your Georgetown ball; and happy, thrice happy, for the fair who were assembled on the occasion, that there was a man to spare; for had there been seventy-nine ladies and only seventy-eight gentlemen, there might, in the course of the evening, have been some disorder among the caps, notwithstanding the apathy which one of the company entertains for the 'youth' of the present day, and her determination 'never to give herself a moment's uneasiness on account of any of them.' A hint here: men and women feel the same inclinations to each other now that they always have done, and which they will continue to do until there is a new order of things; and you, as others have done, may find, perhaps, that the passions of your sex are easier raised than allayed. Do not, therefore, boast too soon or too strongly of your insensibility to, or resistance of, its powers. In the composition of the human frame there is a good deal of inflammable matter, however dormant it may lie for a time, and like an intimate acquaintance of yours, when the torch is put to it, that which is within you may burst into a blaze; for which reason, and especially, too, as I have entered upon the chapter of advices, I will read you a lecture drawn from this text.

“Love is said to be an involuntary passion, and it is therefore contended that it can not be resisted. This is true in part only, for, like all things else, when nourished and supplied plentifully with aliment, it is rapid in its progress; but let these be withdrawn, and it may be stifled in its birth, or much stinted in its growth. For example, a woman (the same may be said of the other sex) all beautiful and accomplished, will, while her hand and heart are undisposed of, turn the heads and set the circle in which she moves on fire. Let her marry, and what is the consequence? The madness ceases, and all is quiet again. Why? Not because there is any diminution in the charms of the lady, but because there is an end of hope. Hence it follows that love may and therefore ought to be under the guidance of reason; for, although we can not avoid first impressions, we may assuredly place them under guard: and my motives for treating on this subject are to show you, while you remain Eleanor Parke Custis, spinster, and retain the resolution to love with moderation, the propriety of adhering to the latter resolution, at least until you have secured your game, and the way by which it may be accomplished.

“When the fire is beginning to kindle, and your heart growing warm, propound these questions to it: 'Who is this invader? Have I a competent knowledge of him? Is he a man of good character? a man of sense?' For, be assured, a sensible woman can never be happy with a fool. 'What has been his walk of life? Is he a gambler, a spendthrift, or drunkard? Is his fortune sufficient to maintain me in the manner I have been accustomed to live, and my sisters do live, and is he one to whom my friends can have no reasonable objection?' If these interrogatories can be satisfactorily answered, there will remain but one more to be asked; that, however, is an important one, 'Have I sufficient ground to conclude that his affections are engaged by me?' Without this, the heart of sensibility will struggle against a passion that is not reciprocated—delicacy, custom, or call it by what epithet you will, having precluded all advances on your part. The declaration, without the most indirect invitation of yours, must proceed from the man, to render it permanent and valuable; and nothing short of good sense and an easy, unaffected conduct, can draw the line between prudery and coquetry. It would be no great departure from truth to say that it rarely happens otherwise than that a thorough-paced coquette dies in celibacy, as a punishment for her attempts to mislead others, by encouraging looks, words, or actions, given for no other purpose than to draw men on to make overtures, that they may be rejected.

“This day, according to our information, gives a husband to your elder sister, and consummates, it is to be presumed, her fondest desires. The dawn with us is bright, and propitious, I hope, of her future happiness, for a full measure of which she and Mr. Law have my earnest wishes. Compliments and congratulations on this occasion, and best regards are presented to your mamma, Doctor Stuart, and family; and every blessing—among which a good husband, when you want and deserve one—is bestowed on you by yours, affectionately.”[123]

Young Lewis found a rival in the person of a son of the eminent Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, whose suit was decidedly encouraged by Mrs. Washington. This young man had just returned from Europe, where he had been educated; and he displayed in his deportment and conversation all the social graces derived from foreign travel. Nelly was also pleased with the young man; and her brother, then at school in Annapolis, could not conceal his satisfaction. So he ventured to say, in a letter to Washington: “I find that young Mr. C—— has been at Mount Vernon, and, report says, to address my sister. It may be well to subjoin an opinion, which I believe is general in this place, viz., that he is a young man of the strictest probity and morals, discreet without closeness, temperate without excess, and modest without vanity; possessed of those amiable qualities and friendship which are so commendable, and with few of the vices of the age. In short, I think it a most desirable match, and wish that it may take place with all my heart.”

1798

Washington relished neither the interference of the suitor with his nephew's “current of true love,” nor the volunteer opinion of Nelly's brother; and he abruptly closed the correspondence on the subject with young Custis, by saying: “Young Mr. C—— came here about a fortnight ago, to dinner, and left us next morning after breakfast. If his object was such as you say has been reported, it was not declared here; and therefore the less is said upon the subject, particularly by your sister's friends, the more prudent it will be until the subject develops itself more.”

Other suitors appeared at that time, and the assaults made upon the young lady's heart seem to have given Washington and his wife much anxiety. “I was young and romantic then,” she said to a lady, from whose lips Mr. Irving has quoted[124]—“I was young and romantic then, and fond of wandering alone by moonlight in the woods of Mount Vernon. Grandmamma thought it wrong and unsafe, and scolded and coaxed me into a promise that I would not wander in the woods again unaccompanied. But I was missing one evening, and was brought home from the interdicted woods to the drawing-room, where the general was walking up and down with his hands behind him, as was his wont. Grandmamma, seated in her great arm-chair, opened a severe reproof.”

“Poor Miss Nelly,” says Mr. Irving, “was reminded of her promise, and taxed with her delinquency. She knew that she had done wrong, admitted her fault, and essayed no excuse; but, when there was a slight pause, moved to retire from the room. She was just shutting the door, when she overheard the general attempting, in a low voice, to intercede in her behalf. 'My dear,' observed he, 'I would say no more: perhaps she was not alone.'

“His intercession stopped Miss Nelly in her retreat. She reopened the door, and advanced up to the general with a firm step. 'Sir,' said she, 'you brought me up to speak the truth; and when I told grandmamma I was alone, I hope you believed I was alone.'

“The general made one of his most magnanimous bows. 'My child,' replied he, 'I beg your pardon.'”

As we shall observe presently, Lawrence Lewis triumphed in his suit over all competitors, and the beautiful Nelly Custis became his bride.

Without the least suspicion that his sweet dream of repose in the bosom of his family, amid the quiet scenes of rural life, would ever be disturbed while he lived, Washington now applied himself to the repairs of his buildings, and the general improvement of his estate. “At the age of sixty-five,” he wrote to the earl of Radnor, “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.”

To the Reverend William Gordon he wrote: “Rural employments, while I am spared—which, in the natural course of things, can not be long—will now take the place of toil, responsibility, and the solicitude attending the walks of public life; and with a desire for the peace, happiness, and prosperity of a country, in whose service the prime of my life has been spent, and with best wishes for the tranquillity of all nations and all men, the scene to me will close—grateful to that Providence which has directed my steps, and shielded me in the various changes and chances through which I have passed from my youth to the present moment.”

And now, too, the associations of his earlier life, when he was a farmer at Mount Vernon, brought pleasing pictures of the past to his memory, and he seemed to yearn for a renewal of those social pleasures which had been the delight of his young manhood. To Mrs. Fairfax, in England, who had resided at ruined Belvoir, and had been a beloved member of the society of that neighborhood, he wrote, in May, 1798:—

“Five-and-twenty years have nearly passed away since I have considered myself as permanently residing at this place, or have been in a situation to indulge myself in a familiar intercourse with my friends by letter or otherwise. During this period, so many important events have occurred, and such changes in men and things have taken place, as the compass of a letter would give you but an inadequate idea of; none of which events, however, nor all of them together, have been able to eradicate from my mind the recollection of those happy moments, the happiest of my life, which I have enjoyed in your company.

“Worn out in a manner by the toils of my past labor, I am again seated under my vine and fig-tree, and I wish I could add that there are none to make us afraid; but those whom we have been accustomed to call our friends and allies are endeavoring, if not to make us afraid, yet to despoil us of our property, and are provoking us to acts of self-defence which may lead to war. What will be the result of such measures, time, that faithful expositor of all things, must disclose. My wish is to spend the remainder of my days, which can not be many, in rural amusements, free from the cares from which public responsibility is never exempt.

“Before the war, and even while it existed, although I was eight years from home at one stretch, except the en-passant visits made to it on my marches to and from the siege of Yorktown, I made considerable additions to my dwellinghouse, and alterations in my offices and gardens; but the dilapidation occasioned by time, and those neglects which are coextensive with the absence of proprietors, have occupied as much of my time within the last twelve months, in repairing them, as at any former period in the same space; and it is a matter of sore regret, when I cast my eyes toward Belvoir, which I often do, to reflect that the former inhabitants of it, with whom we lived in such harmony and friendship, no longer reside there, and that the ruins can only be viewed as the memento of former pleasures.”

But, at the very time when he wrote this letter, the clouds of difficulty between the United States and France were thickening; a storm of war was evidently brewing, and the mutterings of the thunder were becoming more and more audible. In that hour of gloom, when the billows were beating heavily upon the ship of state, and the hurricane began to howl, his countrymen, remembering the faith, and fortitude, and courage, and skill, of their venerated pilot for eight years of commotion, turned anxious eyes and more anxious hearts toward Mount Vernon, wishing to call him from his retirement to face once more the enemies of their country; yet tenderly hesitating, because they loved him too well to disturb unnecessarily the needed repose he was then enjoying. A crisis came; dangers thickened on every side, and the united voices of his countrymen again called Washington into public life.

FOOTNOTES:

[121] Sparks's Life and Writings of Washington, xi. 197, note.

[122] MS. letter quoted by Irving, v. 276.

[123] Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington, by George Washington Parke Custis, page 41. Washington wrote many other letters to his sprightly foster-child, but they have been lost or destroyed. These serve to show how his comprehensive mind had moments of thought and action to bestow on all connected with him, and how deeply his affections were interested in the family of his wife, who were cared for as if they were his own. They were written at a time when the cares of state, as president of the republic, were pressing heavily upon him.

[124] Life of Washington, v. 279.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

TOP

prosperity of the united states—troubles with france continued—indignities offered to mr. pinckney—monroe's leave-taking—insulting speech of the president of the french directory—pinckney leaves paris—special session of congress—president adams's message—his recommendations—washington's solicitude—changes in public sentiment—action of congress—special envoys sent to france—washington's opinions concerning the embassy and the chances of war—langhorne's correspondence—jefferson's position—lafayette's release—rochambeau.

Washington retired from the chair of state at a time when his country was enjoying the highest degree of prosperity. Through the wisdom of Hamilton and the firmness of the president, a sound credit at home had been created, and an immense floating debt funded in a manner perfectly satisfactory to the creditors, and to all except ignorant or unscrupulous partisans. An ample revenue was provided for; all difficulties which a system of internal taxation is liable to encounter at the outset, had been removed; and the authority of and thorough respect for the federal government were firmly established. Means had been provided for the gradual extinguishment of the public debt; a large portion of it had been actually discharged; and a system, which had finally brought about an almost entire extinction of it when the war of 1812 broke out, had been matured. The agricultural and commercial wealth of the nation had increased beyond all former example; and the numerous Indian tribes, warlike and hostile, that inhabited the western frontiers and the immense country beyond, even to the west of the Mississippi, had been taught, by sad experience, the folly of opposing the power of the United States, and were then at peace with them.

The foreign relations of the United States were in a condition more desirable than at any time since the establishment of the government, except in regard to France. The differences with Spain had been adjusted; the free navigation of the Mississippi had been acquired; and the use of New Orleans as a commercial dépôt, for a specific time, had been secured. The causes which, at one time, threatened a war between the United States and Great Britain, had been removed by diplomacy; and the military posts on the frontier, which served as nuclei of Indian hostilities, had passed into the possession of the government of the United States. Treaties not perfectly satisfactory, but nevertheless advantageous by comparison with the past, had been made with Algiers and Tripoli; and as Tunisian corsairs had never depredated upon American commerce, the Mediterranean sea was now opened to the mercantile marine of the United States.

Such, in brief outline, were the condition and position of the United States, when Washington retired from public life; yet over the bright future, discerned by the eye of faith, hung an ominous cloud, growing blacker and blacker every day. France, haughty, imperious, dictatorial, and ungenerous, had severed with ruthless hand the bond of friendship between itself and the United States, and had cut the tether of legal restraint which kept her corsairs from depredating upon American commerce. Her course, unjust and unwise, indicated inevitable war, unless she should draw back, for peace with her could not be maintained with honor upon terms which her insolence dictated. Her government had declared, on the recall of Monroe, that no other minister from the United States should be received until that power should fully redress the grievances of which the republic complained; and Pinckney, whose letter of credence declared that he had been sent “to maintain that good understanding which, from the commencement of the alliance, had subsisted between the two nations, and to efface unfounded impressions, banish suspicions, and restore that cordiality which was at once the evidence and pledge of a friendly union,” was not received.

Pinckney was not only denied a reception, but was ordered to quit the territory of France. He claimed the right to a passport and safe escort, but these were denied, while measures for his expulsion were not put into operation. In that position he remained some time. Meanwhile, Monroe, unmindful of the insult offered to his country in the person of its accredited representative, instead of leaving France indignantly himself, consented to play a part in another scene more unworthy of him than that enacted at his reception. The Directory, evidently for the purpose of treating the United States government with contempt, decreed a formal audience to Monroe, to present his letters of recall and to take his leave. On that occasion, Monroe warmly acknowledged “the important services rendered by France to America;“ congratulated the republic on its victories, and the excellence of its constitution; and expressed his earnest wishes that a close union and perfect harmony might exist between the two governments.

To this the president of the Directory responded in pompous and high-sounding words. “Minister plenipotentiary of the United States,” he said, “by presenting this day to the executive Directory your letter of recall, you offer a very strange spectacle to Europe. Rich in her freedom, surrounded by the train of her victories, strong in the esteem of her allies, France will not stoop to calculate the consequences of the condescension of the American government to the wishes of its ancient tyrants. The French republic expects, however, that the successors of Columbus, Raleigh, and Penn, always proud of their liberty, will never forget that they owe it to France. They will weigh in their wisdom the magnanimous friendship of the French people with the crafty caresses of perfidious men, who meditate to bring them again under their former yoke. Assure the good people of America, Mr. Minister, that, like them, we admire liberty; that they will always possess our esteem, and find in the French people that republican generosity which knows how to grant peace as well as how to cause its sovereignty to be respected. As for you, Mr. Minister Plenipotentiary, you have ever battled for principles; you have known the true interests of your country Depart with our regret. We restore in you a representative to America; we preserve the remembrance of a citizen whose personal qualities did honor to that title.”

Toward the close of January, 1798, Pinckney was notified that, having resided in Paris nearly two months without special permission, he was amenable to law. He immediately applied for and obtained his passports, and on the third of February he departed for Holland, whence he sent despatches to his government, presenting the state of his mission. They were received on the twenty-fifth of March, and produced much excitement. The indignities to which the United States minister had been subjected, and the continued capture of American merchant-vessels by French privateers, some of them commanded by Americans, caused President Adams to issue a proclamation, convening the Congress in special session on the fifteenth of May.

A change in public opinion was now perceptible. The people began to understand the real character and designs of the French, the chief of which was to sow the seeds of bitter discord between the government and the people of the United States—a task in which Genet and Adet zealously labored. “The speech of the president of the Directory,” said Adams, in his opening address to the Congress, “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 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....

“I should have been happy,” he continued, “to throw a veil over the late transactions of the French government, if it had been possible to conceal them; but they have passed on the great theatre of the world, in the face of all Europe and America, and with such circumstances of publicity and solemnity that they can not be disguised, and will not soon be forgotten.”

Mr. Adams then expressed his sincere desire for reconciliation with France, and announced his intention to institute a fresh attempt at negotiation for that object; but he recommended the Congress to provide, meanwhile, effectual measures for defence, especially in the increase and strengthening of the navy.

From his retirement, Washington looked out upon the moving panorama of national affairs with great solicitude. He took a lively interest in all that was passing, in which the welfare of his country was involved. “It remains to be seen,” he said in a letter to Thomas Pinckney, lately arrived from Europe, “whether our country will stand upon independent ground, or be directed in its political concerns by any other nation. A little time will show who are its true friends, or, what is synonymous, who are true Americans.... The president's speech will, I conceive, draw forth, mediately or immediately, an expression of the public mind; and, as it is the right of the people that this should be carried into effect, their sentiments ought to be unequivocally known, that the principles on which the government has acted, and which, from the president's speech, are likely to be continued, may either be changed, or the opposition, that is endeavoring to embarrass every measure of the executive, may meet effectual discountenance. Things can not and ought not to remain any longer in their present disagreeable state. Nor should the idea that the government and the people have different views, be suffered any longer to prevail, at home or abroad; for it is not only injurious to us, but disgraceful also, that a government constituted as ours is should be administered contrary to their interests, if the fact be so.”

Public sentiment had now begun to assume a character coincident with that expressed by Washington. Because of the failure of Jefferson to be elected president of the United States, the French Directory signified their disapprobation and resentment, by issuing a decree against American commerce, equal in its effects to the worst practices of the British cruisers in their impressment of seamen, and seizure of vessels and goods of neutrals. It was intended by the French to be little short of a declaration of war. These outrages and insults of the French Directory had a powerful effect in arresting the fanaticism in regard to France that had so long prevailed; while the Aurora and other democratic newspapers, not daring, in the face of public opinion, to justify them, attempted to cast all the blame upon Jay's treaty.

The Congress moved with caution in carrying out the recommendations of the president. There was a decided federal majority in each branch of the national legislature, and both houses responded to the president's speech in terms of approval. Several members, who had usually acted with the opposition, voted in favor of resolutions for supporting the honor of the country; and the senate, by unanimous vote, confirmed the nomination, by the president, of Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, Elbridge Gerry, and John Marshall, as special envoys to the French republic, clothed with ample powers. They were to act jointly and severally as ministers plenipotentiary, the object of their mission being, as the president expressed it, to “dissipate umbrages, remove prejudices, rectify errors, and adjust all differences, by a treaty between the two powers.”

While the president and Congress were making these peaceful provisions for maintaining a good understanding, measures for defence were adopted. An act was passed to prevent American citizens from fitting out or employing privateers against nations at peace with the United States. The exportation of arms and ammunition was prohibited, and the importation of the same encouraged, by law. The president was also authorized to call out the militia to the number of eighty thousand, and to accept of the services of volunteers. A small naval force was also provided for, and means for extraordinary expenses incident to a state of war.

Washington had doubts of the success of the new mission. In a letter to Timothy Pickering, at the close of August, he said: “Candor is not a more conspicuous trait in the character of governments than it is of individuals. It is hardly to be expected, then, that the Directory of France will acknowledge its errors, and tread back its steps immediately. This would announce at once that there has been precipitancy and injustice in the measures they have pursued; or that they were incapable of judging, and had been deceived by false representations. Pride would be opposed to all these; and I can scarcely think the Directory will relinquish the hold it has upon those who more than probably have suggested and promoted the measures they have been pursuing. I rather suppose that they will lower their tone by degrees, and, as is usual, place the change to the credit of French magnanimity.”

Yet Washington had no fears concerning a war with France. To Pickering he wrote: “I can say with truth that my mind has never been alarmed by any fears of a war with France. I always knew that this government had no desire to go to war with that or any other country; and I as firmly believed that no power, without a semblance of justice, would declare war against it. That France has stepped far beyond the line of rectitude, can not be denied; that she has been encouraged to do so by a party among ourselves is, to my mind, equally certain; and when it is considered, moreover, that enriching themselves and injuring Great Britain were the expected consequences of their spoliation's, I could account, though not on honorable principles in them, for their going to a certain point; but I never did believe that they would declare an open war against us, or compel us, if they foresaw that would be the result, to declare it against them.”

In the autumn of 1797, Washington received a letter dated “Warren, Albemarle county,” and signed “John Langhorne,” in which the writer condoled with him on the aspersions of his character by his political opponents, and suggested that he ought not to allow them to disturb his repose. This letter was a forgery, there being no such person as John Langhorne, and was evidently intended to draw from Washington some expressions that might be used to his injury, and serve a party purpose. But Washington, ever guarded, let fall no word in his reply that could be so used. “For the divisions which have taken place among us, with respect to our political concerns,” he said, “for the attacks which have been made upon those to whom the administration of the government has been intrusted by the people, and for the calumnies which are levelled at all those who are disposed to support the measures thereof, I feel, on public account, as much as any man can do, because in my opinion much evil and no good can result to this country from such conduct. So far as these attacks are aimed at me personally, it is, I can assure you, a misconception, if it be supposed I feel the venom of the darts.”

This letter appears to have been written by a person whose name has never been given to the public. The fraud was discovered by a gentleman who lived near the residence of Mr. Jefferson. He was informed of a letter in the Charlottesville post-office, in the well-known handwriting of Washington, addressed to one whose name was unknown in that neighborhood; and he immediately apprized Washington, not only of that fact, but that his reply was sent for by a person whose political sentiments were averse to those of the late administration. Washington furnished his informant with a copy of the correspondence; and that gentleman, on investigation, expressed his opinion that the “plot” originated with Jefferson. Washington appears to have considered that opinion of some weight, for, in a response to the letter of his informant, he said: “If the person whom you suspect, was really the author of the letter under the signature of John Langhorne, it is not at all surprising to me that the correspondence should have ended where it did; for the penetration of that man would have perceived, at the first glance, that nothing was to be drawn from that mode of attack. In what form the next invidious attempts may appear, remains to be discovered.”

There is no evidence that Mr. Jefferson had any knowledge of the matter until the forgery was exposed, and his name had been connected with it by Washington's informant, whom he denominated his “malignant neighbor.” That neighbor was John Nicholas, commonly known as “Clerk John,” who, Mr. Randall says, “was a weak-headed, absurd busybody, with that restless itching for notoriety which renders a man, destitute of ability, sense, or delicacy, almost indifferent as to the subject.”[125] Washington was naturally indignant at this attempt to ensnare him, and his feelings were much disturbed by the alleged secret attacks upon him and his public measures by Jefferson and his friends. As we have already observed, he lost confidence in the genuineness of Jefferson's professions of friendship; and, from this time, there was no correspondence between them.

At about this time, Washington received the welcome news of the liberation of his friend Lafayette, and his expected speedy departure for America. Also a pamphlet on the “Military and Political Situation of France,” by General Dumas, an officer who had served under Rochambeau at Yorktown. On the subject of his friend's release, he wrote to M. de La Colombe, who had been Lafayette's adjutant-general when the latter commanded the National Guard, and who was then in Philadelphia, saying: “I congratulate you on the happy event of the liberation of our mutual friend, whose reception in this country will be, I am sure, cordial from all descriptions of people; from none more than myself. The answer given by him to the minister is noble, and worthy of himself.[126] The only regret I should feel on his arrival in America, if it should happen soon, would be his disappointment at not finding his son here. I said all I could with decency, both to him and M. Frestel, to induce their awaiting direct accounts from the prisoners before their departure; but the eagerness of the former to embrace his parents in the first moments of their release from a cruel imprisonment, was not to be restrained.”

These two great men and loving friends never met again on earth. Circumstances caused Lafayette to remain in Europe, and his visit to America was deferred more than a quarter of a century, when he came as the Nation's Guest.

Dumas's pamphlet, to which we have just alluded, and the author's accompanying letter, awakened pleasant emotions in the bosom of Washington, for intelligence of an old companion-in-arms was conveyed. “General Rochambeau,” wrote Dumas, “is still at his country-seat near Vendôme. He enjoys there tolerably good health, considering his great age, and reckons, as well as his military family, amongst his most dear and glorious remembrances, that of the time we had the honor to serve under your command.”

This announcement gave Washington real pleasure, for he had heard from time to time vague rumors of the vicissitudes of Rochambeau—first as field-marshal, in command of the revolutionary army of the north; then as a thwarted and disappointed man, dwelling in retirement; and then as a victim prepared for the guillotine, but saved by a sudden change in public affairs. He was glad to know that the general was enjoying repose in his old age. Rochambeau survived all the tempests of the Revolution, was honored by Napoleon with the cross of grand officer of the Legion of Honor, and a marshal's pension, and died in 1807, at the age of eighty-two years.

FOOTNOTES:

[125] Life of Jefferson, ii. 371.

[126] The emperor of Austria communicated to Lafayette, through the marquis de Chasteler, his intention to liberate him from his confinement at Olmutz, on certain conditions, to which the marquis refused to accede. In his reply to De Chasteler, Lafayette said:—

“His majesty, the emperor and king, demands an assurance that, immediately after my release, I will depart for America. This is an intention which I have often manifested; but since, in the actual state of things, an assurance to this effect would seem to recognise a right to impose this condition upon me, I think it not proper to satisfy such a demand.

“His majesty, the emperor and king, has done me the honor to signify that, as the principles which I profess are incompatible with the security of the Austrian government, it is his wish that I should never again enter his dominions without his special permission. There are duties from which I can not release myself—duties which I owe to the United States, and above all to France; nor can I consent to any act which shall derogate from the rights of my country over my person.

“With these reservations, I can assure the marquis de Chasteler that it is my fixed determination never again to set my foot in any country which yields obedience to his imperial majesty the king of Bohemia and Hungary.”—Sparks's Life of Washington, vol. xi., note ix. of the Appendix.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

TOP

american envoys in paris—directory seeking money—talleyrand and his agents—propositions for an apology, loan, and bribe—indignant refusal—attempts to frighten the envoys—two of them ordered out of france—they all leave—excitement in the united states—congress prepares for war—patriotic addresses to the president—hamilton calls washington to the rescue of his country—washington's response—the president perplexed—he turns to washington—appeal of the secretary of war—washington's replies—is appointed commander-in-chief of the armies of the united states—hamilton urges him to accept—the president sends him a commission—secretary of war at mount vernon—washington accepts the appointment—his selection of officers.

The three United States envoys—Pinckney, Gerry, and Marshall—met in Paris on the fourth of October, 1797, and were approached by the wily diplomat, M. de Talleyrand, minister for foreign affairs, in a spirit not at all pleasing either to their expectations or their desires. They had been sent upon a mission of peace, charged with honorable purposes, and were met with propositions insulting and disgraceful. On their arrival, the envoys sent a joint letter to Talleyrand, informing him of their presence and purposes, and requesting him to appoint a time for receiving copies of their letters of credence. He informed them that he was then engaged upon a report to the Directory on American affairs, and that, when it should be completed, he would inform them what was to be done. At the same time he sent them permits (cards of hospitality) to reside in Paris meanwhile.

The Directory had resolved to extort money from the envoys, if possible; and in the course of a few days after their first communication with Talleyrand, that minister, through secret agents, began to sound them. One of these informed them that he had, as if by accident, learned through Talleyrand's private secretary that the Directory were very much exasperated at the tone of the president's speech at the opening of the special session of Congress. Another, a partner in a noted commercial house in Paris, volunteered to answer their drafts to any amount; a third called on them, and, in a private interview with Pinckney, said that he had a message from Talleyrand, suggesting a plan by which a reconciliation between the two governments might be brought about. That “plan” proposed that some of the most offensive passages in the president's speech should be expunged or softened before the envoys should be received; a loan to be made to the republic; and a douceur to the Directory of nearly two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The envoys were astonished, but resolved to treat the matter in such a way that they might ascertain the real sentiments of the French government, without exciting suspicions.

Shortly afterward (October twentieth), Talleyrand's secret agent again appeared before the envoys, and introduced Mr. Bellamy, a citizen of Hamburg, who came as an intimate friend of the minister for foreign affairs, but without, as he said, any diplomatic authority. He assured the envoys that Talleyrand was well disposed toward the United States; that if the offensive portions of the president's speech should be expunged, the loan made, and the douceur given, a new treaty would be made, and all would be well. “We want money,” said Bellamy, speaking for his principals—“a great deal of money.”

Another conference was held on the following day, when the secret agent and Bellamy breakfasted with the envoys. It was stated that the Directory insisted upon an apology, or its equivalent, for the offensive words of the president; but Bellamy gave it as his private opinion that the matter might be compromised with money. At that conference the amount of the loan was fixed at six millions four hundred thousand dollars, to be secured by Dutch “inscriptions,” or obligations extorted from them by the French; and the douceur to the Directory at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

“The proposition for a loan can not be met by any construction of our instructions,” said the envoys. “One of us, however, will return home and consult our government on that point, provided the Directory will agree to suspend, in the interval, all further captures of American vessels, and all proceedings on captures already made.” The agents of the Directory were quite surprised at this answer. Bellamy spoke of the resentment of that body, and said that, if money could not be had from the envoys, the apology would be expected. To his astonishment, he was informed that such a proceeding was wholly out of the question; that the president had exercised his constitutional privilege in giving to Congress his ideas on national affairs, and that in doing so he had only stated facts in regard to French relations with which the American people were already familiar. The agents seemed greatly astonished at the audacity of the envoys, and withdrew, satisfied that they could accomplish nothing.

An interview between the envoys and Talleyrand was arranged for the twenty-seventh. The minister repeated, in substance, the proposition of his agents; but the representatives of America were firm. Finally, after more unofficial interviews with other agents of the Directory, who had endeavored to frighten the American ministers by menaces of the hostility of France; who had painted, in glowing colors, the immense power and resources of the French nation, and the dangers to be apprehended from its indignation; who claimed that in the friendship of France alone could America look for safety—the envoys told them plainly: “Gentlemen, we will not give you a dollar. Before coming here, we should not have thought it possible that such an offer would have been made to us. A transaction such as you propose, would be disgraceful to all parties concerned.” And then it was that Pinckney made that terse and indignant remark which has become proverbial: “Millions for defence, but not one cent for tribute!”

Startled by the indignation and boldness of the envoys, the agent of the executive government intimated that if they would pay, for the private use of the Directory, the sum named, by way of fees, as they would pay a lawyer, they might remain in Paris until they should receive further orders from home respecting the loan required for the government. This base proposition to purchase the services of the Directory was rejected with disdain; and the French executive government, in the persons of its agents, withdrew abashed, and did not prosecute the disgraceful measures any further. Indeed, the envoys refused to have any further intercourse with them.

The American ministers remained several months in Paris, urging the objects of their mission at all proper times, but without success. The Directory refused to acknowledge them in their official character, and they were, from time to time, importuned for money by Talleyrand, in his unofficial visits to them. Finally, perceiving that their reception was out of the question, they prepared a full statement, in a letter addressed to Talleyrand, in which they made explanations, and gave proofs unequivocal of the friendliness of the government of the United States toward that of France. To this Talleyrand made an elaborate reply, and the envoys, in April, met it with a rejoinder.

Talleyrand's tactics were now changed, and he endeavored by various attempts to induce Pinckney and Marshall, who were federalists, voluntarily to relinquish their station, and leave negotiations with Gerry, who belonged to the republican party, and was supposed to sympathize with the French Directory. In this the wily diplomat did not succeed. Satisfied that nothing could seduce them from the path of rectitude, the Directory ordered those two envoys to quit the territories of the French republic immediately; while, to aggravate the insult to the American government, Mr. Gerry, because he belonged to a party favorable to France, was permitted to remain. Gerry, frightened (as he afterward said, in excuse for his conduct) by Talleyrand's threat of an immediate declaration of war against the United States by France if he should leave, consented to remain. Yet he refused to sanction the expulsion of his colleagues. He would not treat independently of them; and, finally, the entire embassy returned home. Marshall left France at the middle of April, Gerry on the twenty-sixth of July, but Pinckney was detained until October, on account of the ill health of his daughter.

During the whole time of these attempts at negotiation, the French Directory allowed many gross insults to the United States government to be perpetrated. Open war was waged upon American commerce by French cruisers; and the American flag floating over a vessel was deemed a sufficient justification for the capture and condemnation of such vessel.

When the final despatches of the envoys reached the public eye and ear in the United States, there was an outburst of indignation over all the land, that proclaimed the dignity of true patriotism in the presence of mere party considerations. The nation felt insulted by the attempt to degrade the republic into a tributary dependant of France; and the indignities offered to the representatives of their government, and the injuries inflicted upon their commerce, were resented with great warmth. The words of Pinckney were reported, and in every part of the continent was heard the cry—“Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute!” And yet there were those slavish enough to justify France, by criminating the American government. The Aurora was foremost in this labor; and, preparatory to such defense, it had published Talleyrand's reply to the statement of the envoys, which had been received by Bache before it reached the government of the United States.

It was argued that the intentions of France were not really hostile; that men under British influence, who wished for war, had misrepresented her conduct; that, admitting her position to be hostile, she only demanded those marks of friendship which, at a critical moment, she had herself afforded America; that the real interests of the United States required a compliance with the demands of the Directory for a loan and a bribe; that it would cost more money to resist than to comply; that resistance would be inevitably ineffectual; and that national honor was never secured by national defeat.

But such logic, degrading and unpatriotic in tendency, did not suit the temper of the American people at that time. A war-spirit was aroused not easily to be appeased, except by the ministrations of justice. In Congress, vigorous measures for defence and retaliation were adopted. Means for administering chastisement for injuries received, and for repelling those which were threatened, were provided with willing alacrity. A regular army was authorized. 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 existing difficulties with France, if not sooner discharged. He was also authorized to appoint officers for a provisional army, and to receive and organize volunteer corps, which should be exempt from ordinary militia duty.

These measures of Congress were fully approved by the great mass of the people. The president received addresses from all parts of the Union, whose spirit attested the patriotic sentiment of the nation; and the executive, in turn, warmed by like sentiments, made responses that sustained the ardor of the people.

Then arose spontaneously in every mind the question, “Who shall command our army in this crisis?” and in every mind was the same response. All hearts turned instinctively toward Washington as the only man in the nation fitted for that important trust. The loud, harsh voice of party spirit was hushed to a whisper; and men who had joined in the clamor of reproach against the late president because of his public measures, were among the first, in this hour of peril, to turn to him as the only leader in whom they might implicitly trust. Intimations of this nature reached Washington almost daily while Congress were busy in preparing for war; and finally, near the close of May, Hamilton, in a confidential and highly interesting letter, wrote to him, saying:—

“At the present dangerous crisis of public affairs, I make no apology for troubling you with a political letter. Your impressions of our situation, I am persuaded, are not different from mine. There is certainly great probability that we may have to enter into a very serious struggle with France; and it is more and more evident that the powerful faction which has for years opposed the government is determined to go every length with France. I am sincere in declaring my full conviction, as the result of a long course of observation, that they are ready to new model our constitution, under the influence or coercion of France; to form with her a perpetual alliance, offensive and defensive; and to give her a monopoly of our trade, by peculiar and exclusive privileges. This would be in substance, whatever it might be in name, to make this country a province of France. Neither do I doubt that her standard, displayed in this country, would be directly or indirectly seconded by them, in pursuance of the project I have mentioned.

“It is painful and alarming to remark that the opposition faction assumes so much a geographical complexion. As yet, from the south of Maryland, nothing has been heard but accounts of disapprobation of our government, and approbation of our apology for France. This is a most portentous symptom, and demands every human effort to change it.

“In such a state of public affairs, it is impossible not to look up to you, and to wish that your influence could in some proper mode be brought into direct action.” Hamilton then suggested the propriety of Washington's taking a tour southward, which would call out the people in public demonstrations, and would give him an opportunity of expressing sentiments which would throw the weight of his character into the scale of the government, and revive an enthusiasm for his person that might be turned into a right channel. He concluded by saying: “You ought 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 considerations, 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 labor may demand, to give it efficacy, this further—this great sacrifice.”

Notwithstanding these alarm-bell notes from Hamilton, in whose political sagacity Washington had unbounded confidence, he could not bring himself to believe that actual war between the two countries would ensue. “You may be assured,” he replied, “that my mind is deeply impressed with the present situation of our public affairs, and not a little agitated by the outrageous conduct of France toward the United States, and at the unparalleled conduct of its partisans, who aid and abet their measures. You may believe further, from assurances equally sincere, that, if there was anything in my power, which could be done with consistency, 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 at all points for the worst that can happen—and no one is more disposed to this measure than I am—I can not make up my mind yet for the expectation of open war, or, in other words, for a formidable invasion by France. I can not believe, although I think them capable of anything bad, that they will attempt to do more than they have done; or that, when they perceive the spirit and policy of this country rising into resistance, and that they have falsely calculated upon support from a large part of the people thereof to promote their views and influence in it, they will not desist even from these practices, unless unexpected events in Europe, and their possession of Louisiana and the Floridas, should induce them to continue the measure. And I believe further, that, although the leaders of their party in this country will not change their sentiments, they will be obliged, nevertheless, to change their plan, or the mode of carrying it on, from the effervescence which is appearing in all quarters, and from the desertion of their followers, which must frown them into silence, at least for awhile.

“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 the relinquishment, and go with as much reluctance from my present peaceful abode, as I should do to the tomb of my ancestors.

“To say at this time, determinately, what I should do under such circumstances, might be improper, having once before departed from a similar resolution; but I may declare to you, that, as there is no conviction in my breast that I could serve my country with more efficiency in the command of the armies it might levy than many others, an expression of its wish that I should do so must, somehow or other, be unequivocally known, to satisfy my mind, that, notwithstanding the respect in which I may be held on account of former services, a preference might not be given to a man more in his prime; and it might well be supposed, too, that I should like precisely to know who would be my coadjutors, and whether you would be disposed to take an active part, if arms are to be resorted to.”[127]

President Adams found himself placed in a most perplexing position by the authority given him by Congress to form a provisional army, with its complement of major-generals and their subordinate officers. He had no military knowledge upon which his judgment might rely. Among the surviving officers of the Revolution, he perceived none in whom he felt implicit confidence as a wise adviser, or as a proper person for generalissimo of the new army; and, like all his fellow citizens, he turned to Washington as the Mæcenas upon whose sagacious counsels the safety of the republic depended in that critical hour. He well knew how painful it would be for the retired president to be again drawn into active public life; and he also well knew that it had ever been a controlling maxim of Washington's life never to allow personal considerations to interfere with the public welfare. Impressed with this fact, Adams wrote to Washington on the twenty-second of June, saying: “In forming an army, whenever I must come to that extremity, I am at an immense loss whether to call on all 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 efficiency in it than in many an army.”

Four days afterward, M'Henry, the secretary of war, wrote: “You see how the storm thickens, and that our vessel will soon require its ancient pilot. Will you—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.”

The letters of the president and of the secretary of war were detained on the way. They both reached Washington on the fourth of July, and were answered on the same day. He assured the president that, as far as was in his power, he should be ready to support the administration; and, “to render it easy, happy, and honorable,” he said, “you may command me without reserve.” After alluding to his former opinion that the United States were in no danger of invasion from a foreign power, he added: “But this seems to be an 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 its own citizens, and to disturb the repose of all the world besides.

“From a view of the past and the present,” he continued, “and from the prospect 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 intrench myself under the cover of age and retirement, if my services should be required by my country to assist in repelling it. If there be good cause—which must be better known to the government than to private citizens—to expect such an event, delay in preparing for it might be dangerous, improper, and not to be justified by prudence.”

After again expressing his conviction that the French would not, in the face of the unequivocal display of public opinion in the United States in favor of resenting the national insults, proceed to the extremity of actual war, he said: “Having with candor made this disclosure of the state of my mind, it remains only that I should add, that, to those who know me best, it is best known that, if imperious circumstances should induce me to renounce the smooth paths of retirement for the thorny ways of public life—at a period, too, when repose is most congenial to nature, and a calm indispensable to contemplation—it would be productive of sensations more easily conceived than expressed.”

Washington concluded his letter with valuable hints about officering the provisional army. He suggested that the “old set of generals,” who were in the War for Independence, might not have “sufficient activity, energy, and health,” for the widely-different service into which they would be called; and that the more energetic of younger officers should be preferred. He specially advised the president to be very judicious in the choice of the general staff of the army. “If this corps,” he said, “is not composed of respectable characters, who have a knowledge of the duties of their respective departments—able, active, and firm, and of incorruptible integrity and prudence, and withal such as the commander-in-chief can place entire confidence in—his plans and movements, if not defeated altogether, may be so embarrassed and retarded as to amount nearly to the same thing.”

To M'Henry, Washington wrote with all the freedom of intimate friendship, saying: “I see, as you do, that clouds are gathering, and that a storm may ensue; and I find, too, from a variety of hints, that my quiet under these circumstances does not promise to be of long continuance.... As my whole life has been dedicated to my country, in one shape or another, for the poor remains of it, it is not an object to contend for ease and quiet, when all that is valuable in it is at stake, farther than to be satisfied that the sacrifice I should make of them is acceptable and desired by my country.

“The principles by which my conduct has been actuated through life would not suffer me, in any great emergency, to withhold any services I could render, required by my country; especially in a case where its dearest rights are assailed by lawless ambition and intoxicated power, contrary to every principle of justice, and in violation of solemn compacts and laws, which govern all civilized nations.... In circumstances like these, accompanied by an actual invasion of our territorial rights, it would be difficult at any time for me to remain an idle spectator under the plea of age and 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 decided answer to your question.

“First, the propriety, in the opinion of the public, so far as that opinion has been expressed in conversation, of my appearing again on a public theatre, after declaring the sentiments I did in my Valedictory Address, of September, 1796.

“Secondly, a conviction in my own breast, from the best information that can be obtained, that it is the wish of my country that the military force of it should be committed to my charge; and—

“Thirdly, 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 give his views in detail, upon these three points, without reserve. He did not feel at liberty to do so to the president directly, because his excellency had only hinted his wishes in delicate terms. His habits of intimacy with the secretary of war, and that officer's more explicit solicitations, made him feel free to lay his sentiments before him. At the same time, he gave Mr. M'Henry liberty to show his letter to the president.

On the second of July, before Washington had received these letters, President Adams nominated him to the senate as “lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of all the armies raised and to be raised in the United States.” The senate confirmed the nomination, by unanimous vote, on the same day; and Secretary M'Henry was despatched to Mount Vernon a few days afterward, to bear the commission to Washington. He also bore a letter from the president, and open instructions concerning his interview with the new commander-in-chief.[128] “Mr. M'Henry, secretary of war,” wrote the president, “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 to 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. M'Henry will have the honor to consult you upon the organization of the army, and upon everything relating to it.”

On the day of the nomination, M'Henry wrote to Washington, not knowing at that moment that he would be the bearer of the general's commission. After speaking of the nomination and the confirmation, he added: “Thus you are again called upon by all voices to fill a station which all think you alone qualified for at this moment. I know what must be your feelings, and how many motives you must have for preferring the privacy you are in the enjoyment of, to the troubles and perplexities of a commander of an army. This, however, is the crowning sacrifice which I pray to God you may agree to make for the sake of your country, and give the last finish to a fame nothing short of such a call and the present occasion could have been capable of increasing.”

On the eighth of July, Hamilton wrote to Washington, saying: “I was surprised that your nomination had been without any previous consultation of you. Convinced of the goodness of the motives, it would be useless to scan the propriety of the step. It is taken, and the question is, 'What, under the circumstances, ought to be done?' I use the liberty which my attachment to you and to the public authorizes, to offer my opinion that you should not decline the appointment. It is evident that the public satisfaction at it is lively and universal. It is not to be doubted that the circumstances will give an additional spring to the public mind—will tend much to unite, and will facilitate the measures which the conjunction requires. On the other hand, your declining would certainly produce the opposite effects—would throw a great damp upon the ardor of the country, inspiring the idea that the crisis was not really serious or alarming. At least, then, let me entreat you—and in this all your friends, indeed all good citizens, will unite—that, if you do not give an unqualified acceptance, that you accept provisionally, making your entering upon the duties to depend on future events, so that the community may look up to you as their certain commander. But I prefer a simple acceptance.”

The meeting of Washington and the secretary of war was cordial, and their communications were free and unreserved. The former had reflected upon the situation of his country, and its demands upon his services, and had, though with a heavy heart, determined to accept the appointment, provided he could be permitted to select for the higher departments of the army, and especially for the military staff, those in whom he could place the greatest confidence. M'Henry assured him that his wishes in that respect would be complied with; and, before the secretary left, Washington gave him a list of officers, according to an arrangement which he should recommend.[129]

On the thirteenth of July, Washington wrote his letter of acceptance to President Adams, and placed it in the hands of the secretary of war, who left Mount Vernon on that day. “I can not express,” he said, “how greatly affected I am at this new proof of public confidence, and 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 on 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 I had consoled myself with, 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 hostilities 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 defenceless commerce, their treatment of our minister of peace, and their demands amounting to tribute, could not fail to excite in me corresponding sentiments with those which my countrymen have so generally expressed in their addresses to you. Believe me, sir, no one can more cordially approve of 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 the 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 which has heretofore and so often signally favored the people of these 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 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 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, and that I can not receive any emoluments annexed to the appointment before entering into a situation to incur expense.”

FOOTNOTES:

[127] Hamilton expressed his willingness to enter the army, if he should be invited to a station in which the service he might render might be proportionate to the sacrifice he was to make. “If you command,” he said, “the place in which I should hope to be most useful is that of inspector-general, with a command in the line. This I would accept.”

[128] The following were M'Henry's instructions:—

“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, 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, Muhlenburg, 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 names and the service as you can.”

[129] The arrangement was as follows:—

| Alexander Hamilton, Inspector. | }
| Charles C. Pinckney, | } | Major-Generals.
| Henry Knox, or, if either refuses, | }
| Henry Lee, | }
| Henry Lee (if not major-general), | }
| John Brooks, | }
| William S. Smith, or | } | Brigadiers.
| John Eager Howard, | }
| Edward Hand, or | }
| Jonathan Dayton, or | } | Adjutant-General
| William S. Smith (if not brigadier), | }
| Edward Carrington, Quartermaster-General.
| James Craik, Director of Hospitals.

CHAPTER XL.

TOP

hamilton acting commander-in-chief—arrangement of general officers—mortification of knox—his letter to washington—a soothing reply—knox offers himself as aid-de-camp—the president's indecision—washington's decided letter to the president—his arrangement of generals confirmed—tardiness in recruiting—remissness of the secretary of war—another letter to knox—he declines serving under hamilton—general pinckney's generous course—meeting of the generals in philadelphia—arrangements for the army—hamilton left in command—washington's suggestions—correspondence with lafayette.

Having accepted the appointment of commander-in-chief of the provisional army, Washington entered at once upon the duties of his office by preparations for its organization. “I have consented to embark once more on the boundless ocean of responsibility and trouble,” he wrote to Hamilton; and added, “I rely upon you as a coadjutor and assistant in the turmoils I have consented to encounter.” This, as we have observed, was Washington's desire from the first moment when it appeared probable that he would be invited to take the leadership of the army; and, as we have seen, he placed Hamilton first on the list of his generals, in his suggestions to the secretary of war. His reasons for this selection were given to the president many weeks afterward, when there appeared to be a disposition on the part of Adams to reverse the order, and place Knox at the head of the general staff.

“Although Colonel Hamilton,” he said, “has never acted in the character of a general officer, yet his opportunities, as the principal and most confidential aid of the commander-in-chief, afforded him the means of viewing everything on a larger scale than those whose attention was confined to divisions or brigades, who knew nothing of the correspondences of the commander-in-chief, or of the various orders to or transactions with the general staff of the army. These advantages, and his having served with usefulness in the old Congress, in the general convention, and having filled one of the most important departments of government with acknowledged abilities and integrity, have placed him on high ground, and made him a conspicuous character in the United States, and even in Europe.... He is enterprising, quick in his perceptions, and his judgment intuitively great; qualities essential to a military character.” Thus appreciating Hamilton, Washington did not hesitate to place him in the position of acting commander-in-chief of the provisional army, it having been stipulated, as we have observed, that the lieutenant-general should not be called to the field unless under certain contingencies.

Washington's arrangement of the rank of his major-generals was made solely with reference to the public good. He apprehended that both Knox and Pinckney (the latter yet in Europe) would feel aggrieved at the promotion of Hamilton over their heads, they being his seniors in age and superiors in rank. Yet he could not act otherwise than in accordance with the convictions of his judgment. And in placing the veteran Knox below Pinckney, he consulted the interests of his country rather than his own feelings.

In communicating to Knox the fact of his appointment, Washington said: “As you have always found, and I trust ever will find, candor a prominent part of my character, I must add that causes, which would exceed the limits of an ordinary letter to explain, are in the way of such an arrangement as might render your situation perfectly agreeable; but I fondly hope that the difficulty will not be insurmountable in your decision.” He then informed him that he had chosen Colonel Hamilton as his second in command, and General Pinckney next; saying of the latter gentleman, that he was active, spirited, and intelligent, who, it was understood at the South, had made military tactics as much if not more his study than any officer in the continental army during the Revolution. “His character, in other respects, in that quarter,” he said, “before his late embassy, was also high; and throughout the Union it has acquired celebrity by his conduct as minister and envoy. His connections are numerous, and their influence extensive. When to these considerations I add, as my decided opinion, for reasons unnecessary to enumerate, that if the French intend an invasion of this country in force, their operations will commence south of Maryland, and probably of Virginia, you will see at once the importance of embarking this gentleman and all his connections heartily in all the active scenes that would follow.” He then expressed a hope that, in the impending struggle for everything that ought to be dear and sacred to freemen, former rank would be forgotten; and that, among the fit and chosen characters, the only contention would be, who should be foremost in zeal and patriotism at that crisis to serve his country, in whatever situation circumstances might place him.

Knox was deeply mortified by the preference given to Hamilton and Pinckney; and, in the moments of irritated pride, and at the impulse of deeply-wounded feelings, he wrote a warm reply to Washington. “Yesterday,” he said, “I received your favor of the sixteenth instant, which I opened with all the delightful sensations of affection which I always before experienced upon the receipt of your letters. But I found, in its perusal, a striking instance of that vicissitude of human affairs and friendships which you so justly describe. I read it with astonishment, which, however, subsided in the reflection that few men well know themselves, and therefore that for more than twenty years I have been acting under a perfect delusion. Conscious myself of entertaining for you a sincere, active, and invariable friendship, I easily believed it was reciprocal. Nay, more; I flattered myself with your esteem, and respect in a military point of view. But I find that others, greatly my juniors in rank, have been, upon a scale of comparison, preferred before me. Of this, perhaps, the world may also concur with you, that I have no just reason to complain. But every intelligent and just principle of society required, either that I should have been previously consulted on an arrangement in which my feelings and happiness have been so much wounded, or that I should not have been dragged forth to public view at all, to make the comparison so conspicuously odious.

“I revere the cause of my country far beyond all my powers of description. I am charmed with its honorable and dignified proceedings relatively to foreign nations, under the former and present administrations of the supreme executive; and I shall be proud of an honorable opportunity of sealing the truth of these opinions with my blood. It will be to me a malignant shaft of fate, indeed, if I am to be excluded from active service by a constant sense of public insult and injury.

“It would be absurd in me,” he said, “to complain of an arrangement already made, with any view to a change.” He then took a general survey of the whole matter, in an expostulary tone; expressed his belief that there had been some “management,” of which Washington was not apprized; and that, if there should be an invasion of the South, Mr. Pinckney might submit to the arrangement for a time. “But, if no such pressure should exist,” he continued, “I have mistaken his character greatly if he will accept.” After many remarks respecting the probable course of events in connection with the French, he said:—

“If such a train of events should occur (and events infinitely less probable have occurred in thick succession for the last seven years), all the military energy of America will be required. Then an opportunity may be afforded in which a better value may be set upon my services than at the present, and I may be permitted to exert myself unshackled by any degradation of character.

“I have received no other notification of an appointment than what the newspapers announce. When it shall please the secretary of war to give me the information, I shall endeavor to make him a suitable answer. At present, I do not perceive how it can possibly be to any other purport than in the negative.... In whatever situation I shall be,” he said in conclusion, “I shall always remember with pleasure and gratitude the friendship and confidence with which you have heretofore honored me.”

This letter gave Washington great pain. He loved Knox very sincerely, and would not, without good cause, say or do anything to wound his feelings. He always spoke of him with the warmth of the most disinterested friendship. “There is no man in the United States,” he wrote to President Adams a few weeks later, “with whom I have been in habits of greater intimacy, no one whom I have loved more sincerely, nor any for whom I have had a greater friendship. But esteem, love, and friendship, can have no influence on my mind, when I conceive that the subjugation of our government and independence are the objects aimed at by the enemies of our peace, and where possibly our all is at stake.”

Washington made an early reply to Knox's epistle. “Your letter,” he said, “has filled my mind with disquietude and perplexity in the extreme; but I will say nothing in reply, intentionally, that shall give you a moment's pain.” He then entered into an elaborate history of the circumstances under which the appointments were made, showing that such haste had been exercised, that the first intimation he had of his own appointment was from a newspaper paragraph and a private note from the secretary of war; and that it was impossible for him to consult General Knox, who was then in Boston, previous to the nomination of the general officers.

Feeling that his statements in a former letter ought to have been sufficiently explanatory to General Knox, Washington continued: “I do not know that these explanations will afford you any satisfaction, or produce any change in your determination, but it was just to myself to make them. If there has been any management in the business, it has been concealed from me. I have had no agency therein, nor have I conceived a thought on the subject that has not been disclosed to you with the utmost sincerity and frankness of heart. And now, notwithstanding the insinuations, which are implied in your letter, of the vicissitudes of friendship and the inconstancy of mine, I will pronounce with decision that it ever has been, and, notwithstanding the unkindness of the charge, ever will be, for aught I know to the contrary, warm and sincere.

“I earnestly wished, on account of that friendship, as well as on the score of military talents, to have had the assistance of you and Colonel Hamilton in the arduous scenes with which we are threatened. I wish it still devoutly, as well on public as on private accounts; for dissentions of this sort will have an unhappy effect among the friends of government, while it will be sweet consolation to the French partisans, and food for their pride.”

Washington's letter touched the heart of Knox, and soothed his wounded spirit. “In your welcome and much-esteemed favor,” he wrote in reply, “I recognize fully all the substantial friendship and kindness which I have always so invariably experienced from you.” His former letter was written, he said, “under a pressure of various ideas, all sharpened by a strong sense of the comparison which had been publicly made between others” and himself. But, he said, in conclusion, “it is certainly far from my intention to embarrass, or to force myself unbidden into a station designed for another. It is neither my nature nor practice to excite dissention. I shall, therefore, submit to any proper authority. But, if an invasion shall take place, I shall deeply regret all circumstances which would insuperably bar my having an active command in the field. But, if such a measure should be my destiny, I shall fervently petition to serve as one of your aides-de-camp, which, with permission, I shall do with all the cordial devotion and attachment of which my soul is capable.”

During the autumn of 1798, Washington's time was alternately devoted to the business of his estate, and the duties of his responsible office. The latter occupied much the larger portion of his thoughts and exertions. Difficulties, which gave him much trouble in the old war, now appeared—namely, questions of rank, and tardiness in the recruiting-service. The friends of Knox, lacking that officer's love and veneration for Washington, importuned the president, in whose hands resided the power to make military appointments, to reverse the order in which the lieutenant-general had named the major-generals. Adams was secretly hostile to Hamilton at that time, and was not favorable to his promotion; and he was strongly inclined to place Knox at the head of the military staff, Pinckney second, and Hamilton third. This inclination produced some dissentions in his cabinet, when the jealous irritability of his temper, and his egotistical reliance upon his own judgment, made him resolve to change the order of the major-generals. When this subject, and the fact that the president intended to appoint an adjutant-general without the chief's concurrence, came before Washington in official form, he wrote a decided letter to Adams, giving him to understand that he should consider a refusal to place Hamilton in the front rank, a breach of an agreement, not formally made, but fully implied, by the terms upon which the commander-in-chief accepted the appointment—a breach sufficient to justify his own resignation. This settled the matter, and the arrangement of the major-generals made by Washington was not changed.

In the same letter, the chief complained of the tardiness in the recruiting-service. “We are now near the end of September,” he said, “and not a man recruited, nor a battalion-officer appointed, that has come to my knowledge. The consequence is, that the spirit and enthusiasm, which prevailed a month or two ago, and would have produced the best men in a short time, are evaporating fast, and a month or two hence may induce but a few, and those perhaps of the worst sort, to enlist. Instead, therefore, of having the augmented force in a state of preparation, and under a course of discipline, it is now to be raised, and possibly may not be in existence when the enemy is in the field. We shall have to meet veteran troops, inured to conquest, with militia or raw recruits.”

Washington also complained, at this time, of the remissness of the secretary of war in giving him full information. In a friendly but decisive tone he wrote to Mr. M'Henry on the subject. “Short letters,” he said, “taking no notice of suggestions or queries, are unsatisfactory and distressing. Considering the light in which I think my services have placed me, I should expect more attention from the secretary of war; but from Mr. M'Henry, as a friend and coadjutor, I certainly shall look for it.”

A month later, Washington wrote a friendly letter to Knox, urging him to accept the proffered appointment. The president had not, till then, made his final decision as to the relative position of Knox and Hamilton. The commander-in-chief again dwelt upon the cause of the selection. “If an amicable arrangement could have been settled between Generals Hamilton, Pinckney, and yourself, previous to the nomination, it would have been perfectly satisfactory to me; but driven as I was to make it myself, at the time and in the manner it was transmitted, I was governed by the best views and best evidence I could obtain of the public sentiment relative thereto. The senate acted upon it under an impression that it was to remain so, and in that light the matter is understood by the public; and it would be uncandid not to add that I have found no cause since to believe that I mistook that sentiment.

“We shall have,” he continued, “either no war or a severe contest with France. In either case, if you will allow me to express my opinion, this is the most eligible time for you to come forward. In the first case, to assist with your counsel and aid in making judicious provisions and arrangements to avert it; in the other case, to share in the glory of defending your country, and, by making all secondary considerations yield to that great and primary object, display a mind superior to embarrassing punctilios at so critical a moment as the present.

“After having expressed these sentiments, with the frankness of undisguised friendship, it is hardly necessary to add that, if you should finally decline the appointment of major-general, there is none to whom I would give a more decided preference as aid-de-camp, the offer of which is highly flattering, honorable, and grateful to my feelings, and for which I entertain a high sense. But, my dear General Knox—and here, again, I speak to you in the language of candor and friendship—examine well your mind upon this subject. Do not unite yourself to the suite of a man whom you may consider as the primary cause of what you call a degradation, with unpleasant sensations. This, while it was growing upon you, would, if I should come to the knowledge of it, make me unhappy; as my first wish would be, that my military family and the whole army should consider themselves as a band of brothers, willing and ready to die for each other.”

Before this letter reached Knox, he had heard of the decision of the president to place Hamilton in the position for which Washington had nominated him, and he had written to the secretary of war, declining the appointment, if compelled to serve under Hamilton and Pinckney, saying, “No officer can consent to his own degradation by serving in an inferior station.”

General Pinckney's course was more patriotic and generous. He arrived at New York, from France, at the middle of October. Washington had awaited this event with anxiety, for he was fearful that he might have a repetition of the difficulties with General Knox. But Pinckney cheerfully acquiesced in the arrangement, and accepted his commission. He expressed his pleasure at seeing the name of Hamilton at the head of the major-generals, and applauded the commander-in-chief for his sagacity and discernment in placing it there. He also expressed his regret that General Knox had declined his appointment, and that his feelings had been severely wounded by being outranked. He added, “If the authority which appointed me to the rank of second major in the army, will revise the arrangement, and place General Knox before me, I will neither quit the service nor be dissatisfied.”

At the request of the secretary of war, Washington repaired to Philadelphia as early in November as a due regard to health would allow, the yellow fever having prevailed in that city during the autumn. He was requested to meet there Generals Hamilton and Pinckney, to make arrangements respecting the provisional army about to be raised. M'Henry had prepared a series of thirteen questions for their consideration, and Washington propounded fourteen more, all bearing upon the construction and disposition of the army. For almost five weeks the three generals were closely engaged in the consideration of this subject, and thus the result of their deliberations was reduced to proper arrangement, in the form of two letters to the secretary of war, which were prepared by Hamilton and signed by Washington. While in Philadelphia on this occasion, the latter was present at the opening of Congress. This was his last visit to the seat of the federal government.

Washington returned to Mount Vernon about the twentieth of December, leaving the executive department of the provisional army in the hands of General Hamilton. He still adhered to the opinion that there would be no actual war with France, or at least that the people of the United States need not have any fear of a French invasion; yet he acted upon the wise principle of being prepared. On his way home, being detained, he wrote out some general suggestions for the guidance of the secretary of war in the disposition of the army.

Arriving at Mount Vernon, Washington was delighted with a letter from Lafayette, who spoke with much feeling of the pleasure he derived from conversations with his son about that pleasant home on the Potomac. The marquis then adverted to politics, and said it was his full persuasion that the French Directory seriously desired to be at peace with the United States. Under this conviction, he expressed a hope that Washington would use his “influence to prevent the breach from widening, and to insure a noble and enduring reconciliation.” In his reply to this portion of the letter, Washington said, “You have expressed a wish worthy of the benevolence of your heart.” He assured him that no man could deprecate a rupture between the two governments more than he. “You add,” he said, “that the executive Directory are disposed to an accommodation of all differences. If they are sincere in this declaration, let them evidence it by their actions; for words, unaccompanied therewith, will not be much regarded now. I would pledge myself that the government and people of the United States will meet them heart and hand, at a fair negotiation; having no wish more ardent than to live in peace with all the world, provided they are suffered to remain undisturbed in their just rights.... On the politics of Europe, I shall express no opinion, nor make any inquiry who is right or who is wrong. I wish well to all nations and to all men. My politics are plain and simple. I think every nation has a right to establish that form of government under which it conceives it may be most happy, provided it infracts no right, or is not dangerous to others; and that no governments ought to interfere with the internal concerns of another, except for the security of what is due to themselves.”

CHAPTER XLI.

TOP

gloomy aspect of affairs—washington's hopefulness—the french directory alarmed—new mission to france—opposition to it—washington's views—envoys depart for france—napoleon bonaparte at the head of french affairs—result of the mission—washington at home—correspondence with young custis—marriage of nelly custis—preparations for improvements—washington makes his will—letter to lawrence lewis—plan for managing his estates—washington's latest correspondence.

