Light-Horse Harry: A Biography of Washington’s Great Cavalryman, General Henry Lee (Heroes and Villains from American History)

by Noel B. Gerson

  Harry Lee was an articulate public speaker, and was so intense that he proved capable of arousing the emotions of his audiences. Experienced politicians were impressed by his ability to sway men’s minds, although there was little in his thinking that was original.

  Madison was elected to the convention as a delegate from Orange County. Westmoreland County, which favored ratification, surprised Harry by sending him to Richmond as one of its representatives. There he found the opposition formidable, and the convention dominated by Patrick Henry, Richard Henry Lee, George Mason, and Edmund Randolph. Madison was gloomy, and Washington, who had remained at Mount Vernon, was apprehensive — and with good cause.

  If Virginia, one of the pivotal states, refused to ratify the Constitution, it seemed probable that New York and Pennsylvania, which had not yet voted, would reject the new form of government, too. And without these three states it would be impossible to set up a new system, even though every other state in the Union expressed its approval of the federal government.

  Patrick Henry appeared invincible — as always. The most brilliant orator in the United States, many times Governor of Virginia and a man to whom many delegates were indebted for political favors, he made several speeches on the first day of the convention and even more on the second. He used every weapon in his potent arsenal, from logic to bitter ridicule, to smash his opposition. He was applauded violently every time he stood and demanded the floor.

  The supporters of the proposed Constitution had not spoken a word by the time the third day’s session was half-completed. James Madison coolly awaited his opportunity, marshaling his arguments. But Harry Lee lacked his friend’s patience. A cavalryman always struck hard and, if possible, directed his attack at the enemy’s core. So, on the afternoon of the third day, Harry managed to get the floor, and stunned even his friends by directing his assault at the semi-sacred person of Patrick Henry.

  “Is it proper,” he demanded, “to appeal to the fears of this House? The question before us belongs to the judgment of this House. I trust Governor Henry has come to judge and not to alarm. I trust that he and every other gentleman in this House comes with a firm resolution, coolly and calmly to examine, and fairly and impartially to determine.

  “He was pleased to pass an eulogem on that character who is the pride of peace and support of war; and declared that even from him he would require the reason of proposing such a system. I cannot see the propriety of mentioning that illustrious character on this occasion; we must all be fully impressed with the conviction of his extreme rectitude of conduct.

  “But this system is to be examined by its own merits.

  “Governor Henry adverted to the style of government and asked what authority they had to use the expression, ‘we, the people,’ and not, ‘we, the states.’ This expression was introduced into that paper with great propriety. This system is submitted to the people for their consideration because on them it is to operate if adopted. It is not binding on the people unless it becomes their act.

  “It is now submitted to the people of Virginia; by what style could it be done? Suppose it was found proper for our adoption and becoming the government of the people of Virginia, by what style could it be done? Ought we not to make use of the name of the people? No other style would be proper.

  “Governor Henry then spoke of the character of the gentlemen who framed it. This was inapplicable, strange, and unexpected. It was a more proper inquiry whether such evils existed as rendered necessary a change of government.

  “This necessity is evident by the concurrent testimony of almost all America. The legislative acts of different states avow it. It is acknowledged by the acts of this state; under such an act we are here now assembled. If reference to the act of Assembly will not convince Governor Henry of this necessity, let him go to our seaports. Let him see our commerce languishing — not an American bottom to be seen. Let him ask the price of land, and of produce, in different parts of the country: To what cause shall we ascribe the very low price of these? To what cause are we to attribute the decrease of population and industry and the impossibility of employing our tradesmen and mechanics? To what cause will the gentleman impute these and a thousand other misfortunes our people labor under?

  “These are owing to the imbecility of the Confederation, to that defective system which can never make us happy at home or respectable abroad. Let us abolish it, now and forever. Let us, as Governor Henry himself has said in a memorable address that will forever enshrine him in the hearts of his countrymen, let us remember we are Americans all, and Virginians afterward!”

  The cavalry brilliantly performed its mission of placing the opposition on the defensive. Harry’s courage in striking direct at Patrick Henry startled the delegates, as did his insistence on keeping the figure of General Washington beyond reach. In one brief, pungent address, Harry Lee came of age politically, and immediately was regarded as a force of consequence.

  In fact, Governor Henry paid him the compliment of exposing him to ridicule in an address that “lamented” the judgment of Westmoreland County’s voters, who, he said, should have sent someone versed in statecraft and the law to Richmond rather than one whose sole claim to fame was his ability to sit on a horse.

  Harry had the good sense not to reply, but a later speech by the wily old politician infuriated him. The former Governor attacked the idea of a federal army as unsound, and Harry delivered an impassioned reply lasting more than two hours. Citing example after example, he recounted in detail the record of professional Continental soldiers and the feeble efforts of state militia. Among the opponents of ratification were a number of former officers, but they forgot politics and gave him a standing ovation when he sat down, still indignant.

