"First. In a matter so essential to the well-being of society as the prosperity of a newly-inst.i.tuted government, a citizen of so much consequence as yourself to its success has no option but to lend his services if called for. Permit me to say it would be inglorious, in such a situation, not to hazard the glory, however great, which he might have previously acquired.
"Secondly. Your signature to the proposed system pledges your judgment for its being such a one as, upon the whole, was worthy of the public approbation. If it should miscarry (as men commonly decide from success or the want of it), the blame will, in all probability, be laid on the system itself. And the framers of it will have to encounter the disrepute of having brought about a revolution in government without subst.i.tuting anything that was worthy of the effort; they pulled down one utopia, it will be said, to build up another. This view of the subject, if I mistake not, my dear sir, will suggest to your mind greater hazard to that fame which must be, and ought to be, dear to you, in refusing your future aid to the system than in affording it. I will only add that in my estimate of the matter that aid is indispensable.
"I have taken the liberty to express these sentiments and to lay before you my view of the subject. I doubt not the considerations mentioned have fully occurred to you, and I trust they will finally produce in your mind the same result which exists in mine. I flatter myself the frankness with which I have delivered myself will not be displeasing to you. It has been prompted by motives which you would not disapprove."
In answer to this letter, Washington expressed himself without reserve.
"In acknowledging," said he, "the receipt of your candid and kind letter by the last post, little more is inc.u.mbent on me than to thank you sincerely for the frankness with which you communicated your sentiments, and to a.s.sure you that the same manly tone of intercourse will always be more than barely welcome--indeed, it will be highly acceptable to me.
"I am particularly glad, in the present instance, that you have dealt thus freely and like a friend. Although I could not help observing, from several publications and letters, that my name had been sometimes spoken of, and that it was possible the contingency which is the subject of your letter might happen, yet I thought it best to maintain a guarded silence, and to lack the counsel of my best friends (which I certainly hold in the highest estimation), rather than to hazard an imputation unfriendly to the delicacy of my feelings. For, situated as I am, I could hardly bring the question into the slightest discussion, or ask an opinion even in the most confidential manner, without betraying, in my judgment, some impropriety of conduct, or without feeling an apprehension that a premature display of anxiety might be construed into a vainglorious desire of pushing myself into notice as a candidate. Now, if I am not grossly deceived in myself, I should unfeignedly rejoice, in case the electors, by giving their votes in favor of some other person, would save me from the dreadful dilemma of being forced to accept or refuse. If that may not be, I am, in the next place, earnestly desirous of searching out the truth, and of knowing whether there does not exist a probability that the government would be just as happily and effectually carried into execution without my aid as with it. I am truly solicitous to obtain all the previous information which the circ.u.mstances will afford, and to determine (when the determination can with propriety be no longer postponed), according to the principles of right reason and the dictates of a clear conscience, without too great a reference to the unforeseen consequences which may affect my person or reputation. Until that period, I may fairly hold myself open to conviction, though I allow your sentiments to have weight in them, and I shall not pa.s.s by your arguments without giving them as dispa.s.sionate a consideration as I can possibly bestow upon them.
"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. You will, I am well a.s.sured, believe the a.s.sertion (though I have little expectation it would gain credit from those who are less acquainted with me), that if I should receive the appointment, and should be prevailed upon to accept it, the acceptance would be attended with more diffidence and reluctance than ever I experienced before in my life. It would be, however, with a fixed and sole determination of lending whatever a.s.sistance might be in my power to promote the public weal, in hopes that at a convenient and an early period, my services might be dispensed with, and that I might be permitted once more to retire--to pa.s.s an unclouded evening, after the stormy day of life, in the bosom of domestic tranquility."
This correspondence was thus closed by Hamilton: "I feel a conviction that you will finally see your acceptance to be indispensable. It is no compliment to say that no other man can sufficiently unite the public opinion, or can give the requisite weight to the office, in the commencement of the government. These considerations appear to me of themselves decisive. I am not sure that your refusal would not throw everything into confusion. I am sure that it would have the worst effect imaginable.
