Barely a year had passed since Washington had left office with “a determination not to intermeddle in any public matter.” In letters, he worried what people would say if he violated that pledge. Would they “denounce” his return as “a restless act, evincive of discontent in retirement”? If so, they would not have been completely wrong. With a speed that surprised no one more than himself, Washington decided that he could not “remain an idle spectator” when what lay in peril was “everything sacred and dear to freemen.”
Far from fearing Washington’s return, Adams encouraged it—at least initially. So enthusiastic was Adams that he appointed his predecessor commander in chief of the armies of the United States without pausing to ponder why the Constitution specifically assigns that title to the president—and without knowing what Washington’s terms of acceptance might be.
As it turned out, Washington had some conditions. He would not take active command of the new army except in the event of an invasion and wanted to select the other general officers— including his second-in-command, who would serve as the head in his absence. For this position, Washington chose the one officer he had specifically heard Adams did not want: Hamilton.
Adams distrusted Hamilton and privately feared he more resembled a Caesar than a Cincinnatus. But publicly, Adams could not afford a falling out with Washington, who made it known he would resign if he did not get his way. Adams had no choice but to give way. Had he not, Adams later explained to a friend, Hamilton would have received command of the army directly from Washington, who “would have been chosen president at the next election.”
The evidence suggests that Adams was right to worry: As Adams embraced an opportunity for new negotiations that ensured a full-scale war with France never happened, influential people in communication with his own Cabinet secretaries plotted ways to replace him by persuading Washington to stand for office in the coming election of 1800. Much as Washington tried to stop all talk of the idea, his friends still found reason to fantasize.
While leaving office often creates the public perception of lifting modern presidents above politics, the private letters Washington sent reveal that he had descended deeper than ever. He began openly describing himself as a member of a political party (the Federalists), involved himself in congressional electioneering in a way he never would have as president, and supported the infamous Alien and Sedition Acts, which the government used to imprison the sort of journalists who had attacked his character while in office.