Washington was indeed happy to escape Philadelphia, then the capital of the United States, and return to Mount Vernon, his large but long-neglected estate on the banks of the Potomac. There, in Adams’s words, he hoped to “plunge into agriculture and ride away his reflections.”
Washington wasted no time in repairing and improving his house, gardens, and fields, but his retirement was troubled. The war between Britain and France that had divided his cabinet between Francophile Republicans and Anglophile Federalists was still threatening American security, and few believed that the notably unmartial Adams was up to the job of commander in chief. A dozen miles north of Mount Vernon, the future capital that was to bear Washington’s name was being built in fits and starts, as investors proved reluctant to stake their wealth on a “city” that looked more like an untamed forest. And surrounding his mansion were the dwellings of more than 300 slaves, whose continued bondage was a constant rebuke to the ideals he had sacrificed so much to advance.
These challenges were great enough. But Washington had also to deal with a problem unique to his position. Just as none before him had ever served as the elected head of state of a republic, so nobody had ever voluntarily retired from such an office. What, precisely, was an ex-president to do?
That dilemma is thoughtfully explored by Jonathan Horn in Washington’s End, a poignant look at the father of his country in the twilight of his life. Horn, a former speechwriter for President George W. Bush (the 43rd president often referred to Washington as “the first George Dubya”), has a fluid, pleasing style, with stately cadences that suit his subject.
Horn reminds us that the partisan heat that sometimes warps our political discourse is nothing new. While vice president, Jefferson lamented, “Men who have been intimate all their lives cross the streets to avoid meeting, and turn their heads another way, lest they should be obliged to touch their hat.” This, while true, was a little rich coming from Jefferson, the head of the nation’s first opposition party, and the sponsor of often-scurrilous partisan journalism. Washington, the target of much of that journalism, responded in turn. About the Jeffersonians he raged: “Let that party set up a broomstick — and call it a true Son of Liberty, a Democrat, or give it any other epithet that will suit their purpose — and it will command their votes in toto!”
Of the original presidential triumvirate, Washington had by far the briefest time in retirement. John Adams had a quarter of a century to potter around his Massachusetts home and contemplate his legacy; Thomas Jefferson had more than 17 years on his Virginia mountaintop. Washington, on the other hand, lived for only two years and nine months after leaving office. Of all American presidents, only James K. Polk and Chester A. Arthur had shorter retirements.