Martha Dandridge was born in the county of New Kent, Virginia, in May,
1732. Her education was entirely of a domestic character, there being
no schools in the region where she dwelt. As she grew up, she was
distinguished for personal beauty, pleasing manners, and general
amiability of demeanor. She frequently appeared at the court of
Williamsburg, then held by the royal governors of Virginia, and became
a general favorite.
At the age of seventeen, she was married to Daniel Park Custis, of her
native county, and the new-married couple were settled at the White
House, on the banks of the Pamunkey River. Mr. Custis devoted himself
to agricultural pursuits, and became an eminently successful planter.
They had four children, two of whom died at an early period. Martha
arrived at womanhood, and died at Mount Vernon, in 1770, and John
perished at the age of twenty-seven, while in the service of his
country, at the siege of Yorktown, in 1781. Mr. Custis died at about
middle age, leaving his widow, still young, yet possessed of an ample
fortune. Beside extensive landed estates, she had L30,000 sterling in
money.
[Illustration: MRS. WASHINGTON.]
Mrs. Custis was sole executor of her husband's will, and she appears
to have been well qualified to discharge the duties which devolved
upon her. She conducted her affairs with surprising ability, and the
concerns of her extensive fortune seemed to thrive under her
management. In 1758, Colonel Washington, then twenty-six years of age,
became accidentally acquainted with the fair widow, and, after a brief
courtship, they were married. This occurred in 1759. Soon after, they
removed to Mount Vernon, which henceforward became their permanent
residence.
Mrs. Washington had no children by this second marriage. Martha and
John Custis were, however, fully adopted into the affections of her
present husband. In discharging her various domestic duties, and
rearing her children, time flowed smoothly on for almost twenty years.
In 1775, Washington, being appointed commander-in-chief of the
American army, proceeded to Cambridge, and did not return to Mount
Vernon till after the peace of 1783, except in a single instance. In
December, she proceeded to Cambridge, and joined her husband. Here she
remained till spring, having witnessed the siege and evacuation of
Boston. She then returned to Virginia.
During the war, it was the custom for the general to despatch an
aid-de-camp to Mount Vernon, at the close of each campaign, to escort
his wife to head-quarters. The arrival of Lady Washington, as she was
now called, at the camp, was an event always anticipated with
pleasure, and was the signal for the ladies of the general officers to
join their husbands. The appearance of the aid-de-camp, escorting the
plain family chariot, with the neat postilions in their scarlet and
white liveries, was deemed an epoch in the army, and served to diffuse
a cheering influence even amid the gloom which hung over our
destinies, at Valley Forge, Morristown, and West Point. She always
remained at head-quarters till the opening of the campaign, and she
often remarked, in after life, that it had been her fortune to hear
the first cannon at the opening, and the last at the closing, of the
several campaigns of the war.
During the whole period of the revolutionary struggle, she preserved
her equanimity, together with a degree of cheerfulness which
inspired all around her with the brightest hopes of final success.
The glorious results of the campaign of 1781 were, however,
associated with an event most afflictive to her. John Custis, now her
only child, had accompanied Washington to the siege of Boston, and had
witnessed the most important events of the contest. At Yorktown, he
was one of the aids of Washington, and lived to see the surrender of
the British army on the 19th of October; but he died soon after of
camp fever, which was then raging to a frightful extent within the
enemy's intrenchments.
The war being closed, Washington returned to Mount Vernon. His time
was now occupied in the peaceful pursuits of private life. He
cultivated his lands, and improved his residence at Mount Vernon by
additional buildings, and the laying out of his gardens and grounds.
He occasionally diversified his employments by the pleasures of the
chase. Much of his time, however, was occupied in discharging the
grateful duties of hospitality. His fame was spread far and wide, and
his home was crowded with guests, among whom were often seen
illustrious strangers from foreign lands. During this happy period,
Mrs. Washington performed the duties of a Virginia housewife, and
presided at her well-spread board, with an ease and elegance of manner
suited to her character and station.
