You Never Forget Your First

You Never Forget Your First Plot Summary

Introduction

In the depths of a harsh winter at Valley Forge in 1777, a tall figure on horseback moved among ragged, freezing soldiers. Despite facing near-certain defeat against the world's greatest military power, George Washington somehow managed to hold together an army—and ultimately, a nation. This scene represents just one pivotal moment in the extraordinary journey of a man who would become America's first and most consequential president. Beyond the marble monuments and mythological stories lies a complex individual whose life reveals essential truths about America's founding. The traditional narrative often portrays Washington as an inevitable hero, born to greatness. However, the reality presents someone far more human—a land-hungry Virginia planter who reluctantly answered the call to service, a commander who lost more battles than he won, and a president who navigated treacherous partisan divisions while establishing precedents that would shape the republic for centuries. Through examining Washington's journey from ambitious colonial to revolutionary leader to elder statesman, we gain insight into the painful birth of American democracy and the personal sacrifices required to transform revolutionary ideals into lasting institutions. This historical account will appeal to anyone seeking to understand how nations are formed, how revolutions succeed or fail, and how leadership in crisis can transform both individuals and societies.

Chapter 1: From Ambitious Colonial to Revolutionary Leader (1732-1775)

Born in 1732 to Augustine and Mary Ball Washington in Virginia, young George Washington's early life was marked by loss and self-improvement. When his father died in 1743, eleven-year-old George lost the opportunity for formal education abroad that his older half-brothers had enjoyed. Instead, under his mother's practical guidance, he taught himself mathematics and surveying—skills that would lay the foundation for his future. By his early twenties, Washington had established himself as an ambitious colonial seeking advancement through military service to the British Crown. His first significant military experience came during the French and Indian War, where he unwittingly sparked what some historians consider the first global conflict. In 1754, while leading Virginia militiamen in the Ohio territory, Washington ambushed a French diplomatic party led by Joseph Coulon de Jumonville, killing the commander and several others. This incident, which Washington initially described as a victory against French aggression, was viewed by the French as an assassination of a diplomat on a peaceful mission. The ensuing conflict expanded into a worldwide war between imperial powers. Despite military setbacks, Washington's frontier experiences transformed him from an eager young officer into a seasoned leader with growing reservations about British authority. His frustrations mounted as he witnessed British officers receiving preferential treatment despite his own greater experience in frontier warfare. When he requested a commission in the regular British Army, he was denied, a slight that stung his pride and planted seeds of resentment toward the imperial hierarchy. Washington's 1759 marriage to the wealthy widow Martha Custis marked his transition from military man to gentleman planter. At Mount Vernon, he expanded his estate, experimented with crops, and managed hundreds of enslaved people. Yet even as a successful planter, he confronted the economic constraints of the colonial system, which forced Americans to ship raw materials to England and purchase finished goods at inflated prices. British economic policies like the Stamp Act of 1765 and the Townshend Acts further antagonized colonial elites like Washington, who increasingly viewed Parliament's actions as tyrannical. By 1774, as tensions between Britain and the colonies escalated, Washington had evolved from a loyal British subject to a cautious revolutionary. When he wrote that Parliament was using "despotism to fix the Shackles of Slavery upon us," he employed language that, while ironic given his own role as a slave owner, reflected his growing conviction that Britain's actions threatened colonists' liberties. His appointment as a Virginia delegate to the Continental Congress in 1774 positioned him at the center of a brewing rebellion. Though he rarely spoke during debates, his imposing physical presence in his old militia uniform sent a clear message: this experienced military man was prepared to lead if conflict came. In June 1775, after fighting had broken out at Lexington and Concord, the Continental Congress unanimously selected Washington as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, launching him irrevocably into revolution.

Chapter 2: The Burdens of Command: Winning Independence (1775-1783)

