from Van Braam in these earlier years, and in 1756 he paid to Sergeant
Wood, fencing-master, the sum of £1.1.6. When he received the offer of
a position on Braddock’s staff, he acknowledged, in accepting, that “I
must be ingenuous enough to confess, that I am not a little biassed by
selfish considerations. To explain, Sir, I wish earnestly to attain
some knowledge in the military profession, and, believing a more
favorable opportunity cannot offer, than to serve under a gentleman of
General Braddock’s abilities and experience, it does … not a little
contribute to influence my choice.” Hamilton is quoted as saying that
Washington “never read any book upon the art of war but Sim’s Military
Guide,” and an anonymous author asserted that “he never read a book in
the art of war of higher value than Bland’s Exercises.” Certain it is
that nearly all the military knowledge he possessed was derived from
practice rather than from books, and though, late in life, he purchased
a number of works on the subject, it was after his army service was
over.
One factor in Washington’s education which must not go unnoticed was
his religious belief. When only two months old he was baptized,
presumably by the Rev. Lawrence De Butts, the clergyman of Washington
parish. The removal from that locality prevented any further religious
influence from this clergyman, and it probably first came from the Rev.
Charles Green, of Truro parish, who had received his appointment
through the friendship of Washington’s father, and who later was on
such friendly terms with Washington that he doctored Mrs. Washington in
an attack of the measles, and caught and returned two of his
parishioner’s runaway slaves. As early as 1724 the clergyman of the
parish in which Mount Vernon was situated reported that he catechised
the youth of his congregation “in Lent and a great part of the Summer,”
and George, as the son of one of his vestrymen, undoubtedly received a
due amount of questioning.
From 1748 till 1759 there was little church-going for the young
surveyor or soldier, but after his marriage and settling at Mount
Vernon he was elected vestryman in the two parishes of Truro and
Fairfax, and from that election he was quite active in church affairs.
It may be worth noting that in the elections of 1765 the new vestryman
stood third in popularity in the Truro church and fifth in that of
Fairfax. He drew the plans for a new church in Truro, and subscribed to
its building, intending “to lay the foundation of a family pew,” but by
a vote of the vestry it was decided that there should be no private
pews, and this breach of contract angered Washington so greatly that he
withdrew from the church in 1773. Sparks quotes Madison to the effect
that “there was a tradition that, when he [Washington] belonged to the
vestry of a church in his neighborhood, and several little difficulties
grew out of some division of the society, he sometimes spoke with great
force, animation, and eloquence on the topics that came before them.”
After this withdrawal he bought a pew in Christ Church in Alexandria
(Fairfax parish), paying £36.10, which was the largest price paid by
any parishioner. To this church he was quite liberal, subscribing
several times towards repairs, etc.
The Rev. Lee Massey, who was rector at Pohick (Truro) Church before the
Revolution, is quoted by Bishop Meade as saying that
“I never knew so constant an attendant in church as Washington. And his
behavior in the house of God was ever so deeply reverential that it
produced the happiest effect on my congregation, and greatly assisted
me in my pulpit labors. No company ever withheld him from church. I
have often been at Mount Vernon on Sabbath morning, when his breakfast
table was filled with guests; but to him they furnished no pretext for
neglecting his God and losing the satisfaction of setting a good
example. For instead of staying at home, out of false complaisance to
them, he used constantly to invite them to accompany him.”
This seems to have been written more with an eye to its influence on
others than to its strict accuracy. During the time Washington attended
at Pohick Church he was by no means a regular church-goer. His daily
“where and how my time is spent” enables us to know exactly how often
he attended church, and in the year 1760 he went just sixteen times,
and in 1768 he went fourteen, these years being fairly typical of the
period 1760-1773. During the Presidency a sense of duty made him attend
St Paul’s and Christ churches while in New York and Philadelphia, but
at Mount Vernon, when the public eye was not upon him, he was no more
regular than he had always been, and in the last year of his life he
wrote, “Six days do I labor, or, in other words, take exercise and
devote my time to various occupations in Husbandry, and about my
mansion. On the seventh, now called the first day, for want of a place
of Worship (within less than nine miles) such letters as do not require
immediate acknowledgment I give answers to…. But it hath so happened,
that on the two last Sundays—call them the first or the seventh as you
please, I have been unable to perform the latter duty on account of
visits from Strangers, with whom I could not use the freedom to leave
alone, or recommend to the care of each other, for their amusement.”
What he said here was more or less typical of his whole life. Sunday
was always the day on which he wrote his private letters,—even prepared
his invoices,—and he wrote to one of his overseers that his letters
should be mailed so as to reach him Saturday, as by so doing they could
be answered the following day. Nor did he limit himself to this, for he
entertained company, closed land purchases, sold wheat, and, while a
Virginia planter, went foxhunting, on Sunday. It is to be noted,
however, that he considered the scruples of others as to the day. When
he went among his western tenants, rent-collecting, he entered in his
diary that, it “being Sunday and the People living on my Land
_apparently_ very religious, it was thought best to postpone going
among them till to-morrow,” and in his journey through New England,
because it was “contrary to the law and disagreeable to the People of
this State (Connecticut) to travel on the Sabbath day—and my horses,
after passing through such intolerable roads, wanting rest, I stayed at
Perkins’ tavern (which, by the bye, is not a good one) all day—and a
meetinghouse being within a few rods of the door, I attended the
morning and evening services, and heard very lame discourses from a Mr.
Pond.” It is of this experience that tradition says the President
started to travel, but was promptly arrested by a Connecticut
tithing-man. The story, however, lacks authentication.
There can be no doubt that religious intolerance was not a part of
Washington’s character. In 1775, when the New England troops intended
to celebrate Guy Fawkes day, as usual, the General Orders declared that
“as the Commander in chief has been apprised of a design, formed for
the observance of that ridiculous and childish custom of burning the
effigy of the Pope, he cannot help expressing his surprise, that there
should be officers and soldiers in this army so void of common sense,
as not to see the impropriety of such a step.” When trying to secure
some servants, too, he wrote that “if they are good workmen, they may
be from Asia, Africa, or Europe; they may be Mahometans, Jews, or
Christians of any sect, or they may be Atheists.” When the bill taxing
all the people of Virginia to support the Episcopal Church (his own)
was under discussion, he threw his weight against it, as far as
concerned the taxing of other sectaries, but adding:
“Although no man’s sentiments are more opposed to any kind of restraint
upon religious principles than mine are, yet I must confess, that I am
not amongst the number of those, who are so much alarmed at the
thoughts of making people pay towards the support of that which they
profess, if of the denomination, of Christians, or to declare
themselves Jews, Mahometans, or otherwise, and thereby obtain proper
relief. As the matter now stands, I wish an assessment had never been
agitated, and as it has gone so far, that the bill could die an easy
death; because I think it will be productive of more quiet to the
State, than by enacting it into a law, which in my opinion would be
impolitic, admitting there is a decided majority for it, to the
disquiet of a respectable minority. In the former case, the matter will
soon subside; in the latter, it will rankle and perhaps convulse the
State.”
Again in a letter he says,—
“Of all the animosities which have existed among mankind, those which
are caused by difference of sentiments in religion appear to be the
most inveterate and distressing, and ought most to be deprecated. I was
in hopes, that the lightened and liberal policy, which has marked the
present age, would at least have reconciled _Christians_ of every
denomination so far, that we should never again see their religious
disputes carried to such a pitch as to endanger the peace of society.”
And to Lafayette, alluding to the proceedings of the Assembly of
Notables, he wrote,—
“I am not less ardent in my wish, that you may succeed in your plan of
toleration in religious matters. Being no bigot myself, I am disposed
to indulge the professors of Christianity in the church with that road
to Heaven, which to them shall seem the most direct, plainest, easiest,
and least liable to exception.”
What Washington believed has been a source of much dispute. Jefferson
states “that Gouverneur Morris, who pretended to be in his secrets, and
believed himself to be so, has often told me that General Washington
believed no more of that system than he himself did,” and Morris, it is
scarcely necessary to state, was an atheist. The same authority quotes
Rush, to the effect that “when the clergy addressed General Washington
on his departure from the government, it was observed in their
consultation, that he had never, on any occasion, said a word to the
public which showed a belief in the Christian religion, and they
thought they should so pen their address, as to force him at length to
declare publicly whether he was a Christian or not They did so. But, he
observed, the old fox was too cunning for them. He answered every
article of their address particularly except that, which he passed over
without notice.”
Whatever his belief, in all public ways Washington threw his influence
in favor of religion, and kept what he really believed a secret, and in
only one thing did he disclose his real thoughts. It is asserted that
before the Revolution he partook of the sacrament, but this is only
affirmed by hearsay, and better evidence contradicts it. After that war
he did not, it is certain. Nelly Custis states that on “communion
Sundays he left the church with me, after the blessing, and returned
home, and we sent the carriage back for my grandmother.” And the
assistant minister of Christ Church in Philadelphia states that—
“Observing that on Sacrament Sundays, Gen’l Washington, immediately
after the Desk and Pulpit services, went out with the greater part of
the congregation, always leaving Mrs. Washington with the communicants,
she _invariably_ being one, I considered it my duty, in a sermon on
Public Worship, to state the unhappy tendency of _example_,
particularly those in elevated stations, who invariably turned their
backs upon the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. I acknowledge the
remark was intended for the President, as such, he received it. A few
days after, in conversation with, I believe, a Senator of the U.S. he
told me he had dined the day before with the President, who in the
course of the conversation at the table, said, that on the preceding
Sunday, he had received a very just reproof from the pulpit, for always
leaving the church before the administration of the Sacrament; that he
honored the preacher for his integrity and candour; that he had never
considered the influence of his example; that he would never again give
cause for the repetition of the reproof; and that, as he had never been
a communicant, were he to become one then, it would be imputed to an
ostentatious display of religious zeal arising altogether from his
elevated station. Accordingly he afterwards never came on the morning
of Sacrament Sunday, tho’ at other times, a constant attendant in the
morning.”
Nelly Custis, too, tells us that Washington always “stood during the
devotional part of the service,” and Bishop White states that “his
behavior was always serious and attentive; but, as your letter seems to
intend an inquiry on the point of kneeling during the service, I owe it
to the truth to declare, that I never saw him in the said attitude.”
Probably his true position is described by Madison, who is quoted as
saying that he did “not suppose that Washington had ever attended to
the arguments for Christianity, and for the different systems of
religion, or in fact that he had formed definite opinions on the
subject. But he took these things as he found them existing, and was
constant in his observances of worship according to the received forms
of the Episcopal Church, in which he was brought up.”
If there was proof needed that it is mind and not education which
pushes a man to the front, it is to be found in the case of Washington.
Despite his want of education, he had, so Bell states, “an excellent
understanding.” Patrick Henry is quoted as saying of the members of the
Congress of 1774— the body of which Adams claimed that “every man in it
is a great man, an orator, a critic, a statesman”—that “if you speak of
solid information and sound judgment Colonel Washington is
unquestionably the greatest man on the floor;” while Jefferson asserted
that “his mind was great and powerful, without being of the very first
order; his penetration strong, though not so acute as that of a Newton,
Bacon, or Locke; and as far as he saw, no judgment was ever sounder. It
was slow in operation, being little aided by invention or imagination,
but sure in conclusion.”
