Topic: Politics

When the Patriots Went to War at Sea

by Dana Stefanelli, Assistant Editor
October 11, 2017

The 18th-century British navy ruled the waves, and George Washington’s Continental forces could not have hoped to win the Revolutionary War against such a power without the help of the French navy. Overshadowed in this narrative are Continental efforts to develop a fleet.

In April 1778, Continental Navy sloop of war Ranger captured British HMS Drake off the coast of Ireland. Image painted by Arthur N. Disney. Courtesy of Naval History and Heritage Command (NH 81541-KN).

A nominal Continental navy was formed in 1775, but privateers sympathetic to the Revolutionary cause proved more effective. Financed by private citizens and authorized by various states, these vessels preyed on vulnerable British ships and distracted imperial officials. The celebrated victory of John Paul Jones in the Bonhomme Richard over the Serapis on Sept. 23, 1779, boosted Continental navy credibility and public morale. Certainly with undue optimism, the Continental government set about building a 74-gun warship, America.  It was not completed, however, until 1782, when the war was winding down.

Early in the war, several states had tried to fill the vacuum by employing their own navies, apart from the privateers they authorized. Advocates for a true Continental navy–among them John Adams of Massachusetts, Stephen Hopkins of Rhode Island, Samuel Chase of Maryland, and William Gadsden of South Carolina–generally represented states with significant sea-trade communities. Delegates from other states saw warship building as a wasteful extravagance, and too risky based on America’s short odds of success at sea.

Adams described a heated congressional debate on Oct. 5, 1775, over whether to send vessels to harass British armed ships. Advocates cited “the great Advantages of distressing the Ennemy, supplying ourselves, and beginning a System of maritime and naval Opperations,” while opponents characterized plans for American warships as “the most wild, visionary mad project that had ever been imagined. . . . an Infant, taking a mad Bull by his horns.”  Ultimately, the delegates set into motion events that would culminate in the establishment of the Continental navy.2

When George Washington had assumed command of Continental forces in July 1775, he stood among those who believed that challenging British maritime supremacy would prove fruitless while draining resources and manpower from the land war. He modified his views after gaining a better sense of the threat the British posed by sea, as well as of the opportunities to disrupt the long British supply lines that ran between Great Britain and the states.  On Oct. 5, 1775, the same day as the congressional debate over sending Continental ships to harass the British, he wrote to John Hancock, then president of Congress, that he had “directed 3 Vessels to be equipped in order to cut off the supplies” and concluded that with “the Number of Vessels hourly arriving it may become an object of some importance” to capture as many British supply ships as possible.3

Just a week later, Washington wrote again to Hancock about his hopes for capturing British ships: “Nothing shall be omitted to secure Success: a fortunate Capture of an Ordnance Ship would give new Life to the Camp, & and an immediate Turn to the Issue of this Campaign.”4 And only 10 days after that optimistic letter, Washington relayed to Hancock the extreme danger of letting British ships go unchallenged, describing British naval actions at Falmouth, Mass., as “an Outrage exceeding in Barbarity & Cruelty every hostile Act practised among civilized Nations.” Washington wrote that this would happen again if not prevented by fortifications and armed vessels: “it appears the same Desolation is meditatd upon all the Towns on the Coast.”5

For these two immediate reasons, then–the promise of captured weapons and other supplies (and the consequent loss of them to the British), and the fears of British attack by sea–Congress and George Washington initiated aggressive naval operations. Challenges to Continental naval efforts remained complex, and I anticipate exploring these complications in later blog posts. Still, it is important to know that even before the French navy’s decisive entry into the war, Continental ships were crucial to the Revolutionary cause.

 

Notes

  1. L. H. Butterfield, et al., eds. The Adams Papers, The Diary and Autobiography of John Adams, (Cambridge, Mass., 1961), 3:342–44.
  2. Ibid., 3:343, n. 9. See also note 6 to “From George Washington to Joseph Reed, Jan. 4, 1776,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-03-02-0016. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series 3:23–27.
  3. “From George Washington to John Hancock, Oct. 5, 1775,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-02-02-0098-0001. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series 2:98–103.
  4. “From George Washington to John Hancock, Oct. 12, 1775,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-02-02-0140-0001. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series 2:146–50.
  5. “From George Washington to John Hancock, Oct. 24, 1775,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-02-02-0210-0001. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series 2:227–28).

 

 

“More Dangerous to the United States than the Late Treachery at West-Point”: Ethan Allen, Vermont’s Benedict Arnold

By Jeff Zvengrowski, Assistant Editor
August 11, 2017

An engraving of a statue of Ethan Allen. Courtesy of New York Public Library.

