Sons of the Father: George Washington and His Protégés

Preface

George Washington fathered no children, but he never lacked for sons. This volume considers his influence on the lives, careers, and characters of the members of a diverse fraternity of younger men that included military commanders such as Nathanael Greene as well as political figures such as Gouverneur Morris. With some, such as Henry Knox and the Marquis de Lafayette, he enjoyed especially close relationships. Others, such as Daniel Morgan and Anthony Wayne, received from him little affection. He could be a stern parent, scorning the disloyalty of James Monroe, but also an indulgent one, forgiving the insubordination of Alexander Hamilton, who, like Thomas Jefferson, possessed a capacity not only to serve Washington but also to appropriate his name for political advantage. One of the men under consideration in these pages, Captain Robert Kirkwood of Delaware, Washington may have never met. Yet Kirkwood knew Washington and, like others of various ranks who scrutinized the behavior of the Continental Army’s commander in chief, followed his example of how to lead. What was it like to serve under Washington? Whether acting as a military officer or civilian officeholder, he did not possess a reputation for gladhanding , easy confidences, or even much warmth. His greatest attributes as a commander might well have been his firm command over his own emotions and the way in which he held himself above if not apart from the men who looked to him for leadership. The artist Charles Willson Peale, who visited Mount Vernon in 1772, later remembered: “One afternoon, several young gentlemen . . . and myself were engaged in pitching the bar, one of the athletic sports common in those times, when suddenly the Colonel appeared among Preface xii Preface us. He requested to be shown the pegs that marked the bounds of our efforts; then, smiling, and without putting off his coat, held out his hand for the missile .” As Peale recalled: “No sooner did the heavy iron bar feel the grasp of his mighty hand than it lost the power of gravitation, and whizzed through the air, striking the ground far, very far, beyond our utmost limits. We were indeed amazed, as we stood around, all stripped to the buff, with shirt sleeves rolled up, and having thought ourselves very clever fellows, while the Colonel , on retiring, pleasantly observed, ‘When you beat my pitch, young gentlemen , I’ll try again.’”1 At Mount Vernon to capture the likeness of the forty-year-old planter in the militia uniform that he had worn during the French and Indian War, Peale painted Washington’s portrait in words at least as well as he did in oil. As his anecdote suggests, working for this man of exacting standards and prodigious talents could prove a humbling task. How to impress an individual who seemingly had no difficulty making the greatest challenges appear easy? Effective leadership, Washington believed, included an ability and a willingness to stand as a model of excellence for the emulation of others. As he reminded his subordinates in 1756, it was “the actions, and not the commission, that make the Officer.” He noted later that only a “phenomenon in nature” could make possible “a well disciplin’d Soldiery, where Officers are relax’d and tardy in their duty.” On the other hand, “when Officers set good Examples, it may be expected that the men will with zeal and alacrity follow them.”2 These words of wisdom must have been difficult for Washington to swallow when, in September 1776, the imminent landing of 4,000 British and Hessian soldiers at Kip’s Bay on Manhattan sparked panic among Connecticut militia manning the breastworks and the two Continental brigades that rushed to reinforce them. Washington, alerted to the attack by the roar of British warships’ cannon, rode four miles from his command post to find a scene of utter disarray. Heedless of his calls to “Take the walls!” and “Take the cornfield!,” soldiers retreated past him in full sprint. “I used every means in my power to rally and get them into some order,” he reported to John Hancock , president of the Continental Congress. More specific accounts of his actions claim that he cast his hat on the ground, threatened his own troops with his sword, brandished his cocked pistol, and swatted some of his officers with his riding crop. Seething with rage and hurling obscenities, he ventured dangerously close to the enemy before his aides grabbed his horse by its bridle and pulled him toward safety. Washington...