George Washington’s First Principles of Executive Leadership

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First Congress, George Washington, Kathleen Bartoloni-Tuazon, presidency, title controversy 1789

Editor’s note:
On Wednesday, August 3, our summer lecture series continues with Dr. Kathleen Bartoloni-Tuazon’s book talk about her recent publication For Fear of An Elective King: George Washington and the Presidential Title Controversy of 1789. Here, she offers a preview of her work. A limited number of books will be available for purchase at the talk. Pre-registration is requested.

–by Kathleen Bartoloni-Tuazon

I should like to be informed … of the public opinion of … myself—not so much of what may be thought the commendable parts, if any, of my conduct, as of those which are conceived to blemishes. … If they are really such, the knowledge of them … will go more than half way towards effecting a reform.

So wrote George Washington to his son-in-law and confidant David Stuart in July of 1789, in the early months of his presidency. He asked Stuart to be his confidential informant about his conduct as president and to write to him “without any reserve.” Washington realized the difficult and controversial position he had inherited with the office of the presidency. His continued popularity derived from more than his war hero status—it also stemmed from his ability to apprehend and reflect the pulse of popular opinion. Importantly, Washington comprehended the importance of the will of the people under the Constitution. He told Stuart that he wanted to know about local attitudes toward his leadership and correct any misunderstandings since “at a distance from the theatre of action, truth is not always related without embellishments.” He understood that calming public fears about the presidency—by mirroring public opinion when he agreed with it or considering a modification of his positions if the people demanded it—was an integral part of his leadership and even pledged to Stuart that he would reevaluate his stances and “effect a reform” if the public deemed his actions misguided. Washington recognized that “the eyes of America—perhaps of the world—are turned to this Government.” Perhaps no one was watched more closely than Washington.

Detail of George Washington, Arriving in New York City, April 30, 1789 (sic) by Arsene Hippolyte Rivey (New-York Historical Society)

Yet, in the spring of 1789, within weeks of the beginning of the first Congress under the new Constitution and even before Washington had been inaugurated, the House and the Senate became embroiled in their first dispute—how to address the president. The Senate majority favored a lofty title, while the House stood unanimously and adamantly opposed to anything more than the simple and unadorned “President.” The debate spilled far beyond the chamber doors and raged all summer long—Congress, the press, and individuals throughout the country debated more than thirty titles, most with royal overtones. Indeed, the eventual resolution in favor of the modest title of “President,” without an exalted introduction like some form of “Highness” or “Majesty,” was far from certain in a world that remained full of monarchs.

In 1789, much of America recognized the need for presidential authority and energetic leadership despite the ever-present alarm over the potentially abusive power or weak corruptibility of the office. Nothing signaled these apprehensions over the presidency more than the unanimous election of universally trusted George Washington as the new nation’s first president. To his credit, Washington understood this. Although his celebrity encouraged an elite court-like atmosphere wherever he went, Washington counteracted these tendencies early on with his opposition to a regal title. During the title controversy, he brought to his leadership both a widely admired perspective of republican reserve and a willingness to take cues from the people. By consciously mirroring the views of the majority of his countrymen and women, who disdained regal titles as he did, he encouraged public acceptance of the presidency, which added political legitimacy to the office and the new national government. During the unsettled early days of the Constitutional era, Washington imagined a course for the emerging nation’s executive that calmed public fears about the office by embracing the principles of modesty and a nod to the people. The republican resolution of the title controversy, a simple civic title of “President,” which both Washington and the people supported, established an approach to leadership and authority that fledged the presidency’s power by not flaunting it.

 

[1] George Washington to David Stuart, July 26, 1789, William Wright Abbot, Dorothy Twohig, Philander D. Chase, David R. Hoth, Christine Sternberg Patrick, and Theodore J. Crackel, eds. The Papers of George Washington: Presidential Series (PGW; Presidential). 14 vols. (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1987—), 3:321–27.

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George Washington’s Brush with Death (Part 2)

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anthrax, First Congress, George Washington, James Madison, Ralph Izard, Washington's illness 1789

Part 1 of this piece on George Washington’s mysterious 1789 illness.

–by William diGiacomantonio

Hand-colored Currier & Ives lithograph depicting Washington’s reception in Trenton as he traveled to NYC in 1789 to take the presidential oath. (Library of Congress)

One of Smith’s fellow Representatives—also named Smith, but from South Carolina, and evidently better connected—provided a more detailed description of the malady the same day. (The reading is not for the faint of heart.)