IV
RELATIONS WITH THE FAIR SEX
The book from which Washington derived almost the whole of his
education warned its readers,—
“Young Men have ever more a special care
That Womanish Allurements prove not a snare;”
but, however carefully the lad studied the rest, this particular
admonition took little root in his mind. There can be no doubt that
Washington during the whole of his life had a soft heart for women, and
especially for good-looking ones, and both in his personal intercourse
and in his letters he shows himself very much more at ease with them
than in his relations with his own sex. Late in life, when the strong
passions of his earlier years were under better control, he was able to
write,—
“Love is said to be an involuntary passion, and it is, therefore,
contended that it cannot be resisted. This is true in part only, for
like all things else, when nourished and supplied plentifully with
aliment, it is rapid in its progress; but let these be withdrawn and it
may be stifled in its birth or much stinted in its growth. For example,
a woman (the same may be said of the other sex) all beautiful and
accomplished will, while her hand and heart are undisposed of, turn the
heads and set the circle in which she moves on fire. Let her marry, and
what is the consequence? The madness _ceases_ and all is quiet again.
Why? not because there is any diminution in the charms of the lady, but
because there is an end of hope. Hence it follows, that love may and
therefore ought to be under the guidance of reason, for although we
cannot avoid first impressions, we may assuredly place them under
guard.”
To write thus in one’s sixty-sixth year and to practise one’s theory in
youth were, however, very different undertakings. Even while discussing
love so philosophically, the writer had to acknowledge that “in the
composition of the human frame, there is a good deal of inflammable
matter,” and few have had better cause to know it. When he saw in the
premature engagement of his ward, Jack Custis, the one advantage that
it would “in a great measure avoid those little flirtations with other
young ladies that may, by dividing the attention, contribute not a
little to divide the affection,” it is easy to think of him as looking
back to his own boyhood, and remembering, it is to be hoped with a
smile, the sufferings he owed to pretty faces and neatly turned ankles.
While still a school-boy, Washington was one day caught “romping with
one of the largest girls,” and very quickly more serious likings
followed. As early as 1748, when only sixteen years of age, his heart
was so engaged that while at Lord Fairfax’s and enjoying the society of
Mary Cary he poured out his feelings to his youthful correspondents
“Dear Robin” and “Dear John” and “Dear Sally” as follows:
“My place of Residence is at present at His Lordships where I might was
my heart disengag’d pass my time very pleasantly as theres a very
agreeable Young Lady Lives in the same house (Colo George Fairfax’s
Wife’s Sister) but as thats only adding Fuel to fire it makes me the
more uneasy for by often and unavoidably being in Company with her
revives my former Passion for your Low Land Beauty whereas was I to
live more retired from young Women I might in some measure eliviate my
sorrows by burying that chast and troublesome Passion in the grave of
oblivion or etarnall forgetfulness for as I am very well assured thats
the only antidote or remedy that I shall be releivd by or only recess
that can administer any cure or help to me as I am well convinced was I
ever to attempt any thing I should only get a denial which would be
only adding grief to uneasiness.”
“Was my affections disengaged I might perhaps form some pleasure in the
conversation of an agreeable Young Lady as theres one now Lives in the
same house with me but as that is only nourishment to my former affecn
for by often seeing her brings the other into my remembrance whereas
perhaps was she not often & (unavoidably) presenting herself to my view
I might in some measure aliviate my sorrows by burying the other in the
grave of Oblivion I am well convinced my heart stands in defiance of
all others but only she thats given it cause enough to dread a second
assault and from a different Quarter tho’ I well know let it have as
many attacks as it will from others they cant be more fierce than it
has been.”
“I Pass the time of[f] much more agreeabler than what I imagined I
should as there’s a very agrewable Young Lady lives in the same house
where I reside (Colo George Fairfax’s Wife’s Sister) that in a great
Measure cheats my thoughts altogether from your Parts I could wish to
be with you down there with all my heart but as it is a thing almost
Impractakable shall rest myself where I am with hopes of shortly having
some Minutes of your transactions in your Parts which will be very
welcomely receiv’d.”
Who this “Low Land Beauty” was has been the source of much speculation,
but the question is still unsolved, every suggested damsel—Lucy Grymes,
Mary Bland, Betsy Fauntleroy, _et al._—being either impossible or the
evidence wholly inadequate. But in the same journal which contains the
draughts of these letters is a motto poem—
“Twas Perfect Love before
But Now I do adore”—
followed by the words “Young M.A. his W[ife?],” and as it was a fashion
of the time to couple the initials of one’s well-beloved with such
sentiments, a slight clue is possibly furnished. Nor was this the only
rhyme that his emotions led to his inscribing in his journal: and he
confided to it the following:
“Oh Ye Gods why should my Poor Resistless Heart
Stand to oppose thy might and Power
At Last surrender to cupids feather’d Dart
And now lays Bleeding every Hour
For her that’s Pityless of my grief and Woes
And will not on me Pity take
He sleep amongst my most inveterate Foes
And with gladness never wish to wake
In deluding sleepings let my Eyelids close
That in an enraptured Dream I may
In a soft lulling sleep and gentle repose
Possess those joys denied by Day.”
However woe-begone the young lover was, he does not seem to have been
wholly lost to others of the sex, and at this same time he was able to
indite an acrostic to another charmer, which, if incomplete,
nevertheless proves that there was a “midland” beauty as well, the lady
being presumptively some member of the family of Alexanders, who had a
plantation near Mount Vernon.
“From your bright sparkling Eyes I was undone;
Rays, you have; more transperent than the Sun.
Amidst its glory in the rising Day
None can you equal in your bright array;
Constant in your calm and unspotted Mind;
Equal to all, but will to none Prove kind,
So knowing, seldom one so Young, you’l Find.
Ah! woe’s me, that I should Love and conceal
Long have I wish’d, but never dare reveal,
Even though severely Loves Pains I feel;
Xerxes that great, was’t free from Cupids Dart,
And all the greatest Heroes, felt the smart.”
When visiting Barbadoes, in 1751, Washington noted in his journal his
meeting a Miss Roberts, “an agreeable young lady,” and later he went
with her to see some fireworks on Guy Fawkes day. Apparently, however,
the ladies of that island made little impression on him, for he further
noted, “The Ladys Generally are very agreeable but by ill custom or
w[ha]t effect the Negro style.” This sudden insensibility is explained
by a letter he wrote to William Fauntleroy a few weeks after his return
to Virginia:
“Sir: I should have been down long before this, but my business in
Frederick detained me somewhat longer than I expected, and immediately
upon my return from thence I was taken with a violent Pleurise, but
purpose as soon as I recover my strength, to wait on Miss Betsy, in
hopes of a revocation of the former cruel sentence, and see if I can
meet with any alteration in my favor. I have enclosed a letter to her,
which should be much obliged to you for the delivery of it. I have
nothing to add but my best respects to your good lady and family, and
that I am, Sir, Your most ob’t humble serv’t.”
Because of this letter it has been positively asserted that Betsy
Fauntleroy was the Low-Land Beauty of the earlier time; but as
Washington wrote of his love for the latter in 1748, when Betsy was
only eleven, the absurdity of the claim is obvious.
In 1753, while on his mission to deliver the governor’s letter to the
French, one duty which fell to the young soldier was a visit to
royalty, in the person of Queen Aliquippa, an Indian majesty who had
“expressed great Concern” that she had formerly been slighted.
Washington records that “I made her a Present of a Match-coat and a
Bottle of Rum; which latter was thought much the best Present of the
Two,” and thus (externally and internally) restored warmth to her
majesty’s feelings.
When returned from his first campaign, and resting at Mount Vernon, the
time seems to have been beguiled by some charmer, for one of
Washington’s officers and intimates writes from Williamsburg, “I
imagine you By this time plung’d in the midst of delight heaven can
afford & enchanted By Charmes even Stranger to the Ciprian Dame,” and a
footnote by the same hand only excites further curiosity concerning
this latter personage by indefinitely naming her as “Mrs. Neil.”
With whatever heart-affairs the winter was passed, with the spring the
young man’s fancy turned not to love, but again to war, and only when
the defeat of Braddock brought Washington back to Mount Vernon to
recover from the fatigues of that campaign was his intercourse with the
gentler sex resumed. Now, however, he was not merely a good-looking
young fellow, but was a hero who had had horses shot from under him and
had stood firm when scarlet-coated men had run away. No longer did he
have to sue for the favor of the fair ones, and Fairfax wrote him that
“if a Satterday Nights Rest cannot be sufficient to enable your coming
hither to-morrow, the Lady’s will try to get Horses to equip our Chair
or attempt their strength on Foot to Salute you, so desirous are they
with loving Speed to have an occular Demonstration of your being the
same Identical Gent—that lately departed to defend his Country’s
Cause.” Furthermore, to this letter was appended the following:
“DEAR SIR,—After thanking Heaven for your safe return I must accuse you
of great unkindness in refusing us the pleasure of seeing you this
night. I do assure you nothing but our being satisfied that our company
would be disagreeable should prevent us from trying if our Legs would
not carry us to Mount Vernon this night, but if you will not come to us
to-morrow morning very early we shall be at Mount Vernon.
“S[ALLY] FAIRFAX,
“ANN SPEARING.
“ELIZ’TH DENT.”
Nor is this the only feminine postscript of this time, for in the
postscript of a letter from Archibald Cary, a leading Virginian, he is
told that “Mrs. Cary & Miss Randolph joyn in wishing you that sort of
Glory which will most Indear you to the Fair Sex.”
In 1756 Washington had occasion to journey on military business to
Boston, and both in coming and in going he tarried in New York, passing
ten days in his first visit and about a week on his return. This time
was spent with a Virginian friend, Beverly Robinson, who had had the
good luck to marry Susannah Philipse, a daughter of Frederick Philipse,
one of the largest landed proprietors of the colony of New York. Here
he met the sister, Mary Philipse, then a girl of twenty-five, and,
short as was the time, it was sufficient to engage his heart. To this
interest no doubt are due the entries in his accounts of sundry pounds
spent “for treating Ladies,” and for the large tailors’ bills then
incurred. But neither treats nor clothes won the lady, who declined his
proposals, and gave her heart two years later to Lieutenant-Colonel
Roger Morris. A curious sequel to this disappointment was the accident
that made the Roger Morris house Washington’s head-quarters in 1776,
both Morris and his wife being fugitive Tories. Again Washington was a
chance visitor in 1790, when, as part of a picnic, he “dined on a
dinner provided by Mr. Marriner at the House lately Colo. Roger Morris,
but confiscated and in the occupation of a common Farmer.”
