1
Forged in War
DURING THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR, the thirteen rebelling colonies experienced violence, disruption, and expansive change. Families lost loved ones, rummaging soldiers and cannon fire damaged farms, and naval warfare on the high seas destroyed businesses. Many individuals who survived the war found that their perspective on society and government had changed dramatically. Each state produced its own new constitution, and in 1781, the Continental Congress adopted the Articles of Confederation as its governing charter. George Washington’s role during the war offered him a unique perspective on the nation’s evolution—he experienced the loss and devastation firsthand, but the war also prepared him for future leadership.
Washington began his military career as a major in the Virginia militia. In 1753, he experienced his first grand adventure when he completed a 300-mile journey to report on French military movements in the Allegheny River Valley.1 The next year, in his new rank as colonel, Washington led 300 men to attack the French at Fort Duquesne (now Pittsburgh). This mission was a complete disaster. On July 3, 1754, Washington signed articles of surrender and was forced to abandon the newly constructed Fort Necessity, and the skirmish accelerated the outbreak of the Seven Years’ War between France, Great Britain, and their respective allies.2 Despite the defeat, Washington was appointed as an aide-de-camp to General Edward Braddock. While serving with Braddock, Washington again faced battle, this time serving bravely to organize the British forces after Braddock’s death on the battlefield. In recognition of his service, the Virginia House of Burgesses promoted Washington again, and at just twenty-three years old he became the commander of all Virginia troops. For the next few years, the Virginia forces under Washington’s command fought admirably, including at a battle that captured Fort Duquesne from the French. In 1758, Washington resigned from the military out of disgust for politicians’ lack of support for the war and the troops. But he did not discard his uniform.3
On May 10, 1775, Washington attended the first meeting of the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia as one of the selected delegates from Virginia.4 John Adams, a delegate from Massachusetts, noted to his wife, Abigail, “Coll. Washington appears at Congress in his Uniform and, by his great Experience and Abilities in military Matters, is of much service to Us.”5 A few weeks later, Adams spearheaded the effort to appoint Washington “GENERAL AND COMMANDER IN CHIEF of the army of the United Colonies and of all the forces raised.”6
At the pinnacle of his military career, Washington understood the high stakes of the war better than anyone—if he failed, independence would fail. Furthermore, if Washington lost the war, he and all of the other rebel leaders would be executed. He observed firsthand the violence and destruction of the war. Washington gained invaluable leadership and managerial experience during the war. He developed leadership strategies to manage his officers, obtain advice, and navigate the sometimes conflicting political aims of the army, civilians, and Congress. When Congress struggled to supply the army or oversee the war effort, he urged government reform to meet the demands of the new nation. Washington witnessed Congress’s attempts to professionalize the executive committee system, and he became convinced that the new nation needed a strong central government to survive.
FIGURE 1.1 George Washington, Charles Willson Peale, 1776. White House Historical Association
Once Washington assumed leadership over the executive branch, he used his experience as commander in chief as a template for governing, creating social environments, and managing complex personalities. He faced similarly high stakes as he had during the Revolution—if he failed, the nation would fail. Washington drew inspiration from his leadership experience as commander in chief of the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War in four ways. First, he modeled cabinet meetings after his councils of war. Second, he developed an administrative system that allowed him to monitor important developments and correspondence, delegate the details to subordinates, and employ his department secretaries as ambassadors for the executive branch, just as his aides had represented his authority as commander in chief. Third, he recreated a social environment similar to the one he had enjoyed at headquarters. Fourth, he supported government reforms that produced independent executive departments in the Confederation Congress. The First Federal Congress adopted these departments in 1789, creating the positions that would become Washington’s secretaries. His presidential leadership cannot be understood without first analyzing his military experience.
Washington’s councils of war and their collaborative atmosphere were an integral part of his war command and the first leadership element that he replicated as president. As commander in chief, Washington convened councils of war when he wished to consult multiple officers before significant decisions.7 These councils served several purposes: they provided advice, helped Washington build consensus among his officers, and offered political cover for controversial decisions. Washington usually hosted the councils in his dining room at headquarters. If he summoned a council during a battle, the officers would gather at a local house or tavern. When the Continental Congress appointed him to the Continental Army, they instructed him to follow the British tradition of consulting with councils of war, but expected Washington to put his own spin on the institution.8 Congress directed Washington to “use your best circumspection and (advising with your council of war) to order and dispose of the said army under your command.”9 Washington initially interpreted Congress’s instructions as orders to secure the council’s approval for all major measures.10 After his defeat in New York in the summer of 1776, however, Congress encouraged him to follow his own judgment and noted that they intended councils simply to advise. John Adams explained that the instruction meant “only that Councils of War, should be called and their Opinions and Reasons demanded, but the General like all other Commanders of Armies, was to pursue his own Judgment after all.”11 Thereafter, Washington convened meetings less frequently and occasionally issued orders against his officers’ advice. He never dictated policy at his councils, however, instead preferring to gather advice from his officers before making his own decision. Washington called councils before commencing almost every major engagement, establishing winter quarters, or adopting a controversial position throughout his tenure as commander in chief.
Washington employed a few strategies to manage his councils of war. Prior to summoning his officers, he almost always developed a series of questions. He often submitted these questions to his officers in advance of the council to give them time to consider the issues and offer thoughtful advice. For example, on October 8, 1775, Washington asked seven questions, including “What Number of Men are sufficient for Winters Campaign,” “Can the pay of the privates be reduced & how much,” and “What Regulations are further necessary for the Government of the Forces?”12 He then used these questions to control the agenda of the meeting. If the officers failed to reach a unanimous decision, he requested written opinions from each officer at the completion of the meeting.
These written opinions served two purposes. First, some of the officers possessed big personalities and dominated council debates. Charles Lee, for example, usually entered a room flanked by a rowdy pack of hounds baying at his heels. As one of the most experienced officers, he was quick to assert his seniority and his opinions. He cared little for human companionship, so he rarely considered how he offered his wisdom or whether his words offended the other officers.13 By requesting written opinions, Washington ensured that more reserved officers had the opportunity to share their positions, and he was able to gather as much advice and information as possible. Second, he preferred to consider all options and come to a final decision slowly, which he would then implement immediately and decisively. The written opinions gave Washington more time to consider each position in private.