[Washington] was lying extremely ill in bed—it was not known at the time, but we have been since informed told, that he was in some danger—I had a long conversation yesterday with his Doctor [Samuel Bard], who informed me that the President had been troubled with a Bile on his Seat, which had been so inflamed by his riding on horseback as to grow into an Imposthume as large as my two fists—this occasioned a fever of a threatening nature—it was apprehended that it would turn into a malignant fever one & the Doctor sat up with him one night—the fever however abated & the Imposthume has been opened.  (833)

The President was “out of all danger,” Smith assured his correspondent, “but will be prevented for some time from sitting up.” A week after the boil had been suppurated, Washington was getting around with crutches (886), and by the end of July he was “so far recovered that he has rode out, & again attends his levee & receives company.” (1215-16)

Eighteenth-century medicine had hardly yet progressed beyond the Middle Ages. The type of fever that matches the descriptions of Washington’s illness was fully capable of carrying off men even more robust than he, so contemporaries were not unnecessarily alarmist in fearing a fatal outcome. But even more noteworthy than their regret for the sake of the man was their lament for the sake of the country. Carolina’s Smith was “in hopes that before his death, a number of questions will be settled, the discussion of which under his Successor would give rise to parties & factions.” (833)

In a confidential dispatch to Versailles, the French Ambassador considered the President’s early departure as worse than the country’s having no bureaucratic apparatus whatsoever: added to “the singular spectacle of a Government without courts, without treasury, without army and without Ministers,” Washington’s brush with death

was a momentary disturbance as the prospect of a more unusual event presented itself, should the confederation lose its chief before being able to consolidate. Because in fact the political edifice of the United States is as yet barely prepared to set its foundation. (882-83)

Only after Washington had started down the road of a promising recovery could Smith of Carolina’s father in law, Senator Ralph Izard, finally bring himself to admit the unthinkable: “it would have been a dreadful calamity at this critical time, if he had died.” (849) Representative James Madison agreed, in nearly the same words: “His death at the present moment would have brought on another crisis in our affairs.” (853) No one knew the ramifications of Washington’s death better than Madison who, during those first six months in the House of Representatives, was perhaps the closest that any congressman has come to serving as a sort of Prime Minister to an American head of state.

Because of his closeness to the crisis, no one was more candid—or clinical—in naming the threat than Madison. In a letter to Jefferson, who was still far away in Paris, Madison described the boil as a “large anthrax on the upper end of his thigh.” (894) The diagnosis was that of Washington’s personal physician at the time, but the disease unfortunately has all too contemporary a relevance to modern congressional history. If Dr. Bard’s diagnosis was correct, the ulcerous legion was probably caused by a toxic spore from an infected animal or animal product to which his patient may have been exposed through a cut or abrasion—such as Washington, an avid horseback rider, would have been prone to precisely at the site of his infection.

Presidential life didn’t seem to agree with Washington’s immune system: early the next year he was laid low again, and even more gravely, by an especially rabid case of influenza. He survived that too, of course. But by then his contemporaries had already reconciled themselves with the very real possibility that the Constitution might not outlive the first President to serve under it. Instead, we are into the third decade of the third century of the American Presidency—the first centennial of which was celebrated by Washington’s 22^nd successor in office, none other than William Henry Harrison’s grandson, Benjamin Harrison.

Note: all quotes are from Charlene Bickford et al., The Documentary History of the First Federal Congress, 1789-1791 (20 vols. to date; Baltimore, 1972-), volume 16.

George Washington’s Brush with Death (Part 1)

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First Congress, George Washington, John Tyler, Washington's illness 1789, William Henry Harrison, William Smith

Editor’s Note: Welcome to another new contributor, William diGiacomantonio, who recently joined the USCHS staff. Look for the second part of this piece tomorrow, on George Washington’s actual birthday.

–by William diGiacomantonio

On this Washington’s Birthday, let us remember a brief moment when he risked leaving the historical stage before imparting his invaluable imprint on the office of the Presidency.

Everyone knows the story of William Henry Harrison’s truncated Presidency of 1841: he gave his Inaugural Address in a very Washingtonian “wintry mix,” got sick, and died a month later. (Not incidentally, the Address was all of two hours long—the longest in American history. Being the only President who was also the son of a Signer of the Declaration of Independence, perhaps Harrison thought he ought to be held to a higher standard.) In fact, Harrison did not develop his fatal pneumonia until three weeks after his inauguration, but the myth has survived—perhaps as a warning to equally reckless presidential speechifying.

The most important Constitutional legacy of Harrison’s presidency was the identity of his successor. John Tyler was the first Vice President to test the Constitution’s vague provision for presidential succession, and by his actions under Article II, section 1, paragraph 6, decided once and for all that the Vice President would fill the office and not merely perform the duties of president (leaving the actual office technically vacant). Although dubbed “His Accidency” by detractors, Tyler succeeded in providing the first transition of power following the death or incapacity of a president.

By the time this important precedent was set, the federal government under the Constitution had fifty years of momentum behind it. Failure to outlive the constitutional crisis of 1841, while not an option, was not much of a threat either. Much more threatening, not merely to the Presidency but to the very existence of the United States itself, was the crisis that occurred in the early summer of 1789, when the Constitution’s duration was being measured not in decades, but in weeks.

