made by political opponents of the aristocratic and royal demeanor of
the President. Particularly, these complaints were about the manner of
his receiving visitors. In a letter Washington gave account of the
origin of his levees: "Before the custom was established," he wrote,
"which now accommodates foreign characters, strangers, and others, who,
from motives of curiosity, respect for the chief magistrate, or other
cause, are induced to call upon me, I was unable to attend to any
business whatever; for gentlemen, consulting their own convenience
rather than mine, were calling after the time I rose from breakfast, and
often before, until I sat down to dinner. This, as I resolved not to
neglect my public duties, reduced me to the choice of one of these
alternatives: either to refuse visits altogether, or to appropriate a
time for the reception of them.... To please everybody was impossible.
I, therefore, adopted that line of conduct which combined public
advantage with private convenience.... These visits are optional, they
are made without invitation; between the hours of three and four every
Tuesday I am prepared to receive them. Gentlemen, often in great
numbers, come and go, chat with each other, and act as they please. A
porter shows them into the room, and they retire from it when they
choose, without ceremony. At their first entrance they salute me, and I
them, and as many as I can talk to."
An English gentleman, after visiting President Washington, wrote: "There
was a commanding air in his appearance which excited respect and forbade
too great a freedom toward him, independently of that species of awe
which is always felt in the moral influence of a great character? In
every movement, too, there was a polite gracefulness equal to any met
with in the most polished individuals of Europe, and his smile was
extraordinarily attractive.... It struck me no man could be better
formed for command. A stature of six feet, a robust but
well-proportioned frame calculated to stand fatigue, without that
heaviness which generally attends great muscular strength and abates
active exertion, displayed bodily power of no mean standard. A light eye
and full--the very eye of genius and reflection. His nose appeared
thick, and though it befitted his other features, was too coarsely and
strongly formed to be the handsomest of its class. His mouth was like no
other I ever saw: the lips firm, and the under jaw seeming to grasp the
upper with force, as if its muscles were in full action when he sat
still."
Such Washington appeared to those who saw and knew him. Such he remains
to our vision. His memory is held by us in undying honor. Not only his
memory alone, but also the memory of his associates in the struggle for
American Independence. Homage we should have in our hearts for those
patriots and heroes and sages who with humble means raised their native
land--now our native land--from the depths of dependence, and made it a
free nation. And especially for Washington, who presided over the
nation's course at the beginning of the great experiment in
self-government and, after an unexampled career in the service of
freedom and our human-kind, with no dimming of august fame, died calmly
at Mount Vernon--the Father of his Country.
FOOTNOTES:
[16] From "Heroes Every Child Should Know." Copyright, 1906, by
Doubleday, Page & Co.
* * * * *
WASHINGTON'S LAST DAYS[17]
BY ELIZABETH EGGLESTON SEELYE
Once more before he died Washington was called into public life for a
short time. President Adams had sent three commissioners to France. The
French Minister, Talleyrand, treated them ill, and sent secret agents to
them to let them know that nothing would be done until they paid large
bribes. The three Americans sent home cipher dispatches in which they
told how they had been received. President Adams thought best to publish
these dispatches, putting the letters X, Y, and Z in place of the names
of the secret agents. These papers came to be known as the X, Y, and Z
dispatches, and they caused great excitement in America. The cry was,
"Millions for defense, but not one cent for tribute," and the war spirit
rose very high. Everyone wished Washington to be the leader in case
there should be war with France. President Adams accordingly wrote to
Washington, asking him to accept the command of the new army which was
to be formed. Washington accepted, on condition that he was not to be
called into service unless there should really be war, and that he
should be allowed to name the chief officers who were to serve under
him. He wished to put a young and able man second in command--for old
officers seldom make good ones--so he chose Hamilton first, then
Pinckney, and then Knox. Adams disliked Hamilton, and tried to place
Knox second in command, as this old officer thought his due. There was
some trouble between Washington and Adams on this point, but Adams was
forced to give way to the great leader. Washington went to Philadelphia
in the fall of 1798, to work over army plans with his major-generals. It
seemed possible that he might have to lead the Americans against one of
Napoleon's great armies. But though he made careful preparations,
Washington did not believe that there would be war. He thought, however,
that preparing for war would be the best way to bring about peace. And
so it proved; for no sooner did Talleyrand see that the Americans were
really aroused than he caused it to be intimated to the American
Minister at Holland that he would treat another envoy better. Adams
accordingly sent one to France, and war was finally averted, though the
news of the settlement did not reach America until after the death of
her great General.