Washington used councils of war for many purposes. From the beginning of his command, he employed councils to build consensus for an upcoming campaign. Washington found this strategy especially helpful during his first year as commander in chief, when he was building relationships with an officer corps that did not know him or have much reason to trust his leadership. In several councils of war held during the fall of 1775, he proposed an attack on the British troops in Boston. As the new commander in chief, Washington was eager to prove himself. The first round of army enlistments was about to expire and he believed a full frontal attack was necessary. Each time, his officers wisely opposed an attack, citing the British camp’s strong defensive position and the American troops’ inexperience. General Nathanael Greene agreed that an attack was not practicable unless “10,000 Men could be landed at Boston.”14 At a council of war in November 1775, Washington secured the officers’ approval for a bit of decisive action. The officers agreed to bombard the British troops from Dorchester Heights, but regretfully informed Washington that the Continental Army lacked the necessary artillery for such an attack to succeed.15 Not to be deterred, Washington instructed Henry Knox to travel to upstate New York to get more cannons. Knox departed almost immediately and spent the next several months transporting sixty tons of cannons and other artillery from Ticonderoga to Boston.16
After Knox returned, Washington called a council of war on February 16, 1776. He updated his officers on the recent reinforcements from Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Hampshire, and shared intelligence regarding the depleted British forces. He suggested an all-out attack on Boston, taking advantage of the recent shift in weather. During a cold spell, Cambridge and Roxbury Bay (now filled in and part of Boston) had frozen over, so rather than rounding up thousands of vessels to transport his soldiers, Washington planned to march the army across the ice. Envisioning thousands of American troops slipping and sliding across the ice—easy targets for British sharp-shooters—the officers politely rejected Washington’s proposal: “Resolved that an Assault on the Town of Boston in the present circumstances of the Continental Army is … Judged Improper.” Although Washington’s discipline and training had improved the appearance of the army, most of the soldiers were still woefully inexperienced and could not be trusted to follow orders in the face of British fire. Furthermore, the war effort was less than a year old. Some states favored independence, while others were still on the fence. An overwhelming defeat might end the war before it had truly begun.
Washington then asked if the council would support “a Cannonade & Bombardment with the present stock of powder.” The officers agreed to a bombardment as soon as “a proper Supply of powder” arrived. In the meantime, the council recommended taking immediate possession of Dorchester Hill with Knox’s new cannons, which they thought would draw out the British from their encampment in Boston. Washington finally adjourned the council with a plan of action in hand.17
On the night of March 4, Washington deployed 1,500 men to drag the Ticonderoga cannons up to the top of Dorchester Hill. When the fog burned off the next morning, the British woke to formidable defensive works atop the hill and American artillery pointed at their navy. British general William Howe offered a temporary truce to Washington: If the British army was allowed to leave unmolested, he would leave the city of Boston intact. Otherwise, he would burn the city to the ground. At this point in the war, Washington was willing to trade the city for an army and accepted the deal.18 At each council meeting leading up to this victory, Washington had yielded to the officers’ judgment and found a compromise plan of action. Upon entering Boston after the British abandoned the city, he expressed gratitude for his officers’ caution. It turned out that the British had installed barricades throughout the entire city, making the roads nearly impassible. Any attempt to recapture the city would have resulted in a bloodbath.19
Washington also convened councils of war to provide political cover before adopting a potentially controversial decision. For example, Washington sought support for a series of retreats from New York to New Jersey during the summer and fall of 1776. While the retreats were sound military decisions, he believed Congress expected him to defend the city, and he allowed pressure from congressional delegates to color his judgment. In May, John Hancock, president of the Continental Congress, had politely summoned Washington to “consult with Congress, upon such Measures as may be necessary for the carrying on the ensuing Campaign.”20 No record remains of Washington’s conversation with Congress once he arrived on May 23, but he left fully persuaded that Congress wanted him to stand and fight for New York City.21
Later on in the war, Washington relied on his own judgment and the assessments of his officers rather than the political motivations of Congress. Allowing Congress to influence policy was one of many mistakes he made during the New York campaign. When he first arrived in New York in the summer of 1776, he immediately broke one of the cardinal rules of military command—he split his forces between Brooklyn and Manhattan. General Greene commanded the Brooklyn forces, entrenched on high ground on eastern Long Island, while Washington oversaw the Manhattan forces. General William Howe, the British commander, did not make the same mistake. Instead, he worked in concert with the enormous British navy. As a result, the British troops were highly mobile and could easily flank American positions. Although holding New York forever was likely impossible, Washington hoped that the defensive obstructions installed around the city would slow down the British.
On August 27, 1776, the British forces attacked the American position on Long Island and inflicted an overwhelming defeat.22 The remaining American troops hunkered down behind fortifications on Brooklyn Heights. British forces blocked the escape on land to the north of Brooklyn, and the British navy controlled the East River, eliminating the escape on water. Washington knew an immediate retreat to the island of Manhattan was necessary before he lost half his army. He recognized, however, that the decision to retreat in the face of British victory would be controversial. A few days later, Washington convened a council to discuss next steps with his officers. As the sun went down, the officers straggled into Washington’s headquarters. Most had not slept since before the battle on Long Island and were exhausted, wet from three days of torrential downpour, and covered with mud. As a thick fog settled over the harbor and crept over the American defenses on Brooklyn Heights, the officers debated their future and the future of the Continental Army. The ominous weather outside matched the mood of the council inside headquarters.23 Very quickly the officers resolved unanimously in favor of a retreat because the “great Loss sustained in the death or Captivity of Several valuable Officers,” had resulted in “great confusion and discouragement among the Troops.”24 After the council of war, Washington reported the decision and the retreat to Congress: “I have Inclosed a Copy of the Council of War held previous to the Retreat, to which I beg leave to refer Congress for the Reasons or many of them, that led to the adoption of that measure.”25
After the council of war on the night of August 29, Washington issued immediate evacuation orders. Under the cover of the thick fog, the troops piled into ferries, boats, and any other floating device they could find. Over the next six hours, Washington and his aides supervised the retreat from the shoreline and followed in one of the last boats that escaped to Manhattan. When the British inspected the American lines the next morning, only five lonely cannons were left guarding the empty defensive works.26
The new American position provided scant haven from British might, however. Much like Long Island, Manhattan could easily be surrounded by British warships. If the British army landed on Manhattan Island north of the city and blocked the land escape, the army could be trapped. On September 15, Washington discovered this potential nightmare scenario when the British troops landed at Kip’s Bay. He quickly pulled his troops back to Harlem Heights, abandoning New York City to the mercy of the British.27 For a few weeks, the Americans enjoyed a small reprieve. Washington established his headquarters in the elegant Morris Mansion, now the Morris-Jumel Mansion, on top of the bluff in Harlem Heights. From this site, the army had an excellent view of British movements in New York City and the harbor. The American troops also won a small victory in the Battle of Harlem Heights, in which they withstood an attack and drove back the British troops.28
FIGURE 1.2 The Battle of Harlem Heights, September 16, 1776.
Just a few weeks after the American victory at Harlem Heights, Washington and his officers received intelligence that the British planned to land north of Harlem and trap the Continental Army. On the night of October 16, Washington gathered the officers in the formal parlor at the Morris Mansion. Perhaps some of the officers stood around the ornate fireplace to warm their hands and feet after riding to headquarters. Others may have peeked out the windows to inspect fortifications or look for signs of an impending British attack. Washington opened the council on a somber note. He read aloud accounts by deserted British soldiers that revealed the British army’s plans to circle behind American lines and surround the Continental Army. After much deliberation, Washington and the officers agreed to retreat further to White Plains to maintain an escape route.29 After another defeat at White Plains, Washington finally led his troops to safety in New Jersey.30
While Washington’s retreats in New York were technically sound decisions, they called his abilities into question. When the army retreated to New Jersey, it left New York City and the valuable harbor to the mercy of the British. Philadelphia remained the biggest city and port in the new world, but New York City was growing rapidly. The deep harbor provided an excellent stop for warships, and the city’s importance as a trade hub increased daily. Additionally, the Americans abandoned valuable artillery and supplies to complete a hasty retreat out of the city.31 Finally, losing the large and wealthy city of New York to the British inflicted an enormous psychological blow to the army and the country. Washington worried about public backlash and gathered the officers’ opinions. On September 12, 1776, he called another council to make sure he retained the support of his officers before abandoning Manhattan entirely to the British.32 Although Washington never faced a formal inquiry from Congress, he possessed the written support of his officers if he needed it.