The First Federal Congress as depicted by Allyn Cox in the Capitol’s Cox Corridors. (Architect of the Capitol)

The First Federal Congress had inaugurated George Washington as the first President of the United States barely six weeks earlier. The temporary capital of New York City was not as salubrious as some (especially rival Philadelphians) might have wished, but it was not a specifically urban illness that laid the President low in the second week of June. If anything, he was more likely exposed to the near-fatal bacterial spores back on his plantation at Mount Vernon.

The first inkling that all was not well was documented about 15 June—coincidentally, the fourteenth anniversary of Washington’s appointment as Commander in Chief of the Continental Army. He had survived eight years of war, only to be “indisposed” by a mysterious ailment that, as yet, resulted in nothing more inconvenient than the cancellation of the President’s weekly levee [reception]. Within a few days, there were reports of a recovery, but a recovery tenuous enough to leave Representative William Smith (MD) to speculate privately on the disastrous implications of the alternative: “were we to be deprived of his influence,” Smith wrote his son-in-law, “I much fear no other man could hold us together.” (816)  A full week after the public’s first knowledge of the President’s condition, Smith elaborated on their “Anxious Suspence”:

Although not generaly known, his disorder has been a fever which at present is apprehended, will terminate in a large Boil on his thigh, & will be lanced to day or tomorrow & expected to carry off his disorder, for which all ranks & degrees I believe most sincerely pray. (830)

Tune in tomorrow to learn more about the cause of this mysterious fever.

Note: all quotes are from Charlene Bickford et al., The Documentary History of the First Federal Congress, 1789-1791 (20 vols. to date; Baltimore, 1972-), volume 16.

“I Do Solemnly Swear . . .” George Washington Takes the First Oath of Office, 1789

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Adding so help me God, first inaugural ball, first presidential inauguration, George Washington, John Adams, Robert Livingston, Washington Inaugural 1789, Washington's first inaugural

–by Don Kennon

Prior to 1937, Inauguration Day was set on March 4th, as specified in the Constitution (the 20th Amendment changed the date to January 20th). The first inauguration, however, didn’t take place on March 4, 1789, but nearly two months later on April 30th. The First Federal Congress had convened on March 4, 1789, in New York City but the House of Representatives and the Senate each lacked a quorum necessary to do business, including counting the electoral votes cast for President and Vice President. On April 6th, enough Members had arrived to count the votes and declare Washington the winner. Congress dispatched Charles Thomson, the secretary of the old Continental Congress, to Mount Vernon to inform Washington of his victory. Thomson arrived at Mount Vernon on April 14 and two days later Washington started out for New York on a week-long triumphal procession which began one precedent no longer observed. Prior to 1889, inaugural parades went to the Capitol, accompanying the President-elect as he went to take the oath of office. The first post-oath parade was for Benjamin Harrison and included Buffalo Bill Cody and a group of cowboys.

When Washington arrived at New York on April 23d, the Senate was in the midst of a debate on what his title should be. Vice President Adams felt the presidency required a suitably dignified form of address. He favored “His Highness, the President of the United States and Protector of Their Liberties.” Others favored “His Serene Highness” or simply “His Excellency.” Just as Washington’s triumphal tour might have seemed excessive praise in a democracy, the debate over titles indicated some confusion over whether Washington was to be president or monarch. Several Members of Congress, however, ridiculed such haughty titles that reeked of royalty and aristocracy.  Some referred to Adams behind his back as “His Rotundity,” or, in a prophetic reference to the role of vice presidents, “His Irrelevancy.” In the end, Congress wisely chose to use the title “the President of the United States.”

Because Congress met in Federal Hall, Washington went there to take the oath of office on April 30th. He went to the Senate Chamber on the second floor (hence the Senate has ever since been referred to as the upper house), where he was escorted out to the balcony to take the oath. Because there were no Supreme Court justices, the oath was administered by Robert Livingston, Chancellor of the State of New York. The Bible used in the ceremony was borrowed from nearby St. John’s Masonic Lodge when none could be found in Federal Hall.

Mural by Allyn Cox in the U.S. Capitol depicts George Washington taking the oath of office in 1789 on the balcony of Federal Hall in New York City. Architect of the Capitol photograph

Up until recently, historians’ accounts of Washington’s first inaugural included the claim that at the conclusion of the oath Washington added the phrase, “so help me God.” No contemporary accounts of the inauguration made reference to the phrase, and the first time the claim appeared in print was some 60 years later. Most scholars now accept that there is no credible evidence that Washington said “so help me God.” That, however, doesn’t mean that the oath itself lacked a religious connotation. It was taken on a Bible and, moreover, the wording of the oath, “I do solemnly swear,” was a clear and forceful reference to the religious sanction given to the oath. The word “solemn,” derived from the Latin solemnis (consecrated, holy) carried a stronger religious connotation in the late 18^th century than it does today when to most it simply means “grave, serious, or somber.”