  In the days that followed there were maneuvers and counter-maneuvers behind the scenes, with Washington quietly using his influence from Mount Vernon to further the cause of the Constitution’s proponents, while Patrick Henry, devoting his days to endless speechmaking, used his nights to hold private meetings at which he tried to win converts to the opponents of the Constitution. Madison and Mason utilized logic on behalf of their respective causes, and each day’s informal tally indicated that the vote would be very close.

  Harry Lee remained in the thick of the fight, and although he was in no sense a leader of the Constitutionalists, he found himself so regarded by a large number of delegates. His two speeches, combined with his strong personality and military reputation, made him one of the best-known men in Richmond. Scores of visitors who were drawn to the town by the stirring debate sought him out, and it was not unusual for a crowd to gather outside his lodgings and applaud him as he left for the convention’s morning session. Ironically, many of the visitors seemed unaware of James Madison’s identity.

  When the formal count was taken, the Constitutionalists won by a slim margin of ten votes. Harry was hailed by many of his colleagues as a worthy successor to Cousin Richard Henry Lee, a claim he had the good sense to recognize as nonsense. Harry was a man who always wanted — and may have needed — the good opinion of the world in which he lived, but he had sufficient insight to recognize his own inner strengths and did not allow himself to be swept away by the tides of his own vanity. His character weaknesses, which were subtle, had not yet manifested themselves.

  Virginia’s ratification made it certain that the new form of government would come into being, and as soon as Harry returned to Stratford he planned to take Matilda to New York to watch the birth of the federal government in which he believed. Like Madison and many others, he believed the nation’s worst trials were at an end.

  The concept of a strong executive branch of government was new to Americans, and in every state there were leaders whose friends began to promote them for the high office of President of the United States. Perhaps the most prominent of those mentioned in the late summer and autumn of 1788 was John Hancock of Massachusetts, the wealthy Patriot who had devoted most of his fortune to the cause of liberty, had
served with distinction as President of the Continental Congress and was now Governor of Massachusetts. His associates, in no way discouraged by Hancock himself, began an active campaign on his behalf elsewhere.

  Harry Lee was one of the first to take active steps on behalf of General Washington. Certainly there were men in every state who looked to Washington for leadership, but the general’s austerity made them hesitate to urge that he consider the presidency. Harry felt no inhibitions on this score, however. With his own father in his grave for only a short time, he had already turned to the general as a substitute father-figure, and a letter he sent to Washington at Mount Vernon from nearby Stratford on September 13 was an honest expression of his sentiments.

  He wrote, in part, “Solicitous for our common happiness as a people, & convinced as I continue to be that our peace & prosperity depend on the proper improvement of the present period, my anxiety is extreme that the new govt. may have an auspicious beginning.

  “To effect this & 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 has invariably governed your conduct, will no doubt continue to rule your mind however opposite their consequences may be to your repose & happiness. It may be wrong, but I cannot suppress in my wishes for national felicity, a due regard for your personal fame & 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.

  “Without you the govt. can have but little chance of success, & the people of that happiness which its prosperity must yield.”

  General Washington, true to his nature, refused to seek the presidency, believing that the office should seek the man, a natural attitude in one of his rectitude — which thereafter established a pattern copied by every candidate for the post.

  In spite of his own modesty, however, his bandwagon began to move. Officers who had served under him and regarded him with a mixture of awe and wonder were now gentlemen of consequence in all thirteen states, and they began to clamor insistently for his election. None of his former subordinates worked more diligently or enthusiastically for this end than Harry Lee.

  The anti-Constitutionalists in Virginia, men of high character like Patrick Henry and George Mason excepted, were still bitter over their defeat, but could not take out their wrath on Washington, in whom they could find little fault. The upstart politician, Harry Lee, who had leaped into prominence overnight, was a natural target, and they attacked him venomously.

  A whispering campaign was instituted, and it was said throughout the state that Harry was advocating the general’s cause in the hope that he would be given a high position on the President’s staff if his candidate should be elected.

  Pat Carnes, Joe Eggleston, and other former Legion officers who knew Harry well expected him to deny the charge. He was neither a hypocrite nor greedy, they believed, and were confident he would squash the rumor with a ringing declaration of principles. When he said nothing, they were disturbed, and Carnes, rather uneasily, wondered on paper in a letter to Eggleston whether the incorruptible commander of Lee’s Legion had changed.

  The truth of the matter was that the story didn’t reach Harry’s ears until the active campaign for various candidates was well under way. Then a letter from James Madison, who was running for a seat in the Senate and whom he was also supporting, enlightened him. He was stunned and, as he declared in a lengthy reply, “sickened” by the charge. What bothered him most was not his own situation but the thought that anyone might believe Washington capable of “perpetrating political knavery.”

  In order to set the record straight, Harry prepared a long “Statement of Fact,” which he had printed at his own expense, and to make certain that no one misunderstood, sent a copy to General Washington. The better part of the handbill was devoted to a spirited defense of the general. All who knew him, the indignant Harry declared, realized he would make no deals with any man for his own or mutual profit. “His purity shines in all his deeds, and there is no blemish or stain on any act committed by him in all the years the fate of this nation was in his hands.”

