Hamilton rapidly became Washington’s most gifted scribe and his “principal and most confidential aide,” often attending war councils and enjoying a comprehensive view of the conflict.34 One officer claimed that Hamilton “thought as well as wrote for Washington.”35 Hamilton revered Washington’s courage, patriotism, and integrity and never doubted that he was the indispensable figure in the war effort. Nevertheless, no man is a hero to his valet, and Hamilton left some candidly critical views of Washington. He regarded Washington as a general of only modest ability and quickly sensed the powerful emotions bottled up inside his overwrought boss, whom he often found snappish and difficult.36
By this point in the war, Washington’s leadership style was crystal clear. He never insulated himself from contrary opinions, having told Joseph Reed early in the war to keep him posted on even unfriendly scuttlebutt. “I can bear to hear of imputed or real errors,” he wrote. “The man who wishes to stand well in the opinion of others must do this, because he is thereby enabled to correct his faults or remove the prejudices which are imbib[e]d against him.”37 Washington made excellent use of war councils to weigh all sides of an issue. Never a man of lightning-fast intuitions or sudden epiphanies, he usually groped his way to firm and accurate conclusions. Equipped with keen powers of judgment rather than originality, he was at his best when reacting to options presented by others. Once he made up his mind, it was difficult to dislodge him from his opinion, so thoroughly had he plumbed things through to the bottom.
Even as he fought the British, Washington deemed their army the proper model to emulate. As late as 1780 he made passing reference to “the British Army, from whence most of our rules and customs are derived, and in which long experience and improvement has brought their system as near perfection as in any other service.” 38 As in choosing aides, Washington believed that well-bred people made the best officers, advising Patrick Henry that the most reliable way to select a candidate was to find someone with “a just pretension to the character of a gentleman, a proper sense of honor, and some reputation to lose.”39 As in the French and Indian War, he warned officers to avoid excessive familiarity with their inferiors. “Be easy and condescending in your deportment to your officers,” he instructed a Virginia commander, “but not too familiar, lest you subject yourself to a want of that respect which is necessary to support a proper command.”40 He required noncommissioned officers to wear swords “as a mark of distinction and to enable them the better to maintain the authority due to their stations.”41 At the same time he pleaded with officers to lead by example and share their men’s hardships, saying “it ought to be the pride of an officer to share the fatigue as well as danger to which his men are exposed.”42 That he championed Knox and Hamilton shows how the exigencies of the war forced him to search beyond his own social stratum and democratize the army almost in spite of himself.
During that Morristown winter Washington stressed the importance of clean clothing and sanitary quarters and a nutritious diet with vegetables and salads. He issued blanket prohibitions against playing cards and dice. While he couldn’t ban alcohol outright—the daily rations of rum were bottled courage—he tried to have soldiers drink it in diluted form and avoid “the vile practice of swallowing the whole ration of liquor at a single draft.”43 Washington valued well-played music in army life and assigned a band to each brigade. At one point he chided a fife and drum corps for playing badly and insisted that they practice more regularly; a year later, after the drummers took this admonition to an extreme, Washington restricted their practice to one hour in the morning, a second in the afternoon. He was also irked by the improvisations of some drummers and, amid the misery of Valley Forge, took the trouble to issue this broadside to wayward drummers: “The use of drums are as signals to the army and, if every drummer is allowed to beat at his pleasure, the intention is entirely destroy[e]d, as it will be impossible to distinguish whether they are beating for their own pleasure or for a signal to the troops.”44
In crusading for moral reformation among his men, Washington feared that profane language would undermine discipline. He winced when soldiers swore in his presence. As the general orders said of Washington, “His feelings are continually wounded by the oaths and imprecations of the soldiers whenever he is in hearing of them.”45 He was also apt to invoke the aid of religion. During the summer of 1776 the Continental Congress granted him permission to attach chaplains to each regiment, and he encouraged attendance at divine services by rotating his own presence among them. “The blessings and protection of Heaven are at all times necessary, but especially so in times of public distress and danger,” he assured his men, hoping “that every officer and man will endeavor so to live and act as becomes a Christian soldier defending the dearest rights and liberties of his country.”46 This was one of the rare times Washington referred to Christianity rather than Providence. In fact, he favored having chaplains chosen by local military units so no denominational character could be imposed from above.
Washington construed favorable events in the war as reflections of Providence, transforming him from an actor in a human drama into a tool of heavenly purpose. This expressed his religious faith but also satisfied certain political needs. While it lifted from his shoulders the credit for victories, it also didn’t burden him unduly with the crushing weight of defeat. He didn’t have to feel as if the entire fate of the nation rested with him. For someone afraid of showing vanity, he could also avoid boasting by invoking the signal role of Providence, enabling him to discuss victories with seeming humility. Unquestionably Washington believed that Providence watched out for the United States of America and for him. Early in the war he told his brother Samuel that he had “a perfect reliance upon that Providence which heretofore has befriended and smiled upon me.”47 It’s worth noting that Washington didn’t see humans as passive actors and believed that God helped those who helped themselves: “Providence has done much for us in this contest,” he said later in the war, “but we must do something for ourselves, if we expect to go triumphantly through with it.”48
AS A MAN LADEN WITH MANY SECRETS who unburdened himself to only a small circle of confidants, Washington had to hide moments of despondency from the army, giving few people access to his private grief. In the spring of 1777 a secondhand report reached Lord Howe’s ears that a maid in Washington’s employ “frequently caught him in tears about the house and [said] that, when he is alone, he appears constantly dejected and unhappy.”49 Washington weathered the winter’s stern rigors, only to buckle beneath a ten-day illness in early March that left him so weakened that he dealt only with essential business. His army of Continental soldiers had thinned to a paltry 2,500 men. It must have been a huge relief to him when Martha arrived in camp in mid-March. She had long since bowed to her fate as faithful helpmeet, the person who could cater to his emotional needs and create an entertaining social life. It helped that she had struck up a warm rapport with his military family.
Martha set about to get her husband to relax and enjoy the convivial society of several ladies. She organized cordial dinners, pleasant jaunts on horseback, and other lighthearted escapes. Everyone watched the commander in chief visibly brighten in her presence, confirming that theirs was a happy marriage. A young French aristocrat shortly to arrive at camp, the Marquis de Lafayette, viewed Martha as “a modest and respectable person, who loves her husband madly.”50 A sharp-eyed newcomer to the scene, Martha Daingerfield Bland, wife of a Virginia colonel, corroborated the “perfect felicity” between the Washingtons.51 Mrs. Bland enjoyed the outings on horseback, which gave her a chance to ogle the personable young aides—“all polite sociable gentlemen,” as she informed her sister-in-law Fanny. She seemed especially attracted to Hamilton, describing him as “a sensible, genteel, polite young fellow, a West Indian.”52 Most of all she was positively smitten with Washington: “Now let me speak of our noble and agreeable commander (for he commands both sexes), one by his excellent skill in military matters, the other by his ability, politeness, and attention.”53 Washington had a teasing, flirtatious nature, she hinted; with attractive young women, there was nothing dour about him. At riding parties, she wrote, “General Washington throws off the Hero and takes on the chatty, agreeable companion. He can be downright impudent sometimes—such impudence, Fanny, as you and I like.”54