From Farm House to the White House
by William Makepeace Thayer · English · Gutenberg #28618 · 763,084 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: From Farm House to the White House
Author: William Makepeace Thayer
Release date: April 27, 2009 [eBook #28618]
Most recently updated: January 4, 2021
Language: English
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[Illustration: George Washington]
LOG CABIN TO WHITE HOUSE SERIES
From Farm House to the White House
THE LIFE OF
GEORGE WASHINGTON
HIS BOYHOOD, YOUTH, MANHOOD, PUBLIC
AND PRIVATE LIFE AND SERVICES
_By_ William M. Thayer
Author of "From Log Cabin to White House,"
"From Pioneer Home to White House,"
"From Tannery to White House,"
"From Boyhood to Manhood," etc., etc.
_ILLUSTRATED_
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS
Log Cabin to White House Series.
UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME.
BY WILLIAM M. THAYER:
From Boyhood to Manhood--Life of Benjamin Franklin.
From Farm House to White House--Life of George Washington.
From Log Cabin to White House--Life of James A. Garfield,
with eulogy by Hon. James G. Blaine.
From Pioneer Home to White House--Life of Abraham Lincoln,
with eulogy by Hon. Geo. Bancroft.
From Tannery to White House--Life of Ulysses S. Grant.
BY EDWARD S. ELLIS:
From Ranch to White House--Life of Theodore Roosevelt.
_Price Post-Paid, 75¢. each, or $4.50 for the set._
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK.
Copyright, 1890, By JAMES H. EARLE.
To ALL WHO HONOR TRUE MANHOOD,
This Volume,
_REPRESENTING THE ELEMENTS OF SUCCESS_,
From Boyhood to Manhood
IN THE
CAREER AND NOBLE CHARACTER
OF
GEORGE WASHINGTON,
"_THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY_,"
Is Sincerely and Affectionately Dedicated.
PREFACE.
Every American, old or young, should become familiar with the life of
Washington; it will confirm their patriotism and strengthen their
loyalty. Such a character will become an inspiration to them, eliciting
nobler aims, and impelling to nobler deeds.
Washington himself wrote to his step-son, who was in college:
"You are now extending into that stage of life when good or bad
habits are formed; when the mind will be turned to things useful
and praiseworthy or to dissipation and vice. Fix on which ever
it may, it will stick by you; for you know it has been said, and
truly, 'The way the twig is bent the tree's inclined.' This, in
a strong point of view, shows the propriety of letting your
inexperience be directed by maturer advice, and in placing guard
upon the avenues which lead to idleness and vice. The latter
will approach like a thief, working upon your passions,
encouraged, perhaps, by bad examples, the propensity to which
will increase in proportion to the practice of it and your
yielding. Virtue and vice cannot be allied, nor can idleness and
industry; of course if you resolve to adhere to the former of
these extremes, an intimacy with those who incline to the latter
of them would be extremely embarrassing to you; it would be a
stumbling block in your way, and act like a mill-stone hung to
your neck; for it is the nature of idleness and vice to obtain
as many votaries as they can....
"It is to close application and perseverance that men of letters
and science are indebted for their knowledge and usefulness; and
you are now at the period of life when these are to be acquired,
or lost for ever. As you know how anxious your friends are to
see you enter upon the grand theatre of life with the advantages
of a finished education, a highly cultivated mind, and a proper
sense of your duties to God and man, I shall only add one
sentiment before I close this letter and that is, to pay due
respect and obedience to your tutors, and affectionate reverence
for the president of the college, whose character merits your
highest regards. Let no bad example, for such is to be met in
all seminaries, have an improper influence upon your conduct.
Let this be such, and let it be your pride to demean yourself
in such a manner as to obtain the good will of your superiors
and the love of your fellow students."
Better advice than this was never given to a youth; and to enforce it,
we present in this volume the life and character of the great man who so
lovingly tendered it. By employing the colloquial style, anecdotal
illustration, and thrilling incident, the author hopes more successfully
to accomplish his purpose.
In the preparation of this work the author has availed himself of the
abundant material furnished by Washington's well-known biographers,
Ramsey, Weems, Marshall, Sparks, Bancroft, Irving, Everett, Custis,
etc., together with the anecdotes of his earlier and later life, found
in eulogies, essays, and literary articles upon his life and character,
with which the literature of our country abounds. Incident is allowed to
tell the life story of the subject. The incidents of his boyhood and
youth are particularly narrated, that the achievements of ripe manhood
may more clearly appear to be the outcome of a life well begun. To such
an example parents and guardians can point with confidence and hope.
Believing that biography should be written and read so as to assure a
sharp analysis of character, thereby bringing the real qualities of the
subject to the front, and believing, also, that the biographies of the
noblest men only should be written for the young, since "example is more
powerful than precept," the author sends forth this humble volume,
invoking for it the considerate indulgence of critics, and the blessing
of Divine Providence.
W. M. T.
FRANKLIN, Mass.
CONTENTS.
I.
ANCESTORS AND BIRTH.
Ancestors in England--John and Lawrence Washington--Family of
Note--The Washington Manor and Irving--Sir Henry Washington in
War--English Fox Hunting--Washington and Franklin--The
Washingtons in America--Birth of George--House where
born--Ceremony of placing a Slab on it by Custis--Paulding
describes the Place--The House described--George
baptized--Removal to Banks of Rappahannock--Large Estates--Style
of Living--Vast Wilderness--Militia--Depredations by
Indians--Negro Slavery 23
II.
BOYHOOD.
Reliable Information about it--Visit to the Orchard, and the
Rebuke to Selfishness--George's Name growing in the Garden--Its
Lesson about God--The Hatchet, and it Lesson about
Lying--Raising a Regiment of Soldiers--George's Brother in
Uniform--Effect of Military Display on George--Playing
Soldier--His Brother Lawrence a Good Soldier--Love Greater than
War--George's Military Spirit increasing--George's Manly
Bearing--Excels in Athletic Sports--What Fitzhugh said--The
Sequel 36
III.
SCHOOL DAYS.
His Brother Lawrence educated in England--Leaving Home--George
at School when Five Years Old--His Teacher, Hobby--What a
Biographer says of his Progress--The Homeschool--His
Writing-book and Thoroughness--A Good Speller--Studying and
Playing with all his Might--Best Runner, Wrestler, etc.--The
School Grounds a Military Camp--An English and Spanish Army of
Boys--Juvenile Commander-in-chief--A Quarrel that George could
not Conquer--Truth-teller and Peacemaker--At Mr. Williams'
School, and a Mother's Lesson--Studying Surveying--Mimic
War--Surveying School-grounds--Later Surveying--Settling a
Difficulty--Acting as Umpire--What Mr. Weems says--What Mrs.
Kirkland says 52
IV.
METHOD AND THOROUGHNESS.
Doing Things Well--Dialogue with Lawrence--His "Book of Forms,"
and what a Schoolmate thought of it--His "Book of Problems:" its
Use and Abuse--His "Book of Drawing"--Odd Moments--Preserving
Bits of Prose and Verse--What Irving says--His "Rules of
Behavior"--What Lawrence Washington and his Wife thought of
them--Their Influence over him--Part of them Quoted--What
Everett says of them--Author's Opinion--Sample Extract from his
Copy-book--These show his Character--His Heart made a Level
Head 72
V.
FOUR INCIDENTS AND THEIR LESSONS.
His Father's Sudden Sickness--George at Chotauk--The Doctor's
Opinion--Growing Worse, and Startling Revelation--George sent
for--He arrived when his Father was dying--Affecting
Scene--Death and Will--The Arabian Colt--Attempt to ride
him--The Animal killed--George confessing his Wrong-doing--The
"Lowland Beauty"--George in Love--A Human Heart after All--What
Irving says about it--Naval Officers at Vernon--Wants to be a
Midshipman--His Mother's Opposition, and Lawrence's
Approval--Enlists--Appears before his Mother in Naval
Costume--Her Grief--He does not go--His True Manliness asserts
itself 82
VI.
HIS MOTHER.
Her Views of Correct Family Government--Secret of George's
Correct Life--What Custis says about it--What Lawrence
Washington said--Obedience commanded--How she commanded her
Servants--Her One Book, next to the Bible, consulted--What
Everett said of it--Quotations from it--They teach Honesty,
Industry, Fidelity, Religion, etc.--Her
Ancestry--Courage--Afraid of Lightning--Her Singular
Dream--Weems' Explanation--Care of her Family--Mr. Sparks'
Tribute--Irving's Tribute--Her Son visits her before going to
War--Her Patriotism--Taking Charge of her Own Business--Her Joy
over Cornwallis' Surrender--Her Son's Visit to her--The Ball,
and his Staff introduced to her--Compared with Napoleon's
Mother--Lafayette's Visit to her--Her Son's Visit to her before
becoming President--Custis' description of the Scene--Her Death,
Burial, and Monument--Jackson's Eulogy--John Adams' Words--The
Mother of Such a Son, and the Son of Such a Mother 103
VII.
YOUNG SURVEYOR.
His Mother's Views about his Future--The Plea of Lawrence--Goes
to Live at Mount Vernon--Lawrence's Eye on a Military Life for
him--Lessons in "The Manual Exercise"--Lessons in
"Fencing"--Reading Military Treatises--In the Family of William
Fairfax--What the Latter thought of him--Meets Lord
Fairfax--What Everett says of him--What Irving says--Reading
Books and Fox Hunting--An Unexpected Proposition--Becomes a
Surveyor--His Appearance now--Keeping a Journal--Extracts from
Letter and Journal--Mode of Life described--Hardships--What
Abbott and Everett say of his Hardships--Camping Out--In Indian
Wigwam--His Journal describes a Scene--Other Entries--What he
recorded--Sparks' Tribute to his Thoroughness as a
Surveyor--Everett's Tribute--The Stevenson Family--Sports with
the Seven Sons--Among his Officers, Later--Greenaway
Court--Appointed Public Surveyor--In Training for the War of
Seventy-six 132
VIII.
MILITARY HONORS.
The Proposition of Lawrence, and Discussion of it--Appointed
Adjutant-general--Ill Health of Lawrence--Decides to spend the
Winter in Barbadoes--George goes with him--Lawrence no
Better--George has the Small-pox--Returns to Virginia in
April--Lawrence returns in June and dies in Six Weeks--George
one of his Executors--What Everett says of it--Enters Masonic
Lodge--His Commission renewed--Duties pressing upon him--Signs
of War--Encroachments by the French--The Claims of the
Indians--What a Chief said--The Governor's Conference with
Gist--Mission to the French proposed--George offers his
Services--Interview with Governor Dinwiddie--A Copy of his
Commission--His Companions--Visits his Mother--Letter to French
Commander 150
IX.
MISSION TO THE FRENCH.
The Journey begun--Route--A Storm--A Torrent--Baggage on
Canal--Visit to Shingiss--Tanacharisson--Monochatica--Meeting
Deserters--Learning of the Forts from there to New Orleans--The
Half-king--Describes his Visit to Pierre Paul, now Dead--His
Speech--Pierre Paul's Reply--Indian Council and Washington's
Speech--Indian's Reply--Results of the Council--Indians to
conduct them to the Fort--Journey delayed--Way to
Venango--Arrival and Conference with the French--Dinner
Scene--Information 163
X.
FRENCH MISSION--(CONTINUED.)
The Next Fort--Introduction to Commander--Arrival of Paul's
Successor--Receives Dinwiddie's Letter--Washington draws Plan of
the Fort--His Inquiries about Certain Captures--Reparti's Reply
to Dinwiddie--French attempt to bribe Indians--Injury to White
Thunder, and Delay--Return Journey--Snow--Washington and Gist
leave the Party--Their Adventure--The Indian Guide--He proves
False--A Startling Episode--The Indian disposed of--Reaching the
River--Building a Raft--Attempt to Cross--Washington straggling
in the Water--They reach an Island--Escape--Twenty Indian
Warriors--The Indian Queen--Arrival at Williamsburg--Interview
with the Governor--His Journal printed 178
XI.
HIS FIRST BATTLE.
Effect of Washington's Mission--Orders from the
King--Recruiting--The Governor's Bounty to Soldiers--Washington
offered the Command--Talk with a Friend--Letter to Colonel
Corbin--Does not accept Command--Payne knocks Washington
down--How the Affair ended--What McGuire says of Washington's
Magnanimity--Washington takes up his March--Meeting Captain
Trent--Need of More Men--Courier announces Surrender of
Fort--Declaration of War--Washington's Prompt Action--March to
Red Stone Creek and Great Meadows--The French surprised, and a
Battle--Jumonville killed--Entrenching at Great Meadows--Short
of Supplies--His Own Chaplain--Order against Swearing--Marching
to meet the Foe--Retreat to Great Meadows--A Hot
Battle--Washington surrenders--Return to Williamsburg--Honors,
and Larger Provisions--Death of Jumonville
justified--Dinwiddie's Words 194
XII.
ON GENERAL BRADDOCK'S STAFF.
Governor Dinwiddie's Proposition--Washington dissents--Dinwiddie
insists--Washington's Letter--His Rank reduced from Colonel to
Captain--He resigns, and retires to Mount Vernon--The Enterprise
abandoned--A Convention of the Colonies--The King sends General
Braddock with Army--He demands the Services of Washington--Their
Correspondence and Interview--Washington's Motive--On the
Staff--Meeting with his Mother--The March begins--Grand
Spectacle--Braddock's Talk with Dr. Franklin--Underrating Indian
Tactics--Washington disabled by Sickness--Talk with Braddock
about Indians--Army Wagons Useless--Braddock's Temper and Love
of Drink--Good Disciplinarian--Washington's Advice
rejected--Indian Allies--How deserted--What Scarvoyadi
said--Surprised by Indians--Terrible Battle--Washington's
Bravery--Dr. Craik's Word--An Eye-witness--How British
fought--Braddock mortally wounded--Whole Command on
Washington--Retreat--Braddock's Confession--Dies at Fort
Necessity--Burial--Horrible Scenes at Duquesne--Testimony of a
Prisoner--Words of Washington--Letter to his Mother--Letter to
his Brother 211
XIII.
ON THE FRONTIER.
General Dunbar a Coward--Goes into Winter Quarters in
Philadelphia--Assembly meets--Washington's Advice to the
Governor--The Assembly Timid--Washington appointed
Commander-in-chief of Virginia Forces--Failure of the Other
Expeditions--Conference with Fairfax--Headquarters at
Winchester--A Great Scare--Its Funny Termination--Washington's
Appeal to Dinwiddie--Trouble with Captain Dagworthy--Goes to
Boston on Horseback--Meets Miss Phillips in New
York--Honors--His Return--Love in New York--Sudden Alarm calls
him to Winchester--Hurried Steps at Defence--Letter to Loudoun
describing the Condition of Frontier--Appeal to Dinwiddie for
the Terrified People--Indian Atrocities--Dreadful Scenes
described by Washington--Washington Sick Four
Months--Changes 232
XIV.
A RIFT IN THE CLOUD.
Great Need of the Hour--The People Timid--Washington's Mother
again--Another Expedition against Duquesne--Size of the
Army--Goes to Williamsburg--Mr. Chamberlain's Salutation--Stops
to Dine--Meets Mrs. Custis--A Widow Bewitching--Business
done--Returning, stops to see Mrs. Custis--A Treaty of Love--The
New Road Project--Washington opposes it--Elected to House of
Burgesses--Delay--Army moved in September--Braddock's Folly
repeated--Washington overruled--His Prophecy--Major Grant--His
Reckless Course--Conceit of Grant and Forbes--Marching into an
Indian Ambuscade--A Bloody Battle--Defeat of the
English--Retreat--Where was Washington--His Views--Forbes
proposes Winter Quarters--Washington proposes and leads Another
Attack--The Enemy escapes from the Fort--Washington plants Flag
over it--Leaves Force to rebuild--French War ended--Washington
resigns--Goes to Mount Vernon--Testimonial of Officers 249
XV.
HIS WIFE AND HOME.
Who was Mrs. Custis--Rich and Beautiful--Washington's
Marriage--What Negro said of him--Took Seat in House of
Burgesses--Happy Man--The Legislature do him Honor--Removes to
Mount Vernon--His Estates described--Sixteen Spinning
Wheels--Mrs. Washington at the Head--Irving's Description--Rank
necessarily maintained--Company, and English Style--Mrs.
Washington's Wardrobe--His Wardrobe--Education of her
Children--Their Wardrobe--Her Kindness to Slaves--Domestic
Habits--Washington labored on Farm--Systematic
Habits--Improvements on Farm--Reclaiming Dismal Swamp--Hunting
in Winter--Interlopers, and the War against them--The Hunter
conquered--Attending Episcopal Church--Mrs. Washington a Devout
Christian--Building a House of Worship--Washington at
Church--Death of Mrs. Washington's Daughter--The Son
Wayward--Letter about Love--King's College, and
Incident--Keeping his Books--In her Husband's Headquarters in
Winter--Death--Mount Vernon now 270
XVI.
COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.
More Indian Depredations, and War--Washington's Conference with
Mason on English Tyranny--Taxation without
Representation--Oppressive Acts multiplied--The Stamp
Act--Patrick Henry in the Assembly--Treason--Governor dissolved
the Assembly--A Re-election--Washington stands with Patrick
Henry--Discussion with Fairfax on the State of Affairs--Dr.
Franklin before a Committee of Parliament--Friends of America in
Parliament--Next Assembly Bolder, and dissolved by
Governor--Washington's Plan to use no Articles taxed--The Tax
removed except on Tea--Tea thrown into Boston Harbor--Action of
the Citizens against British Soldiers--Day of Fasting and
Prayer--Effigies and Mock Processions Boston Port
Bill--Washington's Journey to Ohio in Behalf of his Old
Soldiers--First American Congress--The Chaplain Memorial to the
King--Chatham's Defence of the Colonies--British Soldiers sent
to Boston--The Patriots aroused--Battles of Lexington and
Concord--The Revolution begun--Putnam and the Grand
Rally--Second American Congress--Washington and Adams--Raise an
Army, and choose Washington for Commander-in-chief--Adams'
Opinion of him 295
XVII.
IN THE SIEGE OF BOSTON.
Adams to Washington--Prepares to Take Command--Letter to Mrs.
Washington--His Will--Another Letter--Starts--Meets a
Courier--His Journey--Legislature--Assumes Command--Mrs. Adams'
Opinion--Talk with Gen. Ward--Order and Discipline--Condition of
the Army--Washington's first Order--Change Wrought--Scarcity of
Powder--Feat of Knox--Washington's Headquarters--Day of
Fasting--Arrival of Supplies--Cruelty of British to
Prisoners--Remonstrance Against--Retaliation--Army
Reduced--Feelings of Washington--Proposed Attack on Boston--His
Plan--Cannonading Described--British Repulsed by Storm--Boston
Evacuated--British Depredation--Washington Provides for Charity
at Home--Mrs. Washington in Cambridge--His Rigid Discipline, an
Incident--Old South and North Church--A Theatre and a
Scare--British Pride Humbled--Action of Congress 321
XVIII.
DEFENDING NEW YORK.
Where the Enemy is going--General Putnam in Command at New
York--Washington Goes There--Hears from the Enemy--Condition of
our Army in New York--Words of Washington--Letter to his
Brother--Action of Congress--Plot to Seize Washington--A
Conspirator Hung--Enemy in the Harbor--Declaration of
Independence Read to the Army--Statue of George III.
destroyed--Putnam and Hamilton--Sir Henry Clinton--Attacking
Fort Moultrie--Cudjo--The Army encouraged--The Corporal
rebuked--The Sabbath honored--Washington's Address--Army in Bad
plight--Order against Profanity--The Enemy moving to capture
Brooklyn Heights--Livingston's Message--Washington's Address to
Army--Terrible Battle--Americans retreat under cover of
Storm--What Sparks says of it--A Council of
War--Deserters--Retreat from New York--Stand at Harlem--Nathan
Hale--Washington's Daring--Great Fire in New York--Loss in
Canada--Disaffection in Army--General Lee returns to
Harlem--Council of War--Another Retreat necessary 349
XIX.
FROM HARLEM TO TRENTON.
