EXPENSE
ACCOUNTS: Checking Up on George
-Jack Iams
When George Washington left Philadelphia in the summer of 1775 to assume command of the Continental Army at Cambridge, Mass., he rode in a phaeton -brougham at the taxpayers' expense-and the cost of the vehicle, recorded in his own neat hand, came to $1,430. In terms of today's dollars, according to a new study of Washington's wartime accounts, the phaeton was "the equivalent of roughly twelve Cadillac broughams."
The expenditure is one of many cited by humorist-turned-scholar Marvin, Kitman in a book designed to show that Washington was the father not only of his country but of that storied latter-day institution, the expense account, as well. The general invoked only 42 of Kitman's 43 basic rules governing the art of expense-account writing, but those he used with consummate mastery. The purchase of the phaeton, Kitman says, "illustrates a basic principle: let your employer know you are a good liver, so it won't come as a shock when your expense account is turned in.".
The burden of Kitman's irreverent audit is that Washington's famous offer to serve as commander in chief for no compensation other than his actual expenses turned out to be vastly more expensive for the first American taxpayers than the $500 a month that Congress originally proposed as the general's salary. “Congress miscalculated,” notes Kitman, "in much the same way that it projects military expenditures today." Accordingly, instead of the $48,000 t hat Washington would have received during eight years of war had he been on salary, the expense account he submitted to Congress, in 1783, was one for the staggering sum of $449,261.51 -including interest at 6 per cent and a surcharge for depreciation. In terms of today's dollars, says Kitman, "what we're ta1king about here is millions."
High Times: In addition to the purchase of the phaeton the ten-day journey to Cambridge, which included lavish entertainment en route cost $4,146.55. Kitman estimates this was some thirteen times more than the fare to Europe at the time. Washington's "Expense Account Odyssey," he writes, "is still a good mark to shoot at for new expense-account writers who are still at sea on what to charge for their first business trip. The basic principle is: don't travel on a troopship."
Like many a modern businessman, Washington went to great expense to have his wife, Martha, at his side whenever possible. Kitman feels, for instance, that an entry of $842.40 for household expenses on Feb. 7, 1776, represents a masterly understatement. Why? Because, says Kitman, in this innocuous item is hidden the first major turning point of the war. Martha Washington has arrived at the front." The principle involved here,” Kitman adds, is this: "A wife, or a secretary does not have to go through the motions of doing business to qualify as a deduction."
From page after page of Washington's accounts-complete facsimiles of which are included in the book- Kitman cites expenditures for such things as tailoring, vast quantities of Madeira wine ("especially the '59 and '63") and oil portraits (much in the fashion of "modern businessmen who put Fabian Bachrach portraits on their expense accounts against the day when these must be sent to newspapers"). Throughout, Kitman sprinkles illustrations of the basic principles Washington employed. Samples:
*After noting that Washington had accepted hospitality in New York: "Live off the land. The money you don't spend for dinner by eating hors d'oeuvres at some manufacturer's cocktail party, you can spend tomorrow."
* In reference to payments made to unidentified spies: "When intermingling private and office expenses, make the cover story difficult to verify."
* In reference to Congressional disapproval of amateur theatricals staged to boost troop morale at Valley Forge: "Never do anything on an expense account the boss wouldn't do; if you do, don't get caught."
* Following notes on expenses incurred on a visit to the Boston harbor area which the British were afterward forced to evacuate: "Make a sale occasionally."
Inevitably, the recitative of
expenditures wears thin and the author's irreverence grows overly
insistent, even shrill. But at least he manages to produce a
happy ending. For when the war was over, and the expense account
turned in, the congressional committee that looked it over
approved the document without a murmur. But Congress had learned
its lesson, and when Washington was elected President and again
offered to serve for expenses in lieu of salary, Congress said
no, thank you: instead, it voted the father of the expense
account a salary of $25,000.
-JACK IAMS