XXIII. PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

"Now we must follow up this grand victory with harder blows," remarked Washington to Lafayette.

"Then you do not believe the war is ended yet?" Lafayette replied inquiringly.

"Of course not. The king will not yield to 'rebels' so willingly as that. We must concentrate our entire force upon New York now."

"Every lover of his country ought to be stimulated to greater deeds now," added Lafayette.

"And Congress ought to respond promptly and liberally to the demands of the hour," said Washington. "The legislatures of the several Colonies ought to be prompt and liberal, also, in providing men and means. Give us men and supplies equal to the emergency, and our independence can be permanently established."

Washington waited upon Congress personally, and he wrote letters to the governors of the several Colonies, pleading for more liberal aid than ever, that the war might be successfully prosecuted to the bitter end.

While these negotiations were progressing, the king superseded Sir Henry Clinton by the appointment of Sir Guy Carleton as commander-in-chief of the British army. The latter commander was in favor of peace, and he appealed to the British Parliament for conciliatory action; nor was his plea in vain. After a long and acrimonious struggle, Parliament adopted a resolution advising reconciliation. From that moment, peace negotiations were commenced, but were not fully consummated until Nov. 30, 1782, at Paris. It was the nineteenth day of April, 1783, when the welcome news, received in this country, was announced to the army.

The surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, contrary to the expectations of Washington, thus proved to be the end of the war. In just eight years from the time the first battle of the Revolution was fought at Lexington, April 19, 1775, the proclamation of peace was made to the army. "Thus ended a long and arduous conflict, in which Great Britain expended near a hundred millions of money, with a hundred thousand lives, and won nothing. America endured every cruelty and distress, lost many lives and much treasure, but delivered herself from a foreign dominion, and gained a rank among the nations of the earth."

The enemy evacuated New York and other posts and returned to England, and Washington occupied the same, and proceeded to disband the army. Addressing his officers and companions in arms, with deep emotion he said:

"With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former have been glorious and honorable. I cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged if each of you will come and take me by the hand."

He could say no more. Tears blinded his eyes, and emotion caused his voice to tremble. Silently, one after another, these heroes of many battles and sufferings approached and grasped his hand. No one spoke a word. Each felt more than language could express. The scene was affecting beyond description.

Congress was in session at Annapolis, and thither he journeyed to return his commission. A perfect ovation attended him all the way. The occupants of every town, village, and farmhouse turned out to hail the conqueror. Men, women, and children vied with each other in demonstrations of love and honor. Cannon pealed, bells rung, music wafted, voices sounded, banners waved, in honor "of the only man," as Jefferson said, "who had the confidence of all."

Congress received him in a manner to attest their profoundest respect and love. Resigning his commission, he said:

"Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action, and, bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer my commission, and take my leave of all the employments of public life."

Our American Cincinnatus retired to his farm and plough, which he left eight years before at the call of his country. He designed to spend the remainder of his days in retirement at Mount Vernon. His large estates demanded his attention, and his tastes for agricultural pursuits adapted him to the situation.

Under his careful and efficient supervision, his Mount Vernon estate rapidly improved. He enlarged his house, so that he might accommodate the numerous distinguished visitors who now paid him their respects. He studied agriculture by consulting the best authorities, doing it not alone for the purpose of improving his own estates, but also to aid his newly emancipated country in developing its resources.

He lent his great influence to educational and religious enterprises, so essential to the stability and progress of the free and independent Colonies. Through his influence, two companies were organized to extend the navigation of the James and Potomac rivers. Grateful for his aid in creating enterprises of so great public benefit, the General Assembly presented him with one hundred and fifty shares of the stock, worth fifty thousand dollars. He declined to accept the large gift, saying:

"What will the world think if they should hear that I have taken fifty thousand dollars for this affair? Will they not suspect, on my next proposition, that money is my motive? Thus for the sake of money, which, indeed, I never coveted from my country, I may lose the power to do her some service, which may be worth more than all money."

He assured the Assembly that if they would contribute the amount for a national university in what is now the District of Columbia, and a literary institution in Rockbridge County, since called Washington College, he should esteem their gift even more than he would were he to accept and devote it to his own private use; and they complied with his wishes.