Treason is a central theme in volume 28 of The Washington Papers’ Revolutionary War Series. In a letter dated Sept. 26, 1780, George Washington informed Lieutenant General Rochambeau, who led the French forces at Rhode Island that “General Arnold, who has sullied his former glory by the blackest treason, has escaped to the enemy. This is an event that occasions me equal regret and mortification; but traitors are the growth of every country, and . . . it is more to be wondered at, that the catalogue is so small, than that there have been found a few.”1 Washington expected to add the renowned Vermont militia commander Ethan Allen to that catalog, however, when he told Gov. George Clinton of New York in early November “that I have given discretionary powers to seize and secure a certain person, should it appear upon further investigation necessary.”2

Fort Ticonderoga had famously fallen in May 1775 to Allen and Benedict Arnold. By the late 1770s, Allen, like Arnold, had become dissatisfied with Congress due to New York’s continued claim to Vermont, which was still commonly called the New Hampshire Grants. In mid-October 1780, British forces stationed in Quebec invaded the northern frontiers of New York and Vermont. The Vermont Republic still had not been admitted to the United States despite having declared independence in 1777. Congressman Philip Schuyler, Col. William Malcom, and other prominent New Yorkers recalled how Allen’s Green Mountain Boys militia had forcibly resisted New York’s authority from 1770 to 1775. They now suspected a grand scheme on Britain’s part to sever New England from New York through the treachery of Allen and Arnold. As Clinton informed Washington in an Oct. 14 letter: “It is a little remarkable that we had not the least Intelligence from the Grants of the approach of the Enemy tho’ they passed their settlements in Boats on the way. . . . This Enterprize of the Enemy is probably the effects of arnolds Treason. . . .”3 And Washington concurred in his reply of Oct. 16 that “I do not think it at all improbable that the movements of the Enemy, at this advanced season of the year, may have been upon a plan concerted to take advantage of the success of arnolds treachery.”4

A commemorative plaque at Fort Ticonderoga.

Having reported in an Oct. 18 letter to GW that “There has [been] but very little assisstance derived from the Grants on this Occassion—which cannot at present be accounted for,” Malcom wrote Washington again on the 29th that “I am Suspicious that there will be bad news from the north-parts of the State—towards the Grants <ere> long—my information although pretty good are not sufficent to accuse.”5  Clinton soon wrote Washington a letter in which he cited “the very extraordinary Conduct of Colo. allen and the Jealousies it has occasioned” in accepting a ceasefire with the British on Vermont’s behalf in order to negotiate prisoner exchanges.6  Schuyler had also sent Washington a copy of a letter he had received from Col. Alexander Webster of the New York militia. In the letter, Webster questioned Allen’s motives in asking the British to extend a similar offer to New York.  Suspecting that Allen’s overture was a feint to help disguise his treason, Webster stated: “I make no doubt but at first sight It will appear that the Grants have left us to ourselves either to stand or fall.”7  And Washington instructed Brig. Gen. James Clinton, the governor’s brother, on Nov. 6 as follows: “From some circumstances there is reason to apprehend Treachery in the Northern Quarter. . . . upon a further investigation if it should appear necessary to secure a certain person, you are to concert measures for having him apprehended suddenly and sent down the Country under a proper guard. You need not be cautioned against lisping the most distant hint of this business.”8

Allen would not be arrested upon further investigation, even though his Vermont political foe Joseph Marsh had warned Washington that “a negociation is on foot for a separate peace for the new State, which we have heard has been threatned if Congress should not acknowledge the independence of Vermont and admit them to union.” Marsh had added that “the consequences of such negotiation may be speedily fatal to the settlements contiguous to Connecticut river and more dangerous to the united States than the late treachery at West-point.”9 Allen actually was engaged in secret negotiations with Frederick Haldimand, the British commander in Quebec, to make Vermont a British province if rebuffed by Congress.10 The negotiations, however, came to naught in 1783, and Allen did not live to see Vermont become the 14th state in 1791 under President Washington.

 

Notes

1. GW to Rochambeau, 26 Sept. 1780 (LS, CtY-BR: Rochambeau Papers and Rochambeau Family Cartographic Archive).

2. GW to George Clinton, 6 Nov. 1780 (LS, N-Ar: George Clinton Papers).

3. George Clinton to GW, 14 Oct. 1780 (LS, DLC:GW).

4. GW to George Clinton, 16 Oct. 1780 (LS, CSmH). See GW to Thomas Jefferson, 10 Oct. 1780 (Df, DLC:G); and GW to Samuel Huntington, 21 Oct. 1780 (Df, DLC:GW).

5. William Malcom to GW, 18 Oct. 1780 (ALS, DLC:GW); and William Malcom to GW, 29 Oct. 1780 (ALS, DLC:GW).

6. George Clinton to GW, 3 Nov. 1780 (LS, DLC:GW).

7. Alexander Webster to Philip Schuyler, c.31 Oct. 1780, enclosed in Schuyler to GW, 31 Oct. 1780.  See Webster to John Williams, c.31 Oct. 1780, also enclosed in Schuyler to GW, 31 Oct. 1780.

8. GW to James Clinton, 6 Nov. 1780 (LS, NHi: George and Martha Washington Papers).

9. Joseph Marsh to GW, 3 Nov. 1780 (ALS, DLC:GW).

10. See John J. Duffy and H. Nicholas Muller III, Inventing Ethan Allen (Hanover and London: University Press of New England, 2014), 167-68.