1799

At the opening of the year 1799, the political firmament was dark with the portentous clouds of war. Washington yet viewed them with calmness, for he fully believed that they would pass by and leave his country unscathed by the lightning and the hail. Already they had begun to break, and let the sunlight through. But these promises were discerned by few, while they were clear and full to the mental eye of the commander-in-chief and other sagacious men. They perceived that the military preparations made so vigorously by the United States had already begun to produce an effect upon the belligerent feelings of the French Directory. The appointment of Washington to the chief command of the American armies had filled the boastful leaders in France with alarm; and the wily Talleyrand, with a sagacity possessed by few of his compeers, had already turned his thoughts toward reconciliation, and made indirect exertions to induce the United States to offer amicable overtures. He at length wrote to the French secretary of legation at the Hague, intimating that any minister plenipotentiary which the American government might be pleased to send to France, to negotiate for the settlement of existing difficulties between the two countries, would undoubtedly be received with all due respect. A copy of this letter was immediately communicated by the secretary to William Vans Murray, the United States minister at the Hague, who transmitted it to his government.

Mr. Murray's despatch gave President Adams much joy. He had been greatly perplexed by the belligerent attitude assumed by the United States and France toward each other. He now perceived an open door of escape from the whole difficulty; and, apparently without considering the impropriety, under the circumstances, of making any overtures to the French republic, he laid the whole matter before the senate on the eighteenth of February, at the same time nominating Mr. Murray to be minister plenipotentiary to that republic. The president pledged himself that Mr. Murray should not enter France without having first received direct and unequivocal assurances from Talleyrand that he should be received as full minister, and be treated with by an officer of equal grade.

This nomination took the country by surprise. Much as Washington desired peace, he was unwilling to obtain it by a sacrifice of national dignity. To Timothy Pickering he wrote on the third of March, saying: “The unexpectedness of the event communicated in your letter of the twenty-first ultimo did, as you may suppose, surprise me not a little. But far, very far indeed, was this surprise short of what I experienced the next day, when, by a very intelligent gentleman, immediately from Philadelphia, I was informed that there had been no direct overture from the government of France to that of the United States for a negotiation; on the contrary, that M. Talleyrand was playing the same loose and round-about game he had attempted the year before with our envoys, and which, as in that case, might mean anything or nothing, as would subserve his purposes best.

“Had we approached the ante-chamber of this gentleman when he opened the door to us,” he continued, “and there waited for a formal invitation into the interior, the governments would have met upon equal ground, and we might have advanced or receded according to circumstances, without commitment. In plain words, had we said to M. Talleyrand, through the channel of his communication, 'We still are, as we always have been, ready to settle by fair negotiation all differences between the two nations upon open, just, and honorable terms, and it rests with the Directory (after the indignities with which our attempts to effect this have been treated), if they are equally sincere, to come forward in an unequivocal manner, and prove it by their acts'—such conduct would have shown a dignified willingness on our part to negotiate, and would have proved their sincerity on the other. Under my present view of the subject, this would have been the course I should have pursued, keeping equally in view the horrors of war and the dignity of the government.”

The disposition throughout the country to avoid war if possible, had great influence upon the president and the senate; but, before the latter made a decision on the nomination of Mr. Murray, the whole subject was seriously considered. It was finally concluded to associate two others with Murray. The president accordingly nominated Oliver Wolcott and Patrick Henry. These nominations were immediately confirmed by the unanimous vote of the senate. The latter gentleman declined the commission, on account of his advanced age and increasing debilities, but with the assurance that “nothing short of absolute necessity” could induce him to withhold what little aid he could give “an administration whose abilities, patriotism, and virtue, deserved the gratitude and reverence of all their fellow citizens.” Governor William R. Davie, of North Carolina, was appointed in Henry's place; and Mr. Murray, still at the Hague, was instructed to apprize Talleyrand of the appointments, but to inform him that the envoys would not embark until the Directory should give assurances that they would be received with courtesy due to their rank, and treated with on terms of perfect equality. He was also instructed not to have any further informal communications with agents of the French republic.

It was October before the president received assurances of the proper reception of the envoys, and they did not leave for France until November. Meanwhile, although war between the two nations had not been formally declared, it actually existed upon the ocean. Hostile collisions had taken place between vessels belonging to the two governments; and upward of three hundred private American vessels had been armed for self-defence.

From the beginning, some of the best friends of Mr. Adams had deprecated the new mission to France. The nominations had been made by the president without consulting his cabinet; and both Pickering, the secretary of state, and M'Henry, the secretary of war, lamented the occurrence, not only because it was undignified, but because it was likely to complicate the already perplexing relations with the French. They remonstrated, but the president refused to listen. Hamilton, Gouverneur Morris, and other supporters of the administration, were equally opposed to the measure, but the president paid little heed to their opinions. This produced a feud between the president and his cabinet, which made Washington uneasy, for the times were too ominous of mischief to the government to make such feud otherwise than perilous in a degree to the commonwealth. “I have, some time past,” wrote Washington to Pickering late in November, just after the departure of the envoys, “viewed the political concerns of the United States with an anxious and painful eye. They appear to me to be moving by hasty strides to a crisis; but in what it will result, that Being, who sees, foresees, and directs all things, alone can tell. The vessel is afloat, or very nearly so, and, considering myself as a passenger only, I shall trust to the mariners (whose duty it is to watch) to steer it into safe port.”

Fortunately for all parties concerned, when the American envoys reached France, a change in the French government had taken place. Napoleon Bonaparte was at the head of the civil and military affairs of the nation, with the title of First Consul. The weak Directory had yielded to the increasing powers of that wonderful man, and his energy and audacity had rescued France from impending anarchy and ruin. He promptly received the United States embassadors; and, several months afterward, he concluded a treaty with them, and gave them such assurances of friendship, that, on their return home, the provisional army was disbanded. The commander-in-chief, meanwhile, had been laid in the grave. Washington did not live to see the clouds break and disperse according to the prophecies of his faith.

We have anticipated events, in order that a glimpse might be given of the conclusion of the difficulties with France. Let us now turn back to the beginning of 1799, and consider Washington personally during that last year of his life. To his family it opened with joy, and closed in sorrow.

At the beginning of the year, there were preparations in progress at Mount Vernon for an event which gave pleasure to Washington—the marriage of Lawrence Lewis, his favorite nephew, with Nelly Custis, his adopted daughter, of whose mutual attachment we have already spoken. At the same time, Washington was much perplexed concerning Nelly's brother George, who was then a youth of eighteen, talented but wayward. He had been in college for a few years, first at Princeton and then at Annapolis; and now, on account of his unwillingness to return to the latter place, he had been for some time pursuing his studies at home, under the eye of his foster father, but with indifferent success. The correspondence between them, for several years, to which allusion has already been made, reveals the anxiety with which Washington watched the development of his foster-son—sometimes hoping, sometimes almost despairing, yet always kind, though firm.[130]

Nelly Custis was married at Mount Vernon on Friday, the twenty-second of February, 1799, Washington's birthday. It was a bright and beautiful day. “The early spring flowers were budding in the hedges, and the blue-bird, making its way cautiously northward, gave a few joyous notes in the garden that morning. The occasion was one of great hilarity at Mount Vernon, for the bride was beloved by all; and Major Lewis, the bridegroom, had ever been near to the heart of his uncle, since the death of his mother, who so much resembled her illustrious brother, that when, in sport, she would place a chapeau on her head, and throw a military cloak over her shoulders, she might easily have been mistaken for the chief.”[131]

It was the wish of Nelly that her foster-father should wear, on that occasion, the splendidly-embroidered uniform which the board of general officers had adopted as the costume of the commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States, but he could not be persuaded to wear a suit bedizened with tinsel. He preferred the plain old continental blue and buff, and the modest, black-ribbon cockade. Magnificent white plumes, which General Pinckney had presented to him, he gave to the bride; and to the Reverend Thomas Davis, rector of Christ church, Alexandria, who performed the marriage ceremony, he presented an elegant copy of Mrs. Macaulay's History of England, in eight octavo volumes, saying, when he handed them to him: “These, sir, were written by a remarkable lady, who visited America many years ago; and here is also her treatise on the Immutability of Moral Truth, which she sent me just before her death. Read it, and return it to me.”

With characteristic modesty, Washington made no allusion to the fact that Mrs. Macaulay (Catharine Macaulay Graham) crossed the Atlantic, in the spring of 1785, for no other purpose, as she avowed, than to see the great leader of the American armies, whom she revered as a second Moses.[132]

During the spring, Washington made preparations for changes and improvements in his estate. He appeared at times to feel that the end of his earthly pilgrimage was near. In a letter written to Mr. M'Henry in March, after alluding to the inconvenience of leaving home, on public business, on account of the demands upon his attention by his private affairs, he said: “This is not all, nor the worst; for, being the executor, the administrator, and trustee, for others' estates, my greatest anxiety is to leave all these concerns in such a clear and distinct form, that no reproach may attach itself to me when I shall have taken my departure for the land of spirits.”

In April, he surveyed with his own hands, and made a chart of some lands belonging to him near Alexandria, which he bequeathed to the late Mr. Custis. “To complete this,” he wrote, “employed nearly three days.”[133]

In July, he wrote and executed his last will and testament. It was written entirely by himself; and at the bottom of each page of the manuscript he signed his name in full—George Washington.[134]

In September, Lawrence Lewis, who, with his wife, was still residing at Mount Vernon, applied to Washington for a portion of his estate. Lewis was then on a visit with his friends at Fredericksburg, and Washington wrote to him as follows:—

“Mount Vernon, 20th September, 1799.

“Dear Sir: From the moment Mrs. Washington and myself adopted the two youngest children of the late Mr. Custis, it became my intention (if they survived me, and conducted themselves to my satisfaction) to consider them in my will when I was about to make a distribution of my property. This determination has undergone no diminution, but is strengthened by the connection one of them has formed with my family.

“The expense at which I live, and the unproductiveness of my estate, will not allow me to lessen my income while I remain in my present situation. On the contrary, were it not for occasional supplies of money in payment for lands sold within the last four or five years, to the amount of upward of fifty thousand dollars, I should not be able to support the former without involving myself in debt and difficulties.

“But as it has been understood, from expressions occasionally dropped from Nelly Custis, now your wife, that it is the wish of you both to settle in this neighborhood, contiguous to her friends, and as it would be inexpedient as well as expensive for you to make a purchase of land, when a measure which is in contemplation would place you on more eligible ground, I shall inform you that, in the will which I have made, which I have by me, and have no disposition to alter, that the part of my Mount Vernon tract which lies north of the public road leading from the Gum spring to Colchester, containing about two thousand acres, with the Dogue-river farm, mill, and distillery, I have left you. Gray's heights is bequeathed to you and her jointly, if you incline to build on it; and few better sites for a house than Gray's hill and that range, are to be found in this country or elsewhere.

“You may also have what is properly Dogue-run farm, the mill, and distillery, on a just and equitable rent; as also the lands belonging thereto, on a reasonable hire, either next year, or the year following—it being necessary, in my opinion, that a young man should have objects of employment. Idleness is disreputable under any circumstances; productive of no good, even when unaccompanied by vicious habits; and you might commence building as soon as you please, during the progress of which Mount Vernon might be made your home.

“You may conceive that building before you have an absolute title to the land is hazardous. To obviate this, I shall only remark that it is not likely any occurrence will happen, or any change take place, that would alter my present intention (if the conduct of yourself and wife is such as to merit a continuance of it); but be this as it may, that you may proceed on sure ground with respect to the buildings, I will agree—and this letter shall be an evidence of it—that if hereafter I should find cause to make any other disposition of the property here mentioned, I will pay the actual cost of such buildings to you or yours.

“Although I have not the most distant idea that any event will happen that could effect a change in my present determination, nor any suspicions that you or Nelly could conduct yourselves in such a manner as to incur my serious displeasure, yet, at the same time that I am inclined to do justice to others, it behooves me to take care of myself, by keeping the staff in my own hands.

“That you may have a more perfect idea of the landed property I have bequeathed to you and Nelly in my will, I transmit a plan of it, every part of which is correctly laid down and accurately measured, showing the number of fields, lots, meadows, &c., with the contents and relative situation of each; all of which, except the mill and swamp, which has never been considered as a part of Dogue-run farm, and is retained merely for the purpose of putting it into a better state of improvement, you may have on the terms before-mentioned.

“With every kind wish for you and Nelly, in which your aunt, who is still much indisposed, unites,

“I remain your affectionate uncle,

“Geo. Washington.”

Little did any of the parties concerned then suppose that in less than three months the hand that penned this letter would be paralyzed by death; and that the Will, so lately written by that hand, would so soon call for executors.

During the autumn, Washington digested a complete system of management for his estate for several succeeding years, in which were tables designating the rotation of crops. The document occupied thirty folio pages, all written in his clear and peculiar style. It was completed only four days before his death, and was accompanied by a letter to James Anderson, the manager of his farms, dated on the same day (December 10th), in which he gave him some special directions, as if the master was about to depart on a journey. This appears the more singular, as Washington expected to reside at home, and exercise a personal supervision of the whole. In his letter to Anderson, Washington remarked:—

“Economy in all things is as commendable in the manager as it is beneficial and desirable to the employer; and, on a farm, it shows itself in nothing more evidently or more essentially than in not suffering any provender to be wasted, but, on the contrary, in taking care that every atom of it be used to the best advantage; and likewise in not permitting the ploughs, harness, and other implements of husbandry, and the gears belonging to them, to be unnecessarily exposed, trodden under foot, run over by carts, and abused in other respects. More good is derived from attending to the minutiæ of a farm than strikes people at first view; and examining the farmyard fences, and looking into the fields to see that nothing is there but what is allowed to be there, is oftentimes the means of producing more good, or at least of avoiding more evil, than can be accomplished by riding from one working-party or overseer to another. I have mentioned these things, not only because they have occurred to me, but because, although apparently trifles, they prove far otherwise in the result.”

During the year, Washington had conducted the preparations of the provisional army for the field almost wholly through the medium of letters. These were numerous and sometimes voluminous, and exhibit his constant watchfulness and care. One of his later letters to the secretary of war was in reference to a plan of Hamilton's for hutting the troops then in the field; and the last letter which, it is believed, he ever wrote—having been penned on the day when he was attacked by fatal disease—was to General Hamilton, on a topic of public interest. Hamilton had communicated to the secretary of war his views concerning the establishment of a military academy. A copy of this paper he transmitted to the commander-in-chief, with a request that he would give it his consideration. To this Washington replied:—

“The establishment of an institution of this kind, upon a respectable and extensive basis, has ever been considered by me as an object of primary importance to this country; and, while I was in the chair of government, I omitted no proper opportunity of recommending it, in my public speeches and otherwise, to the attention of the legislature. But I never undertook to go into a detail of the organization of such an academy; leaving this task to others, whose pursuit in the path of science, and attention to the arrangement of such institutions, had better qualified them for the execution of it. For the same reason, I must now decline making any observations on the details of your plan; and, as it has already been submitted to the secretary of war, through whom it will naturally be laid before Congress, it might be too late for alterations, if any should be suggested. I sincerely hope that the subject will meet with due attention, and that the reasons for its establishment, which you have so clearly pointed out in your letter to the secretary, will prevail upon the legislature to place it upon a permanent and respectable footing.”

FOOTNOTES:

[130] The young man alluded to was the late George Washington Parke Custis, of Arlington House, Virginia, who lived to become the last surviving executor of Washington's will, and who died at his seat, on the tenth of October, 1857, when in the seventy-seventh year of his age. Mr. Custis prepared for the press a series of articles concerning the public and private life of his foster-father, which the present writer arranged, annotated, and published, under the title of “Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington, by his Adopted Son.” In that work is given a series of letters, composing portions of a correspondence between Washington and young Custis, during the period when the latter was in college, first at Princeton, in New Jersey, and then at Annapolis, in Maryland. From Washington's letters the following extracts have been taken, to show the parental solicitude which he felt for this talented but somewhat wayward boy, who was the idol of his grandmother, Mrs. Washington:—

“Philadelphia, 15th November, 1796.

“Dear Washington: Yesterday's mail brought me your letter of the twelfth instant, and under cover of this letter you will receive a ten dollar bill, to purchase a gown, &c., if proper. But as the classes may be distinguished by a different insignia, I advise you not to provide these without first obtaining the approbation of your tutors; otherwise you may be distinguished more by folly than by the dress.

“It affords me pleasure to hear that you are agreeably fixed; and I receive still more from the assurance you give of attending closely to your studies. It is you yourself who is to derive immediate benefit from these. Your country may do it hereafter. The more knowledge you acquire, the greater will be the probability of your succeeding in both, and the greater will be your thirst for more.

“I rejoice to hear you went through your examination with propriety, and have no doubt but that the president has placed you in the class which he conceived best adapted to the present state of your improvement. The more there are above you, the greater your exertions should be to ascend; but let your promotion result from your own application, and from intrinsic merit, not from the labors of others. The last would prove fallacious, and expose you to the reproach of the daw in borrowed feathers. This would be inexcusable in you, because there is no occasion for it, forasmuch as you need nothing but the exertion of the talents you possess, with proper directions, to acquire all that is necessary; and the hours allotted for study, if properly improved, will enable you to do this. Although the confinement may feel irksome at first, the advantages resulting from it, to a reflecting mind, will soon overcome it.

“Endeavor to conciliate the good will of all your fellow-students, rendering them every act of kindness in your power. Be particularly obliging and attentive to your chamber-mate, Mr. Forsyth; who, from the account I have of him, is an admirable young man, and strongly impressed with the importance of a liberal and finished education. But, above all, be obedient to your tutors, and in a particular manner respect the president of the seminary, who is both learned and good.

“For any particular advantages you may derive from the attention and aid of Mr. Forsyth, I shall have a disposition to reward. One thing more, and I will close this letter. Never let an indigent person ask, without receiving something, if you have the means; always recollecting in what light the widow's mite was viewed.”

“Philadelphia, Nov. 28, 1796.

“The assurances you give me of applying diligently to your studies, and fulfilling those obligations which are enjoined by your Creator and due to his creatures, are highly pleasing and satisfactory to me. I rejoice in it on two accounts: first, as it is the sure means of laying the foundation of your own happiness, and rendering you, if it should please God to spare your life, a useful member of society hereafter: and, secondly, that I may, if I live to enjoy the pleasure, reflect that I have been, in some degree, instrumental in effecting these purposes.

“You are now extending into that stage of life when good or bad habits are formed; when the mind will be turned to things useful and praiseworthy, or to dissipation and vice. Fix on whichever it may, it will stick by you; for you know it has been said, and truly, that 'as the twig is bent so it will grow.' This, in a strong point of view, shows the propriety of letting your inexperience be directed by maturer advice, and in placing guard upon the avenues which lead to idleness and vice. The latter will approach like a thief, working upon your passions—encouraged, perhaps, by bad examples—the propensity to which will increase in proportion to the practice of it, and your yielding. This admonition proceeds from the purest affection for you; but I do not mean by it that you are to become a stoic, or to deprive yourself, in the intervals of study, of any recreations or manly exercise which reason approves.

“'Tis well to be on good terms with all your fellow-students, and I am pleased to hear you are so; but while a courteous behavior is due to all, select the most deserving only for your friendships, and, before this becomes intimate, weigh their dispositions and character well. True friendship is a plant of slow growth; to be sincere, there must be a congeniality of temper and pursuits. Virtue and vice can not be allied; nor can idleness and industry. Of course, if you resolve to adhere to the two former of these extremes, an intimacy with those who incline to the latter of them would be extremely embarrassing to you: it would be a stumbling-block in your way, and act like a millstone hung to your neck, for it is the nature of idleness and vice to obtain as many votaries as they can.

“I would guard you, too, against imbibing hasty and unfavorable impressions of any one. Let your judgment always balance well before you decide; and even then, where there is no occasion for expressing an opinion, it is best to be silent, for there is nothing more certain than that it is at all times more easy to make enemies than friends. And besides, to speak evil of any one, unless there are unequivocal proofs of their deserving it, is an injury for which there is no adequate reparation. For, as Shakespeare says, 'He that robs me of my good name enriches not himself, but renders me poor indeed,' or words to that effect. Keep in mind that scarcely any change would be agreeable to you at first, from the sudden transition, and from never having been accustomed to shift or rough it; and, moreover, that if you meet with collegiate fare, it will be unmanly to complain. My paper reminds me it is time to conclude.”

“Mount Vernon, 4th June, 1797.

“Your letter of the twenty-ninth ultimo came to hand by the post of Friday, and eased my mind of many unpleasant sensations and reflections on your account. It has, indeed, done more—it has filled it with pleasure more easy to be conceived than expressed; and if your sorrow and repentance for the disquietude occasioned by the preceding letter—your resolution to abandon the ideas which were therein expressed—are sincere, I shall not only heartily forgive, but will forget also, and bury in oblivion all that has passed....

“You must not suffer the resolution you have recently entered into, to operate as the mere result of a momentary impulse, occasioned by the letters you have received from hence. This resolution should be founded on sober reflection, and a thorough conviction of your error; otherwise it will be as wavering as the wind, and become the sport of conflicting passions, which will occasion such a lassitude in your exertions as to render your studies of little avail. To insure permanency, think seriously of the advantages which are to be derived, on the one hand, from the steady pursuit of a course of study to be marked out by your preceptor, whose judgment, experience, and acknowledged abilities, enables him to direct them; and, on the other hand, revolve as seriously on the consequences which would inevitably result from an indisposition to this measure, or from an idle habit of hankering after unprofitable amusements at your time of life, before you have acquired that knowledge which would be found beneficial in every situation—I say before, because it is not my wish that, having gone through the essentials, you should be deprived of any rational amusement afterward; or, lastly, from dissipation in such company as you would most likely meet under such circumstances, who but too often mistake ribaldry for wit, and rioting, swearing, intoxication, and gambling, for manliness.”

Young Custis was placed in the college at Annapolis in the spring of 1798, when Washington wrote to Mr. M'Dowell, the president, as follows:—

“Mr. Custis possesses competent talents to fit him for any studies, but they are counteracted by an indolence of mind which renders it difficult to draw them into action. Doctor Stuart having been an attentive observer of this, I shall refer you to him for the development of the causes, while justice from me requires I should add, that I know of no vice to which this inertness can be attributed. From drinking and gaming he is perfectly free; and if he has a propensity to any other impropriety, it is hidden from me. He is generous, and regardful of truth.

“As his family, fortune, and talents (if the latter can be improved), give him just pretensions to become a useful member of society in the councils of his country, his friends, and none more than myself, are extremely desirous that his education should be liberal, polished, and suitable for this end.”

Young Custis did not remain long at Annapolis. He was now eighteen years of age, and his mind was filled with visions of military glory. He received the appointment of cornet of horse, early in January, 1799, and was soon afterward promoted to the position of aid-de-camp to General Pinckney. As the army was not called to the field, he remained at Mount Vernon, awaiting orders. Meanwhile, Washington endeavored to keep him engaged in his studies, but with little success, as appears by the following extract from a letter to Doctor Stuart, young Custis's stepfather, written on the twenty-second of January, 1799, soon after the cornet received his appointment:—

“Dear Sir: Washington leaves this to-day on a visit to Hope Park, which will afford you an opportunity to examine the progress he has made in the studies he was directed to pursue.

“I can, and I believe I do, keep him in his room a certain portion of the twenty-four hours, but it will be impossible for me to make him attend to his books if inclination on his part is wanting; nor, while I am out, if he chooses to be so, is it in my power to prevent it. I will not say this is the case, nor will I run the hazard of doing him injustice, by saying he does not apply as he ought to what has been prescribed; but no risk will be run, and candor requires I should declare it as my opinion that he will not derive much benefit in any course which can be marked out for him at this place, without an able preceptor always with him. I believe Washington means well, but has not resolution to act well.”

For the entire correspondence alluded to, and a vast amount of information concerning the private life of Washington, the reader is referred to Custis's Recollections and Private Memoirs of the Father of his Country.

[131] Lossing's Mount Vernon and its Associations, page 313.

[132] Ib., page 314.

[133] The original chart of this survey, made by Washington's own hand, is preserved by the daughter of Mr. Custis (Mrs. Colonel Robert E. Lee), at Arlington House. A facsimile of it is published in Custis's Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington.

[134] The following is a true copy of Washington's will:—

In the name of God, amen. I, George Washington, of Mount Vernon, a citizen of the United States, and lately President of the same, do make, ordain, and declare this instrument, which is written with my own hand, and every page thereof subscribed with my name, to be my last Will and Testament, revoking all others.

Imprimis.—All my debts, of which there are but few, and none of magnitude, are to be punctually and speedily paid; and the legacies, hereinafter bequeathed, are to be discharged as soon as circumstances will permit, and in the manner directed.

Item.—To my dearly beloved wife, Martha Washington, I give and bequeath the use, profit, and benefit of my whole estate, real and personal, for the term of her natural life, except such parts thereof as are specially disposed of hereafter. My improved lot in the town of Alexandria, situated on Pitt and Cameron streets, I give to her and her heirs for ever; as I also do my household and kitchen furniture of every sort and kind, with the liquors and groceries which may be on hand at the time of my decease, to be used and disposed of as she may think proper.

Item.—Upon the decease of my wife, it is my will and desire that all the slaves whom I hold in my own right shall receive their freedom. To emancipate them during her life would, though earnestly wished by me, be attended with such insuperable difficulties, on account of their intermixture by marriage with the dower-negroes, as to excite the most painful sensations, if not disagreeable consequences, to the latter, while both descriptions are in the occupancy of the same proprietor; it not being in my power, under the tenure by which the dower-negroes are held, to manumit them.[137] And whereas, among those who will receive freedom according to this devise, there may be some who, from old age or bodily infirmities, and others who, on account of their infancy, will be unable to support themselves, it is my will and desire that all, who come under the first and second description, shall be comfortably clothed and fed by my heirs while they live; and that such of the latter description as have no parents living, or, if living, are unable or unwilling to provide for them, shall be bound by the court until they shall arrive at the age of twenty-five years; and, in cases where no record can be produced, whereby their ages can be ascertained, the judgment of the court, upon its own view of the subject, shall be adequate and final. The negroes thus bound are (by their masters or mistresses) to be taught to read and write, and to be brought up to some useful occupation, agreeably to the laws of the Commonwealth of Virginia, providing for the support of orphan and other poor children. And I do hereby expressly forbid the sale or transportation out of the said Commonwealth, of any slave I may die possessed of, under any pretence whatsoever. And I do, moreover, most pointedly and most solemnly enjoin it upon my executors hereafter named, or the survivors of them, to see that this clause respecting slaves, and every part thereof, be religiously fulfilled at the epoch at which it is directed to take place, without evasion, neglect, or delay, after the crops which may then be on the ground are harvested, particularly as it respects the aged and infirm; seeing that a regular and permanent fund be established for their support, as long as there are subjects requiring it; not trusting to the uncertain provision to be made by individuals. And to my mulatto man, William, calling himself William Lee, I give immediate freedom, or, if he should prefer it (on account of the accidents which have befallen him, and which have rendered him incapable of walking, or of any active employment), to remain in the situation he now is, it shall be optional in him to do so; in either case, however, I allow him an annuity of thirty dollars, during his natural life, which shall be independent of the victuals and clothes he has been accustomed to receive, if he chooses the last alternative; but in full with his freedom, if he prefers the first; and this I give him, as a testimony of my sense of his attachment to me, and for his faithful services during the Revolutionary War.

Item.—To the trustees (governors, or by whatsoever other name they may be designated) of the Academy in the town of Alexandria, I give and bequeath, in trust, four thousand dollars, or, in other words, twenty of the shares which I hold in the Bank of Alexandria, toward the support of a free school, established at, and annexed to, the said Academy, for the purpose of educating such orphan children, or the children of such other poor and indigent persons, as are unable to accomplish it with their own means, and who, in the judgment of the trustees of the said seminary, are best entitled to the benefit of this donation. The aforesaid twenty shares I give and bequeath in perpetuity; the dividends only of which are to be drawn for and applied, by the said trustees for the time being, for the uses above mentioned; the stock to remain entire and untouched, unless indications of failure of the said bank should be so apparent, or a discontinuance thereof, should render a removal of this fund necessary. In either of these cases, the amount of the stock here devised is to be vested in some other bank, or public institution, whereby the interest may with regularity and certainty be drawn and applied as above. And to prevent misconception, my meaning is, and is hereby declared to be, that these twenty shares are in lieu of, and not in addition to, the thousand pounds given by a missive letter some years ago, in consequence whereof an annuity of fifty pounds has since been paid toward the support of this institution.

Item.—Whereas, by a law of the Commonwealth of Virginia, enacted in the year 1785, the Legislature thereof was pleased, as an evidence of its approbation of the services I had rendered the public during the Revolution, and partly, I believe, in consideration of my having suggested the vast advantages which the community would derive from the extension of its inland navigation under legislative patronage, to present me with one hundred shares, of one hundred dollars each, in the incorporated Company, established for the purpose of extending the navigation of James River from the tide-water to the mountains; and also with fifty shares, of £100 sterling each, in the corporation of another Company, likewise established for the similar purpose of opening the navigation of the River Potomac from the tide-water to Fort Cumberland; the acceptance of which, although the offer was highly honorable and grateful to my feelings, was refused, as inconsistent with a principle which I had adopted, and had never departed from, viz., not to receive pecuniary compensation for any services I could render my country in its arduous struggle with Great Britain for its rights, and because I had evaded similar propositions from other States in the Union; adding to this refusal, however, an intimation that, if it should be the pleasure of the Legislature to permit me to appropriate the said shares to public uses, I would receive them on those terms with due sensibility; and this it having consented to, in flattering terms, as will appear by a subsequent law, and sundry resolutions, in the most ample and honorable manner;—I proceed after this recital, for the more correct understanding of the case, to declare; that, as it has always been a source of serious regret with me, to see the youth of these United States sent to foreign countries for the purpose of education, often before their minds were formed, or they had imbibed any adequate ideas of the happiness of their own; contracting too frequently, not only habits of dissipation and extravagance, but principles unfriendly to republican government, and to the true and genuine liberties of mankind, which thereafter are rarely overcome; for these reasons it has been my ardent wish to see a plan devised, on a liberal scale, which would have a tendency to spread systematic ideas through all parts of this rising empire, thereby to do away local attachments and State prejudices, as far as the nature of things would, or indeed ought to admit, from our national councils. Looking anxiously forward to the accomplishment of so desirable an object as this is (in my estimation), my mind has not been able to contemplate any plan more likely to effect the measure, than the establishment of a University in a central part of the United States, to which the youths of fortune and talents from all parts thereof may be sent for the completion of their education, in all the branches of polite literature, in arts and sciences, in acquiring knowledge in the principles of politics and good government, and, as a matter of infinite importance in my judgment, by associating with each other, and forming friendships in juvenile years, be enabled to free themselves in a proper degree from those local prejudices and habitual jealousies which have just been mentioned, and which, when carried to excess, are never-failing sources of disquietude to the public mind, and pregnant of mischievous consequences to this country. Under these impressions, so fully dilated—

Item.—I give and bequeath, in perpetuity, the fifty shares which I hold in the Potomac company (under the aforesaid acts of the Legislature of Virginia), toward the endowment of a University, to be established within the limits of the District of Columbia, under the auspices of the general government, if that government should incline to extend a fostering hand toward it; and, until such seminary is established, and the funds arising on these shares shall be required for its support, my further will and desire is, that the profit accruing therefrom shall, whenever the dividends are made, be laid out in purchasing stock in the Bank of Columbia, or some other bank, at the discretion of my executors, or by the Treasurer of the United States for the time being, under the direction of Congress, provided that honorable body should patronize the measure; and the dividends proceeding from the purchase of such stock are to be vested in more stock, and so on, until a sum adequate to the accomplishment of the object is obtained; of which I have not the smallest doubt before many years pass away, even if no aid or encouragement is given by the legislative authority, or from any other source.

Item.—The hundred shares, which I hold in the James River Company, I have given, and now confirm in perpetuity, to and for the use and benefit of Liberty Hall Academy, in the County of Rockbridge, in the Commonwealth of Virginia.

Item.—I release, exonerate, and discharge the estate of my deceased brother, Samuel Washington, from the payment of the money which is due to me for the land I sold to Philip Pendleton (lying in the county of Berkeley), who assigned the same to him, the said Samuel, who by agreement was to pay me therefor. And whereas, by some contract (the purport of which was never communicated to me) between the said Samuel and his son, Thornton Washington, the latter became possessed of the aforesaid land, without any conveyance having passed from me, either to the said Pendleton, the said Samuel, or the said Thornton, and without any consideration having been made, by which neglect neither the legal nor equitable title has been alienated; it rests therefore with me to declare my intentions concerning the premises; and these are, to give and bequeath the said land to whomsoever the said Thornton Washington (who is also dead) devised the same, or to his heirs for ever, if he died intestate; exonerating the estate of the said Thornton, equally with that of the said Samuel, from payment of the purchase money, which, with interest, agreeably to the original contract with the said Pendleton, would amount to more than a thousand pounds. And whereas two other sons of my said deceased brother Samuel, namely, George Steptoe Washington and Lawrence Augustine Washington, were, by the decease of those to whose care they were committed, brought under my protection, and, in consequence, have occasioned advances on my part, for their education at college and other schools, for their board, clothing, and other incidental expenses, to the amount of near five thousand dollars, over and above the sums furnished by their estate, which sum it may be inconvenient for them or their father's estate to refund; I do for these reasons acquit them and the said estate from the payment thereof, my intention being, that all accounts between them and me, and their father's estate and me, shall stand balanced.

Item.—The balance due to me from the estate of Bartholomew Dandridge, deceased (my wife's brother), and which amounted on the first day of October, 1795, to four hundred and twenty-five pounds (as will appear by an account rendered by his deceased son, John Dandridge, who was the acting executor of his father's will), I release and acquit from the payment thereof. And the negroes, then thirty-three in number, formerly belonging to the said estate, who were taken in execution, sold, and purchased in on my account, in the year (blank), and ever since have remained in the possession and to the use of Mary, widow of the said Bartholomew Dandridge, with their increase, it is my will and desire shall continue and be in her possession, without paying hire, or making compensation for the same for the time past, or to come, during her natural life; at the expiration of which, I direct that all of them who are forty years old and upward shall receive their freedom; and all under that age, and above sixteen, shall serve seven years and no longer; and all under sixteen years shall serve until they are twenty-five years of age, and then be free. And, to avoid disputes respecting the ages of any of these negroes, they are to be taken into the court of the county in which they reside, and the judgment thereof, in this relation, shall be final, and record thereof made, which may be adduced as evidence at any time thereafter, if disputes should arise concerning the same. And I further direct, that the heirs of the said Bartholomew Dandridge shall equally share the benefits arising from the services of the said negroes, according to the tenor of this devise, upon the decease of their mother.

Item.—If Charles Carter, who intermarried with my niece, Betty Lewis, is not sufficiently secured in the title to the lots he had of me in the town of Fredericksburg, it is my will and desire, that my executors shall make such conveyances of them as the law requires to render it perfect.

Item.—To my nephew, William Augustine Washington, and his heirs (if he should conceive them to be objects worth prosecuting), a lot in the town of Manchester (opposite to Richmond), No. 265, drawn on my sole account, and also the tenth of one or two hundred-acre lots, and two of three half-acre lots, in the city and vicinity of Richmond, drawn in partnership with nine others, all in the lottery of the deceased William Byrd, are given; as is also a lot which I purchased of John Hood, conveyed by William Willie and Samuel Gordon, trustees of the said John Hood, numbered 139, in the town of Edinburgh, in the County of Prince George, State of Virginia.

Item.—To my nephew, Bushrod Washington,[136] I give and bequeath all the papers in my possession, which relate to my civil and military administration of the affairs of this country. I leave to him also such of my private papers as are worth preserving; and at the decease of my wife, and before, if she is not inclined to retain them, I give and bequeath my library of books and pamphlets of every kind.

Item.—Having sold lands which I possessed in the State of Pennsylvania, and part of a tract held in equal right with George Clinton, late governor of New York, in the State of New York, my share of land and interest in the Great Dismal Swamp, and a tract of land which I owned in the County of Gloucester,—withholding the legal titles thereto, until the consideration money should be paid,—and having moreover leased and conditionally sold (as will appear by the tenor of the said leases) all my lands upon the Great Kenhawa, and a tract upon Difficult Run, in the County of Loudoun, it is my will and direction, that whensoever the contracts are fully and respectively complied with, according to the spirit, true intent, and meaning thereof, on the part of the purchasers, their heirs or assigns, that then, and in that case, conveyances are to be made, agreeably to the terms of the said contracts, and the money arising therefrom, when paid, to be vested in bank stock; the dividends whereof, as of that also which is already vested therein, are to inure to my said wife during her life; but the stock itself is to remain and be subject to the general distribution hereafter directed.

Item.—To the Earl of Buchan I recommit the “Box made of the Oak that sheltered the great Sir William Wallace, after the battle of Falkirk,” presented to me by his Lordship, in terms too flattering for me to repeat, with a request “to pass it, on the event of my decease, to the man in my country, who should appear to merit it best, upon the same conditions that have induced him to send it to me.” Whether easy or not to select the man, who might comport with his Lordship's opinion in this respect, is not for me to say; but, conceiving that no disposition of this valuable curiosity can be more eligible than the recommitment of it to his own cabinet, agreeably to the original design of the Goldsmiths' Company of Edinburgh, who presented it to him, and, at his request, consented that it should be transferred to me, I do give and bequeath the same to his Lordship; and, in case of his decease, to his heir, with my grateful thanks for the distinguished honor of presenting it to me, and more especially for the favorable sentiments with which he accompanied it.

Item.—To my brother, Charles Washington, I give and bequeath the gold-headed cane left me by Dr. Franklin in his will. I add nothing to it, because of the ample provision I have made for his issue. To the acquaintances and friends of my juvenile years, Lawrence Washington and Robert Washington, of Chotanck, I give my other two gold-headed canes, having my arms engraved on them; and to each, as they will be useful where they live, I leave one of the spyglasses, which constituted part of my equipage during the late war. To my compatriot in arms, and old and intimate friend, Dr. Craik, I give my bureau (or, as the cabinet-makers call it, tambour secretary) and the circular chair, an appendage of my study. To Dr. David Stuart I give my large shaving and dressing table, and my telescope. To the Reverend, now Bryan, Lord Fairfax, I give a Bible, in three large folio volumes, with notes, presented to me by the Right Reverend Thomas Wilson, Bishop of Sodor and Man. To General de Lafayette I give a pair of finely-wrought steel pistols, taken from the enemy in the revolutionary war. To my sisters-in-law, Hannah Washington and Mildred Washington, to my friends, Eleanor Stuart, Hannah Washington, of Fairfield, and Elizabeth Washington, of Hayfield, I give each a mourning ring, of the value of one hundred dollars. These bequests are not made for the intrinsic value of them, but as mementoes of my esteem and regard. To Tobias Lear I give the use of the farm, which he now holds in virtue of a lease from me to him and his deceased wife (for and during their natural lives), free from rent during his life; at the expiration of which, it is to be disposed of as is hereinafter directed. To Sally B. Haynie (a distant relation of mine) I give and bequeath three hundred dollars. To Sarah Green, daughter of the deceased Thomas Bishop, and to Ann Walker, daughter of John Alton, also deceased, I give each one hundred dollars, in consideration of the attachment of their fathers to me; each of whom having lived nearly forty years in my family. To each of my nephews, William Augustine Washington, George Lewis, George Steptoe Washington, Bushrod Washington, and Samuel Washington, I give one of the swords, or couteaux, of which I may die possessed; and they are to choose in the order they are named. These swords are accompanied with an injunction not to unsheathe them for the purpose of shedding blood, except it be for self-defence, or in defence of their country and its rights: and, in the latter case, to keep them unsheathed, and prefer falling with them in their hands to the relinquishment thereof.

And now, having gone through these specific devises, with explanations for the more correct understanding of the meaning and design of them, I proceed to the distribution of the more important parts of my estate, in manner following;

First.—To my nephew, Bushrod Washington, and his heirs (partly in consideration of an intimation to his deceased father, while we were bachelors, and he had kindly undertaken to superintend my estate during my military services in the former war between Great Britain and France, that, if I should fall therein, Mount Vernon, then less extensive in domain than at present, should become his property), I give and bequeath all that part thereof, which is comprehended within the following limits, viz. Beginning at the ford of Dogue Run, near my Mill, and extending along the road, and bounded thereby, as it now goes, and ever has gone, since my recollection of it, to the ford of Little Hunting Creek, at the Gum Spring, until it comes to a knoll opposite to an old road, which formerly passed through the lower field of Muddy-Hole Farm; at which, on the north side of the said road, are three red or Spanish oaks, marked as a corner, and a stone placed; thence by a line of trees, to be marked rectangular, to the back line or outer boundary of the tract between Thompson Mason and myself: thence with that line easterly (now double ditching, with a post-and-rail fence thereon) to the run of Little Hunting Creek; thence with that run, which is the boundary between the lands of the late Humphrey Peake and me, to the tide water of the said creek; thence by that water to Potomac River; thence with the river to the mouth of Dogue Creek; and thence with the said Dogue Creek to the place of beginning at the aforesaid ford; containing upwards of four thousand acres, be the same more or less, together with the mansion-house, and all other buildings and improvements thereon.

Second.—In consideration of the consanguinity between them and my wife, being as nearly related to her as to myself, as on account of the affection I had for, and the obligation I was under to, their father when living, who from his youth had attached himself to my person, and followed my fortunes through the vicissitudes of the late Revolution, afterwards devoting his time to the superintendence of my private concerns for many years, whilst my public employments rendered it impracticable for me to do it myself, thereby affording me essential services, and always performing them in a manner the most filial and respectful; for these reasons, I say, I give and bequeath to George Fayette Washington and Lawrence Augustine Washington, and their heirs, my estate east of Little Hunting Creek, lying on the River Potomac, including the farm of three hundred and sixty acres, leased to Tobias Lear, as noticed before, and containing in the whole, by deed, two thousand and twenty-seven acres, be it more or less; which said estate it is my will and desire should be equitably and advantageously divided between them, according to quantity, quality, and other circumstances, when the youngest shall have arrived at the age of twenty-one years, by three judicious and disinterested men; one to be chosen by each of the brothers, and the third by these two. In the mean time, if the termination of my wife's interest therein should have ceased, the profits arising therefrom are to be applied for their joint uses and benefit.

Third.—And whereas it has always been my intention, since my expectation of having issue has ceased, to consider the grandchildren of my wife in the same light as I do my own relations, and to act a friendly part by them; more especially by the two whom we have raised from their earliest infancy, namely, Eleanor Parke Custis and George Washington Parke Custis; and whereas the former of these hath lately intermarried with Lawrence Lewis, a son of my deceased sister, Betty Lewis, by which union the inducement to provide for them both has been increased; wherefore I give and bequeath to the said Lawrence Lewis, and Eleanor Parke Lewis, his wife, and their heirs, the residue of my Mount Vernon estate, not already devised to my nephew, Bushrod Washington, comprehended within the following description, viz. All the land north of the road leading from the ford of Dogue Run to the Gum Spring, as described in the devise of the other part of the tract to Bushrod Washington, until it comes to the stone and three red or Spanish oaks on the knoll; thence with the rectangular line to the back line (between Mr. Mason and me); thence with that line westerly along the new double ditch to Dogue Run, by the tumbling dam of my Mill; thence with the said run to the ford aforementioned. To which I add all the land I possess west of the said Dogue Run and Dogue Creek, bounded easterly and southerly thereby; together with the mill, distillery, and all other houses and improvements on the premises, making together about two thousand acres, be it more or less.

Fourth.—Actuated by the principle already mentioned, I give and bequeath to George Washington Parke Custis, the grandson of my wife, and my ward, and to his heirs, the tract I hold on Four Mile Run, in the vicinity of Alexandria, containing one thousand two hundred acres, more or less, and my entire square, No. 21, in the city of Washington.

Fifth.—All the rest and residue of my estate real and personal, not disposed of in manner aforesaid, in whatsoever consisting, wheresoever lying, and whensoever found (a schedule of which, as far as is recollected, with a reasonable estimate of its value, is hereunto annexed), I desire may be sold by my executors, at such times, in such manner, and on such credits (if an equal, valid, and satisfactory distribution of the specific property cannot be made without), as in their judgment shall be most conducive to the interest of the parties concerned; and the moneys arising therefrom to be divided into twenty-three equal parts, and applied as follows, viz. To William Augustine Washington, Elizabeth Spotswood, Jane Thornton, and the heirs of Ann Ashton, sons and daughters of my deceased brother, Augustine Washington, I give and bequeath four parts; that is, one part to each of them. To Fielding Lewis, George Lewis, Robert Lewis, Howell Lewis, and Betty Carter, sons and daughters of my deceased sister, Betty Lewis, I give and bequeath five other parts; one to each of them. To George Steptoe Washington, Lawrence Augustine Washington, Harriot Parks, and the heirs of Thornton Washington, sons and daughters of my deceased brother Samuel Washington, I give and bequeath other four parts; one to each of them. To Corbin Washington, and the heirs of Jane Washington, son and daughter of my deceased brother, John Augustine Washington, I give and bequeath two parts; one to each of them. To Samuel Washington, Frances Ball, and Mildred Hammond, son and daughters of my brother Charles Washington, I give and bequeath three parts; one part to each of them. And to George Fayette Washington, Charles Augustine Washington, and Maria Washington, sons and daughter of my deceased nephew, George Augustine Washington, I give one other part; that is, to each a third of that part. To Elizabeth Parke Law, Martha Parke Peter, and Eleanor Parke Lewis, I give and bequeath three other parts; that is, a part to each of them. And to my nephews, Bushrod Washington and Lawrence Lewis, and to my ward, the grandson of my wife, I give and bequeath one other part; that is, a third thereof to each of them. And, if it should so happen, that any of the persons whose names are here enumerated (unknown to me) should now be dead, or should die before me, that in either of these cases, the heirs of such deceased person shall, notwithstanding, derive all the benefits of the bequest, in the same manner as if he or she was actually living at the time. And, by way of advice, I recommend it to my executors not to be precipitate in disposing of the landed property (herein directed to be sold), if from temporary causes the sale thereof should be dull; experience having fully evinced, that the price of land, especially above the falls of the river and on the western waters, has been progressively rising, and cannot be long checked in its increasing value. And I particularly recommend it to such of the legatees (under this clause of my will), as can make it convenient, to take each a share of my stock in the Potomac Company, in preference to the amount of what it might sell for; being thoroughly convinced myself, that no uses to which the money can be applied, will be so productive as the tolls arising from this navigation when in full operation (and thus, from the nature of things, it must be, ere long), and more especially if that of the Shenandoah is added thereto.

The family vault at Mount Vernon requiring repairs, and being improperly situated besides, I desire that a new one of brick, and upon a larger scale, may be built at the foot of what is commonly called the Vineyard Enclosure, on the ground which is marked out; in which my remains, with those of my deceased relations (now in the old vault), and such others of my family as may choose to be entombed there, may be deposited. And it is my express desire, that my corpse may be interred in a private manner, without parade or funeral oration.

Lastly, I constitute and appoint my dearly beloved wife, Martha Washington, my nephews, William Augustine Washington, Bushrod Washington, George Steptoe Washington, Samuel Washington, and Lawrence Lewis, and my ward, George Washington Parke Custis (when he shall have arrived at the age of twenty-one years), executrix and executors of this my will and testament; in the construction of which it will be readily perceived, that no professional character has been consulted, or has had any agency in the draft; and that, although it has occupied many of my leisure hours to digest, and to throw it into its present form, it may, notwithstanding, appear crude and incorrect; but, having endeavored to be plain and explicit in all the devises, even at the expense of prolixity, perhaps of tautology, I hope and trust that no disputes will arise concerning them. But if, contrary to expectation, the case should be otherwise, from the want of legal expressions, or the usual technical terms, or because too much or too little has been said on any of the devises to be consonant with law, my will and direction expressly is, that all disputes (if unhappily any should arise) shall be decided by three impartial and intelligent men, known for their probity and good understanding; two to be chosen by the disputants, each having the choice of one, and the third by those two; which three men, thus chosen, shall, unfettered by law or legal constructions, declare their sense of the testator's intention; and such decision is, to all intents and purposes, to be as binding on the parties as if it had been given in the Supreme Court of the United States.

In witness of all and of each of the things herein contained, I have set my hand and seal, this ninth day of July, in the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety,[135] and of the Independence of the United States the twenty-fourth.

George Washington.

SCHEDULE OF PROPERTY

Comprehended in the foregoing Will, which is directed to be sold; and some of it conditionally is sold; with descriptive and Explanatory Notes relative thereto.

| IN VIRGINIA.
| | | Price.
| | Acres. | Dollars. | Dollars.
Loudoun County, Difficult Run, | | 300 | | 6,666 | | a
Loudoun and Fauquier, Ashby's Bent, | | 2481 | 10 | 24,810 | } | b
Chattin's Run, | | 885 | 8 | 7,080 | }
Berkeley, South Fork of Bullskin, | | 1600
Head of Evan's M., | | 453
In Wormeley's Line, | | 183
| | 2236 | 20 | 44,720 | | c
Frederic, bought from Mercer, | | 571 | 20 | 11,420 | | d
Hampshire, on Potomac River, above B., | | 240 | 15 | 3,600 | | e
Gloucester, on North River, | | 400 | about | 3,600 | | f
Nansemond, near Suffolk, one third of 1119 acres, | | 373 | 8 | 2,984 | | g
Great Dismal Swamp, my dividend thereof, | | | about | 20,000 | | h
Ohio River, Round Bottom, | | 587
Little Kenhawa, | | 2314
Sixteen miles lower down, | | 2448
Opposite Big Bent, | | 4395
| | 9744 | 10 | 97,440 | | i
Great Kenhawa,
Near the mouth, west, | | 10990
East side, above, | | 7276
Mouth of Cole River, | | 2000
Opposite thereto, | 2950
Burning Spring, | 125
| | 3075
| | | | 200,000 | | k
| MARYLAND.
Charles County | | 600 | 6 | 3,600 | | l
Montgomery County, | | 519 | 12 | 6,228 | | m
| PENNSYLVANIA.
Great Meadows | | 234 | 6 | 1,404 | | n
| NEW YORK.
Mohawk River, | about | 1000 | 6 | 6,000 | | o
| NORTHWEST TERRITORY.
On Little Miami, | | 839
Ditto, | | 977
Ditto, | | 1235
| | 3051 | 5 | 15,255 | | p
| KENTUCKY.
Rough Creek, | | 3000
Ditto, adjoining, | | 2000
| | 5000 | 2 | 10,000 | | q

LOTS.

CITY OF WASHINGTON.
Two near the Capitol, Square 634, cost 963 dollars, and with buildings, | 15,000 | r

Nos. 5, 12, 13, and 14, the last three water lots on the Eastern Branch, in Square 667, containing together 34,438 square feet, at 12 cents,

4,132

s

ALEXANDRIA.

Corner of Pitt and Prince streets, half an acre, laid out into building lots, three or four of which are let on ground rent, at three dollars per foot,

4,000

t

WINCHESTER.
A lot in the town, of half an acre, and another on the common, of about six acres, supposed, | 400 | u
BATH, OR WARM SPRINGS.
Two well-situated and handsome buildings, to the amount of £150, | 800 | v

STOCK.

| | | Dollars.
United States 6 per cent. | | 3,746
Ditto, deferred, | 1,873
Ditto, 3 per cent. | 2,946
| | 2,500
| | | 6,246 | w
Potomac Company, 24 shares, cost each £100 sterling, | | | 10,666 | x
James River Company, 5 shares, each cost 100 dollars, | | | 500 | y
Bank of Columbia, 170 shares, 40 dollars each, | | | 6,800 | } | z
Bank of Alexandria, | | | 1,000 | }
Besides 20 shares in the free school,—5.

STOCK LIVING.

One covering horse, 5 carriage horses, 4 riding horses, 6 brood mares,
20 working horses and mares, 2 covering jacks and 3 young ones,
10 she-asses, 42 working mules, 15 younger ones, 329 head of
horned cattle, 640 head of sheep, and a large stock of hogs,
the precise number unknown. My manager has estimated
this live stock at £7000; but I shall set it down, in order to make a
round sum, at 15,653

Aggregate amount,$530,000

NOTES.

(a) This tract, for the size of it, is valuable, more for its situation than the quality of its soil; though that is good for farming, with a considerable proportion of ground that might very easily be improved into meadow. It lies on the great road from the city of Washington, Alexandria, and Georgetown, to Leesburgh and Winchester, at Difficult Bridge, nineteen miles from Alexandria, less from the city of Georgetown, and not more than three from Matildaville, at the Great Falls of Potomac. There is a valuable seat on the premises, and the whole is conditionally sold for the sum annexed in the schedule.

(b) What the selling prices of lands in the vicinity of these two tracts are, I know not; but, compared with those above the Ridge, and others below them, the value annexed will appear moderate; a less one would not obtain them from me.

(c) The surrounding land, not superior in soil, situation, or properties of any sort, sells currently at from twenty to thirty dollars an acre. The lowest price is affixed to these.

(d) The observations made in the last note apply equally to this tract; being in the vicinity of them, and of similar quality, although it lies in another county.

(e) This tract, though small, is extremely valuable. It lies on Potomac River, about twelve miles above the town of Bath, or Warm Springs, and is in the shape of a horseshoe; the river running almost around it. Two hundred acres of it are rich low grounds, with a great abundance of the largest and finest walnut trees; which, with the produce of the soil, might (by means of the improved navigation of the Potomac) be brought to a shipping port with more ease, and at a smaller expense, than that which is transported thirty miles only by land.

(f) This tract is of second-rate Gloucester low ground. It has no improvements thereon, but lies on navigable water, abounding in fish and oysters. It was received in payment of a debt (carrying interest), and valued in the year 1789, by an impartial gentleman, at £800. N. B. It has lately been sold, and there is due thereon a balance, equal to what is annexed in the schedule.

(g) These 373 acres are the third part of an undivided purchase made by the deceased Fielding Lewis, Thomas Walker, and myself, on full conviction that they would become valuable. The land lies on the road from Suffolk and Norfolk, touches (if I am not mistaken) some part of the navigable water of Nansemond River. The rich Dismal Swamp is capable of great improvement, and from its situation must become extremely valuable.

(h) This is an undivided interest, which I hold in the Great Dismal Swamp Company, containing about 4000 acres, with my part of the plantation and stock thereon, belonging to the Company in the said swamp.

(i) These several tracts of land are of the first quality, on the Ohio River, in the parts where they are situated; being almost, if not altogether, river bottoms. The smallest of these tracts is actually sold at ten dollars an acre, but the consideration therefor not received. The rest are equally valuable, and sold as high; especially that which lies just below the Little Kenhawa, and is opposite to a thick settlement on the west side of the river. The four tracts have an aggregate breadth upon the river of sixteen miles, and are bounded thereby for that distance.

(k) These tracts are situated on the Great Kenhawa River, and the first four are bounded thereby for more than forty miles. It is acknowledged by all who have seen them (and of the tract containing 10,990 acres, which I have been on myself, I can assert), that there is no richer or more valuable land in all that region. They are conditionally sold for the sum mentioned in the schedule, that is, 200,000 dollars; and, if the terms of that sale are not complied with, they will command considerably more. The tract, of which the 125 acres is a moiety, was taken up by General Andrew Lewis and myself, for and on account of a bituminous spring which it contains, of so inflammable a nature as to burn as freely as spirits, and is nearly as difficult to extinguish.

(l) I am but little acquainted with this land, although I have once been on it. It was received (many years since) in discharge of a debt to me from Daniel Jenifer Adams, at the value annexed thereto, and must be worth more. It is very level; lies near the river Potomac.

(m) This tract lies about thirty miles above the city of Washington, not far from Kittoctan. It is good farming land; and, by those who are well acquainted it, I am informed that it would sell at twelve or fifteen dollars per acre.

(n) This land is valuable on account of its local situation, and other properties. It affords an exceeding good stand on Braddock's Road from Fort Cumberland to Pittsburgh, and, besides a fertile soil, possesses a large quantity of natural meadow, fit for the scythe. It is distinguished by the appellation of the Great Meadows, where the first action with the French in 1754 was fought.

(o) This is the moiety of about 2000 acres, which remains unsold of 6071 acres on the Mohawk River (Montgomery County), in a patent granted to Daniel Coxe, in the township of Coxborough and Carolina, as will appear by deed from Marinus Willett and wife to George Clinton, late governor of New York, and myself. The latter sales have been at six dollars an acre, and what remains unsold will fetch that or more.

(p) The quality of these lands, and their situations, may be known by the surveyor's certificates, which are filed along with the patents. They lie in the vicinity of Cincinnati; one tract near the mouth of the Little Miami; another seven, and the third ten miles up the same. I have been informed, that they will command more than they are estimated at.

(q) For the description of these tracts in detail, see General Spotswood's letters, filed with the other papers relating to them. Besides the general good quality of the land, there is a valuable bank of iron ore thereon, which, when the settlement becomes more populous (and settlers are moving that way very fast), will be found very valuable, as the Rough Creek, a branch of Green River, affords ample water for furnaces and forges.

LOTS.

CITY OF WASHINGTON.

(r) The two lots near the Capitol, in square 634, cost me 963 dollars only. But in this price I was favored, on condition that I should build two brick houses, three stories high each. Without this reduction, the selling prices of those lots would have cost me about 1350 dollars. These lots, with the buildings thereon, when completed, will stand me in 15,000 dollars at least.

(s) Lots Nos. 5, 12, 13, and 14, on the Eastern Branch, are advantageously situated on the water; and, although many lots, much less convenient, have sold a great deal higher, I will rate these at 12 cents the square foot only.

ALEXANDRIA.

(t) For this lot, although unimproved, I have refused 3500 dollars. It has since been laid out into proper sized lots for building on; three or four of which are let on ground rent for ever, at three dollars a foot on the street, and this price is asked for both fronts on Pitt and Prince streets.

WINCHESTER.

(u) As neither the lot in the town or common have any improvements on them, it is not easy to fix a price; but, as both are well situated, it is presumed that the price annexed to them in the schedule is a reasonable valuation.

BATH.

(v) The lots in Bath (two adjoining) cost me, to the best of my recollection, between fifty and sixty pounds, twenty years ago; and the buildings thereon, one hundred and fifty pounds more. Whether property there has increased or decreased in its value, and in what condition the houses are, I am ignorant; but suppose they are not valued too high.

STOCK.

(w) These are the sums which are actually funded; and though no more in the aggregate than 7566 dollars, stand me in at least ten thousand pounds, Virginia money; being the amount of bonded and other debts due to me, and discharged during the war, when money had depreciated in that rate,— and was so settled by public authority.

(x) The value annexed to these shares is what they have actually cost me, and is the price affixed by law; and, although the present selling price is under par, my advice to the legatees (for whose benefit they are intended, especially those who can afford to lie out of the money) is, that each should take and hold one; there being a moral certainty of a great and increasing profit arising from them in the course of a few years.

(y) It is supposed that the shares in the James River Company must be productive. But of this I can give no decided opinion, for want of more accurate information.

(z) These are the nominal prices of the shares in the Banks of Alexandria and Columbia; the selling prices vary according to circumstances; but, as the stocks usually divide from eight to ten per cent. per annum, they must be worth the former, at least, so long as the banks are conceived to be secure, although from circumstances they may sometimes be below it.

The value of the live stock depends more upon the quality than quantity of the different species of it, and this again upon the demand, and judgment or fancy of purchasers.

George Washington.

Mount Vernon, July 9, 1799.

[135] It appears that the testator omitted the word “nine,” —Sparks.

[136] As General Washington never had any children, he gave the larger part of his property to his nephews and nieces, and the children of Mrs. Washington's son by her first marriage. The principal heir was Bushrod Washington, son of his brother, John Augustine Washington.—Sparks.

[137] This paragraph answers the question which has sometimes been asked, with an unfriendly spirit, “Why did not Washington manumit his slaves during his lifetime?” He was ever anxious to give them freedom, and to see the system abolished from the republic. In 1783, he wrote to Lafayette: “The scheme which you propose, as a precedent to encourage the emancipation of the black people in this country, from the state of bondage in which they are held, is a striking evidence of the benevolence of your heart. I shall be happy to join you, in so laudable a work.”

To Robert Morris he wrote in October 1786: “There is not a man living, who wishes more sincerely than I do to see a plan adopted for the abolition of slavery; but there is only one proper and effectual mode by which it can be accomplished, and that is, by legislative authority; and this, as far as my suffrage will go, shall never be wanting. But when slaves, who are happy and contented with their present masters, are tampered with and seduced to leave them; when masters are taken unawares by these practices; when a conduct of this kind begets discontent on one side and resentment on the other; and when it happens to fall on a man whose purse will not measure with that of the Society [Quakers], and he loses his property for want of means to defend it; it is oppressive in such a case, and not humanity in any, because it introduces more evils than it can cure.”

To John F. Mercer, of Virginia, he wrote, a few months later: “I never mean, unless some particular circumstances should compel me to it, to possess another slave by purchase, it being among my first wishes to see some plan adopted by which slavery in this country may be abolished by law.”

In 1794, he wrote to Tobias Lear, his private secretary, then in England, endeavoring to negotiate the sale of some of Washington's wild lands, that one object he had in view in making sales was to place himself in a position to emancipate his slaves. “Another motive,” he wrote—"which is, indeed, more powerful than all the rest—is, to liberate a certain species of property, which I possess, very reluctantly to my own feelings, but which imperious necessity compels,” &c.

In 1797, he wrote to his nephew, Lawrence Lewis: “I wish, from my soul that the legislature of this state could see the policy of a gradual abolition of slavery. It might prevent much future mischief.”

CHAPTER XLII.

