3
Setting the Stage
WHILE WASHINGTON LED the Continental Army and the future secretaries served in the army and state offices, the new nation grappled with what it meant to be independent. On July 2, 1776, the United States declared its separation from Great Britain, but it did not achieve full independence until September 1783, when the Treaty of Paris officially ended the war and Britain recognized the United States as a sovereign nation. Even then, true sovereignty required recognition from other European powers and loyalty from American citizens.1 In the final years of the war and the first years of nationhood, Americans struggled to define a common culture, identity, and purpose. How would they interact with other nations? How would they comport themselves as citizens? How much power would the state and federal governments have over the American people? Most important, how would their nation differ from the empire they had just left? These questions and Americans’ struggle to create a new society reflected their ongoing efforts to grapple with their Anglo-American political heritage. Their beliefs about power, government, and virtue shaped every aspect of the new society and government.
In 1787, the efforts to answer these questions about the future of the nation led to the Federal Constitutional Convention. The convention displayed the Americans’ ongoing distrust of the British government, especially the British cabinet, and the delegates’ anxieties that their republic would devolve into a similar monarchy. The American preoccupation with the British cabinet influenced the articles of the Constitution that created the executive branch, including the provisions that provided advisors for the president. These fears also played a pivotal role in the state ratification conventions. Delegates at those conventions wanted to provide the president enough support, but they feared the British cabinet even more.
Washington had a front-row seat to this process. He served as a delegate to the Continental Congress before taking up his role as commander in chief of the Continental Army. He observed the new nation’s attempts to define a political and social culture separate from its Anglo-American heritage, and he participated in the Constitutional Convention. This experience offered him a unique understanding of the new government and the delegates’ efforts to keep their distance from the British monarchy. After the convention, he carefully followed the ratification debates to understand how American citizens received the Constitution and their expectations for the first generation of public officials. For Washington, the outcome of the decades-long struggle to achieve independence and create a new nation had personal ramifications. He did not want his years of sacrifice to go to waste, and he knew he might be called to serve once again.
The 1780s created an atmosphere and social culture that produced the Constitutional Convention, the new federal government, and eventually, the cabinet.
In the 150 years before the American Revolution, the British monarchy underwent significant transformations that altered the colonists’ relationship with Britain. The sixteenth-century Tudor monarchs based their authority on divine right—the concept that kings received their authority from God to govern a specific body of people. As a result, their judgment and behavior were unimpeachable. Parliament did, however, offer an occasional check on the monarch’s absolute authority through its control of the purse strings. If the king’s personal finances could not cover the government’s expenses, he would convene a session of Parliament to approve new tax measures. When in session, Parliament could deny his tax requests, but its effect on the king’s authority was limited. In the seventeenth century, British kings attempted to continue this model, but profligate spending, religious conflict, and expensive wars drove a wedge between the monarchy and the British people. The monarchy reached a low point in January 1649 when Oliver Cromwell’s New Model Army put on trial, convicted, and executed Charles I for treason. After a period of civil war and military rule, Charles II was restored to the monarchy in 1660. In 1685, the English quickly grew dissatisfied again, especially when James II, a Catholic, ascended the throne. James II packed the highest offices with Catholic supporters and threatened to repeal the penal laws, alienating a predominately Protestant populace. When the queen gave birth to a male heir, Catholic rule seemed inevitable for the next generation. Unwilling to accept a Catholic king, Protestant leaders set events in motion when they invited William, Prince of Orange, and his wife, Mary (James II’s daughter), to sail from the Netherlands to England and seize the throne. When James II fled rather than face the Dutch forces, supporters of William and Mary named the bloodless coup the Glorious Revolution.2
In return for the British throne, William and Mary agreed to a bill of rights that prevented future monarchs from practicing Catholicism, limited the powers of the monarch, and defined Parliament’s rights. Most important, the document required regular sessions of Parliament, free elections, and freedom of speech in Parliament. The king could not suspend or create laws or levy taxes without Parliament’s consent. Furthermore, the king could not prosecute subjects for petitioning the monarch.3
The new power arrangement between Parliament and the king operated under the principle of shared powers. The branches of government did not divide power as the future US government would, but instead shared authority to achieve balance between the executive and legislative power. The monarchy functioned as a head of state but did not hold most of the ruling power. That role fell to Parliament, made up of the House of Commons and the House of Lords. Members of the House of Commons were elected, and members of the House of Lords were appointed by the king or inherited their seats along with land and titles. The House of Lords served as a check on the whims of the populace, while the House of Commons represented the people. When members were elected to the House of Commons, the party with the most members elected ministers to form a governmental body called the Privy Council.
In the mid-1600s, the Privy Council was a small group of ministers from Parliament gathered together to advise the king. As the size of the Privy Council grew over the second half of the seventeenth century, it became too unwieldy to govern, so a small group of ministers from the Privy Council formed a smaller, secret “cabinet council.” This subgroup derived its name from its meeting place: the small, private room—or “cabinet”—that belonged to the king. Eventually “council” was dropped and the king’s select advisors were known as the cabinet.
