Blood of Tyrants: George Washington & the Forging of the Presidency

by Logan Beirne

  Washington’s formal report back to his commander described the battle with detached military precision: “I there upon in conjunction with the Half King . . . formed a disposition to attack them on all sides, which we accordingly did and after an Engagement of abt 15 minutes we killed 10, wounded one and took 21 prisoners, amongst those that were killed was Monsieur De Jumonville, the Commander.”25 His diary account provided a fuller picture, albeit one that still glossed over the more gruesome details: “we killed Mr. de Jumonville—also nine others . . . . The Indians scalped the dead.”26 Washington’s brevity, however, was largely self-serving. Though accounts of that day differ, it appears that Washington was actually covering up a massacre.27

  After the firing abated, the French regiment’s wounded commanding officer, Joseph Coulon de Villiers de Jumonville, attempted to negotiate a surrender.28 He handed Washington papers showing that the party was merely on a diplomatic mission. But as Washington attempted to translate them from French, Tanacharison seized the opportunity to exact his revenge.29 Shouting “Tu n’es pas encore mort, mon père,” which translates as “You are not yet dead, my father,” he split Jumonville’s skull with his hatchet and plunged his hands into the Frenchman’s brain.30 “The tall Virginian who until that instant had thought himself in command did nothing while the Half King’s warriors, as if on signal, set about killing the wounded,” an egregious violation of European military protocol.31 Washington, powerless, stared in horror as the helpless Frenchmen were cut down in a bloody rage. In a matter of seconds, nearly all of the injured Frenchmen were slaughtered before his eyes.32

  Fearing French reprisal as well as damage to his own reputation, Washington astutely communicated only the most self-aggrandizing details back to Virginia. In demonstration of his bravery, he wrote, “I heard the bullets whistle, and, believe me, there is something charming in the sound.”33 But despite his best efforts, the cover-up was unsuccessful and word of the massacre quickly reached the colonial, British, and French governments. The French were incensed by the atrocity and readied their counterattack against Washington and his countrymen. In London, the debacle was derided as “a volley fired by a young Virginian in the backwoods of America [that] set the world on fire.”34 Washington’s scandalous “Jumonville Affair” had sparked the global Seven Years’ War.

  This telling episode serves as a symbolic prelude to Washington’s epic role in achieving the United States’ independence. The life-and-death struggles were violent. They were desperate. They were messy. And above all, Washington did what he thought necessary to defend his country. In doing so, the “Founder of Our Nation” sent shockwaves throughout the world and set enduring precedents that continue to define us to this day. With so many repercussions across space and time, this real life story holds more twists than any fiction writer could invent.

  History books often portray Washington as a semi-omniscient demigod who was so unlike us that he never struggled to find his way. America has lost sight of the man and replaced his memory with a distant sphinx. This is not a new phenomenon. When British novelist William Makepeace Thackeray made Washington into a character in The Virginians in 1857, it elicited public outcry. America was horrified at the attempt to portray Washington “like other men.”35 One critic of the book exclaimed, “Washington was not like other men; and to bring his lofty character down to the level of the vulgar passions of common life, is to give the lie to the grandest chapter in the uninspired annals of the human race.”36

  Nathaniel Hawthorne joked, “Did anyone ever see Washington nude? It is inconceivable. He had no nakedness, but I imagine he was born with his clothes on, and his hair powdered . . . .”37 While it lacks (too much) nudity, this book unveils Washington and the other extraordinary yet very real human beings behind that great chapter of history. It honors the Revolution’s leaders not by burying their humanity or enshrining them as one-dimensional figures; instead, it depicts them as actual people who faced and triumphed over seemingly insurmountable obstacles—ones remarkably similar to those that still plague us.

  When Washington led the Continental Army through the Revolutionary War, he had learned from his youthful blunders of two decades earlier during that morning ambush. He drew upon his harsh experience along with his own wisdom to formulate principled approaches to dilemmas that are eerily similar to those we face today. By confronting—and eventually conquering—these challenges, he defined the American way. His epic role in leading the states to independence would forever shape the new nation.

  As the United States’ first and only commander in chief prior to the drafting of our Constitution, Washington personified our Founders’ intent when they ratified the Constitution’s precious few words proclaiming “The President shall be Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States . . . .”38 The unquestioned choice to be the first president, he served as the model for the office at its creation. The founding generation looked to Washington’s Revolutionary War leadership as their guide for designating the presidential powers in their new government. This book analyzes General Washington’s specific actions and beliefs as he forged the very meaning of our Constitution amid the heat of battle for independence.

  We all know how the war ended. What is surprisingly unknown are the specifics of how we achieved that grand victory. This book reveals the Revolutionary War precedents for America’s modern crises.39 It delves into some of the overlooked—and often lurid—details that are especially applicable to today’s most contentious debates. To best discuss the varied episodes in America’s chaotic triumph, this book organizes the chapters by topic. Rather than just providing an ordinary “play-by-play” of the war, it groups the discussions according to the topics most relevant to today: prisoner abuse, congressional interference in war policy, military tribunals, and Americans’ rights.

