by Logan Beirne
Washington’s order elicited a firestorm of criticism. It was condemned as undemocratic and possibly a sign that Americans had invested their commander with too much power. While many states adopted comparable measures, some Americans saw it as a power too dangerous to entrust to any military leader, however beloved. It was one thing for Washington to command his own troops or punish the enemy, but it was another when he started to order American civilians around. Many of those civilians declared that their empowered commander had grown insensitive to personal liberties and was morphing from a military dictator into an absolute one. One congressman believed that Washington had “assumed the Legislative and Executive powers of Government in all the states.”16
A proud republican who deeply believed in the ideals of his budding country, Washington did not intend to use his broad military powers to trample the civilian leadership’s nonmilitary laws. John Adams defended America’s commander, stating that “General Washington’s proclamation . . . does not interfere with the laws of Civil Government of any State; but considering the Army was prudent and necessary.”17 Washington felt wounded by assertions otherwise, and he never actually enforced the order. However, he never recanted it either.18 As the master of the military, he was not one to back down.
In stark contrast to his defense of New York City, Washington next informed Congress that he did not intend to protect their capital city at all costs. 19 Political pressure had compelled him to take, and linger in, indefensible positions in New York; he would not repeat that mistake in Philadelphia. After Washington drove back the enemy forces at Trenton and Princeton, Congress had returned from Baltimore in March 1777. But Washington did not make them feel particularly welcome.
Even though Philadelphia was the political heart of the nation and the politicians expected him to defend it with the full might of the Continental Army, Washington declined. He knew he could not risk his fragile army against another major British naval and land assault. His main focus was to defend his army, even if it meant ceding cities to the British war machine. Thus, he needed the flexibility of a quick retreat, and so he sent Nathanael Greene to inform Congress of his new defensive strategy.
Greene reported back to Washington, “I explained to the House your Excellency’s Ideas of the next Campaign [and] it appear’d new to them. ”20 Put less delicately, Congress was shocked. They had expected their commander to defend their capital to the bitter end.21
Many of the remaining patriots fled Philadelphia. John Adams colorfully described the largely abandoned city to his wife: “This City is a dull place, in comparison of what it was. More than half the Inhabitants removed into the country as it was their Wisdom to do—the remainder are chiefly Quakers as dull as Beetles.”22 Whatever his dislike for the current populace, however, Adams and other congressmen had not expected Washington to run from any threat to their seat of government. But Washington had adopted a “Fabian Strategy.”23
20
Dictator Perpetuo
Washington, the “American Cincinnatus,” again borrowed from the wisdom of the Roman Republic. His new defensive strategy was based on that of Quintus Fabius Maximus, the fabled Roman general who successfully wore down the stronger Carthaginian forces during the First Punic War, in the third century B.C. Like the army of Fabius Maximus, Washington’s forces were relatively weak, so rather than risk his army in the all-out defense of Philadelphia or any other location, he would wear down the British by engaging them in smaller battles much as Fabius had done. Washington’s main goal was to preserve his troops, even if that meant ceding land.
Howe indeed had his sights set on Philadelphia, just as Congress feared. Having failed to break the Americans’ will, he was growing less sure of his ability to suppress the rebellion. In December 1776 he had been confident of a speedy end to the war, but by April the next year he concluded, “my hopes of terminating the war this year are vanquished.”1 By retaking much of New Jersey, Washington had thwarted Howe’s plan to conquer the states one by one. In doing so, he made it very clear to Howe that the patriotic fervor was surprisingly durable; thus, Howe decided to strike at its heart. He saw the conquest of their political capital and largest city as a way to break the Americans’ unsinkable spirit. And so the indecisive Howe finally resolved to attack the American political leadership in Philadelphia.
Howe sailed with his armada of a staggering 228 ships from New York, around Washington’s army in New Jersey, and landed near the not-so-bustling capital city. No longer dealing with a subservient commander who obediently followed Congress’s commands, John Adams now wondered, “Will W. attack him? I hope so . . . .”2
While he knew he could not risk his army in a “winner takes all” battle, Washington did resist before ceding Philadelphia to Howe. “Public and Congressional opinion clamored for its defense,” and Washington so obliged.3 He was a deferential dictator, after all. Plus, to avoid battle completely would be disadvantageous, since it would surely breed discontent among his troops and potential recruits.4 As he showed repeatedly, Washington was as idealistic as he was practical.