Washington also convened councils of war to learn from the expertise and judgment of his officers. On December 25, 1776, Washington’s forces famously crossed the Delaware River and inflicted an overwhelming defeat on Hessian forces hired by the British and stationed at Trenton, New Jersey. A few nights later, on January 2, 1777, Washington held a critical council of war. After his Trenton victory, Washington had planned to retreat quickly back across the Delaware River to safety from a British counterattack. However, he longed to strike again at the British while they were reeling from the Americans’ surprise victory, so he postponed his retreat into Pennsylvania. Suddenly, British reinforcements under the command of General Charles Cornwallis advanced more rapidly and in larger numbers from Princeton to Trenton than Washington expected. On the morning of January 2, American forces had defended their position against initial British attacks. Washington’s sources revealed that Cornwallis planned to attack the next morning: the British would try to ford Assupink Creek north of the American defenses, attack the right flank of the American position, and pin Washington against the Delaware River. The American army risked entrapment in a vulnerable position. The Delaware River hemmed in the rear of the American army, and the British forces blocked Washington’s escape to the north.
Cornwallis had pursued Washington for months but had failed to inflict a fatal blow. At last, Cornwallis believed, he finally had the Americans cornered. Cornwallis had every reason to be confident, perhaps even arrogant: he was the most aristocratic of all the British commanders, he had succeeded to his family’s title in his early twenties, and he came from a long line of distinguished military service. His military record spoke for itself; he had been awarded significant promotions by age twenty-three and served as a privy councilor to the king by age thirty. Cornwallis had received the finest education at Eton College and Cambridge before serving with distinction in Frederick the Great’s army during the Seven Years’ War. Once in America, he had racked up victories in New York against the Continental forces, often capturing cannons, provisions, and—most embarrassingly—the personal baggage of Washington’s officers.33 Only Washington had eluded him. On January 2, Cornwallis confidently predicted a British victory and boasted that he would finally bag “the old fox.”34 The Continental Army appeared to be cornered.
FIGURE 1.3 Trenton and vicinity, January 2–3, 1777.
Washington met the officers at General Arthur St. Clair’s quarters, a modest two-and-a-half-story clapboard structure known as the Douglass House. The Douglass House sat on the outskirts of Trenton, just next to the army’s camp. It was significantly smaller than the council’s usual settings, but Washington had yet to establish a new headquarters in New Jersey. On the night of January 2, Washington hastily gathered his officers to address the British threat and the precarious American position. Just after dark, the officers stuffed into the living room on the first floor of the Douglass House and crowded around the small fireplace. They were followed by their aides-de-camp and local citizens Washington had invited.35 The aides removed the chairs and much of the furniture to make space for the dozens of people in attendance. The participants were on edge as they considered the possibility of battle the next morning.
Washington opened the meeting by apprising the officers of their situation. He praised the army for its recent victory in Trenton and their stalwart defense against Cornwallis’s troops that morning. He then turned to the current dilemma. As he saw it, the army had two options: attempt a dangerous and hasty retreat over the Delaware River in the middle of the night in freezing temperatures and high winds, or engage in a “hazardous general engagement” by directly attacking the British defenses.36 The Continental forces had already tempted fate once by crossing the Delaware River at night in the middle of winter. He was not eager to repeat the experience. The winds had picked up, and Washington no longer had the element of surprise on his side. British forces were carefully watching the American lines. If American soldiers tried to cross back over the Delaware, they would be easy targets for British sharpshooters and artillery.
Directly attacking the British line seemed like a poor alternative. Cornwallis had entrenched his defensive position and lined up his artillery to face the Americans. At best, Washington knew, his forces would sustain devastating casualties. At worst, Cornwallis’s troops would defeat the Continental Army once and for all. With retreat over the Delaware impossible, Washington would have to surrender—an unthinkable outcome.
Arthur St. Clair suggested a third alternative. St. Clair held the extreme right flank of the army, and his men had patrolled the country lanes just beyond camp. They discovered that the army could escape to Princeton if the troops swung southeastward around the British forces. A few of Washington’s officers from New Jersey confirmed St. Clair’s report of the country lanes. Adjutant Joseph Reed, who had been raised in Trenton, reported that he had patrolled the back roads earlier that day and they were clear of British soldiers. Encouraged by this new option, Washington asked his soldiers to consult with local civilians nearby to confirm that the path would take his army to Princeton. The locals offered their encouragement and even volunteered to guide the army through their farmland.37 The civilian support convinced Washington to move forward with the plan, so he issued orders with unanimous approval from his officers.38
To disguise the American escape, Washington had work parties build giant fires and make a great show of improving their fortifications as if preparing for an attack. Behind the diversion, the other soldiers packed up camp, wrapped wagon wheels in rags to muffle any noise, and began marching silently toward Princeton. British soldiers on duty reported the troop movement, but Cornwallis mistakenly assumed the Americans were planning a frontal attack, just as Washington hoped. Instead, Washington evaded Cornwallis yet again.39 The next morning, Cornwallis realized the Continental Army had escaped and gave chase to Princeton, but Washington’s army had already surprised the British forces under Lt. Colonel Charles Mawhood and inflicted more than 450 casualties. The Battle of Princeton provided a numerical and ideological victory for the Americans.40
On the night of January 2, Cornwallis himself had held a council of war. Cornwallis’s council was a much smaller, more intimate affair than the one Washington held. Most of the attending officers came from high aristocratic families, had attended prestigious boarding schools together, and served in Parliament. Cornwallis treated councils as his own personal court and ruled over them. The officers addressed him as “my lord,” and he called the officers by their old nicknames from their boarding school days. At the council, Cornwallis presented his own plan and expected his subordinates to heartily agree. One subordinate, Sir William Erskine, did venture a contrary opinion. He suggested that if Cornwallis “trust[ed] those people to-night you will see nothing of them in the morning.” Cornwallis dismissed Erskine’s concerns and assured him that “he had the enemy safe enough, and could dispose of them next morning.”41 He was wrong.
The cultures fostered by Cornwallis and Washington differed greatly. The officers in Washington’s councils of war deeply respected him, but deference did not restrain their conversations. Washington sometimes invited local citizens to attend—from the poorest farmer to elite plantation owners—which meant that the councils were much more representative of American society than the aristocratic enclave at Cornwallis’s court. Observers also noticed that the officers spoke like civilians rather than well-educated military officers. They spoke with regional accents instead of in posh English, and they used colloquial phrases rather than military terminology. During the January 2, 1777, council, Knox described the American army as “ ‘cooped up’ like a flock of chickens.”42 While not always the case, the bluntness of American officers sometimes offered a sharp contrast with the behavior of the aristocratic officers in Cornwallis’s army.
