Washington

by Douglas Southall Freeman

  Wilmington was hospitable and interesting. Washington looked upstream, too, and speculated on the possibility of extending transportation as far inland as Fayetteville, which was described to him as already a “thriving place” with large markets for tobacco and flax seed. From Wilmington the road traversed more stretches of “sand and pine barrens,” though he was told of better farms and a population less sparse back from the traveled route. For part of the way to Georgetown, there were no inns, but, while this compelled Washington to violate his self-imposed rule against the acceptance of private hospitality, the absence of public houses added to the comfort of his travel.

  On April 29 Washington had his first contact with the rich society of South Carolina. This was at Clifton House, the seat of William Alston. Alston had the reputation of being “one of the neatest rice planters in the State of South Carolina and a proprietor of the most valuable ground for the culture of this article.” Washington looked at the plantation with eyes that were keenly appreciative of trees and thriving crops. At Clifton House were Gen. William Moultrie, Col. William Washington and Edward Rutledge, who had come out to escort their State’s guest to Georgetown and thence to Charleston. All three were interesting men. Besides his kinship with the President, William Washington had the fine reputation he had acquired in the main Continental Army and the fame he had won in the Southern Department. Moultrie was an officer of shining reputation, valiantly won. Edward Rutledge was the brother of the Chief Justice of the State, John Rutledge. These gentlemen brought the written greetings of Gov. Charles Cotesworth Pinckney and invitations from him.

  In Georgetown, on the thirtieth, he attended a public dinner and during the afternoon bowed at a tea party to “upwards of fifty ladies.” He interested himself in Georgetown and its waterways, but he felt that the town was overshadowed by Charleston, where he had decided to spend a week. May 1 was given to travel to Gabriel Manigault’s plantation, where Washington spent the night. The next morning began an extraordinary week. The ceremonial crossing from Haddrel’s Point to Charleston harbor was spectacular. A twelve-oared barge was rowed by American sea captains; two boats conveyed musicians; almost all light craft in the vicinity of Charleston attended the President; on approaching Prioleau’s Wharf, Washington received a hearty artillery salute. After a formal landing and welcome, he was driven to the Exchange to see the procession pass and, when the last contingent had saluted him, he went to the residence of Judge Thomas Heyward, which had been leased and adorned for his occupancy.

  MAP / 16

  WASHINGTON’S SOUTHERN TOUR, 1791

  POLITICAL LIFE

  Not even his “triumphant progress” from Mount Vernon to New York in 1789 equalled the entertainment that began the hour he arrived in the Carolina city. He held three receptions, attended two breakfasts, ate seven sumptuous formal dinners, listened and replied to four addresses, was the central figure at two assemblies and a concert, rode through the city, went twice to church, observed and praised a display of fireworks and drank sixty toasts. At the assembly on the evening of May 4, “the ladies,” according to the City Gazette, “were all superbly dressed and most of them wore ribbons with different inscriptions expressive of their esteem and respect for the President such as: ’long live the President,’ etc.” Two evenings later, at the ball given by Governor Pinckney in Washington’s honor, the homage of his feminine admirers was in their hairdress. Nearly all the coiffures included a bandeau or fillet on which was painted a sketch of Washington’s head or some patriotic, sentimental reference to him.

  A different attraction of the city was the line of its defence in the campaign of 1780. With deepest interest, the old Commander-in-Chief went over the ground in the company of General Moultrie and other veterans who knew every foot of it, and he concluded that the defence had been altogether honorable. Other visits of military interest were to Fort Moultrie on Sullivan’s Island and Fort Johnson on James’s Island. Although little remained of these earthworks, Washington had the privilege of hearing the repulse of the British fleet on June 28, 1776, described by General Moultrie, who not only was responsible for it but was able to recount it with the skill of a practiced raconteur.

