The rebellion thus suppressed was productive of the most salutary result. The middle classes, terrified at the exaggeration of their own doctrines, and at the risk of exciting the mob as supporters, rallied universally to the support of Congress.

Jealousy of those above was counterbalanced by fear of those below; and the majority of the State Legislatures was brought to coincide with the views of the Federal statesmen. Convinced by late experience of the necessity of an established and general government, even for purposes of domestic security, the hitherto refractory States named, without hesitation, their delegates to the appointed convention for forming a constitution. Rhode Island alone refused.

6. Footnote: Sparks, "Writings of Washington."

7. Footnote: George Ticknor Curtis, "History of the Constitution of the United States."

* * * * *

PART VI.



WASHINGTON AS PRESIDENT AND IN RETIREMENT.



CHAPTER I.

THE ELECTION. 1789.

As soon as it was ascertained that the new form of government had received the sanction of the people and would go into immediate operation, all eyes were at once turned to Washington as the first President of the United States. During the war he had, in fact, directed the course of public affairs. His suggestions had been almost invariably followed by Congress. His recommendations had influenced the action of the different States. His practical administrative abilities were known to all. He alone possessed the confidence of the people to that degree which was necessary to carry the constitution into vigorous effect at the outset and to defend it against its secret as well as its open enemies. But it was by no means certain that he would accept the office. By all who knew him, fears were entertained that his preference for private life would prevail over the wishes of the public, and soon after the adoption of the constitution was ascertained, his correspondents began to press him on a point which was believed essential to the completion of the great work on which the grandeur and happiness of America was supposed to depend. "We cannot," said Mr. Johnson, a man of great political eminence in Maryland, "do without you; and I, and thousands more, can explain to anybody but yourself why we cannot do without you." "I have ever thought," said Gouverneur Morris, "and have ever said, that you must be President; no other man can fill that office. No other man can draw forth the abilities of our country into the various departments of civil life. You alone can awe the insolence of opposing factions and the greater insolence of assuming adherents. I say nothing of foreign powers nor of their ministers. With these last you will have some plague. As to your feelings on this occasion they are, I know, both deep and affecting: you embark property most precious on a most tempestuous ocean; for, as you possess the highest reputation, so you expose it to the perilous chance of popular opinion. On the other hand, you will, I firmly expect, enjoy the inexpressible felicity of contributing to the happiness of all your countrymen. You will become the father of more than three millions of children; and while your bosom glows with parental tenderness, in theirs or at least in a majority of them, you will excite the duteous sentiments of filial affection. This, I repeat it, is what I firmly expect; and my views are not directed by that enthusiasm which your public character has impressed on the public mind. Enthusiasm is generally short-sighted and too often blind. I form my conclusions from those talents and virtues which the world believes and which your friends know you possess."

In a letter detailing the arrangements which were making for the introduction of the new government, Col. Henry Lee proceeded thus to speak of the presidency of the United States. "The solemnity of the moment and its application to yourself have fixed my mind in contemplations of a public and a personal nature, and I feel an involuntary impulse which I cannot resist, to communicate without reserve to you some of the reflections which the hour has produced. Solicitous for our common happiness as a people, and convicted 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. It may be wrong, but I cannot suppress, in my wishes for national felicity, a due regard for your personal fame and content.

"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 before gave to the lot of one man. It is my anxious hope, it is my belief, that this will be the case; but all things are uncertain, and perhaps nothing more so than political events." He then proceeded to state his apprehensions that the government might sink under the activity hostility of its foes, and in particular the fears which he entertained from the circular letter of New York, around which the minorities in the several States might be expected to rally. Before concluding his letter, Colonel Lee said, "Without you the government can have but little chance of success; and the people of that happiness which its prosperity must yield."

In reply to this letter Washington said: "Your observations on the solemnity of the crisis and its application to myself bring before me subjects of the most momentous and interesting nature. In our endeavors to establish a new general government the contest, nationally considered, seems not to have been so much for glory as existence. It was for a long time doubtful whether we were to survive as an independent Republic or decline from our federal dignity into insignificant and wretched fragments of empire. The adoption of the constitution so extensively and with so liberal an acquiescence on the part of the minorities in general, promised the former; but lately the circular letter of New York has manifested, in my apprehension, an unfavorable if not an insidious tendency to a contrary policy. I still hope for the best, but before you mentioned it I could not help fearing it would serve as a standard to which the disaffected might resort. It is now evidently the part of all honest men who are friends to the new constitution, to endeavor to give it a chance to disclose its merits and defects, by carrying it fairly into effect in the first instance.

"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. In the first place, the event to which you allude may never happen; among other reasons, because, if the partiality of my fellow- citizens conceive it to be a means by which the sinews of the new government would be strengthened, it will of consequence be obnoxious to those who are in opposition to it, many of whom unquestionably will be placed among the electors.

"This consideration alone would supersede the expediency of announcing any definite and irrevocable resolution. 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 to be uninfluenced by sinister motives, in case any circumstance should render a deviation from the line of conduct I had prescribed for myself indispensable. Should the contingency you suggest take place, and (for argument sake alone, let me say) 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 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, further, would there not even be some apparent foundation for the two former charges? Now, justice to myself, and tranquility 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 must 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, when-so-ever 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 be 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 will be no one of these motives, nor the hazard to which my former reputation might be exposed, or 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 full as satisfactorily as myself. To say more would be indiscreet, as a disclosure of a refusal beforehand might incur the application of the fable in which the fox is represented as undervaluing the grapes he could not reach. You will perceive, my dear sir, by what is here observed (and which you will be pleased to consider in the light of a confidential communication), that my inclinations will dispose and decide me to remain as I am, unless a clear and insurmountable conviction should be impressed on my mind, that some very disagreeable consequences must in all human probability result from the indulgence of my wishes."

