On the eve of Inauguration Day, 2021, it is worthwhile exploring two letters from April 1789 in the Liberty Hall Collection in the Kean University Special Collections Research Library and Archives. Both letters contain details about the excitement in New York in anticipation of the inauguration of George Washington and the ceremonies of that momentous event. As the country again prepares to watch and listen as the President takes the oath of office, some of those ceremonies will sound familiar, but his year they will occur in an atmosphere unlike any other in the nation's history.
Elizabeth Hyde, Ph.D., Chair, Department of History
On 19 April 1789, Robert Barnwell (who in 1788 succeeded John Kean in representing South Carolina in the Continental Congress), wrote to Kean who had returned to his home in Beaufort, South Carolina, to report on the anticipated arrival in New York City of George Washington for his inauguration as the first president of the United States. In the letter, which survives in the Liberty Hall Collection in the Kean University Special Collections Research Library and Archives, [1] Barnwell wrote that Washington would be met by “. . . a Committee of Congress in a most magnificent Barge (a present of the City) whose thirteen symbolical oars are to sweep her across the Hudson . . . .” on the opposite shore of which he would be met by New York State officials and conveyed to his house by the governor and mayor.
He would be received by the Militia with “Feu de Joys” (ceremonial firing of weapons) while the city would be lit with “illuminations” and the sky would “blase [sic] with Fire Works” to celebrate Washington being sworn into the “office which is like the key of the Arch is to bind our Continent together.”
Washington had been unanimously elected to the newly created office of President by the constitutionally mandated Electoral College, the results of which became known on 6 April 1789 when a quorum assembled in New York to formally tally the votes. Informed of his new office, Washington departed Mount Vernon for what would be a ceremonial journey, as he was greeted formally and feted all along the way.
When he reached New Jersey, via Trenton, for example, he passed under a triumphal arch and was greeted, in a grand display of “republican motherhood, by women of Trenton and their daughters, dressed in white, who scattered flowers along Washington’s path and serenaded him with a congratulatory song. Washington formally thanked the “matrons and young ladies” for creating a scene in such contrast to the Battle of Trenton that he proclaimed that the memory of it “would never be effaced.” [2] Nathanial Currier (of Currier and Ives) would depict the event in print decades later in 1845. From Trenton, Washington travelled across New Jersey, eventually reaching Elizabeth from which he would depart for New York on the ceremonial barge described by Barnwell.
The plans Barnwell outlined were carried out, and on 30 April 1789, George Washington was sworn in as President of the United State by Robert R. Livingston, Chancellor of New York, (and cousin of our own William Livingston) on the balcony of Federal Hall. Barnwell’s description makes clear that the Framers were deliberate in choreographing a ceremony appropriate for the new republic.
Aspects of what would become the “scriptures” of American patriotism were already taking form before the American Revolution had ended. In 1781, for example, the New Jersey Gazette reported that the women of Princeton decorated their homes with flowers and garlands, while the “principal men of the town” met at a tavern for “a few draughts of good punch” with His Excellency, Governor Livingston, after which the inhabitants of the town brought their weapons to a nearby field where they fired a 13-gun salute, with celebratory “toasts” read before each round of fire. [3] In July 1783, William Livingston’s daughter, Sarah Livingston Jay, wrote from Passy in France (where John Jay was still negotiating the terms of the Treaty of Paris that would end the American Revolution), “On the 4th of July we celebrated the Anniversary of our Independance here at Passey [sic], but the next I hope to celebrate in yr. company, & I’m sure that our pleasure will not be less animated even tho’ we shou’d substitute buttermilk in lieu of champagne to commemorate the illustrious event.” She enclosed a “copy of the toasts Mr. Jay prepar’d for the occasion.” Despite the French champagne (as opposed to American buttermilk), Sarah wrote that the celebrations could not dull “a painful sensation” and she “found it difficult to suppress the tears that where ready to flow to the memory of those who in struggling to procure that happiness for their Country . . . had fallen in the glorious attempt.”[4]
The inauguration of a president, however, required more than just toasts. The Framers were not unfamiliar with the importance of ritual and symbolism to creating political power and identity. European monarchs, for centuries, had cultivated the notion of divine right through the anointing of the royal body with holy oil, a ritual argument that its power came from God. The power of the monarchy was constant: “The king is dead, long live the king” meant the continuity of royal power between the death of one monarch and the crowning of the next. For this new American government, the Constitution was the constant, and every four years, the oath of office would be repeated and renewed in a public ceremony befitting a new kind of governance, an executive—the keystone in the arch—whose sovereignty was drawn from the people. The Framers, of course, dictated an unacceptably narrowly notion of who constituted “the people,” excluding women, African Americans who would remain enslaved for decades longer, and men who could not meet property qualifications, which has taken the lifespan of our democracy to fix. Yet fundamentally, people from different states voluntarily come together to form by social compact a unified nation. That the president elect was conveyed to the inaugural location by the power of 13 oarsmen, a deliberate reference to the unity of the thirteen states that constituted the United States, was purposeful. So, too, was the public performance of the oath on the balcony of Federal Hall in which the president was asked to swear to uphold the Constitution. Washington took the oath with his hand on a Bible, after which Robert Livingston proclaimed, “Long live George Washington, the President of the United States.”
