A Year of Peace
Washington was twenty-seven years old when he settled at Mount Vernon in
the hope of enjoying a life of peaceful domesticity. It was his good
fortune to find a life companion who was his equal in mind and tastes.
This was Martha Custis, a beautiful young widow with two lovely
children, a boy of six and a daughter of four years. Washington’s
fortune was already a handsome one, since he had inherited Mount Vernon,
and through his marriage it was increased by one hundred thousand
dollars. His union was not blessed with children, but Washington brought
up his step-children as carefully as though they had been his own. “I
hope,” he wrote to a friend shortly after his marriage, “to find more
happiness in retirement than I ever experienced in the wide and bustling
world.” He now arranged a plan of life. His greatest inclination was to
occupy himself with farming and gardening. He also intended to enjoy the
treasures of art and literature, but it is only a few months after his
marriage that we find him again engaged in public affairs at
Williamsburg, the seat of the Assembly, where the representatives of the
colonies held their sessions. He had not sought a nomination; contrary
to the usual custom in the colonies, he had not even put himself in
touch with the voters. It was the unbounded confidence of the people
alone which had given him the election. If he had only considered what
was personally most agreeable to himself, he would have remained on his
beautiful estate; but duty, as the true patriot understands it, left him
no choice. It must have been a consolation to his family that the
sessions of the Assembly usually lasted but a few months in each year.
When Washington’s election was announced in the Assembly, it was
determined by a vote of the house to mark his installation by a signal
testimonial of respect. Accordingly, as soon as he took his seat, Mr.
Robinson, the speaker, in eloquent language dictated by the warmth of
private friendship, returned thanks on behalf of the colony for the
distinguished military services he had rendered his country. Mr.
Robinson became so carried away by enthusiasm and the warmth of his
feelings and used such fiery language that the young hero was greatly
embarrassed. He stood up to acknowledge the honor done him, but his
embarrassment was so great that he began to tremble violently and could
not utter a word. He blushed, stammered, and remained speechless. The
speaker then came to the rescue with a presence of mind and tact which
would have done honor to Louis the Fourteenth in the happiest and
proudest moments of his life. “Sit down, Mr. Washington,” he said with a
reassuring smile; “your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses
the power of any language I possess.” It has often been noted that great
men are especially apt to be overcome with confusion on their first
attempt at speaking in public. Respect for the intellect of those whom
they are to address, together with a modest estimate of their own
powers, causes their timidity, while a high opinion of one’s own talents
and a low estimate of the intellectual calibre of one’s hearers often
leads to an overweening self-confidence. This timidity to which earnest
natures are prone disappears gradually. It was so with Washington. He
never became a brilliant orator; indeed, he never made a set speech. In
spite of this his influence as a representative was exceedingly
important. With the same conscientiousness which we have noted thus far
in all his work, he studied every question which came before the
Assembly. The demands of duty coincided with his old habit of constantly
striving to widen his intellectual horizon through faithful study. As
his powers of judgment were very keen and he followed the discussions
with strict attention, his expositions, which were generally short, had
almost always great weight. His mode of expression was simple, as it did
not deal with appearances, but was always to the point. Thus it happened
that a few of his pertinent remarks were often sufficient to change the
trend of the discussion completely. When he arose to speak every one
paid attention. What does Washington say about this or that question?
This was often heard amongst the members. His principal guide was the
ardent wish to make himself useful to his country. This was expressed in
his whole attitude, which never showed the slightest trace of frivolity.
He was scarcely ever late at the meetings or went away before the close.
In this respect also he showed himself to be a true patriot and
thoroughly upright man. And withal what childlike gayety and
light-heartedness he could exhibit in his family circle or in the
society of intimate friends!
