Washington [408]
Washington fretted over the design of the new government, which was still formless. From the Confederation Congress, he had inherited four departments—Foreign Affairs, War, Post Office, and the Board of Treasury—that would report to Congress until new departments were created; meanwhile they kept Washington up to date with reports. Only lightly did the Constitution sketch in the contours of the executive branch, giving Washington freedom to maneuver. In the summer of 1789 Congress created in rapid succession the Department of Foreign Affairs (soon renamed the State Department), the War Department, and then the Treasury Department in September. Assigned to lower rungs were the offices of the attorney general, who would advise the president on constitutional matters, and the postmaster general, who would preside over post offices and postal roads. That these departments belonged to the executive, not to the legislative branch, as under the Articles of Confederation, signaled a major shift in the American polity.
While the Constitution talked about executive departments, it made no reference to a cabinet, stipulating only that the president could request “the opinion, in writing” of department heads.6 Once again constitutional brevity presented an opportunity for Washington. At first he drew on the model of his wartime councils, requesting opinions from department heads, but this differed from the true cohesion of a cabinet that met to thrash out policy. As Alexander Hamilton, the first treasury secretary, later told a British minister, “We have no cabinet and the heads of departments meet on very particular occasions only.”7 Thomas Jefferson, the first secretary of state, would dub Washington “the hub of the wheel,” with the department heads arrayed like brilliant spokes around him.8
In choosing those heads, Washington surrounded himself with a small but decidedly stellar group. With his own renown secure, he had no fear that subordinates would upstage him and never wanted subservient courtiers whom he could overshadow. Aware of his defective education, he felt secure in having the best minds at his disposal. He excelled as a leader precisely because he was able to choose and orchestrate bright, strong personalities. As Gouverneur Morris observed, Washington knew “how best to use the rays” given off by the sparkling geniuses at his command. 9 As the first president, Washington assembled a group of luminaries without equal in American history; his first cabinet more than made up in intellectual fire-power what it lacked in numbers.
The one holdover from a previous executive department was Henry Knox, who was confirmed as secretary of war in early September. Washington retained his old wartime affection for Knox and used the word love to describe his feelings for his rotund friend. A few years earlier Washington had told Knox that he should “be assured that, to correspond with those I love is among my highest gratifications, and I persuade myself you will not doubt my sincerity when I assure you, I place you among the foremost of this class.”10 Expert at fending off political pressure, Washington established a rule that nobody could discuss political appointments with him unless he first brought up the topic. Frustrated by this rule, Roger Sherman of Connecticut asked Hamilton if he would champion a certain appointment with the president. “No, I dare not do it,” Hamilton replied. “I know General Washington too well. But I can tell you where your only hope lies. Go to General Knox. They say Washington talks to him as a man does with his wife.”11 With his hearty appetite and ebullient personality, Henry Knox stood forth as an immense social presence in the new administration. Maclay aptly referred to him as “a Bacchanalian figure.”12
On most political issues, Washington saw eye to eye with Knox, who had labored hard for the new Constitution. But Knox was destined to