Washington [405]
The first formal clash between Washington and Congress arose on August 5, 1789, when the Senate rejected Washington’s nomination of Benjamin Fishbourn as collector of the Port of Savannah. Though still ailing, Washington made his way to Federal Hall and mounted to the second-floor Senate chamber, decorated on its ceiling with thirteen stars and suns. Washington’s unexpected entrance stunned the legislators. Undoubtedly feeling a bit befuddled, Vice President Adams rose from his canopied chair of crimson velvet and offered it to Washington, who then proceeded to upbraid the twenty-two members of the Senate, demanding to know why they had spurned his appointee. “The president showed [a] great want of temper . . . when one of his nominations was rejected,” said Senator Ralph Izard of South Carolina. 19 It was an unusual public display of emotion by Washington.
After a long, awkward silence, Senator James Gunn of Georgia, whose state included Savannah, rose and from “personal respect for the personal character of Gen[era]l Washington” explained his opposition to Fishbourn.20 At the same time he wanted it understood that the Senate felt no obligation to explain its reasoning to the president. The episode marked the start of “senatorial courtesy,” whereby senators reserved the right to block nominations in their home states. Despite Gunn’s respectful treatment, Washington went off in a great huff, and Tobias Lear said that as soon as he returned from the Senate, he “expressed his very great regret for having gone there.”21
This skirmish turned out to be trifling compared to the conflict over Indian policy some weeks later. The episode began in mid-June, when Henry Knox, secretary of war, wrote a well-meaning letter to Washington, fleshing out a farsighted approach to Indian affairs. Noting the bloody battles between Indians and American settlers on the frontier, Knox declared that the Indians, as rightful owners of the land, should not be deprived of it by violence or coercion. Rather, he advocated paying them for their land and concentrating them in a system of federally protected enclaves. Knox wanted to initiate this policy by negotiating a treaty with Alexander McGillivray, chief of the Creek Nation, whose hunting grounds extended over parts of modern-day Georgia, Florida, Alabama, and Mississippi. The corrupt Georgia legislature was ready to make a mockery of any enlightened policy toward the Indians by selling to speculators millions of acres claimed by the Creeks and other southern tribes.
In early August Knox informed Washington that he had worked out a treaty with the Creeks, including several secret articles. Among other things, Knox wanted the executive branch to dominate Indian affairs as a way of bolstering presidential authority. As part of the treaty process, Washington planned to send a three-man commission to broker peace between Georgia and the Creeks, but when Knox drew up instructions for this parley, Washington thought he needed to consult the Senate about them. This time, instead of pouncing unexpectedly, he gave ample warning of his visit. He interpreted the “advice and consent” requirement