[Illustration: MARY PHILIPSE]
It has been asserted that Washington loved the wife of his friend
George William Fairfax, but the evidence has not been produced. On the
contrary, though the two corresponded, it was in a purely platonic
fashion, very different from the strain of lovers, and that the
correspondence implied nothing is to be found in the fact that he and
Sally Carlyle (another Fairfax daughter) also wrote each other quite as
frequently and on the same friendly footing; indeed, Washington
evidently classed them in the same category, when he stated that “I
have wrote to my two female correspondents.” Thus the claim seems due,
like many another of Washington’s mythical love-affairs, rather to the
desire of descendants to link their family “to a star” than to more
substantial basis. Washington did, indeed, write to Sally Fairfax from
the frontier, “I should think our time more agreeably spent, believe
me, in playing a part in Cato, with the company you mention, and myself
doubly happy in being the Juba to such a Marcia, as you must make,” but
private theatricals then no more than now implied “passionate love.”
What is more, Mrs. Fairfax was at this very time teasing him about
another woman, and to her hints Washington replied,—
“If you allow that any honor can be derived from my opposition … you
destroy the merit of it entirely in me by attributing my anxiety to the
animating prospect of possessing Mrs. Custis, when—I need not tell you,
guess yourself. Should not my own Honor and country’s welfare be the
excitement? ’Tis true I profess myself a votary of love. I acknowledge
that a lady is in the case, and further I confess that this lady is
known to you. Yes, Madame, as well as she is to one who is too sensible
of her charms to deny the Power whose influence he feels and must ever
submit to. I feel the force of her amiable beauties in the recollection
of a thousand tender passages that I could wish to obliterate, till I
am bid to revive them. But experience, alas! sadly reminds me how
impossible this is, and evinces an opinion which I have long
entertained that there is a Destiny which has the control of our
actions, not to be resisted by the strongest efforts of Human Nature.
You have drawn me, dear Madame, or rather I have drawn myself, into an
honest confession of a simple Fact. Misconstrue not my meaning; doubt
it not, nor expose it. The world has no business to know the object of
my Love, declared in this manner to you, when I want to conceal it. One
thing above all things in this world I wish to know, and only one
person of your acquaintance can solve me that, or guess my meaning.”
The love-affair thus alluded to had begun in March, 1758, when ill
health had taken Washington to Williamsburg to consult physicians,
thinking, indeed, of himself as a doomed man. In this trip he met Mrs.
Martha (Dandridge) Custis, widow of Daniel Parke Custis, one of the
wealthiest planters of the colony. She was at this time twenty-six
years of age, or Washington’s senior by nine months, and had been a
widow but seven, yet in spite of this fact, and of his own expected
“decay,” he pressed his love-making with an impetuosity akin to that
with which he had urged his suit of Miss Philipse, and (widows being
proverbial) with better success. The invalid had left Mount Vernon on
March 5, and by April 1 he was back at Fort Loudon, an engaged man,
having as well so far recovered his health as to be able to join his
command. Early in May he ordered a ring from Philadelphia, at a cost of
£2.16.0; soon after receiving it he found that army affairs once more
called him down to Williamsburg, and, as love-making is generally
considered a military duty, the excuse was sufficient. But sterner
duties on the frontier were awaiting him, and very quickly he was back
there and writing to his _fiancée_,—
“We have begun our march for the Ohio. A courier is starting for
Williamsburg, and I embrace the opportunity to send a few words to one
whose life is now inseparable from mine. Since that happy hour when we
made our pledges to each other, my thoughts have been continually going
to you as another Self. That an all-powerful Providence may keep us
both in safety is the prayer of your ever faithful and affectionate
friend.”
Five months after this letter was written, Washington was able to date
another from Fort Duquesne, and, the fall of that post putting an end
to his military service, only four weeks later he was back in
Williamsburg, and on January 6, 1759, he was married.
Very little is really known of his wife, beyond the facts that she was
petite, over-fond, hot-tempered, obstinate, and a poor speller. In 1778
she was described as “a sociable, pretty kind of woman,” and she seems
to have been but little more. One who knew her well described her as
“not possessing much sense, though a perfect lady and remarkably well
calculated for her position,” and confirmatory of this is the opinion
of an English traveller that “there was nothing remarkable in the
person of the lady of the President; she was matronly and kind, with
perfect good breeding.” None the less she satisfied Washington; even
after the proverbial six months were over he refused to wander from
Mount Vernon, writing that “I am now, I believe, fixed at this seat
with an agreeable Consort for life,” and in 1783 he spoke of her as the
“partner of all my Domestic enjoyments.”
John Adams, in one of his recurrent moods of bitterness and jealousy
towards Washington, demanded, “Would Washington have ever been
commander of the revolutionary army or president of the United States
if he had not married the rich widow of Mr. Custis?” To ask such a
question is to overlook the fact that Washington’s colonial military
fame was entirely achieved before his marriage. It is not to be denied
that the match was a good one from a worldly point of view, Mrs.
Washington’s third of the Custis property equalling “fifteen thousand
acres of land, a good part of it adjoining the city of Williamsburg;
several lots in the said city; between two and three hundred negroes;
and about eight or ten thousand pounds upon bond,” estimated at the
time as about twenty thousand pounds in all, which was further
increased on the death of Patsy Custis in 1773 by a half of her
fortune, which added ten thousand pounds to the sum. Nevertheless the
advantage was fairly equal, for Mrs. Custis’s lawyer had written before
her marriage of the impossibility of her managing the property,
advising that she “employ a trusty steward, and as the estate is large
and very extensive, it is Mr. Wallers and my own opinion, that you had
better not engage any but a very able man, though he should require
large wages.” Of the management of this property, to which, indeed, she
was unequal, Washington entirely relieved her, taking charge also of
her children’s share and acting for their interests with the same care
with which he managed the part he was more directly concerned in.
He further saved her much of the detail of ordering her own clothing,
and we find him sending for “A Salmon-colored Tabby of the enclosed
pattern, with satin flowers, to be made in a sack,” “1 Cap,
Handkerchief, Tucker and Ruffles, to be made of Brussels lace or point,
proper to wear with the above negligee, to cost £20,” “1 pair black,
and 1 pair white Satin Shoes, of the smallest,” and “1 black mask.”
Again he writes his London agent, “Mrs. Washington sends home a green
sack to get cleaned, or fresh dyed of the same color; made up into a
handsome sack again, would be her choice; but if the cloth won’t afford
that, then to be thrown into a genteel Night Gown.” At another time he
wants a pair of clogs, and when the wrong kind are sent he writes that
“she intended to have leathern Gloshoes.” When she was asked to present
a pair of colors to a company, he attended to every detail of obtaining
the flag, and when “Mrs. Washington … perceived the Tomb of her Father
… to be much out of Sorts” he wrote to get a workman to repair it. The
care of the Mount Vernon household proving beyond his wife’s ability, a
housekeeper was very quickly engaged, and when one who filled this
position was on the point of leaving, Washington wrote his agent to
find another without the least delay, for the vacancy would “throw a
great additional weight on Mrs. Washington;” again, writing in another
domestic difficulty, “Your aunt’s distresses for want of a good
housekeeper are such as to render the wages demanded by Mrs. Forbes
(though unusually high) of no consideration.” Her letters of form,
which required better orthography than she was mistress of, he
draughted for her, pen-weary though he was.
It has already been shown how he fathered her “little progeny,” as he
once called them. Mrs. Washington was a worrying mother, as is shown by
a letter to her sister, speaking of a visit in which “I carried my
little patt with me and left Jacky at home for a trial to see how well
I could stay without him though we were gon but wone fortnight I was
quite impatient to get home. If I at aney time heard the doggs barke or
a noise out, I thought thair was a person sent for me. I often fancied
he was sick or some accident had happened to him so that I think it is
impossible for me to leave him as long as Mr. Washington must stay when
he comes down.” To spare her anxiety, therefore, when the time came for
“Jacky” to be inoculated, Washington “withheld from her the information
… & purpose, if possible, to keep her in total ignorance … till I hear
of his return, or perfect recovery;… she having often wished that Jack
wou’d take & go through the disorder without her knowing of it, that
she might escape those Tortures which suspense wd throw her into.” And
on the death of Patsy he wrote, “This sudden and unexpected blow, I
scarce need add has almost reduced my poor Wife to the lowest ebb of
Misery; which is encreas’d by the absence of her son.”
When Washington left Mount Vernon, in May, 1775, to attend the
Continental Congress, he did not foresee his appointment as
commander-in-chief, and as soon as it occurred he wrote his wife,—
“I am now set down to write to you on a subject, which fills me with
inexpressible concern, and this concern is greatly aggravated and
increased, when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give you.
It has been determined in Congress, that the whole army raised for the
defence of the American cause shall be put under my care, and that it
is necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me
the command of it.
“You may believe me, my dear Patsey, when I assure you, in the most
solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used
every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness
to part with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its being
a trust too great for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real
happiness in one month with you at home, than I have the most distant
prospect of finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven
years…. I shall feel no pain from the toil or danger of the campaign;
my unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you will feel from
being left alone.”
To prevent this loneliness as far as possible, he wrote at the same
time to different members of the two families as follows:
“My great concern upon this occasion is, the thought of leaving your
mother under the uneasiness which I fear this affair will throw her
into; I therefore hope, expect, and indeed have no doubt, of your using
every means in your power to keep up her spirits, by doing everything
in your power to promote her quiet. I have, I must confess, very uneasy
feelings on her account, but as it has been a kind of unavoidable
necessity which has led me into this appointment, I shall more readily
hope that success will attend it and crown our meetings with
happiness.”
“I entreat you and Mrs. Bassett if possible to visit at Mt. Vernon, as
also my wife’s other friends. I could wish you to take her down, as I
have no expectation of returning till winter & feel great uneasiness at
her lonesome situation.”
“I shall hope that my friends will visit and endeavor to keep up the
spirits of my wife, as much as they can, as my departure will, I know,
be a cutting stroke upon her; and on this account alone I have many
very disagreeable sensations. I hope you and my sister, (although the
distance is great), will find as much leisure this summer as to spend a
little time at Mount Vernon.”
When, six months later, the war at Boston settled into a mere siege,
Washington wrote that “seeing no prospect of returning to my family and
friends this winter, I have sent an invitation to Mrs. Washington to
come to me,” adding, “I have laid a state of difficulties, however,
which must attend the journey before her, and left it to her own
choice.” His wife replied in the affirmative, and one of Washington’s
aides presently wrote concerning some prize goods to the effect that
“There are limes, lemons and oranges on board, which, being perishable,
you must sell immediately. The General will want some of each, as well
of the sweetmeats and pickles that are on board, as his lady will be
here to-day or to-morrow. You will please to pick up such things on
board as you think will be acceptable to her, and send them as soon as
possible; he does not mean to receive anything without payment.”
