George Washington

by David O. Stewart

  * * *

  Washington enjoyed a vibrant social life in Philadelphia. On at least fifty days, he dined with the Morrises, most often with invited guests. He dined out eleven times with other delegates, “club style” (that is, the diners dividing the bill equally among them). Thrice he ate with Franklin, attended six formal dinners with organizations like the St. Patrick Society, and on more than twenty occasions joined private dinner parties outside the Morris residence. Though he had many opportunities to huddle with other delegates, there is no evidence that he discussed the convention’s business outside its formal proceedings.

  He resumed friendships formed during previous Philadelphia visits, particularly with Samuel and Elizabeth Powel. Samuel shared Washington’s passion for farming, while Elizabeth was recognized as a New World salonnière. “She has wit and a good memory,” a French visitor recorded, “speaks well and talks a great deal.”17

  Washington attended four public performances during the summer: a concert, a reading, and two plays. On one afternoon he reviewed the city troops. On three days he sat for another portrait by Charles Willson Peale, who built a prosperous trade selling a full range of Washington likenesses. Peale would sell prints of this new portrait for $1 without frame and $2 framed. To a correspondent, Washington apologized for failing to write due to “my attendance in convention—morning business, receiving and returning visits” and all those dinners.18

  Washington escaped the city when he could. On a half dozen days, he dined beyond the city limits with the Springsbury Club, a group of wealthy Philadelphians, and also rode through the countryside on at least nine other occasions.

  The ten-day recess that began in late July was too brief for a visit to Mount Vernon, so Washington took two fishing trips to nearby waters. On both excursions, he questioned local farmers about their methods, and visited sites from the war, riding through the encampment at Valley Forge and the site of his victory at Trenton on Christmas 1776.19

  The delegates returned from recess to confront the draft Constitution prepared by the five-man Committee of Detail. On August 6, the summer’s business assumed a new gravity when the draft was read aloud and distributed. The delegates held in their hands the embryo of a new government.

  * * *

  For the next six weeks, they addressed the draft’s twenty-three articles, probing for errors, omissions, unforeseen consequences, and disadvantages for their home states. Gouverneur Morris provoked a battle when he denounced the protections for slavery and the slave trade. Slavery, he thundered, was a “nefarious institution—it was the curse of heaven.”

  Morris’s tirade stirred delegates from northern and middle states. They questioned the draft’s perpetual protection for importing slaves, and the requirement that laws regulating commerce receive a two-thirds vote in each house of Congress. A committee cobbled together another compromise, reducing the protection for slave imports to a fixed term of years (ultimately, twenty) and ditching the two-thirds requirement for commercial laws.20

  The delegates’ impatience to go home was at war with the importance of their work. Washington was among the impatient, complaining that the work progressed by “slow, I wish I could add and sure, movements.” If the final product had defects, he added, they would not be due “to the hurry with which the business has been conducted.”21

  Washington may have wished to finish quickly because the emerging Constitution already incorporated the features he most wanted: a power to levy taxes, a true executive branch, and congressional authority over commercial matters. The draft stated that the national government’s laws and treaties “shall be the supreme law,” binding on state courts and overriding state statutes. He might disagree with specific features of the draft charter, but he had what he wanted on the major questions.22

  That Washington liked the draft Constitution is evident in his focus on the process for ratification. The Articles of Confederation were failing because amendments required a unanimous vote of the states. Unanimity was an impossible standard. Rhode Island had boycotted this convention and New York had left it. Acknowledging that reality, the convention agreed that ratification by nine states would suffice to bring the new government into being. According to James McHenry of Maryland, who sat next to the Virginians in the convention, Washington thought that seven states should be enough to ratify.23

  Concern for ratification also lay behind a statement Washington made on the convention’s final day, his only substantive remarks on the convention floor. Nine days before, the delegates had rejected a motion to reduce the size of congressional districts from 40,000 to 30,000 residents. When that motion was renewed on September 17, Washington endorsed it, explaining that objections to the Constitution should “be made as few as possible.” Smaller congressional districts, he said, would provide greater “security for the rights and interests of the people.” The motion passed by acclamation without further debate.24

  The delegates then turned to the formalities. Despite appeals for unanimity, three refused to sign: Elbridge Gerry of Massachusetts, and Randolph and Mason of Virginia. They thought the Senate was too powerful, wished for less congressional power over trade, and wanted a bill of rights. Nevertheless, all eleven state delegations signed, as did Hamilton, though he lacked the authority to act alone on behalf of New York. The punctilious Washington recorded in his diary that the Constitution was signed by “11 states and Colonel Hamilton.”25

  After a farewell dinner at the City Tavern, Washington retired to his room at the Morris home. The convention’s secretary brought him the convention’s official records for safekeeping. Washington used the evening to “meditate on the momentous work which had been executed,” a meditation that likely included the thoughts he shared two months later with an English historian. The delegates had conciliated “various and opposite interests,” he wrote, and subdued local prejudices. “In a work of so intricate and difficult a nature,” he concluded, the wonder was “that anything could have been produced with such unanimity.”26

