George Washington’s Sacred Fire was written to answer the objections of scholars who claim that George Washington was not a Christian. We have already considered several arguments utilized to support the claim of Washington’s Deism. In this chapter, we will consider four other important objections to Washington’s Christianity. These are:
• Washington’s ownership of slaves;
• the question of Washington’s morality, or what we might call the question of Washington “slanders,” versus the Washington “scandals”;
• Washington’s passionate temper; and
• Washington’s alleged role in the Treaty of Tripoli.
Before we begin to consider these, let’s engage the classic objector to Washington’s Christianity—Washington historian Rupert Hughes,2 a skeptical historian who wrote a generation before Professor Boller.
RUPERT HUGHES: THE PARSON WEEMS IN REVERSE OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY
In 1926, only six years before the bicentennial of Washington’s birth in 1932, Rupert Hughes wrote a substantive biography of Washington. His work, in many ways, began the reassessment of Washington’s religion that led to the wholesale acceptance of the thesis that Washington was a Deist. The vast majority of the scholars who had written on Washington up to that time had accepted the view that Washington was a Christian. To put it mildly, Rupert Hughes, and others in his perspective, have successfully persuaded subsequent scholars, including Paul Boller, Jr. and Joseph Ellis.
The arguments that Hughes put forward are worthy of a brief response at this point in our study, because we discover that each of his claims were made with dogmatic self-assurance and are clearly incorrect, based upon our analysis of Washington’s words and actions. We are reminded of an historian’s adage—“The living can make the dead do any tricks they find necessary.” The only way to guard against the scholarly slight of hand of historical revisionism is for serious historians to do the painstaking work of going to the original sources to verify their claims.
As we have sought to do that here, our conclusion is that Rupert Hughes can be considered the “Parson Weems in reverse” of the twentieth century Washington scholars. His unsubstantiated assertions, his uncritical acceptance of others’ unsubstantiated remarks (such as Dr. Moncure Conway’s) have simply been uncritically accepted and then quoted so often that everyone “knows” they are true. But Hughes’ claims have about as much support as Parson Weems had for his cherry tree story. However, Weems even had an advantage over Hughes; he knew Washington and at least claimed to have actually investigated the matter from living witnesses.
We don’t fault Hughes for not investigating his topic from living sources. That’s more than any historian can do 150 years after the fact. But we do fault Hughes for his dogmatic claims that were not based on serious investigation. Hughes’ assertions of Washington’s Deism were based solely on a biased, unsubstantiated perception. And sadly, an untested acquiescence to Rupert Hughes’ errant claims set the scholarly tone which allowed Boller to write what became a “definitive” argument for Washington the Deist.
To corroborate our criticisms of Hughes, we will cite several of his claims and respond to them briefly with the evidence we have uncovered in our investigation of Washington’s religion.
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “Aside from such an instance [the childhood Christmas poem] and one reference to “the Divine author of our blessed religion” in 1783, there is no direct allusion to Christ, and the word Christ has been found in none of Washington’s almost countless autographs.” We have already seen that Hughes is incorrect about this, since Washington did write the name of Jesus Christ literally and indirectly through honorific titles on several occasions. We discussed this at length in earlier chapters.
Washington also used various titles for Deity that are biblical titles for Christ. Further, his Trinitarian heritage included the Deity of Christ whenever he spoke of God. Washington was an avowed Trinitarian in his Anglican context. Jefferson, as a Unitarian, could not serve in a Christian context, as he himself said, because of his anti-Trinitarian views. Washington, whose conscience was of the strictest sort, had no scruple to serve in church and in worship in distinctive and open Christian roles.
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “His refusal to take communion was admitted by his own clergyman, William White, Bishop of the Episcopal Church in America from 1787 to 1836. Colonel Mercer had written to ask if General Washington ‘occasionally went to the communion,’ or ‘if he ever did at all.’ Bishop White answered: ‘Truth requires me to say that General Washington never received the communion in the church of which I am parochial minister....’” We have seen in the three chapters on Washington and Communion how his experience in Philadelphia does not imply a Deist Washington, nor did it depict his whole life. The inference drawn from it is built not only on faulty logic, but incomplete facts. Evidence as strong as Washington’s non-communing in Philadelphia is available to show that he communed in Virginia, New York, and New Jersey. The only acceptable explanation is one that addresses all the facts. We have put Washington’s communing practices into the historical milieu in which they occurred.
