The Man Who Could Be King: A Novel

by John Ripin Miller

  A FURTHER MUTINY, PAGE 173

  Josiah talks of a later spring Pennsylvania mutiny involving fifteen hundred troops put down by Washington. Such a mutiny took place, as well as still another mutiny in August 1783, leading Congress to plead with Washington to move his remaining troops to Rocky Hill, New Jersey, in order to protect Congress from soldiers still again asking for more back pay.

  LINCOLN’S VENERATION OF WASHINGTON, PAGE 178

  Josiah observes that his congressman, Abraham Lincoln, claimed that the gold ring he wore contained a piece of Washington’s hair. A later president, William McKinley, claimed that a ring given to him by Lincoln’s secretary, John Hay, was embedded with several strands of Washington’s hair. Today, this may all seem unlikely or bizarre, but we must remember the hold that Washington had on the American populace in the nineteenth century. (For a description of such practices, including rings containing relics of Washington, see Stanley Weintraub, General Washington’s Christmas Farewell, 66, 67.)

  THE QUOTES FROM KING GEORGE III AND NAPOLEON, PAGES 179

  For years, the quote from George III that if Washington turns down the kingship, “he will be the greatest man in the world” has survived and embellished Washington’s reputation. (See Ellis, His Excellency, 139. Recently the Washington Papers at the University of Virginia explored the background of this quote. It was originally attributed to a conversation between American artist Benjamin West and George III.)

  We now know that the heavily-used conversation between King George III and West gained its foothold in history because Joseph Farington (1747–1821), a second-tier British artist, met West on December 28, 1799, and then wrote in his diary entry for that date West’s recollection of an exchange with the King during the early summer of 1782 . . . Despite the gap of some seventeen years from the time of the actual event and West’s recollection, it is plausible to believe its authenticity and veracity . . . Farington definitely knew West very well and was a faithful diarist. If only such a level of confidence could be felt about all anecdotes and stories concerning George Washington in wide circulation! (See the Washington Papers at the University of Virginia Newsletter, no. 12, Spring 2011.)

  THE TRIBUTES TO WASHINGTON, PAGES 179-81

  In addition to the tributes to Washington from Abraham Lincoln and King George III, the tributes from Fisher Ames, Gerald Vogel, Lord Byron, Philip Freneau, and others are accurately quoted here. It is impossible for us today to appreciate the outpouring of encomiums while he lived and the eulogies after his death. Not even the eulogies for President Kennedy come close in their depth and variety. “Some clergymen wanted to insert his [Washington’s] farewell address into the Bible as an epilogue. ‘Every American considers it his sacred duty to have a likeness of Washington in his home, just as we have images of God’s saints,’ observed a European traveler” (Ron Chernow, Washington, 813).

  DID WASHINGTON CONSIDER LEADING A COUP?, WHOLE NOVEL

  This question is, of course, at the heart of this novel. Historians have differed over whether a coup would have succeeded with Washington’s leadership or even without it. But I am not aware of many historians who have focused at length on whether Washington considered the possibility and, if so, how seriously. Given the evidence adduced in this novel of actual letters from Nicola, Duché, Varnum, etc., urging Washington to take power (we do not know how many other letters there were, but we can assume there were many), the constant oral urgings that aides such as Josiah witnessed and we know took place, and the whole climate of the country, how come this question has received so little emphasis from historians?

  I believe the answer lies not with historians ignoring the evidence but with the reasonable assumption that since Washington rejected the offer at Newburgh, that since we know him to be so dedicated to setting up a republic, and that since we believe him to be a man of impeccable integrity and character, it is just beyond us to consider possibilities that would substantially reshape the narrative of our nation’s founding or our Founding Father. But as I’ve alluded to in the Afterword and as Josiah observes in the Epilogue, rather than detract from Washington’s character or his commitment to our republic, Washington’s wrestling with whether to become king or dictator, and then turning away from those outcomes, only enhances both his character and the nation’s commitment to civilian supremacy over the military. (See Ellis’s His Excellency, 140–44.)