Lodged at head-quarters, then the Craigie house in Cambridge, the
discomforts of war were reduced to a minimum, but none the less it was
a trying time to Mrs. Washington, who complained that she could not get
used to the distant cannonading, and she marvelled that those about her
paid so little heed to it. With the opening of the campaign in the
following summer she returned to Mount Vernon, but when the army was
safely in winter quarters at Valley Forge she once more journeyed
northward, a trip alluded to by Washington in a letter to Jack, as
follows: “Your Mamma is not yet arrived, but … expected every hour. [My
aide] Meade set off yesterday (as soon as I got notice of her
intention) to meet her. We are in a dreary kind of place, and
uncomfortably provided.” And of this reunion Mrs. Washington wrote, “I
came to this place, some time about the first of February where I found
the General very well,… in camp in what is called the great valley on
the Banks of the Schuylkill. Officers and men are chiefly in Hutts,
which they say is tolerably comfortable; the army are as healthy as can
be well expected in general. The General’s apartment is very small; he
has had a log cabin built to dine in, which has made our quarters much
more tolerable than they were at first”
Such “winterings” became the regular custom, and brief references in
various letters serve to illustrate them. Thus, in 1779, Washington
informed a friend that “Mrs. Washington, according to custom marched
home when the campaign was about to open;” in July, 1782, he noted that
his wife “sets out this day for Mount Vernon,” and later in the same
year he wrote, “as I despair of seeing my home this Winter, I have sent
for Mrs. Washington;” and finally, in a letter he draughted for his
wife, he made her describe herself as “a kind of perambulator, during
eight or nine years of the war.”
Another pleasant glimpse during these stormy years is the couple,
during a brief stay in Philadelphia, being entertained almost to death,
described as follows by Franklin’s daughter in a letter to her father:
“I have lately been several times abroad with the General and Mrs.
Washington. He always inquires after you in the most affectionate
manner, and speaks of you highly. We danced at Mrs. Powell’s your
birthday, or night I should say, in company together, and he told me it
was the anniversary of his marriage; it was just twenty years that
night” Again there was junketing in Philadelphia after the surrender at
Yorktown, and one bit of this is shadowed in a line from Washington to
Robert Morris, telling the latter that “Mrs. Washington, myself and
family, will have the honor of dining with you in the way proposed,
to-morrow, being Christmas day.”
With the retirement to Mount Vernon at the close of the war, little
more companionship was obtained, for, as already stated, Washington
could only describe his home henceforth as a “well resorted tavern,”
and two years after his return he entered in his diary, “Dined with
only Mrs. Washington which I believe is the first instance of it since
my retirement from public life.”
Even this was only a furlough, for in six years they were both in
public life again. Mrs. Washington was inclined to sulk over the
necessary restraints of official life, writing to a friend, “Mrs. Sins
will give you a better account of the fashions than I can—I live a very
dull life hear and know nothing that passes in the town—I never goe to
any public place—indeed I think I am more like a State prisoner than
anything else; there is certain bounds set for me which I must not
depart from—and as I cannot doe as I like, I am obstinate and stay at
home a great deal.”
[Illustration: MRS. DANIEL PARKE CUSTIS, LATER MRS. WASHINGTON]
None the less she did her duties well, and in these “Lady Washington”
was more at home, for, according to Thacher, she combined “in an
uncommon degree, great dignity of manner with most pleasing
affability,” though possessing “no striking marks of beauty,” and there
is no doubt that she lightened Washington’s shoulders of social demands
materially. At the receptions of Mrs. Washington, which were held every
Friday evening, so a contemporary states, “the President did not
consider himself as visited. On these occasions he appeared as a
private gentleman, with neither hat nor sword, conversing without
restraint.”
From other formal society Mrs. Washington also saved her husband, for a
visitor on New Year’s tells of her setting “‘the General’ (by which
title she always designated her husband)” at liberty: “Mrs. Washington
had stood by his side as the visitors arrived and were presented, and
when the clock in the hall was heard striking nine, she advanced and
with a complacent smile said, ‘The General always retires at nine, and
I usually precede him,’ upon which all arose, made their parting
salutations, and withdrew.” Nor was it only from the fatigues of formal
entertaining that the wife saved her husband, Washington writing in
1793, “We remain in Philadelphia until the 10th instant. It was my wish
to have continued there longer; but as Mrs. Washington was unwilling to
leave me surrounded by the malignant fever which prevailed, I could not
think of hazarding her, and the Children any longer by _my_ continuance
in the City, the house in which we live being in a manner blockaded by
the disorder, and was becoming every day more and more fatal; I
therefore came off with them.”
Finally from these “scenes more busy, tho’ not more happy, than the
tranquil enjoyment of rural life,” they returned to Mount Vernon,
hoping that in the latter their “days will close.” Not quite three
years of this life brought an end to their forty years of married life.
On the night that Washington’s illness first became serious his
secretary narrates that “Between 2 and 3 o’clk on Saturday morning he
[Washington] awoke Mrs. Washington & told her he was very unwell, and
had had an ague. She … would have got up to call a servant; but he
would not permit her lest she should take cold.” As a consequence of
this care for her, her husband lay for nearly four hours in a chill in
a cold bedroom before receiving any attention, or before even a fire
was lighted. When death came, she said, “Tis well—All is now over—I
have no more trials to pass through—I shall soon follow him.” In his
will he left “to my dearly beloved wife” the use of his whole property,
and named her an executrix.
As a man’s views of matrimony are more or less colored by his personal
experience, what Washington had to say on the institution is of
interest. As concerned himself he wrote to his nephew, “If Mrs.
Washington should survive me, there is a moral certainty of my dying
without issue: and should I be the longest liver, the matter in my
opinion, is hardly less certain; for while I retain the faculty of
reasoning, I shall never marry a girl; and it is not probable that I
should have children by a woman of an age suitable to my own, should I
be disposed to enter into a second marriage.” And in a less personal
sense he wrote to Chastellux,—
“In reading your very friendly and acceptable letter,… I was, as you
may well suppose, not less delighted than surprised to meet the plain
American words, ‘my wife.’ A wife! Well, my dear Marquis, I can hardly
refrain from smiling to find you are caught at last. I saw, by the
eulogium you often made on the happiness of domestic life in America,
that you had swallowed the bait, and that you would as surely be taken,
one day or another, as that you were a philosopher and a soldier. So
your day has at length come. I am glad of it, with all my heart and
soul. It is quite good enough for you. Now you are well served for
coming to fight in favor of the American rebels, all the way across the
Atlantic Ocean, by catching that terrible contagion—domestic
felicity—which same, like the small pox or the plague, a man can have
only once in his life; because it commonly lasts him (at least with us
in America—I don’t know how you manage these matters in France) for his
whole life time. And yet after all the maledictions you so richly merit
on the subject, the worst wish which I can find in my heart to make
against Madame de Chastellux and yourself is, that you may neither of
you ever get the better of this same domestic felicity during the
entire course of your mortal existence.”
Furthermore, he wrote to an old friend, whose wife stubbornly refused
to sign a deed, “I think, any Gentleman, possessed of but a very
moderate degree of influence with his wife, might, in the course of
five or six years (for I think it is at least that time) have prevailed
upon her to do an act of justice, in fulfiling his Bargains and
complying with his wishes, if he had been really in earnest in
requesting the matter of her; especially, as the inducement which you
thought would have a powerful operation on Mrs. Alexander, namely the
birth of a child, has been doubled, and tripled.”
However well Washington thought of “the honorable state,” he was no
match-maker, and when asked to give advice to the widow of Jack Custis,
replied, “I never did, nor do I believe I ever shall, give advice to a
woman, who is setting out on a matrimonial voyage; first, because I
never could advise one to marry without her own consent; and, secondly
because I know it is to no purpose to advise her to refrain, when she
has obtained it. A woman very rarely asks an opinion or requires advice
on such an occasion, till her resolution is formed; and then it is with
the hope and expectation of obtaining a sanction, not that she means to
be governed by your disapprobation, that she applies. In a word the
plain English of the application may be summed up in these words: ‘I
wish you to think as I do; but, if unhappily you differ from me in
opinion, my heart, I must confess, is fixed, and I have gone too far
now to retract.’” Again he wrote:
“It has ever been a maxim with me through life, neither to promote nor
to prevent a matrimonial connection, unless there should be something
indispensably requiring interference in the latter. I have always
considered marriage as the most interesting event of one’s life, the
foundation of happiness or misery. To be instrumental therefore in
bringing two people together, who are indifferent to each other, and
may soon become objects of disgust; or to prevent a union, which is
prompted by the affections of the mind, is what I never could reconcile
with reason, and therefore neither directly nor indirectly have I ever
said a word to Fanny or George, upon the subject of their intended
connection.”
The question whether Washington was a faithful husband might well be
left to the facts already given, were it not that stories of his
immorality are bandied about in clubs, a well-known clergyman has
vouched for their truth, and a United States senator has given further
currency to them by claiming special knowledge on the subject. Since
such are the facts, it seems best to consider the question and show
what evidence there actually is for these stories, that at least the
pretended “letters,” etc., which are always being cited, and are never
produced, may no longer have credence put in them, and the true basis
for all the stories may be known and valued at its worth.
In the year 1776 there was printed in London a small pamphlet entitled
“Minutes of the Trial and Examination of Certain Persons in the
Province of New York,” which purported to be the records of the
examination of the conspirators of the “Hickey plot” (to murder
Washington) before a committee of the Provincial Congress of New York.
The manuscript of this was claimed in the preface to have been
“discovered (on the late capture of New York by the British troops)
among the papers of a person who appears to have been secretary to the
committee.” As part of the evidence the following was printed:
“William Cooper, soldier, sworn.
“Court. Inform us what conversation you heard at the Serjeant’s Arms?
“Cooper. Being there the 21st of May, I heard John Clayford inform the
company, that Mary Gibbons was thoroughly in their interest, and that
the whole would be safe. I learnt from enquiry that Mary Gibbons was a
girl from New Jersey, of whom General Washington was very fond, that he
maintained her genteelly at a house near Mr. Skinner’s,—at the North
River; that he came there very often late at night in disguise; he
learnt also that this woman was very intimate with Clayford, and made
him presents, and told him of what General Washington said.
“Court. Did you hear Mr. Clayford say any thing himself that night?
“Cooper. Yes; that he was the day before with Judith, so he called her,
and that she told him, Washington had often said he wished his hands
were clear of the dirty New-Englanders, and words to that effect.
“Court. Did you hear no mention made of any scheme to betray or seize
him?
“Cooper. Mr. Clayford said he could easily be seized and put on board a
boat, and carried off, as his female friend had promised she would
assist: but all present thought it would be hazardous.”
“William Savage, sworn.
“Court. Was you at the Serjeant’s Arms on the 21st of May? Did you hear
any thing of this nature?
“Savage. I did, and nearly as the last evidence has declared; the
society in general refused to be concerned in it, and thought it a mad
scheme.
“Mr. Abeel. Pray, Mr. Savage, have not you heard nothing of an
information that was to be given to Governor Tryon?
“Savage. Yes; papers and letters were at different times shewn to the
society, which were taken out of General Washington’s pockets by Mrs.
Gibbons, and given (as she pretended some occasion of going out) to Mr.
Clayford, who always copied them, and they were put into his pockets
again.”
The authenticity of this pamphlet thus becomes of importance, and over
this little time need be spent. The committee named in it differs from
the committee really named by the Provincial Congress, and the
proceedings nowhere implicate the men actually proved guilty. In other
words, the whole publication is a clumsy Tory forgery, put forward with
the same idle story of “captured papers” employed in the “spurious
letters” of Washington, and sent forth from the same press (J. Bew)
from which that forgery and several others issued.