Fort Washington and Allies--Retreat to White Plains--Looking for
a Position--The Enemy in Camp--A Battle--Falling back to North
Castle--The Enemy withdraw--What Washington suspected--Advised
to evacuate Fort Washington--The Enemy capture the Fort--Gloomy
Times--Retreat over the Hackensack--Retreat to Newark--General
Lee disobeying Orders--Further Retreat--Boats for Seventy Miles
collected--Disappointment and a Plot--Opposition to
Washington--Retreat to Trenton--Darkest Hour yet--Washington
still hopeful--Will retreat over every River and
Mountain--General Lee's Treasonable Course--General Heath's
Firmness--Crossing the Delaware--Skill of Washington in
Retreating--Lee still disobeys Orders--Lee's Folly and
Capture--Magnanimity of Washington 372
XX.
BATTLES OF TRENTON AND PRINCETON.
Putnam fortifying Philadelphia--Congress investing Washington
with More Power--Arrival of Troops--Startling Proposition by
Washington--Recrosses the Delaware to Fight--His Address to his
Army--The Battle--The Enemy driven--The Hessian Commander
mortally wounded--Fruits of this Victory--The Welcome News
spreads--Washington sees the Time for Another Blow--Over the
Delaware again--Raises Money for the Army--Action of
Congress--The Enemy marching from Princeton--A
Battle--Cornwallis outwitted--God on the Side of the Weak
Battalions--Battle of Princeton--An Affecting
Incident--Cornwallis at his Wits End--Results of the
Battle--Fall of General Mercer--His Bravery to the
End--Washington goes to Morristown for Winter Quarters--The
Enemy Panic-stricken--Driven out of Jersey--Wonderful
Achievements in Ten Days--Tributes of Praise--Camp at Morristown
broken up--Celebrating the Lord's Supper--Encamped at
Germantown--British Fleet appears--Washington meets Lafayette,
and appoints him on his Staff--Some Account of the Young
Nobleman 389
XXI.
DEFEAT AND VICTORY.
Plans of the British for 1777--A Temperance Officer--Battle of
Bennington--Grand Victory--Battle at Fort Schuyler--Indian
Butchery--Miss McCrea murdered by them--Battle of
Brandywine--Lafayette wounded--Providential Care--Battle of
Germantown, and Results--Washington's Daring--Forts reduced, and
the Enemy take Philadelphia--Burgoyne captured, and his
Supplies--Kosciusko--The British revelling in
Philadelphia--Washington in Winter Quarters at Valley
Forge--Famine in Camp, and Great Sufferings--Washington feeding
a Soldier--A Conspiracy against the Chief--Dr.
Craik--Hamilton--Mrs. Washington in Camp--Her Pity for
Soldiers--Washington engaged in Prayer--Baron
Stuben--Pulaski--Exchange of Distinguished Prisoners--Alliance
with France--Council of War--British evacuate
Philadelphia--Pursued--Battle of Monmouth--A Thrilling Incident,
and Dr. Griffith--The Fifer Boy--Lee's Cowardly
Conduct--Hamilton--Washington's Exposure to Death--Grand
Victory--Enemy retreat--Lee Court-martialed--Arrival of French
Fleet--Winter Quarters at Middlebrook--Cruelties of the
Enemy--Massacres of Cherry Valley and Wyoming--Scenes at close
of 1779--British Cruelty to Prisoners in the "Sugar House" and
"Jersey Prison-ship" 405
XXII.
CLOSE OF THE WAR.
Treason of Arnold--How Accomplished--Capture and Execution
of André--Arnold serving in the British Army--Ravages in
Virginia--Attacking Mount Vernon--Washington goes South--Calls
at Mount Vernon--Joins Lafayette at Williamsburg--Attacks
Cornwallis at Yorktown--Bombardment--Governor Nelson--Taking
of Two Redoubts--Washington's Narrow Escape--Surrender of
Cornwallis--Washington's Order--Fruits of the Victory--The
Formal Delivery of Cornwallis' Sword--Delivery of Flags--Divine
Service--Sickness and Death of his Step-son--Sad Scene--Help of
French Fleet--God for Small Battalions again--Washington's
War-horse--News of Cornwallis' Surrender in Philadelphia--Action
of Congress, and Day of Thanksgiving--News in
England--Washington's Plan to Push the War 426
XXIII.
PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.
Conference with Lafayette--Negotiations for War--Sir Henry
Clinton--Treaty of Peace--What America Won, and England
Lost--Washington Parting with his Soldiers--Meets Congress at
Annapolis--Retires to Mount Vernon--Improvement of his Mansion
and Plantations--Encourages Education--Refuses Gift of
$40,000--Generosity to the Poor--A Pleasing Incident--Meeting
Payne again--His Industry--In Convention to Form
Constitution--Elected President--Reluctance to Accept--Journey
to New York--Ovation at Trenton--At New York--His Cabinet--Style
of Living--Grooming Horses--His Sickness--Tour through New
England--Example of Punctuality--Too Late for Dinner--The Pair
of Horses--Presidential Mansion--The Injured Debtor--Urged for
Second Presidential Term--Elected--Fruits of it--Tour South, and
Punctuality--Amount of his Work--Thoroughness--Civil Service
Reform--Lafayette in Exile--Washington's Maxims--Offered a Third
Term--Farewell Address--Retirement--His Opposition to
Slavery--Emancipation of them--The Result 440
XXIV.
DEATH AND FUNERAL CEREMONIES.
Exposure and Cold--Ignores Wise Suggestions--Severe
Attack--Rawlins bleeds him--Believes his End is Near, and
Resignation--His Will--The Physicians arrive--All Remedies
fail--His Last Request--Death--Mrs. Washington's Words--What
Custis says of her--Sad Tidings spread--Action of Congress--The
Senate's Letter to President Adams--The Funeral at Mount
Vernon--Sorrow Universal--What Irving says--Eulogy by Fisher
Ames--Lord Brougham's Estimate--Everett's Final Conclusion, and
Father of His Country 484
XXV.
Eulogy by General Henry Lee 491
LIFE OF WASHINGTON
I
ANCESTORS AND BIRTH.
More than two hundred years ago, when America was chiefly inhabited by
Indians two brothers, in England, John and Lawrence Washington, resolved
to remove hither. As they were not poor, doomed to eke out a miserable
existence from a reluctant soil, it is supposed that _politics_ was the
immediate cause of their removal. It was during the reign of Cromwell,
and he made it hot for his enemies. In 1655 a general insurrection was
attempted, and the vengeance of Cromwell descended upon the heads of all
the participants and not a few of their friends, making their land an
uncomfortable place for a residence. There is no evidence that these
brothers were engaged in the insurrection; but there is quite sufficient
proof that the political situation was stormy, subjecting the Washington
family to frequent molestation.
Edward Everett says: "There is no doubt that the politics of the family
determined the two brothers, John and Lawrence, to emigrate to Virginia;
that colony being the favorite resort of the Cavaliers, during the
government of Cromwell, as New England was the retreat of the Puritans,
in the period which preceded the Commonwealth."
We suspect that these brothers did not understand Indians as well as they
did Cromwell, or they would not have been so willing to exchange the
latter for the former. However, English colonists had settled in the
wilderness of Virginia, and, possibly, some of their own acquaintances
were already there. They knew somewhat of that particular portion of the
new world, and what they knew was generally favorable. Being young men,
too, unmarried, intelligent, adventurous and fearless, life in America
appeared to them romantic rather than otherwise. Be this as it may, John
and Lawrence Washington removed to this country in 1657, and settled in
Westmoreland County, Virginia.
One fact indicates that they belonged to a noble ancestry. Lawrence was
educated at Oxford University, and was a lawyer by profession, and
therefore was a young man of rank and promise, while John was engaged in
business and resided on a valuable estate at South Cove in Yorkshire.
They were young men of brains and tact, fitted by natural endowments and
education to lay the foundation of things in a new country. They
descended from an ancestry of honor and influence from the twelfth
century. That ancestry lived in warlike times. Some of them were
renowned for deeds of heroism. All of them were known for loyalty,
intelligence and solidity of character. Washington Irving paid a visit
to the ancient "Washington's manor" at Sulgrave, several years before he
wrote the "Life of George Washington," and he said,--
"It was in a rural neighborhood, where the farm-houses were quaint and
antiquated. A part only of the manor-house remained, and was inhabited by
a farmer. The Washington crest, in colored glass, was to be seen in a
window of what is now the buttery. A window, on which the whole family
arms was emblazoned, had been removed to the residence of the actual
proprietor of the manor. Another relic of the ancient manor of the
Washingtons was a rookery in a venerable grove hard by. The rooks, those
staunch adherents to old family abodes, still hovered and cawed about
their hereditary nests. In the pavement of the parish church we were
shown a stone slab, bearing effigies, on plates of brass, of Lawrence
Washington, gent., and Anne his wife, and their four sons and eleven
daughters. The inscription, in black letters, was dated 1564."
A nephew of John and Lawrence Washington, Sir Henry Washington,
distinguished himself in the civil wars, under Prince Rupert, at the
storming of Bristol, where he broke through the wall with a handful of
infantry after the assailants had been beaten off, and led the forces to
victory. For his prowess he was promoted, and was in command at
Worcester, when that place was stormed, at a time when the king fled
from Oxford in disguise and the loyal cause was in peril. He received a
letter from General Fairfax, whose victorious army was at Haddington,
demanding the immediate surrender of Worcester. Colonel Washington
replied:
"SIR,--It is acknowledged by your books, and by report of your
own quarter, that the king is in some of your armies. That
granted, it may be easy for you to procure his majesty's
commands for the disposal of this garrison. Till then, I shall
make good the trust reposed in me. As for conditions, if I
shall be necessitated, I shall make the best I can. The worst
I know, and fear not; if I had, the profession of a soldier
had not been begun, nor so long continued by your
Excellency's humble servant." HENRY WASHINGTON.
For three months he withstood the siege, experiencing hunger and
hardship, until his Majesty ordered capitulation.
Irving says of this heroic stand, "Those who believe in hereditary
virtues may see foreshadowed in the conduct of this Washington of
Worcester, the magnanimous constancy of purpose, the disposition to
'hope against hope,' which bore our Washington triumphantly through the
darkest days of our revolution."
It appears that the Washingtons were first in war as well as in peace,
centuries ago. There was wealth, fame and influence in the family, from
generation to generation. Their prominence in the grand hunt of those
times proves their high social and public position.
Irvington says, "Hunting came next to war in those days, as the
occupation of the nobility and gentry. The clergy engaged in it equally
with the laity. The hunting establishment of the Bishop of Durham (who
belonged to the Washington family) was on a princely scale. He had his
forests, chases and parks, with their train of foresters, rangers and
park-keepers. A grand hunt was a splendid pageant, in which all his
barons and knights attended him with horse and hound."
Later, the famous English fox-hunting, in which noblemen engaged with
great pomp and expense, engaged the attention of the Washingtons. We
refer to the fact here, because it will explain certain things connected
with the life and times of our George Washington in Virginia.
Everett says, "It may be mentioned as a somewhat striking fact, and one
I believe not hitherto adverted to, that the families of Washington and
Franklin--the former the great leader of the American Revolution, the
latter not second to any of his patriotic associates--were established
for several generations in the same central county of Northamptonshire,
and within a few miles of each other; the Washingtons at Brighton and
Sulgrave, belonging to the landed gentry of the county, and in the great
civil war supporting the royal side; the Franklins, at the village of
Ecton, living on the produce of a farm of thirty acres, and the earnings
of their trade as blacksmiths, and espousing,--some of them, at least,
and the father and uncle of Benjamin Franklin among the number,--the
principles of the non-conformists. Their respective emigrations, germs
of great events, in history, took place,--that of John Washington, the
great-grandfather of George, in 1657, to loyal Virginia,--that of Josiah
Franklin, the father of Benjamin, about the year 1685, to the metropolis
of Puritan New England."
This brief sketch of the Washington family in the mother country must
suffice. Its history in our country began in 1657, on the West Bank of
the Potomac, about fifty miles from its entrance into Chesapeake Bay, in
Westmoreland County. The two brothers, John and Lawrence, purchased an
estate of several thousand acres there, and erected thereon a
comfortable dwelling. In process of time, John married Miss Anne Pope,
and went to reside on Bridge's Creek. Two sons, Lawrence and John, and a
daughter, were the fruits of his union. Lawrence, the oldest son,
married Mildred Warner, daughter of Colonel Augustus Warner, by whom he
had three children, John, Augustine and Mildred. The second son,
Augustine, became the father of George Washington. He married Jane
Butler, by whom he had four children--Butler, Lawrence, Augustine and
Jane. His wife died; and two years thereafter, Mary Ball, a young lady
of great beauty, became his second wife. They were married March 6,
1730. Their first child was George, who was born February 22, 1732. Five
other children--Betty, Samuel, John Augustine, Charles and
Mildred--were added to the family.
John Washington, grandfather of Augustine, distinguished himself in
military affairs, and became lieutenant-colonel in the wars against the
Indians. He was one of the largest planters in the colony, and became
one of the most influential men. In time he became a magistrate and a
member of the House of Burgesses. The name of the parish in which he
lived--Washington--was derived from him.
Augustine Washington, father of George, lived on Pope's Creek when the
latter was born, about one-half mile from the Potomac. The house in
which George was born was pulled down or burned before the Revolution.
The site is now designated by a slab, bearing the inscription:
HERE,
ON THE 11TH OF FEBRUARY (OLD STYLE), 1732,
GEORGE WASHINGTON
WAS BORN.
The slab was placed there by George Washington Parke Custis--his
grandson--sixty-seven years ago. Thirty-six years after he performed
the grateful act, he published the following account of it in the
_Alexandria Gazette_:
"In June, 1815, I sailed on my own vessel, the 'Lady of the Lake,' a
fine top-sail schooner of ninety tons, accompanied by two gentlemen,
Messrs. Lewis and Grimes, bound to Pope's Creek, in the county of
Westmoreland, carrying with us a slab of freestone, having the following
inscription:
HERE,
ON THE 11TH OF FEBRUARY, 1732, (OLD STYLE),
GEORGE WASHINGTON
WAS BORN.
"Our pilot approached the Westmoreland shore cautiously (as our vessel
drew nearly eight feet of water), and he was but indifferently
acquainted with so unfrequented a navigation.
"Desirous of making the ceremonial of depositing the stone as imposing
as circumstances would permit, we enveloped it in the 'star-spangled
banner' of our country, and it was borne to its resting place in the
arms of the descendants of four revolutionary patriots and
soldiers--SAMUEL LEWIS, son of George Lewis, a captain in Baylor's
regiment of horse, and a nephew of Washington; WILLIAM GRIMES, the son
of Benjamin Grimes, a gallant and distinguished officer of the
Life-guard; the CAPTAIN of the vessel, the son of a brave soldier
wounded in the battle of Guilford; and GEORGE W. P. CUSTIS, the son of
John Parke Custis, aid-de-camp to the commander-in-chief before
Cambridge and Yorktown.
"We gathered together the bricks of an ancient chimney that once formed
the hearth around which Washington in his infancy had played, and
constructed a rude kind of a pedestal, on which we reverently placed the
FIRST STONE, commending it to the attention and respect of the American
people in general, and to the citizens of Westmoreland in particular.
"Bidding adieu to those who had received us so kindly, we re-embarked
and hoisted our colors, and being provided with a piece of canon and
suitable ammunition, we fired a salute, awakening the echoes that had
slept for ages around the hallowed spot; and while the smoke of our
martial tribute to the birth-place of the _Pater Patriæ_ still lingered
on the bosom of the Potomac, we spread our sails to a favoring breeze,
and sped joyously to our homes."
Mr. Paulding, in his life of Washington, describes the place as follows:
"A few scanty relics alone remain to mark the spot, which will ever be
sacred in the eyes of posterity. A clump of old decayed fig trees,
probably coeval with the mansion, yet exists; and a number of vines and
shrubs and flowers still reproduce themselves every year, as if to mark
its site, and flourish among the hallowed ruins. The spot is of the
deepest interest, not only from its associations, but its natural
beauties. It commands a view of the Maryland shore of the Potomac, one
of the most majestic of rivers and of its course for many miles towards
the Chesapeake Bay. An aged gentlemen, still living in the neighborhood,
remembers the house in which Washington was born. It was a low-pitched,
single-storied frame building, with four rooms on the first floor, and
an enormous chimney at each end on the outside. This was the style of
the better sort of houses in those days, and they are still occasionally
seen in the old settlements of Virginia."
Irving says that "the roof was steep, and sloped down into low,
projecting eaves;" so that an artist's eye can readily see the house as
it was.
Let the reader bear in mind that John Washington was the founder of the
Washington family in America, and George Washington was his
great-grandson.
George was baptized on the 5th of April following, when he was about six
weeks old. Mrs. Mildred Gregory acted as godmother, and Mr. Beverly
Whiting and Captain Christopher Brooks, godfathers.
When George was four or five years old, his father resolved to move to a
plantation on the banks of the Rappahannock River, opposite
Fredericksburg.
"There are many advantages in that locality," he remarked to his wife;
"besides, the land is better."
"There can't be much fault found with the land anywhere in this part of
the country," responded Mrs. Washington. "It needs little but using."
"Very true; but somehow I have taken a great liking to the banks of the
Rappahannock," continued Mr. Washington. "The children will like the
change, I know."
"That may be; children like change; a novelty just suits them," answered
Mrs. Washington. "I have never known them to express dissatisfaction
with this place. They are about as happy as children can well be."
"There can be no doubt of that, judging from daily observation,"
responded her husband, somewhat facetiously. "If a change does not add
to the sum total of their happiness, I trust that it will not subtract
much from it."
"Understand me," continued Mrs. Washington, "I am not setting myself up
in opposition to your plan of removing. It may prove the very best thing
for us all. We sha'n't know till we try."
"Well, I think I shall try it," added Mr. Washington.
And he did try it. He removed to the aforesaid locality in the year
1737. The estate was already his own.
The reader must know from what has been said already, that estates of
two, three and five thousand acres, in Virginia, at that time, were
common. Many wealthy English families, fond of rural life, and coveting
ample grounds for hunting and roaming, had settled in the "Old
Dominion," where land was cheap as well as fertile. The Washington
family was one of them. From the day that John Washington and his
brother settled in Virginia, they and their numerous descendants were
large landholders. When George was forty-one years of age, just before
the stirring scenes of the Revolution, we find him writing to a Mr.
Calvert of George Washington Parke Custis:
"Mr. Custis' estate consists of about _fifteen thousand acres_ of land,
a good part of it adjoining the city of Williamsburg, and none of it
forty miles from that place; several lots in the said city; between two
and three hundred negroes, and about eight or ten thousand pounds upon
bond, and in the hands of his merchants. This estate he now holds
independent of his mother's dower, which will be an addition to it at
her death."
Wealthy families at that time lived in expensive style. They kept their
"turn-outs and liveried servants," as we call them now, and made an
imposing appearance on public occasions. The proprietors were "gentlemen
farmers," whose mansions were conducted on a grand scale of hospitality.
Everybody was welcome, even Indians.
When George's father removed to the banks of the Rappahannock, one vast,
unbroken forest, on either side, met his view. The woodman's axe had
opened only here and there a patch of the woods to the light of the sun.
These forests abounded with game, and had long been the hunting ground
of the red men. The river swarmed with water-fowl of various names and
plumage, and often the Indian's birch canoe darted over its waters like
a spirit.
The Colony supported a military organization at that time. The Indians
were friendly to the English colonists, but they might not continue to
be. England and France were friendly to each other, also, yet both had
an eye upon the same possessions in the new world. There was no telling
how soon a resort to arms might be inevitable. The militia must be
maintained against the time of need.
George was almost too young to appreciate the danger when his ears first
listened to tales of Indian depredations.
"Several families murdered in cold blood by roving savages," was the
news Mr. Washington brought home one day.
"Where? Where?" Mrs. Washington inquired, with evident anxiety.
"A long way from here," her husband replied, "but it shows the murderous
spirit of Indians all the same."
"A treacherous race!" remarked Mrs. Washington.
"Yes; treacherous indeed!" her husband replied, "There is no telling
what is in store for us, in my opinion."
"There is no more reason for their murdering white men and woman so far
away than there is for their doing it near by us," suggested Mrs.
Washington.
"None whatever. Revenge, or desire for plunder, prompted the deed, no
doubt; and revenge or hope of plunder is just as likely to move them
here as there to killing and burning," Mr. Washington said.
Occasional startling news of this kind, discussed in the family, was
listened to by George, whose precocity took in the situation well for
one so young. Early in life he had a good understanding of Indian
character, and of the trouble that might come to the colonists through
these savage denizens of the forest. There is good evidence that
apprehensions of Indian hostilities filled him with anxiety long before
they actually commenced.