The king worked with both houses of Parliament to lead the nation and represent all subjects. Most Britons supported William Blackstone’s legal theory that the king could do no wrong. In his Commentaries, Blackstone argued that
the law therefore ascribes to the king … large powers and emoluments which form his prerogative and revenue [and] certain attributes of a great and transcendent nature; by which the people are led to consider him in the light of a superior being, and to pay him that awful respect, which may enable him with greater ease to carry on the business of government.4
Although Blackstone attributed great power and respect to the king, someone had to be responsible for the government’s policies, especially if they were unpopular. So under Blackstone’s widely accepted interpretation, the king’s ministers took ownership of the government’s policies, effectively absolving the king of all responsibility for wrongdoing.5
The Glorious Revolution also cemented the role of the cabinet at the center of the British government. After William and Mary came to power, the cabinet ran the government and effectively wielded most of the governing power, so long as it collectively could manage a majority in Parliament.6 Critics referred to the cabinet derogatorily as a “cabal” or “the conciliabulum.” Defined by neither statute nor custom, the cabinet evolved to meet the needs of administration as the kingdom became an empire with transoceanic responsibilities.7
The restoration of a Protestant monarchy and the codification of Parliament’s rights produced an outpouring of support and celebration for the British monarchy. Officials established annual holidays to celebrate the monarchy and its history, artisans produced an assortment of objects with royal images and symbols, and composers crafted masterpieces to celebrate the new British state. The description of the recent turnover in power as the Glorious Revolution embodied the new cult of monarchy in England, but even more so in the North American colonies.8 In the 1750s, Washington shared these sentiments: “We have the same Spirit to serve our Gracious King … and are as ready, and willing to sacrafice our lives for our Country’s good.”9
These changes produced very real ramifications for North American colonists. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, most of the colonies operated as royal colonies or under the supervision of private companies. As a result, the colonies carefully monitored the fortunes of the monarchy. Colonists resented the Catholic monarchs, who threatened to revoke the governing charters of the colonies, implement a more authoritarian regime, and force religious toleration for Catholics in the colonies in the 1660s. As a predominately Protestant population, the colonists banished religious dissenters, tried to enforce religious homogeneity, and enthusiastically applauded the Glorious Revolution’s restoration of a Protestant monarchy.10
The British government did not have the funds to oversee a large colonial project, and monarchs were loath to convene a session of Parliament to raise additional revenue. Instead, monarchs in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries focused primarily on stability in Britain and military conflicts in Europe, and largely ignored the colonies. With little attention from the mainland, the colonies flourished under what they called “salutary neglect.” They happily governed their domestic affairs through colonial legislatures and enthusiastically participated in the British Empire. They celebrated the Glorious Revolution and eagerly bought into the cult of monarchy that followed. They marched in processions, offered toasts to the monarchy, hosted bonfires with copious alcohol to mark anniversaries and royal birthdays, illuminated their homes, and partook in lengthy feasts—all designed to celebrate the monarchy and their connection to the empire.11
In addition to their ideological ties to the monarchy, colonists sought tangible material, economic, legal, and education connections with Britain. As part of the empire, they enjoyed access to silk, porcelain china, and tea from Asia, sold their commodities to the Caribbean and Europe, purchased slaves from British merchants, and bought fine goods produced in Britain. They sought the newest fashions and trends displayed in London to demonstrate their gentility and membership in the empire. Elites sent their children to Britain for the best education and conducted a vibrant correspondence with acquaintances across the globe. In 1774, when the Continental Congress met for the first time, more delegates had visited London than Philadelphia.12 Colonists considered themselves to be among the best British citizens—they were proud of their heritage and celebrated it.13
The Seven Years’ War marked the beginning of a new phase in the relationship between the colonies and England. From 1756 to 1763, Britain, its colonies, and its allies fought France, Spain, and their colonies. British won a decisive victory and acquired substantial new territory in the peace settlement. The new lands presented George III and his government with an unprecedented opportunity to reform the empire and assume greater oversight of colonial settlement. For the first time, the cabinet permanently stationed British troops in the colonies to protect their new acquisitions and prevent further conflict with the French and Native Americans. The cabinet also sought a number of reforms to bind the North American colonies more closely to the mother country and make them more productive for the British Empire. The government encouraged the settlement of new colonies in Canada and Florida, attempted to slow the pace of westward expansion, tried to mitigate conflict between white and Native communities by preserving the North American interior for Native peoples, and created new revenue streams to reduce the debt that the government had contracted to prosecute the war.14
Eager to reduce domestic taxes to avoid riots in England, the cabinet explored new ways to raise revenue. Starting in 1764, they enacted a series of bills designed to force the colonists to contribute more to the empire’s coffers. The Sugar Act in 1764, the Currency Act in 1764, the Stamp Act in 1765, and the Tea Act in 1773 all outraged the colonists.15 But it was the Coercive Acts, passed in the spring of 1774 in response to the Boston Tea Party, that unified colonial resistance. The Coercive Acts closed the port of Boston, restricted Massachusetts’s rights under its governing charter, allowed royal officials and soldiers to face trial in Britain instead of in the colonies, and permitted British military commanders to house troops in private homes.16 Many colonists felt that the Coercive Acts punished all Massachusetts residents for the actions of a few, and their ire fell on the ministers in the British cabinet. American newspaper writers asserted that the cabinet had created the punitive policies: “The late violent measures, and some others equally vindictive, which are now carrying on, were all concerted in a cabinet-council.”17 Another writer declared that in the “Cabinet … the voice of the people is only heard with contempt.”18
Many newspapers printed cartoons illustrating the colonists’ outrage. One example, “Mirror of Truth,” depicts angels holding up a mirror to the British ministers, forcing them to confess their many sins as demons drag them down into hell: “Your whole proceedings were contrary to Equity & Justice,” “Their duplicity as Ministers is beyond parallel,” and “Your crimes stink stronger than all the Taxes in England.”19
FIGURE 3.1 “The Political Mirror,” 1782. Courtesy of the Society of the Cincinnati