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “Jefferson said that Washington was a Deist.” We have also seen that Jefferson was not an intimate of Washington, and those who were closest to Washington simply disagree with Jefferson, whom Washington described as an opponent of his government after he resigned in protest from Washington’s cabinet.
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “This [ Jefferson’s assertion that Washington was a Deist] would seem to be the truth. In his time the deist was a term of fierce reproach, almost worse than atheist, though a deist believed in an all-wise deity who cared for the world and provided a future reward for the good. This deity was not, however, the Israelitic Jehovah and was not the father of Christ, who was considered a wise and virtuous man, but not of divine origin.” Strange, that if Washington was a Deist, that he refused to correspond with Thomas Paine after Paine wrote the Age of Reason, and even though Washington had a large and well representative library, the Age of Reason was not found on his shelf, although several volumes in criticism of Deism and of Paine were. And if Washington’s Deity was not the “Israelitic Jehovah,” then why did he write to the Hebrew congregation in Savannah, and describe the God he trusted in that had delivered America in the revolution as the “same wonder-working deity” that the Jewish scriptures presented, and which Washington named, “Jehovah”? Is it possible that Rupert Hughes was wrong about Washington’s use of the name Jehovah, just as he was about Washington’s use of the name “Jesus Christ”? It appears so. But even though Hughes obviously had not done his scholarly due diligence on this topic, like many other scholars, that did not stop him from making definitive—albeit spurious—pronouncements on the subject. And if the term “Deist” brought fierce reproach, why did Paine get the brunt of all of that fierce reproach——so much so that a graveyard could scarcely be found where he could be buried when he died——but Washington was beloved beyond words? Was it that Washington simply pretended to be a Christian, as he called himself on several occasions, simply to hide the fact that he was really a Deist? Then what are we to make of all of his constant claims of candor, honesty, character, and truthfulness?
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “Such was probably Washington’s opinion on the subject, though there is little evidence either way. In spite of his incessant allusions to providence, Washington was persistently silent as to his dogmatic beliefs.” While Rupert Hughes here hedges his bets by saying “probably” and supports it with the claim that there is little evidence either way, the fact is that there is a vast amount of evidence, and Hughes, believing that there was none, never bothered to look for it. The religious themes and issues in Washington’s writings are full enough so that in this work we have been able to establish his Christian worldview, his perspective on the Gospel, his vast biblical literacy, his approval of many evangelical and anti-Deist sermons and writings, and his support for Christian missionary activities, as well as clear critical comments against Deism, to name but a few of our discoveries.
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “The fanatically abused ‘atheist,’ Jefferson, was far more religious than Washington, and intensely interested in Jesus, whom he revered this side of divinity. ... The greatly reviled Thomas Paine believed in God as a loving father, though he denounced the Bible as not His word.” While Jefferson could not call Jesus God, Washington did call Jesus Christ “The Divine Author of our Blessed Religion,” “The Divine Author of Life and Felicity”; “The Great Lord and Ruler of Nations.” If Jefferson was far more religious than Washington, why did Jefferson refuse to be a sponsor in baptism and fail to actively serve as a vestryman, although elected? Washington, on the other hand, on eight occasions accepted the responsibility to sponsor a child in Christian baptism, and his service on the vestry and as warden for several years was exemplary and costly in terms of time, stress, and resources. Why did Washington repeatedly use the words “ardent,” “fervent,” “devout,” and “pious,” to describe his prayers, of which there are over one hundred in his own hand? If Paine did not believe the Bible to be God’s Word, Washington did, calling it in his own written words, “The blessed religion revealed in the word of God.” In so doing, Washington not only disagreed with Paine, he definitively distanced himself from Deism.
