ParkeGeorge Washington Parke Custis.
George Washington Parke Custis.
George Washington Parke Custis.
Old Fredericksburg threw its hat in the air and declared that the "Indian Oueen" should be swept and garnished, and the Fredericksburg beauties tread a measure with those gay foreigners. This thing of "belonging to the country" was all very well, but George Washington was a Virginian—what was more, he was master-mason in the Fredericksburg Lodge No. 4, and a Fredericksburg boy out and out. "But would Madam Washington come to a ball?" Ay, she would. Her "dancing days were pretty well over," but she would "be glad to contribute to the general happiness."
chairThe Chair used by George Washington when Master of Fredericksburg Lodge.
The Chair used by George Washington when Master of Fredericksburg Lodge.
The Chair used by George Washington when Master of Fredericksburg Lodge.
But here we give place again to Mr. Custis, for he had his story at first hands.
"Meantime, in the village of Fredericksburg, all was joy and revelry; the town was crowded with the officers of the French and American armies, and with gentlemen from all the country around, who hastened to welcome the conquerors of Cornwallis. The citizens made arrangements for a splendid ball, to which the mother of Washington was specially invited. She observed that, although her dancing days were pretty well over, she should feel happy incontributing to the general festivity, and consented to attend.
"The foreign officers were anxious to see the mother of their chief. They had heard indistinct rumors respecting her remarkable life and character; but, forming their judgments from European examples, they were prepared to expect in the mother that glare and show which would have been attached to the parents of the great in the old world. How they were surprised when the matron, leaning on the arm of her son, entered the room! She was arrayed in the very plain, yet becoming, garb worn by the Virginian lady of the olden time. Her address, always dignified and imposing, was courteous, though reserved. She received the complimentary attentions, which were profusely paid her, without evincing the slightest elevation; and, at an early hour, wishing the company much enjoyment of their pleasures, observing that it was time for old people to be at home, retired.
"The foreign officers were amazed to behold one so many causes contributed to elevate, preserving the even tenor of her life, while such a blaze of glory shone upon her name and offspring. The European world furnished no examples of such magnanimity. Names of ancient lore were heard to escape from their lips; and they observed that, 'if such were the matrons of America, it was not wonderful the sons were illustrious.'
"It was on this festive occasion that General Washingtondanced a minuet with Mrs. Willis" (one of the Gregory girls). "It closed his dancing days. The minuet was much in vogue at that period, and was peculiarly calculated for the display of the splendid figure of the chief and his natural grace and elegance of air and manner. The gallant Frenchmen who were present—of which fine people it may be said that dancing forms one of the elements of their existence—so much admired the American performance as to admit that a Parisian education could not have improved it. As the evening advanced, the commander-in-chief, yielding to the gayety of the scene, went down some dozen couples in the contra-dance, with great spirit and satisfaction."
But General Washington's dancing days did not close with the Fredericksburg ball. Mr. Custis did not know. Two years later Lieutenant McAllister wrote from Baltimore: "A ball was given to his most excellent Excellency by the ladies of this town. A brilliant collection assembled to entertain him, and the illustrious Chief led and mingled in the joyous dance."
The commanding general had perceived the wisdom of introducing into the camp life some relaxation and amusement, as the Arctic explorer arranged a series of theatricals when starvation threatened his ice-locked crew. In the year and month in which Washington wrote his most despairing letter toGeorge Mason, there were frequent balls in the camp at Middlebrook. "We had a little dance at my quarters," wrote General Greene to Colonel Wadsworth in March, 1779 (the dark hour), "His Excellency and Mrs. Greene danced upwards of three hours without once sitting down."
Bishop Meade, in his intense admiration of Washington and his not less intense abhorrence of dancing, reasons that these reports of the great chiefcouldnot be true. They were undoubtedly true. Washington, although habitually grave and thoughtful, was of a social disposition, and loved cheerful society. He was fond of the dance, and it was the boast of many Revolutionary dames that he had been their partner in contra-dances, and had led them through the stately figures of the minuet.
Little Maria Mortimer, aged sixteen, was at the Fredericksburg ball. Betty Lewis followed the party later to Mount Vernon. For Maria a great dignity was in store. Her father, Dr. Charles Mortimer, issued invitations at the ball for a great dinner to the distinguished strangers the next day but one, and his wife (Sarah Griffin Fauntleroy), being too ill to preside, that honor fell to the daughter of the house.[27]
The house, an immense pile of English brick, still stands on the lower edge of the town, facing Main Street, with a garden sloping to the river,where Dr. Mortimer's own tobacco ships used to run up to discharge their return English cargoes by a channel long since disused and filled up.