About the same time Colonel Hamilton concluded a letter on miscellaneous subjects with the following observations. "I take it for granted, sir, you have concluded to comply with what will, no doubt, be the general call of your country in relation to the new government. You will permit me to say that it is indispensable you should lend yourself to its first operations. It is to little purpose to have introduced a system, if the weightiest influence is not given to its firm establishment in the outset."

"On the delicate subject," said Washington in reply, "with which you conclude your letter, I can say nothing; because the event alluded to may never happen; and because, in case it should occur, it would be a point of prudence to defer forming one's ultimate and irrevocable decision so long as new data might be afforded for one to act with the greater wisdom and propriety. I would not wish to conceal my prevailing sentiment from you. For you know me well enough, my good sir, to be persuaded that I am not guilty of affectation, when I tell you it is my great and sole desire to live and die in peace and retirement on my own farm. Were it even indispensable a different line of conduct should be adopted, while you and some others who are acquainted with my heart would acquit, the world and posterity might probably accuse me of inconsistency and ambition. Still, I hope I shall always possess firmness and virtue enough to maintain (what I consider the most enviable of all titles) the character of an honest man."

This answer drew from Hamilton the following reply: "I should be deeply pained, my dear sir, if your scruples in regard to a certain station should be matured into a resolution to decline it; though I am neither surprised at their existence, nor can I but agree in opinion that the caution you observe in deferring the ultimate determination is prudent. I have, however, reflected maturely on the subject, and have come to the conclusion (in which I feel no hesitation) that every public and personal consideration will demand from you an acquiescence in what will certainly be the unanimous wish of your country.

"The absolute retreat which you meditated at the close of the late war was natural and proper. Had the government produced by the Revolution gone on in a tolerable train, it would have been most advisable to have persisted in that retreat. But I am clearly of opinion that the crisis which brought you again into public view left you no alternative but to comply; and I am equally clear in the opinion that you are by that act pledged to take a part in the execution of the government. I am not less convinced that the impression of the necessity of your filling the station in question is so universal that you run no risk of any uncandid imputation by submitting to it. But even if this were not the case, a regard to your own reputation, as well as to the public good, calls upon you in the strongest manner to run that risk.

"It cannot be considered as a compliment to say that, on your acceptance of the office of President, the success of the new government in its commencement may materially depend. Your agency and influence will be not less important in preserving it from the future attacks of its enemies than they have been in recommending it in the first instance to the adoption of the people. Independent of all considerations drawn from this source, the point of light in which you stand at home and abroad will make an infinite difference in the respectability with which the government will begin its operations, in the alternative of your being or not being at the head of it. I forbear to mention considerations which might have a more personal application. What I have said will suffice for the inferences I mean to draw.

"First. In a matter so essential to the well-being of society as the prosperity of a newly-instituted 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 substituting 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 incumbent on me than to thank you sincerely for the frankness with which you communicated your sentiments, and to assure 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 circumstances 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 pass by your arguments without giving them as dispassionate 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 assured, believe the assertion (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 assistance 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 pass 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 circumstances 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, "pass 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 assured, 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 circumstances, 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 embarrassing 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 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 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 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 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 assailed 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 assuredly, 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 circumstances, 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 gratitude 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 passage must have sensibly touched the feelings of Washington:

"Not to extol your glory as a soldier; not to pour forth our gratitude 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 institutor 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 sexes 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 passed 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 sex 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 passes 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 passed 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 institutions, 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 ambassadors 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 assembled about 7 and rarely stayed exceeding 10 o'clock. The ladies were seated, and the President passed 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 Dickinson, 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." [1]

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. The procession moved to the hall of Congress, where Washington alighted with his attendants and entered the senate chamber. Here he was received by the Senate and House of Representatives. The Vice-President, John Adams, conducted Washington to his appointed seat, and shortly after announced to him that all was prepared for his taking the oath of office. Washington then proceeded to an open balcony in front of the house, where was a table with an open Bible lying upon it. On his appearance in the balcony, he was received with a most enthusiastic burst of popular applause, which he acknowledged by bowing to the people. Chancellor Livingston administered the oath, while Adams, Hamilton, Knox, Steuben, and others stood near the President. While the oath was being administered Washington laid his hand on the Bible. At its conclusion he said, "I swear, so help me God." His administration proves that the oath was sincere. He then stooped down and kissed the Bible. When the ceremony was concluded, he returned to the senate chamber and delivered his inaugural address to the two branches of Congress. He then proceeded on foot, with the whole assemblage, to St. Paul's Church, where prayers were read by the bishop, and the public ceremonial of the day was completed.

The occasion was celebrated by the people as a grand festival, and in the evening there was a display of fireworks as well as a general illumination of the city.

This display of enthusiasm on the part of the people was far from rendering Washington over-confident of success in his new position. He was thoroughly aware of the difficulties which would have to be encountered in putting the new government into action, so as to insure its stability and success. The opening of his inaugural address to both branches of Congress gives a clear indication of his views and feelings on taking office. It is as follows:

"Among the vicissitudes incident to life, no event could have filled me with greater anxieties than that of which the notification was transmitted by your order and received on the 14th day of the present month. On the one hand 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; a retreat which was rendered every day more necessary as well as more dear to me by the addition of habit to inclination, and of frequent interruptions in my health to the gradual waste committed on it by time. 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 unpracticed 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 effected. All I dare hope is, that if, in accepting this task, I have been too much swayed by a grateful remembrance of former instances or by an affectionate sensibility to this transcendent proof of the confidence of my fellow-citizens, and have thence too little consulted my incapacity, as well as disinclination for the weighty and untried cares before me, my error will be palliated by the motives which misled me, and its consequences be judged by my country with some share of the partiality in which they originated.