  And why shouldn’t Washington have considered accepting a crown? Would you not consider such a possibility when, everywhere you turn, you read letters from officers suggesting it is your duty to save the nation by becoming king, you hear toasts to yourself instead of George III, and you see signs such as the one outside the tavern the General and Josiah observed? As Josiah says, Washington should be honored (and was honored in the eighteenth century) less for what he did and more for what he did not do. This is something that is outside our twentieth- and twenty-first-century frame of reference. We judge leaders, whether they be generals or presidents, by what they do or promise to do. But can we name one great American leader whom we honor for what he or she did not do? This is what makes Washington the truly unique American leader.

  APPENDIX B

  DOCUMENTS LEADING UP TO AND INCLUDING THE WEEK OF MARCH 9, 1783, AT NEWBURGH, NEW YORK

  (Some Corrections Are Made to Make the Documents Understandable in Modern English)

  LETTER FROM REVEREND JACOB DUCHÉ OF PHILADELPHIA, FIRST CHAPLAIN OF FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS, TO GENERAL GEORGE WASHINGTON ON OCTOBER 8, 1777

  IF this letter should find you in council, or in the field, before you read another sentence I beg you to take the first opportunity of retiring and weighing it’s important contents.—You are perfectly acquainted with the part I formerly took in the present unhappy contest . . .

  [Reverend Duché here alludes to his role as the first chaplain of the First Continental Congress and describes his reluctance to join the War for Independence.]

  And now, dear Sir, suffer me, in the language of truth and real affection, to address myself to you. All the world must be convinced you are engaged in the service of your country from motives perfectly disinterested. You risked every thing that was dear to you, abandoned the sweets of domestic life, which your affluent fortune can give the uninterrupted enjoyment of . . .

  [The reverend, after describing more the risk of pursuing independence, turns to the decline of the Congress, the poor state of the military, and the perilous condition of the country.]

  What then can be the consequence of this rash and violent measure and degeneracy of representation, confusion of councils, blunders without number? The most respectable characters have withdrawn themselves, and are succeeded by a great majority of illiberal and violent men. Take an impartial view of the present Congress, and what can you expect from them? Your feelings must be greatly hurt by the representation of your natural province. You have no longer a Randolph, a Bland, or a Braxton, men whose names will ever be revered, whose demands never ran above the first ground on which they set out, and whose truly glorious and virtuous sentiments I have frequently heard with rapture from their own lips.—Oh! my dear Sir, what a sad contrast of characters now present . . . As to those of my own province, some of them are so obscure, that their very names were never in my ears before, and others have only been distinguished for the weakness of their understandings, and the violence of their tempers . . .

  After this view of the Congress, turn to the Army.—The whole world knows that its only existence depends upon you; that your death or captivity disperses it in a moment, and that there is not a man on that side of the question in America, capable of succeeding you.—As to the army itself, what have you to expect from them.—Have they not frequently abandoned you yourself, in the hour of extremity? Can you, have you the least confidence in a set of undisciplined men and officers, many of them have been taken from the lowest of the people, without principle, without courage; take away them who surround your person, How very few are there y
ou can ask to sit at your table?—As to your little navy, of that little, what is left? Of the Delaware fleet part are taken, the rest must soon surrender—Of those in the other provinces some are taken, one or two at sea, and others lying unmanned and unrigged in your harbours; and now where are your resources? Oh my dear Sir, How sadly have you been abused by a faction void of truth, and void of tenderness to you and your country! . . . A British army, after having passed unmolested thro a vast extent of country, have possessed themselves of the Capital of America. How unequal the contest! How fruitless the expence of blood? Under so many discouraging circumstances, can Virtue, can Honour, can the Love of your Country, prompt you to proceed? Humanity itself, and sure humanity is no stranger to your breast, calls upon you to desist.—Your army must perish for want of common necessaries, or thousands of innocent families must perish to support them; where-ever they encamp, the country must be impoverished; wherever they march, the troops of Britain will pursue, and must complete the destruction which America herself has began; perhaps it may be said, it is better to die than to be made slaves. This indeed is a splendid maxim in theory, and perhaps in some instances may be found experimentally true; but when there is the least probability of an happy accommodations, surely wisdom and humanity call for some sacrifices to be made, to prevent inevitable destruction. You well know there is but one invincible bar to such an accommodation, could this be removed, other obstacles might readily be removed.