The colonies felt betrayed by their British brethren. During the war, they had contributed funds, food, uniforms, supplies, and troops to fight the French and their allies. They had served as partners and fought with distinction. They did not ask for a permanent army to protect their interests. In fact, they believed their militia had proven more than capable of defending their homes and families. Furthermore, they argued that they had already contributed to the war effort and should not be taxed further under the Stamp, Sugar, and Currency Acts.20
When Parliament passed these broadly despised bills, colonists initially blamed the cabinet instead of the king. The evolution of the Privy Council and the smaller cabinet had taken place behind closed doors, but most Britons and colonists understood that power dynamics were changing from the larger Privy Council to a few select advisors. They knew that a cabinet existed, and the term “cabinet” pervaded the political lexicon, but many colonists distrusted an institution that they couldn’t see or scrutinize. They could not tell who wielded power, who made crucial decisions, and whom they should hold responsible for policies they opposed.21
American colonists also noted several constitutional objections to the cabinet’s oversight of the colonies through parliamentary legislation. Colonists loudly proclaimed “no taxation without representation,” but the reality was a bit more complicated. In response to the first few bills, many colonists accepted Parliament’s right to pass legislation that governed the entire empire, at least in principle. They were not trying to implement widespread government reform. They took no issue with legislation such as the Navigation Acts, which restricted how the colonies could buy, sell, and transport goods, because those acts monitored interactions between the colonies and Britain. However, unlike the Navigation Acts, which affected the entire empire, many of the recent tax bills only targeted the North American colonies. Because they had no voice in Parliament, colonists challenged this legislation and insisted their own colonial legislatures were the more appropriate body to pass domestic fiscal legislation. Just a few years later, they took their argument one step further and insisted that their legislatures and Parliament were equals in a loose confederation under the king’s supervision.22
As the tensions between the colonies and Britain grew, many colonists sought assistance from the king. They believed that he supported their cause and would force his cabinet to rescind the offending legislation. When the king took no action, the colonists blamed the British cabinet for blocking their reconciliation with him. An unnamed gentleman in London reported to the Virginia Gazette that the king had welcomed a petition for peace from the Continental Congress, but that the ministers in the cabinet “are determined to persevere in the great system of American taxation.”23 In early 1775, Lieutenant John Barker, a British officer, made a similar observation while he served with his regiment in Boston. Barker noted in his diary that the Americans demonstrated their displeasure by raising their flag as the “King’s Troops” and referring to the British soldiers as “the Parliaments.”24
Later that year, the Continental Congress also pointed fingers at the British cabinet for instigating conflict. In July 1775, the Continental Congress worked to establish friendly diplomatic relations with Native American nations allied with Great Britain. In an address to the Haudenosaunee, also known as the Six Nations Iroquois confederation of Iroquoian-speaking peoples in Northern New York, Congress expressed its desire that it could preserve peace between Americans and the Native confederation. Congress also squarely placed blame for the tensions on the king’s cabinet: “The king’s ministers grew jealous of us … they sent armies to rob & kill us.”25 Washington shared similar thoughts with a friend, writing, “You must, undoubtedly, have received an Account of the engagement in the Massachusetts Bay between the Ministerial Troops (for we do not, nor cannot yet prevail upon ourselves to call them the King’s Troops) and the Provincials.”26
Americans’ anger toward the king’s cabinet was shaped by their understanding of the British government and the powers of each branch. While Americans expected that Parliament and the king’s cabinet would create and implement policy, the king was supposed to act as the father and protector of all British citizens, including the colonists. Americans argued that the king had abandoned his constitutional responsibility to restrain the cabinet when it advocated policies that would threaten the liberties of British citizens. On July 8, 1775, the Continental Congress sent a second petition to King George III, the “Olive Branch Petition,” outlining their understanding of the relationship between the king and his subjects. They wrote, “We therefore beseech your Majesty, that your royal authority and influence may be graciously interposed to procure us relief from our afflicting fears and jealousies … and to settle peace through every part of your dominions.”27 The petition pleaded with the king to intervene in the conflict between the colonies and Parliament, believing it was his duty to protect citizens on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. The Americans were not asking the king to assume unconstitutional powers or return to the absolute monarchy of the Stuart kings. Instead, they urged the king to revive his constitutional right to use the “royal negative,” essentially a veto, against legislation that unfairly targeted certain citizens.28
Not many delegates to the Continental Congress expected the Olive Branch Petition to change the king’s mind, but his response still struck most Americans as especially harsh. The king refused to receive the colonists’ petition while sitting on the throne, which would have legitimated American grievances. Instead, on October 27, 1775, the king recited to Parliament the Proclamation for Suppressing Rebellion and Sedition, which declared the colonies to be in a state of “open and avowed rebellion” and urged British officials to “to use their utmost endeavours to withstand and suppress such rebellion.”29 When the king made it clear that he sided with his ministers, Americans turned their rage against the monarch as well.30 John Adams was one of the first Americans to recognize that the king was no friend to the colonists’ pleas, writing: “The Sum total of all Intelligence from England is that the first Man is ‘unalterable determined, Let the Event and Consequences be what they will to compel the Colonies to absolute Obedience.’ Poor, deluded Man!”31 By mid-1776, Washington referred to George III as “Our Enemy the King of Great Britain.”32 Mr. Page, a preacher who remained loyal to the king during the Revolution, remarked on the spread of similar sentiment across the colonies, expressing that he was “grieved to hear the King so much vilified & abused in New Engld & America.”33
Washington carefully tracked Americans’ shifting sentiment toward the king. As commander in chief of the Continental Army, Washington interacted with Americans from all thirteen colonies. He received reports from state committees of safety (which governed the states when their legislatures were not in session), welcomed visitors to his army headquarters, and heard the concerns of citizens near the army’s camp sites.34 For example, on October 26, 1775, Washington hosted several luminaries at headquarters, including Benjamin Franklin; Samuel Cooper, a famed Congregational minister; Judith Cooper, his wife; James Bowdoin, president of the Massachusetts Provincial Congress; John Winthrop, a Harvard professor; and Hannah Winthrop, his wife.35 But Washington did not just interact with elites. In March 1776, enslaved poet Phillis Wheatley accepted Washington’s invitation to visit him at his Cambridge headquarters.36 Through these communications, Washington engaged Americans of every walk of life and learned their fears, hopes, and motivations—including their suspicions of the British government.