George Washington and the Storming of the Bastille (Part II)

by Katie Lebert, Communications Specialist
July 28, 2017

Gouverneur Morris, engraving by Alonzo Chappel (1863). Courtesy of the New York Public Library.

In the fall of 1789, George Washington was inundated with information regarding the storming of the Bastille. He received five letters about a revolution occurring in France; most of these letters enclosed articles from international papers. He also received official intelligence through the U.S. minister to France, Thomas Jefferson. And American newspapers began publishing information about the event as early as Sept. 25.1 By early October, Washington likely knew a good deal about the outbreak of the French Revolution.

Washington’s first order of business concerning France, however, was responding to Louis XVI’s news that his eldest son had died.2 On Oct. 9, the same day he wrote his condolences to the French king, Washington noted in his diary the news that the comte de Moustier, French minister to the United States, would return to France for reasons of health and private business. The diary entry additionally included the minister’s announcement, as ordered by the French court, “[t]hat his Majesty was pleased at the Alteration which had taken place in our Government and congratulated this Country on the choice they had made of a Presidt.”3 For Washington, it seemed, matters with France were business as usual.

Another four to five days would pass before he turned his attention to the storming of the Bastille.4 As mentioned in part one of this blog post series, three of Washington’s letters repeated the same noncommittal sentiment regarding the revolutionary event.5 In a letter to close friend Lafayette, discussion of the Bastille was just as brief and unrevealing:

The revolution, which has taken place with you, is of such magnitude and of so momentous a nature that we hardly yet dare to form a conjecture about it. We however trust, and fervently pray that its consequences may prove happy to a nation, in whose fate we have so much cause to be interested and that its influence may be felt with pleasure by future generations.6

Washington remained tight-lipped on the matter until Oct. 13, when he wrote to Gouverneur Morris, who was in France on private business.7  While allowing that the fledgling revolution was “of so wonderful a nature that the mind can hardly realise the fact,” Washington continued to employ the diplomatic equivocation he illustrated in other letters on the subject. He cautioned that the revolution likely was far from over and that more bloodshed and drama would come: “I fear though [France] has gone triumphantly through the first paroxysm, it is not the last it has to encounter before matters are finally settled.” In fact, he believed more bloodshed and drama were yet to come:

In a word the revolution is of too great magnitude to be effected in so short a space, and with the loss of so little blood—The mortification of the King, the intrigues of the Queen, and the discontents of the Princes, and the Noblesse will foment divisions, if possible, in the national assembly, and avail themselves of every faux pas in the formation of the constitution if they do not give a more open, active opposition.

Having led a revolution himself, Washington had firsthand experience with political upheaval. Given French involvement in that effort, Washington likely drew connections between the budding revolution in France and the one he had led in fathering America.  And so, like a parent with his child, Washington used that insight to advise rather than criticize:

To these the licentiousness of the People on one hand and sanguinary punishments on the other will alarm the best disposed friends to the measure, and contribute not a little to the overthrow of their object—Great temperance, firmness, and foresight are necessary in the movements of that Body. To forbear running from one extreme to another is no easy matter, and should this be the case, rocks and shelves not visible at present may wreck the vessel.

On that note, he concluded his response. In the space of three short paragraphs, Washington had settled his thoughts on the outbreak of the French Revolution. Indeed, while his post-script acknowledges receipt of Morris’s foreboding letter of July 31, which had only just come to hand, Washington did not amend his letter or elaborate on his thoughts further.

Because Washington was known for being a judicious leader, his limited response to the storming of the Bastille feels unsatisfying. As the man who led one revolution with the help of a nation now undergoing one, these were the only thoughts he had to spare? After seeing how sensitively aware he was of the revolution’s impending outbreak, it felt like there should be more to the story.

Washington swearing the oath of office, still image. Courtesy of New York Public Library.

On the other hand, Washington had a lot on his mind in October 1789 besides the changing nature of a government more than 2,000 miles away. Having been inaugurated only six months earlier, he was still setting up his administration. In fact, on the same day that he penned the above letter to Morris, he wrote to Thomas Jefferson offering the post of secretary of state.8 And aside from trying to fill a variety of positions, Washington had to remain alert to other matters, such as tensions erupting on the frontier.9

In addition to the demands of his job, Washington was recovering from an illness that had left him largely incapacitated for the first few months of his presidency.10 He also was planning to leave on Oct. 15 for a tour of the northern states.11 So, perhaps to him, five letters on one topic unrelated to these domestic issues seemed five too many.

Washington scholars offer additional explanations for his controlled response. Biographer Ron Chernow proposes that the unfolding revolution did not concern Americans because they not only expected it, they welcomed it.12 Louis Martin Sears, author of George Washington and the French Revolution, offers (and strangely so, in my opinion) that besides a preoccupation with his presidential duties, Washington was unconcerned by the “depravity” described, due to a distaste for the French:

Certainly Washington was not the man to defend the French against Morris’ asseverations. His affections for Lafayette, Rochambeau, and numerous other individual Frenchmen never erased entirely his youthful hatred for the victors at Monongahela and the instigators of massacres uncounted along America’s wilderness frontier.13

In contrast to Sears, Chernow suggests that Morris’s logical perspective led Washington to act dispassionately. Doing so would allow him to avoid a snap judgment about what was likely to be a turbulent revolution.14 Sears instead proposes that it was Rochambeau’s “soldierly account” that probably tempered Washington’s judgment.15 At any rate, both historians conclude that Washington’s network of informants advocated objectivity.