The source from which the English fabricator drew this scandal is
fortunately known. In 1775 a letter to Washington from his friend
Benjamin Harrison was intercepted by the British, and at once printed
broadcast in the newspapers. In this the writer gossips to Washington
“to amuse you and unbend your minds from the cares of war,” as follows:
“As I was in the pleasing task of writing to you, a little noise
occasioned me to turn my head around, and who should appear but pretty
little Kate, the Washer-woman’s daughter over the way, clean, trim and
as rosy as the morning. I snatched the golden, glorious opportunity,
and, but for the cursed antidote to love, Sukey, I had fitted her for
my general against his return. We were obliged to part, but not till we
had contrived to meet again: if she keeps the appointment, I shall
relish a week’s longer stay.” From this originated the stories of
Washington’s infidelity as already given, and also a coarser version of
the same, printed in 1776 in a Tory farce entitled “The Battle of
Brooklyn.”
Jonathan Boucher, who knew Washington well before the Revolution, yet
who, as a loyalist, wrote in no friendly spirit of him, asserted that
“in his moral character, he is regular.” A man who disliked him far
more, General Charles Lee, in the excess of his hatred, charged
Washington in 1778 with immorality,—a rather amusing impeachment, since
at the very time Lee was flaunting the evidence of his own incontinence
without apparent shame,—and a mutual friend of the accused and accuser,
Joseph Reed, whose service on Washington’s staff enabled him to speak
wittingly, advised that Lee “forbear any Reflections upon the Commander
in Chief, of whom for the first time I have heard Slander on his
private Character, viz., great cruelty to his Slaves in Virginia &
Immorality of Life, tho’ they acknowledge so very secret that it is
difficult to detect. To me who have had so good opportunities to know
the Purity of the latter & equally believing the Falsehood of the
former from the known excellence of his disposition, it appears so
nearly bordering upon frenzy, that I can pity the wretches rather than
despise them.”
Washington was too much of a man, however, to have his marriage lessen
his liking for other women; and Yeates repeats that “Mr. Washington
once told me, on a charge which I once made against the President at
his own Table, that the admiration he warmly professed for Mrs.
Hartley, was a Proof of his Homage to the worthy Part of the Sex, and
highly respectful to his Wife.” Every now and then there is an allusion
in his letters which shows his appreciation of beauty, as when he wrote
to General Schuyler, “Your fair daughter, for whose visit Mrs.
Washington and myself are greatly obliged,” and again, to one of his
aides, “The fair hand, to whom your letter … was committed presented it
safe.”
His diary, in the notes of the balls and assemblies which he attended,
usually had a word for the sex, as exampled in: “at which there were
between 60 & 70 well dressed ladies;” “at which there was about 100
well dressed and handsome ladies;” “at which were 256 elegantly dressed
ladies;” “where there was a select Company of ladies;” “where (it is
said) there were upwards of 100 ladies; their appearance was elegant,
and many of them very handsome;” “at wch. there were about 400 ladies
the number and appearance of wch. exceeded anything of the kind I have
ever seen;” “where there were about 75 well dressed, and many of them
very handsome ladies—among whom (as was also the case at the Salem and
Boston assemblies) were a greater proportion with much blacker hair
than are usually seen in the Southern States.”
At his wife’s receptions, as already said, Washington did not view
himself as host, and “conversed without restraint, generally with
women, who rarely had other opportunity of seeing him,” which perhaps
accounts for the statement of another eye-witness that Washington
“looked very much more at ease than at his own official levees.”
Sullivan adds that “the young ladies used to throng around him, and
engaged him in conversation. There were some of the well-remembered
belles of the day who imagined themselves to be favorites with him. As
these were the only opportunities which they had of conversing with
him, they were disposed to use them.” In his Southern trip of 1791
Washington noted, with evident pleasure, that he “was visited about 2
o’clock, by a great number of the most respectable ladies of
Charleston—the first honor of the kind I had ever experienced and it
was flattering as it was singular.” And that this attention was not
merely the respect due to a great man is shown in the letter of a
Virginian woman, who wrote to her correspondent in 1777, that when
“General Washington throws off the Hero and takes up the chatty
agreeable Companion—he can be down right impudent sometimes—such
impudence, Fanny, as you and I like.”
Another feminine compliment paid him was a highly laudatory poem which
was enclosed to him, with a letter begging forgiveness, to which he
playfully answered,—
“You apply to me, my dear Madam, for absolution as tho’ I was your
father Confessor; and as tho’ you had committed a crime, great in
itself, yet of the venial class. You have reason good—for I find myself
strangely disposed to be a very indulgent ghostly adviser on this
occasion; and, notwithstanding ‘you are the most offending Soul alive’
(that is, if it is a crime to write elegant Poetry,) yet if you will
come and dine with me on Thursday, and go thro’ the proper course of
penitence which shall be prescribed I will strive hard to assist you in
expiating these poetical trespasses on this side of purgatory. Nay
more, if it rests with me to direct your future lucubrations, I shall
certainly urge you to a repetition of the same conduct, on purpose to
shew what an admirable knack you have at confession and reformation;
and so without more hesitation, I shall venture to command the muse,
not to be restrained by ill-grounded timidity, but to go on and
prosper. You see, Madam, when once the woman has tempted us, and we
have tasted the forbidden fruit, there is no such thing as checking our
appetites, whatever the consequences may be. You will, I dare say,
recognize our being the genuine Descendants of those who are reputed to
be our great Progenitors.”
Nor was Washington open only to beauty and flattery. From the rude
frontier in 1756 he wrote, “The supplicating tears of the women,… melt
me into such deadly sorrow, that I solemnly declare, if I know my own
mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy,
provided that would contribute to the people’s ease.” And in 1776 he
said, “When I consider that the city of New York will in all human
probability very soon be the scene of a bloody conflict, I cannot but
view the great numbers of women, children, and infirm persons remaining
in it, with the most melancholy concern. When the men-of-war passed up
the river, the shrieks and cries of these poor creatures running every
way with their children, were truly distressing…. Can no method be
devised for their removal?”
Nevertheless, though liked by and liking the fair sex, Washington was
human, and after experience concluded that “I never again will have two
women in my house when I am there myself.”
V
FARMER AND PROPRIETOR
The earliest known Washington coat of arms had blazoned upon it “3
Cinque foiles,” which was the herald’s way of saying that the bearer
was a landholder and cultivator, and when Washington had a book-plate
made for himself he added to the conventional design of the arms spears
of wheat and other plants, as an indication of his favorite labor.
During his career he acted several parts, but in none did he find such
pleasure as in farming, and late in life he said, “I think with you,
that the life of a husbandman of all others is the most delectable. It
is honorable, it is amusing, and, with judicious management, it is
profitable. To see plants rise from the earth and flourish by the
superior skill and bounty of the laborer fills a contemplative mind
with ideas which are more easy to be conceived than expressed.”
“Agriculture has ever been the most favorite amusement of my life,” he
wrote after the Revolution, and he informed another correspondent that
“the more I am acquainted with agricultural affairs, the better pleased
I am with them; insomuch, that I can no where find so great
satisfaction as in those innocent and useful pursuits: In indulging
these feelings, I am led to reflect how much more delightful to an
undebauched mind is the task of making improvements on the earth, than
all the vain glory which can be acquired from ravaging it, by the most
uninterrupted career of conquests.” A visitor to Mount Vernon in 1785
states that his host’s “greatest pride is, to be thought the first
farmer in America. He is quite a Cincinnatus.”
Undoubtedly a part of this liking flowed from his strong affection for
Mount Vernon. Such was his feeling for the place that he never seems to
have been entirely happy away from it, and over and over again, during
his various and enforced absences, he “sighs” or “pants” for his “own
vine and fig tree.” In writing to an English correspondent, he shows
his feeling for the place by saying, “No estate in United America, is
more pleasantly situated than this. It lies in a high, dry and healthy
country, three hundred miles by water from the sea, and, as you will
see by the plan, on one of the finest rivers in the world.”
The history of the Mount Vernon estate begins in 1674, when Lord
Culpepper conveyed to Nicholas Spencer and Lieutenant-Colonel John
Washington five thousand acres of land “scytuate Lying and being within
the said terrytory in the County of Stafford in the ffreshes of the
Pottomocke River and … bounded betwixt two Creeks.” Colonel John’s half
was bequeathed to his son Lawrence, and by Lawrence’s will it was left
to his daughter Mildred. She sold it to the father of George, who by
his will left it to his son Lawrence, with a reversion to George should
Lawrence die without issue. The original house was built about 1740,
and the place was named Mount Vernon by Lawrence, in honor of Admiral
Vernon, under whom he had served at Carthagena. After the death of
Lawrence, the estate of twenty-five hundred acres came under
Washington’s management, and from 1754 it was his home, as it had been
practically even in his brother’s life.
Twice Washington materially enlarged the house at Mount Vernon, the
first time in 1760 and the second in 1785, and a visitor reports, what
his host must have told him, that “its a pity he did not build a new
one at once, for it has cost him nearly as much to repair his old one.”
These alterations consisted in the addition of a banquet-hall at one
end (by far the finest room in the house), and a library and
dining-room at the other, with the addition of an entire story to the
whole.
The grounds, too, were very much improved. A fine approach, or bowling
green, was laid out, a “botanical garden,” a “shrubbery,” and
greenhouses were added, and in every way possible the place was
improved. A deer paddock was laid out and stocked, gifts of Chinese
pheasants and geese, French partridges, and guinea-pigs were sent him,
and were gratefully acknowledged, and from all the world over came
curious, useful, or beautiful plants.
The original tract did not satisfy the ambition of the farmer, and from
the time he came into the possession of Mount Vernon he was a
persistent purchaser of lands adjoining the property. In 1760 he
bargained with one Clifton for “a tract called Brents,” of eighteen
hundred and six acres, but after the agreement was closed the seller,
“under pretence of his wife not consenting to acknowledge her right of
dower wanted to disengage himself … and by his shuffling behavior
convinced me of his being the trifling body represented.” Presently
Washington heard that Clifton had sold his lands to another for twelve
hundred pounds, which “fully unravelled his conduct … and convinced me
that he was nothing less than a thorough pac’d rascall.” Meeting the
“rascall” at a court, “much discourse,” Washington states, “happened
between him and I concerning his ungenerous treatment of me, the whole
turning to little account, ’tis not worth reciting.” After much more
friction, the land was finally sold at public auction, and “I bought it
for £1210 Sterling, [and] under many threats and disadvantages paid the
money.”
[Illustration: WASHINGTON’S SURVEY OF MOUNT VERNON, CIRCA 1746]
In 1778, when some other land was offered, Washington wrote to his
agent, “I have premised these things to shew my inability, not my
unwillingness to purchase the Lands in my own Neck at (almost) any
price—& this I am very desirous of doing if it could be accomplished by
any means in my power, in ye way of Barter for other Land—for Negroes …
or in short—for any thing else … but for money I cannot, I want the
means.” Again, in 1782, he wrote, “Inform Mr. Dulany,… that I look upon
£2000 to be a great price for his land; that my wishes to obtain it do
not proceed from its intrinsic value, but from the motives I have
candidly assigned in my other letter. That to indulge this fancy, (for
in truth there is more fancy than judgment in it) I have submitted, or
am willing to submit, to the disadvantage of borrowing as large a sum
as I think this Land is worth, in order to come at it”
By thus purchasing whenever an opportunity occurred, the property was
increased from the twenty-five hundred acres which had come into
Washington’s possession by inheritance to an estate exceeding eight
thousand acres, of which over thirty-two hundred were actually under
cultivation during the latter part of its owner’s life.
