Washington - A Life Part 15

Washington had other cogent reasons for making the trip. To refute stories about his supposedly regal style, he decided to travel with only Tobias Lear, David Humphreys, and William Jackson, in addition to six servants. Since he was traveling to Ma.s.sachusetts, Washington thought it proper to invite along Vice President Adams, who committed a major faux pas by snubbing his invitation. The trip would also enable Washington, after his recent prolonged illness, to indulge in fresh air, exercise, and relaxation. To rebuild his shattered health, he now rode for two hours each morning and strolled for an hour in the late afternoon, but he still led a confined existence in New York and must have eagerly antic.i.p.ated the freedom of the open road.

When he set out in mid-October, the business of government did not grind to a halt. Congress had instructed Alexander Hamilton to draw up a report on public debt and to devise an all-encompa.s.sing plan to fund it. It was a huge and punishing task-Congress wanted it in hand when it reconvened in early January-but Hamilton, a dynamo who thrived on hard work, gloried in his ability to produce outstanding results on short notice. Prior to leaving New York, Washington also signed a proclamation for the first Thanksgiving on November 26, declaring that "Almighty G.o.d" should be thanked for the abundant blessings bestowed on the American people, including victory in the war against England, creation of the Const.i.tution, establishment of the new government, and the "tranquillity, union, and plenty" that the country now enjoyed.2 To execute a sweeping tour of the northern states, Washington knew, he would encounter many problems that had bothered him before. He had no flair for impromptu public speaking or small talk and could not divert audiences with a casual joke or anecdote. "In public, when called on for a sudden opinion, he was unready, short, and embarra.s.sed," Jefferson recalled, noting that Washington "had neither copiousness of ideas, nor fluency of words."3 He also had to worry about a more humiliating possibility: his dentures popping out unexpectedly. Opening his mouth relaxed the pressure on the curved metal springs connecting the upper and lower dentures, which might cause them to slip out. That Washington risked such embarra.s.sment in order to make direct contact with the people shows his self-sacrificing nature. Perhaps afraid he would be held captive to the hospitality of various families and eager to salvage some privacy, he laid down a rule that he would not stay in private residences during the trip. He also had to worry about a more humiliating possibility: his dentures popping out unexpectedly. Opening his mouth relaxed the pressure on the curved metal springs connecting the upper and lower dentures, which might cause them to slip out. That Washington risked such embarra.s.sment in order to make direct contact with the people shows his self-sacrificing nature. Perhaps afraid he would be held captive to the hospitality of various families and eager to salvage some privacy, he laid down a rule that he would not stay in private residences during the trip.

By now Washington well understood the machinery of fame. Usually he rode through the countryside in an open carriage, attended by servants in livery and jockey caps. Behind him a baggage wagon rumbled along, and one of his slaves, either Paris or Giles, supervised his white charger in the rear. As they entered a town, Washington would dismount from his carriage, mount the white steed, then enter with magnificent solemnity. He clung to the hope that he might avoid fanfare and enter cities un.o.btrusively, and at his first stop in New Haven, Connecticut, he deliberately bypa.s.sed the welcoming committee. "By taking the lower road," he admitted in his diary, "we missed a committee of the a.s.sembly who had been appointed to wait upon and escort me into town."4 Typically, as word leaked out about his imminent arrival, a volunteer cavalry corps rushed to greet him before he could outwit them. Doomed to his own celebrity, he tried to submit with the best possible grace. Typically, as word leaked out about his imminent arrival, a volunteer cavalry corps rushed to greet him before he could outwit them. Doomed to his own celebrity, he tried to submit with the best possible grace.

Aside from scouting places for future ca.n.a.ls, roads, and other internal improvements, Washington kept a weather eye out for innovations in manufacturing and agriculture. The country already stood in the early throes of the Industrial Revolution, and unlike Jefferson, Washington did not recoil from the mills that had begun to dot the landscape. He stopped by the Hartford Woolen Manufactory and examined its textile business. While he did not find their broadcloths to be first-rate, he ordered a suit for himself and material for breeches for his servants. Engaging in a bit of amateur sociology, he observed the greater income equality of the northern states. Soon after crossing into Ma.s.sachusetts, he wrote, "There is a great equality in the people of this state. Few or no opulent men and no poor-great similitude in their buildings . . . The farms . . . are small, not averaging more than 100 acres."5 His comment provides yet another example of Washington's growing appreciation of the northern states and his shedding of a purely Virginia ident.i.ty. His comment provides yet another example of Washington's growing appreciation of the northern states and his shedding of a purely Virginia ident.i.ty.

Boston loomed as the first major city on the itinerary; plans for a full-dress military parade as he entered the city only stoked Washington's anxiety. A committee of Boston dignitaries traveled to meet him in Spencer, west of Worcester, and, just as he feared, they presented their celebratory plans. Not for the last time during the trip, Washington fell on his sword: "Finding this ceremony was not to be avoided, though I had made every effort to do it, I named the hour of ten to pa.s.s the militia of the above county at Cambridge and the hour of 12 for my entrance into Boston."6 Boston had never properly thanked Washington for its liberation from the British, and it now intended to seize the opportunity. Knowing this would be a tribute to his wartime prowess, Washington departed from his usual practice and decked himself out in his Continental Army uniform, topped by rich gold epaulettes. If he had been resistant at first to the adulation of the Boston populace, he entered wholly into the spirit of the occasion. The morning of his arrival was cold and overcast, and his cavalcade was halted at Cambridge by a dispute as to whether state or local authorities would receive him. The president grew irritated with the maddening delay. "Is there no other avenue into the town?" he demanded.7 The stern reproof had an immediate effect: he would be greeted by munic.i.p.al officials. The stern reproof had an immediate effect: he would be greeted by munic.i.p.al officials.

