George Washington's Expense Account

Until someone accidentally comes up with the great American novel, the only truly unique contribution to belles-lettres made by Americans will continue to be the corporate expense account. Our talent for the art is unsurpassed--even though writing this kind of autobiography leaves many of us feeling vaguely un-American. The tale we tell may be painfully true, but the concept of eating, sleeping and forgetting the cares of the day at no expense to oneself seems immoral;it grates against the closet puritan lurking in all of us.

So that you can save your guilt for some greater imagined sin, I would like to disabuse you of the notion that expense-account writing must have been the evil product of a diseased eastern European mind. The classic in the field is still the expense account that George Washington turned in for leading the country through the Revolutionary War.

Every schoolboy knows that at this critical moment in our history, Washington offered to serve his country without salary. In a stirringly patriotic speech delivered shortly after his election as commander in chief of the Continental Army, the general pledged to fight without pay to the end--provided the country picked up his expenses.

Nothing much is heard in the classrooms about the equally stirring expense account General Washington submitted after the War. The 66-page list of expenses was first published by the Treasury Department in 1833, under the deceptively boring title Accounts, G. Washington with the United States, Commencing June, 1775 and ending June 1783, Comprehending a Space of 8 Years. For some reason, the book never really caught on with the public.

I found a copy of it in the stacks of the New York Public Library, where I've been researching The Making of the Prefident 1789, a book about how the Mount Vernon political machine engineered the first national election. It was a very exciting discovery.

I am no historian, so I have to be cautious about getting involved in issues that Washington scholars have quibbled about for the past century. But I am a free-lance writer. And if there is one thing free-lance writers are authorities on, it is expense accounts. Editors have repeatedly assured me that some of my most creative writing appears in the expense accounts accompanying my assignments.

Reading Washington's literary tour de force brought me the sad realization that much of what I considered original in my work was derivative. But it is only proper to give credit where credit is due: With the exception of the drug-inspired avant-garde, just about everybody who writes expense accounts today is only following in the padded footsteps of George Washington. In fact, I might go so far as to say that Washington's expense account is obviously the revered model for the current epic form of the genre--the nation's defense budget.

Like most literary giants, Washington began his Accounts with a bold statement that sets the tone for the entire work. On his first day of active duty, we learn, he engaged in a series of strategic military maneuvers that today we would call a shopping spree:

To the purchase of five horses, two of which were had on credit, from Mr. James Meade, to equip myself for my journey to the Army at Cambridge--& for the service in a then going upon--having sent my horses back to Virginia...$6214

Now, the other, more venal soldiers, who insisted on being paid for their services, received salaries ranging from $80 a month for privates to $500 a month for generals. It appears that Washington spent more than the average general's annual income the first time he used his expense account--and Washington never told a lie, so there's no point in questioning whether he actually spent that much money on horseflesh. Despite his reputation for honesty, he submitted bills for all expenditures over $25. (However, by way of historical comparison, I must note that there is no record of bills submitted for purchase, rental or mileage on horses used by Paul Revere during his famed ride to Lexington and Concord. Whether he was a selfless patriot or simply lost his receipts, we shall probably never know.)

While on this same expedition, Washington also bought harnesses, saddles and other spare parts for his horses; pistols, letter cases, maps, field glasses and a light phaeton--ending the day in Philadelphia's Abercrombie & Fitch with bills totaling $8762. But it was taxpayers' money well spent.

At the time, Philadelphia was a hotbed of Toryism, as was nearly half the country. Judging from the way the general was laying in supplies, the sporting-goods store owners undoubtedly spread the word that he was expecting a long cold war. The intelligence that the revolutionary's gear included

To a Field Bedstead & Curtains, mattrass, Blankets, & C. & C.... had of different persons...$532

alone must have thrown terror into the British War Office. "What manner of man is both master military strategist and interior decorator?" they must have asked themselves. Indeed, these domestic expenditures may be the origin of modern psychological warfare.

After this brilliant beginning, Washington's muse soars to yet a new plateau in the entries labeled "household expenses." Here we see his true greatness revealed; and even though these items fail to prove that he invented expense accounts, they clearly show that he was the founding father of that American life style known as expense-account living.

Everybody is familiar with what conditions were like for Revolutionary troops wintering at Valley Forge. It was so cold, the story goes, that enlisted men could keep warm only by grumbling to one another about their lousy $80 a month--and General Washington even gave away some of his blankets, possibly the same ones he charged on his expense account. More than blankets, though, it would have warmed the Pfc.s' hearts to know of this item in their leader's ledger for January 29, 1778:

To Capt. Gibbs...Household exp's...$2000

And they would have warmed even more if they had known that the general's $2000 outlay for his own miserable subsistence covered exactly one month.