"Such being the impressions under which I have, in obedience to the public summons, repaired to the present station, it will be peculiarly improper to omit, in this first official act, my fervent supplications to that Almighty Being who rules over the universe—who presides in the councils of nations, and whose Providential aids can supply every human defect—that his benediction may consecrate to the liberties and happiness of the people of the United States, a government instituted by themselves for these essential purposes, and may enable every instrument employed in its administration to execute with success the functions allotted to his charge. In tendering this homage to the great Author of every public and private good, I assure myself that it expresses your sentiments not less than my own, nor those of my fellow-citizens at large less than either. No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand which conducts the affairs of men more than the people of the United States. Every step by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation seems to have been distinguished by some token of Providential agency, and in the important Revolution just accomplished in the system of their united government, the tranquil deliberations and voluntary consent of so many distinct communities, from which the event has resulted, cannot be compared with the means by which most governments have been established, without some return of pious gratitude, along with an humble anticipation of the future blessings which the past seem to presage. These reflections, arising out of the present crisis, have forced themselves too strongly on my mind to be suppressed. You will join with me, I trust, in thinking that there are none under the influence of which the proceedings of a new and free government can more auspiciously commence."

It will be seen by these expressions that the same sense of solemn responsibility and the same undoubting trust in Providence, so often evinced by Washington during the conflicts and perils of the war, marked his entrance upon the arduous duties of chief magistrate of the nation. As in the previous instance of accepting office, he now signified to Congress that he would receive no compensation for his services, except such as should be necessary to defray the expenses incident to the position in which he was placed.

This determination was announced in the concluding portion of the inaugural address, which was as follows:

"By the article establishing the executive department, it is made the duty of the President 'to recommend to your consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.' The circumstances under which I now meet you will acquit me from entering into that subject, further than to refer to the great constitutional charter under which you are assembled, and which, in defining your powers, designates the objects to which your attention is to be given. It will be more consistent with those circumstances and far more congenial with the feelings which actuate me to substitute in place of a recommendation of particular measures the tribute that is due to the talents, the rectitude, and the patriotism which adorn the characters selected to devise and adopt them. In these honorable qualifications I behold the surest pledges that, as on one side no local prejudices or attachments, no separate views nor party animosities will misdirect the comprehensive and equal eye which ought to watch over this great assemblage of communities and interests; so, on another, that the foundations of our national policy will be laid in the pure and immutable principles of private morality, and the pre-eminence of free government be exemplified by all the attributes which can win the affections of its citizens and command the respect of the world. I dwell on this prospect with every satisfaction which an ardent love for my country can inspire, since there is no truth more thoroughly established than that there exists in the economy and course of nature, an 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 felicity, since we ought to be no less persuaded that the propitious smiles of Heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right which Heaven itself has ordained, and since the preservation of the sacred fire of liberty and the destiny of the republican model of government are justly considered as deeply, perhaps as finally, staked on the experiment entrusted to the hands of the American people.

"Besides the ordinary objects submitted to your care it will remain with your judgment to decide how far an exercise of the occasional power delegated by the fifth article of the constitution is rendered expedient, at the present juncture, by the nature of objections which have been urged against the system or by the degree of inquietude which has given birth to them. Instead of undertaking particular recommendations on this subject, in which I could be guided by no lights derived from official opportunities, I shall again give way to my entire confidence in your discernment and pursuit of the public good, for I assure myself that, whilst you carefully avoid every alteration which might endanger the benefits of a united and effective government, or which ought to await the future lessons of experience, a reverence for the characteristic rights of freemen and a regard for the public harmony will sufficiently influence your deliberations on the question how far the former can be more impregnably fortified or the latter be safely and advantageously promoted.

"To the preceding observations I have one to add, which will be most properly addressed to the House of Representatives. It concerns myself, and will, therefore, be as brief as possible. 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 which 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.

"Having thus imparted to you my sentiments, as they have been awakened by the occasion which brings us together, I shall take my present leave, but not without resorting once more to the benign Parent of the human race, in humble supplication, that since He has been pleased to favor the American people with opportunities for deliberating in perfect tranquility and dispositions for deciding with unparalleled unanimity on a form of government for the security of their union and the advancement of their happiness, so his divine blessing may be equally conspicuous in the enlarged views, the temperate consultations, and the wise measures on which the success of his government must depend."

This speech was read to Congress by the President himself. The practice of sending a message instead of reading the speech in person was introduced by President Jefferson, who did not appear to advantage as an orator, and it has been continued to the present time. The same persons who found fault with Washington's levees would probably have regarded the practice introduced by Washington as anti-republican, as it is practiced by the sovereigns of Great Britain.

The executive departments which had existed under the confederation were necessarily continued until Congress should make new arrangements. Mr. Jay still acted as Secretary of Foreign Affairs, an office analogous to that which is now denominated Secretary of State, and General Knox as Secretary of War. The treasury was entrusted to a board of commissioners. Each of these at the request of the President furnished a full report of the state of the department respectively under their control. To the digesting, condensing, and studying of these, and of the diplomatic correspondence of the government since the close of the war, Washington now devoted himself with unwearied attention.

Of the mode in which his daily life was now passed during the hours when not engaged in official duty, we gain a pleasing glimpse from the following extract from G. W. P. Custis' "Recollections and Private Memoirs of the Life and Character of Washington," as follows:

"In the then limited extent and improvement of the city there was some difficulty in selecting a mansion for the residence of the chief magistrate and a house suitable to his rank and station. Osgood's house, a mansion of very moderate extent, was at length fixed upon, situated in Cherry street.

"There the President became domiciled. His domestic family consisted of Mrs. Washington, the two adopted children, Mr. Lear, as principal secretary, Colonel Humphreys, with Messrs. Lewis and Nelson, secretaries, and Maj. William Jackson, aide-de-camp.

"Persons visiting the house in Cherry street at this time of day will wonder how a building so small could contain the many and mighty spirits that thronged its halls in olden days. Congress, cabinets, all public functionaries in the commencement of the government were selected from the very elite of the nation. Pure patriotism, commanding talent, eminent services, were the proud and indispensable requisites for official station in the first days of the Republic. The first Congress was a most enlightened and dignified body. In the Senate were several of the members of the Congress of 1776 and signers of the Declaration of Independence—Richard Henry Lee, who moved the Declaration, John Adams, who seconded it, with Sherman, Morris, Carroll, etc.