The Confederation period, from 1778 to 1789, was a turbulent, anxiety-ridden decade for the new American nation. The country grappled with the physical and psychological damage left in the wake of the Revolutionary War. Congress struggled to govern and address the conflicting needs of the thirteen states. The nation also had to define its purpose, goals, and culture on the international stage. Americans undertook a complete social regeneration. It was no longer sufficient to say they were “not British”; they needed to determine what it meant to be “American.” Many leading Americans recognized that they were experiencing a pivotal moment for the nation and its culture. Washington, before submitting his resignation as commander in chief to Congress, wrote to the states encouraging them to come together as one nation: “This is the time of their political probation: this is the moment when the eyes of the whole World are turned upon them—This is the moment to establish or ruin their National Character for ever.”37
In the 1780s, American culture prioritized republican virtue, which they defined as a dedication to public service, especially through self-sacrifice. A republican gentleman took care to improve his manners and education, but avoided appearing haughty. He dressed meticulously, but not lavishly. He commanded respect through his actions, not merely because of his fortune. In that atmosphere, a politician’s reputation served as his political and social currency and determined his election to government, alliances with other politicians, and promotion to higher office.38 Republican virtue inherently defined itself in opposition to the aristocracy and monarchy ingrained in the British government. The future of the Republic depended on maintaining a virtuous citizenry, specifically contrasted with the corruption Americans perceived in the British cabinet. It wasn’t enough for Americans to be virtuous; they needed to be more virtuous than the British.
The Confederation years were marked by intense anxiety that the United States would fail to meet this lofty goal. Perhaps government officials would pursue their own agendas and the new nation would splinter into rival factions. The economic situation certainly inspired little hope. The value of currencies issued by the states and Congress plummeted, and debts owed to both domestic and international creditors spiraled. The economy shrunk as American merchants found themselves shut out of ports previously available to them as citizens of the British Empire. Most European nations still operated under the protectionism of mercantilist legislation, which shut out foreign supplies and merchants in favor of those within their empires. Prior to the Revolution, southerners had sold most of their cotton to British factories; New Englanders had depended on the British to buy American lumber and ships for their navy, and fish caught by New England fishermen to feed enslaved workers in British Caribbean colonies; and the Middle Atlantic had sold most of its excess grain and liquor to British merchants. As an independent nation, the United States had to pay steep tariffs to access British markets—if the British navy permitted American ships to enter the port at all.39
Congress could do nothing to solve these economic issues. The Articles of Confederation gave Congress little power to raise revenue. The Articles envisioned a system in which Congress passed requisitions, essentially requests for money, and then each state decided for itself the best way to raise the desired funds. In reality, when Congress issued a requisition, the states debated whether to raise any money at all, instead of how best to meet the demand. Often the states simply ignored Congress’s requests. Without funds, Congress was helpless to pay its employees, pay its debts, or defend against military threats. In 1786, Congress’s impotence was on full display. Shays’ Rebellion forcibly closed courts to prevent the collection of unfair and burdensome taxes. When the states failed to raise funds to pay a federal militia force, Congress could only watch helplessly as Massachusetts merchants, elites, and government officials raised funds and hired a private army.40
Regional and sectional divisions compounded economic tensions. Some states threatened to break off from the Union to form regional blocs based on shared economic and cultural values. For example, states in western regions prioritized access to the Mississippi River and the port of New Orleans, as well as defense from Native American attacks. States in the Northeast blamed white settlers for instigating conflict with Native American nations and resented military expenditures accrued in defending aggressive settlement. They preferred trade agreements that would provide access to Atlantic fisheries and Caribbean ports, which meant nothing to western and southern states. Rather than contribute funds and resources to Congress to pursue national goals, states hoarded money and supplies for their own aims.41
Many elite Americans, well versed in the details of ancient governments, knew history was stacked against them. In December 1787, John Adams noted that a few republics had emerged in fifteenth-century Italy, but had all failed: “They were all alike ill-constituted: all alike miserable: and all ended in similar disgrace and despotism.”42 No other republic, especially one as geographically large and dispersed as the United States, had survived. Elite Americans, like Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton, and other officials in the first government, had even more to lose if the Republic failed. They were men of property and wealth. If the Republic crumbled and anarchy reigned, their estates, business, law practices, and trade networks would have suffered irreparable harm.43
The Articles of Confederation did not empower the Confederation Congress to solve these problems. Under the Articles, Congress could pass reforms only with unanimous approval by the thirteen states, which was nearly impossible to obtain. These circumstances combined to convince many American leaders that something needed to be done quickly to preserve the fledgling nation.
The first effort to secure reform fizzled before it even started. In September 1786, twelve delegates from five states, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Virginia, met in Annapolis, Maryland. They waited in vain for more delegates to arrive before concluding that another convention would be necessary. The delegates also quickly realized the trade issues between the states could not be solved without addressing the other economic and governing challenges facing the new nation. Hoping to build some momentum for reform, Alexander Hamilton and James Madison drafted a recommendation to convene another gathering in Philadelphia the following May.44 All twelve delegates unanimously approved the recommendation and submitted it to the Confederation Congress and the states. Congress sanctioned the recommendation and officially invited each state to appoint delegates to attend a convention the next summer. This gathering became the Federal Constitutional Convention.45
On December 4, 1786, the Virginia legislature passed a bill appointing delegates to the convention: George Washington, Edmund Randolph, James Madison, George Wythe, John Blair, and George Mason. It was a distinguished group, full of noted jurists, former governors, experienced legislators, and the one and only commander in chief of the Continental Army. In cahoots with Madison, Randolph included Washington’s name on the list without consulting him. Perhaps Madison and Randolph knew that Washington would be reluctant to participate: after eight years of military service, he was enjoying his retirement.