At that time, also, negro slavery existed among the colonists. The large
estates were worked by slave labor. The Washington family held slaves.
Some planters owned several hundred. As there was no question raised
about the right or wrong of the slave system, it is probable that
George's mind was not exercised upon the subject. He grew up in the
midst of the institution without calling in question its rectitude. We
mention the fact here, because it was one of the early influences of his
ancestry and birth-place which must have been offset by home
instructions and the rapid unfolding of a singularly manly character.
II.
BOYHOOD.
It is fortunate that the materials of Washington's early life were
preserved by one who was rector of the Mount Vernon parish while members
of the family and other friends survived. Rev. M. L. Weems ministered
there seventy-five years ago, and he gathered information from a woman
who was neighbor to the Washingtons in her childhood, and from John
Fitzhugh, who was often with George in his early home. In addition,
descendants of the family, who had fondly preserved valuable incidents
of their illustrious ancestor's boyhood and manhood, furnished them for
his biography by their pastor. We are indebted to Mr. Weems for most of
the facts relating to Washington's boyhood.
In the autumn of 1737, Mr. Washington went to the door of a neighbor and
relative, leading George by the hand. The woman who related the incident
to Mr. Weems was a little girl at that time, and was visiting the
family.
"Will you take a walk with us?" inquired George's father, addressing
himself to the girl just mentioned, and her cousin, whose name was
Washington.
"We are going to take a walk in the orchard," continued Mr. Washington.
"It is a fine sight now."
Both of the parties addressed promptly accepted the invitation,
delighted to take a stroll among the trees that were bending under their
burden of fruit.
A walk of a half-mile brought them to the orchard, where an unusual
spectacle awaited them.
"Oh, see the apples!" exclaimed George. "Such a lot of them!" And he
clapped his hands and fairly danced in his excitement.
"I never saw such a sight," said the girl who accompanied them.
"It is a spectacle, indeed!" responded Mr. Washington. "It is not often
we see so much fruit in one field as we see here."
It was not so much the enormous crop of apples upon the trees, as it was
the great quantity on the ground beneath them that attracted George. The
winds had relieved the trees of a portion of their burden, and the
ground was literally covered with the luscious fruit. George had never
beheld such a display of apples, and his young heart bounded with
delight over the scene.
They roamed through the orchard for a time, chatting and enjoying the
occasion thoroughly, when Mr. Washington rather disturbed the flow of
animal spirits by saying,--
"Now, George, look here, my son! Don't you remember when this good
cousin of yours (referring to the lad who was with them) brought you
that fine large apple last spring, how hardly I could prevail on you to
divide it with your brothers and sisters, though I promised you that if
you would but do it God would give you plenty of apples this fall."
George made no reply but hung his head in shame. He had not forgotten
his selfishness on that occasion, and he was greatly mortified.
His father continued,--
"Now, look up, my son; look up, George! See how richly the blessed God
has made good my promise to you. Wherever you turn your eyes, you see
the trees loaded with fine fruit; many of them, indeed, breaking down;
while the ground is covered with mellow apples, more than you could eat,
my son, in all your life-time."
George made no reply. His young companions stood in silence, gazing at
him, as if wondering what all this counsel meant. Mr. Washington waited
for his son to speak; and just as he was concluding that George had
nothing to say for himself, the latter turned manfully to his father,
and said:
"_Well, pa, only forgive me this time, and see if I am ever stingy any
more._"
Mr. Washington had a purpose in going to the orchard, and it was well
accomplished. His son got one nobler idea into his head, and one nobler
resolve into his heart. Henceforth the noble boy would treat selfishness
as a foe instead of a friend.
Mr. Washington resorted to the following device to impress his son with
a proper conception of God as the Creator of all things. In the spring
he carefully prepared a bed in the garden, beside the walk, where George
would frequently go for pleasure. When the bed was prepared, he wrote
George's name in full in the pulverized earth, and sowed the same with
cabbage seed. In due time, of course, the seed appeared in green,
thrifty shoots, forming the letters as clearly as they stand in the
alphabet. George discovered them one day. He was then seven or eight
years old. He stood for a moment in silent wonder.
"Those are letters sure enough," he thought.
Then he read them aloud, "G-E-O-R-G-E W-A-S-H-I-N-G-T-O-N."
With wondering eyes he rushed to the house, and excitedly broke the
news.
"Oh, pa, come here! come here!"
"What's the matter, my son? what's the matter?" responded his father.
"Oh, come here, I tell you, pa; come here!" and the boy could scarcely
contain himself, so great was his excitement.
"But what is it, my son? Can't you tell me what has happened?"
"Come here, and I'll show you the greatest sight you ever saw in your
life!"
By this time he was pulling his father along towards the garden, the
latter understanding full well what had happened. Very soon they reached
the bed, where the bright, thrifty cabbage plants had spelled the name
of GEORGE WASHINGTON in full.
"There, pa!" exclaimed George, pointing to his name in cabbage plants,
and exhibiting the greatest astonishment by his appearance. "Did you
ever see such a sight in all your life-time?"
"Well, George, it does seem like a curious affair sure enough," his
father answered. "But who should make it there, pa? Who made it there?"
"Why, it _grew_ there, of course, my son."
"No, pa! No, no! somebody put it there."
"Then you think it did not grow there by _chance_?"
"No, indeed, it never did. That couldn't be."
"How is that, my son? Don't it look very much like _chance_?"
"Why, no, pa; did you ever know anybody's name in a plant bed before?"
"Well, George, might not such a thing happen though I never saw it
before?"
"Yes, pa; but I never saw plants grow up so as to make a single letter
of my name before. How could they grow up so as to make _all_ the
letters of my name! And all standing one after another so as to spell my
name exactly--and all so nice and even, too, at top and bottom! Somebody
did it. _You_ did it, pa, to scare me, because I am your little boy."
"Well, George, you have guessed right," answered Mr. Washington. "I did
do it, but not to scare you, my son, but to teach you a great truth
which I wish you to understand. I want to introduce you to your _true_
Father."
"Ain't you my _true_ father, pa?"
"Yes, I am your father, George, as the world calls it, and love you with
a father's love. Yet, with all my love for you, I am but a poor father
in comparison with your _true_ Father."
"I know well enough whom you mean," continued George. "You mean God,
don't you?"
"Yes, I mean Him, indeed, my son. _He_ is your _true_ Father," was Mr.
Washington's hearty answer.
George went on with his inquiries, and his father, answered, adding at
last:
"Well, then, as you could not believe that _chance_ had made and put
together so exactly the letters of your name (though only sixteen), then
how can you believe that _chance_ could have made and put together all
those millions and millions of things that are now so exactly fitted for
your good! Eyes to see with; ears to hear with; nose to smell with; a
mouth to eat with; teeth to bite with; hands to handle with; feet to
walk with; a mind to think with; a heart to love with; a home to live
in; parents to care for you, and brothers and sisters to love you! Why,
look at this beautiful world in which you live, with its golden, light
to cheer you by day, and its still night to wrap you in sleep when you
are too tired to play; its fruits, and flowers and fields of grass and
grain; its horses to draw you and cows to give you milk; its sheep to
furnish wool to cloth you, and meat for your food; its sun, moon and
stars to comfort you; bubbling springs to quench your thirst; wood to
burn that you may be warm in winter; and _ten thousand other good
things_--so many that my son could never number them all, or even think
of them! Could _chance_ bring about all these things so exactly as to
suit your _wants_ and _wishes_?"
"No, pa, chance could not do it," answered George, really taking in this
new view of the world around him.
"What was it, then, do you think, my son?" continued his father.
"God did it," George replied.
"Yes, George, it is all the work of God, and nobody else," responded his
father. "He gives us all."
"Does God give me everything? Don't you give me _some things_?" George
inquired.
"I give you something!" exclaimed his father. "How can I give you
anything, George? I who have nothing on earth I can call my own; no, not
even the breath I draw!"
"Ain't the house yours, and the garden, and the horses and oxen and
sheep?" still inquired George, failing to comprehend the great truth of
God's ownership.
"Oh, no, my son, no! Why, you make me shrink into nothing, George, when
you talk of all these things belonging to _me_, who can't even make a
_grain of sand_! How could I give life to the oxen and horses, when I
can't give life even to a fly, my son?"
George was introduced into a new world by this lesson, as his father
intended that he should be. His precocious mind grasped, finally, the
great idea of his "_true_ Father," and the lesson never had to be
repeated.
We have rehearsed this incident somewhat in detail as given by Mr.
Weems, because its influence will be found interwoven with George's
future private and public life.
Another story told by Mr. Weems is the famous _hatchet_ story, which has
been rehearsed to so many children, since that day, to rebuke falsehood
and promote truth-telling.
His father made him a present of a hatchet with which George was
especially delighted. Of course he proceeded forthwith to try it, first
hacking his mother's pea-sticks, and, finally, trying its edge upon the
body of a beautiful "English cherry-tree." Without understanding that he
was destroying the tree, he chopped away upon it to his heart's content,
leaving the bark, if not the solid wood underneath, in a very
dilapidated condition. The next morning his father discovered the
trespass, and, rushing into the house, under much excitement, he
exclaimed:
"My beautiful cherry-tree is utterly ruined. Who could hack it in that
manner?"
Nobody knew.
"I would not have taken five guineas for it," he added, with a
long-drawn sigh. The words had scarcely escaped from his lips before
George appeared with his hatchet.
"George," said his father, "do you know who killed that cherry-tree in
the garden?"
George had not stopped to think, until that moment, that he had used his
hatchet improperly. His father's question was a revelation to him; and
he hung his head in a guilty manner for a moment.
"George, did you do it?" urged his father.
Raising his head, and looking his father fully in the face, he replied:
"I can't tell a lie, pa; you know I can't tell a lie, I did cut it with
my hatchet."
Mr. Washington was well-nigh overcome by this frank and honest reply.
For a moment he stood spell bound; then recovering himself, he
exclaimed:
"Come to my arms, my boy! You have paid for the cherry-tree a thousand
times over. Such an act of heroism is worth more to me than a thousand
trees!"
Mr. Weems regards this honest confession the out-growth of previous
instructions upon the sin of lying and the beauty of truthfulness. He
represents Mr. Washington as saying to his son:
"Truth, George, is the loveliest quality of youth. I would ride fifty
miles, my son, to see the little boy whose heart is so honest, and his
lips so pure, that we may depend on every word he says."
"But, oh, how different, George, is the case with the boy who is so given
to lying that nobody can believe a word he says. He is looked at with
aversion wherever he goes, and parents dread to see him come among their
children. O George, rather than see you come to this pass, dear as you
are to me, I would follow you to your grave."
Here George protested against being charged with lying. "Do I ever tell
lies?" he asked.
"No, George, I thank God you do not; and I rejoice in the hope that you
never will. At least, you shall never, from me, have cause to be guilty
of so shameful a thing. You know I have always told you, and now tell
you again, that, whenever by accident you do anything wrong, which must
often be the case, as you are but a little boy, without _experience_ or
_knowledge_, never tell a falsehood to conceal it; but come bravely up,
and tell me of it; and your confession will merit love instead of
punishment."
As we proceed with this narrative, after having enjoyed this glimpse of
George's earliest years, the charming lines of Burleigh will find a
fitting application.
"By honest work and inward truth
The victories of our life are won,
And what is wisely done in youth
For all the years is wisely done;
The little deeds of every day
Shape that within which lives for aye.
"No thought so buried in the dark
It shall not bear its bloom in light;
No act too small to leave its mark
Upon the young hearts tablet white;
Our grand achievements, secret springs,
Are tempered among trivial things.
"No soul at last is truly great
That was not greatly true at first;
In childhood's play are seeds of fate
Whose flower in manhood's work shall burst.
In the clinched fist of baby Thor
Might seem his hammer clutched for war.
* * * * *
"The firmest tower to heaven up-piled
Hides deepest its foundation-stone;
Do well the duty of the child,
And manhood's task is well begun;
In thunders of the forum yet
Resounds the mastered alphabet."
George was about eight years old when a great excitement arose among the
colonists in Virginia, and the fife and drum were heard, to announce
that England, the mother country, needed soldiers.
"A regiment of four battalions is called for, by the king, for a
campaign in the West Indies," announced Mr. Washington to his son
Lawrence, a young man twenty-two years of age.
"A good opportunity for me," answered Lawrence, who possessed much of
the military spirit of his ancestors. "Perhaps I can get a commission."
"Perhaps so," responded his father; "your education ought to place you
above the common soldier."
Lawrence had just returned from England, where he had spent seven years
in study, enjoying the best literary advantages the country could
afford.
"Well, I can enlist and then see what can be done," continued Lawrence.
"The regiment will be raised at once, and I can soon find out whether
there is an appointment for me."
Soon recruiting parties were parading at the sound of fife and drum, and
the military spirit was aroused in the hearts of both young and old. The
enthusiasm spread and grew like a fire in the wilderness. The colonists
were truly loyal to the king, and their patriotism led them, heartily
and promptly, into the defence of the English cause in the West Indies
against the Spaniards.
Recruiting advanced rapidly, and the regiment was soon raised. Lawrence
obtained a captain's commission, and appeared wearing the insignia
of his office. Music, drilling, parading, now became the order of the
day, and it was a new and exciting scene to George. Soldiers in uniform,
armed and equipped for war, marching at the sound of music, captivated
his soul. It awakened all the ancestral spirit of chivalry that was in
his heart. The sight of his big brother at the head of his company,
drilling his men in military tactics, filled him with wonder. Gladly
would he have donned a soldier's suit and sailed with the regiment to
the West Indies, so wrought upon was his young heart.
In due time the regiment embarked for the West Indies, and George was
obliged to part with his noble brother, to whom he had become strongly
attached since his return from England. The departure of so many
colonists, and the cessation of military display, left George in a
serious frame of mind. For the first time in his life he experienced the
sensation of loneliness.
However, he had caught the military spirit, and he found relief in
playing soldier with his companions. There is no doubt that George
inherited somewhat the love and tact for military life for which his
English ancestors were renowned; and now that born element of his
character was called into active exercise. The recruiting campaign
converted him into an amateur soldier.
From that time George found more real pleasure in mimic parades and
battles than he found in any other sport. A stick, corn-stalk or
broom-handle, answered for gun or sword, and the meadow in front of his
father's house became his muster-field. Here Lewis Willis, John
Fitzhugh, William Bustle, Langhorn Dade, and other companions, marched
and counter-marched, under the generalship of their young commander,
George. Soldiering became the popular pastime of the region, in which
the boys played the part of the Englishmen and Spaniards better than
boys can do it now.
Lawrence served two years under Admiral Vernon in the West Indies
campaign, and returned to Virginia in the autumn of 1742. He proved
himself a hero in war. Irving says: "He was present at the siege of
Carthagena, when it was bombarded by the fleet, and when the troops
attempted to escalade the citadel. It was an ineffectual attack; the
ships could not get near enough to throw their shells into the town, and
the scaling ladders proved too short. That part of the attack, however,
with which Lawrence was concerned, distinguished itself by its bravery.
The troops sustained, unflinching, a destructive fire for several hours,
and at length retired with honor, their small force having sustained a
loss of about six hundred in killed and wounded."
Lawrence intended to return to England after a brief stay at home.
"My record will insure me a promotion in the army," he said to his
father, who was averse at first to his return.
"Very true; but army life is objectionable in many ways," his father
replied. "The honors hardly pay."
"But my experience for two years has fitted me for that service more
than for any other, and that is to be thought of," suggested Lawrence.
"Yes; but other avenues to business are always open to young men of
spirit," remarked his father. "Nor is it necessary for them to leave the
country in order to accomplish a noble purpose."
However, Mr. Washington withdrew his objections to his son's return to
the army; though, subsequently, he was pleased that he abandoned the
project under the following circumstances.
There lived an educated English gentleman in Fairfax County by the name
of William Fairfax. He had charge of a very large estate belonging to
his cousin, Lord Fairfax, of England. This William Fairfax had a
daughter, Anne, as well educated and accomplished as Lawrence. Mutual
respect between Lawrence and Anne ripened into mutual love, and they
became engaged. This unexpected episode in the lives of the promising
couple changed the plans of Lawrence; and he voluntarily abandoned the
idea of returning to the army.
The martial spirit of George did not abate when Lawrence came home from
the war; it rather increased than otherwise. For his ears were regaled
with many stories of army life, in which bravery, peril, bloodshed, and
hairbreadth escapes were strangely mixed. There was a singular
fascination in these tales of war to George; and he never tired of
listening to them. The more he heard, the more he enjoyed playing
soldier. He was constantly learning military tactics, too, from the lips
of his brother. Being a bright, intelligent boy, he readily comprehended
and appropriated information upon a subject that was so congenial to his
heart. Lawrence was impressed by the precocity of his little brother, as
well as his tact at soldiering, so that he was all the more gratified to
nurture his martial spirit by rehearsing his experience in war. Lawrence
was twenty-four years of age, and George but ten, so that the latter
looked up to the former somewhat as a son looks up to a father, drinking
in his words as words of wisdom, and accepting his experience as that of
an officer of rank. Lawrence became his military teacher, really; and
the opportunity to George proved a sort of West Point.
Lawrence, and others, too, were very much charmed by George's manly
bearing, even before he was ten years old. John Fitzhugh said of him,
"He was born a man."
He was very handsome, large of his age, tall and straight, graceful and
dignified in his movements. These qualities were so conspicuous as to
attract the attention of strangers.
He was very athletic, too, and loved more active sports than playing
marbles. He excelled in running, wrestling, leaping, and throwing the
bar, sports that were popular at that time. In these things he took the
lead.
John Fitzhugh said of him, as a runner: "He ran wonderfully. We had
nobody hereabouts that could come near him. There was a young Langhorn
Dade, of Westmoreland, a clean-made, light young fellow, a mighty swift
runner, too--but then he was no match for George: Langy, indeed, did not
like to give it up, and would brag that he had sometimes brought George
to a tie. But I believe he was mistaken; for I have seen them run
together many a time, and George always beat him easy enough."
He would throw a stone further then any other boy. Col. Lewis Willis,
who was one of his boon companions, said that he "had often seen George
throw a stone across the Rappahannock, at the lower ferry of
Fredericksburg." No other boy could do it.
His great physical strength was early displayed in lifting and carrying
burdens.
The sequel will show how well his marked physical development served him
in public life. A boy of less muscular power could not have made a
general of such endurance under privations and hardships.
Much more relating to the boyhood of George Washington will appear in
subsequent chapters. Enough has been said in this chapter to accomplish
our purpose.
III.
SCHOOL-DAYS.
"We must come to some conclusion before long about Lawrence's
education," remarked Mr. Washington to his wife. "It is certain that not
much more can be done for him here."
"He deserves and must have something better than the schools of this
colony can give him," answered Mrs. Washington. "Besides, it will do the
boy good to go from home, and mix in such cultivated society as he will
have in England."
They had often discussed the matter of sending Lawrence to England to be
educated. The wealthier classes of Virginia were accustomed to send
their sons to the mother country for a higher education than was
possible at home. Indeed, it was sending them "home" in one sense, for
England was their "home." They were only colonists here, where the
schools were poor indeed. Neither their good-will nor their money alone
could make good schools. They lacked suitable teachers and other
facilities, which neither money nor good intentions could furnish.
"He should go, if he goes at all, as soon as possible," continued Mr.
Washington. "There is no time to lose when a boy gets to be fifteen
years old. Eight years at school there will make him twenty-three when
he gets through; and by that time he should be prepared to enter upon
some pursuit for life."
"Eight years is a longer time than it is absolutely necessary for him to
spend," suggested Mrs. Washington. "Five or six years may be sufficient
unless he decides to enter one of the learned professions."
"He can't be too well educated, whether he enters a learned profession
or not," responded Mr. Washington. "Too much education is quite as
impossible as too much honesty; and I do not expect he will ever have
too much of the latter."
"I shall not deny that," replied Mrs. Washington. "I shall rejoice as
much as you in the best opportunities he can have. I was only suggesting
what might be if absolutely necessary to save time or expense."
Their conclusion was (as stated in the second chapter), to send Lawrence
to England as soon as his wardrobe could be made ready, in which
determination the lad rejoiced more than his parents ever knew. His
ambition for an English education was strong; and, boy-like, he coveted
a residence in England for a while.
Within a few weeks he sailed for the mother country, leaving a sensible
void in the family. George did not interest himself particularly in the
affair, although he might have added an occasional "coo"; for he was
only one year old when his big brother left for England. His
inexperience was sufficient excuse for his indifference to so important
an affair.