Literalists would say that Washington lacks his usual candor in explaining what his household expenses were--while I would call this a clear case of poetic ambiguity. In any event, the question is of interest, because it represents a problem Congress still faces in dealing with the military-industrial complex. Every time a defense project costs taxpayers more than anticipated, it is in the tradition of George Washington.

The contemporary term closest to household expenses is miscellaneous. Like politics, this category seems to combine elements of fiction and nonfiction. At Valley Forge, I learned from other sources, Washington's household expenses covered such luxuries as food and the purchase of uniforms--and such necessities as imported wines, entertainment costs and construction of a separate dining hut. Household expenses probably also covered the silver dollars that Washington tended to throw across rivers, a favorite form of R. & R.

A recapitulation of the eight-year war period on the last page of the expense account states that household expenses alone amounted to $157,312. To the unimaginative, this may seem a trifle out of line. But I'm sure the same conclusion could be drawn from an audit of President Grant's liquor bills or President Harding's expenditures on his mistress, Nan Britton. And these expenses add up to one incontrovertible fact: that George Washington wasn't one of those cheap politicians we're always reading about in American history.

In case anyone doubts this statement, let me hasten to add that these household expenses did not include charges for servants. Following the old military principle that those also serve who only stand and wait, Washington hired civilians to make his bed, police the area, carry his duffel bag and powder his wig. He was an equal-opportunity employer, judging by the number of whites who worked like slaves on his staff. A typical week (December 1-7, 1775) in the rebel fight against British tyranny ran:

To servants wages...$234

To washing...$127

To barber, at sundry times...$175

Apparently, it wasn't until after the American Revolution that war was supposed to be hell.

One school of thought holds that Washington's frequent entries for barber may be a genteel euphemism for dentalwork. As should surprise no one, his wooden false teeth fitted poorly--which is why he's rarely shown smiling in war pictures--and there are no expenditures listed for carpenter. Less easily explained are the numerous entries for so-called washing.

It happens that a major scandal, dubbed "The Washerwoman Kate Affair," occurred during the period covered by the account book. Continental Congressman Benjamin Harrison, a political crony of Washington's from Virginia, is purported to have written a letter to the general, discussing Army affairs. It closed with this footnote about private affairs, as they related to Washington's forthcoming junket to the nation's capital at Philadelphia:

As I was in the pleasing task of writing to you a little Noise occasioned to turn my Head around, and who should appear but pretty little Kate, the Washerwoman's daughter, over the way, clean, trim, and rosey as the Morning; I snatch'd the golden glorious Opportunity, and but for that cursed Antidote to Love, Sukey (Mrs. Harrison), I had fitted her for my General against his return. We were obliged to part, but (continued on page 186)Expense Account(continued from page 82) not till we had contrived to meet again; if she keeps the Appointment I shall relish a week's longer stay -- I give you now and then some of these adventures to amuse you, and unbend your mind from the Cares of War.

Right-thinking historians insist the letter was a forgery -- British-army propaganda designed to weaken the nation's moral fiber by revealing that Washington the monument was also Washington the man. Thoughts of other historians are furtively muttered at cocktail parties but are as yet unpublished. Whatever the truth of the matter, the expense account shows that Washington charged the Government thousands of dollars for washing. I like to think that either he had a compelling obsession for cleanliness or he was engaged in a small laundry business on the side.

This is not to say that Washington could not have buried the costs of being the de facto, as well as the de jure, Father of his Country elsewhere in his expense account. Any of these items might have been his military code for liaisons dangereuses:

24 July 75: To ditto paid a French cook...$62

--Jan 76: To the relief of the distressed Wives & children of the soldiers from Marblehead...$532

15 April 76: To Exp's of a party of Oneida Ind'ns on a visit to me--& for Prest;s to them...$412

Like any executive who has to move around a lot, Washington no doubt occasionally felt the need for a little warmth and understanding while on the road; but, unlike some executives, he wasn't loath to take his wife along once in a while. And all of us should be proud of the way he handled it. He wrestled long and hard with his conscience, and lost:

At first view it seemed to have the complexion of a private charge. I had my doubts therefore of the propriety of making it. Consequent of my self-denial, as of right I think I ought upon due consideration adjudged the charge as just, with respect to myself. And I make it with less reluctance as I find upon the final adjustment of these acc.... that I am a considerable looser [sic] ... thro' hurry, I suppose, & the perplexity of business (for I know not how else to acct. for the deficiency) I have omited to charge -- whilst every debit against me is here credited.