As before the war, he continued to remember the poor, whose veneration for him was greater than ever. His methods of assisting them were often original, and always practical; as, for example, keeping a boat on the Potomac for their use in fishing. Here was an opportunity for them to obtain subsistence without sacrificing the virtues of industry and self-reliance.

Mr. Peake, who had charge of one of his plantations, said:

"I had orders to fill a corn-house every year for the sole use of the poor in my neighborhood, to whom it was a seasonable and most precious relief, saving numbers of poor women and children from miserable famine, and blessing them with a cheerful plenteousness of bread."

One year, when there was a scarcity of corn, and the price of it went up to a dollar per bushel, the suffering among the poor was much increased. Washington ordered his agent to distribute all that could be spared from the granaries, and he purchased several hundred bushels in addition, at the high price, to be used in charity.

Governor Johnson of Maryland, a hero of '76, related the following incident to Mr. Weems:

The governor went to the Virginia Springs for his health. The place was crowded with people, but he secured "a mattress in the hut of a very honest baker" whom he knew. The baker did a large business, and every day Mr. Johnson noticed that many poor negroes came for loaves, and took them away without paying a cent.

"Stophel," said Mr. Johnson one day, "you seem to sell a world of bread here every day, but notwithstanding that, I fear you don't gain much by it."

"What makes you think so?" replied Stophel.

"You credit too much."

"Not I, indeed, sir; I don't credit at all."

"Ay, how do you make that out? Don't I see the poor people every day carrying away your bread, and yet paying you nothing?"

"Pshaw! what of that? They will pay me all in a lump at last."

"At last!" exclaimed the governor, "at the last day, I suppose. You think the Almighty will stand paymaster, and wipe off all your old scores for you at a dash."

"Not by any means, squire. The poor bakers can't give such long credit; but I will tell you how we work the matter. Washington directed me to supply these poor people at his expense, and I do it. Believe me, squire, he has often, at the end of the season, paid me as much as eighty dollars, and that, too, for poor creatures who did not know the hand that fed them; for I had strict orders from him not to mention it to anybody."

In a former chapter we learned the magnanimity of his conduct towards one Payne, who knocked him down for a supposed insult. Mr. Payne relates that after the Revolution he called upon Washington at Mount Vernon.

"As I drew near the house," he says, "I began to experience a rising fear lest he should call to mind the blow I had given him in former days. Washington met me at the door with a kind welcome, and conducted me into an adjoining room where Mrs. Washington sat.

"'Here, my dear,' said he, presenting me to his lady, 'here is the little man you have so often heard me talk of, and who, on a difference between us one day, had the resolution to knock me down, big as I am; I know you will honor him as he deserves, for I assure you he has the heart of a true Virginian.'"

Mr. Payne adds: "He said this with an air which convinced me that his long familiarity with war had not robbed him of his nobleness of heart. And Mrs. Washington looked at him as if he appeared to her greater and lovelier than ever."

The same industry distinguished him on his return to his farms, for which he was so well known before the war. His rule was to rise at four o'clock and retire at nine. The forenoon was employed in labor and overseeing the work on his plantations. The presence of company did not interrupt his systematic methods. He would say to such:

"Gentlemen, I must beg leave of absence this forenoon. Here are books, music, and amusements; consider yourselves at home, and be happy."

But Washington was not allowed to remain long in private life. In 1787, a convention assembled in Philadelphia to form a confederacy of States. Washington was a member of that body, and was unanimously made its presiding officer. The convention sat four months, in which time the confederacy of States was consummated, called the United States, with the present Constitution essentially.

This new order of things required the election of a president, and Washington was unanimously elected. He was inaugurated on the thirtieth day of April, 1789, in the city of New York, then the seat of government. That the position was not one of his own seeking is quite evident from a letter which he wrote to General Knox:

"My movements to the chair of government will be accompanied by feelings not unlike those of a culprit who is going to the place of his execution, so unwilling am I, in the evening of life, nearly consumed in public cares, to quit a peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties, without the competency of political skill, abilities, and inclinations which are necessary to manage the helm."

His journey to New York was accomplished in his own carriage, drawn by four horses. No king or conqueror was ever treated to a more enthusiastic ovation than was he from Mount Vernon to New York. The expression of a lad to his father indicates the exalted notions which the common people entertained of the great general. On getting a good view of him the lad exclaimed:

"Why, pa, he is only a man, after all!"