  En route to Savannah May 9/11 the President violated his rule against the acceptance of lodging at private homes; but he explained this carefully in his diary: He spent one night at Col. William Washington’s plantation, Sandy Hill, from “motives of friendship and relationship,” and he stayed at O’Brien Smith’s on the tenth and Thomas Heyward’s on the eleventh because there were “no public houses on the road.” The next day carried him to the Savannah River at Purysburg, where notables of the fine city downstream were awaiting him with boats for the vehicles and luggage and an eight-oared barge for Washington and the committee. On the way, the President went ashore at Mulberry Grove for a brief visit to the widow of Nathanael Greene. Adversity had overtaken this brilliant woman who had enlivened many a black night in wartime winter quarters. In the brief time Washington had for this first call on her in her southern home, he could not discuss her business affairs, nor would he have talked of them, probably, had his stay been longer, because it was likely he might be called upon, as President, to sign or disapprove legislation for her relief.

  With wind and tide against the bedizened sea captains at the oars, it was 6 P.M. on May 12 when the President reached Savannah, but the townsfolk still were awaiting him. The next two and a half days were crowded with ceremonial, and he visited the scene of the attempt the Comte d’Estaing and General Lincoln made in September-October 1779 to wrest Savannah from the British garrison.

  From Savannah Washington returned by road to Mulberry Grove, dined with Mrs. Greene, and went on to a tavern where he lodged. Thence he rode to Augusta, which he reached May 18. Two days and a half were spent in the enjoyment of the town’s hospitality. Next after Washington left Augusta May 21 was a halt of a day and a half at Columbia, South Carolina, and, unexpectedly, of a second day there because of the bad condition of a horse. Except for a welcoming escort and a public dinner at the unfinished State House, the visit to Columbia was without incident. The miles stretched out northward. An overnight halt and a public dinner at Camden on the twenty-fifth were followed by a careful examination of the ground of the action between Greene and Lord Rawdon April 25, 1781. Farther on Washington viewed the scene of the rout of Gates by Cornwallis August 16, 1780, and later wrote down his conclusion, with generosity towards the American comrade he had distrusted for years:

  As this was a night meeting of both armies on their march and altogether unexpected, each formed on the ground they met without any advantage in it on either side, it being level and open. Had General Gates been half a mile farther advanced, an impenetrable swamp would have prevented the attack which was made on him by the British army, and afforded him time to have formed his own plans; but having no information of Lord Cornwallis’s designs and perhaps not being apprized of this advantage it was not seized by him.

  After Camden, Washington found nothing of importance on the road to Charlotte, North Carolina. Charlotte itself was disappointing but the approaches to it were through better farm lands than Washington had seen in days, and the district between Charlotte and Salisbury seemed to him “very fine.”

  The last day of May brought a journey to Salem, a little Moravian town that gave Washington a welcome thus charmingly described in the diary of the community:

  At the end of this month the congregation of Salem had the pleasure of welcoming the President of the United States, on his return journey from the Southern States. We had already heard that he would return to Virginia by way of our town. This afternoon we heard that this morning he left Salisbury, thirty-five miles from here, so the brethren Marshall, Koehler and Benzien rode out a bit to meet him, and as he approached the town several melodies were played, partly by trumpets and French horns, partly by trombones. He was accompanied only by his Secretary, Major Jackson, and the necessary servants. On alighting from the c
arriage he greeted the bystanders in friendly fashion, and was particularly pleasant to the children gathered there. Then he conversed on various subjects with the brethren who conducted him to the room prepared for him. At first he said that he must go on the next morning, but when he learned that the Governor of our State would like to meet him here the following day he said he would rest here one day. He told our musicians that he would enjoy some music with his evening meal, and was served with it.

  When Gov. Alexander Martin arrived, Washington talked with him about the attitude of the people to the new government. Martin confirmed for his own State all that Colonel Carrington had said of public sentiment in Virginia: opposition and discontent were subsiding fast.

