Washington - A Life Part 10

Fired by sparkling intelligence and unstoppable ambition, Alexander Hamilton flourished as a wartime aide to Washington and later as treasury secretary because the two men agreed on so many policy issues.

"Baron" von Steuben. Colorful, flamboyant, and profane, Steuben performed wonders as the drillmaster at Valley Forge, introducing a new professionalism and forging discipline in the Continental Army.

The chief political opponents of Washington's presidency.

At first a trusted adviser to Washington and his peerless tutor on the Const.i.tution, James Madison emerged unexpectedly as his most formidable adversary in Congress.

While Washington's secretary of state, Thomas Jefferson teamed up with Madison, in a sometimes covert partnership, to contest the policies of the administration, inaugurating a major political party in the process.

An ardent admirer of Washington early in the Revolutionary War, Thomas Paine later turned into a scathing critic.

As the editor of an opposition paper, Philip Freneau heaped so many aspersions on Washington that the exasperated president denounced him as a "rascal."

Elizabeth Willing Powel, a married woman of exceptional intelligence and literary flair, was Washington's most intimate female friend and confidante during his presidency.

This image of Martha Washington captures both her sweetness and her sadness in later years.

Frances "f.a.n.n.y" Ba.s.sett, a niece of Martha Washington's, came to live at Mount Vernon in early adolescence and, with her winning personality, ended up as a much-loved surrogate daughter.

The Washington Family. This cla.s.sic portrait of George and Martha Washington includes the two Custis grandchildren they reared: George Washington Parke Custis, left, and Eleanor Parke Custis, right. The slave depicted at right may have been William Lee or Christopher Sheels. This cla.s.sic portrait of George and Martha Washington includes the two Custis grandchildren they reared: George Washington Parke Custis, left, and Eleanor Parke Custis, right. The slave depicted at right may have been William Lee or Christopher Sheels.

This painting of an aging President Washington shows just how haggard and careworn he appeared during his contentious second term.

Part of Washington's attachment to Hamilton sprang from his persistent concern for his personal papers, which he saw as guaranteeing his posthumous fame and preserving his record from distortion by posterity. The way Washington fussed over these doc.u.ments confirms that he knew he was a historic personage and reflected his awareness that his personal saga was inextricably entwined with that of the new nation. As early as August 1776, while bracing for Howe's a.s.sault on New York, he had shown solicitude for his papers, sending a box of them to Philadelphia for safekeeping. The following year he had a chest with strong hinges constructed to hold them. After Hamilton left his employ in April 1781, Washington asked Congress to hire secretaries to make copies of his wartime correspondence. "Unless a set of writers are employed for the sole purpose of recording them," he explained, "it will not be in my power to accomplish this necessary work and equally impracticable perhaps to preserve from injury and loss such valuable papers."32 Instead of the rough originals, Washington wanted clerks who wrote "a fair hand" to produce a magnificent set of bound papers. Instead of the rough originals, Washington wanted clerks who wrote "a fair hand" to produce a magnificent set of bound papers.33 Lieutenant Colonel Richard Varick, the former aide to Benedict Arnold, was appointed to head the editorial team and at various times hired six different clerks to a.s.sist him. With his customary attention to detail, Washington told Varick that he wanted "a similarity and beauty in the whole execution" with "all the writing . . . to be upon black lines equidistant. All the books to have the same margin and to be indexed in so clear and intelligent a manner that there may be no difficulty in the references."34 It was astounding that, in the midst of war, Washington would issue such precise guidelines. It was no less astounding that he elicited an appropriation for the project, even as he complained about the poor pay and provisions granted to his army. For more than two years, Varick and his clerks beavered away at the gigantic effort in Poughkeepsie, New York. They worked eight-hour days and filled up twenty-eight volumes with correspondence. Washington hoped this written record would stand as a polished monument to his wartime achievement-the perfect strategy for a man who shrank from overt self-promotion. It was astounding that, in the midst of war, Washington would issue such precise guidelines. It was no less astounding that he elicited an appropriation for the project, even as he complained about the poor pay and provisions granted to his army. For more than two years, Varick and his clerks beavered away at the gigantic effort in Poughkeepsie, New York. They worked eight-hour days and filled up twenty-eight volumes with correspondence. Washington hoped this written record would stand as a polished monument to his wartime achievement-the perfect strategy for a man who shrank from overt self-promotion.

ONE AMERICAN WHO ALMOST NEVER acknowledged Washington's wartime heroism was his mother, who left behind scarcely a single memorable sentence about her son's outsize success. With more to brag about than any other mother in American history, she took no evident pride in her son's accomplishments. As early as 1807 one Washington biographer wrote that Mary was "so far from being partial to the American revolution that she frequently regretted the side her son had taken in the contest between her king and her country."35 The best one can say about Mary Washington is that she did not exploit her son's renown for her own benefit. Instead, she leveled a steady stream of criticism at him, the gist being that he had abandoned her. "She had always been resentful of anything he had done that was not in her service," wrote James T. Flexner, "and she had talked so against George's activities that she was believed by many to be a Tory. Her perpetual complaint was of neglect." The best one can say about Mary Washington is that she did not exploit her son's renown for her own benefit. Instead, she leveled a steady stream of criticism at him, the gist being that he had abandoned her. "She had always been resentful of anything he had done that was not in her service," wrote James T. Flexner, "and she had talked so against George's activities that she was believed by many to be a Tory. Her perpetual complaint was of neglect."36 For a son as dutiful as George Washington, this was a strange accusation and only made him more distant from his mother. He seems not to have sent her a single letter during the entire war, prompting Douglas Southall Freeman to comment that the "strangest mystery of Washington's life" was "his lack of affection for his mother." For a son as dutiful as George Washington, this was a strange accusation and only made him more distant from his mother. He seems not to have sent her a single letter during the entire war, prompting Douglas Southall Freeman to comment that the "strangest mystery of Washington's life" was "his lack of affection for his mother."37 Observers noted a similarity between mother and son. When Baron Ludwig von Closen, an aide to Rochambeau, visited Mary Washington, he left this impression: "The afternoon I pa.s.sed with Mrs. Washington and her sister, both ladies no less venerable in their way than the General was in his." Observers noted a similarity between mother and son. When Baron Ludwig von Closen, an aide to Rochambeau, visited Mary Washington, he left this impression: "The afternoon I pa.s.sed with Mrs. Washington and her sister, both ladies no less venerable in their way than the General was in his."38 Before the Revolution, as noted earlier, Washington had set up his mother with a house and garden in Fredericksburg and instructed Lund Washington to attend to her financial needs in his absence. He agreed to pay rent to her based on the proceeds from the slaves and farmland she still owned. This mismanaged property had never yielded even half the money he agreed to pay her, so that the "rent" const.i.tuted a large outright subsidy. He had even sold off slaves to pay the exorbitant property taxes. During the war Washington had never received a single complaint about Lund's treatment of his mother and must have a.s.sumed she was perfectly content. In fact, Mary was far from content as she struggled with poor health, wartime food shortages, and the grave illness of her son-in-law and next-door neighbor, Fielding Lewis. Yet Washington heard nothing from her directly about these problems and learned about them only in an embarra.s.sing fashion.

After consulting with the French at Newport in February 1781, Washington returned to New Windsor to discover one of the most bizarre letters of his career. Benjamin Harrison, speaker of the Virginia a.s.sembly, informed Washington, with some trepidation, that his mother had instigated a movement in the legislature to provide her with an emergency pension: "Some Gent[leme]n of the last a.s.sembly proposed to apply to that body for a.s.sistance to your mother, who, they said, was in great want, owing to the heavy taxes she was oblig[e]d to pay. I took a liberty to put a stop to this, supposing you would be displeased at such an application. I make no doubt but the a.s.sembly would readily grant the request and it now only rests with you to say whether it shall be made or not."39 Perhaps afraid of infuriating or insulting Washington, Harrison had stalled in writing the letter. Clearly Mary had made no effort to forewarn her son of her pet.i.tion. She had now progressed from quaint or eccentric to dangerously erratic. Perhaps afraid of infuriating or insulting Washington, Harrison had stalled in writing the letter. Clearly Mary had made no effort to forewarn her son of her pet.i.tion. She had now progressed from quaint or eccentric to dangerously erratic.

From Washington's abashed response, one can tell that he had not heard about the matter before or communicated with his mother in years. He was mortified by the insinuation that he was an unfeeling son and that his mother had consequently thrown herself upon the charity of the state. The charge of neglect was substantially the same one Mary had trotted out since he first rode off to the French and Indian War. Now, amid his manifold wartime duties, Washington sat down and recounted for Harrison his tortured history with his mother, telling how he had set her up in Fredericksburg before the war and instructed Lund to take care of her. He seemed baffled and hurt by her charges: "Whence her distresses can arise, therefore, I know not, never having received any complaint . . . Confident I am that she has not a child that would not divide the last sixpence to relieve her from real real distress. This she has been repeatedly a.s.sured of by me. And all of us, I am certain, would feel much hurt at having our mother a pensioner while we had the means of supporting her. But, in fact, she has an ample income of her own." distress. This she has been repeatedly a.s.sured of by me. And all of us, I am certain, would feel much hurt at having our mother a pensioner while we had the means of supporting her. But, in fact, she has an ample income of her own."40 Washington asked the a.s.sembly to desist from taking any action. Washington asked the a.s.sembly to desist from taking any action.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

Plundering Scoundrels AS THE WAR WANED in the northern states, it waxed ever hotter in the South. The British, stymied in their goal of galvanizing southern Loyalists, nonetheless continued to fight aggressively. Lord Cornwallis ached to avenge the humiliation Banastre Tarleton suffered at Cowpens in January. For three weeks Nathanael Greene's ragtag army led him on a long wild-goose chase; then, on March 15, 1781, Cornwallis spotted his chance, as his men approached a phalanx of local militia that Greene had lined up south of Guilford Court House in North Carolina. After firing one volley, the North Carolina men dispersed, as Greene had ordered, but the Continental soldiers stubbornly held their ground in fierce combat until Greene signaled a belated retreat. "I never saw such fighting since G.o.d made me," declared a thunderstruck Cornwallis, who had a horse shot from under him in the carnage.1 Desperate for victory and in defiance of his officers, Cornwallis ordered his men to fire grapeshot amid hand-to-hand combat, causing British marksmen inadvertently to slay British soldiers. Desperate for victory and in defiance of his officers, Cornwallis ordered his men to fire grapeshot amid hand-to-hand combat, causing British marksmen inadvertently to slay British soldiers.

Technically a British victory, the battle cost Cornwallis dearly: 532 dead and wounded soldiers, more than a quarter of his force. As Charles James Fox pointed out in Parliament, "Another such victory would ruin the British Army."2 Nathanael Greene concurred: "They had the splendor, we the advantage." Nathanael Greene concurred: "They had the splendor, we the advantage."3 Cornwallis decided to move his bruised and exhausted troops into Virginia to link up with Benedict Arnold. He was being worn down by the wily, resourceful Greene, who came into his own during the campaign. Washington understood that Greene, despite the defeat, had acquitted himself n.o.bly. "Although the honors of the field did not fall to your lot," Washington told him, "I am convinced you deserved them." Cornwallis decided to move his bruised and exhausted troops into Virginia to link up with Benedict Arnold. He was being worn down by the wily, resourceful Greene, who came into his own during the campaign. Washington understood that Greene, despite the defeat, had acquitted himself n.o.bly. "Although the honors of the field did not fall to your lot," Washington told him, "I am convinced you deserved them."4 With the war intensifying in Virginia, the piecemeal transfer of men to the South hollowed out Washington's army. As British forces pushed deep into the Virginia heartland, they gladly laid waste to the estates of Revolutionary leaders, and Washington knew that Mount Vernon might be next. In January and again in April, Brigadier General Benedict Arnold led his British and Tory troops along the James River in a rampage of unbridled destruction, burning homesteads and tobacco warehouses. Britain's naval strength operated to advantage in a state well watered by rivers. After activating the militia, Governor Thomas Jefferson appealed to Washington to move southward, saying his presence "would restore [the] full confidence of salvation."5 For Washington, who longed to be home, this message was hard to hear. "n.o.body, I persuade myself, can doubt my inclination to be immediately employed in the defense of that country where all my property and connections are," he replied. For Washington, who longed to be home, this message was hard to hear. "n.o.body, I persuade myself, can doubt my inclination to be immediately employed in the defense of that country where all my property and connections are," he replied.6 Nonetheless he cited "powerful objections" to leaving his army or marching them hundreds of miles south. Nonetheless he cited "powerful objections" to leaving his army or marching them hundreds of miles south.7 He had already diverted a large number of men to Virginia under Lafayette, but he didn't wish to join him when there was a chance of collaborating with the French to take New York, which Washington still envisioned as the climactic battle of the Revolution. He had already diverted a large number of men to Virginia under Lafayette, but he didn't wish to join him when there was a chance of collaborating with the French to take New York, which Washington still envisioned as the climactic battle of the Revolution.