Not all British councils of war were dominated by aristocratic yes-men. During the Seven Years’ War, Washington convened and attended many councils of war with the British army, each with its own practices and ethos. In the spring of 1754, Washington led 150 men to the forks of the Monongahela, Allegheny, and Ohio Rivers to protect the new British fort located on the bank of the rivers. While marching west, Washington received news that French forces had seized the fort with little resistance. On April 23, Washington convened a council of war with his officers and Indian allies. The council determined that attacking the French without additional reinforcements would be foolish and instead proposed that they march for a fortified storehouse on Red Stone Creek. This location would make a good defensive position to wait for additional troops from the Carolinas and New York.43 In this council, Washington proposed the plan and the attendants appeared to readily offer their approval.
The next year, Washington attended several councils as an aide-de-camp in Major General Edward Braddock’s official family. Washington’s records suggest a few of Braddock’s strategies for governing his councils. On May 30, Braddock presented a dilemma for his officers’ consideration: there were simply too many wagons and too much baggage for the army to march quickly. According to Washington, the officers agreed to send back as much “of their Baggage as they could do with[ou]t … with great chearfulness and zeal.”44 Apparently this cheerfulness evaporated rather quickly, because one month later Braddock summoned his officers again. He appealed to the officers’ sense of duty and encouraged them to act “laudably” by further reducing their baggage. Washington wryly noted that the officers reduced the number of bags from 210 to 200, which “had no perceivable effect.”45 Compared to Cornwallis’s council of January 2, 1777, Braddock’s councils appear almost democratic and demonstrate the great variety of practices among British officers.
While not all Washington’s councils were so successful, his January 2 council showcased his greatest strengths as commander in chief. Inheriting a vague British council of war practice, he modified his gatherings to reflect his circumstances and the talents of his subordinates. Washington received little formal book training and never authored political treatises, but he possessed rare social intelligence. He accepted his weaknesses and sought out advisors and subordinates who brought different skills and knowledge.
Finally, Washington used councils to protect his reputation when he avoided direct engagement with the British. Throughout the war, he often surveyed the state of the army and concluded that an attack would fail due to lack of artillery, supplies, and clothing. He understood that he had to preserve the army in the short term to win the war in the long term, and he relied on councils of war to support that strategy. For example, before the British forced Washington to abandon New York City, he proposed a counterattack on the British camp on Staten Island. At a council held on July 12, 1776, the officers unanimously opposed an attack, as he probably anticipated.46 In his next report to Congress, Washington wished “to acquaint them that by the advice of Genl Mercer and the other Officers at Amboy, It will be impracticable to do anything upon a large Scale for want of Craft, and as the Enemy have the entire command of the Water all round the Island.”47 When congressmen desired action, Washington used the advice of his officers to deflect potential criticism.
Similarly, in the late fall of 1777, Washington contemplated attacking the British troops occupying Philadelphia. Greene described Washington’s unenviable task of having to choose between two unpleasant alternatives: “To fight the Enemy without the least Prospect of Success … or remain inactive, & be subject to the Censure of an ignorant & impatient populace.”48 Over the next several weeks, Washington requested input from his officers.49 On October 29, Washington summoned a council of war at headquarters in the Dawesfield Mansion (also known as Camp Morris) in Whitpain, Pennsylvania. In the council minutes, Hamilton noted sixteen generals present. Washington likely welcomed the officers into the parlor. The Dawesfield parlor was opulent, but considerably smaller than some of Washington’s previous headquarters. With at least seventeen men in attendance, the room would have been a tight fit and chairs scarce. Once again, the officers found themselves huddled around a fireplace in a too-small room tasked with determining the army’s future. American forces suffered embarrassing defeats at the Battles of Brandywine and Germantown on September 11 and October 4. These defeats left Philadelphia open to the British army and forced the Continental Congress to flee to avoid capture. The future seemed dire. At the conclusion of the meeting, Washington requested written opinions from the officers.
On November 24, Washington still felt compelled to attack Philadelphia. He convened another meeting and again requested written opinions after the conclusion of the meetings. A week later, Washington sent a circular to the officers requesting their opinions one last time on whether they should engage in a winter campaign or enter winter headquarters.50 On all three occasions, most of the officers opposed a winter campaign and encouraged Washington instead to rest, supply, and train the troops. In his opinion, Greene wrote that to attack would
make a bad matter worse and take a Measure, that if it proves unfortunate, you [Washington] may stand condemned for … [I]n pursuing the other [winter quarters] you have the Approbation of your own mind, you give your Country an opportunity to exert itself to supply the present Deficiency, & also act upon such military Principles as will justify you to the best Judges in the present day, & to all future Generations.51
Washington agreed, but not before securing written support from his officers—three separate times—for a choice that he knew might be unpopular.
Washington created a process to manage the business of commanding and administering an army, which he would go on to recreate a decade later as president. His command required the support of several brilliant and talented aides-de-camp whose abilities complemented his own. He held high expectations for his aides. In his mind, they ought to have been men from respectable middle-class or elite families so that they could comfortably mingle with the dignitaries at camp. He required them to have a solid education so that they could read and write effectively. And they needed to have a calm demeanor to withstand the pace and anxieties of war. In January 1777, Washington wrote to his former aide Robert Hanson Harrison and asked if Harrison’s brother-in-law would be interested in serving as an aide. In the letter, Washington listed the qualities he valued: “A Man of Education. I believe him to be a Man of Sense—these are two very necessary qualifications; but how is his temper?” Washington went on to assure Harrison that he did not expect his aides to have military knowledge, but “if they can write a good Letter—write quick—are methodical, & deligent, it is all I expect to find in my Aids.”52
Washington emphasized writing skills beyond all other factors because the aides spent the bulk of their time on paperwork. During the eight years of the Revolutionary War, Washington’s headquarters produced more than fifty thousand documents.53 Aides read incoming correspondence, drafted outgoing letters, compiled reports of manpower, and maintained expense accounts. They also kept these documents relatively organized while traveling thousands of miles across the American countryside, often lodging in different headquarters from one week to the next or sleeping in tents on the battlefield. The aides produced this voluminous correspondence on top of the social obligations of hosting dignitaries at headquarters and delivering Washington’s orders on the battlefield under enemy fire. Washington kept a close eye on all correspondence, but the aides completed most of the writing: “The General’s usual mode of giving notes to his secretaries or aids for letters of business. Having made out a letter from such notes, it was submitted to the General for his approbation and correction—afterwards copied fair, when it was again copied and signed by him.”54 This arrangement allowed Washington to monitor all developments at headquarters without getting bogged down in minutiae or wasting time writing thousands of letters himself. There were simply too many details to track, letters to write, orders to issue, reports to read, and defenses to inspect for Washington to take care of everything himself. Overseeing and administering the Continental Army required delegation.
Washington also deployed his subordinates as ambassadors for his agenda, cultivated their connections to curry favor, and assigned tasks to make the most of their abilities. He refined this strategy as commander in chief and took the same approach with his department secretaries as president.
