JAMES K. PAULDING and GEORGE WASHINGTON
In times when "logical candidates" for the Presidency of the United States are periodically exploited by rival parties, it is a salutary thing, which can never too often be repeated, to look back to the first filling of the chief magistracy of the country.
No parallel is seen in history to the unanimity of Washington's election, a call which his modest reluctance could not refuse, for there was no other who could serve his country's need. The tribute of a nation was again paid in his unanimous reëlection to a second term, which nothing except his own will determined for the last.
Familiar as is the fame of Washington and of his services to his country and mankind, there is no name in the records of the world which still commands a more universal veneration. Nor is this sentiment diminished, among intelligent people, now that his character and work have been divested of those elements of myth or tradition which formerly enveloped them; rather by the critical process of humanizing is his reputation more endeared to his countrymen and more firmly established in the eyes of the world.
To enter here upon the innumerable details of Washington's presidential labors is impossible; they belong to general history. But among the great events of history the civil and political acts of the man who was first in peace as well as in war stand conspicuous, and in Paulding's narrative and appreciation they are fittingly commemorated.
The convention which framed the United States Constitution met at Philadelphia, and unanimously chose Washington its president. This situation in some measure precluded him from speaking, if he had been so inclined; but his influence was not the less in producing the results which followed. It is highly probable that but for the exertions he made in private, and the vast authority of his character and services, the objects of the convention might not have been obtained. The great talents of Madison, Hamilton, and Jay, exerted in that celebrated work called The Federalist, and the influence of many of the leading men of the different States, aided by the name of Washington, alone, perhaps, secured to the country the great charter of its liberties.
Under the new Constitution a chief magistrate became necessary to administer the government. The eyes of the whole people of the United States were at once directed to Washington, and their united voices called upon him who had led their armies in war, to direct their affairs in peace. His old companions came forth and besought him to leave his retirement once more to serve his country. The leading men of all parties wrote letters to the same purport, and on all hands he was assailed by the warmest, most earnest applications.
His replies are extant, and those who have ever seen them cannot for a moment question the deep reluctance with which he undertook this new and trying service. Both in its external and internal relations, the country was at this time in a most critical state; and the man who accepted the hard task of administering its government might rationally anticipate little of the sweets and all the bitterness of power. He who already possessed the hearts of the people; he who had already gained the most lofty eminence, the noblest of all rewards, the hallowed title of his country's father, and the gratitude of a nation, would risk everything and gain nothing by embarking again on the troubled ocean of political strife, in a vessel whose qualities for the voyage had never been tried. But Washington thought he might be of service to his country, and once more sacrificed his rural happiness and cherished tastes at that shrine where he had often offered up his life and all its enjoyments.
He was unanimously elected President of the United States on March 4, 1789, but owing to some formal or accidental delays this event was not notified to him officially until April 14th following. Referring to this delay he thus expresses himself in a letter to General Knox, who possessed and deserved his friendship to the last moment of his life:
"As to 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 toward the chair of government will be accompanied by feelings not unlike those of a culprit going to the place of execution; so unwilling am I, in the evening of a life consumed in public cares, to quit my peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties, without the competency of political skill, abilities, and inclination which is necessary to manage the helm. I am sensible that I am embarking with the voice of the people, and a good name of my own, on this voyage, and 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, though I may be deserted by all men; for of the consolations to be derived from these, the world cannot deprive me."
Such was the foundation of his modest confidence—firmness and integrity, the true pillars of honest greatness. And these never deserted him. He kept his promise to himself in all times, circumstances, and temptations; and though, on a few rare occasions during the course of a stormy season, in which the hopes, fears, and antipathies of his fellow-citizens were strongly excited, his conduct may have been assailed, his motives were never questioned. None ever doubted his firmness, and the general conviction of his integrity was founded on a rock that could neither be undermined nor overthrown.