I think it most likely, however, that it was a combination of Washington’s presidential duties and his natural inclination to judicious leadership that resulted in his cool response. His reaction only foreshadowed his future approach to foreign diplomacy. As Sears concisely writes, “That Washington received rather than gave goes almost without saying. His [preference] not to compromise relations with ‘our good Friends and Very Great and Good Allies.’ Decorum utterly forbade, and Washington was [a] perfect master of punctilio.”16

 

Notes

  1. To George Washington from Richard Claiborne, 23 July 1789,” “To George Washington from John Brown Cutting, 25 July 1789,” “To George Washington from Edward Newenham, 24-27 July 1789,” and “To George Washington from John Mason, 4 August 1789.” All letters are also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 3; “Siege of the Bastille” Herald of Freedom (published as The Herald of Freedom, and the Federal Advertiser), Sept. 25, 1789.
  2. “From George Washington to Louis XVI, 9 October 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-04-02-0105. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 4.
  3. “[Diary entry: 9 October 1789],” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/01-05-02-0005-0002-0009. Also available in print: The Diaries of George Washington, vol. 5.
  4. See part one of the blog series, “Washington and the Storming of the Bastille (I),” n. 1.
  5. See part one of the blog series, “Washington and the Storming of the Bastille (I).”
  6. From George Washington to Lafayette, 14 October 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-04-02-0129. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 4.
  7. “From George Washington to Gouverneur Morris, 13 October 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-04-02-0125. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 4.
  8. “From George Washington to Thomas Jefferson, 13 October 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-04-02-0123. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 4.
  9. See correspondence between Washington and Henry Knox during the summer of 1789 for information about the conflict among the Georgians, the Creek, and the Choctaw.
  10. For instance, in a letter to Bushrod Washington on July 27, 1789, George Washington wrote, “Among the first acts of recommencing business (after lying six weeks on my right side) is that of writing you this letter. . . .” “From George Washington to Bushrod Washington, 27 July 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-03-02-0189. For more information, see James McHenry to George Washington, June 28, 1789, n.1.
  11. “[Diary entry: 15 October 1789],” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/01-05-02-0005-0002-0015. Also available in print: The Diaries of George Washington, vol. 5.
  12. Ron Chernow, Washington: A Life (New York, 2010), 658-9.
  13. “Washington to Morris, 13 October 1789;” Louis Martin Sears, George Washington and the French Revolution (Detroit, 1960), 49.
  14. Chernow, Washington, 659.
  15. Sears, Washington and the French Revolution, 45, 47.
  16. Sears, Washington and the French Revolution, 56.

George Washington and the Storming of the Bastille (Part I)

By Katie Lebert, Communications Specialist
July 14, 2017

The Storming of the Bastille. Image from Wikimedia Commons.

On July 14, 1789, French commoners took to the streets of Paris. They had recently raided the Hôtel des Invalides for weapons and were now turning to find ammunition, a large store of which had just been delivered to the Bastille, a prison that housed political dissidents. Quickly, they swarmed it, demanding admittance. By midday, the attackers, who had steadily grown in number, became impatient and stormed the fortress. Gunfire erupted, resulting in the deaths of 98 attackers and one defender. Overwhelmed by the mob, the facility’s military governor, Bernard-René Jordan de Launay, was forced to surrender. The gate was opened, and the few prisoners inside were released. Launay was captured and taken to the Hôtel de Ville to be tried, but was later murdered. In a final effort to seal its newfound power, the mob erected Launay’s head on a stick.

Thousands of miles away sat George Washington, only a month and a half into his presidency. He would not learn of the events in France until September, and he would not acknowledge them until October 13/14.1 When he finally did, Washington only briefly discussed the revolutionary activity. His first responses are limited to five letters, three of which recycle the same uninterested reaction:

The Revolution, announced by the intelligence from France, must be interesting to the Nations of the World in general, and is certainly of the greatest importance to the Country in which it has happened. I am persuaded I express the sentiments of my fellow-citizens, when I offer an earnest prayer that it may terminate in the permanent honor and happiness of your Government and People.2

In the only letter in which he addressed the topic with more than one paragraph, his conclusion remained calm and measured: “I declared to you in the beginning that I had little to say. I have got beyond the second page, and find I have a good deal to add; but that no time or paper may be wasted in a useless preface I will come to the point.”3

So, why did Washington appear unconcerned by the violent outburst that occurred in the capital of America’s greatest ally, France? In order to answer that question, this first part of a two-part series will look at Washington’s knowledge and sense of the French political spirit leading up to the revolutionary outbreak on July 14, 1789.

Nearly a decade before, Washington had predicted that France’s financial involvement in the American Revolution would result in a higher taxes, “which the People in France are not in a condition to endure for any duration.”4 He continued, “When this necessity commences, France makes war on Ruinous terms.”5

Years later, on October 9, 1787, the Marquis de Lafayette, Washington’s good friend and protégé, confirmed Washington’s prediction. Onerous taxes, combined with the republican ideals learned from participation in the American Revolution, had precipitated restlessness in the masses: “The affairs of france are still in an Unsettled Situation—a large deficiency is to be filled up with taxes, and the Nation are tired to pay what they Have not Voted. The ideas of liberty Have Been, since the American Revolution, spreading very fast.”6

“View of the Bastile before its destruction in July 1789.” Image courtesy of the New York Public Library.

A year later, Washington reiterated his prediction in a now-famous letter to James Madison. Often quoted for its poetic introduction (“Liberty when it begins to take root is a plant of rapid growth”), the letter includes Washington’s assertion that “[t]he checks [the king] endeavors to give it … will, more than probably, kindle a flame which may not easily be extinguished; tho’ for a while it may be smothered by the Armies at his command.”7

While Washington believed revolution in France was inevitable, he could not anticipate when exactly it would break out. As early as January 1789, Rochambeau wrote Washington with evidence of unrestrained discontent in France. In his letter, he warned Washington that conversations among the three estates of France—the nobles, clergy, and general public—were becoming worrisome, foretelling drama yet to come: “We come out, my Dear General, of an assembly of chief men Where We treated the Wearisome preface of a Drama Which is to become of a great concern and of Which We must Expect a fine unravelling.”8

Gouverneur Morris, who was then in France on business, gave more detailed reports. On April 29, 1789, he sent a lengthy assessment of the French revolutionaries’ supposed predilection toward corruption and immorality:

A hundred Anecdotes and an hundred thousand Examples are required to shew the extreme Rottenness of every Member. … It is however from such crumbling Matter that the great Edifice of Freedom is to be erected here. Perhaps like the Stratum of Rock which is spread under the whole Surface of their Country, it may harden when exposed to the Air; but it seems quite as likely that it will fall and crush the Builders. I own to you that I am not without such Apprehensions, for there is one fatal Principle which pervades all Ranks: It is a perfect Indifference to the Violation of Engagements. Inconstancy is so mingled in the Blood, Marrow, and very Essence of this People, that when a Man of high Rank and Importance laughs to Day at what he seriously asserted Yesterday, it is considered as in the natural order of things. Consistency is the Phenomenon. Judge then what would be the Value of an Association, should such a thing be proposed and even adopted.9

Despite his “apprehensions,” Morris did not repudiate the French revolutionaries. Indeed, before describing these cultural difficulties, he extolled the significance of the French Revolution to American interests and the general cause of liberty:

We have I think every Reason to wish that the Patriots may be successful. The generous Wish which a free People must form to disseminate Freedom, the grateful Emotion which rejoices in the Happiness of a Benefactor, and a strong personal Interest as well in the Liberty as in the Power of this Country, all conspire to make us far from indifferent Spectators. I say that we have an Interest in the Liberty of France. The Leaders here are our Friends, many of them have imbibed their Principles in America, and all have been fired by our Example. Their Opponents are by no Means rejoiced at the Success of our Revolution, and many of them are disposed to form Connections of the strictest Kind with Great Britain.10

Morris wrote his next letter on July 31, two weeks after the storming of the Bastille. Skipping over the event that bore out his earlier assessment of the French revolutionaries’ capriciousness, he discussed its consequences. He reported that the country was so much in the hands of the common masses that the French monarch was considering abdicating his seat and fleeing to Spain.11 Believing the revolutionaries were moving much too quickly, and with little political experience or judgment, he was concerned about the form the new constitution would take: “I tremble for the Constitution. They have all that romantic Spirit, & all those romantic Ideas of Government, which happily for America, we were cured of before it was too late.”12

These are only a few of the many letters circulating within Washington’s social network that reveal the perspectives of the political climate in France. They excite the reader with promise of violence and imminent upheaval. But Washington’s responses to the events unfolding were few in number and unhurried in their reply. So, what could have contributed to such a reaction? We’ll discuss in the next part of this blog series.

