While you read pros and cons about the General, you never read about Newburgh and how we have a democratic government because of what the General didn’t do that week. There are plenty of books and articles about what he did, but none about what he didn’t do: seize power.
After years I have come to realize that the General certainly was ambitious, but ambitious for the applause of his countrymen—not for power over his countrymen. Yes, the General cared about his public image and sought fame. Gouverneur Morris said the General’s greatest moral weakness was his “inordinate” love of fame. But so what? The General sought fame but not power. I will try to tell my great-grandchildren that there is a huge difference, and because of that difference, unlike our neighbors to the south, today we rule ourselves. Why, the whole balance between the executive and the legislative branches is due to the General. I read how Madison and Hamilton drafted the Constitution. But there never would have been a president included in that noble document if the delegates had not been looking at the General sitting right in front of them. They never would have allowed a chief executive if they had not known it would be the General.
Of course, there are some doubts about our presidential-congressional system these days. The last presidential election would have mortified the General, decided by slogans like “Tippecanoe and Tyler too” and drawings of Harrison living in a log cabin when he really lived in a mansion. Still, almost 80 percent of us voted, which I’m told is the highest turnout ever. Now we have a president and Congress that can’t agree on anything. I don’t know how many votes Congress has taken on whether to have a national bank. The other day, a crowd burned President Tyler in effigy, threw rocks at the White House, and cried out for his impeachment. Still, all these European visitors come over here and tell us what a great system of government we have, and I suppose it’s better than any other.
I am pleased that our people are not unduly influenced by the press or academics. That’s why we will be celebrating the General’s birthday tomorrow with as much spirit as the Fourth of July. The people realize, as Congressman Fisher Ames wrote, that the General may have made errors in judgment, but there were no blemishes on his virtue. Of course, the politicians know where the people stand, and they constantly invoke the General’s name. Why, on the General’s last birthday, I read in our local newspaper how one of our state legislators, Abraham Lincoln, who is no fool, compared the General to the sun: “Washington is the mightiest name on earth—long since mightiest in the cause of civil liberty, still mightiest in moral reformation. On that name no eulogy is expected. It cannot be. To add brightness to the sun, or glory to the name of Washington is alike impossible. Let none attempt it. In solemn awe we pronounce the name, and in its naked deathless splendor leave it shining on.”
Tomorrow Lincoln will probably show off his ring, which he claims contains a piece of the General’s hair. It’s amazing how many politicians wear rings they say contain a piece of his coffin or a lock of the General’s hair. I don’t blame them. It’s almost as many as the homes and hotels that claim “George Washington slept here.”
I don’t blame these politicians. They, like the people, sense the General was a great man. They know he resigned his General’s commission and declined to run for a third term as president, but I doubt many have ever heard of Newburgh and how the General refused power there. They do not know what temptations he must have faced. The General not only exercised power but turned away from power. Looking at some of our recent presidents, and what I expect will be the case with presidents to come, I think that is the rarest of qualities.
I believe the American people sense the greatness of someone who can seek fame and still turn away from power, but it is ironic that foreigners seem better able to voice their admiration for this supreme trait of the General. Perhaps this is because of their experience with absolute monarchs. On the way from Newburgh to the General’s resignation before Congress, we met with a Dutch businessman, Gerald Vogels, in Philadelphia. “Josiah,” he said, “I will write my wife that I just saw the greatest man who has appeared on the surface of this earth.” At the time I thought this a gross exaggeration, but with the exception of our Lord and Savior, I am not sure now that this was an exaggeration at all.
I don’t know if it is true, but I read that King George III asked the American painter Benjamin West what the General was going to do after resigning his commission, and West told him the General, instead of becoming king, only wanted to return to his farm. The king reportedly responded, “If Washington does that, he will be the greatest man in the world.”
And of course there’s that story of how Napoleon, who knew something about seeking both fame and power, said despairingly when imprisoned on St. Helena: “The people expected me to be another Washington.”
No wonder the English poet Lord Byron turned his “Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte” into an ode to the General.
the first—the last—the best—
The Cincinnatus of the West,
Whom Envy dared not hate.
Bequeath’d the name of Washington,
To make man blush there was but one!
What these powerful Europeans knew and what many Americans sense is that the General did not seek power or riches. Instead, I have come to realize, all the General sought was the praise of his countrymen. He received that, and he deserves it.
While I was so proud of what the General did that day, I have reflected on whether I was wrong to doubt the General’s intentions that week. Many now assume in retrospect that the General, because he refused power, never was tempted. I don’t think so. I suspect the General himself had doubts as to what course he should or would follow. But if he had doubts, if he had temptations, does that not make him all the greater? I keep thinking of one of the General’s favorite lines from Cato: “’Tis not in mortals to command success, but we’ll do more . . . we’ll deserve it.”
His countrymen may not be aware of what the General did at Newburgh that week, but they know about his turning back his sword to Congress and refusing to run for a third term as president. The poet Philip Freneau, although critical of some of the General’s policies as president during his second term, conveyed that feeling when he wrote:
O Washington!—thrice glorious name,
What due rewards can man decree—
Empires are far below thine aim,
And sceptres have no charm for thee;
Virtue alone has your regard,
And she must be your great reward.