Washington had said, "I am of a short-lived family, and cannot remain
long upon the earth." In fact, his sister and all of his brothers except
one died before he did. According to his usual careful habits, he made
out a long paper, in which he planned how his estates should be managed
for several years, with a rotation of crops. He finished this paper only
four days before his death. The day before he was taken ill he walked
out with his nephew, Lawrence Lewis, who was married to Nelly Custis
and living at Mount Vernon, and talked to him about building a new
family vault. "This change," said he, "I shall make first of all, for I
may require it before the rest."
On the 12th of December, 1799, Washington made the tour, as usual, of
his plantations. The weather was very bad. There was rain, hail, and
snow falling at different times, and a cold wind blowing. It was after
three o'clock when he returned. Mr. Lear, his secretary, brought him
some letters to be franked, for he intended to send them to the post
office that afternoon. Washington franked the letters, but said that the
weather was too bad to send a servant out with them. Lear noticed that
the General's neck appeared to be wet, and that there was snow clinging
to his hair. He spoke to him about it, but Washington said that he was
not wet, as his greatcoat had protected him. He went to dinner, which
was waiting for him, without changing his clothes. The next day he
complained of a sore throat, and remained in the house in the morning,
as it was snowing hard. In the afternoon, however, he went out to mark
some trees which he wished cut down, between the house and the river. He
was quite hoarse by evening. He sat in the parlor, however, with Mrs.
Washington and Lear, reading the papers which had been brought from the
post office. He read some things aloud in spite of his hoarseness. At
nine o'clock Mrs. Washington went to the room of her granddaughter
Nelly, whose first child had recently been born. The two gentlemen
continued to read the papers, and Washington seemed cheerful. Once he
became excited over some political event, and used some of the strong
words he could command on occasion. Before they went to bed, Lear
advised the General to take something for his cold.
"No," said Washington; "you know I never take anything for a cold. Let
it go as it came."
During the night, however, he had a chill, and awoke Mrs. Washington,
telling her that he felt ill. She wished to get up, but he would not
allow her to do this, lest she should take cold. When the servant came
into the room to make a fire at daylight, Mrs. Washington sent for Lear,
and got up herself. The General was now breathing with difficulty, and
could scarcely speak. Lear sent for Dr. Craik, and meantime Washington
told him to send for Mr. Rawlins, an overseer, to bleed him. Rawlins
came soon after sunrise, and trembled at the prospect of opening a vein
on the great man's arm. "Don't be afraid," said Washington; and when the
vein had been opened, he added, "the orifice is not large enough." Mrs.
Washington did not approve of the bleeding before the doctor came, but
Washington said, "More, more." It was a universal remedy in those days,
but it brought no relief to the sufferer.
During the day three doctors arrived. Washington was bled three times;
blisters were applied to the throat and the feet; all that medical
science could do in that day was tried, but without success. The disease
was an acute laryngitis, and could have been relieved only by
tracheotomy, which was not practical in the South, though it had been
tried in Philadelphia at an earlier date. About half-past four in the
afternoon the sick man asked Mrs. Washington to go downstairs and fetch
two wills from his desk. He looked at them, and asked her to burn one of
them, which she did. Lear now came to his bedside and took his hand.
"I find I am going," Washington said to him. "My breath cannot last
long. I believed from the first that the disorder would prove fatal. Do
you arrange and record all my late military letters and papers. Arrange
my accounts and settle my books, as you know more about them than anyone
else, and let Mr. Rawlins finish recording my other letters which he has
begun."
Washington asked Lear whether he thought of anything else that ought to
be done; he had but a very short time, he said, to remain with his
friends. The secretary answered that he could think of nothing, and that
he hoped the General was not so near his end as he thought. Washington
smiled, and said that he certainly was, "and that, as it was a debt
which we must all pay, he looked on the event with perfect resignation."
Sometimes he seemed to be in pain and distress from the difficulty of
breathing, and was very restless. Lear would then lie down upon the bed
and raise and turn him as gently as possibly. Washington often said, "I
am afraid I shall fatigue you too much"; and when the young man assured
him that he wished for nothing but to give him ease, Washington replied:
"Well, it is a debt we must pay to each other, and I hope that when you
want aid of this kind you will find it."
He noticed that his servant, Christopher, had been standing most of the
day, and told him to sit down. He asked when his nephew Lewis and his
adopted son Custis, who were away from home, would return. When his
lifelong friend, Dr. Craik, came to his bedside, he said: "Doctor, I die
hard, but I am not afraid to go. I believed from my first attack that I
should not survive it. My breath cannot last long." The doctor was
unable to answer from grief, and could only press his hand.
He afterward said to all the physicians: "I feel myself going. I thank
you for your attentions; but, I pray you, take no more trouble about me.
Let me go off quietly; I cannot last long." He continued to be restless
and uneasy, but made no complaints, only asking now and then what time
it was. When Lear helped him to move, he gave the secretary a look of
gratitude. About ten o'clock at night he made several efforts to speak
to Lear before he could do so. He finally said: "I am just going. Have
me decently buried; and do not let my body be put into the vault in less
than three days after I am dead." Lear nodded, for he could not speak.
"Do you understand?" asked Washington.
"Yes."
"'Tis well," said the dying man.
About ten minutes before death his breathing became easier; he felt his
own pulse, and the expression of his face changed. One hand presently
fell from the wrist of the other. Lear took it in his and pressed it to
his bosom.
Mrs. Washington, who sat near the foot of the bed, asked in a firm
voice, "Is he gone?"
Lear was unable to speak, but made a sign that Washington was dead.
"Tis well," said she; "all is now over; I shall soon follow him; I have
no more trials to pass through."
Washington died on December 14, 1799, in his sixty-eighth year. All his
neighbors and relatives assembled to attend his funeral; the militia and
Freemasons of Alexandria were present; eleven pieces of artillery were
brought to Mount Vernon to do military honors, and a schooner which lay
in the Potomac fired minute guns. Washington's horse, with saddle,
holster, and pistols, was led before the coffin by two grooms dressed in
black. The body was deposited in the old family vault, after short and
simple ceremonies. Washington was deeply mourned all over the United
States, for never had a man been so beloved by his own countrymen.
Washington left all of his estates to his wife for life; after her death
they were to be divided between his nephews and nieces, and Mrs.
Washington's grandchildren. He made his nephew, Bushrod Washington, his
principal heir, leaving Mount Vernon to him. He said that he did this
partly because he had promised the young man's father, his brother, John
Augustine, when they were bachelors, to leave Mount Vernon to him in
case he should fall in the French war. He willed that all his negro
slaves should be set free on the death of his wife. He said that he
earnestly wished that it might be done before this, but he feared it
would cause trouble on account of their intermarriages with the dower
negroes who came to Mrs. Washington from her first husband, and whom he
had no right to free. He willed also that such should be comfortably
clothed and fed by his heirs. To his five nephews he left his swords,
with the injunction that they were "not to unsheath them for the purpose
of shedding blood, except it be in self-defense, or in defense of their
country and its rights; and in the latter case to keep them unsheathed,
and prefer falling with them in their hands to the relinquishment
thereof."
Washington's life is an open book. He knew that he was making history,
and he kept careful copies of all his most important letters and
writings, so that it is impossible that there should be doubts on any
very important point. So jealous was he of his own honorable reputation,
that his last act as President was to file a denial of the authenticity
of some spurious letters which were attributed to him by his political
enemies. These letters were first published during the Revolution by the
English, and purported to be written by Washington to Lund Washington,
to Mrs. Washington, and to John Parke Custis. The person who wrote them
knew something of Washington's private affairs, but he made the American
general say things which represented him as opposed to the independence
of the colonies. It was asserted that Washington in his retreat from New
York left his servant Billy behind, and that these papers were found in
a handbag which the valet carried. As it was well known in the army that
Billy had never been captured, Washington did not then think it needful
to deny having written these letters; but when they were brought forward
again by his enemies during the last years of his Presidency, he was
alarmed lest they should go down to history as his own. Most of
Washington's writings which are preserved show him to us only as a grave
public character, and lives of Washington drawn mainly from this source
are apt to make the great man seem unnaturally cold, dignified, remote,
and impressive. So usual has this view of Washington become, that there
is a common belief that he never laughed aloud--a belief which there are
many stories to refute.
Washington had immense physical courage. In all the battles in which he
fought he exposed himself fearlessly. His moral courage was even
greater. He never shrank from doing what he thought right because it was
likely to make him unpopular. Perhaps Washington's greatest qualities
were his wisdom and prudence. These traits were very important in the
leader of a young people engaged in a revolutionary struggle. He had few
brilliant military successes, but it is impossible to say what he might
not have done had he not been weighed down by immense difficulties. His
influence over men was great, and those who were under him loved him. He
was never swayed by mean motives, his actions were always honorable, and
he was generous even to those who were his bitter opponents. Though he
was a man of action, he thought deeply on many subjects. "Never," said
Jefferson, "did nature and fortune combine more perfectly to make a man
great, and to place him in the same constellation with whatever worthies
have merited from man an everlasting remembrance."
FOOTNOTES:
[17] "The Story of Washington." D. Appleton & Co., 1893.
* * * * *
THE MOUNT VERNON TRIBUTE[18]
WASHINGTON
The Defender of His Country, The Founder of Liberty,
THE FRIEND OF MAN.
History and Tradition are Explored in Vain for a Parallel
to His Character.
IN THE ANNALS OF MODERN GREATNESS, HE STANDS ALONE,
And the Noblest Names of Antiquity Lose Their Lustre
In His Presence. Born the Benefactor of Mankind, He
United All The Qualities Necessary to An Illustrious
Career.
NATURE MADE HIM GREAT;
He made himself virtuous.
Called By His Country To The Defence of Her Liberties,
He Triumphantly Vindicated The Rights of Humanity,
And on The Pillars of National Independence Laid the
Foundations Of A Great Republic. Twice Invested With
the Supreme Magistracy, By the Unanimous Voice of a
Free People, He Surpassed In The Cabinet
THE GLORIES OF THE FIELD,
And Voluntarily Resigning the Sceptre and the Sword,
Retired to the Shades of Private Life. A Spectacle So
New and So Sublime Was Contemplated With the Profoundest
Admiration; And the Name of
WASHINGTON,
Adding New Lustre to Humanity,
Resounded To The Remotest Regions Of the Earth.
Magnanimous in Youth,
GLORIOUS THROUGH LIFE,
GREAT IN DEATH,
His Highest Ambition the Happiness of Mankind,
His Noblest Victory the Conquest of Himself,
Bequeathing to Posterity the Inheritance of His Fame,
_And Building His Monument in the Hearts of His
Countrymen,_
He Lived the Ornament Of the Eighteenth Century, and
Died Regretted By a Mourning World.
FOOTNOTES:
[18] The author of this inscription is not known. It has been
transcribed from a manuscript copy written on the back of a
picture-frame, in which is set a miniature likeness of Washington, and
which hangs in one of the rooms of the mansion at Mount Vernon, where it
was left some time after Washington's death.--H.B. CARRINGTON.
* * * * *
THE WORDS OF WASHINGTON
BY DANIEL WEBSTER
_Delivered at the laying of the cornerstone of the new wing of the
Capitol at Washington, July 4, 1851_
Washington! Methinks I see his venerable form now before me. He is
dignified and grave; but concern and anxiety seem to soften the
lineaments of his countenance. The government over which he presides is
yet in the crisis of experiment. Not free from troubles at home, he sees
the world in commotion and arms all around him. He sees that imposing
foreign powers are half disposed to try the strength of the recently
established American Government. Mighty thoughts, mingled with fears as
well as with hopes, are struggling within him. He heads a short
procession over these then naked fields; he crosses yonder stream on a
fallen tree; he ascends to the top of this eminence, whose original oaks
of the forest stand as thick around him as if the spot had been devoted
to Druidical worship, and here he performs the appointed duty of the
day.
And now, if this vision were a reality; if Washington now were actually
amongst us, and if he could draw around him the shades of the great
public men of his own day, patriots and warriors, orators and statesmen,
and were to address us in their presence, would he not say to us:
"Ye men of this generation, I rejoice and thank God for being able to
see that our labors, and toils, and sacrifices, were not in vain. You
are prosperous, you are happy, you are grateful. The fire of liberty
burns brightly and steadily in your hearts, while duty and the law
restrain it from bursting forth in wild and destructive conflagration.
Cherish liberty, as you love it; cherish its securities, as you wish to
preserve it. Maintain the Constitution which we labored so painfully to
establish, and which has been to you such a source of inestimable
blessings. Preserve the Union of the States, cemented as it was by our
prayers, our tears, and our blood. Be true to God, to your country, and
to your duty. So shall the whole Eastern world follow the morning sun,
so contemplate you as a nation; so shall all generations honor you, as
they honor us; and so shall that Almighty power which so graciously
protected us, and which now protects you, shower its everlasting
blessings upon you and your posterity!"
Great Father of your Country! We need your words; we feel their force,
as if you now uttered them with lips of flesh and blood. Your example
teaches us, your affectionate addresses teach us, your public life
teaches us, your sense of the value of the blessings of the Union. Those
blessings our fathers have tasted, and we have tasted, and still taste.
Nor do we intend that those who come after us shall be denied the same
high function. Our honor, as well as our happiness, is concerned. We
cannot, we dare not, we will not, betray our sacred trust. We will not
filch from posterity the treasure placed in our hands to be transmitted
to other generations. The bow that gilds the clouds in the heavens, the
pillars that uphold the firmament, may disappear and fall away in the
hour appointed by the will of God; but, until that day comes, or so long
as our lives may last, no ruthless hand shall undermine that bright arch
of Union and Liberty which spans the continent from Washington to
California!
VI
TRIBUTES
MEMORIALS OF WASHINGTON[19]
BY HENRY B. CARRINGTON
Modern history, oratory, and poetry are so replete with tributes to the
memory of Washington, that the entire progress of the civilized world
for more than a century has been shaped by the influence of his life and
precepts. The memorial shaft at the national capital, which is the
loftiest of human structures, and is inner-faced by typical expressions
of honor from nearly all nations, is a fit type of his surmounting
merit. The ceremonies which attended the cornerstone consecration and
signalized its completion are no less an honor to the distinguished
historian and statesman who voiced the acclamations of the American
people than a perpetual testimonial worthy of the subject honored by the
occasion and by the monument. When the world pays willing tribute, and
the most ambitious monarch on earth would covet no higher plaudit than
that he served his people as faithfully as Washington served America, it
is difficult to fathom the depths of memorial sentiment and place in
public view those which are the most worthy of study and appreciative
respect. The national life itself throbs through his transmitted life,
and the aroma of his grace is as consciously breathed by statesmen and
citizens to-day as the invisible atmosphere which secures physical
vitality and force. Senator Vance of North Carolina, thus earnestly
commends to the youth of America the brightness and beauty of the great
example:
Greater soldiers, more intellectual statesmen, and profounder sages
have doubtless existed in the history of the English race, perhaps
in our own country, but not one who to great excellence in the
threefold composition of man, the physical, intellectual, and
moral, has added such exalted integrity, such unaffected piety,
such unsullied purity of soul, and such wondrous control of his own
spirit. He illustrated and adorned the civilization of
Christianity, and furnished an example of the wisdom and perfection
of its teachings which the subtlest arguments of its enemies cannot
impeach. That one grand, rounded life, full-orbed with intellectual
and moral glory, is worth, as the product of Christianity, more
than all the dogmas of all the teachers. The youth of America who
aspire to promote their own and their country's welfare should
never cease to gaze upon his great example, or to remember that the
brightest gems in the crown of his immortality, the qualities which
uphold his fame on earth and plead for him in heaven, were those
which characterized him as the patient, brave, Christian gentleman.
In this respect he was a blessing to the whole human race no less
than to his own countrymen, to the many millions who annually
celebrate the day of his birth.