Since the creation of Washington, D.C. as the Capitol of the nation, inaugural ceremonies have taken place there, with Thomas Jefferson’s being the first in 1801. And now, it is the people of the United States who make political pilgrimages every four years to witness the peaceful transfer of power from the vantage point of the most public of American landscapes, the National Mall. Originally planned by Pierre l’Enfant as a parade ground setting off the federal buildings under construction in the new Capitol, the Mall has become the space most illustrative of the freedom of speech and participatory democracy in America. It is the space where Americans make themselves seen as they demand the expansion of equal rights to an ever broadening (but still not fully achieved) definition of “the People”, most iconically and importantly in the 1963 “I Have a Dream” March led by Martin Luther King, Jr. in demanding civil rights for African Americans. And most numerously and peacefully in the Women’s March on 21 January 2017 to express to President Trump, on his first full day in office, that his divisive policy goals and discriminatory views were not shared by the majority of Americans. And it is the place where every four years Americans gather to bear witness to the peaceful transfer of power. As many as 1.8 million people (including two busloads of Kean students and History faculty) converged on the Mall to see Democrat Barack Obama sworn in as the first African American president of the United States.”
This year, however, the National Mall will be empty. The raging COVID-19 pandemic would have made such a gathering medically unwise. But in the wake of the attack on the Capitol by domestic terrorists in an insurrection aimed at preventing that peaceful transfer of power from President Trump to President-Elect Biden, authorities have deemed a public ceremony too dangerous, the safety of the President-Elect too difficult to ensure. Modern technology will ensure, however, that the American people pay witness to the ability of our Constitution and democracy to withstand the most un-democratic of protests.
Jonathan Mercantini, Ph.D., Acting Dean, College of Liberal Arts
The threat of violence hanging over the inauguration of Joe Biden as the forty-sixth President of the United States casts a pall over what should be a moment of hope. These letters from New York City in April of 1789, on the eve of the first presidential inauguration, express optimism for the new nation. They also, however, demonstrate that our late eighteenth century forbearers shared many of the concerns we have today.
As Washington was met by the militia, among others, Biden will find 20,000 National Guard troops to receive and also protect him in Washington, D.C. Sadly, it seems that the entire city will not meet him with smiles and “the most grateful of receptions.” Yet, the hopes and wishes of Robert Barnwell, “May Concord encircle us with her silken bands. May its ends be united by the hands of peace,” are the hopes of many Americans optimistic that the new administration will be able to heal some of the division that is threatening our country like few other times in the nation’s history.
As Barnwell concludes, “At Home may justice preside with policy, and may the welfare of the whole Continent be the Polar Star of our government.”
While the effusive prose may seem a bit much, the inauguration of George Washington was seen as a momentous event. And the sentiments surrounding each inauguration have, in some way, re-energized the country every four years. None of the hopes expressed in 1789 would feel out of place today.
In the other letter, Beaumanoir DeLaForest starts her letter to Mrs. Susan Kean by informing her that her daughter has just been inoculated against the Small Pox. The parallels to today are obvious as Americans nationwide await their opportunity to receive the COVID-19 vaccine.