TOP

washington at the close of his life—exposure to a storm—takes cold—its fatal effects—tobias lear's account of his sickness and death—his funeral—intelligence of his death reaches congress—proceedings of the two houses—action of the president of the united states—national mourning—funeral oration by general lee—effect of washington's death abroad—honors to his memory—fontanes' funeral oration at paris.

When the winter of 1799 set in, cold and stormy, toward the middle of December, and ice began to grow thick in the coves and creeks of the Potomac, Washington, enjoying a degree of robust health and vigor of mind and body uncommon for men of his years and labors, was found still engaged in his out-of-door employments, unmindful of the frosty air and inclement weather. His whole aspect gave promise of many years of serene old age. His nephew, Lawrence Lewis, was with him most of the time at this period, and the family circle at Mount Vernon was full of joy, contentment, and peace.

One frosty morning, Washington and his nephew walked out together, when the former pointed out to the latter some of his projected improvements near the mansion. Among other places, he showed him the spot where he proposed to erect a new family burial-vault. He spoke of its form and dimensions, and then said, “This change I shall make the first of all, for I may require it before the rest.”

“When I parted from him,” said Major Lewis, in long-after years, “he stood on the steps of the front door, where he took leave of myself and another. He had taken his usual ride, and the clear, healthy flush on his cheek, and his sprightly manner, brought the remark from both of us that we had never seen the general look so well. I have sometimes thought him decidedly the handsomest man I ever saw; and when in a lively mood, so full of pleasantry, so agreeable to all with whom he associated, I could hardly realize that he was the same Washington whose dignity awed all who approached him.”

Two or three days afterward, the weather changed. In his diary, under date of December 11th, Washington noted that there was wind and rain; and that at night, when the clouds had dispersed, there was “a large circle around the moon.” On the following day, a storm of snow set in at one o'clock, P. M., which soon changed, first to hail, and then to rain. Washington was caught out in it. As usual, he had been in the saddle since ten o'clock in the morning, inspecting operations upon the Mansion-house farm at various places, and returned in time for dinner at three o'clock. Mr. Lear, his former private secretary, and who had, on his appointment to the chief command of the army, resumed that post, was now with him. He had just finished some letters, and given them to Washington to frank, when he observed snow hanging to the general's hair about his neck, and he expressed a fear that he might be wet. “Oh, no,” Washington replied; “my great-coat has kept me quite dry.” He then franked the letters, at the same time observing that the storm was becoming too heavy for a servant to ride in it all the way to the post-office, at Alexandria. It being late dinner-time, the food all upon the table, and the family waiting for him, he sat down to the meal without changing his damp clothes.

On rising the following morning, Washington complained of a sore throat. He had evidently taken cold the preceding day. The snow lay three inches deep upon the ground, and was still falling. He omitted his usual ride, and remained within-doors until noon, when the clouds broke, and the sun came out warm. He occupied himself before dinner in marking some trees on the lawn, between the mansion and the high river-bank, that were to be cut down; and with his compass and chain he traced out several lines for improvements.

A hoarseness, that had troubled him a little all day, grew worse after dinner; yet he regarded it as of very little importance. At twilight it was quite distressing, yet he was cheerful all the evening. He sat in the parlor with Mrs. Washington and Mr. Lear. Mr. Lewis and young Custis were absent; and Mrs. Lewis, just confined with her first child, was in her chamber. Newspapers were brought in early in the evening. Washington looked them over, and, when he found anything interesting, he would read it aloud as well as his hoarseness would permit. At about nine o'clock, Mrs. Washington withdrew and went up to Mrs. Lewis's chamber, when the general requested Mr. Lear to read to him the debates of the Virginia assembly, then in session, on the election of senator and governor. “On hearing Mr. Madison's observations respecting Mr. Monroe,” says Mr. Lear, who wrote a detailed account of Washington's sickness and death, “he appeared much affected, and spoke with some degree of asperity on the subject, which I endeavored to moderate, as I always did on such occasions. On his retiring, I observed to him that he had better take something to remove his cold. He answered: 'No, you know I never take anything for a cold. Let it go as it came.'”

Mr. Lear's account of the brief sickness and speedy death of Washington is so short, yet circumstantial and perspicuous, and may not be condensed without injury to its completeness, that we will give it in his own words:—

“Between two and three o'clock on Saturday morning” (the fourteenth), says Mr. Lear, “he awoke Mrs. Washington, and told her that he was very unwell, and had an ague. She observed that he could scarcely speak, and breathed with difficulty, and would have got up to call a servant; but he would not permit her, lest she should take a cold. As soon as the day appeared, the woman (Caroline) went into the room to make fire, and Mrs. Washington sent her immediately to call me. I got up, put on my clothes as quickly as possible, and went to his chamber. Mrs. Washington was then up, and related to me his being ill, as before stated. I found the general breathing with difficulty, and hardly able to utter a word intelligibly. He desired Mr. Rawlins (one of the overseers) might be sent for, to bleed him before the doctor could arrive. I despatched a servant instantly for Rawlins, and another for Doctor Craik, and returned again to the general's chamber, where I found him in the same situation as I had left him.

“A mixture of molasses, vinegar, and butter, was prepared, to try its effects upon his throat; but he could not swallow a drop. Whenever he attempted it, he appeared to be distressed, convulsed, and almost suffocated. Rawlins came in soon after sunrise, and prepared to bleed him. When the arm was ready, the general, observing that Rawlins appeared to be agitated, said, as well as he could speak, 'Don't be afraid.' And when the incision was made, he observed, 'The orifice is not large enough.' However, the blood ran pretty freely. Mrs. Washington, not knowing whether bleeding was proper or not in the general's situation, begged that much might not be taken from him, lest it should be injurious, and desired me to stop it; but, when I was about to untie the string, the general put his hand to prevent it, and, as he could not speak, he said,' More, more.' Mrs. Washington being still very uneasy, lest too much blood should be taken, it was stopped after taking about half a pint. Finding that no relief was obtained from bleeding, and that nothing would go down the throat, I proposed bathing it externally with sal volatile, which was done; and in the operation, which was with the hand, and in the gentlest manner, he observed, 'It is very sore.' A piece of flannel, dipped in sal volatile, was put around his neck, and his feet bathed in warm water, but without affording any relief.

“About eight o'clock in the morning, he expressed a desire to get up. His clothes were put on, and he was led to a chair by the fire. He found no relief from that position, and lay down again about ten o'clock.

“In the meantime, before Doctor Craik arrived, Mrs. Washington desired me to send for Doctor Brown, of Port Tobacco, whom Doctor Craik had recommended to be called, if any case should ever occur that was seriously alarming. I despatched a messenger immediately for Doctor Brown between eight and nine o'clock. Doctor Craik came in soon after; and, upon examining the general, he put a blister of cantharides upon the throat, took some more blood from him, and had a gargle of vinegar and sage-tea prepared; and ordered some vinegar and hot water, for him to inhale the steam of it, which he did; but, in attempting to use the gargle, he was almost suffocated. When the gargle came from the throat, some phlegm followed, and he attempted to cough, which the doctor encouraged him to do as much as possible; but he could only attempt it. About eleven o'clock, Doctor Craik requested that Doctor Dick might be sent for, as he feared Doctor Brown would not come in time. A messenger was accordingly despatched for him. About this time the general was bled again. No effect, however, was produced by it, and he remained in the same state, unable to swallow anything.

“Doctor Dick came about three o'clock, and Doctor Brown arrived soon after. Upon Doctor Dick's seeing the general, and consulting a few minutes with Doctor Craik, he was bled again. The blood came very slow, was thick, and did not produce any symptoms of fainting. Doctor Brown came into the chamber soon after, and, upon feeling the general's pulse, the physicians went out together. Doctor Craik returned soon after. The general could now swallow a little. Calomel and tartar-emetic were administered, but without any effect.

“About half-past four o'clock, he desired me to call Mrs. Washington to his bedside, when he requested her to go down into his room, and take from his desk two wills which she would find there, and bring them to him, which she did. Upon looking at 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 took the other and put it into her closet.

“About five o'clock, he was helped up again; and, after sitting about half an hour, he desired to be undressed and put to bed, which was done.

“After this was done, I returned to his bedside and took his hand. He said to me: 'I find I am going. My breath can not 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.[138] Arrange my accounts and settle my books, as you know more about them than any one 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 that 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, 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 which 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 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 my 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 five o'clock, Doctor 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 can not 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 five and six o'clock, Doctor Dick and Doctor Brown came into the room, and with Doctor Craik went to the bed, when Doctor 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 can not last long.' They found that all which had been done was without effect. He lay down again, and all retired except Doctor 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 eight 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 Doctor 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 grand-daughters) as soon as possible to Mount Vernon.

“About ten 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 ten and eleven 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 Doctor 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. Doctor Craik put his hands over his eyes, and he expired without a struggle or a sigh.

“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.'[139]

“At the time of his decease, Doctor Craik and myself were in the situation before-mentioned. Mrs. Washington was sitting near the foot of the bed. The general's servant, Christopher, who had been in the room, and standing nearly all day, stood near the bedside. Caroline, Molly, and Charlotte, were in the room, standing near the door. Mrs. Forbes, the housekeeper, was frequently in the room during the day and evening.[140]

“As soon as Doctor Craik could speak, after the distressing scene was closed, he desired one of the servants to ask the gentlemen below to come up-stairs. When they came to the bedside, I kissed the cold hand which I had held to my bosom, laid it down, and went to the other end of the room, where I was for some time lost in profound grief, until aroused by Christopher, desiring me to take care of the general's keys, and other things, which were taken out of his pockets, and which Mrs. Washington directed him to give to me. I wrapped them in the general's handkerchief, and took them to my room.”

“It may be asked,” says Mr. Custis, “'Why was the ministry of religion wanting to shed its peaceful and benign lustre upon the last hours of Washington? Why was he, to whom the observances of sacred things were ever primary duties through life, without their consolations in his last moments?' We answer, circumstances did not permit. It was but for a little while that the disease assumed so threatening a character as to forbid the encouragement of hope; yet, to stay that summons which none may refuse, to give still further length of days to him whose time-honored life was so dear to mankind, prayers were not wanting to the throne of grace. Close to the couch of the sufferer, resting her head upon that ancient book with which she had been wont to hold pious communion a portion of every day for more than half a century, was the venerable consort, absorbed in silent prayer, and from which she only arose when the mourning group prepared to lead her from the chamber of the dead.”[141]

Washington's body was brought down from the chamber at midnight, and laid out in the drawing-room; and on the following morning (Sunday) a plain mahogany coffin was procured from Alexandria, and mourning ordered for the family, the overseers, and the domestics.[142] On the same day, several of the relatives, who had been sent for, arrived, among whom was Mrs. Stuart, the mother of Mrs. Washington's grandchildren. Mr. Lewis and young Custis were in New Kent, and only arrived home in time to be present at the funeral, a servant having been despatched for them.

The family wished the burial to be postponed for a week, to give an opportunity for some of Washington's relatives at a distance to be there. But the physicians decided that the disease of which he died, being of an inflammatory nature, it would not be proper to keep the body so long. The time of the funeral was therefore fixed at twelve o'clock, meridian, on Wednesday, the eighteenth. The Reverend Mr. Davis, of Alexandria, who had officiated at a wedding at Mount Vernon ten months before, was invited to perform the burial service, according to the beautiful ritual of the Protestant Episcopal Church.

Having received information from Alexandria that the military and Freemasons were desirous of showing their respect for their chief and brother, by following his body to the grave, Mr. Lear ordered provisions to be prepared for a large number of people, as some refreshment would be expected by them. And Mr. Robert Hamilton, of Alexandria, wrote to Mr. Lear that a schooner of his would anchor off Mount Vernon, to fire minute-guns while the body was passing from the mansion to the tomb.

The arrangements for the procession at the funeral were made by Colonels Little, Simms, and Deneale, and Doctor Dick. The old family vault was opened and cleaned, and Mr. Lear ordered an entrance-door to be made for it, that it might not be again closed with brick. Mr. Stewart, adjutant of the Alexandria regiment, of which Washington had once been colonel, went down to Mount Vernon to view the ground for the procession.

The people began to collect at Mount Vernon on Wednesday, at eleven o'clock; but, owing to a delay of the military, the time for the procession was postponed until three o'clock. The coffined body of the illustrious patriot lay, meanwhile, beneath the grand piazza of the mansion, where he had so often walked and mused.

Between three and four o'clock the procession moved, and, at the same time, minute-guns were fired from the schooner anchored in the Potomac. The pall-bearers were Colonels Little, Simms, Payne, Gilpin, Ramsay, and Marsteler. Colonel Blackburn preceded the corpse. Colonel Deneale marched with the military. The procession moved out through the gate at the left wing of the house, and proceeded round in front of the lawn, and down to the vault on the right wing of the house. The following was the composition and order of the procession:—

The troops, horse and foot, with arms reversed.
Music.
The clergy, namely, the Rev. Messrs. Davis, Muir, Moffat, and Addison.
The general's horse, with his saddle, holsters, and pistols,
led by two grooms (Cyrus and Wilson), in black.
The body, borne by the Masons and officers.
Principal mourners, namely:
Mrs. Stuart and Mrs. Law,
Misses Nancy and Sally Stuart,
Miss Fairfax and Miss Dennison,
Mr. Law and Mr. Peter,
Mr. Lear and Doctor Craik,
Lord Fairfax and Ferdinando Fairfax.
Lodge No. 23.
Corporation of Alexandria.
All other persons, preceded by Mr. Anderson and the overseers.

When the body arrived near the vault, at the bottom of the lawn, on the high bank of the Potomac, the cavalry halted; the infantry moved forward and formed the in-lining; the Masonic brethren and citizens descended to the vault, and the funeral services of the church were read by the Reverend Mr. Davis. He also pronounced a short discourse. The Masons then performed their peculiar ceremonies, and the body was deposited in the vault. Three general discharges of arms were then given by the infantry and the cavalry; and eleven pieces of artillery, which were ranged back of the vault and simultaneously discharged, “paid the last tribute to the entombed commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States.” The sun was now setting, and mournfully that funeral assembly departed for their respective homes.[143]

The federal Congress was in session at Philadelphia when intelligence of the death of Washington reached that city. It was first communicated, on the morning of the eighteenth of December (the day of the funeral), by a passenger in the stage, to an acquaintance. The news spread rapidly, and soon reached the house of representatives, when, immediately after the journals were read, the Honorable John Marshall, of Virginia, arose, and in a voice tremulous with the deepest emotion said:—

“Mr. Speaker, information has just been received that our illustrious fellow-citizen, the commander-in-chief of the American army, and the late president of the United States, is no more. Though this distressing intelligence is not certain, there is too much reason to believe its truth. After receiving information of this national calamity, so heavy and so afflicting, the house of representatives can be but ill fitted for public business. I move you, therefore, that we adjourn.” The house immediately adjourned until the next day at eleven o'clock.

When the house reassembled on the morning of the nineteenth, Mr. Marshall addressed them as follows:—

“Mr. Speaker, 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 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 in 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 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 of the United States, in condolence of this national calamity.

“Resolved, That the speaker's chair be shrouded with black, and that the members and officers of the house wear mourning during the session.

“Resolved, That a joint committee of both houses be appointed, to report measures suitable to the occasion; and expressive of the profound sorrow with which Congress is penetrated on the loss of a citizen, first in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen.”[144]

The house proceeded to appoint a committee of sixteen, with Marshall at their head, to act conjointly with a corresponding senate committee in carrying out the last resolution. A message was soon afterward received from the president, communicating a letter from Mr. Lear that announced the death of Washington. He sent the same to the senate; and that body, on the twenty-third, adopted an appropriate address to the executive, and received from him a response.[145]

The secretary of war issued an order on the nineteenth, requesting General Hamilton to carry into effect the directions of Congress concerning funeral honors to the commander-in-chief, and the wearing of crape in token of mourning. For that purpose, Hamilton issued general orders, prefaced by a most touching eulogy of the dead. “The voice of praise,” he said, “would in vain endeavor to exalt a character unrivalled on the lists of true glory. Words would in vain attempt to give utterance to that profound and reverential grief which will penetrate every American bosom, and engage the sympathy of an admiring world.”

The secretary of the navy also issued orders in accordance with the resolutions of Congress and the direction of the president. Vessels in domestic and foreign ports were ordered to “be put in mourning for one week, by wearing their colors half-mast high,” and the officers and marines were directed to wear crape on the left arm for six months.

On the twenty-third, both houses of Congress adopted the following joint resolutions:—

“Resolved, by the senate and house of representatives of the United States of America, in Congress assembled. 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.

“And be it further resolved, That there be a funeral procession from Congress Hall to the German Lutheran church, in memory of General George Washington, on Thursday, the twenty-sixth 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.

“And be it further resolved, That it be recommended to the people of the United States to wear crape on their left arm, as mourning, for thirty days.

“And be it further resolved, 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 for her person and character, of their condolence on the late afflicting dispensation of Providence; and entreating her assent to the interment of the remains of General Washington in the manner expressed in the first resolution.[146]

“Resolved, That the president of the United States be requested to issue his proclamation, notifying to the people throughout the United States the recommendation contained in the third resolution.”

In accordance with the second of the foregoing resolutions. General Henry Lee, of Virginia, then a member of Congress, and one of the committee of sixteen, was invited to pronounce the funeral oration. He was one of Washington's favorites. Throughout the war for independence, he had been admired and beloved by the commander-in-chief for his manly and soldierly qualities, and he had ever been a welcome guest at Mount Vernon.

The choice of orator was an appropriate one. Both houses of Congress went in a body to the German Lutheran church, in Fourth street, above Arch, to listen to the oration.[147] A vast concourse of citizens was also in attendance; and the M'Pherson Blues, a corps of about three hundred young men, mostly from the best families of Philadelphia, attended as a guard of honor on that occasion. Only six of that corps are known to be alive at this time.[148]

On the thirtieth of December, the Congress resolved “that it be recommended to the people of the United States to assemble on the twenty-second day of February next, in such numbers and manner as may be convenient, publicly to testify their grief for the death of General George Washington, by suitable eulogies, orations, and discourses, or by public prayers.”

The president was requested to issue his proclamation in accordance with this resolution, which he did on the sixth of January; and the birthday of the illustrious Washington, usually celebrated with gayety and festivity, was made, in the year 1800, an occasion of funeral solemnities.

The death of Washington produced a profound sensation in Europe. The English newspapers were filled with eulogies on his character. On hearing of his death, Lord Bridport, who was in command of a British fleet of almost sixty sail, at Torbay, on the coast of Devon, ordered every ship to lower her flag to half-mast; and Bonaparte, then First Consul of France, announced his death to his army, and ordered black crape to be suspended from all the flags and standards in the French service for ten days. In Paris, the citizens showed many demonstrations of respect; and on the “20th Pluviose” (eighth of February, 1800), Louis de Fontanes pronounced an impassioned funeral oration in his honor, in the Temple of Mars.[149]

FOOTNOTES:

[138] In a letter to General Hamilton, written a month afterward, Mr. Lear says: “To Judge Washington the general left by will all his public and private papers. A few hours before his death he observed to him—'I am about to change the scene. I can not last long. I believed from the first the attack would be fatal. Do you arrange all my papers and accounts, as you know more about these things than any one else.'”—Works of Hamilton, vi. 424. There must have been a change of the word me to him, in transcribing this letter for the press, because in no account is the judge mentioned as having been present during Washington's last sickness.

[139] Mrs. Washington died at Mount Vernon, on the twenty-second of May, 1802, in the seventy-first year of her age.

[140] A picture of the room in which Washington died, and the bed on which he expired, may be seen in Lossing's Mount Vernon and its Associations.

[141] Custis's Recollections, &c., p. 477.

[142] At the head of the coffin was placed an ornament, inscribed Surge ad judicum. At about the middle were the words Gloria Deo; and upon a silver plate was the record—

GENERAL

GEORGE WASHINGTON,

DEPARTED THIS LIFE ON THE 14TH DECEMBER,

1799, ÆT. 68.

The coffin was lined with lead: and upon a cover of the same material, to be put on after the coffin was laid in the vault, was a silver shield, nearly three inches in length, inscribed—

GEORGE WASHINGTON,

BORN FEB. 22, 1732.

DIED DECEMBER 14, 1799.

[143] Mount Vernon and its Associations.

[144] These resolutions were drawn by General Henry Lee, who was not present at the time.

[145] The following is a copy of the senate's address, and the president's reply:—

To the President of the United States:

“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 General 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 him with those of other countries who have been pre-eminent 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 travelled on to the end of his journey, and carried with him an increasing weight of honor; he has deposited it safely, where misfortune can not tarnish it, where malice can not 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.”

THE PRESIDENT'S ANSWER.

“23 December, 1799.

“Gentlemen of the Senate:

“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 his 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 can not 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. If a Traian found a Pliny, a Marcus Aurelius can never want biographers, eulogists, or historians.

“John Adams.”

[146] In compliance with these resolutions, President Adams wrote a letter to Mrs. Washington on the subject, and received the following reply:—

“Mount Vernon, December 31, 1799.

“Sir: While I feel, with keenest anguish, the late dispensation of Divine Providence, I can not be insensible to the mournful tributes of respect and veneration which are paid to the memory of my dear deceased husband; and, as his best services and most anxious wishes were always devoted to the welfare and happiness of his country, to know that they were truly appreciated and gratefully remembered affords no inconsiderable consolation.

“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 can not, say what a sacrifice of individual feeling I make to a sense of public duty.

“With grateful acknowledgments and unfeigned thanks for the personal respect and evidences of condolence expressed by Congress and yourself, I remain, very respectfully, sir, your most obedient, humble servant,

“Martha Washington.”

The president transmitted her letter to Congress, accompanied by the following message:—

“Gentlemen of the Senate, and Gentlemen of the House of Representatives:

“In compliance with the request in one of the resolutions of Congress on the twenty-third of December last, I transmitted a copy of those resolutions, by my secretary, Mr. Shaw, to Mrs. Washington, assuring her of the profound respect Congress will ever bear to her person and character; of their condolence in the late afflicting dispensation of Providence; and entreating her assent to the interment of the remains of General George Washington in the manner expressed in the first resolution. As the sentiments of that virtuous lady, not less beloved by this nation than she is at present greatly afflicted, can never be so well expressed as in her own words, I transmit to Congress her original letter.

“It would be an attempt of too much delicacy to make any comments upon it; but there can be no doubt that the nation at large, as well as all the branches of the government, will be highly gratified by any arrangement which may diminish the sacrifices she makes of her individual feelings.

“John Adams.

“United States, January 6, 1800.”

The proposed monument has not been erected. An unsuccessful effort was made, in 1832, to have the remains of the illustrious dead removed to the federal capital, and placed beneath such monument. Now that the home and tomb of Washington have, through the efforts of the women of the United States, become the property of the nation, every American should rejoice that his dust will ever remain to consecrate them.

[147] The following is a copy of General Lee's oration:—

“In obedience to your will, I rise, your humble organ, with the hope of executing a part of the system of public mourning which you have been pleased to adopt, commemorative of the death of the most illustrious and most beloved personage this country has ever produced; and which, while it transmits to posterity your sense of the awful event, faintly represents your knowledge of the consummate excellence you so cordially honor.

“Desperate, indeed, is any attempt on earth to meet correspondently this dispensation of Heaven; for while, with pious resignation, we submit to the will of an all-gracious Providence, we can never cease lamenting, in our finite view of Omnipotent Wisdom, the heart-rending privation for which our nation weeps. When the civilized world shakes to its centre; when every moment gives birth to strange and momentous changes; when our peaceful quarter of the globe, exempt, as it happily has been, from any share in the slaughter of the human race, may yet be compelled to abandon her pacific policy, and to risk the doleful casualties of war—what limit is there to the extent of our loss? None within the reach of my words to express; none which your feelings will not disavow.

“The founder of our federate republic, our bulwark in war, our guide in peace, is no more! Oh, that this were but questionable! Hope, the comforter of the wretched, would pour into our agonizing hearts its balmy dew; but, alas! there is no hope for us. Our Washington is removed for ever! Possessing the stoutest frame and purest mind, he had passed nearly to his sixty-eighth year, in the enjoyment of high health, when, habituated by his care of us to neglect himself, a slight cold, disregarded, became inconvenient on Friday, oppressive on Saturday, and, defying every medical interposition, before the morning of Sunday, put an end to the best of men. An end did I say? His fame survives, bounded only by the limits of the earth and by the extent of the human mind! He survives in our hearts, in the growing knowledge of our children, in the affections of the good throughout the world; and, when our monuments shall be done away—when nations now existing shall be no more—when even our young and far-spreading empire shall have perished—still will our Washington's glory unfaded shine, and die not, until love of virtue cease on earth, or earth itself sink into chaos.

“How, my fellow-citizens, shall I single to your grateful hearts his pre-eminent worth? Where shall I begin in opening to your view a character throughout sublime? Shall I speak of his warlike achievements, all springing from obedience to his country's will—all directed to his country's good?

“Will you go with me to the banks of the Monongahela, to see your youthful Washington supporting, in the dismal hour of Indian victory, the ill-fated Braddock, and saving, by his judgment and by his valor, the remains of a defeated army, pressed by the conquering savage foe? Or, when oppressed America, nobly resolving to risk her all in defence of her violated rights, he was elevated by the unanimous voice of Congress to the command of her armies, will you follow him to the high grounds of Boston, where, to an undisciplined, courageous, and virtuous yeomanry, his presence gave the stability of system, and infused the invincibility of love of country? Or shall I carry you to the painful scenes of Long Island, York island, and New Jersey, when, combatting superior and gallant armies, aided by powerful fleets, and led by chiefs high in the roll of fame, he stood the bulwark of our safety, undismayed by disaster, unchanged by change of fortune? Or will you view him in the precarious fields of Trenton, where deep glooms, unnerving every arm, reigned triumphant through our thinned, worn down, unaided ranks, himself unmoved? Dreadful was the night! It was about this time of winter. The storm raged; the Delaware, rolling furiously with floating ice, forbade the approach of man. Washington, self-collected, viewed the tremendous scene; his country called. Unappalled by surrounding dangers, he passed to the hostile shore; he fought—he conquered! The morning sun cheered the American world. Our country rose on the event; and her dauntless chief, pursuing his blow, completed on the lawns of Princeton what his vast soul had conceived on the shores of the Delaware.

“Thence to the strong grounds of Morristown he led his small but gallant band; and through an eventful winter, by the high efforts of his genius, whose matchless force was measurable only by the growth of difficulties, he held in check formidable hostile legions, conducted by a chief experienced in the art of war, and famed for his valor on the ever-memorable heights of Abraham, where fell Wolfe, Montcalm, and, since, our much-lamented Montgomery, all covered with glory. In this fortunate interval, produced by his masterly conduct, our fathers, ourselves, animated by his resistless example, rallied around our country's standard, and continued to follow her beloved chief through the various and trying scenes to which the destinies of our Union led.

“Who is there that has forgotten the vales of Brandywine, the fields of Germantown, or the plains of Monmouth? Everywhere present, wants of every kind obstructing, numerous and valiant armies encountering, himself a host, he assuaged our sufferings, limited our privations, and upheld our tottering republic. Shall I display to you the spread of the fire of his soul, by rehearsing the praises of the hero of Saratoga, and his much-loved compeer of the Carolinas? No; our Washington wears not borrowed glory. To Gates—to Greene—he gave, without reserve, the applause due to their eminent merit; and long may the chiefs of Saratoga and of the Eotaws receive the grateful respect of a grateful people!

“Moving in his own orbit, he imparted heat and light to his most distant satellites; and, combining the physical and moral force of all within his sphere, with irresistible weight he took his course, commiserating folly, disdaining vice, dismaying treason, and invigorating despondency, until the auspicious hour arrived when, united with the intrepid forces of a potent and magnanimous ally, he brought to submission the since conqueror of India; thus finishing his long career of military glory with a lustre corresponding with his great name, and in this, his last act of war, affixing the seal of fate to our nation's birth.

“To the horrid din of war sweet peace succeeded; and our virtuous chief, mindful only of the public good, in a moment tempting personal aggrandizement, hushed the discontents of growing sedition, and, surrendering his power into the hands from which he had received it, converted his sword into a ploughshare—teaching an admiring world that, to be truly great, you must be truly good.

“Were I to stop here, the picture would be incomplete, and the task imposed unfinished. Great as was our Washington in war, and much as did that greatness contribute to produce the American republic, it is not in war alone that his pre-eminence stands conspicuous; his various talents, combining all the capacities of a statesman with those of a soldier, fitted him alike to guide the councils and the armies of our nation. Scarcely had he rested from his martial toils, while his invaluable parental advice was still sounding in our ears, when he who had been our shield and our sword was called forth to act a less splendid but more important part.

“Possessing a clear and penetrating mind, a strong and sound judgment, calmness and temper for deliberation, with invincible firmness and perseverance in resolutions maturely formed, drawing information from all, acting from himself with incorruptible integrity and unvarying patriotism, his own superiority and the public confidence alike marked him as the man designed by Heaven to lead in the great political as well as military events which have distinguished the era of his life.

“The finger of an overruling Providence pointing at Washington was neither mistaken nor unobserved, when, to realize the vast hopes to which our Revolution had given birth, a change of political system became indispensable.

“How novel, how grand the spectacle—independent states stretched over an immense territory, and known only by common difficulty, clinging to their Union as the rock of their safety, deciding by frank comparison of their relative condition to rear on that rock, under the guidance of reason, a common government, through whose commanding protection liberty and order, with their long train of blessings, should be safe to themselves and the sure inheritance of their posterity!

“This arduous task devolved on citizens selected by the people, from a knowledge of their wisdom, and confidence in their virtue. In this august assembly of sages and of patriots, Washington, of course, was found; and, as if acknowledged to be most wise where all were wise, with one voice he was declared their chief. How well he merited this rare distinction—how faithful were the labors of himself and his compatriots, the work of their hands and our union, strength, and prosperity—the fruits of that work best attest.

“But to have essentially aided in presenting to his country this consummation of her hopes, neither satisfied the claims of his fellow-citizens on his talents, nor those duties which the possession of those talents imposed. Heaven had not infused into his mind such an uncommon share of its ethereal spirit to remain unemployed, nor bestowed on him his genius unaccompanied by the corresponding duty of devoting it to the common good. To have framed a constitution, was showing only, without realizing, the general happiness. This great work remained to be done; and America, steadfast in her preference, with one voice summoned her beloved Washington, unpractised as he was in the duties of civil administration, to execute this last act in the completion of the national felicity. Obedient to her call, he assumed the high office with that self-distrust peculiar to his innate modesty, the constant attendant of pre-eminent virtue. What was the burst of joy through our anxious land on this exhilarating event, is known to us all. The aged, the young, the brave, the fair, rivalled each other in demonstrations of their gratitude; and this high-wrought, delightful scene was heightened in its effect by the singular contest between the zeal of the bestowers and the avoidance of the receiver of the honors bestowed. Commencing his administration, what heart is not charmed with the recollection of the pure and wise principles announced by himself as the basis of his political life? He best understood the indissoluble union between virtue and happiness, between duty and advantage, between the genuine maxims of an honest and magnanimous policy and the solid rewards of public prosperity and individual felicity. Watching with an equal and comprehensive eye over this great assemblage of communities and interests, he laid the foundations of our national policy in the unerring, immutable principles of morality, based on religion; exemplifying the pre-eminence of free government by all the attributes which win the affections of its citizens or command the respect of the world.

“'O fortunatos dimium sua sibona norint!'

“Leading through the complicated difficulties produced by previous obligations and conflicting interests, seconded by succeeding houses of Congress, enlightened and patriotic, he surmounted all original obstructions, and brightened the path of our national felicity.

“The presidential term expiring, his solicitude to exchange exaltation for humility returned with a force increased with increase of age; and he had prepared his farewell address to his countrymen, proclaiming his intention, when the united interposition of all around him, enforced by the eventful prospects of the epoch, produced a further sacrifice of inclination to duty. The election of president followed, and Washington, by the unanimous vote of the nation, was called to resume the chief magistracy. What a wonderful fixture of confidence! Which attracts most our admiration—a people so correct, or a citizen combining an assemblage of talents forbidding rivalry, and stifling even envy itself! Such a nation deserves to be happy; such a chief must be for ever revered.

“War, long menaced by the Indian tribes, now broke out; and the terrible conflict, deluging Europe with blood, began to shed its baneful influence over our happy land. To the first, outstretching his invincible arm, under the orders of the gallant Wayne, the American eagle soared triumphant through distant forests. Peace followed victory, and the melioration of the condition of the enemy followed peace. Godlike virtue, which uplifts even the subdued savage!

“To the second he opposed himself. New and delicate was the conjuncture, and great was the stake. Soon did his penetrating mind discern and seize the only course continuing to us all the blessings enjoyed. He issued his proclamation of neutrality. This index to his whole subsequent conduct was sanctioned by the approbation of both houses of Congress, and by the approving voice of the people.

“To this sublime policy he invariably adhered, unmoved by foreign intrusion, unshaken by domestic turbulence.

“'Justum et tenacem propositi virum,
Non civium ardor prava jubentium,
Non vultus instantis tyranni
Mente quatit solida.'

“Maintaining his pacific system at the expense of no duty, America, faithful to herself and unstained in her honor, continued to enjoy the delights of peace, while afflicted Europe mourns in every quarter under the accumulated miseries of an unexampled war—miseries in which our happy country must have shared had not our pre-eminent Washington been as firm in council as he was brave in the field.

“Pursuing steadfastly his course, he held safe the public happiness, preventing foreign war and quelling internal disorder, till the revolving period of a third election approached, when he executed his interrupted but inextinguishable desire of returning to the humble walks of private life.

“The promulgation of his fixed resolution stopped the anxious wishes of an affectionate people from adding a third unanimous testimonial of their unabated confidence in the man so long enthroned in their hearts. When, before, was affection like this exhibited on earth? Turn over the records of Greece—review the annals of mighty Rome—examine the volumes of modern Europe—you search in vain. America and her Washington only affords the dignified exemplification.

“The illustrious personage, called by the national voice in succession to the arduous office of guiding a free people, had no difficulties to encounter. The amicable effort of settling our difficulties with France, begun by Washington and pursued by his successor in virtue as in station, proving abortive, America took measures of self-defence. No sooner was the public mind roused by a prospect of danger, than every eye was turned to the friend of all, though secluded from public view and gray in public service. The virtuous veteran, following his plough, received the unexpected summons with mingled emotions of indignation at the unmerited ill-treatment of his country, and of a determination once more to risk his all in her defence.

“The annunciation of these feelings, in his affecting letter to the president, accepting the command of the army, concludes his official conduct.

“First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen, he was second to none in the humble and endearing scenes of private life; uniform, dignified, and commanding, his example was as edifying to all around him as were the effects of that example lasting.

“To his equals, he was condescending; to his inferiors, kind; and to the dear object of his affections, exemplarily tender. Correct throughout, Vice shuddered in his presence, and Virtue always felt his fostering hand. The purity of his private character gave effulgence to his public virtues.

“His last scene comported with the whole tenor of his life. Although in extreme pain, not a sigh, not a groan, escaped him; and with undisturbed serenity he closed his well-spent life. Such was the man America has lost; such was the man for whom our nation mourns.

“Methinks I see his august image, and hear falling from his venerable lips these deep-sinking words:—

“'Cease, sons of America, lamenting our separation. Go on and confirm by your wisdom the fruits of our joint councils, joint efforts, and common dangers; reverence religion; diffuse knowledge throughout your lands; patronize the arts and sciences; let Liberty and Order be inseparable companions. Control party spirit, the bane of free government; observe good faith to, and cultivate peace with, all nations; shut up every avenue to foreign influence; contract rather than extend national connections; rely on yourselves only; be Americans in thought, word, and deed. Thus will you give immortality to that Union which was the constant object of my terrestrial labors; thus will you preserve undisturbed to the latest posterity the felicity of a people to me most dear; and thus will you supply (if my happiness is now aught to you) the only vacancy in the round of pure bliss high Heaven bestows.'"

[148] May, 1860. The following are the names and present ages of the survivors: Samuel Breck, eighty-nine; S. Palmer, eighty; S. F. Smith, eighty; Charles N. Bancker, eighty-four; Quentin Campbell, eighty-four; and John F. Watson, the annalist of Philadelphia and New York, eighty-one.

[149] “France,” said Fontanes, “unbiassed by those narrow prejudices which exist between nations, and admiring virtue wherever it be found, decrees this tribute of respect to the manes of Washington. At this moment she contributes to the discharge of a debt due by two nations. No government, whatever form it bears, or whatever opinions it holds, can refuse its respect to this great Father of Liberty. The people who so lately stigmatized Washington as a rebel, regard even the enfranchisement of America as one of those events consecrated by history and by past ages. Such is the veneration excited by great characters. The American Revolution, the contemporary of our own, is fixed for ever. Washington began it with energy, and finished it with moderation. He knew how to maintain it, pursuing always the prosperity of his country; and his aim alone will justify, at the tribunal of the Most High, enterprises so extraordinary.

“To pronounce the eulogy of the hero of America, requires the sublimest eloquence of the first of orators. I reflect, with sentiments of admiration, that this Temple, ornamented with the trophies of valor, was raised up in an age of genius—an age which produced as many great writers as illustrious commanders. Then, the memory of heroes was intrusted to orators whose genius gave immortality. Now, military glory shines with lustre, and in every country the glory of the fine arts is shrouded in darkness. My voice is too feeble to be heard on an occasion so solemn and momentous, and so new to me. But as that voice is pure—as it has never flattered any species of tyranny—it has never been rendered unworthy of celebrating heroism and virtue.”

“Nevertheless, these funeral and military honors will speak to all hearts. It needs not the aid of speech, to raise strong and indescribable emotions. The mourning which the First Consul orders for Washington, declares to France that Washington's example is not lost. It is less for the illustrious general, than for the benefactor and friend of a great people, that the crape of mourning now covers our banners and the uniform of our warriors. Neither do we prepare that unmeaning pomp, so contrary to policy and humanity, in which insult is offered to misfortune, contempt to venerable ruins, and calumny to the tomb. Every exalted idea, every useful truth, is seen in this assembly. I speak, before warriors, the honorable praise of a warrior, firm in adversity, modest in victory, and magnanimous in every stage of fortune.

“Before the ministers of the French republic I speak the praises of a man whom ambition never swayed and whose every care tended to the welfare of his country; a man who, unlike others that have changed empires, lived in peace in his native land; and in that land which he had freed, and in which he had held the highest rank, died as a simple individual.

“General Washington offers examples not less worthy of imitation. Amid all the disorders of camps, amid all the excesses inseparable from a civil war, humanity took refuge in his tent, and was never repulsed. In triumph and in defeat, he was always as tranquil as wisdom, as simple as virtue. The finer feelings of the heart never abandoned him, even in those moments when his own interest would seem to justify a recurrence to the laws of vengeance....

“It is these extraordinary men, who appear at intervals on this vast scene, with characters commanding and illustrious. An unknown and superior cause sends them when it is fit, to lay the foundations of new or to build up the ruins of old empires. It is in vain that these men step aside or mingle with the crowd. Destiny leads them on; they are carried from obstacle to obstacle, from triumph to triumph, until they arrive at the summit of power. Something supernatural animates all their thoughts. An irresistible movement is given to all their enterprises. The multitude still seek them among themselves, and find them not; they raise their eyes, and see in a sphere, dazzling with light and glory, those whom their ignorance and envy would call rash.

“Washington had not those high and commanding traits which strike every mind. He displayed more order and justice, than force and elevation, in his ideas. He possessed, above all, in an eminent degree, that quality which some call vulgar, but which very few possess—that quality not less useful to the government of states than to the conduct of life, and which gives more tranquillity than emotion to the soul, and more happiness than glory to those who possess it. It is of good sense that I speak. Audacity destroys, genius elevates, good sense preserves and perfects. Genius is charged with the glory of empires; but good sense alone assures their safety and repose. His end portrayed all the domestic virtues, as his life had been an illustrious example in war and politics. America regarded with respect the mansion which contained her defender. From that retreat, where so much glory dwelt, sage counsels issued, which had no less weight than in the days of his power. But death has swept all away; he died in the midst of those occupations which sweeten domestic life, and support us in the infirmities of age.

“From every part of that America he delivered, the cry of grief is heard. It belonged to France to echo back the mournful sound; it ought to vibrate on every generous heart. The shade of Washington, on entering beneath this lofty dome, will find a Turenne, a Catinat, a Condé, all of whom have fixed their habitation here. If these illustrious warriors had not served in the same cause during life, yet the fame of all will unite them in death. Opinions, subject to the caprices of the world and to time—opinions, weak and changeable, the inheritance of humanity—vanish on the tomb; but glory and virtue live for ever. When departed from this stage, the great men of every age and of every place become in some measure compatriots and contemporaries. They form but one family in the memory of the living; and their examples are renewed in every successive age. Thus, within these walls, the valor of Washington attracts the regard of Condé; his modesty is applauded by Turenne; his philosophy draws him to the bosom of Catinat. A people who admit the ancient dogma of a transmigration of souls will often confess that the soul of Catinat dwells in the bosom of Washington.

“The voice of Republicanism, which resounds from every part of these walls, ought to please, above all, the defenders of America. Can they not love these soldiers who, after their example, repelled the enemies of their country? We approach with pleasure those veterans, whose trophies add lustre to these walls, and some of whom have gained laurels with Washington in the wilds of Carolina and Virginia.

“But there is something more due to the memory of Washington: it is the union of France and America.[150] It is the happiness of each; it is peace between the two nations. It now seems to me that Washington calls to all France from the very summit of this dome: 'Magnanimous people! you, who know so well how to honor glory, I have conquered for independence; the happiness of my country was the reward of that victory. Imitate not the first half of my life; it is the second that recommends me to posterity.'

“Yes, thy counsels shall be heard, O Washington! O warrior! O legislator! O citizen without reproach! He who, while yet young, rivals thee in battles, shall, like thee, with his triumphant hands, heal the wounds of his country. Even now we have his disposition, his character, for the pledge; and his warlike genius, unfortunately necessary, shall soon lead sweet Peace into this temple of War. Then the sentiment of universal joy shall obliterate the remembrance of oppression and injustice. Already the oppressed forget their ills, in looking to the future. The acclamations of every age will be offered to the hero who gives happiness to France, and seeks to restore it to a contending world.”

[150] The new American envoys were then in Paris, on a mission of reconciliation and brotherhood.

CHAPTER XLIII.

TOP

WASHINGTON'S CHARACTER.

Our chronicle of the career of Washington is finished. We have traced the details of that career, from his birth through all the vicissitudes of an eventful life of more than sixty years, with conscientious fidelity to truth and justice.

We have seen him first a generous, truthful boy; and then a handsome, robust, manly youth, perfectly self-reliant, bearing the implements of a professional surveyor's vocation through the forests of Virginia, and gaining that knowledge of woodcraft which afterward proved of essential service to him.

We have seen him, at the age of twenty-one years, traversing a portion of the same wilderness and beyond, bearing the commission and responsibilities of a military officer, and intrusted with service the most delicate yet most arduous, requiring for its performance the combined abilities of pioneer, soldier, and diplomat. We have seen him returning, crowned with success, and receiving the applause of his countrymen.

We have seen him, a little later, leading a military expedition into that wilderness, to roll back a wave of French encroachment supported by deluded savages, and exhibiting the wisdom of a veteran in his marches, conflicts, and retreats. And, later still, we have seen him wisely advising a British general how to fight, but to be answered with contempt. We have seen him left to act upon the principles involved in that advice, when his commander was laid low, and permitted to save, by most brave and judicious management, the remnant of the broken army.

We have seen him in other campaigns of that old French and Indian War, always judicious, brave, and successful, and always evidently God-protected; and we have seen that devotion to his country rewarded by the love and admiration of his fellow-men, and the affections and fortune of one of the loveliest of Virginia's daughters who became his wife, and was his companion, solace, and joy, during the remaining forty years of his life.

We have seen him a chosen member of the Virginia house of burgesses year after year, always remarkable for his wisdom, his patriotism, and his prudence; always conservative, yet never lagging when a crisis demanded action—one of the most decisive when reconciliation with the mother-country was evidently impossible, and a resort to arms absolutely necessary.

We have seen him at the kindling of that war, a sage and influential member of the grand national council; and soon afterward called by that body to the supreme leadership of the armies formed to fight for liberty and independence. We have seen him so devoted to the high and holy trust committed to his case, that for more than six years he never crossed the threshold of his delightful mansion on the Potomac, where he had enjoyed many long years of connubial happiness, the pleasures of social intercourse, and the delights of rural pursuits.

We have seen him at the close of a successful seven years' war for independence, venerated and almost worshipped by a grateful people, refusing a proffered crown, resigning his commission into the hands of the power that gave it, and retiring to private life at his own dear Mount Vernon. And we have seen him in that delightful retreat, entertaining friends and strangers with the most generous hospitality, and receiving the homage of the great and the good of all lands.

We have seen him called from that retirement to take the lead in the formation of a new code of organic laws for the government of the infant nation in whose nativity he had performed the most conspicuous part; and then, by the spontaneous voice of the whole people, summoned to the helm of state under that more perfect form of government which he and his compatriots had devised. We have seen him as the chief magistrate of the republic, firm almost beyond precedent in his loyalty to the best interests of his country, unmoved by the appeals of sympathy, unseduced by the wiles of politicians, unappalled by the shocks of faction and the surges of popular commotions. We have seen him leave the cares and honors of office, even while the nation was imploring him to remain, and retiring to private life with the blessed assurance of repose and a serene old age. We have seen him leaving that repose at the call of the people, and again cheerfully preparing to serve his country, as the leader of its armies, to repel hostile invasion. And we have seen him go down into the grave, without any of the infirmities of old age—with step elastic, eye undimmed, countenance fresh and youthful in appearance, and intellect unclouded, until the last—leaving to his countrymen the image of an almost perfect man, in all the beautiful proportions of mental, moral, and physical vigor, while the world lamented, and eulogy found him one of its noblest and most suggestive themes.

It remains for us now to consider his character and his habits of life in the social relations. Historians, biographers, essayists, and personal friends, have drawn pictures of that wonderful man (whose proportions, in comparison of others, grow more colossal every day) with pencils somewhat partial, perhaps, as is natural, but graphic and generally truthful. It is not for us, at this remote distance from the period and theatre of his life, to attempt to delineate him with any expectation of improving upon these originals. We will be content to group some of their pictures, in whole and in part, in such a way, that all knowledge essential to a just appreciation of the whole character of Washington may be obtained by the reader who may have followed us in the long narrative of his public life, recorded on the pages of these volumes. In making up the group, we shall borrow freely from the limners, beginning with the graphic outline of one of his most devoted and well-appreciated personal friends, and his first biographer, Chief-Justice Marshall.

“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 difficulty 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 adapted 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 the 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 number, 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 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.

“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 of 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 that 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 theatre of public action whose integrity was more incorruptible, or whose principles were more perfectly free from the contaminations 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 for ever exists between wisdom and cunning, and the importance as well as truth of the maxim, '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. To 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 intruded 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 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.

“Washington's character, so perfect in its harmonious combination of the best and greatest qualities that constitute the true man, has endured the test of criticism for three quarters of a century; and every time it passes through the crucible of severe analysis, in the hands of masters, it appears more perfect than before the ordeal. To this task the best minds of Europe have brought their keenest powers of research, and the conclusion is always the same.”

“The bold and successful passages of the Delaware, and the surprise of the Hessians,” says one of our most accomplished essayists, “awaked in Frederick of Prussia the sympathy and high appreciation which he manifested by the gift of a sword, with an inscription exclusively in praise of Washington's generalship. The moderation of his nature, the heroic balance of his soul, whereby elation was kept in abeyance in the hour of success, not less nobly than despair in the day of misfortune, attracted the French philosopher, habituated as he was, in the history of his own nation, to the association of warlike and civic fame with the extremes of zeal and indifference, of violence and caprice. In his estimation, the good sense and moral consistency of Washington and his compatriots naturally offered the most remarkable problem. Accordingly, Guizot bears witness chiefly to this unprecedented union of comprehensive designs and prudential habits, of aspiration and patience, in the character of Washington; and, doubtless through the contrast with the restless ambition which marks the lives of his own illustrious countrymen, is mainly struck with the fact that, 'while capable of rising to the level of the highest destiny, he might have lived in ignorance of his real power, without suffering from it.' The Italian patriot, obliged to vent his love of country in terse dramatic colloquies, and through the lips of dead heroes, is thrilled with the grand possibilities of action, through the realization of his sentiments by achievement, opened to Washington. Even the poor Indians, so often cajoled out of their rights as to be thoroughly incredulous of good faith among the pale-faces, made him an exception to their rooted distrust. 'The white men are bad,' said an aboriginal chief, in his council-speech, 'and can not dwell in the region of the Great Spirit, except Washington.' And Lord Brougham, in a series of analytical biographies of the renowned men of the last and present century, which indicate a deep study and philosophical estimate of human greatness, closes his sketch of Washington by the emphatic assertion that the test of the progress of mankind will be their appreciation of his character.”[151]

At his installation as chancellor of the University of Edinburgh, in the spring of 1860, Lord Brougham, in his address, after speaking of Napoleon and Wellington, said: “But in Washington we may contemplate every excellence, military and civil, applied to the service of his country and of mankind—a triumphant warrior, unshaken in confidence when the most sanguine had a right to despair; a successful ruler in all the difficulties of a course wholly untried—directing the formation of a new government for a great people, the first time so vast an experiment had ever been tried by man; voluntarily and unostentatiously retiring from supreme power with the veneration of all parties, of all nations, of all mankind, that the rights of men may be conserved, and that his example might never be appealed to by vulgar tyrants. It will be the duty of the historian and the sage, in all ages, to omit no occasion of commemorating this illustrious man; and until time shall be no more, will a test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom and in virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of Washington.”

One of the most beautiful of the many eulogies of the Great Patriot was written, soon after his death, by an unknown hand (supposed to be that of an English gentleman), on the back of a cabinet profile likeness of Washington, executed in crayon, by Sharpless. It is in the form of a monumental inscription. The following is a copy of it:—

WASHINGTON,
The Defender of his Country,
The Founder of Liberty,
The Friend of Man.
History and Tradition are explored in vain
For a Parallel to his Character.
In the Annals of Modern Greatness
He stands alone,
And the noblest Names of Antiquity
Lose their Lustre in his Presence.

Born the Benefactor of Mankind,
He was signally Endowed with all the Qualities
Appropriate to his Illustrious Career.
Nature made him Great,
And, Heaven-directed,
He made himself Virtuous.

Called by his Country to the Defence of her Soil,
And the Vindication of her Liberties,
He led to the Field
Her Patriot Armies;
And, displaying in rapid and brilliant succession
The United Powers
Of Consummate Prudence and Heroic Valor,
He triumphed in Arms
Over the most powerful Nation of Modern Europe;
His Sword giving Freedom to America,
His Counsels breathing Peace to the World.

After a short repose
From the tumultuous Vicissitudes
Of a sanguinary War,
The astounding Energies of
Washington
Were again destined to a New Course
Of Glory and Usefulness.
The Civic Wreath
Was spontaneously placed
By the Gratitude of the Nation
On the Brow of the Deliverer of his Country.
He was twice solemnly invested
With the Powers of Supreme Magistracy,
By the Unanimous Voice of
A Free People;
And in his Exalted and Arduous Station,
His Wisdom in the Cabinet
Transcended the Glories of the Field.

The Destinies of Washington
Were now complete.
Having passed the Meridian of a Devoted Life,
Having founded on the Pillars
Of National Independence
The Splendid Fabric
Of a Great Republic,
And having firmly Established
The Empire of the West,
He solemnly deposited on the Altar of his Country
His Laurels and his Sword,
And retired to the Shades
Of Private Life.
A Spectacle so New and so Sublime,
Was contemplated by Mankind
With the Profoundest Admiration;
And the Name of Washington,
Adding new Lustre to Humanity,
Resounded
To the remotest Regions of the Earth.

Magnanimous in Youth,
Glorious through Life,
Great in Death,
His highest Ambition
The Happiness of Mankind,
His noblest Victory
The Conquest of Himself.
Bequeathing to America
The Inheritance of his Fame,
And building his Monument
In the Hearts of his Countrymen,
He Lived,
The Ornament of the Eighteenth Century;
He Died,
Lamented by a Mourning World.

FOOTNOTES:

[151] Essays, Biographical and Critical; or, Studies of Character. By Henry T. Tuckerman.

CHAPTER XLIV.

WASHINGTON'S HABITS AND PERSONAL APPEARANCE.

Washington, as we have observed in the earlier portion of this work, was passionately fond of field-sports; and during the first years of his married life, and even to the kindling of the Revolution, he frequently indulged in the pleasures of the chase. He was an admirable equestrian, but was not a successful sportsman. He engaged in the chase more for the pleasure produced by the excitement, than for the honors of success. He had quite a large kennel of hounds, and a fine stud of horses. Of these he kept, with his own hand, a careful register, in which might be found the names, ages, and marks of each. With these, his companions of the chase, he was as carefully punctual in his attentions as to any other business of his life. Among the names of his horses were those of Chinkling, Valiant, Ajax, Magnolia, Blueskin, etc. Magnolia was a full-blooded Arabian, and was used for the saddle upon the road. Among the names of his hounds were Vulcan, Ringwood, Singer, Truelove, Music, Sweetlips, Forester, Rockwood, etc. It was his pride (and a proof of his skill in hunting) to have his pack so critically drafted, as to speed and bottom, that in running, if one leading dog should lose the scent, another was at hand immediately to recover it; and thus, when in full cry, to use a racing-phrase, you might “cover the pack with a blanket.”

Mr. Custis, in his Recollections of Washington, has given some interesting incidents of his life as a sportsman. “During the season,” he says, “Mount Vernon had many sporting guests from the neighborhood, from Maryland, and elsewhere. Their visits were not of days, but weeks; and they were entertained in the good old style of Virginia's ancient hospitality. Washington, always superbly mounted, in true sporting costume, of blue coat, scarlet waistcoat, buckskin breeches, top-boots, velvet cap, and whip with long thong, took the field at daybreak, with his huntsman, Will Lee, his friends and neighbors.” They usually hunted three times a week, if the weather was favorable.

On the hunting-mornings, breakfast was served at candlelight. Washington seldom partook of anything but Indian-corn cakes and milk. At dawn the whole cavalcade would leave Mount Vernon, and frequently before sunrise the dogs would be in full cry after a fox, Washington usually rode a horse named Blueskin, a fiery animal, of great endurance, and of a dark, iron-gray color. Billy (who was Washington's body-servant during the war) always kept with the hounds; “and, mounted on Chinkling, says Custis, “a French horn at his back, throwing himself almost at length on the animal, with his spurs in flank, this fearless horseman would rush at full speed, through brake and tangled wood, in a style at which modern huntsmen would stand aghast.” When the chase was ended, the party would return to Mount Vernon to dinner, where other than sporting guests were frequently assembled to greet them. The table was always furnished generously; and the expensive style in which Washington kept up his establishment before the Revolution may be inferred from an entry in his diary, in 1768, in which he says, “Would any one believe that, with a hundred and one cows, actually reported at a late enumeration of the cattle, I should still be obliged to buy butter for my family?” During the war, these pleasures were suspended, nor was the sporting establishment ever revived, to any great extent. Lafayette sent Washington some hounds in 1785, but increasing private and public duties caused the master of Mount Vernon to neglect the pleasures in which he once took such delight.

It must not be supposed that, during those years of social enjoyment, Washington neglected any duties. As a member of the Virginia house of burgesses, he was assiduous, punctual, and faithful. As a farmer, he was careful, prudent, and skilful; and he managed his estate of eight thousand acres with such signal industry and ability, that he was considered a model agriculturist. He did not leave his farms to the entire care of his overseers. He continually exercised a general supervision of his affairs, except when absent on public business; and even then, through weekly reports, which he required his manager to transmit to him regularly, he had a perfect knowledge of all operations, and sometimes gave lengthy and minute directions.

While Washington's table was always bountifully supplied for his guests, he seldom partook of those preparations of the cook which specially please the appetite. He was very abstemious, and never indulged to excess in eating or drinking. His breakfast-hour was seven o'clock in summer, and eight in winter. He usually made a frugal meal of Indian cakes, honey, and tea or coffee, then mounted his horse and visited every part of his estate, where the current operations seemed to require his presence, leaving his guests to enjoy themselves with books and papers, or otherwise, according to their choice. He rode upon his farms entirely unattended, opening the gates, pulling down and putting up the “bars,” and inspecting with careful eye every agricultural operation. Sometimes the tour of his farms in the course of the morning might average, in distance, twelve or fifteen miles. The late Mr. Custis has left on record a description of his appearance on one of these occasions, in the latter years of his life, which he gave to a gentleman who was out in search of Washington. “You will meet, sir" said young Custis to the inquirer, “with an old gentleman riding alone, in plain drab clothes, a broad-brimmed white hat, a hickory switch in his hand, and carrying an umbrella with a long staff, which is attached to his saddle-bow—that person, sir, is General Washington.”

He dined at three o'clock, when he always ate heartily, but of simple food. His usual beverage was small-beer and cider, and Madeira wine. Of the latter he often drank several small glasses at a sitting. He took tea and toast, or a little well-baked bread, early in the evening; conversed with or read to his family when there were no guests; and usually, whether there was company or not, retired for the night at about nine o'clock. He was an early riser, and might be found in his library from one to two hours before daylight in winter, and at dawn in summer. His toilet, plain and simple, was soon made. A single servant prepared his clothes, and laid them in a proper place at night, for use in the morning. He always dressed and shaved himself, and a servant combed and tied his hair. Always neat in his dress and appearance, yet he never wasted precious moments upon his toilet; for he regarded time, not as a gift, but a loan, for which he must account to the Great Master.

The economy practised at Mount Vernon was always exercised by Washington while in public office. He had engaged Samuel Fraunces, the noted innkeeper in New York, as the steward of his household when he was president of the United States. “We are happy to inform our readers,” said Fenno's Gazette, “that the president is determined to pursue that system of regularity and economy in his household which has always marked his public and private life. As a proof of this, we learn that the steward is obliged, by his articles of agreement, to exhibit weekly a fair statement of the receipts and expenditures of moneys by him, for and on account of the president's household, to such person as the president may appoint to inspect the same; together with the several bills and receipts of payment for those articles which may be purchased by him, when such bills and receipts can be obtained. And it is likewise strongly inculcated on the steward to guard against any waste or extravagance that might be committed by the servants of the family.”[152]

The late Reverend Ashbel Green has left on record the following personal reminiscences of Washington during his residence in Philadelphia as chief magistrate of the nation: “After a great deal of talking, and writing, and controversy, about the permanent seat of Congress, under the present constitution, it was determined that Philadelphia should be honored with its presence for ten years, and that afterward its permanent location should be in the city of Washington, where it now is. In the meantime, the federal city was in building; and the legislature of Pennsylvania voted a sum of money to build a house for the president—perhaps with some hope that this might help to keep the seat of the general government in the capital, for Philadelphia was then considered as the capital of the state. What was lately the University of Pennsylvania, was the structure erected for this purpose. But as soon as General Washington saw its dimensions, and a good while before it was finished, he let it be known that he would not occupy it—that he should certainly not go to the expense of purchasing suitable furniture for such a dwelling; for it is to be understood, in those days of stern republicanism, nobody thought of Congress furnishing the president's house; or, if perchance such a thought did enter into some aristocratic head, it was too unpopular to be uttered.

“President Washington, therefore, rented a house of Mr. Robert Morris, in Market street, between Fifth and Sixth streets, on the south side, and furnished it handsomely, but not gorgeously. There he lived, with Mrs. Washington; Mr. Lear (his private secretary) and his wife, and Mrs. Washington's grandchildren, making a part of the family. Young Custis had a private tutor, employed by the president, who was engaged to attend on his pupil one hour in the winter mornings, before breakfast; and who, then, commonly breakfasted with the president and his family. The president ate Indian-cakes for breakfast, after the Virginia fashion, although buckwheat-cakes were generally on the table. Washington's dining parties were entertained in a very handsome style. His weekly dining-day, for company, was Thursday, and his dining-hour was always four o'clock in the afternoon. His rule was, to allow five minutes for the variation of clocks and watches, and then go to the table, be present or absent whoever might. He kept his own clock in the hall, just within the outward door, and always exactly regulated. When lagging members of Congress came in, as they often did, after the guests had sat down to dinner, the president's only apology was, 'Gentlemen (or sir), we are too punctual for you. I have a cook who never asks whether the company has come, but whether the hour has come,' The company usually assembled in the drawing-room, about fifteen or twenty minutes before dinner, and the president spoke to every guest personally on entering the room.

“He was always dressed in a suit of black, his hair powdered and tied in a black queue behind, with a very elegant dress-sword, which he wore with inimitable grace. Mrs. Washington often, but not always, dined with the company, sat at the head of the table, and if, as was occasionally the case, there were other ladies present, they sat each side of her. The private secretary sat at the foot of the table, and was expected to be quietly attentive to all the guests. The president himself sat half way from the head to the foot of the table, and on that side he would place Mrs. Washington, though distant from him, on his right hand. He always, unless a clergyman was present, at his own table, asked a blessing, in a standing posture. If a clergyman were present, he was requested both to ask a blessing, and to return thanks after dinner. The centre of the table contained five or six large silver or plated waiters, those of the ends circular or rather oval on one side, so as to make the arrangement correspond with the oval shape of the table. The waiters between the end-pieces were in the form of parallelograms, the ends about one third part of the length of the sides; and the whole of these waiters were filled with alabaster figures, taken from the ancient mythology, but none of them such as to offend, in the smallest degree, against delicacy. On the outside of the oval, formed by the waiters, were placed the various dishes, always without covers; and outside the dishes were the plates. A small roll of bread, enclosed in a napkin, was laid by the side of each plate. The president, it is believed, generally dined on one dish, and that of a very simple-kind. If offered something, either in the first or second course, which was very rich, his usual reply was, 'That is too good for me.' He had a silver pint cup or mug of beer placed by his plate, which he drank while dining. He took one glass of wine during dinner, and commonly one after. He then retired (the ladies having gone a little before him), and left his secretary to superintend the table till the wine-bibbers of Congress had satisfied themselves with drinking. His wines were always the best that could be obtained. Nothing could exceed the order with which his table was served. Every servant knew what he was to do, and did it in the most quiet and yet rapid manner. The dishes and plates were removed and changed with a silence and speed that seemed like enchantment.”