As he entered Boston, church bells chimed, and a French fleet in the harbor erupted with bursts of artillery fire. In a symbolic gesture, cannon roared from Dorchester Heights, recalling the triumph Washington had engineered there during the Boston siege. People crammed the streets, bent on seeing him as he trotted by on his white steed. "He did not bow to the spectators as he pa.s.sed," said one observer, "but sat on his horse with a calm, dignified air."8 At the State House he pa.s.sed beneath an enormous arch emblazoned with the words "To the man who unites all hearts," surmounted by a laurel wreath with the inscription "Boston relieved March 17th. 1776." At the State House he pa.s.sed beneath an enormous arch emblazoned with the words "To the man who unites all hearts," surmounted by a laurel wreath with the inscription "Boston relieved March 17th. 1776."9 When Washington appeared on a balcony of the building and set eyes on the vast mult.i.tude below, there arose a tremendous roar. George Washington was always more emotional than people realized, and by the time he emerged from the State House and heard a choir crooning an ode to him, he could no longer contain himself, giving way to tears. One startled eyewitness described how "every muscle of his face appeared agitated, and he was frequently observed to pa.s.s . . . his handkerchief across his eyes." When Washington appeared on a balcony of the building and set eyes on the vast mult.i.tude below, there arose a tremendous roar. George Washington was always more emotional than people realized, and by the time he emerged from the State House and heard a choir crooning an ode to him, he could no longer contain himself, giving way to tears. One startled eyewitness described how "every muscle of his face appeared agitated, and he was frequently observed to pa.s.s . . . his handkerchief across his eyes."10 Washington's visit to Boston embroiled him in a delicate diplomatic impa.s.se with Governor John Hanc.o.c.k, who invited him to stay in his richly decorated Beacon Hill home. Hanc.o.c.k was something of a strutting peac.o.c.k, wearing fancy clothes and riding about in a radiant coach. In replying to this invitation, Washington explained his decision to stay in prearranged lodgings, although he accepted an invitation to dine informally with Hanc.o.c.k. Always scrupulously attentive to form, Washington a.s.sumed that Hanc.o.c.k would obey protocol and call on him at his lodgings before he went to this dinner. Pleading gout, Hanc.o.c.k failed to do so. To Hanc.o.c.k's emissaries, Washington expressed his displeasure. He knew that Hanc.o.c.k was trying to establish that he outranked the president in Ma.s.sachusetts. Behind the dispute over etiquette lay an unspoken struggle between state and federal power. "I informed them in explicit terms that I should not see the Gov[erno] r unless it was at my own lodgings," Washington wrote in his diary.11 Perhaps he remembered Hanc.o.c.k's peevish reaction when Washington had been appointed commander in chief instead of him. Hanc.o.c.k quickly got the message. Writing grandly about himself in the third person, he told Washington that "the Governor will do himself the honor to pay his respects in half an hour. This would have been done much sooner had his health in any degree permitted." Perhaps he remembered Hanc.o.c.k's peevish reaction when Washington had been appointed commander in chief instead of him. Hanc.o.c.k quickly got the message. Writing grandly about himself in the third person, he told Washington that "the Governor will do himself the honor to pay his respects in half an hour. This would have been done much sooner had his health in any degree permitted."12 To flaunt his martyrdom, Hanc.o.c.k wrapped himself up in red flannel bandages and had his servants carry him into Washington's lodging. To flaunt his martyrdom, Hanc.o.c.k wrapped himself up in red flannel bandages and had his servants carry him into Washington's lodging.

By this point Washington had come down with a cold and an eye inflammation. Even before he left New York, he had received reports of an "epidemical cold" gripping the New England states.13 On the day he entered Boston, so many local citizens were wheezing with heavy coughs and chest colds that the illness was dubbed "the President's Cough" or "Washington's influenza." On the day he entered Boston, so many local citizens were wheezing with heavy coughs and chest colds that the illness was dubbed "the President's Cough" or "Washington's influenza."14 Now it seemed that Washington himself had succ.u.mbed. Nonetheless he toured the Harvard College library and museum and went aboard the flagship of the French fleet, receiving maritime honors accorded only to kings. Bemused, he noted, "The officers took off their shoes and the crew all appeared with their legs bared." Now it seemed that Washington himself had succ.u.mbed. Nonetheless he toured the Harvard College library and museum and went aboard the flagship of the French fleet, receiving maritime honors accorded only to kings. Bemused, he noted, "The officers took off their shoes and the crew all appeared with their legs bared."15 Still the heartthrob of American females, Washington agreed to a request from the ladies at an elegant dinner to sit for a portrait that would grace Faneuil Hall. The smitten ladies, all aflutter, explained that "his benign countenance made such an impression on their hearts as they wish to recognize in his portrait in future." Still the heartthrob of American females, Washington agreed to a request from the ladies at an elegant dinner to sit for a portrait that would grace Faneuil Hall. The smitten ladies, all aflutter, explained that "his benign countenance made such an impression on their hearts as they wish to recognize in his portrait in future."16 From this portrait, copies were made that would hang in many Boston households. From this portrait, copies were made that would hang in many Boston households.

On his trip Washington followed his ec.u.menical practice of praying in churches of various denominations, including Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Congregational. In Boston he attended a concert in King's Chapel (Stone Chapel), where a young Danish artist named Christian Gullager, seated in a pew behind the pulpit, drew a rapid, unauthorized sketch of him. A week later, in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Washington granted Gullager a two-and-a-half-hour sitting that produced a remarkably fresh and candid portrait of Washington that was perhaps influenced by the painter's first glimpse of him in Boston. Leaning back in his chair, Washington seems to turn and suddenly catch the artist's eye. His face is broad and open, his torso ma.s.sive and powerful in a dark coat, and his aura commanding.