From 1775 to 1783, Washington bore the immense burden of leading a fledgling army against the world's greatest military power. When he took command beneath an elm tree in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in July 1775, the task before him seemed nearly impossible. His Continental Army consisted largely of untrained farmers and tradesmen, facing professional British soldiers and Hessian mercenaries. Resources were scarce, Congress was reluctant to grant him authority, and the concept of American nationhood remained fragile. Yet over eight grueling years, Washington would transform this ragtag collection of militias into a force capable of securing American independence. Washington's military genius lay not in battlefield tactics—he lost more battles than he won—but in his strategic vision and political savvy. He understood that he didn't need to defeat Britain outright; he simply needed to avoid catastrophic defeat and keep his army intact. His greatest military achievements came from recognizing moments of opportunity, as when he crossed the Delaware River on Christmas night 1776 to surprise Hessian forces at Trenton, delivering a badly needed victory that revitalized the revolutionary cause. Later, at Yorktown in 1781, he seized the opportunity created by the arrival of French naval forces to trap Lord Cornwallis's army, forcing a British surrender that effectively ended the war. Behind Washington's public composure lay a sophisticated understanding of propaganda and diplomacy. He carefully cultivated his image, ensuring that American newspapers portrayed British atrocities while highlighting patriot valor. He organized an effective intelligence network, running spies like the Culper Ring in British-occupied New York. When British commanders addressed him as "Mr. Washington" rather than by his military title, he refused their correspondence, understanding that acceptance would undermine the legitimacy of the American cause. Such diplomatic maneuvers proved as crucial as military engagements in securing recognition of American sovereignty. The personal cost of command weighed heavily on Washington. For eight years, he saw his family only briefly. Mount Vernon fell into disrepair in his absence. When his beloved stepdaughter Patsy died in 1773, he was devastated; when British ships approached Mount Vernon in 1781, several of his enslaved people seized the opportunity to escape to freedom. The strain of leadership etched itself into his face, aged him prematurely, and tested his legendary self-control. In 1783, when some officers angered by Congressional neglect suggested a military takeover, Washington defused the crisis with an emotional appeal, reportedly saying as he donned his reading glasses: "Gentlemen, you must pardon me. I have grown gray in your service and now find myself growing blind." Perhaps Washington's most consequential decision came after victory was secured. On December 23, 1783, in a ceremony at the Maryland State House in Annapolis, he formally resigned his commission to Congress. This extraordinary act—voluntarily surrendering power when he could have used the army to establish personal rule—astonished contemporaries. King George III reportedly remarked that if Washington resigned rather than seizing power, "he will be the greatest man in the world." In an age when revolutions typically gave way to military dictatorship, Washington's voluntary relinquishment of authority established a precedent for civilian control of the military that would become fundamental to American democracy. As he rode home to Mount Vernon, hoping for a peaceful retirement, he left behind an independent nation still uncertain about its future governance.

Chapter 3: Forging a Nation: Constitutional Leadership and Presidency (1783-1793)

Following the Revolutionary War, Washington retreated to Mount Vernon, hoping to enjoy the private life of a gentleman farmer. From 1783 to 1787, he focused on agricultural innovations, entertaining a steady stream of visitors, and managing his estate. However, as the new nation floundered under the weak Articles of Confederation, Washington grew increasingly alarmed. States squabbled over trade and boundaries, the national government couldn't pay its debts, and Shays' Rebellion in Massachusetts raised the specter of anarchy. Though reluctant to reenter public life, Washington recognized the crisis as he wrote to a friend: "We are either a United people, or we are not. If the former, let us act as a Nation; if we are not, let us no longer act a farce by pretending to it." In 1787, Washington allowed himself to be persuaded to attend the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia, where delegates unanimously elected him president of the proceedings. His presence lent crucial legitimacy to the gathering. Though he rarely spoke during debates, Washington's quiet authority influenced deliberations, particularly regarding the creation of a strong executive office. The delegates crafted this presidency with Washington in mind, believing that only his character and reputation could make the office viable. When the Constitution was completed, Washington was the first to sign it, lending his immense prestige to the document's ratification campaign. The electoral college unanimously chose Washington as the first president in 1789. Taking office in New York City, he faced the monumental task of establishing a functioning government where none had existed before. Every decision—from the title he would use to the protocol for receiving foreign dignitaries—created precedents for future presidents. Washington assembled a talented cabinet, including Thomas Jefferson as Secretary of State and Alexander Hamilton as Treasury Secretary, whose conflicting visions would shape American politics for generations. He established the principle that presidents should seek advice from department heads while retaining final decision-making authority, creating the framework for executive governance that continues today. Washington's presidency witnessed the implementation of Hamilton's financial system, which assumed state debts, established a national bank, and created a stable currency. These measures laid the foundation for American economic development but sparked intense controversy. Jefferson and his ally James Madison feared the concentration of financial power and saw in Hamilton's policies an attempt to replicate British monarchical structures. Washington, though personally sympathetic to Hamilton's vision, tried to remain above partisan fray, believing that national unity was essential to the young republic's survival. By 1792, despite his desire to retire, Washington reluctantly accepted a second term. His reelection was unanimous, but the political landscape had dramatically shifted. The ideological divide between Hamilton and Jefferson had hardened into nascent political parties—Federalists and Democratic-Republicans—that would define American politics for decades. Washington found his cherished vision of national unity increasingly difficult to maintain as partisan newspapers attacked administration policies and foreign affairs complicated domestic politics. The French Revolution particularly divided Americans, with Jefferson's supporters embracing it while Hamilton's allies recoiled from its excesses. Washington's 1793 Neutrality Proclamation, declaring American impartiality in European conflicts, antagonized both sides and subjected him to unprecedented public criticism.