Washington's personal appearance, and deportment in public and private life, have often been the theme of description. In the year 1790, an English gentleman, of intelligence and culture, was a guest at the presidential mansion, in New York, after Washington had left Franklin square, and taken up his abode in “M'Comb's house,” on the west side of Broadway, near Trinity church. The following account of that visit, supposed to be from the pen of Hazlitt, appeared in the London New Monthly Magazine: “I remember my father telling me he was introduced to Washington, in 1790, by an American friend. A servant, well looking and well dressed, received the visitants at the door, and by him they were delivered over to an officer of the United States service, who ushered them into the drawing-room, in which Mrs. Washington and several ladies were seated. There was nothing remarkable in the person of the lady of the president; she was matronly and kind, with perfect good breeding. She at once entered into easy conversation, asked how long he had been in America, how he liked the country, and such other familiar but general questions. In a few minutes the general was in the room. It was not necessary to announce his name, for his peculiar appearance, his firm forehead, Roman nose, and a projection of the lower jaw, his height and figure, could not be mistaken by any one who had seen a full-length picture of him, and yet no picture accurately resembled him in the minute traits of his person. His features, however, were so marked by prominent characteristics, which appear in all likenesses of him, that a stranger could not be mistaken in the man. He was remarkably dignified in his manners, and had an air of benignity over his features which his visitant did not expect, being rather prepared for sternness of countenance.

“After an introduction by Mrs. Washington, without more form than common good manners prescribes, 'he requested me,' said my father, 'to be seated; and, taking a chair himself, entered at once into conversation. His manner was full of affability. He asked how I liked the country, the city of New York; talked of the infant institutions of America, and the advantages she offered, by her intercourse, for benefiting other nations. He was grave in manner, but perfectly easy. His dress was of purple satin. There was a commanding air in his appearance which excited respect, and forbade too great a freedom toward him, independently of that species of awe which is always felt in the moral influence of a great character. In every movement, too, there was a polite gracefulness equal to any met with in the most polished individuals in Europe, and his smile was extraordinarily attractive. It was observed to me that there was an expression in Washington's face that no painter had succeeded in taking. It struck me no man could be better formed for command. A stature of six feet, a robust but well-proportioned frame, calculated to sustain fatigue, without that heaviness which generally attends great muscular strength and abates active exertion, displayed bodily power of no mean standard. A light eye and full—the very eye of genius and reflection, rather than of blind, passionate impulse. His nose appeared thick, and, though it befitted his other features, was too coarsely and strongly formed to be the handsomest of its class. His mouth was like no other that I ever saw; the lips firm, and the under jaw seeming to grasp the upper with force, as if its muscles were in full action when he sat still. Neither with the general nor with Mrs. Washington was there the slightest restraint of ceremony. There was less of it than I ever recollect to have met with where perfect good breeding and manners were at the same time observed. To many remarks Washington assented with a smile or inclination of the head, as if he were by nature sparing in his conversation, and I am inclined to think this was the case. An allusion was made to a serious fit of illness he had recently suffered; but he took no notice of it. I could not help remarking that America must have looked with anxiety to the termination of his indisposition. He made no reply to my compliment but by an inclination of the head. His bow at my taking leave I shall never forget. It was the last movement which I saw that illustrious character make, as my eyes took their leave of him for ever, and it hangs a perfect picture upon my recollection. The house of Washington was in the Broadway, and the street front was handsome. The drawing-room in which I sat was lofty and spacious; but the furniture was not beyond that found in dwellings of opulent Americans in general, and might be called plain for its situation. The upper end of the room had glass doors, which opened upon a balcony, commanding an extensive view of the Hudson river, interspersed with islands, and the Jersey shore on the opposite side. A grandson and daughter resided constantly in the house with the general, and a nephew of the general's, married to a niece of Mrs. Washington, resided at Mount Vernon, the general's family-seat in Virginia; his residence, as president, keeping him at the seat of government.' The levees held by Washington, as president, were generally crowded, and held on Tuesday, between three and four o'clock. The president stood, and received the bow of the person presented, who retired to make way for another. At the drawing-room, Mrs. Washington received the ladies, who courtesied, and passed aside without exchanging a word. Tea and coffee, with refreshments of all kinds, were laid in one part of the rooms; and, before the individuals of the company retired, each lady was a second time led up to the lady-president, made her second silent obeisance, and departed. Nothing could be more simple, yet it was enough.”

The late Mr. Custis, in his Recollections of Washington, says: “With all its developments of muscular power, the form of Washington had no appearance of bulkiness; and so harmonious were its proportions, that he did not appear so passing tall as his portraits have represented. He was rather spare than full during his whole life; this is readily ascertained from his weight. The last time he weighed was in the summer of 1799, when, having made the tour of his farms, accompanied by an English gentleman, he called at his mill and was weighed. The writer placed the weight in the scales. The Englishman, not so tall, but stout, square built, and fleshy, weighed heavily, and expressed much surprise that the general had not outweighed him, when Washington observed that the best weight of his best days never exceeded from two hundred and ten to two hundred and twenty pounds. In the instance alluded to, he weighed a little rising two hundred and ten. In the prime of life, Washington stood six feet two inches, and measured precisely six feet when attired for the grave.

“The power of Washington's arm was displayed in several memorable instances: in his throwing a stone from the bed of the stream to the top of the Natural Bridge; another over the Palisades into the Hudson; and yet another across the Rappahannock, at Fredericksburg. Of the article with which he spanned this noble and navigable stream, there are various accounts. We are assured that it was a piece of slate, fashioned to about the size and shape of a dollar, and which, sent by an arm so strong, not only spanned the river, but took the ground at least thirty yards on the other side. Numbers have since tried this feat, but none have cleared the water. 'Tis the 'Douglas cast,' made in the days when Virginia's men were strong, as her maids are fair; when the hardy sports of the gymnasium prepared the body to answer the 'trumpet-call to war,' and gave vigor and elevation to the mind; while our modern habits would rather fit the youth 'to caper nimbly in a lady's chamber.'

“While the late and venerable Charles Willson Peale was at Mount Vernon, in 1772, engaged in painting the portrait of the provincial colonel, some young men were contending in the exercise of pitching the bar. Washington looked on for a time, then grasping the missile in his master-hand, whirled the iron through the air, which took the ground far, very far, beyond any of its former limits; the colonel observing, with a smile, 'You perceive, young gentlemen, that my arm yet retains some portion of the vigor of my earlier days.' He was then in his fortieth year, and probably in the full meridian of his physical powers; but those powers became rather mellowed than decayed by time, for 'his age was like a lusty winter, frosty yet kindly;' and, up to his sixty-eighth year, he mounted a horse with surprising agility, and rode with the ease and gracefulness of his better days. His personal prowess, that elicited the admiration of a people who have nearly all passed from the stage of life, still serves as a model for the manhood of modern times.

“In the various exhibitions of Washington's great physical powers, they were apparently attended by scarcely any effort. On one occasion, when quite a young man, he was present while others were trying their strength in wrestling. He had retired to the shade of a tree, intent upon the perusal of a favorite volume; and it was only when the champion of the games strode through the ring, calling for nobler competitors, and taunting the student with the reproach that it was the fear of encountering so redoubted an antagonist that kept him from the ring, that Washington closed his book, and, without divesting himself of his coat, calmly walked into the arena, observing that fear formed no part of his being. Then, grappling with the champion, the struggle was fierce, but momentary, 'for,' said the vanquished hero of the arena, 'in Washington's lion-like grasp, I became powerless, and was hurled to the ground with a force that seemed to jar the very marrow in my bones;' while the victor, regardless of the shouts that proclaimed his triumph, leisurely retired to his shade, and the enjoyment of his favorite volume.

“Washington's powers were chiefly in his limbs: they were long, large, and sinewy. His frame was of equal breadth from the shoulders to the hips. His chest, though broad and expansive, was not prominent, but rather hollowed in the centre. He had suffered from a pulmonary affection in early life, from which he never entirely recovered. His frame showed an extraordinary development of bone and muscle; his joints were large, as were his feet; and could a cast have been preserved of his hand, to be exhibited in these degenerate days, it would be said to have belonged to the being of a fabulous age. During Lafayette's visit to Mount Vernon in 1825, he said to the writer: 'I never saw so large a hand on any human being, as the general's. It was in this portico, in 1784, that you were introduced to me by the general. You were a very little gentleman, with a feather in your hat, and holding fast to one finger of the good general's remarkable hand, which was all you could do, my dear sir, at that time.'”

A late anonymous writer says: “I saw this remarkable man four times. It was in the month of November, 1798, I first beheld the Father of his Country. It was very cold, the northwest wind blowing hard down the Potomac, at Georgetown, D. C. A troop of light-horse, from Alexandria, escorted him to the western bank of the river. The waves ran high, and the boat which brought him over seemed to labor considerably. Several thousand people greeted his arrival with swelling hearts and joyful countenances. The military were drawn up in a long line to receive him; the officers, pressed in regimentals, did him homage. I was so fortunate as to walk by his side, and had a full view of him. Although only about ten years of age, the impression his person and manner then made on me is now perfectly revived. He was six feet and one inch high, broad and athletic, with very large limbs, entirely erect, and without the slightest tendency to stooping; his hair was white, and tied with a silk string; his countenance lofty, masculine, and contemplative; his eye light gray. He was dressed in the clothes of a citizen, and over these a blue surtout of the finest cloth. His weight must have been two hundred and thirty pounds, with no superfluous flesh; all was bone and sinew; and he walked like a soldier. Whoever has seen, in the patent-office at Washington, the dress he wore when resigning his commission as commander-in-chief, in December, 1783, at once perceives how large and magnificent was his frame. During the parade, something at a distance suddenly attracted his attention; his eye was instantaneously lighted up as with the lightning's flash. At this moment I see its marvellous animation, its glowing fire, exhibiting strong passion, controlled by deliberate reason.

“In the summer of 1799, I again saw the chief. He rode a purely white horse, seventeen hands high, well proportioned, of high spirit: he almost seemed conscious that he bore on his back the Father of his Country. He reminded me of the war-horse whose 'neck is clothed with thunder.' I have seen some highly-accomplished riders, but not one of them approached Washington; he was perfect in this respect. Behind him, at the distance of perhaps forty yards, came Billy Lee, his body-servant, who had perilled his life in many a field, beginning on the heights of Boston, in 1775, and ending in 1781, when Cornwallis surrendered, and the captive army, with inexpressible chagrin, laid down their arms at Yorktown. Billy rode a cream-colored horse, of the finest form; and his old Revolutionary cocked hat indicated that its owner had often heard the roar of cannon and small-arms, and had encountered many trying scenes. Billy was a dark mulatto. His master speaks highly of him in his will, and provides for his support.

“Some time during this year, perhaps, I saw him at Seeme's tavern, in Georgetown. The steps, porch, and street, were crowded with persons desirous of beholding the man. I viewed him through a window. The most venerable, dignified, and wealthy men of the town were there, some conversing with him. Washington seemed almost a different being from any of them, and, indeed, from any other person ever reared in this country. His countenance was not so animated as when I first saw him, for then his complexion was as ruddy as if he were only twenty years old.

“A few months before his death, I beheld this extraordinary man for the last time. He stopped at the tavern opposite the Presbyterian church, in Bridge street, Georgetown. At that time, a regiment of soldiers was stationed in their tents, on the banks of Rock creek, and frequently attended Doctor Balch's church, dressed in their costume, and powdered after the Revolutionary fashion. I attended their parade almost every day; and, on one of these occasions, I recognised Washington riding on horseback, unaccompanied by any one. He was going out to see his houses on Capitol hill, as I supposed. They were burnt by the British, in 1814. My youthful eye was riveted on him until he disappeared, and that for ever. I was surprised that he did not once look at the parade, so far as I could discover; on the contrary, he appeared indifferent to the whole scene.”

“Of the remarkable degree of awe and reverence that the presence of Washington always inspired,” says Mr. Custis, “we shall give one out of a thousand instances. During the cantonment of the American army at the Valley Forge, some officers of the fourth Pennsylvania regiment were engaged in a game of 'fives.' In the midst of their sport, they discovered the commander-in-chief leaning upon the enclosure, and beholding the game with evident satisfaction. In a moment, all things were changed. The ball was suffered to roll idly away; the gay laugh and joyous shout of excitement were hushed into a profound silence, and the officers were gravely grouped together. It was in vain the chief begged of the players that they would proceed with their game; declared the pleasure he had experienced from witnessing their skill; spoke of a proficiency in the manly exercise that he himself could have boasted of in other days. All would not do. Not a man could be induced to move, till the general, finding that his presence hindered the officers from continuing the amusement, bowed, and, wishing them good sport, retired.”

A writer in the National Intelligencer, a few years ago, gave the following sketch of the personal appearance of Washington:—

“The description given by 'R' [a correspondent of the Intelligencer] of Washington's approach to the hall of Congress in Philadelphia, has freshly awakened my own reminiscences of the same scene. Its vivid truth can not be surpassed. I stood with him on that same stone platform, before the door of the hall, elevated by a few steps from the pavement, when the carriage of the president drew up. It was, as he describes it, white, or rather of a light cream-color, painted on the panels with beautiful groups, by Cipriani, representing the four seasons. The horses, according to my recollection, were white, in unison with the carriage, 'R.' says they were bays; perhaps he is more correct. As he alighted, and, ascending the steps, paused upon the platform, looking over his shoulder, in an attitude that would have furnished an admirable subject for the pencil, he was preceded by two gentlemen bearing long white wands, who kept back the eager crowd that pressed on every side to get a nearer view. At that moment I stood so near, that I might have touched his clothes; but I should as soon have thought of touching an electric battery. I was penetrated with a veneration amounting to the deepest awe. Nor was this the feeling of a schoolboy only; it pervaded, I believe, every human being that approached Washington; and I have been told that, even in his social and convivial hours, this feeling in those who were honored to share them never suffered intermission. I saw him a hundred times afterward, but never with any other than that same feeling. The Almighty, who raised up for our hour of need a man so peculiarly prepared for its whole dread responsibility, seems to have put an impress of sacredness upon his own instrument. The first sight of the man struck the heart with involuntary homage, and prepared everything around him to obey, When he 'addressed himself to speak,' there was an unconscious suspension of the breath, while every eye was raised in expectation.

“At the time I speak of, he stood in profound silence, and had that statue-like air which mental greatness alone can bestow. As he turned to enter the building, and was ascending the staircase leading to the Congressional hall, I glided along unperceived, almost tinder cover of the skirts of his dress, and entered instantly after him into the lobby of the house, which was of course in session to receive him. On either hand, from the entrance, stood a large cast-iron stove; and, resolved to secure the unhoped-for privilege I had so unexpectedly obtained, I clambered, boy-like, on this stove (fortunately then not much heated), and from that favorable elevation enjoyed, for the first time (what I have since so many thousands of times witnessed with comparative indifference), an uninterrupted view of the American Congress in full session, every member in his place. Shall I be pardoned for saying its aspect was very different from what we now witness? There was an air of decorum, of composure, of reflection, of gentlemanly and polished dignity, which has fled, or lingers only with here and there a 'relic of the olden time.'

“The house seemed then as composed as the senate now is when an impressive speech is in the act of delivery. On Washington's entrance, the most profound and death-like stillness prevailed. House, lobbies, gallery, all were wrapped in the deepest attention; and the souls of that entire assemblage seemed peering from their eyes on the noble figure which deliberately, and with an unaffected but surpassing majesty, advanced up the broad aisle of the hall between ranks of standing senators and members, and slowly ascended the steps leading to the speaker's chair. I well remember, standing at the head of the senate, the tall, square, somewhat gaunt form of Mr. Jefferson; conspicuous from his scarlet waistcoat, bright blue coat, with broad, bright buttons, as well as by his quick and penetrating air, and high-boned, Scottish cast of features. There, too, stood General Knox, then secretary of war, in all the sleek rotundity of his low stature, with a bold and florid face, open, firm, and manly, in its expression. But I recollect that my boyish eye was caught by the appearance of De Yrujo, the Spanish embassador. He stood in the rear of the chair, a little on one side, covered with a splendid diplomatic dress, decorated with orders, and carrying under his arm an immense chapeau-bras, edged with white ostrich-feathers. He was a man totally different in his air and manner from all around him, and the very antipode especially of the man on whom all eyes but his seemed fixed as by a spell. I saw many other very striking figures grouped about and behind the speaker's chair, but I did not know their names, and had no one to ask: besides, I dared not open my lips.

“The president, having seated himself, remained in silence, serenely contemplating the legislature before him, whose members now resumed their seats, waiting for the speech. No house of worship, in the most solemn pauses of devotion, was ever more profoundly still than that large and crowded chamber.

“Washington was dressed precisely as Stuart has painted him in Lord Lansdowne's full-length portrait—in a full suit of the richest black velvet, with diamond knee-buckles, and square silver buckles set upon shoes japanned with the most scrupulous neatness, black silk stockings, his shirt ruffled at the breast and wrists, a light dress-sword, his hair profusely powdered, fully dressed, so as to project at the sides, and gathered behind in a silk bag, ornamented with a large rose of black ribbon. He held his cocked hat, which had a large black cockade on one side of it, in his hand, as he advanced toward the chair, and, when seated, laid it on the table.

“At length, thrusting his hand within the side of his coat, he drew forth a roll of manuscript, which he opened, and rising, held it in his hand, while in a rich, deep, full, sonorous voice, he read his opening address to Congress. His enunciation was deliberate, justly emphasized, very distinct, and accompanied with an air of deep solemnity, as being the utterance of a mind profoundly impressed with the dignity of the act in which it was occupied, conscious of the whole responsibility of its position and action, but not oppressed by it. There was ever about the man something which impressed the observer with a conviction that he was exactly and fully equal to what he had to do. He was never hurried; never negligent; but seemed ever prepared for the occasion, be it what it might. If I could express his character in one word, it would be appropriateness. In his study, in his parlor, at a levee, before Congress, at the head of the army, he seemed ever to be just what the situation required him to be. He possessed, in a degree never equalled by any human being I ever saw, the strongest, most ever-present sense of propriety. It never forsook him, and deeply and involuntarily impressed itself upon every beholder. His address was of moderate length. The topics I have, of course, forgotten; indeed, I was not of an age to appreciate them: but the air, the manner, the tones, have never left my mental vision, and even now seem to vibrate on my ear.

“A scene like this, once beheld, though in earliest youth, is never to be forgotten. It must be now fifty years ago, but I could this moment sit down and sketch the chamber, the assembly, and the man.

“Having closed the reading, he laid down the scroll, and, after a brief pause, retired, as he had entered; when the manuscript was handed, for a second reading, to Mr. Beckley, then clerk of the house, whose gentlemanly manner, clear and silver voice, and sharp articulation, I shall ever associate with the scene. When shall we again behold such a Congress and such a president?”

To make the picture of the personal appearance of Washington more complete, the following, from Sullivan's Familiar Letters, is added:

“The following are recollections of Washington, derived from repeated opportunities of seeing him during the last three years of his public life. He was over six feet in stature; of strong, bony, muscular frame, without fullness of covering, well formed and straight. He was a man of most extraordinary physical strength. In his own house, his action was calm, deliberate, and dignified, without pretension to gracefulness or peculiar manner, but merely natural, and such as one would think it should be in such a man. His habitual motions had been formed before he took command of the American armies, in the wars of the interior, and in the surveying of wilderness lands, employments in which grace and elegance were not likely to be acquired. At the age of sixty-five, time had done nothing toward bending him out of his natural erectness. His deportment was invariably grave; it was sobriety that stopped short of sadness. His presence inspired a veneration and a feeling of awe rarely experienced in the presence of any man. His mode of speaking was slow and deliberate, not as though he was in search of fine words, but that he might utter those only adapted to his purpose. It was the usage of all persons in good society to attend Mrs. Washington's levee every Friday evening. He was always present. The young ladies used to throng around him, and engage him in conversation. There were some of the well-remembered belles of that day who imagined themselves to be favorites with him. As these were the only opportunities which they had of conversing with him, they were disposed to use them. One would think that a gentleman and a gallant soldier, if he could ever laugh or dress his countenance in smiles, would do so when surrounded by young and admiring beauties. But this was never so: the countenance of Washington never softened, nor changed its habitual gravity. One, who had lived always in his family, said that his manner in public life was always the same. Being asked whether Washington could laugh, this person said this was a rare occurrence, but one instance was remembered when he laughed most heartily at her narration of an incident in which she was a party concerned, and in which he applauded her agency. The late General Cobb, who was long a member of his family during the war, and who enjoyed a laugh as much as any man could, said that he never saw Washington laugh, excepting when Colonel Scammel (if this was the person) came to dine at headquarters. Scammel had a fund of ludicrous anecdotes, and a manner of telling them, which relaxed even the gravity of the commander-in-chief.

“General Cobb also said that the forms of proceeding at headquarters were exact and precise, orderly and punctual. At the appointed moment, Washington appeared at the breakfast-table. He expected to find all the members of his family (Cobb, Hamilton, Humphreys, were among them) awaiting him. He came dressed for the day, and brought with him the letters and despatches of the preceding day, and a short memoranda of the answers to be made; also the substance of orders to be issued. When breakfast was over, these papers were distributed among his aids, to be put into form. Soon afterward he mounted his horse to visit the troops, and expected to find on his return, before noon, all the papers prepared for his inspection and signature. There was no familiarity in his presence; it was all sobriety and business. His mode of life was abstemious and temperate. He had a decided preference for certain sorts of food, probably from early associations. Throughout the war, as it was understood in his military family, he gave a part of every day to private prayer and devotion.

“While he lived in Philadelphia, as president, he rose at four in the morning; and the general rule of his house was, that the fires should be covered and the lights extinguished at a certain hour: whether this was nine or ten is not recollected.

“In the early part of his administration, great complaints were made by the opposition of the aristocratic and royal demeanor of the president. Mr. Jefferson makes some commentaries on this subject, which do no credit to his heart or his head. These are too little to be transcribed from the works of this 'great and good man.' Doctor Stuart, of Virginia, wrote to him of the dissatisfaction which prevailed on this subject in Virginia. In the fifth volume of Marshall, page 164, will be found an extract of Washington's vindication of his conduct, and a most satisfactory one, which shows the proper character of Mr. Jefferson's 'Anas.' These complaints related, in particular, to the manner of receiving such visitors as came from respect or from curiosity, of which there were multitudes. The purpose of Washington was, that such visitors should accomplish their objects without a sacrifice of time, which he considered indispensable to the performance of his public duties.

“He devoted one hour every other Tuesday, from three to four, to these visits. He understood himself to be visited as the president of the United States, and not on his own account. He was then to be seen by anybody and everybody; but required that every one who came should be introduced by his secretary, or by some gentleman whom he knew himself. He lived on the south side of Chestnut street, just below Sixth. The place of reception was the dining-room in the rear, twenty-five or thirty feet in length, including the bow projecting into the garden. Mrs. Washington received visitors in the two rooms on the second floor, from front to rear.

“At three o'clock, or at any time within a quarter of an hour afterward, the visitor was conducted to this dining-room, from which all seats had been removed for the time. On entering, he saw the tall figure of Washington, clad in black velvet; his hair in full dress, powdered and gathered behind in a large silk bag; yellow gloves on his hands; holding a cocked hat, with a cockade in it, and the edges adorned with a black feather about an inch deep. He wore knee and shoe buckles; and a long sword, with a finely-wrought and polished steel hilt, which appeared at the left hip; the coat worn over the blade, and appearing from under the folds behind. The scabbard was white polished leather.

“He stood always in front of the fireplace, with his face toward the door of entrance. The visitor was conducted to him, and he required to have the name so distinctly pronounced, that he could hear it. He had the very uncommon faculty of associating a man's name and personal appearance so durably in his memory as to be able to call any one by name who made him a second visit. He received his visitor with a dignified bow, while his hands were so disposed as to indicate that the salutation was not to be accompanied with shaking hands. This ceremony never occurred in these visits, even with the most near friends, that no distinctions might be made.

“As visitors came in, they formed a circle around the room. At a quarter past three the door was closed, and the circle was formed for that day. He then began on the right, and spoke to each visitor, calling him by name, and exchanging a few words with him. When he had completed his circuit, he resumed his first position, and the visitors approached him in succession, bowed, and retired. By four o'clock this ceremony was over.

“On the evenings when Mrs. Washington received visitors, he did not consider himself as visited. He was then as a private gentleman, dressed usually in some colored coat (the only one recollected was brown, with bright buttons), and black on his lower limbs. He had then neither hat nor sword; he moved about among the company, conversing with one and another. He had, once a fortnight, an official dinner, and select companies on other days. He sat, it is said, at the side, in a central position; Mrs. Washington opposite; the two ends were occupied by members of his family, or by his personal friends.”

FOOTNOTES:

[152] Fraunces was a man of taste in his profession, and was fond of display, regardless of expense. On this account the president had frequent occasion to reprove him. He desired to live conformably to his high station, but he naturally abhorred waste and extravagance, and insisted that his household should be conducted with due regard to economy and usefulness. An illustrative anecdote is given. The first shad of the season was bought by Fraunces for the table of Washington, who was very fond of fish. It was served for breakfast in the best style, and set before the president, who asked the steward, “What kind of fish is this?”—"A fine shad,” replied Fraunces. “It is very early in the season for shad,” said the president; “how much did you pay for it?”—"Two dollars,” responded the steward. “Two dollars!” exclaimed the president. “I can never encourage this extravagance at my table; take it away—I will not touch it.” The shad was removed; and the steward, who felt no repugnance to the fish on account of its cost, made of it a hearty breakfast for himself.

WASHINGTON MEMORIALS.

In the Doric Hall of the Massachusetts State House, in Boston, near Chantrey's statue of Washington, may be seen two stones with inscriptions commemorative of the father and uncle of the two Washingtons who emigrated to America in 1657, as mentioned on page 20 of Volume I. The history of these stones is revealed in the following correspondence:

Executive Department, Council Chamber,
Boston, March 15, 1861.

To the Honorable House of Representatives:

I have the honor to present to the General Court, as a gift to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts from one of its citizens, certain memorials of great historic interest.

The home and resting-place of the ancestors of George Washington were until recently unvisited by and unknown to Americans. In the genealogical table appended to the “Life of Washington” by our distinguished fellow-citizen, Mr. Jared Sparks, it is stated that Lawrence Washington, the father of John Washington (who emigrated to Virginia in 1657), was buried at Brington; but though both Mr. Sparks and Washington Irving visited Sulgrave, an earlier home of the Washingtons, neither of these learned biographers appear by their works to have repaired to this quiet parish in Northamptonshire.

Our fellow-citizen, the Honorable Charles Sumner, on a recent visit to England, identified certain inscriptions in the parish church of Brington, near Althorp, as being those of the father and uncle of John Washington, the emigrant to Virginia, who was the great-grandfather of the Father of his Country.

Earl Spencer, the proprietor of Althorp, so honorably known as an early advocate of parliamentary reform, sought out the quarry from which, more than two centuries ago, these votive tablets were taken, and caused others to be made which are exact facsimiles of the originals. These he has presented to Mr. Sumner, who has expressed the desire that memorials so interesting to all Americans may be placed where they may be seen by the public, and has authorized me to offer them to the Commonwealth, if it be the pleasure of the Legislature to order them to be preserved in some public part of the State House.

I send with this a letter addressed to myself by the learned historian of Washington, bearing testimony to the great interest of these memorials, and expressing the desire that they may (Mr. Sumner assenting) be placed in the Capitol.

A letter from Mr. Sumner to Mr. Sparks also accompanies this Message, describing the church at Brington, and some of the associations which cluster around the resting-place of the ancestors of our Washington.

JOHN A. ANDREW.

MR. SPARKS TO THE GOVERNOR.

Cambridge, February 22, 1861.

Dear Sir: I enclose a copy of a highly interesting letter from Mr. Charles Sumner, describing the church at Brington, near Althorp, in Northamptonshire. In this church were deposited the remains of Lawrence Washington, who was the father of John and Lawrence Washington, the emigrants to America, and who was therefore the last English ancestor of George Washington. A copy of the inscription on the stone which covers the grave of Lawrence Washington, and also of another inscription over the grave of his brother Robert Washington, who was buried in the same church, are given with exactness in Mr. Sumner's letter. As far as I am aware, these inscriptions are now for the first time made known in this country.

The Earl Spencer has sent to Mr. Sumner two stones, being from the same quarry, and having the same form and dimensions as the originals, and containing a facsimile of the inscriptions. It has been suggested that these stones ought to be placed in the State House, where they may be accessible to the public, and my opinion on the subject has been asked. As they are unquestionably genuine memorials of the Washington family, and possess on this account a singular historical interest, I cannot imagine that a more appropriate disposition of them could be made. I understand that Mr. Sumner would cheerfully assent to such an arrangement, and I cannot doubt that your Excellency will be well inclined to take such measures as may effectually aid in attaining so desirable an object.

I am, Sir,

Very respectfully yours,

JARED SPARKS.

His Excellency John A. Andrew,
Governor of Massachusetts.

MR. SUMNER TO MR. SPARKS.

Boston, November 22, 1860.

My Dear Sir: Since our last conversation, the Earl Spencer has kindly sent to me precise copies of the two “Memorial Stones" of the English family of George Washington, which I have already described to you as harmonizing exactly with the pedigree which has the sanction of your authority. These are of the same stone and of the same size with the originals, and have the original inscriptions—being in all respects facsimiles. They will, therefore, give you an exact idea of these most interesting memorials in the parish church of Brington, near Althorp, in Northamptonshire.

The largest is of Lawrence Washington, the father of John Washington, who emigrated to America. It is a slab of bluish-gray sandstone, and measures five feet and nine inches long, and two feet and seven inches broad. Here is the inscription:

HERE LIETH THE BODI OF LAVRENCE
WASHINGTON SONNE AND HEIRE OF
ROBERT WASHINGTON OF SOVLGRAVE
IN THE COUNTIE OF NORTHAMPTON
ESQUIER WHO MARRIED MARGARET
THE ELDEST DAUGHTER OF WILLIAM
BUTLER OF TEES IN THE COUNTIE
OF SUSSEXE ESQUIER, WHO HAD ISSU
BY HER 8 SONNS AND 9 DAUGHTERS
WHICH LAVRENCE DECESSED THE 13
OF DECEMBER A. DNI 1616.

THOU THAT BY CHANCE OR CHOYCE
OF THIS HAST SIGHT
KNOW LIFE TO DEATH RESIGNES
AS DAYE TO NIGHT;
BUT AS THE SUNNS RETORNE
REVIVES THE DAY
SO CHRIST SHALL US
THOUGH TURNDE TO DUST & CLAY.

Above the inscription, carved in the stone, are the arms of the Washingtons, with an additional quartering of another family.

The other is of Robert Washington, and of Elizabeth his wife. Robert was the uncle of the emigrant. This is a slab of the same sandstone, and measures three feet and five inches long, and two feet and six inches broad. The inscription is on a small brass plate set into the stone, and is as follows:

HERE LIES INTERRED YE BODIES OF ELIZAB. WASHINGTON WIDDOWE WHO CHANGED THIS LIFE FOR IMORTALITIE YE 19TH OF MARCH 1622. AS ALSO YE BODY OF ROBERT WASHINGTON GENT. HER LATE HUSBAND SECOND SONNE OF ROBERT WASHINGTON OF SOLGRAVE IN YE COUNTY OF NORTH. ESQR. WHO DEPTED THIS LIFE YE 10TH OF MARCH 1622. AFTER THEY LIVED LOVINGLY TOGETHER MANY YEARS IN THIS PARISH.

On a separate brass, beneath the inscription, are the arms of the Washingtons without any addition. These, as you are well aware, have the combination of stars and stripes, and are sometimes supposed to have suggested our national flag. In heraldic language, there are bars of gules and argent, with three mullets, or stars.

HERE·LIETH·THE·BODI·OF·LAVRENCE
WASHINGTON·SONNE·&·HEIRE·OF
ROBERT·WASHINGTON·OF·SOVLGRAVE
IN·THE·COVNTIE·OF·NORTHAMPTON
ESQVIER·WHO·MARIED·MARGARET
THE·ELDEST·DAVGHTER·OF·WILLIAM
BVTLER·OF·TEES·IN·THE·COVNTIE
OF·SVSSEXE·ESQVIER·WHO·HAD·ISSV
BY·HER·8·SONNS·&·9·DAVGHTERS
WHICH·LAVRENCE·DECESSED·THE·13
OF·DECEMBER·A: DÑI:1616

THOV·THAT·BY·CHANCE·OR·CHOYCE
OF·THIS·HAST·SIGHT
KNOW·LIFE·TO·DEATH·RESIGNES
AS·DAYE·TO·NIGHT
BVT·AS·THE·SVNNS·RETORNE
REVIVES·THE·DAYE
SO·CHRIST·SHALL·VS
THOVGH·TVRNDE·TO·DVST·&·CLAY

In the interesting chapter on the “Origin and Genealogy of the Washington Family,” which you give in the Appendix to your “Life of Washington,” it appears that Lawrence, the father of the emigrant, died 13th December, and was buried at Brington, 15th December, 1616. But the genealogical tables, which you followed, gave no indication of the locality of this church. Had it appeared that it was the parish church of the Spencer family in Northamptonshire, the locality, which I believe has not been heretofore known in our country, would have been precisely fixed.

In point of fact, the slab which covers Lawrence Washington is in the chancel of the church, by the side of the monuments of the Spencer family. These are all in admirable preservation, with full-length effigies, busts, or other sculptural work, and exhibit an interesting and connected series of sepulchral memorials from the reign of Henry VIII. to the present time. Among them is a monument of the early English sculptor, Nicholas Stone; another from Nollekins from a design by Cipriani, and another by Flaxman, with exquisitely beautiful personifications of Faith and Charity. Beneath repose the successive representatives of this illustrious family, which has added to its aristocratic claims by services to the state, and also by the unique and world-famous library collected by one of its members. In this companionship will be found the last English ancestor of our Washington.

The other slab, covering Robert, the uncle of the emigrant, is in one of the aisles of the nave, where it is scraped by the feet of all who pass.

The parish of Brington is between seven and eight miles from the town of Northampton, not far from the centre of England. It is written in Domesday Book “Brinintone” and also “Brintone.” It contains about 2,210 acres, of which about 1,490 acres belong to Earl Spencer, about 326 acres to the rector in right of the church, and about 130 acres to other persons. The soil is in general a dark-colored loam, with a small trace of clay towards the north. Nearly four-fifths of the whole is pasture and feeding land.

In the village still stands the house said to have been occupied by the Washingtons when the emigrant brother left them. You will see a vignette of it on the title-page of the recent English work entitled “The Washingtons.” Over the door are carved the words, “The Lord giveth; the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord;” while the Parish Register gives a pathetic commentary by showing that, in the very year when this house was built, a child had been born and another had died in this family.

The church, originally dedicated to the Virgin, stands at the northeast angle of the village, and consists of an embattled tower with five bells, a nave, north and south aisles, a chancel, a chapel, and a modern porch; the tower is flanked by buttresses of two stages. The present fabric goes back in its origin to the beginning of the 14th century, nearly two hundred years before the discovery of America. The chancel and chapel, where repose the Spencers and Lawrence Washington, were rebuilt by Sir John Spencer, the purchaser of the estate, at the beginning of the 16th century. They afford one of the latest specimens of the Tudor style of architecture. The church is beautifully situated on the summit of the highest ground of Brington, and is surrounded by a stone wall flanked on the inside by trees. Dibdin says that a more complete picture of a country churchyard is rarely seen. A well-trimmed walk encircles the whole of the interior, while the fine Gothic windows at the end of the chancel fill the scene with picturesque beauty.

The Register of the Parish, which is still preserved, commences in 1560. From this it appears that Wm. Proctor was the rector from 1601 to 1627, covering the period of the last of the Washingtons there. The following further entries occur relating to this family:

1616. “Mr. Lawrence Washington was buried XVth day of December.”

1620. “Mr. Philip Curtis & Mis Amy Washington were married August 8.”

1622. “Mr. Robert Washington was buried March ye 11th.”

—— “Mrs. Elizabeth Washington, widow, was buried March ye 20th.”

Of one of the ministers in this church we have an interesting glimpse in Evelyn's “Memoirs” (vol. i. p. 612), where the following entry will be found, under date of July, 1688: “Dr. Jeffreys, the minister of Althorp, who was my lord's chaplain when Ambassador in France, preached the shortest discourse I ever heard; but what was defective in the amplitude of his sermon, he had supplied in the largeness and convenience of the parsonage-house.”

At a short distance—less than a mile—is Althorp, the seat of the Spencers, surrounded by a park of five hundred acres, of which one of the gates opens near the church. There are oak-trees bordering on the churchyard, which were growing at the time of the purchase of the estate in the reign of Henry VII. Evelyn was often here a delighted visitor. On one occasion he speaks of “the house or rather palace at Althorp” (vol. i. p. 612). In another place he describes it as “placed in a pretty open bottom, very finely watered, and flanked with stately woods and groves in a park” (vol. i. p. 451). Let me add that there is an engraving of Althorp at this time, by the younger Vosterman, a Dutch artist.

The Washington House, Brington.

Inscription over the Door of the Washington House, Brington.

There is one feature of the park which excited the admiration of Evelyn, and at a later day of Mrs. Jameson, who gives to it some beautiful pages in her “Visits and Sketches at Home and Abroad.” It is the record of the time when different plantations of trees was begun. While recommending this practice in his “Sylva,” Evelyn remarks, “The only instance I know of the like in our country, is in the park at Althorp.” There are six of these commemorative stones. The first records a wood planted by Sir John Spencer, in 1567 and 1568; the second, a wood planted by Sir John Spencer, son of the former, in 1589; the third, a wood planted by Robert, Lord Spencer, in 1602 and 1603; the fourth, a wood planted by Sir William Spencer, Knight of the Bath, afterwards Lord Spencer, in 1624. The latter stone is ornamented with the arms of the Spencers, and on the back is inscribed, “Up and bee doing, and God will prosper.” It was in this scenery and amidst these associations that the Washingtons lived. When the emigrant left in 1657, these woods must have been well-grown. It was not long afterwards that they arrested the attention of Evelyn.

The Household Books at Althorp show that for many years the Washingtons were frequent guests there. The hospitality of this seat has been renowned. The Queen of James I. and the Prince Henry, on their way to London, in 1603, were welcomed there in an entertainment, memorable for a masque from the vigorous muse of Ben Jonson (Ben Jonson's Works, vol. vi. p. 475). Charles I. was at Althorp, in 1647, when he received the first intelligence of the approach of those pursuers from whom he never escaped until his life had been laid down upon the scaffold. In 1698, King William was there for a week, and, according to Evelyn, was “mightily entertained” (vol. ii. p. 50). At least one of the members of this family was famous for hospitality of a different character. Evelyn records that he used to dine with the Countess of Sunderland—the title then borne by the Spencers—”when she invited fire-eaters, stone-eaters, and opera-singers, after the fashion of the day” (vol. i. pp. 458, 483, 579).

The family was early and constantly associated with literature. Spencer, the poet, belonged to it, and to one of its members he has dedicated his “Tears of the Muses.” It was for Alice Spencer that Milton is said to have written his “Arcades,” and Sir John Harrington has celebrated her memory by an epigram. The Sacharissa of Waller was the Lady Dorothy Sidney, wife of the first Earl of Sunderland, the third Lord Spencer, who perished fighting for King Charles I. at Newbury. I do not dwell on the other associations of a later day, as my object is simply to allude to those which existed in the time of the Washingtons.

“The nobility of the Spencers has been illustrated and enriched by the trophies of Marlborough; but I exhort them to consider the 'Fairy Queen' as the most precious jewel of their coronet.” Thus wrote Gibbon in his memoirs, and all must feel the beauty of the passage. Perhaps it is not too much to say that this nobility may claim another illustration from its ties of friendship and neighborhood with the family of Washington. It cannot doubt that hereafter the parish church of Brington will be often visited by our countrymen, who will look with reverence upon a spot so closely associated with American history.

I trust that this little sketch, suggested by what I saw at Althorp, during a brief visit last autumn, will not seem irrelevant. Besides my own personal impressions, and the volumes quoted, I have relied upon Dibdin's “Ædes Althorpianæ,” so interesting to all bibliographical students, and especially upon Baker's “History of Northamptonshire”—one of those magnificent local works which illustrate English history—to which you refer in your Appendix, but which was not completed till some time after the “Life of Washington” appeared.

Of course, the Memorial Stones which I have received from Lord Spencer are of much historic value, and I think that I shall best carry out the generous idea of the giver by taking care that they are permanently placed where they can be seen by the public; perhaps at the State House, near Chantrey's beautiful statue of Washington—if this should be agreeable to the Commonwealth.

Pray pardon this long letter, and believe me, my dear Sir, with much regard,

Ever sincerely yours,

CHARLES SUMNER.

Jared Sparks, Esq.

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts, by its Representatives, thanked Mr. Sumner, and directed the Memorial Stones to be placed where they now are.

ANALYTICAL INDEX.

This index is for all three volumes, however I have only indexed the pages in this volume.
For easy reading I have bolded the volume number.

A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L
M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | Y

A.

Abercrombie, Major-General, letter of Dinwiddie to, recommending Washington for promotion into the royal army, i. 216;
on unity in the colonies, i. 230;
dilatory movements of—haughtiness of, toward the provincials, i. 231;

Lord Loudoun superseded by, in 1758, i. 252;
his expedition against Ticonderoga and Crown Point, i. 262;
cowardice of, at Ticonderoga, i. 265;

Fort George erected by, i. 266;
the calumniator of Americans in England, i. 267.

Academy, military, establishment of one urged on Congress by Washington, iii. 455;

Washington's letter to Hamilton in relation to, iii. 549.

Acadia, early history of, i. 178;
removal of the population of, i. 179.

Acadians, cruelties perpetrated by, on the English frontier settlers, i. 180.

Accounts of Washington, i. 307, 318, iii. 34.

Ackland, Lady, visit of, to the American camp at Bemis's heights, ii. 534;
biographical notice of (note), ii. 535.

Ackland, Major, wounded at Hubbardton, ii. 467;
death of, at Saratoga (note), ii. 535.

Adams, John, prediction of, in 1755, i. 70;
extract from the Autobiography of (note), i, 432;
his account of the choice, by Congress, of a commander-in-chief, i. 533;
his admiration of Washington, i. 538;
movements of Washington on the Schuylkill criticised by, ii. 516;
treaty of peace signed by, in 1782, iii. 15;
liberal commercial offer made by, to the British government, iii. 101;
opinions of, on presidential etiquette, iii. 106;
his “Discourses on Davila,” iii. 188;
elected vice-president in 1792, iii. 222;
a candidate for the presidency in 1796, iii. 451;
letters of, to his wife, on learning his election to the presidency, iii. 468;
inauguration of, iii. 472;
jealous of the popularity of Washington, iii. 475;
special session of Congress convened by, in 1798, iii. 494;
letter of, to Washington, anticipating war with France, iii. 509.;
advice of Washington to, respecting the choice of generals, iii. 511;

Washington nominated by, as commander-in-chief, in 1798, iii. 512;
inclination of, to reverse Washington's arrangement of the major-generals, iii. 522;
anxiety of, to avert a war with France, iii. 528;
feud between, and his cabinet, iii. 530;
message of, to Congress, in relation to Mrs. Washington and funeral honors to her husband, iii. 565;

Adams, John Quincy, appointed minister to the Hague in 1794, iii. 301.

Adams, Mrs. John, lament of, for the death of Warren, i. 571;
remarks of, on the personal appearance of Washington, i. 586;
her description of the cannonade of Boston, ii. 63.

Adams, Samuel, integrity of, i. 345;
active in throwing the tea overboard in Boston harbor, i. 388;
noble sentiments expressed by, i. 437;
outlawed by a proclamation of General Gage, i. 552;
not concerned in Conway's Cabal (note), ii. 589;
part taken by, in celebrating the French victories in Holland, iii. 237.

Addresses of the second continental Congress to the people of Great Britain and Ireland, i. 606, 610.

Address, Washington's Farewell, iii. 427.

Adet, M., colors of France presented to Washington by, iii. 385;
reply of Washington to the speech of, iii. 386;
attempts of, to influence the American people, iii. 451;
extraordinary letter addressed by, to the Aurora and to the state department, iii. 452;
pamphlet issued by, from the press of the Aurora, iii. 463.

Agriculture, Congress urged by Washington to foster, iii. 455.

Aix-la-Chapelle, boundaries in America left unsettled by the treaty of, i. 59;
violation of the treaty of, by the French, i. 176.

Albany, congress of delegates from the colonies assembled at, in 1754, i. 127.

Alexandria, Washington stationed at, in 1754, i. 94;

Washington introduced to the assembled governors at, in 1755, i. 145;
bequest of Washington to the academy in, iii. 536;
lots owned by Washington in, at the time of his death, iii. 543.

Algiers, attention of Congress called by Washington to relations with—Colonel Humphreys appointed to treat with the dey of, iii. 293;
payment of tribute to, advocated in Congress in 1794, iii. 294;
treaty adjusted with, in 1795, iii. 379.

Aliquippa, Queen, interview of Washington with, i. 91.

Allen, Colonel Ethan, expedition of, against Ticonderoga, i. 524;
disappointed in his desire to invade Canada, i. 531;
retreat of, from St. John on the Sorel, i. 647;
letter of, to the provincial congress of New York, urging the invasion of Canada, i. 650;
an outlaw by act of the New York legislature—admitted to the floor of the provincial congress of New York, i. 653;
letter of thanks from, to the provincial congress of New York, i. 654;
letter of, to Governor Trumbull, in relation to the invasion of Canada—disappointment of, at his rejection by the Green Mountain Boys, i. 658;
remark of Montgomery respecting, i. 659;
body of Canadians raised by—unauthorized attempt upon Montreal made by, i. 672;
defeated and made prisoner, i. 673;
brutal treatment of, by Prescott. i. 674;
his letter of remonstrance to Prescott, i. 675;
subsequent history of (note), i. 675;

Schuyler and Washington on the insubordination of, i. 675, 676;
letter of Washington to Howe, in relation to the harsh treatment of—lenient treatment of, in England, ii. 28.

"American Association,” articles of, i. 441;
the signers of (note), i. 445;
the Quakers adverse to, i. 457;
measures for the enforcement of, adopted in all the colonies in 1775, i. 464;
popularity of, in New York, i. 515.

"American Continental Army" constituted, i. 531.

Ames, Fisher, letter of, in relation to the Congressional debates on Jay's treaty, iii. 393;
speech of, in the house of representatives, on the subject of Jay's treaty, iii. 405;
extracts from the speech of, iii. 405-416;
powerful impression produced by the speech of, iii 416.

Amherst, Major-General Sir Jeffery, expedition of, against Louisburg, in 1758, i. 260;
biographical notice of (note), i. 262;
appointed to the chief command in America in 1759, i. 290;

Ticonderoga taken possession of by, i. 292;
fortifications built at Crown Point by, i. 292.

Ancestry of Washington traceable for six hundred years, i. 18.

Anderson, Captain Ephraim, fire-ships constructed by, ii. 236.

Anderson, James, Washington's farm manager, letter of Washington to, iii. 548.

André, Major John, among the prisoners taken at St. John on the Sorel, i. 680;
correspondence of Mrs. Arnold with, ii. 689;
sent by Sir Henry Clinton to confer with Arnold—arrest of, at Tarrytown, ii. 690;
condemned to the death of a spy, ii. 693;
execution of, ii. 694;
names of the captors of, ii. 695.

Annapolis, Irving's description of fashionable society in, before the Revolution, i. 307;
first theatrical performance in America at, in 1752, i. 308;
journey of Washington to, from New York, in 1783—ball given at, in honor of Washington, iii. 35;
short stay of young Custis at the college at (note), iii. 533.

Anthrax, malignant, Washington attacked by, in 1789, iii. 116;

Appearance, personal, of Washington, i. 46, iii. 584, 590, 595, 597, 601.

Arbuthnot, Admiral, arrival of, in New York, with troops, ii. 661;
fleet of, damaged off Cape Hatteras, ii. 671;

French blockaded by, in Newport, ii. 681.

Armstrong, Colonel John, Kittanning destroyed by, in 1756, i. 226;
medal presented to, i. 227.

Armstrong, Major John, addresses to the continental army written by, in 1783, iii. 16, 18.

Arnold, Benedict, expedition undertaken by, against Ticonderoga—disappointment of, at finding Allen in the field before him, i. 524;
a volunteer in Allen's expedition, i. 525;
protest sent by, to the provincial congress of Massachusetts, i. 526;

St. John on the Sorel captured and afterward abandoned by, i. 646;
experience of, at sea in early life, i. 647;
proposition of, to the continental Congress, for the invasion of Canada, i. 648;
dislike of, for Allen (notes), i. 648, 652;
commission thrown up by, i. 649;
friendly reception of, by Washington, i. 682;
letter of General Gates to, at Watertown (note), i. 682;
expedition against Quebec intrusted to, i. 683;
instructions of Washington to, on his departure for Quebec, i. 683;
address of, to the inhabitants of Canada (note), i. 684;
private letter of Washington to, i. 687;
departure of, from Newburyport, i. 688;
army of, reduced by sickness and desertion, i. 689;
treachery of Indian messengers of, i. 690;
desertion of, by Colonel Enos, with his whole division—unparalleled hardships endured by the troops of, i. 692;
encampment of, on the eastern shore of Lake Megantic, i. 693;
destruction of vessels of, while descending the Chaudière—message of, to Montgomery, carried by young Aaron Burr, i. 694;
joined at Sertignan by Norridgewock Indians, i. 695;
friendly reception of, by the habitans of the valley of the Chaudière—approach of, known in Quebec through Indian treachery—fears excited in Quebec by the arrival of the troops of, at Point Levi, i. 696;
names of men in the expedition of, afterward distinguished, i. 697;
operations of, at Quebec, delayed by a snowstorm—Heights of Abraham scaled by, i. 701;
reliance of, on the friendliness of the people of Quebec, i. 702;
retirement of, from before Quebec—communication of, with Montgomery, i. 703;
commendation of, by Washington for his conduct in the Quebec expedition, i. 713;
wounded in the attempt to storm the fortifications of Quebec, i. 720;
withdrawal of, to an entrenched camp—attempts of, to cut off supplies from the garrison of Quebec, i. 723;
made brigadier-general. ii. 95;
his urgent request of reinforcements from Wooster—letter of, to Congress, urging further efforts for the conquest of Canada, ii. 98;
sorties from Quebec repelled by—compelled to resort to continental money for the purchase of supplies, ii. 99;
ineffective fire opened by, upon Quebec—small-pox in the camp of—arrival of General Wooster at the camp of—departure of, for Montreal, ii. 100;
letter of Schuyler to, expressing regret at the conduct of Wooster, ii. 101;
efforts of, to obtain a surrender of prisoners, from Captain Forster, ii. 149;
warning given to, at Montreal, of the approach of the British, ii. 164;
goods of Montreal merchants seized by (note), ii. 165;
retreat of, from Montreal, ii. 165;
narrow escape of, from the British at Longueuil, ii. 166;
the last man that left the shores of Canada, ii. 167;
flotilla constructed by, at Ticonderoga—post taken by, with his flotilla, at Isle-aux-Têtes,ii. 255;
great intrepidity displayed by, in a naval engagement on Lake Champlain, ii. 334;
destruction of the vessels of—Crown Point abandoned by, ii. 336;
complaints of, ii. 403;

Washington's concern at the neglect of, by Congress, ii. 429;
letter of, to Washington, in relation to his claims to promotion, ii. 480;
wonderful escape of, while harassing Tryon's retreat from Danbury, ii. 436, 437;
made major-general by Congress—appointed by Washington to the command at Peekskill, ii. 438;
recommended by Washington to take the place of St. Clair, ii. 470;
boldness and activity of, at Bemis's Heights, ii. 524;
jealousy of General Gates excited against, ii. 526;
deprived of his command by Gates, ii. 527;
letters of, to Gates, urging him to attack Burgoyne, ii. 528, 529;
activity of, at the second battle near Bemis's Heights, ii. 531;
wounded at Bemis's Heights in the leg maimed at Quebec, ii. 533;

Philadelphia taken possession of by, on the departure of Clinton, ii. 618;
expensive habits of, in Philadelphia—marriage of, to Miss Shippen—charges preferred against, by the people of Philadelphia—sentenced by a court-martial to a reprimand, ii. 688;
cautious advances made by, to Clinton, ii. 689;
command at West Point solicited by, ii. 689;
price of the treason of, ii. 690;
letter of Jameson received by, while at breakfast—escape of, from West Point, ii. 692;
attempt to abduct, made by Sergeant Champe, ii. 694;
hated and despised by the British, ii. 695;
persons suspected of complicity with, ii. 697;
predatory excursion of, to Virginia—efforts of, to capture Governor Jefferson, ii. 711;
ravaging expedition of, on the shores of Connecticut, ii. 727.

Arnold, Mrs., early correspondence of, with Major André, ii. 689, 695;
ordered by the executive council of Pennsylvania to leave the state, ii. 695.

Articles of Confederation, adoption of, ii. 710;
substance of (note), ii. 710;
considered defective by Washington as a system of government—letter of Washington to James Warren, in relation to, iii. 54;
letters of Washington and Jay in relation to a revision of, iii. 56;
convention to amend, proposed by commissioners at Annapolis, iii. 59.

Asgill, Captain, selected by lot for execution—sympathies of Washington excited for, iii. 14.

Ashe, General, surprised by Prevost, at Brier creek, ii. 651.

Asses, sent to Washington by the king of Spain and by Lafayette, iii. 51.

Atlee, Colonel Samuel J., made prisoner at the battle of Long Island—biographical notice of (note), ii. 274.

Aurora, abstract of Jay's treaty sent to the editor of, by Senator Mason, iii. 347;
libel of Washington published in, iii. 369;
confidential questions of Washington to his cabinet relating to the reception of Genet, published in, iii. 420;
extraordinary letter of Adet addressed to, in 1796, iii. 452;
malignant language of, in 1796, in relation to Washington—malignant letter of Paine to Washington issued from the press of, iii. 461;
a pamphlet issued from the press of, by Adet, iii. 463;
virulent attacks upon the character of Washington, published in, in 1797, iii. 477;
public indignation excited against—editor of, severely beaten, iii. 478;

American government criminated by, in defence of France, iii. 505.

Awe, inspired by the presence of Washington, iii. 597, 598.

B.

Bache, editor of the Aurora, Washington's opinion of his journal, iii. 268;
severely beaten, iii. 478.

Baker, Captain Remember, prisoners made by, i. 645.

Baird, Sir James, his brutal treatment of General Woodhull when a prisoner (note), ii. 277.

Ball in honor of Washington's inauguration, iii. 109;
in celebration of the birthday of Washington in 1797, iii. 469.

Baltimore, effect of the news of the battle of Lexington at, i. 517;

Continental Congress adjourned to, ii. 362;
reception of Washington at, on his way to Mount Vernon, in 1797, iii. 480.

Bank, national, advocated by Hamilton, iii. 171;
popularity of Hamilton's plan for—opposition of Jefferson to, iii. 172;
bill creating, signed by Washington, iii. 173.

Barbados, visit of Lawrence and George Washington to, in 1751, i. 62.

Barbary powers, impunity of their piracies in 1789, iii. 100.

Bard, Doctor, assiduous attention of, to Washington, during his illness in 1789, iii. 116.

Barney, Commodore, bad conduct of, in the West Indies, iii. 467.

Barnsfare, Captain, death of Montgomery in the attempt to surprise the battery of, i. 718.

Barré, Isaac, Wolfe's adjutant-general at Quebec, i. 293;

"conciliatory bill" of Lord North denounced by, i. 498.

Barren Hill, escape of Lafayette from the British at, ii. 615.

Barrett, Colonel, militia assembled under, at Concord, i. 506.

Barry, William T., placed at the head of the post-office department in 1829, iii. 123.

Barton, Lieutenant-Colonel William, General Prescott made prisoner by, ii. 474.

Baskingridge, surprise and capture of General Lee at, ii. 358.

Bassett, Colonel, death of J. P. Custis at the house of, at Eltham, iii. 5.

Bastile, in France, destruction of, iii. 136;
key of, sent to Washington by Lafayette, iii. 163.

Bath, buildings owned by Washington in, at the time of his death, iii. 543.

Baume, Colonel, sent by Burgoyne to seize provisions at Bennington, ii. 486;
death of, at the battle of Bennington, ii. 487.

Baylor, Colonel, party of horse under, surprised by General Grey, ii. 643.

Beckwith, Major, mission of, to the United States, in 1790, iii. 158;

Washington's opinion of the mission of—action of Washington's cabinet with regard to, iii. 159.

Bedell, Colonel, fort at Chamblée captured by a party under the command of, i. 677;
stationed at the Cedars with New Hampshire troops, ii. 148;
cowardice of, ii. 148, 149.

Beekman, James, headquarters of General Howe in New York, at the house of, ii. 297.

Belvoir, seat of Honorable William Fairfax, i. 43;
mansion of, destroyed by fire, i. 454;
regret of Washington for the destruction of, iii. 490.

Bellamy, Mr., agent of Talleyrand in the attempt to extort money from American envoys, iii. 502;
astonishment of, at the boldness of the envoys, iii. 503.

Beman, Nathan, Ethan Allen's guide at Ticonderoga, surviving in 1846 (note), i. 525.

Bemis's Heights, entrenched camp established on, by Gates, by the advice of Kosciuszko, ii. 522;
force and position of the army of Gates at—arrival of Burgoyne in the neighborhood of, ii. 523;
inactivity of Gates at, ii. 524;
anxiety of Arnold to renew the battle at—comparative loss of the British and Americans in the battle at, ii. 525;
retirement of Burgoyne from, ii. 526;
second battle near, begun by Morgan and his riflemen, ii. 530.

Bennington, Colonel Baume sent by Burgoyne to seize provisions at, ii. 486;
disastrous consequences to Burgoyne, of Colonel Baume's defeat at, ii. 487.

Bequests left by Washington to various persons as mementoes, iii. 539.

Bernard, Governor, attempts of, to bribe the leading men of Boston, i. 345;
petitioned by the Massachusetts assembly to remove the troops from Boston—departure of, for England, in 1769, i. 367.

Beverage of Washington, iii. 586.

Beverly, skirmish of the Nautilus with a privateer at, i. 732.

Bigelow, Major, mountain ascended by, in expectation of a distant view of Quebec, i. 691.

Billy, body-servant of Washington, spurious letters of Washington alleged to have been found in the possession of, iii. 448.

Bingham, Mr., Jay's treaty burned in front of the house of, in Philadelphia, iii. 353.

Binney, Horace, conclusions arrived at by, respecting the authorship of Washington's Farewell Address (note), iii. 434.

Birthday of Washington, acrimonious debate in Congress respecting the celebration of, in 1793, iii. 322;
celebration of, in 1797, iii. 469.

Birthplace of Washington, i. 17, 23.

Bishop, the body-servant of Washington, transferred to him by Braddock, i. 277.

Blair, John, appointed associate judge of the supreme court in 1789, iii. 122.

"Blockade of Boston,” a farce composed by the British officers during the siege—not written by Burgoyne (note), ii. 49;
turned into a tragedy by Knowlton's attack on Charlestown, ii. 50.

Blount, resolutions offered in Congress by, respecting the treaty-making power, iii. 397;
resolutions of, adopted, iii. 398.

Board of Trade and Plantations, attempts of, to control the colonies, i. 314.

Bonaparte, Napoleon, treaty concluded by, with the American envoys, iii. 530;
honors paid to the memory of Washington by, iii. 570.

Bond, British chargé, threat and complaint of, in relation to Jay's treaty, iii. 401.

Boquet, Colonel, letter of Washington to, in relation to a proposed new road to Fort Duquesne, i. 271.

Boscawen, Alcide and Lys taken by, i. 177;
at the siege of Louisburg in 1758—biographical notice of (note), i. 260.