The mansion was hastily puten fête—which meant swept walks, polished floors, and abundant decoration of flowers and evergreens. The running cedar of Virginia, with its plumy tufts of green, lent itself gracefully to outline doors and windows, encircle family portraits, and hang in festoons from the antlers of the deer in the hall.
The table, as little Maria described it in after years, groaned with every delicacy of land and water, served in massive pewter dishes polished until they shone again.
The chief sat beside the master of the house at the long table, although at his own house his place was always at the side of the table among his guests. Little Maria "with her hair craped high" was taken in by the Marquis Lafayette, or Count d'Estaing, or Count Rochambeau,—they were all present,—and the little lady's heart was in her mouth, she said, although she danced with every one of them at the ball—nay, with Betty Lewis's Uncle George himself!
To this dinner the doctor, of course, invited Mrs. Washington, but equally, of course, she did not come, her appearance at the ball having been an extraordinary effort intended to mark her sense of the importance of the occasion which was intoxicating the whole country with joy.
In 1784 the Marquis de Lafayette returned to Virginia "crowned everywhere," wrote Washington to the Marchioness de Lafayette, "with wreaths of love and respect." He made a visit to Mount Vernon, and thence, before he sailed for France, he went to Fredericksburg to pay his homage to the mother of Washington. A great crowd of citizens and old soldiers thronged the town to do him honor. One of the old soldiers from the country had heard much of a new character who had followed the armies, and had lately appeared in Virginia—active, prevalent, and most successful! This rustic determined to see Lafayette, "pick-pocket" or no "pick-pocket." Had he not two hands! One should never let go a firm grasp on the watch in his own pocket. Finally he succeeded, after pressing through the throng, in reaching the general. In his enthusiasm at being greeted so warmly by the great marquis, he seized with both hands Lafayette's friendly grasp, and as he turned away clapped his hand upon his watch-pocket. It was empty!There is no doubt—not the least—that the honest man never thought his honors too dearly bought.
LafayetteGENERAL LAFAYETTE.
GENERAL LAFAYETTE.
GENERAL LAFAYETTE.
Escaping from all these good people so keenly and cordially enjoyed by the warm-hearted marquis, he found Betty Washington's son to act as sponsor and guide—lest he should have been forgotten!—to visit the mother of his friend. He wished to pay his parting respects and to ask her blessing.
"Accompanied by her grandson," says Mr. Custis, "he approached the house; when the young gentleman observed, 'There, sir, is my grandmother.' Lafayette beheld, working in the garden, clad in domestic-made clothes, and her gray head covered in a plain straw hat, the mother of his hero! The lady saluted him kindly, observing, '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.'
"The Marquis spoke of the happy effects of the Revolution, and the goodly prospect which opened upon independent America; stated his speedy departure for his native land; paid the tribute of his heart, his love and admiration of her illustrious son. To the encomiums which he had lavished upon his hero and paternal chief, the matron replied in her accustomed words, 'I am not surprised at what George has done, for he was always a very good boy.'
"In her latter days, the mother often spoke of 'her own good boy,' of the merits of his early life,of his love and dutifulness to herself; but of the deliverer of his country, the chief magistrate of the great republic, she never spoke. Call you this insensibility? or want of ambition? Oh, no! her ambition had been gratified to overflowing. She had taught him to be good; that he became great when the opportunity presented, was a consequence, not a cause."
Would that we could record naught but reward—long life, honor, and happiness—to every one of our brave allies who came to us in our extremity. But, alas! Fortune held in her closed hand these gifts for some—for others disgrace, the dungeon, the guillotine!
Louis XVI was overjoyed at theéclatwon by the French arms in America. When Rochambeau presented himself at court the young king received him graciously, and said to him, "I have read in the Commentaries of Cæsar that a small army, commanded by a great general, can achieve wonders, and you are a proof of it."
Lafayette threw himself with ardor into the stirring military life of his own country, and came back to us in 1824 to find his path strewn with flowers by Daughters of the American Revolution; and Daughters of the American Revolution but a few months ago crowned his statue with the same laurels with which they crowned the adored Washington!
Great riches and honor were heaped upon the Comte de Vergennes. He was given a position which brought him an income of 60,000 francs. Afterwards the Empress of Russia—as reward—made him Knight of the Order of the Holy Ghost, with 100,000 francs! A serene, very honorable and comfortable old age was Fortune's gift to our friend Vergennes.