When Washington finished taking the oath, Livingston turned to the crowd and said, “Long live George Washington, President of the United States.”  The flag was raised, artillery fired, and church bells pealed. The President then went back into the building and delivered his inaugural address in the Senate Chamber before both Houses of Congress.

Washington’s inauguration set one further precedent: it was followed by a ball. The ball wasn’t held that evening because Mrs. Washington hadn’t yet arrived from Mount Vernon. It was finally held on May 5th, even though she was still detained in Virginia. The President led two cotillions and danced a minuet, “well suited,” as one observer noted, “to his impressive dignity and courtliness.”

For further reading:

Peter Henriques, “So Help Me God”: A George Washington Myth that Should Be Discarded

Edward G. Lengel, Inventing George Washington: America’s Founder, in Myth and Memory (Harper, 2011)

Library of Congress, “George Washington, First Inauguration, April 30, 1789”

Washington and L’Enfant

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Albert Small, construction of Washington, early Washington history, George Washington, George Washington letter, Peter L'Enfant, Pierre L'Enfant

No, DC locals, not the city and the metro stop, but the men who gave those places their names. Recently, a letter from George Washington hit the auction block and inspired a little glee in history fans everywhere. Turns out the father of our country, not surprisingly, sometimes belied his grave, dignified image and dished a little dirt.

Allyn Cox’s rendition of L’Enfant in a Capitol mural (Architect of the Capitol)

In this case, he’s talking about Peter L’Enfant, who had earlier been hired to map out the new federal city. Washington then had to dismiss L’Enfant for insubordination when he refused to share his plan with city commissioners, who needed it to begin selling plots of land (and thereby raising funds to build the city).

By late 1792, when he composed the letter in question to city commissioner David Stuart, Washington hadn’t encountered L’Enfant’s equal in skill and imagination but also didn’t believe L’Enfant would have improved much in temper or political skill. Washington wanted work to continue apace on the federal city and thought L’Enfant was both the man for job and a lousy choice.

Washington’s letter to Stuart (CHRISTIE’S IMAGES LTD.)

L’Enfant wasn’t asked back. Washington’s letter sold for at least $290,000 to DC native and developer Albert Small. Small’s collections will one day be donated to The George Washington University–including this letter.

The Washington Post discussed the letter in several platforms. For more on Washington, the city, and its layout, including L’Enfant’s work, try this National Park Service write-up.

Partisanship and Presidential Elections: An Early History (Part I)

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12th Amendment, Aaron Burr, Alexander Hamilton, Election of 1796, Election of 1800, Electoral College, Federalists, George Washington, Jeffersonian Republicans, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson

–by Joanna Hallac

Every four years, as another presidential election rolls around, the grumbling starts up that this has to be the most partisan and nastiest campaign ever; however, partisanship and attack ads have been a part of our presidential (and congressional) elections since as early as 1796, despite the warnings of our founding fathers about factions in the Federalist Papers, as well as George Washington’s later mention of the dangers of political parties in his farewell address. In honor of the silly season of presidential politics, which I’m sure we will all be happy to see come to an end on November 6th, here is a small sampling of some of the more partisan (even downright nasty) and consequential presidential elections in the early history of the United States. Oh, and since this would be intolerably long if we published it all at once, we have taken mercy on all of you and broken it up into two posts…enjoy!

Election of 1796

It was the first presidential election following the decision of George Washington to step down after his second term, and it quickly became a nasty and somewhat controversial affair. As this was the first election in which opposing political parties vied against one another for the presidency, it was inevitable that mud would be slung. The Federalists put forth two names—Vice President John Adams and former diplomat Thomas Pinckney—as did the Democratic-Republicans—Sec. of State Thomas Jefferson and former senator Aaron Burr. While Burr was essentially the only candidate to actively campaign, the surrogates of the others took to the newspapers to hurl epithets at each of the candidates. Jefferson was labeled a Francophile and accused of being an atheist, while Adams was labeled an elitist and Anglophile.

In the end, Adams did prevail in the Electoral College by a slim, 3-vote margin. At this point there was no law to ensure that electors cast separate votes for president and vice president, so the Electoral College runner-up became the VP; in this case, Thomas Jefferson of the rival political party took that honor. It is interesting to note that a somewhat similar situation could actually unfold again this year if the Electoral College vote were to end in a tie, at which point the Republican-controlled House would vote for president and the Democratic-controlled Senate would vote for vice president. Could we be in for a Romney-Biden term? Doubtful, but it’s clearly happened before.