Boston, reception of Washington in, in 1756—population of, in 1756, i. 200;
troops landed at, in 1768, under cover of cannon from the ships-of-war, i. 346;

"massacre" at, i. 366;
troops removed from, after the “massacre”—vengeance threatened against, for the destruction of tea in the harbor, i. 388;
port of, closed by act of Parliament, i. 389;
sympathy with, in Virginia, i. 392, 395;
money sent from London to assist the suffering poor of, i. 397;
the only spot in Massachusetts in 1774 where the king's government was obeyed, i. 417;
rumored bombardment of, i. 426;
removal of troops from, advocated by Lord Chatham, i. 489;
intercourse of, with the country, cut off by General Gage, i. 514;
position of the British and American forces at the siege of, i. 619;
scarcity and sickness in the British army in, i. 636;
sufferings of the patriots in, during the siege, i. 637;
a portion of the inhabitants of, sent away by General Gage—number of residents and troops in, during the siege (note), i. 638;
question as to the bombardment of, submitted by Washington to the committee of Congress, i. 736;
desecration of churches in, by British troops during the siege, i. 745;
oppressive measures of General Howe toward the people of, i. 746;
secret expedition fitted out by General Howe in the harbor of, ii. 29;
anxiety of Washington to drive the British out of, ii. 29, 32, 47;
the small-pox in the British army in—ammunition expended by the British in the defence of (note), ii. 48;
anxiety of Washington for a direct assault upon—council of war adverse to an attack upon, ii. 53;
cannonade and bombardment of, in anticipation of the attempt upon Dorchester Heights—cannonade of, heard at the distance of a hundred miles, ii. 62;
resolution of General Howe to evacuate, ii. 67;
consternation of the tories of, at Howe's preparations for departure from, ii. 68;
spared by General Howe on condition of his being allowed to depart unmolested, ii. 69;
outrages committed by Howe's troops at the evacuation of, ii. 70;
scene presented at the evacuation of—prizes taken at sea by the Americans during the siege of (note), ii. 71;
sorrow of the tories on leaving—troops glad to get away from, ii. 72;
entrance of the Americans into, ii. 73;
visitors prohibited from entering without passes, ii. 74;
damage done to buildings in—"Liberty-tree" at, cut down (note), ii. 75;
large amount of property left behind by Howe at the evacuation of—efforts of Washington to establish order in, ii. 76;
address of the selectmen of, to Washington—congratulatory letters, in relation to the evacuation of, addressed to Washington (note), ii. 77;
measures of Washington for the defence of, ii. 81;
apprehensions of the people of, of the return of Howe—operations for the defence of, carried on by Colonel Gridley, ii. 82;
plan of General Lincoln for driving the British fleet from the harbor of—British store-ships captured in the harbor of, ii. 83;
effect in England of the news of the flight of the army from, ii. 84;
speech of the duke of Manchester on the abandonment of, ii. 86;
the ministry attacked by Barré and Burke in relation to the abandonment of, ii. 86;
reception of Washington in, on his tour in 1789—dispute between the selectmen of, and Governor Hancock, in relation to the reception of Washington, iii. 127;
influenza prevalent at, a few days after Washington's visit (note), iii. 128;
reminiscences of Samuel Breck, of Washington's visit to, in 1789 (note), iii. 130;
letter of Washington to the selectmen of, in relation to Jay's treaty, iii. 356.

Boston, French frigate L'Embuscade challenged by, iii. 277.

"Boston Massacre,” history of, i. 366-368;
anniversary of, fixed upon for taking possession of Dorchester Heights, ii. 61;
anniversaries of, observed in Boston (note), ii. 65.

Boston Neck, defence of, by Colonel Robinson, i. 513;
fortifications erected on, by Howe, i. 745;
fortifications on, demolished by order of Washington, ii. 81.

Botetourt, Lord, arrival of, in Virginia, in 1768—Junius's description of—remark of Walpole respecting—his erroneous impressions of the colonists, i. 351;
palace of, at Williamsburg—parade of, on opening the Virginia assembly, i. 352;
illusions of, rapidly dispelled, i. 353;

Virginia assembly dissolved by, i. 354;
good faith and justice of—statue erected to the memory of, i. 356;
death of, followed by a change of public sentiment in Virginia, i. 374.

Botta, Charles, eloquent remarks of, on the achievements of Washington in the Jerseys, ii. 394.

Boudinot, Elias, commissary general of prisoners, in the summer of 1777, ii. 412.

Bowdoin, James, characteristic letter of General Lee to, ii. 342.

Boyd, Colonel, defeated by Colonel Pickens, ii. 651.

Braddock, Edward, father of General Braddock—daughters of, i. 135.

Braddock, General, Walpole's description of, i. 135;
heartlessness of—in the battle of Fontenoy—stationed at Gibraltar in 1753, i. 136;
anecdote of Anne Bellamy, illustrating the character of—arrival of, in Hampton roads, i. 137;
conference of, with Governor Dinwiddie at Williamsburg—first general orders of, issued from Alexandria—anxiety of, to procure the services of Washington, i. 138;
invitation of, to Washington to become one of his family—Washington's reasons for joining, i. 139;
meeting of, with the colonial governors, at Alexandria, i. 140;
three distinct expeditions planned by, i. 141;
letter of, to Lord Halifax, in relation to Pennsylvania and Maryland, i. 144;
disappointments and difficulties of—appoints Washington his aid-de-camp, i. 146;
irritation of, at the indifference of the colonies, i. 147;

Franklin in the camp of, at Fredericktown—his extreme confidence of success—conversation of Franklin with, in relation to his expedition, i. 148;

Franklin urged by, to procure wagons for the use of the army, i. 149;
his commendation of Washington and Franklin, i. 150;
war-dance of Indians in the camp of, at Will's Creek—effective force of, at Will's Creek, i. 151;
names of men afterward distinguished, in the camp of, i. 152;
delay at Will's Creek fatal to, i. 156;
slow march of the army of, i. 157;
advice of Washington to, to press forward rapidly, i. 158;
illness of Washington on his march with—Washington left at the Youghiogany by the orders of, i. 159;
continued fears of ambuscades in the army of, i. 160;
son of Monacatoocha killed by grenadiers of, by mistake, i. 161;
funeral honors paid by, to the son of Monacatoocha, i. 162;
his fatal rejection of Indian aid—forces of, greatly exaggerated in the French camp, i. 163;
location of the camp of, on the eve of his defeat, i. 165;
details of the defeat of, i. 166-170;
bravery displayed by, on the field of battle, i. 168;
mortal wound received by, i. 169;
death of, near Great Meadows, on the 14th of July, 1755—funeral service at the grave of, read by Washington—grave of, still to be seen (note), i. 171;
depressing influence of the memory of the defeat of, i. 205.

Bradford, a leader in the Whiskey Insurrection, iii. 310;
in favor of forming an independent western state, iii. 316.

Bradford, William, successor of Randolph as attorney-general, iii. 289;
lines written by, on the sufferings of Lafayette, iii. 373.

Bradstreet, Colonel, expedition of, against Fort Frontenac—assistance lent to, by General Stanwix—joined by Red Head and his Indian warriors, i. 267;
surrender of the fort to—malignant fever among the troops of, i. 268;

Detroit relieved by, in 1764, i. 320.

Brand, bishop of Quebec, refusal of, to issue a mandement in the interest of the British government, i. 644.

Brandywine, movements of the American and British armies in the neighborhood of, ii. 501;
battle of—Lafayette a volunteer in the battle of, ii. 505;

Lafayette wounded at the battle of, ii. 506;
skilful movement of General Greene at the battle of—retreat of the American army from, to Chester, ii. 507;
opinion of General Knox in regard to the battle of—Sullivan censured for allowing himself to be surprised at—killed and wounded at the battle of—letter of Washington to Congress, in relation to the battle at, ii. 508;
conspicuous bravery of Count Pulaski at the battle of, ii. 510.

Brant, Joseph, biographical notice of (note), ii. 106.

Brant, and Walter Butler, Cherry Valley desolated by, ii. 642.

Breadstuffs, neutral vessels carrying, seized by the cruisers of England and France in 1793, iii. 272.

Breakfast-hour of Washington, iii. 586.

Breck, Samuel, his reminiscences of Washington's visit to Boston in 1789 (note), iii. 130.

Breed's hill, fortified by Colonel Prescott, instead of Bunker's hill, i. 556;

Neal's lines on the fortification of—fire opened upon, from ships-of-war, i. 557;
excitement in Boston during the cannonade upon, i. 558:

troops at, reinforced by Stark's regiment—New England flag hoisted at (note), i. 559;
preparations for the attack upon, i. 560;
suspicion of treachery among the defenders of—arrival of Doctor Warren and General Pomeroy at, i. 561;
arrival of Colonel Stark at the rail-fence breastwork at—British plan of attack upon, i. 563;
carnage among the British at, i. 564;
second attack upon, under General Howe, i. 565;
second retreat of the British from—numerous spectators of the battle on, i. 560;
watched by Sir Henry Clinton from Copp's hill—failure of ammunition of Americans at, i. 567;
rapid retreat of the Americans from, i. 569;
terrible price paid by the British for their victory at—immense gain of the Americans by the battle of—British loss at, according to General Gage (note), i. 570.

Bridport, Lord, flags of the fleet of, at Torbay, lowered to half-mast, at the death of Washington, iii. 570.

Brienne, Marchioness de, ball in honor of Washington directed by, iii. 110.

Brier Creek, General Ashe surprised by Prevost at, ii. 651.

Brooke, Governor, letter of Washington to, in relation to education, iii. 333.

Brooklyn, defensive works prepared by General Greene at, ii. 171;
appeal made by Washington to the troops at (note), ii. 203;

Sullivan superseded in command at, by Putnam—disorderly conduct of the troops at, on the approach of the British, ii. 264;
description of the defensive works in the neighborhood of—roads in the rear of—minute description of the defensive works near, where to be found (note), ii. 265;
plan of the British march upon, ii. 266;

Putnam's camp at, visited by Washington, ii. 267;

American works at, taken possession of by the British, ii. 285.

Brougham, Lord, panegyric pronounced by, upon the character of Washington, iii. 581.

Broughton, Captain, the first naval commission granted to, by Washington, in 1795, i. 740.

Brown, Doctor, of Port Tobacco, Washington attended by, in his last illness, iii. 554.

Brown, Major John, sent by General Schuyler into Canada as confidential agent, i. 659;
letter of, to Governor Trumbull, in relation to the invasion of Canada—report of, as to the defenceless condition of Canada, i. 660;
unauthorized attempt made upon Montreal by, in concert with Ethan Allen, i. 672.

Brunswick, duke of, mercenaries furnished by, ii. 6.

Brunswick, one bed occupied by Franklin and Adams at, ii. 290;
critical position of the American army at, ii. 346;
disappointment of Cornwallis in not finding Washington at, ii. 392;
headquarters of Sir William Howe at, ii. 443.

Brush, Crean, ordered by Howe to seize clothing in Boston, ii. 70.

Buchan, earl of, box of the oak that sheltered Wallace recommitted to, by the will of Washington, iii. 539.

Buffalo river, fort built on, by the French, in 1752, i. 74.

Buford, Colonel, massacre of a body of troops under, by Colonel Tarleton, ii. 676.

Bull, Governor, letters of the British government to, seized and sent to Congress, i. 500.

Bunker's hill, occupied by the British the night after the battle of Lexington, i. 510;
fortification of, intrusted to Colonel Prescott, i. 556;
intrenchments commenced on, by Putnam, i. 559;
battle of, see Breed's hill;
cruel treatment by General Gage, of prisoners taken at, i. 630;

General Sir Henry Clinton placed in command of a redoubt on, i. 744.

Burgoyne, General, biographical notice of, i. 620;
interview with General Lee proposed by, i. 630;
intelligence of the movements of, in Canada, sent to Washington by Schuyler—doubts of Washington as to the force of, ii. 453;

New York invaded by, ii. 459;
composition of the army of—doubts of Schuyler as to the intentions of—Indians unwillingly employed by, ii. 460;
faithlessness of the Indians employed by, ii. 481, 485;

Crown Point taken possession of by, pompous proclamation issued by, ii. 461;
proclamation of Washington in reply to, ii. 462;

Mount Hope and Sugar-Loaf hill taken possession of, by, ii. 464;
fate of, foretold by Washington—progress of, toward Fort Edward, ii. 480, 481;

Indian allies of, troublesome—humanity of, ii. 481;
large bounty offered by, for prisoners—humane instructions of, to his Indian allies (note), ii. 482;
want of provisions in the army of, ii. 485;
defeat of Baume at Bennington a disastrous blow to, ii. 487;
perplexity and alarm of, after the battle of Bennington, ii. 521;
silent march of, down the valley of the Hudson, ii. 522;
retirement of, from Bemis's Heights—cheering news received by, from Sir Henry Clinton, ii. 526;
anxiety of, to hear from Clinton, ii. 528;
compelled to fight or fly, ii. 529;
deplorable situation of, ii. 583;
buildings of Schuyler at Saratoga burned by, ii. 535;
arms laid down by the army of—army of, marched to Virginia as prisoners-of-war—reception of, and his officers, in the American camp, ii. 537;
impression made upon, by the generosity of Schuyler—a guest at the house of Schuyler at Albany, ii. 538;
importance of the surrender of, to the republican cause, ii. 539;
effect in Congress and in Parliament of the news of the surrender of—speech of Chatham in relation to the surrender of—effect on the continent of Europe of the news of the surrender of, ii. 540.

Burke, Edmund, on the conduct of the British naval commanders, i. 322;
eloquence of, in opposition to the stamp-act, i. 334;
extract from a speech of, on American taxation (note), i. 342;
conciliatory resolutions presented by, in Parliament, i. 498;
despondent view taken by, of American affairs, ii. 396.

Burke's History of Virginia, terms of the association to exclude British merchandise printed in, i. 355.

Burr, Aaron, sent with a verbal message to Montgomery by Arnold, i. 694;
with Arnold in his Quebec expedition, i. 697;
forlorn hope placed under the command of, by Montgomery, i. 717;
not with Montgomery when he fell (note), i. 719;
troops of Putnam led out of New York by, ii. 296;
a senator in the Congress of 1791—personal hostility of, to Washington, iii. 192;
systematic opposition of, to Washington, iii. 300.

Butler, Colonel Zebulon, defence of Wyoming attempted by, ii. 641.

Butler, John, massacre at Wyoming by tories and Indians under the command of, ii. 641.

Butler, Walter, and Brant, Cherry Valley desolated by, ii. 642.

Buttrick, Major, attack made by, upon the British at Concord, i. 507.

Byron, Admiral, arrival of, at New York, as successor to Lord Howe, ii. 644.

Byron, Lord, lines of, in allusion to Washington's refusal of compensation, i. 538.

C.

Cabinet of Washington, dissentions in, in 1790, iii. 151.

Cadwalader, General, duel of, with Conway, ii. 590.

Caghnawaga tribe of Indians, efforts of Schuyler to conciliate, i. 665;
mistake of Captain Baker respecting (note), i. 666.

Caldwell, Reverend James, murder of the wife of, at Connecticut Farms, ii. 677.

Callbeck, Mr., and others, made prisoners by Captains Broughton and Selman—letter of thanks addressed by, to Washington, i. 742.

Cambridge, departure of Washington from Philadelphia to take command of the army at, i. 541;
confusion at, on the approach of the British to Breed's hill, i. 560;
reflections on the mission of Washington, on his taking command of the army at, i. 573;
journey of Washington, to, performed on horseback, i. 574;
reception of Washington at—dwelling occupied by Washington at, i. 584;
arrival of Gates and Sullivan in the camp at, i. 587;
letters of Washington to Congress from the camp at, i. 587-595;
declaration of Congress read to the troops in camp at, i. 617;
arrival of southern riflemen at the camp at, i. 618;
army at, arranged by Washington into three grand divisions—the headquarters of Washington at the siege of Boston—Putnam's division stationed at, i. 619;
inactivity of the army at, i. 724;
officers of the army at, consulted by Washington, as to an attack upon the British in Boston, i. 725;
council of war held at, adverse to an attack—letter of Washington to Congress in relation to the state of the army at, i. 726;
efforts of Washington to reorganize the army at, i. 747;
deficiency of skilful engineers at, i. 749;
artillery and stores conveyed to, from Lake Champlain, by Colonel Knox, i. 750;
trials of Washington in the camp at, i. 752;
difficulties attending the reorganization of the army at, i. 755;
bad condition of arms and ammunition at, i. 760;
intrenchments thrown up by the army at, i. 762;
improved state of affairs at—letter of General Greene on the privations of the troops at (note), i. 763;
fruit-trees in the neighborhood of, consumed as firewood (note), i. 764;

Mrs. Washington in the camp at, i. 768;
burning of the king's speech at, ii. 2;
weakness of the army at, in January, 1776, ii. 13, 14;
extraordinary difficulties of Washington while in command of the army at, ii. 44;
councils of war held at, ii. 47, 52.

Camden, set on fire and abandoned by Lord Rawdon, ii. 719.

Campbell, Captain John, death of, in the battle at Moore's-Creek Bridge, ii. 118.

Campbell, Lieutenant-Colonel Archibald, and seven hundred men, made prisoners in Boston harbor, ii. 83;
letter of, to Washington, complaining of his treatment as a prisoner, ii. 407.

Campbell, Lord, royal power abdicated by, in South Carolina, ii. 186;
badly wounded in the attack upon Fort Sullivan, ii. 193.

Canada, conquest of, urged upon the British government by Franklin (note), ii. 144;
surrender of, to the English, in 1760, i. 301;
prediction of the duke de Choiseul in relation to the loss of, i. 302;
people of, indisposed to revolution, i. 522;
address of the second continental Congress to the people of—resolution of the second continental Congress not to invade, i. 531;
loyalty of the people of, to the British crown, i. 642;
address of Congress to, contrasted with its language to the people of England, i. 643;
efforts of Sir Guy Carleton to secure the loyalty of the people of, i. 644;
auspicious moment for the conquest of, i. 645;
proposition to invade, made by Colonel Ethan Allen, i. 650;
cautious proceedings of Congress in relation to the invasion of, i. 652;
tardy gathering of the troops for—letter of Ethan Allen to Governor Trumbull in relation to the invasion of, i. 658;
secret agents sent into, by General Schuyler, i. 659;
delays in the invasion of, i. 660;
address of General Schuyler to the inhabitants of, i. 665;
defenceless condition of, i. 667;
address of Arnold to the inhabitants of (note), i. 684;
measures of Congress with regard to, ii. 93;
exertions made for the relief of the troops in, ii. 94;

General Lee named by Washington for command in, ii. 95;
chief command of the troops in, given to Lee by Congress—change of plans of Congress with regard to, ii. 96;
alienation of the people of, ii. 97;
committee of civilians appointed by Congress to visit, ii. 98;
abandonment of, considered necessary by Schuyler, ii. 103;
total disaffection of the people of, toward the cause of the patriots, ii. 142;
troops sent toward, under General Thompson, ii. 143;
commissioners appointed to form a union with—instructions of the commissioners sent to, ii. 145;
indisposition of the people of, to a union with the colonies, ii. 146;
committee of Congress confer with Washington, Gates, and Mifflin, on affairs in, ii. 159;
efforts of Congress to retain possession of, ii. 160;
letter of Washington to Schuyler in relation to affairs in—deplorable condition of the American army in, ii. 161;
defeat of General Thompson in, ii. 163;
end of the invasion of, ii. 168;
plan of Congress for the invasion of, abandoned by the advice of Washington, ii. 644;
opposition of Washington to the French plan for the invasion of, ii. 647.

Canadians, battalion of, authorized by Congress to be raised, ii. 93.

Canes, gold-headed, left by Washington to various persons, iii. 539.

Capital, the federal, location of, determined in 1790, iii. 150;
surveys and plans of buildings of, examined by Washington—location of, chosen by Washington, iii. 178;
land surrendered for, by Georgetown and Carrollsburg, iii. 179.

Cardillac, incredulity of, as to the profitable navigation of the western rivers, i. 68.

Carleton, Sir Guy, at the head of Wolfe's grenadiers at Quebec, i. 293;
efforts of, to secure the loyalty of the Canadians, i. 644;
defeat of, by Colonel Seth Warner at Longueuil, i. 679;

Montreal abandoned by, on the approach of Montgomery, i. 699;
escape of, to Quebec, i. 700;
opportune arrival of, at Quebec, i. 714;
determination of, to defend Quebec, i. 715;
his humane treatment of prisoners taken at the siege of Quebec, i. 721;
reliance of, upon reinforcements from England for the defence of Quebec, ii. 99;
pursuit of the Americans by, on their retreat from before Quebec—stores and prisoners taken by—great humanity of, toward the sick and prisoners, ii. 102;
noble proclamation of, with regard to sick fugitives, ii. 103;
not the policy of, to make prisoners (note), ii. 167;
efforts of, to create a navy on Lake Champlain, ii. 333;

Crown Point taken possession of by, on its abandonment by Arnold, ii. 336;
army of reserve, under the command of, in Canada, ii. 459;
successor of Sir Henry Clinton as British commander-in-chief, iii. 7;
personal interview of Washington with, at Tappan, iii. 22.

Carlisle and Roberts, Quakers, hanged as spies, i. 462.

Carmagnole sung in the streets of New York in 1793, iii. 248.

Carmichael, Mr., chargé d'affaires at Madrid in 1790, iii. 157.

Carpenters' Hall, in Philadelphia, first place of meeting of the continental Congress, i. 420.

Carroll, Charles, in the commission appointed to form a union with Canada, ii. 144;
son of, a suitor for the hand of Nelly Custis, iii. 486.

Carroll, Reverend John, associated with the commission to form a union with Canada, ii. 145;
return of, from Canada, in company with Franklin, ii. 146.

Carter, Charles, mention made of, in Washington's will, iii. 538.

Caswell, Colonel, in command of minute-men in the battle at Moore's-Creek Bridge—biographical notice of (note), ii. 117.

Catawba Indians, bad conduct of, in the expedition against Fort Duquesne in 1758 (note), i. 273.

Catholics, generally the friends of liberty during the Revolutionary struggle, i. 464.

Cedars, Colonel Bedell stationed at, with a body of New Hampshire troops, ii. 148.

Ceremonials, opinions of Adams, Jay, Hamilton, and Madison, sought by Washington in relation to, iii. 105.

Chamberlayne, Mr., Washington introduced to Martha Custis by, i. 277.

Chamblée, capture of the fort at, by a party under Colonel Bedell—arms and ammunition taken at, i. 677;
flag of the seventh British regiment found in the fort at—letter of Montgomery to Robert Livingston, relating to the fort at (note), i. 678;
retreat of Sullivan from, ii. 166.

Character of Washington, iii. 573.

Charleston, arms and ammunition in the magazines of, seized by the patriots, i. 521;
activity of the patriots in, ii. 185;

Admiral Parker's unsuccessful attack upon, ii. 188;
saved by the dilatory movements of the British, ii. 189;
siege of, by Sir Henry Clinton, ii. 671;
bombardment of—surrender of, to the British—General Lincoln and his army made prisoners at—ill treatment by the British of the prisoners taken at, ii. 673;
effect in the South of the fall of, ii. 674;
evacuation of, by the British, iii. 12;
reception of Washington at, on his southern tour in 1791, iii. 181.

Charlestown, set on fire by order of General Gage—description of the carcass used at (note), ii. 565.

Charlotte, General Greene at, ii. 699.

Chase, the, Washington's chief amusement before the Revolution, i. 309.

Chase, Samuel, in the commission appointed to form a union with Canada, ii. 144.

Chastellux, chevalier de, his description of hospitality as it was at Mount Vernon, i. 288;
letter of Washington to, respecting his northern tour in 1783, iii. 27.

Chatham, earl of, Revolutionary measures deprecated by (note), i. 366;
extract from a speech of, on the free spirit of the colonies, i. 371;
on the infatuation of government in provoking resistance in the colonies, i. 412;
language of, in commendation of the proceedings of the continental Congress, i. 448;
his commendation of the state-papers of the first continental Congress, i. 450;
correspondence of, with Lady Chatham, in relation to American affairs, i. 487;
letter of, to Lord Stanhope, relative to American affairs—Franklin introduced into the house of lords by, i. 488;
proposition made by, in the house of lords, that the troops should be removed from Boston—extraordinary speech of, in support of his proposition, i. 489;
little influence of the speech of, within the house, i. 491;
profound sensation caused out of doors by the speech of—remark of Franklin respecting the speech of—friends of, in the house of lords—plan of, for the settlement of troubles in America—Franklin consulted by, in the preparation of his plan of settlement (note), i. 492;
hurried rejection of the plan of, in the house of lords—plan of, approved by Franklin, i. 493;
confined to his house with the gout, ii. 7;
last speech of, in Parliament, ii. 608.

(See William Pitt.)

Chatham, Lady, unwillingness of, that Lord Pitt should bear arms against the colonists (note), i. 686.

Chaudière, valley of the, reminiscences of the “good Bostonians" still preserved in, i. 696.

Cherokees, Colonel Montgomery sent against in 1760—subdued by Colonel Grant in 1761, i. 302.

Cherry Valley desolated by Butler and Brant, ii. 642.

Chesapeake bay, arrival of the British fleet in—movements of his army directed toward, by Washington, ii. 495;
landing of Sir William Howe and his army at the head of, ii. 497;
night of peril passed on, by Washington, on his southern tour, iii. 178.

Chester, retreat of the American army to, from the Brandywine, ii. 507.

Chew, Chief Justice, banishment of, to Fredericksburg, i. 461.

Chew's house, loss of the battle of Germantown owing to the delay at, ii. 554.

Childhood, frame of Washington precociously large in, i. 57.

Christ church, in Philadelphia, divine service attended at, by the second continental Congress, i. 609.

Christianity, Washington a sincere believer in, iii. 576.

Church, Doctor Benjamin, placed by Congress at the head of the army hospital, i. 612;
convicted of treasonable correspondence (note), i. 613.

Church of England, Washington a communicant of, i. 336.

Cilley, Colonel, captured cannon turned upon the British by, at Bemis's Heights, ii. 531.

Cincinnati, Society of, instituted—deep interest felt by Washington in—Washington and Hamilton successive presidents of, iii. 23;
address from the members of the, in Boston, iii. 131.

Citizen Genet, a privateer fitted out at Charleston by Genet—the arrest of American citizens on board, iii. 259;
irritation of Genet at the arrests on, iii. 260.

City Tavern, Philadelphia, meeting at, of delegates to the first continental Congress, i. 454;
convention to form the constitution adjourn to, iii. 73;

Washington and suite entertained at, in 1789, iii. 86.

Clarke, Major George Rogers, operations of, in the West, ii. 652;
biographical notice of, ii. 653.

Clergy, sides taken by the various denominations of, during the progress of the Revolution, i. 463.

Clinton, Colonel James, at Fort Constitution, ii. 219;
bayonet-wound received by, ii. 545.

Clinton, General George, energy and activity of, in defence of New York, ii. 219;
troops assembled by, at Fort Montgomery, ii. 220;
at Fort Montgomery with New York militia, ii. 235;
efforts of, to prevent the passing of the Rose and Phoenix, ii. 236;
three thousand men under the command of, at Kingsbridge, ii. 241;
silver bullet taken by, from a spy—silver bullet still in possession of the family of (note), ii. 547;
letter of Washington to, communicating the news of the signing of the treaty of peace, iii. 21;
northern tour of Washington in company with, in 1783, iii. 27;
reception of Washington by, in New York, in 1789, iii. 89;
a candidate for the vice-presidency in 1792, iii. 222.

Clinton, General Sir Henry, a volunteer at Breed's hill, i. 567;
biographical notice of, i. 620;
placed in command of a redoubt on Bunker's hill, i. 744;
arrival of, in the harbor of New York—peaceful professions of, and departure, ii. 42;

Robert Howe and Cornelius Harnett excepted from the proclamation of pardon by, ii. 185;
proclamation offering pardon laughed at by the people of Charleston, ii. 190;
night-march of, from Flatlands to the heights overlooking Bedford, ii. 269;
capture of the fortresses in the Hudson Highlands by, ii. 542, 545;
messenger of, bearing a silver bullet to Burgoyne, hanged as a spy, ii. 547;
activity of, in New York—scheme of Washington for the abduction of, ii. 606;

Washington dissuaded by Hamilton from attempting the abduction of, ii. 607;
reduction of the force under the command of, ii. 617;
evacuation of Philadelphia admirably managed by, ii. 617;
slow march of, through New Jersey, ii. 619;
emissaries of, to the Pennsylvania mutineers, hanged as spies, ii. 709.

Clothes of Washington, before the Revolution, obtained from London, i. 306.

Coach, fine one kept by Washington in 1789, iii. 113.

Cobble hill, intrenchments cast up on, by troops under Generals Putnam and Heath, i. 761.

Cochran, Captain, powder-receiver at Charleston (note), i. 521.

Cochran, Doctor John, letter of Washington to, on the style of living at West Point (note), ii. 660.

Coffin of Washington, inscriptions on, iii. 558.

Cohoes falls, retreat of Schuyler to, ii. 484.

Collier, Sir George, ravages by the squadron of, on Elizabeth river, ii. 653;
assistance rendered by, to Sir Henry Clinton on the Hudson—ravages of, in Connecticut, ii. 654;
destruction of an American flotilla by, in Penobscot bay, ii. 661.

Collins, Captain, powder belonging to the province of Virginia seized by, in 1775, i. 518.

Colonies, new era in the history of, i. 69;
pay of troops raised in (note), i. 102;
growth of democratic ideas in, i. 228;
a viceroyalty suggested for, i. 229;
little indebted to the mother-country, i. 315;
cost of the French and Indian war to (note), i. 316;
commercial policy of England toward, i. 321.

Colonists, French and English, characteristics of, i. 67, 68.

Commission as colonel resigned by Washington in 1754, i. 126;
commission as commander-in-chief received by Washington, form of (note), i. 540;
resignation of, by Washington, iii. 35.

"Common Sense,” a pamphlet by Thomas Paine, powerful influence of, ii. 12;

General Lee's opinion of it (note), ii. 41.

Concord, troops sent by General Gage to seize the stores at, i. 503;
preparations made at, to resist the troops under Colonel Smith—militia assembled at, under Colonel Barrett, i. 506;

British attacked by Major Buttrick at—stores at, partially secured, i. 507.

Confederation, old, discussions that led to the abandonment of, iii. 55;
resolutions of the New York legislature in relation to, iii. 56.

Congregationalists opposed to the rule of Great Britain, i. 463.

Congress, general colonial, proposition for, by the Massachusetts assembly, i. 327;
copy of the circular letter of Massachusetts, inviting (note), i. 330;
meeting of, in New York—names of the delegates to (note), i. 331;
proceedings of, applauded by the provincial assemblies, i. 332;
recommended by Franklin, i. 390, 392.

Congress, continental, proposed by Virginia in 1774, i. 390;
simultaneous proposition for, by Virginia and Massachusetts, i. 393;
the first, importance of, to the best interests of mankind, i. 408;
almost simultaneous declaration of the colonies in favor of, i. 409;
names of the delegates to (note), i. 411:

assembling of, at Philadelphia, in 1774, i. 413;
journeys of the delegates to, like ovations—journey of Washington to, in company with Patrick Henry and Edmund Pendleton, i. 417;
reception of the delegates to, in Philadelphia—honors paid to the delegates to, from Massachusetts, i. 419;
account of the organization of, i. 420-422;

Peyton Randolph chosen president of—Charles Thomson chosen secretary of, i. 421;
noble character of the men composing, i. 422;
opening speech of Patrick Henry in, i. 423;
regulations adopted by, i. 425;

Mr. Duché requested to read prayers in, i. 426;

Washington the only delegate who knelt during prayer in, i. 429;
names of the first committee appointed by—difficult points to be decided at, i. 430;
resolves of the Suffolk county convention laid before, i. 432;
resolution of, limiting its action to infringed rights—duration of the sessions of (note), i. 484;
non-importation resolutions offered in, by R. H. Lee, i. 435;
dangerous plan of union submitted to, by Joseph Galloway, i. 435, 437;
non-exportation proposed and debated in, i. 430;
great diversity of opinion in, among the delegates—loyal address to the king resolved on by—opposition of the Virginia delegates in, to non-exportation (note), i. 438;
declaration of rights unanimously adopted by, i. 440;
the American Association signed by every delegate present at, i. 441;
the petition of Congress to the king, the last public act of, i. 446;
profound sensation produced everywhere by the publication of the proceedings of, i. 447;
sympathy with, expressed by Chatham in a letter to Stephen Sayre, i. 448;
no record of the part Washington took in, i. 449;

Washington the best informed man in, i. 450;
state-papers of, i. 450, 485.

Congress, second continental, journey of Washington to, in company with Patrick Henry and Benjamin Harrison—organization of—secrecy of the proceedings of, i. 528;
resolution of, respecting the spoils taken at Ticonderoga by Ethan Allen, i. 529;

Washington appointed chairman of the committees of, on military affairs—"conciliatory resolutions" of Lord North laid before—vigorous preparations of, for the defence of the country—resolution of, to petition the king, i. 530;
address of, to the inhabitants of Canada—day of fasting and prayer appointed by, i. 531;
resolution of, to raise companies of riflemen, i. 532;

John Adams's account of the deliberations of, as to the choice of a commander-in-chief, i. 533-535;
instructions of, to Washington, as commander-in-chief (note), i. 540;
major generals appointed by, i. 545-547;
brigadier-generals appointed by, i. 548;
measures of, in relation to the issue of paper money, i. 549;
regulations of, for the army, i. 551;
letters of Washington to, i. 578, 587-595, 726;
loyalty to the king declared by, i. 600;
declaration adopted by, setting forth the causes for armed resistance, i. 600;
the idea of reparation from the mother-country repudiated by, i. 603, 607;
letter of thanks of, to the lord-mayor and corporation of London, i. 603;
petition to the king, written by John Dickinson, adopted by, i. 605;
address to the people of Great Britain adopted by, i. 606;
commissioners of Indian affairs appointed by—services at Christ church attended by, on the fast-day, i. 609;
addresses of, to the assembly of Jamaica, and to the people of Ireland—"conciliatory resolution" of the house of commons taken into consideration by, i. 610;

Franklin placed at the head of the post-office department by—army hospital established by, i. 612;
adjournment of, i. 613;
wise caution of, i. 614;

"declaration" of, read to the troops in camp, i. 617;
jealous of concentrated military power—deference of, to the opinions of Washington in military matters, i. 621;
refusal of Washington to part with detachments for coast-defence, sanctioned by, i. 624;

Colonels Allen and Warner introduced upon the floor of, i. 652;
the Green Mountain Boys recommended by, for the invasion of Canada, i. 653;
members of, in the camp at Cambridge, i. 681, 729;
questions submitted by Washington to the committee of, sitting at Cambridge, i. 735;
resolutions adopted by, for a reorganization of the army at Cambridge, i. 738;
attention of, called to the necessity of organizing a naval force, i. 740;
letters of Washington to i. 744, ii. 363;
resolution of thanks of, to Washington, on the evacuation of Boston, ii. 78;
medal in gold ordered by, ii. 79;
action of, with regard to loyalists and tories, ii. 92;
the attention of, drawn to affairs in Canada, ii. 93;
committee appointed by, for the purpose of maintaining a European correspondence, ii. 124;

Washington invited to the floor of—recommendations of Washington adopted by, ii. 159;

"Board of War and Ordnance" appointed by, ii. 160;
resolution of, in relation to the claims of Generals Schuyler and Gates, ii. 248;
measures taken by, for a more permanent organization of the army, ii. 305;
adjourned to Baltimore—almost unlimited powers granted by, to Putnam in Philadelphia, ii. 362;
create Washington dictator for six months, ii. 364;
of 1777 inferior to that of 1774-'5, ii. 431;
increased powers granted to Washington by, after the battle of the Brandywine, ii. 509;
letter of Hamilton to George Clinton on the degeneracy of, ii. 592;
degeneracy of, lamented by Washington, ii. 648, 670;
adjournment of, to Princeton, iii. 26;
little confidence of the mass of the people in, iii. 53.

Congress, federal, scene in on the occasion of Washington's opening address, iii. 95, 590;
executive departments established by, in 1789, iii. 118;

Hamilton's report on finance made to, in writing, iii. 139;
remarks of Washington upon that of 1790, iii. 161;
messages of Washington to, iii. 171, 192, 378, 454;
party spirit manifested in, iii. 199, 230;
charges brought against Hamilton in, iii. 231;
defensive measures urged upon, by Washington, iii. 284;
language of Washington to, respecting Genet, iii. 285;
debate in, as to the propriety of the consideration of any question with closed doors—the first committee of ways and means appointed in—act passed by, in 1794, for providing a naval armament—money-tribute to Algiers advocated in, iii. 294;
debate in, respecting the treaty-making power—debate in, respecting a resolution offered by Edward Livingston, iii. 391;
message of Washington to, on refusing to furnish papers relating to Jay's treaty (note), iii. 396;
last annual message of Washington to, iii. 454;
language of the two houses of, in reply to Washington's last annual message, iii. 457;
special session of, convened by President Adams, in 1798—extract from the address of Adams to, iii 494;
measures of, for national defence, in 1798, iii. 506;

Washington present at the opening of, in 1798, iii. 525;
resolutions of, on the occasion of the death of Washington, iii. 562, 564.

Congress, provincial, of Massachusetts, John Hancock president of—Benjamin Lincoln secretary of—address of, to General Gage, i. 468;
explanations made to, by General Gage—preparations for armed resistance made by, i. 469;
proceedings of, denounced by General Gage—minute-men enrolled by, i. 470.

Connecticut, opposed to Franklin's plan for the union of the colonies, i. 128;
ill feeling toward General Schuyler among the troops from, (note), i. 705;
minute-men summoned to supply the place of troops from, i. 759;

Governor Trumbull and General Greene on the conduct of the troops of (note), i. 760;
arrival in the camp at New York of a troop of light-horse from, ii. 231;
refusal of the troop from, to do duty, ii. 232;
bad conduct of troops from, at Kip's bay, ii. 295.

Connolly, Doctor John, the side of the crown taken by, ii. 20;
imprisoned at Baltimore, ii. 21.

Constitutional Society of England, money sent by, by the hand of Franklin, for the sufferers at Lexington—John Horne Tooke, the philologist, a prominent member of (note), i. 737.

Constitution, federal, convention to form, iii. 56-73;
names of the signers of (note), iii. 72;
anecdote of Franklin in connection with the signing of, iii. 73;
submitted by Congress to the state legislatures, iii. 74;

Henry, Mason, and Lee, adverse to, iii. 77;
when ratified by the several states (note), iii. 78;
backwardness of some of the states in ratifying, iii. 98;
subject of the amendment of, before Congress, in 1789, iii. 119;
adopted by Rhode Island in 1790, iii. 162;
considered by Hamilton inadequate to its functions, iii. 187.

Contemplations, Moral and Divine, extracts from, i. 30-34.

Continental army, condition and discipline of—dress and accoutrements of (note), i. 553;
position and numbers of, when adopted by Congress, i. 554;
command of, formally taken by Washington, i. 586;
letters of Washington to Congress respecting the condition and position of, i. 587-595;
first general order issued by Washington to (note), i. 588;
hunting-shirts recommended by Washington for the use of, i. 592;
dissatisfaction produced in, by several appointments of general officers—returns of, presented by General Gates (note), i. 593;
deficiency in the numbers, discipline, and stores of, i. 594;
details respecting its condition, by a chaplain, i. 595;
great deficiency in its supply of ammunition, i. 596, 625;
disposition of, by Washington, at the siege of Boston, i. 619;
want of powder in, i. 625;
trouble caused in, by sectional jealousies—petty conspiracies among the subordinate officers of, i. 756;
letter of Washington to Colonel Reed, complaining of the mercenary spirit pervading, i. 757;
early departure of the Connecticut troops from, i. 758;
weakness of, in January, 1776, ii. 13, 14;
letter of Washington to Colonel Reed on the condition of, ii. 15;
names of officers of the new regiments of (note), ii. 403;
excellent footing of, in the spring of 1777, ii. 404;
kind of punishments inflicted in (note), ii. 501;
personal popularity of Washington in, ii. 604;
committee appointed by Congress to inquire into the condition of, ii. 667;
great reduction in the force of, ii. 668, 699;
destitution of, ii. 669;
necessities of, supplied by Pennsylvania, ii. 670;
measures adopted by Congress to increase the efficiency of, ii. 699;
winter-quarters of the various divisions of, in 1780-'81, ii. 702;
discontents in, in 1782, iii. 7, 15;
gradual disbandment of, in 1783, iii. 22;
circular letter of Washington to state governors in relation to the disbandment of, iii. 23;
last general order of Washington to (note), iii. 29.

Continental money, great depreciation of—the whole country flooded with counterfeits of, ii. 666.

Continental Village, destruction of, by Governor Tryon (note), ii. 548.

Continentalist, a series of papers written by Alexander Hamilton, iii. 56.

Contrecœur, French commandant at Fort Le Bœuf, in 1754, i. 97.

Convention, commercial, suggestion of Washington concerning, iii. 55, 56.

Convention, National, of France, pen-picture of (note), iii. 387.

Convention to amend the confederation proposed, iii. 59;

Washington placed at the head of the Virginia delegation to, iii. 60;
circumstances which induced Washington to attend, iii. 61;
books read by Washington before attending, iii. 62;
meeting and organization of—Washington elected president of, iii. 63;
names of the delegates to (note), iii. 64;

Franklin a conspicuous member of—distinguished men in, iii. 65;
resolutions of Edmund Randolph in, iii. 66;
warm debates in—part taken by Hamilton in, iii. 68;
apprehensions of Washington as to the final result of, iii. 70;
influence of Washington in, iii. 71;
adjournment of, iii. 73.

Conway, General, letter of Washington to Congress, adverse to his appointment as major-general, ii. 575;
supposed author of a pamphlet injurious to the character of Washington—anonymous letters in disparagement of Washington written by, ii. 576;
appointed inspector-general, and raised to the rank of major-general, by Congress, ii. 578;
short and sharp letter of Washington to—dismay in the Cabal caused by Washington's letter to, ii. 581;
thorough exposure of the character of—resignation of, accepted by Congress, ii. 589;
severely wounded in a duel with Cadwalader—penitent letter written to Washington by, while in the expectation of speedy death—recovery of, and return to France, ii. 690.

Conway's Cabal, history of, ii. 574;
existence of, discovered by Washington—Colonel Wilkinson's agency in exposing, ii. 579;
exposure of, to the world, ii. 584;
letter of Washington to Patrick Henry in relation to, ii. 590.

Cook, Captain James, the navigator, with Wolfe at Quebec, i. 293.

Cooke, Governor Nicholas, of Rhode Island, cheering letter written to Washington by, i. 597;
supply of powder sent by, to the camp at Cambridge, i. 628;
acting governor of Rhode Island in place of Governor Wanton (note), i. 729.

Cornstalk, night-attack of, upon Colonel Lewis, i. 473.

Cornwallis, Lord, embarkation of, for North Carolina, with seven regiments, ii. 90;
outrages committed by the troops of, in North Carolina—Robert Howe's plantation desolated by, ii. 185;
march of, into Philadelphia, ii. 517;
congratulations of the Quakers offered to, ii. 518;
disappointment of, at not finding boats at Trenton—carelessness of, in stationing his troops in detachments, ii. 360;
hears “thunder" from Princeton, ii. 386;
stinging reply of Washington to, in relation to the brutal conduct of his troops, ii. 397;
attempt of, to surprise General Lincoln at Boundbrook, ii. 433;
weak and wicked policy of, in South Carolina, ii. 685;
dependence placed by, upon Tarleton and Ferguson, ii. 702;
alarm of, at the movements of Marion, ii. 703;
dangerous position of, ii. 705;
perilous situation of, at Yorktown, ii. 734;
surrender of, at Yorktown, ii. 734;
devastations of, in the South (note), ii. 736.

Correspondence, committees of, originated in Massachusetts, i. 382, 383.

Correspondence, intercolonial committees of, first appointed in Virginia, i. 382, 383;

Rhode Island first after Virginia in appointing—severe condemnation of, by “Massachuttensis,” i. 883.

Correspondence, burdensome nature of Washington's, in 1784, iii. 49;
extracts from Washington's with George W. P. Custis (note), iii. 531.

Council, executive, organization of, in 1789, iii. 118.

Courtship, Washington's, account of, by G. W. P. Custis, i. 276.

Coventry, earl of, prophetic speech of, ii. 9.

Cowpens, defeat of Tarleton by Morgan at, ii. 714.

"Cragie house,” now Longfellow's (note), i. 584.

Craik, Doctor James, at Great Meadows, i. 114;
at the battle of the Monongahela, i. 168;

Braddock's wounds dressed by, i. 170;
warning of, to Washington, as to his attack of dysentery in 1757, i. 245;
with Washington on his visit to the Ohio country in 1770, i. 358;

Indian chief seen by, who at the battle of the Monongahela had fired at Washington fifteen times, i. 360;
letter of, to Washington, in relation to the Conway Cabal, ii. 586;
western tour of, in company with Washington, in 1784, iii. 42;

Washington attended by, in his last illness, iii. 554.

Cramahé, approach of Arnold to Quebec disbelieved by, i. 696;
in Quebec during the siege by Arnold, i. 702.

Creeks, at war with Georgia in 1789, iii. 115;
difficulties of the United States with, in 1790—alliance of, with the Spaniards, iii. 154;

United States commissioners sent to treat with—Colonel Marinus Willett sent on a mission to—treaty made with, in 1790, iii. 155.

Cresap, Colonel, Washington a guest of, in 1748, i. 54;
innocent of the murder of Logan's relatives (note), i. 473.

"Crisis,” an anti-ministerial journal published in London and New York, in 1775 (note), i. 637.

"Crisis,” a series of pamphlets written by Thomas Paine in 1776-'7 (note), ii. 202.

Croghan, George, envoy from Pennsylvania to the Miamis, i. 71.

Cross Creek, in North Carolina, commission granted by Governor Martin to Highlanders at, ii. 114.

Crown Point, movements of the expedition against, under Colonel Johnson, i. 180;

Dieskau defeated, severely wounded, and made prisoner, while marching to the defence of, i. 182;
fortifications erected on, by Amherst, in 1759, i. 292;
surrender of, to Colonel Warner, in 1775, i. 526;
remains of the army of the north assembled at, ii. 250;
wretched condition of the troops at, ii. 250, 251;

Sullivan informed of his being superseded by General Gates at—efforts of Schuyler and Gates to reorganize the army of the north at—dilapidated condition of the fort at, ii. 251;

Washington unfavorable to the abandonment of—letters of Washington to Schuyler and Gates, in relation to the abandonment of, ii. 252;
possession taken of, by General Carleton, ii. 336.

Cully, old, his recollections of Washington's courtship, i. 278.

Culpepper county minute-men, description of the dress of, ii. 23.

Currency, continental, i. 549;
form of the bills of (note), i. 550.

Currency, decimal, origin of the, iii. 175.

Curtis, remarks of, on the convention to amend the federal confederation, iii. 65.

Cushing, William, appointed associate judge of the supreme court in 1789, iii. 122.

Custis, Daniel Parke, father of Martha Custis, i. 278.

Custis, Eleanor Parke, adopted by Washington, iii. 5;

Washington accompanied by, to Mount Vernon in 1797, iii. 479;
precepts inculcated by Washington into the mind of—letter of Washington to, on love and marriage, iii. 484;
a son of Charles Carroll of Carrollton a suitor for the hand of, iii. 486;
anecdote respecting, told by Mr. Irving, iii. 487;
preparations for the marriage of, with Lawrence Lewis, iii. 531;
marriage of, at Mount Vernon, on Washington's birthday, in 1799, i. 432;
continental blue-and-buff suit worn by Washington at the wedding of, iii. 534.

Custis, George Washington Parke, adopted by Washington, iii. 6;
in college at Princeton in 1797—interesting correspondence of Washington with, preserved in the Custis family, iii. 479;
correspondence of, with Washington, respecting the attentions paid by young Carroll to his sister, iii. 487;
anxiety of Washington for the welfare of—negligence of, in the pursuit of his studies—extracts from the correspondence of Washington with (note), iii. 531;
aid-de-camp to General Pinckney in 1799, iii. 533;
lands bequeathed to, by Washington, near Alexandria, iii. 535, 541;
lands bequeathed to, surveyed by Washington's own hands in 1799, iii. 535;
absent from Mount Vernon at the time of Washington's death—his description of Washington's personal appearance when riding over his farms, iii. 586.

Custis, John Parke, son of Mrs. Washington, difficult task of Washington as the guardian of—plans of travel of, opposed by Mrs. Washington—particulars of the estate of, according to a letter of Washington (note), i. 376;
enamored of Miss Calvert—letter of Washington to Mr. Calvert, recommending a postponement of the marriage of, i. 377;
at King's college, in New York—Hamilton a fellow-student with—effect upon, of the death of his sister, i. 378;
marriage of, to Miss Calvert, in 1774—letter of Washington to Doctor Cooper, in relation to the marriage of, i. 379;

Washington's aid, ii. 730;
death of, at Eltham—children of, adopted by Washington, iii. 5.

Custis, Martha, introduction of Washington to, i. 277;
marriage of, to Washington, in January, 1759, i. 287.

Custis, Miss, daughter of Mrs. Washington, sickness of, i. 375;
death of, at Mount Vernon, in 1773, i. 378.

Customs commissioners mobbed in Boston, i. 345.

D.

Dagworthy, Captain, position of, settled by Governor Shirley, i. 201.

Dallas, Alexander J., hostility of, to Jay's treaty, iii. 353.

Dalrymple, Colonel, reserve of troops left under the command of, at Staten Island, ii. 263.

Danbury, expedition to destroy stores at, under Governor Tryon, ii. 433;
private as well as public property destroyed at, ii. 435.

Dancing-days of Washington over in 1799 (note), i. 310.

Dandridge, Bartholomew, private secretary of Washington—letter of Washington to, expressing approbation of his conduct, iii. 479;
provision in the will of Washington respecting the heirs of, iii. 538.

Dartmouth, Lord, instructions of, to General Gage, as to his conduct in Massachusetts, i. 415;
reply of an American to a remark of, as to the number of delegates to the first Congress (note), i. 441.

D'Aubrey, Colonel, defeated and made prisoner by Sir William Johnson near Fort Niagara, i. 291.

Davenant, Sir William, expedition of, intercepted by Cromwell's fleet (note), i. 20.

Davidson, John, Indian interpreter with Washington on his Ohio expedition, i. 76, 78.

Davie, Governor William R., associated with Murray as envoy to France in 1799, iii. 529.

Davis, Reverend Thomas, volumes presented to, by Washington, at the marriage of Nelly Custis, iii. 534;
invited to officiate at the funeral of Washington, iii. 558.

Deane, Silas, sent to Paris as a secret agent of Congress—his unfitness for the trust, ii. 125;
embarrassing engagements entered into by, ii. 444.

Dearborn, Captain, his dog eaten by famishing soldiers in Arnold's Quebec expedition (note), i. 694;
made prisoner at the siege of Quebec, i. 721.
Death of Washington, iii. 556;
why no clergyman was present at, iii. 557;
action of Congress on receiving intelligence of, iii. 562;
sensation produced in Europe by the news of (note), iii. 570.

De Beaujeu, Captain, intrusted with the ambuscade at the battle of the Monongahela, i. 166;
death of, in the battle, i. 167.

De Berdt, Dennis, letter of, brought from England by Lord Howe, ii. 223;
a copy of the letter of, sent to Washington and to Congress, ii. 224.

Deborre, General, disaster brought upon the American army by, at the battle of the Brandywine, ii. 510.

Debt, foreign, of the United States in 1790, according to Hamilton—domestic, in 1790, iii. 140.

Declaration of Independence, ii. 209;
copies of, signed only by John Hancock, distributed throughout the country—signed on the second of August, 1776, ii. 213;
proofs of the allegations contained in, where to be found (note),—names of the delegates who signed (note),—original parchment of, much injured by a writing-master in 1818 (note), ii. 213;
order issued by Washington to the troops in New York in relation to, ii. 214;
publicly read in New York on the tenth of July—influence of, upon the popular mind in Europe, ii. 215;
comments of Mirabeau and Napoleon upon, ii. 216;
read to the army of the north at Fort Independence, ii. 254.

Declaration of Rights adopted by the first continental Congress, written by Samuel Adams (note), i. 453.

Declaratory act, why supported by William Pitt—condemnation of, by Gadsden, i. 340;
apprehensions of Washington respecting, i. 341;
right claimed by, denied by the colonial assemblies, i. 343.

Decoudray, Major-General, his expectations of rank in the American army—letter of Washington to Congress in relation to the claims of—biographical notice of (note), ii. 445.

De Fermoy, folly of, at Ticonderoga, ii. 465.

De Grasse, arrival of the fleet of, in the Chesapeake, ii. 729;

Admiral Graves attacked by, off the capes of Virginia, ii. 730;
visit of Washington to, ii. 731.

De Heister, part taken by, in the battle of Long Island, ii. 272.

De Kalb, Baron, slow march of, to the relief of Charleston, ii. 676;
mortally wounded in the battle at Sanders's creek—biographical notice of (note), ii. 683.

Delaplace, Ticonderoga surrendered by, to Ethan Allen, i. 525.

Delaware river, baggage and stores of Washington removed across, ii. 353;
army sent across by Washington during the night—boats on, destroyed by order of Washington, ii. 354;
weakness of Washington's army at the time of his retreat over, ii. 361;
gravity of Washington after his retreat over, ii. 366;

Washington's plan for attacking the British posts on, ii. 368;

Christmas-day appointed by Washington for attacking the British on, ii. 369;
troops ferried over by Colonel Glover and Marblehead fisherman, ii. 370, 371;
letter of Gates presented to Washington at, by Wilkinson, ii. 370;
voice of Knox heard across, ii. 371;
passage of the American army to the Jersey side, ii. 381;
attempt of Sir William Howe to destroy the obstructions in, ii. 551;
efforts of Howe to get possession of the forts on, ii. 559;
loss of the forts on, owing to the selfish ambition of General Gates, ii. 561, 563;
destruction of the American fleet on—full possession of, obtained by the British, ii. 563;
crossed by Washington in pursuit of Sir Henry Clinton, ii. 618;
rapid march of the allies toward, ii. 726.

De Levi, march of, upon Quebec, i. 300;
rapid retreat of, to Montreal, i. 301.

Departments, executive, not organized in 1789, iii. 102;
when established by Congress, iii. 118.

Desertions, frequency of, from the continental army, ii. 416.

D'Estaing, Count, arrival of the fleet of, in the Delaware—departure of, for Sandy Hook, ii. 686;
correspondence of, with Washington—attempt to destroy the British fleet in Raritan bay abandoned by, ii. 637;
arrival of, at Newport—departure of, from Newport, to meet the fleet of Lord Howe—return of, to Newport, and subsequent departure for Boston, ii. 638;
exasperation caused by the conduct of, ii. 639;
letter of, to Congress, relative to his abandonment of Rhode Island—soothing letter written to, by Washington, ii. 640;
departure of, for the West Indies, ii. 644.

Detroit, relieved by Colonel Bradstreet in 1764, i. 267.

Devotion, private, of Washington, iii. 602.

De Wessingtons, knights of the palatinate of Durham, i. 18.

De Yrujo, Spanish embassador, dress of, iii. 599.

Diary of Washington, extract from, in relation to his visit to Boston in 1789 (note), iii. 128, 129;
extract from, describing the opening of Congress in 1790 (note), iii. 138;
extract from, in relation to Morris's mission to England, iii. 157.

Dick, Doctor, called in, at Washington's last illness, iii. 554.

Dickinson, John, of Pennsylvania, influence of his Quaker friends upon (note), i. 463;
petition to the king written by, adopted by the continental Congress, i. 605;
views of, on the terms of reconciliation brought by Lord Howe, ii. 224.

Dictator, Washington made, ii. 364;
emotions of Washington on receiving the resolution conferring the powers of, ii. 380;
wise exercise by Washington of his powers as, ii. 400.

Dieskau, Baron, departure of, from France, for the St. Lawrence, in 1755, i. 177;
defeat of, by Colonel William Johnson, at Lake George—wounded and a prisoner, i. 182;
subsequent history of (note),—designs of, in case of success (note), i. 183;

General Lyman's share in the defeat of, i. 182, 184;
defeated by New England men. i. 184;
parliamentary grants to the provinces that contributed to the defeat of, i. 229.

Diet of Washington when at Cambridge, i. 616.

Dignity of manner of Washington, iii. 576.

Dinner, farewell, of Washington, on the eve of his retirement from the presidency, iii. 471.

Dinner-hour of Washington, iii. 586.

Dinner-table of Washington, iii. 588.

Dinwiddie, Governor, measures against the French on the Ohio recommended by, i. 74;

Washington sent by, to the French commandant on the Ohio, i. 75;
efforts of, in anticipation of the French and Indian war, i. 93;
disputes of, with the Virginia house of burgesses, i. 94;
efforts of, to raise troops to meet the French on the Ohio, i. 95;
letter of Washington to, complaining of the inadequate pay of the colonial army officers, i. 102;
measures of, after the surrender of Fort Necessity, i. 124;
remark of, respecting colonial assemblies, i. 129;
duplicity of, in his conduct toward Washington, i. 131, 237, 244;
refusal of, to give up the prisoners taken by Washington in the skirmish with Jumonville, i. 132;
conduct of, in relation to prisoners, retaliated by Contrecœur, i. 133;
letter of Washington to, after the battle of the Monongahela, i. 173;
opposed to the command of the Virginia forces being given to Washington, i. 187;
his recommendation of Washington for promotion, i. 194;
ambiguous orders of, to Washington, i. 217;
letters of Washington to, recommending offensive war on the Ohio, i. 221, 223;
correspondence of Washington with, in relation to Lord Loudonn, i. 236;
contemptible conduct of, toward Washington, i. 241;
letter of Washington to, in relation to certain slanders, i. 243;
departure of, for England—contrast between his character and that of Washington—death of, in 1770 (note), i. 246.

"Discourses on Davila,” essays published by John Adams, iii. 188.

Dismal swamp, project of Washington for draining—description of, i. 311;
the “Green sea" of, explored by Washington, i. 312.

District of Columbia, funds bequeathed by Washington for the endowment of a university in, iii. 48.

Districts, military, of Virginia, Washington in charge of one in 1751, i. 61.

Disunion, threatened in Virginia, in case Jay's treaty should be ratified, iii. 355.

Divine service, Washington a regular attendant upon, i. 337.

Documents, public, careful examination of, by Washington, iii. 114.

Donaldson, Mr., treaty with Algiers signed by, in 1795, iii. 380.

Donop, Count, mortally wounded in an attack upon Fort Mercer, ii. 560.

Donville, sent toward Fort Cumberland with a party of Indians—humane instructions of Dumas to—defeat of, by a Virginian named Paris—death of—scalp of, sent to Washington, and by him forwarded to Governor Dinwiddie, i. 209.

Dorchester Heights, proposed to be taken possession of and fortified, ii. 54;
preparations for the attempt upon, ii. 60, 61;
taken possession of, at night, by General Thomas—lines of fortification upon, drawn by Gridley, ii. 64;
alarm of Howe on seeing the American fortifications on—reinforcements taken to, by Washington, in anticipation of an attack by Earl Percy, ii. 65;
fortifications upon, strengthened by Washington, ii. 66;

British attack upon, prevented by a tempest, ii. 67.

Dorchester Neck, houses on, destroyed by order of General Howe, ii. 59;
cannonade upon Boston from, ii. 69.

Dress of Washington when president, iii. 589, 600, 603.

Drucour, Chevalier de, the defender of Louisburg, i. 261.

Drummond, Lord, flag of truce borne by—account of the previous movements of, ii. 257;
parole of honor violated by—reproof administered to, by Washington, ii. 258;
rumors respecting the mission of—subsequent acquaintance of, with General Lee (note), ii. 259.

Duché, Reverend Jacob, invited to read prayers in the continental Congress, i. 428, 528;
psalm read by, and prayer of, i. 429;
sermon preached by, on the fast-day, in Christ church, Philadelphia, before the continental Congress—extract from the sermon of, preached before Congress (note)—tory party subsequently joined by (note), i. 609;
republicanism abjured by (note), ii. 564;
letter of, to Washington, advising his abandonment of the Revolution (note)—death of, in Philadelphia, in 1794 (note), ii. 565.

Duer, President, incident related by, in connection with the retirement of Washington from office, iii. 475.

Dumas, General, pamphlet written by, on the military and political situation of France, iii. 499;
letter of, to Washington, iii. 500.

Dumas, M., letter of Franklin to, requesting him to become a diplomatic agent—biographical notice of (note), ii. 124.

Dumas, successor of Contrecœur at Fort Duquesne—humane instructions of, to Donville, i. 209.

Dunbar, Colonel, cowardly conduct of, after Braddock's defeat, i. 171, 172;
remark of Franklin on the retreat of, i. 172.

Dunmore, earl of, successor of Lord Botetourt as governor of Virginia—dislike of the people of Virginia for, i. 374;
unsuited for his position as governor, i. 375;
friendly relations of, with Washington, i. 375, 395;
claims of the soldiers to bounty-lands urged on, by Washington, i. 375;
assembly of Virginia dissolved by, i. 383, 392;
court circle of, at Williamsburg, i. 391;
ball in honor of the wife of, attended by Washington, i. 394;
training of the independent companies in Virginia warmly commended by, i. 471;
expedition of, against the Indians on the Scioto, in 1774, i. 472;
willingness of, to make peace, i. 473;
suspicions excited against, by his conduct of the campaign, i. 474;
powder of the province seized by, i. 517;
flight of, from Williamsburg, i. 520;
enmity of, toward the colonists, ii. 21;
defeat of the forces sent by, to destroy Hampton, ii. 22;
freedom proclaimed by, to slaves—republican printing-press, stolen by, from Norfolk, ii. 23;
defeat of, by the Virginians, near Norfolk, ii. 24;

Norfolk laid in ashes by, ii. 25;
atrocious plans of, discovered by means of an intercepted letter, ii. 26;
cruelties of, on the coasts of the southern states, ii. 108;
movements of, on the Elizabeth river, ii. 109;
ravages of, ii. 109, 110;
driven from Gwyn's island by General Andrew Lewis—Mount Vernon threatened by—slaves kidnapped by, from Virginia plantations—final departure of, from America, ii. 110.

Duquesne, French and English civilization contrasted by (note), i. 72.

Dwight, Doctor, on the popular feeling with regard to independence (note), ii. 200.

Dwight, Jasper, severe strictures by, upon Washington's Farewell Address—extract from a pamphlet by, charging Washington with being a slaveholder (note), iii. 477.

Dysentery, Washington attacked by, in 1757, i. 245.

E.

- Eagle, Lord Howe's flag-ship, attempt to destroy (note), ii. 285.

- Eastchester, Hessian chasseurs attacked near, by Colonel Hand, ii. 315.

- East India Company, proposition of, to Parliament, in relation to the tea-tax—brief notice of (note), i. 386;

- tea from the vessels of, not allowed to be sold, i. 387;

- tea of, thrown overboard in Boston harbor—compensation offered to, by the colonies, for the destruction of their tea, i. 388.