"The levees of the first President were attended by these illustrious patriots and statesmen, and by many other of the patriots, statesmen, and soldiers, who could say of the Revolution, 'magna pars fui,' while numbers of foreigners and strangers of distinction crowded to the seat of the general government, all anxious to witness the grand experiment that was to determine how much rational liberty mankind is capable of enjoying, without said liberty degenerating into licentiousness.

"Mrs. Washington's drawing-rooms, on Friday nights, were attended by the grace and beauty of New York. On one of these occasions an incident occurred which might have been attended by serious consequences. Owing to the lowness of the ceiling in the drawing-room, the ostrich feather in the head-dress of Miss McIver, a belle of New York, took fire from the chandelier, to the no small alarm of the company. Major Jackson, aide-de-camp to the President, with great presence of mind and equal gallantry, flew to the rescue of the lady, and, by clapping the burning plumes between his hands, extinguished the flames, and the drawing-room went on as usual.

"Washington preserved the habit, as well in public as in private life, of rising at 4 o'clock and retiring to bed at 9. On Saturdays he rested somewhat from his labors by either riding into the country, attended by a groom, or with his family in his coach drawn by six horses.

"Fond of horses, the stables of the President were always in the finest order and his equipage excellent, both in taste and quality. Indeed, so long ago as the days of the vice-regal court of Lord Botetourt, at Williamsburg, in Virginia, we find that there existed a rivalry between the equipages of Colonel Byrd, a magnate of the old regime, and Colonel Washington—the grays against the bays. Bishop, the celebrated body-servant of Braddock, was the master of Washington's stables. And there were what was termed muslin horses in those days. At cockcrow the stable boys were at work; at sunrise Bishop stalked into the stables, a muslin handkerchief in his hand, which he applied to the coats of the animals, and, if the slightest stain was perceptible upon the muslin, up went the luckless wights of the stableboys and punishment was administered instanter; for to the veteran Bishop, bred amid the iron discipline of European armies, mercy for anything like a breach of duty was altogether out of the question.

"The President's stables in Philadelphia were under the direction of German John, and the grooming of the white chargers will rather surprise the moderns. The night before the horses were expected to be rode they were covered entirely over with a paste, of which whiting was the principal component part; then the animals were swathed in body clothes and left to sleep upon clean straw. In the morning the composition had become hard, was well rubbed in, and curried and brushed, which process gave to the coats a beautiful, glossy, and satin-like appearance. The hoofs were then blacked and polished, the mouths washed, teeth picked and cleaned, and, the leopard-skin housings being properly adjusted, the white chargers were led out for service. Such was the grooming of ancient times.

"There was but one theater in New York in 1789 (in John street), and so small were its dimensions that the whole fabric might easily be placed on the stage of one of our modern theaters. Yet, humble as was the edifice, it possessed an excellent company of actors and actresses, including old Morris, who was the associate of Garrick, in the very outset of that great actor's career, at Goodrhan's Fields. The stage boxes were appropriated to the President and Vice-President, and were each of them decorated with emblems, trophies, etc. At the foot of the playbills were always the words, 'Vivat Respublica.' Washington often visited this theater, being particularly gratified by Wignell's performance of Darby, in the 'Poor Soldier.'

"It was in the theater in John street that the now national air of 'Hail Columbia,' then called the 'President's March,' was first played. It was composed by a German musician by the name of Fyles, the leader of the orchestra, in compliment to the President. The national air will last as long as the nation lasts, while the meritorious composer has been long since forgotten.

"It was while residing in Cherry street that the President was attacked by a severe illness that required a surgical operation. He was attended by the elder and younger Drs. Bard. The elder, being somewhat doubtful of his nerves, gave the knife to his son, bidding him 'cut away—deeper, deeper still; don't be afraid; you see how well he bears it.' Great anxiety was felt in New York at this time, as the President's case was considered extremely dangerous. Happily, the operation proved successful, and the patient's recovery removed all cause of alarm. During the illness a chain was stretched across the street and the sidewalks laid with straw. Soon after his recovery the President set out on his intended tour through the New England States.

"The President's mansion was so limited in accommodation that three of the secretaries were compelled to occupy one room—Humphreys, Lewis, and Nelson. Humphreys, aide-de-camp to the Commander-in-Chief at Yorktown, was a most estimable man, and at the same time a poet. About this period he was composing his 'Widow of Malabac.' Lewis and Nelson, both young men, were content, after the labors of the day, to enjoy a good night's repose. But this was often denied them, for Humphreys, when in the vein, would rise from his bed at any hour, and, with stentorian voice, recite his verses. The young men, roused from their slumbers, and rubbing their eyes, beheld a great burly figure, 'en chemise,' striding across the floor, reciting, with great emphasis, particular passages from his poems, and calling on his room-mates for their approbation. Having, in this way, for a considerable time, 'murdered the sleep' of his associates, Humphreys, at length, wearied by his exertions, would sink upon his pillow in a kind of dreamy languor. So sadly were the young secretaries annoyed by the frequent outbursts of the poet's imagination that it was remarked of them by their friends, that, from 1789 to the end of their lives, neither Robert Lewis nor Thomas Nelson was ever known to evince the slightest taste for poetry."

Washington had hardly recovered from the severe attack of illness above referred to, when he heard of the death of his mother, who died on the 25th of August, 1789. He had paid her a visit just before leaving Mount Vernon for the seat of government. She was then residing at Fredericksburg, and was gradually sinking under a disease which was evidently mortal; and Washington, fully aware that he was seeing her for the last time, was much affected at the interview. She also felt that they were parting to meet no more in this world. "But she bade him go, with Heaven's blessing and her own, to fulfill the high destinies to which he had been called."