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “The Reverend Doctor Moncure D. Conway makes a statement that is impressive in view of the emphasis unjustifiably laid on the imaginary doctrine that Washington was brought up in an atmosphere of intense religion: ‘In his many letters to his adopted nephew and young relatives, he admonishes them about their morals, but in no case have I been able to discover any suggestion that they should read the Bible, keep the Sabbath, go to church, or any warning against Infidelity.’” Actually, the facts are quite different than this, if we listen to the records given by these very same children who write of his Christianity, his sabbath keeping, his reading of the Bible to the family, his passionate prayer for the healing for his dying step-daughter, and his concern for religion and reverence in public and private life. Reverend Conway’s scholarship apparently never got around to a careful reading of Washington’s letters to his adopted grandson, where scripture is quoted and spiritual duties are addressed—duties to “God and man,” as he wrote to young George Washington Parke Custis—nor to the testimonies of Washington’s stepchildren.
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “Washington had in his library the writings of Paine, Priestly, Voltaire, Frederick the Great, and other heretical works.” True enough, but Washington had books that critiqued Deism in his library as well. As can be seen in the chapter on “Washington’s Clergy and Sermons,” he wrote letters to clergymen who had written sermons against Deism, and commended them. He said that their teachings were both pleasing to him and sound in doctrine. Thomas Paine’s the Age of Reason was not in Washington’s library, nor was Paine, after writing The Age of Reason, any longer on Washington’s correspondence list.
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “Dr. Conway, speaking of Washington’s Diaries, notes ‘his pretty regular attendance at church but never any remark on the sermons.’” While it is true that remarks on sermons were scarce in Washington’s diaries, Dr. Conway is incorrect that Washington “never” makes any remark on sermons. But then, what he said about sermons in his diaries is more than what he wrote in his diaries about the discussions of the Constitutional Convention. However, Dr. Conway failed to observe, as has every writer on the Deist perspective of Washington since, that Washington’s vast correspondence included extensive writings with clergymen. In fact, Washington commented on several published sermons from these authors in his letters. If Dr. Conway or Rupert Hughes (or Professor Boller for that matter) had read these letters and these sermons, they would have found that Washington’s comments show again and again that he was a Christian and not a Deist. We thought this matter so important, we have devoted an entire chapter to it. (Please, see chapter 33 entitled “George Washington’s Clergy and Their Sermons”).
• Rupert Hughes claimed: “If Washington were, indeed, so fervent a Christian as to deserve the name of ‘a soldier of the cross,’ often given to him by the clergy, it is puzzling that there should be such difficulty in finding a number of fervent proofs of his ardor.” We wish to reply to Rupert Hughes that we have had no difficulty in finding a “number of fervent proofs of his ardor.” The problem for us is to relate all the data that pertains to Washington’s “sacred fire” to our readers in the limited pages we have been allotted. Washington’s words about his own religion and spirituality are a vast and remarkably overlooked field of study. We do not intend to call Washington a “soldier of the Cross,” even though it would not be inappropriate to call him a “Christian Soldier,” since that was his own phrase for his army, and he did call on his men to attain the “highest glory of the character of a Christian.” But perhaps it would not be inappropriate for us to say here that the “fervent prayers,” the “ardent prayers,” and the “pious entreaties” that Washington described in his writings may well have fanned the “sacred fire” that ignited his love for liberty and put a spiritual dynamic into his motto—“My God and My Country.”
Since the objections by Rupert Hughes are without substance, we will proceed to address other arguments that skeptics have brought against the truth of Washington’s own claim that he was a Christian, as seen, for example, in his words from a private letter “on my honor and the faith of a Christian.”
HOW COULD A TRUE CHRISTIAN OWN SLAVES?
Indeed, another objection to the thesis of George Washington the Christian is that he owned slaves. Yes, that is the sad truth. If there is any good news in this sad fact, Washington freed his slaves upon his death, something Thomas Jefferson never did. Of the nine slave-owning presidents, Washington was the only one who freed them all, albeit at his death.
Meanwhile, the transformation of Washington, as he moved from being an indifferent slave owner to being a principled slave owner, one who would purchase no more slaves and one who would not break up slave families, to finally becoming an emancipator of slaves in his last will and testament, is a fascinating story. Early on, for example, in the Fairfax Resolves of 1774, George Washington and George Mason solemnly judged the slave trade: “After the first day of November next we will neither ourselves import nor purchase any slave or slaves imported by any other person, either from Africa, the West Indies, or any other place.” The Fairfax Resolves were early and strong declarations against slavery. But the British authorities kept these resolves from being implemented. (This was long before William Wilberforce and his evangelical comrades led their long, successful crusade to end the slave trade and slavery in the British Empire.)
This objection to Washington as a Christian that he owned slaves— obviously cannot be applied uniquely to Washington. The judgment here is against the entire practice of all slave owners, whether in the North or the South. (Indeed, in the colonial era, slavery was tolerated by all of the colonies from New York south.) To understand Washington’s complicity in this evil trading in human lives, we must recognize his historical context, and then see how Washington’s life began to change as he grew to understand the incongruity of his own quest for freedom, all the while that he owned slaves. Clearly, slavery was a moral wrong. It was, to put it in Christian terms, a sin against God and a sin against one’s neighbor. Nevertheless, Washington’s process of repentance from the wrong of slave-holding to the right of emancipating his slaves was also a remarkable sign of what Christian theology has termed repentance.
George Washington grew up in a Virginia where, tragically, slaves had been part of the culture for generations. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. used to point out that slaves came to the New World a year before the Pilgrim fathers and mothers did. As we saw earlier, a European ship selling slaves came into Jamestown, Virginia in 1619, one year before the voyage of the Mayflower.
But the very change in attitude toward slavery in Washington’s life actually is an argument for his Christian identity. This is because he was willing to face a wrong in his life and in his culture and to begin the long hard struggle to make things right. Note the following progression in the attitude of the father of our country toward this terrible injustice that was there 150 years before he ever held a high position of leadership:
• When Washington grew up, he already owned slaves as a child of a Virginia family with a large plantation. We find that early in his life, he actually sold some slaves to buy things like lemons and various products from the Caribbean. They were, for a time in his life, chattel property.3
• As he became a young adult and began to be a person who cared about what was true and right, he began to write, “I will never again separate a family by selling my slaves.” In other words, he realized that they had a right to a family home, and he would not break up families.4
• Later on in his life, he began to say, “Slavery is wrong, and we must do something to end it.”5 But the system was so deeply imbedded in his Virginian plantation culture that he could not entirely break free from the sad practices of slavery6—that is, until his death and his liberating will took force.
• By the end of his life, Washington determined in his will that he would free all the slaves that belonged to him and actually provided for them financially. He also freed one of his closest friends, Billy Lee, a slave that was his body servant. Remembering him by name, Washington gave him a bequest that enabled him to live the rest of his life very comfortably.
So what we see in Washington is what Christianity calls forth from all who follow Christ: a growth in what is right, the beginning to change until, finally, right actions become normative. It took Washington a lifetime. It took America a different generation and a bloody war to get it right, but Washington was one of the leaders that called for the ending of slavery in America.
If we remember that future generations often can see the flaws of the past far more clearly than those who were living in the midst of the struggles, we can understand that Washington’s conduct, although slow and over a lifetime, was significant progress for a slave-holding Southern plantation owner. He understood the evils of slavery without the need of a war to point it out to him. Slavery was one of Washington’s sins, or moral failures, but the standard for being a Christian is not perfection, it is honestly dealing with one’s sin and failures in light of God’s life-changing grace. It appears that is exactly what Washington did, and so, even Washington’s sin of slavery and how he dealt with it, is an argument for his Christian identity.
WASHINGTON SLANDERS OR WASHINGTON SCANDALS?
A great deal of discussion has occurred on Washington’s possible scandals. It appears, however, that when all of the evidence is in, the alleged moral failures turn out to be slanders rather than scandals. The most thorough debunking of the allegations of Washington’s promiscuity was by John Fitzpatrick in his article, “The George Washington Slanders.”7 The essence of his research is that not only is there no evidence to support the claim of promiscuity or of an illegitimate Washington child, there is direct, hard evidence that these accusations were part of the spurious letters that were circulating in Washington’s lifetime to discredit him as a leader in order to make it easier to undermine his leadership in the revolution. In other words, the slanders were part of a British propaganda smear campaign that failed. These accusations can be dismissed with confidence as being unfounded and thereby disproved.
Not so easily answered, however, is the question of Washington’s alleged lifelong love for Sally Fairfax, who was married to his older friend, George William Fairfax.8 So next, we will consider Washington’s relationship with Sally Fairfax.
WASHINGTON’S RELATIONSHIP WITH SALLY FAIRFAX
The evidence with regard to Washington’s relationship with Sally Cary Fairfax and his letters to her are more compelling and must be considered with some care.9 On September 12, 1758, unmarried, but engaged Col. Washington wrote to Mrs. George William Fairfax from his lonely post in the wilderness of Pennsylvania in the midst of the French and Indian War,
‘Tis true, I profess myself a votary of love. I acknowledge that a lady is in the case, and further I confess that this lady is known to you... I feel the force of her amiable beauties in the recollection of a thousand tender passages that I could wish to obliterate, till I am bid to revive them. But experience, alas! Sadly reminds me how impossible this is, and evinces an opinion which I have long entertained, that there is a Destiny which has the control of our actions, not to be resisted by the strongest efforts of Human Nature.
You have drawn me, dear Madame, or rather I have drawn myself, into an honest confession of a simple Fact. Misconstrue not my meaning; doubt it not, nor expose it. The world has no business to know the object of my love, declared in this manner to you, when I want to conceal it . . . Adieu to this till happier times, if I ever shall see them. The hours at present are melancholy dull . . . I dare believe you are as happy as you say. I wish I was happy also.10
Some have tried to explain this letter away by claiming this and similar letters are counterfeit, but scholars have satisfactorily shown them to be genuine.11
Mrs. George William Fairfax was eighteen and a newlywed when she met George as a sixteen-year-old at Belvoir, the Fairfax estate. From letters that have survived, it is clear that they became lifelong friends.
Sally’s letters to George have not survived, but George’s intriguing letters to Sally in 1758 have aroused great interest and have been interpreted in several ways. What makes the letters alluring is that they were written to Sally Cary Fairfax, George William Fairfax’s wife, by the lonely, unmarried Col. Washington, who was now engaged to Martha Custis, soon to be Mrs. Martha Washington. (While it is startling to realize that Washington was engaged and writing such letters, the facts are that Washington had met his fiancée Martha only twice, while his friendship with Sally Fairfax had developed over many years). The range of interpretations include: (1) a cryptic expression of a past love affair, 12 (2) a deeply emotional attachment that was morally contained due to their (or Sally’s) commitment to honor, (3) a warm, personal relationship that continued as a lifelong friendship between the Washingtons and the Fairfaxes,13 to (4) a role-playing exercise based upon George’s and Sally’s love of the theater and courtly romance.14 As we begin our assessment, we wish to make clear that we accept the authenticity of the letter and its timing of an engaged Washington writing to a married friend’s wife, who was also Washington’s friend.
ADULTERY?
First of all, passion was not foreign to Washington’s experience, even though he was always known as a man under the greatest personal control. His passing comments in various letters give us a hint of his understanding of human nature and its passions.
• To John Banister, April 21, 1778, “We must take the passions of men as nature has given them, and those principles as a guide, which are generally the rule of action.”16
• To John Jay, August 1, 1786, “We must take human nature as we find it. Perfection falls not to the share of mortals.”17
• In a humorous letter referring to poetry, Washington wrote to Mrs. Richard Stockton, September 2, 1783, “When once the woman has tempted us, and we have tasted the forbidden fruit, there is no such thing as checking our appetites, whatever the consequences may be.”18
Did George Washington commit adultery? We know that Martha Washington burned their letters after George’s death. Critical authors have read much into such a burning. Could it be, they speculate, that she was covering up an alleged affair between the father of our country and some wife of the Revolution? Tongue-in-cheek author, Marvin Kitman, makes fun of this bonfire incident:
No one has ever explained the motive behind this wild letter-burning episode. Martha Washington knew at the time—indeed, the whole world knew—that George Washington was a superstar in the field of history, and that every scrap of his writing would be treasured and printed. Did she feel, as Woodward [W. E. Woodward, George Washington: The Image and the Man, 1926] suggests, that his letters to her were so sacred in their intimacy that posterity had no right to read them?
....Perhaps Lady Washington did not want to cast her husband’s pearls before us swine.
“Privacy,” explains historian Richard B. Bernstein. “There. You have your explanation.”
....Martha was not as dumb as historians make her seem. She knew something was going on between those two [George Washington and Kit Greene, wife of Nathanael].19
With all of his teasing, Kitman never declares Washington committed adultery. Instead, he notes: “I have read a thousand history books, and there is not a single case of an unnatural act—that is, [Washington] sleeping with somebody, not even Molly Pitcher.”20
Washington-biographer James Thomas Flexner describes George Washington and Sally Fairfax this way:
Washington’s existence at Mount Vernon was being troubled and made fascinating by the woman to whom he wrote, when he was old and celebrated, that none of the subsequent events of his career ‘nor all of them together have been able to eradicate from my mind those happy moments, the happiest of my life, which I have enjoyed in your company.’ What surely was the most passionate love of Washington’s life had dark overtones: Sally was married, married to his neighbor and close friend George William Fairfax. Washington’s love was no flash fire that burns away quickly. He had first met Sally when she was eighteen and he was sixteen, and she had come to Belvoir as a bride. Her two years’ seniority must then have created a significant gap, but the sixteen-year-old grew into the impressive giant whose physical and military adventures electrified all Virginia. The exact nature of their relationship cannot be defined. Washington was to write Sally that he recollected “a thousand tender passages”; and a mutual female friend admonished Washington, just before his defeat at Fort Necessity, to seek “some unknown she that may recompense you for all your trials” and make him abandon “pleasing reflections on the hours past.” Whatever transpired did not break Washington’s friendship with Sally’s husband; the suitor remained welcome at Belvoir.21
We believe there is no evidence of an adulterous affair between George Washington and Sally Fairfax. The charge is baseless. But, may we suggest that Washington may well have wrestled with romantic feelings for Sally in his youthful years? In his teen years, Washington admitted his struggle with his romantic feelings—what he called his “chaste and troublesome passion.”21 He did his best to keep his passions under control.
Speaking of yet another young lady he had known as a teenager whose name has been lost to history, he wrote the following.
...but as that’s only adding Fuel to fire, it makes me the more uneasy. For by often and unavoidably being in Company with her revives my former Passion for your Low Land Beauty. Whereas was I to live more retired from young Women I might in some measure eliviate my sorrows by burying that chast and troublesome Passion in the grave of oblivion or etarnall forgetfulness. For as I am very well assured that’s the only antidote or remedy that I ever shall be releivd by, or only recess than can administer any cure or help to me. As I am well convinced was I ever to attempt any thing I should only get a denial, which would be only adding grief to uneasiness.23
The same kind of “chaste and troublesome Passion” seems to have been the case here with Sally as well, since careful research points to no evidence of an incident of unfaithfulness on their part. Perhaps the best way to describe the situation is that in a moment of weakness, facing loneliness and possible death, Washington allowed himself to write words of romantic force to a close friend for whom he had felt romantic emotions.
His fiancée, Martha Custis, was the perfect wife, but he had only met her twice. On the second meeting he proposed and she accepted. But then Washington had to return to war. In that distant place, a young adult and unmarried Washington apparently let his “troublesome Passion” become less than emotionally “chaste.” But the true point of the story is that they both conquered the passion. It must have been at least, in part, mutual, for Sally kept the letter all her life, and it was only found years later after her death in England, and then brought to America. But Sally, George, and their spouses became close friends as couples after the French and Indian War. They lived joyfully as neighbors until the Revolutionary War became imminent and the Fairfaxes left for England, never to return again to America. Who then was Sally Fairfax to George Washington? She was a youthful flame that Washington contained. Washington certainly must have been intentionally, although clandestinely autobiographical, as he wrote to his adopted granddaughter, Nelly Custis,
Love is said to be an involuntary passion, and it is, therefore, contended that it cannot be resisted. This is true in part only, for like all things else, when nourished and supplied plentifully with ailment [i.e., that which troubles, or, Washington’s “troublesome Passion”], it is rapid in its progress; but let these be withdrawn and it may be stifled in its birth or much stinted in its growth. For example, a woman (the same may be said of the other sex) all beautiful and accomplished, will, while her hand and heart are undisposed of, turn the heads and set the circle in which she moves on fire. Let her marry, and what is the consequence? The madness ceases and all is quiet again. Why? not because there is any diminution in the charms of the lady, but because there is an end of hope. Hence it follows, that love may and therefore ought to be under the guidance of reason, for although we cannot avoid first impressions, we may assuredly place them under guard.24
Did not Washington say as much in his letter to Sally?