Intermittently Washington lapsed into pa.s.sing reveries about his old life at Mount Vernon. Early on he had written home frequently and at length, the mental connection with his estate still unbroken. Now, he told a correspondent, he had "long been a stranger" to such "private indulgences."8 Nevertheless he still deluged Lund Washington with minute questions about a place he hadn't set eyes on for six years. "How many lambs have you had this spring?" he asked in March 1781. "How many colts are you like to have?" He inquired about the progress of the covered walkways connecting the main house to the outlying buildings. "Are you going to repair the pavement of the piazza?" he wished to know. Nevertheless he still deluged Lund Washington with minute questions about a place he hadn't set eyes on for six years. "How many lambs have you had this spring?" he asked in March 1781. "How many colts are you like to have?" He inquired about the progress of the covered walkways connecting the main house to the outlying buildings. "Are you going to repair the pavement of the piazza?" he wished to know.9 These nostalgic recollections of Mount Vernon were shattered weeks later when a British sloop, the Savage, Savage, dropped anchor in the Potomac near the plantation. Captain Thomas Graves had burned homes on the Maryland side to soften up his victims on the Virginia bank. Then he sent ash.o.r.e a party to Mount Vernon to demand a large store of food and offered asylum to any slaves; seventeen of Washington's slaves-fourteen men and three women-fled to the ship's freedom, embarra.s.sing the leader of the American Revolution. Lund Washington knew that his boss wanted him to resist any cooperation with the British, and at first he balked at their demands. Then he went aboard the dropped anchor in the Potomac near the plantation. Captain Thomas Graves had burned homes on the Maryland side to soften up his victims on the Virginia bank. Then he sent ash.o.r.e a party to Mount Vernon to demand a large store of food and offered asylum to any slaves; seventeen of Washington's slaves-fourteen men and three women-fled to the ship's freedom, embarra.s.sing the leader of the American Revolution. Lund Washington knew that his boss wanted him to resist any cooperation with the British, and at first he balked at their demands. Then he went aboard the Savage, Savage, bearing provisions as a peace offering. After this conference he consented to send sheep, hogs, and other supplies to save Mount Vernon and possibly to recover the departed slaves. Maybe Lund wondered whether Washington, at bottom, was prepared to sacrifice his majestic estate. An indignant Lafayette warned Washington of the unfortunate precedent Lund had set: "This being done by the gentleman who, in some measure, represents you at your house will certainly have a bad effect and contrasts with spirited answers from some neighbors that had their houses burnt accordingly." bearing provisions as a peace offering. After this conference he consented to send sheep, hogs, and other supplies to save Mount Vernon and possibly to recover the departed slaves. Maybe Lund wondered whether Washington, at bottom, was prepared to sacrifice his majestic estate. An indignant Lafayette warned Washington of the unfortunate precedent Lund had set: "This being done by the gentleman who, in some measure, represents you at your house will certainly have a bad effect and contrasts with spirited answers from some neighbors that had their houses burnt accordingly."10 As Lafayette expected, Washington reacted with unalloyed horror when he learned that Lund had boarded the Savage Savage to negotiate with the enemy, and he promptly administered a grave rebuke to his steward for his decision to "commune with a parcel of plundering scoundrels," to negotiate with the enemy, and he promptly administered a grave rebuke to his steward for his decision to "commune with a parcel of plundering scoundrels,"11 as he dubbed them. "It would have been a less painful circ.u.mstance to me to have heard that, in consequence of your non-compliance with their request, they had burnt my house and laid the plantation in ruins." as he dubbed them. "It would have been a less painful circ.u.mstance to me to have heard that, in consequence of your non-compliance with their request, they had burnt my house and laid the plantation in ruins."12 Washington showed his cla.s.sic stoicism here, his uncompromising refusal to beg or bow to anyone. Since Lund was his proxy, he felt personally humiliated by the incident. In a fatalistic mood, he concluded that, unless the French brought a superior naval force to Virginia, "I have as little doubt of its ending in the loss of all my Negroes and in the destruction of my houses. But I am prepared for the event." Washington showed his cla.s.sic stoicism here, his uncompromising refusal to beg or bow to anyone. Since Lund was his proxy, he felt personally humiliated by the incident. In a fatalistic mood, he concluded that, unless the French brought a superior naval force to Virginia, "I have as little doubt of its ending in the loss of all my Negroes and in the destruction of my houses. But I am prepared for the event."13 He ordered Lund to remove at once any valuables from the estate. Martha Washington was then laid up with recurrent liver trouble, abdominal pain, and jaundice. So traumatized was her husband by the He ordered Lund to remove at once any valuables from the estate. Martha Washington was then laid up with recurrent liver trouble, abdominal pain, and jaundice. So traumatized was her husband by the Savage Savage incident that when the widow of a British Army paymaster sent Martha a parcel of citrus fruits as a get-well present-the Washingtons had stayed at her New York home in 1776-he brusquely returned it as an unacceptable gift from the enemy. incident that when the widow of a British Army paymaster sent Martha a parcel of citrus fruits as a get-well present-the Washingtons had stayed at her New York home in 1776-he brusquely returned it as an unacceptable gift from the enemy.

Sinking into a morose mood in the early spring of 1781, Washington again believed that the Continental Army was disintegrating before his eyes, that he had been doomed to lead a phantom army. So many enlistments had expired during the winter that it was at times difficult even to garrison West Point. His idle troops had languished since November, and "instead of having the prospect of a glorious offensive campaign before us," he lamented, "we have a bewildered and gloomy defensive one."14 As Greene and Lafayette won honors in the South, he was reduced to a helpless bystander, upstaged by his own disciples. As Greene and Lafayette won honors in the South, he was reduced to a helpless bystander, upstaged by his own disciples.

Washington dispatched Major General William Heath to raise supplies from the northern states and predicted his army would starve or disband without them. In May his hungry army was down to a one-day ration of meat. Even when states sc.r.a.ped up supplies, Washington couldn't pay the teamsters to transport them. It was all too familiar and wearisome to Washington, who began to think he would never see the end of the conflict. As he confided to General John Armstrong, he didn't doubt the outcome of the war, believing that "divine government" favored the patriots, "but the period for its accomplishm[en]t may be too far distant for a person of my years, whose morning and evening hours and every moment (unoccupied by business) pants for retirement."15

THROUGH THE COMBINED EFFORTS of Benjamin Franklin and John Laurens in Paris that winter, the French agreed to an indispensable loan and a munificent gift of six million livres to purchase arms and supplies. For all that, the French foreign minister, Vergennes, was reluctant to commit more French troops. In the early going, he had fancied that the French would score a rapid victory; now, as things dragged on, he shrank from an open-ended involvement. All along Washington and Lafayette had stressed the vital importance of sea power, and Vergennes decided the French would mount one last naval effort. In the spring he notified Lafayette that a French squadron would cruise off America's coast during the year: "M. Le Comte de Gra.s.se, who commands our fleet in the Antilles, has been ordered to send part of his fleet to the coast of North America sometime before next winter or to detach a portion of it to sweep the coast and cooperate in any undertaking which may be projected by the French and American generals."16 On May 8 the Count de Barras, the newly a.s.signed French naval commander, arrived with the invigorating news that 26 ships of the line, 8 frigates, and 150 transports had sailed from Brest in late March, bound for the West Indies. On May 8 the Count de Barras, the newly a.s.signed French naval commander, arrived with the invigorating news that 26 ships of the line, 8 frigates, and 150 transports had sailed from Brest in late March, bound for the West Indies.