His progress from Mount Vernon to New York, where Congress was then sitting, was a succession of the most affecting scenes which the sentiment of a grateful people ever presented to the contemplation of the world. His appearance awakened in the bosoms of all an enthusiasm so much the more glorious because so little characteristic of our countrymen. Men, women, and children poured forth and lined the roads in throngs to see him pass and hail his coming. The windows shone with glistening eyes, watching his passing footsteps; the women wept for joy; the children shouted, "God save Washington!" and the iron hearts of the stout husbandmen yearned with inexpressible affection toward him who had caused them to repose in safety under their own vine and fig-tree. His old companions-in-arms came forth to renovate their honest pride, as well as undying affection, by a sight of their general, and a shake of his hand. The pulse of the nation beat high with exultation, for now, when they saw their ancient pilot once more at the helm, they hoped for a prosperous voyage and a quiet haven in the bosom of prosperity.
His reception at Trenton was peculiarly touching. It was planned by those females and their daughters whose patriotism and sufferings in the cause of liberty were equal to those of their fathers, husbands, sons, and brothers. It was here, when the hopes of the people lay prostrate on the earth, and the eagle of freedom seemed to flap his wings, as if preparing to forsake the world, that Washington performed those prompt and daring acts which, while they revived the drooping spirits of his country, freed, for a time, the matrons of Trenton from the insults and wrongs of an arrogant soldiery. The female heart is no sanctuary for ingratitude; and when Washington arrived at the bridge over the Assumpink, which here flows close to the borders of the city, he met the sweetest reward that, perhaps, ever crowned his virtues.
Over the bridge was thrown an arch of evergreens and flowers bearing this affecting inscription in large letters:
"December 26, 1776.
"The hero who defended the mothers will protect the daughters."
At the other extremity of the bridge were assembled many hundreds of young girls of various ages, arrayed in white, the emblem of truth and innocence, their brows circled with garlands, and baskets of flowers in their hands. Beyond these were disposed the grown-up daughters of the land, clothed and equipped like the others, and behind them the matrons, all of whom remembered the never-to-be-forgotten twenty-sixth of December, 1776. As the good Washington left the bridge, they joined in a chorus, touchingly expressive of his services and their gratitude, strewing, at the same time, flowers as he passed along. That mouth whose muscles of gigantic strength indicated the firmness of his character and the force of his mind, was now observed to quiver with emotion; that eye which looked storms and tempests, enemies and friends, undauntedly in the face, and never quailed in the sight of man, now glistened with tears; and that hand which had not trembled when often life, fame, and the liberty of his country hung on the point of a single moment, now refused its office. His hat dropped from his hand as he drew it across his brow.
His reception everywhere was worthy of his services and of a grateful people. At New York the vessels were adorned with flags, and the river alive with boats gayly decked out in like manner, with bands of music on board; the place of his landing was thronged with crowds of citizens, gathered together to welcome his arrival. The roar of cannon and the shouts of the multitude announced his landing, and he was conducted to his lodging by thousands of grateful hearts, who remembered what he had done for them in the days of their trial.
It had been arranged that a military escort should attend him; but when the officer in command announced his commission, Washington replied, "I require no guard but the affections of the people," and declined their attendance.
At this moment, so calculated to inflate the human heart with vanity, Washington, though grateful for these spontaneous proofs of affectionate veneration, was not elated. In describing the scene in one of his familiar letters, he says: "The display of boats on this occasion with vocal and instrumental music on board, the decorations of the ships, the roar of cannon, and the loud acclamations of the people, as I passed along the wharves, gave me as much pain as pleasure, contemplating the probable reversal of this scene, after all my endeavors to do good." Happily, his anticipations were never realized. Although his policy in relation to the French Revolution, which was as wise as it was happy in its consequences, did not give universal satisfaction, still he remained master of the affections and confidence of the people. The laurels he had won in defence of the liberties of his country continued to flourish on his brow while living, and will grow green on his grave to the end of time.
On April 30, 1789, he took the oath and entered on the office of President of the United States, one of the highest as well as most thankless that could be undertaken by man. The head of this free Government is no idle, empty pageant set up to challenge the admiration and coerce the absolute submission of the people; his duties are arduous and his responsibilities great; he is the first servant, not the master, of the state, and is amenable for his conduct, like the humblest citizen. As the executor of the laws, he is bound to see them obeyed; as the first of our citizens, he is equally bound to set an example of obedience. The oath, "to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States," was administered in the balcony of the old Federal Hall in New York, by the chancellor of the State, and the Bible on which it was sworn is still preserved as a sacred relic.