And Beaumarchais, who poured money into our empty treasury from his own full horn-of-plenty,—Beaumarchais, the artist, dramatist, politician, merchant, who set all Paris wild with his "Mariage de Figaro," of whose wit and satire and mischievous subtlety our translations give us no idea,—Beaumarchais must needs ruin himself by spending 1,000,000 livres on a gorgeousédition de luxeof Voltaire, and yet more than that on French muskets. He died of "no particular disease," say his biographers, "at sixty-nine years." So Fortune for him had a long life and a merry one, and riches of which he made a noble use.
We all know the fate of the pleasure-loving young king,—the husband of the beautiful and accomplished Marie Antoinette! America, perhaps, owes little to him,—but she remembers that little, and can mourn for the bitter hour that ended his misguided life.
But ungrateful, indeed, would she be did she cease to remember Marie Antoinette! Well may we callour beautiful buildings and graceful fashions after her name. Many years after she had bent her lovely head with such courage to the guillotine, Paine wrote, "It is both justice and gratitude to say that it was the queen of France who gave the cause of America a fashion at the French Court." "Dites-moi," she had said in parting from Lafayette, "dites-moi de bonnes nouvelles de nos bons Americans, de nos cher Republicans," little dreaming, poor lady, that "she was giving the last great impulse to that revolutionary spirit which was so soon to lead her to misery and death."
For one more of the Frenchmen who served us—one who was a loyal friend in the field and a traitor at the fireside—the stern Nemesis holds a strange immortality. The secret manuscript which for one hundred and twenty-five years has passed from hand to hand among Virginia women; which was known to and partially quoted by Bishop Meade; which is known to-day by many who gave, like him, a promise never to print the whole of it, contains the story of a young nobleman's infamy—told that he may be execrated by women, the names implicated kept from publication that the innocent descendants may not suffer. "Sed quid ego hæc nequicquam ingrata revolvo?It is vain to lament that corruption which no human power can prevent or repair."
Peace was not declared until March 3, 1783. In the meanwhile the armies must be kept in camp, regularly drilled, and ready at a moment's notice for action. The American army was encamped at Verplanck's Point; that of Count de Rochambeau—alas, for the honor and peace of one household!—at Williamsburg. The brilliant campaign in Virginia attracted immense interest abroad. Every ship brought strangers to visit the camp,—artists, writers, military men. Washington begins to be sensitive about our meagre facilities for entertaining these visitors. "We have nothing to offer," he deplores, "except whisky hot from the still,—and not always that,—and meat with no vegetables," etc. There was always plenty of Virginia hickory nuts! They appeared at every meal. They saved many a day and redeemed many a slender breakfast, dinner, and supper. The commander-in-chief seems to have striven to make them fashionable by devoting himself to their consumption.
M. de Broglie came to Virginia in 1782, bearing letters of introduction to General Washington fromBenjamin Franklin,—letters "rendered doubly agreeable," said the general, "by the pleasure I had in receiving them from the hands of such an amiable and accomplished young gentleman." M. de Broglie kept a journal which found its way to the columns of theCourier des États Unis, and was translated by a Boston literary journal. The impression made upon this "amiable and accomplished young gentleman" presents an interesting portrait of Washington in the year succeeding the surrender, and also permits our curtain to fall upon a charming picture of the ancestors of the sons and daughters of the American Revolution.
M. de Broglie says: "I found the American Army encamped in a place called Verplanck's Point. There were six thousand men who, for the first time during the war, were well armed, well drilled, well kept, and camped under tents of a regular form. I passed along its front with pleasure, astonishment and admiration. All the soldiers appeared to me fine, robust and well chosen. The sentinels well kept, extremely attentive, and sufficiently well placed under arms, contrasted so completely with the crude idea I had formed of these troops, that I was obliged to repeat to myself several times that I was indeed seeing this army that formerly had no other uniform than a cap upon which was written 'Liberty.'
"I pressed M. de Rochambeau, who received mewith kindness, to add that of making me acquainted with Washington. He assented; and the day after my arrival, he went with me to dine with this famous man. I gave him a letter from my father; and, after a slight 'shake hand,' he was kind enough to say a thousand flatteries and polite things to me. Here is his portrait, which I have formed from what I have been able to see of him for myself, and from what the conversations which I have had with regard to him, have taught me:—
"The General is about forty-nine years of age; he is large, finely made, very well proportioned. His figure is much more pleasing than the picture represents it. He was fine looking until within about three years; and, although those who have been constantly with him since that time say that he seems to them to have grown old fast, it is undeniable that the General is still fresh, and active as a young man.