- Easton, Colonel, despatched by Montgomery to the mouth of the Sorel, to intercept Carleton, i. 699;

- capture of Carleton's fleet by, with prisoners and stores—General Prescott taken prisoner by—escape of Carleton from, to Quebec, i. 700.

- Echard, Mrs. Susan, interesting record left by, of the scene at the reading of Washington's Valedictory in 1797, iii. 473.

- Eden, Governor, of Maryland, government of Maryland abdicated by—treasonable correspondence of, ii. 184.

- Education, early, of Washington, i. 24.

- Education, interest taken by Washington in the cause of, iii. 48.

- Elizabeth river, ravages of Sir George Collier on, ii. 653.

- Elizabethtown Point, reception of Washington at, in 1789, by members of Congress, iii. 88.

- Ellicott, Andrew, surveys of the federal city made by, iii. 178.

- Embargo laid on British shipping in 1794, iii. 297.

- Enos, Colonel, his desertion of Arnold on the march to Canada, i. 692.

- Episcopacy, proposed by Bute and others to be established in the colonies (note), i. 314.

- Episcopal clergy, generally loyal during the Revolutionary struggle, i. 463.

- Estate of Washington, portions directed by his will to be sold, iii. 541.

- Etiquette, queries of Washington in relation to, addressed to Adams, Jay, Hamilton, and Madison, iii. 105.

- Eulogy, anonymous, on the character of Washington, on the back of a likeness by Sharpless, iii. 582.

- Eutaw Springs, battle at, iii. 3.

- Everett, Mr., remarks of, in relation to Washington's expedition to the Ohio, i. 92.

- Excise act, passed in 1791, iii. 174, 307;

- opposition made to, at Pittsburgh and elsewhere, in 1792, iii. 216;

- measures of Washington for the enforcement of, iii. 217;

- modification of, in 1792, iii. 309;

- resistance to, in western Pennsylvania, iii. 307-320;

- further efforts in Congress to amend, iii. 310;

- denounced by the Democratic societies—proclamation of Washington in support of (note), iii. 311.

- Executors of the will of Washington, iii. 542.

F.

Fairfax, Bryan, urged by Washington to become a candidate for the Virginia house of burgesses—much attached to the British government (note), i. 399;
letters of Washington to, urging the uselessness of petitions to the throne, i. 400, 405, 406;
conservative and timid, i. 400;
letter of, to Washington, in relation to the Revolutionary agitation, i. 414;
visit of, to Valley Forge—biographical notice of (note), ii. 603.

Fairfax county courthouse, resolutions adopted at, by Washington and others, in 1774, i. 401-405;
resolutions adopted at, readopted at the Williamsburg convention, i. 406.

Fairfax, George William, educated in England, i. 49;

Washington's first surveying expedition undertaken in company with, i. 53;
departure of, for England, to take possession of estates, i. 454.

Fairfax, Honorable William, father-in-law of Lawrence Washington, i. 43;
biographical notice of (note), i. 49.

Fairfax, Mrs., letter of Washington to, from Mount Vernon, in 1798, iii. 489.

Fairfax, Thomas, the sixth lord, antiquity of the family of—brief biographical notice of, i. 47;
personal appearance of, i. 48;
splendid fortune and large estates of, i. 48, 52, 220;
liberality and mode of living of, i. 49;
young Washington his companion in hunting, i. 50;
regard of, for young Washington, i. 51;
a contributor to the Spectator (note), i. 220.

Fairfax, Thomas, the tenth lord, at Woodburne, Maryland, in 1855 (note), i. 49.

Falls of the Potomac, hurt received by Washington at, iii. 303.

Falmouth, bombarded and burnt by a squadron under Lieutenant Mowatt, i. 733;
conduct of Mowatt at, disapproved of by the British ministry, i. 734.

Farewell Address, Washington's, iii. 427;
authorship of, according to Horace Binney (note), iii. 434;
sensation produced by, iii. 449;
strictures upon, by Jasper Dwight, of Vermont, iii. 477.

Farewell dinner of Washington on the eve of his retirement from office, iii. 471.

Farms of Washington, admirably managed by him, iii. 586.

Farnum, Jonathan, body of Doctor Warren identified by, i. 572.

Fauchet, M., appointed by the French government to succeed Genet—intercepted papers written by, placed in the hands of Washington—suspicion thrown on the integrity of Randolph by the papers of (note), iii. 361;
a mercenary spirit charged upon Americans by, iii. 362.

Fauquier, Governor, arrival of, from England, i. 258;
letter of Washington to, in relation to the abandonment of Fort Duquesne, i. 285;

Washington resigns his commission to, after the capture of Fort Duquesne, i. 286;
opposed to the stamp-act—adverse to a colonial Congress, i. 331.

Febiger, at the battle of Breed's hill, i. 568;
with Arnold at Quebec, i. 697.

Federal and Republican parties, origin of, iii. 151.

Federalist, a series of essays by Hamilton, Madison, and Jay, iii. 77;

Washington's opinion respecting (note), iii. 78.

Federalists, Hamilton their leader, iii. 188.

Ferguson, Captain Patrick, party of infantry under Count Pulaski surprised by—expedition of, against Little Egg Harbor, ii. 643;
dependence placed upon, by Cornwallis—body of tories raised by, in aid of Cornwallis—encampment of, at King's mountain, ii. 702;
defeat and death of, at King's mountain, ii. 703.

Field-sports, fondness of Washington for, iii. 584,

Finances, deplorable state of, in 1789, iii. 100.

Flatbush, halt of the British at, on the way to Brooklyn, ii. 264.

Fleury, Louis, a captain in the continental army, ii. 497;
bravery displayed by, at the battle of the Brandywine, ii. 510.

Folsom, Nathan, commander of New-Hampshire forces, i. 515.

Fontanes, Louis de, funeral oration pronounced by, in Paris, in honor of Washington, iii. 570.

Forbes, General, appointed by Pitt to command the expedition against Fort Duquesne in 1758, i. 253;
an early commencement of the campaign urged upon, by Washington—excessive caution of, i. 256;
advice of Washington to, in relation to military movements, i. 271;
anecdote of Indians in connection with the sickness of (note)—respect of, for the opinions of Washington, i. 279;
sickness and weariness of, on his approach to Fort Duquesne, i. 282;
death of, in Philadelphia (note), i. 285.

Forbes, the gunsmith, disclosures made by, of a tory conspiracy, ii. 175.

Forster, Captain, surrender of the fort at the Cedars to, ii. 149

Fort Anne, retreat of the Americans from, to Fort Edward, ii. 467.

Fort Constitution, General Greene left in command of, ii. 314.

Fort Cumberland, Washington ordered to, i. 125, 224;

Donville sent toward, i. 209;

Virginia troops assembled at, i. 269;
letter of Washington from, to Colonel Boquet, in relation to regimental clothing, i. 270;
a rendezvous of troops sent against the Whiskey Insurrection in 1794, iii. 318.

Fort Duquesne, effect at, of the news of Jumonville's death, i. 113;
expedition against, proposed by Braddock, i. 141;
history of Braddock's expedition against, i. 141-171;

M. Dumas, successor of Contrecœur at, i. 209;

General Forbes appointed to command the expedition against, in 1758, i. 253;
new road to, from Raystown, decided upon by General Forbes, i. 271;

Washington in favor of Braddock's road to, i. 273;
delays in the expedition against, i. 274, 279, 281;
effect in the camp at, of the news of the victory at Louisburg, i. 275;

Major Grant sent by Colonel Boquet to reconnoitre—sortie from, upon Grant's Highlanders, i. 280;
admirable conduct at, of the Virginians under Captain Bullitt, i. 281;

French at, deserted by the Indians—reward offered by General Forbes for a deserter from—British flag planted on the smoking ruins of, by Washington, on the 25th of November, 1758, i. 283;
name of changed to Fort Pitt—Pittsburgh now stands upon the site of, i. 284.

Fort Edward, cowardice of General Webb at, i. 250;
approach of Burgoyne to, ii. 480.

Fort Frontenac, expedition undertaken against, by Colonel Bradstreet—description of, i. 267;
surrender and demolition of—important influence of the surrender of, i. 268.

Fort Galpin, capture of, by Lee, iii. 2.

Fort George, at Coram, Long Island, surprised by Major Tallmadge, ii. 701.

Fort George, in New York, cannon removed from, by Captain Lamb, ii. 129.

Fort George, on Lake George, erected by Abercrombie in 1758, ii. 266;
letter of Washington to Schuyler, in relation to the abandonment of (note), ii. 470.

Fort Griswold, massacre at, ii. 727.

Fort Independence, opposite Ticonderoga, constructed by the advice of Colonel John Trumbull (note), ii. 252, 254.

Fort Independence, near Kingsbridge, disregard of the garrison of, of Heath's summons to surrender, ii. 399.

Fort Johnson, near Charleston, republican flag raised on, the first in the South—description of the flag raised on (note), ii. 186.

Fort Johnston taken possession of, by militia-men under Colonel John Ashe, ii. 113.

Fort Le Bœuf, Washington at, in 1753, i. 83.

Fort Lee, evacuation of, ordered by Washington—landing of Cornwallis near, ii. 337;
precipitate flight of the Americans from, ii. 338.

Fort Loudoun, erected by Washington at Winchester, in 1756, i. 214.

Fort Mercer, attack upon, by Hessians under Count Donop—gallant defence of, by Colonel Greene—Count Donop mortally wounded in the attack upon, ii. 560;
ineffectual attempt of General Greene to relieve, ii. 562.

Fort Mifflin, British attack upon, ii. 561;
escape of the garrison of, to Fort Mercer, ii. 562.

Fort Montgomery, completion of the obstructions at, recommended by Greene, Knox, and others, ii. 442;
vessels at, abandoned and burned by the republicans, ii. 545;
obstructions at, destroyed by the British fleet, ii. 546.

Fort Moultrie, formerly called Fort Sullivan, ii. 196.

Fort Necessity, letters of Washington from, to Governor Dinwiddie, i. 110;

Queen Aliquippa at, i. 113;
military road prepared near, by Washington, i. 116;

Washington determines to await the approach of De Villiers at, i. 118;
strengthened by Captain Robert Stobo—deserted by the Indians on the approach of the French, i. 120;
great caution of the French in attacking—capitulation of Washington at, i. 121;
terms of capitulation at, supposed to have been intentionally mistranslated by Van Braam, i. 122;
abandoned by Washington on the 4th of July, 1754, i. 123.

Fort Niagara, expedition against, in 1759, under Prideaux and Johnson—death of Prideaux before, i. 290;
skill and courage displayed by Sir William Johnson at the siege of—defeat of French and Indians near—capitulation of, to Sir William Johnson—garrison of, sent prisoners to New York, i. 291.

Fort Pitt, a portion of Washington's command left at, in 1758, in garrison, i. 284;
besieged by Shingis in 1763, i. 320;
visit of Washington to, in 1770, on his way to the Ohio country—White Mingo and George Croghan met by Washington at, i. 358.

Fort Putnam, Long Island, conflict witnessed by Washington from, ii. 273.

Fort Recovery, built by General Wayne in 1793, iii. 328.

Fort Schuyler, invested by St. Leger with a body of tories and Indians, ii. 484.

Fort Sullivan, erected by Colonel Moultrie, ii. 187;
attack made upon, by a British fleet, ii. 190;
the attack upon, as described by a British writer, ii. 192;
deficient supply of ammunition in—great loss of life in the British ships engaged in the attack upon, ii. 193;
name of, changed to Fort Moultrie, ii. 196;
great importance of the American victory at, ii. 197.

Fort Washington, Washington against attempting its defence, ii. 330;
surrender of, to General Howe—comparative loss of British and Americans at, ii. 331;
attack upon, proposed by Lafayette, ii. 701.

Fort William Henry, besieged by Montcalm in 1757—brave defence of, by Colonel George Monro, i. 250;
massacre at, by Montcalm's Indians (note)—total demolition of, by Montcalm, i. 251.

Forts, western, refusal of the British to give up according to the treaty of 1783, iii. 99.

Fosdyke, Captain, attempt of, to destroy the Rose and Phœnix, ii. 238.

Fox, Charles James, his commendation of American resistance, i. 339;
remarks of, on the character of Washington (note), iii. 290.

Fox-hunting at Mount Vernon, i. 309.

Frame of Washington, iii. 594.

France, designs of, against the English colonies, i. 65;
war declared against, by England, in 1756, i. 228;
sentiments of, toward England and the colonies, ii. 121;
communication made by a secret agent of, to Jay, Franklin, and Jefferson—letter of Captain William Hull, in relation to secret agents of (note), ii. 123;
arms and ammunition furnished by, in aid of the Americans, ii. 444;
selfish policy of the government of, toward England and America, ii. 541;
fête in the camp at Valley Forge, in celebration of the treaty with, ii. 611;
danger of relaxation of American efforts, on the conclusion of the treaty with, ii. 612;
the alliance with, a source of uneasiness to Washington, ii. 646;
commercial advantages sought by, in 1789, iii. 115;
disappointment caused to Lafayette by the course of the Revolution in, iii. 184;
progress of the Revolution in, 184-187;
nearly all Europe in arms against, in 1792—sympathy in the United States for the people of, iii. 220, 249, 273;
thoughts of wise men respecting the Revolution in, iii. 220;
disgust of Washington at the bloody character assumed by the Revolution in, iii. 221;
gloomy accounts of the Revolution in, written by Gouverneur Morris, from Paris, iii. 223;
efforts of Lafayette for the preservation of order in, iii. 224;
influence of the Revolution in, on American politics, iii. 236;
war declared by, against England, in 1793—king of, put to death by the National Convention, iii. 236;
enthusiasm in favor of, in the United States, in 1793—possessions of, in America, guarantied by the treaty of 1778, iii. 237.

little confidence of Washington in the government of, iii. 239;
cabinet meeting held by Washington to consider relations with, iii. 240;

British orders in council in relation to the colonial trade of, iii. 296;
toasts given at a civic feast in Philadelphia to celebrate the victories of (note), iii. 348;
a constitution established in, in 1795 (note), iii. 386;
pen-picture of the Convention of (note), iii. 387;
action of Congress on the presentation of colors of, by Adet, iii. 388;
annoyance of the government of, at the execution of Jay's treaty, iii. 442;

Charles Cotesworth Pinckney appointed minister to, in 1796, iii. 443;
depredations committed by the cruisers of, on American commerce, iii. 466, 492, 505;
war with, threatened in 1798, iii. 490;
address of the Directory of, to Monroe, on receiving his letters of recall, iii. 493;

Mr. Pinckney notified to leave—designs of the government of, toward the United States, iii. 494;
change in public opinion in regard to, iii. 495;
three special envoys sent to, in 1798, iii. 496;
attempts of the government of, to extort money from American envoys, iii. 501;
loan and bribe sought by the Directory of, iii. 502;
indignation of the American people excited against—conduct of, justified by the Aurora, iii. 505;
sustained by public sentiment in the southern states, iii. 507;
disbelief of Washington in the probability of war with, iii. 508, 510, 526, 527;
actual existence of war with, in 1799, iii. 529;
new mission to, deprecated by the friends of Adams—termination of the difficulties with, iii. 530.

Francis, Doctor, reminiscences of, in relation to the arrival of Genet, iii. 248, 249.

Franklin, Benjamin, his plan of union of the colonies, i. 127;
his opinion of the colonial governors—on the progress of the colonies—on the proprietaries of Pennsylvania, i. 144;
in the camp of Braddock—conversation of, with Braddock, i. 148;
urged by Braddock to procure wagons for the use of the army, i. 149;
provisions obtained through the efforts of, for the regiments of Dunbar and Halket—first meeting of, with Washington, at Fredericktown, in 1755—highly spoken of, by Braddock, in his despatches, i. 150;
his little confidence in Braddock's success, i. 165;
remark of, on Dunbar's retreat, after the defeat of Braddock, i. 172;
short military career of (note), i. 225;

Washington welcomed to Philadelphia by, in 1757, i. 239;
efforts of, in London, in opposition to the stamp-act, i. 324;
letter of, to Charles Thomson, in relation to the stamp-act, i. 325;
examination of, before a committee of Parliament, i. 334;
opinion of, as to the tea-tax, i. 369;
duplicity of Governor Hutchinson exposed by, i. 385;
insulted by Solicitor-General Wedderburne (note)—office of postmaster-general of the colonies taken from (note), i. 386;
general congress proposed by, i. 390, 392;
activity of, in circulating the state papers of the continental Congress, i. 485;
introduced by Lord Chatham into the house of lords, i. 488;
remark of, in relation to a speech of Lord Chatham's—compliment paid to, by Lord Chatham, in the house of lords (note), i. 492;
interviews of, with Admiral Howe and Miss Howe (note), i. 498;
letters of, to Mr. Strahan and Doctor Priestley (note), i. 605;
placed by the second continental Congress at the head of the post-office department—post-office account-book of, still preserved (note), i. 612;
letter of, to Doctor Priestley, on the progress of British arms in America, i. 641;
on the committee appointed by Congress to visit the camp at Cambridge, i. 729;
balance of salary paid to, by Massachusetts, for services as colonial agent—money sent from England by the hands of, for the sufferers at Lexington, i. 737;
at the head of a commission appointed to form a union with Canada, ii. 144;
return of, from Canada, in company with the Reverend John Carroll, ii. 146;
treaty of peace signed by, in 1782, iii. 15;
meeting of Washington with, in 1785, iii. 62.

Fraser, General, mortally wounded at the second battle near Bemis's Heights, on the 7th of October, 1777, ii. 532;
funeral of, at twilight, ii. 533.

Fraunces, Samuel, Washington's steward in New York, in 1789, iii. 112, 587;
anecdote of (note), iii. 169, 587.

Fraunces's Tavern, parting of Washington and his officers at, in New York, iii. 33.

Frazier, trading-house of, on the Monongahela, i. 77, 91.

Frederick the Great, contempt of, for the German mercenaries, ii. 10;
his opinion of Washington's achievements in the Jerseys (note), ii. 394;
his appreciation of Washington as a general, iii. 580.

Fredericksburg (Patterson), camp of Washington at, ii. 642.

Fredericktown, Washington and Franklin meet at, for the first time, in 1756, i. 150.

Freemasons, desirous of being present at the funeral of Washington, iii. 538.

French and Indian War, cost of, to the colonies, i. 316.

French officers, blank commissions for, sent to Washington by Congress, ii. 446.

Freneau, Philip, editor of the National Gazette in 1791, iii. 197.

Jefferson's own account of his connection with the journal of, iii. 215;

Washington annoyed by the attacks of, iii. 253;
good done by the paper of, according to Jefferson—remarks of Irving respecting Jefferson's support of, iii. 254;

Washington's opinion of the journal of, iii. 268.

Frestel, M., arrival of. in the United States, with young Lafayette, in 1795, iii. 373;
letter of Washington to, in relation to young Lafayette, iii. 375;
encomium bestowed upon, by Washington, iii. 377;
with young Lafayette at Mount Vernon in 1797, iii. 479.

Fry, Colonel Joshua, commander of the troops destined for the Ohio in 1754—Washington his second in command, i. 96;
sudden death of, i. 113;
biographical notice of (note), i. 114.

Funeral honors paid by Congress to the memory of Washington, iii. 563.

"Funeral of George Washington,” a pasquinade, introduced by Knox at a cabinet council, iii. 269.

Funeral of Washington, iii. 558;
order of the procession at, iii. 559.

Funeral orations at the death of Washington, iii. 566, 570.

G.

Gadsden, Colonel Christopher, control of troops in Charleston assumed by, ii. 187;
confinement of, in the castle of St. Augustine, ii. 673;
hostility of, to Jay's treaty, iii. 354.

Gage, Colonel Thomas (afterward General), with Braddock in his expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 152;
friendly letter of, to Washington, i. 197;
troops of, brought into Boston, to awe the inhabitants, i. 345;
governor of Massachusetts in 1774, i. 396;
received in Boston with respect, i. 397;
contest of, with the Massachusetts assembly—fortifications built by, on Boston Neck, i. 398;
instructions of Lord Dartmouth to, as to his conduct in Massachusetts, i. 415;
fruitless attempts of, to prevent political assemblages, i. 416;
letter of Doctor Warren to, in relation to an agreement violated by him, i. 514;
martial law declared by, i. 552;
Charlestown set on fire by order of, i. 565;
anxiety of, to escape to New York, i. 627;
had been a personal friend of Washington, i. 630;
letters of Washington to, in relation to his treatment of prisoners, i. 631, 683;
verses on the cattle-stealing of, i. 638;
summoned to England by the king—biographical notice of (note), i. 730.

Gallatin, Albert, secretary of a convention in opposition to the excise laws in 1794, iii. 316;
resolution of Edward Livingston, demanding papers relating to Jay's treaty, sustained by, iii. 392;
conspicuous part taken by, in the debates on Jay's treaty, iii. 401;
remarks of Hildreth on the speech of—replied to, by Tracy, of Connecticut, iii. 404;
regard of Jefferson for, iii. 417.

Galloway, Joseph, dangerous plan of union of, i. 435;
plan of union of, opposed by Patrick Henry and Samuel Adams, i. 437;
plan of, rejected by a majority of one, i. 438;
subsequently a violent loyalist (note), i. 445;
agents of, hanged as spies and traitors, i. 462.

Gardner, Colonel, death of, while marching to the help of Prescott, at Breed's hill, i. 568.

Gaspé, account of the burning of the, i. 381.

Gates, Captain Horatio (afterward General), with Braddock in his expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 152;
chosen by Congress adjutant-general—biographical notice of, i. 546;
at the camp at Cambridge, i. 587;
appointed by Congress to the command of the army in Canada, ii. 153, 246;
sent to Philadelphia by Washington, to confer with Congress, ii. 156;
appointed major-general by Congress, ii. 157;
ambitious character of, ii. 245, 367, 420;
insinuations of, calculated to injure Schuyler, ii. 249;
extraordinary powers granted to, by Congress—unpleasant feelings produced in the army by the unusual powers granted to (note), ii. 246;
surprise of Schuyler at the conduct of—duplicity of, ii. 247, 420;
letter of Schuyler to Washington in relation to the claims of, ii. 248;
letter of, to Washington, in relation to the abandonment of Crown Point, ii. 253;
order and discipline restored by, to the army of the North, ii. 254;
appointed by Congress to the command of the army at Ticonderoga, ii. 420;
slanders of Schuyler written by—impertinent letter written by, to Washington, ii. 423;
refusal of, to act under Schuyler—admitted to the floor of Congress through the instrumentality of Roger Sherman, ii. 424;
machinations of, against Schuyler, ii. 477;
chosen by Congress to command the northern army, ii. 479;
literary vanity of (note), ii. 483;
military movements of, criticised by John Adams, ii. 516;
courteous reception of, by Schuyler, ii. 520;
estimate of the character of, by Gouverneur Morris, ii. 521;
force and position of the army of, at Bemis's Heights, ii. 523;
jealousy of, greatly excited against Arnold, ii. 526;
inactivity of, until after the capture of the Hudson highlands, ii. 528;
letter of Washington to, requesting the aid of Morgan's corps, ii. 549;
desire of, to see Washington entirely defeated, ii. 550;
conspiracy in Congress and the army to elevate, over Washington, ii. 564;
correspondence of, with Washington, in relation to a letter of Conway, ii. 582;
challenge sent to, by Wilkinson (note),—placed at the head of a new board of war, ii. 584;
intention of the friends of, to have him made commander-in-chief—expedition against Canada planned by, to detach Lafayette from Washington, ii. 585;
appointed by Congress to command the army of the South—prophetic warning of General Lee to, ii. 681;
great things expected from, in the South, ii. 682;
combined attack of Cornwallis and Rawdon upon—total defeat of, at Sanders's creek, ii. 683;
letter of, to Washington, after his defeat, ii. 684;
inquiry into the conduct of, at Camden, ii. 698;
meeting of officers at Newburg presided at by, iii. 18.

Genealogy of the Washington family, i. 17.

General Advertiser, edited by a grandson of Franklin—action of Genet supported by, iii. 259.

Genet, Edmund Charles, arrival of, at Charleston, in 1793—practical democracy of, iii. 288;
secret reasons of, for landing at Charleston—enthusiastic reception of, iii. 243;
letters of marque issued by, iii. 244;
reception of, at Philadelphia, iii. 244, 246;
abashed in the presence of Washington, iii. 246;
banquet given in honor of, in Philadelphia—offended at seeing a bust of Louis XVI. in the house of the president, iii. 247;

Doctor Francis on the reception of, in New York. iii. 248, 249;
complaints of Mr. Hammond of the conduct of—duplicity of, iii. 252;

Jefferson's opinion of the mission of, iii. 253;
letter of, to Jefferson, announcing his mission, iii. 254;
propositions of, not received with favor by the United States government, iii. 255;
letter of, to the secretary of state, in relation to privateers, iii. 258;
privateer fitted out by, ordered to leave American waters, iii. 259;
letter of, to Jefferson, in relation to the arrest of American citizens on board the Citizen Genet, iii. 260;
appeal of, from the president to the people—letter of, to Jefferson, on neutrality, iii. 261;
party contentions respecting the claims of, iii. 262;
outrageous conduct of, with regard to Le Petit Democrat—misapprehensions of, corrected by Jefferson, iii. 265;
government determines to request the recall of—irritation of Washington at the idea of a contest with, iii. 269;
required to give up all vessels captured by his privateers, iii. 270;
popularity of, in the Southwest, iii. 274;
visit of, to New York, iii. 276;
angry letter written by, to Jefferson, iii. 278;

Jefferson disgusted with, iii. 279;
revulsion of public feeling with regard to, iii. 280;
rebuke administered to, by Jefferson—Washington's course in relation to, approved by Congress, iii. 287;
recalled by the government of France—M. Fauchet appointed to succeed, iii. 295;
marriage of, to the daughter of Governor Clinton—death of, at Greenbush, in 1834, iii. 296.

Gentlemen Associators, inactivity of, i. 213, 251, 220.

George II., biographical notice of (note), i. 314.

George III., determination of, to bring the colonies into unconditional submission, i. 485;
caricature of, published in England, i. 486;
speech of, at the opening of Parliament in 1776, ii. 2;
electoral troops of (note), ii. 4;
goodness of heart of, ii. 10;
leaden statue of, in New York, converted into bullets, ii. 214;
portrait of, in Nassau Hall, Princeton, injured by a cannon-shot (note), ii. 389;
conversation of Jay with, in 1795, iii. 338;
ratification of Jay's treaty by, in 1790, iii. 390.

Georgia, colony of, planted in the year of Washington's birth, i. 17;
personal description of representatives from, in the continental Congress, in 1775 (note), i. 727;
invasion of, by Colonel Campbell—General Robert Howe, in command of the Americans in—command of the royal forces in, taken by General Prevost, ii. 650.

Germain, Lord George, his approbation of General Howe's abandonment of Boston, ii. 86, 89.

German mercenaries, high price paid for, by the British government, ii. 6;
employment of, condemned in the house of commons, ii. 7;
departure of, from England, for the St. Lawrence, ii. 89.

Germantown, army of Washington encamped at, ii. 489;
retreat of Washington to, after the battle of the Brandy wine—thirty hogsheads of rum sent to the troops at, by order of Congress, ii. 511;
account of the battle at, ii. 552-557;
the delay at Chew's house the cause of the loss of the battle of, ii. 554;
retreat of the American army at, covered by General Greene—comparative losses of the British and Americans at, ii. 556;
the British almost defeated at, ii. 557;
impression produced in Europe by the battle at, ii. 559;
proposed assemblage of Congress at, in 1793, iii. 282;
family of Washington at, in 1794, iii. 333.

Gerry, Elbridge, special envoy to France in 1798, iii. 496;
detention of, in France, by a threat of Talleyrand, iii. 504.

Gibbon, the historian, doubts of, as to British success in America—political character of (note), i. 495.

Giles, Mr., motion of, in Congress, to expunge certain language complimentary to Washington, iii. 460;
motion of, sustained by Andrew Jackson, iii. 461.

Gist, Christopher, employed by the Ohio Company, in 1750, to explore their lands, i. 71;

Washington's guide in his Ohio expedition, i. 76;
his narrative of adventures in company with Washington, i. 88;
guide of General Braddock, i. 161.

Glover, Colonel, evacuation of New York by patriot troops commenced under the superintendence of, ii. 294;
troops ferried over the Delaware by, ii. 370, 371.

Gordon, Doctor, letter of Washington to, denying any intention to resign the command of the army (note), ii. 588;
letter of Washington to, from Mount Vernon, in 1798, iii. 488.

Goshen meeting-house, retreat of Washington from, ii. 513.

Governors, colonial, meeting of, at New York, i. 201.

Governor's Island, taken possession of, by a body of continentals, ii. 84.

Grafton, duke of, advice given to the king by, ii. 5.

Graham, Catharine Macaulay, visit of, to Mount Vernon, iii. 48;
letter of Washington to, on the formation of the Federal Constitution, iii. 75.

Grahame, Doctor, on the character of Washington, i. 346, 536.

Grange, the, a British vessel, captured by L'Embuscade, iii. 245;
complaints of Mr. Hammond respecting the capture of, iii. 252;
restoration of, determined on by the American government, iii. 256.

Grant, Colonel (afterward General), Cherokees subdued by, in 1701, i. 302;
at the battle of Long Island, ii. 266, 271;
foolish boast of, in the house of commons, heard by Lord Stirling (note), ii. 266.

Grattan, the champion of civil and religious freedom, i. 370.

Graves, Admiral, arrival of, at New York, ii. 680;
attacked by De Grasse off the capes of Virginia, ii. 730.

Gray's ferry, triumphal arches reared at, in honor of Washington, in 1789, iii. 86.

Great Britain, suspected policy of, in relation to the American colonies, i. 67;
address of the second continental Congress to the people of, i. 606;
unsettled relations with, in 1793, iii. 271;
treatment of neutral shipping by, in 1793—services of British-born seamen claimed by, iii. 272;
western posts retained by—irritation of the American people against, in 1793—judicial decision respecting debts due to merchants of, before the Revolution, iii. 273;
war with, imminent in 1793-'4, iii. 283, 297;
discriminating duties as against, recommended by Jefferson, iii. 287;
subjects in dispute with, in 1795, iii. 336.

Great Kenawha, voyage of Washington down the Ohio to the mouth of, in 1770, i. 359;
ascended by Washington fourteen miles—Indian met with at, who had fired at Washington fifteen times, i. 360;
night-attack upon Colonel Lewis at, i. 473;
tour of Washington to visit, in 1784, iii. 42.

Great Meadows, Washington at, i. 104;

Fort Necessity erected at, i. 109;
rumored approach of De Villiers toward, with twelve hundred men, i. 117;
inactivity of South-Carolinians at, i. 118, 119;

Washington's comments on De Villiers's account of the affair at (note), i. 122;
killed and wounded at, i. 123;

Washington's conduct at, approved by the governor and council, i. 124.

Greaton, Captain, forage belonging to the British destroyed by, i. 617.

Greenburg hills, encampment of the allied armies among, ii. 723.

Greene, Lieutenant-Colonel Christopher, with Arnold in his expedition against Quebec, i. 683, 697;
murder of, ii. 721.

Greene, Nathanael, services of, in the field, commenced after the battle of Lexington, i. 513;
appointed brigadier-general in the continental army, i. 548;
address made by, to Washington, welcoming him to the camp at Cambridge, i. 615;
conduct of the New England troops defended by, i. 758;
defensive works prepared by, at Brooklyn, ii. 171;
sickness of, when the British landed on Long Island, ii. 264;
urgency of, for the destruction of New York, ii. 287;
tour of inspection of, to the forts on the Hudson Highlands, ii. 441;
skilful movement of, at the battle of the Brandywine, ii. 507;
retreat of the American army at Germantown covered by, ii. 556;
important service rendered by, to the army at Valley Forge, as quartermaster, ii. 599;
chosen to supersede Gates in command of the southern forces, ii. 698;
arrival of, at Charlotte, ii. 699;
confidence inspired among the southern republicans by the presence of, ii. 702;
retreat of, from the Catawba to Virginia, followed by Cornwallis—return of, to North Carolina, ii. 716;
repulse of, by Cornwallis, at Guilford courthouse—surprise and defeat of, by Lord Rawdon, at Hobkirk's hill, ii. 719;
siege of Ninety-Six by, iii. 2;
letters of Washington to, urging the necessity for preparations for a campaign in 1782, iii. 6;

Charleston taken possession of by, iii. 12.

Greene, Mrs. General, visit of Washington to, on his southern tour, iii. 181.

Green Mountain Boys, recommended by Congress for the invasion of Canada, i. 653;

Ethan Allen rejected by, i. 658;
insubordination of, i. 669, 670.

Green, Reverend Ashbel, his personal reminiscences of Washington, iii. 587.

Greenway Court, hospitality of Lord Fairfax at, i. 48;
letter of Washington from, at the age of fifteen, i. 49;
library at, accessible to young Washington, i. 57.

Grenville, George, the stamp-act submitted to the house of commons by, i. 322;
reply of Pitt to an interrogatory of—christened “the gentle shepherd,” i. 324.

Grey, General, party of horse under Colonel Baylor surprised by, ii. 643.

Gridley, Captain Samuel, inefficiency of (note), i. 562.

Gridley, Colonel, good discipline of his corps of artillery, i. 553;
lines of the intrenchments on Breed's hill drawn by, at night, i. 557;
wounded at Breed's hill, i. 569;
lines of fortification upon Dorchester Heights drawn by, ii. 64.

Grier, Mrs., fortitude displayed by, while accompanying Arnold's Quebec expedition, i. 693.

Griffiths, David, warning of Lee's treachery at Monmouth given by, on the eve of the battle, ii. 623.

Grimes, Miss, afterward Mrs. Lee, supposed youthful passion of Washington for, i. 47.

Guilford courthouse, battle of, ii. 717.

Guizot, encomium pronounced by, upon the character of Washington, iii. 580.

Gulligher, Mr., one sitting given to, by Washington, at Portsmouth, in 1789, iii. 133.

Gunpowder, Gage's seizure of, at Cambridge, i. 426.

H.

Habits of Washington, iii. 584.

Hale, Captain Nathan, sent by Washington as a spy to Long Island, ii. 294;
manner of the death of, ii. 297.

Hale, Colonel, apology for the surrender of, to an inferior force (note), ii. 466.

Halifax, General Howe at, ii. 84.

Halket, Major, letter of Washington to, in relation to the route to Fort Duquesne, i. 273.

Halket, Sir Peter, death of, at the battle of the Monongahela, i. 168.

Hamilton, Alexander, concerned in the seizure of cannon at Fort George, in New York, ii. 129;
commencement of Washington's acquaintance with (note)—high commendation of, by General Greene, ii. 301;
at the battle of White Plains, ii. 318;
false information put into the hands of a spy, by a trick of (note), ii. 415;
admitted to the military family of Washington at Middlebrook—confidence of Washington in—Captain Graydon's recollections of, ii. 456;
saved by the speed of his horse—letter of, to Congress, giving warning of the rapid approach of Howe, ii. 513;
sent to Philadelphia by Washington to procure supplies for the troops—note of instructions of Washington to, ii. 517;
sent by Washington to Gates for reinforcements—obstructed by Putnam, ii. 550;
authority assumed by, by the advice of Governor Clinton, ii. 551;
misunderstanding between Washington and (note), ii. 712;

The Continentalist written by, iii. 56;
opinions of Washington concurrent with, on the new constitution, iii. 71;
success of the new constitution argued by, iii. 76;
informal nomination of Washington for the presidency by, iii. 79;
opinions of, with regard to presidential etiquette, iii. 107;
testimony of Robert Morris to the financial ability of—made secretary of the treasury by Washington, iii. 121;
financial scheme of, presented to Congress in 1790, iii. 140;
discussions caused by the financial report of, iii. 143, 144;
admiration of, for the British constitution, iii. 149;
hostility of Jefferson to, iii. 150, 173, 174, 206, 208;
a national bank advocated by, iii. 171;
at the head of the Federalists, iii. 188;
re-election of Washington desired by, iii. 218;
letter of Washington to, in relation to his feud with Jefferson, iii. 211;
charges brought against, in Congress, in 1792, iii. 282;
falsity of the charges brought against, iii. 232;
remarks of, in relation to the Revolution in France, iii. 250;
intention of, to resign his position in the cabinet, iii. 274;
attacked with yellow fever in 1793, iii. 280;
wish of Washington to send him as envoy extraordinary to England—nomination of, opposed by Monroe, iii. 298;
letter of, to Washington, nominating Jay as minister to England, iii. 299;
with the army sent to put down the Whiskey Insurrection, in 1794, iii. 319;
plan prepared by, for the redemption of the public debt—office resigned by, in 1795, iii. 329;
succeeded by Oliver Wolcott, iii. 330;
stones thrown at, while addressing a meeting in New York, iii. 352;

Jay's treaty defended by, through the press, iii. 369;
letter of Washington to, giving reasons for not furnishing to Congress papers relating to Jay's treaty, iii. 394;
suggestions of, used by Washington in the preparation of his Farewell Address, iii. 426;
letter of, to Washington, in 1798, in relation to the troubles with France, iii. 506;
willing to accept the office of inspector-general in 1798 (note), iii. 509;
letter of, to Washington, urging his acceptance of the commission of commander-in-chief, iii. 514;
placed by Washington at the head of his list of generals, in 1798—Washington's high appreciation of, iii. 517;
conference of, with M'Henry and Pinckney, in relation to the provisional army in 1798, iii. 525;
executive department of the provisional army left by Washington in the hands of, iii. 526;
adverse to Adams's hasty sending of envoys to France, iii. 530;
last letter written by Washington addressed to, iii. 549.

Hamilton, Robert, minute-guns fired from the schooner of, at Washington's funeral, iii. 559.

Hammond, Mr., minister plenipotentiary from England to the United States in 1792, iii. 223;
attention paid to the complaints of, iii. 256;
unsettled relations with England on the arrival of, iii. 271;
intercepted papers of M. Fauchet's placed by, in the hands of Mr. Wolcott, iii. 362.

Hampton, unsuccessful attempt of Lord Dunmore to destroy, ii. 22.

Hancock, John, desire of, to be appointed commander-in-chief, i. 533, 534;
outlawed by General Gage, i. 552;
appointed major-general of Massachusetts militia—desirous of military distinction (note), ii. 60;
the Declaration of Independence first printed with his name alone—letter of, to Washington, enclosing the Declaration of Independence, ii. 213;
official pride of, iii. 129;
visit paid by, to Washington, in Boston, iii. 130.

Handbills, incendiary, dispersed in the British camp at Boston, i. 637.

Hand, Colonel, Hessian chasseurs attacked by, near Eastchester, ii. 315;
stationed near the present site of Fort Hamilton, with riflemen, ii. 261;
stacks of wheat and hay burned by—biographical notice of, ii. 262;
march of the British checked by, at Flatbush, ii. 264;
appointed adjutant-general in the force sent against the whiskey insurgents, in 1794, iii. 315.

Hands, great size of Washington's, iii. 595.

Harlem heights, fortified camp of Washington upon, ii. 297;
letters of Washington from, to Congress, on the state of the army, ii. 301.

Harlem plains, battle on, ii. 299.

Harmar, General, expedition of, against Indians on the Scioto, in 1790, iii. 156;
ill success of the expedition of, in the Ohio country, in 1790, iii. 166.

Harrington, Jonathan, fifer of the minute-men at Lexington (note), i. 506.

Harrison, Benjamin, Washington's journey to the second continental Congress in company with, i. 528;
his condemnation of the petition of Congress to the king, i. 606;
letter of Washington to, in relation to inland navigation, iii. 44.

Harrison, Robert H., appointed associate judge of the supreme court in 1789, iii. 122.

Hartford, journey of Washington to, to confer with French officers, ii. 686;
reception of Washington in, in 1789, iii. 126.

Hartley, David, scheme of, for conciliating the colonies, i. 499.

Harvard College, degree of Doctor of Laws conferred upon Washington by, ii. 80;
names attached to the instrument conferring the degree (note), ii. 81.

Haviland, Colonel, with Amherst at the siege of Montreal, in 1760, i. 301.

Hawley, Major Joseph, words of, quoted by Patrick Henry (note), i. 480.

Hazelwood, Captain, fire-ships constructed by, on the Hudson, ii. 237.

Hazlitt's description of Washington's personal appearance, iii. 590.

Head of Elk, Sir William Howe at, ii. 497;
risk of capture run by Washington at, ii. 498.

Heath, General, militia under the command of, at the battle of Lexington, i. 509;
appointed brigadier general in the continental army, i. 548;
brief biographical notice of, i. 549;
despatched with troops for the defence of New York, ii. 82;
dislike of General Lee for, ii. 344, 345;
graphic account written by, of an interview with General Lee (note), ii. 345;
commendation of, by Washington—picture given by, of the destitution of the American army (note), ii. 346;
disregard paid to his summons by the garrison of Fort Independence, ii. 399;
letter of Washington to, after his retirement to private life, iii. 482.

Hedges, Solomon, primitive style of living of, i. 54.

Heights of Abraham, scaled by Arnold at the siege of Quebec, i. 701.

Hendrik, sachem of the Mohawks, speech of, i. 128.

Henfield, arrest of, for enlisting on the privateer Citizen Genet, iii. 259;
trial and acquittal of, iii. 267.

Henry, Judge John Joseph, extract from his narrative relating to Arnold's Quebec expedition, i. 693.

Henry, Patrick, resolutions offered by, in the Virginia assembly, in relation to the stamp-act, i. 327;

Washington present at the debate on the resolutions offered by, i. 329;
the friends of the resolutions of, re-elected, i. 331;

Washington's journey to the first and second continental Congresses in company with, i. 417, 528;
powerful speech of, at the opening of the first continental Congress, i. 423;
his opinion of Washington and Rutledge, i. 450;
resolutions offered by, at the second Virginia convention, i. 477;
payment for the powder seized by Lord Dunmore, obtained by, i. 519;
predictions of, on the subject of independence, ii. 200;
letter of Washington to, revealing the weakness of his army, ii. 578;
anonymous letter received by, from the Conway Cabal, ii. 587;
adverse to the constitution, iii. 77;
letter of Washington to, in 1795, when offering him the office of secretary of state, iii. 371;
mission to France declined by, in 1799, iii. 529.

Herbert, Mr., remarks of, on hunting in America (note), i. 50.

Herrick, Captain, expedition of, against Skenesborough, i. 645.

Hertburn, William de, of Wessington manor, i. 18.

Hesse Cassel, landgrave of, mercenaries furnished by, ii. 6.

Hesse, prince of, mercenaries furnished by, ii. 6.

Hessians, reliance placed on, by the British ministry, ii. 8;
land offered to such as would leave the British service—resolution of Congress printed and circulated among, as tobacco papers (note), ii. 260;
kind treatment by Washington of those made prisoners at Trenton, ii. 377;
brutal conduct of, in New Jersey, ii. 398.

Hewling, J. M., song written by, ii. 13.

Hickey, Thomas, arrested on a charge of conspiracy against the life of Washington, ii. 175;
condemnation and execution of, ii. 176.

Highlanders, Scotch, loyalty of, ii. 104, 114.

Highland passes, measures of General George Clinton for the defence of, ii. 219.

Highlands of the Hudson, measures taken to repress insurrection in, ii. 310;
imminent peril of the country below, ii. 311;
measures taken by Washington for the defence of, ii. 323;
impression made upon Washington by the grandeur of their scenery, ii. 324.

Hildreth, remarks of, respecting Washington's message to the third Congress, iii. 285.

Hinman, Colonel, placed in command of the lake forts by Governor Trumbull—difficulties of, with Arnold, i. 648;
want of discipline among the troops of, i. 656.

Hobby, first schoolmaster of Washington, i. 24, 27.

Hobkirk's hill, defeat of Greene by Lord Rawdon at, ii. 719.

Holland, noble conduct of the states-general of, ii. 6;
sentiments of, toward England and the colonies, ii. 121;
gunpowder shipped from, to America, in gin-bottles, ii. 122.

"Home,” a term used by Washington when speaking of England, as late as 1769, i. 348.

Homestead of the Washington family in Virginia, i. 23.

Hopkins, Commodore Esek, squadron under the command of—his disobedience of orders, ii. 108;
dismissed from the service, ii. 109.

Horsemanship of Washington, iii. 596.

Horses, fine stud kept by Washington, iii. 584.

Hotham, Commodore, departure of, for America, with Hessians, ii. 90.

Houdon, the sculptor, at Mount Vernon—the statue of Washington at Richmond executed by, iii. 50.

Hounds, kennel of, kept by Washington, iii. 584;
sent by Lafayette to Washington in 1785, iii. 585.

Howe, Admiral Lord, sent with a fleet to co-operate with General Howe—unwillingness of, to serve against the Americans, ii. 89;
powers of, as a peace-commissioner, ii. 222;
efforts of, to communicate with Washington—letter of Dennis de Berdt to Joseph Reed, brought from England by, ii. 223;
refusal of Washington to receive the letter sent by, ii. 225, 227;

"circular" and “declaration" of, directed by Congress to be published, ii. 228;
terms of reconciliation offered by, such as could not be accepted, ii. 229;
no part of his design to attack New York with the shipping (note), ii. 267;
committee appointed by Congress to confer with, ii. 290;
account of the conference with, published in England (note), ii. 294;
letter of Franklin to, in relation to the question of reconciliation (note), ii. 292;
in the Delaware with his fleet, ii. 551.

Howe, Colonel Robert, in command of patriot troops in Norfolk, ii. 24, 25.

Howe, General Sir William, with Wolfe at the siege of Quebec, i. 293;
address of, to his soldiers, at Breed's hill, i. 563;
disposition of, friendly toward the Americans—friendship between Franklin and, i. 620;
successor to General Gage. i. 730;
confidence of, in the strength of his position in Boston, ii. 48;
evacuation of Boston by, ii. 68, 85;
departure of, from Boston, hastened by the fear of a general assault, ii. 71;
intentions and movements concealed by, ii. 81, 143, 256, 427, 473, 475, 490;

British prisoners and store-ships taken in Boston harbor through the negligence of, ii. 83;
retirement of, to Halifax, ii. 84:

defence of, in Parliament, by the duke of Manchester, ii. 87;
arrival of, in the harbor of New York, ii. 178;
assistance expected by, from the loyalists, ii. 179;

Colonel Patterson sent to Washington by, with a letter from Lord Howe, ii. 226;
large and well-appointed army under the command of, at Staten Island, ii. 240;
proclamation issued by, to the people of Long Island, ii. 266;
misgivings of, as to ultimate success, ii. 300;
humanity of—efforts of, to recruit his army with tories, ii. 309;
advances of, on the East river, ii. 311;
movements of, at White Plains, ii. 316;
houses in New Jersey burned by, ii. 452;
landing of, at the head of Chesapeake bay, ii. 497;
march of, hindered by the want of horses and wagons—proclamation issued by, ii. 499;
dilatoriness of—humanity of (note), ii. 512;
marching and counter-marching of, along the Schuylkill, ii. 515;
march of, upon Philadelphia, ii. 516;
supplies from the country cut off from, ii. 597;
resignation of, accepted by the British ministry—Sir Henry Clinton the successor of—fête at Philadelphia, in honor of, on his departure, ii. 614.

Howe, Lord Edward, in the expedition against Ticonderoga, under General Abercrombie. i. 262;
death of—money appropriated in Massachusetts for a monument to, in Westminster Abbey, i. 264.

Howe, Richard and William, commissioners for restoring peace to the colonies, ii. 90.

Howell, David, appointed commissioner for ascertaining the true river St. Croix. iii. 423.

Howell, Governor, third in command in the force sent to put down the Whiskey Insurrection in 1794, iii. 315.

Hubbardton, battle at, ii. 466;

Major Ackland wounded at, ii. 467.

Huddy, Captain, hanged by loyalists under Captain Lippincott, iii. 13.

Hudson Highlands, account of the capture of, by Sir Henry Clinton, ii. 542-545.

Hudson's river, commencement of fortifications on, ii. 126, 127;
measures of General Howe for taking possession of, ii. 218;
vessels sent up, by General Howe, anchored in Tappaan sea, ii. 221;
movements of the Rose and Phœnix on, ii. 235;
obstructions placed in, ii. 237, 440;
attempt of Captains Fosdyke and Thomas to destroy the Rose and Phœnix, ii. 238;
property destroyed on, by British vessels-of-war, ii. 547.

Huguenot settlers, descendants of, on the side of the patriots in the Revolutionary struggle, i. 464.

Humphreys, Colonel, subject of presidential etiquette intrusted to, iii. 109;
letter of Washington to, after his southern tour, in 1791, iii. 182;
letter of Washington to, speaking of his love of retirement, iii. 235;
appointed a commissioner to treat with the dey of Algiers—formation of a navy recommended by, iii. 293;
appointed minister to Spain in 1796, iii. 423.

Hunting-costume of Washington before the Revolution, iii. 585.

Hunting-days at Mount Vernon before the Revolution, iii. 585.

Hunting-shirts recommended by Washington for the continental army, i. 592.

Huntington, countess of, papers transmitted to Washington by, in relation to the Christianization of the Indians, iii. 49.

Husbands, Herman, arrested on suspicion of being concerned in the Whiskey Insurrection (note), iii. 320.

Hutchinson, Governor, an enemy to free institutions, though a native—duplicity of, discovered by Doctor Franklin—letters of, read in secret session of the Massachusetts assembly, by Samuel Adams, i. 385;
removal of, petitioned for—excitement in England on the publication of the letters of (note), i. 396;
superseded by General Gage, i. 396;
hung in effigy at Boston, i. 397.

I.

Illness of Washington in 1789, iii. 116;
in 1790, iii. 162.

Improvements, internal, attention of Washington given to, iii. 46.

Inauguration, Washington's first, iii. 92;
solemnity of the scene at, iii. 94;
address of Washington at, iii. 95;
ball given at, in honor of Washington's, iii. 109.

Inauguration. Washington's second—address of Washington at. iii. 233;
description of, by an eye-witness (note), iii. 234.

Independence, not aimed at by the first continental Congress—sentiments of delegates in regard to (note), i. 452;
letter of Joseph Reed to Dartmouth, in relation to, i. 453;
the idea of, not prevalent out of New England, i. 536;
not aimed at by the second continental Congress, i. 607;
advocated by Thomas Paine, in his “Common Sense,” ii. 11;
growing desire for, in the public mind, ii. 52, 199, 202;
subject of, brought before Congress by Richard Henry Lee—testimony of Doctor Dwight, as to the popular feeling on the subject of (note)—predictions of Patrick Henry with regard to, ii. 200;

Otis, Samuel Adams, Franklin, and John Adams, early in favor of, ii. 201;
steps taken in various colonies in relation to, ii. 203;
resolution in relation to, offered by John Adams in Congress, ii. 204;
committee appointed by Congress to prepare a declaration of—resolution of, adopted on the second of July, 1776, ii. 206;
continued debates in Congress on the subject of, ii. 207;
friends and opponents of, in Congress—unanimous vote of the thirteen colonies in favor of the declaration of, ii. 208;
declaration of, as voted for, ii. 209-213;
reluctant consent of George III. to, iii. 15.

Indian prophecy respecting the destinies of Washington, iii. 43.

Indians, insight into the character of, acquired by Washington while surveying, i. 58;
their views of French and English claims, i. 66;
necessity of conciliating, urged by Washington, i. 193;
power of, for mischief, i. 207;
necessity of employing, to oppose Indians, i. 210;
anecdote illustrating the simplicity of (note), i. 279;
commissioners appointed by the second continental Congress to treat with, i. 608;
hostility of, in 1789, iii. 115;
desire of Washington to civilize, iii. 177;
hostile position of, in the Northwest, in 1793, iii. 273;
the use of, recommended by Washington to General Schuyler, ii. 143.

Ingersoll, Jared, his resignation of his office as stamp-distributor—advice of Franklin to (note), i. 332.

Innes, Colonel, Washington under the orders of, when at Great Meadows, i. 114;
personal attachment of Dinwiddie to, i. 187;
anxiety of Dinwiddie that he should supplant Washington in the command of the Virginia troops, i. 211, 216.

Iredell, James, description by, of a ball in celebration of Washington's birthday, iii. 469.

Ireland, troops voted by the Parliament of, for the American service, ii. 6;
address of the second continental Congress to the people of, i. 610.

Iroquois, early friendship of, with the English, i. 66, 69.

Irving, Washington, the inauguration of Washington witnessed by, iii. 93;
remarks of, on Jefferson's support of Freneau, iii. 254;
anecdote of Nelly Custis told by, iii. 488.

Isle aux Noix, expedition of Schuyler and Montgomery against, i. 663;
address issued from, by General Schuyler, to the inhabitants of Canada, i. 665;
retreat of the American army to, from Canada, ii. 166.

Isle la Motte, retreat of Sullivan to, ii. 167.

J.

Jack, Captain, the Wild Hunter of the Juniata, anecdote of (note), i. 153.

Jackson, Andrew, his view of the character of Washington in 1796, iii. 461.

Jackson. Major, aid-de-camp of Washington in 1789, iii. 125.

Jackson, Robert, letter of, in relation to young Washington's going to sea, i. 44.

Jacobs, Captain, a chief of the Delaware Indians, death of, at Kittanning, i. 226;
death of the giant son of, at Kittanning, i. 227.

Jamaica, address of the second continental Congress to the assembly of, i. 610.

James River Company, Washington president of—one hundred shares in, offered to Washington by the Virginia legislature, iii. 47;
works of, examined by Washington in 1791, iii. 180.

Jasper, Sergeant, extraordinary courage displayed by, ii. 194;
sword presented to, by Governor Rutledge, ii. 195;
death of, at Savannah, supporting the colors of his regiment (note), ii. 196.

Jay, John, treaty of peace signed by, in 1782, iii. 15;
correspondence of, with Washington, on the revision of the Articles of Confederation, iii. 56;
a contributor to The Federalist, iii. 77;
appointed chief-justice by Washington, iii. 122;
envoy extraordinary to England in 1794—mission of, denounced by the Democratic Society of Philadelphia, iii. 300;
letter of Washington to, in relation to the Whiskey Insurrection, iii. 320;
anxiety of Washington respecting the mission of, iii. 334;
letters addressed by, to Lord Grenville, iii. 335;
conversations of, with Lord Grenville—letter of, to Washington, stating the progress of negotiations in London, iii. 337;
conversation of, with George III., iii. 338;
treaty signed by, at London, iii. 339;
elected governor of the state of New York, iii. 345;
burned in effigy in Philadelphia, iii. 350;
suggestions of, used by Washington in preparing his Farewell Address, iii. 426;
letter of, to Mr. Monroe in Paris, on refusing a copy of his treaty, iii. 439.

Jay's treaty, provisions of, iii. 340-342;
language of the opposition press in relation to, iii. 343;
hostility of the Democratic Societies to, iii. 345;
ratification of, recommended by the senate, iii. 346;
abstract of, published in the Aurora, iii. 347;
violent opposition to, throughout the country, iii. 348;
meetings of the enemies of, held in Boston and New York, iii. 351;
resolutions adverse to, adopted at a meeting held in New York, iii. 352;
resolutions in favor of, adopted by the New-York Chamber of Commerce—copies of, burned in the streets of Philadelphia, iii. 353;
opposition to, in South Carolina, iii. 354;
letter of Washington in relation to, to the selectmen of Boston, iii. 356;
letters of Washington to Randolph, in relation to, iii. 357, 358;
objections to, answered in a memorial written by Randolph, iii. 359;
ratification of, signed by Washington, iii. 360;
virulence of party spirit in relation to, iii. 368;
the Boston Chamber of Commerce in favor of the ratification of—memorial in favor of, signed by the merchants of Philadelphia, iii. 370;
letter of Washington to General Knox in relation to, iii. 371;
assailed by Governor Shelby, of Kentucky—action of the various state legislatures in relation to, iii. 382;
delay in the ratification of, on the part of the British government, iii. 383;
ratification of, by George III., in 1796, iii. 390;
conspicuous part taken by Albert Gallatin in the debates on, iii. 392;, 401;
message of Washington to Congress, on refusing to furnish papers relating to (note), iii. 396;
speech of Tracy, of Connecticut, on, iii. 404;
speech of Fisher Ames on, iii. 405;
extracts from Ames's speech on, iii. 405-416;
powerful impression produced by the speech of, iii. 416;
commissioners appointed to carry out the provisions of, iii. 423;
unfriendly feeling with France increased by, iii. 435;
hostile demonstrations of the French Directory on the ratification of, iii. 444.

Jefferson, Thomas, resolutions of, adopted by the Virginia house of burgesses in 1769 (note), i. 354;
letter of Washington to, in relation to Arnold's incursion, ii. 713;
narrow escape of, from Tarleton, at Monticello, ii. 720;
appointed secretary of state by Washington, iii. 122;
admiration of, for the leaders of the French Revolution, iii. 147;
suspicions and jealousies of, iii. 148148, 150;
question of the assumption of the state debts pressed upon, by Hamilton, iii. 149;
change of the feelings of, toward Hamilton, iii. 150;
voyage of, to Newport, in 1790, in company with Washington, iii. 162;
dislike of, for Hamilton, iii. 173;
new coins recommended by, in 1784, iii. 175;
executive power distrusted by, iii. 187;
personal vituperation indulged in by—at the head of the Republicans, iii. 188;
disgust of, with Adams's “Discourses of Davila,” iii. 189;
imbued with the spirit of the French Revolution—language of, in after-years, respecting Adams and Hamilton, iii. 190;
antagonism of, toward Adams, in 1791, iii. 191;
desire of, that Washington should remain in office, iii. 199;
letters of, to Washington, iii. 202, 213;
vanity of—letter of, to Lafayette, iii. 205;
letters of Washington to, iii. 210, 217, 239, 289, 421;
re-election of Washington desired by, iii. 218;

Jacobins in Paris called “patriots" by, iii. 226;

Freneau's annoyance of Washington enjoyed by, iii. 253;
insincerity of (note), iii. 254;
letter of Genet to, in relation to the arrest of Americans on the Citizen Genet, iii. 260;
intention of, to resign his position in the cabinet—unwillingness of Washington to accept the resignation of, iii. 274;
want of candor of, displayed toward Washington, iii. 275;
letter written by, to Gouverneur Morris, in relation to Genet's recall, iii. 276;
rebuke administered by, to Genet, iii. 287;
encomium pronounced by, upon the character of Washington—resignation of, as secretary of state, iii. 288;
letter of, from Monticello, to Edmund Randolph, iii. 289;
debates in Congress on the report of, on commercial affairs, iii. 290;
letter of, to Madison, in relation to self-created societies, iii. 326;
sympathy of, with the Whiskey Insurrectionists, iii. 327;
apprehensions entertained by, concerning Jay's treaty—his admiration of Gallatin, iii. 417;
letter of, to Madison, in relation to Jay's treaty, iii. 418;
caricature of, printed in 1798 (note), iii. 419;
insinuations thrown out by, against Washington—disclaimer by, of any agency in furnishing to the Aurora certain confidential matter, iii. 420;
confidence of Washington in the sincerity of, iii. 422;

Washington's confidence in, finally shaken (note), iii. 423;
suggestions of, used by Washington in preparing his Farewell Address, iii. 426;
a candidate for the presidency in 1796, iii. 451;
elected vice-president in 1797, iii. 468;
non-election of, to the presidency, offensive to the French Directory, iii. 495;
suspected of being the real author of the letter to Washington from “John Langhorne,” iii. 498;
confidence lost by Washington in the professions of friendship of, iii. 499.

Jervis, afterward Earl St. Vincent, with Wolfe at Quebec, i. 293.

Johnson, Colonel Guy, body of savages collected by, on the frontier, ii. 105;
in Canada, with warriors of the Six Nations, ii. 106.

Johnson, Colonel William, expedition under, against Crown Point, proposed by General Braddock, i. 141;
agency of, with the Six Nations—biographical notice of (note), i. 142;
his defeat of Dieskau, i. 182;
made a baronet by the British government—his defeat of Dieskau principally by the aid of New-England men—applause bestowed on, due to others, i. 184;

Fort Niagara taken by, in 1759, i. 291;
sway maintained by, over the Six Nations—death of, by apoplexy, in 1774, i. 581.

Johnson, Sir John, loyalty of, and of his brothers-in-law, i. 581;
his Scotch Highlanders disarmed by Schuyler, ii. 105;
escape of, to Canada, ii. 107.

Johnson, Doctor Samuel, author of “Taxation no Tyranny,” ii. 112.

Johnson Hall, fortified by Sir John Johnson, ii. 104.

Johnson, Lady, detained as a hostage in Albany (note), ii. 107.

Johnson, Thomas, office of secretary of state offered to, by Washington, in 1795, iii. 371.

Joncaire, Captain, French Indian agent, i. 79;

Washington entertained by, at Venango, i. 80;
efforts of, to detach Tanacharisson from Washington's party on the Ohio, i. 81.

Jonquière, Marquis de la, governor of Canada, i. 72.

Judiciary, federal, Ellsworth's plan of, iii. 120.

Jumonville, attack of Washington upon, i. 105;
misrepresentations in relation to the death of—Bancroft on Washington's attack upon, i. 106;
defence of Washington in relation to his attack on, i. 106-108;
papers found on the person of, i. 107;

Washington's attack on, vindicated by Mr. Sparks, i. 108.

"Jumonville,” a poem in French, by Thomas, i. 108.

Junius, notice of the Letters of (note), i. 364;
extract from the Letters of, i. 370.

K.

Kalm, Peter, independence of the colonies foretold by, in 1748, i. 67.

Kennedy, Captain, house, No. 1 Broadway, New York, built by (note), ii. 43.

Kennel, Washington's, broken up in 1785, iii. 51.

Kentucky, dissatisfaction among the people in, in 1794, iii. 303;
intemperate resolutions passed at a convention of the citizens of, iii. 304;
letter of Washington in relation to the popular movements in, iii. 305.

Kiashuta, Washington at the hunting-camp of, in the Ohio country, in 1770, i. 360.