During the Revolutionary War, Washington’s aides were indispensable. He conducted most of the daily business in headquarters with his aides. They drafted and delivered instructions to the subordinate officers, and on any given day, a few officers would also stop by Washington’s lodgings to discuss upcoming marches, fortifications, or battle plans. Washington also relied on his aides to survey territory and gather intelligence before battle. In the middle of the disastrous New York campaign, Washington used his aides to survey the damage inflicted by British attacks. On September 9, 1776, Tench Tilghman described to his father how he climbed up to the battery at Hell Gate, which had been attacked by two British ships: “The General set me up last Night to see what Situation things were in, when I found our Fortification but little damaged, not more than could be repaired in an hour.”55
The Battle of Monmouth Court House on June 28, 1778, demonstrated the important trust that Washington placed in his aides during a battle. The previous fall, the Continental Army had suffered several embarrassing defeats before abandoning Philadelphia to the British. After a long winter, Washington was spoiling for a fight to redeem himself. As soon as the British Army left winter quarters in Philadelphia and marched north into New Jersey, he planned to order an attack at the back of the British troops. At 5:00 A.M. on June 28, Washington received reports that the British troops were on the move. He sent Richard Kidder Meade to instruct General Charles Lee to undertake an immediate attack on the rear of the British army.56 While Lee led the initial attack, Washington planned to bring up the rest of the army from the camp in Penelopen and meet up with Lee in Monmouth. Meanwhile, he instructed John Laurens and James McHenry to inspect the terrain near the courthouse. As part of the plan, Lee expected backup from troops under Washington’s command. Instead, Washington inexplicably delayed his march until later in the morning and left Lee without support. Faced with much larger British forces, Lee ordered an immediate retreat. Washington received the first reports of Lee’s retreat at 12:35 P.M. and immediately dispatched Robert Harrison and John Fitzgerald to ride ahead of the troops and gather intelligence.57
When Washington finally met up with Lee at 12:45 P.M., they were both far west of the town. The commander in chief was irate. Despite his best efforts, Lee could offer no explanation that would excuse his behavior in Washington’s mind. Washington took control of the army himself and positioned Anthony Wayne’s battalion in the woods to slow down the British march.58 He also dispatched Tilghman to bring up Lieutenant Colonel David Rhea, who was from New Jersey and could provide information on the surrounding area.59 The two armies clashed over the next several hours before darkness ended the battle on the night of June 28. British commander General Sir Henry Clinton had no intention of continuing the battle the next morning and organized a silent evacuation to New York overnight.
FIGURE 1.4 The Battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778.
Washington shared some of the blame for Lee’s retreat and the ambivalent outcome of the battle. He had approved a complex battle plan that required precise execution and constant contact between officers. Although the American forces had a rocky start to the battle, Washington, with his aides’ assistance, salvaged a stalemate in the face of near-certain defeat.
Washington also used his aides as intermediaries between headquarters and Congress. Sometimes he asked the aides to send battlefield updates to Congress when he was too busy to write. While the Continental Army suffered several defeats in New York City during the summer of 1776, Washington had used his aides to keep Congress abreast of developments. On August 27, 1776, Robert Hanson Harrison provided a report of the Americans’ defeat on Long Island to the president of Congress:
This minute returned from our lines on Long Island where I left his Excellency the General. From him I have it in command to inform the Congress that yesterday he went there and continued till evening, where from the enemy’s having landed a considerable part of their forces, and many of their movements, there was reason to apprehend they would make in a little time a general attack.… Early this morning a smart engagement ensued between the enemy and our detachments, which being unequal to the force they had to contend with, have sustained a considerable loss.60
These reports reminded congressmen, locked in a chamber debating policy measures far away from the battlefield, of the dangers of war and the high stakes of each battle. Perhaps by sending messages through his aides, Washington also wished to send the subtle message that he had his hands full and could not always correspond with Congress as quickly as it wished.
Other times, Washington used his aides to influence congressional decisions indirectly. On December 12, 1776, a British patrol had captured General Charles Lee while he enjoyed a beverage at White’s Tavern in Basking Ridge, New Jersey. After his capture, Lee had requested a meeting with a congressional delegation to discuss peace negotiations and prisoner of war exchanges, which Congress refused. Washington felt that the meeting would cause no harm because the request came from Lee and not the British generals. The next March, he encouraged Tilghman to write to Robert Morris, hoping that Morris would use his influence to change Congress’s decision. In his letter, Tilghman confided in Morris, indicating that Washington often held his tongue to not disrespect the civilian power instilled in Congress:
I should not have given you my Sentiments on these Subjects thus freely and confidentially, but I know I can say more to you than the General would wish to say to Congress, least they should construe a freedom of Expression into an abuse and ill use of those extensive powers with which they have lately vested in him. If my Sentiments and Reasons should happily coincide with yours upon the occasion, I hope the Influence which you possess in the House, may enable you to obtain such an Alteration in the Measures alluded to, as may be of more advantage to Genl. Lee, whom they are principally intended to serve, and of more essential good to the public.61
Tilghman, and many of Washington’s other aides, served as effective ambassadors for his administration. Washington recognized his aides’ elite connections and their effective lobbying on his behalf and did not hesitate to take advantage of these contacts.
While Washington commanded and administered the Continental Army, he also kept close tabs on the daily operations back home at his slave plantation at Mount Vernon using many of the same strategies. When home, he preferred a hands-on approach to managing his property, enslaved workers and free employees, crops, and livestock. He visited all five of the farms that made up his plantation each day, riding more than twenty miles to inspect the 3,000 acres under cultivation, observe the 200 enslaved people laboring on the plantation, and review his agricultural experiments. On Saturdays, the farm managers visited Washington to report on the week’s progress.62
When he was away, Washington required weekly reports on the plantation. Lund Washington, a distant cousin, cared for the plantation and Washington’s family during the war. Meticulous and attentive to details, he carefully drafted lengthy updates at least once a week, sometimes up to six letters per month.63 Lund agonized over Washington’s financial accounts—eager to pay off the appropriate debts and ensure that Washington was paid what he was owed, but acutely aware that he was not always privy to Washington’s conversations and did not always have all the information. As he explained in one of his letters, “I find my self equally anxious to discharge a Debt against you, as I am to pay one of my own, I sometimes am askd for small sums which they say you owe them, it may be true or false I cannot tell, but it destresses me, for I woud that you should owe no man.” When directing the extensive mansion improvements, Lund followed Washington’s instructions to a fault: “I have had a great Inclination to alter the Doors, but am unwilg to make an alteration in any thing that you have directed—it will not look well being different from the Kitchen.”64
Although he was far from home, Washington did not relinquish control, even over the small details. He sent back ongoing instructions about the house renovations, where to plant specific trees, and countless other plantation details.65 He evidently approved of Lund’s handling of the estate and their communications, as he tried to recreate similar working relationships through contractual obligations with future managers. When Washington had to hire a new manager for the plantation during the presidency, he detailed his expectations in the contract. For example, in September 1793, Washington signed an agreement with William Pearce that outlined specific agricultural goals, including the introduction of “Clover & other Grasses” and the substitution of “live in place of dead fences.” The agreement obligated Pearce to provide “regular weekly reports from each Farm & class of people,” “an exact list” of “tools & implements of husbandry” from each farm, “regular accounts with each Farm, & with every separate branch of business.”66
As with his aides-de-camp and military officers, Washington intended to be kept apprised of all plantation developments. Washington granted latitude to dependable subordinates and laid out specific expectations and demands for those who had yet to earn his trust. His experience supervising his plantation managers from afar served as a model for communication and delegation that Washington would consider in all of his leadership positions.