George went to school when he was five years of age. A man by the name
of Hobby lived in one of his father's tenements, and he served the
public in the double capacity of parish sexton and school-master. It is
claimed that he was a wounded soldier with a wooden leg, a kind,
Christian gentleman, whose very limited education may have qualified him
to dig graves and open the house of worship, but not to teach the young.
However, he did teach school quite a number of years, and some of his
pupils called him "Old Wooden Leg"--a fact that confirms the story of
his having but one leg. He could "read, write and cipher" possibly, for
that day, but beyond that he made no pretensions. Yet, that was the best
school George could have at that time.
"We hope he will have a better one sometime," his father remarked. "I
may not be able to send him to England, but I hope we shall see better
schools here before many years have passed."
"Mr. Hobby can teach him A, B, C, as well as any body, I suppose,"
answered Mrs. Washington; and he can make a beginning in reading and
writing with him, perhaps.
"Yes, and he may give him a start in arithmetic," added Mr. Washington.
"Hobby knows something of addition, subtraction, multiplication and
division. But a bright boy will run him dry in two or three years."
"Mr. Hobby will do the best he knows how for George or any other boy,"
continued Mrs. Washington. "He is a good man, and looks after the morals
of his scholars; and that is a good deal in educating children."
"Of course it is; it is everything," replied Mr. Washington. "In that
respect, Hobby has the confidence of all who know him. He does the very
best he can, and the most cultivated people can do no better than that."
George was soon on the very best terms with his teacher. The attraction
was mutual. Hobby saw a bright, studious, obedient boy in George, and
George saw a kind, loving and faithful teacher in Hobby. In these
circumstances commendable progress was immediate in George's career.
One of his biographers says of him in Hobby's school:
"The rapid progress George made in his studies was owing, not so much to
his uncommon aptitude at learning, as to the diligence and industry with
which he applied himself to them. When other boys were staring out of
the window, watching the birds and squirrels sporting among the
tree-tops; or sitting idly with their hands in their pockets, opening
and shutting their jack-knives, or counting their marbles, or munching
apples or corn-dodgers behind their books, or, naughtier still, shooting
paper bullets at Hobby's wooden leg; our George was studying with all
his might, closing his ears to the buzz of the school-room; nor would he
once raise his eyes from his book till every word of his lesson was
ready to drop from his tongue's end of its own accord. So well did he
apply himself, and so attentive was he to everything taught him, that,
by the time he was ten years old, he had learned all that the good old
grave-digger knew himself; and it was this worthy man's boast, in after
years, that he had laid the foundation of Washington's future greatness.
But what Hobby could not teach him at school, George learned at home
from his father and mother, who were well educated for those days; and
many a long winter evening did these good parents spend in telling
their children interesting and instructive stories of olden times, of
far-off countries and strange people, which George would write down in
his copy book in his neatest, roundest hand, and remember ever
afterwards."
What this biographer claims was not all the instruction which George
received at home. His instruction at Hobby's school was supplemented by
lessons in reading, penmanship and arithmetic by his father, who was
much better qualified than Hobby to teach the young. Mr. Washington was
a wise man, and he saw that George's school would prove far more
beneficial to him when enforced by such lessons as he himself could
impart at home. Thus Hobby's school really became a force in the
education of George, because it was ably supported by the home school.
Otherwise that first school which George attended might have proved of
little value to him.
George became Mr. Hobby's most important pupil, because he was an
example of obedience, application, method and thoroughness.
"George always does his work well," Mr. Hobby would say, exhibiting his
writing-book to the school. "Not one blot, no finger-marks, everything
neat and clean."
In contrast with some of the dirty, blotted pages in other
writing-books, that of George was a marvel of neatness and excellence.
"It is just as easy to do the best you can as it is to do poorly," Mr.
Hobby continued, by way of rebuke and encouragement to dull and careless
scholars. "George does not have to work any harder to be thorough than
some of you do to be scarcely passible. He is a little more careful,
that is all."
His writing-book, held up to the view of the school with the one most
badly defaced, honored George's thoroughness, and sharply reproved the
other boy's carelessness. Mr. Hobby sought to arouse dull scholars by
encouragement full as much as he did by punishment. Hence, George's
neat, attractive writing-book, contrasted with one of the opposite
qualities, became a stimulus to endeavor. All could keep their fingers
clean if they would, even if they had to go to the banks of the
Rappahannock to wash them; and no pupil was fated to blot his book, as
Mr. Hobby very plainly showed; so that George's example was a constant
benediction to the school.
"The scholar who does as well as he can in one thing will do as well as
he can in another," said Mr. Hobby. "George has the best writing-book in
school, and he is the best reader and speller. It is because his rule is
to do the best he can."
It was not expected that George would fail in spelling. He did fail
occasionally on a word, it is true, but so seldom that his schoolmates
anticipated no failure on his part. In spelling-matches, the side on
which he was chosen was expected to win. If all others failed on a word,
George was supposed to be equal to the occasion.
"Well, George, we shall be obliged to depend on you to help us out of
this difficulty," Mr. Hobby had frequent occasion to say, when all eyes
would turn to George for the solution.
"There is a thousand times more enjoyment in doing things well than
there is in doing them poorly," Mr. Hobby said. "The happiest boy in
this school is the boy who is thorough in his studies."
The pupils understood the remark perfectly. It was not necessary that
their teacher should say whether he meant a particular boy or not. They
made their own application. The boy who does his work well is not hid in
a corner. It is impossible to hide him.
Yet, George was at home on the play-ground. He loved the games and
sports of his school-days. No boy enjoyed a trial at wrestling, running
or leaping, better than he did. He played just as he studied--with all
his might. He aspired to be the best wrestler, runner and leaper in
school. William Bustle was his principal competitor. Many and many a
time they were pitted against each other in a race or wrestle.
"George is too much for him," was the verdict of Lewis Willis and
Langhorn Dade and others.
"In a race George will always win," remarked John Fitzhugh. "He runs
like a deer."
"And he wrestles like a man," said Lewis Willis. "No boy is so strong in
his arms as he is. I am nowhere when he once gets his long arms around
me. It's like getting into a vice."
"William is about a match for him, though," suggested Lewis Willis,
referring to William Bustle. "George has the advantage of him in being
taller and heavier."
"And quicker," suggested Willis. "He is spry as a cat."
"Old Wooden Leg was about right when he said that the boy who would
write and spell well would do everything else well," remarked Langhorn
Dade. "It is true of George, sure."
So George was master of the situation on the play-ground. By common
consent the supremacy was conceded to him. He was first in frolic, as,
years thereafter, he was "first in war."
When the excitement of recruiting for the campaign against the Spaniards
in the West Indies prevailed, and George's military ardor was aroused,
he proposed to convert the play-ground into a muster-field, and make
soldiers of his schoolmates.
"Let us have two armies, English and Spanish," he said. "I will command
the English and William (William Bustle) the Spanish." And so they
recruited for both armies. Drilling, parading, and fighting, imparted a
warlike appearance to the school-grounds. All other sports were
abandoned for this more exciting one, and Mr. Hobby's pupils suddenly
became warriors.
"The Spaniards must be conquered and driven out of English territory,"
shouted George to his men.
"The Spaniards can't be expelled from their stronghold," shouted back
their defiant commander, William Bustle. "You advance at your peril."
"You resist at your peril," replied George. "The only terms of peace are
_surrender_, SURRENDER!"
"Spaniards never surrender!" shouted General Bustle; and his men
supplemented his defiant attitude with a yell. "We are here to fight,
not to surrender!"
"Forward! march," cried the English general in response to the
challenge: and the hostile forces, with sticks and corn-stalks,
waged mimic warfare with the tact and resolution of veterans. Charges,
sieges and battles followed in quick succession, affording great sport
for the boys, who were, unconsciously, training for real warfare in the
future.
William Bustle was the equal of George in ability and skill to handle
his youthful army, but the latter possessed a magnetic power that really
made him commander-in-chief of Hobby's school. He was regarded as the
military organizer of these juvenile forces, and hence the meritorious
author of their greatest fun.
One of the stories that has come down to us from George's school-days is
honorable to him as a truth-telling boy. A difficulty arose among
several boys in school, and it grew into a quarrel. Three or four of
George's companions were engaged in the melee, and some hard blows were
given back and forth. Other boys were much wrought upon by the trouble,
and allowed their sympathies to draw them to the side of one party or
the other. Thus the school was divided in opinion upon the question,
each party blaming the other with more or less demonstration.
"What is this that I hear about a quarrel among you, boys?" inquired
Master Hobby, on learning of the trouble. "Dogs delight to bark and
bite."
The boys made no answer, but looked at each other significantly, some of
them smiling, others frowning. Mr. Hobby continued:
"Is it true that some of my boys have been fighting?"
No one answered. Evidently Mr. Hobby knew more about the affair than any
of them supposed.
"Well, I am not surprised that you have nothing to say about it," added
Mr. Hobby. "There is not much to be said in favor of fighting. But I
must know the truth about it. How is it, William (addressing William
Bustle), what do you know about it?"
William glanced his eye over the school-room and hesitated, as if the
question put him into a tight place. He had no desire to volunteer
information.
"Speak out," urged his teacher; "we must know the truth about it. I fear
that this was not a _sham_ fight from all I can learn. Did _you_ fight?"
"Yes, sir, I did my part," William finally answered with considerable
self-possession.
"Your part?" repeated Mr. Hobby, inquiringly. "Who assigned such a part
to you?"
"Nobody but myself. I don't like to stand and look on when boys are
abused."
"Don't? eh! I wish you would act on that principle when you see some
_lessons_ in your class abused, and come to the rescue by learning them.
That would be acting to some purpose." This was a sharp rejoinder by the
teacher; and William, as well as the other boys, understood its
application.
"But that talk is neither one thing nor another, William," continued Mr.
Hobby. "Waste no more time in this way, but let us have the truth at
once. Be a man now, though you were not when engaged in a quarrel with
your companions."
William was now reassured by his master's tone, and he proceeded to give
his version of the affair. His statement was simply a vindication of his
side of the trouble, and Mr. Hobby so regarded it.
"Now, Lewis (addressing Lewis Willis), we will hear what you have to
say," continued Mr. Hobby. "You were engaged in this disgraceful affair,
I believe."
Lewis admitted that he was, but he hesitated about replying.
"Well, let us have it, if you have anything to say for yourself. There
is not much to be said for boys who fight."
Lewis mustered courage enough to tell his story, which was as one-sided
as that of William. He presented _his_ side of the difficulty as well as
he could, whereupon Mr. Hobby remarked:
"Both of you cannot be right. Now, I would like to know how many of you
think that William is right. As many scholars as think that William's
statement is correct may raise their hands."
Several hands went up.
"Those who think that Lewis is right may raise their hands."
Several hands were raised. George did not vote.
"Did no one attempt to prevent or reconcile this trouble?" inquired Mr.
Hobby--a question that was suggested by the facts he had learned.
"George did," answered one of the smaller boys.
"Ah! George tried to keep the peace, did he? That was noble! But he did
not succeed?" Mr. Hobby added, by way of inquiry.
"No, sir," replied the lad. "They did not mind him."
"Well, I think we will mind him now, and hear what he says," responded
the teacher. "A boy who will plead for peace when others fight deserves
to be heard; and I think we can depend upon his version of the affair.
Now, George (turning to George Washington), shall we hear what you have
to say about this unfortunate trouble?"
George hesitated for a moment, as if he would gladly be excused from
expressing his opinion, when Mr. Hobby encouraged him by the remark:
"I think we all shall be glad to learn how the quarrel is regarded by a
peace-maker."
George hesitated no longer, but hastened to give an account of the
affair. He did not agree with either of the boys who had spoken, but
discovered blame upon both sides, which was a correct view of the case.
"And you interposed and tried to reconcile the angry parties?" inquired
Mr. Hobby.
"I tried to," modestly answered George, as if conscious that his efforts
were of little avail with the belligerents.
"Your effort is just as commendable as it would have been if it had
proved successful," responded Mr. Hobby in a complimentary manner.
"And now, I want to know how many of my scholars, girls and boys, agree
with George. You have heard his story. As many of you as agree with
George may signify it by raising your hands."
There was a prompt and large array of hands.
"Those who do not agree with George may raise their hands." Only three
or four hands went up.
"I agree with George," added Mr. Hobby. "I think he has given us a
reliable account of the trouble; and you all ought to be ashamed of
yourselves that you did not heed his advice, and refuse to quarrel. I
shall take time to consider my duty in the circumstances; meanwhile the
fighting boys may reflect upon their disgrace."
This incident presents two qualities of George's character, always
prominent from his earliest school-days. He was known as a truth-teller.
His word could be depended upon. He would not tell a falsehood to shield
his most intimate companion. His word was so reliable that when he gave
an account of the quarrel, not a few of the scholars accepted it simply
because it was the statement of truth-telling George. Even several whose
sympathies were strongly with William or Lewis finally voted for
George's version. It was their confidence in his adherence to truth that
settled their opinion.
George was often called a "peace-maker." Mr. Hobby called him so. His
associates and their parents called him so. There could be no hard words
or quarrels among his schoolmates with his consent. Sometimes an angry
boy would charge him with being a "coward" because he always pleaded for
peace; but his accuser knew full well that George was no "coward." There
was not a braver boy in that "field-school" than he. He proved his
bravery by rebuking falsehood and fighting among his class-mates. A
cowardly boy yields to the ruling spirit around him; but George never
did, except when that spirit was in the interest of peace.
Soon after the death of George's father, of which we shall speak
particularly in another place, his connection with Mr. Hobby's school
was severed.
"How would you like to go to Mr. Williams' school at Bridge's Creek,
George?" his mother inquired. "Mr. Williams is an excellent teacher, I
suppose, the very best there is in Virginia."
"I should like it," George answered. "Can I go?"
"I have been thinking of it," his mother responded. "You can live with
your brother Augustine; the school is not far from his house."
"Shall I go soon?" asked George.
"Yes, as soon as you can get ready. You are at an age now when you must
attend to the higher branches of knowledge, if ever."
"What shall I study?" inquired George.
"Arithmetic, of course, and I have been thinking of book-keeping and
surveying, very important studies for planters and everybody else in
these parts."
"Then you mean I shall be a planter?" George inquired.
"Yes, there is not much but a planter that you can be in this State; and
a good planter may be as useful and honored as a good merchant or
lawyer."
"I would as soon be a planter as anything else," continued George "and I
will try to make a good one."
"That is the main thing," responded his mother. "Planter, merchant or
lawyer, become the best there is, and you will be both prospered and
honored. You have learned about all you can at Mr. Hobby's school; it is
time to go up higher."
"That will suit me as well as it will you," replied George. "I do not
object to going up higher."
"Some boys act as if they do," rejoined Mrs. Washington; "but I hope you
will never belong to that class. Do the best you can in every place, and
you will never be ashamed of your conduct."
Within a few weeks George found himself a member of Mr. Williams'
school, and a resident of his brother Augustine's family. Arithmetic and
book-keeping engaged his attention at once, and, after a few months,
surveying was added to his regular studies.
Mr. Williams was a thorough instructor, and believed that scholars
should master one branch of study before they took up another. He paid
much attention to reading, spelling and penmanship, encouraging his
pupils to place a high value upon these common, but fundamental,
studies.
"You are a good mathematician, George, and surveying will come easy to
you," remarked Mr. Williams. "Surveyors will be in great demand in this
country before it is many years older."
"I should like to understand it," replied George, "and I mean to
understand it before I have done going to school."
"And the sooner you commence the study of it the better it will be for
you," added Mr. Williams. "You are old enough, and sufficiently advanced
to pursue it successfully. By and by you can survey the fields about
here, by way of practising the art; and you will enjoy it hugely. It
will be better than play."
"Better than playing soldier?" said George inquiringly, and in a tone of
pleasantry. He had already organized the boys in Mr. William's school
into two armies, and more than one mimic battle had been fought.
"Yes, better than any sham thing," answered Mr. Williams. "It will be
study and diversion together--work and play--improving mind and body at
the same time."
"I see, I see," responded George. "I can abandon soldiering for that."
But he never did. There was too great fascination about military tactics
to allow of that. He devoted himself to surveying with commendable
application and rapid progress; but he continued, to some extent, the
chief sport of his school-days--mimic war.
George was not more than thirteen or fourteen years of age when he
surveyed the land about the school-house. He was the first pupil in Mr.
Williams' school who had performed such a practical piece of work, and
his school-mates were deeply interested in his exploit. He ranked high
as a scholar, and his manly bearing made him appear several years older
than he was. He led Mr. Williams' school, as he did that of Mr. Hobby,
in scholarship, behavior and physical prowess. He seemed born to lead,
and his associates were content to have it so.
One of his biographers speaks as follows of his first efforts at
surveying:
"When he had advanced so far in his study as to give him some idea of
the proper use and handling of the chain and compass, the two principal
instruments employed in this art, he began to put his knowledge into
practice by taking surveys of the farms lying in the immediate
neighborhood of his school-house.
"Assisted by his school-mates, he would follow up and measure off, with
the help of his long steel chain, the boundary lines between the farms,
such as fences, roads, and water-courses; then those dividing the
different parts of the same farm; determining at the same time, with the
help of his compass, their various courses, their crooks and windings,
and the angles formed at their points of meeting or intersection. This
would enable him to get at the shape and size not only of each farm, but
of every meadow, field and wood composing it. This done, he would make a
map or drawing on paper of the land surveyed, whereon would be clearly
traced the lines dividing the different parts with the name and number
of acres of each attached, while on the opposite page he would write
down the long and difficult tables of figures by which these results had
been reached. All this he would execute with as much neatness and
accuracy as if it had been left with him to decide thereby some gravely
disputed land-claim."
Irving says of him as a surveyor: "In this he schooled himself
thoroughly; making surveys about the neighborhood, and keeping regular
field-books, in which the boundaries and measurements of the fields
surveyed were carefully entered, and diagrams made with a neatness and
exactness, as if the whole related to important land transactions
instead of being mere school exercises. Thus, in his earliest days,
there was perseverance and completeness in all his undertakings. Nothing
was left half done, or done in a hurried and slovenly manner. The habit
of mind thus cultivated continued through life; so that however
complicated his tasks and overwhelming his cares, in the arduous and
hazardous situations in which he was often placed, he found time to do
everything, and _to do it well_. He had acquired the magic of method,
which of itself works wonders."
One day a dispute arose between two pupils respecting a chapter of
Virginia's early history--Captain Smith and Pocahontas.
"She saved his life," exclaimed one.
"Very true; but she was not the daughter of King Opechancanough, as you
say," replied the other.
"Whose daughter was she, then?"
"She was Powhattan's daughter; and her father was going to kill Captain
Smith."
"No, she was not Powhattan's daughter; I tell you that Opechancanough
was her father," rejoined the other with some warmth.
"And I tell you that Powhattan was her father, and Opechancanough was
her uncle. If you can't recite history more correctly than that you had
better keep still. Anybody knows that Pocahontas was the daughter of
Powhattan; and he was the greatest Indian chief in Virginia."
"And you are a conceited, ignorant fellow, to suppose that nobody knows
anything but yourself."
And so the dispute became more heated, until both parties were greatly
excited; whereupon a listening school-mate called out:
"Leave it to George; he will settle it."
"Agreed!" responded one.
"Agreed!" shouted the other.
And George was called in to settle the controversy, both parties
acquiescing in his decision.
George often acted as umpire among the boys in Mr. Williams' school.
Sometimes, as in the above instance, both parties chose him for umpire.
Their confidence in his word and judgment led them to submit cases of
trial or controversy to him, whether relating to studies or games. Many
disputes were thus brought to a speedy termination by his discriminating
and candid judgment.
Mr. Weems says of him at this time:
"He carried with him his virtues, his zeal for unblemished character,
his love of truth and detestation of whatever was false and base. A gilt
chariot with richest robes and liveried servants could not have
befriended him so well; for, in a short time, so completely had his
virtues secured the love and confidence of the boys, his _word_ was just
as current among them as a _law_. A very aged gentleman, formerly a
school-mate of his, has often assured me that nothing was more common,
when the boys were in high dispute about a question of fact, than for
some little shaver among the mimic heroes, to call out:
"'Well, boys, George Washington was there; George Washington was there;
he knows all about it; and if he don't say it was so, why, then we will
give it up.'
"'Done,' exclaimed the adverse party.
