Washington: A Life

In early June, as Washington visited his “aged and infirm mother” in Fredericksburg, national attention turned to the Virginia Ratifying Convention.24 Though he was ailing and felt “extremely feeble,” James Madison delivered astounding oratory on behalf of the new charter.25 Washington’s nephew Bushrod, awed by Madison’s talents, reported to Mount Vernon that Madison had spoken “with such force of reasoning and a display of such irresistible truths that opposition seemed to have quitted the field.”26 In a pivotal shift, Governor Randolph capitulated and teamed up with the federalists from fear that Virginia would be ostracized if it didn’t ratify. This argument gained additional currency when New Hampshire became the ninth state to ratify and ended all suspense about the Constitution’s future. Still unaware of what had happened in New England, Virginia four days later approved the Constitution by a ten-vote margin. In late July New York became the eleventh state to sign on, leaving only Rhode Island and North Carolina beyond the pale of union. Not until June 28 did Washington receive news of the Virginia and New Hampshire victories. He must have known that these tidings would carry in their wake an insistent plea for him to become the first president. In backing the new charter, Washington had waged an enormous high-stakes campaign, and his prestige soared even higher with its enactment. “Be assured [Washington’s] influence carried this government,” declared James Monroe.27

The town of Alexandria blazed with lights in celebration of the Constitution as the news ricocheted up and down the Potomac by precisely timed discharges of ca

With the Constitution having squeaked by in Virginia, George Washington owed an incalculable debt to Madison for making his presidency possible. Some Virginia foes of the new charter reacted graciously in defeat. By shifting ground, Edmund Randolph had redeemed his political future, later telling Washington that “the constitution would never have been adopted, but from a knowledge that you had once sanctified it and an expectation that you would execute it.”29 Quite different was the obstinacy of George Mason, which provoked a caustic aside from Washington: “Pride on the one hand and want of manly candor on the other will not, I am certain, let him acknowledge an error in his opinions . . . though conviction should flash on his mind as strongly as a ray of light.”30 What bothered Washington was less Mason’s opposition than his bullheaded rigidity. Of Mason’s followers, he said, “They are in the habit of thinking that everything he says and does is right and (if capable) they will not judge for themselves.”31 As later became clear, George Washington refused to appoint anyone to the new government who had been overtly hostile to the Constitution that brought it into being.

Once the Constitution was adopted, Washington could not evade the question of whether he would serve as president. He stood in a league of his own, his stature inimitable. Like other founders, he regarded any open interest in power as unbecoming to a gentleman. As a result, he preferred to be drawn reluctantly from private life by the irresistible summons of public service. He eschewed the word president, as if merely saying it might co

For both political and psychological reasons, Washington needed to undergo a protracted period of indecision about the presidency. Part of him felt genuinely burdened by public life, especially since he experienced “the increasing infirmities of nature,” as he told Lafayette.33 He was torn, as always, by unacknowledged ambition mingled with self-doubt. During his October visit to Mount Vernon, Alexander Donald felt that Washington’s pro forma denial of interest in the presidency masked his true feelings. “As the eyes of all America are turned towards this truly great and good man for the first president, I took the liberty of sounding him upon it,” Donald told Jefferson. “He appears to be greatly against going into public life again, pleads in excuse for himself his love of retirement and his advanced age. But, notwithstanding of these, I am fully of opinion he may be induced to appear once more on the public stage of life.”34

Having been lionized for renouncing power at the war’s end, Washington found it hard to concede normal human ambition. In the Columbian Magazine of November 1787, a poet calling himself “Ci

As his name was bruited about for president, Washington was caught in an excruciating predicament. Merely to broach the topic, even in strict confidence with friends, might seem to betray some secret craving on his part. As he later confessed to Hamilton, he dared not seek advice: “For situated as I am, I could hardly bring the question into the slightest discussion, or ask an opinion, even in the most confidential ma