When Randolph announced the nomination, Washington turned him down. Washington had publicly returned his military commission and worried Americans might look unfavorably upon his return to service. Furthermore, he had rejected an invitation to attend a meeting of the Society of Cincinnati in Philadelphia the next summer. Attending the convention after declining the society’s company would surely offend his fellow officers.46 Lastly, Washington feared that the convention would fail. He was reluctant to risk his reputation and political clout on an endeavor that might not work. If the convention did not succeed, Washington and the other Federalists—those who supported a stronger federal government—knew it would be nearly impossible to organize another one. He confided to David Humphreys, his former aide and confidant, that “if this second attempt to convene the States … should also prove abortive it may be considered as an unequivocal proof that the States are not likely to agree in any general measure which is to pervade the Union, & consequently, that there is an end put to Fœderal Government.”47 He wanted to make sure that he preserved his political capital for the moment when the nation most needed it.48
Randolph, Madison, Knox, and Washington’s other correspondents understood his dilemma. But they also understood that the convention would not succeed without him. Randolph elected not to tell the legislature that Washington had refused his nomination and did not appoint anyone to replace him. Randolph knew that Washington’s name would lend credibility to the convention and force other states to take the venture seriously. Over the next few months, Randolph and Madison continued to send Washington letters imploring him to attend. Finally, in late April, he begrudgingly agreed to join them.49 He left Mount Vernon on May 8 and arrived in Philadelphia a few days later.
For the next few weeks, Washington, Madison, and the other members of the Virginia delegation anxiously awaited the arrival of the other states’ representatives and hoped all states would attend. They used this time to strategize, build coalitions, and craft proposals for the eventual start of the convention. On May 25, they breathed a sigh of relief when the New Jersey delegation arrived, and the convention reached a quorum.50 In July, the New Hampshire delegation arrived in Philadelphia, providing almost complete attendance.51
On May 25, fifty-five delegates to the Federal Constitutional Convention gathered in the assembly room on the first floor of Independence Hall. As they settled into their seats, they all acknowledged that the British government constantly factored into their deliberations. The British monarchy and their experience with it colored every proposal, comment, and discussion over the next several months. Many Americans fixated on certain features in the British system as problematic and likely to foster corruption. They objected to the king’s lack of responsibility over government policy. They balked at the ministers’ dual roles in Parliament and in the king’s council, which allowed the ministers to control the king and removed his power to check legislation.52 Finally, they criticized the commingling of powers between branches under the shared powers system because there was little oversight of, or transparency about, the decision-making process.
These concerns revealed a much larger question about the nature of executive power in a republic. How could the delegates create a single executive with enough power and influence to govern the nation without risking monarchy? How could they maintain their republican virtue and protect individual and states’ rights without risking anarchy or the overwhelming malaise of the Confederation? No nation in history had solved this conundrum without eventually succumbing to anarchy or authoritarianism.
The delegates created a presidency with many key provisions designed to address their concerns about the British monarchy. First, they inserted a rule in the Constitution to prevent a power-sharing system in the United States. Article I contains a clause that prevents a member of Congress from holding another position in the federal government, making it much more difficult for an influential congressman or a small group of powerful officials to exercise significant power in the executive branch.53 The rule protects Congress as well—it forbids the department secretaries from holding another position in the executive or legislative branch.
Next, the delegates decided that the executive branch should be run by one person, rather than a committee. The delegates believed that having one individual in charge of the entire branch would force the president to take ownership of the entire operation. The delegates also included regular elections to hold the president accountable and so that voters could replace him relatively easily.54 Elections ensured that the president would serve the people, but also implied that fault could be found with the executive. Britons could not vote the king out of office for bad policies, but Americans could replace the president if they disapproved of his actions in office. The delegates crafted the presidency to maximize responsibility and transparency in government. They created an executive that rejected the concept that the king could not be held liable for the actions of his government.55
As with all aspects of the presidency, the British cabinet played an important symbolic role in this discussion. The delegates acknowledged that they thought of the British example often during their deliberations, frequently citing the British cabinet as a model to avoid. James Wilson of Pennsylvania insisted that a council often “serves to cover, [rather] than prevent malpractices.”56 Benjamin Franklin similarly suggested that “the many bad Governors appointed in Great Britain for the Colonies” that had frustrated the colonies before the Revolutionary War had been appointed by a corrupt cabinet.57 Colonel George Mason, an early and ardent support of the Revolution, voiced concerns that the delegates were too preoccupied with the British government: “We all feel too strongly the remains of antient prejudices, and view things too much through a British Medium.”58
The delegates understood that the president would need assistance governing the nation, but they feared an organized, established council. Over the course of the debates, they considered three types of executive councils to provide advice and support for the president, and they ultimately rejected all three. The first option, a council of revision, would help the president review legislation and check the power of Congress. The Virginia Plan, written by James Madison and presented by Edmund Randolph on May 29, 1787, included a “council of revision” consisting of members of the executive and judicial branches. The president and the justices of the Supreme Court would sit together to examine and enforce legislation.
On the same day, Charles Cotesworth Pinckney proposed a second type of executive council. Pinckney’s plan authorized the president to create his own advisory council with the heads of the future departments.59 This council avoided the blurring of separation of powers between the branches that occurred in the proposed council of revision. Pinckney’s council would provide advice, so the president would not be left without advisors. The president would not be bound to follow their recommendations, however, so the council would not limit executive power.
For the next two months, the delegates debated potential provisions for the executive, judicial, and legislative branches using the Virginia Plan as their guide. After two months of discussion with relatively little progress, the delegates appointed a Committee of Detail to pull together a comprehensive draft constitution based on the few proposals that they had agreed to adopt. From July 26 to August 6, the Committee of Detail met and rejected both the council of revision from the Virginia Plan and the advisory council proposed by Pinckney. The committee members—which included Edmund Randolph—instead favored a strong, independent executive unencumbered by a council.60
The six members unequivocally rejected the notion of a council by omitting it from the draft constitution. It’s impossible to know exactly why the committee chose to reject the council of revision and Pinckney’s proposal, since none of the committee’s meeting notes survived, if any were taken. Their decision was most likely driven by fear that a council would limit the power of the president. The committee members were also influenced by the governments of several states, including the Council of State that had stymied Randolph during his tenure as governor. The Pennsylvania, North Carolina, and Maryland state constitutions all included similar councils. While on the Committee of Detail, Randolph helped reject a federal council of revision.
