WASHINGTON -- His goal, 220 years ago, was to sleep Christmas Eve in his 6-foot 6-inch bed at his Virginia home on the bank of the Potomac. It would be nicer than some other recent Christmas Eves.
Such as in 1776, when he led soldiers across Delaware River ice floes to one of his greatest -- and, truth be told, relatively few -- victories, at Trent Town, as Trenton was then known. Only four Americans died that night, two -- probably shoeless -- from frostbite.
George Washington spent Christmas Eve 1777 with an army leaving bloody footprints in the Valley Forge snow. Six years later, he was heading to a home he had left in 1775 to lead farmers and shopkeepers against the British Empire.
Since Yorktown, Washington, like his embryonic nation, had lived in a peculiar limbo as negotiators, two months' travel away in Paris, codified peace with Britain. In late November, from headquarters along the Hudson River north of Manhattan island, he began his trek from strenuous public service into a placid future of private enjoyments, or so he thought.
His journey was through a nation deep in the throes -- it would be in them for many years -- of regime change. To the extent that there was a national regime, he was it, and he was retiring.
In January 1783 Congress had fled Philadelphia, going to ground in Princeton, N.J., to escape a mutiny of unpaid soldiers. Congress was a place of empty palaver by representatives of states that retained virtually untrammeled sovereignty. By July 1783, with Congress sitting in Annapolis, only South Carolina -- seven decades later, it would be the least cooperative state -- had paid its full assessment to the national treasury. Of the other 12, only Washington's Virginia had contributed half its quota. The two weightiest states, Pennsylvania and New York, had contributed one-fifth and one-twentieth, respectively.
What united the barely united states was 6 feet 3 inches of American in a blue coat and buff trousers, carrying a sword and buckle engraved ``1757'' that testified to his frontier service for the British against the French, whose fleet, 24 years later, sealed the victory at Yorktown. If on his trip home this 51-year-old man had caught a chill and died, as he would do 16 Decembers later, national unity might have been unattainable.