At Trenton, where he crossed the Delaware with his retreating, depleted army, his welcome was both imposing and beautiful. Upon the bridge an arch was erected, adorned with laurel leaves and flowers. Upon the crown of the arch, formed of leaves and flowers, were the words:

"December 26th, 1776."

Beneath was the sentence:

"The Defender of the Mothers will be the Protector of the Daughters!"

The president was obliged to pass under this arch to enter Trenton, where the female portion of the population met him. On one side little girls dressed in white stood, each one bearing a basket of flowers. On the other side were arranged the young ladies, and behind them the married women. The moment Washington and his suit approached the arch, the girls scattered their flowers before him, and the whole company of females sung the following ode, written for the occasion by Governor Howell:

The reader may well suppose that his reception in New York as the first President of the United States, and the "greatest general on earth," as many supposed, was grand indeed. No expense or pains were spared to make it worthy of the occasion.

Washington called to his cabinet, Thomas Jefferson, Secretary of State; Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury; General Knox, Secretary of War; Edmund Randolph, Attorney-General; and John Jay, Chief Justice.

He said, in his inaugural address:

"When I contemplate the interposition of Providence, as it was visibly manifested in guiding us through the Revolution, in preparing us for the reception of a general government, and in conciliating the good will of the people of America towards one another after its adoption, I feel myself oppressed and almost overwhelmed with a sense of the divine munificence. I feel that nothing is due to my personal agency in all those complicated and wonderful events, except what can simply be attributed to the exertions of an honest zeal for the good of my country."

The parade and pomp attending the first presidency in New York City exceeded anything of the kind we behold at the present day. Considering the condition of the country, as compared with its wealth and prominence now, the style of living and display in presidential circles was remarkable. Washington rode in a chariot drawn by six fine horses, attended by a retinue of servants. These horses were expensively caparisoned. His stable, under the charge of Bishop, his favorite servant, held twelve of the finest horses in the country. Two of them were splendid white chargers for the saddle. After the seat of government was removed to Philadelphia, the stables were under the care of German John, "and the grooming of the white chargers will rather surprise the moderns." Mr. Custis says:

"The night before the horses were to appear on the street, they were covered over with a paste, of which whiting was the principal component part; then the animals were swathed in body-cloths, and left to sleep upon clean straw. In the morning the composition had become hard, was well rubbed in and curried and brushed, which process gave to the coats a beautiful, glossy, and satin-like appearance. The hoofs were then blacked and polished, the mouths washed, teeth picked and cleansed, and the leopard-skin housings being properly adjusted, the white chargers were led out for service."

While the seat of government was in New York the president visited the New England States. He had been brought almost to the door of death by a malignant carbuncle, and it was thought, on his recovery, that such a tour would be beneficial. Besides, the people of New England were clamorous to see him.

The sickness referred to confined him to his room six weeks, during which time "Dr. Bard never quitted him." The public anxiety was very great, and the president understood full well that his condition was very critical. One day he said to the doctor:

"I want your candid opinion as to the probable termination of this sickness."

"Your condition is serious, but I expect that you will recover," Dr. Bard replied.

"Do not flatter me with vain hopes," responded the president. "I am not afraid to die, and I am prepared to hear the worst."

"I confess, Mr. President, that I am not without serious apprehensions," added the doctor.

"Whether to-night or twenty years hence makes no difference; I know that I am in the hands of a good Providence," was the royal answer of the Christian ruler.

His tour through the New England States was attended with every demonstration of honor that love and confidence could devise. At Boston the president's well-known punctuality set aside all conventional rules, and asserted its superiority. A company of cavalry volunteered to escort him to Salem. The time appointed to start was 8 o'clock in the morning. When the Old South clock struck the hour, the escort had not appeared; nevertheless Washington started, and reached Charles River bridge before the cavalry overtook him. The commander of the cavalry once belonged to Washington's "military family," and the latter turned to him and said:

"Major, I thought you had been too long in my family not to know when it was eight o'clock."

At Philadelphia, to which place the seat of government was removed in 1790, the president frequently entertained members of Congress at his own table. They soon learned that there was no waiting for guests in his mansion. Precisely at the hour, Washington took his seat at the table, whether guests had arrived or not. One day a member came in ten minutes after the family were seated at the dining table. The president greeted him with the remark: "We are punctual here."