While the attacks in the media were relatively tame in the election of 1796, the emergence of political parties and growing sectionalism in the country would make the next election far nastier. Additionally, the slim electoral victory for Adams in a system with flaws yet to be realized would also foreshadow the controversy that would surround the election of 1800.

Election of 1800

Historians and political scientists can disagree about many things, and do, but one thing many of them do agree upon is that the presidential election of 1800 was one of the nastiest, but also perhaps one of the most consequential, in American history. While it is correct to think highly of our Founding Fathers and the work they did in drafting the Constitution and seeing this country through the Revolution and its nascent years, people often forget that politics has always been and will always be a full contact sport; 1800 was no different. Just like today, the men running for president took to the media of the day to do their best to disparage one another and cast each in the most negative light possible.

Bad feelings had already been present in 1796, and by the time the next presidential election rolled around those feelings had been amplified, not only because President Adams had made a lot of people unhappy with his foreign policy in particular, but also because Vice President Jefferson had gone out of his way to do nothing to help his president and former friend during his first term, sowing seeds of great bitterness between the men and their political parties. Yet, while Jefferson only had to contend with attacks from his Federalist rival, Adams faced mudslinging from the Republicans and from his own party as well, as Alexander Hamilton, a Federalist rival, worked against Adams and would actually be instrumental in Jefferson’s victory.

Newspaper articles painted misleading portraits of each candidate, depending on their allegiances (there was skewed news media back then too!), with some of them being particularly unsavory. One anti-Jefferson newspaper article issued a warning that if Jefferson were to win the presidency, “Murder, robbery, rape, adultery, and incest will be openly taught and practiced, the air will be rent with the cries of the distressed, the soil will be soaked with blood, and the nation black with crimes.” Jefferson’s running mate, Aaron Burr of New York, circulated a letter from Jefferson in which he described Adams as having “great and intrinsic defects in his character.” Additionally, Jefferson surrogates spread a false rumor that Adams had wanted to create a dynasty in America by marrying one of his sons to King George III’s daughter and that it took George Washington to threaten him for Adams to back away from this plan, further cementing the Republican views of Adams as a monarchist. Of course, with no fact-checkers to set the electors or voters straight back in 1800, each party simply tried to outflank the other with lies and exaggerations.

When the election was finally held and the electoral votes counted, Adams finished third, ahead of Charles Pinckney (also a Federalist candidate), and behind both Jefferson and Aaron Burr, who ended up tied with 73 apiece. As mentioned previously, the Constitution did not have a provision in it to make sure electors differentiated their votes for president and vice president, and all Republican electors likely just cast their two votes for each of their party’s candidates, not realizing that a tie would therefore ensue. The vote then went to the House of Representatives, as mutually agreed upon since there was no constitutional provision to deal with an Electoral College tie. Once in the House, the ballots continued to result in more tied votes, due mainly to the fact that Alexander Hamilton, a fierce rival of Aaron Burr, a fellow New Yorker, convinced many Federalists in the House to cast their votes for Jefferson, a favor Burr would repay to Hamilton years later when he killed him in a duel. Finally, after Jefferson promised Federalist James Bayard that he would keep Federalists in government positions and keep Hamilton’s national bank, Bayard agreed to cast a blank ballot, thus breaking the tie after 35 rounds of voting and giving Thomas Jefferson the presidency.

The election of 1800 was not only a nasty, partisan fight, signaling a start to our now entrenched two-party system, but it also proved incredibly consequential in terms of the impact it would have. First of all, this election was a major test of the new American republic, as the Federalists controlled every branch of the federal government at the time of Jefferson’s election. While they could have refused to leave power and overturned the ideals they fought so hard for in the Revolutionary War and in the ratification of the Constitution, John Adams peacefully and willingly accepted the results of the election and left office without incident, thus legitimizing Jefferson’s presidency. This would set the precedent for all successive presidents from all political parties in regard to a peaceful transfer of power, and also demonstrated to the world that America was a country in which democracy would survive–and so it has.

Secondly, the election of 1800, and the tie that ensued, necessitated a change to the Constitution, which came in 1804 with the ratification of the 12^th Amendment. The amendment mandated the use of separate ballots for president and vice president for the electors to use when casting their votes, as well as setting forth that in future cases of an Electoral College tie or lack of majority, the House would settle the presidential vote, while the Senate would settle the vice presidential vote.

Stay tuned for Part II of this post on partisanship in presidential elections…the elections of 1824 and 1828 promise not to disappoint!

Sources consulted:

The Miller Center at the University of Virginia

The Lehrman Institute

Maisel, Sandy L. and Mark D. Brewer. Parties and Elections in America: The Electoral Process. (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2012).