To manage so vast a tract, the property was subdivided into several
tracts, called “Mansion House Farm,” “River Farm,” “Union Farm,” “Muddy
Hole Farm,” and “Dogue Run Farm,” each having an overseer to manage it,
and each being operated as a separate plantation, though a general
overseer controlled the whole, and each farm derived common benefit
from the property as a whole. “On Saturday in the afternoon, every
week, reports are made by all his overseers, and registered in books
kept for the purpose,” and these accounts were so schemed as to show
how every negro’s and laborer’s time had been employed during the whole
week, what crops had been planted or gathered, what increase or loss of
stock had occurred, and every other detail of farm-work. During
Washington’s absences from Mount Vernon his chief overseer sent him
these reports, as well as wrote himself, and weekly the manager
received in return long letters of instruction, sometimes to the length
of sixteen pages, which showed most wonderful familiarity with every
acre of the estate and the character of every laborer, and are little
short of marvellous when account is taken of the pressure of public
affairs that rested upon their writer as he framed them.
When Washington became a farmer, but one system of agriculture, so far
as Virginia was concerned, existed, which he described long after as
follows:
“A piece of land is cut down, and kept under constant cultivation,
first in tobacco, and then in Indian corn (two very exhausting plants),
until it will yield scarcely any thing; a second piece is cleared, and
treated in the same manner; then a third and so on, until probably
there is but little more to clear. When this happens, the owner finds
himself reduced to the choice of one of three things—either to recover
the land which he has ruined, to accomplish which, he has perhaps
neither the skill, the industry, nor the means; or to retire beyond the
mountains; or to substitute quantity for quality, in order to raise
something. The latter has been generally adopted, and, with the
assistance of horses, he scratches over much ground, and seeds it, to
very little purpose.”
Knowing no better, Washington adopted this one-crop system, even to the
extent of buying corn and hogs to feed his hands. Though following in
the beaten track, he experimented in different kinds of tobacco, so
that, “by comparing then the loss of the one with the extra price of
the other, I shall be able to determine which is the best to pursue.”
The largest crop he ever seems to have produced, “being all
sweet-scented and neatly managed,” was one hundred and fifteen
hogsheads, which averaged in sale twelve pounds each.
From a very early time Washington had been a careful student of such
books on agriculture as he could obtain, even preparing lengthy
abstracts of them, and the knowledge he thus obtained, combined with
his own practical experience, soon convinced him that the Virginian
system was wrong. “I never ride on my plantations,” he wrote, “without
seeing something which makes me regret having continued so long in the
ruinous mode of farming, which we are in,” and he soon “discontinued
the growth of tobacco myself; [and] except at a plantation or two upon
York River, I make no more of that article than barely serves to
furnish me with goods.”
From this time (1765) “the whole of my force [was] in a manner confined
to the growth of wheat and manufacturing of it into flour,” and before
long he boasted that “the wheat from some of my plantations, by one
pair of steelyards, will weigh upwards of sixty pounds,… and better
wheat than I now have I do not expect to make.” After the Revolution he
claimed that “no wheat that has ever yet fallen under my observation
exceeds the wheat which some years ago I cultivated extensively but
which, from inattention during my absence of almost nine years from
home, has got so mixed or degenerated as scarcely to retain any of its
original characteristics properly.” In 1768 he was able to sell over
nineteen hundred bushels, and how greatly his product was increased
after this is shown by the fact that in this same year he sowed four
hundred and ninety bushels.
Still further study and experimentation led him to conclude that “my
countrymen are too much used to corn blades and corn shucks; and have
too little knowledge of the profit of grass lands,” and after his final
home-coming to Mount Vernon, he said, “I have had it in contemplation
ever since I returned home to turn my farms to grazing principally, as
fast as I can cover the fields sufficiently with grass. Labor and of
course expence will be considerably diminished by this change, the nett
profit as great and my attention less divided, whilst the fields will
be improving.” That this was only an abandonment of a “one crop” system
is shown by the fact that in 1792 he grew over five thousand bushels of
wheat, valued at four shillings the bushel, and in 1799 he said, “as a
farmer, wheat and flour are my principal concerns.” And though, in
abandoning the growth of tobacco, Washington also tried “to grow as
little Indian corn as may be,” yet in 1795 his crop was over sixteen
hundred barrels, and the quantity needed for his own negroes and stock
is shown in a year when his crop failed, which “obliged me to purchase
upwards of eight hundred barrels of corn.”
In connection with this change of system, Washington became an early
convert to the rotation of crops, and drew up elaborate tables
sometimes covering periods of five years, so that the quantity of each
crop should not vary, yet by which his fields should have constant
change. This system naturally very much diversified the product of his
estate, and flax, hay, clover, buckwheat, turnips, and potatoes became
large crops. The scale on which this was done is shown by the facts
that in one year he sowed twenty-seven bushels of flaxseed and planted
over three hundred bushels of potatoes.
Early and late Washington preached to his overseers the value of
fertilization; in one case, when looking for a new overseer, he said
the man must be, “above all, Midas like, one who can convert everything
he touches into manure, as the first transmutation towards gold;—in a
word one who can bring worn out and gullied Lands into good tilth in
the shortest time.” Equally emphatic was his urging of constant
ploughing and grubbing, and he even invented a deep soil plough, which
he used till he found a better one in the English Rotheran plough,
which he promptly imported, as he did all other improved farming tools
and machinery of which he could learn. To save his woodlands, and for
appearance’s sake, he insisted on live fences, though he had to
acknowledge that “no hedge, alone, will, I am persuaded, do for an
outer inclosure, where _two_ or four footed hogs find it convenient to
open passage.” In all things he was an experimentalist, carefully
trying different kinds of tobacco and wheat, various kinds of plants
for hedges, and various kinds of manure for fertilizers; he had tests
made to see whether he could sell his wheat to best advantage in the
grain or when made into flour, and he bred from selected horses,
cattle, and sheep. “In short I shall begrudge no reasonable expence
that will contribute to the improvement and neatness of my Farms;—for
nothing pleases me better than to see them in good order, and
everything trim, handsome, and thriving about them.”
The magnitude of the charge of such an estate can be better understood
when the condition of a Virginia plantation is realized. Before the
Revolution practically everything the plantation could not produce was
ordered yearly from Great Britain, and after the annual delivery of the
invoices the estate could look for little outside help. Nor did this
change rapidly after the Revolution, and during the period of
Washington’s management almost everything was bought in yearly
supplies. This system compelled each plantation to be a little world
unto itself; indeed, the three hundred souls on the Mount Vernon estate
went far to make it a distinct and self-supporting community, and one
of Washington’s standing orders to his overseers was to “buy nothing
you can make within yourselves.” Thus the planting and gathering of the
crops were but a small part of the work to be done.
A corps of workmen—some negroes, some indentured servants, and some
hired laborers—were kept on the estate. A blacksmith-shop occupied
some, doing not merely the work of the plantation, but whatever
business was brought to them from outside; and a wood-burner kept them
and the mansion-house supplied with charcoal. A gang of carpenters were
kept busy, and their spare time was utilized in framing houses to be
put up in Alexandria, or in the “Federal city,” as Washington was
called before the death of its namesake. A brick-maker, too, was kept
constantly employed, and masons utilized the product of his labor. The
gardener’s gang had charge of the kitchen-garden, and set out thousands
of grape-vines, fruit-trees, and hedge-plants.
A water-mill, with its staff, not merely ground meal for the hands, but
produced a fine flour that commanded extra price in the market In 1786
Washington asserted that his flour was “equal, I believe, in quality to
any made in this country,” and the Mount Vernon brand was of such value
that some money was made by buying outside wheat and grinding it into
flour. The coopers of the estate made the barrels in which it was
packed, and Washington’s schooner carried it to market.
The estate had its own shoemaker, and in time a staff of weavers was
trained. Before this was obtained, in 1760, though with only a modicum
of the force he presently had, Washington ordered from London “450 ells
of Osnabrig, 4 pieces of Brown Wools, 350 yards of Kendall Cotton, and
100 yards of Dutch blanket.” By 1768 he was manufacturing the chief
part of his requirements, for in that year his weavers produced eight
hundred and fifteen and three-quarter yards of linen, three hundred and
sixty-five and one-quarter yards of woollen, one hundred and forty-four
yards of linsey, and forty yards of cotton, or a total of thirteen
hundred and sixty-five and one-half yards, one man and five negro girls
having been employed. When once the looms were well organized an
infinite variety of cloths was produced, the accounts mentioning
“striped woollen, woolen plaided, cotton striped, linen, wool-birdseye,
cotton filled with wool, linsey, M.’s & O.’s, cotton-India dimity,
cotton jump stripe, linen filled with tow, cotton striped with silk,
Roman M., Janes twilled, huccabac, broadcloth, counterpain, birdseye
diaper, Kirsey wool, barragon, fustian, bed-ticking, herring-box, and
shalloon.”
One of the most important features of the estate was its fishery, for
the catch, salted down, largely served in place of meat for the
negroes’ food. Of this advantage Washington wrote, “This river,… is
well supplied with various kinds of fish at all seasons of the year;
and, in the spring, with the greatest profusion of shad, herrings,
bass, carp, perch, sturgeon, &c. Several valuable fisheries appertain
to the estate; the whole shore, in short, is one entire fishery.”
Whenever there was a run of fish, the seine was drawn, chiefly for
herring and shad, and in good years this not merely amply supplied the
home requirements, but allowed of sales; four or five shillings the
thousand for herring and ten shillings the hundred for shad were the
average prices, and sales of as high as eighty-five thousand herring
were made in a single year.
In 1795, when the United States passed an excise law, distilling became
particularly profitable, and a still was set up on the plantation. In
this whiskey was made from “Rye chiefly and Indian corn in a certain
proportion,” and this not merely used much of the estate’s product of
those two grains, but quantities were purchased from elsewhere. In 1798
the profit from the distillery was three hundred and forty-four pounds
twelve shillings and seven and three-quarter pence, with a stock
carried over of seven hundred and fifty-five and one-quarter gallons;
but this was the most successful year. Cider, too, was made in large
quantities.
A stud stable was from an early time maintained, and the Virginia
papers regularly advertised that the stud horse “Samson,” “Magnolia,”
“Leonidas,” “Traveller,” or whatever the reigning stallion of the
moment might be, would “cover” mares at Mount Vernon, with pasturage
and a guarantee of foal, if their owners so elected. During the
Revolution Washington bought twenty-seven of the army mares that had
been “worn-down so as to render it beneficial to the public to have
them sold,” not even objecting to those “low in flesh or even
crippled,” because “I have many large Farms and am improving a good
deal of Land into Meadow and Pasture, which cannot fail of being
profited by a number of Brood Mares.” In addition to the stud, there
were, in 1793, fifty-four draught horses on the estate.
A unique feature of this stud was the possession of two jackasses, of
which the history was curious. At that time there was a law in Spain
(where the best breed was to be found) which forbade the exportation of
asses, but the king, hearing of Washington’s wish to possess a jack,
sent him one of the finest obtainable as a present, which was promptly
christened “Royal Gift.” The sea-voyage and the change of climate,
however, so affected him that for a time he proved of little value to
his owner, except as a source of amusement, for Washington wrote
Lafayette, “The Jack I have already received from Spain in appearance
is fine, but his late Royal master, tho’ past his grand climacteric
cannot be less moved by female allurements than he is; or when
prompted, can proceed with more deliberation and majestic solemnity to
the work of procreation.” This reluctance to play his part Washington
concluded was a sign of aristocracy, and he wrote a nephew, “If Royal
Gift will administer, he shall be at the service of your Mares, but at
present he seems too full of Royalty, to have anything to do with a
plebeian Race,” and to Fitzhugh he said, “particular attention shall be
paid to the mares which your servant brought, and when my Jack is in
the humor, they shall derive all the benefit of his labor, for labor it
appears to be. At present tho’ young, he follows what may be supposed
to be the example of his late Royal Master, who can not, tho’ past his
grand climacteric, perform seldomer or with more majestic solemnity
than he does. However I am not without hope that when he becomes a
little better acquainted with republican enjoyment, he will amend his
manners, and fall into a better and more expeditious mode of doing
business.” This fortunately proved to be the case, and his master not
merely secured such mules as he needed for his own use, but gained from
him considerable profit by covering mares in the neighborhood. He even
sent him on a tour through the South, and Royal Gift passed a whole
winter in Charleston, South Carolina, with a resulting profit of six
hundred and seventy-eight dollars to his owner. In 1799 there were on
the estate “2 Covering Jacks & 3 young ones, 10 she asses, 42 working
mules and 15 younger ones.”
Of cattle there were in 1793 a total of three hundred and seventeen
head, including “a sufficiency of oxen broke to the yoke,” and a dairy
was operated separate from the farms, and some butter was made, but
Washington had occasion to say, “It is hoped, and will be expected,
that more effectual measures will be pursued to make butter another
year; for it is almost beyond belief, that from 101 cows actually
reported on a late enumeration of the cattle, that I am obliged to _buy
butter_ for the use of my family.”
Sheep were an unusual adjunct of a Virginia plantation, and of his
flock Washington wrote, “From the beginning of the year 1784 when I
returned from the army, until shearing time of 1788, I improved the
breed of my sheep so much by buying and selecting the best formed and
most promising Rams, and putting them to my best ewes, by keeping them
always well culled and clean, and by other attentions, that they
averaged me … rather over than under five pounds of washed wool each.”
In another letter he said, “I … was proud in being able to produce
perhaps the largest mutton and the greatest quantity of wool from my
sheep that could be produced. But I was not satisfied with this; and
contemplated further improvements both in the flesh and wool by the
introduction of other breeds, which I should by this time have carried
into effect, had I been permitted to pursue my favorite occupation.” In
1789, however, “I was again called from home, and have not had it in my
power since to pay any attention to my farms. The consequence of which
is, that my sheep at the last shearing, yielded me not more than 2-1/2”
pounds. In 1793 he had six hundred and thirty-four in his flock, from
which he obtained fourteen hundred and-fifty-seven pounds of fleece. Of
hogs he had “many,” but “as these run pretty much at large in the
woodland, the number is uncertain.” In 1799 his manager valued his
entire live-stock at seven thousand pounds.
A separate account was kept of each farm, and of many of these separate
departments, and whenever there was a surplus of any product an account
was opened to cover it. Thus in various years there are accounts raised
dealing with cattle, hay, flour, flax, cord-wood, shoats, fish,
whiskey, pork, etc., and his secretary, Shaw, told a visitor that the
“books were as regular as any merchant whatever.” It is proper to note,
however, that sometimes they would not balance, and twice at least
Washington could only force one, by entering “By cash supposed to be
paid away & not credited £17.6.2,” and “By cash lost, stolen or paid
away without charging £143.15.2.” All these accounts were tabulated at
the end of the year and the net results obtained. Those for a single
year are here given:
BALANCE OF GAIN AND LOSS, 1798.
_Dr. gained._
Dogue Run Farm 397.11.02 Union Farm 529.10.11½ River Farm 234.
4.11 Smith’s Shop 34.12.09½ Distillery 83.13.01 Jacks 56.01
Traveller (studhorse) 9.17 Shoemaker 28.17.01
Fishery 165.12.0¾ Dairy 30.12.03
_Cr. lost._
Mansion House 466.18.02½ Muddy Hole Farm 60.01.03½
Spinning 51.02.0 Hire of head-overseer 140.00.0
By Clear gain on the Estate £ 898.16.4¼
A pretty poor showing for an estate and negroes which had certainly
cost him over fifty thousand dollars, and on which there was livestock
which at the lowest estimation was worth fifteen thousand dollars more.
It is not strange that in 1793 Washington attempted to find tenants for
all but the Mansion farm. This he reserved for my “own residence,
occupation and amusement,” as Washington held that “idleness is
disreputable,” and in 1798 he told his chief overseer he did not choose
to “discontinue my rides or become a cipher on my own estate.”
When at Mount Vernon, as this indicated, Washington rode daily about
his estate, and he has left a pleasant description of his life
immediately after retiring from the Presidency: “I begin my diurnal
course with the sun;… if my hirelings are not in their places at that
time I send them messages expressive of my sorrow for their
indisposition;… having put these wheels in motion, I examine the state
of things further; and the more they are probed, the deeper I find the
wounds are which my buildings have sustained by my absence and neglect
of eight years; by the time I have accomplished these matters,
breakfast (a little after seven o’clock)… is ready;… this being over, I
mount my horse and ride round my farms, which employs me until it is
time to dress for dinner.” A visitor at this time is authority for the
statement that the master “often works with his men himself—strips off
his coat and labors like a common man. The General has a great turn for
mechanics. It’s astonishing with what niceness he directs everything in
the building way, condescending even to measure the things himself,
that all may be perfectly uniform.”
This personal attention Washington was able to give only with very
serious interruptions. From 1754 till 1759 he was most of the time on
the frontier; for nearly nine years his Revolutionary service separated
him absolutely from his property; and during the two terms of his
Presidency he had only brief and infrequent visits. Just one-half of
his forty-six years’ occupancy of Mount Vernon was given to public
service.
The result was that in 1757 he wrote, “I am so little acquainted with
the business relative to my private affairs that I can scarce give you
any information concerning it,” and this was hardly less true of the
whole period of his absences. In 1775 he engaged overseers to manage
his various estates in his absence “upon shares,” but during the whole
war the plantations barely supported themselves, even with depletion of
stock and fertility, and he was able to draw nothing from them. One
overseer, and a confederate, he wrote, “I believe, divided the profits
of my Estate on the York River, tolerably betwn. them, for the devil of
any thing do I get.” Well might he advise knowingly that “I have no
doubt myself but that middling land under a man’s own eyes, is more
profitable than rich land at a distance.” “No Virginia Estate (except a
very few under the best of management) can stand simple Interest,” he
declared, and went even further when he wrote, “the nature of a
Virginia Estate being such, that without close application, it never
fails bringing the proprietors in Debt annually.” “To speak within
bounds,” he said, “ten thousand pounds will not compensate the losses I
might have avoided by being at home, & attending a little to my own
concerns” during the Revolution.
Fortunately for the farmer, the Mount Vernon estate was but a small
part of his property. His father had left him a plantation of two
hundred and eighty acres on the Rappahannock, “one Moiety of my Land
lying on Deep Run,” three lots in Frederick “with all the houses and
Appurtenances thereto belonging,” and one quarter of the residuary
estate. While surveying for Lord Fairfax in 1748, as part of his
compensation Washington patented a tract of five hundred and fifty
acres in Frederick County, which he always spoke of as “My Bull-skin
plantation.”
As a military bounty in the French and Indian War the governor of
Virginia issued a proclamation granting Western lands to the soldiers,
and under this Washington not merely secured fifteen thousand acres in
his own right, but by buying the claims of some of his fellow officers
doubled that quantity. A further tract was also obtained under the
kindred proclamation of 1763, “5000 Acres of Land in my own right, & by
purchase from Captn. Roots, Posey, & some other officers, I obtained
rights to several thousand more.” In 1786, after sales, he had over
thirty thousand acres, which he then offered to sell at thirty thousand
guineas, and in 1799, when still more had been sold, his inventory
valued the holdings at nearly three hundred thousand dollars.
In addition, Washington was a partner in several great land
speculations,—the Ohio Company, the Walpole Grant, the Mississippi
Company, the Military Company of Adventures, and the Dismal Swamp
Company; but all these ventures except the last collapsed at the
beginning of the Revolution and proved valueless. His interest in the
Dismal Swamp Company he held at the time of his death, and it was
valued in the inventory at twenty thousand dollars.
The properties that came to him from his brother Lawrence and with his
wife have already been described. It may be worth noting that with the
widow of Lawrence there was a dispute over the will, but apparently it
was never carried into the courts, and that owing to the great
depreciation of paper money during the Revolution the Custis personal
property was materially lessened, for “I am now receiving a shilling in
the pound in discharge of Bonds which ought to have been paid me, &
would have been realized before I left Virginia, but for my indulgences
to the debtors,” Washington wrote, and in 1778 he said, “by the
comparitive worth of money, six or seven thousand pounds which I have
in Bonds upon Interest is now reduced to as many hundreds because I can
get no more for a thousand at this day than a hundred would have
fetched when I left Virginia, Bonds, debts, Rents, &c. undergoing no
change while the currency is depreciating in value and for ought I know
may in a little time be totally sunk.” Indeed, in 1781 he complained
“that I have totally neglected all my private concerns, which are
declining every day, and may, possibly, end in capital losses, if not
absolute ruin, before I am at liberty to look after them.”
In 1784 he became partner with George Clinton in some land purchases in
the State of New York with the expectation of buying the “mineral
springs at Saratoga; and … the Oriskany tract, on which Fort Schuyler
stands.” In this they were disappointed, but six thousand acres in the
Mohawk valley were obtained “amazingly cheap.” Washington’s share cost
him, including interest, eighteen hundred and seventy-five pounds, and
in 1793 two-thirds of the land had been sold for three thousand four
hundred pounds, and in his inventory of 1799 Washington valued what he
still held of the property at six thousand dollars.
In 1790, having inside information that the capital was to be removed
from New York to Philadelphia, Washington tried to purchase a farm near
that city, foreseeing a speedy rise in value. In this apparently he did
not succeed. Later he purchased lots in the new Federal city, and built
houses on two of them. He also had town lots in Williamsburg,
Alexandria, Winchester, and Bath. In addition to all this property
there were many smaller holdings. Much was sold or traded, yet when he
died, besides his wife’s real estate and the Mount Vernon property, he
possessed fifty-one thousand three hundred and ninety-five acres,
exclusive of town property. A contemporary said “that General
Washington is, perhaps, the greatest landholder in America.”