On May 21 Washington met in Wethersfield, Connecticut, with Rochambeau, who confirmed that an enormous French fleet under Admiral de Gra.s.se was on its way. During the winter Washington had worked out in detail the plan that had long bewitched his mind: a siege of New York, with the Americans attacking Manhattan and the French Brooklyn. He cited the comforting statistic that Sir Henry Clinton, in sending detachments south, had cut his New York force in half. An operation against New York, he argued vigorously, would force Clinton to withdraw more troops from the South. Washington also had legitimate logistical concerns about the difficulties of marching his army to Virginia and its environs. He wasn't opposed to a southern operation per se, but his unswerving pa.s.sion for retaking New York was patent. "General Washington, during this conference, had scarcely another object in view but an expedition against the island of New York," Rochambeau wrote.17 Rochambeau had to play a delicate game of deception with Washington. Although he didn't want to stifle Washington's enthusiasm or rebuff him outright, he tried to steer the conversation toward a joint operation in the South, where they might rendezvous with the French fleet and surprise Cornwallis. Even as Rochambeau humored Washington and initialed a doc.u.ment saying that New York held top priority, he secretly relayed word to de Gra.s.se that he should think about sailing to Chesapeake Bay instead of to New York. In the coming weeks Rochambeau pretended to lend credence to Washington's plans, while focusing his real attention on quite a different strategy.

Why did Washington botch this major strategic call? Aside from settling old scores, he may well have believed that his army would enjoy a paramount role in a New York siege, compared to an auxiliary role in any southern battle. Or perhaps he honestly believed that it was easier to concentrate American and French forces in the North and that a long march southward in summer heat would sacrifice large numbers of soldiers through sickness and desertion. Having prodded the northern states to aid his army in any Franco-American campaign, he doubtless feared that their enthusiasm might cool with any southern strategy. Since he believed that his army's existence depended on the outcome of Heath's diplomatic mission to the states, this counted as no minor factor in his thinking at the moment.

While both Washington and Rochambeau labored to fashion a harmonious facade of Franco-American amity, perceptive observers detected subtle tensions. Their interpreter at Wethersfield, the Chevalier de Chastellux, a man of many parts-soldier, philosopher, member of the French Academy, intimate of Voltaire-was well placed to study their complex interaction. A handsome fellow with watchful eyes, he was gathering material for a book about the United States and was immensely taken with the forty-nine-year-old Washington, applauding him as "the greatest and the best of men."18 He was chagrined by the treatment Washington received from his French counterpart. Rochambeau, he claimed, handled the Virginian with "all the ungraciousness and all the unpleasantness possible," and he worried that Washington would be left with "a sad and disagreeable feeling in his heart." He was chagrined by the treatment Washington received from his French counterpart. Rochambeau, he claimed, handled the Virginian with "all the ungraciousness and all the unpleasantness possible," and he worried that Washington would be left with "a sad and disagreeable feeling in his heart."19 Washington secretly carried this grief but exposed it to no one outside a small circle of advisers. Washington secretly carried this grief but exposed it to no one outside a small circle of advisers.

When Chastellux arrived that winter, Washington was instantly charmed by this friend of Lafayette, whom he praised as a gentleman of "merit, knowledge, and agreeable manners."20 At his first meals with Washington, Chastellux was struck by how Washington was "always free and always agreeable" with his officers, unlike the rigidly formal Europeans. At his first meals with Washington, Chastellux was struck by how Washington was "always free and always agreeable" with his officers, unlike the rigidly formal Europeans.21 When he couldn't offer the Frenchman a separate bedroom for lack of s.p.a.ce, Washington apologized, "but always with a n.o.ble polite-ness, which was neither embarra.s.sing nor excessive." When he couldn't offer the Frenchman a separate bedroom for lack of s.p.a.ce, Washington apologized, "but always with a n.o.ble polite-ness, which was neither embarra.s.sing nor excessive."22 For Chastellux, Washington seemed a man of the happy medium: "brave without temerity, laborious without ambition, generous without prodigality, n.o.ble without pride, virtuous without severity." For Chastellux, Washington seemed a man of the happy medium: "brave without temerity, laborious without ambition, generous without prodigality, n.o.ble without pride, virtuous without severity." 23 23 He captured well how Washington was at once amiable and yet a shade aloof: "He has not the imposing pomp of a He captured well how Washington was at once amiable and yet a shade aloof: "He has not the imposing pomp of a Marechal de France Marechal de France who gives who gives the order the order . . . The goodness and benevolence which characterize him are evident in all that surrounds him, but the confidence he calls forth never occasions improper familiarity." . . . The goodness and benevolence which characterize him are evident in all that surrounds him, but the confidence he calls forth never occasions improper familiarity." 24 24 Most impressive was Washington's implicit submission to the people's representatives: "This is the seventh year that he has commanded the army and he has obeyed Congress: more need not be said." Most impressive was Washington's implicit submission to the people's representatives: "This is the seventh year that he has commanded the army and he has obeyed Congress: more need not be said."25 Later on, Chastellux left a fine epitaph for Washington when he said that "at the end of a long civil war, he had nothing with which he could reproach himself." Later on, Chastellux left a fine epitaph for Washington when he said that "at the end of a long civil war, he had nothing with which he could reproach himself."26 That Washington found it frustrating to be junior partner in the French alliance was confirmed when he returned to New Windsor after meeting with Rochambeau. At Wethersfield, Washington had advised Rochambeau to relocate the French fleet from Newport to Boston. Then the Duke de Lauzun arrived with a message that a French council of war had opted to keep it in Newport. This was a direct slap at Washington, who was "in such a rage," the duke said, that he didn't reply for three days. He had to accept that the French were his superiors, notwithstanding their public claims that he supervised the two armies. When Washington finally replied, he said he took "the liberty still to recommend" that the fleet be moved to Boston.27 The French seemed to acquiesce, for on May 31 he recorded in his journal that Admiral de Barras "would sail with the first fair wind for Boston." The French seemed to acquiesce, for on May 31 he recorded in his journal that Admiral de Barras "would sail with the first fair wind for Boston."28 On June 10 Rochambeau informed Washington that the Count de Gra.s.se would bring his fleet north that summer to coordinate an attack with the French and American armies. Washington reiterated his hope that de Gra.s.se would sail to New York. In reply, Rochambeau continued to string Washington along, contending that de Gra.s.se had been informed "that your Excellency preferred that he should make his first appearance at New York . . . that I submitted, as I ought, my opinion to yours."29 In reality, Rochambeau alerted de Gra.s.se to his private preference for heading first to the Chesapeake Bay. In reality, Rochambeau alerted de Gra.s.se to his private preference for heading first to the Chesapeake Bay.