Washington embraced an active social life as commander in chief, and he recreated it as president. He established an official family by surrounding himself with his favorite officers and aides-de-camp. Washington inherited the concept of an official military family from when he served in the British army as a major. As far back as March 1755, Washington had shared with friends and family that General Braddock had “honour[ed me] by kindly inviting me to become one of his Family.”67 British military tradition allowed each commanding officer to select his own aides. The aides shared lodgings and meals, and traveled with the commanding officer, so the group was described as a family.68 The Continental Army continued this tradition. All of the officers, including Washington, selected their own aides and formed their own families. Washington’s aides provided company, processed daily correspondence at headquarters, served as intermediaries between headquarters and Congress, and scouted battlefields.
Washington fostered a social life in camp that endeared him to his aides. During each campaign, he often slept in a large tent on the field with the army. His aides joined him, pitching their own tents or sleeping in the outer compartments of Washington’s larger tent. While each officer decided on his own sleeping location, many generals preferred to set up camp in a nearby house or tavern. The fact that Washington always slept on the field with his troops during a campaign did not go unnoticed by his troops. James McHenry described the lifestyle: “In sleeping in the open fields—under trees exposed to the night air and all changes of the weather I only followed the example of our General.… When I joined his Excellency’s suite I gave up soft beds—undisturbed repose—and the habits of ease and indulgence which reign in some departments—for a single blanket—the hard floor—or the softer sods of the fields—early rising and almost perpetual duty.”69 Most of the troops loved Washington for not using his lofty position to escape the hardships of army life.
During the winter, Washington enjoyed a slightly more comfortable routine. Each winter, the Continental Army selected one location to set up longer-term quarters. Washington usually established his headquarters in a private home or inn. Lower-ranking officers shared a house, and the infantry built wood huts instead of using tents. Sometimes the homes were large and elegant, like the Vassall House (now the Longfellow House), which served as Washington’s headquarters from June 1775 to April 1776. The Vassall family used their vast wealth from their Caribbean sugar plantations to construct the elegant, three-story yellow mansion, which still stands at 105 Brattle Street in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The room featured ornate woodwork, marble fireplaces in each room, and extensive gardens. More often, however, only small, bare homes were available for Washington’s headquarters.
During the 1777 winter season, Washington and his officers selected Valley Forge for its proximity to Philadelphia and the British Army. Washington’s wife, Martha, soon joined her husband at headquarters, as she did every winter. The following March, she wrote to Mercy Otis Warren and described their lodgings: “The Genral is in camped in what is called the Great Valley on the Banks of the Schuykill … the Generals appartment is very small he has had a log cabben built to dine in which has made our quarter much more tolarable than they were at first.”70
A few years later, the Marquis de Chastellux visited Washington at his new headquarters at Morehouse’s Tavern in New Jersey. The Marquis was less than impressed with the General’s surroundings:
The headquarters at Newburgh consists of a single house, neither spacious nor convenient.… The largest room in it, which had served as the owner’s family parlor and which General Washington has converted into his dining room, is in truth fairly spacious, but it has seven doors and only one window. The fireplace, or rather the fire back, is against the walls, so that there is in fact but one vent for smoke, and the fire is in the room itself. I found the company assembled in a rather small room which served as the “parlour.”71
Winter quarters provided comforts beyond four solid walls and a roof. Martha’s presence at camp encouraged the wives of other generals to join their husbands, and the women fostered a lively social scene, which often provided much-needed boosts to morale. The New-York Journal described a feast hosted at headquarters to celebrate the Franco-American alliance: “Mrs. Washington, the Countess of Stirling [Sarah Livingston Alexander], Lady Kitty her daughter, Mrs. Greene, and a number of other ladies favored the feast with their company, amongst whom good humour and the graces were contending for the pre-eminence.”72
The officers’ wives created a daily social scene, in addition to the special balls and feasts. Martha Dangerfield Bland described her visit to Washington’s headquarters to her sister-in-law, Frances Bland Randolph. Bland detailed her regular interactions with the Washingtons and the busy social schedule at camp while visiting her husband, Theodorick: “We visit them twice or three times a week by particular invitation—Ev’ry day frequently from Inclination—he is generally busy in the forenoon—but from dinner till night he is free for all company.” Bland expressed her approval of both the commander in chief and his wife: “Our Noble and Agreable Commander (for he commands both Sexes) one by his Excellent Skill in Military Matters, the other by his ability politeness and attention. His Worthy Lady seems to be in perfect felicity while she is by the side of her Old Man as she calls him.” Bland also recounted their enjoyable outings with Washington’s family: “We often make partys on Horse Back the Genl his lady Miss [Susan] Livingstone & his Aid de Camps.… These are the Genls family all polite sociable gentlemen who make the day pass with a great deal of satisfaction to the Visitors.” At the end of her letter, Bland confided to her sister that Washington was far from reserved, as she had previously assumed: “[During the rides] General Washington throws off the Hero—and takes on the chatty agreeable companion—he can be down right impudent sometimes—such impudence, Fanny, as you and I like.”73
While Washington may have been warm with Martha Bland, humor and engaging conversation did not always come easily to him. He recognized his social limitations and surrounded himself with people who offered skills that he lacked. As a result, he expected his aides to serve as unofficial hosts at his headquarters. He believed that as commander in chief, he needed to remain slightly aloof from company, which suited his more reserved nature anyway. His sociable and friendly aides allowed him to maintain this persona while still welcoming guests to camp.74 John Trumbull, one of Washington’s aides in 1775, struggled with the social responsibilities of the aides: “I now suddenly found myself in the family of one of the most distinguished and dignified men of the age; surrounded at his table, by the principal officers of the army, and in constant intercourse with them.” Trumbull labored to fulfill his responsibilities, including his “duty to receive company [and] do the honors of the house to many of the first people of the country of both sexes. I soon felt myself unequal to the elegant duties of my situation.” Trumbull expressed relief when new aides arrived and relieved his burden: “[I] was gratified when Mr. Edmund Randolph … and Mr. Baylor arrived from Virginia, and were named aids-du-camp, to succeed Mr. Mifflin and myself.”75
Guests noticed how the aides-de-camp played a central role in the social life at headquarters. The Marquis de Chastellux described a dinner at Washington’s table: “The Meal was in the English fashion, consisting of eight or ten large dishes of meat and poultry, with vegetables of several sorts, followed by a second course of pastry, comprised under the two denominations of ‘pies’ and ‘puddings.’ ” After the end of the official meal, servants removed the tablecloth and brought out fruit and enormous bowls of nuts as after-dinner snacks. The servants also brought out “a few bottles of good Bordeaux and Madeira” for the table. Every evening a different aide sat at the head of the table. This aide “performed the honors of the table at dinner … seated … near the General, to serve all the dishes and distribute the bottles.” While eating, Washington, the aides, officers, and guests participated in a round of toasts. Chastellux described the toasts as “a sort of refrain punctuating the conversation, as a reminder that each individual is part of the company and that the whole forms but one society.” At first Washington suggested a few solemn toasts, which were then offered by the aides. The toasts later in the evening were proposed by the aides without order or formality.76