  In the company of the suave, conciliatory Governor, Washington rode on June 2 to Guilford, where he examined the ground of the engagement of March 15, 1781, between Greene and Cornwallis and concluded that “had the troops done their duty properly, the British must have been sorely galled in their advance, if not defeated.” The day after surveying the scene of a tactical defeat that became a strategical victory, Washington bade farewell to Martin and started on the final stage of his journey, a stage broken by no ceremonial of any sort.

  From Guilford the President rode to Dan River, and on to Col. Isaac Coles’s plantation on Staunton River, whence in a single day he proceeded to Prince Edward Court House. By the afternoon of the tenth he was at Kenmore, his sister’s home in Fredericksburg, and on June 12 he ate dinner at his own table in satisfaction over the accuracy of his timing and the sturdiness of his team. He wrote with enthusiasm of the journey:

  . . . it has enabled me to see with my own eyes the situation of the country through which we traveled, and to learn more accurately the disposition of the people than I could have done by any information. The country appears to be in a very improving state, and industry and frugality are becoming much more fashionable than they have hitherto been there. Tranquility reigns among the people, with that disposition towards the general government which is likely to preserve it. They begin to feel the good effects of equal laws and equal protection. The farmer finds a ready market for his produce, and the merchant calculates with more certainty on his payments.

  The journey had shown that the President was as popular in the Southern States as he was in Federalist New England. On the tour he received at least twenty-three addresses, in answering which both he and Major Jackson well might have spent their stock of friendly phrases. Particularly noticeable were the addresses from Lodges of Free Masons. This probably had no significance other than as it disclosed the strength of the Masons in the South and their pride in Washington as a brother. His answers, in turn, were in good Masonic terms, with no casualness in his references to his membership in the Order. Washington himself perhaps was unaware of it, but he was becoming increasingly fond of the homage paid him at assemblies and wherever he made his bow to ladies. Mounted escorts that deepened mud or raised dust were a nuisance, but ladies, handsome, well-dressed ladies who paid him the honor of calling on him . . . well, the Presidency was not altogether without its compensations.

  Washington had transacted little public business on his tour, and he found a heavy accumulation of papers at Mount Vernon. He encountered, besides, a multitude of plantation duties, sadly increased by the progressive illness of George Augustine. Some problems of domestic management at the house in Philadelphia were posed also, in reports from that city.

  A drought had ruined the hay crop and now threatened the oats; but Washington faced his labors with his usual, well-ordered self-discipline and made the most of the fortnight at home before he started for Philadelphia on June 27 by an unfamiliar route. First he went to Georgetown and there had the pleasure of announcing where the public buildings would be located, though, by this time the President was beginning to divest himself of responsibility for the proposed seat of government and passing on the details to Jefferson. Then he proceeded, via Frederick, Maryland, to York and Lancaster, Pennsylvania, two towns he never had visited.

  The week following Washington’s return to Philadelphia on July 6 brought a minor illness and a move by Pennsylvania politicians to construct a new house for the President—an involvement he avoided with some difficulty. These were mere annoyances, though, compared with ominous increase of tension among European countries. The three powers that appeared to be on the verge of renewed conflict happened to be those whose holdings in the northern hemisphere were adjacent to the United States and constituted either a market or a threat or both. England still was in possession of northwestern posts and was suspected of inspiring Indian raids. Spain’s hold on the Mississippi and her occupation of New Orleans and Florida gave her a position as formidable as that of the British in Canada. France was in convulsion at home and was facing a frightful slave insurrection in Santo Domingo, her richest West Indian possession.