I feel the force of her amiable beauties in the recollection of a thousand tender passages that I could wish to obliterate, till I am bid to revive them. But experience, alas! sadly reminds me how impossible this is, and evinces an opinion which I have long entertained, that there is a Destiny which has the control of our actions, not to be resisted by the strongest efforts of Human Nature.25
Francis Rufus Bellamy has put it this way,
Added to these social and religious considerations was the friendship already existing between George Washington and George William, Sally’s husband and Lawrence’s brother-in-law. Under no circumstances could a man of honor coldly contemplate stealing the wife of his friend and next-door neighbor. Nor if he could, would an intelligent woman permit him. What then was left for two people in such a situation? Surely only inner denial and outward friendship. That something like this was what happened to Washington in his youth seems clear; and that it was not easy goes without saying. For he was in his tumultuous twenties at the time, and he was not born with control over his feelings; he achieved mastery by conscious effort.26
As we assess this youthful episode in Washington’s life, we see what is again, the authentic struggle of a Christian life. A Christian is not perfect. A Christian will struggle with temptations and desires that are wrong. But in the midst of the duty to do what is right, the temptation can be conquered, and the sin can be forgiven. And as a result, relationships can be maintained. The lifelong friendship and relationship that was marked by honor between the Fairfaxes and the Washingtons is a testimony to the Christian faith that both families practiced.
As we’ve already seen, even secular Washington historian James Thomas Flexner had to admit: “Whatever transpired did not break Washington’s friendship with Sally’s husband; [Washington]... remained welcome at Belvoir.”27
WASHINGTON AND ANGER–A MAN OF PASSION UNDER CONTROL
Just as Washington learned to control his romantic passions, so Washington also learned to control his temper. He was known for occasional flashes of great anger. For example, he was so angry at General Charles Lee’s retreat at the Battle of Monmouth that Washington determined to have him court martialed.
Washington was a man who knew the power of passion and had learned to exercise a spiritual control over his powerful emotions. Washington’s comments on human passion are not only instructive, but they are reflective of his own spiritual struggles:
• To Gouverneur Morris, May 29, 1778, “We may lament that things are not consonant with our wishes, but cannot change the nature of Men, and yet those who are distressed by the folly and perverseness of it, cannot help complaining.”28
• To Lafayette, September 1, 1778, “It is the nature of man to be displeased with everything that disappoints a favorite hope or flattering project; and it is the folly of too many of them to condemn without investigating circumstances.”29
• To a Committee of Congress, January 28, 1778, “A small knowledge of human nature will convince us, that, with far the greatest part of mankind, interest is the governing principle; and that, almost, every man, is more or less under its influence.”30
• To John Banister, April 21, 1778, “We must take the passions of men as nature has given them, and those principles as a guide, which are generally the rule of action.”31
• To John Laurens, July 10, 1782, “It is not the public, but the private interest, which influences the generality of mankind, nor can the Americans any longer boast an exception.”32
• To John Jay, August 1, 1786, “We must take human nature as we find it. Perfection falls not to the share of mortals.”33
• To John Marshall, December 4, 1797, “Unfortunately the nature of man is such, that the experience of others is not attended to as it ought to be. We must feel, ourselves, before we can think or perceive the danger that threatens.”34
• To John Jay, May 18, 1786, “Ignorance and design are difficult to combat. Out of these proceed illiberal sentiments, improper jealousies, and a train of evils which oftentimes in republican governments must be sorely felt before they can be renewed.”35
As we have already seen in the chapter on George Washington’s personality, he had a powerful, passionate temper that he faithfully sought to keep under control. Francis Rufus Bellamy shares a fascinating anecdote from the Washington family in this regard:
Incidentally, the painter’s [Gilbert Stuart’s] daughter, Jane Stuart, also supplies a sidelight on Washington’s reputation as the possessor of a fiery disposition even then. Talking one day to General Harry Lee, her father happened to remark that Washington had a tremendous temper but held it under wonderful control. Light Horse Harry reported the remark to George and Martha at breakfast a few days later. “I saw your portrait the other day, a capital likeness,” said Lee, “but Stuart says you have a tremendous temper.” “Upon my word,” said Mrs. Washington, coloring, “Mr. Stuart takes a great deal on himself, to make such a remark” “But stay, my dear lady,” said General Lee, ‘He added that the President had it under wonderful control.’ With something like a smile, General Washington remarked, “He’s right.”36
Such growth in self-control is a mark of spiritual maturity, a goal of the Christian life.37
THE TREATY OF TRIPOLI
The last matter that we will consider here is Washington’s alleged involvement in the treaty that the United States established with Tripoli. The Treaty of Tripoli came about because Muslim ships dispatched from the Barbary coast of Africa were attacking American vessels and turning the captors into slaves. This treaty put on paper an agreement to stop this terrible practice.