On August 6, the Committee of Detail reported to the entire convention, and the delegates debated each provision of the draft constitution. After viewing the draft, Pinckney introduced another proposal to insert an advisory council consisting of the president, the chief justice of the Supreme Court, the heads of the executive departments, and the president’s secretary. Pinckney knew that the Committee of Detail had rejected his earlier council proposal because they believed it would weaken the president, just as the British cabinet allegedly had corrupted the king. Yet Pinckney was not to be deterred and believed the issue deserved further consideration. To address their concerns about limitations on executive power, Pinckney reminded the other delegates that under his proposal, the president could request advice at his leisure and was not required to follow the council’s recommendations.
On August 31, the convention created the aptly named Committee of Postponed Matters, also known as the Committee of Eleven, to address the remaining issues. This committee included representatives from each state present at the convention except New York: Nicholas Gilman from New Hampshire, Rufus King from Massachusetts, Roger Sherman from Connecticut, David Brearly from New Jersey, Gouverneur Morris from Pennsylvania, John Dickinson from Delaware, Daniel Carroll from Maryland, James Madison from Virginia, Hugh Williamson from North Carolina, Pierce Butler from South Carolina, and Abraham Baldwin from Georgia. One of the issues on the agenda of the Committee of Postponed Matters was Pinckney’s proposed council to advise the president. This committee reconsidered Pinckney’s council and again rejected it. While no notes survive from the committee’s deliberations, when the committee presented its recommendations to the full convention on September 3, its report included no mention of a council.61
On September 7, George Mason introduced a third and final option for an executive council. He asserted that an executive without a council challenged historical precedents for good government: “In rejecting a Council to the President [the delegates] were about to try an experiment on which the most despotic Governments had never ventured.” He offered an amendment that would create an executive council of six members chosen by the Senate: two from the eastern states, two from the middle states, and two from the southern states. This council would provide advice for the president and assist in appointing federal officials. Opposing Mason’s proposal, Gouverneur Morris argued that such a council would provide cover for a weak president or would obscure responsibility for controversial decisions. Morris didn’t have to work hard to remind his fellow delegates of their recent Revolutionary War experience: they had all read Blackstone and witnessed what they viewed as British ministers corrupting King George III. A council seemed like a recipe for ministerial corruption. After considering the arguments, the delegates rejected Mason’s proposal by a vote of eight states against three.62 After rejecting all three proposed councils, the delegates considered no further proposals for an advisory council. The decision was made: the Constitution would neither include nor authorize such an executive body.
Instead of the councils proposed by Madison, Pinckney, and Mason, the delegates inserted two options in the final version of the Constitution that would enable the president to obtain advice. First, Article II, Section 2 grants the president the right to “require the Opinion, in writing, of the principal Officer in each of the executive Departments, upon any Subject relating to the Duties of their respective Offices.”63 This clause was drafted carefully to limit the power of the president’s advisors and the manner in which he interacted with them. In February 1788, James Iredell, a respected jurist from North Carolina and one of the original Supreme Court justices, published several influential pamphlets in the Norfolk and Portsmouth Journal analyzing the Constitution. He emphasized the importance of the word “written” in Article II, Section 2. By only permitting the president to request written advice, Iredell argued that the delegates intentionally rejected a cabinet: “The president is not to be assisted by a Council, summoned to a jovial dinner perhaps, and giving their opinions according to the nod of the President—but the opinion is to be given with the utmost solemnity, in writing.”64 According to Iredell, the delegates attempted to prevent the department secretaries from forming a cabal around the executive. In addition, by limiting advice to written opinions, the delegates tried to ensure that communications between the president and his advisors would be transparent. A written paper trail created hard physical evidence of each secretary’s advice and who advocated which position.
Written opinions also placed physical distance between the president and the secretaries and emphasized that the president was responsible for making all decisions. Written opinions submitted to the president inherently conveyed subordination and highlighted the president’s final say on all issues. Article II, Section 2 further required the secretaries to limit their advice to issues pertaining to their departments. The delegates hoped to prevent secretaries from shaping policy outside their areas of expertise.
The delegates also offered a second option for the president to seek additional support on foreign affairs. As Article II, Section 2 provided:
He shall have Power, by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, to make Treaties, provided two thirds of the Senators present concur; and he shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States.65
Twenty-first-century audiences interpret this clause as a grant of power to the Senate to confirm presidential appointments and ratify treaties. The clause certainly did assign those duties to the Senate, but it had a secondary meaning as well. The delegates meant for the president to request the Senate’s advice on treaties and other matters of foreign affairs. They expected the Senate to serve as a council on foreign affairs.66
When Washington departed Philadelphia in September 1787, he left knowing that the delegates had considered and affirmatively rejected a cabinet. As president of the Constitutional Convention, Washington attended every session. During the debates, he either sat on a raised dais at the front of the room or with the Virginia delegation. He heard Gouverneur Morris argue that a cabinet would obscure responsibility in the executive branch, he saw the delegates vote against Pinckney’s proposed council, and he saw them reject the council of revision in the Virginia Plan. He also reviewed the drafts produced by the Committee of Detail and the Committee of Postponed Matters, and he heard them explain why they rejected an executive council. Washington knew that the delegates rejected an executive council in favor of written advice and the Senate.