Chapter 4: Challenges of Unity: Navigating Partisan Divisions (1793-1797)

Washington's second term (1793-1797) was marked by escalating partisan conflict that tested his leadership and threatened the fragile American experiment. As revolutionary France and monarchical Britain engaged in warfare, Americans divided sharply in their sympathies. Washington's commitment to neutrality, formalized in his 1793 proclamation, drew criticism from both sides. Federalists accused him of insufficient support for Britain, while Democratic-Republicans condemned his alleged betrayal of America's French allies. The arrival of French ambassador Edmond Genêt, who attempted to rally Americans to France's cause in defiance of Washington's policy, created a diplomatic crisis that further inflamed domestic tensions. The partisan divide widened through successive crises. When western Pennsylvania farmers rebelled against a whiskey tax in 1794, Washington personally led a militia force to suppress what he viewed as insurrection. His forceful response alienated many Americans who sympathized with the farmers' grievances. The Jay Treaty with Britain in 1795, negotiated to resolve ongoing disputes over northwestern territories and maritime rights, provoked even fiercer opposition. Critics denounced the treaty's terms as favorable to Britain at America's expense, and Washington faced unprecedented public vilification. Thomas Paine, once Washington's ally, published an open letter calling him "treacherous in private friendship" and "a hypocrite in public life." Washington's cabinet underwent dramatic changes as partisan divisions intensified. Jefferson resigned as Secretary of State in 1793, followed by Hamilton as Treasury Secretary in 1795. When evidence emerged suggesting that Secretary of State Edmund Randolph might have disclosed confidential information to the French, Washington confronted him harshly, leading to Randolph's resignation and a bitter public feud. By 1796, Washington's second cabinet consisted entirely of Federalist sympathizers, reflecting his growing disillusionment with political opposition. He wrote candidly to Secretary of State Timothy Pickering that appointing someone with adverse political views would be "a sort of political suicide." The bitter partisanship wore heavily on Washington. He had envisioned a unified government of enlightened statesmen pursuing the national interest; instead, he presided over increasingly factional conflicts. Though he maintained public composure, private correspondence reveals his frustration with what he viewed as unfair attacks on his character and policies. As one visitor observed, "He is also extremely affected by the attacks made and kept up on him in the public papers. I think he feels those things more than any person I ever yet met with." In September 1796, Washington published his Farewell Address, announcing his retirement and offering a final statement of his political philosophy. This remarkable document, drafted with help from Hamilton and drawing on earlier work by Madison, warned against "the baneful effects of the spirit of party" and the dangers of permanent foreign alliances. Washington cautioned that partisan excesses could lead to despotism, as "cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people, and to usurp for themselves the reins of government." His warnings against excessive partisanship and entangling foreign alliances would be cited by generations of American leaders. Washington's departure from office in March 1797 established another crucial precedent: the peaceful transfer of power following a democratic election. This transition, unprecedented in an era when most nations were governed by hereditary monarchs, demonstrated that America's republican experiment could survive beyond its founding generation. As John Adams took the oath of office, Washington quietly departed Philadelphia for Mount Vernon, leaving behind a nation transformed by his leadership but increasingly divided along lines that would shape its future development.