  [The reverend then proposes what he sees as the only way out of the country’s dilemma: for the General, as the revered guardian of the country, to urge upon the Congress rescission of the Declaration of Independence accompanied by negotiations and, if this failed, to pursue negotiations as the head of the army. Such action, writes the reverend, would give the General a lustrous place in the annals of our history.]

  It is to you, and you alone, your bleeding country looks and calls aloud for this sacrifice, your arm alone has strength sufficient to remove this bar; may heaven inspire you with this glorious resolution of exerting your strength at this crisis, and immortalizing yourself as friend and guardian to your country; your penetrating eye needs not more explicit language to discern my meaning; with that prudence and delicacy therefore, of which I know you possessed, represent to Congress the indispensible necessity of rescinding the hasty and ill-advised declaration of Independency—Recommend, and you have an undoubted right to recommend, an immediate cessation of hostilities. Let the controversy be taken up where that declaration left it, and where Lord Howe certainly expected to find it left. Let men of clear and impartial characters, in or out of Congress liberal in their sentiments, heretofore, independent in their fortunes; and some such may be found in America, be appointed to confer with his Majesty’s commissioners. Let them, if they please, prepare, some well-digested constitutional plan, to lay before them at the commencement of the negotiation; when they have gone this far, I am confident the usual happy consequences will ensue; unanimity will immediately take place through the different provinces; thousands who are now ardently wishing and praying for such a measure, will step forth, and declare themselves the zealous advocates, for constitutional liberty, and millions will bless the hero that left the field of war, to decide this most important contest with the weapons of wisdom and humanity. Oh! Sir, let no false ideas of worldly honour deter you from engaging in so glorious a task, whatever centuries may be thrown out, by mean illiberal minds, your character will rise in the estimation of the virtuous and noble; it will appear with lustre in the annals of history, and form a glorious contrast, to that of those, who have fought to obtain conquest, and gratify their own ambition by the destruction of their species, and the ruin of their country. Be assured, Sir, that I write not this under the eye of any British officer, or person connected with the British army, or ministry. The sentiments I express, are the real sentiments of my own heart, such as I have long held, and which I should have made known to you by letter before, had I not fully expected an opportunity of a private conference . . .

  I love my country. I love you; but the love of truth, the love of peace, and the love of God, I hope I should be enabled, if called upon to the tryal, to sacrifice every other inferior love. If the arguments made use of in this letter should have so much influence as to engage you in the glorious work, which I have warmly recommended, I shall ever deem my success the highest temporal favour that Providence could grant me. Your interposition and advice, I am confident, would meet a favourable reception from the authority under which you act, if it should not, you have an infallible recourse still left, negociate for your country at the head of your army. After all it may appear presumption as an individual to address himself to you on a subject of such magnitude, or to say what measures would best secure the interest and welfare of a whole continent. The friendly and favourable opinion you have always expressed for me, emboldens me to undertake it, and which has greatly added to the weight of this motive; I have been strongly impressed with a sense of duty upon the occasion, which left my conscience uneasy, and my heart afflicted till I fully discharged it. I am no enthusiast; the cause is new and singular to me, but I could not enjoy one moment’s peace till this letter was written, with the most ardent prayers for your spiritual, as well as temporal welfare.

  LETTER FROM COLONEL LEWIS NICOLA TO GEORGE WASHINGTON ON MAY 22, 1782

  The injuries the troops have received in their pecuniary rights have been, & still continue to be too obvious to require a particular detail, or to have escaped your Excellencies notice, tho your exalted station must have deprived you of opportunity of information relative to the severe distresses occasioned thereby . . .

  [Colonel Nicola writes at length of the injuries caused to soldiers by the failure of Congress and the states to meet their financial promises. He then moves on to discuss the possible consequences.]

