You would figure that the history of America’s “Revolutionary Era” would be milked dry by now and the stories of its players a stale drama. This book represents the effort of a professional historian to forge new insights by looking collectively at the so-called Founding Fathers, stretching a metaphor for their alliances and conflicts as being emblematic of the very checks and balances that they built into the Constitution in 1787. Through a set of six lively essays, he probes the diverse personalities and substantive interactions among these figures in relationship to the major issues that arose in the decade after the new government was formed (essentially the 1790s). His focus is on Washington, John Adams, Jefferson, and Hamilton, with supplemental attention given to Madison, Burr, and Franklin. Because they all knew each other and worked together in collaboration and strife over such a long time, Ellis adopts the phrase “Founding Brothers” for his title.
In his preface, Ellis points out that despite these white dudes being lionized and mythologized by so many for so long, each generation sees the launch of the nation a bit differently, with different implications for contemporary controversies according to who is looking:
A golden haze surrounds this period for many Americans, but as a contaminated radioactive cloud for those unhappy with what we have become and how we got here.
The draw of this book for me is in the opportunity to understand personalities of these players on history’s stage a bit better and to appreciate how their human strengths and flaws came into play in shaping the country’s course. As an effective way to clarify the impact of personality on amplifying political differences, Ellis kicks off his book by examining the pistol duel between Vice President Burr and Hamilton that ended in the senseless death of the latter. I have had the pleasure of a satirical dose of the quirks and dark spots in Burr’s character from reading Vidal’s novel “Burr”. I didn’t realize how much Hamilton brought on the challenge from Burr by his campaign of continual gossip and insults of Burr in social situations. I pictured Hamilton as an effete snob, but learned he came from humble roots. Through prior readings I’ve gotten to know and admire Adams, Washington, and Franklin, but for Jefferson and Hamilton what little I know makes me somewhat biased against them. I came away with some fresh angles on the first three and for the latter two substantially more about what made them tick (though little to make me love them any better). Regardless of personal appeal or distaste, their alliances and conflicts moved the country through the bad patches.
In a wonderful chapter called “The Collaborators”, Ellis compares and contrasts the early close collaboration between Adams and Jefferson, best seen in their teamwork on the Declaration of Independence, with that of Jefferson and Madison, a match of strategist with tactician that led to Jefferson beating Adams in his run for a second term. In between, we get the falling out between Jefferson and Adams during their competition to replace Washington and the full bloom of Adams’ productive collaboration with his wife Abigail during his presidency.
I get a kick out of Ellis’ evocative language in the challenges to the friendship between Adams and Jefferson:
They were an incongruous pair, but everyone seemed to argue that history made them into a pair. The incongruities leapt out for all to see: Adams, the short, stout, candid-to-a-fault New Englander; Jefferson, the tall, slender, elegantly elusive Virginian; Adams, the highly combustible., ever combative, mile-a-minute talker, whose favorite form of conversation was an argument; Jefferson, the always cool and self-contained enigma, who regarded debate and argument as violations of the natural harmonies he heard inside his own head. The list could go on—the Yankee and the Cavalier, the orator and the writer, the bulldog and the greyhound. They were the odd couple of the American Revolution.
For Washington and Adams, a strong central government was essential to achieve the nation’s great opportunity to settle and harness the resources of a continent, negotiate beneficial trade agreements with other nations, and develop an adequate defense from threats. Adams wrote of the need to retain a “monarchical principle” of power in the government to get things done as the only pragmatic way to achieve national cohesion over territories so much vaster the Greek city states that first developed a democracy. For Jefferson and his protégé Madison, any conferral of substantial power at the federal level came to represent a revival of the kind of tyranny for which the revolution was waged. When Hamilton and the group of Federalists began machinations to establish a national bank to facilitate economic growth, this pushed Jefferson’s buttons even more as a betrayal of a revolution for individual rights and agrarian values and a return of power to a monied and largely urban elite, i.e. a new aristocracy. Thus, the “all-for-one and one-for-all” sense of unity that emerged when the Revolutionary War was on soon came to an end, and the age of vicious party politics began.
Forever after, party loyalty would threaten to belie the ideal that the elected government was to serve the entire populace. Dirty tricks, smear campaigns, and fake news came out of the woodwork surprisingly early. In the election to replace Washington, Jefferson is guilty of paying a “scandalmonger” to do a hatchet job on Adams’ character in the press and in a pamphlet, painting “Adams as ‘a hoary headed incendiary’ who was equally determined on war with France and on declaring himself president for life, with John Quincy lurking in the background as his successor. When Jefferson’s role was definitively revealed, “Jefferson seemed genuinely surprised at the revelation, suggesting that for him the deepest secrets were not the ones he kept from his enemies but the ones he kept from himself”. (Another choice quote: “Jefferson’s nearly Herculean powers of self-denial also helped keep the cause pure, at least in the privacy of his own mind”; elsewhere Ellis notes that Jefferson could probably pass a lie detector test denying each of his various duplicities).