Chapter 5: Legacy and Reflection: The Man Beyond the Monument (1797-1799)

In his final retirement at Mount Vernon from 1797 to 1799, Washington confronted the complexities of his legacy while attempting to restore his neglected estate. Though only 65 when he left office, years of wartime hardship and presidential burden had aged him considerably. He approached this period with characteristic discipline, rising before dawn to inspect his farms, corresponding with friends and associates, and entertaining a steady stream of visitors. Yet beneath this methodical routine lay a man reckoning with mortality and the meaning of his extraordinary life. Mount Vernon itself presented challenges that mirrored the nation's contradictions. The plantation had fallen into disrepair during Washington's absences, requiring extensive renovation. While he invested in agricultural innovations and architectural improvements, he remained dependent on the labor of over 300 enslaved people. This reality formed the most troubling aspect of Washington's legacy. Though he had privately expressed misgivings about slavery and had stopped buying slaves decades earlier, he had taken minimal public action against the institution during his presidency. In his final years, Washington wrestled with this contradiction, ultimately deciding in his will to free his slaves after Martha's death. This provision—though flawed by its delay and its exclusion of the "dower slaves" who belonged to Martha's estate—distinguished Washington as the only major Founding Father to liberate his enslaved workers through his will. Washington's retirement was repeatedly interrupted by political crises. When tensions with revolutionary France escalated into the "Quasi-War" of 1798-1800, President Adams appointed Washington commander of a provisional army, forcing him to devote considerable energy to military planning. Partisan newspapers continued to scrutinize his actions, and former colleagues like Thomas Jefferson worked behind the scenes to dismantle his Federalist legacy. Washington, who had once envisioned retirement as an escape from politics, found himself unable to disentangle from the nation he had helped create. On December 12, 1799, after riding around his estate in cold, wet weather, Washington developed a severe throat infection. Within 48 hours, despite the attentions of several physicians (whose treatments, including repeated bloodletting, likely hastened his decline), he was dead. His final moments reflected the dignity and self-control that had characterized his public life. According to his secretary Tobias Lear, Washington had instructed his doctors to "let me go quietly," recognizing that death was near. His last words were reportedly "'Tis well," suggesting a final acceptance of his fate. News of Washington's death prompted unprecedented national mourning. Congress declared a thirty-day period of official grief, and memorial services occurred throughout the country. Even in Britain, the Royal Navy lowered its flags to half-mast. The eulogies celebrated Washington as "first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen," beginning the transformation of the man into the marble monument that would complicate later understandings of his life and character. The nation Washington left behind was still fragile, deeply divided along partisan lines that would soon produce the contentious election of 1800. Yet the constitutional framework he had helped establish and the presidential precedents he had created provided stability during this transition. Perhaps his most consequential legacy was the example of republican leadership he had provided—accepting power reluctantly, exercising it judiciously, and relinquishing it willingly. In an age when revolutions typically ended in dictatorship or chaos, Washington had demonstrated that republican government could function through peaceful transitions of authority. As Napoleon Bonaparte reportedly remarked years later, "They wanted me to be another Washington."

Summary

Throughout his remarkable journey from colonial military officer to revolutionary general to the nation's first president, Washington embodied a central paradox of American identity: the tension between personal ambition and public service. His life reveals how the American republic emerged not as an inevitability but through painful compromise and personal sacrifice. Washington's most significant contribution was not military victory or policy achievement, but rather his willingness to surrender power when he could have claimed it for life. This precedent—established when he resigned his military commission in 1783 and reinforced when he declined a third presidential term—created the foundation for America's democratic transfer of power. The lessons from Washington's life remain profoundly relevant today. First, leadership in a republic requires balancing personal conviction with respect for institutional constraints—Washington's refusal to exceed constitutional authority, despite opportunities and encouragement to do so, strengthened rather than diminished his effectiveness. Second, democratic systems depend not just on written constitutions but on unwritten norms of behavior—Washington's voluntary presidential retirement created a two-term tradition that would guide presidents until Franklin Roosevelt and eventually be codified in the Twenty-Second Amendment. Finally, Washington's struggles with slavery remind us that even the most admirable historical figures were products of their time who failed to fully transcend contemporary prejudices. This recognition should inspire not cynicism about America's founding ideals, but rather humility about our own moral blindness and renewed commitment to extending liberty to all. Washington's legacy invites us to engage with American history not through simplistic hero-worship or dismissive condemnation, but through thoughtful consideration of how democratic principles emerge, evolve, and endure through the actions of imperfect human beings confronting the challenges of their age.

About Author

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Alexis Coe

Alexis Coe is the author of YOU NEVER FORGET YOUR FIRST and ALICE+FREDA FOREVER, a host of PRESIDENTS ARE PEOPLE TOO and NO MAN'S LAND. She's a producer on Doris Kearns Goodwin's forthcoming Washington series on the History Channel and a consultant on the adaptation of her first book. She has frequently appeared on CNN and the History Channel, and has written for the New York Times, the New Yorker, and many others.

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