The relevance of the wording of the Treaty of Tripoli for our discussion is how its text related to Washington’s religion, as well as how it reflects our founders’ view of the relationship of Christianity and the American Constitution. For example, does it matter for our interpretation of the religion clauses of the First Amendment, whether or not Washington said to the Muslims in Tripoli, “These United States are not in any sense founded on the Christian religion.”38
We believe that it does matter if Washington said this. If we are to understand the original intent of the Constitution that the founders wrote, we must understand Washington, who presided over the Constitutional Convention.
Did Washington write, “America is in no way founded upon the Christian religion” in the Treaty with Tripoli? Scholars on both sides of the debate regarding Washington’s Deism—even Boller, who rejects Washington’s Christianity—have concurred that this is a myth,39 although not everyone has gotten the word.40 Thus, frequently and unfortunately, it is still stated as though it were a fact.
In fact, there is ambiguity surrounding the authenticity of this phrase in the treaty itself that was signed by President John Adams. Charles I. Bevans states in Treaties and Other International Agreements of the United Sates of America,
This translation from the Arabic by Joel Barlow, Consul General at Algiers, has been printed in all official and unofficial treaty collections since it first appeared in 1797 in the Session Laws of the Fifth Congress, first session. In a “Note Regarding the Barlow Translation” Hunter Miller stated: “. . .Most extraordinary (and wholly unexplained) is the fact that Article 11 of the Barlow translation, with its famous phrase, ‘the government of the United States of America is not in any sense founded on the Christian Religion.’ does not exist at all. There is no Article 11. The Arabic text which is between Articles 10 and 12 is in form a letter, crude and flamboyant and withal quite unimportant, from the Dey [Governor] of Algiers to the Pasha [ruler] of Tripoli. How that script came to be written and to be regarded as in the Barlow translation, as Article 11 of the treaty as there written, is a mystery and seemingly must remain so. Nothing in the diplomatic correspondence of the time throws any light whatever on the point.”41
Is it possible that Joel Barlow’s explorations of atheism may have induced him to interpolate this phrase into the treaty?42 At any rate, Washington never wrote nor signed the disputed words of the Treaty of Tripoli. In stark contrast to this dubious statement from the Treaty of Tripoli, Washington wrote on September 19, 1796, “Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, Religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labour to subvert these great Pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of Men and citizens. The mere Politician, equally with the pious man ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity.”
CONCLUSION
What the objections of this chapter demonstrate is that Washington was not a perfect man. In Christian terms, he was a man who sinned. But the definition of a Christian is not perfection, and being a sinner does not make a man a Deist. If that were the case, then every Christian would be a Deist, since Christianity affirms the universality of sin.
Perhaps a more appropriate definition of a Christian is a person who practices faithful and faith-filled repentance. Washington’s repentance of slavery at the end of his life, his repentant control over the misplaced passions of temptation, and his self-control over his explosive anger are each indicative of a spiritual life. While Washington never wrote, “America is in no way founded upon the Christian religion” in the Treaty with Tripoli, it is clear to us that the Christian religion is what Washington’s spiritual growth was founded upon.