The mother of Washington was, in many respects, a remarkable woman. Her influence over her son in early life we have already had occasion to notice. In her last days she presents a true picture of matronly dignity. Mr. Custis states that she was continually visited and solaced, in the retirement of her declining years, by her children and numerous grandchildren. Her daughter, Mrs. Lewis, repeatedly and earnestly solicited her to remove to her house and there pass the remainder of her days. Her son pressingly entreated her that she would make Mount Vernon the home of her age. But the matron's answer was: "I thank you for your affectionate and dutiful offers, but my wants are few in this world and I feel perfectly competent to take care of myself." To the proposition of her son-in-law, Colonel Lewis, to relieve her by taking the direction of her concerns, she replied. "Do you, Fielding, keep my books in order, for your eyesight is better than mine; but leave the executive management to me." Such were the energy and independence she preserved to an age beyond that usually allotted to mortals, and till within three years of her death, when the disease under which she suffered (cancer of the breast) prevented exertion.

Her meeting with Washington, after the victory which decided the fortune of America, illustrates her character too strikingly to be omitted: "After an absence of nearly seven years it was, at length, on the return of the combined armies from Yorktown, permitted to the mother to see and embrace her illustrious son. So soon as he had dismounted, in the midst of a numerous and brilliant suite, he sent to apprise her of his arrival and to know when it would be her pleasure to receive him. And now, mark the force of early education and habits, and the superiority of the Spartan over the Persian schools, in this interview of the great Washington with his admirable parent and instructor. No pageantry of war proclaimed his coming—no trumpets sounded—no banners waved. Alone, and on foot, the Marshal of France, the General-in-Chief of the combined armies of France and America, the deliverer of his country, the hero of the age, repaired to pay his humble duty to her whom he venerated as the author of his being, the founder of his fortune and his fame. Full well he knew that the matron was made of sterner stuff than to be moved by all the pride that glory ever gave or by all the "pomp and circumstance" of power. The lady was alone—her aged hands employed in the works of domestic industry—when the good news was announced, and it was further told that the victor chief was in waiting at the threshold. She welcomed him with a warm embrace, and by the well-remembered and endearing names of his childhood. Inquiring as to his health, she remarked the lines which mighty cares and many trials had made on his manly countenance, spoke much of old times and old friends, but of his glory, not one word!

"Meantime, in the village of Fredericksburg, all was joy and revelry. The town was crowded with the officers of the French and American armies, and with gentlemen from all the country around, who hastened to welcome the conquerors of Cornwallis. The citizens made arrangements for a splendid ball to which the mother of Washington was specially invited. She observed that although her dancing days were pretty well over she should feel happy in contributing to the general festivity, and consented to attend.

"The foreign officers were anxious to see the mother of their chief. They had heard indistinct rumors respecting her remarkable life and character, but, forming their judgment from European examples, they were prepared to expect in the mother that glare and show which would have been attached to the parents of the great in the old world. How were they surprised when the matron, leaning on the arm of her son, entered the room! She was arrayed in the very plain, yet becoming garb worn by the Virginia lady of the olden time. Her address, always dignified and imposing, was courteous though reserved. She received the complimentary attentions which were profusely paid her without evincing the slightest elevation, and, at an early hour, wished the company much enjoyment of their pleasures, and observing that it was time for old people to be at home, retired, leaning as before on the arm of her son."

To this picture may be added another:

"The Marquis de Lafayette repaired to Fredericksburg, previous to his departure for Europe in the fall of 1784, to pay his parting respects to the mother, and to ask her blessing. Conducted by one of her grandsons he approached the house, when the young gentleman observed: 'There, sir, is my grandmother.' Lafayette beheld—working in the garden, clad in domestic-made clothes, and her gray head covered with a plain straw hat—the mother of 'his hero, his friend, and a country's preserver.' The lady saluted him, kindly observing: 'Ah, marquis! you see an old woman, but come, I can make you welcome to my poor dwelling without the parade of changing my dress.'"

To the encomiums lavished by the marquis on his chief, the mother replied: "I am not surprised at what George has done for he was always a very good boy." So simple, in her true greatness of soul, was this remarkable woman.

Her piety was ardent, and she associated devotion with the grand and beautiful in nature. She was in the habit of repairing every day for prayer to a secluded spot, formed by rocks and trees, near her dwelling.

The person of Mrs. Washington is described as being of the medium height and well proportioned—her features pleasing, though strongly marked. There were few painters in the Colonies in those days, and no portrait of her is in existence. Her biographer saw her but with infant eyes, but well remembered the sister of the chief. Of her we are told nothing, except that "she was a most majestic woman and so strikingly like the brother that it was a matter of frolic to throw a cloak around her and place a military hat upon her head, and such was the perfect resemblance that had she appeared on her brother's steed, battalions would have presented arms, and senates risen to do homage to the chief."

Mrs. Washington died at the age of eighty-five, rejoicing in the consciousness of a life well spent, and the hope of a blessed immortality. Her ashes repose at Fredericksburg, where a splendid monument has been erected to her memory. [2]

Deeply as Washington felt the loss of his estimable parent his attention was speedily withdrawn from his private and personal interests by the important political affairs which were pressing upon him. Congress were now fairly engaged in giving form and efficiency to the newly-created government. [3]

The continued existence of the constitution itself was menaced by some of the States which had acceded to it, as well as by those who had refused to adopt it. In some of the States a disposition to acquiesce in the decision which had been made, and to await the issue of a fair experiment of the constitution was avowed by the minority. In others the chagrin of defeat seemed to increase the original hostility to the instrument, and serious fears were entertained by its friends that a second general convention might pluck from it the most essential of its powers before their value and the safety with which they might be confided where they were placed could be ascertained by experience.

