In his leadership style, George Washington normally maintained a distance that forbade a familiar intimacy or a transparent disclosing of his thoughts or feelings. Yet his reserve in interpersonal relationships did not translate into an arrogant or haughty spirit. Instead, he was also known for his humility
HUMILITY
Washington’s humility is reflected in Zall’s description of how on one occasion as he was on his way to Mt. Vernon, he was caught in a heavy rainfall. The drenching rain forced him to leave his horse and take a “common stage.” Zall writes, “When the coach stopped at a tavern the innkeeper invited the General to the private parlor, but Washington protested: ‘No, no. It is customary for the people who travel in this stage always to eat together. I will not desert my companions.’”16 What is captured in this anecdote is evident in Washington’s words as well.
When George Washington was offered the position of commander in chief of the Army of America, he felt unworthy of the task, and he said so. Here is a portion of his speech to the Continental Congress on June 16, 1775:
Mr. President,
Though I am truly sensible of the high honor done me in this appointment, yet I feel great distress from a consciousness that my abilities and military experience may not be equal to the extensive and important trust. However, as the Congress desire it, I will enter upon the momentous duty and exert every power I possess in the service and for support of the glorious cause. I beg they will accept my most cordial thanks for this distinguished testimony of their approbation. But lest some unlucky event should happen unfavourable to my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in the room, that I this day declare with the utmost sincerity I do not think myself equal to the command I am honored with.
As to pay, Sir, I beg leave to assure the Congress, that as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employment at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any profit from it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses. Those I doubt not they will discharge, and that is all I desire.17
He was willing to be reimbursed for his expenses, but he was not willing to receive pay.18 He expressed his feeling that he was not worthy of the task, but if Congress felt he could lead effectively, he felt honored. He wrote a letter to Martha around that time expressing similar thoughts and also mentioning that he would trust in God to see him through.19
About a year and a half later, he explained to Congress: “I have no lust after power but wish with as much fervency as any Man upon this wide extended Continent, for an opportunity of turning the Sword into a plow share.”20 Communicating this same humility, he wrote to his brother Augustine:
I am now to bid adieu to you, and to every kind of domestic ease, for a while. I am embarked on a wide ocean, boundless in its prospect, and in which, perhaps, no safe harbor is to be found. I have been called upon by the unanimous voice of the Colonies to take the command of the continental army; an honor I have neither sought after, nor desired, as I am thoroughly convinced that it requires greater abilities and much more experience, than I am master of, to conduct a business so extensive in its nature and arduous in its execution. But the partiality of the Congress, joined to a political motive, really left me without a choice; and I am now commissioned a General and Commander-in-Chief of all the forces now raised, or to be raised, for the defense of the United Colonies. That I may discharge the trust to the satisfaction of my employers, is my first wish; that I shall aim to do it, there remains as little doubt of. How far I shall succeed, is another point; but this I am sure of, that, in the worst event, I shall have the consolation of knowing, if I act to the best of my judgment, that the blame ought to lodge upon the appointers, not the appointed, as it was by no means a thing of my seeking, or proceeding from any hint of my friends. I shall hope that my friends will visit and endeavor to keep up the spirits of my wife, as much as they can, as my departure will, I know, be a cutting stroke upon her;21
By coupling humility with a sense of official distance, Washington carried himself with what could be called a reserved dignity.
RESERVED DIGNITY
George Washington had a commanding presence that left many with a sense of awe. Zall describes the impact he had on those who knew him or observed him: “Thomas Jefferson said that Washington hated the ceremony of the office but played up to the public’s expectations of it. John Adams called Washington ‘the best actor of presidency we have ever had.’22 In other words, being president called on one to act in a dignified manner—to Adams, George Washington played the part better than any-one. Abigail Adams marveled at the way he could balance the opposite and discordant ‘dignity that forbids familiarity’ with the ‘easy affinity which creates Love and Reverence.’ Even British observers wondered at this Socratic art of ‘concealing his own sentiments and of discovering those of other men.’”23
His impact was felt even on those who did not like him or what he stood for. Zall explains: “Even cynics marveled at his bearing. His natural dignity defied description. Sir James Bland Burges saw him as ‘cold, reserved, and even phlegmatic without the least appearance of haughtiness or ill nature,’ with an odd compound of pride and ‘constitutional diffidence.’”24
Washington was even concerned for a balance of humility and honor in his appearance. This is seen as he began to prepare a new American Army to defend the nation in the event of a French invasion in the aftermath of the French Revolution. When the then retired president was asked about his new uniform, he noted, in a letter to James McHenry on January 27, 1799:
On reconsidering the uniform for the Commander-in-Chief as it respects myself personally, I was against all embroidery.”25 [Similarly, Washington wrote to his nephew and spoke about the dangers of vanity as seen in showing off expensive clothing:] “Do not conceive that fine clothes make fine men any more than fine feathers make fine birds. A plain genteel dress is more admired, and obtains more credit than lace and embroidery, in the Eyes of the judicious and sensible.26
A spirit of humility had marked his life from early on. The agent who oversaw his business dealings in London in 1758 once incorrectly called him “ye Honorable.” Washington promptly corrected and clarified the potentially flattering bestowal of a prestigious title: “You are pleased to dub me with a title I have no pretensions to—that is, ye Honorable.”27 Washington would not rest in mere words. If he was to be “ye honorable” his deeds, not words alone, would have to prove it so.
DEEDS, NOT WORDS
One of the best ways to interpret George Washington’s life is to understand his philosophy of “deeds, not words”. Nelly Custis, Washington’s adopted granddaughter, said, “His mottoes were, ‘Deeds, Not Words’; and ‘For God and My Country.’”28 For example, he wrote Major General John Sullivan on December 15, 1779:
A slender acquaintance with the world must convince every man, that actions, not words, are the true criterion of the attachment of his friends, and that the most liberal professions of good will are very far from being the surest marks of it.29
Washington wrote to Patrick Henry on January 15, 1799: “The views of men can only be known, or guessed at, by their words or actions.”30 Accordingly, he utilized the power of symbolic actions. At the beginning of the Battle of Yorktown, he dug with his own hands into the soil of Yorktown to signify the start of the siege, and once both French and American cannons were in place, he fired the first round. He underscored his written orders by powerful and meaningful visible actions to inspire his men.
Thus, George Washington preferred to be known as a man of “deeds not words.” Writing to James Anderson on December 21, 1797, he explained,
If a person only sees, or directs from day to day what is to be done, business can never go on methodically or well, for in case of sickness, or the absence of the Director, delays must follow. System to all things is the soul of business. To deliberate maturely, and execute promptly is the way to conduct it to advantage. With me, it has always been a maxim, rather to let my designs appear from my works than by my expressions.31
Even the words of the motto found on the Washington family’s historic British Coat of Arms, “Exitus Acta Probat”, when translated from Latin means “The end proves the deed.”32 The Washington heritage emphasized actions rather than words.
We must interpret George Washington on his own terms. To insist that only his written words will give him meaning is to deny the very motivation of his own conduct—actions spoke louder than words. It is important for the debate we pursue in this book to underscore that Washington never declared himself to be a Deist, and he did declare himself to be a Christian. But, as critical as this is, Washington’s actions were intended to speak louder than his words. Accordingly, throughout this book, we will demonstrate his Christian worship, his Christian prayers, his other Christian actions, alongside the words of his writings that also reflect the presence of numerous Christian ideas.