King, Rufus, stones thrown at, while addressing a meeting in New York, on the subject of Jay's treaty, iii. 352;
appointed minister to England, in place of Pinckney, iii. 423.

King's Bridge, fortifications erected at, ii. 171;
secret attack upon the British at, planned by Washington, ii. 442.

King's mountain, defeat of a body of tories, under Ferguson, at—important influence of the victory at, ii. 703.

Kingston, extreme fatigue of the troops of Washington on the march from, to Pluckemin, ii. 391.

Kip's bay, landing of the British at—bad conduct of the militia and Connecticut troops at, ii. 295.

Kirkland, Moses, important papers found in possession of, ii. 27.

Kittanning, destruction of, in 1756, by Colonel Armstrong, i. 226.

Knapp, Sergeant Uzal, the last survivor of Washington's life-guard (note), ii. 178.

Knowlton, Captain, breastwork constructed by, at Breed's hill, i. 562;

British guard surprised by, at Charlestown, ii. 49;
death of, on Harlem plains, ii. 299.

Knox, Captain Henry (afterward General), service performed by, at Breed's hill, i. 567;
appointed to command the artillery at Cambridge, i. 749;
artillery and ordnance-stores transported by, from Lake Champlain to Cambridge, i. 750;
recommended by Washington to the general command of the artillery, ii. 363;
powerful voice of, ii. 371;
sent to Massachusetts to hasten the raising of a battalion of artillery, ii. 415;
idea of the Society of the Cincinnati conceived by, iii. 23;
letters of Washington to, iii. 39, 84;
retained by Washington as secretary of war in 1789, iii. 121;
stay of, in Philadelphia, during the presence of the yellow fever in 1793, iii. 280;
succeeded by Timothy Pickering as secretary of war—cause of the resignation of, iii. 330;
letter of Washington to, on the occasion of the resignation of, iii. 331;
letter of Washington to, in relation to Jay's treaty, iii. 371;
interest taken by, in the welfare of young Lafayette, iii. 374;
letter of Washington to, on the eve of retirement from office, iii. 470;
letter of Washington to, informing him of his position in the provisional army, iii. 518;
mortification of, at the preference given to Hamilton and Pinckney—warm reply written by, to Washington, iii. 519;
esteem of Washington for—second letter of Washington to, in relation to his appointment as major-general, iii. 521;

President Adams petitioned by the friends of, to reverse Washington's order of the major-generals, iii. 522;
letter of Washington to, urging his acceptance of the appointment proffered, iii. 524;
determination of, not to serve under Hamilton and Pinckney, iii. 525.

Knyphausen, General, garrison at New York left under the command of, ii. 664;

Springfield, in New Jersey, set on fire by, ii. 678.

Kosciuszko, Thaddeus, first interview of, with Washington, ii. 448;
subsequent history of, ii. 449;
at the siege of Ninety-Six, iii. 2.

L.

La Colombe, M. de, letter of Washington to, announcing the liberation of Lafayette, iii. 499.

Lacy, General, orders of Washington to, for the arrest of Quakers near Valley Forge, i. 461.

Lafayette, George Washington, asylum sought by, in the United States, iii. 229;
arrival of, in the United States, in 1795, iii. 372;
letter of Washington to Senator Cabot, of Boston, in relation to the reception of, iii. 373;
attempted incognito of, under the name of Motier—letter of Washington to, iii. 375;
official notice taken of, by Congress—letter of a committee of Congress addressed to, iii. 376;
the guest of Washington at Philadelphia and Mount Vernon—letter of Washington respecting, to his father, iii. 377;
with Washington at Mount Vernon in 1797, iii. 479.

Lafayette, Madame, invited by Washington to visit Mount Vernon, iii. 38;
letter of Washington to, in 1792, iii. 226;
letter of, to Washington, iii. 227;
second letter of, to Washington—shares the prison of Lafayette at Olmutz, iii. 229.

Lafayette, Marquis de, Washington's first acquaintance with, ii. 491;
vessel fitted out at the expense of, ii. 492, 493;
visit of, to London, ii. 492;
voyage of, to America, in company with De Kalb and other officers—commissioned major-general of the continental army, ii. 493;
impatience of, for actual command (note), ii. 496;
appointed to the command of an expedition against Canada, ii. 586;
hostility of Gates toward Washington discovered by, ii. 591;
escape of, from the British at Barren hill, ii. 615;
the honor of leading the advance at Monmouth solicited by, ii. 619;
departure of, for France, to procure aid for the Americans, ii. 648;
letters of Washington to, ii. 662; iii. 38, 75, 83, 164, 526;
fruits of the secret mission of, to the court of Versailles, ii. 679;
escape of Cornwallis prevented by, ii. 730;
return of, to France, in 1781, iii. 7;
visit of, to Mount Vernon, in 1784, iii. 42;
jack sent to Washington by, iii. 51;
conspicuous part taken by, in the French Revolution, iii. 115, 135;
commander-in-chief of the National Guard in Paris, in 1789—language of, respecting the duke of Orleans, iii. 137;
conservative influence of, iii. 138;
key of the Bastile sent to Washington by—difficult position of, in France, in 1790, iii. 163;
hopeful letter written by, to Washington, iii. 164;
disappointment of, at the course of the French Revolution, iii. 184;
letters of, in relation to his position in France, addressed to Washington, iii. 185;
efforts of, to preserve order in France, iii. 224;
acquitted by the National Assembly, of charges made against him by the Jacobins—attempt of, to escape to the United States, by way of Holland—in prison at Olmutz, iii. 225;
desire of Washington to befriend the family of, iii. 226;

Washington powerless to aid, iii. 228;
confinement of, in an Austrian dungeon, iii. 372;
incident showing Washington's feelings toward (note), iii. 373;
efforts of Washington to obtain the liberation of, iii. 424;
liberation of, from the prison at Olmutz—reply of, to De Chasteler with regard to proposed conditions of release (note), iii. 499;
letter received by Washington from, at the close of 1798, iii. 526;
hounds sent by, to Washington, in 1785, iii. 585.

La Force, a meddlesome French commissary, i. 82;
energy and activity of, i. 132;
escape of, from prison at Williamsburg (note), i. 183.

Lake Champlain, efforts of Sir Guy Carleton to create a navy on, ii. 333;
naval engagement on, between Arnold and Captain Pringle, ii. 334.

"Lake of the Dismal Swamp,” lines from, i. 311.

Lamb, Captain, severely wounded in the assault upon Quebec, under Montgomery and Arnold, i. 721;
cannon removed by, from Fort George, in New York, ii. 129.

Lancaster, meeting of recruits at, iii. 26.

Land-grants to soldiers engaged in the French and Indian War, efforts of Washington to secure, i. 356.

Langdon, President, “declaration” of Congress read by, to the troops at Cambridge, i. 617.

“Langhorne, John,” letter of condolence of, addressed to Washington in 1798, iii. 497.

La Salle, French claims to the Ohio based on the discoveries by, i. 80.

Laurens, Colonel John, sent to Europe, to seek more aid in men and money, ii. 700;
influence with the French government of, Washington's letter to, ii. 710;
death of—biographical notice of, iii. 11.

Laurens, Henry, treaty of peace signed by, in 1782, iii. 15.

Lear, Tobias, secretary of Washington at Mount Vernon, iii. 49;

Master and Miss Custis educated by, iii. 50;
admiration of, for the private character of Washington, iii. 51;

Washington's power to control his feelings witnessed by, iii. 194;
use of a farm left to, by Washington, iii. 539;
resident at Mount Vernon in 1799, iii. 551;
account written by, of the last illness of Washington, iii. 552-557.

Lechmere's Point, intrenchment commenced on, by Putnam, i. 764.

Ledyard, Colonel, murder of, by Major Bromfield, ii. 727.

Lee, Arthur, address of Wilkes, lord-mayor of London, written by, i. 604.

Lee, Charles, of Virginia, successor of Bradford, as attorney-general, in 1795, iii. 372.

Lee, General Charles, talents and acquirements of, i. 542;
account of the early life of, i. 542-545;
estate purchased by, in Virginia—appointed second major-general by the second continental Congress, i. 545;
remarks of Mrs. Mercy Warren on the personal appearance of (note), i. 586;
disgust of Washington at the impiety of, i. 617;
a personal interview proposed to, by Burgoyne, at Boston Neck, i. 630;
sent to New York to disarm the tories, ii. 35;
ambition of, ii. 37;
letter of, to Washington, in relation to the Long-Island tories, ii. 38;
headquarters of, in New York, ii. 43;
appointed by Congress commander-in-chief of the southern department, ii. 82, 96;
named by Washington for the chief command of the army in Canada, ii. 95;

Washington's opinion of the military abilities of, ii. 97;
activity of, in improving the defences of New York, ii. 126;
differences of, with the city authorities of New York, ii. 130;
letters of, to Washington, in relation to the defences of New York, ii. 131, 133;
cannon removed by, from the Grand battery at New York, ii. 131;
contempt of, for official titles (note), ii. 183;
little regard paid by, to the provincial congress of New York, ii. 132, 133;
high-handed measures of, with regard to tories, ii. 134;
anxiety of, to attack Lord Dunmore on the Elizabeth river, ii. 183;
joyful reception of, in Charleston, ii. 188;
exertions of, to put Charleston in a state of defence, ii. 189;
his opinion of Fort Sullivan, ii. 190;
great deference paid to the opinions of, on military affairs—self-esteem and impertinence of, ii. 313;
instructions given by Washington to, at North Castle, ii. 324;
duplicity of, toward Washington, ii. 332;
reliance of Washington on—excuses of, for disobeying Washington's orders, ii. 341;
characteristic letter of, to James Bowdoin, ii. 342;
disingenuous use made by, of a letter from Washington (note), ii. 343;
letter written by Washington to, from Newark, ii. 344;
dislike of, to General Heath, ii. 344, 345;
letter of, to Colonel Reed, reflecting on Washington, ii. 347;
neglect of, to join Washington in New Jersey, ii. 350;

Congress in the dark concerning the movements of—impudence and heartlessness of, ii. 352;
attempt of, to disparage Washington to Governor Cook, of Rhode Island, ii. 353;
selfish ambition of, ii. 355;
urged by Washington to join him in order to defend Philadelphia, ii. 356;
found by Wilkinson at Baskingridge—ill-natured letter concerning Washington written by, to General Gates, ii. 357;
surprise and capture of, by a party of British dragoons at Baskingridge, ii. 358;
various opinions respecting the capture of—suspicions of the fidelity of, ii. 359;
capture of, providential, ii. 360;
rigorous confinement of, by the British, as a deserter, ii. 405;
letter of, to Congress, professing to have important matter to communicate—captivity of, not hard to be borne, ii. 406;
treacherous conduct of, ii. 407;
letter of Washington to General Howe, offering Hessian officers in exchange for, ii. 410;
perplexity of Howe as to what should be done with (note), ii. 411;
exchanged for General Prescott—hesitation of, to take the oath of allegiance, ii. 613;
adverse to an attack upon Sir Henry Clinton in New Jersey, ii. 618;
the command of the corps of, given to Lafayette, ii. 619;
command of his corps resumed by, ii. 620;
unaccountable retreat of, before the British—mysterious warning given to Washington with respect to Lee, ii. 623;
extreme irritation of Washington at the conduct of, ii. 624;
disrespectful letters of, to Washington, ii. 627, 628;
placed under arrest, ii. 628;
great ability of his defence, ii. 629;
suspended from all command for a year—“Queries, Political and Military,” published by (note)—letter of Washington to Joseph Reed respecting, ii. 630;
his expulsion from the army—duel fought by, with Colonel Laurens (note)—impudent letter of, to Congress (note)—curious will of (note)—death of, in 1782, ii. 631;
proved to have been a traitor, by a document recently discovered—his plan for the subjugation of the colonies, ii. 632;
willing to be a traitor to both parties, ii. 634;
guarantied against loss by Congress (note), ii. 635.

Lee, General Henry, letter of Washington to, in relation to democratic societies, iii. 313;
commander-in-chief of the force sent to put down the Whiskey Insurrection in 1794, iii. 315;
instructions of Washington to—proclamation issued by, after crossing the Alleghanies, iii. 319;
enmity of Jefferson toward, iii. 421;
funeral oration pronounced by, on the occasion of the death of Washington, iii. 566.

Lee, Richard Henry, letter of Washington to, seeking statistical information as to Virginia, i. 413;
resolutions of sympathy with Massachusetts offered by, in the continental Congress, i. 432;
non-importation resolution offered by, in the continental Congress, i. 435;
encouraging letter of, to Washington, in camp at Cambridge, i. 597;
letter of thanks from Congress to the city of London written by, i. 605;
adverse to the constitution, iii. 77;
letter of Washington to, in relation to the “republican" party (note), iii. 276.

Lee, William, mulatto man, liberated by the will of Washington, iii. 536.

L'Embuscade, arrival of Genet in, at Charleston, iii. 243;

The Grange, an English ship, taken by, iii. 245;

Doctor Francis on the arrival of, in New York, iii. 248;
challenged by the British frigate Boston, iii. 277.

L'Enfant, plans of public buildings in the federal city drawn by, iii. 178, 184;
plans of, approved by Washington, iii. 184.

Le Petit Democrat, a privateer fitted out by Genet, iii. 264;
sent to sea by Genet, in violation of his pledge, iii. 267.

Leslie, Captain, death of, at the battle of Princeton, ii. 391.

Leslie, Colonel, unsuccessful attempt of, to seize arms at Salem, i. 502.

Letters, spurious, charged to have been written by Washington, iii. 448;
denounced by Washington, iii. 471.

Levees, Mrs. Washington's, iii. 111, 112, 170.

Levees of Washington, iii. 108, 109, 592.

Lewis, Lawrence, invited by Washington to reside at Mount Vernon, iii. 483;
marriage of, with Nelly Custis, iii. 532;
strong personal resemblance between the mother of, and Washington, iii. 534;
property left to, by Washington, iii. 538, 541;
absent from Mount Vernon at the time of Washington's death, iii. 558.

Lewis, Major Andrew, unsuccessful expedition of, to the town of the Shawnees, i. 208;
night-attack upon, by Cornstalk, i. 472;

Lord Dunmore suspected of having contrived the attack upon, i. 474;

Dunmore driven from Gwyn's island by, ii. 110;
biographical notice of (note), ii. 110.

Lewis, Mrs., testimony of, to the amiability of Washington at home, iii. 52.

Lexington, Samuel Adams and John Hancock in danger at—warning of the approach of troops sent to, by Doctor Warren—minute-men collected at, under Captain Parker, i. 504;
minute-men killed at, by troops under Major Pitcairn—the British fired first at (note), i. 505;
losses of the British and Americans at, i. 510;
effect in England of the news of the battle of, i. 511;
the battle of, the beginning of the Revolutionary War, i. 512;
resolutions of various colonies, after the battle of, to raise troops, i. 514-517;
effect of the news of the battle of, at Mount Vernon, i. 527.

Lexington, Kentucky, intemperate resolutions passed at a convention of citizens at, in 1794, iii. 304.

Liberty, English and French, contrasted (note), iii. 296.

Liberty Hill Academy, shares made over to, by Washington, iii. 48.

Liberty-tree, at Boston, account of (note), i. 416;
lines alluding to (note), ii. 75;
fourteen cords of wood furnished by, ii. 76.

Lieb, Doctor, violent attack upon the character of Washington, in the Aurora, attributed to, iii. 477.

Life-guard, Washington's, conspiracy of several members of, against the life of Washington—organization of (note)—flag and uniform of (note), ii. 177;

Sergeant Uzal Knapp the last survivor of (note), ii. 178.

Lillington, Colonel, in command of minute-men in the battle at Moore's-creek bridge—biographical notice of (note), ii. 117.

Lincoln, General Benjamin, plan of, for driving the British fleet from Boston harbor, ii. 83;
commissioned major-general in the continental army—attempt by Lord Cornwallis to surprise, at Boundbrook, ii. 433;
in command of the republican troops in the South, ii. 650;
pursuit of General Prevost by, ii. 651;
a prisoner-of-war to the British at Charleston, ii. 673;
surrender at Yorktown conducted by, ii. 736.

Lineage of Washington traceable for six hundred years, i. 18.

Liston, Mrs., tears shed by, at Washington's farewell dinner, iii. 471.

Litchfield jail, Connecticut, Mathews, mayor of New York, and other tories, sent to, ii. 222.

Little Egg Harbor, expedition against, under the command of Captain Patrick Ferguson, ii. 643.

Little Meadows, Washington at, in 1754, i. 101.

Little Miami, lands owned by Washington on, at the time of his death, iii. 543.

Livery, order of Washington for, i. 196.

Live stock owned by Washington at the time of his death, iii. 544.

Livingston, Brockholst, hostility of, to Jay's treaty, iii. 351;

Jay's treaty assailed by, through the press, iii. 369.

Livingston, Chancellor, oath administered to Washington by, in 1789, iii. 94.

Livingston, Edward, resolution offered in Congress by, demanding papers relating to Jay's treaty, iii. 391, 394;
letter of Washington to Hamilton respecting the resolution of, iii. 394.

Livingston, Governor, of New Jersey, letter of sympathy from, to Washington, ii. 351.

Logan, the Mingo chief, relatives of, killed, i. 472;
speech sent by, to Lord Dunmore, i. 473.

Logstown, Washington at, in 1753 and in 1770, i. 359.

London, transcript of an order of Washington to his agent in (note), i. 307;
petition of the merchants of, in relation to American affairs, i. 612.

Long Island, instructions of Washington to Putnam, relative to the seizure of tories on, ii. 158;

British troops landed on, ii. 260, 262, 263;
tories at the west end of, ordered by the New-York convention to be arrested, ii. 261;
the best of Washington's troops at the battle of, never before engaged, ii. 267;
reliance of Washington on Providence, expressed on the eve of the battle of, ii. 268;

American loss in the battle of, not accurately known—causes of the loss of the battle of, ii. 276;
evacuation of, by the American army, ii. 279;

“dreadful mistake" made by Colonel Scammel during the evacuation of, ii. 280;
evacuation of, facilitated by a heavy fog, ii. 282;
condition of the army after the battle of, ii. 284;
tour of Washington in, in 1790, iii. 162.

Longueuil, narrow escape of Arnold from the British at, ii. 166.

Loudoun, Lord, Washington recommended to, for promotion—biographical notice of (note), i. 230;
almost viceregal power of, i. 231;
indolence and indecision of, i. 235, 240;
letter addressed by Washington to, i. 237;
flattering acknowledgment of Washington's letter to—Washington at the council held by, in Philadelphia, i. 239;
disappointment of Washington as to the results of his interview with—remark of Franklin in relation to, i. 240;
insolent speech of, in the northern council of governors, i. 247;
mystery drawn by, around his plans—at the head of six thousand provincial troops in 1757—delays and indecision of—determines upon an expedition against Louisburg, i. 248;
embargo laid by, on all ships in American ports—suspected of sharing the profits of army and navy contractors—failure of his expedition against Louisburg. i. 249;
close of his inglorious campaign in the North—superseded, in 1758, by General Abercrombie, i. 252.

Louisburg, Lord Loudoun's expedition against, in 1757, i. 248;

Amherst's expedition against, in 1758—Wolfe, Boscawen, and Montgomery, at the siege of, i. 260;
present condition of the site of the fortress of—French standards taken at, hung in St. Paul's cathedral at London, i. 262.

Louis, Colonel, a Caghnawaga chief, farewell taken of, by Arnold and others, ii. 167.

Louisiana, invasion of, contemplated by Genet, iii. 274;
an expedition for the invasion of, in 1794, frustrated by Washington, iii. 305.

Lovell, James, a leader of Conway's Cabal, in Congress—spirit of Conway's Cabal revealed by a letter of, to Gates, ii. 577.

Loyalists, action of Congress with regard to, ii. 92;
largely relied on by the British ministry, ii. 428.

Luzerne, Chevalier de, arrival of, at West Point, ii. 662.

Lyman, General, his share in the defeat of Dieskau, i. 182, 184.

M.

Macaulay, Mrs., History of England written by, presented by Washington to Reverend Thomas Davis, iii. 534.

M'Crea, Jane, death of, ii. 481;

General Gates's false statement as to the manner of her death, ii. 482;
false account of the manner of her death told by Burke—popular story respecting the death of (note), ii. 483.

M'Donald, Allan, the husband of Flora, among the Scotch loyalists in North Carolina, ii. 114;
made prisoner at the battle at Moore's-creek bridge, ii. 119.

M'Donald, Donald, commander-in-chief of the loyal Highlanders in North Carolina, ii. 115;
royal ensign set up by, at Cross creek, ii. 116;
retreat of, pursued by Moore, ii. 117;
made prisoner after the battle at Moore's-creek bridge, ii. 119.

M'Donald, Flora, biographical notice of (note), ii. 114.

M'Dowell, president of the college at Annapolis, letter of Washington to, respecting young Custis (note), iii. 583.

M'Gillivray, Alexander, head chief of the Creek Indians in 1790—made a colonel in the service of Spain, iii. 154;
made an honorary member of the St. Andrew's Society in New York—treaty negotiated with, by General Knox, iii. 155.

M'Ginnes, Captain, death of, i. 183.

M'Henry. James, appointed secretary of war in 1795, iii. 372;
letters of Washington to, after his retirement to private life, iii. 480-482;
urgency of, with Washington, to resume the command of the army, iii. 510, 513;
despatched to Mount Vernon with Washington's commission as commander-in-chief, iii. 512;
instructions of Adams to, on setting out for Mount Vernon (note), iii. 513;
interview of, with Washington, at Mount Vernon, iii. 514;
list of officers given to, by Washington (note), iii. 515;
negligent correspondence of, as secretary of war, complained of by Washington, iii. 523;
conference of, with Hamilton and Pinckney, respecting the provisional army, in 1798, iii. 525.

letter of Washington to, expressing anxiety respecting his various trusts, iii. 535.

Machias, British vessels captured at, i. 732.

Mackay, Captain, letter of Washington to Dinwiddie, in relation to the claims of, i. 115;
respect of Washington for, i. 116;
in the trenches at Fort Necessity, i. 120.

M'Kean, Chief-Justice, hostility of, to Jay's treaty, iii. 353.

Mackenzie, Captain Robert, correspondence of, with Washington, i. 450, 451.

Maclean, Colonel, march of, to the relief of St. John on the Sorel, i. 678;
driven back by Majors Brown and Livingston, i. 679;
arrival of, at Quebec, during the siege by Arnold, i. 701;
and his Scotch Highlanders the only reliable defence of Quebec, i. 702;

Arnold's summons to surrender disregarded by, i. 703;
stationed at Deschambault with an advanced corps, ii. 147.

M'Leod, Alexander, a leader among the Scotch Highlanders in North Carolina, ii. 115;
killed in the battle at Moore's-creek bridge, ii. 118.

M'Neare, doorkeeper of the second continental Congress, i. 528.

M'Pherson, plan of, for the destruction of the British fleet in Boston harbor, i. 748.

M'Pherson Blues, survivors of, in May, 1860 (note), iii. 568.

Madison, a contributor to The Federalist, iii. 77;
desire of, that Washington should remain in office, iii. 199;
letter addressed to, by Washington, in relation to his desire to retire from public life, iii. 200;
esteem of Washington for, iii. 232;
resolutions of, in relation to commercial restrictions and duties, iii. 291;
debates in Congress on the resolutions of, iii. 292;
urged by Jefferson to attack Jay's treaty though the press, iii. 370;
speech of, denouncing Jay's treaty, iii. 399;
alarm occasioned by the speech of, iii. 400;
suggestions of, used by Washington in the preparation of his Farewell Address, iii. 426.

Magaw, Colonel, Fort Washington left in charge of, ii. 313;
his surrender of Fort Washington, ii. 331.

Malmedy, Monsieur, Washington annoyed by the importunities of, ii. 448.

Mamaroneck, attack made upon Rogers at, by Colonel Haslet, ii. 314.

Manchester, duke of, his speech in Parliament, on the evacuation of Boston, ii. 86.

Mandamus councillors obnoxious to the whigs (note), i. 427.

Manly, Captain, English store-ship captured by—brass mortar taken by, christened Congress by Putnam and Mifflin, i. 741.

Manufactures, Congress urged by Washington, in 1796, to foster, iii. 455.

Marion, General Francis, movements of, in the South, ii. 682, 703;
repulse of, at Georgetown, on Winyaw bay, ii. 703;
camp of, on Snow's island—flight of Colonel Watson before, ii. 704.

Markoe, Captain, Washington escorted by, on his way to Cambridge, i. 574.

Marshall, John, mission to France declined by, iii. 443;
special envoy to France in 1798, iii. 496;
ordered to leave the territories of the French republic, iii. 504;
death of Washington announced in Congress by, iii. 560;
character of Washington, as given by, iii. 575.

Martin, Governor, of North Carolina, alarm and perplexity of, ii. 111;
letter of, to General Gage, intercepted—cannon in front of the palace of, carried off by the patriots—flight of, to Fort Johnston, on Cape-Fear river—accessory in inciting a servile insurrection on Tar river, ii. 112;
flight of, on board the British sloop-of-war Cruiser—confidence of, in the loyalty of many in North Carolina—assistance expected by, from Clinton and Cornwallis, ii. 113;
proclamation sent forth by, from on board the Scorpion—commissions sent by, to the Highlanders and other loyalists in North Carolina, ii. 114;
the last royal governor of North Carolina—biographical notice of (note), ii. 120.

Maryland, government of, abdicated by Eden, ii. 184;
property owned by Washington in, at the time of his death, iii. 543.

Mason, George, correspondence of, with Washington, in relation to the exclusion of British merchandise, i. 347;
as a statesman (note), i. 355;
adverse to the constitution, iii. 77.

Massachusetts, heavy taxes paid by the people of, in 1758, i. 259;
action of the British Parliament toward, i. 353;
persons charged with treason in, to be sent to England for trial—sympathy of Virginia with, i. 354;
assembly of, adjourned by Governor Bernard to Cambridge, i. 367;
committees of correspondence originated in, i. 382, 383;
oppressive measures adopted by Parliament toward, i. 389;
first steps toward revolution taken by, i. 468;
noble action of the provincial congress of, i. 501;
preparations for war made by the provincial congress of, i. 503;
general assembly of, how constituted (note), i. 623;
promptness of the militia of, in supplying vacancies in the camp at Cambridge, i. 762.

Mathews, David, mayor of New York, arrest of, i. 174;
removed from New York to Litchfield—kind treatment of, in Connecticut (note), ii. 222.

Maxims of Washington in youth, i. 37;

Chief-Justice Marshall's opinion of—remarks of Mr. Sparks respecting, i. 42.

Mazzei, Philip, letter of Jefferson to, asserting the growth of a monarchical party—biographical notice of (note), iii. 418;

Jefferson's letter translated by, and published in Florence (note), iii. 419.

Medal in gold ordered by Congress in commemoration of the evacuation of Boston, ii. 80.

Megantic, Lake, encampment of Arnold on the eastern shore of, i. 693.

Meigs, Lieutenant-Colonel, British stores at Sag Harbor destroyed by, ii. 439.

Melvin, James, hardships endured in Arnold's Quebec expedition described by, i. 692.

Mercer, Colonel, death of, at Oswego, i. 234.

Mercer, Doctor Hugh, with Braddock in his expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 152;
at the destruction of Kittanning, i. 226;
commissioned a brigadier-general, ii. 172;
backwardness of recruits for the flying camp of, at Amboy, ii. 231;
watch to be kept by, over West Jersey, ii. 308;
night-march on Princeton led by, ii. 386;
attacked by Colonel Mawhood at Princeton, ii. 387;
left for dead in a bayonet-charge of Mawhood's men, ii. 388;
biographical notice of (note), ii. 391.

Merchandise, British, refusal of the colonists to purchase, i. 322, 333;
associations with the object to exclude, i. 347, 355;
views of Washington on the exclusion of, i. 347;
letter of George Mason to Washington, on the exclusion of, i. 350.

Mercier, Chevalier de, architect of Fort Duquesne, i. 98.

Methodist Church, early opposition of, to slavery, iii. 152.

Middlebrook, camp of Washington established at—strength of the army at, ii. 443;
ample equipments of the army at—vigilance of Washington when at, ii. 444;
forces concentrated by Washington at, ii. 450;
anxiety of General Howe to draw Washington from his camp at, ii. 451;
perplexity of Washington at, with regard to the movements of the British, ii. 454, 455;

Captain Graydon's account of a visit to the American army at, ii. 457;
headquarters of Washington at, in 1778, ii. 645.

Mifflin, Thomas, urgency of, though a Quaker, to resort to arms if necessary, i. 460;
invited for the first time to a council of war, ii. 61;
commissioned brigadier-general by Congress, ii. 157;
appointed major-general in the continental army, ii. 403;
leader of Conway's Cabal, in the army, ii. 576;
duties as quartermaster neglected by, ii. 599;
address of, as president of Congress, to Washington, on the latter's resigning his commission, iii. 36;
second in command in the force sent against the Whiskey Insurrection in 1794, iii. 315.

Militia, Washington's opinion of, i. 222; ii. 281, 286, 303, 353, 415;
panic in Colonel Rufus Putnam's regiment of, at White Plains, ii. 317;
refusal of, to man the lines at Fort Washington, ii. 331;
complaint of Washington at having to depend upon, ii. 415;

President Adams authorized to call out eighty thousand, iii. 496.

Militia, Virginia, unrestricted power given to Washington to draft, in 1758, i. 256.

Mint, national, establishment of, iii. 174, 176.

Minute-men, origin of the, i. 399; many enrolled in Massachusetts in 1775, i. 470;
monument to the memory of, at Lexington (note), i. 506;
summoned to supply the place of Connecticut troops, i. 759;
proposal to enroll eighty thousand in 1794, iii. 297.

Mirabeau, remarks of, on the Declaration of Independence, ii. 216.

"Mischianza,” the, a fête at Philadelphia, in honor of the brothers Howe, ii. 614.

Mississippi river, control of, in the hands of the Spaniards in 1789, iii. 99;
claims to the free navigation of, urged upon Spain, iii. 157;
free navigation of, demanded by the people of Kentucky in 1794, iii. 304;
free navigation of, secured by treaty with Spain in 1795, iii. 380.

Mohawk river, land owned by Washington on, at the time of his death, iii. 543.

Monacatoocha, captured while with Braddock's army, i. 160;
a son of, killed by mistake—son of, buried with military honors, i. 161.

Money, continental, measures of Congress in relation to the issue of, i. 549;
form of the bills of (note), i. 550.

Monmouth, account of the battle of, ii. 619-626;
bad conduct of General Lee at, ii. 623;
death of Colonel Monckton at—losses of the British and Americans at, ii. 625;
advance of Washington from, to Brunswick, ii. 626.

Monongahela, fort built at the fork of, by the advice of Tanacharisson, i. 72;
battle of the, miraculous escapes of Washington at, i. 168;
consequences of the battle of the, i. 173;
reputation of Washington increased by his conduct at the battle of the, i. 174;
the defeat at the, balanced by the victory at Lake George, i. 183.

Monro, Colonel George, his brave defence of Fort William Henry against Montcalm, i. 251;
capitulation of, to Montcalm, i. 251.

Monroe, James, sent as minister to France in 1794—letter of, on his arrival in Paris, to the president of the National Convention, iii. 304;
auspicious moment of his arrival in France, iii. 302;
reception of, by the French government—address of the National Convention to, iii. 436;
cares and annoyances of—mortification caused to the American government by the conduct of, in France, iii. 437;
imprudent assurances given by, to the French government, iii. 438;
application of, for a copy of Jay's treaty, refused by Mr. Jay, iii. 439;
little good accomplished by, in France, iii. 441;
recall of, determined upon—letter addressed to Washington respecting, by officers of the government (note), iii. 442;
the confidence of the French government lost by, iii. 444;
letter addressed to, by Washington, defending his policy toward France—satisfactory reply made by, to the charges of the French government, iii. 445;
refusal of the French government to receive any other minister, on the recall of, iii. 492;
unworthy part played by, on presenting his letters of recall to the French government, iii. 493.

Montcalm, Marquis de, successor to Dieskau in Canada, i. 232;
siege of Oswego by, i. 233;
humanity and politeness of—faithlessness of, according to Graham (note), i. 234;

Fort William Henry besieged by, in 1757, i. 250;
force of, at Quebec, i. 294;
vigilance of—unsuccessful attempt of Wolfe to storm the intrenchments of, i. 295;
incredulity of, as to Wolfe's having scaled the Heights of Abraham, i. 298;
mortal wound received by—letter of, to General Townshend, recommending prisoners to humane treatment—and Wolfe, monument erected to, i. 300.

Montgomery, Richard, by the side of Wolfe in the attack upon Louisburg in 1758, i. 261;
appointed brigadier-general in the continental army—brother-in-law of Robert R. Livingston, i. 548;
letter of, to General Schuyler, in relation to his movement on Isle aux Noix—Schuyler's affection for and confidence in, i. 663;
siege of St. John on the Sorel conducted by, i. 670;
insubordination in the camp of, at St. John, i. 671, 676;
blamed for generosity toward prisoners, i. 680, 705;
determination of, to advance on Montreal, i. 698;
anxiety of, on his entering Canada, for a junction with Arnold—troops of, unwilling to follow him to Canada—Montreal abandoned by Sir Guy Carleton on the approach of—large quantities of woollen clothing found in Montreal by—anxiety of, to proceed to Quebec, i. 700, 701;
mortification of, at the unwillingness of his troops to advance on Quebec, i. 703;
letter of, to Schuyler, complaining of the want of gentlemen among his officers, i. 704;
deserted by many of his New-England troops and Green Mountain Boys, i. 705;
determination of, to retire from the public service—major-general's commission bestowed upon, by Congress, i. 706;
junction of, with Arnold, at Point aux Trembles, i. 708;
departure of, for Quebec, from Point aux Trembles, in a snowstorm—Holland House the headquarters of, at the siege of Quebec—inadequate means of, for the investment of Quebec, i. 709;
letters of, to the citizens of Quebec, conveyed within the walls by the agency of a woman, i. 714;
breast-works of ice erected by, destroyed, i. 715;
plan of, for an assault, delayed by dissentions among his officers—last letter written by, to General Schuyler (note), i. 716;
plans of, made known to Carleton by deserters—plan of attack changed by, i. 717;
death of, while heading an attack upon a battery in charge of Captain Barnsfare, i. 718;
party led by, driven back to Wolfe's cove, i. 719;
remains of, subsequently removed to New York—monument erected to the memory of, by order of Congress—British officers affected by the death of—eulogium pronounced over the remains of, by Governor Carleton, i. 722.

Monticello, retirement of Jefferson to, in 1793, iii. 289.

Montour, an Indian interpreter with Washington at Great Meadows, i. 114.

Montreal, siege of, by Amherst, in 1760—capitulation of, i. 301;
a provincial congress recommended to the people of, by Montgomery, i. 712;

Arnold in command at, ii. 101;
arrival at, of the commissioners to form a union with the colonies, ii. 145;
retreat of Arnold from, on the approach of the British—goods of merchants of, seized by Arnold (note), ii. 165.

Moore, Colonel James, Donald M'Donald pursued by, to Moore's creek, ii. 117.

Moore's-creek bridge, the battle at, the first of the Revolution below the Roanoke, ii. 119;
impulse given by the victory at, to the Revolution in the South, ii. 182.

Moravians, of Salem, in North Carolina, address of, to Washington (note), iii. 182.

Morgan, Doctor John, successor of Doctor Church at the head of the army hospital, i. 613.

Morgan, General Daniel, with Braddock in his expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 152;
anecdote of, i. 152, 618;
arrival of, at Cambridge, with a body of southern riflemen—marks upon the back and breast of, i. 618;
with Arnold in his expedition against Quebec, i. 683, 697;
made prisoner at the siege of Quebec, i. 721;
sent with his riflemen to the assistance of Gates, ii. 495;
at Bemis's Heights, ii. 530;
testimony of Gates to the value of the corps of, ii. 550;
pursuit of, by Tarleton, ii. 713;
defeat of Tarleton by, at the Cowpens, ii. 714;
escape of, from Cornwallis, ii. 715;
fourth in command in the force sent against the Whiskey Insurrection in 1794, iii. 315;
correspondence of, with Washington, in relation to the Whiskey Insurrection, iii. 317.

Morocco, relations with, in 1795, iii. 379.

Morris, Gouverneur, stands to Houdon, in Paris, for Washington's statue, iii. 50;
agent of the United States in London, in 1790, iii. 156;
extract from the diary of Washington in relation to the mission of, iii. 157;
mission of, unsuccessful, iii. 160;
report of, on the currency, in 1782, iii. 175;
successor of Jefferson at the French court, iii. 222;
gloomy accounts written by, from Paris, iii. 223;
language of Jefferson respecting, iii. 224;
recall of, demanded by the French government, iii. 295;

James Monroe appointed the successor of, iii. 295, 301;
letter of Washington to, expressing anxiety for the ratification of Jay's treaty, iii. 383;
private letter of Washington to, intercepted by the French government, iii. 445;
adverse to Adams's hasty sending of envoys to France in 1799, iii. 530.

Morris, Robert, letter of Washington to, complaining of defection in the republican ranks, ii. 366;
important service rendered by, to Washington, at Trenton, by a loan of money, ii. 381;
declension in the character of Congress remarked by, ii. 432;
money borrowed by, of Rochambeau, ii. 726;
lodgings taken by Washington at the house of, in 1785, iii. 62;
testimony of, to the abilities of Hamilton, iii. 121;
house of, in Philadelphia, selected for the residence of Washington, iii. 167;
rent of house of, iii. 170.

Morris, Roger, headquarters of Washington at the house of, on Harlem Heights, ii. 297.

Morristown, design of Washington to make his winter-quarters in the neighborhood of—activity of Washington at, ii. 392;
headquarters of Washington in the Freemasons' Tavern at—military family of Washington at, ii. 398;
precautions taken by Washington against small-pox in the camp at, ii. 401;
the bulk of the army at, composed of militia, ii. 413;
letters of Washington in relation to the condition of the army at, ii. 414;
camp at, broken up, ii. 442;
sufferings of the republicans at, ii. 666, 706;
meeting of the Pennsylvania troops at, ii. 707.

Mother of Washington, character and habits of—her single weakness, i. 29;

Sir Matthew Hale's “Contemplations" a favorite book of, i. 30;
opposition of, to George's entering the navy, i. 44;
fondness of, for fine horses, i. 46;
her son's visit to, on his return from Great Meadows, i. 124;
opposition of, to her son's joining Braddock, i. 140;
opposed to her son's taking any part in the frontier wars, i. 188;
visit of Washington to, at Fredericksburg, in 1789, iii. 85;
death of, in 1789, iii. 117.

Moultrie, Colonel, fort on Sullivan's island, in Charleston harbor, taken possession of by—national flag made under the directions of (note), ii. 186;
strong fort erected by, on Sullivan's island, ii. 187;
defence of Fort Sullivan by, ii. 190;
pair of colors presented to, by the ladies of Charleston—colors presented to, now in the Tower of London (note)—biographical notice of (note), ii. 196.

Mount Defiance, works at Ticonderoga, and on Mount Independence, commanded by, ii. 464.

Mount Vernon, the home of Washington in his nineteenth year, i. 57;
return of Washington to, after Braddock's defeat, i. 186;

Washington an invalid at, in 1758, i. 252;

Washington arrives at, with its future mistress, i. 288;
life of Washington at, at the close of the French and Indian War, i. 303;
became Washington's by the death of the daughter of his brother Lawrence (note)—as it was when the abode of Washington, i. 304;
agricultural products of the estate of, i. 306;
generous scale of hospitality at, before the Revolution—names of distinguished visitors at, i. 308;
tranquil years passed by Washington at, before the Revolution, i. 310;
return of Washington to, on the dissolution of the first continental Congress, i. 454;
the headquarters of military councils in the winter of 1774-'75, i. 471;
busy life of Washington at, in 1775, i. 475;
news of the battle of Lexington at, i. 527;
alarm occasioned at, by the movements of Lord Dunmore (note), ii. 26;
threatened by Lord Dunmore, ii. 110;
return of Washington to, at the conclusion of the war, iii. 37;
numerous visitors at, in 1784, iii. 42, 48;
visit of Lafayette to, iii. 42;

Washington's improvements at, in 1785, iii. 50;
influence of Washington on public affairs while in retirement at, iii. 59;
young Lafayette and M. Frestel at, in 1797, iii. 479;
habits of Washington at, after his retirement to private life, iii. 482;

Lawrence Lewis invited by Washington to reside at, iii. 483;
occupation of Washington at, in 1798, iii. 488;

Washington recalled from, to public life, in 1798, iii. 490.

Moustier, Count de, ball given in honor of Washington by, iii. 110.

Muhlenburg, General, hostility of, to Jay's treaty, iii. 353.

Murray, General, with Amherst at the siege of Montreal in 1760, i. 301.

Murray, Mr., successor of Adams as minister to Holland in 1796, iii. 423;
copy of a letter of Talleyrand transmitted by, to the government at Washington—nominated by Adams minister plenipotentiary to France, iii. 528;

Oliver Wolcott, and Governor Davie, of North Carolina, associated with, as envoys to France, iii. 529.

Muse, Adjutant, the manual exercise acquired by Washington with, i. 46, 62;
with Washington at Great Meadows, i. 113;
alleged cowardice of, i. 124;
caustic letter of Washington to (note), i. 361.

N.

Nantasket road, stay of the British fleet in, after the evacuation of Boston, ii. 81.

Nash, General, death of, at Germantown, ii. 556;
biographical notice of (note), ii. 557.

Natanis, chief of the Norridgewock Indians, with Arnold in his Quebec expedition—made prisoner at Quebec (note), i. 695.

National Gazette, Philip Freneau editor of, in 1791, iii. 197.

Natural Bridge, in Virginia, Washington's initials carved upon, in 1750, i. 56.

Navigation, inland, ideas of Washington in relation to, iii. 43.

Navy, Washington at the age of fifteen about to enter, i. 44;
measures taken by the continental Congress for the organization and regulation of, i. 743;
commencement of, in 1794, iii. 294;
officers of, appointed by Washington in 1794 (note), iii. 295;
increase of, urged by Washington, in 1796, iii. 455;
increase of, recommended by Adams, in the prospect of a war with France, iii. 495.

Neal, John, lines by, on the fortification of Breed's hill, i. 557.

Nelson, Governor, patriotism displayed by, at the siege of Yorktown, ii. 734.

Netherlands, rejoicings in Boston, in 1793, at the conquest of, by France, iii. 237.

Neutrality, efforts of Washington to preserve, in 1793, iii. 239;
proclamation of Washington enjoining, iii. 241;
laws in relation to, sustained in 1793, iii. 257.

Neville, General, house of, at Pittsburgh, burned by insurgents, in 1794, iii. 310.

Newark, entrance of Cornwallis into, at the moment of Washington's retreat from, ii. 346.

New Berne, North Carolina, spirit of opposition to British rule prevalent in, in 1774—provincial convention of republicans called at—assemblage of the legislature at, ii. 111;
visit of Washington to, on his southern tour, in 1791, iii. 181.

Newburg, Washington with the army at, iii. 7;
discontents in the army at, iii. 15;
addresses of Armstrong to the army at. iii. 16, 18;
address read by Washington to a meeting of officers at (note), iii. 18;
resolutions of a meeting of officers at, iii. 20;
letter of Washington to the president of Congress in relation to the meeting at, iii. 21.

Newburyport, departure of Arnold from, for the invasion of Canada, i. 688.

Newcastle, duke of, his ignorance and incapacity—anecdote of, told by Horace Walpole (note), i. 129;

Horatio Gates consulted by, in relation to the colonies—advice of Mr. Hanbury to, i. 130.

New England, liberality and heroism of, in colonial times, i. 175;

Dieskau defeated by men principally from, i. 184;
tour of Washington through, in 1789, iii. 125;
demonstrations of respect paid to Washington in, iii. 126, 134.

Newfoundland, measures of Lord North hostile to the New-England fisheries at, i. 496.

New Hampshire, late ratification of the federal constitution in, iii. 78.

New-Hampshire Grants, history of, i. 523.

New Haven, rejection of Washington in, in 1789, iii. 126.

New Jersey, treasury of the province of, taken possession of by the people, after the battle of Lexington, i. 516;
measures taken by Washington for the defence of, ii. 323;
despondency of the people of, ii. 350;

Governor Livingston powerless in, ii. 351;

British protections taken by persons in (note), ii. 366;
indignation of the people of, at the brutal conduct of the Hessians, ii. 397;
proclamation issued in, by Washington, in relation to loyalists, ii. 400;
course of conduct of Washington censured by members of the legislature of, ii. 401;

Americans left in possession of, by General Howe, ii. 453;
remonstrance of troops from, with the legislature—mediation of Washington in favor of troops from, ii. 657;
sum of money raised by the ladies of, for the army, ii. 679;
mutiny of troops of, at Pompton. ii. 709.

Newport, threatened by Captain Wallace, ii. 16;
tories of, deprived of their arms by General Lee—oath administered by General Lee to the tories of, ii. 17;
the French blockaded in, by Admiral Arbuthnot, ii. 681;
voyage of Washington to, in 1790, accompanied by Jefferson, iii. 162.

New Rochelle, post taken at, by Lord Howe, ii. 312.

New York, population of, in 1756, i. 198;
powers of the governor and legislature of, suspended—sympathy of all the other colonies with, i. 342;

British ministers misled by the loyal bearing of the assembly of, i. 487;
loyalty of, in 1775, i. 496;
refusal of the assembly of, to sanction the proceedings of the first continental Congress—provincial congress assembled in, i. 515;
functions of government assumed by the provincial congress of—large proportion of troops furnished by, for the continental army (note), i. 516;
arrival of Washington in the city of, on his way to Cambridge—address of the president of the provincial congress of, to Washington, i. 577;
peculiar position of the province of—influence of the loyalists in, i. 579;
plan of the British ministry for taking possession of, ii. 30;
measures recommended by Congress for the defence of—machinations of Tryon in, ii. 31;
alarm occasioned in, by the action of Lee against the tories, ii. 39;
flight of tories from, ii. 39, 41;
effect in, of the news of the evacuation of Boston, ii. 78;
measures of Washington for the defence of, ii. 82;
respect paid to Washington on his way to, from Boston—fortified by Lord Stirling, ii. 84;
extreme caution of the provincial congress of, ii. 127;
list of names of the vigilance committee appointed by the whigs of, ii. 128;
alarm occasioned in, by broadsides from the Asia, ii. 129;
temporizing policy of the provincial congress of, ii. 130;
batteries in and near, in March, 1776 (note), ii. 137;
placed under martial law by General Putnam, ii. 138;
headquarters of Washington in—society broken up in, ii. 139;
communications between the people of, and the king's ships, ii. 140;
measures of Congress for the defence of, ii. 170;
schemes of the tories in, under the direction of Tryon, ii. 172, 173;
inadequacy of the force at, for its defence, ii. 179, 180;

Declaration of Independence read to the troops in—statue of George III. in, destroyed by a party of soldiers and citizens, ii. 214;
excitement caused in, by broadsides from British ships, ii. 218;
arrival of Lord Howe at—tories in prison in, removed to the interior, ii. 221;
sectional jealousies in the camp at, ii. 230, 242;
backwardness of recruits in joining the camp at, ii. 231;
defensive works in the neighborhood of, ii. 233;
the abandonment of, by Washington, recommended by the state convention, ii. 234;
fire-ships constructed to destroy British vessels in the harbor of, ii. 236;
deficiency in numbers and discipline of the army of Washington at, ii. 241;
alarm occasioned in, by the firing in the battle of Long Island, ii. 273;
destruction of, proposed by Washington, and urged by General Greene, ii. 286, 287, 289;
desertions from the American army at, after the battle of Long Island, ii. 285, 287;

Washington directed by Congress not to destroy—rumors respecting the burning of, in the British camp, ii. 287;
letter of Washington respecting the designs of the British against—evacuation of, proposed by Washington, ii. 288;
inhabitants of, recommended by Washington to remove from, ii. 262;
evacuation of, commenced under the superintendence of Colonel Glover, ii. 294;
more than seven years in the possession of the British, ii. 297;
great fire in, immediately after its occupation by the British—origin of the great fire in (note), ii. 300;

New York and Rhode Island, the British confined to, ii. 645;
harbor of, frozen over in the winter of 1779-'80, ii. 665;
movements of the allies in the neighborhood of, ii. 722-724;
relief to the southern states by the movements at, ii. 725;
evacuation of, by the British, iii. 32;
legislature of, in favor of a closer federal union, iii. 56;
journey of Washington to, in 1789, iii. 85;
reception of Washington at, in 1789, iii. 89;
frugal habits of Washington in, iii. 169;
houses occupied by Washington in (note), iii. 169.

New Windsor, headquarters of Governor Clinton at, ii. 546.

Niagara, expedition against, under Governor Shirley, proposed by General Braddock, i. 141;
failure of Shirley's expedition against, i. 185.

Nicola, Colonel Lewis, letter of, to Washington, urging his assumption of the title of king, iii. 8;
reply of Washington to, iii. 9.

Ninety Six, siege of, by General Greene, iii. 2.

Noailles, Viscount de, refuge taken by, in America (note), iii. 278.

Norfolk, distress of the loyalists on board the ships at, ii. 24;
laid in ashes by Lord Dunmore, ii. 25;
destroyed by the republicans under Colonel Stevens—barracks erected at, by Lord Dunmore, ii. 109.

North Carolina, “Regulators" of, in 1770, i. 371;
loyalty of, in 1775, i. 496;
provincial congress formed in, i. 520;
embarkation of Cornwallis for, with seven regiments, ii. 90;
outrages of Cornwallis in, ii. 185;
increase of the revolutionary feeling in, ii. 111;

Martin the last royal governor of, ii. 120;
hesitation of, to ratify the federal constitution, iii. 98.

North Castle, retreat of Washington from White Plains to, ii. 322;
perplexity of Washington at, as to the movements of General Howe, ii. 323.

Northern American army, bad condition of, in the autumn of 1776, ii. 243.

North, Lord, chosen prime minister in 1770, i. 364;
character and personal appearance of—early opposition of, to the Americans (note), i. 365;
proposal of, to continue the duty on tea, i. 366;
large majority of, in the house of commons, in 1774, i. 485;
caricatures of, published in England, i. 486;
preparatory measures of, for the coercion of the colonies, i. 493;
address to the king relative to American affairs moved by. i. 494;
bill hostile to the trade of New England brought forward by, i. 496;

“conciliatory bill" brought forward by, i. 497;
misrepresentations of the evacuation of,Boston made by. ii. 85;
decisive conciliatory measures proposed by, in relation to the colonies—opposition to the measures of, by Lord Chatham, ii. 608;

Washington's opinion of the proposed measures of, ii. 609;
the bills of, treated with scorn throughout the country, ii. 610;
resignation by, of the premiership, after the surrender at Yorktown, ii. 740.

Northwest territory, General Arthur St. Clair appointed governor of—hostility of the Indians in—force sent against, under General Harmar, iii. 156;
peace made with the Indians in, in 1794, iii. 329;
lands owned by Washington in, at the time of his death, iii. 543.

Nova Scotia, conquest of, by General Winslow, in 1755, i. 178;

Washington adverse to a proposed expedition against, i. 629;
embarkation of tories for, in 1783, iii. 22.

O.

- Ogden, Matthias, with Arnold in his expedition against Quebec, i. 697.

- Ohio, account of Washington's mission to the French commander on the, in 1753, i. 75-92.

- Ohio Company, object and constitution of, i. 60;

- movements of, in 1750, i. 71.

- Ohio country, journey of Washington to the, in 1770, i. 358;

- abundance of game in the, i. 359.

- Ohio expedition, perils and sufferings of Washington and his party while on the, i. 90.

- Ohio, policy of driving the French beyond the, advocated by Washington, i. 205.

- "Old Dominion,” why so called (note), i. 236.

- Old South Church, in Boston, used as a riding-school by Burgoyne's dragoons, i. 745.

- Onondaga towns, destruction of, ii. 655.

- Orders in council, British, in 1794, iii. 296;

- revocation of, iii. 297.

- Orme, Captain, letter of, to Washington, urging him to become one of the family of General Braddock, i. 139;

- his opinion of colonial troops—biographical notice of (note), i. 151.

- Orne, Azar, appointed major-general of Massachusetts militia, ii. 60.

- Oswegatchie river, fort at the mouth of, a rendezvous of Indians and tories, ii. 148.

- Oswego, supplies thrown into, by Bradstreet, i. 232;

- siege of, by Montcalm, in 1756, i. 233;

- death of Colonel Mercer at—capitulation of the fort at, i. 234.

- Otis, James, eloquent speeches made by, i. 317, 344;

- misfortunes and death of (note), i. 318.

P.

Paine, Thomas, “Common Sense" written by, ii. 11;
influence of his writings in keeping alive the spirit of the Revolution (note), ii. 202;
agency of, in transmitting the key of the Bastile from Lafayette to Washington—letter of, to Washington, accompanying the key, iii. 164;
malignant letter addressed to Washington by, iii. 461;
extracts from the letter of, written from the house of Monroe, in Paris, iii. 462.

Palfrey, William, letter of Washington to, respecting the tories in Portsmouth, i. 746.

Pall-bearers at the funeral of Washington, iii. 559.

Paris, a Virginian, defeat of Donville by, i. 209.

Paris, treaty of, vast extent of territory given to England by, i. 313.

Parker, Captain, minute-men at Lexington under the command of, i. 504.

Parker, Captain, sent up the Hudson river in the Phœnix by General Howe, ii. 218, 309.

Parker, Sir Peter, arrival of, with a British fleet, off Charleston bar, ii. 188;
attack of the fleet of, upon Fort Sullivan, ii. 190;
wounded in the attack upon Fort Sullivan, ii. 193.

Parliament, accordance of, with the king, in measures against Massachusetts, i. 449;
confidence of, that the “rebellion" would soon subside, ii. 395.

Parsons, General, biographical notice of (note), ii. 548.

Paterson, Judge, office of secretary of state offered to, by Washington, in 1795, iii. 371.

Paulus's Hook, capture of, by Captain Henry Lee, ii. 660.

Peace, negotiations for, commenced at Paris, iii. 10;
commissioners appointed to negotiate a treaty of, iii. 15;
treaty of, signed by Franklin, Adams, Jay, and Henry Laurens, iii. 15;
news of the treaty of, iii. 21;
definitive treaty of, when signed, iii. 29.

Peace of 1763, Washington introduced into a wider field of action by, i. 321.

Peale, Angelica, civic crown placed upon the head of Washington by, iii. 86.

Peale, Charles Willson, earliest portrait of Washington painted by, iii. 476.

Peekskill, unsuccessful attempt of the British to seize stores at, ii. 426;
recommended by Washington as a point for the concentration of troops, ii. 428;
eight regiments of the forces from Massachusetts ordered by Washington to, ii. 429.

Pemberton, Israel, objection of, to the Sunday-laws of New England, i. 455;
warm answer to the objections of, by John Adams, i. 456.

Pendleton, Edmund, Washington's journey to the first continental Congress in company with, i. 417.

Penn, Governor, friendly to the patriots (note), i. 457;
banished to Fredericksburg, in Virginia, i. 461;
petition intrusted to, for presentation to the king, i. 606.

Pennibecker's Mill, Washington's army encamped at, ii. 551.

Pennsylvania, early popularity of Washington in, i. 197;

Indian depredations on the frontier of, in 1756, i. 225;
peace secured on the frontier of, by the destruction of Kittanning by Colonel Armstrong, i. 227;
conduct of the troops from, ii. 347, 500, 708;
weakness of Washington's army in, ii. 365;
necessities of the continental army supplied by, ii. 670;
mutiny at Morristown of the troops from, ii. 707;
proposal of the executive council of, to bestow a pecuniary reward on Washington, iii. 41;
resistance in the western parts of, to the excise laws, in 1792, iii. 217.

letter of Washington respecting rebellious movements in, in 1794, iii. 305;
commencement of the “Whiskey Insurrection" in the western counties of, iii. 307;
volunteers raised in, in 1794, through the eloquence of Mifflin (note), iii. 317;
property owned by Washington in, at the time of his death, iii. 543.

Penobscot bay, destruction of an American flotilla in, by Admiral Collier, ii. 661.

Percy, Lord, British reinforcements brought up by, at the battle of Lexington, i. 508;
narrow escape of, at Cambridge, i. 509.

Peyroney, Chevalier de, with Braddock in his expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 152.

Philadelphia, number of houses in, in 1756, i. 198;
private entertainments in, in 1774 (note), i. 419;
measures taken by the people of, after the battle of Lexington, i. 517;
the continental army marched by Washington through the streets of, ii. 495;
application of Hamilton to the ladies of, for clothing for the troops, ii. 517;
march of Cornwallis into—fortifications of, taken possession of by the British—cannonade opened upon, by frigates in the Delaware, ii. 518;
the capture of, disastrous to the British cause, ii. 519;

Washington urged to make an attack upon, ii. 566;
language of Marshall, in relation to Washington's prudence in not attacking, ii. 567;
preparations of the British for leaving, ii. 616;
evacuation of, by Sir Henry Clinton, by order of the British ministry, ii. 617;
sum of money raised by the ladies of, for the patriot army, ii. 678;
reception of Washington at, in 1789, iii. 86;
chosen in 1790 as the seat of government for ten years, iii. 150;
effects of the removal of the seat of government to, iii. 167;
arrival of Washington in, in 1790—Mrs. Washington's first levee in, iii. 170;

Washington's proclamation in 1793 approved by the “solid men" of, iii. 250;
yellow fever in, in 1793, iii. 280;
left by Washington during the visit of the yellow fever in 1793, iii. 281;
banquet given by the merchants of, on Washington's retirement from office, iii. 476;
last visit of Washington to, iii. 525.

Philipse family in New York, great landed estates of (note), i. 202.

Philipse, Mary, Washington's admiration of, i. 199;
undeclared passion of Washington for, i. 201.

Pickens, Colonel, Colonel Boyd defeated by, ii. 651.

Pickering, Colonel, letter of, to Washington, hinting suspicions of Randolph, iii. 360;
successor of Randolph, as secretary of state, in 1795, iii. 372;
letters of Washington to, iii. 496, 528, 530.

Pinckney, Charles Cotesworth, hostility of, to Jay's treaty, iii. 354;
office of secretary of state offered to, by Washington, in 1795, iii. 371;
letter of Washington to, urging his acceptance of the mission to France, iii. 443;
refusal of the French government to receive, iii. 492;
ordered to leave France, iii. 493, 504;
notified by the French government to leave Paris, iii. 494;
special envoy to France in 1798, iii. 496;
indignant reply of, to the agents of the French Directory, iii. 503;
appointed major-general in the provisional army, in 1798 (note), iii. 515;
encomium passed by Washington upon the character of, iii. 518;
willingness of, to serve as major-general under Hamilton—conference of, with M'Henry and Hamilton, respecting the provisional army, in 1798, iii. 525.

Pinckney, Thomas, minister to the court of St. James in 1792, iii. 223;
a candidate for the vice-presidency in 1796, iii. 451;
letter of Washington to, in relation to the troubles with France, iii. 495.

Pine, Robert Edge, portrait of Washington painted by, iii. 50.

Pitcairn, Major, sent by General Gage to seize stores at Concord, i. 503;
attack made by the soldiers of, upon the minute-men at Lexington, i. 505.

Pitt, Lord, unwillingness of Lady Chatham that he should bear arms against the colonists (note), i. 686;
instructions of Washington to Arnold respecting, i. 686.

Pitt, William, placed at the head of the British ministry—Lord Loudoun recalled by—expeditions proposed by, against Louisburg, Ticonderoga, and Fort Duquesne—General Forbes appointed by, to lead the expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 253;
measures of the Virginia assembly in response to the wishes of, i. 255;
conquest of Canada aimed at by, i. 259;
effect upon, of the news of the disaster at Ticonderoga, i. 266;
design of, to complete the conquest of Canada in 1759, i. 289;
his plan of the campaign in America in 1759, i. 290;
on the American “subjects,” i. 321;
opposition of, in the house of commons, to the stamp-act—reply of, to an interrogatory of Grenville, i. 324;
his commendation in Parliament of the colonists for resisting the stamp-act, i. 339;
his denial of the right of England to tax the colonies, i. 340;
made earl of Chatham—medley cabinet of, in 1766, described by Burke (note), i. 342;
various oppressive measures toward the colonies attempted by the cabinet of, i. 343;
declining popularity of, as earl of Chatham—foolish fondness of, for display (note), i. 363;
astonishing effect of the return of, to public life, in 1770, i. 364;
opposition of, to Lord North, i. 364, 365;

(See Lord Chatham.)

Pitt, William (the younger), liberal commercial policy of, in 1783, iii. 100.

Pittsburgh, a noble monument to the memory of William Pitt, i. 284;
resolution adopted at, in 1792, in relation to the excise law (note), iii. 216;
resistance in, to the excise law, iii. 308.

Ploughed hill, occupied by Washington at the siege of Boston, i. 640.

Poacher, Washington's chastisement of a, i. 309.

Pohick Church, in Truro parish, Virginia, history of—characteristic anecdote of Washington in connection with, i. 337;
condition of, when visited by the author in 1848 (note)—extract from the record-book of (note), i. 338.

Polson, William, with Braddock in his expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 152.

Pomeroy, Seth, appointed brigadier-general in the continental army—brief biographical notice of, i. 548;
courage displayed by, at Breed's hill, i. 562;
retirement and death of, i. 593.

Pondevez, Viscount de, reception of Washington by, on board the Illustrious, in 1789, iii. 132.

Pontiac, hostile confederation brought about by, among the Indian tribes—frontier forts seized by Indians under the direction of, i. 319;

Detroit besieged by, in 1768—death of, at Cahokia, i. 320.