I asked my tax accountant what an Internal Revenue Service agent today would say about Washington's decision to throw in a $27,890 item for the expenses of having the founding mother, Martha Washington, visit him at the Valley Forge Holiday Inn or other battlefield motels. "They would want to hear more details about the soul-searching," he explained. "If he were my client, I would have advised him to attach a transcript of the debate he had with himself."

Although these inspired interpretations of what is just and right are impressive, they don't hold a candle to Washington's master stroke of charging the Government for looking for the enemy.

To a Recconoiter of the East River & Along the Sound as far as Maraneck...$411 he wrote of charging to find the whites of British eyes in the New York metropolitan area on July 8, 1776. And on July 23, he recorded this blow for liberty:

To the Expence of Reconn'g the Country as far as Perth Amboy...$754

Since the general had already charged for all of his living costs for the period, an IRS agent might have wondered what remained in the way of expenses to write off on a patrol to Perth Amboy, which even in the 1770s wasn't exactly the Paris of New Jersey. Freeway tolls? Leasing canoes from the Indians? Every time he stopped to ask a farmer whether the British were coming, he may have had to tip him. Our ancestors were a lot like civil servants today: They ride with both parties during a transition in Government, waiting to see who will win.

The reasons for expenses incurred during these aggressive forays will remain forever shrouded in the general's magnificently cryptic prose, but we do know that he was a just man--he also charged the country for fleeing the enemy. Since his strategy for winning the War seemed to include losing all the battles but the last one, it was necessary for him to do a lot of traveling around the countryside, all of which excursions were duly itemized:

To sundry Exp.'s paid by myself at different times & places in passing from the White Plains, by way of King's ferry to Fort Lee--and afterward on the Retreat of the Army thro' the Jerseys into Pennsylvania & while there...$3776

At first, I thought some of these travel items were for the whole Army. But this couldn't be true. While the Army was resting comfortably in Valley Forge one winter, Washington made a quick business trip to Rhode Island for a conference with the French army commander, for which he charged the country "$19,848-1/2."

Some people who have been in the Army may have thought patrolling and forced marches were part of a soldier's rotten job, not usually considered a deductible expense. The genius of Washington in making these charges for seeking the enemy and then running away from him has never been fully appreciated by the military. If Washington's leadership in bookkeeping tactics had been followed, with the added democratic touch of allowing privates as well as generals to hand in chits to the paymaster after every patrol, we wouldn't be in Vietnam today. The cost of running an Army would be so prohibitive that not even a country with our resources could wage war without bankrupting itself.

If General Washington had gone on the payroll, like the other soldiers caught up in the Spirit of '76, his take-home pay for the eight years of the War would have amounted to $48,000. As it turned out, the expense account he turned in for the same period totaled $449,261.51.

All of this, of course, wasn't for actual expenses. It included the interest (at six percent per annum) he charged the Government for the money he laid out from his private purse to cover his expenses for the first two years of the War. He also threw in a surcharge for the depreciation, which was caused to some degree by a loss of confidence in his military leadership.

General Washington, it is important to remember, was taking a risk by not being paid as he went. If the War was lost, he would have been out quite a lot of expense money. In that case, however, he would have been hanged as a traitor, anyway. So I guess that isn't too strong a point in his favor.

By deferring payment until the end of the War, rather than accepting the Continental paper dollars the other soldiers were getting, General Washington at least had a fighting chance of getting paid in specie. It was shrewd thinking like this that makes Washington's portrait on the one-dollar bill such a fitting monument.

There is a moral in all of this for young people. It is not to refuse to stay home from school next Washington's Birthday as a protest against the militaryindustrial complex. It is that Washington wasn't any less a hero because of his highly imaginative expense account. That just proves he was human.

He didn't have to go into the Army. Some of the finest men of his day were slackers; John Hancock, the Cabots and the Lodges of Boston, the majority of the other founding fathers found excuses not to bear arms. The few extra shaky dollars Washington may have profited by letting the Government pick up his tab at Fraunces Tavern was penny-ante stuff compared with what the noted smuggler and insurance man, John Hancock, made out of the War.

Washington may have tried to live like a king during the War, but this was his normal standard of living. It wasn't until President Kennedy, anyway, that men were supposed to ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country.

General Washington's expenses, admirers of great expense-account writing will be pleased to learn, were paid without question by Congress in July 1783. When he offered the country the same deal after his election as the first President--no salary, only expenses--Congress turned him down flat. Instead, they humbly begged him to accept a salary of $25,000 a year (at a time when the salary of the Secretary of State, Thomas Jefferson, was fixed at $3500). It was the country's first economy drive.