"Indeed, as I hinted in a former letter, I think circ.u.mstances leave no option."
Although this correspondence does not appear to have absolutely decided Washington on the part he should embrace, it could not have been without its influence on his judgment, nor have failed to dispose him to yield to the wish of his country. "I would willingly," said he, to his estimable friend, General Lincoln, who had also pressed the subject on him, "pa.s.s over in silence that part of your letter in which you mention the persons who are candidates for the two first offices in the executive, if I did not fear the omission might seem to betray a want of confidence. Motives of delicacy have prevented me hitherto from conversing or writing on this subject, whenever I could avoid it with decency. I may, however, with great sincerity, and I believe without offending against modesty or propriety, say to you that I most heartily wish the choice to which you allude might not fall upon me; and that if it should, I must reserve to myself the right of making up my final decision at the last moment, when it can be brought into one view and when the expediency or inexpediency of a refusal can be more judiciously determined than at present. But be a.s.sured, my dear sir, if from any inducement I shall be persuaded ultimately to accept, it will not be (so far as I know my own heart) from any of a private or personal nature.
Every personal consideration conspires to rivet me (if I may use the expression) to retirement. At my time of life, and under my circ.u.mstances, nothing in this world can ever draw me from it, unless it be a conviction that the partiality of my countrymen had made my services absolutely necessary, joined to a fear that my refusal might induce a belief that I preferred the conservation of my own reputation and private ease to the good of my country. After all, if I should conceive myself in a manner constrained to accept, I call Heaven to witness that this very act would be the greatest sacrifice of my personal feelings and wishes that ever I have been called upon to make.
It would be to forego repose and domestic enjoyment for trouble--perhaps for public obloquy; for I should consider myself as entering upon an unexplored field, enveloped on every side with clouds and darkness.
"From this embarra.s.sing situation I had naturally supposed that my declarations at the close of the war would have saved me, and that my sincere intentions, then publicly made known, would have effectually precluded me forever afterward from being looked upon as a candidate for any office. This hope, as a last anchor of worldly happiness in old age, I had still carefully preserved, until the public papers and private letters from my correspondents in almost every quarter taught me to apprehend that I might soon be obliged to answer the question whether I would go again into public life or not."
"I can say little or nothing new," said he in a letter to Lafayette, "in consequence of the repet.i.tion 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 magnify 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 other.
Should circ.u.mstances render it, in a manner, inevitably necessary to be in the affirmative, be a.s.sured, my dear sir, I shall a.s.sume 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 embarra.s.sments 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 cooperate in establishing those four great and essential pillars of public felicity."
After the electors had been chosen, and before the electoral colleges met, Washington was a.s.sailed with the usual importunities of office-seekers.
As marking the frame of mind with which he came into the government, the following extract is given from one of the many letters written to persons whose pretensions he was disposed to favor. "Should it become absolutely necessary for me to occupy the station in which your letter presupposes me, I have determined to go into it perfectly free from all engagements of every nature whatsoever. A conduct in conformity to this resolution would enable me, in balancing the various pretensions of different candidates for appointments, to act with a sole reference to justice and the public good. This is, in substance, the answer that I have given to all applications (and they are not few) which have already been made. Among the places sought after in these applications, I must not conceal that the office to which you particularly allude is comprehended. This fact I tell you merely as matter of information.
My general manner of thinking, as to the propriety of holding myself totally disengaged, will apologize for my not enlarging further on the subject.
"Though I am sensible that the public suffrage which places a man in office should prevent him from being swayed, in the execution of it, by his private inclinations, yet he may a.s.suredly, without violating his duty, be indulged in the continuance of his former attachments."
Although the time appointed for the new government to commence its operations was the 4th of March, 1789, the members of Congress were so dilatory in their attendance that a House of Representatives was not formed till the 1st nor a Senate till the 6th of April.
When at length the votes for President and Vice-President were opened and counted in the Senate, it was found that Washington was unanimously elected President, and that the second number of votes was given to John Adams. George Washington and John Adams were therefore declared to be duly elected President and Vice-President of the United States, to serve for four years from the 4th of March, 1789.