She adds that the President’s house will be the same as previous Presidents (of the Confederation Congress) but “they work in it now to have it cleaner and a little bit better.” No doubt the White House will be given a thorough cleaning (if not a complete exorcism) prior to Mr. and Dr. Biden taking up residence.
At this moment it can be hard to be optimistic about the future. Appeals to an American ‘greatness’ or a sense that the country is at its best in times of trial rightly feel hollow especially upon a deeper examination of American history and the present moment. Still, though, the words of those present at the first inauguration ring true today. And perhaps in two hundred more years, looking back at this inauguration, as power transferred from a president that had been twice impeached to one who carried hopes of healing and reunification, words of optimism would again be prescient.
Kean University Special Collections Research Library and Archive
The mission of the Kean University Special Collections Research Library and Archive is to preserve and provide public access to historical correspondence, Congressional papers, institutional records, and rare books. Located on the stunning historic site of New Jersey’s first elected Governor, William Livingston, the research experience offers one-on-one research support by our Research Library Associates, state of the art technology and tools, and access to primary source documents. It serves as a resource for curriculum support, researchers, scholars, and civilian historians alike. Archivist Erin C. Alghandoor and her support staff are ready to welcome you. Use of the Special Collections Research Library is free and open to all. We request that groups of larger than 10 call to arrange adequate guest support.
This blog highlights letters from the Liberty Hall Collection, which consists of the correspondence, financial records, legal documents, and other manuscript material of the Livingston and Kean families, dated from 1686-1847. The bulk of the collection is related to Susan Livingston Kean Niemcewicz (1759-1833). The Livingston and Kean families frequently corresponded and held accounts with other prominent colonial and early American families in New Jersey, especially Elizabeth-Town, Philadelphia, New York City, upstate New York, England, France, and Poland. A small portion of the collection includes correspondence with early Virginia families, unrelated to the Livingston and Kean families.
Footnotes:
[1] Barnwell, Robert. Robert Barnwell to John Kean. Manuscript. From Special Collections Research Library and Archives, Kean University, Liberty Hall Collection
[2] Boston, April 11." Georgia Gazette (Savannah, Georgia), no. 331, May 28, 1789: [2]. Readex: America's Historical Newspapers. https://infoweb-newsbank-com.kean.idm.oclc.org/apps/readex/doc?p=EANX&docref=image/v2%3A11902258F119FDF8%40EANX-11A5FF70A6B66680%402374627-11A5FF70C2638E98%401-11A5FF70DE26F2C8%40Boston%252C%2BApril%2B11.
[3] "Princeton, July 10, 1781." New-Jersey Gazette (Trenton, New Jersey) IV, no. 185, July 11, 1781: [3]. Readex: America's Historical Newspapers. https://infoweb-newsbank-com.kean.idm.oclc.org/apps/readex/doc?p=EANX&docref=image/v2%3A109C9ECA40971B98%40EANX-10A23D28ED42EDE8%402371749-10A23D2937ED17C8%402-10A23D2A1E8FEDC8%40Princeton%252C%2BJuly%2B10%252C%2B1781.
[4] “Sarah Livingston Jay to Catharine W. Livingston, 16 July 1783,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Jay/01-03-02-0154. [Original source: The Selected Papers of John Jay, vol. 3, 1782–1784, ed. Elizabeth M. Nuxoll. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2013, pp. 409–413.]
The toasts included: 1. The United States of America, may they be perpetual
2. The Congress
3. The King & Nation of France
4. General Washington & the American Army
5. The United Netherlands & all other free States in the world
6. His Catholic Majesty & all other Princes & Powers who have manifested Friendship to America—
7. The Memory of the Patriots who have fallen for their Country— May kindness be shown to their Widows & Child^ren^
8— The French Officers & Army who served in America
9— Gratitude to our Friends & Moderation to our Enemies
10— May all our Citizens be Soldiers, & all our Solders Citizens
11— Concord, Wisdom, & Firmness to all American Councils
12— May our Country be always prepared for War, but disposed to Peace
13— Liberty & Happiness to all Mankind.—