On October 28, as he toured the Boston Sailcloth Manufactory, Washington's attention was distracted from the wonders of American manufactures by the wonders of American women. One observer spied Washington's frisson of delight, saying that he "made himself merry on this occasion, telling the overseer he believed he collected the prettiest girls in Boston."17 When feted that evening, Washington was again encircled by adoring women and recorded happily in his diary that "there were upwards of 100 ladies. Their appearance was elegant and many of them were very handsome." When feted that evening, Washington was again encircled by adoring women and recorded happily in his diary that "there were upwards of 100 ladies. Their appearance was elegant and many of them were very handsome."18 So began a habit of counting the fashionable women as he basked in their attention. "He is much more open and free in his behavior . . . in the company of ladies . . . than when solely with men," someone later noticed. So began a habit of counting the fashionable women as he basked in their attention. "He is much more open and free in his behavior . . . in the company of ladies . . . than when solely with men," someone later noticed.19 Washington can be forgiven his wandering eye, for others noted the way pretty women gathered around him. One observer wrote that while Washington sat in state on a crimson velvet settee, "the ladies were very handsomely dressed and every one strove here, as everywhere else, who should pay the most respect." Washington can be forgiven his wandering eye, for others noted the way pretty women gathered around him. One observer wrote that while Washington sat in state on a crimson velvet settee, "the ladies were very handsomely dressed and every one strove here, as everywhere else, who should pay the most respect."20 It says much about Washington's declining health that this once-celebrated dancer seemed not to take the floor at these functions. According to Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, after the war, Washington "would always choose a partner and walk through the figures correctly, but he never danced. His favorite was the minuet, a graceful dance, suited to his dignity and gravity." It says much about Washington's declining health that this once-celebrated dancer seemed not to take the floor at these functions. According to Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, after the war, Washington "would always choose a partner and walk through the figures correctly, but he never danced. His favorite was the minuet, a graceful dance, suited to his dignity and gravity."21 After leaving Boston, Washington proceeded north along the coast, accompanied by four hundred cavalry, as the towns grew much less glamorous. In the fishing port of Marblehead, no fashionable women swooned over his presence. "The houses are old," Washington wrote, "the streets dirty, and the common people not very clean."22 Washington seemed to grow heartily tired of all the festive barges, honor guards, thirteen-gun salutes, and commemorative arches thrown in his path. In Salem one citizen saw how oppressed Washington was by all the pomp: "His appearance as he pa.s.sed thro[ugh] Court Street in Salem was far from gay or making anyone else so. He looked oppressed by the attention that was paid him, and as he cast his eye around, I thought it seemed to sink at the notice he attracted. When he had got to the Court House and had patiently listened to the ditty they sung at him and heard the shouts of the mult.i.tudes, he bowed very low and, as if he could bear no more, turned hastily around and went into the house." Washington seemed to grow heartily tired of all the festive barges, honor guards, thirteen-gun salutes, and commemorative arches thrown in his path. In Salem one citizen saw how oppressed Washington was by all the pomp: "His appearance as he pa.s.sed thro[ugh] Court Street in Salem was far from gay or making anyone else so. He looked oppressed by the attention that was paid him, and as he cast his eye around, I thought it seemed to sink at the notice he attracted. When he had got to the Court House and had patiently listened to the ditty they sung at him and heard the shouts of the mult.i.tudes, he bowed very low and, as if he could bear no more, turned hastily around and went into the house."23 Desperate for some relief in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Washington went deep-sea fishing with some local fishermen. The outing turned into a fiasco: he caught not a single fish, and when one local fisherman hooked a cod, he handed the rod to the disappointed president so he could reel it in. Doubtless feeling a little foolish, Washington gave the man a silver dollar. He was much happier attending a sumptuous dinner in Portsmouth, where he resumed his head count of the ladies and showed himself a connoisseur of female coiffure. At this a.s.sembly, he wrote, "there were about 75 well dressed and many of them very handsome ladies. Among whom (as was also the case at the Salem and Boston a.s.semblies) were a greater proportion with much blacker hair than are usually seen in the southern states."24 As he circled back to New York, Washington stopped at Lexington and "viewed the spot on which the first blood was spilt in the dispute with Great Britain on the 19th of April 1775." 25 After treading this hallowed ground, Washington proceeded south along crooked back roads to Waltham. Incredible as it seems, the presidential party had to ask directions of bystanders, who often gave Washington misleading information to the point that he complained of "blind and ignorant" advice.26 In his diary, he sounded the universal lament of travelers, grousing about room reservations that suddenly vanished, forcing the party to move on to another town for the night, or the atrocious entertainment at many taverns. The trip had been a colossal undertaking for Washington, especially after his recent malady. In the s.p.a.ce of a month, he had toured or pa.s.sed through almost sixty cities and villages. The journey had been an undisputed triumph, however, consolidating Washington's popularity and giving citizens a sense of belonging to a single nation. For all its rigors, the journey had also revived Washington's health. John Trumbull said he returned to the capital "all fragrant with the odor of incense." In his diary, he sounded the universal lament of travelers, grousing about room reservations that suddenly vanished, forcing the party to move on to another town for the night, or the atrocious entertainment at many taverns. The trip had been a colossal undertaking for Washington, especially after his recent malady. In the s.p.a.ce of a month, he had toured or pa.s.sed through almost sixty cities and villages. The journey had been an undisputed triumph, however, consolidating Washington's popularity and giving citizens a sense of belonging to a single nation. For all its rigors, the journey had also revived Washington's health. John Trumbull said he returned to the capital "all fragrant with the odor of incense."27 With what must have been indescribable relief, he arrived back at his Cherry Street mansion at three P.M. on November 13, 1789, "where I found Mrs. Washington and the rest of the family all well." With what must have been indescribable relief, he arrived back at his Cherry Street mansion at three P.M. on November 13, 1789, "where I found Mrs. Washington and the rest of the family all well."28 There would be no rest for the weary: having reappeared on a Friday, he had to mingle with visitors at Martha's weekly reception that evening. There would be no rest for the weary: having reappeared on a Friday, he had to mingle with visitors at Martha's weekly reception that evening.

ANOTHER EFFECTIVE WAY that Washington transmitted his image to the country and sought national unity was by sitting for portrait artists, an activity for which he set aside a huge amount of time. In early October he devoted two hours to an Irish artist, John Ramage, who daubed a miniature on ivory of him at Martha's behest. Ramage depicted a notably dour Washington dressed in a uniform adorned by the badge of the Society of the Cincinnati. In this unflattering portrait, Washington's nose looks too long and too hooked, his chin too sharp, and his expression morose, perhaps reflecting his fatigue before the northern trip reinvigorated him.

Around the same time, Washington posed for the Marquise de Brehan, who was variously described as either the sister or the sister-in-law of the Count de Moustier, the French minister, with whom she lived in a scandalous liaison. A friend of Jefferson, the marquise had imagined that she was coming to an American Arcadia and been sorely disappointed. The count, a bright but tactless eccentric, dressed in the red-heeled shoes of French n.o.bility and wore earrings. Both the count and the marquise were frowned upon by most New Yorkers, who had small tolerance for European decadence. "Appearances . . . have created and diffused an opinion that an improper connection subsists between [Moustier] and the marchioness," Jay informed Jefferson. "You can easily conceive the influence of such an opinion on the minds and feelings of such a people as ours."29 One local resident ridiculed the pair thus: the count was "distant, haughty, penurious, and entirely governed by the caprices of a little singular, whimsical, hysterical old woman, whose delight is in playing with a negro child and caressing a monkey." One local resident ridiculed the pair thus: the count was "distant, haughty, penurious, and entirely governed by the caprices of a little singular, whimsical, hysterical old woman, whose delight is in playing with a negro child and caressing a monkey."30 Perhaps reluctant to offend the French minister, Washington flouted convention and allowed himself to be painted by the marquise, who completed a cameo miniature of Washington in neocla.s.sical style, his head bound by a laurel wreath. In this profile, Washington has the ma.s.sive head and thick neck of a Roman emperor, a clear brow, a straight nose, and a steady, G.o.dlike gaze as he stares straight ahead. Perhaps reluctant to offend the French minister, Washington flouted convention and allowed himself to be painted by the marquise, who completed a cameo miniature of Washington in neocla.s.sical style, his head bound by a laurel wreath. In this profile, Washington has the ma.s.sive head and thick neck of a Roman emperor, a clear brow, a straight nose, and a steady, G.o.dlike gaze as he stares straight ahead.