The period at length arrived when Washington was again to leave his
home, and enter upon public duties. Being elected president of the
United States, he set out, in the spring of 1789, to join Congress at
New York, then the seat of the general government. Accompanied by his
lady, he proceeded to that city, every where received by crowds of
people, showering upon him their most grateful homage. At Trenton, New
Jersey, he was received in a manner which is said to have affected him
even to tears. In addition to the usual military compliments, the
bridge over the creek running through the town was covered with a
triumphal arch, supported by thirteen pillars, entwined and ornamented
with flowers and laurel, and bearing on the front, in large gilt
letters, this inscription:--
"THE DEFENDER OF THE MOTHERS
WILL BE THE
PROTECTOR OF THE DAUGHTERS."
Here were assembled the mothers and daughters dressed in white, each
bearing a basket of flowers, which were strewn before the chief,
while they sang it chorus,
"Welcome, mighty chief, once more,
Welcome to this grateful shore;
Now no mercenary foe
Aims again the fatal blow,
Aims at thee the fatal blow.
Virgins fair and matrons grave,
Those thy conquering arms did save,
Build for thee triumphal bowers;
Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers,
Strew your hero's way with flowers."
Arrived at New York, the president's establishment was formed upon a
scale partaking at once of simplicity and dignity. "The house was
handsomely furnished; the equipages neat, with horses of the first
order; the servants wore the family liveries; and, with the exception
of a steward and housekeeper, the whole establishment differed very
little from that of a private gentleman. On Tuesdays, from three to
four o'clock, the president received the foreign ambassadors and
strangers who wished to be introduced to him. On these occasions, and
when opening the session of Congress, he wore a dress sword. His
personal apparel was always remarkable for being old-fashioned, and
exceedingly plain and neat.
"On Thursdays were the congressional dinners, and on Friday night,
Mrs. Washington's drawing-room. The company usually assembled about
seven, and rarely staid exceeding ten o'clock. The ladies were seated,
and the president passed round the circle, paying his compliments to
each. At the drawing-rooms, Mrs. Morris always sat at the right of the
lady president, and at all dinners, public or private, at which Robert
Morris was a guest, that venerable man was placed at the right of Mrs.
Washington. When ladies called at the president's mansion, the habit
was for the secretaries and gentlemen of the president's household to
hand them to and from their carriages; but when the honored relicts of
Greene and Montgomery came, the president himself performed these
complimentary duties.
"On the great national festivals of the fourth of July and twenty-second
of February, the sages of the revolutionary Congress and the officers
of the revolutionary army renewed their acquaintance with Mrs.
Washington. Many and kindly greetings took place, with many a
recollection of the days of trial. The members of the Society of
Cincinnatus, after paying their respects to the chief, were seen to
file off towards the parlor, where Lady Washington was in waiting to
receive them, and where Wayne, and Mifflin, and Dickenson, and Stewart,
and Moylan, and Hartley, and a host of veterans, were cordially
welcomed as old friends, and where many an interesting reminiscence
was called up, of the head-quarters and the 'times of the revolution.'
"On Sundays, unless the weather was uncommonly severe, the president
and Mrs. Washington attended divine service at Christ Church; and in
the evenings, the president read to Mrs. Washington, in her chamber, a
sermon, or some portion of the sacred writings. No visitors, with the
exception of Mr. Trumbull, of Connecticut,--who was then speaker of
the house, and afterwards governor of Connecticut,--were admitted on
Sunday.
"There was one description of visitors, however, to be found about the
first president's mansion, on all days. The old soldiers repaired, as
they said, to head-quarters, just to inquire after the health of his
excellency and Lady Washington. They knew his excellency was, of
course, much engaged; but they would like to see the good lady. One
had been a soldier of the life-guard; another had been on duty, when
the British threatened to surprise the head-quarters; a third had
witnessed that terrible fellow, Cornwallis, surrender his sword; each
one had some touching appeal, with which to introduce himself at the
peaceful head-quarters of the president. All were 'kindly bid to
stay,' were conducted to the steward's apartments, and refreshments
set before them; and, after receiving some little token from the lady,
with her best wishes for the health and happiness of an old soldier,
they went their ways, while blessings upon their revered commander and
the good Lady Washington were uttered by many a war-worn veteran of
the revolution."[3]
In the autumn of 1789, General Washington made a tour to the Eastern
States. Soon after his return, Mrs. Washington addressed a letter to
Mrs. Warren, of Boston, giving an account of her views and feelings at
that period, which, as it is interesting for the information it
contains, and alike creditable to the head and heart of the writer, we
present to the reader. It is dated December 26th, 1789.