From the same cause exerting itself in a different direction the friends of the new system had been still more alarmed. In all those States where the opposition was sufficiently formidable to inspire a hope of success, the effort was made to fill the Legislature with the declared enemies of the government and thus to commit it, in its infancy, to the custody of its foes. Their fears were quieted for the present. In both branches of the Legislature the Federalists, an appellation at that time distinguishing those who had supported the constitution, formed the majority, and it soon appeared that a new convention was too bold an experiment to be applied for by the requisite number of States. But two States, Rhode Island and North Carolina, still remained out of the pale of the Union, and a great deal of ill humor existed among those who were included within it, which increased the necessity of circumspection in those who administered the government.

To the western parts of the continent the attention of the Executive was attracted by discontents which were displayed with some violence, and which originated in circumstances and in interests peculiar to that country.

Spain, in possession of the mouth of the Mississippi, had refused to permit the citizens of the United States to follow its waters into the ocean, and had occasionally tolerated or interdicted their commerce to New Orleans, as had been suggested by the supposed interest or caprice of the Spanish government or of its representatives in America. The eyes of the inhabitants adjacent to the waters which emptied into that river were turned down it as the only channel through which the surplus produce of their luxuriant soil could be conveyed to the markets of the world. Believing that the future wealth and prosperity of their country depended on the use of that river they gave some evidence of a disposition to drop from the Confederacy, if this valuable acquisition could not otherwise be made. This temper could not fail to be viewed with interest by the neighboring powers, who had been encouraged by it and by the imbecility of the government, to enter into intrigues of an alarming nature.

Previous to his departure from Mount Vernon, Washington had received intelligence, too authentic to be disregarded, of private machinations, by real or pretended agents both of Spain and Great Britain, which were extremely hostile to the peace and to the integrity of the Union.

Spain had intimated that the navigation of the Mississippi could never be conceded while the inhabitants of the western country remained connected with the Atlantic States, but might be freely granted to them if they should form an independent empire.

On the other hand a gentleman from Canada, whose ostensible business was to repossess himself of some lands on the Ohio which had been formerly granted to him, frequently discussed the vital importance of the navigation of the Mississippi, and privately assured several individuals of great influence that if they were disposed to assert their rights he was authorized by Lord Dorchester, the Governor of Canada, to say that they might rely confidently on his assistance. With the aid it was in his power to give they might seize New Orleans, fortify the Balize at the mouth of the Mississippi, and maintain themselves in that place against the utmost efforts of Spain. [4]

The probability of failing in any attempt to hold the mouth of the Mississippi by force, and the resentments against Great Britain which prevailed generally throughout the western country, diminished the danger to be apprehended from any machinations of that power, but against those of Spain the same security did not exist.

In contemplating the situation of the United States in their relations not purely domestic the object demanding most immediate consideration was the hostility of several tribes of Indians. The military strength of the nations who inhabited the country between the lakes, the Mississippi, and the Ohio was computed at 5,000 men, of whom about 1,500 were at open war with the United States. Treaties had been concluded with the residue, but the warlike disposition of the Indians, and the provocations they had received, furnished reasons for apprehending that these treaties would soon be broken.

In the South the Creeks, who could bring into the field 6,000 fighting men, were at war with Georgia. In the mind of their leader, M'Gillivray, the son of a white man, some irritation had been produced by the confiscation of the lands of his father who had resided in that State, and several other refugees, whose property had also been confiscated, contributed still further to exasperate the nation. But the immediate point in contest between them was a tract of land on the Oconee, which the State of Georgia claimed under a purchase, the validity of which was denied by the Indians.

The regular force of the United States was less than 600 men.

Not only the policy of accommodating differences by negotiation which the government was in no condition to terminate by the sword, but a real respect for the rights of the natives and a regard for the claims of justice and humanity, disposed Washington to endeavor, in the first instance, to remove every cause of quarrel by a treaty, and his message to Congress on this subject evidenced his preference of pacific measures.

Possessing many valuable articles of commerce for which the best market was often found on the coast of the Mediterranean, struggling to export them in their own bottoms, and unable to afford a single gun for their protection, the Americans could not view with unconcern the dispositions which were manifested toward them by the Barbary powers. A treaty had been formed with the Emperor of Morocco, but from Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli peace had not been purchased, and those regencies considered all as enemies to whom they had not sold their friendship. The unprotected vessels of America presented a tempting object to their rapacity, and their hostility was the more terrible, because by their public law prisoners became slaves.

The United States were at peace with all the powers of Europe, but controversies of a delicate nature existed with some of them, the adjustment of which required a degree of moderation and firmness which there was reason to fear might not, in every instance, be exhibited.

The apprehensions with which Spain had contemplated the future strength of the United States, and the consequent disposition to restrict them to narrow limits, have been already noticed. After the conclusion of the war the attempt to form a treaty with that power had been repeated, but no advance toward an agreement on the points Of difference between the two governments had been made.

Circumstances attending the points of difference with Great Britain were still more serious, because, in their progress, a temper unfavorable to accommodation had been uniformly displayed.

The resentments produced by the various calamities war had occasioned were not terminated with their cause. The idea that Great Britain was the natural enemy of America had become habitual. Believing it impossible for that nation to have relinquished its views of conquest, many found it difficult to bury their animosities and to act upon the sentiment contained in the Declaration of Independence, "to hold them as the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends." In addition to the complaints respecting the violation of the treaty of peace events were continually supplying this temper with fresh aliment. The disinclination which the cabinet of London had discovered to a commercial treaty with the United States was not attributed exclusively to the cause which had been assigned for it. It was in part ascribed to that jealousy with which Britain was supposed to view the growing trade of America.

The general restrictions on commerce by which every maritime power sought to promote its own navigation, and that part of the European system in particular by which each aimed at a monopoly of the trade of its Colonies, were felt with peculiar keenness when enforced by England. In this suspicious temper almost every unfavorable event which occurred was traced up to British hostility.

That an attempt to form a commercial treaty with Portugal had failed, was attributed to the influence of the cabinet of London, and to the machinations of the same power were also ascribed the danger from the corsairs of Barbary and the bloody incursions of the Indians. The resentment excited by these causes was felt by a large proportion of the American people, and the expression of it was common and public. That correspondent dispositions existed in England is by no means improbable, and the necessary effect of this temper was to increase the difficulty of adjusting the differences between the two nations.