In a letter to General Knox, just before this announcement, Washington thus adverts to the delay in forming a quorum of Congress: "I feel for those members of the new Congress, who, hitherto, have given an unavailing attendance at the theater of action. For myself, the delay 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 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 circ.u.mstances, the world cannot deprive me." There is every reason to believe that the diffidence expressed in the above was sincere. It is perfectly consistent with the unaffected modesty of Washington"s character.
CHAPTER II.
THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED. 1789.
Washington"s election was announced to him by a special messenger from Congress, on the 14th of April, 1789. His acceptance of it, and his expressions of grat.i.tude for this fresh proof of the esteem and confidence of his country, were connected with declarations of diffidence in himself. "I wish," he said, "that there may not be reason for regretting the choice--for, indeed, all I can promise is to accomplish that which can be done by an honest zeal."
As the public business required the immediate attendance of the President at the seat of government, he hastened his departure, and, on the second day after receiving notice of his appointment, took leave of Mount Vernon.
In an entry made by himself in his diary, the feelings inspired by an occasion so affecting to his mind are thus described: "About 10 o"clock I bade adieu to Mount Vernon, to private life, and to domestic felicity, and, with a mind oppressed with more anxious and painful sensations than I have words to express, set out for New York in company with Mr.
Thomson and Colonel Humphreys, with the best dispositions to render service to my country in obedience to its call, but with less hope of answering its expectations."
"The President and his lady," says Mr. Custis, "bid adieu with extreme regret to the tranquil and happy shades where a few years of repose had, in a great measure, effaced the effects of the toils and anxieties of war; where little Eden had bloomed and nourished under their fostering hands and where a numerous circle of friends and relatives would sensibly feel the privation of their departure. They departed and hastened to where duty called the man of his country."
Soon after leaving Mount Vernon he was met by a cavalcade of gentlemen, who escorted him to Alexandria, where a public dinner had been prepared to which he was invited. Arrived at that place, he was greeted by a public address, to which he made an appropriate reply. The address differs from others, inasmuch as it came from his personal friends and neighbors, and gives some interesting personal details. The tenor of the following pa.s.sage must have sensibly touched the feelings of Washington:
"Not to extol your glory as a soldier; not to pour forth our grat.i.tude for past services; not to acknowledge the justice of the unexampled honor which has been conferred upon you by the spontaneous and unanimous suffrages of 3,000,000 of freemen, in your election to the supreme magistracy; nor to admire the patriotism which directs your conduct, do your neighbors and friends now address you. Themes less splendid, but more endearing, impress our minds. The first and best of citizens must leave us; our aged must lose their ornament; our youth their model; our agriculture its improver; our commerce its friend; our infant academy its protector; our poor their benefactor; and the interior navigation of the Potomac (an event replete with the most extensive utility, already, by your unremitted exertions, brought into partial use) its inst.i.tutor and promoter."
Washington left Alexandria on the afternoon of the same day and attended by his neighbors proceeded to Georgetown, where he was received by a number of citizens of Maryland. His journey thenceforth to the seat of government was a continual triumph. Military escorts, cavalcades of citizens, and crowds of people of all ages and both s.e.xes awaited his arrival at each town. We may imagine the enthusiastic shouts and welcomes with which he was received by the people.
On his approach to Philadelphia he was met by Governor Mifflin, Judge Peters, and a military escort, headed by General St. Clair, and followed by the usual cavalcade of gentlemen. Washington was mounted on a splendid white horse. The procession pa.s.sed into the city through triumphal arches adorned with wreaths of flowers and laurel, attended by an immense crowd of people. The day was a public festival, and in the evening an illumination and a display of fireworks testified the enthusiasm of the occasion. The next day, at Trenton, he was welcomed in a manner as new as it was pleasing. In addition to the usual demonstrations of respect and attachment which were given by the discharge of cannon, by military corps, and by private persons of distinction, the gentler s.e.x prepared in their own taste a tribute of applause indicative of the grateful recollection in which they held their deliverance twelve years before from a formidable enemy. On the bridge over the creek which pa.s.ses through the town was erected a triumphal arch highly ornamented with laurels and flowers and supported by thirteen pillars, each entwined with wreaths of evergreen. On the front arch was inscribed in large gilt letters, "The defender of the mothers will be the protector of the daughters."