"His physiognomy is pleasant and open; his address is cold, though polite; his pensive eye is more attentive than sparkling; but his countenance is kind, noble and composed. He maintains, in his private deportment, that polite and attentive manner which does not offend. He is the enemy of ostentation and vain-glory. His manners are always equable; he has never shown the least temper. Modest even to humility, he seems not to estimate himself duly; he receives with good gracethe deference paid to him, but rather shuns than courts it. His society is agreeable and pleasing. Always serious, never constrained; always simple, always free and affable, without being familiar, the respect which he inspires never becomes painful. He talks little in general, and in a very low tone of voice; but he is so attentive to what is said to him, that you are satisfied that he understands you, and are almost willing to dispense with a reply. This conduct has often been of advantage to him in various circumstances; no one has more occasion than he to use circumspection, and to weigh well his words. He unites to an unalterable tranquillity of soul, a fine power of judgment; and one can seldom reproach him for a little slowness in determination, or even in acting, when he has formed his decision. His courage is calm and brilliant. An excellent patriot, a wise, virtuous man—one is tempted to grant him all qualities, even those which circumstances have not permitted him to develop. Never was there a man more fitted to lead the Americans nor one who has evinced in his conduct more consistency, wisdom, constancy and reason.
"Mr. Washington has never received any compensation as General; he has refused such, as not needing it. The expenses of his table are alone made at the expense of the State. He has every day as many as thirty people at dinner, gives goodmilitary receptions, and is very attentive to all the officers whom he admits to his table. It is, in general, the moment of the day when he is most gay.
"At dessert, he makes an enormous consumption of nuts, and, when the conversation amuses him, he eats them for two hours, 'drinking healths,' according to the English and American custom, several times. This is calledtoasting. They begin always by drinking to the United States of America; afterwards to the King of France, to the Queen, and success to the arms of the combined army. Then is given, sometimes, what is called a sentiment; for example, 'To our success with our enemies and the ladies!' 'Success in war and love!'
"I havetoastedseveral times with General Washington. On one occasion I proposed to him to drink to the Marquis de Lafayette, whom he looked upon as a son. He accepted with a smile of benevolence, and had the politeness to propose to me in return that of my father and wife.
"Mr. Washington appears to me to keep up a perfect bearing towards the officers of his army; he treats them very politely, but they are far from growing familiar with him; they all wear, on the contrary, in presence of this General, an air of respect, confidence and admiration."
For two years after the surrender, General Washington was confined to the routine of camp life.We read of no visits to Fredericksburg or to Mount Vernon. If he made them, they were brief and uneventful.
His mother lived quietly in her new home, never fulfilling her intention of returning to "Pine Grove" across the river. She was now seventy-eight years old, but remembered by the children of her old neighbors as bright, active, and alert—keenly interested in everything around her. Charming granddaughters were growing up in Betty Lewis's "Kenmore" home. One of these—doubtless our "little Betty,"—accompanied General and Mrs. Washington on their joyful return home to Mount Vernon from Annapolis, whither the general had gone to resign his commission. Mr. Lossing has preserved a letter from little Miss Lewis:—
"I must tell you what a charming day I spent at Mt. Vernon with Mama and Sally. The General and Madame came home at Christmas Eve, and such a racket the servants made! They were glad of their coming. Three handsome young officers came with them. All Christmas afternoon people came to pay their respects and duty. Among these were stately dames and gay young women. The General seemed very happy and Mrs. Washington was up before daybreak making everything as agreeable as possible for everybody. Among the most notable callers was Mr. George Mason of Gunston Hall, who brought a charming granddaughter withhim about fourteen years old. He is said to be one of the greatest statesmen and wisest men in Virginia. We had heard much of him, and were delighted to look in his face, hear him speak, and take his hand which he offered in a courtly manner. He has a grand head and clear gray eyes—is straight, but not tall, and has few white hairs, though they say he is about sixty years old."
The little hero-worshipper! And so reverent to her illustrious uncle and his wife, with no underbred, familiar claiming of kinship with "the General and Madame."
Even before peace was declared, our French allies circulated large sums of gold and silver coin, which put to flight the wretched paper currency of our country, and in an incredibly short time quantities of French and English goods were imported. "Our people," laments an old writer, "suddenly laid aside their plain, home-manufactured clothing. Fine ruffles, powdered heads, silks and scarlets decorated the men, while the most costly silks, satins, chintzes, calicoes and muslins decorated our females. Superb plate, foreign spirits, and wines, sparkled on the sideboards, and as a necessary consequence the people ran in debt, and money was hard to raise."
General Washington's family resumed their old-time habits of living. They rose early, breakfasted at half-past seven, dined frugally at two, retired early. "Those who come to see me," said thegeneral, "will always find a bit of mutton and a glass of wine. If they expect anything more, they will be disappointed." Mary Washington and the mistress of Mount Vernon never laid aside their simple customs, dress, and occupations. They seemed to have formed, said Washington Irving, "an inveterate habit of knitting" in and out of the drawing-room. Walking about her garden, Mary Washington's fingers held the flying needles. The results were sent to somebody less fortunate than herself. Martha Washington kept up her "inveterate habit" long after she became the first lady in the land, presenting unfinished gloves of her own knitting to her friends to "finish and wear for my sake," thus delicately suggesting a plan by which the gift could be rendered more valuable, and at the same time inspiring her gay young visitors with something of her own spirit of industry.
Inestimable to women is the value of such occupation! For them the curse has been transmuted into a golden blessing. There could have been no necessity for Mary and Martha Washington to employ themselves so diligently in sewing and knitting. The hands were numerous enough around them among the negroes and humbler classes for all such work. But they held an old-fashioned creed: that the human hand—that wonderful mechanism—was created for some useful purpose! In their day the hand had not claimed for its beauty the cunningskill of the "artist manicure." The instructed hand made laces, and manipulated the spinet and harp, but it made garments as well. Let none call the love of needlework useless—its results not worth the while! Knitting may not be the highest use for one's beautiful hands, but it surely ranks with the highest when it ministers to those who suffer! And even as an innocent occupation it is not to be despised. All such work is better than dull vacuity or lack of interest in domestic life. A passion for such things is not the worst passion that can possess a woman's soul. Besides, needlework is an admirable sedative to the nerves. Mary Washington's knitting helped to relieve her mind of its tension when circumstances seemed so unfortunate and discouraging. Perhaps the Queen of Scots sometimes forgot the uncertain tenure by which she held her beautiful head because she had a passion for embroidery and was, every day, expecting new flosses and filoselles from France to finish something very lovely which she had commenced.
But knitting was not with Mary Washington and her daughters a matter of sentiment or resorted to as a nerve cure. It was simply the natural expression of pure benevolence. There was no money to buy—nothing imported to be bought. The destitution of the soldiers pressed heavily upon the hearts of these good women. Constantly employed every moment of their waking hours, they mighthope to achieve something to add to that "cap upon which was written 'Liberty.'" The Phrygian cap might indeed protect the fervid brain of the patriot, but could in no wise comfort his weary feet!
American women have never failed in time of war to give the work of their own hands. With the wife of another Virginia commander, Mary Custis Lee, knitting was as inveterate a habit in the time of America's Civil War as it was with her great-grandmother, Martha Washington, in the war of the American Revolution.
Many were the soldiers who were comforted in body and heartened in spirit by the gifts of these noble women—all the more because they were wrought by their own gentle hands.
Mary Washington lived long enough to witness the crowning triumph of the colonies, when the proud country that had sought their subjugation was compelled to receive at its Court their accredited Minister. In 1785 John Adams of Massachusetts was chosen for this delicate position. He had nominated Washington for Commander-in-chief of the Colonial troops, he had belonged to the committee which reported the immortal Declaration of Independence, he had been sent in 1777 as commissioner to the Court of Versailles. Moreover, he was the husband of the accomplished, patriotic Abigail Adams,—"a woman of fine personal appearance, good education and noble powers of mind." A fitting pair this to represent the new land that had just won a place among the nations!
In the drawing-rooms of the late queen—the arbiter of social usage for nearly a century—Majesty stood upon a raised platform surrounded by the lights, larger or lesser, of her court. A few ladies only were admitted at a time. These mightnot clasp the outstretched hand of Majesty. On thebackof their hands her own was laid for an instant, and something like a butterfly touch of the lips was permitted. Then to the long line of lesser stars were courtesies rendered, and the "presented" lady passed on and out.
AdamsJohn Adams.
John Adams.
John Adams.
Not so did George the Third and his queen receive. Their guests were assembled in the drawing-room, and the king, accompanied by Lord Onslow, passed around first; the queen, as much as two hours later, made her rounds in a similar fashion.
Mrs. Adams wrote to her sister a description of the first drawing-room attended by the first American Minister to the Court of St. James. The company assembled in silence. The kingwent around to every person—finding small talk enough to speak to them all—"prudently speaking in a whisper so that only the person next you can hear what is said." King George, Mrs. Adams thought, was "a personable man," but she did not admire his red face and white eyebrows. When he came to her, and Lord Onslow said, "Mrs. Adams," she hastily drew off her right-hand glove; but to her amazement the king stooped and kissed her on her left cheek! There was an embarrassed moment—for Royalty must always begin and end a conversation. George the Third found only this to say:—
"Madam, have you taken a walk to-day?"