With France the most perfect harmony subsisted. Those attachments which originated in the signal services received from the King of France during the war of the Revolution had sustained no diminution. Yet, from causes which it was found difficult to counteract, the commercial intercourse between the two nations was not so extensive as had been expected. It was the interest and, of consequence, the policy of France, to avail herself of the misunderstandings between the United States and Great Britain, in order to obtain such regulations as might gradually divert the increasing trade of the American continent from those channels in which it had been accustomed to flow, and a disposition was felt throughout the United States to cooperate with her in enabling her merchants, by legislative encouragements, to rival those of Britain in the American market.

A great revolution had commenced in that country, the first stage of which was completed by limiting the powers of the monarch, and by the establishment of a popular assembly. In no part of the globe was this revolution hailed with more joy than in America. The influence it would have on the affairs of the world was not then distinctly foreseen, and the philanthropist, without becoming a political partisan, rejoiced in the event. On this subject, therefore, but one sentiment existed.

The relations of the United States with the other powers of Europe did not require particular attention. Their dispositions were rather friendly than otherwise, and an inclination was generally manifested to participate in the advantages which the erection of an independent empire on the western shores of the Atlantic held forth to the commercial world.

By the ministers of foreign powers in America it would readily be supposed that the first steps taken by the new government would not only be indicative of its present system, but would probably affect its foreign relations permanently, and that the influence of the President would be felt in the Legislature. Scarcely was the exercise of his executive functions commenced when Washington received an application from the Count de Moustiers, the minister of France, requesting a private conference. On being told that the Department of Foreign Affairs was the channel through which all official business should pass, the count replied that the interview he requested was not for the purpose of actual business, but rather as preparatory to its future transaction.

The next day, at 1 in the afternoon, was named for the interview. The count commenced the conversation with declarations of his personal regard for America, the manifestations of which, he said, had been early and uniform. His nation, too, was well disposed to be upon terms of amity with the United States, but at his public reception there were occurrences which he thought indicative of coolness in the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, who had, he feared, while in Europe, imbibed prejudices, not only against Spain, but against France also. If this conjecture should be right the present head of that department could not be an agreeable organ of intercourse with the President. He then took a view of the modern usages of European courts, which, he said, favored the practice he recommended, of permitting foreign ministers to make their communications directly to the chief of the executive. "He then presented a letter," says Washington in his private journal, "which he termed confidential, and to be considered as addressed to me in my private character, which was too strongly marked with an intention, as well as a wish, to have no person between the minister and President in the transaction of business between the two nations."

In reply to these observations Washington assured him that, judging from his own feelings and from the public sentiment, there existed in America a reciprocal disposition to be on the best terms with France. That whatever former difficulties might have occurred he was persuaded the Secretary of Foreign Affairs had offered no intentional disrespect either to the minister or to his nation. Without undertaking to know the private opinions of Mr. Jay he would declare that he had never heard that officer express, directly or indirectly, any sentiment unfavorable to either.

Reason and usage, he added, must direct the mode of treating national and official business. If rules had been established they must be conformed to. If they were yet to be framed it was hoped that they would be convenient and proper. So far as case could be made to comport with regularity and with necessary forms, it ought to be consulted, but custom, and the dignity of office, were not to be disregarded. The conversation continued upward of an hour, but no change was made in the resolution of the President.

During its first session the national Legislature was principally occupied in providing revenues for the long-exhausted treasury, in establishing a judiciary, in organizing the executive departments in detail, and in framing amendments to the constitution, agreeably to the suggestion of the President. The members immediately entered upon the exercise of those powers so long refused under the articles of confederation. They imposed a tonnage duty, as well as duties on various imported articles, steadily keeping in sight, however, the navigating interest of the country, which had hitherto been almost wholly at the mercy of other nations. Higher tonnage duties were imposed on foreign than on American bottoms, and goods imported in vessels belonging to citizens of the United States paid 10 per cent less duty than the same goods brought in those owned by foreigners. These discriminating duties were intended to counteract the commercial regulations of foreign nations and to encourage American shipping. To aid in the management of the affairs of government three executive departments were established, styled Departments of War, Foreign Affairs, and of the Treasury, with a secretary at the head of each.

The heads of these departments, in addition to the duties specially assigned them, were intended to constitute a council, to be consulted by the President whenever he thought proper, and the Executive was authorized by the constitution to require the opinion, in writing, of the principal officers in the executive departments, on subjects relating to the duties of their offices. In framing the acts constituting these offices and defining their duties, it became an important subject of inquiry in what manner or by whom these important officers could be removed from office. This was a question as new as it was momentous and was applicable to all officers of executive appointment. In the long and learned debates on the subject in Congress, there arose a very animated opposition to such a construction of the constitution as to give this power to any one individual. Whatever confidence might be placed in the chief magistrate then at the head of the government, equal confidence could not be expected in his successors, and it was contended that a concurrence of the Senate was as necessary and proper in the removal of a person from office as in his appointment. Some of the members of the House of Representatives were of opinion that they could not be removed without impeachment. The principal question, however, on which Congress was divided, was, whether they were removable by the President alone, or by the President in concurrence with the Senate. A majority, however, in both houses, decided that this power was in the President alone. In the House, the majority in favor of this construction was twelve. This decision of a great constitutional question has been acquiesced in, and in its consequences has been of greater importance than almost any other since the establishment of the new government. From the manner in which this power has been exercised, it has given a tone and character to the executive branch of the government not contemplated, it is believed, by the framers of the constitution or by those who constituted the first Congress under it. It has greatly increased the influence and patronage of the President and in no small degree made him the center around which the other branches of the government revolve. [4]