 

Notes

  1. Washington’s letters to Armand, D’Estaing, Morris, and Rochambeau are dated October 13; his diary entry for October 14, however, notes that he “[w]rote several Letters to France” that day. “[Diary entry: 14 October 1789],” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/01-05-02-0005-0002-0014. Also available in print: The Diaries of George Washington, vol. 5.
  2. “From George Washington to Armand, 13 October 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-04-02-0124; “From George Washington to D’Estaing, 13 October 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-04-02-0119; “From George Washington to Rochambeau, 13 October 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-04-02-0127. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 4.
  3. “From George Washington to Gouverneur Morris, 13 October 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-04-02-0125. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 4.
  4. “From George Washington to Joseph Jones, 22 July 1780,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/99-01-02-02623. To be published: Papers of George Washington Revolutionary War Series, vol. 27.
  5. Ibid.
  6. “To George Washington from Lafayette, 9 October 1787,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/04-05-02-0332. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Confederation Series, vol. 5.
  7. “From George Washington to James Madison, 2 March 1788,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/04-06-02-0115 . Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Confederation Series, vol. 6.
  8. “To George Washington from Rochambeau, 31 January 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-01-02-0202. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 1.
  9. “To George Washington from Gouverneur Morris, 29 April 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-02-02-0125. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 2.
  10. Ibid.
  11. “To George Washington from Gouverneur Morris, 31 July 1789,” Founders Online, National Archives, last modified June 29, 2017, http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/05-03-02-0206. Also available in print: The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, vol. 3.
  12. Ibid.

 

Defending “this damned treaty”: Jay, Washington, and the 1794 Anglo-American Treaty

Portrait of John Jay by Gilbert Stuart.

Portrait of John Jay by Gilbert Stuart.

Popular discontent surrounding the 1794 Anglo-American Treaty led to some contemporary journalists calling George Washington’s presidency “as productive of producing numerous ‘public evils.'” In a guest blog post for The Selected Papers of John Jay, one of our Senior Editors, David Hoth, outlines GW’s relationship with John Jay throughout the preparation and negotiation of the treaty. Read the article on the Selected Papers of John Jay website.

Responses to George Washington’s Farewell Address

By Neal Millikan
February 23, 2015

Neal is an Assistant Editor for The Papers of George Washington. She is currently editing volumes for the Presidential Series.

On 19 September 1796 Claypoole’s American Daily Advertiser in Philadelphia published the
document that became known as George Washington’s Farewell Address.  The work that was addressed “To the PEOPLE of the United States” and began with the salutation “Friends and
Fellow-Citizens” had two goals: first, to announce that Washington would not accept another term as president, and second, to offer his reflections and comments on the United States.  The Address warned the nation against political partisanship and foreign influence in politics, and encouraged the country to avoid the political affairs of Europe.

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 Image from America’s Historical Newspapers

After its publication groups and individuals from across the United States wrote to George Washington. These letters typically combined a sadness that he was stepping down from office with an appreciation for the years of service the first president had given to the nation.  On 27 October the Vermont legislature asked Washington to accept “the only acknowledgment in our power to make, or in yours to receive, the gratitude of a free People.  Ardently as we wish your continuance in public office, yet, when we reflect on the years of anxiety you have spent in your country’s service, we must reluctantly acquiesce in your wishes, and consent that you should pass the evening of your days, in reviewing a well-spent life … We receive your address to your fellow citizens, as expressive of the highest zeal for their prosperity, and containing the best advice to ensure its continuance”(D, DLC:GW).

The New Jersey legislature wrote that Washington’s Address was “replete with sentiments of political wisdom, truth and justice, and merits our grateful acknowledgement.”  That body hoped that Washington’s successor “will be emulous to imitate his virtues and pursue the wise and wholsome system of politics, which has so conspicuously distinguished his administration, and so effectually secured to us the inestimable blessings of Peace, and the present unparallelled prosperity of our country.” (DS, DLC:GW; LB, DLC:GW).  The Delaware house of representatives’ 1 February 1797 response shared a similar view: “To enjoy the advantages resulting from your wise Administration, and not to express our Gratification; to feel the beneficial effects of your firmness and Patriotism, and not acknowledge them, to admire your Magnanimity and to be silent, would throw a Shade over the Republican Character, of which we boast, and would wound the sensibility of our Constituents.  Permit us, Sir, to offer the only tribute in our Power to give, and the only one worth your acceptance–the grateful acknowledgments of a free and independent People” (D, DLC:GW).

Some correspondents were already well acquainted with George Washington. Thomas Pinckney wrote from Charleston, South Carolina, on 10 January: “My absence from America at the time when the United Voice of our fellow citizens testified their gratitude for your past services, & their regret that they were about to be deprived of a Chief Magistrate so deservedly the object of their approbation & affection will I hope apologize for intruding my individual assent to these sentiments, and permit me without impropriety to indulge myself in the expression of that veneration for your public character & attachment to your personal merits with which I am sincerely impressed” (ALS, DLC:GW).  John Quincy Adams wrote from The Hague on 11 February that he hoped his fellow citizens would “not only impress all” the document’s “admonitions upon their hearts, but that it may serve as the foundation upon which the whole system of their future policy may rise, the admiration and example of future time; that your warning voice may upon every great emergency recur to their remembrance with an influence equal to the occasion” (Worthington Chauncey Ford, Writings of John Quincy Adams, 2:119-120).