Another portrait done around this time was a direct outgrowth of Washington's northern trip. After giving him a tour of Philosophical Hall, with its display of scientific instruments, Harvard College president Joseph Willard asked Washington if the university could have a portrait of him, and he agreed to sit for Edward Savage. In late December and early January, Washington generously granted three sessions to Savage, who portrayed him in uniform with the badge of the Society of the Cincinnati pinned to his left lapel. That Washington twice wore the badge for portraits early in his presidency shows his desire to rea.s.sert his solidarity with the group despite his rocky relationship with it. Savage's finished portrait shows a calm, powerful, but stolid Washington with a spreading paunch. There is no fire in the eyes or expression in the face-so unlike his smiling, expressive wartime portraits-again hinting at the extreme physical changes he underwent in his later years.

During this period Washington dedicated the most time to portraits by his former aide John Trumbull, perhaps because the artist situated him in historical settings. Washington wrote admiringly of Trumbull's "masterly execution" and "capacious mind" and showed toward him none of the petulance or impatience he did toward Gilbert Stuart.31 In 1790 alone Washington granted Trumbull a dozen sessions and even went riding with him, so the painter could study him on horseback. While training with Benjamin West in London in the early 1780s, Trumbull had been imprisoned as a secret American agent, which could only have endeared him to Washington. Trumbull now did a towering portrait of Washington for New York's City Hall, with British ships evacuating New York in 1783 in the background, as well as portraits celebrating the Battles of Trenton and Princeton. The Trenton picture showed Washington in all his earlier magnificence, standing trim, and erect, one gloved hand clasping his sword, his chin lifted in an elegant pose. For the Princeton portrait, Trumbull presented Washington on the eve of battle. "I told the President my object," he later wrote; "he entered into it warmly, and, as the work advanced, we talked of the scene, its dangers, its almost desperation. He looked the scene again and I happily transferred to the canvas the lofty expression of his animated countenance, the high resolve to conquer or to perish." In 1790 alone Washington granted Trumbull a dozen sessions and even went riding with him, so the painter could study him on horseback. While training with Benjamin West in London in the early 1780s, Trumbull had been imprisoned as a secret American agent, which could only have endeared him to Washington. Trumbull now did a towering portrait of Washington for New York's City Hall, with British ships evacuating New York in 1783 in the background, as well as portraits celebrating the Battles of Trenton and Princeton. The Trenton picture showed Washington in all his earlier magnificence, standing trim, and erect, one gloved hand clasping his sword, his chin lifted in an elegant pose. For the Princeton portrait, Trumbull presented Washington on the eve of battle. "I told the President my object," he later wrote; "he entered into it warmly, and, as the work advanced, we talked of the scene, its dangers, its almost desperation. He looked the scene again and I happily transferred to the canvas the lofty expression of his animated countenance, the high resolve to conquer or to perish."32 Despite his presidential cares, Washington remained a devoted family man and doted on n.o.body more than Nelly. She was such a bright, vivacious girl that Martha described the ten-year-old in 1789 as "a wild little creature" with boundless curiosity. 33 33 She had a sharp eye for people's foibles and later on loved to poke fun at the many young beaux who courted her. As she got older, she liked to sprinkle her letters playfully with French and Italian expressions. She had a sharp eye for people's foibles and later on loved to poke fun at the many young beaux who courted her. As she got older, she liked to sprinkle her letters playfully with French and Italian expressions.

Even as a girl, Nelly was smart and cultivated, if a trifle too dreamy for her grandparents. The Washingtons never penalized her because she was a girl, and they sent her to a boarding school in New York as a day student. They also made sure she acquired the necessary artistic graces. She studied painting with William Dunlap and turned out beautiful still lifes, often floral arrangements set against a black backdrop. Later on, in Philadelphia, a dancing master named James Robardet taught Nelly and Washy the fashionable steps required for polite society. Because she was so creative, the Washingtons also bought Nelly an English guitar and a harpsichord and gave her lessons with the Austrian composer Alexander Reinagle. In the musical realm, Martha was a martinet, forcing Nelly to practice the harpsichord for hours on end until tears sprang to her eyes. "The poor girl would play and cry, and cry and play, for long hours under the immediate eye of her grandmother, a rigid disciplinarian in all things," said her brother.34 Nelly also told of how, against her grandmother's warning, she wandered alone by moonlight in the Mount Vernon woods. When she came home, "the General was walking up and down with his hands behind him, as was his wont," said Nelly, while Martha, "seated in her great armchair . . . opened a severe reproof." Nelly also told of how, against her grandmother's warning, she wandered alone by moonlight in the Mount Vernon woods. When she came home, "the General was walking up and down with his hands behind him, as was his wont," said Nelly, while Martha, "seated in her great armchair . . . opened a severe reproof."35 Elsewhere Martha Washington is portrayed as overly indulgent with her grandchildren. After spending a day with the family in October 1789, Abigail Adams wrote that "Mrs. Washington is a most friendly, good lady, always pleasant and easy, dotingly fond of her grandchildren, to whom she is quite the grandmamma." Elsewhere Martha Washington is portrayed as overly indulgent with her grandchildren. After spending a day with the family in October 1789, Abigail Adams wrote that "Mrs. Washington is a most friendly, good lady, always pleasant and easy, dotingly fond of her grandchildren, to whom she is quite the grandmamma."36 Several years later Nelly wrote to Washington of how she looked up to him "with grateful affection as a parent to myself and family." Several years later Nelly wrote to Washington of how she looked up to him "with grateful affection as a parent to myself and family."37 Part of Nelly's appeal for Washington was her lightness of being, which relieved the gloom that sometimes cloaked the careworn president. Part of Nelly's appeal for Washington was her lightness of being, which relieved the gloom that sometimes cloaked the careworn president.