  By drawing from reams of primary source documents, this book brings to light facts that have been largely overlooked (and sometimes intentionally buried) by history. The subsequent pages hold such forgotten materials as the Founders’ warnings against government debt, General Washington’s letters justifying prisoner abuse to save American lives, a vivid eyewitness account of the military commission that swiftly executed a captured enemy operative, and evidence of a power struggle between Washington and Congress over war tactics. These surprising stories help fill the void in our understanding of our ingenious Founders’ pragmatic approach to governing an America at war.

  The book begins after the United States’ victory. It traces the formation of our democratic republic, with Washington serving as the prototype for the presidency. The chapters in Part I answer the “why should we care?” question at the outset of the book: we should care about our history because the supreme law of the United States was shaped by these very events. By establishing that Washington’s Revolutionary War powers were the same ones that the Framers intended for the presidency, this part encourages the reader to actively deduce the direct modern constitutional relevance of Washington’s surprising precedents discussed in Parts II–V.

  The subsequent parts address Washington’s approach to hot-button issues of post-9/11 America: prisoner abuse (Part II), congressional war power (Part III), military tribunals (Part IV), and Americans’ rights (Part V). The final part brings us full circle back to the end of the war. It discusses the founding generation’s idolization of Washington and their hearty approval of his leadership chronicled in Parts II–V. This serves as a capstone, leading up to Washington’s role in forming the postwar government and the practical implications of his wartime actions for our Constitution. Finally, the Epilogue discusses the modern legal significance of this forgotten history, showing the practical means by which the precedents explored in this book have a direct impact on modern law.

  These pages emphasize the many colorful characters of the Revolution in order to tell the vivid stories of the war based on the people who lived them. Instead of taking a high-level approach, the book shows the persona
l impact of the Revolution on the human beings directly affected. To do so, it relies heavily on primary sources from both the American and British sides in order to provide rich eyewitness accounts.40 Delving into some of these previously lost documents, this book injects incendiary new facts into the present discussion and is intended to serve as fodder for debate.

  No longer is Washington “entombed in his own myth—a metaphorical Washington Monument that hides from us the lineaments of the real man.”41 The following pages depict a great human being who struggled with dilemmas similar to those we face today. With tremendous strength of character, he successfully led his countrymen through deep crises and helped found the most prosperous nation on earth. Over two centuries later, we still have more to learn from him.

  I

  THE KING OF AMERICA

  “I am free to acknowledge that His Powers are full great, and

  greater than I was disposed to make them. Nor, Entre Nous,

  do I believe they would have been so great had not many of

  the members cast their eyes towards General Washington as

  President; and shaped their Ideas of the Powers to be given to

  a President, by their opinions of his Virtue.”1

  —PIERCE BUTLER, REPRESENTATIVE

  OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION, 1788

  Even as the embers of war still smoldered, he found peace. Standing alongside the blue-gray waters of the Potomac River, the gentleman farmer gazed across his sprawling estate. The lush foliage of billowing weeping willows and blossoming laurel dotted the softly rolling fields, which glimmered in the fiery light of the rising sun. A silent spring breeze grazed his weathered face, sending the aromas of earth and grass into the air. Over the farmer’s impressive frame, still powerfully built after fifty-five years of backbreaking use, soared his mansion’s majestic white columns. They rose two stories to meet a striking red roof, topped by two large chimneys, pointed dormers, and an ornately domed cupola. Beneath this grandiose architectural crown, a white, neoclassical Georgian-style mansion provided a comfortable home for the gentleman and his beloved wife, along with her two rambunctious young grandchildren who had been orphaned during the war.

  He had fought courageously for his country and had earned this peaceful life with his loved ones. And he enjoyed it immensely. But as the sun’s first rays appeared to ignite the horizon, his serenity was shattered by the clacking hooves of an approaching horse. The messenger brought dire—but not unexpected—news: the gentleman farmer’s nation was crumbling and it needed him. Emerging from his retirement, he would save the country. Again.

  The chapters in Part I explore the creation of the United States Constitution. They examine Washington’s crucial role in its formation and how his wartime precedents shaped the powers of all future American presidents.

  1

  The Not-So-United States

  Victorious, they set the world on fire. The scrappy Americans stunned Great Britain—the mightiest empire on earth—and sparked a powder keg of political unrest across the Old World and the New. These patriots’ revolutionary republican ideology and military triumph helped ignite uprisings in France, Ireland, the Netherlands, Poland, Haiti, and Latin America.1 At home, the Americans needed to harness that revolutionary fire to forge a nation, lest it rage out of control and consume their grand experiment. For while their victory in the Revolutionary War was glorious, the aftermath was less so. Facing bankruptcy and internal strife, the United States turned once again to its father and protector: the warrior-turned-farmer, George Washington.

  As commander in chief of the Continental Army during the Revolution, Washington triumphantly led a confederation of thirteen allied state governments. But following their victory, the American states were only loosely united under the governing document known as the “Articles of Confederation and Perpetual Union.” Ironically, these Articles created a decentralized union that proved to be far from perpetual.

  The United States were less a cohesive nation than thirteen independent, sovereign states loosely tethered by a weak central government—the Confederation Congress.2 Americans of the era often referred to their nation in the plural form. They did not yet conceive of themselves as one indissoluble nation composed of thirteen parts, but rather as a voluntary confederation of independent allied states where many citizens felt greater allegiance to their own region than to any new national government.3

  Washington had seen this firsthand back during the war. His Continental Army—sick, hungry, shivering—huddled within their makeshift winter encampment at Valley Forge, where bone-chilling winds proved far more deadly than the British could ever hope to be. With ice and bodies piling up around him, Washington feared mutiny among his troops and sought reassurance. He did not obtain it. In one of the Revolution’s darkest hours, he ordered a few soldiers to swear allegiance to the United States. They shockingly refused, instead declaring, “New Jersey is our country!”4

  Such political disunity stemmed from deeply rooted fear. Americans were wary of replicating the British system where their liberties were suppressed by a distant government that was deaf to their wishes. To avoid the reemergence of such a regime after their fight for independence erupted, the states clung fiercely to local rule. The individual states retained most of the power over their own citizenry rather than relinquish it to the new national Congress. Even though it had authority over diplomacy and military decisions, Congress was at the mercy of the states since they supplied most of the soldiers and resources to the Continental Army.5

  Under this arrangement, rather than a single American army, Washington had led what was akin to a coalition force, supplied with food, munitions, and soldiers by separate little nation-states.6 And despite having a common foe, the states bickered among themselves about the costs. As a result, they dangerously undersupplied Washington’s army, and the weak Congress could do little but entreat them to provide more troops. Like unruly children supervised by a feeble grandmother, the states quarreled while the Congress implored them to behave.

  Washington saw this as a deeply flawed system. He described the national Congress as a “half-starved government [that] limped along on crutches, tottering at every step.”7 The fragile nation did have its glue, however. The thirteen states’ coalition was held together during the war in large part by the states’ belief in the leadership of one man: Washington. As commander in chief, he had become “the most effective bond, as well as conspicuous symbol, of union.”8

  But the war ended and the Americans’ conspicuous symbol retired. Mere weeks after the last British troops evacuated New York City following the peace treaty, Washington resigned his commission as commander in chief in order to “retire from the Great Theater of Action” and “take leave of all the employments of public life.”9 He returned to Mount Vernon, his sprawling plantation on the Potomac, where he enjoyed the life of a gentleman farmer.

  When not spending time with his family, entertaining dinner guests, or partaking in his favorite leisure activity of foxhunting, Washington oversaw a diversified business that included farming tobacco and wheat, breeding mules, milling flour, and weaving cloth. He commanded hundreds of slaves, who worked from sunrise to sunset on the many tasks of his bustling estate. While he increasingly recognized the contradiction between his fight for liberty and his ownership of slaves, writing, “there is not a man living who wishes more sincerely than I do, to see a plan adopted for the abolition” of slavery, he declined to free them.10 Eventually he would arrange for their emancipation in his will, but during his lifetime he remained far too dependent on them to tend his home, fields, and other enterprises.11 And after years of neglect during the war, he found his estate especially in need of their hard work.

  Washington’s was a busy but tranquil occupation: instead of leading armies across the Delaware River to defend American liberty, he led investors in building canals so that he could better transport produce.12 Retiring to bed by nine o’clock almost every even
ing, he rested well, knowing that he had liberated his country after so many years of war.

  While he was far removed from the public spotlight, he was certainly not forgotten. In fact, his self-imposed exile from politics stunned the world. After the war, his popularity was at such a height and his hold on the military so ironclad that some expected him to pronounce himself king of the United States. Washington’s voluntary surrender of power only further elevated his demigod status among the people. The annals of civilization were littered with triumphant generals who had helped their people throw off one tyrant only to take his place. But Washington broke from that cycle. He freed his people and then returned to his farm to leave the path open for republican self-government.

  For both his inspirational leadership during the Revolution and his selfless retirement afterward, Washington was almost universally revered throughout America and beyond. A mere rumor of Washington passing through a town was enough to elicit a spontaneous parade. Even his critics were pressured into silence, since any attack against the great man was considered unpatriotic.13

  One of the few men of the era to dislike Washington was his portraitist. Gilbert Stuart was a personable Rhode Islander whose lifelike portraits catapulted him to artistic stardom. He was a powerfully built, happy-go-lucky gentleman with an “attachment to the pleasures of the table and convivial society,” which a friend attributed to his time living in Ireland.14 Possessing “wit at will,” the painter relied on his knack for conversation to keep his subjects animated and to draw forth “the inmost soul upon the surface of the countenance.”15 But when he landed the appointment as Washington’s portraitist, his charm failed him.