Pope's creek, domain of Washington's ancestors on, i. 17, 35.

Poplopen's creek, fortress erected at the mouth of, ii. 170.

Porterfield, Captain, with Arnold in his expedition against Quebec, i. 697.

Portsmouth, New Hampshire, fort at, taken possession of by Sullivan and Langdon, i. 484;

Sullivan sent to prepare the fort at, for the defence of the town, i. 734;
visit of Washington to, in 1789, iii. 133.

Post, Christian Frederick, an emissary of General Forbes among the western Indians (note), i. 284.

Post-office department, Franklin placed at the head of, by the second continental Congress, i. 612.

Potomac, barge kept on, by Washington, at Mount Vernon, i. 310.

Potomac Company, fifty shares in, offered to Washington by the Virginia legislature—Washington president of, iii. 47.

Pott's Grove, Washington at, ii. 516.

Potts, Isaac, the house of, the headquarters of Washington at Valley Forge, ii. 602;
iron foundry and forge of, called “Valley Forge" (note)—Washington seen by, in the woods, at prayer (note), ii. 602.

Pownall, Governor, statement of, of the number of troops in the French forts and settlements (note), i. 282.

Prayers read by Washington in camp near Fort Necessity, i. 117.

Presbyterian Church, abolition of slavery recommended by, in 1788, iii. 152.

Presbyterians almost all whigs during the progress of the Revolution, i. 403.

Prescott, Colonel William, fortification of Bunker's hill intrusted to—personal appearance of—-Breed's hill chosen by, instead of Bunker's, i. 556;
voluntary exposure of, at Breed's hill (note), i. 558;
narrow escape of, at Breed's hill. i. 569.

Prescott, General, capture of, by Rhode-Island republicans, ii. 473;
exchange of, for General Lee, ii. 474, 613.

Preston, Captain, Boston mob fired upon by the soldiers of—and his men tried for murder, and acquitted, by a Boston jury, i. 368;
his obstinate defence of the fort at St. John on the Sorel, i. 678;
honorable terms of surrender granted to, by Montgomery, i. 680.

Prevost, General, invasion of South Carolina by, ii. 651.

Price, Mr., assistance rendered by, to Montgomery, at Montreal, i. 712.

Priestley. Doctor, letters of Franklin to (note), i. 605, 641.

Princeton, troops left at, by Washington, under Lord Stirling and General Adam Stephen, ii. 351;
night-march of Washington upon—advance led by Mercer in the night-march on, ii. 386;
troops at, animated by the presence of Washington, ii. 388;
defeat of the British at, ii. 389;
strong impression produced on the public mind by the battle at, ii. 390;

Captain Leslie, son of the earl of Devon, killed at—American losses at, ii. 891;
long-continued quiet of the two armies after the battle at, ii. 413;
adjournment of Congress to, iii. 26;
address of Congress to Washington at. iii. 28.

Prisoners, cruel treatment of, by General Gage, i. 630;
correspondence between Washington and Gage in relation to the treatment of, i. 630-635;
ill treatment of, retaliated by Washington, i. 633;
numbers taken by the British and Americans respectively, down to the close of 1776, ii. 404;
letter of Washington to General Howe, relative to an exchange of—cruel treatment of, by the British, ii. 405;
letter of Washington to the president of Congress, in relation to the treatment of, ii. 408;
letter of Washington to Lord Howe, in relation to the treatment of, ii. 409;
reply of Lord Howe to the letter of Washington, ii. 410;
joint commission proposed, to settle questions in relation to—refusal of Washington to exchange an equal number of healthy for sickly, ii. 412;
difficulties respecting the exchange of, ii. 605;
commissioners appointed to regulate the exchange of, ii. 606.

Privateers fitted out by order of Washington, i. 740;
decision of Washington's cabinet, in 1793, respecting, iii. 270;
act of Congress in relation to, in 1798, iii. 496.

Proclamation issued by Washington, enjoining neutrality, in 1798—language of (note), iii. 241;
approved by the “solid men" of Philadelphia, iii. 250;
controversy respecting, between Hamilton and Madison, iii. 262.

Proclamations issued by Washington in 1794, addressed to the insurgents in Pennsylvania (note), iii. 311, 314.

Property of Washington directed by his will to be sold, iii. 542;
notes of Washington in relation to, iii. 544.

Prophecy, Indian, respecting the destinies of Washington, iii. 48.

Prospect hill, shell thrown to, from Boston, by the British, ii. 62.

Providence, Washington's acknowledgment of a, i. 387.

Provincials, admirable conduct of, at the battle of the Monongahela, i. 167, 169.

Provost, Doctor, prayers offered by, at the inauguration of Washington, iii. 96.

Pulaski, Count, awaiting an appointment to a troop of horse, ii. 497;
conspicuous bravery of, at the battle of the Brandywine, ii. 510;
force of infantry under the command of, surprised and massacred by Ferguson, ii. 643;
mortally wounded at the siege of Savannah, ii. 663.

Putnam, Colonel Rufus, appointed brigadier under Wayne in 1791, iii. 197.

Putnam, General Israel, at the defeat of Dieskau, i. 182, 184;
with Abercrombie at Ticonderoga, i. 262;
taken prisoner by the French and Indians in 1758, i. 266;
at Cambridge with a body of Connecticut men, i. 543;
appointed by Congress associate major-general with Philip Schuyler i. 547;
efforts of, to turn the fugitives at Bunker's hill, i. 569;

“impregnable fortress" of, on Cobble hill, i. 761;
intrenchment on Lechmere's Point begun by, i. 764;
sent to New York to assume the chief command there, ii. 82;
martial law proclaimed by, in New York, ii. 138;
left in command at New York by Washington—instructions of Washington to, relative to the seizure of Long-Island tories, ii. 157;
obstructions sunk in the Hudson river, near Fort Washington, under the direction of, ii. 237;
command of the troops in Brooklyn given to, on the approach of the British, ii. 264;
neglect of, to secure the hill-passes in the neighborhood of Bedford, ii. 277;
escape of the troops of, from New York, under the guidance of Aaron Burr, ii. 296;
almost unlimited powers granted to, by Congress in Philadelphia, ii. 362;
outwitted by Sir Henry Clinton, ii. 543, 546;
narrow escape of, from British dragoons, ii. 658.

Q.

- Quakers, adverse to a union of the colonies, i. 455;

- opposition of, to the American Association, i. 456, 457;

- account of a meeting of, in 1775, from Pennsylvania and New Jersey, i. 457;

- “Testimony” of the, i. 458;

- as a body friends of the king to the end of the war, i. 459, 460;

- harsh condemnation of the “Testimony" of, by Christopher Marshall (note), i. 459;

- the “Testimony” of, repudiated by a large number of—military company of, called The Quaker Company—aid and comfort given to the enemy by—records of meetings of, found to be treasonable, i. 460;

- names of, banished to Fredericksburg (note)—spies upon Washington in camp at Valley Forge—orders issued by Washington respecting, i. 461;

- Roberts and Carlisle, members of the sect of, hanged as spies—apology for the conduct of, i. 462;

- adverse to a day of fasting and prayer appointed by Congress (note), i. 531;

- congratulations of, offered to Cornwallis on his entrance into Philadelphia, ii. 518;

- memorial of, in relation to slavery, laid before Congress in 1790, iii. 152;

- volunteers from, among the troops sent to put down the “Whiskey Insurrection" in 1794, iii. 321.

- Quebec, siege of, by General Wolfe, i. 293-300;

- capitulation of, to General Townshend—General Murray left to defend—siege of, by De Levi, in 1760, i. 300;

- opportune arrival of Lord Colville at, i. 301;

- expedition against, intrusted to Arnold, i. 683;

- instructions of Washington to Arnold on his departure for, i. 683-687;

- approach of Arnold known in, through Indian treachery—terror of the people of, on the arrival of Arnold at Point Levi, i. 696;

- Maclean's Highlanders the only reliable defence of, during the siege by Arnold, i. 702;

- small British squadron sent from Boston for the relief of, i. 711;

- probable success of the Americans at, reported to Washington by Captain Freeman, i. 713;

- reliance of Sir Guy Carleton upon troops from England for the defence of, ii. 99;

- garrison of, reinforced—sortie from, led by Carleton, upon the Americans on the Plains of Abraham—retreat of the American army from, to Chamblée and St. John, ii. 102.

- Quincy, Josiah, biographical notice of (note), i. 464;

- letters of, written from London, in relation to the Revolutionary struggle, i. 465-467;

- extract from a speech of, delivered in Boston, in 1773 (note), i. 465;

- scheme of, for protecting the harbor of Boston, i. 748.

R.

Radnor, earl of, letter of Washington to, from Mount Vernon, in 1798, iii. 488.

Ralle, Colonel, surprise of, at Trenton, ii. 373;
mortal wound received by, at the head of his grenadiers, ii. 374;
visited at his quarters by Washington and Greene, ii. 375.

Randolph, Edmund, resolutions of, in the convention to amend the federal confederation, iii. 66;
appointed by Washington attorney-general in 1789, iii. 121;
successor of Jefferson as secretary of state, iii. 289;
letters of Washington to, in relation to Jay's treaty, iii. 357, 359;
suspicions thrown on the integrity of, by intercepted papers of Fauchet, iii. 361;
office in the cabinet resigned by, iii. 363;
correspondence of, with Washington, in relation to the matter of Fauchet's intercepted papers, iii. -363-366;
implications in Fauchet's papers denied by—written declaration of Fauchet in favor of—threats of, to damage the reputation of Washington, iii. 364;
vindication of, published by himself, iii. 366;
regret of, in after-life, for his course toward Washington, iii. 367.

Randolph, Peyton, chosen president of the first continental Congress, i. 421;
name of, presented to the British government in a bill of attainder (note), i. 481;
chosen president of the second continental Congress, i. 528;
biographical notice of (note), i. 534.

Rappahannock, house and lands on the, bequeathed to George Washington by his father, i. 29;
stone thrown across the, by Washington, at Fredericksburg, iii. 593.

Raritan, bridge of boats over the, constructed by General Howe, ii. 450

Rawlins, Mr., Washington bled by, in his last sickness, iii. 553.

"Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington.” by G. W. P. Custis, extracts from (note), iii. 531.

Red Hook, Long Island, redoubt erected upon, ii. 84.

Reed, Colonel Joseph, of Philadelphia, letter of, to the earl of Dartmouth, in relation to the general Congress, i. 411;
extract from a letter of, on the continental Congress, i. 419;
letter of, in relation to the unanimity of feeling in the colonies in opposition to the claims of Parliament, i. 447;
letter of, to Lord Dartmouth, denying that independence was aimed at, i. 453;

Washington's private secretary at Cambridge, i. 574;
letter of Washington to, on the condition of the continental army, ii. 14;
letter of Washington to, alluding to the difficulties of his position at Cambridge, ii. 46, 50;
sent by Washington to meet Lieutenant Brown, bearing a flag from Lord Howe, ii. 225;
despondent letter of, in relation to the prospects of the republic (note), ii. 311;
letters of, to General Lee, ii. 338, 339;
unfaithfulness of, to Washington, ii. 340;
letter of General Lee to, reflecting on Washington—disaffection of, discovered by Washington, ii. 347;
explanatory letters of, to Washington, ii. 348;
prisoners taken by, near Princeton, ii. 382.

Regulators of North Carolina, in 1770, i. 371;
defeated by Governor Try on, and the leaders hanged, i. 372;
junction of, with the tories—respect of, for the oath given to Tryon (note), ii. 114.

Reidesel, Baroness, with her husband in the camp of Burgoyne, ii. 534;
account left by, of the generous conduct of Schuyler, ii. 537.

Religion, Washington's opinion of the importance of, to the well-being of a state, i. 336.

Republican and Federal parties, origin of, iii. 151.

Republicans, Jefferson at the head of the party, iii. 188.

Revere, Paul, people incited by, to seize the fort at Portsmouth, i. 484;
bills of the first issue of continental money engraved by (note), i. 550.

Rhode Island, batteries of Newport seized by the people of, i. 484;
army voted by the assembly of, after the battle of Lexington, i. 514;
complete equipment of the troops from, in the army at Cambridge, i. 596;
tories of, quiet after the visit of General Lee, ii. 18;
combined efforts of the American and French forces to recapture, ii. 637;
singular conduct of D'Estaing at, ii. 638;
severe engagement at Quaker hill, on—arrival of Sir Henry Clinton at—irritation caused by the failure to recapture, ii. 639;
and New York, the British confined to, ii. 645;
refusal of, to ratify the federal constitution, iii. 98;
not visited by Washington, in his tour through New England, in 1789, iii. 134;
federal constitution adopted by, in 1790—visit of Washington to, in 1790, iii. 162.

Richmond hill, Washington and his military family occupants of the mansion at, in 1776, ii. 172.

Richmond, visit of Washington to, on his southern tour, iii. 180;

Riflemen, American, origin of the Indian-like dress of, i. 389.

"Rights of Man,” Paine's, detested by John Adams, but admired by Jefferson, iii. 190;
apparently endorsed by Washington and Jefferson, iii. 191;
several copies taken by Wellington to Mount Vernon—statement of Paine respecting the sale of (note), iii. 200;

Rivington, the tory printer, type and presses of, destroyed by Sears, ii. 33.

Roberts and Carlisle, Quakers, hanged as spies, i. 462.

Robespierre, fall of, in 1794, iii. 302.

Robinson, Colonel, defence of Boston Neck by, i. 513.

Robinson, Speaker, letters of Washington to, urging the invasion of the Ohio country, i. 206, 244;
letter of Washington to, in relation to the conduct of Governor Dinwiddie, i. 218;
advice of, to Washington, not to resign his commission, i. 245;
address of, on the part of the Virginia house of burgesses, to Washington, i. 288.

Rochambeau, Count de, arrival of French troops under the command of, at Newport, ii. 679;
blockaded in Newport by Admiral Arbutbnot, ii. 681;
conference of Washington with, at Weathersfield, ii. 722;
money borrowed of, by Robert Morris, ii. 726;
death of, at the age of eighty-two, iii.500.

Rockingham, marquis of, speech of, in Parliament, on the evacuation of Boston, ii. 88.

Rocky hill, near Princeton, house engaged by Congress at, for the use of Washington, iii. 28;
last general order of Washington dated at, iii. 29.

Roebuck, Doctor, efforts of, to counteract the influence of Franklin in England, i. 485.

Rogers, Major, suspicious conduct of, ii. 18;

British army joined by, ii. 19;
arrested, by order of Washington, at South Amboy (note), ii. 20;

Queen's Rangers embodied by, ii. 309;
attack made upon the rangers of, by Colonel Haslet, at Mamaroneck, ii. 314.

Roxbury, description of the fort at (note), i. 589;

General Ward's division stationed at, at the siege of Boston, i. 619.

Roxbury Neck, burning of Brown's house at, i. 588.

Royal American regiment, formation of, proposed, i. 229.

Royal Gazette, spurious letters published in, in 1778, charged to have been written by Washington, iii. 448.

Rules of behavior, fifty-four, from an early manuscript volume of Washington, i. 37-41.

Rush, Doctor Benjamin, courage and philanthropy of—biographical notice of (note), iii. 281.

Rutledge, John, Patrick Henry's opinion of, as an orator, i. 450;
made governor of South Carolina—biographical notice of (note), ii. 187;
military works constructed by, near Charleston, ii. 188;
made dictator by the legislature of South Carolina ii. 671;
appointed associate judge of the supreme court in 1789, iii. 122;
hostility of, to Jay's treaty, iii. 354.

S.

Sabbath, observance of the, by Washington, iii. 112.

Sag Harbor, destruction of British stores at, by Lieutenant-Colonel Meigs, ii. 439.

St. Clair, Colonel Arthur, despatched by General Thompson against Maclean, at Three Rivers, ii. 147;
commissioned major-general in the continental army, ii. 403;
force under the command of, at Ticonderoga, ii. 463;

Ticonderoga evacuated by, ii. 465;
pursued by Burgoyne, ii. 466;
retreat of, to Fort Edward, ii. 467;
superseded in the northern department by Arnold, ii. 470;
suspicions excited against, ii. 697;
appointed governor of the Northwest territory, iii. 156;
expedition of, against the Indians in the Northwest, iii. 176, 193;
caution given to, by Washington, iii. 176;
surprise and defeat of, iii. 193;
considerate conduct of Washington toward, iii. 196.

St. Clair. Sir John, military posts visited by, in 1754, i. 137.

St. John, unauthorized descent upon, by Captains Broughton and Selman, i. 742.

St. John on the Sorel, capture and abandonment of, by Arnold, i. 646;
retreat of Ethan Allen from—reinforcements sent to, by Governor Carleton, i. 647;
surrender of, to Montgomery—clothing out of the captured stores allowed by Montgomery to the garrison of—Major André among the prisoners taken at, i. 680.

St. Leger, Colonel, junction of, with Sir John Johnson, at Oswego, ii. 459.

St. Pierre, Legardeur de, his reception of Washington at Fort Le Bœuf, i. 83;
audience given by, to Tanacharisson and his brother-chiefs, i. 84;
reply of, to the letter of Governor Dinwiddie, i. 85;
efforts of, to detain Tanacharisson and other chiefs of Washington's party, i. 86;
death of, i. 181.

Salem, Massachusetts, patriotism of the people of, i. 389;
unsuccessful attempt of Colonel Leslie to seize arms at, i. 502.

Salem, North Carolina, visit of Washington to a Moravian settlement at, in 1791, iii. 181.

Sanders's creek, total defeat of Gates at, by Lords Cornwallis and Rawdon, ii. 683.

Santee, Greene on the High Hills of, iii. 3.

Saratoga, militia of Massachusetts and Connecticut desired by Washington to rendezvous at, ii. 471;
destruction by Burgoyne of Schuyler's buildings at, ii. 535.

Savannah, seizure of powder in, by the patriots, i. 521;
combined attack of Lincoln and D'Estaing upon—Count Pulaski mortally wounded at the siege of, ii. 663;
gloom spread through the South by the repulse at, ii. 664;
evacuation of, by the British, iii. 11;
visit of Washington to, on his southern tour, in 1791, iii. 181.

Sayre, Stephen, letter of the earl of Chatham to, commending the continental Congress, i. 448;
biographical notice of (note), i. 449;
arrest of, in London (note), ii. 2.

Scalps, prices paid for, in early colonial times (note), i. 209.

School, Washington's application at, i. 45.

Schoolbooks, manuscript, of Washington, still in existence, i. 36.

Schoolfellows, Washington's, their regard for him, i. 36, 46.

Schuyler, Philip, at Oswego in 1756, i. 232;
commander at Fort George in 1756, i. 234.

Schuyler, Philip, appointed third major-general under Washington—brief biographical notice of—in the second continental Congress, i. 547;
instructions left with, by Washington, on his departure for Cambridge, i. 579;
affectionate letter of, to Washington, at Cambridge, i. 597;
powers granted to, by the second continental Congress, i. 610;
ordered to take possession of St. John and Montreal—command of the northern army taken by, i. 654;
alarming letters received by, from Tryon county, i. 655;
letter of, to Washington, in relation to affairs at Ticonderoga—return of troops in the colony of New York made by (note), i. 656;
letter of sympathy of Washington to, describing affairs in the camp at Cambridge, i. 657;
determination of, to invade Canada—efforts of, to secure the neutrality of the Six Nations, i. 661;
letter of Washington to, in relation to the invasion of Canada, i. 662;
address to the people of Canada issued by, from Isle aux Noix, i. 665;
movements of, against St. John, i. 667;
sickness of, on his expedition against St. John, i. 668, 669;
his commendation of Montgomery to the continental Congress, i. 668;

Major Brown and Colonel Ethan Allen sent into Canada by—compelled by sickness to give up his command to Montgomery, i. 669;
letter of, to Washington, in relation to the insubordination of troops, i. 676;
feeling against, among the Connecticut troops (note), i. 705;
letter of, to Washington, expressing his determination to retire from public life, i. 706;
ill feeling toward, among the troops from Connecticut, i. 708, 760;
directed by Congress to establish his headquarters at Albany, ii. 96;
disappointment of, at the disastrous turn of affairs in Canada—cheering words of Washington written to, ii. 103;

Sir John Johnson and his Scotch Highlanders disarmed by, ii. 105;
calumnies circulated respecting, ii. 153, 155, 245, 421;
almost constant bodily sickness of, ii. 244;
letter of, to Washington, in relation to Gates's claims of precedence, ii. 248;
resentment of Gates disavowed by the generous conduct of, ii. 250;
frank and honest character of—resolution of, to resign his commission, ii. 417;
indignation of, at a letter written by Colonel Joseph Trumbull, ii. 418;
neglect of his letters by Congress—censured by Congress for offensive language, ii. 419;
character of, thoroughly vindicated in Congress—fully reinstated in command in the northern department—assiduity of, as military commander in Philadelphia, ii. 422;
some of the slanders of, probably originated with Gates, ii. 423;
energetic action of, on the approach of Burgoyne, ii. 462;
efforts of, to hinder the march of Burgoyne, ii. 470;
wonderful forecast of Washington displayed in a letter to, ii. 471;
testimony of Irving to the noble qualities of, ii. 472;
machinations of Gates and others against, ii. 477;
ordered by Congress to the headquarters of the army, ii. 478;
retreat of, to Cohoes Falls, ii. 484;

“responsibility” taken by, in sending relief to Fort Schuyler, ii. 485;
great exertions of, to check the progress of Burgoyne, ii. 488;
exclusion of, by Gates, from his first council of war, ii. 521;
buildings of, at Saratoga, burned by Burgoyne, ii. 585.

Seabury, Reverend Samuel, carried off to New Haven by Sears, ii. 33.

Seamen, British-born, claimed by England when found on neutral vessels, iii. 272.

Sears, Captain Isaac, scheme of, for disarming tories in New York, ii. 32;
type and presses of Rivington, the tory printer, destroyed by, ii. 33;
plan of, for disarming the tories in New York, favorably considered by Washington and Lee, ii. 34.

Sears, Captain Robert, entrance of, into New York, at the head of a body of troops—biographical notice of (note), ii. 41;

British stores seized by, at Turtle bay, ii. 128.

Sedgwick, Mr., of Massachusetts, motion made by, in Congress, to provide for the execution of certain treaties, in 1796—warm debate on the motion of, iii. 398.

Senate, response of, to Washington's inaugural, in 1789, iii. 97.

Seneca Indians, name given to Washington by, ii. 657.

Seymour, Colonel, troop of horse of, dismissed by Washington, ii. 232;
mortification and generosity of, ii. 233;

Graydon's description of his troop of Connecticut light horse (note), ii. 242.

Sharpe, Governor, appointed to the command of all the colonial forces—invitation of, to Washington, to re-enter the army, i. 130;
his letter to Washington returned, i. 131;
remark of the king respecting the honesty of—superseded by General Braddock in the command of the colonial forces, i. 135.

Shenandoah, the valley of, famous for its abundance of winged game, i. 50.

Sherburne, Major Henry, sent to the relief of the fort at the Cedars—Indian ambuscade fallen into by, ii. 149.

Shingis, head sachem of the Delawares, with Washington in 1753, i. 77;
active with the French in 1756, i. 225.

Shirley, Governor, Washington's respect for, i. 145;
failure of his expedition against Niagara, i. 185;
visit of Washington to, in New England, in 1756, i. 196;
his reception of Washington in Boston, i. 200;
biographical notice of (note), i. 200.

Shuldham, Admiral, alarm of, on seeing the Americans on Dorchester Heights, ii. 65.

Silliman, General, militia collected by, to resist Tryon in his expedition against Danbury—joined by Wooster and Arnold, ii. 484.

Simcoe, Lieutenant-Colonel, Queen's Rangers commanded by, ii. 309.

Singleterry, arrest of, for enlisting on the privateer Citizen Genet, iii. 259.

Six Nations, seduced from the English interest after the destruction of the forts at Oswego, i. 235;
efforts of General Schuyler to secure the neutrality of—hostile attitude assumed by, through the influence of Sir John Johnson (note), i. 661;
induced to throw off their neutrality by the Johnsons, ii. 104.

Skene, Major Philip, a noted loyalist, with Burgoyne, ii. 480.

Skenesborough, expedition of Captain Herrick against, i. 645;
galleys destroyed at, by the British, ii. 467.

Slavery, action of several states in relation to, before 1790—petitions in relation to, laid before Congress in 1790, iii. 152;
resolutions reported by a Congressional committee in relation to, iii. 153;
remark of Washington on the action of Congress in relation to, iii. 154;
anxiety of Washington for the abolition of (note), iii. 535.

Slaves, Washington charged by Jasper Dwight with being a dealer in, iii. 477;
provision made by the will of Washington for the liberation of, iii. 535, 538.

Slave-trade, resolution adverse to the, adopted at the Williamsburg convention, in 1744, i. 405;
the American Association agree to discontinue the, i. 441;
action of various states in relation to the, before 1790, iii. 152.

Slocum, Lieutenant, in the battle at Moore's-creek bridge—anecdote of the wife of, told by Mrs. Ellett (note), ii. 118.

Small-pox, Washington attacked by, in Barbados—permanent traces of, on the countenance of Washington, i. 63;
precautions taken against, in the camp at Morristown, ii. 401.

Smallwood, Colonel, regiment of, sent by General Mercer to reinforce the army in New York, ii. 241.

Smallwood's regiment, admirable conduct of, in the battle of Long Island, ii. 275.

Smith, Adam, unfriendly to American freedom, i. 485.

Smith, Colonel, sent by General Gage to seize stores at Concord, i. 503;
courthouse at Concord set on fire by troops under—retreat of, from Concord, i. 507;
wounded in the leg near Lexington—command of, saved by the arrival of Lord Percy—extreme exhaustion of the soldiers of, i. 508.

Societies, democratic, in 1793, condemnation of, by Washington, iii. 264;
excise laws denounced by, iii. 311;
letter of Washington to General Henry Lee, in relation to, iii. 313;

Washington's opinion of (note), iii. 322;
denounced by Washington in his sixth annual message—debates in Congress, in relation to, iii. 324;
gradual dissolution of, iii. 328;
hostility of, to Jay's treaty, iii. 354.

Sons of Liberty, associations of, i. 324.

Sorel, condition of the republican army at the, after the flight from Quebec, ii. 146.

South Carolina, money sent to London from, in support of the Bill of Rights, i. 370;
royal power abdicated in, by Lord Campbell, ii. 186;
changes in the civil government of—happiness caused among the people of, by the change of government (note), ii. 187;
comparative quiet in, after the repulse of the British at Charleston, ii. 197;
citizens of, in the northern army, ii. 198;
invasion of, by Sir Henry Clinton, ii. 664;
hostility in, toward Jay's treaty, iii. 354.

South-Carolinians, inactivity of, at Great Meadows, i. 118, 119.

Southern tour of Washington in 1791, iii. 178;
equipage and attendants of Washington during, iii. 179;
plan of (note)—honors paid to Washington during, iii. 180.

Spain, king of, asses sent to Washington by, iii. 51;
unpleasant relations with, threatened in 1789, iii. 115;
relations of the United States with, iii. 157, 274.

Spencer, Joseph, appointed brigadier-general in the continental army, i. 548;
offence taken by, at the promotion of General Putnam, i. 593;
sent to New York with a brigade, ii. 82.

Stable of Washington before the Revolution, i. 307.

Stafford county, Virginia, removal of the Washington family to, in 1735, i. 24.

Stamp-act, submitted to the house of commons by George Grenville—the proposal of, how received in the colonies, i. 323;
opposition of William Pitt to, in the house of commons, i. 324;
signed March 22, 1765—letter of Franklin to Charles Thomson in relation to—provisions of (note), i. 325;
signed by the king in the incipient stages of insanity, i. 326;
excitement in the colonies on the news of its becoming a law—resolutions offered in the Virginia assembly in relation to, i. 327;
letter of Washington to Francis Dandridge in London, in relation to, i. 329;
popular action in opposition to, i. 332, 333;

Franklin examined before a committee of Parliament in relation to, i. 334;
repeal of, i. 335;

Pitt's commendation of the colonists for resisting—declaration of Charles James Fox in relation to the (note), i. 339.

Stamp-officers, refusal of the people of Boston to compensate, for their losses, i. 341.

Stanhope, Earl, letter of Lord Chatham to, relative to American affairs, i. 488.

Stanwix, Colonel, Washington placed under the orders of, while at Winchester, in 1757, i. 241;
letter of Washington to, advocating offensive measures against the French on the frontiers, i. 245;
letter of Washington to, requesting a favorable mention to General Forbes, i. 256;
assistance lent by, to Colonel Bradstreet, at the siege of Fort Frontenac, i. 267;
his share in the campaign of 1759, i. 290.

Stark, John, with Abercrombie at Ticonderoga, i. 262;
body of volunteers assembled by, i. 513;
at Breed's hill, i. 562;
victory at Bennington obtained by militia under the command of, ii. 487;
commission of brigadier given to, by Congress, ii. 489.

State debts, assumption of, recommended by Hamilton, iii. 141;
amount of the several (note), iii. 144.

Staten Island, troops landed at, from the British fleet, in 1776, ii. 179, 181, 217;
large number of troops at, under the command of General Howe, ii. 240;
unsuccessful descent upon, by Lord Stirling, ii. 667.

Stature of Washington (note), i. 306, iii. 591, 593, 595, 597.

Stephen, Adam, with Washington at Great Meadows, i. 114;
with Braddock in his expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 152;
commissioned major-general in the continental army, ii. 403;
biographical notice of (note), ii. 558.

Steuben, Baron von, arrival of, in the camp at Valley Forge, ii. 599;
office of inspector-general accepted by—unacquainted with the English language, ii. 601;

American regulars never beaten after having been drilled by, ii. 602.

Stevens, Colonel, Norfolk, Virginia, destroyed by republicans under, ii. 109.

Stillwater, battle of, ii. 524.

Stirling, Lord, command in New York devolved upon—biographical notice of (note)—British store-ship taken by (note), ii. 135;
measures of, for the defence of New York, ii. 136;

Highland fortifications visited and inspected by, ii. 170;
skirmish of, with General Grant, near Gowanus bay, ii. 271;
made prisoner by De Heister at the battle of Long Island, ii. 275;
appointed major-general in the continental army, ii. 403;
agency of, in exposing Conway's Cabal, ii. 581.

Stobo, Captain Robert, engineer at Fort Necessity, i. 119;
detained a prisoner by the French at Quebec and Montreal, i. 132, 134;
information sent by, from Fort Duquesne to the English camp, i. 133;
letter of, afterward found by the French in Braddock's cabinet—subsequent career of (note), i. 134.

Stock, United States and other, held by Washington at the time of his death, iii. 544.

Stoddart, Benjamin, appointed secretary of the navy in 1798, iii. 123.

Stono ferry, engagement at, ii. 652.

Stony brook, bridge at, made impassable by Major Kelly—forded by the troops of Cornwallis, ii. 390.

Stony Point, fort on, captured by the British, ii. 658;
plan of Washington for the capture of—capture of, by Wayne, ii. 659;
guns of, opened on Fort Lafayette and British shipping—dismantled and abandoned by the Americans—reoccupied by Sir Henry Clinton, ii. 660.

Strahan, Mr., an eminent London printer, remarkable letter of Franklin to (note), i. 605.

Strength of arm of Washington, iii. 593.

Stuart, Doctor David, letters of Washington to, iii. 70, 145, 161, 463.

Suffolk county, in Massachusetts, convention held in, i. 427;
resolves of the convention of, laid before the continental Congress, i. 432.

Sulgrave, domain of, granted by Henry VIII. to Lawrence Washington, in 1538, i. 19.

Sullivan, John, appointed brigadier-general in the continental army, i. 548;
biographical notice of, i. 549;
ordered by Washington to seize certain tories in Portsmouth as hostages, i. 746;
the successor of Thomas in command at the Sorel, ii. 148;
sanguine letter of, from the Sorel, ii. 151;
letter of Washington to Congress respecting, ii. 152;
melancholy words of, in relation to affairs in Canada, ii. 163;
retreat of, before Burgoyne, ii. 164, 166;
demoralization of the troops under the command of, ii. 166;
mortification of, at being superseded by Gates, ii. 168, 244;
departure of, from Crown Point, on the arrival of Gates, ii. 251;
placed in temporary command of the troops on Long Island—superseded by Putnam, ii. 264;
made prisoner in the battle of Long Island, ii. 272;
verbal message sent by, to Congress, by Lord Howe, ii. 289;
warm reply of Washington to the complaints of, ii. 431;
unsuccessful expedition of, against the British on Staten Island (note), ii. 495;
mischief caused at the battle of the Brandywine by the sensitiveness of, ii. 506;
expedition of, against the Indians on the Genesee river, ii. 656;
letter of Washington to, in relation to reforms in the army, ii. 700;
letter of Washington to, advocating executive departments, ii. 713.

Sullivan's Familiar Letters, personal appearance of Washington described in, iii. 601.

Sumter, General, movements of, in the South, ii. 682;
total defeat of, by Tarleton, ii. 684;
sent by Greene with light-troops into the neighborhood of Charleston, iii. 3.

Sunday, custom, in Virginia, of using it for political purposes (note), i. 400.

Sunday-laws of New England offensive to the Quakers, i. 455.

Surveying-expedition, Washington's first, journal of, still preserved—extracts from the journal of, i. 53;
extracts from a letter of Washington written during, i. 55.

Surveyor, Washington's experience as, a preparation for his high destiny, i. 52, 56, 58.

Surveys of Washington, correctness of, i. 56.

Swede's ford, General Howe at, ii. 513.

Swords left by Washington to his nephews, iii. 540.

T.

Table kept by Washington before the Revolution, iii. 585;
abstemious habits of Washington at, iii. 586;

Washington's at Philadelphia, iii. 589.

Taft, Mr., letter of Washington to, from Hartford, in 1789 (note), iii. 133.

Talleyrand, M. de, insulting propositions of, to the American envoys in Paris, iii. 501;
attempts of, to procure a douceur from the American envoys, iii. 502, 504;
interview of, with the American envoys, iii. 503;
declaration of war against the United States threatened by, iii. 504;
indirect efforts of, toward bringing about a reconciliation with the United States, iii. 527;
copy of a letter of, transmitted by William Vans Murray to the government at Washington—letter of Washington respecting the “fast and loose game" of, iii. 528.

Tallmadge, Major, Fort George, at Coram, surprised by, ii. 701.

Tanacharisson, remonstrance of, with Duquesne, against the aggressions of the French—interview of, with Franklin, in Pennsylvania, i. 73;
belt of wampum presented to, at Great Meadows, i. 114;
desertion of, on the approach of the French—subsequent history of (note), i. 120.

Tarleton, Colonel, massacre by, of a body of troops under Colonel Buford, ii. 676;
defeated by Morgan at the Cowpens, ii. 714;
total defeat of General Sumter by, ii. 682.

Tarrytown, arrest of Major André at, ii. 690.

"Taxation no Tyranny,” by Doctor Johnson, remarkable passage struck out of (note), ii. 113.

"Taxation without representation tyranny,” i. 323.

Tea, universally proscribed in the colonies in 1770, i. 369;
thrown overboard in Boston harbor, i. 388.

Tenbroeck, General, opportune arrival of, at the second battle near Bemis's Heights, ii. 532.

Ternant, M., successor of Count de Moustier, as French minister to the United States, iii. 223;
arrival of, at Newport, ii. 679.

Thacher, Doctor, personal appearance of Washington described by, i. 585;
testimony of, as to the skill of the southern riflemen, i. 618.

Thanksgiving, day of, recommended by Washington in 1789, iii. 124.

Theatre, first visit of Washington to, made in Barbados, i. 63.

Thomas, John, appointed brigadier-general in the continental army, i. 548;

Dorchester Heights taken possession of by, ii. 64;
appointed to command the army in Canada, ii. 97;
weakness of the Americans before Quebec on his arrival in camp—council of war called by, decide upon a retreat toward Montreal, ii. 101;
death of, of small-pox, at Chamblée, ii. 147.

Thompson, Colonel, Sir Henry Clinton held in check by, at Fort Sullivan, in Charleston harbor, ii. 189;

Sir Henry Clinton driven back by the riflemen of, ii. 192, 195.

Thompson, Colonel William, the British driven to their boats by, from Lechmere's Point, i. 761;
commissioned a brigadier-general, ii. 96;
chief command in New York assumed by, ii. 137;
troops sent toward Canada under, ii. 143;
defeated and made prisoner in Canada, ii. 163.

Thomson, Charles, chosen secretary of the continental Congress—biographical notice of (note), i. 421;
opinion of, as to the superiority of the first Congress (note), i. 423;
chosen secretary of the second continental Congress, i. 528;
letter borne to Washington by, informing him of his election to the presidency, iii. 84.

Three Rivers, disastrous expedition of General Thompson against Maclean at, ii. 162.

Throck's Neck, troops of Lord Howe landed at—transfer of troops from, to Pell's Neck, ii. 311.

Ticonderoga, fort at, erected by the French in 1756, i. 235;
attack upon, under Abercrombie and Lord Howe, i. 263;
admirable conduct of the troops at the siege of—inactivity and indifference of Johnson's Indians at, i. 265;
effect upon Pitt of the news of the disaster at, i. 266;
taken possession of by Amherst in 1759, i. 292;
expeditions undertaken against, by Colonels Allen and Arnold, i. 524;
valuable stores taken at, by Allen, i. 526;
resolution of Congress respecting the spoils taken at, i. 529;
want of discipline among the troops at, under Colonel Hinman, i. 656;

Generals Schuyler, Gates, and Arnold, present at—command of the army at, devolved upon Gates, ii. 254;
preparation of a flotilla at, intrusted to General Arnold, ii. 255;
apprehended attack upon, by General Carleton—Colonel Wayne in command of, ii. 416:

General Heath ordered by Washington to go to, with Massachusetts regiments, ii. 417:

invested by the British under Burgoyne, ii. 463;
garrison of—the British cannon on Mount Defiance, ii. 464;
abandoned by St. Clair, ii. 465;
letters of Washington to Schuyler, in relation to the evacuation of, ii. 468, 469, 479.

Tilghman, Colonel, news of the surrender at Yorktown borne to Philadelphia by, ii. 737.

Titles, presidential, discussions in Congress respecting, iii. 103;

Washington averse to, iii. 105.

Toilet of Washington, iii. 587.

Toleration, religious, of Washington and John Adams (note), i. 451.

Tooke, John Horne, a prominent member of the Constitutional Society of England (note), i. 737.

Tories, treatment of, recommended by Washington, i. 747;
action of Congress with regard to, ii. 92;
conditional pardon offered to, by Congress, ii. 609;
embarkation of, for Nova Scotia, in 1783, iii. 22.

Town-Destroyer, a name given to Washington by the Seneca Indians, ii. 657.

Townshend, taxation of the colonies announced by, i. 315.

Tracy, of Connecticut, reply of, to the speech of Albert Gallatin, on Jay's treaty, iii. 404.

Trent, Captain, mission of, to the Ohio, in 1754, i. 94;
timidity of, i. 97.

Trenton, arrival of Washington at, with his fugitive army, ii. 351;
officers' watches set by Washington's before the attack upon, ii. 371;
complete surprise of Colonel Ralle and the Hessians in—narrow escape of Washington at (note), ii. 373;
rapid retreat of Washington from, ii. 375;
conduct of the troops at, commanded by Washington, ii. 376;
important influence of the victory at, ii. 378;
despatch of Washington to Congress, in relation to the affair at, ii. 379;

Washington joined by Cadwalader and Mifflin at, ii. 388;

Washington attacked by Cornwallis at, ii. 384;
left at night by Washington, ii. 385;
reception of Washington at, in 1789, iii. 87.

Trumbull, Governor Jonathan, of Connecticut, kind words of, toWashington—biographical notice of—correspondence of, with Washington, in 1775—extract from the Travels of De Chastellux in relation to (note), i. 598;

Connecticut levies detained by, for coast-defence, ordered to camp by Washington, i. 729;
mortification of, at the conduct of the Connecticut troops in the continental army, i. 760;
letter of, expressive of sympathy with General Gates, ii. 250;
tories sent to the care of, by Washington, ii. 261;
letter of Washington to, acknowledging the finger of Providence, iii. 79;
chosen speaker of the house of representatives, in 1791, iii. 192.

Trumbull, John, lines from a poem written by, i. 502;
in the family of Washington at Cambridge, i. 616;
eminence opposite Ticonderoga fortified on the recommendation of, ii. 254;
secretary of John Jay on his mission to England in 1794, iii. 300.

Trumbull, Joseph, appointed commissary-general of the continental army, i. 591;
his resignation of the office of commissary-general, ii. 404.

Tryon county, New York, savages and tories in, in 1775, i. 655.

Tryon, Governor, arrival of, in New York, on the same day as Washington, i. 577;
unscrupulous character of, i. 580;
machinations of, in New York, ii. 31;
refuge taken by, on board the sloop-of-war Halifax, ii. 130;
proclamation issued by, from on board the Duchess of Gordon, ii. 137;
schemes of New-York tories under the direction of, ii. 172, 173;
expedition undertaken by, to destroy stores at Danbury, ii. 433;
retreat of, from Danbury, harassed by Wooster, Arnold, and others, ii. 436;
escape of, aided by Sir William Erskine, ii. 437;
indignation aroused by the atrocities of, ii. 438;
copies of Lord North's bills sent by, to Washington—resolutions of Congress relating to—tories sent to, by Washington, ii. 609;
ravages of, in Connecticut, in conjunction with Collier—biographical notice of (note), ii. 654.

Tucker, Dean, proposal of, that Parliament should separate the colonies from the empire—biographical notice of (note), i. 487.

Tuckerman, Henry T., extract from the writings of, in relation to Washington's trials at Cambridge, i. 754.

Tupper, Major, lighthouse in Boston harbor destroyed by, i. 639;
row-galleys under the command of, sent up the Hudson to annoy the Rose and Phœnix, ii. 238.

Turtle bay, British stores seized at, by Sears, ii. 128.

Twigtwees, described by Mr. Gist (note), i. 110.

U.

- Union flag, when unfurled, ii. 1.

- Union of the colonies, Franklin's plan of, i. 127.

- University, national, anxiety of Washington for the establishment of, iii. 48, 331, 332, 333, 455, 437.

V.

Valedictory address, Washington's, iii. 202, 473, 476.

Valley Forge, chosen by Washington as a place for winter-quarters, ii. 569;
sufferings of the patriot army on its march to, ii. 570;
huts constructed at, by the army, ii. 570, 571;
forcible means used by Washington to obtain supplies for the army at (note), ii. 570, 598;
extreme hardships endured by the patriot army at, ii. 571;
committee of arrangements appointed by Congress to visit Washington at, ii. 595;

Mrs. Washington and other ladies at—Washington's headquarters at, at the house of Isaac Potts—name of, derived from the foundry and forge of Isaac Potts (note), ii. 602;
desertions from the camp at, ii. 604;
arrival at, of the news of the treaty with France, ii. 611;
oath of allegiance administered by Washington to the officers at, ii. 613;
camp at, broken up on the departure of the British from Philadelphia, ii. 618.

Van Braam, Jacob, Washington's fencing-master, i. 46, 62;
with Washington on his expedition to the Ohio in 1753, i. 76, 88;
with Washington at Great Meadows, i. 114;
alleged treachery of, i. 122, 124;
detained a prisoner by the French, i. 132, 134;
subsequent adventures of, i. 134.

Vaudreuil, Marquis de, successor of Duquesne—characteristic anecdote of (note), i. 177;
capitulation of, at Montreal, i. 301.

Vault, family, of Washington, wish of Washington to have it rebuilt, iii. 542;
new family, spot indicated for, by Washington, a few days before his death, iii. 550.

Vealtown, troops of General Lee at, ii. 357.

Vernon, Admiral, notice of, i. 26.

Verplanck's Point, fort on, captured by the British, ii. 658;
junction of the French and American troops at, iii. 11.

Veto-power, first exercise of it by Washington, iii. 198.

Vose, Major, lighthouse destroyed by, on Nantasket Point, i. 618.

Virginia, condition of, in the time of Charles II., i. 20;

Washington in charge of one of the military districts of, in 1751, i. 61;

Washington appointed, in 1755, commander of all the forces of, i. 188;
difficulty of raising troops in, to protect the frontier, after Braddock's defeat, i. 191;

Governor Dinwiddie's estimate of the population of (note), i. 222;
defenceless condition of the frontiers of, i. 225, 244;
substantial character of breakfast in, before the Revolution (note), i. 306;
indignation of the people of, at the right claimed by Parliament to tax the colonies, i. 368;
early efforts made in, to cast off the burden of negro slavery—instructions of the king to the governor of, in relation to the slave-trade, i. 379;
address of the assembly of, to the king, on the slave-trade, i. 380;
successive prorogations of the house of burgesses of, by Lord Dunmore, i. 381;
short but memorable session of the house of burgesses of, in 1773, i. 382;
intercolonial committees of correspondence originated in, i. 382, 383;
dissolutions of the house of burgesses of, by Lord Dunmore, i. 384, 392;
warlike spirit pervading, in 1775, i. 470;
troops of, reviewed by Washington in the winter of 1774-'75, i. 471;
effect in, of the news of the battle of Lexington—powder of the province of, seized by Lord Dunmore, i. 517;
royal power ended in, i. 520;
invasion of, by Cornwallis, ii. 720;
legislature of, in 1794, adverse to British creditors recovering their just debts, iii. 301;
disunion threatened in, in case Jay's treaty should be ratified, iii. 355;
property owned in, by Washington, at the time of his death, iii. 542.

Virginia convention proposed, to consider a proposition for a continental Congress, i. 395;
resolutions adopted at, i. 401-405;
eloquent speech of Washington at—delegates to the general Congress appointed at, i. 407.

Virginia convention, the second, held at Richmond in 1775, i. 476;
resolutions offered at, by Patrick Henry, i. 477;
eloquent speech of Patrick Henry at, i. 479, 481;
delegates to the second continental Congress elected at, i. 482.

Virginia Gazette, slanders of Washington in, in 1756, i. 211.

Virginia house of burgesses, Washington a candidate for, in 1758, i. 275;
cost of Washington's election to, i. 276;

Washington for fifteen years a member of, i. 308;
distinguished members of, in 1769, i. 353;
sympathy of, with Massachusetts—resolutions adopted by, in opposition to those of Parliament—dissolved by Lord Botetourt, i. 354.

Virginia planters, life of, before the Revolution, i. 305.

Virginia troops, letters of Washington in relation to the command of, i. 188;
commission as commander of, resigned by Washington—flattering address to Washington by the officers of, i. 286.

Visitors, Washington annoyed by, at Mount Vernon, iii. 483;
how received by Washington when president, iii. 603.

W.

Waldeck, prince of, mercenaries furnished by, ii. 6.

Wallace, Captain, legalized piracy of—Newport threatened by, ii. 16;
sent in the Rose up the Hudson river, ii. 218.

Walpole, Horace, on young Washington's love of the “whistling of bullets" (note), i. 105.

Wanton, Governor, blunt answer of, to Sir James Wallace, i. 484.

War-dance, Indian, witnessed by Washington and Fairfax, at Colonel Cresap's, in 1748, i. 54;
in the camp of Braddock at Will's creek, i. 151.

War, directions as to the mode of declaring, given by Dinwiddie to Washington (note), i. 228.

Ward, Ensign, capitulation of, to Contrecœur, in 1754, i. 98.

Ward, General Artemas, in command of troops in the neighborhood of Boston after the battle of Lexington, i. 513;
inefficiency of, i. 532;
appointed first major-general under Washington, i. 545.

Warren, Doctor Joseph, stay of, in Boston, to watch the British army and the tories, i. 503;
warning sent by, to Adams and Hancock, at Lexington, i. 504;
narrow escape of, at Cambridge, i. 509;
letter of, to General Gage, in relation to his want of good faith, i. 514;
a volunteer at Breed's hill, i. 562;
death of, at the close of the battle of Breed's hill, i. 569;
lament of the wife of John Adams for—Everett on the death of—biographical notice of, i. 571;
remains of, buried by the British, with proper honors—subsequent disposition of the remains of, i. 572.

Warren, James, appointed major-general of Massachusetts militia, ii. 60;
letter of Washington to, in relation to the Articles of Confederation, iii. 54.

Warren, Mrs. Mercy, remarks of, on the personal appearance of Washington and General Lee, i. 586.

Washington, Augustine, brother of George, the family homestead at Pope's creek bequeathed to, by his father, i. 28;
marriage of, with Anne Aylett—George an inmate in the family of, when at the school of Mr. Williams, i. 35;
letter of George to, in 1755, in relation to his ill-requitted service of the state, i. 186;
independent Virginia company trained by, i. 482.

Washington, Augustine, father of George, character of, i. 24, 28;
death of, in 1743, i. 28.

Washington, Bushrod, papers and property bequeathed to, by Washington, iii. 539, 540.

Washington, Captain William, division of General Greene led by, at Trenton, ii. 373.

Washington, Charles, Franklin's gold-headed cane bequeathed to, by Washington, iii. 539.

Washington city, lots owned by Washington in at the time of his death, iii. 543.

Washington family in Virginia, early history of, i. 22.

Washington, George, birthplace of, i. 17, 23;
lineage of, i. 18;
early education of, i. 24;
maxims of, in youth, i. 37;
marriage of, i. 287;
stature of (note), i. 306, iii. 591, 597;
dress of, i. 306, iii. 589, 600, 603;
style of living of, before the Revolution, i. 307;
devotion of, i. 337, iii. 112, 602;
table of, i. 616, iii. 585-589;
will of, iii. 535;
estate of, iii. 541;
death of, iii. 556;
funeral of, iii. 558;
fondness of, for field-sports, iii. 584;
toilet of, iii. 587;
strength of arm of—weight of, iii. 593;
frame of, iii. 594;
great size of hands of, iii. 595;
awe inspired by the presence of, iii. 597, 598.

Washington, George A., death of, in 1793—affection of Washington for (note)—kindness of Washington to the widow of (note), iii. 235;
carriage presented to, by Washington (note), iii. 236.

Washington, George Fayette, property bequeathed to, by Washington, iii. 540.

Washington, John and Lawrence, emigrate to Virginia in 1657, i. 20.

Washington, Joseph, the “Defensio pro Populo” of Milton translated by—a friend of the “Commonwealth,” and author of several works—damage done by, to the cause of the Stuarts, i. 20.

Washington, Lawrence Augustine, property bequeathed to, by Washington, iii. 540.

Washington, Lawrence, brother of George, educated in England, i. 24, 25;
in the British attack upon Carthagena in 1741, i. 26;
marriage of, to Miss Fairfax, i. 35;
affection of, for his brother George, i. 25, 43;
a member of the Virginia house of burgesses, i. 61;
attacked by consumption—visit of, to Barbados, in company with his brother George, in 1751, i. 62;
death of, at Mount Vernon, in 1752, i. 64.

Washington, Lawrence, mayor of Northampton in the reign of Henry VIII., i. 19.

Washington, Lund, the general's agent at Mount Vernon—letter of Washington to, in relation to remuneration of his services, i. 765;
instructions of Washington to, in relation to charity and frugality, i. 766.

Washington, Mrs., sickness of the daughter of, i. 375;
death of the daughter of, in 1773, i. 378;
letter of Washington to, respecting his election as commander-in-chief—letters of Washington to, destroyed by (note), i. 539;
invited by her husband to join him at Cam>bridge, i. 765;
mode of travelling of, i. 766;
ball proposed in honor of, i. 767;
arrival of, in the camp at Cambridge, i. 768;
inoculated for the small-pox, in Philadelphia (note), ii. 157;
considerate conduct of Washington toward, iii. 52;
honors paid to, on her way to New York in 1789, iii. 110;
first levee of, iii. 111;
levees of, in Philadelphia, iii. 170;
property left to, by Washington, iii. 535;
resignation of, at the death of her husband, iii. 556;
letter of, to President Adams, in relation to proposed national funeral honors to her husband, iii. 565.

Washington, Samuel, provisions of the will of Washington respecting the heirs of, iii. 538.

Washington, Sir Henry, colonel under Prince Rupert in 1643, i. 19;
defender of Worcester against Cromwell's general, Fairfax, in 1646, i. 20.

Washington, Sir Lawrence and Anne, monument of, in the parish church of Garsdon, i. 19.

Washington, Sir William, brother-in-law of Villiers, duke of Buckingham, i. 19.

Washington, William Augustine, property left to, by Washington, iii. 538.

Washington, William, invitation of, at Charlestown, declined by Washington, iii. 180.

Waterbury, General, gallantry of, in a naval engagement on Lake Champlain, ii. 334.

Watertown, address of James Warren to Washington, on his arrival at, in 1775, i. 583.

Waxhaw, body of republicans surprised and massacred by Tarleton on the banks of the, ii. 676.

Wayne, General Anthony, shabby regimentals of, at Middlebrook, ii. 458;
sent by Washington to annoy the rear of Howe's army—night-attack upon, by the British under General Grey, ii. 514;
court-martial demanded by, ii. 515;
attack led by, at the battle of Germantown, ii. 553;
exploits of, in New Jersey, ii. 598;
capture of Stony Point by, ii. 659;
efforts of, to quell the mutiny of the Pennsylvania troops—picture drawn by, of the sufferings of the army at Morristown (note), ii. 707;

Cornwallis attacked by, at Old Jamestown, ii. 721;

Savannah taken possession of by, iii. 11;
appointed commander-in-chief of the army in the Northwest, iii. 197;
operations of, against the northwestern Indians, iii. 328;
results of his treaty with the Indians in the Northwest, iii. 378.

Weathersfield, conference of Washington with Rochambeau at, ii. 722.

Webb, General, cowardly conduct of, at Fort Edward, i. 250.

Weight of Washington, iii. 593.

Wessington, John de, prior of a convent in 1426, i. 19.

West Indies, American vessels excluded from, iii. 100;
depredations on American vessels in, committed by French cruisers, iii. 466;
complaints of the conduct of Commodore Barney in, iii. 467.

West Point, fortifications at, commenced by Bernard Romans, ii. 127;
headquarters of Washington at—letter of Washington to Doctor Cochran, showing the style of living at (note), ii. 660;
information given to the British by Arnold, respecting, ii. 698;
the military academy at, suggested by Washington, iii. 456.

Wheatley, Phillis, a slave, biographical notice of, ii. 54;
her correspondence with Washington, ii. 55, 56;
poem written by, addressed to Washington, ii. 57.

Whipple, Captain, the schooner Gaspé taken and burned by a party under—threat of Sir James Wallace to hang, i. 381;
vessels placed under the command of, by the assembly of Rhode Island, i. 739.

"Whiskey Insurrection,” language of Washington in relation to the, iii. 305;
history of the, iii. 307-320;
sympathy of Jefferson with those engaged in the, iii. 327.

White, Bishop, present at the opening of the continental Congress, i. 423;
present at Washington's farewell dinner, iii. 471.

Whitemarsh, encampment of Washington near, ii. 559;
efforts of Howe to draw the Americans out of their position at, ii. 568;
retreat of Howe from, to Philadelphia—Washington blamed by his enemies in Congress for not fighting at, ii. 569.

White, Philip, a “pine robber,” killed by the Jersey people, iii. 13.

White Plains, adjournment of the provincial congress of New York to (note), ii. 127;
headquarters of Washington in the neighborhood of, ii. 314;
account of the battle at, ii. 316-319;
losses sustained by the British and Americans at the battle of, ii. 319;
sufferings of the American army after the battle of, ii. 321;
disgraceful conduct of some of Washington's troops at (note), ii. 323.

Wilkes, John, conspicuous part taken by, in favor of the Americans, i. 494;
lord-mayor of London, address of, to the king, on American affairs—biographical notice of (note), i. 604;
his contemptuous treatment of a royal proclamation, i. 611;
speech of, in Parliament, in relation to the British flight from Boston, ii. 86.

Wilkinson, Captain James, sent by Arnold to the relief of the Cedars (note), ii. 161;
interview of, with General Lee, at the moment of his capture, ii. 358;
connection of, with Conway's Cabal, ii. 579.

William and Mary College, chancellorship of, accepted by Washington, iii. 48.

Williams, Colonel Ephraim, surprised by Dieskau, while marching to the relief of Fort Edward—biographical notice of (note), i. 181.

Williams, Otho Holland, with the southern riflemen at the camp at Cambridge, i. 619;
appointed brigadier under Wayne, in 1791, iii. 197.

Williams, second schoolmaster of Washington, i. 35, 45.

Williamsburg, convention at, proposed, to consider a proposition for a continental Congress, i. 395;
resolutions adopted at the convention held at, in 1774, i. 401-405;
convention at, in 1774—eloquent speech of Washington at—delegates to the general Congress appointed at, i. 407;
preparations made at, by the allies, for the siege of Yorktown, ii. 731.

Will of Washington, true copy of (note), iii. 535.

Will's creek, retreat of Washington to, from Great Meadows, in 1754, i. 124;

Indian war-dance at, in Braddock's camp, i. 151;
fatal delay of Braddock at, i. 156.

Wilmington, headquarters of Washington at, ii. 497;
visit of Washington to, on his southern tour, in 1791, iii. 181.

Wilson, James, appointed associate judge of the supreme court in 1789, iii. 122.

Winchester, headquarters of Washington at, in 1755, i. 189;

Fort Loudoun erected by Washington at, i. 214;
irksomeness of Washington's duties at, i. 240;
property owned by Washington in the town of, iii. 543.

Winter hill, Lee's division stationed at, at the siege of Boston, i. 619.

Woedtke, Baron de, commissioners to Canada accompanied by, ii. 145;
intemperate habits of—biographical notice of (note), ii. 165.

Wolcott, Oliver, letter of, to his wife, in relation to the frugal habits of Washington, iii. 170;
letter of, in relation to Washington's declining the presidency for a third term, iii. 450;
letter of Washington to, after his retirement to private life, iii. 481.

Wolfe, Brigadier-General James, at the taking of Louisburg in 1758, i. 260;
reliance of the English people upon, in the expedition against Quebec—character of, as described by Walpole (note)—names of men, afterward distinguished, in the expedition of, against Quebec, i. 293;

Monckton sent by, to occupy Point Levi, i. 294;
unsuccessful attempt of, to storm Montcalm's intrenchments, i. 295;
on a sick-bed concerts with Saunders, a plan for scaling the Heights of Abraham—news of the repulse and subsequent success of, received by Pitt on the same day (note)—presentiment of death upon the mind of, i. 297;
impromptu stanzas composed by, on the eve of the attack—Gray's Elegy quoted by, on his way to the Heights of Abraham, i. 298;
last words and death of, i. 299;
and Montcalm, joint monument erected to the memory of—biographical notice of (note), i. 300.

Woodhull, General, commissioned to drive the live stock to Hempstead, ii. 266;
made a prisoner and brutally treated by Sir James Baird (note), ii. 277.

Woodhull, Reverend Doctor John, reference to manuscript letters of (note)—anecdote respecting (note), ii. 281.

Wooster, David, appointed brigadier-general in the continental army—brief biographical notice of, i. 548;
invited to the neighborhood of New York by the provincial congress (note), i. 582;
directed by Washington to join General Schuyler at Lake Champlain—apprehensions of Washington respecting, i. 710;
patriotic letter of, to Schuyler—refusal of the officers and men under, to sign the articles of war (note), i. 711;
fear or jealousy of, with regard to Arnold, ii. 100;
testimony of Congressional commissioners as to his unfitness for command (note), ii. 147;
death of, at Danbury, ii. 436;
resolution of Congress to erect a monument to the memory of—biographical notice of (note), ii. 437.

Writs of assistance issued in 1761—universal opposition to—speech of James Otis on the subject of, i. 317.

Wyoming massacre, ii. 641.

Y.

- Year of trial, Washington's, ii. 594.

- Yellow fever in Philadelphia, in 1793, iii. 280;

- in the autumn of 1798, iii. 525.

- York, Congress adjourned to, ii. 514.

- Yorke, Sir Joseph, his estimate of General Lee, ii. 358.

- Yorktown, perilous position of Cornwallis at, ii. 730;

- invested by the allies—position of the allies at, ii. 732;

- desperate effort of Cornwallis to escape from, ii. 733;

- patriotism displayed by Governor Nelson at—surrender of Cornwallis at, ii. 734;

- articles of capitulation at (note)—imposing scene of thesurrender at, ii. 735;

- loss sustained by the British at (note), ii. 737;

- measures of Congress on receiving news of the surrender at, ii. 738;

- importance of the surrender at—effect in England of the surrender at, ii. 739.

- Youghiogany, attempt of Washington to descend, in 1754, i. 103;

- Washington left at, sick, by order of General Braddock, i. 159.

- Young, Arthur, seeds and implements sent to Washington by, iii. 51.

THE END.

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Table of Contents

WASHINGTON

- AND THE

AMERICAN REPUBLIC

WASHINGTON

- AND THE

AMERICAN REPUBLIC.

- Benson J. Lossing,

- VOLUME III.

- CONTENTS

- ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOL. III.

WASHINGTON.

CHAPTER I.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER II.

- “UP GOES HUDDY FOR PHILIP WHITE.”

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER III.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER IV.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER VII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER VIII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER IX.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XIII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XVI.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XVII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XVIII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XX.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXI.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXIII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXIV.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXV.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXVI.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXVII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXVIII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXIX.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXX.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXI.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXIII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXIV.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXV.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXVI.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXVII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XXXIX.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XL.

CHAPTER XLI.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XLII.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XLIII.

- WASHINGTON'S CHARACTER.

- FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XLIV.

- WASHINGTON'S HABITS AND PERSONAL APPEARANCE.

- FOOTNOTES:

WASHINGTON MEMORIALS.

ANALYTICAL INDEX.

- A.

- B.

- C.

- D.

- E.

- F.

- G.

- H.

- I.

- J.

- K.

- L.

- M.

- N.

- O.

- P.

- Q.

- R.

- S.

- T.

- U.

- V.

- W.

- Y.

- THE END.

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE