American History Revised (11 page)

Anyone who thinks the short-lived Articles of Confederation belong in the dustbin of history would be contradicted by no less than Abraham Lincoln. When South Carolina and other Southern states seceded, Lincoln refused their action by referring not to the Constitution but to the Articles of Confederation, whose formal name is “The Articles of Confederation and Perpetual Union.” In a hard-hitting speech to Congress on July 4, 1861, Lincoln reminded the South of its solemn oath, saying, “The express plighting [pledging] of faith by each and all of the original thirteen in the Articles of Confederation, two years later, that the union shall be perpetual, is most conclusive.”

Prior to 1789, several governments ruled the colonies. The first was the First Continental Congress, of 1774, which asserted the rights of the colonists to be free of absolute British authority; this was followed by the Second Continental Congress, of 1775, which appointed George Washington as General of the Continental Army. The name of this government was “The Continental Congress in the United Colonies of America,” best known for passing the Declaration of Independence in 1776. Then, as the war dragged on and it became apparent that conciliation would never be possible, the government adopted a more assertive name by substituting “States” for “Colonies” (drawing upon the Declaration of Independence, which had declared the “United Colonies” to be “free and independent States”).

On March 1, 1781, as victory over the British appeared imminent, the “Continental Congress in the United States of America” ratified the Articles of Confederation and changed its name to the “United States in Congress Assembled.” This was the beginning of the new nation, defined by the Articles as “A Perpetual Union between the states of New Hampshire, Massachusetts-bay, Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia.”

The British surrendered in 1781. Washington was inaugurated in 1789. During those critical first eight years of independence, ten men ran the country.

The first “President of the United States in Congress Assembled” was Samuel Huntington of Connecticut. But there was a problem. The Articles specified that the president could serve no longer than a year. Because Huntington had been the president of the Continental Congress since
1779, he had been in power well beyond the one-year term limit now mandated by the Articles of Confederation. Huntington solved the problem by accepting the job, then resigning after five months.

The nominee to be his successor, Samuel Johnson, declined the nomination altogether. “Yes, that is correct,” says one historian. “Someone actually refused after the ballots were cast to serve as President of the United States.”

Quickly replacing Johnson the next day was Thomas McKean, under whom Congress signed the peace treaty with Great Britain. McKean, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, continued in Pennsylvania politics after his brief four-month tenure and is best remembered today as the man who turned down his party’s 1804 nomination to be Thomas Jefferson’s vice president. His reasoning was simple. In a letter to Jefferson, he wrote: “Presidents of the United States in Congress Assembled in the year of 1781 (a proud year for Americans) equaled any merit or pretensions of mine and cannot now be increased by the office of Vice President.” Such were the early beginnings of low esteem for the office of the vice presidency.

Next came John Hanson of Maryland, who, because he took office just after the Revolutionary War ended and served the full one-year term (1781–82) as the first presiding officer of what was now called the United States of America, is given credit by some historians as America’s first president.
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While historians and legal scholars split infinitives over historical trivia (one historian even going so far as to sue the U.S. government in court for overlooking Hanson), one fact acknowledged by all is that Hanson was the first man to use the presidential title. Whereas his predecessor signed his resolutions, “United States in Congress Assembled, Thomas McKean President,” Hanson signed his as “John Hanson, President of the United States in Congress assembled.”

He also was called “His Excellency,” as were all presidents at the time. But titles and salutations do not a president make. When Washington became president and the members of Congress started addressing him as such, he told them to stop, he would have none of it. “Mr. President” would do, and so it has continued to this day.

After Hanson came Elias Boudinot of New Jersey, Thomas Mifflin of Pennsylvania, Richard Henry Lee of Virginia, John Hancock of Massachusetts, Nathaniel Gorham of Massachusetts, Arthur St. Clair of Pennsylvania, and Cyrus Griffin of Virginia. Of these notables, only two are known today: Richard Henry Lee as the great-uncle of the famous Confederate
general, and John Hancock for his enormous signature on the Declaration of Independence (“big enough for King George to see without glasses!” he roared at the signing).

Why this obscurity? For two reasons: the privacy of deliberations, and the lack of executive power. The members of the Confederation Government had taken an oath of secrecy not to record or publish any of their debates. This oath bound not only the congressional delegates but also the president and his chief officers, the secretary of finance, the secretary of state, and the secretary of war. The United States in Congress Assembled kept journals, but only to record resolutions and a “minuscule amount of official correspondence deemed necessary to enter into the public record.” Lost forever were thousands of documents, which nowadays, had they been recorded and preserved, would represent a treasure trove for historians. No documents, no “history.”