The Battle of Brooklyn

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American Revolution, Battle of Brooklyn, Battle of Bunker Hill, General Howe, George Washington, Lexington and Concord

–by Joanna Hallac

On August 27, 1776, one of the first really major and significant battles of the American Revolution occurred…in Brooklyn, NY. Also known as the Battle of Brooklyn Heights and the Battle of Long Island, the Battle of Brooklyn is often ignored by the history books, not to mention that most current “Brooklynites” likely don’t realize their home borough was host to battle during the war. Given that it’s the 236^th anniversary of the battle, we thought we’d take a look into this oft overlooked battle of the American Revolutionary War.

Following the outbreak of the war in April 1775 at Lexington and Concord and then a contested battle two months later at Breeds Hill (we mistakenly refer to it as Bunker Hill), the Americans were able to eventually force the British to abandon Boston and head north to Nova Scotia. The British army would replace General Gage with the Howe brothers—William Howe was made commander in chief of the British forces and his brother Richard was appointed admiral of the British naval forces in North American waters. The Howe’s decided to make New York City the base of their military operations and began the process of moving troops and supplies there by sea; however, General Washington decided to counter this move in the spring of 1776 and moved his forces to New York as well.

The British arrived with 25,000 men on Staten Island, while Washington rather unwisely split his force of approximately 20,000 between lower Manhattan and Brooklyn, with his main force in Brooklyn Heights. The British had been gathering their forces and supplies all summer and finally, when the time was right on August 27^th, they made their way from Staten Island and landed at Gravesend Bay, Brooklyn. When they came ashore they pushed through to today’s Flatbush section of Brooklyn and stopped. Howe’s subordinate, George Clinton, knew Brooklyn well from his youth and came up with a plan to outflank the Americans on the left, which somehow they neglected to protect against, perhaps hoping for the same success they achieved at the Battle of Bunker Hill the year before.

Needless to say, the British easily defeated the Americans in the Battle of Brooklyn; however, Washington was able to very narrowly escape and retreat with his troops out of New York Harbor, which would become very significant as the war wore on. The fact that Howe refused to finish off the Americans and do what was necessary to deliver a crushing blow that could have ended the Revolutionary War right then was something that would come back to haunt him and the entire British military as the war dragged on for five more years with an ultimate American victory.  There is wide speculation about why General Howe didn’t deliver a final, crushing blow to the Americans in Brooklyn and throughout New York City when he had the chance, with some suggesting he had a mindset of many British early on in the war that they didn’t want to sour relations with the Americans too badly so they could resume normal relations with them after it was resolved. Regardless of the reasons, Washington and his troops were able to retreat and the American forces lived onto fight for many years after this, ultimately achieving both victory and independence.

Sources consulted:

New York Public Library

Happy Birthday, Mr. Washington

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Capitol Crypt, George Washington, Presidents Day, U.S. Capitol, Washington Monument

–by Joanna Hallac

With the celebration of Presidents Day on Monday, it is very easy for us to forget that today, February 22nd, is actually George Washington’s birthday. In honor of Washington’s birthday today, we decided to do a little digging into the issues that arose over where to bury our first president and where and what kind of monument to build to him, both of which were discussed as early as 1783, well before Washington even became the first President of the United States. From the initial idea for a monument in 1783 to the later idea for his body to be interred in a crypt at the U.S. Capitol to the finally agreed upon design for the Washington Monument in 1836, the issue of how to best commemorate the contributions of George Washington was a long and ever-evolving process that spanned the greater part of the 19th century. We hope you enjoy our foray into the complexities of memorializing our first and, perhaps, greatest president.

The Capitol Crypt (Architect of the Capitol)

The original idea for a monument—an equestrian statue—to Washington was approved by the Continental Congress in 1783, and it seems he himself was involved in these early discussions about how and where to commemorate his life and contributions (though more because he wanted to help in continuing to unify the new nation and government after he passed on, rather than for any narcissistic reasons). It would appear that he helped Peter L’Enfant choose the desired location in DC for that originally planned statue. Additionally, it appeared Washington had been discussing the issue of interring his body in the U.S. Capitol with architect William Thornton. In 1793, Washington approved Thornton’s plan for the building, which “included a ground-floor tomb for his own remains. The crypt would occupy the exact center of the capital, where the city’s four quadrants met, and in the rotunda above it Thornton indicated a new location for the equestrian statue.” While housing beloved figures in national tombs was far from a new idea, “The double monument of equestrian statue and tomb would have cemented the importance of the Capitol building as the unrivaled symbolic center of the nation.” Washington, however, despite privately discussing and in some cases approving such plans, knew he could not publicly support the idea of a tomb in the Capitol, as he felt it would be antithetical to the Federalist and republican spirit in which he had helped to found the country. Accordingly, he ensured that his will indicated that he was to be buried at his beloved home of Mount Vernon, a move many close to him believed was his true desire as it were. Washington’s unexpected death in 1799 would only further complicate matters.