In the early years of the war Virginia had been spared bloodshed, but in June 1781 fighting raged there with blazing ferocity. Lord Cornwallis had joined forces with Benedict Arnold, and despite able defensive maneuvers by Lafayette, the two men spread terror through the state. "Accounts from Virginia are exceedingly alarming," Washington told Rochambeau, reporting that the enemy was marching through the state "almost without control."30 Still bent on taking New York, Washington pleaded that an attack there would be the best way to siphon off British troops from Virginia. In mid-June he wrote again with a new twist-if they had clear naval superiority, he would contemplate targets other than New York: "I wish you to explain this matter to the Still bent on taking New York, Washington pleaded that an attack there would be the best way to siphon off British troops from Virginia. In mid-June he wrote again with a new twist-if they had clear naval superiority, he would contemplate targets other than New York: "I wish you to explain this matter to the Count de Gra.s.se, Count de Gra.s.se, as, if I understand you, you have in your communication to him, confined our views to as, if I understand you, you have in your communication to him, confined our views to New York New York alone." alone."31 Clearly Washington had been fooled as to what Rochambeau had whispered in the admiral's ear. Clearly Washington had been fooled as to what Rochambeau had whispered in the admiral's ear.

With the benefit of hindsight, Washington's preoccupation with New York seems a colossal mistake, just as Rochambeau's emphasis on Cornwallis and Virginia seems prescient. As a rule, Washington did not tamper with history and implicitly trusted the record. In this case, however, he later tried to rewrite history by suggesting that his tenacious concentration on New York was a mere feint to mislead the British in Virginia, while maintaining the political allegiance of the eastern and mid-Atlantic states. Responding to a query from Noah Webster in 1788, Washington defended his behavior with unusual vehemence, as if the inquiry had touched a raw nerve. He alleged that his preparations against New York were intended "to misguide and bewilder Sir Henry Clinton in regard to the real object [i.e., the Chesapeake] by fict.i.tious communications as well as by making a deceptive provision of ovens, forage and boats in his neighborhood . . . Nor were less pains taken to deceive our own army."32 He went so far as to say that "it never was in contemplation to attack New York." He went so far as to say that "it never was in contemplation to attack New York."33 But in confidential correspondence with Rochambeau he pushed for no Chesapeake operation, and the record shows that he had repeatedly favored a strike against New York. Only on the very eve of the Yorktown campaign did he undertake the deceptive maneuvers described to Webster. But in confidential correspondence with Rochambeau he pushed for no Chesapeake operation, and the record shows that he had repeatedly favored a strike against New York. Only on the very eve of the Yorktown campaign did he undertake the deceptive maneuvers described to Webster.

In general, Washington lived up to his vaunted reputation for honesty, but it was awkward for him to admit that he had, at least initially, opposed a campaign that served as the brilliant capstone of his military career. He wanted to portray himself as the visionary architect of the Yorktown victory, not as a general misguidedly concentrating upon New York while his French allies masterminded the decisive blow. Washington made it difficult for people to catch his lie because he alleged that he had tried to deceive his own side as well as the enemy; hence any communication could be construed as part of the master bluff. When Washington's letter to Noah Webster was published in the American Museum American Museum in 1791, Timothy Pickering, the former adjutant general and quartermaster general of the Continental Army, shook his head sadly. "It will hurt [Washington's] moral character," he wrote to Dr. Benjamin Rush. "He has been generally thought to be honest and I own I thought his morals were good, but that letter is false and I know it to be so." in 1791, Timothy Pickering, the former adjutant general and quartermaster general of the Continental Army, shook his head sadly. "It will hurt [Washington's] moral character," he wrote to Dr. Benjamin Rush. "He has been generally thought to be honest and I own I thought his morals were good, but that letter is false and I know it to be so."34 Whatever his shortcomings as a military strategist, the French understood that Washington's greatness as a general lay in his prolonged sustenance of his makeshift army. He had done something unprecedented by cobbling together a creditable fighting force from the poor, the young, the black, and the downtrodden, and he had done it in the face of unprecedented political obstacles. In early July the French and American armies camped close together near Dobbs Ferry, on the east bank of the Hudson, giving the French officers a chance to study the Continental Army and marvel at what Washington had wrought. It was a heterogeneous, mongrel army such as no European had ever before witnessed. "I admire the American troops tremendously!" said Baron von Closen. "It is incredible that soldiers composed of men of every age, even of children of fifteen, of whites and blacks, almost naked, unpaid, and rather poorly fed, can march so well and withstand fire so steadfastly." He gave all credit to "the calm and calculated measures of General Washington, in whom I daily discover some new and eminent qualities."35 Von Closen's amazement was shared by his colleague the Count de Clermont-Crevecoeur. As the latter roamed about the American army camp, he was stunned "by its dest.i.tution: the men were without uniforms and covered with rags; most of them were barefoot. They were of all sizes down to children who could not have been over fourteen. There were many negroes, mulattoes, etc. Only their artillerymen were wearing uniforms."36 Such tributes are the more noteworthy in that Washington was ashamed of the slovenly state of his army, which only heightened the admiration of the flabbergasted French. Such tributes are the more noteworthy in that Washington was ashamed of the slovenly state of his army, which only heightened the admiration of the flabbergasted French.