According to Washy, Nelly observed how Washington's grave presence inhibited children at play and that even grown-up relatives "feared to speak or laugh before him . . . not from his severity" but from "awe and respect . . . When he entered a room where we were all mirth and in high conversation, all were instantly mute."38 When this happened, Washington would "retire, quite provoked and disappointed." When this happened, Washington would "retire, quite provoked and disappointed."39 It is a powerful commentary on the way in which fame estranged Washington from the casual pleasures of everyday life, making it hard for him to get the social solace he needed. Yet here, too, there are contrary views. His nephew Howell Lewis wrote that when Washington was "in a lively mood, so full of pleasantry, so agreeable to all . . . I could hardly realize that he was the same Washington whose dignity awed all who approached him." It is a powerful commentary on the way in which fame estranged Washington from the casual pleasures of everyday life, making it hard for him to get the social solace he needed. Yet here, too, there are contrary views. His nephew Howell Lewis wrote that when Washington was "in a lively mood, so full of pleasantry, so agreeable to all . . . I could hardly realize that he was the same Washington whose dignity awed all who approached him."40 And in his memoirs, Washy reported how his sister charmed the president, stating that "the grave dignity which he usually wore did not prevent his keen enjoyment of a joke and that no one laughed more heartily than he did when she herself, a gay, laughing girl, gave one of her saucy descriptions of any scene in which she had taken part or any one of the merry pranks she then often played." And in his memoirs, Washy reported how his sister charmed the president, stating that "the grave dignity which he usually wore did not prevent his keen enjoyment of a joke and that no one laughed more heartily than he did when she herself, a gay, laughing girl, gave one of her saucy descriptions of any scene in which she had taken part or any one of the merry pranks she then often played."41 While Washington doted on Nelly, Martha took special pleasure in spoiling Washy. When he was away from home, Martha grew anxious, as she had with Jacky. On one occasion when Washy was gone and failed to write, Washington reminded him "how apt your grandmama is to suspect that you are sick, or some accident has happened to you, when you omit this."42 Exasperated with the boy's laxity, Washington criticized him in the terms he had once reserved for Washy's father. In New York, Washington hired a private tutor to work with Washy, who made temporary progress in Latin but was hopeless in math and other subjects. In general, he was an indifferent and easily distracted pupil. Washington constantly coached Washy and advised him to mend his ways. The boy would make all the right noises, then completely ignore his advice, leading to tooth-gnashing frustration for Washington. Exasperated with the boy's laxity, Washington criticized him in the terms he had once reserved for Washy's father. In New York, Washington hired a private tutor to work with Washy, who made temporary progress in Latin but was hopeless in math and other subjects. In general, he was an indifferent and easily distracted pupil. Washington constantly coached Washy and advised him to mend his ways. The boy would make all the right noises, then completely ignore his advice, leading to tooth-gnashing frustration for Washington.

Like his father, Washy knew that he would inherit the Custis fortune, which made him lazy and unfocused. George was again afraid to cross Martha on the loaded subject of the children and the Custis money. In a fascinating letter written in 1791, Tobias Lear talked about this uneasy standoff between the Washingtons: "I clearly see that [Washy] is in the high road to ruin . . . The president sees it with pain, but, as he considers that Mrs. W's happiness is bound up in the boy, he is unwilling to take such measures as might reclaim him, knowing that any rigidity towards him would perhaps be productive of serious effects on her."43 This was one area where the most powerful man in the country tread cautiously. Where Washington did succeed was in introducing the two children to the theater. The boy was sufficiently imbued with the love of acting that he played Ca.s.sius in a performance of This was one area where the most powerful man in the country tread cautiously. Where Washington did succeed was in introducing the two children to the theater. The boy was sufficiently imbued with the love of acting that he played Ca.s.sius in a performance of Julius Caesar, Julius Caesar, enacted at the presidential mansion, and later made an effort to become a playwright-a literary urge that resulted in a flowery memoir of his grandfather. enacted at the presidential mansion, and later made an effort to become a playwright-a literary urge that resulted in a flowery memoir of his grandfather.

From the outset of the administration, the Washingtons did their best to cope with the inconveniences of the Cherry Street house. Though roomy by ordinary standards, it could not accommodate enough people for large formal dinners and receptions. In the fall of 1789, when Washington heard that the Count de Moustier was being recalled to France, he jumped at the chance to occupy his house at 39-41 Broadway, on the west side of the street south of Trinity Church (erected two years earlier by merchant Alexander Macomb). This second presidential mansion was four stories high, featured two high-ceilinged drawing rooms, and was much more stately than its predecessor. When one New Yorker toured the house and its two neighbors under construction in 1787, he was thrilled by their imposing dimensions, saying that "they are by far the grandest buildings I ever saw and are said to excel any on the continent."44 On February 23, 1790, the Washingtons moved from their old cramped quarters to this airy, commodious new residence. Where they could seat only fourteen people at state dinners before, they now had room for more than two dozen. In the rear of the house, gla.s.s doors opened onto a balcony with un.o.bstructed views of the Hudson River. Washington also built a stable nearby with handsome planked floors and twelve stalls for horses. With his eye for furnishings, he bought from Moustier everything from a dozen damask armchairs to huge gilt mirrors to a bidet. Eager to augment presidential dignity, he bought more than three hundred pieces of gilt-edged porcelain for dinner parties. Green was the omnipresent color of the house, which had green silk furniture and a green carpet spotted with white flowers. Washington's love of greenery was further reflected in his purchase of ninety-three gla.s.s flowerpots scattered throughout the residence. It is curious that America's first president chose a residence so thoroughly saturated with a French sensibility.

This executive mansion never had the dark, smoky atmosphere that we a.s.sociate with an age of candlelight dinners. Attuned to the spirit of technical innovation, Washington bought fourteen lamps of a new variety patented by Aime Argand, a Swiss chemist. They used whale oil and burned with a cleaner, brighter light than anything used before, chasing away evening shadows and affording up to twelve times the illumination of candlepower. Washington mounted these lamps in the drawing rooms, hallway, entries, and stairwells, banishing shadows from the residence. As he wrote excitedly, "These lamps, it is said, consume their own smoke, do no injury to furniture, give more light, and are cheaper than candles."45 In this manner, Washington initiated America's insatiable appet.i.te for oil, provided theatrical lighting to burnish the splendid statecraft that he practiced, and introduced a welcome touch of modernity. In this manner, Washington initiated America's insatiable appet.i.te for oil, provided theatrical lighting to burnish the splendid statecraft that he practiced, and introduced a welcome touch of modernity.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE.

The State of the President A LITTLE AFTER NOON ON JANUARY 8, 1790, George Washington climbed into his cream-colored coach and rode off to Federal Hall behind a team of four snow-white horses. In its spa.r.s.ely worded style, the Const.i.tution mandated that the president, from time to time, should give Congress information about the state of the Union, but it was Washington who turned this amorphous injunction into a formal speech before both houses of Congress, establishing another precedent. Trailing him in his entourage were the chief justice and members of his cabinet, leading to yet another tradition: that the State of the Union speech (then called the annual address) would feature leading figures from all three branches of government.

