Washington: A Life by Ron Chernow (Review)
I was long disinterested in learning more about George Washington for the exact reasons that Chernow addressed in the introduction: he was a man that history casts more as a polished granite statue rather than a man of flesh. Washington can also come across as someone more often respected rather than loved. In the past, this perception led me to skip Washington in favor of Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Franklin, and Hamilton. I even bypassed Washington for lesser characters like Benjamin Rush and Marquises de Lafayette. Yet Chernow once again weaves biographical facts and historical events into a rich story that lends insight into the flesh and blood that made the man.
Chernow made a significant point by noting that England repeatedly denied George Washington a commission in the royal army. Despite Washington showing early talent as a military leader, Chernow speculated that a bias against the colonists as second-tier British subjects had a major effect on galvanizing the leaders of the revolution. In that vein, the combination of Britain’s policies on colonial currency, land expansion, and taxation further drove colonial leaders to revolution.
Those who knew Washington best repeatedly described him with language that aligned with Benjamin Franklin’s maxim: “let all men know thee, but let no man know thee thoroughly.” He was endlessly hospitable yet always guarded despite making others feel fully welcome and appreciated. Washington advised his nephew that friendship is to be like a plant of slow growth with very few intimates throughout his life. It is the space between Franklin’s maxim that makes this biography so important: Washington’s enigmatic nature requires a writer like Chernow to help today’s readers better understand who he was and which of his virtues are worth emulating.
While I find other contemporaries of George Washington more interesting, this assessment has more to do with Washington’s personality rather than Chernow’s writing. Chernow’s compelling writing places him at a pinnacle-level historian for understanding important figures, and I recommend Washington: A Life for anyone who wants a deep-dive look at the foundations of the United States. This biography is the fourth book I’ve read by Chernow after Alexander Hamilton, Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr., and The House of Morgan: An American Banking Dynasty and the Rise of Modern Finance. In each book, Chernow builds a framework to not only understand the individual subject but also the era and events that shape history. Better yet, he does so through rich storytelling that keeps engagement from start to finish.
With this recommendation in place, here are some of the lessons I found interesting in Washington:
In Chernow’s introduction to Washington, he described the image of a man hewn in marble from his inception. This perception of Washington as an impenetrable stoic makes the contrast of Washington’s diversions all the more interesting. For as often as Washington appears in depictions of the United States’ birth, the descriptions of him as a host, a horseman, a hunter, a dancer, and a theatergoer are seldom part of that picture. Though often compared to Cincinnatus as the general who retired to farm, even Washington’s history as an active farmer who worked side-by-side with the men at Mount Vernon is not how I previously envisioned George Washington.
Chernow added great insight into Martha Washington and how she served a critical role of confidante to General Washington. She joined the continental army during the winter months, and many observed how much Washington’s spirits improved whoever Martha was in the camp. It took a hardy and committed woman to encamp in the spartan camps during the winter months.
Throughout Washington: A Life, Chernow explores Washington’s evolving views on slavery. Chernow never excused Washington’s posture on slavery but instead charted how he changed. Some movement came out of necessity like needing black soldiers to supplement the continental army. Some movement came out of winsomeness, like the heroic service of his valet, Billy Lee, or the poetry of Phillis Wheatley, a Boston slave who Wheatley wrote a poem entitled, “To His Excellency, George Washington.” The poem helped Wheatley grow in fame, which led to a meeting between the poet and Washington. These interactions did not lead Washington to stand as an abolitionist, but Chernow gave a nuanced description of Washington in relation to this tragic element of U.S. history.
There is an interesting contrast between General Washington’s strengths as a leader and man of character versus his relative weakness as a military strategist. The latter is minimized by history because the former is so noteworthy. It would be an interesting study in leadership to evaluate whether character and loyalty sustains a person’s reputation and longevity even in the absence of sound strategy. Of course, that’s largely dependent on landing on the winning side, but Washington presents a forceful example worth considering.
As the British occupied New York City, they were convinced that only their presence could maintain law and order. Yet after they departed, one soldier briefly returned to retrieve forgotten items. He observed, “Now that gone, everything is in quietness and safety. The Americans are a curious, original people. They know how to govern themselves. But nobody else can govern them.”
In 1817, Congress commissioned John Trumbull to produce four paintings that portrayed the Revolutionary War. While the signing of the Declaration of Independence is the most famous, Trumbull felt most strongly about capturing General Washington resigning his commission. He saw that moment as “one of the highest moral lessons ever given to the world.” It was Trumbull’s recommendation to capture the scene. When he shared the idea with James Madison, the president responded, “I believe you are right; it was a glorious action.” Though laying down of power has long been the norm in the United States, we should never understate the significance of General Washington willingly forgoing power. As King George III commented prior to Washington’s resignation, “If he does that [give up his commission], he will be the greatest man in the world.”
Chernow’s exploration of Washington and slavery presented a man of deep conflict. On one side stood his staunch principles of liberty and great capacity for action—on the other was a debt-laden planter who refused to move toward liberty for the enslaved people living in the land he had freed. As Chernow noted, with some audiences, Washington was ardently for abolition and plagued by guilt. With others, Washington offered nothing but platitudes about his hope that someday the system would change. These tensions highlight what makes Chernow such an effective biographer and historian.
I have great admiration for the traits Abigail Adams used to describe George Washington: “He is polite with dignity, affable without formality, distant without haughtiness, grace without austerity—modest, wise, and good.”
I similarly appreciate Washington’s effort to surround himself by excellence and not sycophants. He saw his greatest strength as prudence, and this played out with deliberation and care. Hamilton did not see Washington as a first-rate mind of creativity like a Bacon or Locke, but he noted that Washington’s judgment was sounder than all.
While I put off reading more about George Washington for many years, I’m grateful to Ron Chernow crafting such an engaging analysis of our first president. The American Revolution remains one of my favorite subjects and I have a more complete picture of the enigmatic man who gave so much to unite the states. I recommend Washington: A Life as I do all of the books I’ve read by Ron Chernow.