The commander also had a theatrical side, which he displayed by leading his troops on a choreographed public relations parade through Philadelphia. The townspeople arose at seven o’clock one rainy August morning in 1777 to the sounds of fife and drum, and saw droves of American soldiers marching through their streets. Washington rode his horse in grand ceremonial style, followed by thousands of soldiers. In fact, they had been threatened with thirty-nine lashes should they abandon the parade, so they marched obediently before the admiring crowds who leaned out of Philadelphia’s windows and waved from the rooftops.5 Washington warned the soldiers to follow the drumbeat “without dancing along or totally disregarding the music.”6 Despite their “motley assortment of dress and occasional undress,” the troops “offered an amazing display.”7 Washington sought to exhibit a powerful, trained army that would intimidate the city’s Loyalists and inspire men to join the cause.8
Due to troop reorganization as well as the surging “patriotism” that not-so-magically accompanied the warmer weather each year, Washington’s force had swelled to approximately 11,000 men. But he was still at a great disadvantage. With much of his ill-equipped force composed of unruly militiamen, Washington faced 13,000 well-fed professional soldiers under Howe’s command. Therefore, he resorted to his Fabian hit-and-run campaign, to Congress’s dismay.
Washington confronted Howe at Brandywine Creek on September 11, 1777. In a hard-fought battle, Howe and Cornwallis outgeneraled Washington. Suffering a disastrous 1,000 casualties versus Howe’s 500, the Americans were forced to retreat. But Washington’s focus was to protect his army, not Congress’s capital.
Eager for another victory like those at Trenton and Princeton, Washington attacked Howe yet again at Germantown on October 4, 1777. His overly complicated assault did not go well, however. One early historian vividly captured the scene:the air grew darker as the smoke of the guns, and the still denser smoke of stubble and hay, which the enemy had set fire to, to increase the confusion, mingled with the fog; all hanging over the battle-field in sulphurous folds, which there was no wind to blow aside. And from it came shouts and huzzas, and shrieks and groans, and reverberations of cannon, and the crackling of musketry; and under it the fierce work still went on, the deadly thrust and clash of bayonet, the deadly struggle hand to hand, eyes glaring mortal hate into eyes they had never seen before, and foot sternly pressed on palpitating limbs and bespattering human blood. Look well to it, King George! think well of it under the gilded canopy of your royal closet!9
Rather than risk the rest of his men in further attempts at defending Philadelphia, Washington fled with his battered army twenty miles back to Valley Forge for the winter. He had allowed the British to take the capital.
Howe was delighted with his new prize. He, Mrs. Loring, and his troops eagerly set up camp for the winter in the elegant homes that had been abandoned by the fleeing patriots. Just as
he did in New York, he would enjoy the city’s pleasures with parties and rum. But foremost, he was happy in knowing that he had dealt a psychological blow to the patriots.
Many Americans were indeed gravely disheartened by the loss. Cuttingly, Adams criticized Washington’s “injudicious Maneuvre” and denounced “timorous, defensive [action], which has involved us in so many Disasters.”10 But Washington was unrepentant. He reasoned that “while we have an Army in the field,” Britain’s conquest of the cities “will avail them little. It involves us in difficulty, but does not, by any means, insure them conquest. They will know, that it is our Arms, not defenceless Towns, they have to Subdue, before they can arrive at the haven of their Wishes.”11
While Congress realized that empowering the American commander was necessary to wage war effectively, many remained nervous. Some of the politicians believed that Washington’s “influence was already too great; that even his virtues afforded motives for alarm; that the enthusiasm of the army, joined to the kind of dictatorship already confided to him, put Congress and the United States at his mercy.”12
Some feared that Washington would act less like Cincinnatus than like Julius Caesar, who became dictator perpetuo, or “dictator in perpetuity,” after gaining control of Rome in the first century B.C. Even Adams, who had nominated Washington for the post and defended him, feared that the “Idolatry and Adulation” for Washington might grow “so excessive as to endanger our liberties” and pave the way for monarchy. In fact, Adams went as far as to applaud Washington’s dearth of great victories because it meant the nation could “allow a certain citizen to be wise, virtuous and good without thinking him a deity or a savior.”13
Regardless of their fear, Congress had little choice—a weak American commander would spell defeat. Washington needed to be powerful to fight the return of the British monarchy and so Congress reaffirmed his authority again and again. The states followed suit.
The New York legislature wrote to Congress concerning the fact that they had “invested a military officer with dictatorial powers.”14 Such a declaration would have stirred outrage at the start of the war, but now the Americans were more comfortable with it. New York was acknowledging Washington’s authority rather than criticizing it, and added, “no objection has, that we know of, been made by any State to [this] measure. Hence we venture to conclude, that other States are in sentiment with this.”15 Thus far, Washington had demonstrated that the experimental republican commander could wield expansive military power without undermining civilian rule. And he would continue to do so.
Although he had certainly become more forceful, Washington remained largely respectful of Congress and the other civil authorities. The American commander was a powerful one, but still a republican one. Although he had extensive powers, he need not always use them.
When the army’s chief surgeon recommended establishing military hospitals, Washington responded, “altho’ the Congress have vested me with full powers . . . and I dare say would ratify whatever appointments and Salaries I should fix; yet I do not think myself at liberty to establish Hospitals, upon such extensive plans and at so great an expense, without their concurrence.”16 Washington was being careful not to extend his powers further into matters that were arguably tangential to warfare. He believed that the politicians retained authority over the nation’s purse and was therefore deferential when it came to pecuniary concerns.