The advice which Washington gave to his nephew when he was about to take
his seat in the Assembly is notable. “If you wish,” he said to him, “to
hold the attention of those present, I can only advise that you speak
seldom, and only on important points, with the exception of matters
pertaining to your constituents; and in the first case, make yourself
thoroughly acquainted beforehand with the question. Do not allow
yourself to be carried away by undue ardor and do not rely too much on
your own judgment. A dictatorial tone, though it may sometimes be
convincing, is always irritating.”
He still had the greater part of the year in which to follow his
favorite pursuits, which were, as has already been remarked, of an
agricultural nature. And Mount Vernon was a magnificent country seat.
Washington Irving says: “The mansion was beautifully situated on a
swelling height, crowned with wood, and commanding a magnificent view up
and down the Potomac. The grounds immediately about it were laid out
somewhat in the English taste. The estate was apportioned into separate
farms, devoted to different kinds of culture, each having its allotted
laborers. Much, however, was still covered with wild woods seamed with
deep dells and runs of water and indented with inlets, haunts of deer
and lurking place of foxes. The whole woody region along the Potomac
from Mount Vernon to Belvoir and far beyond, with its range of forests
and hills and picturesque promontories, afforded sport of various kinds,
and was a noble hunting ground.” Washington himself speaks of the place
in one of his letters, and from his description one can see how fond he
was of Mount Vernon. “No estate in United America,” he says, “is more
pleasantly situated. In a high and healthy country; in a latitude
between the extremes of heat and cold; on one of the finest rivers in
the world; a river well stocked with various kinds of fish at all
seasons of the year, and in the Spring with shad, herrings, bass, carp,
sturgeon, etc., in great abundance. The borders of the estate are washed
by more than ten miles of tide water; several valuable fisheries
appertain to it; the whole shore, in fact, is one entire fishery.”
A great plantation in Virginia, at that time, was like a little
principality. The principal house, which was occupied by the owner, was
the seat of power. In a neighboring house lived the steward or overseer
of the slaves, who was the prime minister of the little kingdom.
Connected with his house were kitchens, workshops, and stables. There
was a crowd of negro servants hanging about the buildings and manor
house; the number who worked in the fields was still greater and their
neat cabins formed a little village. A well laid out garden belonged to
each cabin. The barnyard swarmed with fowls, and negro children
disported themselves before the cabins in the sunshine.
With these hints the reader can complete the picture of Mount Vernon in
his own mind. There were many planters in the colony who, like the
Merovingians of old, left the management of their estates entirely in
the hands of their stewards, only requiring the payment of the income,
so that they might enjoy as many luxuries as possible. But this was not
so at Mount Vernon. Washington was the prince and father of his little
kingdom. Almost daily, and generally on horseback, he visited his
fields, pastures, fisheries, and mills. As a rule, on this tour of
inspection he wore a pongee-colored coat with gilt buttons. Let us take
the opportunity of presenting a picture of the stately man as it has
been drawn for us: Washington’s dignified bearing was without pride, his
firmness without obstinacy or arrogance. His outward appearance was
equally harmonious. The effect of his gigantic stature—Washington was
over six feet tall—was modified by beauty and perfect proportion. He was
like a grand building, in which the complete symmetry of the separate
parts gives it charm. His fiery nature was held in check by good sense.
His courage was never foolhardy, nor did his caution ever proceed from
fear. His reliable judgment was the result of a good memory. Industry
and hard work with him never degenerated into unsociability or
moroseness. When Washington drove to church with his family, or went on
a visit to William Fairfax or some other relative or friend, the state
coach with its four horses was brought out. Then the black servants,
coachman, and overseer, donned gorgeous liveries.
But how is this, the reader will perhaps ask; did Washington own slaves?
In answering this question one must take into consideration that
Washington was born into a slave community. The custom of a country puts
its stamp on each and every native citizen. We shall never be able to
judge any historical personage without carefully studying the customs of
the period and the intellectual tendencies of his time. Not until this
has been done can the question be asked, How did this man stand in
relation to the prevailing opinions and customs of his time? Slavery was
an ugly blot on the State, especially the slavery which was inaugurated
during the Christian era. Nothing is so fertile in expedients as human
selfishness. It was represented to “his most Christian majesty,” King
Louis the Thirteenth of France, that free negroes would not accept
Christianity, but that if they were made slaves, it would be an easy
matter to make Christians of them! Furthermore they said: “The negro
tribes have the custom of killing their prisoners of war; should we
introduce slavery into our colonies, those tribes would no longer kill
their captives, but would sell them to us. In this way we should save
their lives and this would make slavery an advantage to them.” This
reasoning appealed to the King, and thus this wrong, which had been
introduced by the Portuguese, became lawful among the French. It was not
long before it was customary for the Portuguese, Spanish, French, and
English settlers to import negroes. The number of negroes who were
kidnapped is estimated at forty millions. The sins of the fathers have
been visited heavily on the children, as we know, and the sacrifice of
much blood was necessary to give back to the negroes those human rights
of which they had been despoiled.
Returning to our history, in order that we may not judge falsely, we
must inquire what attitude Washington took in regard to this institution
in the midst of which he had grown up. The first answer is, toward his
slaves he was like a wise father caring for his children. What he did
for them in later times we shall relate at the end of the story. He did
not overburden his slaves with work, but he did not allow them to be
idle. Idleness seemed almost worse to him than an overplus of work.
Nature is one great workshop. Those organisms which no longer work fall
into decay. Useful work preserves and stimulates the body and mind of
man. Laziness is the forerunner of mental decay; he who turns away from
all useful occupations is subject to wicked thoughts. Therefore the old
proverb is full of truth: “Satan finds work for idle hands to do.” He
who governs others must be careful to keep them properly employed.
Everybody has at least one person to command—himself. Let him take care
that this person does not give way to idleness. To fashion one’s own
character is the highest kind of task, but he alone accomplishes this
who is careful to do his work with a higher and higher degree of
perfection. In this sense every human being has an opportunity to
perfect himself, whether he uses a needle, walks behind the plough, or
whether the pen is his implement. As long as a man works under
compulsion, he is on a low plane of development. He is exposed to the
danger of perishing. It is only the influence from without that upholds
him. Compulsion is, after all, a blessing for him, even though through
it he may not reach a high degree of efficiency. From the moment,
however, that a man begins to follow his calling with the avowed purpose
not only of fulfilling the duties of his position, but endeavors to
grow, morally and intellectually, he belongs to a higher order of
humanity. All benefactors of the human race have been of this higher
order. They labored in the sweat of their brows and still were happy in
the thought that their work was equally of advantage to themselves and
to others. Through labor and sorrow their lives gained value. In this
order of humanity there are, of course, different degrees of rank. To
one who belongs to it, however, the way is open to the summit of human
felicity. Any one may seek this path, whatever station in life he may
occupy. Only fulfil the duties which your position demands of you and
this happy goal may be yours. Conscientiousness and faithfulness lead
thither. But how many squander their thoughts and feelings on unworthy
objects! Good fortune is always close beside us and doing our duty is
the magic formula which makes it our own. In regard to a true estimate
of the value of work, the example of Washington and his friends—among
them we at once think of the splendid Franklin—has not been without its
fruits among Americans. The Frenchman Laboulaye has said: “The further
we progress, the more we comprehend that the man who works is the true
nobleman and that he who does nothing is a man whom we have much to
forgive, however rich he may be. In the United States, the man who does
nothing is considered an enemy of society. Mothers protect their
daughters from him and all sensible people withhold their respect from
him. That he who does nothing will end by doing evil is the right
conclusion of the Americans.”
No small part of Washington’s work consisted in regulating the labor of
his servants, overseeing them, and disposing the right forces in the
proper places. As we have said, he was as anxious to keep his slaves
from being overworked as he was to keep them from idleness. In his
diaries we find notes of how he managed to preserve the balance. He
noted exactly how much this or that piece of work progressed in a given
time and made a plan for the day’s work in accordance with this
observation. Of course he took into consideration the delays which are
inevitable under certain conditions. The best of all was that he often
lent a hand himself. One great feature of the evil which slavery brought
into the world consisted in the feeling which grew up among the masters
that any form of farm work or manual labor was degrading. As the slaves
had to do all of this “degrading work,” they felt that they were under a
curse. These were the common views of antiquity, and during slavery
times in the American colonies they began to acquire a fresh hold. It is
somewhat of a question whether even now more sensible opinions prevail
among those who call themselves aristocrats.
At Mount Vernon the slaves often saw their master at work in the garden
or in the fields. At one time he spent several days in the smithy with
his negroes, fashioning a new plough of his own invention. The work was
carried out to his satisfaction, and thereupon the negroes saw him set
to work ploughing up a new piece of meadow land. One of his mills was in
danger of being destroyed by a flood. In a pouring rain he marched out
at the head of his servants and helped to do the work which was needful
in order to save the building.
Washington was in the habit of rising very early, in the Winter long
before daybreak. He did not wish to disturb others, however, in the
early morning hours. He lit his own fire and read and wrote until
breakfast was ready for the family—which in Summer was at seven o’clock
and in Winter at eight o’clock. He then took two cups of tea and with
them a few hoecakes. At two o’clock he dined. Although he was rich, his
table was very simple. At dinner he drank two glasses of wine and
sometimes he took cider. He went to bed at nine o’clock. He kept a
complete record of the many kinds of work which were carried on on his
estates, with separate books for letter copies. Thus he was able to
maintain a complete and clear oversight over his affairs. The principal
product of the plantations was tobacco, which was an important article
of export to England. There were several lading places on the Potomac
River for the tobacco which was grown for the market on the Mount Vernon
estate. It was not long before Washington had acquired such a reputation
for reliability and square dealing with the foreign merchants that they
considered it unnecessary to examine the boxes and bales which bore his
stamp.
He was very fond of exercising hospitality, as his diaries tell us. We
find in them the names of all the men who later became celebrated in the
colonies. Especially during the fox-hunting season, his house was often
the meeting place for neighboring lovers of the sport, for he found
hunting an agreeable relaxation. Among the visitors, one of whom was the
venerable Lord Fairfax, there were a number of highly educated
gentlemen. To have intercourse with men of this kind was as great a
necessity for him as was the reading of good books. But his activities
extended beyond the borders of his own estate. With men of congenial
minds he discussed a plan for draining and turning into pasture land a
great swamp nearly thirty miles long and ten miles wide. He made the
necessary inspection himself, both on foot and on horseback. The tour
was exceedingly toilsome and dangerous in many spots. At certain places
he found thick forests of cypresses, cedars, and foliage trees with long
moss hanging from the branches. Again he was obliged to force his way
through thickets of thorn and creepers. His horse often sunk to its
haunches in the marsh. It was then necessary to proceed on foot over the
uncertain ground, and after making a reconnoissance, to make his way
back to the horse over the same dangerous path. In this way he
penetrated from several directions into this unknown wilderness, until
he had as clear an idea of it as possible, and then he drew up a plan
for draining and making the marsh arable. The fact that the plan had
been drawn up by Washington, and that he considered its execution
entirely feasible, was sufficient to cause a number of well-to-do people
to form a company to take up the work. It took but a few years to
transform this wild region into a splendid strip of land composed of
fruitful fields and grassy pastures.
These occupations were very congenial and Washington wished for nothing
more earnestly than that he might be allowed to pass his whole life in
the same manner. But Providence had ordained otherwise. An event
happened which this law-abiding subject never could have desired, for he
was devoted to the mother country. The colonies quarrelled with England,
and it was this circumstance which suddenly tore him from his peaceful
existence.