On most political issues, Washington saw eye to eye with Knox, who had labored hard for the new Constitution. But Knox was destined to be the least capable of the three department heads. He worked diligently, gave Washington unquestioning loyalty, and promptly responded to requests, but he was not an original policy thinker and was relatively passive compared to the assertive Hamilton and the quietly tenacious Jefferson. He also worked in an area where Washington himself was highly competent. The War Department further suffered from the popular bugaboo about a standing army, which meant that Knox started out with 840 federal troops and never supervised a force larger than 5,000 men.

For the all-important Treasury post, Washington turned to the war’s preeminent financier: Robert Morris. En route to the inauguration, Washington had broached the subject with him in Philadelphia. Pleading business reasons, Morris declined the invitation and recommended Hamilton in his stead. James Madison also touted Hamilton as the person “best qualified for that species of business,” although he later came to rue his sponsorship.13

Even before the inauguration, Washington had received anonymous warnings about Hamilton, previewing things to come. A poison-pen artist who styled himself “H.Z.” warned the president-elect to “beware of the artful designs and machinations of your late aide-de-camp, Alexander Hamilton, who, like Judas Iscariot, would, for the gratification of his boundless ambition, betray his lord and master.”14 (Even Madison said later that Hamilton “spoke disparagingly of Washington’s talents” after the war.15) Hamilton was also trailed by accurate rumors that at the Constitutional Convention he had advocated a president who would serve for life on good behavior, planting the notion that he was a closet monarchist. Nevertheless Washington was convinced of Hamilton’s talents and integrity and selected him for the Treasury post, for which he was easily confirmed in early September. Whatever their wartime differences—and Hamilton was much too headstrong to admire anyone uncritically—the two men had worked together closely and productively during the first two phases of the American experiment, the Revolutionary War and the Constitutional Convention. Now they would collaborate on the critical third phase: the formation of the first federal government.

Although Washington seemed unaware of it, Hamilton had been training for the Treasury post throughout the war, boning up on subjects as diverse as foreign exchange and central banks. Like Washington, Knox, and other Continental Army officers, Hamilton had perceived an urgent need for an active central government, and he grasped the reins of power with a sure-handed gusto that set the tenor for the administration. He headed a Treasury Department that, with thirty-nine employees, instantly surpassed the rest of the government in size. Of particular importance, he presided over an army of customs inspectors whose import duties served as the government’s main revenue source.

In Hamilton, Washington found a cabinet secretary of tireless virtuosity who would function as his unofficial prime minister. Taunted as an aspiring upstart by his enemies, Hamilton did not hide his intellectual lights under a bushel. At a time when politicians were supposed to be self-effacing, Hamilton was openly ambitious and, in many respects, the antithesis of his mentor. Where Washington had no compulsion to shine in company, Hamilton, who was charming, urbane, and debonair, wanted to be the most brilliant figure in every group, and he usually was. A prolific writer of letters, essays, and pamphlets, he was a systematic thinker who knew how to translate principles into workable policies. Hamilton saw the advantage of setting a brisk tempo to the administration and pushing through quickly an ambitious legislative package. Setting a pattern for future administrations, he wanted to capitalize on the short-lived goodwill granted to a new president. However sophisticated Washington was as a businessman, he found public finance an esoteric subject and had to rely on Hamilton’s expertise, whereas he could question Knox on war matters or Jefferson on foreign affairs from personal experience.

Nothing drew the contrast between Hamilton and Jefferson so graphically as the speed with which the former accepted the Treasury post versus the latter’s reluctance to become secretary of state. At first Washington had favored John Jay for the State Department, but when Jay preferred the chief justice spot, Washington opted for Jefferson. Although he had seen little of Jefferson in recent years, he cherished fond memories of him from the House of Burgesses, where he had “early imbibed the highest opinion” of him.16 Since Jefferson was crossing the ocean that September, returning temporarily from his ministerial post in Paris, Washington could not consult him before picking him. Only two months later, when Jefferson arrived in Norfolk, Virginia, did he learn of Washington’s decision. As a sympathetic spectator of the budding French Revolution, Jefferson would have preferred to return to France and therefore reacted with extreme ambivalence to the cabinet offer. Still, he had the good grace to tell Washington that, if he took the job, “my chief comfort will be to work under your eye, my only shelter the authority of your name and the wisdom of measures to be dictated by you.”17 In late January 1790 Jefferson, still vacillating, had to be cajoled by both Washington and Madison into accepting the post. Washington pushed him gently. “I know of no person who, in my judgment, could better execute the duties of it than yourself,” he reassured him.18 Not until February did Jefferson formally accept the post, and he arrived in New York only in late March. In pointed contrast, Hamilton had bustled into office with irrepressible energy and immediately launched a far-reaching series of programs.

One wonders whether Jefferson’s hesitation reflected an equivocal attitude toward the new federal government itself, since he had been, at best, a lukewarm supporter of the Constitution. At first he had preferred tinkering with the Articles of Confederation and favored only “three or four new articles to be added to the good, old, and venerable fabric.”19 He was especially chagrined by the absence of a bill of rights and the “perpetual re-eligibility” of the president, which he feared would make the job “an office for life first and then hereditary.”20 Jefferson also retained a congenital distrust of politics, which he personally found a form of sweet torture, the source of both exquisite pain and deep satisfaction. He especially hated bureaucracy, whereas Hamilton had no such qualms.

On Sunday, March 21, 1790, Washington spent the morning in prayer at St. Paul’s Chapel before setting eyes on his new secretary of state at one P.M. The next day the two were locked in policy discussions for more than an hour. Jefferson was tall and lean, with reddish hair, hazel eyes, and a fair complexion. Jefferson, who was slightly taller than Washington but long-limbed and loose-jointed, and his new boss would have stared each other straight in the eye, both towering over Hamilton. A reserved man whose tight lips bespoke a secretive personality, Jefferson had calm eyes that seemed to comprehend everything. Shrinking from open confrontations, he often resorted to indirect, sometimes devious methods of dealing with disagreements. He could show a courtly charm in conversation and was especially seductive in small groups of like-minded listeners, where he became a captivating talker and natural leader. At the same time his mild manner belied his fierce convictions and relentless desire to have his views prevail. The idealism of his writings and his almost utopian faith in the people did not quite prepare his foes for his taste for political intrigue.