Predictably, French officers carped at the quality of American food. On the other hand, they couldn't fault the quant.i.ty, except the way it all seemed thrown indiscriminately on one plate: "The table was served in the American style and pretty abundantly: vegetables, roast beef, lamb, chickens, salad dressed with nothing but vinegar, green peas, puddings and some pie, a kind of tart . . . all this being put upon the table at the same time. They gave us on the same plate beef, green peas, lamb & etc."37 One wonders how Washington squared this groaning table with his constant pleas to Congress about food shortages. The French stared in amazement at all the beer and rum consumed and the interminable toasts with raised gla.s.ses of wine. They found Washington in an expansive mood at these dinners, convivial and relaxed-the Count de Segur spoke of his "unaffected cheerfulness"-and he lingered long into the night after the evening meals. One wonders how Washington squared this groaning table with his constant pleas to Congress about food shortages. The French stared in amazement at all the beer and rum consumed and the interminable toasts with raised gla.s.ses of wine. They found Washington in an expansive mood at these dinners, convivial and relaxed-the Count de Segur spoke of his "unaffected cheerfulness"-and he lingered long into the night after the evening meals.38 On July 18 Washington and Rochambeau wandered along the Hudson at the north end of Manhattan, surveying enemy positions. So many years had elapsed since 1776 that land denuded of its thick vegetation early in the war had started to grow back. "The island is totally stripped of trees and wood of every kind," Washington wrote, "but low bushes (apparently as high as a man's waist) appear in places which were covered with wood in the year 1776."39 He knew that de Gra.s.se's arrival off the coast was imminent, though he didn't know whether it would be off Sandy Hook, New Jersey, or the Virginia capes. Meeting with Rochambeau the next day, Washington reprised his idee fixe: that if de Gra.s.se's fleet could navigate its way into New York Harbor, then "I am of opinion that the enterprise against New York and its dependencies should be our primary object." He knew that de Gra.s.se's arrival off the coast was imminent, though he didn't know whether it would be off Sandy Hook, New Jersey, or the Virginia capes. Meeting with Rochambeau the next day, Washington reprised his idee fixe: that if de Gra.s.se's fleet could navigate its way into New York Harbor, then "I am of opinion that the enterprise against New York and its dependencies should be our primary object."40 In his journal Washington confessed that the Ma.s.sachusetts governor hadn't responded to his plea for more men and that he was petrified that, after de Gra.s.se's arrival, it would be found "that I had neither men nor means adequate" for a military operation. In his journal Washington confessed that the Ma.s.sachusetts governor hadn't responded to his plea for more men and that he was petrified that, after de Gra.s.se's arrival, it would be found "that I had neither men nor means adequate" for a military operation.41 Even as he knew he might be on the brink of a major triumph, he was also distraught at the impotence of his position vis-a-vis his French allies. When he wrote to the Count de Gra.s.se on July 21, he ducked the essential question of exactly how many men he had. "The French force consists of about Even as he knew he might be on the brink of a major triumph, he was also distraught at the impotence of his position vis-a-vis his French allies. When he wrote to the Count de Gra.s.se on July 21, he ducked the essential question of exactly how many men he had. "The French force consists of about 4,400 4,400 men," he told the French admiral. "The American is at this time but men," he told the French admiral. "The American is at this time but small, small, but expected to be but expected to be considerably augmented considerably augmented. In this, however, we may be disappointed."42 Contrary to his later statement, Washington told de Gra.s.se that he hoped there would be no need to go to Virginia, "as I flatter myself the glory of destroying the British squadron at New York is reserved for the king's fleet under your command." Contrary to his later statement, Washington told de Gra.s.se that he hoped there would be no need to go to Virginia, "as I flatter myself the glory of destroying the British squadron at New York is reserved for the king's fleet under your command."43

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.

The World Turned Upside Down IN EARLY AUGUST 1781 George Washington began to surrender his dream of taking New York and avenging its early loss. Ironically, his own inadvertent action helped bring about this change. Sir Henry Clinton intercepted a letter in which Washington named New York as his main strategic objective, prompting the British to strengthen their forces there and rendering Virginia more vulnerable. "It seems reduced almost to a certainty that the enemy will reinforce New York with part of their troops from Virginia," Washington notified Robert Morris on August 2.1 Turning his attention to Virginia, Washington asked Morris if he could ama.s.s a fleet of thirty double-decker transport vessels to ferry the Continental Army southward. Even though Washington reversed course the next day and dangled before the Count de Barras the shimmering prospect of New York Harbor "open and defenseless" for the taking, his mind was preoccupied for the first time by the logistics of a southern move. Turning his attention to Virginia, Washington asked Morris if he could ama.s.s a fleet of thirty double-decker transport vessels to ferry the Continental Army southward. Even though Washington reversed course the next day and dangled before the Count de Barras the shimmering prospect of New York Harbor "open and defenseless" for the taking, his mind was preoccupied for the first time by the logistics of a southern move.2 If Washington muddled along in something of a strategic dither, his heroic stature remained unimpaired among ordinary citizens, who thanked him for keeping alive the embers of rebellion. On August 4 Abbe Robin, a chaplain with Rochambeau's army, witnessed the adulation firsthand at the allied camp at Philipsburg, New York: "Through all the land, [Washington] appears like a benevolent G.o.d; old men, women, children-they all flock eagerly to catch a glimpse of him when he travels and congratulate themselves because they have seen him."3 He noted Washington's gift for inspired leadership, his capacity to make men vie for his favor. Washington "knew how to impress upon his soldiers an absolute subordination, to make them eager to deserve his praise, to make them fear even his silence." He noted Washington's gift for inspired leadership, his capacity to make men vie for his favor. Washington "knew how to impress upon his soldiers an absolute subordination, to make them eager to deserve his praise, to make them fear even his silence."4 On August 14, while still distracted by reports of a large British fleet arriving in New York, Washington absorbed dramatic news from the Count de Barras in Newport: Admiral de Gra.s.se had sailed from St. Domingue with a mighty fleet of up to twenty-nine ships of the line and 3,200 troops. If all unfolded according to plan, the fleet would show up off Chesapeake Bay by September 3. Stunned, Washington retired forever his ambition to conquer New York. In his journal he acknowledged the "apparent disinclination" of his French partners to tackle New York and noted the feeble response from state governors to his despairing pleas for more troops. He decided to discard "all idea of attacking New York," the fulcrum upon which his strategic calculations had hinged for years.5 De Barras told Washington that de Gra.s.se would need to sail back to the Caribbean by mid-October, leaving only a brief interval for a joint operation against Cornwallis. This gave Washington and Rochambeau three weeks to transport two c.u.mbersome armies 450 miles to Chesapeake Bay while de Barras and eight ships of the line and four frigates sailed south from Newport. After a desultory war that had shuffled along for years, Washington, Rochambeau, and de Barras now engaged in a headlong rush to reach Virginia. But orchestrating the movements of three armies and two navies over a vast portion of the eastern seaboard was to prove a fiendishly intricate maneuver.

Two days later Washington learned something from Lafayette that, in its way, was no less momentous than the startling news about de Gra.s.se. Cornwallis had retreated to the eastern tip of the Virginia peninsula that jutted into Chesapeake Bay, dividing the York and James rivers. On high, open ground at a place called Yorktown, he and his men were furiously shoveling trenches and throwing up earthworks. As it turned out, Cornwallis had barged into a trap that Washington had spotted years earlier when Brigadier General Thomas Nelson wanted to station troops at Yorktown to track British ships. Washington had pointed out to Nelson that his troops "by being upon a narrow neck of land would be in danger of being cut off. The enemy might very easily throw up a few ships into York and James's river . . . and land a body of men there, who by throwing up a few redoubts, would intercept their retreat and oblige them to surrender at [their] discretion."6 The letter uncannily foreshadowed the events of 1781. The letter uncannily foreshadowed the events of 1781.