  From several conversations I have had with officers, & some I have overheard among soldiers, I believe it is generally intended not to seperate after the peace ’till all grievances are redressed, engagements & promises fulfilled, but how this is to be done I am at a loss, as neither officers nor soldiers can have any confidence in promises. We have no doubt of Congresses intention to act uprightly, but greatly fear that, by the interested voices of others, their abilities will not be equal to the task.

  God forbid we should ever think of involving that country we have, under your conduct & auspices, rescued from oppression, into a new scene of blood & confusion; but it cannot be expected we should forego claims on which our future subsistence & that of our families depend.

  Another difference there is between our fellow citizens and us is, that we must live under governments in the forming of which we had no hand, nor were consulted either personally nor representatively, being engaged in preventing the enemy from disturbing those bodies which were entrusted with that business, the members of which would have found little mercy had they been captured . . .

  [Before offering his solution to this problem, Colonel Nicola writes that he first wishes to discuss why he does not support the republican form of government. He goes on to discuss the weaknesses of absolute monarchy while acknowledging the strengths of the British version of monarchy.]

  Dangers foreseen may be removed, alleviated, or in some cases, turned to benefits, possibly what I appreciate may be susceptible, of even the latter, by means I beg leave to propose, but must request your Excellencies patience if I digress a little before I open my prospect.

  I own I am not that violent admirer of a republican form of government as numbers in this country are; this is not owing to caprice, but reason & experience. Let us consider the fate of all the modern republicks of any note without running into antiquity, which I think would also serve to establish my system.

  The republicks of later days, worth our notice, may be reduced to three, Venice, Genoa & Holland, tho the two former are rather aristocratical than republican governments, yet they resemble those more than monarchical.


  These have, each in their turns, shone with great brightness, but their lustre has been of short duration, and as it were only a blaze. What figure has Holland, that, in his infancy, successfully opposed the most formidable powers of Europe, made for more than half of the present century, or actually makes at present? Mistress of nearly half the commerce of the earth, has she occasioned any considerable diversion of the naval power of Britain? Six or eight ships of the line have been able to oppose her, & unable to protect herself and her extensive commerce, has she not been obliged to apply for assistance to a neighbouring monarch? Does not the great similarity there is between her form of government & ours give us room to fear our fate will be like hers. Has it not evidently appeared that during the course of this war we have never been able to draw forth all the internal resources we are possessed of, and oppose or attack the enemy with our real vigour?

  In contrast to this scene let us consider the principal monarchies of Europe, they have suffered great internal commotions, have worried each other, have had periods of vigour & weakness, yet they still subsist & shine with lustre. It must not be concluded from this that I am a partisan for absolute monarchy, very far from it, I am sensible of all its defects, the only conclusion I would draw from the comparison is, that the energy of the latter is more beneficial to the existence of a nation than the wisdom of the former. A monarch may often be governed by wise & moderate councels, but it is hardly possible for large bodies to plan or execute vigorous ones.

  The inference I would deduce from what I have premised is, that each form of government has its defective & valuable parts, therefore, that form which partakes of all, or most of the latter & is purged of the former, must be the most eligible.

  In the british Government we have a sketch of this, far, it is true from perfect, but no despicable basis of a good one. The english constitution has been the result of repeated struggles between prince & people, but never received anything of a regular or stable form till the revolution, & yet is still short of perfection. The principal defects are pointed out by the experience of almost a century, & I believe may be reduced to two, one in the legislative the other in the executive authorities. Were elections annual, & confined to representatives for counties & few large trading cities only, & all contributing to the support of government priviledged to elect, and had the king no command of money beyond what is requisite to the support of his family & court, suitable to the dignity of his station, I believe the constitution would approach much nearer to that degree of perfection to which sublunary things are limited. In a well regulated legislative body I conceive a third branch necessary. Montesquieu observes that a hereditary nobility is requisite in a monarchy but incompatible with a republick, taking this for granted, some degree of nobility may be proper in a mixed government, but limited, suppose not hereditary.