With Washington’s passing, as per his will, he was laid to rest at his family home at Mount Vernon; however, with the Congress moving into their new home in the capital city in early 1800, the debate over Washington’s final resting place became contentious within the walls of the new Capitol. As if the issue was not enough of a mess already, after Congress had agreed to ask Martha Washington for her permission to move her husband’s body back to the Capitol for final burial in the still-unfinished Crypt, the Federalists in Congress then decided it would be an even better idea to have a larger, ancient Egyptian-style mausoleum separate from the Capitol to forever entomb and enshrine Washington’s remains, having already commissioned a design for it from architect Benjamin Latrobe. Latrobe’s design and a subsequent enhancement of it by George Dance, a prominent British architect, would have this mausoleum standing at 150 feet tall, which would have been larger than the Capitol building at that time, something that set off Democratic-Republicans in Congress who believed it was apotheosizing him in a way that would have made Washington himself uncomfortable. When a vote on the mausoleum project finally came before the Congress, the vote went along party lines—Federalists for and Democratic-Republicans against—but since the Senate refused to go along with the House’s version of the bill, the matter finally died.

Benjamin Latrobe's sketch of Washington's mausoleum, 1800 (Library of Congress)

While the efforts to enshrine George Washington’s remains in a mausoleum that harkened back to the days of ancient Egyptian or Roman deities fizzled out, two questions remained: should Washington’s remains be moved to the Capitol Crypt (which does exist and is located directly below the Rotunda) or any other site, and what kind of memorial or monument should be built to honor the man who served as our first and most revered President? The first question would be answered pretty easily in February 1832, “on the eve of his centennial birthday, the Twenty-second Congress made a last-ditch effort to redeem the promise made to the hero’s wife thirty-two years earlier. The internment, however, never took place.” Washington’s great nephew, John Augustine Washington, was now the proprietor of Mount Vernon and refused to allow the body to be moved from the family home, and Congress deferred to him on the matter. The second question proved less easy to answer, simply because it took decades for a monument to Washington to finally come into being.

Washington Monument under construction (Library of Congress)

After a few decades without much talk of it, a movement began in the 1830s among a group of wealthy, private citizens to raise funds to build a national monument to George Washington to be designed by architect Robert Mills. Although, based on his initial design, the monument was to originally include some grander aspects, it was later decided that just a plain, Egyptian-style obelisk would suffice as a monument to the great man, though many would feel it was too impersonal for the Father of our Country. By 1848, the group had raised $87,000, which persuaded Congress to donate public land for the endeavor; while it was originally meant to be built at another point along the west end of the Mall, the managers of the project felt the foundation of the higher ground it stands on today would be more suitable for this undertaking. On July 4, 1848, the ceremonial first cornerstone was placed before a large crowd with much fanfare. A chronic lack of funds as well as the Civil War slowed the construction severely over the next several decades and the monument would not be finished and dedicated until February 21, 1885 and would not be opened to the public until October 9, 1888.

Washington Monument, 2007 (Library of Congress)

In the end, the Washington Monument would weigh in at 81,120 tons and at a height of 555 feet and 5 1/8 inches, and while it was hardly the show of restraint that many had wanted (and some would likely argue that Washington himself would also have wanted more restraint in designing any such monument or memorial to him), it was a far cry from some of the earlier iconoclasms that were suggested. Even though Washington’s birthday is no longer a separate holiday, we should all be sure to remember that on this day in 1732 our first and, to most, our greatest American President was born, not knowing at that point that he would soon help to forever change the course of world history. So, please join me in wishing a very happy 280th birthday to President George Washington…let us never forget your actual birthday again.

Sources cited:
Kirk Savage, Monument Wars: Washington, DC, the National Mall, and the Transformation of the Memorial Landscape, (University of California Press, 2005).

Rubil Morales-Vazquez, “Redeeming a Sacred Pledge: The Plans to Bury George Washington in the Nation’s Capital,” in Establishing Congress: The Removal to Washington, D.C. and the Election of 1800, Kenneth R. Bowling and Donald R. Kennon, eds. (Ohio University Press, 2005), pp. 148-189.

“The State of our Union is…”

Tags

George Washington, President Obama, SOTU, State of the Union, U.S. Capitol, U.S. Constitution

–by Joanna Hallac

It is mid-January at the Capitol, and that means that the members of Congress are back from their holiday vacations and are preparing for the President’s annual “State of the Union” address, delivered to a joint session nearly every January (as you’ll read, there are some years where there is no official SOTU speech, and it has not always been delivered in January). The State of the Union speech gives each President a chance to lay out to a joint session of Congress and the American people their legislative and policy priorities for the coming year, but since the first address was delivered it has undergone serious changes as President Obama gets ready to deliver his third such speech since taking office. What is the history behind this annual ritual? I’m so glad you asked!

George Washington's First Annual Address, 1790 (Library of Congress)

As many of you may know, Article II, section 3, clause 1 of our Constitution mandates that the President “shall from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.” So, how did we get from there to where we are today with the State of the Union address? Well, not surprisingly, George Washington was the first to deliver what was originally called the “Annual Message,” a name it kept from 1790 to 1934, setting the precedent for a yearly presidential address to Congress. It became unofficially known as the State of the Union from 1942 to 1946, with the title becoming official since 1947. Additionally, the address was delivered in person by Presidents Washington and Adams; however, Thomas Jefferson altered the original practice and instead sent a written message to Congress rather than appearing in person to deliver the speech. Not until Woodrow Wilson in 1913 did any President return to the original precedent set by Washington and Adams, although there were still some presidents that would send in a written address after this point, but not since George H.W. Bush has any President not delivered the State of Union in person and on live television (except for outgoing presidents, as will be discussed).

So what else about the State of the Union has changed since 1790? The answer: quite a lot. As mentioned, the address was given mostly in writing until 1913; however, even when Woodrow Wilson returned to giving the speech in person, it was worked into to the regular congressional workday, usually delivered in the morning. As media technology changed and improved, so too did the State of the Union. The first address to be broadcast over the radio was in 1923 when Calvin Coolidge was in office; the first televised address came two decades later when Harry Truman delivered his 1947 address. It was not until 1965 that LBJ moved the State of the Union to the evening in order to guarantee larger viewership. It was also at this time that it became commonplace to judge the speeches not just on content, but also by how many times there was applause and standing ovations, transforming the address from an informative and important policy speech into something more like a presidential “pep rally.” Nonetheless, it is clearly still something that many Americans care about and tune into, with 43 million viewers watching President Obama’s address in 2011, down from 48 million in 2010.

President Obama's State of the Union address, 2011 (U.S. House of Representatives)

Since it became a televised, evening address, only once has the State of the Union speech been canceled. In 1986, President Reagan canceled the address after the Challenger disaster occurred earlier in the day the speech was to take place; it was eventually rescheduled. Reagan set the modern precedent for outgoing presidents of sending in a written version to Congress (so as not to upstage the newly elected, incoming President) and forgoing an in-person speech, as the inaugural address of the new President usually serves the dual purpose of both inaugural and State of the Union addresses, as it did for President Obama in 2009 (this is not always the case, however, such as with George H.W. Bush in 1989).

So, what awaits us this evening when President Obama delivers his third official State of the Union address? Well, last year he was the first President to ever use the words bubble, supermajority, and obesity in a State of the Union, according to historical data compiled by the New York Times. Perhaps he will be the first to coin other words and phrases this year? In terms of other words that have been used in SOTU speeches since 1934 (that’s when the Times began compiling the data), the circumstances we are living in at that time tend to dictate which words occur and with what level of frequency. During times of economic downturns, such as 1975, 1981, 1991, and 2002, the word jobs saw a spike in its mentions. Other words that have been popular with the last three presidents are: invest, deficit, small business, Social Security, health care, compete, and innovate, with the last being used far more by Democrats than Republicans. The word tax has received popularity since 1934, although surely has been used in different contexts based on which party the President was from. The word power was far more popular from the 1930s to 1950s than it is today, while the word freedom shows spikes throughout the 1930s to 1960s, then again in the 1980s under Reagan and lastly, under President George W. Bush; President Obama has hardly mentioned the word freedom in any speeches to Congress since taking office. One last interesting note, the word bipartisan has barely been used since 1934 and the two presidents to mention it often were Reagan, 23 times, and Clinton, 41 times. I will let you all read into that what you like.

The one constant in this annual Presidential address that we can all remember hearing year in and year out is that famous first line—“the state of our Union is strong.” While that has been a debatable point throughout our history, just as it is today, President Obama is likely to stick with this traditionally optimistic opening sentiment, as most Americans probably want to hear our President say that even if we don’t necessarily believe it’s true. Regardless of what is or is not said in tonight’s speech, what is certain is that this address is an American tradition steeped in history, but also one that has seen tremendous changes over time, especially in terms of the impact that technology has had upon its delivery and content.

Be sure to tune in tonight to watch President Obama deliver his 3rd State of the Union address to the Congress, not only to hear what is on the President’s policy agenda for the coming year, but also to listen for how many times he says jobs and how many rounds of applause and standing ovations he gets! As always, keep the comments and questions coming, as we so enjoy hearing from our loyal readers.

Sources consulted:

The New York Times
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2011/01/25/us/politics/state-of-the-union-words-used.html?scp=2&sq=state%20of%20the%20union%20history&st=cse
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/28/us/politics/28web-baker.html?scp=1&sq=state%20of%20the%20union%20history&st=cse

The House of Representatives, Art and History
http://artandhistory.house.gov/house_history/stateunion.aspx