Although he had previously promised the soldiers pay raises and had ordered cannon, he generally did not feel that he should spend the states’ and Congress’s money without their approval. “Money matters are not within the Line of my duty,” he wrote, even when they were “intimately connected with all Military Operations.”17 Intent on protecting the republic, this dictator purposefully confined his powers to the military.
Even regarding issues explicitly delegated to him, Washington still acted respectfully. One such issue was AWOL soldiers. Suffering defeat after defeat, Washington faced mass desertion as his exhausted, starving troops grew eager to return to their homes. When a large number of soldiers fled to eastern Pennsylvania, he refused to impose martial law and directly punish them. Congress had granted him power to try deserters, but he did not want to get into the business of hunting down Americans in their own towns. 18 Instead, he left the matter to the civil authorities, whether those authorities were fully functioning or not.
He deferred to local government even if it was “extremely weak” and chaotic, saying, “I am not fully satisfied of the legality of trying an inhabitant of any State by Military Law, when the Civil authority of that State has made provision for the punishment of persons taking Arms with the Enemy.”19 As will be addressed further in Parts IV and V, Washington’s powers over enemies and military tactics were plenary, but he did not see the American commander in chief—even the empowered one that developed over the course of the war—as having authority over American citizens.
Washington also continued to convey his demands with respect for the civil authorities. For example, when he was empowered to call forth militiamen directly from the states, he did so delicately. Demanding soldiers from the states was a worrisome power, and at the beginning of the war it would likely have been perceived as an appalling encroachment on state sovereignty. Now, the states had become more obliging, but Washington was nevertheless sensitive to their concerns. “I would not wish to distress the States, but when there is an absolute necessity,” he wrote almost apologetically; “but from the present poor prospect of an early reinforcement to the Continental Army, I fear I shall be obliged to make the demand. If I do, I am confident that your State, notwithstanding their former exertions will contribute their quota.”20
After Washington’s initial six-month “dictator” term expired, Congress reaffirmed his extensive powers repeatedly throughout the war.21 For example, when Congress contemplated perilous battles in the southern and mid-Atlantic states, they made it clear that they expected their commander to wield great authority and trusted him to do what was best to defend the nation. Specifically, Congress resolved that Washington “consider himself at liberty so to direct the military operations of these states as shall appear to him most expedient.”22 This was indeed a recurring theme.
Confident in their decision to make the American commander into a powerful one, Congress granted Washington additional powers as the war progressed. For example, while Washington had already taken the lead in dealing with captured enemy combatants, Congress explicitly gave him the power to negotiate the exchange of prisoners. Congress also removed a restriction that confined his fighting to the United States theater.23 Washington was finally the master of his troops in conducting an international war.
Whether fighting in the United States or in a foreign nation, the commander in chief had the ultimate say over war tactics. The president of Congress explained to Washington:Congress confide fully in your Excellency’s Prudence and Abilities; and I am directed to signify to you their wish, that neither an undue Degree of Delicacy or Diffidence may lead you to place too little Reliance on your own Judgment, or pursuade you to make any further Communications of your Designs than necessity or high Expedience may dictate.24
And America’s empowered commander in chief used that judgment to make the nation proud.
The founding generation’s understanding of “commander in chief ” developed gradually. At the outset of the war, in addition to appointing officers, Congress retained the “sole and exclusive right and power” to direct military operations.25 They feared that the army would crush the fragile new republic, so they experimented with a weak commander in chief who was essentially a congressional puppet. But their experiment failed. Congress’s attempts to micromanage Washington were a disaster. The limited commander they had envisioned was simply incapable of defending the country. They learned from their mistakes.
The restrictions on Washington’s control over military tactics evaporated as the war progressed and Washington proved that a stron
g commander could still be a republican one. Congress acquiesced to his exercise of greater power and formally granted him more military authority. The shift away from congressional control was made anxiously. But if the American war effort was to overcome its schizophrenia, it needed one master. And that master was Washington.
From this tug of war over military power emerged a strong American commander with broad discretion over military decisions. Congress and the states controlled the military’s purse strings,26 oversaw all civil matters, and expected to be consulted and informed by their commander whenever feasible. For his part, the American commander possessed authority over military tactics and enemy treatment. 27 And Washington used this authority to defend his nation fiercely—and virtuously.
Washington lived up to the challenge of being America’s first republican commander. He promised, “whatever Military Powers shall be intrusted to me, shall ever be exerted first to establish and then protect the Civil.”28 And he lived true to his word, exercising his military powers with great restraint and respect for the civil authorities. “While acting in my Military capacity,” he wrote, “I am sensible of the impropriety of stepping into the line of civil Polity.”29 As will be discussed in greater detail in Parts IV and V, Washington used his expansive mandate to guard the rights of his people rather than trample them. The nation’s worries about a powerful commander subsided.