Persons unknown to George Washington also felt motivated to write after reading the Farewell Address.  John Stiles commented on 8 October 1796 that although he was unacquainted with the president, “I feel such a glow of Affectionate gratitude to you, for the signal blessings we as a Nation enjoy, Owing Under God, to your Wise, Virtuous, and firm Administration, as Our Executive Officer, that I beg you sir to recieve My most Unfeigned and hearty Thanks, as an individual Citizen, Amongst the Millions of my Brethren who feel the same emotions for you” (ALS, DLC:GW).  Robert Nesbitt wrote on 22 October: “Four days ago I got a New[s] paper containing your Address to the PEOPLE.  A sentimental Patriotic friend told me that I would be affected, when reading it.  He spoke Truth.  Neither my Tongue nor my Pen can express my Sensations.  Excuse me, Beloved Sir, for addressing you, I cannot help it” (ALS, DLC:GW).  Daniel Jones wrote on 23 November that “though he does not presume to imagin that the opinions of an obscure individual resideing at the distance of an hundred miles west of Philadelphia, can augment or deminish your fame, he begs leave to tender you his warmest and most explicit thanks, for the many great and precious blessings which, as the chosen instrument of heaven, you have procured for our common country.” Jones further noted that he had named his youngest child Washington, so that “by a frequent repitition of the name, the memory of your virtues and services may be kept alive” in his family (ALS, DLC:GW).

George Washington also earned international approbation for the Farewell Address.  The Earl of Radnor wrote from Longford Castle near Salisbury, England, on 19 January 1797: “Tho’ of Necessity a Stranger to You, I cannot deny myself the Satisfaction among the Many, who will probably even from this Country intrude upon your Retirement, of offering to You my Congratulations on your withdrawing yourself from the Scene of public Affairs with a Character, which appears to me perfectly unrivalled in History” (ALS, PHi: Gratz Collection).  During the last six months of his presidency George Washington received correspondence relating to many issues, but one constant theme during that period was the universal commendation of his Farewell Address from admirers both in the United States and abroad.

 

Asserting the “Chief Magistrate’s” Prerogatives: Washington, Hamilton, and the Development of the President’s Discretionary Powers

By Kate Brown
January 19, 2015

Kate is a Research Assistant for the Revolutionary War series, a Mount Vernon fellow, and a Ph.D. candidate in the history department at the University of Virginia. Her dissertation is called “Alexander Hamilton and the Development of American Law.”

When George Washington swore the oath of office as the nation’s first president, the sovereign people of the United States bestowed upon him the somewhat vague, but potentially expansive, constitutional powers of a republican executive. At that moment, according to his former aide and soon-to-be Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton, Washington became not a king, but instead, America’s “Chief Magistrate.”[1]

What did it mean, to Washington and to Hamilton, for the American president to be the nation’s chief magistrate? While Article II of the U.S. Constitution (the definitive legal source of federal executive power) does not use the term “magistrate” to describe the president’s powers, Americans were familiar with the magisterial office from the inherited English legal traditions that still comprised much of the new nation’s substantive law and legal procedure. English as well as colonial magistrates (called justices of the peace, or JPs) served at the pleasure of the king, and exercised both executive and judicial powers. When acting as the king’s administrators, local JPs levied and collected taxes, for example, and then used the funds for such purposes as maintaining or erecting new community infrastructure. When acting in their judicial capacities, JPs heard and determined cases that included misdemeanors and even some felonies. While these magistrates enjoyed significant autonomy to act as local governors and judges, the king—England’s chief magistrate—and his superior common-law courts oversaw local JPs to be sure that their actions comported with English law.

When Washington and Hamilton considered the president as America’s chief magistrate, they, too, thought of federal executive power as comprised partly of administrative energy and decisive action, and partly of judicial-like discretion. To be sure, both Washington and his Treasury Secretary expected most executive actions to be reviewable in federal court. Yet, just as the British king possessed mighty prerogatives that allowed him to do as he pleased, without any oversight, so too did the American president. During the first years of Washington’s administration, Washington and Hamilton helped to assert and to defend these presidential prerogatives, and in doing so, they set crucial precedents about the nature and scope of the president’s discretionary authority.

In his Federalist essays, Hamilton gave considerable discussion to two of the president’s Article II prerogative powers—pardoning and treaty-making—that Washington would exercise, sometimes controversially, while in office. Hamilton referred to the president’s judge-like pardoning power as a “benign prerogative” required by “humanity and good policy,” and instituted primarily “for the mitigation of the rigor of the law”—especially “in seasons of insurrection.”[2] Hamilton was particularly prescient here, as President Washington made shrewd political use of his pardoning power in the aftermath of the 1794 Whiskey Insurrection. After the Pennsylvania Circuit Court tried, convicted, and sentenced rebel leaders Philip Vigol and John Mitchell to hang, Washington issued stays of execution and then pardons to spare the convicts’ lives.[3] Washington strategically employed his pardoning prerogative to demonstrate the fair-mindedness and mercy of the national government after he enforced the legitimacy of federal law.[4]

Hamilton also detailed the executive’s treaty-making powers, a discretionary authority unto itself, as the president made the decision to enter into a contract with another sovereign. After the parties involved drew up their agreement, only then would the Senate ratify the contract. However, like judges did when interpreting statutory law, the president would also have to interpret the terms of existing treaties, and act on his conclusions. This discretionary authority to interpret law and to act accordingly has become an integral part of executive power, and yet it sparked fierce public outcry during the 1793 neutrality crisis. In defense of Washington’s Neutrality Proclamation, Secretary Hamilton became the first and foremost expounder of Washington’s discretion to interpret the law.