Social events at headquarters served several important purposes. Washington welcomed social elites, representatives from Congress, and state officials to headquarters to build important political networks. Visitors brought news and important personal correspondence. They brought firsthand accounts of the debates in Congress and the state of affairs elsewhere in the country. They also served as private carriers and brought letters and dispatches from friends, family, and colleagues.77
Congressional visits to headquarters were one of the most crucial social events Washington hosted. He invited representatives to witness the hardships suffered by his troops, adopt measures to improve the supply chain, and discuss strategy for upcoming engagements. For example, in the fall of 1777, Washington had consulted with his officers and decided against attacking the British army in Philadelphia. He knew Congress expected some sort of aggressive action, so he invited a committee of congressmen to tour the camp and provide counsel. He understood that the committee would see the army’s weariness and low morale. Washington succeeded in his goal of subtly convincing the committee that an attack on the British army was unwise. After the visit, the committee concluded that “a general discontent in the army and especially among the Officers” rendered a successful winter campaign unlikely. The committee vowed to make several recommendations to Congress to reform the army and improve the condition of the troops.78
Washington also showcased the hospitality expected of genteel southern aristocrats, doing so in order to sway local elites. In 1775, he initially greeted civilians in Boston with “ceremonious Civility,” but the New Englanders mistook his gravity for coldness. After learning of this mistake, he promised to “endeavor at reformation” of his approach and began working to win over his critics.79 By the time he left Boston, the leading families reported on his charms. Mercy Warren found Washington to be “the most amiable and accomplished gentleman, both in person, mind, and manners” that she had ever met.80 Abigail Adams agreed: “Dignity with ease, and complacency, the Gentleman and Soldier look agreeably blended in him. Modesty marks every line and feature of his face.”81
Finally, dinners with officers and aides fostered an esprit de corps and offered an opportunity to discuss the day’s events. He cultivated relationships with his officers and their families at daily meals. Washington frequently invited visiting dignitaries, as well as his officers, to large dinners served at headquarters every day at three o’clock in the afternoon. On July 5, 1776, Dr. James Clitherall of Charleston, South Carolina, noted, “We dined with [Washington] in company with Gen Wadsworth and Mercer, Col. Read, adjutant general of the army, Major ——, and the gentlemen of his household [Washington’s aides-de-camp].” Clitherall observed that “the General seemed a little unbent at his table, was very affable and requested our company to King’s Bridge the next morning.”82 Washington sometimes discussed strategy with attending officers, including on June 28, 1781, when he invited Colonel Alexander Scammel for dinner the next evening to discuss “an accurate state of the Troops under [Scammel’s] command, and also of Major Porter’s Detachment.”83 Should Scammel not be able to attend dinner, Washington requested his presence at headquarters at his earliest convenience.
Around seven thirty each night, Washington gathered again with his aides for a light supper, usually consisting of leftovers from the afternoon meal. On November 24, 1780, the Marquis de Chastellux described a supper “composed of three or four light dishes, some fruit, and above all, a great abundance of nuts, which were as well received in the evening as at dinner.” Chastellux reluctantly joined the dining party, for he feared his presence would interfere with army business. Washington implored Chastellux to join his aides, and the visitor greatly enjoyed the evening, “for there were then no strangers, and nobody remained but the General’s ‘family.’ ”84 These informal gatherings were much more personal than the dinners served in the afternoon. Washington rarely invited additional guests, and the small group allowed for relaxed conversation about family and home. Washington’s aides served as some of his closest advisors and helped execute his orders, so this private time included conversations about the administration of the army.85
The social life at camp demonstrated Washington’s emotional intelligence. He encouraged socialization to build relationships between officers and foster trust between himself and his subordinates. He recognized the value of social bonds between his officers and the affection the troops felt for him, and he understood that these ties would sustain the army during difficult months and under tension in battle. Washington also grasped that deep-rooted relationships would help officers overcome disagreements with each other and accept his orders even when they disagreed with the decision. Such ties were critical to his command and administration of the army.
As president, Washington used many of the same strategies to create a similar social environment with his department secretaries.
The Continental and Confederation Congresses underwent several rounds of unsuccessful reform before the challenges of war prompted the initial development of the executive departments. In 1775 and 1776, many states adopted radical constitutions that severely limited executive power in favor of unicameral legislatures. These constitutions were a direct response to the British monarchy, in which the king was sovereign and parliament served as a mere expression of his sovereignty. In the unicameral legislatures of the new American states, the people were sovereign. After the initial burst of enthusiasm for independence waned, many representatives at the state and national levels lamented that the unicameral legislatures were woefully inefficient. By 1780, many leaders supported a gradual move to restore limited executive authority at both the state and federal levels. The evolution of executive departments in the national government followed this pattern—Congress initially abolished permanent departments and created temporary committees staffed by its members. The heavy turnover of congressmen convinced Congress to establish standing committees to manage foreign affairs and different components of the war effort. Governing by committee proved too inefficient, however, and Congress finally concentrated authority in single individuals under congressional supervision. Washington observed Congress’s struggles to manage the war effort, encouraged this concentration of political power, and lamented that reform did not create even stronger central authority.
On September 6, 1774, the Continental Congress gathered for the first time, with Washington in attendance. Right away, Congress created temporary committees to manage correspondence between the colonies and to coordinate the boycott of imported British goods.86 Early the next year, Congress dispersed executive power into standing committees to oversee the war effort, conduct diplomacy, manage interstate relationships, and draft legislation. These committees quickly spiraled out of control, with Congress creating dozens and dozens of committees, including committees to reform other committees.87
Although the Continental Congress managed the interstate collaboration in the early years of the Revolution, it did not have any governing authority from the states. To rectify this problem, Congress adopted the Articles of Confederation as its new governing charter in late 1777. Unfortunately, almost immediately the committee system under the new Confederation Congress bungled the herculean tasks of waging war, supplying an army, and coordinating thirteen new states.88 By nature, committees required group participation and agreement, which produced a slow and conflicted decision-making process. Congress also suffered high rates of turnover, which sapped the body of institutional knowledge. Combined with a steep learning curve for new members, many crucial details slipped through the cracks during transitions. Furthermore, Congress rarely granted committees enough authority to acquire supplies from unwilling merchants or collect money from states that hoarded their meager funds to pay their own militias. As a result, the committees struggled to raise money, purchase supplies and ammunition, and get them to the army in a timely fashion. Food rotted, clothing languished in warehouses, and gunpowder spoiled. War required decisive leadership that could quickly enforce decisions. The committee system in Congress utterly failed at that task and left Washington to pick up the pieces.