On the center of the arch, above the inscription, was a dome or cupola of flowers and evergreens, encircling the dates of two memorable events which were peculiarly interesting to New Jersey. The first was the battle of Trenton, and the second the bold and judicious stand made by the American troops at the same creek, by which the progress of the British army was arrested on the evening preceding the battle of Princeton.
At this place he was met by a party of matrons leading their daughters, dressed in white, who carried baskets of flowers in their hands and sang, with exquisite sweetness, an ode of two stanzas, composed for the occasion.
At New Brunswick he was joined by the Governor of New Jersey, who accompanied him to Elizabethtown Point. A committee of Congress received him on the road and conducted him with military parade to the Point, where he took leave of the Governor and other gentlemen of New Jersey and embarked for New York in an elegant barge of thirteen oars, manned by thirteen branch pilots, prepared for the purpose by the citizens of New York.
"The display of boats," says Washington, in his private journal, "which attended and joined on this occasion, some with vocal and others with instrumental music, on board, the decorations of the ships, the roar of cannon, and the loud acclamations of the people, which rent the sky as I pa.s.sed along the wharves, filled my mind with sensations as painful (contemplating the reverse of this scene, which may be the case after all my labors to do good) as they were pleasing."
At the stairs on Murray"s wharf, which had been prepared and ornamented for the purpose, he was received by Governor Clinton, of New York, and conducted with military honors, through an immense concourse of people, to the apartments provided for him. These were attended by all who were in office and by many private citizens of distinction, who pressed around him to offer their congratulations and to express the joy which glowed in their bosoms at seeing the man in whom all confided at the head of the American empire. This day of extravagant joy was succeeded by a splendid illumination.
Mr. Custis, writing of the journey from Mount Vernon to New York, and of Washington"s mode of living at the seat of government, says:
"The august spectacle at the bridge of Trenton brought tears to the eyes of the chief, and forms one of the most brilliant recollections of the age of Washington.
"Arrived at the seat of the Federal government, the President and Mrs. Washington formed their establishment upon a scale that, while it partook of all the attributes of our republican inst.i.tutions, possessed at the same time that degree of dignity and regard for appearances so necessary to give our infant Republic respect in the eyes of the world.
The house was handsomely furnished; the equipages neat, with horses of the first order; the servants wore the family liveries, and, with the exception of a steward and housekeeper, the whole establishment differed but little from that of a private gentleman. On Tuesdays, from 3 to 4 o"clock, the President received the foreign amba.s.sadors and strangers who wished to be introduced to him. On these occasions, and when opening the sessions of Congress, the President wore a dress sword. His personal apparel was always remarkable for its being old-fashioned and exceedingly plain and neat. On Thursdays were the congressional dinners and on Friday nights Mrs. Washington"s drawing-room. The company usually a.s.sembled about 7 and rarely stayed exceeding 10 o"clock. The ladies were seated, and the President pa.s.sed around the circle, paying his compliments to each. At the drawing-rooms Mrs. Morris always sat at the right of the lady president, and at all the dinners, public or private, at which Robert Morris was a guest, that venerable man was placed at the right of Mrs. Washington.
"On the great national festivals of the 4th of July and 22d of February, the sages of the Revolutionary Congress and the officers of the Revolutionary army renewed their acquaintance with Mrs. Washington; many and kindly greetings took place with many a recollection of the days of trial. The Cincinnati, after paying their respects to their chief, were seen to file off toward the parlor, where Lady Washington was in waiting to receive them, and where Wayne, and Mifflin, and d.i.c.kinson, and Stewart, and Moylan, and Hartley, and a host of veterans were cordially welcomed as old friends, and where many an interesting reminiscence was called up, of the headquarters and the "times of the Revolution."