  Washington was staking his place in history on that document. As one historian has written recently, “at core this was Washington’s Constitution, especially with respect to the presidency.” Washington’s signature appeared first on it, and also was affixed to the cover letter to Congress. It was the signature that mattered most to Americans, and it told them that Washington recommended they scrap the loose ties created by the Articles of Confederation and embrace this stronger form of government. To secure the power of that signature, Madison, Knox, Jay, Hamilton, and Randolph had pleaded for him to participate in the convention. But still the Constitution had to be ratified by at least nine states. Washington would be central to that effort.27

  He started preparing for his return to Mount Vernon in mid-August, when he sent home a dog for Martha, a cupola and spire for the house, and a bust of naval hero John Paul Jones (a gift from Jones). He had kept up with the weekly farm reports, while his money anxiety never eased. He complained that he could “see no more than the man in the moon where I am to get money to pay my taxes.”28

  On the journey home, near the Maryland-Delaware border, he mistrusted a bridge that passed over a surging stream. He stepped out of the carriage and sent it across first. One of the horses stumbled and fell fifteen feet from the span; the other horse almost followed him, which would have crashed the carriage into the water. Luckily, the second horse held his footing, the first was cut from his halter and guided across the stream, and the carriage survived. In reporting the mishap, a Philadelphia newspaper recalled the sermon preached after Braddock’s defeat in 1755, which had predicted that Washington’s life was spared to perform a great national service. Was the same providential hand still at work, the newspaper asked, “for the great and important purpose of establishing, by his name and future influence, a government that will render safe and permanent the liberties of America?”29

  Chapter 41

  A
Working Politician

  Shortly after arriving home, Washington sent the Constitution to three former Virginia governors with similar cover letters. He wished the charter were “more perfect,” he wrote, “but I sincerely believe it is the best that could be obtained.” Without a new constitution, “anarchy soon would have ensued,” and the nation’s future was still “suspended by a thread.” That thread was ratification by the states.1

  If ratification failed, disunion seemed likely, civil war and European intervention possible. The Confederation government was disappearing. Congress managed to enact the Northwest Ordinance while the Philadelphia Convention met, but then lost its purpose. “The prospect of a new Constitution,” the president of Congress wrote in early 1788, “seems to deaden the activity of the human mind as to other matters.”2

  Washington expected ratification battles and soon was at the center of them. His support for the Constitution was essential, Hamilton wrote, due to his “universal popularity.” Newspapers stressed the public trust he earned by retiring after the war. “Is it possible,” a Philadelphia newspaper asked in October 1787, “that the deliverer of our country would have recommended an unsafe form of government?” Gouverneur Morris reported that Washington’s signature on the document “has been of infinite service.” Newspaper essayists repeatedly invoked his approval of the Constitution as a reason to ratify it.3

  From Mount Vernon, he tracked the contest through correspondence and newspaper reports. “I never saw him so keen for anything in my life,” a visitor reported. Through ten months of drama over ratification, he urged that the Constitution be adopted in scores of letters to friends and acquaintances. When a newspaper, without authorization, published a letter of his that endorsed ratification, he regretted only that he had not composed a better letter. Forty-nine other newspapers reprinted it. Everyone but Washington acknowledged he would be president. As Morris wrote, “Your cool steady temper is indispensably necessary.” Morris compared the states to thirteen horses. Once they were trained, a child might manage them, but only Washington could train them.4

  Madison sought congressional approval for the Constitution, but the best he could wheedle from that hesitant body was the simple transmission of the charter to the state conventions. Washington, cheerleader and coach, stressed that although Congress’s action was insipid, at least its vote was unanimous. “The multitude,” he observed, “often judge from externals, [so] the appearance of unanimity” had value. Madison pronounced the ratification strategy: Win nine state approvals quickly and leave the “tardy remainder” to straggle into the union. Because Rhode Island had boycotted the convention, it certainly would not ratify any time soon; the Constitution would fail if four other states took the same view.5

  Recognizing that newspaper essays would sway opinion, Washington urged the recruitment of “good pens” to support ratification. Hamilton launched an essay series under the name “Publius,” which grew into the landmark Federalist Papers. With a major contribution from Madison, and a small one from Jay, eighty-five essays totaling 190,000 words became classics of American political writing. Washington encouraged its distribution in newspapers and in bound volumes.6

  By early January, five states had ratified by wide margins.7 But opposition was forming. Opponents urged that a second convention be summoned to correct the errors of the first. Washington thought that proposal was a stall, designed to bleed momentum from the pro-Constitution movement. Leading Virginians—George Mason and Benjamin Harrison, Richard Henry Lee and Patrick Henry—embraced the objections announced by the non-signers in Philadelphia: There was no declaration of rights, the Senate or the judiciary were too strong, or Congress’s commercial power could harm the South. To counter them, Washington worked to entice Edmund Randolph to reverse his position and embrace ratification.8

  With a shrewd sense of how to shape public opinion, Washington urged allies to frame the ratification decision with simple questions:

  Is the Constitution . . . preferable to the government . . . under which we now live?