Washington also maintained close working relationships with many of the most influential members of the Convention. After the end of the workday, he attended the theater, ate meals and drank tea with his friends, visited former army officers, and listened to music with elite families in Philadelphia. The other delegates joined Washington at these events. During the first week of June, he dined “with a large company” at the homes of George Clymer, Benjamin Franklin, and Robert Morris—all Pennsylvania representatives to the convention. The next week he “Dined with a Club of Convention Members” at the Indian Queen, a lodging house for many of the convention delegates.67 These social gatherings provided an opportunity for the delegates to discuss their positions on articles of the Constitution, negotiate compromises, and curry favor for proposals in a more private, informal setting. Washington used these events to gauge the expectations of his fellow delegates. If the states ratified the Constitution, Washington knew he would be elected the first president. He needed to know what would be expected of him.
On September 17, 1787, the delegates submitted the proposed constitution to the Confederation Congress for review. On September 28, the Confederation Congress delivered the document to the states and instructed the state legislatures to convene their own ratification conventions. By endorsing a new constitution and submitting it to the states, Congress approved the plan to dismantle the existing government and build a new one. Essentially, it admitted its inability to reform itself or govern the nation. Over the next few years, each state convened a ratification convention to debate the proposed constitution. On June 21, 1788, the new United States federal government officially existed after New Hampshire became the ninth state to ratify the Constitution.68
The debates in the state ratification conventions reveal how Americans received the Constitution, their expectations for the new government, and how the delegates anticipated the Constitution would address citizens’ concerns. Many delegates in the state debates noted the Constitution’s silence on an executive council. A small minority of state delegates argued in favor of including an advisory council specifically outlined in the Constitution. Back in Virginia, Mason resumed his efforts to include an executive council in the Virginia ratification convention. Before the start of the convention, Mason wrote and published his “Objections to This Constitution of Government.” Mason protested the lack of an executive council and cited the precedent of councils in all “safe” governments. Although Mason published his “Objections” to sway votes in the Virginia convention, both Federalists (supporters of the Constitution) and Anti-Federalists (opponents of the Constitution) hoped to influence the outcomes in other states. Anti-Federalists in other states republished Mason’s pamphlet broadly.
Many of the Anti-Federalists worried about what would happen without an established executive council. In the Pennsylvania ratification convention, Anti-Federalists objected to the Senate’s role as a council on foreign affairs. They worried the Senate would usurp executive powers or would be forced to remain in town even when Congress was not in session, to provide advice to the president. Year-round service would be onerous for senators, and citizens would be forced to bear the tax burden of supporting government officials for the entire year. After the majority of Pennsylvania delegates voted in favor of ratification, those opposed to it drafted a document titled “Dissent of the Minority.” The official dissent included a proposal to create “a constitutional council … to advise and assist the president, who shall be responsible for the advice they give, hereby the senators would be relieved from almost constant attendance; and also, that the judges be made completely independent.”69
On the other side of the debate, many delegates feared a council and rejoiced in the fact that the Constitution did not authorize one. They believed a council would corrupt the executive or become a den of cronies and favorites—just as they believed the British cabinet had corrupted the king. In a series of published letters, a writer using the pseudonym “Federal Farmer” emphasized the potential for corruption in an executive council. The author of the “Federal Farmer” letters remains a secret, but the most likely candidate is Richard Henry Lee from Virginia.70
Opponents of a council, including the “Federal Farmer,” viewed the Senate as a more effective and less risky source of advice for the president. The Senate would be a safer advisory body because of its constitutional limitations. First, the Constitution ensures government transparency by permitting the Senate to advise and consent only on matters of foreign affairs. Second, the Senate would be accountable to the people through regular elections. Unlike an appointed council, senators could be removed from office if they served as inept or pernicious advisors. On December 19, “Americanus,” whose identity remains unknown, published a letter in the Virginia Independent Chronicle defending the constitutional role of the Senate because of the accountability of senators to the state legislatures: “There are thirteen collateral checks, whose united powers, like an overbearing torrent, could not be resisted—I mean the legislatures of the thirteen states. For, as the senate is elected by the legislature of each state, it must be confessed, that each member is responsible to that body, which respectively elect him.”71
The state debates over a council continued to reflect a widespread preoccupation with the British cabinet. In his “Objections to This Constitution of Government,” Mason had referenced the presence of executive councils in other “safe governments,” particularly Britain. Iredell published “Marcus II” to refute Mason’s claims. Iredell rejected Mason’s claim that the British government was safe because it had a council. Iredell described the British council system and demonstrated why each of the various councils and cabinets had no place in the new US government. He argued that the Privy Council best resembled the sort of constitutional council favored by Mason, but it would not limit executive power as Mason hoped: “It is a mere creature of the crown, dependent on its will both for number and duration,” and nothing would exist to prevent the president from being “governed by ‘minions and favorites.’ ”72 In Federalist 70, Alexander Hamilton played on Americans’ long-standing suspicion of corrupt councils. He argued that a strong council would result in a plural executive, which “tends to conceal faults and destroy responsibility.”73
The debates in the state ratification conventions demonstrated that many delegates still worried that the Constitution did not provide enough advisors for the president. Despite these concerns, all of the states ratified the Constitution without proposing an amendment to establish an advisory council. The dissenting minority in Pennsylvania was the only one that requested a provision to create a new council. Although the delegates worried about providing appropriate advisors for the president, the fear of the British cabinet proved to be a stronger motivator when crafting the executive branch.