"Then away they would run to hunt for George. Soon as his verdict was
heard, the difficulty was settled, and all hands would return to play
again."
Another biographer, Mrs. Kirkland, says, "It is recorded of his school
days that he was always head boy; and whether this report be authentic
or not, we can easily imagine the case to have been so, not exclusively
by means of scholarship, perhaps, but by the aid of certain other
qualities, very powerful in school as elsewhere, and which he so
exhibited in after life. His probity, courage, ability and high sense of
justice were probably evident, even then, for there is every reason to
believe their foundations were laid very early. The boys would,
therefore, respect him, and choose him for an umpire in their little
troubles, as they are said to have done.... He was famous for hindering
quarrels, and perhaps his early taste for military manoeuvers was only
an accidental form of that love of mathematical combinations (the marked
trait of Napoleon's earlier years) and the tendency to order, promptness
and thoroughness, which characterized him so strikingly in after life.
The good soldier is by no means a man with a special disposition to
fight."
George was such an example of order, neatness, thorough scholarship and
exact behavior in Mr. Williams' school that we shall devote the next
chapter to these qualities.
IV.
METHOD AND THOROUGHNESS.
"These are finely done," remarked Lawrence Washington to George, after
an examination of the maps, copy-books, and writing-books, which George
brought with him from Mr. Williams' school. "It would be difficult for
any one to excel them."
"It takes considerable time to do them," remarked George.
"It takes time to do anything _well_," responded Lawrence, "but the
habit is worth everything to you."
"That is what Mr. Williams says," answered George. "He talks to the boys
often about doing things well."
"And no matter what it is that a boy is doing, if it is nothing more
than chopping wood, it pays to do it as well as he can," added Lawrence.
"Mr. Williams is an excellent teacher."
"I think so," responded George. "He makes everything so plain that we
can understand him; and he makes us feel that we shall need all we learn
most when we become men."
"Well, if you learn that last lesson thoroughly it will be of great
service to you every day," remarked Lawrence. "Many boys never stop to
think that they will soon be men, and so they are not fitted for the
duties of manhood when it comes."
"Mr. Williams talks much about method in study and work," continued
George. "He says that many persons accomplish little or nothing in life
because they are neither systematic nor thorough in what they do. 'A
place for everything and everything in its place,' is one of his
frequent remarks."
"And you must have produced these maps and copy-books under that rule,"
suggested Lawrence. "They are as excellent in orderly arrangement as
they are in neatness."
George spent his vacation with Lawrence, who really had charge of his
education after Mr. Washington died. Lawrence married the daughter of
William Fairfax three months after the death of his father, and settled
on the plantation which his father bequeathed to him, near Hunting
Creek, and to which Lawrence gave the name of Mount Vernon, in honor of
Admiral Vernon, under whom he did military service in the West Indies,
and for whom he cherished profound respect.
Lawrence was strongly attached to his young brother in whom he
discovered the elements of a future noble manhood. He delighted to have
him at his Mount Vernon home, and insisted that he should spend all his
time there when out of school. It was during a vacation that Lawrence
examined his maps and copy-books, as narrated, George having brought
them with him for his brother to inspect.
One of George's copy-books attracted much attention in school, because
it was unlike that of any other scholar, and it was an original idea
with him.
"What do you call it, George, and what do you ever expect to do with
it?" inquired a school-mate.
"You can call it what you please," replied George. "I expect that it
will be of great service to me when I become a man."
"That is looking a long way ahead, it seems to me," rejoined his
companion. "I prefer to know what will be of service to me _now_. You
can scarcely tell what will be best for you when you become a man."
"I know that what I am copying into that book will be of use to me in
manhood, because men use these forms. I call it a 'Book of Forms' for
the want of a better name." And George's words denoted entire confidence
in his original idea of the use of forms.
"Well, the book looks well anyway," continued his school-mate holding
the copy-book up to view. "As to that, I should like to see any work of
yours that does not look well. But what are these forms, anyhow?"
"They are receipts, bills of exchange, notes of hand, deeds, wills,
land-warrants, bonds and useful forms of that kind," answered George.
"If I have them here in this book together, they will be convenient for
use ten or twenty years hence."
"Yes, I see; you can run a lawyer's office on that book," suggested his
friend.
"A farmer's office, you mean. A farmer may find use for every form there
is in that book; and if he does not, it will be no disadvantage to him
to understand them."
"You are right, George, as you are usually. I shall know where to go for
a form when I want to make my will," remarked his companion in a
complimentary way.
"And I shall be glad to serve you without charge provided you remember
me," responded George. "I predict that many men will live who will be
glad to consult this book to help them out of difficulties."
Perhaps the forethought and sagacity of George were foreshadowed more
clearly by this copy-book than by any other. Its reference to the
necessities of manhood was so plain and direct as to prove that he kept
preparation for that period of life constantly in view. This book has
been carefully preserved, and may be seen to-day at Mount Vernon.
Another manuscript volume of his which has been preserved is a book of
arithmetical problems. It was customary, when George attended school, to
write the solution of problems in arithmetic in a blank-book--not the
result merely, but the whole process of solution. Sometimes the rules
were copied, also, into the book. It was a very good practice for a
studious, persevering, conscientious boy like George; but the method was
a wretched one for certain indolent pupils to whom study was penance;
for this class often relied upon these manuscript volumes to furnish
problems solved, instead of resorting to hard study. They were passed
around among the idle scholars clandestinely, to help them over hard
places without study. Mr. Williams forbade the deceitful practice, and
punished pupils who were discovered in the cheat; nevertheless, poor
scholars continued to risk punishment rather than buckle down to
persistent study. There is no doubt that George's book of problems,
copied in his clear, round hand, did considerable secret service in this
way. But the preparation of it was an excellent discipline for George.
Neatness, application, perseverance, thoroughness, with several other
qualities, were indispensable in the preparation of so fair a book.
In another copy-book George displayed a talent for sketching and
drawing, which elicited Mr. Williams' commendation.
"That portrait is well executed," he said. "You have a talent in that
direction, evidently; the likeness is good." It was the face of one of
the scholars, drawn with his pen.
"Have you practised much in this art?" continued Mr. Williams.
"No, sir; only a little, for amusement."
"Just to see what you could do?" added Mr. Williams, inquiringly.
"Yes, that is all."
"Well, I advise you to cultivate your talent for drawing. These animals
are well done, too. Practise will give you an ability in this line,
which may prove of real service to you in future years."
George had drawn animals, also, in the book, and he had given wings to
some birds with a flourish of his pen, showing both taste and tact
in the use of the pen. George was not a boy who believed in
_flourishes_, except those executed in ink. His interest in the art of
penmanship drew his attention to these as ornamental and ingenious.
"A facile use of the pen will always be serviceable to you," he said to
George. "No one can become too skilful in wielding it. But it requires
much careful practise."
"I have discovered that," answered George. "I do not expect to excel in
the art of penmanship."
"You may, with your application and perseverance," responded his
teacher. "'Perseverance conquers all things,' it is said, and I believe
it."
"But I have not time for everything," remarked George. "Odd moments are
all the time I can devote to such things."
"And odd moments have done much for some boys," added his teacher.
"Fragments of time well improved have made some men illustrious."
"It will take larger fragments of time than I have to make me
illustrious," suggested George, dryly.
"Perhaps not; you are not authorized to come to such a conclusion.
There are too many facts known to warrant it. Your industry and
resolution are equal to it."
George accepted the compliment in silence with his usual modesty,
considerably encouraged by his teacher's words to persevere in doing
things well.
This copy-book, containing sketches of his companions and pen-pictures
of birds and beasts, has been carefully preserved with others. It is a
valuable relic, too, as showing that George was not always the sedate,
serious boy he has generally been represented to be; for some of these
sketches border upon the comical, and evidently were intended to bring
a smile over the faces of his school-mates. Mixed with his usually
grave and practical way of doing things, they show more of the cheerful,
roguish boy than is accorded to George by writers in general.
Another copy-book contains many extracts, in prose and poetry, which
particularly interested George at the time. He was in the habit of
preserving in this way choice bits of prose and poetry for future use.
They were copied in his clear, fair handwriting, with every _i_ dotted
and every _t_ crossed, and every comma and period nicely made and
placed.
All these copy books, with other proofs of George's thorough scholarship
and progress, can now be seen at Mount Vernon, where he lived and died.
Irving says of these: "His manuscript school-books still exist, and are
models of neatness and accuracy. One of them, it is true, a ciphering
book, preserved in the library at Mount Vernon, has some school-boy
attempts at calligraphy; nondescript birds, executed with the flourish
of a pen, or profiles of faces, probably intended for those of his
school-mates; the rest are all grave and business-like. Before he
was thirteen years of age he had copied into a volume forms for all
kinds of mercantile and legal papers, bills of exchange, notes of hand,
deeds, bonds and the like. This early self-tuition gave him throughout
life a lawyer's skill in drafting documents, and a merchant's exactness
in keeping accounts; so that all the concerns of his various estates,
his dealings with his domestic stewards and foreign agents, his accounts
with governments, and all the financial transactions, are to this day to
be seen posted up in books, in his own handwriting, monuments of his
method and unvaried accuracy."
There was yet another manuscript more important, really, than those of
which we have spoken. It contained one hundred and ten rules for
regulating his conduct, to which he gave the title, "RULES OF BEHAVIOR
IN COMPANY AND CONVERSATION."
When Lawrence Washington examined this manuscript he remarked to his
wife, "It is remarkable that a boy of his years should make such a
collection of rules as this. They are creditable to a much older head
than his."
"They are not original with him, are they?" responded his wife.
"I think not; they must be a collection which he has made from time to
time. It would not be possible for a boy of his age to produce such a
code of manners and morals out of his own brain. Hear this," and he
proceeded to read some of the "Rules."
"Associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your
reputation, for it is better to be alone than in bad company."
"Good counsel, surely, and well expressed," remarked Mrs. Washington.
"It shows a degree of thoughtfulness and desire to be correct, beyond
his years," added Lawrence. "The other rules are no less practical and
significant." He continued to read:
"Every action in company ought to be with some sign of respect to those
present.
"Speak not when others speak; sit not when others stand. Speak not when
you should hold your peace. Walk not when others stop."
"That is paying attention to little things with a will," remarked Mrs.
Washington.
"And that is what impresses me," responded Lawrence. "Most boys think
that such small matters are beneath their notice, when attention to
these secures attention to more important things."
"Very true," replied his wife; "and it certainly shows a desire to be
correct in behavior that is commendable."
"And as unusual as it is commendable," added Lawrence. "It is such a
manly view of life as we seldom meet with, except in ripe manhood."
"Well, read more of his rules," suggested Mrs. Washington.
Lawrence continued to read, "In your apparel, be modest, and endeavor to
accommodate yourself to nature rather than to procure admiration; keep
to the fashion of your equals, such as are civil and orderly, with
respect to times and places.
"Wherein you reprove another, be unblamable yourself, for example is
better than precept.
"When a man does all he can, though it succeeds not well, blame not him
that did it."
"Not many men reduce these rules to practise very thoroughly," remarked
Lawrence. "To square one's life by these rules requires uncommon
circumspection and decision. Few are equal to it."
"I think that George comes as near doing it as any one," suggested Mrs.
Washington.
"I was just thinking of that," replied Lawrence. "I am not sure but his
manly bearing is owing to these rules. No one can think enough of them
to write them down carefully in a book without being more or less
influenced by their lessons."
"It would seem so," remarked Mrs. Washington; "but are there no rules
relating to our higher duties to God among the whole number?"
"Yes, several; but you should remember that these are rules of behavior
in company and conversation alone, and not our religious duties. But
here is one rule that lies in that direction":
"Labor to keep in your heart that little spark of celestial fire called
conscience."
"And here is another":
"If you speak of God or His attributes, let it be seriously, in
reverence; and honor and obey your parents."
"George has done that to perfection," remarked Lawrence. "Profanity and
disobedience, even in their least offensive form, he was never guilty
of. And here is still another rule having reference to our higher
obligations, which he has observed with commendable carefulness":
"Let your recreations be manful, not sinful."
"I think it is remarkable, as you say, that one so young as George
should make such a collection of rules," said Mrs. Washington. "May it
not be that a remarkable future is before him?"
"It may be, and I am inclined to think it will be," answered Lawrence.
"If a bright spring-time is the harbinger of an ample harvest, such a
youth must foreshadow noble manhood."
Thus were George's "Rules of Behavior in Company and Conversation"
discussed at Mount Vernon, and the young author of them was more admired
in consequence.
We will furnish our readers with more of his "Rules," since all of them
are important, and had much to do, doubtless, with the formation of
George's character.
"Speak not of doleful things in time of mirth, nor at the table; speak
not of melancholy things, as death and wounds; and if others mention
them, change, if you can, the discourse. Tell not your dreams but to
your intimate friend.
"Break not a jest when none take pleasure in mirth; laugh not loud, nor
at all, without occasion; deride no man's misfortune, though there seem
to be some cause.
"Speak not injurious words, neither in jest nor earnest; scoff at none,
although they give occasion.
"Seek not to lessen the merits of others; neither give more than due
praise.
"Go not thither where you know not whether you shall be welcome.
"Give not advice without being asked; and when desired, do it briefly.
"Reprove not the imperfections of others, for that belongs to parents,
masters and superiors.
"Gaze not on the marks and blemishes of others, and ask not how they
came. What you may speak in secret to your friend, deliver not before
others.
"Think before you speak; pronounce not imperfectly, nor bring out your
words too hastily, but orderly and distinctly.
"When another speaks, be attentive yourself, and disturb not the
audience. If any hesitate in his words, help him not, nor prompt him,
without being desired; interrupt him not, nor answer him, until his
speech be ended.
"Treat with men at right times about business, and whisper not, in the
company of others.
"Be not in haste to relate news if you know not the truth thereof.
"Be not curious to know the affairs of others, neither approach those
that speak in private.
"Undertake not what you cannot perform, but be careful to keep your
promise.
"Speak not evil of the absent, for it is unjust.
"Make no show of taking delight in your victuals. Feed not with
greediness. Cut your food with a knife, and lean not on the table;
neither find fault with what you eat.
"Be not a flatterer; neither play with any one that delights not to be
played with.
"Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of another, though he were
your enemy.
"It is good manners to prefer them to whom we speak before ourselves,
especially if they are above us; with whom in no sort ought we to begin.
"Strive not with your superiors in an argument, but always submit your
judgment to others with modesty.
"Undertake not to teach your equal in the art him self professes, for it
is immodest and presumptuous.
"Before you advise or find fault with any one, consider whether it ought
to be in public or in private; presently, or at some other time; in what
terms to do it; and, in reproving, show no sign of anger, but do it with
sweetness and mildness.
"Use no reproachful language against any one, neither curse nor revile.
"Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the injury of any.
"Play not the peacock, looking everywhere about you to see if you be
well-decked; if your shoes fit well; if your pantaloons sit neatly, and
clothes handsomely.
"Let your conversation be without malice or envy, for it is a sign of a
kindly and commendable nature; and in all cases of passion, admit reason
to govern.
"Utter not base and frivolous things amongst grave and learned men, nor
very difficult questions or subjects among the ignorant, nor things hard
to believe."
These are only a part of the Rules which George adopted for his
instruction and guidance through life. In weighing them, the reader must
feel the force of Everett's remarks, who said of them, "Among his
manuscripts still in existence, there is one, written under thirteen
years of age, which deserves to be mentioned as containing striking
indications of early maturity. The piece referred to is entitled 'Rules
of Behavior in Company and Conversation.' These rules are written out in
the form of maxims, to the number of one hundred and ten." "They form,"
says Mr. Sparks, "a minute code of regulations for building up the
habits of morals and manners and good conduct in very young persons."
Whether they were taken in a body from some manual of education, or
compiled by Washington himself from various books, or framed from his
own youthful observation and reflection, is unknown. The first is,
perhaps, the more probable supposition. If compiled by a lad under
thirteen, and still more, if the fruit of his own meditations, they
would constitute a most extraordinary example of early prudence and
thoughtfulness. Some of the rules which form a part of this youthful
code of manners and morals had their influence over Washington, and gave
a complexion to his habits through life.
That a boy of twelve or thirteen years should compile such a code of
manners and morals, shows, unmistakably, the bent of his mind. We
discover valuable elements of character in the formation and execution
of such a purpose. It is equally true, also, that his book of prose and
poetical extracts reveals his taste and aims no less surely than his
"Rules." The following extract, taken from that manuscript volume, tells
about the same story of the boy as his "Rules of Behavior" tell:--
"These are the things, which, once possessed,
Will make a life that's truly blest;
A good estate on healthy soil,
Not got by vice, nor yet by toil;
Round a warm fire a pleasant joke,
With chimney ever free from smoke;
A strength entire, a sparkling bowl,
A quiet wife, a quiet soul;
A mind, as well as body, whole;
Prudent simplicity, constant friends,
A diet which no art commends,
A merry night without much drinking,
A happy thought without much thinking.
Each night by quiet sleep made short,
A will to be but what thou art:
Possessed of these, all else defy,
And neither wish nor fear to die;
These are the things, which, once possessed,
Will make a life that's truly blest."
His strong love for simple, pure, domestic life appears in this
selection--a love for which he was distinguished to the day of his
death.
The school-days of George ended one month before he was sixteen years of
age. Mr. Hobby and Mr. Williams were his only teachers, except his
parents. "Not very rare opportunities," the reader will say. No larger
opportunities for mental culture now would be considered meagre indeed.
But he made the most of what he had, so that his small advantages did
more for him than the best opportunities do for less industrious and
noble boys.
A strong bond united him to his teacher and schoolmates. It was not so
much his scholarship as his character that endeared him to both teacher
and pupils. The secret of it was found in his _heart_ rather than his
head. His school-mates were moved to tears on parting with him, and so
was his teacher. And those tears were a sincere tribute to the unsullied
character of the boy.
V.
FOUR INCIDENTS AND THEIR LESSONS.
Certain incidents occurred in the young life of our hero, which so
forcibly illustrate leading elements of his character that we stop here
to record them.
His father came home one day so sick that he took to his bed at once. It
was a severe attack of an old complaint, which he had vainly tried to
remove.
"You must have the doctor," said Mrs. Washington, somewhat alarmed by
the severity of the attack.
"Wait a little, and see," replied her husband; "perhaps the usual
remedies will relieve me." He kept remedies in the house for such
attacks, and Mrs. Washington soon administered them. But the relief was
only partial, and a servant was sent for the doctor.
"Go in haste," said Mrs. Washington, as Jake mounted the horse and
galloped away. "Tell the doctor to come as soon as possible," were the
last words that Jake heard as he dashed forward. Mrs. Washington was
thoroughly alarmed. Returning to her husband's bedside, she said:
"I want to send for George."
"Not now," her husband answered. "I think the doctor will relieve me.
Besides, George has only just got there, and it is not well to disturb
him unnecessarily."
George had gone to visit friends at Chotana, about twenty miles distant,
where he proposed to spend his vacation.
Mrs. Washington yielded to her husband's desire, although intense
anxiety filled her heart. She seemed to have a presentiment that it was
her husband's last sickness. Back and forth she went from door to
bedroom, and from bedroom to door, awaiting with tremulous emotion the
coming of the physician, at the same time employing such remedies as she
thought might afford relief.
"A very sick man," was the doctor's verdict, "but I think we can relieve
him soon." His encouraging words lifted a burden from Mrs. Washington's
heart, although she still apprehended the worst, and yet she could
scarcely tell why.
"You think that he will recover?" she said to the doctor, as he was
leaving the house.
"I think so; he is relieved for the present, and I hope that he will
continue to improve," the doctor answered; and he answered just as he
felt.
Still Mrs. Washington could not disguise her fears. She was a devout
Christian woman, and she carried her burden to the Lord. She found some
relief in laying her anxieties upon the great Burden-bearer. She came
forth from communion with the Father of mercies more composed if not
more hopeful. She possessed a degree of willingness to leave her
companion in God's hand.
Mr. Washington was relieved of acute pain, but further than that he did
not improve. After continuing several days in this condition, he said to
his wife one morning:
"You may send for George to-day."
"I will," Mrs. Washington replied, bursting into tears. "I wish I had
sent before."
"It might have been as well had we known," Mr. Washington responded, in
a suggestive way.
"Do you think that your sickness will prove fatal?"
"I fear so. I think I am losing ground fast. I have failed very much in
strength the last twenty-four hours. God's will be done."
"I hope I shall have grace to say so honestly."