  Is it probable that . . . there would be a better agreement [from a second convention]?

  Is there not a constitutional door open for alterations and amendments?9

  In Washington’s view, a fair-minded person would agree that the answers to the first and third questions were yes, while the second would bring a resounding no, which demonstrated that ratification was the only sensible course to follow.

  In February 1788, the Massachusetts convention took center stage. Former Shays rebels distrusted a stronger government. The state’s pro-ratification forces, assuming the name “Federalists,” chose to debate the Constitution sentence by sentence, but made little headway. Washington’s pro-ratification letter to a Massachusetts friend arrived too late to help. Nonetheless, his voice was heard when nine Massachusetts newspapers published an earlier letter endorsing the Constitution because “there is no alternative between the adoption of it and anarchy.” Washington’s support for the Constitution was so well known that one of those newspapers proposed that Federalists adopt the name “Washingtonians.” Massachusetts Federalists tried a second tactic, having the convention recommend amendments to the Constitution, though the state’s ratification would remain effective even if the amendments never were approved. By giving opponents a method for venting their dissatisfactions, that “recommendatory amendment” approach produced a narrow majority for ratification: 187–168.10

  Washington was totally engaged in the struggle over ratification. “The Constitution and its circumstances,” wrote his secretary from Mount Vernon, “have been almost the sole topics of conversation here for some months past.” Visitors numbering “the first and best informed” shared their news and analysis with Washington. They left knowing that the general considered the Constitution “the rock of our political salvation.”11

  Unexpectedly, Federalists in New Hampshire adjourned their convention because they feared they were about to lose the ratification vote. Madison, on his way home to stand for election to the Virginia convention in late March, stopped at Mount Vernon to strategize with the chief. They were worried.12 Washington put his shoulder to the wheel, encouraging friends at the Maryland convention to resist a delay proposed by anti-ratification forces. Flaunting Washington’s letter, Maryland Federalists won easily. In late May, South Carolina ratified too.13

  That made eight states. Federalists needed to win one of the remaining five. New York and Rhode Island were very unlikely to ratify, while North Carolina was leaning anti. The contest was coming down to New Hampshire and Virginia.

  The campaign had been a roller-coaster ride, with prospects shifting from week to week. One day, Virginia was said to be safe because of votes from western delegates (representing the future states of Kentucky and West Virginia), but then the westerners turned out to be as divided as other delegates were. Federalist hopes in Virginia revived when Randolph reversed himself and backed ratification. Washington longed for victory. Ratification, he wrote to Lafayette, “will be so much beyond anything we had a right to imagine or expect eighteen months ago.”14

  The Virginia convention pitted the electrifying Patrick Henry against the cerebral Madison. That confrontation looked like a mismatch, especially when Madison fell ill, but the small man soldiered on, unintimidated by Henry’s eloquence. At Mount Vernon, Washington received updates from Madison and nephew Bushrod, also a delegate. To escape the waiting, Washington visited his mother and sister in Fredericksburg. When he returned home, he found Madison’s disconcerting report: “The business is in the most ticklish state that can be imagined. The majority will certainly be small on whatever side it may finally lie.”15

  Washington replied fondly to his hardworking champion. To cure Madison’s illness, he prescribed relaxation at Mount Vernon with “moderate exercise, and books occasionally, with the mind unbent.” He added, “no one will be happier in yo
ur company than your sincere and affectionate servant.” When rains kept Washington indoors, the waiting was more difficult. “I am,” he groused, “in a manner drowned.”16

  When he wrote those words, Washington did not know that New Hampshire had ratified on June 21, creating the new government. The outcome in Virginia still mattered. It was the largest state, and Washington could not be president unless Virginia joined the union. Four days later, Madison reported ratification by a narrow 89–79 vote, plus a pile of recommendatory amendments.17

  The glorious news reached Alexandria late on June 27. Next morning, a delegation arrived at Mount Vernon to escort Washington to the town’s celebration. Since word had also arrived of New Hampshire’s ratification, cannon boomed ten times to honor each ratifying state. Food, drink, music, and dancing filled the day. Within a month, New York also ratified.18

  Washington offered a measured tribute to his fellow citizens. “By folly and misconduct,” he wrote, “we may now and then get bewildered, but I hope and trust that there is good sense and virtue enough left to bring us back into the right way before we shall be entirely lost.”19

  Virginia’s ratification was Madison’s heroic moment, but Washington’s influence had been crucial. When Henry had described Jefferson as no friend of the Constitution, Madison had instantly fired back, “Could we not adduce a character equally great on our side?” They certainly could. An Anti-Federalist in Richmond complained that “were it not for one great character in America, so many men would not be for this government.” James Monroe stressed Washington’s importance. “Be assured,” he wrote to Jefferson, “his influence carried this government.”20

  Through the convention and ratification, Washington focused always on the need for a “respectable” government that could tax and govern. Of the more than two hundred recommendatory amendments proposed by various state conventions, he opposed only those that would strengthen the states or limit the power to tax. “I was ready,” he wrote to Jefferson, “to have embraced any tolerable compromise that was competent to save us from impending ruin.”21