From his perch atop Mount Vernon, Washington anxiously followed the reports leaking out of the state ratification debates. He requested reports from his closest correspondents all over the country, including Benjamin Lincoln, a former Continental Army officer, in Massachusetts: “I feel myself much obliged by your promise to inform me of whatever transpires in your Convention worthy of attention, and assure you that it will be gratefully received.”74 He believed the future of the new nation depended on the proposed federal government, and for him, waiting for news was excruciating. Plus, his personal fortunes were deeply entwined with those of the new government. He had staked his unblemished personal reputation on the success of the Constitutional Convention, and he feared that he would suffer great embarrassment if the state ratification conventions rejected the proposed government. And, as has been previously noted, Washington knew he would be called upon to serve as the nation’s first president should the states accept the Constitution. For Washington, there was much riding on the reports that arrived over the next ten months.75
Washington went to great lengths to stay abreast of public opinion, the developments in the state conventions, and the likelihood of ratification. He subscribed to at least seven newspapers: Wyntrop’s Journal, the Philadelphia Gazette, the Pennsylvania Packet, the Gazette of the United States, Dunlap & Claypoole, Oswald’s Bill, and the Virginia Journal. He also collected volumes of eleven magazines from across the country that included publications of the debates in the state ratification conventions of Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and Virginia.76 Washington relied on word-of-mouth news as well. When guests arrived at Mount Vernon, he quizzed them on the progress of ratification in their home states.77 Lastly, he carried on an extensive correspondence with friends and colleagues across the country and repeatedly requested updates on the status of the Constitution in their private letters. Washington’s contacts frequently forwarded him articles of interest or copied key passages into their correspondence.78 When their letters did not arrive promptly, Washington sent his enslaved manservant William Lee down to Alexandria to fetch the mail.79
Washington preferred not to publicly defend the Constitution himself. He swore not to comment on the Constitution in public, but he made no such promises about pulling strings behind the scenes. Shortly after the conclusion of the Constitutional Convention, Washington sent a copy of the Constitution to three former governors of Virginia. Acknowledging that the document contained some flaws, Washington nonetheless expressed his belief that the new government was better than nothing: “It is the best that could be obtained at this time.… If nothing had been agreed to by [the convention] anarchy would soon have ensued.”80 He also passed along speeches and articles to newspaper editors and requested their publication. For example, on October 6, 1787, James Wilson delivered a speech in favor of the Constitution at a public meeting in Philadelphia. Washington read the speech when it was published in the General Advertiser and approved of Wilson’s interpretation. On October 17, 1787, he sent the speech to David Stuart, a friend and newspaper editor, and asked him to republish it so that it would reach a broader audience: “As the enclosed Advertiser contains a speech of Mr Wilson’s (as able, candid, & honest a member as any in Convention) which will place the most of Colo. Mason’s objections in their true point of light … [t]he republication (if you can get it done) will be of service at this juncture.”81 Over the next several months, Washington sent Stuart additional materials for republication, including “An American Citizen,” a broadside written by Tench Coxe and originally published in Philadelphia.82 While he made no public statement about the Constitution, Washington hoped that these articles would turn the tide in favor of ratification.
Washington also distributed copies of the Federalist essays that he received from James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and John Jay. They all trumpeted the need for “a Government to perpetuate, protect and dignify” the union of the states. Washington thanked the authors for their efforts on behalf of their Constitution: “I am indebted to you … for the Pamphlet you were so obliging as to send me. The good sense, forceable observations, temper and moderation with which it is written cannot fail … of making a serious impression even upon the antifœderal mind.”83 Washington gave out so many copies of the Federalist essays that on May 15, 1788, he had to ask John Jay to send him additional copies: “Could you, conveniently, furnish me with another of these pamphlets I would thank you, having sent the last to a friend of mine.”84
Washington went to such great lengths to acquire and disseminate news in part because he cared deeply about the outcome of the ratification conventions. But he also needed to know what the American people were saying about the government and the presidency. He needed to know what they expected of him as he prepared to enter office.
On Saturday, June 28, Washington received news that the Constitution had been officially ratified, and he attended a dinner in Alexandria to celebrate. He shared his fellow citizens’ “exhilaration,” “zest,” and conviction that “Providence seems still disposed to favour the members of [the new nation].”85
After the states ratified the Constitution, the lame-duck Confederation Congress passed a law requiring each state to choose its electors by January 1789. The law also stipulated that the electors would vote in February and the new government would convene in March. On April 6, 1789, Congress held a joint session and counted the votes for president and vice president.86 On April 14, Washington received the official communication that he had been elected the first president of the United States.87 The results were not a surprise—he had been preparing for months.88
On April 16, 1789, George Washington left Mount Vernon to begin his trek to New York City, the seat of the new federal government. Along the way, citizens fêted and celebrated Washington and his service to the nation. Towns along the route hosted balls, drank countless toasts, and decorated bridges to welcome the new president. On the morning of April 23, Washington arrived at Elizabeth Town Point, New Jersey, where he boarded an elaborately decorated barge to carry him across New York Harbor. Thirteen “Masters of Vessels,” outfitted in white uniforms and black caps, manned the oars. Six other barges loaded with congressmen and dignitaries accompanied him. Once they reached the harbor, private vessels flooded the harbor to greet Washington. Crowds filled the banks of the river and cheered at the firing of a thirteen-gun salute. After Washington reached the shore, a military escort led him to a public levee. Fireworks and cannons capped off the night’s festivities.89
Washington brought to the presidency a unique perspective of the challenges of the previous decade, the nascent American political culture, and the public’s expectations of the new federal government. The combination of Washington’s war service, his extensive travels across several states during the war, his interactions with thousands of colonists, and the symbolic leadership he provided to the American cause gave Washington a deep sense of nationalism and American’s shared commitment to republican virtue. As part of this American identity, Washington understood and embraced a distrust for all things British, especially the cabinet. As president of the Constitutional Convention, he had gained an invaluable understanding of the intended workings of the federal government. He had listened to delegates share their concerns about the British cabinet and had witnessed the delegates reject proposals for advisory councils. Washington also noted that the delegates intended for the Senate to serve as a council on foreign affairs and that the department secretaries would provide written opinions on matters in their departments. He entered the presidency intending to utilize these two options, and no others.