After his narrow victory, Adams invited Jefferson into his cabinet, but party politics and ideology kept Jefferson from acceding to revival of their old collaborative spirit. Adams had filled his cabinet with Hamilton and his followers, whose manipulations on behalf of their agenda disgusted Adams himself. He resorted to using his wife Abigail as his effective cabinet of one for all important help with his deliberations. The breach with Jefferson yawned even wider when Adams undermined Jefferson’s longstanding goal of an alliance with France by forging a secret agreement with England to secure umbrella protections from their fleet in exchange for a favorable trade status for them. More fuel for their personal conflict was added to the fire when Adams acceded to his wife’s unfortunate push for the Aliens and Sedition Act to protect him from libelous attacks in the press. When the law came to be used as a political weapon selectively against the Republican-leaning press, the gloves really came off.
Only much later, after Jefferson’s term and retirement, did the pair take up correspondence and slowly let go of their mutual sense of betrayal. Their remarkable correspondence over many years until their deaths on the 50th anniversary of Independence Day reveals a return to true friendship and a great repository of their attempts to make sense of history. Ellis’ coverage of the correspondence makes for a nice complement to the in-depth treatment of the rapprochement in McCullough’s wonderful biography “John Adams.”
Ironically, it was Adams that succeeded in achieving a parallel treaty with France to balance out the English one, though it came too late in his presidency to affect the election of Jefferson. He had been trying to follow Washington’s lead on navigating a path of neutrality with respect to the centuries old struggle between England and France for dominance of western Europe. However, these was not a stable government to negotiate with for a long time, and the attempt by Tallyrand to extract a hefty bribe just to get to the table set progress back. In turn, it was ironic that it was Jefferson who achieved the Louisiana Purchase and thereby unleashed true imperial spirit for taking over the continent. And it was he that helped achieve the banning of the slave trade.
With hindsight we can see the raw deal that was being set up for the future for blacks and Indians. Mostly, the leaders at the time colluded in an active deferral in addressing the slavery issue. Too hot to handle. The southern colonies wouldn’t have joined the Union if slavery was in the lineup for federal interference. In an important chapter of this book, “The Silence”, it was disturbing to see how a simple petition to Congress by some early Quaker abolitionists in 1790 could reveal the terrible instability of the nation. Endorsed by Franklin, it couldn’t be ignored. Their presentation of the contradiction between trafficking in human beings and the precept of “all men are created equal” was clear, as was their argument that is was the duty of Congress was to resolve it. Despite the consensus buried in the Constitution that no law could be passed restricting the slave trade for 20 years, the Pennsylvania petitioners maintained that Congress could still do its constitutional duty of abolishing slavery under its “general welfare” clause that empowered them to “take whatever action it deemed ‘necessary and proper’ to …’Countenance the Restoration of Liberty for all Negroes'.” That brought out plenty of tap-dancing from the southern delegation about state rights and the practice being okay with God according to certain biblical passages. With a few states making threats about seceding, the petition was ignored.
In retrospect, it’s easy to be forgiving that it would take some time to call the bluff of hard-core states like South Carolina. But Ellis takes a surprising tack by arguing that this point in time was near the end of the period when slavery could be abolished with limited impact. The census for 1790 revealed exponential growth of the population of slaves similar to that of whites since 1776, reaching 700,000 out of nearly 4 million total non-Indian population (I was shocked that New York and New Jersey still had 33,000) . With the added likelihood of new slave states being added to the Union, the door was closely quickly on the economic feasibility of a compensated emancipation from the federal coffers.
None of the Founding Fathers really countenanced a fully bi-racial society. All imagined shipping the massive number of freed slaves somewhere else, to some colony in Africa, South America, or to some place out West (not too different from the mindset during Lincoln’s presidency 75 years later). Jefferson may have loved his slave Sally Hemings and had children by her, but he did not free her and did not conceive of blacks worthy of full citizenship. In the case of his fellow Virginian, Washington, Ellis provides bits of evidence that he did imagine a fully integrated society. Some quote shows he believed that low expectations of their capabilities arose from the outcomes of their environment and not intrinsic character. Also, his will specified that after his wife also died that his Mt. Vernon estate be sold and proceeds be used to support opportunities for his freed family slaves and their descendants over a few generations.
That Washington had an unusually egalitarian streak about the races is also suggested in his “Letter to the Cherokee Nation", in which he encourages them to seek assimilation into white society as the only solution for all Indians given the inevitable settlement of all their lands by the unstoppable whites. Washington acknowledged that he was asking a lot, that “this path may seem may seem a little difficult to enter … because it meant subduing their understandable urge to resist and sacrificing many of their most distinctive and cherished tribal values. “ I appreciate Ellis’ summary:
Whatever moral deficiencies and cultural condescensions a modern-day audience might find in Washington’s advice, two salient points are clear: First, it was in keeping with his relentless realism about the limited choices that history offered; and, second, it projected Indians into the mix of people called Americans.
I wonder if in this Age of Trump whether Ellis will feel obliged to change this view of this roller-coaster of America’s first decade :
..in terms of shrill accusatory rhetoric, flamboyant displays of ideological intransigence, intense personal rivalries, and hyperbolic claims of immanent catastrophe, it has no equal in American history.