At the time Washington assumed the high functions of President of the United States, there was ample room for the exertion of all his firmness, integrity, and talents. A new constitution to be administered, without the aid of experience or precedent, by an authority to which the people were strangers; serious and alarming difficulties to be adjusted with England; the Indian nations all along our frontier brandishing their tomahawks and whetting their scalping-knives; war with Mediterranean pirates; the Spaniards denying our right to navigate the Mississippi, and the people of Kentucky threatening a separation from the Union unless that right was successfully asserted by the Government. Other difficulties stared the new President full in the face. Some of the States still declined to accept the new Constitution, and become members of the Confederation; others nearly equally divided on the subject; and a debt of eighty million dollars; to meet all which there was an army of less than a thousand men and an empty treasury.
Here was enough, and more than enough, to call forth all the energies, if not to produce despair in the mind, of an ordinary man. But Washington was not such a man. Conscious of the purity of his purposes, he relied on the protection of that Power which is all purity. His first care was to provide for the civil and judicial administration of the government, by the appointment of men in whose virtue and capacity a long experience had given him confidence. Having done this he took the reins with a firm, steady hand, and commenced the ascent of the rugged steep before him.
The next object that called his attention was the situation of the inland frontier, now exposed to the inroads of the savages, who had not been included in the general pacification, although a proposition to that effect had been made by the British commissioners. Although our Government has always treated with the Indians as independent tribes, it has never placed them on the footing of civilized nations, or admitted any mediation on the part of foreign powers. The United States do not recognize them as parties in civilized warfare; they neither avail themselves of their alliance nor acknowledge them as the auxiliaries of other nations.
A system was devised for the conduct of those singular relations which alone can subsist between people so different in all respects, moral and political. The wisdom of that system has been exemplified in having uniformly been acted upon to this time, and though it may perhaps be questioned as to its abstract principles, it would be perhaps difficult if not impossible to devise a better. Our ancestors came to this country under the sanction of a principle at that time universally acknowledged among civilized nations, and when once here, the first law of nature, self-defence, furnishes their only justification. While weak, they were obliged to defend themselves, and when they became strong they were probably too apt to remember their former sufferings.
The policy of Washington, with regard to these unfortunate people, was successful in quieting, if not conciliating many of the Indian tribes; but others remained refractory and continued their atrocities. After defeating two American armies with great slaughter, they were at length brought to terms by the gallant Wayne, who gave them so severe a beating in a great general action that they sued for peace. This was concluded at Greenville; and the cession of a vast territory not only relieved the frontier from savage inroads, but paved the way for the progress of civilization into a new world of wilderness.
He was equally successful at a subsequent period in his negotiations with Spain. His high character for veracity and honor gave him singular advantages in his foreign intercourse. He proceeded in a straightforward, open manner, stated what was wanted, and what would be given in return; relied on justice, and enforced its claims with the arguments of truth. He disdained to purchase advantages by corruption, or to deceive by insincerity. As in private, so in public life, he proceeded inflexibly upon the noble maxim, whose truth is every day verified, that "Honesty is the best policy." The conviction of a man's integrity gives him far greater advantages in his intercourse with the world than he can ever gain by hypocrisy and falsehood. The right of navigating the Mississippi was finally conceded by Spain.
The settlement of the controversies growing out of the treaty with England proved even more difficult than those with Spain. The wounds inflicted on both nations by a war of so many years were healed, but the scars remained, to remind the one of what it had suffered, the other of what it had lost. Time and mutual good offices were necessary to allay that spirit which had been excited on one hand by injuries, on the other by successful resistance; and time indeed had passed away, but it had left behind it neither forgiveness nor oblivion. It was accompanied on one hand by new provocations, on the other by additional remonstrances and renewed indignation. Negotiations continued for a long while, without any result but mortification and impatience on the part of the people of the United States; and it was not until the French Revolution threatened the existence of all the established governments of Europe, and England among the rest, that a treaty was concluded, which brought with it an adjustment of the principal points that had so long embroiled the two nations and fostered a spirit of increasing hostility. The most vexing question of all however—that of the right of entering our ships and impressing seamen—was left unsettled, and it became obvious that it would never be adjusted except on the principle of the right of the strongest. About the same time peace was concluded between the United States and the Emperor of Morocco, and thus, for a while, our commerce remained unmolested on that famous sea where, some years afterward, our gallant navy laid the foundation of its present and future glories.
It is not my design to enter minutely into the principles or conduct of the two great parties, which, from the period of the adoption of the Constitution down to the present time, have been struggling for ascendency in the Government of the United States. My limits will not permit me, if I wished; but if they did, I should decline the task. My youthful readers will know and feel their excitement soon enough, perhaps too soon; and I wish not to become instrumental in implanting in their tender minds the seeds of social and political antipathies. I am attempting to picture a great and virtuous man; to exhibit a noble moral example for the imitation of the children of my country. My business is with the actions of Washington, not with the imputations of his enemies or the struggles of ambitious politicians. Posterity has placed him far above such puny trifles and triflers, and I will not assist, however humbly, in reviving imputations which have long since sunk into oblivion or insignificance under the weight of his mighty name.
The French Revolution, which set the Old World in a blaze, but for the wisdom and firmness of Washington would have involved the United States in the labyrinth of European policy. He it was that prevented their becoming parties in that series of tremendous wars which desolated some of the fairest portions of the earth; caused the rivers to run red with blood; overturned and erected thrones; converted kings into the playthings of fortune; and ended in the creation of a mighty phantom, which, after being the scourge and terror of the world, vanished from our sight on a desolate rock of the ocean.
The people of the United States had continued to cherish a strong feeling of gratitude for the good offices of France during their struggle for independence; and in addition to this, their sympathies were deeply engaged in behalf of a contest so similar in many respects to their own. The institution of the French Republic was hailed with an enthusiasm equal to that they felt on the establishment of their own liberties; and, but for the firm and steady hand of Washington, they would have taken the bridle between their teeth and run headlong into the vortex of European revolution.
Washington issued his famous Proclamation of Neutrality, from which Mr. Genet, the minister of the French Republic, threatened to appeal to the people, a measure understood to mean nothing less than revolution. From that moment the people began to rally around their beloved chief, like children who will not allow their father to be insulted, although they themselves may think him wrong. They sanctioned the proclamation, and time has ratified their decision. It is believed there is not a rational American who does not now feel that the course of Washington was founded in consummate wisdom, deep feeling, and eternal justice.
Having been twice unanimously elected to the highest office in the gift of men; having served his country faithfully eight years in war and eight in peace, having settled the government on a permanent basis, established a series of precedents for the imitation of his successors, and seeing the United States now resting happily in the lap of repose and prosperity; having fulfilled all and more than they had a right to ask of him, and consummated all his public duties, Washington now signified his intention of declining a reëlection. During the arduous services of the preceding term, he had been obliged to retire for a while to the repose of Mount Vernon for the reëstablishment of his health, and he now resolved to relieve himself finally from all the duties and cares of public life. He had earned this privilege by a whole life of arduous patriotism, and without doubt wished to close his public career by one more act of moderation, as a guide to those who might come after him. He believed eight years to be a sufficient term of service in the office of President for any one single man, and determined to establish the precedent by setting the example himself.
Feeling on this occasion like a father about to take a final leave of his children, and give them his parting blessing, Washington, at the moment of announcing his intention of retiring from the world, addressed to the people of the United States his last memorable words. These were conveyed in a letter to his "friends and fellow-citizens," fraught with lessons of virtue and patriotism, adorned by the most touching simplicity, the most mature wisdom, the most affectionate and endearing earnestness of paternal solicitude. He was now about to withdraw his long and salutary guardianship from his young and vigorous country, his only offspring, and he left her the noblest legacy in his power, the priceless riches of his precepts and example.
"In looking forward," he says, "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, or still more for the steadfast confidence with which it has supported me, and for the opportunities thence enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable attachment by services, useful and persevering, though in usefulness unequal to my zeal.
"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 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 solicitude for your welfare, which cannot end but with my life, and the apprehension of danger natural to such 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 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 motive to bias his counsel.
"Interwoven as is the love of liberty with every ligament of your hearts, no recommendation of mine is necessary to fortify the attachment.
"The unity of government, which constitutes you one people, is also now dear to you. It is justly so; for it is the main pillar in the edifice of your real independence, the support of your tranquillity at home and your peace abroad; of your prosperity, of that 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 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 may be in any event abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties that now link together the various parts."
He then proceeds to caution his fellow-citizens against those geographical distinctions of "North," "South," "East," and "West," which, by fostering ideas of separate interests and character, are calculated to weaken the bonds of our union, and to create prejudices, if not antipathies, dangerous to its existence. He shows, by a simple reference to the great paramount interests of each of the different sections, that they are inseparably intertwined in one common bond; that they are mutually dependent on each other; and that they cannot be rent asunder without deeply wounding our prosperity at home, our character and influence abroad, laying the foundation for perpetual broils among ourselves, and creating a necessity for great standing armies, themselves the most fatal enemies to the liberties of mankind.
He earnestly recommends implicit obedience to the laws of the land, as one of the great duties enjoined by the fundamental maxims of liberty. "The basis of our political system," he says, "is the right of the people to make and 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 right of the people to establish government presupposes the duty of every individual to obey the established government."
He denounces "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," as destructive to this fundamental principle and of fatal tendency. He cautions his countrymen against the extreme excitements of party spirit; the factious opposition and pernicious excesses to which they inevitably tend, until by degrees they 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 his disposition to the purposes of his own elevation, on the ruins of public liberty.
He warns those who are to administer the government after him, "to confine themselves within their respective constitutional spheres, refraining, 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, real despotism."
He inculcates, with the most earnest eloquence, a regard to religion and morality.
"Of all the dispositions and habits," he says, "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 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 be simply added, 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 attained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to a refined education, or minds of peculiar cast, reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in the exclusion of religious principles."
He recommends the general diffusion of knowledge among all classes of the people. "Promote, then," he says, "as an object of primary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure of government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened."
He recommends the practice of justice and good faith, and the cultivation of the relations of peace with all mankind, as not only enforced by the obligations of religion and morality, but by all the maxims of sound policy. For the purpose of a successful pursuit of this great object, he cautions his fellow-citizens against the indulgence of undue partiality or prejudice in favor or against any nation whatever, as leading to weak sacrifices on one hand, senseless hostility on the other.
Most emphatically does he warn them against the wiles of foreign influence, the fatal enemy of all the ancient republics. He enjoins a watchful jealousy of all equally impartial, otherwise it may only lead to the suspicion of visionary dangers on one hand and wilful blindness on the other.
Then, after recommending a total abstinence from all political alliances with the nations of Europe; a due regard to the national faith toward public creditors; suitable establishments for the defence of the country, that we may not be tempted to rely on foreign aid, and which will never be afforded, in all probability without the price of great sacrifices on the part of the nation depending on the hollow friendship of jealous rivals, he concludes this admirable address, which ought to be one of the early lessons of every youth of our country, in the following affecting words:
"Though in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of international 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 of which they may tend. I shall always carry with me the hope that my country will never cease to view them with indulgence, and that after forty-five years of a 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 all things, and actuated by that fervent love toward it which is so natural to a man who views it as the native soil of himself and his progenitors for several generations, I anticipate with pleasing expectations 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."
On March 4, 1797, he bade a last farewell to public life. Those who have read in history the struggles of ambitious men for power, and have seen them in every age and country involving whole nations in the horrors of civil strife, only for the worthless privilege of choosing a master, will do well to mark the conduct of Washington on this occasion. He waited only in Philadelphia to congratulate his successor and pay respect to the choice of the people in the person of Mr. Adams. He entered the Senate chamber as a private citizen, and, while every eye glistened at thus seeing him, perhaps for the last time, grasped the hand of the new President, wished that his administration might prove as happy for himself as for his country, and, bowing to the assemblage, retired unattended as he came.
As he was hailed with blessings on entering, so was he greeted with blessings when he quitted forever, the Presidential chair. He came from his retirement at Mount Vernon accompanied by joyful acclamations of welcome, and he was followed thither by the love and veneration of millions of grateful people. Blessed, and thrice blessed, is he who closes a life of honest fame in such a dignified and happy repose; fortunate the nation that can boast of such an example, and still more fortunate the children who can call him "Father of their Country."