  War among these powers might be ruinous to American foreign trade. Even the possibility of a coalition between Britain and Spain, with France as their common adversary, would expose all three of the land frontiers of the United States to danger at the same time that it might involve a call by France for America to fulfill the military alliance of 1778. These were contingencies Washington faced without self-deception and with little or no prejudice. Towards them he applied certain clear principles. Efforts must be made to effect peace with the Indians by formal treaties that acknowledged the natives’ territorial rights and assured American recognition of them, and Indians who chose war instead of peace were to be punished with vigor and severity; so young and weak a republic as America must keep out of foreign wars if this could be done with honor and self-respect; achievement of peace depended on drawing a distinction between conflicts with foreign interests in America and American interference in Europe; balanced policy had to be pursued separately and patiently with each of the three powers. Methods might be different; the basis of bargaining might be shifted; the goal was the same—peace, progress and the deserved larger respect of European countries.

  In applying these broad rules to Britain, Washington could not disregard the feelings of his fellow countrymen who were resisting what he believed to be the general desire of peace. Something had to be conceded to the old American resentment. Said Washington:

  There are . . . bounds to the spirit of forbearance which ought not to be exceeded. Events may occur which demand a departure from it. But if extremities are at any time to ensue, it is of the utmost consequence that they should be the result of a deliberate plan, not of an accidental collision; and that they should appear both at home and abroad to have flowed either from a necessity which left no alternative, or from a combination of advantageous circumstances which left no doubt of the expediency of hazarding them. Under the impression of this opinion and supposing that the event which is apprehended should be realized, it is my desire that no hostile measure be in the first instance attempted.

  An understanding with Spain manifestly was difficult: Obscurity surrounded the designs of Gov. Estéban Rodriguez Miró. Dr. James O’Fallon, perhaps the most active of the frontier adventurers at this time, had been operating for the South Carolina Yazoo Company and had been loud in his professions of loyalty to the United States; but there had been suspicion that he planned to seize a region that had been acknowledged by the American government to be an Indian possession. Concern had been felt that this man might precipitate a frontier war and even might involve the country in hostilities with Spain. A proclamation against O’Fallon’s activities and an order for his arrest seemed enough in the spring of 1791. Thereafter Washington gave first place in Spanish negotiations to the removal of the suspicion that the young Western Republic was eyeing covetously the Spanish West Indies.

  Washington continued to follow the progress of the Revolution in France with sharpest interest, but he confessed his anxiety regarding “indiscriminate violence” from the “tumultuous populace of large cities.” He wrote to the Marquis de la Luzerne:

 
; . . . however gloomy the face of things may at this time appear in France, yet we will not despair of seeing tranquility again restored; and we cannot help looking forward with a lively wish to the period when order shall be established by a government respectfully energetic and founded on the broad basis of liberality and the rights of man, which will make millions happy and place your nation in the rank which she ought to hold.

  Patience was needed if this was to be achieved, and patience America had to display in dealing with abrupt changes of policy under the revolutionary government. The new French Minister to the United States, Jean Baptiste Ternant, was received cordially and with personal consideration. The utmost was to be done in complying with a French request for money and arms to combat the slave insurrection in Santo Domingo. No advantage was to be taken of France by repaying the American debt in depreciated assignats. Friendliness was shown in the rejection of a dubious refunding plan submitted by European speculators.

  Such was the simple, prudent foreign policy Washington adopted on his return to Philadelphia. It was a policy that had to be applied as opportunity offered, with respect to Britain and Spain, but it was imperative and immediate where Santo Domingo was concerned. Moreover, charges of British incitation of Indian warfare were about to be put to test. The Commander-in-Chief knew St. Clair had no experience in this type of warfare and repeated the warning he so often had given officers entrusted with troops in the wilderness: Beware of surprise. St. Clair at the proper time, presented a plan for establishing a military post at the so-called “Miami Village” as a means of over-awing nearby Indian tribes and showing the British that the United States had no intention of abandoning that rich area to the King. The proposal was thought a good one and was taken up and entrusted to St. Clair, who was recommissioned at his wartime rank of Major General. His instructions were “to establish a strong and permanent military post” and, after garrisoning it adequately, “seek the enemy” and “endeavor by all possible means to strike them with great severity.”