"Your very friendly letter of last month has afforded much more
satisfaction than all the formal compliments and empty ceremonies of
mere etiquette could possibly have done. I am not apt to forget the
feelings which have been inspired by my former society with good
acquaintances, nor to be insensible to their expressions of gratitude
to the president; for you know me well enough to do me the justice to
believe that I am fond only of what comes from the heart. Under a
conviction that the demonstrations of respect and affection to him
originate in that source, I cannot deny that I have taken some
interest and pleasure in them. The difficulties which first presented
themselves to view on his first entering upon the presidency, seem
thus to be in some measure surmounted. It is owing to the kindness of
our numerous friends in all quarters that my new and unwished-for
situation is not indeed a burden to me. When I was much younger, I
should probably have enjoyed the innocent gayeties of life as much as
most persons of my age; but I had long since placed all the prospects
of my future happiness in the still enjoyments of the fireside at
Mount Vernon.
"I little thought, when the war was finished, that any circumstances
could possibly happen, which would call the general into public life
again. I had anticipated that, from that moment, we should be suffered
to grow old together in solitude and tranquillity. That was the first
and dearest wish of my heart. I will not, however, contemplate with
too much regret, disappointments that were inevitable, though his
feelings and my own were in perfect unison with respect to our
predilection for private life. Yet I cannot blame him for having
acted according to his ideas of duty in obeying the voice of his
country. The consciousness of having attempted to do all the good in
his power, and the pleasure of finding his fellow-citizens so well
satisfied with the disinterestedness of his conduct, will, doubtless,
be some compensation for the great sacrifices which I know he has
made. Indeed, on his journey from Mount Vernon to this place in his
late tour through the Eastern States, by every public and every
private information which has come to him, I am persuaded he has
experienced nothing to make him repent his having acted from what he
conceived to be a sense of indispensable duty. On the contrary, all
his sensibility has been awakened in receiving such repeated and
unequivocal proofs of sincere regard from his countrymen.
"With respect to myself, I sometimes think the arrangement is not
quite as it ought to have been,--that I, who had much rather be at
home, should occupy a place with which a great many younger and gayer
women would be extremely pleased. As my grandchildren and domestic
connections make up a great portion of the felicity which I looked for
in this world, I shall hardly be able to find any substitute that will
indemnify me for the loss of a part of such endearing society. I do
not say this because I feel dissatisfied with my present station; for
every body and every thing conspire to make me as contented as
possible in it; yet I have learned too much of the vanity of human
affairs to expect felicity from the scenes of public life. I am still
determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may be;
for I have also learned from experience that the greater part of our
happiness or misery depends on our dispositions, and not on our
circumstances. We carry the seeds of the one or the other about with
us in our minds wherever we go.
"I have two of my grandchildren with me, who enjoy advantages in point
of education, and who, I trust, by the goodness of Providence, will be
a great blessing to me. My other two grandchildren are with their
mother in Virginia."
In the spring of 1797, bidding adieu to public life, Washington
took leave of the seat of government, and returned to Mount Vernon,
prepared in good earnest to spend the remainder of his days in
retirement. He accepted, indeed, the command of the army of the
United States, soon after; but this did not draw him from his home.
In 1799, he died, after a brief illness. His affectionate partner
was at the bedside when his spirit departed. "It is all over now,"
said she. "I shall soon follow him. I have no more trials to pass
through." About two years after, she was seized with bilious fever.
Being perfectly aware that her end was at hand, she assembled her
grandchildren at her bedside, discoursed with them of their duties in
life, of the happy influences of religion, of the consolations it had
afforded her in hours of affliction, and the hopes it offered of a
blessed immortality; and then, surrounded by weeping relatives,
friends, and domestics, the venerable relict of Washington resigned
her life into the hands of her Creator, in the seventy-first year
of her age.
Few women have figured in the great drama of life, amid scenes so
varied and imposing, with so few faults, and so many virtues, as
Martha Washington. Identified with the Father of his country in the
great events which led to our national independence, she partook much
of his thoughts, views, and counsels. In the dark hours of trial, her
cheerfulness soothed his anxieties, and her devotional piety aided him
in drawing hope and confidence from Heaven. She was indeed the fit
partner of Washington, and, in her sphere, appears to have discharged
her duties with a dignity, devotion, and consistency, worthy of her
exalted destinies.
[3] American Portrait Gallery.