In a free country, where the private citizen has both the right and the inclination to take an interest in the public concerns, it is natural that political parties and civil contentions should arise. These will be more or less violent, angry, and hostile, according as a sense of common security from external dangers leaves no cause for united action, and little anxiety for the common peace. A natural consequence of this strife of parties is the exercise of the passions—pride, interest, vanity, resentment, gratitude—each contributing its share in irritating and prolonging the controversy. In the beginning of the Revolution, the people of the United States divided themselves into the two great classes of Whigs and Tories; then they again separated upon the question of absolute independence. Other questions arose during the war, relative to its conduct, and the qualifications of the leaders of the army. Independence achieved, the minds of the people were agitated about the nature of the government, which all saw to be necessary for their own happiness, and for the better enabling them to prosecute with foreign countries peaceful negotiations or the operations of war. Many saw, in too close a union, dangers as great and consequences as distasteful as in their entire separation. It was believed by many that the extent of the country, the great diversity of character, habits, and pursuits among the several States, presented insuperable obstacles to a closer union than that afforded by the articles of confederation. Some were almost exclusively commercial, others agricultural; some were disposed to engage in manufacturing pursuits; some had domestic slavery firmly connected with their domestic relations and were disposed to look favorably on the extension of the institution; others regarded involuntary servitude as a curse, and desired its abolition.

It was not to be wondered at, that with such points of diversity, many should suppose that a single government could not administer the affairs of all, except by a greater delegation of power than would be submitted to by the American people. While some looked wholly to these apprehended consequences of a close union and a single government, others chiefly regarded the dangers arising from disunion, domestic dissensions, and even war. One party dreaded consolidation; the other, anarchy and separation. Each saw, in the object of its dread, the destruction of good government, though one party looked too exclusively to its characteristic of order, the other to that of civil liberty. These were the thoughts of the people, widely different, but all equally honest. But the politicians addressed themselves to these prejudices, often with unworthy motives. Local prejudices, self-interest, fears, in some cases from an anticipated loss of consequence, in the event of a transfer of sovereignty from the individual States to the general government, all combined to make many violent in their expressions of opposition to the plan. Apprehensions of violence and disorder, and fears from individual popularity in a circumscribed sphere, led others to desire consolidation. With these, ranked others who were fond of the pomp and show of authority which would attend a powerful government; and still others, who, having claims upon the country, supposed that they would have much stronger hopes of being paid themselves and of seeing the debts due abroad liquidated if a system of government were established which could be certain to raise a revenue for these objects. On the formation of the constitution, the community settled down into two great parties, Federalists and Anti-Federalists, or Democrats; the first believing that the most imminent danger to our peace and prosperity was in disunion, and that popular jealousy, always active, would withhold the power which was essential to good order and national safety; the other party believing that the danger most to be apprehended was in too close a union, and that their most powerful opponents wished a consolidated and even a monarchial government.

There were many who had been accustomed to reflect upon government and political relations previously to the war of independence, when the constitution of Great Britain being by far the best that had ever existed, they may naturally be supposed to have conceived for it a degree of homage and respect which it could not now inspire. The speculations on political rights, to which the contest with Great Britain and the debates on the question of independence gave rise, greatly favored the doctrines of political equality and the hatred of power in any form that could control the public will. There are, in the heart of every man, principles which readily prepare him for republican doctrines, and after a few years some of the speculative politicians began to think that the free, simple, and equal government which was suited to the tastes and habits of our people, was also the best in theory. The great body of the people were partial to the form of government to which they had been accustomed and wished for none other, though the leading statesmen differed upon this point. Some preferred the republican form in theory and believed that no other would be tolerated in practice, and others regretted that they were obliged to yield so far to popular prejudice as to forego the form they deemed best, but determined to avail themselves of every opportunity of improving the existing government into that form. Nor were they without hopes that by siding with the general government in every question of power between that and the separate States, and with the Executive in all questions between that and the Legislature, and by continually increasing the patronage of the executive by means of an army, a navy, and the multiplication of civil officers, they would ultimately obtain their object. [5]

It was in the midst of this society, so agitated and disturbed, that Washington, without ambition, without any false show, from a sense of duty rather than inclination and rather trusting in truth than confident of success, undertook actually to found the government decreed by the new-born constitution. He rose to his high office invested with an immense influence, which was acknowledged and received even by his enemies.

Washington's natural inclination, says Guizot, [7] was rather to a democratic social state than to any other. Of a mind just rather than expansive, of a temper wise and calm, full of dignity, but free from all selfish and arrogant pretensions—coveting rather respect than power—the impartiality of democratic principles and the simplicity of democratic manners, far from offending or annoying him, suited his tastes and satisfied his judgment. He did not trouble himself with inquiring whether more elaborate combinations, a division into ranks, privileges, and artificial barriers, were necessary to the preservation of society. He lived tranquilly in the midst of an equal and sovereign people, finding its authority to be lawful and submitting to it without effort.

But when the question was one of political and not social order, when the discussion turned upon the organization of the government, he was strongly federal, opposed to local and popular pretensions and the declared advocate of the unity and force of the central power.

He placed himself under this standard and did so to insure its triumph. But still his elevation was not the victory of a party and awakened in no one either exultation or regret. In the eyes, not only of the public, but of his enemies, he was not included in any party and was above them all: "the only man in the United States," said Jefferson, "who possessed the confidence of all;—there was no other one who was considered as anything more than a party leader."

It was his constant effort to maintain this honorable privilege. "It is really my wish to have my mind and my actions, which are the result of reflection, as free and independent as the air. If it should be my inevitable fate to administer the government, I will go to chair under no pre-engagement of any kind or nature whatsoever. Should anything tending to give me anxiety present itself in this or any other publication, I shall never undertake the painful task of recrimination, nor do I know that I should ever enter upon my justification. All else is but food for declamation. Men's minds are as various as their faces, and, where the motives of their actions are pure, the operations of the former are no more to be imputed to them as a crime than the appearance of the latter. Differences in political opinions are as unavoidable, as, to a certain point, they may, perhaps, be necessary." [8]