As his army hurried south, Washington launched diversionary measures to dupe the enemy into thinking that New York remained his objective. He pitched a small city of tents on the west bank of the Hudson with wagons bustling in and out of this imaginary camp. American boats worked the nearby waters, laying down pontoons, as if readying an amphibious a.s.sault. To deceive the enemy, Washington needed to deceive his own men, who thought they were embarked for Staten Island. Instead they found themselves marching inland toward Trenton and then crossed paths with the French at Princeton, where Washington enjoyed a gratifying encounter with French officers. As he strode past their tent, he saw maps unfurled of Boston, Trenton, and Princeton: the officers were re-creating his victorious battles. One observer caught his reaction: "Despite his modesty . . . [Washington] seemed pleased to find thus a.s.sembled all the successful and pleasant events of the war."7 The group repaired to a tavern to share Madeira and punch. One wonders whether the French made a fuss over Washington's early triumphs to soothe his wounded vanity and draw the sting from his disappointment over abandoning New York. The group repaired to a tavern to share Madeira and punch. One wonders whether the French made a fuss over Washington's early triumphs to soothe his wounded vanity and draw the sting from his disappointment over abandoning New York.

To march his men through New Jersey without betraying his intentions to the enemy, Washington contrived ingenious stratagems. He broke his army into three parallel columns and brought them forward at staggered intervals. The troops had no inkling of their true destination until they reached Trenton, where heavy guns were loaded on boats to carry them down the Delaware River to near Christiana, Delaware. From there it would be a twelve-mile march to Head of Elk, at the northern end of Chesapeake Bay. The original plan envisioned troops sailing with them, but Washington couldn't rustle up the requisite vessels, so he and Rochambeau made a hugely daring decision to have the men traverse the immense distance to Maryland on foot.

The southern landscape was unknown territory for Washington's men, who braced for sweltering heat and disease. Fearful of a mutiny, Washington implored Robert Morris to come up with a month's pay to pacify the men: "The service [in Virginia] they are going upon is disagreeable to the northern regiments, but I make no doubt that a douceur [bribe] of a little hard money would put them in proper temper."8 Perhaps to garner popular support, Washington marched his army through Philadelphia, and cheering ladies jammed every window as a column two miles long filed through sunstruck streets. "The general officers and their aides, in rich military uniform, mounted on n.o.ble steeds, elegantly caparisoned, were followed by their servants and baggage," noted James Thacher. Perhaps to garner popular support, Washington marched his army through Philadelphia, and cheering ladies jammed every window as a column two miles long filed through sunstruck streets. "The general officers and their aides, in rich military uniform, mounted on n.o.ble steeds, elegantly caparisoned, were followed by their servants and baggage," noted James Thacher.9 The common soldiers, lean, sunburned, and spent from their march, padded along wearily to fifes and drums. At night the entire capital was illuminated in honor of Washington, who was thronged by crowds of admirers. The common soldiers, lean, sunburned, and spent from their march, padded along wearily to fifes and drums. At night the entire capital was illuminated in honor of Washington, who was thronged by crowds of admirers.

Washington's stay in Philadelphia was fraught with worry. He was on edge, having heard nothing from de Gra.s.se or de Barras since they sailed from their respective positions. "If you get anything new from any quarter," he entreated Lafayette, "send it, I pray you, on the spur of speed, on the spur of speed, for I am almost all impatience and anxiety." for I am almost all impatience and anxiety." 10 10 It was highly unorthodox for Washington to confess to such jitters. On the morning of September 5, after riding out of Philadelphia, he was overtaken at Chester by a messenger bearing phenomenal news: the Count de Gra.s.se had shown up in Chesapeake Bay with a full panoply of military and naval power: 28 ships of the line, 4 frigates, and 3,500 troops. Washington shortly learned that de Gra.s.se had engaged the Royal Navy under Admiral Thomas Graves off the Virginia capes, sending the British squadron scurrying back to New York and leaving the French in undisputed control of Chesapeake Bay. Between Lafayette's small army on the land side and de Gra.s.se's ma.s.sive fleet at sea, Cornwallis was bottled up near the end of the Yorktown peninsula. It was highly unorthodox for Washington to confess to such jitters. On the morning of September 5, after riding out of Philadelphia, he was overtaken at Chester by a messenger bearing phenomenal news: the Count de Gra.s.se had shown up in Chesapeake Bay with a full panoply of military and naval power: 28 ships of the line, 4 frigates, and 3,500 troops. Washington shortly learned that de Gra.s.se had engaged the Royal Navy under Admiral Thomas Graves off the Virginia capes, sending the British squadron scurrying back to New York and leaving the French in undisputed control of Chesapeake Bay. Between Lafayette's small army on the land side and de Gra.s.se's ma.s.sive fleet at sea, Cornwallis was bottled up near the end of the Yorktown peninsula.

As Rochambeau and his generals glided down the Delaware, they beheld something that overturned their preconceptions of a staid Washington. He stood on the riverbank in delirious elation, signaling gleefully with a hat in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. From across the water they heard him shouting "De Gra.s.se."11 "I caught sight of General Washington," wrote Rochambeau, "waving his hat at me with demonstrative gestures of the greatest joy." "I caught sight of General Washington," wrote Rochambeau, "waving his hat at me with demonstrative gestures of the greatest joy."12 Once the French commander came ash.o.r.e, the two men hugged with a mighty embrace. One French officer, Guillaume de Deux-Ponts, was amazed by Washington's ebullience. Before, he had been convinced of Washington's "natural coldness," but now he had to reckon with the "pure joy" shown by the American: "He put aside his character as arbiter of North America and contented himself for the moment with that of a citizen, happy at the good fortune of his country. A child, whose every wish had been gratified, would not have experienced a sensation more lively." Once the French commander came ash.o.r.e, the two men hugged with a mighty embrace. One French officer, Guillaume de Deux-Ponts, was amazed by Washington's ebullience. Before, he had been convinced of Washington's "natural coldness," but now he had to reckon with the "pure joy" shown by the American: "He put aside his character as arbiter of North America and contented himself for the moment with that of a citizen, happy at the good fortune of his country. A child, whose every wish had been gratified, would not have experienced a sensation more lively."13 The Duke de Lauzun agreed: "I never saw a man so thoroughly and openly delighted." The Duke de Lauzun agreed: "I never saw a man so thoroughly and openly delighted."14 Washington's boyish exuberance testified to the years of suppressed anxiety from which he was now beginning to feel emanc.i.p.ated. Washington's boyish exuberance testified to the years of suppressed anxiety from which he was now beginning to feel emanc.i.p.ated.