Everything about the new government still had an improvised feel, and Washington's advent occasioned some last-minute scurrying in the Senate chamber. Maclay referred to "nothing but bustle about the Senate Chamber in hauling chairs and removing tables" for his arrival.1 Once at Broad and Wall, Washington entered the hall-on later occasions, constables held back the crowd with long white rods-and mounted to the second-floor hall. Everyone clung nervously to protocol, and the president went through an awkward comedy of manners with the legislators. When he entered, they rose; when he was seated, they sat. Still dressed in shades of mourning for his mother, he was garbed in a suit of midnight blue, verging on black, that he had brought back from the Hartford factory. Once at Broad and Wall, Washington entered the hall-on later occasions, constables held back the crowd with long white rods-and mounted to the second-floor hall. Everyone clung nervously to protocol, and the president went through an awkward comedy of manners with the legislators. When he entered, they rose; when he was seated, they sat. Still dressed in shades of mourning for his mother, he was garbed in a suit of midnight blue, verging on black, that he had brought back from the Hartford factory.

In a hopeful speech, Washington antic.i.p.ated Hamilton's financial program by endorsing the need to establish public credit and promote manufacturing, agriculture, and commerce. He sounded a theme already resonant in his wartime letters: the need to ensure a strong national defense: "To be prepared for war is one of the most effectual means of preserving peace."2 He also advocated the advancement of science, literature, and learning through the formation of a national university. The speech was composed in the didactic style of a wise parent, patiently lecturing his children, that characterized Washington's public p.r.o.nouncements and defined his political rhetoric. When it ended, the legislators stood, Washington bowed, and then he descended to the street. William Maclay did not fault Washington's speaking style, but ever watchful for monarchical tendencies, he carped that Washington had fallen into "the British mode of business" by asking department heads to lay certain doc.u.ments before Congress. He also advocated the advancement of science, literature, and learning through the formation of a national university. The speech was composed in the didactic style of a wise parent, patiently lecturing his children, that characterized Washington's public p.r.o.nouncements and defined his political rhetoric. When it ended, the legislators stood, Washington bowed, and then he descended to the street. William Maclay did not fault Washington's speaking style, but ever watchful for monarchical tendencies, he carped that Washington had fallen into "the British mode of business" by asking department heads to lay certain doc.u.ments before Congress.3 When Washington delivered his speech, he had little sense that a furor was about to erupt over Hamilton's funding system or that American politics would become fractious and nasty. Even before Hamilton took office, Congress had enacted legislation to create a string of lighthouses, beacons, and buoys along the eastern seaboard for the customs service, placing Hamilton in charge of a vast public works project. He also had enormous patronage powers, as he named customs inspectors and other revenue officials. During the colonial era, the evasion of customs duties had become a time-honored practice, and Hamilton had to seek Washington's approval for constructing ten boats called revenue cutters to police the waterways and intercept smugglers, giving birth to what later became the Coast Guard. For political harmony, Washington and Hamilton distributed the construction work and skipper jobs to different parts of the country, but for a nation already wary of bureaucracy, the program represented a significant, and for some ominous, expansion of government power.

As the office handling money matters, the Treasury Department was bound to be a flash point for controversy. When Congress debated its shape in 1789, republican purists wanted it headed by a three-member board as a safeguard against concentrated power. When a single secretary was chosen instead, Congress tried to hem in his power by requiring that, unlike the other cabinet secretaries, he should file periodic reports directly with them. Instead of subordinating Hamilton to the legislature, however, this approach enmeshed him in its workings. The treasury secretary's aggressive style guaranteed that the executive branch, not Congress, would oversee economic policy. As with foreign policy, executive primacy in economic matters ran counter to the view of many framers who had hoped that Congress would enjoy policy-making centrality, but this development promised greater efficiency and consistency than would otherwise have been the case.

On January 14, 1790, Hamilton delivered the Report on Public Credit Report on Public Credit that Congress had requested in the fall. With his nimble mind and encyclopedic store of knowledge, Hamilton served up a magnum opus that eclipsed anything the legislators had envisioned. No evidence exists that Hamilton consulted Washington before he completed it. Since the president was not well schooled in the arcana of public finance, Jefferson thought he had been hoodwinked: "Unversed in financial projects and calculations and budgets, his approbation of them was bottomed on confidence in the man [Hamilton]." that Congress had requested in the fall. With his nimble mind and encyclopedic store of knowledge, Hamilton served up a magnum opus that eclipsed anything the legislators had envisioned. No evidence exists that Hamilton consulted Washington before he completed it. Since the president was not well schooled in the arcana of public finance, Jefferson thought he had been hoodwinked: "Unversed in financial projects and calculations and budgets, his approbation of them was bottomed on confidence in the man [Hamilton]."4 Jefferson's insinuation that Washington was a helpless dupe of Hamilton is highly misleading. Dating back to their wartime frustrations with Congress, Washington and Hamilton had shared a common worldview and an expansive faith in executive power. They had seen firsthand how Britain's well-funded public debt had enabled it to prosecute the war with seemingly limitless resources. Late in the war Washington had blasted the fanciful notion that "the war can be carried on without money, or that money can be borrowed without permanent funds to pay the interest of it." Jefferson's insinuation that Washington was a helpless dupe of Hamilton is highly misleading. Dating back to their wartime frustrations with Congress, Washington and Hamilton had shared a common worldview and an expansive faith in executive power. They had seen firsthand how Britain's well-funded public debt had enabled it to prosecute the war with seemingly limitless resources. Late in the war Washington had blasted the fanciful notion that "the war can be carried on without money, or that money can be borrowed without permanent funds to pay the interest of it."5 The federal government had fallen woefully in arrears in paying off the enormous debt-$54 million in national and $25 million in state obligations-ama.s.sed to fight the Revolutionary War. It would have been tempting for the young nation to repudiate this burden, but as a matter of policy and morality, Washington and Hamilton thought nations should honor their debts if they aspired to full membership in the community of nations. "With respect to the payment of British debts," Washington had written before becoming president, "I would fain hope . . . that the good sense of this country will never suffer a violation of a public treaty, nor pa.s.s acts of injustice to individuals. Honesty in states, as well as in individuals, will ever be found the soundest policy."6 If Washington gave Hamilton something close to carte blanche on fiscal matters, it was because they essentially agreed on the steps needed to tame America's staggering debt. But he had also set up a policy-making apparatus in which major decisions had to cross his desk for approval, so he was confident that he could control the sometimes-brash Hamilton. If Washington gave Hamilton something close to carte blanche on fiscal matters, it was because they essentially agreed on the steps needed to tame America's staggering debt. But he had also set up a policy-making apparatus in which major decisions had to cross his desk for approval, so he was confident that he could control the sometimes-brash Hamilton.