Washington’s book plate bearing the family coat of arms, his motto, “the end proves the deed,” and a foreshadowing of the American Flag of stars and stripes
EXPERIENCES THAT TAUGHT WASHINGTON TO GUARD HIS WORDS
It may be that part of Washington’s reticence to express his own feelings is that he was “gun shy,” so to speak. Apparently, he had recklessly expressed his feelings as a young man, and these expressions came back to haunt him. Two incidents in the 1750s, in particular, come to mind. The first was a hasty signing of a poorly translated agreement of surrender with the French at Fort Necessity, by which Washington unwittingly and incorrectly admitted to having assassinated a French ambassador.33
The second incident occurred in this same context. Compounding this misstep (or intentional French deception) during his surrender, Washington sent his brother a letter celebrating the delights of battle: “I heard Bullets whistle and believe me there was something charming in the sound.”34 The French intercepted the letter and subsequently published it throughout the Western world. The remark, when eventually read by British King George II (father of George III), caused him to remark, “He would not say so, if he had been used to hear many.”35 Twenty years later, in 1775, when someone asked if he had actually made that foolish statement, Washington answered, “If I said so, it was when I was young.”36
Another reason for silence on personal matters was that letters in that day were unreliable and liable to miscarriage, interception, misuse and sometimes, such as in times of war, were even subject to being replaced with spurious letters. Washington was the target of spurious letters and on occasion had to refute them.37 Along with the obvious reason of preserving their cherished privacy after a very public life, this may have been part of the reason Martha burned their letters after George’s death. At any rate, painful personal experiences seem to have helped seal Washington’s lips when he was tempted to speak of himself.
WISE ABOUT HISTORY; UNCONCERNED ABOUT LEGACY
Again and again, Washington showed himself to be more of a man of action than words. Yet the lessons of the past mattered to him. He wrote to Major General John Armstrong on March 26, 1781: “We ought not to look back, unless it is to derive useful lessons from past errors, and for the purpose of profiting by dear bought experience. To inveigh against things that are past and irremediable, is unpleasing; but to steer clear of the shelves and rocks we have struck upon, is the part of wisdom.”38 But he did not want to talk about himself. In a letter to his lifelong personal friend and favorite physician, Dr. James Craik on March 25, 1784:
I will frankly declare to you, my dear doctor, that any memoirs of my life, distinct and unconnected with the general history of the war, would rather hurt my feelings than tickle my pride whilst I lived. I had rather glide gently down the stream of life, leaving it to posterity to think and say what they please of me, than by any act of mine to have vanity or ostentation imputed to me. I do not think vanity is a trait of my character.39
In his past as well as in his future conduct, he strove to avoid vanity. In a letter to James Madison, written from Mount Vernon, May 20, 1792, he pointed out that given the existing political divisions, it would be best for the country for him to run for president again, but that he was not seeking reelection for vanity’s sake, but for the good of the nation. He hoped no one would misinterpret his motives:
Nothing short of conviction that my deriliction of the Chair of Government (if it should be the desire of the people to continue me in it) would involve the Country in serious disputes respecting the chief Magestrate, and the disagreeable consequences which might result there from in the floating, and divided opinions which seem to prevail at present, could, in any wise, induce me to relinquish the determination I have formed: and of this I do not see how any evidence can be obtained previous to the Election. My vanity, I am sure, is not of that cast as to allow me to view the subject in this light.
....In revolving this subject myself, my judgment has always been embarrassed. On the one hand, a previous declaration to retire, not only carries with it the appearance of vanity and self importance, but it may be construed into a manoeuvre to be invited to remain. And on the other hand, to say nothing, implys consent; or, at any rate, would leave the matter in doubt, and to decline afterwards might be deemed as bad, and uncandid.40
When he wrestled with the question of becoming the president for the first time at Mount Vernon, one of his favorite military aids had been staying with the Washingtons. David Humphreys became the president’s confidant in those interesting days, and in his unfinished biography, he preserved some of the discussions that the two had about Washington’s pending history making decision. Out of this trust, Humphreys was given Washington’s go ahead to work on his biography, a project he never finished.41
HIS OFFICIAL BIOGRAPHY?
He also pointed out that he neither had the time—nor the literary skills—to write up a memoir about his war experience. Below is a comment he made in a letter to David Humphreys, the only man Washington would trust to write a biography of him, dated July 25, 1785:
