The summer passed away in sport and in visits to William Fairfax,
who lived below us on the river. Here I saw much good society, among
others the Masons, Carys, and Lees, and formed an attachment to
William Fairfax, the master of Belvoir, and his son George, which was
never broken, although we came long after to differ in regard to our
political views. But of this, and of his cousin, Lord Fairfax, more
hereafter. In the fall of this year I returned to my mother, or rather,
as before, I went to board across the Rappahannock at Fredericksburg,
in the house of a widow of the name of Stevenson, which she pronounced
Stinson. She had, by her two marriages, six sons, two of them Crawfords
and four Stevensons. They were all well-grown fellows, and of great
strength and bigness.
I am reminded, as I set down in a random way what interests me, that,
as I expected, this act of attention brings to mind some things which
I seemed to have altogether forgotten. Among them is this, that, just
before returning to my school, I went with Lawrence to pay my respects
to Lord Fairfax, who was come for a visit to his cousin at Belvoir.
We found the family, however, in sudden distress at the news, just
arrived, of the death in battle of Thomas, the second son, who was
killed in the Indies, in an engagement on board his Majesty’s ship
_Harwich_. We made, on this account, but a short stay. I remember that,
as we rode away, Lawrence said to me: “A great preacher called Jeremy
Taylor wrote a sermon about death, and gave a long list of the many
ways of dying. Which way, George, would you wish to die?” I said I did
not wish to die at all.
Lawrence said: “But you will die some day. What way would you choose?”
I said I thought to die in battle would be best, and I said this
because I remembered with horror watching how my father died and how
greatly he suffered.
Lawrence said: “The good preacher did not speak of that way to die.”
Now, as I write, being in years, it seems that not in that way shall I
die, nor does it matter.
After this I went back to my mother, or rather to the town of
Fredericksburg. I liked it the more because Colonel Harry Willis lived
there. He married first my aunt Mildred, and second my cousin Mildred,
so that I had about me many cousins, with also Warners and Thorntons of
my kindred.
I was here fortunate in my teacher, of whom I have spoken before. This
gentleman, the Rev. James Marye, was very different in his ways from
some of the clergy put upon us by the Bishop of London, hard-drinking,
ill-mannered men. Mr. Marye was got for St. George’s parish, on a
petition of the vestry to Governor Gooch. He was rector thirty years,
and was succeeded by his son.
On Sunday, as was quite common in Virginia, the girls and boys were
heard the catechism by the rector, and those who did well were rewarded
from time to time――the girls with pincushions and the boys with
trap-balls.
The sons of the widow in whose house I lodged during the week were,
as I have said, rough, big fellows who damaged a great deal the
pride I had in my strength, because among them, for the first time
as concerned lads of near my years, I met my match in wrestling and
jumping, and what we called the Indian hug. Almost all of them served
under me in the war, and one, William Crawford, rose to be a colonel
and perished miserably, being burned at Sandusky in the war with the
Indians, after their cruel way.
The Rev. Mr. Marye concerned himself more than the ordinary schoolmaster
with the manners of his scholars. I may have been inclined beyond most
lads to value his rules of courtesy and decent behaviour, for I kept the
book in which I was made to copy the one hundred and eighteen precepts
he taught us. I conceive them to have been of service to me and to
others. I find the mice have gnawed and eaten a part of these rules.
When, of late, I showed them to my sister Betty, she said she hoped
eating of them would make the mice polite, for she was dreadfully afraid
of those little vermin.
In this manner my next two years passed by. During this time I
became still further attracted by the exactness and interest of the
surveying of land, which I carried on without present thought of gain.
I used to ride into the woods, and, leaving my horse tied, make
use of Peter as a chain-bearer. Sometimes my cousins went with me,
especially Lewis Willis, my schoolmate. But they soon grew tired and
went to bird-nesting, or digging up of woodchucks, or to making the
“praying-mantis” bugs fight one another. I never had much inclination
towards games which had no distinct or lasting result. At any time I
preferred for my play to fish or shoot, when allowed, or to measure
lands and plot them.
Any work demanding strict method is good for a lad, and I found in
surveys an education of value and one suited to my tastes, which never
very much inclined to discover happiness in constant intercourse with
my fellow-men, nor in much reading of books.
X
At the age of fifteen, in the fall of 1747, I went once more, for a
time, to reside with Lawrence at Mount Vernon, where it was to be
finally determined what I should do for a livelihood. As I look back
on this period of my life, I perceive that it was the occasion of many
changes. I saw much more of George William Fairfax and George Mason,
ever since my friends, and was often with George’s father, the master
of Belvoir, only four miles from Mount Vernon.
There came often, for long visits, William’s cousin, Lord Fairfax, over
whose great estates in the valley William was the agent. I learned
later that when first his lordship saw me he pronounced me to be a too
sober little prig――and this, no doubt, I was; but after a time, when
he came to overcome my shyness, he began to show such interest in me
as flattered my pride and pleased my brother Lawrence. At this period
Lord Fairfax was a tall man and gaunt, very ruddy and near-sighted.