Hamilton's audacious report argued that, to restore fiscal sanity, the government did not have to retire the debt at once. All it had to do was devise a mechanism to convince people that, by setting aside revenues at predictable intervals, it would faithfully retire it in future years. Such a well-funded debt, Hamilton argued, would be a "national blessing" inasmuch as it would provide investment capital and an elastic national currency.7 The report foresaw a medley of taxes, from import duties to excise taxes on distilled spirits, to pay off existing debt and to service a new foreign loan. With its new taxes and its funded debt, Hamilton's program was bound to dredge up unwelcome memories of the British ministry. The report foresaw a medley of taxes, from import duties to excise taxes on distilled spirits, to pay off existing debt and to service a new foreign loan. With its new taxes and its funded debt, Hamilton's program was bound to dredge up unwelcome memories of the British ministry.

In his report, Hamilton championed several controversial measures. Some original holders of the wartime promissory notes, including many Continental Army veterans, had sold them after the war at a tiny fraction of their face value, believing that they would never be repaid in full. Hamilton planned to redeem them at face value and wanted current holders of the paper, even if they were speculators, to reap the rewards of the steep price appreciation that would follow enactment of his program. Only by doing this, he thought, could he establish the principle that owners of securities were ent.i.tled to all future profits and losses. Without such a policy, the United States could never establish thriving securities markets. Hamilton was also persuaded that, since the debt had been raised to finance a national war, the federal government should a.s.sume responsibility for the states' debts as well. Such an act of "a.s.sumption" would have extraordinarily potent political effects, for holders of state debt would transfer their loyalty to the new central government, binding the country together. It would also reinforce the federal government's claim to future tax revenues in any controversies with the states. Peerless in crafting policies embedded with a secret political agenda, Hamilton knew how to dovetail one program with another in a way that made them all difficult to undo.

Until the publication of Hamilton's report, James Madison had been Washington's most confidential adviser. That began to erode on February 11, 1790, when Madison rose in the House and, in a surprising volte-face, denounced the idea that speculators should benefit from Hamilton's program. It was a stunning shot across the bow of the administration. Madison favored a policy of so-called discrimination-that original holders of the debt, mostly former soldiers, should share in the windfall as the price of government paper soared. Many Americans found it hard to see speculators rewarded instead of veterans, and Madison's speech tapped a powerful vein of discontent. Speculation in government debt, Madison affirmed, was "wrong, radically and morally and politically wrong."8 As a Virginia congressman and budding advocate of states' rights, Madison was moving away from the continental perspective that had united him with Hamilton when they co-auth.o.r.ed As a Virginia congressman and budding advocate of states' rights, Madison was moving away from the continental perspective that had united him with Hamilton when they co-auth.o.r.ed The Federalist. The Federalist. For Madison, the funded debt and the expanding ranks of Treasury employees were far too reminiscent of the British model. Feeling betrayed by Madison, Hamilton argued that his former comrade's discrimination proposal was simply unworkable. To track down the original holders of securities and parcel out their shares of the profits would be a bureaucratic nightmare. He also considered speculation to be an inescapable, if unsavory, aspect of functioning financial markets. For Madison, the funded debt and the expanding ranks of Treasury employees were far too reminiscent of the British model. Feeling betrayed by Madison, Hamilton argued that his former comrade's discrimination proposal was simply unworkable. To track down the original holders of securities and parcel out their shares of the profits would be a bureaucratic nightmare. He also considered speculation to be an inescapable, if unsavory, aspect of functioning financial markets.

As the hero of the old soldiers, Washington confronted a ticklish dilemma, and Madison later attested that the president's mind was "strongly exercised" by the debate. 9 9 On the one hand, Washington sympathized with veterans who had unloaded their IOUs to "unfeeling, avaricious speculators." On the one hand, Washington sympathized with veterans who had unloaded their IOUs to "unfeeling, avaricious speculators."10 At the same time, he had warned his men at the end of the war not to part with these certificates, telling them bluntly in general orders in May 1783: "The General thinks it necessary to caution the soldiers against the foolish practice . . . of disposing of their notes and securities of pay at a very great discount, when it is evident the speculators on those securities must hereafter obtain the full payment of their nominal value." At the same time, he had warned his men at the end of the war not to part with these certificates, telling them bluntly in general orders in May 1783: "The General thinks it necessary to caution the soldiers against the foolish practice . . . of disposing of their notes and securities of pay at a very great discount, when it is evident the speculators on those securities must hereafter obtain the full payment of their nominal value."11 Washington's words had been prophetic. Because Congress had ordered Hamilton's report, Washington did not want to overstep his bounds by lobbying for it, and he remained cagey in discussing it. To David Stuart, he wrote circ.u.mspectly, "Mr Madison, on the question of discrimination, was actuated, I am persuaded, by the purest motives and most heartfelt conviction. But the subject was delicate and perhaps had better not have been stirred." Washington's words had been prophetic. Because Congress had ordered Hamilton's report, Washington did not want to overstep his bounds by lobbying for it, and he remained cagey in discussing it. To David Stuart, he wrote circ.u.mspectly, "Mr Madison, on the question of discrimination, was actuated, I am persuaded, by the purest motives and most heartfelt conviction. But the subject was delicate and perhaps had better not have been stirred."12 While Washington introduced no ringing opinion during the debate, his silence was tantamount to approval of the Hamiltonian system. At this point he was still a sacred figure in American politics, making Hamilton a convenient lightning rod for protests. It was also expedient for Washington to allow Hamilton to engage in the rough-and-tumble of political bargaining, while he himself held fast to the ceremonial trappings of the presidency. Taken aback by Madison's defection and the vehement schism provoked by the public credit report, Washington was especially disheartened that the country had split along geographic lines, placing him at odds with the South. He wrote privately that if the northern states moved "in a solid phalanx" and the southern states were "less tenacious of their interest," then the latter had only themselves to blame.13 The debate over the Hamiltonian program opened a rift between Washington and his Virginia a.s.sociates that only widened through the years. Reflecting their bias in favor of landed wealth and against paper a.s.sets, members of the chronically indebted gentry recoiled in horror at the northern financial revolution ushered in by Hamilton. The tobacco market had fallen into a deep slump, making these pinched Virginia planters ripe for tirades against northern speculators, who seemed to profit from easy winnings. Also, Virginia had already paid much of its debt and therefore opposed a federal takeover of state debt, which would reward irresponsible states that had repudiated their loans. Things went so far that in some Virginia circles Washington was regarded as almost a traitor to his cla.s.s. When David Stuart reported that spring on extreme hostility in Virginia toward the new government, Washington grew distressed. "Your description of the public mind in Virginia gives me pain," he replied. "It seems to be more irritable, sour, and discontented than . . . it is in any other state in the Union."14 On February 22 Madison's proposal to discriminate in favor of original holders of government debt was roundly defeated in the House, 36-13. In a preview of problems to come for Washington, 9 of the 13 negative votes came from his home state of Virginia. On February 22 Madison's proposal to discriminate in favor of original holders of government debt was roundly defeated in the House, 36-13. In a preview of problems to come for Washington, 9 of the 13 negative votes came from his home state of Virginia.