All these lands, except Mount Vernon, were, so far as possible, rented,
but the net income was not large. Rent agents were employed to look
after the tenants, but low rents, war, paper money, a shifting
population, and Washington’s dislike of lawsuits all tended to reduce
the receipts, and the landlord did not get simple interest on his
investments. Thus, in 1799 he complains of slow payments from tenants
in Washington and Lafayette Counties (Pennsylvania). Instead of an
expected six thousand dollars, due June 1, but seventeen hundred
dollars were received.
Income, however, had not been his object in loading himself with such a
vast property, as Washington believed that he was certain to become
rich. “For proof of” the rise of land, he wrote in 1767, “only look to
Frederick, [county] and see what fortunes were made by the … first
taking up of those lands. Nay, how the greatest estates we have in this
colony were made. Was it not by taking up and purchasing at very low
rates the rich back lands, which were thought nothing of in those days,
but are now the most valuable land we possess?”
In this he was correct, but in the mean time he was more or less
land-poor. To a friend in 1763 he wrote that the stocking and repairing
of his plantations “and other matters … swallowed up before I well knew
where I was, all the moneys I got by marriage, nay more, brought me in
debt” In 1775, replying to a request for a loan, he declared that “so
far am I from having £200 to lend … I would gladly borrow that sum
myself for a few months.” When offered land adjoining Mount Vernon for
three thousand pounds in 1778, he could only reply that it was “a sum I
have little chance, if I had inclination, to pay; & therefore would not
engage it, as I am resolved not to incumber myself with Debt.” In 1782,
to secure a much desired tract he was forced to borrow two thousand
pounds York currency at the rate of seven per cent.
In 1788, “the total loss of my crop last year by the drought” “with
necessary demands for cash” “have caused me much perplexity and given
me more uneasiness than I ever experienced before from want of money,”
and a year later, just before setting out to be inaugurated, he tried
to borrow five hundred pounds “to discharge what I owe” and to pay the
expenses of the journey to New York, but was “unable to obtain more
than half of it, (though it was not much I required), and this at an
advanced interest with other rigid conditions,” though at this time
“could I get in one fourth part of what is due me on Bonds” “without
the intervention of suits” there would have been ample funds. In 1795
the President said, “my friends entertain a very erroneous idea of my
particular resources, when they set me down for a money lender, or one
who (now) has a command of it. You may believe me when I assert that
the bonds which were due to me before the Revolution, were discharged
during the progress of it—with a few exceptions in depreciated paper
(in some instances as low as a shilling in the pound). That such has
been the management of the Estate, for many years past, especially
since my absence from home, now six years, as scarcely to support
itself. That my public allowance (whatever the world may think of it)
is inadequate to the expence of living in this City; to such an
extravagant height has the necessaries as well as the conveniences of
life arisen. And, moreover that to keep myself out of debt; I have
found it expedient now and then to sell Lands, or something else to
effect this purpose.”
[Illustration: LOTTERY TICKET SIGNED BY WASHINGTON]
As these extensive land ventures bespoke a national characteristic, so
a liking for other forms of speculation was innate in the great
American. During the Revolution he tried to secure an interest in a
privateer. One of his favorite flyers was chances in lotteries and
raffles, which, if now found only in association with church fairs,
were then not merely respectable, but even fashionable. In 1760 five
pounds and ten shillings were invested in one lottery. Five pounds
purchased five tickets in Strother’s lottery in 1763. Three years later
six pounds were risked in the York lottery and produced prizes to the
extent of sixteen pounds. Fifty pounds were put into Colonel Byrd’s
lottery in 1769, and drew a half-acre lot in the town of Manchester,
but out of this Washington was defrauded. In 1791 John Potts was paid
four pounds and four shillings “in part for 20 Lottery tickets in the
Alexa. street Lottery at 6/ each, 14 Dollrs. the Bal. was discharged by
2.3 Lotr prizes.” Twenty tickets of Peregrine and Fitzhugh’s lottery
cost one hundred and eighty-eight dollars in 1794. And these are but
samples of innumerable instances. So, too, in raffles, the entries are
constant,—“for glasses 20/,” “for a Necklace £1.,” “by profit & loss in
two chances in raffling for Encyclopadia Britannica, which I did not
win £1.4,” two tickets were taken in the raffle of Mrs. Dawson’s coach,
as were chances for a pair of silver buckles, for a watch, and for a
gun; such and many others were smaller ventures Washington took.
There were other sources of income or loss besides. Before the
Revolution he had a good sized holding of Bank of England stock, and an
annuity in the funds, besides considerable property on bond, the larger
part of which, as already noted, was liquidated in depreciated paper
money. This paper money was for the most part put into United States
securities, and eventually the “at least £10,000 Virginia money” proved
to be worth six thousand two hundred and forty-six dollars in
government six per cents and three per cents. A great believer in the
Potomac Canal Company, Washington invested twenty-four hundred pounds
sterling in the stock, which produced no income, and in time showed a
heavy shrinkage. Another and smaller loss was an investment in the
James River Canal Company. Stock holdings in the Bank of Columbia and
in the Bank of Alexandria proved profitable investments.
None the less Washington was a successful businessman. Though his
property rarely produced a net income, and though he served the public
with practically no profit (except as regards bounty lands), and thus
was compelled frequently to dip into his capital to pay current
expenses, yet, from being a surveyor only too glad to earn a doubloon
(seven dollars and forty cents) a day, he grew steadily in wealth, and
when he died his property, exclusive of his wife’s and the Mount Vernon
estate, was valued at five hundred and thirty thousand dollars. This
made him one of the wealthiest Americans of his time, and it is to be
questioned if a fortune was ever more honestly acquired or more
thoroughly deserved.
VI
MASTER AND EMPLOYER
In his “rules of civility” Washington enjoined that “those of high
Degree ought to treat” “Artificers & Persons of low Degree” “with
affibility & Courtesie, without Arrogancy,” and it was a needed lesson
to every young Virginian, for, as Jefferson wrote, “the whole commerce
between master and slave is a perpetual exercise of the most boisterous
passions, the most insulting despotism on the one part, and degrading
submissions on the other.”
Augustine Washington’s will left to his son George “Ten negro Slaves,”
with an additional share of those “not herein particularly Devised,”
but all to remain in the possession of Mary Washington until the boy
was twenty-one years of age. With his taking possession of the Mount
Vernon estate in his twenty-second year eighteen more came under
Washington’s direction. In 1754 he bought a “fellow” for £40.5, another
(Jack) for £52.5, and a negro woman (Clio) for £50. In 1756 he
purchased of the governor a negro woman and child for £60, and two
years later a fellow (Gregory) for £60.9. In the following year (the
year of his marriage) he bought largely: a negro (Will) for £50;
another for £60; nine for £406, an average of £45; and a woman (Hannah)
and child, £80. In 1762 he added to the number by purchasing seven of
Lee Massey for £300 (an average of £43), and two of Colonel Fielding
Lewis at £115, or £57.10 apiece. From the estate of Francis Hobbs he
bought, in 1764, Ben, £72; Lewis, £36.10; and Sarah, £20. Another
fellow, bought of Sarah Alexander, cost him £76; and a negro (Judy) and
child, sold by Garvin Corbin, £63. In 1768 Mary Lee sold him two
mulattoes (Will and Frank) for £61.15 and £50, respectively; and two
boys (negroes), Adam and Frank, for £19 apiece. Five more were
purchased in 1772, and after that no more were bought. In 1760
Washington paid tithes on forty-nine slaves, five years later on
seventy-eight, in 1770 on eighty-seven, and in 1774 on one hundred and
thirty-five; besides which must be included the “dower slaves” of his
wife. Soon after this there was an overplus, and Washington in 1778
offered to barter for some land “Negroes, of whom I every day long more
to get clear of,” and even before this he had learned the economic fact
that except on the richest of soils slaves “only add to the Expence.”
In 1791 he had one hundred and fifteen “hands” on the Mount Vernon
estate, besides house servants, and De Warville, describing his estate
in the same year, speaks of his having three hundred negroes. At this
time Washington declared that “I never mean (unless some particular
circumstance compel me to it) to possess another slave by purchase,”
but this intention was broken, for “The running off of my cook has been
a most inconvenient thing to this family, and what rendered it more
disagreeable, is that I had resolved never to become the Master of
another slave by purchase, but this resolution I fear I must break. I
have endeavored to hire, black or white, but am not yet supplied.”
A few more slaves were taken in payment of a debt, but it was from
necessity rather than choice, for at this very time Washington had
decided that “it is demonstratively clear, that on this Estate (Mount
Vernon) I have more working negros by a full moiety, than can be
employed to any advantage in the farming system, and I shall never turn
Planter thereon. To sell the overplus I cannot, because I am principled
against this kind of traffic in the human species. To hire them out, is
almost as bad, because they could not be disposed of in families to any
advantage, and to disperse the families I have an aversion. What then
is to be done? Something must or I shall be ruined; for all the money
(in addition to what I raise by crops, and rents) that have been
_received_ for Lands, sold within the last four years, to the amount of
Fifty thousand dollars, has scarcely been able to keep me afloat.” And
writing of one set he said, “it would be for my interest to set them
free, rather than give them victuals and cloaths.”
The loss by runaways was not apparently large. In October, 1760, his
ledger contains an item of seven shillings “To the Printing Office …
for Advertising a run-a-way Negro.” In 1761 he pays his clergyman, Rev.
Mr. Green, “for taking up one of my Runaway Negroes £4.” In 1766
rewards are paid for the “taking upp” of “Negro Tom” and “Negro Bett.”
The “taking up of Harry when Runaway” in 1771 cost £1.16. When the
British invaded Virginia in 1781, a number escaped or were carried away
by the enemy. By the treaty of peace these should have been returned,
and their owner wrote, “Some of my own slaves, and those of Mr. Lund
Washington who lives at my house may probably be in New York, but I am
unable to give you their description—their names being so easily
changed, will be fruitless to give you. If by chance you should come at
the knowledge of any of them, I will be much obliged by your securing
them, so that I may obtain them again.”
In 1796 a girl absconded to New England, and Washington made inquiries
of a friend as to the possibility of recovering her, adding, “however
well disposed I might be to a gradual abolition, or even to an entire
emancipation of that description of people (if the latter was in itself
practicable) at this moment, it would neither be politic nor just to
reward unfaithfulness with a premature preference, and thereby
discontent beforehand the minds of all her fellow servants, who, by
their steady attachment, are far more deserving than herself of favor,”
and at this time Washington wrote to a relative, “I am sorry to hear of
the loss of your servant; but it is my opinion these elopements will be
much more, before they are less frequent; and that the persons making
them should never be retained—if they are recovered, as they are sure
to contaminate and discontent others.”
Another source of loss was sickness, which, in spite of all Washington
could do, made constant inroads on the numbers. A doctor to care for
them was engaged by the year, and in the contracts with his overseers
clauses were always inserted that each was “to take all necessary and
proper care of the Negroes committed to his management using them with
proper humanity and descretion,” or that “he will take all necessary
and proper care of the negroes committed to his management, treating
them with humanity and tenderness when sick, and preventing them when
well, from running about and visiting without his consent; as also
forbid strange negroes frequenting their quarters without lawful
excuses for so doing.”