Perhaps restoring his spirits, too, was knowledge that, for the first time in six years, he would soon set eyes on Mount Vernon. He spent a long day in Baltimore, trying to get more transports to ferry his men and enduring the ceremonial occasions he loathed. Then early the next morning he set out on horseback with a single aide, David Humphreys, and streaked across sixty miles of Virginia countryside in a day. The last time Washington had set eyes on Mount Vernon was May 4, 1775, when he departed for the Second Continental Congress, little realizing how his life would be turned topsy-turvy. To experience Mount Vernon anew after his long, itinerant military life must have been a heady sensation. The household was now enlivened by newcomers, especially the four children of Jacky and Nelly Custis, whom he had never seen; the baby boy had been christened George Washington Parke Custis. Humphreys, a young man of literary aspirations, versified the slaves' reaction to Washington's return: "Return'd from war, I saw them round him press / And all their speechless glee by artless signs express."15 One wonders whether this homecoming was staged by slaves eager to parade their fidelity; the "speechless glee" doesn't jibe with the discontent of the seventeen slaves who had raced to freedom aboard the British sloop One wonders whether this homecoming was staged by slaves eager to parade their fidelity; the "speechless glee" doesn't jibe with the discontent of the seventeen slaves who had raced to freedom aboard the British sloop Savage Savage.

Within twenty-four hours Washington's and Rochambeau's entourages had arrived at Mount Vernon, ready to chart the Yorktown siege. For these battle-tested veterans, the mansion was a refreshing oasis. It was a tribute to Martha Washington's talents that she could entertain in style amid wartime conditions. Colonel Jonathan Trumbull, Jr., complimented the gracious and well-appointed reception lavished upon the visitors. "A numerous family now present," he wrote in his diary. "All accommodated. An elegant seat and situation: great appearance of opulence and real exhibitions of hospitality and princely entertainment."16 The French officers appraised Mount Vernon and its hostess with considerable curiosity. After the frippery of the French court, Martha Washington struck them as the pattern of republican austerity. "Mrs. Washington is . . . small and fat, her appearance is respectable," wrote Claude Blanchard. "She was dressed very plainly and her manners were simple in all respects."17 In surveying the estate, Blanchard detected the tarnished glory inflicted by neglect. "As to the house, it is a country residence, the handsomest that I have yet seen in America . . . There are in the places around many huts for the negroes, of whom the general owns a large number . . . The environs of his house are not fertile and the trees that we see there do not appear to be large. Even the garden is barren." In surveying the estate, Blanchard detected the tarnished glory inflicted by neglect. "As to the house, it is a country residence, the handsomest that I have yet seen in America . . . There are in the places around many huts for the negroes, of whom the general owns a large number . . . The environs of his house are not fertile and the trees that we see there do not appear to be large. Even the garden is barren."18 Baron von Closen found the house's relative modesty suitable for America's hero: "The s.p.a.cious and well-contrived mansion house at Mount Vernon was elegantly furnished, though there was no remarkable luxury to be seen anywhere; and, indeed, any ostentatious pomp would not have agreed with the simple manner of the owner." Baron von Closen found the house's relative modesty suitable for America's hero: "The s.p.a.cious and well-contrived mansion house at Mount Vernon was elegantly furnished, though there was no remarkable luxury to be seen anywhere; and, indeed, any ostentatious pomp would not have agreed with the simple manner of the owner."19 Washington must have been distressed by the creeping signs of decay everywhere. Whatever the war's outcome, he would be left a poorer man, which weighed heavily on his mind. That June, in a letter to William Crawford, the steward of his western lands, he broke down and confided his concern about his wealth withering away as the war progressed: "My whole time is . . . so much engrossed by the public duties of my station that I have totally neglected all my private concerns, which are declining every day, and may possibly end in capital losses, if not absolute ruin, before I am at liberty to look after them."20 Among the pleasures of his return was the chance to see the mansion's new north wing and the stylish dining room where he would entertain state visitors. It was likely here that he held a dinner for his guests on the night of September 12 before departing for Williamsburg the next morning. Jacky Custis prevailed upon his stepfather to take him along as a personal aide, a belated stint of service that must have awakened mixed feelings in Washington.

Arriving in Williamsburg late on the afternoon of September 14, Washington settled into the two-story brick home of George Wythe, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and Thomas Jefferson's old law professor. Washington moved about the town in a casual, un.o.btrusive fashion. "He approached without any pomp or parade, attended only by a few hors.e.m.e.n and his own servants," observed St. George Tucker, a well-to-do young Virginia lawyer and militia colonel.21 Although Washington eschewed the swagger of power, his self-effacing presence sent an electric jolt through the ranks of soldiers. Although Washington eschewed the swagger of power, his self-effacing presence sent an electric jolt through the ranks of soldiers.

As Tucker discovered, Washington had a retentive mind for detail and a politician's knack for remembering names: "To my great surprise, he recognized my features and spoke to me immediately by name."22 The young man also witnessed the fervent reunion between Washington and Lafayette, conjuring it up in a letter to his wife the next day. The marquis "caught the General round his body, hugged him as close as it was possible, and absolutely kissed him from ear to ear once or twice . . . with as much ardor as ever an absent lover kissed his mistress on his return." The young man also witnessed the fervent reunion between Washington and Lafayette, conjuring it up in a letter to his wife the next day. The marquis "caught the General round his body, hugged him as close as it was possible, and absolutely kissed him from ear to ear once or twice . . . with as much ardor as ever an absent lover kissed his mistress on his return."23 Washington also remained accessible to ordinary soldiers. "He stands in the door, takes every man by the hand," twenty-year-old Ebenezer Denny of Pennsylvania wrote home, still atremble with excitement. "The officers all pa.s.s in, receiving his hand and shake. This is the first time I had seen the general." Washington also remained accessible to ordinary soldiers. "He stands in the door, takes every man by the hand," twenty-year-old Ebenezer Denny of Pennsylvania wrote home, still atremble with excitement. "The officers all pa.s.s in, receiving his hand and shake. This is the first time I had seen the general."24 That evening Washington was entertained with an elegant supper and the overture from a French opera. The next morning he informed de Gra.s.se of his wish to confer with him. The French admiral had already issued a rather huffy letter to him, questioning the dilatory pace of the Continental Army. "The season is approaching when, against my will, I shall be obliged to forsake the allies for whom I have done my very best and more than could be expected," he wrote reprovingly.25 It was easy for the French admiral to quibble. The soldiers marching south from Head of Elk to Annapolis faced an exhausting trek