THE DISCONTENT OF SOUTHERN PLANTERS was further inflamed in February 1790 when Quakers, clad in black hats and coats, filed a pair of explosive pet.i.tions with Congress. One proposed an immediate halt to the slave trade, while the other urged the unthinkable: the gradual abolition of slavery itself. Because they did not believe that G.o.d discriminated between blacks and whites, many Quakers had freed their own slaves and even, in some cases, compensated them for past injustice. Washington had torn feelings about the Quakers. The previous October he had sent an address to the Society of Quakers, full of high praise, a.s.serting that "there is no denomination among us who are more exemplary and useful citizens."15 At the same time the Quakers, as pacifists, had tended to shun wartime duty. At the same time the Quakers, as pacifists, had tended to shun wartime duty.

On the slavery question, Washington reacted with extreme caution. Although he had voiced support for emanc.i.p.ation in private letters, to do so publicly, as he tried to forge a still precarious national unity, would have been a huge and controversial leap. The timing of the Quaker pet.i.tions could not have been more troublesome. To David Stuart, he worried that the pet.i.tions "will certainly tend to promote" southern suspicions, then added: "It gives particular umbrage that the Quakers should be so busy in this business."16 Washington and other founders who opposed slavery, at least in theory, thought they had conveniently sidestepped the issue at the Const.i.tutional Convention by stipulating that the slave trade was safe until 1808. But because Benjamin Franklin, as president of the Pennsylvania Abolition Society, had signed one of the Quaker pet.i.tions, they could not be summarily dismissed. James Jackson of Georgia warned grimly of civil war if the pet.i.tions pa.s.sed, claiming that "the people of the southern states will resist one tyranny as soon as another." Washington and other founders who opposed slavery, at least in theory, thought they had conveniently sidestepped the issue at the Const.i.tutional Convention by stipulating that the slave trade was safe until 1808. But because Benjamin Franklin, as president of the Pennsylvania Abolition Society, had signed one of the Quaker pet.i.tions, they could not be summarily dismissed. James Jackson of Georgia warned grimly of civil war if the pet.i.tions pa.s.sed, claiming that "the people of the southern states will resist one tyranny as soon as another."17 Responding to planter panic, James Madison led congressional opposition to any interference with slavery, unfurling the banner of states' rights. Although Hamilton had cofounded the New York Manumission Society, he, like Washington, remained silent on the issue, hoping to push through the controversial funding program. In fact, virtually all of the founders, despite their dislike of slavery, enlisted in this conspiracy of silence, taking the convenient path of deferring action to a later generation. Responding to planter panic, James Madison led congressional opposition to any interference with slavery, unfurling the banner of states' rights. Although Hamilton had cofounded the New York Manumission Society, he, like Washington, remained silent on the issue, hoping to push through the controversial funding program. In fact, virtually all of the founders, despite their dislike of slavery, enlisted in this conspiracy of silence, taking the convenient path of deferring action to a later generation.

Washington tended to conceal his inmost thoughts about slavery, revealing them only to intimates who shared his opposition. He knew of the virulence of Virginia's reaction to the Quaker pet.i.tions, especially when Stuart told him that the mere talk of emanc.i.p.ation had alarmed planters and lowered the price of slaves, with many "sold for the merest trifle."18 In replying to Stuart, Washington seemed to have no sympathy with the pet.i.tions, which he dismissed as doomed. On the morning of March 16 he met with Warner Mifflin, a leading Quaker abolitionist, and deemed the conversation important enough to record in his diary. Mifflin had decried the "injustice and impolicy of keeping these people in a state of slavery with declarations, however, that he did not wish for more than a gradual abolition, or to see any infraction of the Const.i.tution to effect it." Washington listened attentively to Mifflin, then employed his famous gift of silence: "To these I replied that, as it was a matter which might come before me for official decision, I was not inclined to express any sentim[en]ts on the merits of the question before this should happen." In replying to Stuart, Washington seemed to have no sympathy with the pet.i.tions, which he dismissed as doomed. On the morning of March 16 he met with Warner Mifflin, a leading Quaker abolitionist, and deemed the conversation important enough to record in his diary. Mifflin had decried the "injustice and impolicy of keeping these people in a state of slavery with declarations, however, that he did not wish for more than a gradual abolition, or to see any infraction of the Const.i.tution to effect it." Washington listened attentively to Mifflin, then employed his famous gift of silence: "To these I replied that, as it was a matter which might come before me for official decision, I was not inclined to express any sentim[en]ts on the merits of the question before this should happen."19 The Quaker memorials ended up stillborn in Congress. In late March, under Madison's leadership, legislators quietly tabled the proposals by deciding they lacked jurisdiction to interfere with the slave trade prior to 1808. "The memorial of the Quakers (and a very mal-apropos one it was) has at length been put to sleep" and will not "awake before the year 1808," Washington informed Stuart.20 His failure to use the presidency as a bully pulpit to air his opposition to slavery remains a blemish on his record. He continued to fall back on the self-serving fantasy that slavery would fade away in future years. The public had no idea how much he wrestled inwardly with the issue. His final comments to Stuart on the Quaker pet.i.tions are complacent in tone, designed to conceal his conflicted feelings: "The introductions of the [Quaker] memorial respecting slavery was, to be sure, not only an ill-judged piece of business, but occasioned a great waste of time." His failure to use the presidency as a bully pulpit to air his opposition to slavery remains a blemish on his record. He continued to fall back on the self-serving fantasy that slavery would fade away in future years. The public had no idea how much he wrestled inwardly with the issue. His final comments to Stuart on the Quaker pet.i.tions are complacent in tone, designed to conceal his conflicted feelings: "The introductions of the [Quaker] memorial respecting slavery was, to be sure, not only an ill-judged piece of business, but occasioned a great waste of time."21 In April, shortly after his n.o.ble defeat over the slavery issue, Benjamin Franklin died. He was the only American whose stature remote