"And I trust that God will give me grace to say so with true
submission," continued Mr. Washington. "I should like to live if it is
God's will; but if He orders otherwise, we must accept His ordering as
best."
Mrs. Washington could say no more. Her cup of sorrow was full and
running over. But she sorrowed not as one without hope. Both she and her
husband had been active Christians. They were prominent working members
of the Episcopal Church. They knew, from happy experience, that solace
and support were found in divine grace, so that this sudden and terrible
affliction did not overtake them unawares, really. They were prepared
for it in an important sense.
The doctor called just as this interview closed, and he seconded Mr.
Washington's request to send for George.
"A great change has come over him since yesterday," he said to Mrs.
Washington.
"He just told me that he was sinking," replied Mrs. Washington.
"I fear it is so; and George better be sent for at soon as possible. A
few hours may bring the end." The physician spoke as if there were no
more ground for hope.
"May God have mercy on us," responded Mrs. Washington, as she hastened
from the room, with deep emotion, to despatch a servant for George.
Mr. Washington continued to sink rapidly during the day, his reason at
times wavering, though his distress was not acute. Conscious that he
could not survive many hours, he expressed an anxiety to see George once
more, and seemed impatient for his arrival.
It was almost night when George arrived, and his father was dying. His
mother met him at the door, with emotion too deep for utterance. Her
tears and despairing look told the story more plainly than words to
George. He knew that there was no hope.
Hastening into his father's presence he was appalled by the change. That
cheerful, loving face was struck with death. Fastening his eyes upon his
son, as if he recognized him, the dying man _looked_ his last farewell.
He could not speak nor lift a finger. He was almost "beyond the river."
George was completely overcome. Throwing himself upon his father's neck,
he broke into convulsive sobs, kissing him again and again, and giving
way to the most passionate grief. The scene was affecting beyond
description. All hearts were melted by the child's artless exhibition of
filial love and sorrow. He loved his father with a devotion that knew no
bounds, as he had reason to love him. Without this paternal friend, life
would lose its charm to him, and he "would never be glad any more." So
it seemed to him when he first was made conscious that his father was
dying. The great sorrow seemed too great for him to bear. His young
heart well nigh burst.
Here we have evidence of what George was as a son. He had not only loved
and reverenced his father, but he had obeyed him with true filial
respect. Obedience was one of his leading virtues. This endeared him to
his father. Their tender love was mutual. "George thought the world of
his father and his father thought the world of him." That dying scene in
the family was proof of it.
In a few days all that was mortal of Augustine Washington was committed
to the dust, and George was a fatherless boy. As we have already
intimated, this sudden affliction changed the current of George's life.
Different plans and different experiences followed.
Mr. Washington, with characteristic foresight, had made his will. Irving
says of it, "To Lawrence he gave the estate on the banks of the Potomac,
with other real property, and several shares in iron-works. To
Augustine, the second son by the first marriage, the old homestead and
estate in Westmoreland. The children by the second marriage were
severally well provided for; and George, when he became of age, was to
have the house and lands on the Rappahannock."
Mrs. Washington assumed the care of the estate after the death of her
husband, and continued her love of fine horses. She possessed several of
rare beauty and fleetness. Among them was an Arabian colt, full grown,
broken to the harness, but not to the saddle. He would not allow a man
to ride him. He was so high strung, and so fractiously opposed to any
one getting upon his back, that Mrs. Washington had forbidden any one on
the farm attempting the feat.
George had two or three young friends visiting him, and they were
admiring the antics of the colt in the meadow in front of the house.
"I should like to ride him," remarked George.
"Ride him!" exclaimed one of the number. "I thought nobody could ride
him. That is what I have heard."
"Well, I should like to try," continued George. "If I could once get
upon his back, I would run the risk anyway. He would prance some, I
guess."
"I should like to see you try, George," remarked another of his friends
present. "You can ride him if any one can. But how do you know that you
can't ride him? Have you ever tried?"
"No."
"Did any one ever try?"
"I believe Jake has; or, at least, he has tried to get on his back."
"If I were in your place I would see whether I could ride him or not,"
suggested his friend. "What's the harm?"
"Mother would not allow it," answered George; "She would expect to see
my brains beat out if I should attempt it."
"But your mother would like it if you succeeded in riding him," rejoined
his friend, by way of inducing him to make the attempt.
"I have no doubt she would; but if I should break my neck, instead of
the colt, she would not be glad at all."
"Of course not; but I don't see any particular need of breaking your
neck or limbs by making the attempt; and it would be a feather in your
cap to manage the colt. Suppose we try;" and this proposition was made
by George's companion in good faith.
"I have no fears for myself," answered George; "there is no danger in
trying to get upon his back that I see, and once there, I will risk
being thrown."
"That is so," continued his friend, "and suppose we try it some day."
After some more discussion upon the subject, George agreed to make the
attempt to mount the colt early the following morning, and his young
friend seconded his decision heartily.
The next morning, a full hour before breakfast-time, the boys were out,
eager to participate in the sport of conquering a wild colt. The colt
appeared to snuff trouble, for he was unusually gay and crank that
morning. His head and tail were up, as he went prancing around the
field, when the boys put in their appearance.
"Drive him into a corner!" exclaimed George.
"Drive the wind into a corner as easily," replied one of the boys, just
beginning to appreciate the difficulties of the situation.
"Well, he must be caught before he can be mounted," said George,
philosophically. "I did not promise to mount him until he was bridled."
"That is so," responded another boy, more hopeful of results. "That
corner yonder is a good place for the business," pointing to the
eastward.
So they all rallied to drive the colt into the proposed corner; and, in
the language of another who has described the scene, "after a deal of
chasing and racing, heading and doubling, falling down and picking
themselves up again, and more shouting and laughing than they had breath
to spare for, they at last succeeded in driving the panting and
affrighted young animal into the corner. Here, by some means or other
(it was difficult to tell precisely how) they managed to bridle him,
although at no small risk of a broken head or two from his heels, that
he seemed to fling about him in a dozen different directions at once."
"Lead him away from this corner," said one of the boys.
"Yes," answered George, "we must go well toward the centre of the field;
he will want room to throw me."
So, throwing the bridle-reins over the colt's neck, and taking hold of
the bridle close by the bits, the animal was led toward the centre of
the field.
Before the boys or the colt were aware of George's purpose, with one
bound he leaped upon the colt's back, and, seizing the reins, was
prepared for the worst. His playmates were as much astonished as the
animal was at this unexpected feat, and they rushed away to escape
disaster.
"Look out, George!" shouted one, as the colt reared and stood upon his
hind legs.
"He'll throw you, George, if you don't look out!" screamed another, as
the animal reversed his position and sent his hind legs high into the
air.
"Stick, George, stick!" they cried, as the colt dashed forward like the
wind a few rods, then stopped, reared, and kicked again, as if
determined to throw the rider. All the while George's companions were
alarmed at the fearful plunges of the animal, fearing that he would dash
him to the ground.
At length the furious beast took the bits between his teeth and plunged
forward upon the "dead run." George had no control over him as he dashed
forward like mad. He hung to the reins like a veteran horseman as the
wild creature leaped and plunged and kicked. His companions looked on in
breathless interest, expecting every moment to see the young rider
hurled to the ground. But, to their surprise, the colt stumbled,
staggered a few steps, and fell, George still upon his back. They ran to
the rescue, when George exclaimed, "The colt is dead!"
"Dead?" responded one of the boys in astonishment, "more likely his leg
is broken."
"No, he is dead, sure. See the blood running from his mouth."
Sure enough, the animal was dying. In his fearful plunging he had
ruptured a blood-vessel, and was bleeding to death. In a few moments the
young Arabian colt was dead.
"Too bad!" mournfully spoke George, with big tears starting to his eyes.
"I wish I had never made the attempt to ride him."
"_I_ wish so now," answered one of his companions; "but who ever thought
that the colt could kill himself?"
"Mother will feel bad enough now," continued George. "I am sorry that I
have caused her so much trouble."
"What shall you tell her?" inquired a companion.
"I shall tell her the truth," manfully answered George; "that is all
there is to tell about it."
The boys were soon at the breakfast-table, as cheerful as the
circumstances would permit.
"Well, boys, have you seen the Arabian colt in your walks this morning?"
Mrs. Washington inquired.
There was no reply for a moment. The boys looked at each other as if the
crisis had come, and they were not quite prepared for it. At length
George answered frankly:
"Mother, the colt is dead."
"Dead!" his mother exclaimed, "what can you mean, George?"
"He is certainly dead, mother."
"Have you seen him?"
"Yes; and I know that he is dead."
"How could such a thing happen?" said his mother, sadly and musingly.
"I will tell you all about it, mother," replied George, resolved upon
making a clean breast of the affair. He went on to narrate how he
arrived at the conclusion to ride the colt, not forgetting to say that
he thought his mother would be pleased with the act if he succeeded in
riding the fractious animal successfully. He described the manner of
catching, bridling, and mounting the colt, as well as his furious
plunging, rearing, and running; and he closed by the honest confession,
"I did wrong, mother, and I am very sorry that I attempted to ride the
colt. I hope that you will forgive me, and I will never be so
disobedient again."
"Forgive you, my son," his mother answered, evidently too well satisfied
with the truthfulness of her boy to think much of her loss, "your
frankness in telling me the truth is worth a thousand colts to me. Most
gladly do I forgive you, and trust that the lesson you are taught by
this unfortunate affair will go with you through life."
In this incident we discover the daring, adventurous spirit of George.
His courage was equal to his honesty. No act of his life approached so
nearly to disobedience as this. Yet the spirit of disobedience was not
in his heart. His mother had forbidden any one to ride the colt, but it
was because she feared the colt would injure them. "If I can ride him
successfully, and prove that he can be broken to the saddle, mother will
be delighted," he reasoned. His thoughts were of pleasing instead of
disobeying his mother. Were there any doubt on this point, his rehearsal
of the whole story, with no attempt to shield himself from censure,
together with his sincere desire to be forgiven, settles the question
beyond controversy.
After George left Mr. Williams' school, and had gone to reside with his
brother Lawrence at Mount Vernon, a companion discovered in his journal
several verses that breathed love for an unknown "lowland beauty."
"What is this, George?" he asked. "Are you the poet who writes such
lines as these?" And he read aloud the verses.
"To be honest I must acknowledge the authorship," George answered, with
his usual frankness. "But there is more truth than poetry in the
production, I imagine."
"I was suspicious of that," responded his friend. "That means that you
fell in love with some bewitching girl, I conclude."
"All of that," answered George, with no disposition to conceal anything.
"That accounts for your poetical turn of mind," continued his friend.
"I have heard it said that lovers take to poetry."
"I don't know about that; but I confess to being smitten by the
'lowland beauty,'" was George's honest answer.
"Who is she, and where does she live?"
"That is of no consequence now; she is nothing to me, although she is
much in my thoughts."
"Did she respond to your professions of love?"
"I never made any profession of love to her."
"How is that?"
"I am too young and bashful to take such a step; it would be foolish
indeed."
"Well, to love and keep it to one's self must be misery indeed,"
continued his companion.
"There is something in that," answered George, "and I shall not conceal
that it has made me unhappy at times."
"And it was a kind of relief to let your tender regard express itself in
poetry?" suggested his friend.
"Exactly so; and you are the only person in the world to whom I have
spoken of the affair."
We have introduced this incident to show the tender side of George's
heart. His gravity, decorum, and thoughtful habit were such as almost to
preclude the possibility of his being captivated by a "lowland beauty."
But this incident shows that he was much like the average boy of
Christendom in this regard.
Irving says: "Whatever may have been the reason, this early attachment
seems to have been a source of poignant discomfort to him. It clung to
him after he look a final leave of school in the autumn of 1747, and
went to reside with his brother Lawrence at Mount Vernon. Here he
continued his mathematical studies and his practice in surveying,
disturbed at times by recurrences of his unlucky passion. Though by no
means of a poetical temperament, the waste pages of his journal betray
several attempts to pour forth his amorous sorrows in verse. They are
mere common-place rhymes, such as lovers at his age are apt to write, in
which he bewails his
"'Poor, restless heart,
Wounded by Cupid's dart;'
and 'bleeding for one who remains pitiless of his griefs and woes.'
"The tenor of some of the verses induce us to believe that he never told
his love; but, as we have already surmised, was prevented by his
bashfulness.
"'Ah, woe is me, that I should love and conceal!
Long have I wished and never dare reveal.'
"It is difficult to reconcile one's self to the idea of the cool and
sedate Washington, the great champion of American liberty, a woe-worn
lover in his youthful days, 'sighing like a furnace,' and inditing
plaintive verses about the groves of Mount Vernon. We are glad of an
opportunity, however, of penetrating to his native feelings, and finding
that under his studied decorum and reserve _he had a heart of flesh
throbbing with the warm impulses of human nature_."
In another place, Irving refers to the affair again, and furnishes the
following bit of information:
"The object of this early passion is not positively known. Tradition
states that the 'lowland beauty' was a Miss Grimes of Westmoreland,
afterwards Mrs. Lee, and mother of General Henry Lee, who figured in
Revolutionary times as Light Horse Harry, and was always a favorite with
Washington, probably from the recollections of his early tenderness for
the mother."
George, as we have already intimated, spent his time out of school at
Mount Vernon, with his brother Lawrence, who had become a man of
considerable repute and influence for one of his years. Here he was
brought into contact with military men, and occasionally naval officers
were entertained by Lawrence. Often vessels anchored in the river, and
the officers enjoyed the abundant hospitality of the Mount Vernon
mansion. George was a close observer of what passed in his new home, and
a careful listener to the tales of war and a seafaring life frequently
told in his hearing. The martial spirit within him was aroused by these
tales of adventure and glory, and he was prepared for almost any
hardship or peril in the way of the object of his ambition. Besides, his
brother was disposed to encourage his aspirations in the direction of a
military life. He discovered the elements of a good soldier in the boy,
and really felt that distinction awaited him in a military career.
"How would you like a midshipman's berth on a British man-of-war?"
inquired Lawrence.
"I should like nothing better," George answered.
"You would then be in the service of the king, and have a chance to
prove your loyalty by your deeds," added Lawrence. "Your promotion would
be certain."
"If I deserved it," added George, with thoughtful interest.
"Yes, if you deserved it," repeated Lawrence; "and I have no doubt that
you would deserve it."
"But I fear that mother will not consent to such an arrangement,"
suggested George.
"I will confer with her upon the subject," replied Lawrence. "I think
she will take the same view of it that I do."
Lawrence did confer with his mother concerning this venture, and found
her wholly averse to the project.
"I can never consent that he should follow such a life," she said.
"But I am sure that he would distinguish himself there, and bring honor
to the family," urged Lawrence.
"Character is worth more than distinction," responded Mrs. Washington.
"I fear the effect of such a life upon his character."
"George can be trusted in any position, no matter what the temptations
may be," Lawrence pleaded.
"That may be true, and it may not be true," remarked Mrs. Washington.
"We ought not to incur the risk unless absolutely obliged to do it."
"If there be a risk," remarked Lawrence, doubtfully.
"Besides," continued Mrs. Washington, "I could not consent to his going
so far from home unless it were impossible for him to gain a livelihood
near by."
She was unyielding in this interview, and could see no reason why she
should consent to such a separation. But Lawrence persevered in his
efforts to obtain her consent, and finally it was given with manifest
reluctance. A writer describes what followed thus:
"Within a short time a British man-of-war moved up the Potomac, and
cast anchor in full view of Mount Vernon. On board of this vessel his
brother Lawrence procured him a midshipman's warrant, after having by
much persuasion gained the consent of his mother; which, however, she
yielded with much reluctance and many misgivings with respect to the
profession her son was about to choose. Not knowing how much pain all
this was giving his mother, George was as near wild with delight as
could well be with a boy of a nature so even and steady. Now, what had
all along been but a waking dream was about to become a solemn reality.
His preparations were soon made: already was his trunk packed, and
carried on board the ship that was to bear him so far away from his
native land; and nothing now remained but to bid farewell to the loved
ones at home. But when he came and stood before his mother, dressed in
his gay midshipman's uniform, so tall and robust in figure, so handsome
in face, and so noble in look and gesture, the thought took possession
of her mind, that, if she suffered him to leave her then, she might
never see him more; and losing her usual firmness and self-control, she
burst into tears.
"'I cannot consent to let you go,' she said, at length. 'It will break
my heart, George.'
"'How can I refuse to go now that I have enlisted, and my trunk is on
board?' pleaded George.
"'Order your trunk ashore, and return your uniform, my son, if you do
not wish to crush your mother's heart,' responded Mrs. Washington. 'I
cannot bear the thought.'"
George was overcome by the spectacle of his mother's grief, and with the
tears running down his cheeks he replied, like the young hero that he
was:
"'Mother, I can never go and cause you so much grief. I will stay at
home.'"
His trunk was brought ashore, his uniform was returned, his tears were
wiped away, and he was happier in thus yielding to his mother's
reasonable request than he could or would have been in gratifying his
own wishes.
The higher and nobler qualities of manly character here triumphed over
the lower passions and desires. It was an excellent discipline for
George, while, at the same time, the incident exhibits the sterling
qualities of his heart.
The four incidents narrated present different aspects of George's
character, and show, without additional proof, that he was an uncommon
boy. The several qualities displayed in these experiences lie at the
foundation of human excellence. Without them the future career of a
youth may prove a failure. With them, a manly, virtuous character is
well nigh assured.
VI.
HIS MOTHER.
"Obedience and truthfulness are cardinal virtues to be cultivated,"
remarked Mrs. Washington to her husband, with whom she frequently
discussed the subject of family government. "No son or daughter can form
a reliable character without them."
"There can be no question about that," answered Mr. Washington; "and for
that reason these virtues are just as necessary for the state as they
are for the family; reliable citizens cannot be made without them any
more than reliable sons and daughters."
"I suppose that God means to make reliable citizens out of obedient and
truthful children," continued Mrs. Washington. "Good family government
assures good civil government. We must learn to obey before we know how
to govern."
"And I think that obedience to parents is likely to be followed by
obedience to God," responded Mr. Washington. "Disobedience is attended
by a state of mind that is inimical to sincere obedience to God."
"The Bible teaches that plainly," replied Mrs. Washington. "There is
something very tender and impressive in the lesson, 'Children, obey your
parents in the Lord: for this is right. Honor thy father and mother;
which is the first commandment with promise; that it may be well with
thee, and thou mayst live long on the earth.' A longer and better life
is promised to those who obey their parents, and it must be because they
are led to God thereby."
"Obedience is the _first_ commandment, according to that," remarked Mr.
Washington, "the most important of all, and I have no doubt of it. We
are to begin _there_ in order to make children what they ought to be."
"The consequences of disobedience as threatened in the Scriptures are
fearful," added Mrs. Washington. "There could scarcely be more startling
words than these: 'The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to
obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the
young eagles shall eat it.' Disobedience to and irreverence for parents
must be wicked, indeed, to warrant such a threatening."
Here was the secret of Mrs. Washington's successful family government.
That George owed more to faithful maternal example and training than he
did to any other influence, he always believed and acknowledged. And
OBEDIENCE was the first commandment in the Washington family. George
Washington Parke Custis, a grandson, said:
"The mother of Washington, in forming him for those distinguished parts
he was destined to perform, _first taught him the duties of_ OBEDIENCE,
the better to prepare him for those of command. In the well-ordered
domicile where his early years were passed, the levity and indulgence
common to youth was tempered by a deference and well-regulated restraint
which, while it curtailed or suppressed no rational enjoyment usual in
the spring-time of life, prescribed those enjoyments within the bounds
of moderation and propriety.
"The matron held in reserve an authority which never departed from her;
not even when her son had become the most illustrious of men. It seemed
to say, 'I am your mother, the being who gave you life, the guide who
directed your steps when they needed the guidance of age and wisdom, the
parental affection which claimed your love, the parental authority
which commanded your obedience; whatever may be your success, whatever
your renown, next to your God you owe them most to me.' Nor did the
chief dissent from these truths; but to the last moments of the life of
his venerable parent, he yielded to her will the most dutiful and
implicit obedience, and felt for her person and character the most holy
reverence and attachment."