"No, Sire."
"Why? Don't you love walking?"
Her impulse was to tell him frankly that all the morning had been given to attiring herself to wait upon him, but she informed him only that she was "rather indolent in that respect," upon which he allowed her the last word, bowed, and passed on. In about two hours it was Mrs. Adams's turn to be presented to the queen. "The queen," she writes, "was evidently embarrassed. I had disagreeable feelings, too. She, however, said: 'Mrs. Adams, have you got into your house? Pray, how do you like the situation of it?'" She, too, yielded the last word, passing on after an earnest assurance that the American lady had nothing to complain of."She was in purple and silver," said Mrs. Adams in her letter to her sister. "She is not well-shaped nor handsome. As to the ladies of the Court, rank and title may compensate for want of personal charm, but they are in general very plain, ill-shaped and ugly—but don't you tell anybody that I said so!"
From the letter of our Minister's wife, we perceive that fashions in dress had not changed materially since the days when Jenny Washington, Betsy Lee, and Aphia Fauntleroy danced in Westmoreland. The classic David had not yet laid down his stern laws. The train was still looped over an ornate petticoat, and all supported by an enormous hoop; the hair still "craped high," surmounted with feathers, flowers, lace, and gauze. Mrs. Adams, when all ready to set forth to the drawing-room, found time while waiting for her daughter to describe the presentation gowns to her sister in Massachusetts:—
"My head is dressed for St. James, and in my opinion looks very tasty. Whilst my daughter is undergoing the same operation I set myself down composedly to write you a few lines. I directed my manteau-maker to let my dress be elegant, but plain as I could possibly appear with decency. Accordingly it is white lutestring covered and full-trimmed with white crape festooned with lilac ribbon and mock point lace, over a hoop of enormous extent. There is only a narrow train of about three yards inlength to the gown waist, which is put into a ribbon upon the left side, the Queen only having her train borne. Ruffle cuffs for married ladies, a very dress cap with long lace lappets, two white plumes and a blond-lace handkerchief. This is my rigging. I should have mentioned two pearl pins in my hair, earrings and necklace of the same kind.
"Well, methinks I hear Betsy and Lucy say, 'What is cousin's dress?' White, my dear girls, like your aunt's, only differently trimmed and ornamented, her train being wholly of white crape and trimmed with white ribbon; the petticoat, which is the most showy part of the dress, covered and drawn up in what are called festoons, with light wreaths of beautiful flowers; the sleeves white crape, drawn over the silk with a row of lace around the sleeve near the shoulder, another half-way down the arm, and a third upon the top of the ruffle, a little flower stuck between; a kind of hat cap with three large feathers and a bunch of flowers; a wreath of flowers upon the hair. Thus equipped we go in our own carriage, and Mr. Adams and Colonel Smith in his. But I must quit the pen in order for the ceremony which begins at 2 o'clock."
Mrs. Adams was not one whit "flustered" or nervous on this occasion—unique from the circumstances attending it. The embarrassment was all on the part of Royalty. Very sustaining must be the consciousness of belonging to the victorious party!
Washington Irving speaks of the first winter at Mount Vernon as being of such intense cold that "General Washington could not travel through the snows even as far as Fredericksburg to visit his aged mother." General Dabney H. Maury, in his "Recollections of a Virginian," says: "After Washington's military career ended he used to go frequently to Fredericksburg to visit his venerable mother, and his arrival was the occasion of great conviviality and rejoicing. Dinner parties and card parties were then in order, and we find in that wonderful record of his daily receipts and expenditures that on one of these occasions he won thirty guineas at Lop-loo! Probably it was after this night that he threw the historic dollar across the river, the only instance of extravagance ever charged against him." A dinner-party was usually given to him on his arrival at the old "Indian Queen" tavern. On these visits Washington laid aside his state, and—near his boyhood's home—was a boy again.
Judge Brooke, for many years chief justice ofVirginia, who had served as an officer in the legion of "Light-horse Harry," used to tell of having frequently met Washington on his visits to Fredericksburg after the Revolutionary War, and how "hilarious" the general was on those occasions with "Jack Willis and other friends of his young days." Judge Brooke remembered one dinner given to Washington at the "Indian Queen" tavern at which he was present. "A British officer sang a comic song. Washington laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks, and called upon the singer to repeat it."
"Light-horse Harry" Lee was always a great favorite in the Washington family. He was, perhaps, the only person outside of it "never under the influence"—according to Irving—"of that reverential awe" which Washington is said to have inspired. His summer home "Chatham" adjoined Mary Washington's Stafford farm; he was often in Fredericksburg at the "Indian Queen" banquets. Nobody could take such liberties with the great man. The son of his "Lowland Beauty" stepped right into the place she had left vacant.