He arranged with a gentleman to meet him with reference to the purchase of a pair of horses. He named the hour. The owner of the horses was ten minutes behind the time, and he found the president engaged with other parties. It was a whole week before he was able to see the president again. The latter taught the dilatory man an important lesson.

At Philadelphia, a house belonging to Robert Morris, the national financier, was rented, and converted into a presidential mansion as imposing and elegant, for that day, as the "White House" at Washington is for our day. It was not contemplated to make Philadelphia the permanent seat of government. Washington thought the capital should be located on the Potomac, and it was respect for his judgment especially that located it where it is.

One Reuben Rouzy owed Washington a thousand pounds. An agent of the president, without his knowledge, brought an action against Rouzy for the money, in consequence of which he was lodged in jail. A friend of the debtor suggested that Washington might know nothing of the affair, whereupon Rouzy sent a petition to the president for his release. The next post brought an order for his release, with a full discharge, and a severe reprimand to the agent.

Rouzy was restored to his family, who ever afterwards remembered their "beloved Washington" in their daily prayers. Providence smiled upon the debtor, so that in a few years he offered the whole amount, with interest, to Washington.

"The debt is already discharged," said Washington.

"The debt of my family to you, the preserver of their parent, can never be discharged," answered Rouzy. "I insist upon your taking it."

"I will receive it only upon one condition," added the president.

"And what is that?"

"That I may divide it among your children," replied Washington.

The affair was finally settled on this basis, and the amount was divided at once among the children.

The success of his first presidential term created the universal desire that he should serve a second term.

"It is impossible; my private business demands my attention," he said to Jefferson.

"Public business is more important," suggested Jefferson. "Besides, the confidence of the whole Union is centred in you."

"I long for home and rest," retorted Washington. "I am wearing out with public service."

"I trust and pray God that you will determine to make a further sacrifice of your tranquility and happiness to the public good," remarked Hamilton, joining in the plea for a second term of service.

"It will be time enough for you to have a successor when it shall please God to call you from this world," said Robert Morris; thus limiting the demands of his country only by the demand of death.

His objections were overcome, and he was unanimously elected to a second term, and was inaugurated March 4, 1793, in Philadelphia.

His second presidential term proved equally successful with the first. Serious difficulties with England, France, and Spain were settled; a treaty with the Indian tribes was affected, and a humane policy adopted towards them. The mechanic arts, agriculture, manufactures, and internal improvements, advanced rapidly under his administration. Domestic troubles disappeared, and peace and harmony prevailed throughout the land; in view of which, Jefferson said:

"Never did nature and fortune combine more perfectly to make a man great and to place him in the same constellation with whatever worthies have merited from man an everlasting remembrance."

During his presidency he made a tour through the Southern States. His arrangement for the same furnishes a remarkable illustration of the order and punctuality for which he was known from boyhood. Thinking that the heads of the several State departments might have occasion to write to him, he wrote out his route thus:

"I shall be, on the eighth of April, at Fredericksburg; the eleventh, at Richmond; the fourteenth, at Petersburg; the sixteenth, at Halifax; the eighteenth, at Tarborough; the twentieth, at Newtown;" and thus on to the end, a journey of nineteen hundred miles.

Custis says: "His punctuality on that long journey astonished every one. Scarcely would the artillery-men unlimber the cannon when the order would be given, 'Light your matches; the white chariot is in full view!'" Washington rode in a white chariot.

His industry, which had become proverbial, enabled him to perform a great amount of work. General Henry Lee once said to him:

"Mr. President, we are amazed at the amount of work you are able to accomplish."

"I rise at four o'clock, sir, and a great deal of the work I perform is done while others are asleep," was Washington's reply.

At the same time his thoroughness and method appeared in everything. Mr. Sparks says:

"During his presidency it was likewise his custom to subject the treasury reports and accompanying documents to the process of tutelar condensation, with a vast expenditure of labor and patience."

Another biographer says:

"His accounts, while engaged in the service of his country, were so accurately kept, that to this hour they are an example held up before the nations."

In all these things the reader must note that "the boy is father of the man."

Under his administration there was no demand, as now, for "civil service reform." His nearest relative and best friend enjoyed no advantage over others for position. Real qualifications and experience for office he required. Alluding to the severity with which he treated the idea of giving friends and favorites position, a public man remarked:

"It is unfortunate to be a Virginian."

At the close of his long service, he wrote:

"In every nomination to office, I have endeavored, as far as my own knowledge extended, or information could be obtained, to make fitness of character my primary object."

At one time two applicants for an important office presented their appeals, through friends. One of them was an intimate friend of the president, often at his table. The other was a political enemy, though a man of experience. No one really expected that his political enemy would be appointed, but he was.

"Your appointment was unjust," a person dared to say to Washington.

"I receive my friend with a cordial welcome," answered Washington. "He is welcome to my house and welcome to my heart; but, with all his good qualities, he is not a man of business. His opponent is, with all his political hostility to me, a man of business. My private feelings have nothing to do with this case. I am not George Washington, but President of the United States; as George Washington, I would do this man any kindness in my power; but as President of the United States, I can do nothing."

In 1793 Washington was deeply affected by the news of Lafayette's exile and incarceration in Germany. He took measures at once to secure his release, if possible, and sent him a thousand guineas. Lafayette's son, who was named after the American general, George Washington Lafayette, came to this country, accompanied by his tutor, when his father was driven into exile. After the close of Washington's public life, young Lafayette became a member of his family at Mount Vernon. His father was not liberated until 1797.

The following maxims, gleaned from his prolific writings, disclose the principles which governed his actions in public life, and at the same time they magnify his ability as a writer. When we reflect that his schooldays embraced instruction only in reading, writing, and arithmetic, to which he added surveying later, the clearness and elegance of his style become a matter of surprise. His epistolary correspondence is a model to all who would attain excellence in the art; and his grasp of thought and practical view of government and science, are unsurpassed by any statesman. Of the large number of notable extracts we might collect from his writings, we have space for a few only, as follows:

"Our political system may be compared to the mechanism of a clock, and we should derive a lesson from it; for it answers no good purpose to keep the smaller wheels in order if the greater one, which is the support and prime mover of the whole, is neglected."

"Common danger brought the States into confederacy; and on their union our safety and importance depend."

"Remember that actions, and not the commission, make the officer. More is expected from him than the title."

"Knowledge is, in every country, the surest basis of public happiness."

"True friendship is a plant of slow growth, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the appellation."

"To share the common lot, and participate in conveniences which the army, from the peculiarity of our circumstances, are obliged to undergo, has with me, been a fundamental principle."

"The value of liberty is enhanced by the difficulty of its attainment, and the worth of character appreciated by the trial of adversity."

"It is our duty to make the best of our misfortunes, and not suffer passion to interfere with our interest and the public good."

"In my estimation, more permanent and genuine happiness is to be found in the sequestered walks of connubial life than in the giddy rounds of promiscuous pleasure, or the more tumultuous and imposing scenes of successful ambition."

"Without virtue and without integrity, the finest talents and the most brilliant accomplishments can never gain the respect and conciliate the esteem of the truly valuable part of mankind."

"Few men have virtue to withstand the highest bidder."

"A good moral character is the first essential in a man. It is, therefore, highly important to endeavor not only to be learned, but virtuous."

"The eyes of Argus are upon us, and no slip will pass unnoticed."

"It is much easier to avoid disagreements than to remove discontents."

"The man who would steer clear of shelves and rocks, must know where they lie."

"Do not conceive that fine clothes make fine men, any more than fine feathers make fine birds."

"We ought not to look back, unless it be to derive useful lessons from past errors, and for the purpose of profiting by dear-bought experience."

"Gaming is the child of Avarice, the brother of Iniquity, and the father of Mischief."

"Religion is as necessary to reason as reason is to religion. The one cannot exist without the other."

"The propitious smiles of heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right, which heaven itself has ordained."

"Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail, in exclusion of religious principle."

We might fill many pages with similar quotations from his writings, but must forbear.

He was urged strongly to serve his country a third presidential term, but he resolutely declined. Retiring from public service, he left a remarkable farewell address to the people of the United States, which is here given in full. Every American boy who has patriot blood in his veins will delight in being familiar with its every thought and precept.