The presidency in those early days was more like being the head of the UN or NATO, a deliberative job with no real executive power other than that permitted—and voted upon—by the member states. The president could negotiate and sign peace treaties, but could not raise taxes to pay for the Revolutionary War’s massive debts. Despite this handicap, all these presidents served their country with distinction, some with considerably greater skill than their successor “presidents.” Samuel Huntington, the man who had led the Continental Congress to ratify the Articles of Confederation unanimously, used his considerable clout to get Congress to go along with Robert Morris’s controversial plan to create a national bank and a national budget for the United States. When Congress ran out of money—a frequent occurrence—Huntington stepped in and paid the bills himself.

For an example of presidential character, one need look no further than Elias Boudinot. When John Jay, John Adams, and Benjamin Franklin ignored President Boudinot’s instructions that France be included in the 1783 peace negotiations with Great Britain, Boudinot overlooked the rebuff and gracefully accepted what his negotiators had accomplished.

The most distinguished of these unknown presidents has to be Arthur St. Clair. Born and raised in Scotland, St. Clair immigrated to America and became a general in the Continental Army, playing a prominent role in Washington’s victories at Trenton and Princeton. In 1783 some three hundred mutineers from the Continental Army marched on Philadelphia and threatened to overthrow President Boudinot’s government unless they were paid. When the Pennsylvania militia failed to respond to Congress’s plea for rescue, St. Clair personally negotiated with the mutineers and averted the crisis. When another rebellion occurred in 1787—the attack by Daniel Shays and six hundred farmers on the arsenal of Massachusetts—the states quickly called St. Clair to the rescue once again, this time by electing him president. St. Clair
put the rebellion down, but recognized—unlike his predecessor presidents—that any long-term solution required a stronger government. He became the leading advocate of the resolution for a Philadelphia Convention to revise the Articles of Confederation. In another act of leadership, St. Clair initiated and secured congressional approval for what Daniel Webster called the single law that exceeded all others in “the effects of distinct, marked, and lasting character.” This was the Northwest Ordinance of 1787, which expanded the United States to include the territories north and west of the Ohio River, but under the strict condition that there be no slavery. This was revolutionary. Upon leaving office, St. Clair became governor of those territories now occupied by Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, and parts of Minnesota and Wisconsin. Those lands, at the time, constituted more than half of the United States.

Arthur St. Clair (painting by Charles Willson Peale)

More important than his leadership in the westward expansion of the United States, including forbidding slavery, is St. Clair’s leadership in paving the way for a new, more effective government. What president today would argue for a constitutional convention to redefine his job and create a new form of government? Yet there are those who argue that is exactly what is needed: the Constitution of 1787, created for an agrarian nation of four million people, is out of date for an industrial nation approaching 300 million people, and has resulted in a federal government that is too centralized and powerful. Thomas Jefferson thought that the Constitution would have to be revised every generation or so, just as “a man outgrows a boy’s suit.” Anyone expecting an Arthur St. Clair to emerge from today’s Washington, D.C., culture will be waiting a long time.

A major dilemma facing our constitutional form of government today is excessive presidential power. Almost surely, Thomas Jefferson would be jumping up and down, urging revision of the Constitution: “Time to make a new suit!” He might refer to the eight years from 1781 to 1789—equivalent to two modern terms—when a revolving door of presidents did no great harm. There were no scandals or abuses of power. Given that almost all twentieth-century
presidents have had disappointing final years in their second terms, and that the job is “a hard one, a very hard job” (as George W. Bush said in his second debate with John Kerry in the 2004 election), shorter terms and more presidents may be desirable.

1790
The selection of a site along the Potomac River for the nation’s capital had nothing to do with the beauty or geographic convenience of the place. It was the result of good old-fashioned pork-barrel politics.

In 1790 the powerful treasury secretary, Alexander Hamilton, was deadlocked in a political struggle with his
Federalist Papers
coauthor and the most powerful member of the First Congress, James Madison of Virginia. Hamilton, trying to force the American “confederation” of states into a tighter union, wanted the national government to have the power to tax and pay off the debts of the Revolution; Congress, consisting primarily of states-righters, balked.

Under a deal with the Jeffersonians, Hamilton agreed to let the national capital, then in his native New York City, go to Philadelphia for ten years, then on to a permanent home in Virginia. Virginia provided the swing votes to change the House of Representatives’ 29–33 “nay” vote into a 33–29 “aye,” and the bargain was consummated. Hamilton got his assumption bill, and Virginia got a capital city with all the new construction jobs and other perks that would ensue.

For this city, the Founding Fathers specified that it incorporate a radial layout of the streets from major circles; it must have no rectangular blocks as in Philadelphia (and later New York). Reason: fearful of armed insurrection, the Founding Fathers envisioned the larger circles as military bases for armed soldiers to maintain control of the streets in case of mob violence.