Page:Encyclopædia Britannica, Ninth Edition, v. 24.djvu/415

Rh PRESIDENT.] WASHINGTON 389 garrison of Boston. The battle of Bunker Hill had already taken place, and Washington s work until the following spring was to bring about some semblance of military discipline, to obtain ammunition and military stores, to correspond with Congress and the colonial governors, to guide military operations in the widely separated parts of a great continent, to create a military system and organization for a people who were entirely unaccustomed to such a thing and impatient under it, and to bend the course of events steadily towards driving the British out of Boston. It is not easy to see how Washing ton survived the year 1775 ; the colonial poverty, the exasperating annoyances, the selfishness or stupidity which cropped out again and again from the most patriotic of his coadjutors, were enough to have broken down most men. They completed his training. The change in this one winter is very evident. If he was not a great man when he went to Cambridge, he was a general and a statesman in the best sense when he drove the British out of Boston in March 1776. From that time until his death he was the foremost man of the continent. The military operations of the remainder of the war are given elsewhere (see UNITED STATES, vol. xxiii. pp. 743-745). Washington s retreat through the Jerseys ; the manner in which he turned and struck his pursuers at Trenton and Princeton, and then established himself at Morristown so as to make the way to Philadelphia impassable; the vigour with which he handled his army at Chad s Ford and Germantown; the persistence with which he held the strategic position of Valley Forge through the dreadful winter of 1777-78, in spite of the misery of his men, the clamours of the people, and the impotence of the fugitive Congress, all went to show that the fibre of his public character had been hardened to its permanent quality. The Valley Forge winter was said to be &quot; the time that tried men s souls : &quot; Washington s had no need to fear the test. It was a serious addition to his burdens that the spirit which culminated in Benedict Arnold chose this moment to make its appearance. Many of the American officers had been affronted by the close personal friendship which had sprung up between La Fayette and Washington, and by the diplomatic deference which the commander- in-chief felt compelled to show to other foreign officers. Some of the latter showed no gratitude. The name of one of them, Conway, an Irish soldier of fortune from the French service, is attached to what was called &quot; Con way s Cabal.&quot; He formed a scheme for replacing Washington in the command by Gates, who had just succeeded in forcing Burgoyne to surrender at Saratoga ; and a number of officers and men in civil life were mixed up in it. The methods employed were the lowest forms of anonymous slander, and at the first breath of exposure every one con cerned hurried to cover up his part in it, leaving Conway to shoulder all the responsibility. The treaty of 1778 with France put an end to every such plan. It was a flat absurdity to expect foreign nations to deal with a second rate man as commander-in-chief while Washington was in existence, and he seems to have had no more trouble of this kind. The prompt and vigorous pursuit of Clinton across the Jerseys towards New York, and the battle of Monmouth, in which the plan of battle was thwarted by Charles Lee, another of the foreign officers, closed the direct military record of Washington until the end of the war. The enemy confined their movements to other parts of the continent, and Washington did little more than watch their headquarters in New York city. It was more than appropriate, however, that he who had been the mainspring of the war, and had borne far more than his share of its burdens and discouragements, should end it with the campaign of Yorktown, conceived by himself, and the surrender of Cornwallis. The war was then really over, but the commander-in-chief retained his commission until December 28, 1783, when he returned it to Congress, then in session at Annapolis, Md., and retired to Mount Vernon. By this time the canonization of Washington had fairly begun. He occupied such a position in the American political system as no man could possibly hold again. He had become a political element, quite apart from the Union, the States, or the people of either. In a country where communication was still slow and difficult, the general knowledge that Washington favoured anything superseded argument and the necessity of information with very many men. His constant correspondence with the governors of the States gave him a quasi-paternal attitude towards government in general. On resigning his com mission, for example, he was able to do what no other man could have done with propriety or safety : he addressed a circular letter to the governors of the States, pointing out changes in the existing form of government which he believed to be necessary. His refusal to accept a salary, as general or as president, would have been taken as affectation or impertinence in anyone else ; it seemed natural and proper enough in the case of Washington, but it was his peculiar privilege. It is possible that he might have had a crown if he had even been willing. The army, at the end of the war, was justly dissatisfied with its treat ment. The officers were called to meet at Newburgh, and it was the avowed purpose of the leaders of the movement that the army should march westward, appropriate vacant lands, leave Congress to negotiate for peace without an army, and &quot; mock at their calamity and laugh when their fear cometh.&quot; It was the less publicly avowed purpose to make their commander-in-chief king, if he could be per suaded to aid in establishing a monarchy. Washington put a summary stop to the whole proceeding. Their letter to him detailed the weakness of a republican form of government as they had experienced it, their desire for &quot; a mixed government,&quot; with him at its head, and their belief that &quot; the title of king &quot; would be objectionable to few and of material advantage to the country. His reply was peremptory, and even angry. He stated in plain terms his abhorrence of the proposal ; he was at a loss to conceive what part of his conduct could have encouraged their ad dress ; they could not have found &quot; a person to whom their schemes were more disagreeable ; &quot; and he threatened them with exposure unless the affair was stopped at once. His influence, and that alone, secured the quiet disbanding of the discontented army. His influence was as powerful after he had retired to Mount Vernon as before his resigna tion. He was in constant correspondence with public men in every part of the country. He received from them such a store of suggestions as came to no other man, digested it, and was able from it to speak with what seemed infal lible wisdom. In the midst of his voluminous correspond ence, the minute details in his diaries of tree-planting and rotation of crops, and his increasing reading on the political side of history, he found time for a stream of visitors. Among these, in March 1785, were the commissioners from Virginia and Maryland, who met at Alexandria to form a commercial code for Chesapeake Bay, and made an opportunity to visit Mount Vernon. From that moment the current of events, leading into the Annapolis convention of 1786 and the final convention of the next year, shows Washington s close supervision at every point. When the Federal Convention met at Philadelphia in May 1787 to frame the present constitution he was present as a delegate from Virginia, though much against his will ; and a unanimous vote at once made him its presiding officer. He took no part in the debates, however, beyond