It was natural that as a lad I should be pleased by the notice this
gentleman, the only nobleman I had ever seen, began to take of me.
My fondness for surveying he took more seriously than did my own
people, and told me once it was a noble business, because it had to be
truthful, and because it kept a man away from men and, especially, from
women. I did not then understand what he meant, and did not think it
proper to inquire.
I owed to this gentleman opportunities which led on to others, and to
no one else have I been more indebted. I trust and believe that I let
go no chance in after life to serve this admirable family.
True friendship is a plant of slow growth, and must undergo and
withstand the shocks of adversity before it is entitled to the
appellation. In fact, much disaster has befallen these friends, from
whom politics and distance have separated me without weakening my
gratitude or affection.
It has often happened to me to learn that I am thought to be a cold
man, but this I believe to be untrue; for though I am, as concerns
social intercourse and freedom of speech, a man reserved by nature, I
discover in myself a great freedom to express myself affectionately on
paper――nor do I conceive that I am unlike others in feeling the loss of
the many friends whom distance or death has separated from me. But I
will not repine; I have had my day.
As my brother was aware of the advantage it might be to me to secure
the good will of the Fairfaxes, I was encouraged to visit Belvoir
often, and thus was given me the chance to be, when he chose, in the
company of his lordship, who was at this time a frequent guest at
Belvoir with his cousins, and now and then at Mount Vernon.
The company of these gentlemen was of much value to me, and in all
ways useful. William Fairfax was a man of honour and great probity;
also very courteous. He had seen service in both Indies, and had
divers adventures in clearing the pirates out of New Providence, all
of which I was delighted to hear of, and he to relate. He had lived
as a collector of customs in the New England colonies, having taken
a wife at Salem, and had a greater respect for them than was common
in Virginia. Indeed, in those days our planters despised the men of
the North as mere traders and Puritans, while they, in their turn,
considered us godless, drunken, fox-hunting squires, out of which
prejudices arose, during the great war, many jealousies and troubles,
of which, God knows, there were enough without these.
At this time I was old enough to take an interest in what my elders
said of the politics of the colonies. I was more and more surprised
to hear how lightly they regarded the governor. I listened also to
their complaints of the too frequent interference in affairs of which
we knew much, and the advisers of the crown in England very little.
They complained that enterprise was crippled on sea and land, and
considered smuggling a just way to escape some of the grievous duties
laid between the colonies. They felt it unjust that we must use none
but British ships on the ocean, and be cut off from the natural
channels of commerce, etc. I listened eagerly and wondered, as a boy
would, why these great gentlemen, who seemed to me so powerful, should
submit to such wrongs. They spoke also with anger of the way in which
the colonies were being loaded with thieves and women of the worst
class, sent out as convicts. Of the political convicts they spoke with
pity, as indeed they might, for some of these were gentlemen of good
families, and in later times, being freed, prospered in honourable
conditions of life.
There were some singular matters combined with the condition of
indentured servitude. Especially was I one day astonished to learn
that at one time, but earlier than this, if the white master of an
indentured man was fined and could not pay, the debt might be satisfied
by the whipping of one of these bad or unfortunate servants.
Both Fairfaxes spoke with more freedom of the king than did my
brothers. Perhaps they inherited some of the liberty of thought which
made the famous earl of their name a rebel to the crown in the time of
the Commonwealth; and yet, when, at a later day, we had even greater
cause to rebel, they were, to my sorrow, loyal Tories.
I was not without younger friends, for to Belvoir came the Carlyles,
cousins of the Fairfaxes from Alexandria, my own cousin Lawrence,
with my dear cousin Robin Washington of Choptank, and many more,
such as the Carys, Mrs. Fairfax’s kindred, the Masons, and my sister
Betty, a great favourite. But of all these people, the Lord Fairfax
most affected my life, and indirectly prepared me for the career of a
frontier officer. At this time he was fifty-nine years old. Although
a heavy man, he was a fine horseman; and as I never was tired of
the saddle, we were much engaged in the hunting of wild foxes, or,
lacking these, of foxes bagged by the negroes and let loose for the
sport. He was a man who disliked women, and avoided society, or was
inclined to be silent in company; but with me he was a most lively
companion, and would tell me of Oxford, and of having written papers in
the “Spectator,” which I had then begun to read. My sister Betty was
inclined to be merry over his lordship’s fancy to have me ride and hunt
with him, saying that as I never talked except to answer questions, and
his lordship talked only once a week, we were well matched. My brother
Lawrence considered her wanting in respect, and that his lordship might
be of much service to me. I could talk when occasion served, but I had
been taught that it was for my elders to choose whether I should talk
or not. There were times when his lordship was pleased to encourage me
in the asking of questions, and at other times liked to puzzle me with
matters beyond my years.