The general one day asked "Light-horse Harry" if he knew where he could get a good pair of carriage horses.
"I have a fine pair, general—butyoucan't get them."
"Why not?"
"Because," said the saucy young soldier, "you will never pay more than half price for anything, and I must have full price for my horses."
Silence—broken at last by the bantering laugh of a pet parrot caged near them. The general took the assault upon his dignity in great good part. "Ah, Lee, you are a funny fellow!" said he; "even the birds laugh at you!"
"But," adds Irving, "hearty laughter was rare with Washington. The sudden explosions we read of were the result of some ludicrous surprise."
Still we do read of this rare laughter—this willing yielding to merriment—on the occasions of his visits to his mother.
All of which goes to prove, first, that Washington did not, as has been charged, neglect to visit her during the four intervening years between the declaration of peace and his own appointment to the Presidency, and, secondly, that these were happy visits, notwithstanding his mother's age and infirmities—happy for her, otherwise, they could not have been happy for him.
It is not the purpose of the compiler of this story of Mary Washington and her times to answer all of the witless charges that thoughtless—we will not say malignant—persons have made regarding Washington's relations with his mother; but one of these stories found its way to the columns of a newspaper, and perhaps we may check its echo, now going onfrom lip to lip, to the effect that after he became President, Washingtondeniedto his mother a home in his temporary residence. He entered that residence late in the spring of 1789. His mother died in August of that year. She was ill when he parted from her, and he was prostrated for many weeks with a malignant carbuncle. He was not recovered when she died; he could not go to her. It is not possible that she wished to exchange the repose of her own home and the ministrations of her loved physician and only daughter for the stirring life of a noisy metropolis.
And as for her noble son—if the splendor of his record be more than the eyes of his critics can bear, they are at liberty to veil it for their own comfort by the mists of their own imaginings. They will never persuade the world that the purest and best man this country ever saw could be capable of neglecting an aged and infirm woman—and that woman the mother who bore him, and to whom he owed all that made him greater than his fellows.
I should doubt the authenticity of any letter, tending to lower our estimation of Washington's character. William Smyth of Cambridge University, England, in his "Lectures on History" (Lecture 34, p. 436), warns us thatonevolume of "Washington's Letters" is spurious and not to be respected. I have not seen this assertion ofSmyth's repeated, but he could not have made it without authority.
As to the neglect of his mother during the last five years of his life—a charge that has been made more than once—there can be no foundation whatever. He never realized his dream of rest and leisure. The one ice-bound winter succeeding the declaration of peace was his only moment of repose. He found his own affairs much involved—so much so that Congress wished to aid him in restoring them. But he refused to accept any gift or any compensation for his eight years of service. He complained of the enormous burden of the letters he must answer. He found small time for the arboricultural pursuits in which he was so much interested. Hardly had he planted his balsams, ivies, and ornamental trees of various kinds, when trouble in the country claimed his attention. He writes of his longing for privacy and leisure, and remembers that his time to enjoy them must be short. Still he plants "elms, ash, white-thorn, maples, mulberries, horse-chestnuts, willows and lilacs," and writes that his trees grow fast, as if they knew him to be getting old and must make haste if they wish ever to shelter him!
All this was brought to an end by the very serious discords in the country as to the Constitution adopted by the Confederation of States. The story of these discords is a long one, and has been ablytold elsewhere. Washington's feelings were intensely excited by the news that the insurgents of Massachusetts had exhibited such violence that the chief magistrate had called out the militia of the state to support the Constitution. "Good God!" he exclaims, "who besides a Tory or a Briton could have predicted this? It was but the other day we were shedding our blood to obtain the constitutions under which we now live,—constitutions of our own choice and making,—and now we are unsheathing the sword to overturn them. If any man had told me this three years since, I should have thought him a bedlamite, a fit subject for a mad house!"
The troubles ended in a call for another convention of which he was, reluctantly, compelled to accept the place of delegate. To serve intelligently he went into a course of study of the history of ancient and modern confederacies, and has left among his papers an abstract of their merits and defects. He must now learn a new trade! He must become a wise and learned statesman.
One can easily see the impossibility of long and frequent visits to his mother at Fredericksburg. The man was bound, hand and foot. He longed for repose, and at first rebelled against further public duty. "Having had some part in bringing the ship into port," he said, "and having been fairly discharged, it is not my business to embark again upon a sea of troubles."