As the war effort progressed, the inefficient system took a human toll. Continental Army officers, including Washington, blamed the system’s inefficiency for the lack of pay, supplies, and clothing for the suffering army. On December 23, 1777, Washington explained that the want of provisions threatened to destroy the army over the winter. Washington concluded that the current system for supplying the army was failing: “The present commissaries are by no means equal to the execution of the office.”89
In June 1776, the Continental Congress had created the Board of War, a standing committee, to oversee the administration and supply efforts for the Continental Army. Congress intended for the Board of War to solve many of the supply issues by staffing it with former officers and experienced congressmen. When the army still struggled to obtain the necessary supplies more than a year later, Washington suggested that the Board of War send members to his headquarters to discuss how to secure better aid.90 On January 28, 1778, the committee gathered a few miles from Valley Forge. Washington and John Laurens, one of Washington’s favorite subordinate officers and son of Henry Laurens, the president of Congress, attended the meeting. Washington shared a memorandum outlining proposed reforms for army organization and logistics and supply. The committee observed the perilously low food supplies, the cold and damp housing conditions, the poor health of the soldiers, and the tattered uniforms and shoes of the infantry. Witnessing the suffering of the army firsthand shocked the committee, and the delegates promised Washington they would pursue his recommended reforms.91 A few years later, the army was still barely surviving, and the committee system continued to shoulder most of the blame. On May 23, 1780, General Greene, one of Washington’s most talented officers, suggested that Washington “ask the decided opinion of the Committee (of War) in writing whether they think their powers are competent to the business expected of them.”92
After years of Washington’s encouragement and subtle nagging, Congress finally started committee reform that very same month. James Duane proposed a new committee to report on the department of foreign affairs. A few months later, Robert Livingston proposed a committee of five to create a plan for new civil executive departments to be led by a single secretary for maximum efficiency.93 Joseph Jones, a Virginia delegate to the Continental Congress, wrote to James Madison to reflect on the urgency of reforming the committee structure and selecting department heads:
I was also of a Committee: to arrange or reform the civil departments of Congress and it was in contemplation to place at the head of the Foreign affairs the Admiralty and Treasury some respectable persons to conduct the Business and be responsible. Has any thing been done in these matters[?] [T]hey are important and should not be forgotten. We shall never have these great departments well managed untill something of this kind is done.94
The delegates recognized that the current committee system undermined the war effort, but they waited until December 15, seven months later, to review the report. In early 1781, Congress established the foreign affairs secretary position and placed the War, Marine, and Treasury Departments under the control of individual secretaries as well. Individual secretaries, instead of committees, would allow for decisive action and prevent committee delays. Yet the delegates delayed the reform effort once again. Beset by factional bickering over candidates, Congress took an additional eight months to fill these positions. Robert Morris, the candidate for superintendent of finance, also delayed the process by demanding complete control over his subordinates. After negotiating for a few months, Congress finally yielded to Morris’s demands, and he assumed office on May 14, 1781.95 That fall, Congress filled the final vacancy by appointing General Benjamin Lincoln as the secretary of the Department of War—a year and a half after commencing the committee reform process.96
As commander in chief of the Continental Army, Washington witnessed firsthand this slow crawl toward departments led by individual secretaries. Washington regularly corresponded with the president of Congress, various committees, and the Board of War once it was established in June 1776. He also hosted delegates at headquarters to facilitate communication between the army and Congress.97 On November 20, 1780, Washington lamented to John Sullivan, one of his generals, that the unorganized committee system increased the army’s expenditures unnecessarily: “The want of system in the execution of business and a proper timing of things, that our public expenditures are inconceivably greater than they ought to be.” Washington believed the obvious solution was to place more power in the hands of individuals to streamline the decision-making process, noting “the evident necessity of committing more of the executive business to small boards, or responsible characters than is practiced at present.”98 When Congress adopted this reform, Washington naturally supported the concentration of power in individual secretaries as long as it promised to improve the supply and oversight of his army and the war effort.99
When Congress created the department secretary positions under the Articles of Confederation in 1781, it did not instruct the secretaries to gather for group meetings. As secretary of the Finance Department, Morris wielded the most power of all the secretaries and controlled the lion’s share of financial resources doled out by Congress. But he still faced an uphill battle, as many congressmen distrusted both him and his office. He believed that the departments would be run more efficiently and could overcome Congress’s intransigence if the secretaries coordinated their efforts, so he took it upon himself to organize meetings with the other secretaries: Secretary of War Benjamin Lincoln, Secretary of Foreign Affairs Robert Livingston, and Secretary of Congress Charles Thomson.
On November 26, 1781, Washington arrived in Philadelphia. He stayed with Robert Morris for a week before acquiring housing for the winter.100 Morris seized the opportunity to work closely with Washington and ensure that the departments responded directly to the army’s needs. A week later, Morris invited Washington, Gouverneur Morris (Robert Morris’s secretary, but no relation), and the other department secretaries to meet in his office for the first time. Morris proposed that they “should meet every Monday Evening for the purpose of Communication to each other whatever may be necessary and for Consulting and Concerting Measures to promote the Service and Public Good.”101 Over the next several months, Washington gathered in Morris’s office with the other secretaries almost every week until he left the city in March 1782. In these meetings, they discussed “various public measures necessary to be adopted” pertaining to the end of the war. For example, in February, the secretaries discussed the upcoming negotiations with British commissioners on the exchange of prisoners and the past treatment of captured soldiers.102
Washington never revealed exactly what he thought about these meetings or about his interactions with Morris and the other secretaries, but he probably found them to be a helpful way to exchange information and coordinate efforts among the different departments. Washington considered Gouverneur and Robert Morris to be good friends, and Benjamin Lincoln had served as a loyal and trusted officer under Washington’s command.103 Washington also seemed to find the meetings useful. On December 15, 1781, Washington wrote to Nathanael Greene and described the gatherings: “I am detained [in Philadelphia] by Congress to assist in the arrangements for the next year—and I shall not fail, in conjunction with the Financier, Minister of Foreign affairs and secretary at War, who are all most heartily well disposed, to impress upon Congress … the necessity of the most vigorous exertions.”104 This collaborative experience, though it only lasted for a few months, likely confirmed in Washington’s mind the value of collective meetings.
Congress recognized that the individually led departments increased efficiency and continued the department system after the war. In 1787, delegates met once again to craft a new governing document, this time at the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia. At the Convention, the delegates accepted the department model for the new national government. They devoted relatively little time to discussing the future departments, concluding that they would resemble those under the Confederation Congress.105 On August 20, 1787, Charles Cotesworth Pinckney of South Carolina proposed five executive departments: domestic affairs, commerce and finance, foreign affairs, war, and marine, each headed by a single secretary appointed by the president.106 The new Federal Congress, which gathered for the first time in 1789 under the new United States Constitution, finalized this process during its inaugural session. On May 20, Madison proposed three executive departments: Foreign Affairs, Treasury, and War, each headed by a secretary nominated by the president and approved by the Senate.107 In the fall, Congress completed the process when it created the final department, the Department of the Treasury.108
The Revolutionary War transformed the lives of most Americans, but Washington experienced this change on a grand scale. In 1774, he attended the First Continental Congress as a well-known, wealthy plantation owner from Virginia. In 1783, he was the most famous American in the world, with unparalleled military and leadership experience. In between, he campaigned for more centralized power in the executive departments to effectively manage the war effort, he developed strategies to command and administer the Continental Army, he refined council-of-war practices to provide crucial advice and support, and he developed relationships with his aides and officers that lasted long beyond the war. These experiences, and his conclusions about leadership and power, provided the perfect model to guide Washington’s actions once in office. He fostered a social environment that replicated his official family, created the cabinet based on councils of war, and pursued the concentration of federal authority in the executive branch. For Washington, serving as commander in chief of the Continental Army was the perfect training ground to be the first president of the United States.