Lawrence Washington, Esq., of Chotauk, a relative and playmate of George
in boyhood, described the home of the mother as follows:
"I was often there with George, his playmate, school-mate, and young
man's companion. Of the mother I was ten times more afraid than I ever
was of my own parents. She awed me in the midst of her kindness, for she
was, indeed, truly kind. I have often been present with her sons,
proper, tall fellows, too, and we were all as mute as mice; and even
now, when time has whitened my locks, and I am the grandparent of a
second generation, I could not behold that remarkable woman without
feelings it is impossible to describe. Whoever has seen that
awe-inspiring air and manner so characteristic in the Father of his
Country will remember the matron as she appeared when the presiding
genius of her well-ordered household, COMMANDING AND BEING OBEYED."
Mrs. Washington commanded obedience of her servants and agents as she
did of her children. On one occasion she ordered an employee to perform
a certain piece of work in a prescribed way. On going to the field she
was disappointed.
"Did I not tell you to do that piece of work?" she inquired of him.
"Yes, madam."
"Did I not direct you _how_ to do it?"
"Yes, madam."
"Then why have you not done as you were directed to do?"
"Because I thought my way of doing it was better than yours," the
servant answered.
"Pray, tell me, who gave you any exercise of judgment in the matter? I
_command_ you, sir; there is nothing left for you but to obey."
So obedience was the law of her homestead. Outside and inside it seemed
order, harmony, and efficiency.
There was one volume upon which she relied next to the Bible,--"Sir
Matthew Hale's Contemplations, Moral and Divine."
Everett said of the influence of this book upon the life of Washington,
"It would not be difficult to point out in the character of Washington
some practical exemplification of the maxims of the Christian life as
laid down by that illustrious magistrate."
That Mrs. Washington made this volume the basis of her home instruction,
there is ample proof. The character of her son bore faithful witness to
the fidelity with which she taught and enforced the excellent counsels
which the distinguished author gave in his "Contemplations." It will
assist our purpose to cite some of its lessons in brief, as follows:
"An humble man leans not to his own understanding; he is sensible of the
deficiency of his own power and wisdom, and trusts not in it; he is also
sensible of the all-sufficient power, wisdom, and goodness of Almighty
God, and commits himself to Him for counsel, guidance, direction, and
strength."
"Consider what it is thou pridest thyself in, and examine well the
nature of the things themselves, how little and inconsiderable they are;
at least how uncertain and unstable they are."
"Thou hast, it may be, wealth, stores of money; but how much of it is of
use to thee? That which thou spendest is gone; that which thou keepest
is as insignificant as so much dirt or clay; only thy care about it
makes thy life the more uneasy."
"Thou has honor, esteem; thou art deceived, thou hast it not. He hath it
that gives it thee, and which He may detain from thee at pleasure."
"Much time might be saved and redeemed, in retrenching the unnecessary
waste thereof, in our ordinary sleep, attiring and dressing ourselves,
and the length of our meals as breakfasts, dinners, suppers; which,
especially in this latter age, and among people of the better sort, are
protracted to an immoderate and excessive length."
"Gaming, taverns, and plays, as they are pernicious, and corrupt
youth; so, if they had no other fault, yet they are justly to be
declined in respect to their excessive expense of time, and habituating
men to idleness and vain thoughts, and disturbing passions, when they
are past, as well as while they are used."
"Be obstinately constant to your devotion at certain times, and be sure
to spend the Lord's Day entirely in those religious duties proper for
it; and let nothing but an inevitable necessity divert you from it."
"Be industrious and faithful to your calling. The merciful God has not
only indulged us with a far greater portion of time for our ordinary
occasions than he has reserved for himself, but also enjoins and
requires our industry and diligence in it."
"Honesty and plain dealings in transactions, as well public as private,
is the best and soundest prudence and policy, and overmatch craft and
subtlety."
"To rob for burnt offerings, and to lie for God, is a greater disservice
to His Majesty than to rob for rapine or lie for advantage."
"As he is overcareful that will not put on his clothes for fear of
wearing them out, or use his axe for fear of hurting it, so he gives but
an ill account of a healthy body that dares not employ it in a suitable
occupation for fear of hurting his health."
"Improve the opportunity of place, eminence, and greatness to serve God
and your country, with all vigilance, diligence, and fidelity."
"Reputation is not the thing primarily to be looked after in the
exercise of virtue, for that is to affect the substance for the sake of
the shadow, which is a kind of levity and weakness of mind; but look at
virtue and the worth of it, as that which is first desirable, and
reputation as a fair and useful accession to it."
"Take a man that is employed as a statesman or politician, though he
have much wisdom and prudence, it commonly degenerates into craft and
cunning and pitiful shuffling, without the fear of God; but mingle the
fear of Almighty God with that kind of wisdom, and it renders it noble
and generous and honest and stable."
"Whatever you do, be very careful to retain in your heart a _habit of
religion_, that may be always about you, and keep your heart and life
always as in His presence, and tending towards Him."
We might quote much more of equal value from this treasury of wisdom.
The book touches humanity at almost every point, and there is scarcely
any lesson, relating to the elements of success in life, which it does
not contain. Industry, perseverance, self-denial, decision, energy,
economy, frugality, thoroughness, magnanimity, courage, fidelity,
honesty, principle, and religion,--these, and all other indispensable
human qualities, receive careful and just attention. And we repeat,
George Washington's character was formed upon the basis of those
instructions, under the moulding power of a superior mother.
Mrs. Washington descended from a family of distinction among the
Virginia colonists. Mr. Paulding says of her: "As a native of Virginia,
she was hospitable by birthright, and always received her visitors with
a smiling welcome. But they were never asked to stay but once, and she
always speeded the parting guest by affording every facility in her
power. She possessed all those domestic habits and qualities that confer
value on women, and had no desire to be distinguished by any titles but
those of a good wife and mother."
She was a very resolute woman, and exercised the most complete
self-control in the presence of danger and difficulties. There was but a
single exception to this remark, she was afraid of thunder and lightning.
At fifteen years of age she was walking with a young female friend, when
they were overtaken by a fearful thunder-shower, and her friend was
struck by lightning at her side and instantly killed. The terrible
calamity wrought seriously upon her nervous system, and from that time
she was unable to control her nerves during a thunder-storm. Otherwise
she was one of the most fearless and resolute women ever born in
Virginia.
Mrs. Washington was not regarded as a superstitious woman, yet she had a
dream when George was about five years old which so deeply impressed her
that she pondered it through life. Mr. Weems gives it as she told it to
a neighbor more than once, as follows:
"I dreamt," said the mother of Washington, "that I was sitting on the
piazza of a large new house, into which we had but lately moved. George,
at that time about five years old, was in the garden with his corn-stalk
plough, busily running little furrows in the sand, in imitation of Negro
Dick, a fine black boy, with whose ploughing George was so taken that
it was sometimes a hard matter to get him to his dinner. And so, as I
was sitting on the piazza at my work, I suddenly heard in my dream a
kind of roaring noise on the _eastern_ side of the house. On running out
to see what was the matter, I beheld a dreadful sheet of fire bursting
from the roof. The sight struck me with a horror which took away my
strength, and threw me, almost senseless, to the ground. My husband and
the servants, as I saw in my dream, soon came up; but, like myself, were
so terrified at the sight that they could make no attempt to extinguish
the flames. In this most distressing state the image of my little son
came, I thought, to my mind, more dear and tender than ever, and turning
towards the garden where he was engaged with his little corn-stalk
plough, I screamed out twice with all my might, '_George_! _George_!' In
a few moments, as I thought, he threw down his mimic plough, and ran to
me, saying, '_High! ma! what makes you call so angry! ain't I a good
boy? don't I always run to you soon as I hear you call_?' I could make
no reply, but just threw up my arms towards the flame. He looked up and
saw the house all on fire; but instead of bursting out a-crying, as
might have been expected from a child, he instantly _brightened_ up and
seemed ready to fly to extinguish it. But first looking at me with great
tenderness, he said, '_O ma, don't be afraid! God Almighty will help us,
and we shall soon put it out_.' His looks and words revived our spirits
in so wonderful a manner that we all instantly set about to assist him.
A ladder was presently brought, on which, as I saw in my dream, he ran
up with the nimbleness of a squirrel and the servants supplied him with
water, which he threw on the fire from an _American gourd_. But that
growing weaker, the flame appeared to gain ground, breaking forth and
roaring most dreadfully, which so frightened the servants that many of
them, like persons in despair, began to leave him. But he, still
undaunted, continued to ply it with water, animating the servants at the
same time, both by his words and actions. For a long time the contest
appeared very doubtful; but at length a venerable old man, with a tall
cap and an iron rod in his hand, like a lightning-rod, reached out to
him a curious little trough, like a _wooden shoe_! On receiving this he
redoubled his exertions, and soon extinguished the fire. Our joy on the
occasion was unbounded. But he, on the contrary, showing no more of
transport now than of terror before, looked rather sad at the sight of
the great harm that had been done. Then I saw in my dream that after
some time spent as in deep thought, he called out with much joy, '_Well
ma, now if you and the family will but consent, we can make a far better
roof than this ever was_; a roof of such a _quality_ that, if well _kept
together_, it will last forever; but if you take it apart, you will make
the house ten thousand times worse than it was before.'"
Mr. Weems adds: "This, though certainly a very curious dream, needs no
Daniel to interpret it, especially if we take Mrs. Washington's new
house for the young colony government; the fire on its east side for
North's civil war; the gourd, which George first employed, for the
American three and six months' enlistments; the old man, with his cap
and iron rod, for Dr. Franklin; the _shoe-like_ vessel which he reached
to George for the sabot, or wooden-shoed nation, the French whom
Franklin courted a long time for America; and the new roof proposed by
George for a staunch, honest Republic, that '_equal government_' which,
by guarding alike the welfare of all, ought by all to be so heartily
beloved as to _endure forever_."
There are many anecdotes told of her which illustrate her character
better than plain statement.
The death of her husband was a crushing blow to her; yet, on the whole,
her Christian hope triumphed. Friends offered to assist her in the
management of her large estate, for all the property left to her
children was to be controlled by her until they each one became of age.
"No," she answered, "God has put the responsibility upon me by the death
of my husband, and I must meet it. He will give me wisdom and strength
as I need it."
"But it is too much care and labor for a woman," suggested one, thinking
that what had required the constant and careful attention of a man could
not be added to the cares of a woman, whose hands were full with
household duties before.
"We can bear more and do more than we think we can when compelled by the
force of circumstances," replied Mrs. Washington. "In ourselves we are
weak, and can do but little; but by the help of God we are made equal to
the demands of duty."
"Equal to all that comes within the bounds of reason," responded the
relative, intending that it was unreasonable for the mother of five
young children, the eldest but eleven years old, to undertake so much.
"Certainly; and the _demands of duty_ are always within the bounds of
reason," answered Mrs. Washington; "that was what I said. Providence has
laid this burden of care and labor upon me, and upon no one else. While
I shall be very thankful for advice and assistance from my friends, I
must not shrink from the cares of this new position."
It was in this spirit that Mrs. Washington took up the additional duties
devolved upon her by the sudden death of her husband. In view of this
fact, Mr. Sparks paid her the following just tribute:
"In these important duties Mrs. Washington acquitted herself with great
fidelity to her trust, and with entire success. Her good sense,
assiduity, tenderness, and vigilance overcame every obstacle; and, as
the richest reward of a mother's solicitude and toil, she had the
happiness to see all her children come forward with a fair promise into
life, filling the sphere allotted them in a manner equally honorable to
themselves, and to the parent who had been the only guide of their
principles, conduct, and habits. She lived to witness the noble career
of her eldest son, till, by his own rare merits, he was raised to the
head of a nation, and applauded and revered by the whole world. It has
been said that there never was a great man, the elements of whose
greatness might not be traced to the original characteristics or early
influence of his mother. If this be true, how much do mankind owe to the
mother of Washington?"
Irving said: "She proved herself worthy of the trust. Endowed with
plain, direct, good sense, thorough conscientiousness, and prompt
decision, she governed her family strictly, but kindly, exacting
deference while she inspired affection. George, being her eldest son,
was thought to be her favorite, yet she never gave him undue preference;
and the implicit deference exacted from him in childhood continued to be
habitually observed by him to the day of her death. He inherited from
her a high temper and a spirit of command, but her early precepts and
example taught him to restrain and govern that temper, and to square his
conduct on the exact principles of equity and justice.
"Tradition gives an interesting picture of the widow, with her little
flock gathered round her, as was her daily wont, reading to them lessons
of religion and morality out of some standard work. Her favorite volume
was Sir Matthew Hale's 'Contemplations, Moral and Divine.' The admirable
maxims therein contained for outward actions, as well as for
self-government, sank deep into the mind of George, and doubtless had a
great influence in forming his character. They certainly were
exemplified in his conduct throughout life. This mother's manual,
bearing his mother's name, Mary Washington, written with her own hand,
was ever preserved by him with filial care, and may still be seen in the
archives of Mount Vernon."
When her son first engaged in the war against the French and Indians,
she appeared to be indifferent to the honor conferred upon him.
"You must go at the call of your country, but I regret that it is
necessary, George," she said, when he paid her his farewell visit. "May
the Lord go with you, and preserve you and the country!"
"And may He preserve and bless you, whether He preserves me or not!"
answered her son. "The perils of war render my return uncertain, to say
the least; and it is always wise to be prepared for the worst."
"I trust that I am prepared for anything that Providence orders,"
responded Mrs. Washington, "though it is with pain that I approach this
separation. These trying times require great sacrifices of all, and we
must make them cheerfully."
"Victory would not be far away if all possessed that spirit," answered
the young commander. "If there is patriotism enough in the country to
defend our cause, the country will be saved."
That Washington himself was deeply affected by this interview, his own
tears, when he bade his mother final adieu, bore unmistakable witness.
When the news of his crossing the Delaware, at a time of great peril and
gloom in the land, was brought to her, she exclaimed, raising her hand
heavenward, "Thank God! thank God for the success!"
There appeared to be no recognition of peculiar wisdom and skill on the
part of her son, though the friends gathered were full of his praise.
"The country is profoundly grateful to your son for his achievements,"
suggested one; "and the praise of his countrymen knows no bounds."
"I have no doubt that George deserves well of his country," Mrs.
Washington replied, "but, my good sir, here is too much flattery."
"No flattery at all, but deserved praise," her friend and neighbor
retorted.
"Well, I have no fears about George," she replied. "He will not forget
the lessons I have taught him; he will not forget _himself_, though he
is the subject of so much praise."
After her son had left for Cambridge, Mass., to take charge of the
troops, her son-in-law, Mr. Fielding Lewis, offered to lighten her
labors by taking care of her property, or some part of it at least.
"No, Fielding, it is not necessary; I am competent to attend to it
myself," she answered.
"I did not question your competency; I only wanted to relieve you of
some care," the son-in-law answered.
"I understand and appreciate your kindness," she said; "but,
nevertheless, I must decline your offer. My friends are all very kind to
me, and I feel very grateful, but it is better for me to bear this
responsibility as long as I can."
After discussing the subject still further, Mrs. Washington yielded in
part to his request; she said:
"Fielding, you may keep my books in order, as your eyesight is better
than mine, but leave the executive management to me."
When Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, Washington despatched a
messenger to convey the glad tidings to his mother at Fredericksburg. At
once her friends and neighbors called with great enthusiasm to honor her
as the mother of the conqueror of England.
"Bless God!" she exclaimed, on receipt of the news. "The war will now be
ended, and peace and independence and happiness bless the country."
"Your son is the most illustrious general in the world," remarked one.
"The nation idolizes him," said another.
"The soldiers almost worship him," still another.
"The saviour of his country," announced a fourth in jubilant state of
mind, desiring, at the same time, to gratify his mother.
But none of these lofty tributes to her son afforded her pleasure; they
seemed to annoy her by causing her to feel that the divine blessing was
overlooked.
"We must not forget the great Giver, in our joy over the success of our
arms," she said.
She had never forgotten Him. During those six long years of conflict,
her hope had been inspired, and her comfort found, at the mercy-seat.
Daily, during the warm season of the year, she had repaired to a
secluded spot near her dwelling to pray for her George and her country.
At other seasons of the year she daily remembered them within her quiet
home. However gratified she may have been with the honors lavished upon
her son, she would not allow herself to honor the creature more than the
Creator.
As soon as possible after the surrender of Cornwallis, Washington
visited his mother at Fredericksburg, attended by his splendid suite.
The latter were extremely anxious to behold and honor the aged matron,
whom their illustrious chief respected and loved so sincerely.
On arriving at Fredericksburg, he quartered his suite comfortably, and
then repaired alone and on foot to see his mother, whom he had not seen
for over six years. She met him at the door with feelings we cannot
conceive, much less describe.
In silence and tears they embraced each other, with that tender, mutual
pledge of undying love--a kiss.
"God has answered my prayers, George, and I praise Him that I see your
face again," she said.
"Yes, my dear mother, God has indeed heard your prayers, and the thought
that you were interceding for me at the throne of grace was always an
inspiration to me," answered the son.
"How changed, George!" the mother remarked, scanning his face closely,
and noticing that he had grown old rapidly. "You bear the marks of war."
"True, men grow old fast in war," the son replied; "but my health is
good, and rest and peace will soon make me as good as new."
"For that I shall devoutly pray," Mrs. Washington responded.
For an hour, and more, the conversation continued, the mother making
many inquiries concerning his health and future plans, the prospects of
peace and prosperity to the country, and kindred subjects; but she did
not drop a single word respecting his fame.
The inhabitants of Fredericksburg and vicinity immediately arranged for
a grand military ball in honor of Gen. Washington and his staff. Such an
occasion would furnish a favorable opportunity for the members of
Washington's staff to meet his mother.
At that time, as now, it was customary for military and civic leaders to
allow their joy over happy occasions to ooze out through their heels. We
are unable to explain the phenomenon; but the fact remains, that a ball
on a grand scale was planned, to which Washington's mother was specially
invited. Her reply to the flattering invitation was characteristic.
"Although my dancing days are pretty well over, I shall be most happy to
contribute what I can to the general festivity."
Mrs. Washington was then over seventy years of age.
It was the gayest assembly ever convened in Virginia at that time, and
perhaps the occasion was the merriest. Gay belles and dignified matrons
graced the occasion, arrayed in rich laces and bright brocades, the well
preserved relics of scenes when neither national misfortune nor private
calamity forbade their use.
In addition to Washington's staff, many other military officers were
present, all gorgeously dressed, contributing largely to the beauty and
grandeur of the scene.
"But despite the soul-soothing charm of music," says a writer, "the
fascinations of female loveliness, and the flattering devotion of the
gallant brave, all was eager suspense and expectation, until there
entered, unannounced and unattended, the mother of Washington, leaning
on the arm of her son.
"The large audience at once paid their respects to the honored guests,
the mother of the chief being the central figure of the occasion.
Washington presented American and European officers to his mother, who
wore the simple but becoming and appropriate costume of the Virginia
ladies of the olden time, while the sincere congratulations of the whole
assembly were tendered to her."
The writer just quoted continues:
"The European strangers gazed long in wondering amazement upon the
sublime and touching spectacle. Accustomed to the meretricious display
of European courts, they regarded with astonishment her unadorned
attire, and the mingled simplicity and majesty for which the language
and manners of the mother of Washington were so remarkable."
When the clock struck nine, the venerable lady arose, and said:
"Come, George, it is time for old people to be at home."
Then expressing her gratification at being able to be present on so
extraordinary an occasion, and wishing the company much joy, she
retired, as she came, leaning on the arm of her son.
This picture of beautiful simplicity and absence of pride, in the midst
of distinguished honors, contrasts finely with a scene in the life of
another great general, Napoleon. On one occasion, when Napoleon gave
audience to famous guests, together with several members of his family,
his mother advanced towards him. According to a royal custom, the
emperor extended his hand to her to kiss, as he had done when his
brothers and sisters approached him.
"No," responded his mother; "you are the king, the emperor of all the
rest, but you are _my son_."
Mrs. Washington was always actuated by a similar sense of propriety; and
her demeanor towards the general seemed to say, "You are my son." And
the general accepted that exhibition of maternal dignity and love as
proper and honorable.
At the close of the Revolution, Lafayette, before leaving the country,
visited Mrs. Washington at her home. One of her grandsons accompanied
him to the house. As they approached, the grandson said, pointing to an
old lady in the garden:
"There is my grandmother in the garden."
"Indeed!" answered Lafayette. "I am happy to find her able to be out."
Lafayette saluted her in his cordial way on coming up to her, when she
replied:
"Ah, Marquis, you see an old woman; but come, I can make you welcome to
my poor dwelling without the parade of changing my dress."
"I come to bid you adieu before leaving the country," remarked
Lafayette, when they were seated in the house. "I desired to see you
once more."