The country ordered otherwise. There was a quarrel in the family, and a serious one, and the "Father of his Country" must help to settle it.
Virginia had done what she could. She was rich and powerful, and the weaker states reckoned themselves at a disadvantage beside her. Virginia was the foremost advocate for equality and union, and was willing to make sacrifices to secure it.
She nobly surrendered to the Federal government a great principality. All the country beyond the Ohio, now forming the states of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, belonged to Virginia. Says Esten Cooke: "Her right to it rested upon as firm a basis as the right of any other Commonwealth to its own domain, and if there was any question of the Virginia title by charter, she could assert her right by conquest. The region had been wrested from the British by a Virginian commanding Virginia troops; the people had taken 'The oath of allegiance to the Commonwealth of Virginia,' and her title to the entire territory was indisputable.
"These rights she now relinquished, and her action was the result of an enlarged patriotism and devotion to the cause of Union."
Thus she aided in the settlement of the questions before the great Convention of 1788, of which Washington was made President. All the great men of the country were present at this convention, and the result was that the Constitution of theUnited States went into operation, and Washington was elected President by a unanimous vote.
In the face of these vital mattersnoone—certainly not his brave, good, reasonable mother—could blame him that the hours of the days were all too short for the great work he had to do.
Once more, and once only, do we hear of Mary Washington in connection with her son. We read that her home filled her time and heart; that she, like her son, sowed and planted, arranging her garden as the seasons succeeded each other, delighting in her personal work therein. Who can measure the charm, to a woman, of even a small garden! How often has she not "heard the voice of the Lord walking in the garden in the cool of the day!" She was born in a garden. Her first perception of beauty was awakened by her flowers. With these for companionship, who can be utterly wretched? Not all unhappy was the prisoner, after his "Picciola" had cleft the stone masonry of his dungeon!
We love to think of Mary Washington in the old garden! Nowhere so sweetly, so gently, can a wearied body fulfil its day, until God wills the release of the soul.
On the 14th of April, 1789, Washington received at Mount Vernon official intelligence that he had been chosen President of the United States. He at onceprepared to go to New York and enter upon the duties of his office, but before doing so he set out on the evening of the same day, mounted on his horse and attended by his favorite body-servant, Billy Lee, to visit his mother in Fredericksburg. He found her feeble in body but bright-minded and cheerful, and he informed her that he had been elected President, and had come to bid her an affectionate farewell before assuming his office. "So soon," he said, "as the public business which must necessarily be encountered in arranging a new government can be disposed of, I shall hasten to Virginia"—but here she interrupted him and said: "You will see me no more. Age and disease warn me that I shall not be long in this world. I trust in God I am somewhat prepared for a better. But go; fulfil the high destinies which Heaven appears to assign you; go, and may Heaven's and your mother's blessing be with you always." This was the last meeting between the mother and the son.
But that her heart followed him through the marvellous events of the next few weeks none can doubt. They helped her to ignore the shadow hanging over her. She was cheerful, strong, and uncomplaining.
She decided to make two visits,—one to the family of Charles and the other to the widow and orphan children of Samuel Washington. The families met together to talk gratefully and affectionately of theillustrious one whom the country was loading with honors. He had left Mount Vernon on the 16th of April. An entry in his diary records his feelings. "I bade adieu to Mount Vernon and domestic felicity and with a mind oppressed with more anxious and painful sensations than I can express, set out for New York with the best disposition to render service to my country in obedience to its call, but with less hope of answering its expectations."
To his friend, General Knox, he wrote: "Integrity and firmness are all I can promise. These, be my voyage long or short, shall never forsake me, although I may be deserted by all men; for of the consolations which are to be derived from these under any circumstances, the world cannot deprive me."
This was the spirit in which he met the extraordinary honors which awaited him. "His progress to the seat of government was a continual ovation. The ringing of bells and roaring of cannonry proclaimed his course through the country. The old and young, women and children, thronged the highways to welcome him." Governors met him at the frontiers of their respective states. Cavalry assembled to escort him. The throngs gathered as he advanced until a mighty host followed him. Arches of flowers and evergreens, and triumphal arches of laurel, spanned the paths he travelled. When he reached the banks of the Delaware hemust have recalled that midnight passage over the ice-bound river at Christmas,—a representation of which hangs in almost every humble hostelry in the country. How different his feelings then and now! Over the stream which flows through Trenton a bridge was decked with laurel, with the inscription, "The Defenders of the Mothers will be the Protectors of the Daughters." The matrons were there; and the young girls, crowned with garlands, strewed his way with flowers, singing of their love and gratitude. No king on his way to coronation ever received such a heartfelt ovation!