In the first of his four Pacificus essays, Hamilton defended Washington’s issuance of the Neutrality Proclamation by demonstrating that inherent in the president’s power to execute the law is the necessary authority to interpret it. Washington sought to faithfully execute his obligation to keep the nation at peace (until Congress declared war on either the French or the British), and so “in fulfilling that duty, [the executive] must necessarily possess a right of judging what is the nature of the obligations which the treaties of the Country impose on the Government.”[5] In this case, Washington and his cabinet adjudged that American neutrality did not violate the existing provisions of the 1778 Franco-American Treaty of Amity and Commerce.

In addition, the Treasury Secretary concluded his exposition by forcefully articulating the discretionary authority inherent in American executive power, and exercised properly by President Washington. Hamilton declared:

The President is the constitutional EXECUTOR of the laws. Our Treaties and the laws of Nations form a part of the law of the land. He who is to execute the laws must first judge for himself of their meaning. In order to the observance of that conduct…it was necessary for the President to judge for himself whether there was any thing in our treaties incompatible with an adherence to neutrality. Having judged that there was not….it was [Washington’s] duty, as Executor of the laws, to proclaim the neutrality of the Nation…”[6]

Because Washington acted boldly by unilaterally interpreting the terms of the existing treaty with France and by issuing the Neutrality Proclamation in response, he set a precedent for decisive executive action in foreign-policy matters. And by supplying a well-crafted legal argument to support Washington’s discretionary authority, Hamilton provided a definitive statement of the contours of the executive’s prerogative to interpret the law that persists to this day, influencing our modern understanding of executive authority.[7]

While Washington and Hamilton collaborated frequently, and successfully, throughout much of their professional lives, their precedent-setting efforts to assert, develop, and define Article II executive power remains one of their most significant achievements. Although the U.S. Constitution enumerates presidential powers, Washington and Hamilton gave practical and legal meaning to this text, inseparably mixing executive action and judicial-like discretion in the tradition of the English magistrate. In doing so, neither Washington nor Hamilton sought to put the president above or beyond the law; instead, they aimed to set a precedent for the vigorous exercise of executive prerogative power first by asserting those constitutional prerogatives and then by defining and defending them through reasonable, though expansive, interpretations of Article II’s text. Through their efforts, George Washington and Alexander Hamilton asserted inherited, English legal traditions within the secure confines of a republican constitutional framework; in doing so, they adapted the discretionary authority of a “Chief Magistrate” to the office of the President of the United States.


Notes

[1] Hamilton refers to the President as the “Chief Magistrate” through his Federalist essays on executive power and in his administrative correspondence as Treasury Secretary.

[2] Federalist No. 74.

[3] See “Philip Vigol Stay of Execution” (June 16, 1795), The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, 18 (forthcoming) as well as Washington’s stay of execution for John Mitchell in DNA: RG 59, Copies of Presidential Pardons and Remissions, 1794–1893. Washington’s pardons for Mitchell and Vigol can be found at DNA: RG 59, Copies of Presidential Pardons and Remissions, 1794–1893.

[4] Washington had no doubt that he, as chief magistrate, had a constitutional duty to prevent western Pennsylvanian tax payers from dodging the federal tax on spirits that incited the so-called Whiskey Insurrection. In 1792, Washington wrote to Hamilton about a draft presidential proclamation to discourage opposition to the federal excise and affirmed:  “When…lenient & temporizing means have been used, and serve only to increase the disorder, longer forbearance would become unjustifiable remissness, and a neglect of that duty which is enjoined to the President. I can have no hesitation, therefore, under this view of the case to adopt such legal measures to check the disorderly opposition which is given to the executive of the Laws laying a duty on distilled spirits, as the Constitution has invested the Executive with; and however painful the measure would be, if the Proclamation should fail to produce the effect desired, ulterior arrangements must be made to support the Laws, & to prevent the prostration of Government.” (Washington to Hamilton (September 17, 1792 [first letter]), The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, 11: 125.) Washington published the final draft of his proclamation on August 7, 1794 (See “Proclamation,” in The Papers of George Washington, Presidential Series, 16: 531-37).

[5] Pacificus No. 1 (June 29, 1793), in Harold C. Syrett, ed., The Papers of Alexander Hamilton, vol. 15 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1969), 40.  Emphasis added.

[6] Ibid, 43. Emphasis added.

[7] When reflecting on Hamilton’s contributions to constitutional law, legal scholar William R. Casto carefully combed through Pacificus’ “careful and lucid argument…grounded in the a structure and actual words of the Constitution,” and concluded: “Simply put, Pacificus No. 1 is one of the best essays ever written on a specific issue of constitutional law.” (See Foreign Affairs and the Constitution in the Age of Fighting Sail (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2006), 82.)