  As for himself, the budding politician declared flatly, he would not seek office from Washington, nor would he accept one if it should be offered to him. “My experience in the conduct of civilian affairs of state is negligible, and I am not qualified to hold an office in which the national trust depends on the wisdom of a govt. official. I do not flatter myself that I would be entrusted with such a post; there are good staff officers in every state, & their counsel is of inestimably greater value than would be mine. I am content with my present lot, and do not desire that it be changed.”

  Whether Washington might have asked him to accept a place in the federal establishment after his election as President is an unanswerable question. The general took him at his word.

  XIII: TURMOIL, TROUBLE AND TRAGEDY: THE ACHILLES HEEL

  Gentlemen who had demonstrated their faith in the future of the United States by buying bonds during Confederation days breathed more easily when the new system of government was adopted. Their investments were sound now, they believed, and it was probable they would earn a profit.

  That optimism was reflected everywhere, by men of every class. Hard times were past, and refusing to make allowances for the growing pains the federal government was almost certain to endure, they were convinced that America would overnight live up to the potential of her natural resources. The nation would expand, and soon everyone would become wealthy.

  Land was a commodity men knew, or thought they knew, and there were millions of virgin acres waiting to be settled. Men by the thousands, including immigrants from Great Britain and, to a lesser extent, France and the German states, traveled across the mountains with their families to settle in Kentucky and Tennessee. The richness of the soil in the Ohio Valley became a topic of conversation in taverns, inns, and private dwellings from the sparsely populated Maine District of Massachusetts to rural Georgia.

  In all thirteen states, men with cash in their pockets and strongboxes had the same idea. Settlers needed land, and those who owned large parcels of it could make a killing. Land speculation became a national mania.

  Harry Lee was not immune to the disease, and his appetite was whetted by the sale of one of the Kentucky properties he had inherited from his father. He emerged from the transaction with a handsome profit, and looked for fresh fields to conquer. One of the most spectacular land development projects was being managed close at hand, so he didn’t have far to search.

  Virginia had always been conscious of the West’s potentials, and the Burgesses had authorized the formation of a private organization known as the Potomac Company to carry out what was universally regarded as a farsighted project. A series of canals would be dug to link the waterways of Virginia with those of its Kentucky District, and then the great riches of the West could be carried to Atlantic seaports for transportation to Europe. Both East and West would profit, and the nation would no longer need to depend on an agreement with Spain permitting Westerners to send their boats and barges down the Mississippi River.

  The directors of the Potomac Company were men of integrity, standing and personal wealth. The president was General Washington himself. And the organization was doing more than talk. Canals were already being dug, one at the Great Falls of the Potomac, which would become a key spot in the pipeline.

  Colonel John Fitzgerald heard his former commander-in-chief discuss the canal with a rare display of enthusiasm, and passed along the word to his friend, Harry Lee. The two men decided to see for themselves what was happening, and rode westward to inspect the Great Falls. Harry was immediately struck by the potential of the site, and as promptly bought five hundred acres adjoining the place where the locks would be built, with an option to buy still more. W
arehouses would be needed there for produce, furs, and lumber being shipped east; there was ample water power for mills, and the traffic would be heavy enough for the construction of two inns, one for the comfortably situated and one for bargemen, each with its own taprooms.

  Harry conceived the idea of building a town there. He outlined his thoughts to Washington, who had just been elected President of the United States. The squire of Mount Vernon approved, and soon thereafter sent a glowing letter to Madison, who, as a potential investor, sought his advice concerning the future of the project. Unfortunately, Harry and Washington weren’t businessmen, but Madison was canny enough not to sink a penny into the venture.

  The engineers in charge of the canal digging were new to that sort of work, and made several errors that rendered their ditches inoperable. Harry’s town remained a dream. Even worse, the people who had sold him the five hundred acres had not obtained clear title to the property, and he became involved in complicated and expensive litigation.

  Had he been far-seeing, he would have dropped his project, accepted his relatively small losses and forgotten the matter. But he was fooled by an insistent clamor from merchants, innkeepers, and mill owners anxious to buy land from him. Even Madison was beguiled and, although he put no money of his own into Great Falls, tried to obtain major financial backing from friends in New York and Philadelphia, and even went so far as to write a letter to Thomas Jefferson, United States Minister to France, suggesting that wealthy nobles there might want to invest.

  Jefferson, who knew more about land than either of the younger men, gently refused to associate himself with the project. Harry was caught in a dilemma. In order to sell parcels of land to eager, waiting buyers, he needed clear title to his five hundred acres. In order to get it, he would have to put up a strong legal battle that would cost him a considerable sum. But he had almost no cash in hand, having spent four thousand pounds in sterling for his purchase. All his other money was tied up in various expansion projects at Stratford.