"On Sundays, unless the weather was uncommonly severe, the President and Mrs. Washington attended divine service at Christ Church, and in the evening the President read to Mrs. Washington, in her chamber, a sermon or some portion from the sacred writings. No visitors, with the exception of Mr. Speaker Trumbull, were admitted to the presidoliad on Sundays.
"There was one description of visitors, however, to be found about the first President"s mansion on all days. The old soldiers repaired, as they said, to headquarters just to inquire after the health of his Excellency and Lady Washington. They knew his Excellency was, of course, much engaged, but they would like to see the good lady, one had been a soldier of the life guard, another had been on duty when the British threatened to surprise the headquarters, a third had witnessed that terrible fellow, Cornwallis, surrender his sword; each one had some touching appeal with which to introduce himself to the peaceful headquarters of the presidoliad. All were "kindly bid to stay," were conducted to the steward"s apartments, and refreshments set before them, and, after receiving some little token from the lady, with her best wishes for the health and happiness of an old soldier, they went their ways, while blessings upon their revered commander and the good Lady Washington were uttered by many a war worn veteran of the Revolution."
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The simple mode of life above described did not save Washington from public censure by those who are always ready to carp at the doings of distinguished men, however unexceptionable their conduct may be. Free levees were said to savor of an affectation of royal state. In a letter to his friend, Dr. Stewart, Washington thus puts to silence this calumny, with his usual good sense and unanswerable argument:
"Before the custom was established which now accommodates foreign characters, strangers, and others, who, from motives of curiosity, respect to the chief magistrate, or any other cause, are induced to call upon me, I was unable to attend to any business whatsoever. For gentlemen, consulting their own convenience rather than mine, were calling from the time I rose from breakfast--often before--until I sat down to dinner. This, as I resolved not to neglect my public duties, reduced me to the choice of one of these alternatives--either to refuse them altogether or to appropriate a time for the reception of them. The first would, I well knew, be disgusting to many; the latter I expected would undergo animadversion from those who would find fault with or without cause. To please everybody was impossible. I therefore adopted that line of conduct which combined public advantage with private convenience, and which, in my judgment, was unexceptionable in itself.
"These visits are optional. They are made without invitation. Between the hours of 3 and 4 every Tuesday I am prepared to receive them.
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, and without ceremony. At their first entrance they salute me and I them, and as many as I can talk to I do. What pomp there is in all this I am unable to discover. Perhaps it consists in not sitting. To this two reasons are opposed: first, it is unusual; secondly (which is a more substantial one); because I have no room large enough to contain a third of the chairs which would be sufficient to admit it. If it is supposed that ostentation or the fashions of courts (which by the by, I believe originate oftener in convenience, not to say necessity, than is generally imagined) gave rise to this custom, I will boldly affirm that no supposition was ever more erroneous, for were I to indulge my inclinations every moment that I could withdraw from the fatigues of my station should be spent in retirement. That they are not proceeds from the sense I entertain of the propriety of giving to everyone as free access as consists with that respect which is due to the chair of government; and that respect, I conceive, is neither to be acquired or preserved but by maintaining a just medium between too much state and too great familiarity.
"Similar to the above, but of a more familiar and sociable kind, are the visits every Friday afternoon to Mrs. Washington, where I always am.
These public meetings, and a dinner once a week to as many as my table will hold, with the references to and from the different departments of state and other communications with all parts of the Union, is as much if not more than I am able to undergo; for I have already had within less than a year two severe attacks--the last worse than the first; a third, it is more than probable, will put me to sleep with my fathers--at what distance this may be I know not."
The inauguration of Washington deserves particular notice, inasmuch as in its chief outlines it has served for the precedent to all succeeding inaugurations. Congress had determined that the ceremony of taking the oath of office should be performed in public and in the open air. It took place on the 30th of April, 1789. In the morning religious services were performed in all the churches of the city. At 12 o"clock a procession was formed at the residence of the President, consisting of a military escort and the committees of Congress and heads of departments in carriages, followed by Washington alone in a carriage, and his aid-de-camp, Colonel Humphreys, and secretary, Mr. Lear, in another carriage, with the foreign ministers and citizens bringing up the rear.