"I assure you that nothing could afford me more real pleasure than to
welcome once more to my home so distinguished a friend of my son and my
country," Mrs. Washington answered.
"I congratulate you upon having such a son and such a country,"
continued Lafayette.
"I trust that I am grateful for both," Mrs. Washington replied.
"I rejoice with you in your son's well-earned fame," continued the
distinguished Frenchman, "and I am glad that you have lived to see this
day."
Lafayette proceeded to rehearse the patriotic deeds of Washington for
his country, growing more and more enthusiastic in his praise as he
continued, until finally Mrs. Washington remarked:
"_I am not surprised at what George has done, for he was always a good
boy._"
Washington retired to his home at Mount Vernon at the close of the war,
and earnestly entreated his mother to take up her abode with him.
"You are too aged and infirm to live alone," he said, "and I can have no
greater pleasure than to have you in my family."
"I feel truly grateful for your kindness, George, but I enjoy my mode of
life," she answered. "I think it is according to the direction of
Providence."
"It would not be in opposition to Providence if you should come to live
with me," responded Washington with a smile.
"Nevertheless, I must decline. I thank you from the bottom of my heart
for your interest and love, _but I feel fully competent to take care of
myself_."
That settled the question, and she remained at Fredericksburg.
When Washington was elected President of the United States, he paid a
farewell visit to his mother. He was about to depart for the seat of
government, which was in New York City.
"I would gladly have avoided this responsibility for your sake, as well
as mine," remarked Washington; "but Providence seemed to leave me no way
of escape, and I have come to bid you an affectionate farewell."
"You are in the way of duty, George, and I have no desire to interpose,"
his mother answered. "My race is almost run, and I shall never see you
again in the flesh."
"I hope we shall meet again; though at your great age, and with such a
serious disease upon you, the end cannot be far away," replied the son.
Mrs. Washington was then eighty-three years of age, and was suffering
from a cancer in the breast.
"Yes, I am old and feeble, and growing more so every day," continued his
mother; "and I wait the summons of the Master without fear or anxiety."
Pausing a moment, as if to control emotion, she added, "Go, George, and
fulfil the high destiny to which Providence calls you; and may God
continue to guide and bless you!"
At this point let Mr. Custis speak:
"Washington was deeply affected. His head rested upon the shoulder of
his parent, whose aged arm feebly, yet fondly, encircled his neck. That
brow, on which fame had wreathed the purest laurel virtue ever gave to
created man, relaxed from its lofty bearing. That look, which would have
awed a Roman senate in its Fabrician day, was bent in filial tenderness
upon the time-worn features of the aged matron. He wept. A thousand
recollections crowded upon his mind, as memory, retracing scenes long
passed, carried him back to the maternal mansion and the days of
juvenility, where he beheld that mother, whose care, education, and
discipline caused him to reach the topmost height of laudable ambition.
Yet, how were his glories forgotten while he gazed upon her whom, wasted
by time and malady, he should part with to meet no more!"
Washington never saw his mother again. She died Aug. 25, 1789. Her last
days were characterized by that cheerful resignation to the divine will
for which she was ever distinguished, and she passed away in the
triumphs of Christian faith.
Her remains were laid in the burial ground of Fredericksburg, in a spot
which she selected, because it was situated near the place where she was
wont to retire for meditation and prayer. For many years her grave was
unmarked by slab or monument; but in 1833, Silas E. Barrows, Esq., of
New York City, undertook the erection of a monument at his own expense.
On the seventh day of May of that year, President Jackson laid the
corner-stone in the presence of a great concourse of people. It was
estimated that more than fifteen thousand persons assembled to honor the
dead.
The plan of the monument was pyramidical, and the height of the obelisk
forty-five feet. A colossal bust of Washington adorned the shaft,
surmounted by the American eagle sustaining a civic crown above the
hero's head, and with the simple inscription:
MARY,
THE MOTHER OF
WASHINGTON.
From President Jackson's eulogy on the interesting occasion, we make the
following brief extract:
"In the grave before us lie the remains of his mother. Long has it been
unmarked by any monumental tablet, but not unhonored. You have
undertaken the pious duty of erecting a column to her name, and of
inscribing upon it the simple but affecting words, 'Mary, the Mother of
Washington.' No eulogy could be higher, and it appeals to the heart of
every American.... The mother and son are beyond the reach of human
applause, but the bright example of paternal and filial excellence which
their conduct furnishes cannot but produce the most salutary effects
upon our countrymen. Let their example be before us from the first
lesson which is taught the child, till the mother's duties yield to the
course of preparation and action which nature prescribes for him....
"Fellow citizens, at your request, and in your name, I now deposit this
plate in the spot destined for it; and when the American pilgrim shall,
in after ages, come up to this high and holy place, and lay his hand
upon this sacred column, may he recall the virtues of her who sleeps
beneath, and depart with his affections purified and his piety
strengthened, while he invokes blessings upon the mother of Washington."
John Adams wrote to his wife concerning a certain statesman: "In reading
history, you will generally observe, when you find a great character,
whether a general, a statesman, or a philosopher, some female about him,
either in the character of a mother, wife, or sister, who has knowledge
and ambition above the ordinary level of women; and that much of his
eminence is owing to her precepts, example, or instigation in some shape
or other."
This remark was remarkably illustrated in the career of Washington. He
always acknowledged his indebtedness to maternal influence. He could
say, with John Quincy Adams, "Such as I have been, whatever it was; such
as I am, whatever it is; and such as I hope to be in all futurity, must
be ascribed, under Providence, to the precepts and example of my
mother."
Historians and poets, statesmen and orators, have ever accorded to the
mother of Washington a signal influence to determine his character and
career. And so universal is this sentiment, that the American people
consider that the noblest tribute to her memory is the inscription upon
her monument:
MARY,
THE MOTHER OF
WASHINGTON.
VII.
YOUNG SURVEYOR.
"George can make his home with me, now that his school-days are over,"
said Lawrence to his mother, anxious to keep his young brother in his
own family at Mount Vernon.
"But I need him more than you do," objected Mrs. Washington; "you can
hardly imagine how I miss him."
"So do we miss him when he is not here," responded Lawrence. "George is
good company, as much so as a man of twenty-five years of age. I want
very much that he should make his home with me."
"I thought he might be of service to me in running the farm, and, at the
same time, pursue his studies by himself," continued Mrs. Washington.
"He can study better with me," suggested Lawrence, "because I can assist
him as well as not."
"There is no doubt of that," replied the mother, "and that is the only
reason I can see why he should make his home with you."
"There is one other reason, mother, and a good one, too."
"What is it?"
"He will have a better opportunity to get into business if he lives with
me. I have much company, and just the class of men to introduce a
capable youth like George into some good pursuit."
"There is something in that," responded Mrs. Washington.
"There is much in it every way," added Lawrence. "George is now at an
age when his plans for life should be forming. He is competent to occupy
almost any position that offers, and I can be of real service to him in
directing and advising him."
There is evidence to believe that Lawrence had not wholly abandoned the
idea of introducing George into military life. He himself had become a
man of influence in the State. He was a member of the House of
Burgesses, and adjutant-general of his district; a gentleman of
acknowledged ability and position. He saw in George the foreshadowing of
a distinguished man. He had more exalted ideas than his mother of the
boy's ability and promise. If he could have him in his family, he could
assist him onward and upward, beyond what would be possible if he
remained with his mother.
It was finally settled that George should take up his abode with
Lawrence at Mount Vernon. We need not say that this decision was
congenial to George. He was so strongly attached to Lawrence, and
enjoyed being at Mount Vernon so much, that he found great delight in
removing thither permanently. It proved to be a very important step in
his career, as Lawrence prophesied it would be.
George had not passed his sixteenth birthday. Though still a boy, his
views and aims of life were those of a man. He pursued arithmetic and
surveying under the direction of his brother, with reference to future
manhood. Nor was that all.
One day Lawrence surprised him by the inquiry, "George, how would you
like to take lessons in the manual exercise of Adjutant Muse?"
"I should like it," George replied.
"It may be of service to you at some future day," Lawrence continued.
"It will do you no harm, surely."
"I am ready for the lessons any time," added George. "I have always had
a desire to know something in that line."
Adjutant Muse served with Lawrence in the war against the Spaniards in
the West Indies, and he was a competent teacher of the manual exercise.
It was arranged that he should instruct George in the art.
Subsequently, also, Lawrence made arrangements with Monsieur Van Braam
to instruct George in the _art of fencing_. He had an idea that
dexterity in the use of his limbs, as well as fire-arms, would be of
future use to him. These facts indicate that Lawrence did not expect
that his young brother would become a farmer. There is traditional
evidence that he stated as much to George, whose military aspirations
were nurtured in the Mount Vernon home.
Adjutant Muse encouraged George to read certain treaties upon the art of
war, which he offered to loan him. From these volumes he acquired
considerable knowledge of the theory of tactics, and of the evolution of
troops. No previous branch of study had enlisted his interest more
thoroughly than did these works upon military tactics; and we may easily
discover the design of Providence to prepare him in this way to act a
conspicuous part in the achievement of American independence.
At Mount Vernon George met William Fairfax, whose daughter Lawrence
married. He occupied a valuable estate of his cousin Lord Fairfax, at
Belvoir, seven or eight miles from Mount Vernon. He was an English
gentleman of culture and wealth, very much respected by all who knew
him.
Mr. Fairfax became very much interested in George, regarding him as a
youth of rare, manly virtues.
"He is a man already," he remarked to Lawrence; "very mature for one of
his years."
"I think so," Lawrence answered, "and I hope the way will be opened for
his noblest development."
"He must visit us at Belvoir; I should delight to have him spend much
time in my family," Mr. Fairfax added.
"And I should be pleased to have him," responded Lawrence. "He would
derive great benefit from it."
"My sons and daughters would find him a very genial companion,"
continued Mr. Fairfax. "I think the benefit from the society of each
other would be mutual."
In this way George was introduced to the Fairfax family, with whom he
spent many of his happiest days and weeks. It was one of the most
favorable incidents of his young life when he was welcomed to that
family, for there he enjoyed society of culture, where character, and
neither wealth nor honors, ranked highest. Just at that age he needed
the influence of education and cultivated manners, and here he found
both with the sons and daughters of Mr. Fairfax. Alternately, between
this family at Belvoir and his brother's family at Mount Vernon, he
enjoyed a discipline of social intercourse, better for him, in some
respects, than even Mr. Williams's school.
At Belvoir George met Lord Fairfax, a relative of William Fairfax,
recently from England. "He was the owner of immense domains in
Virginia," says Mr. Everett. "He had inherited through his mother, the
daughter of Lord Culpepper, the original grantee, a vast tract of land,
originally including the entire territory between the Potomac and
Rappahannock Rivers."
Mr. Everett says of him further: "Lord Fairfax was a man of cultivated
mind, educated at Oxford, the associate of the wits of London, the
author of one or two papers in the _Spectator_, and an _habitué_ of the
polite circles of the metropolis. A disappointment in love is said to
have cast a shadow over his after life, and to have led him to pass his
time in voluntary exile on his Virginia estates, watching and promoting
the rapid development of the resources of the country, following the
hounds through the primeval forests, and cheering his solitary hours by
reading and a limited society of chosen friends."
The "love affair" to which Mr. Everett refers is explained by Mr. Irving
as follows:
"In the height of his fashionable career he became strongly attached to
a young lady of rank, paid his addresses, and was accepted. The wedding
day was fixed; the wedding dresses were provided, together with
servants and equipages for the matrimonial establishment. Suddenly the
lady broke her engagement. She had been dazzled by the superior
brilliancy of a ducal coronet.
"It was a cruel blow alike to the affection and pride of Lord Fairfax,
and wrought a change in both character and conduct. From that time he
almost avoided the sex, and became shy and embarrassed in their society,
excepting among those with whom he was connected or particularly
intimate. This may have been among the reasons which ultimately induced
him to abandon the gay world and bury himself in the wilds of America."
Lord Fairfax was charmed by the appearance of George.
"A remarkable lad," he said to his relative, William Fairfax; "so manly,
so intelligent in knowledge beyond his years."
"Yet not a mere book-worm," replied William. "No boy likes games and
hunting better than he."
"A capital horseman, I notice," added the nobleman; "strong and powerful
for one of his years. Yet he likes books. It seems to me that he is
unusually fond of reading."
Lord Fairfax possessed quite a number of valuable books, new and rare to
George, who had pored over them with absorbing interest. The nobleman
inferred that he must possess an unusual taste for reading, and this was
really true.
"Yes, he generally wants to know what the books he meets with contain,"
responded William. "He has made the contents of such books as he could
reach his own."
"I must take him out hunting with me," continued Lord Fairfax. "He will
make a good companion, I imagine."
Lord Fairfax delighted in fox-hunting. In England, before he came to
this country, his best sport was found in the fox-hunt. He kept his
hounds, and all the accoutrements for the chase, so that he was always
prepared for the sport. He found increased pleasure in the pastime after
George became his companion in the chase. The latter enjoyed it, too,
with a keen relish. It was not altogether new to him; he had been
occasionally on such excursions with others. But the English nobleman
understood fox-hunting as no one else in Virginia did. He had learned it
as practised by English lords, who live in baronial style. For this
reason George enjoyed the wild sport as he never did before.
One day George was surprised by a proposition from Lord Fairfax.
"How would you like to survey my lands for me, George? You appear to
understand the business."
"I should like nothing better if I can do it to suit you," George
answered. "I like surveying."
"Well, the only way for me to do is to survey my land, and sell it, if
I would keep 'squatters' off," added Lord Fairfax. "Squatters" were a
class of persons took up their abode upon lands which did not belong to
them, without leave or license.
"You can do it to suit me, I have no doubt," continued the noble lord,
"and I can satisfy you as to pay."
"I will confer with Lawrence about it," said George; "and I shall want
to see my mother, also, I have no doubt but that they will think well of
the plan."
"That is right," answered Lord Fairfax. "Think it over carefully before
you decide. You can undertake the work any time."
George was not long in consulting Lawrence, nor in securing the approval
of his mother. He had frequently been home to see his mother, improving
every favorable opportunity to show his filial devotion thereby. On this
visit, the prospect of an honorable and remunerative pursuit added
interest thereto.
Having obtained the approval of his mother and Lawrence, and formally
accepted the proposition of Lord Fairfax, George set to work in earnest
preparation for the task. He would be under the necessity of plunging
into the wilderness, where savage beasts and savage men might confront
him at almost any time. He must travel on horseback with attendants
carrying his outfit at considerable disadvantage, shooting game and
catching fish for food, and be absent weeks and possibly months at a
time. Camping out at night, or finding a lodge in some poor cabin,
breasting severe storms, encountering Indians, and other new experiences
required preparation.
George William Fairfax, a son of William, accompanied him, together with
two or three attendants. A writer describes the heroic boy, then sixteen
years of age, as follows:
"There he is, a tall, handsome youth, with his right arm thrown across
the horse's neck, and his left hand grasping his compass-staff. He is
clad in a buck-skin hunting-shirt, with leggings and moccasins of the
same material, the simple garb of a backwoods man, and one that well
becomes him now, as in perfect keeping with the wildness of the
surrounding scenery; while in his broad leathern belt are stuck the long
hunting-knife and Indian tomahawk. In stature he is much above most
youths of the same age. He is of a noble, robust form, with high and
strong but smooth features, light brown hair, large blue eyes, not
brilliant, but beaming with a clear and steady light, as if a soul
looked through them that knew no taint of vice or meanness, and a
countenance aglow with truth and courage, modest gentleness, and manly
self-reliance."
"You must continue to keep your journal," said Lawrence; "it will be
more valuable than ever to you."
George had kept a journal of events and experiences for two or three
years, and his brother encouraged him in doing it as valuable
discipline.
"I intend to do it," answered George, "and I shall take more interest in
it because I shall have something worth recording."
"Twenty or thirty years from now you will put a higher value upon your
journal than you do now," added Lawrence. "I should recommend every
youth to keep a journal."
"Especially in the woods," responded George, facetiously.
"Yes, in the woods or out; no boy can afford to lose the discipline of
it," rejoined Lawrence. "For so simple and easy practice it pays a large
interest."
"Small investments and large income! That is what you mean," remarked
George.
"Exactly; my word for it, you will find it so," added Lawrence.
That journal has proved of far more value than Lawrence predicted. After
the lapse of over one hundred and thirty years, we are able to learn
from it about the hardships, dangers, and severe labors of his surveying
expeditions. A few extracts from letters and journal will afford an
insight into that important period of his life.
He wrote to one of his friends, after an experience of several months,
thus:
"Your letter gave me the more pleasure, as I received it among
barbarians, and an uncouth set of people. Since you received my last
letter I have not slept above three or four nights in a bed; but after
walking a good deal all the day, I have lain down before the fire upon a
little hay, straw, fodder, or a bear-skin--whichsoever was to be
had--with man, wife, and children, like dogs and cats; and happy is he
who gets the berth nearest the fire. Nothing would make it pass off
tolerably but a good reward. A doubloon[A] is my constant gain every
day that the weather will permit my going out, and sometimes six
pistoles[B]. The coldness of the weather will not allow of my making a
long stay, as the lodging is rather too cold for the time of year. I
have never had my clothes off, but have lain and slept in them, except
the few nights I have been in Fredericksburg."
[A] $7 50.
[B] A pistole was $3.50
The entry in his journal for the third day after he started, in March,
1748, was as follows:
"Worked hard till night, and then returned. After supper we were lighted
into a room; and I, not being so good a woodsman as the rest, stripped
myself very orderly, and went into the bed, as they called it, when, to
my surprise, I found it to be nothing but a little straw matted
together, without sheet or anything else, but only one threadbare
blanket, with double its weight of vermin. I was glad to get up and put
on my clothes, and lie as my companions did. Had we not been very tired,
I am sure that we should not have slept much that night. I made a
promise to sleep so no more, choosing rather to sleep in the open air
before a fire."
George commenced operations for Lord Fairfax early in March, when the
mountains were still white with snow, and wintry blasts swept over the
plains. The heavy rains of spring had swollen the streams into torrents,
so that it was perilous to ford them. Of course the hardships of such an
expedition were largely increased by the rough, cold weather of the
season.
Abbot says: "The enterprise upon which Washington had entered was one
full of romance, toil, and peril. It required the exercise of constant
vigilance and sagacity. Though these wilds may be called pathless still
there were here and there narrow trails, which the moccasined foot of
the savage had trodden for centuries. They led in a narrow track,
scarcely two feet in breadth, through dense thickets, over craggy hills,
and along the banks of placid streams or foaming torrents."
Everett says: "The hardships of this occupation will not be fully
comprehended by those who are acquainted with the surveyor's duties only
as they are practised in old and thickly settled countries. In addition
to the want of accommodation, the service was attended by serious
perils. In new countries, of which 'squatters' have begun to take
possession, the surveyor is at all times a highly unwelcome visitor, and
sometimes goes about his duties at the risk of his life. Besides this, a
portion of the land traversed by Washington formed a part of that
debatable land, the disputed right to which was the original moving
cause of the 'Seven Years' War.' The French were already in motion, both
from Canada and Louisiana, to preoccupy the banks of the Ohio, and
the savages in their interest roamed the intervening country up to
the settlements of Virginia."
Another entry in his journal is the following:
"Rained till about two o'clock, and then cleared up, when we were
agreeably surprised at the sight of more than thirty Indians, coming
from war with only one scalp. We had some liquor with us, of which we
gave them a part. This, elevating their spirits, put them in the humor
of dancing. We then had a war dance. After clearing a large space, and
making a great fire in the middle, the men seated themselves around it,
and the speaker made a grand speech, telling them in what manner they
were to dance. After he had finished, the best dancer jumped up, as one
awakened from sleep, and ran and jumped about the ring in the most
comical manner. He was followed by the rest. Then began their music,
which was performed with a pot half full of water, and a deer skin
stretched tight over it, and a gourd with some shot in it to rattle, and
a piece of horse's tail tied to it to make it look fine. One person kept
rattling and another drumming all the while they were dancing."
George had never seen Indians in their wigwams until his surveying
expedition. He had never witnessed a war dance nor been brought face to
face with these red men until he engaged in this pursuit for Lord
Fairfax. The Indians were friendly, though it was known that they looked
upon the encroachments of the English colonists with suspicion, if not
with some bitterness. Occasionally a wandering band plundered defenceless
families and spread consternation abroad. But such hostile demonstrations
were exceptional.
"Strange must have been the
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