Furthermore, in writing to his manager, while absent from Mount Vernon,

Washington reiterated that “although it is last mentioned it is

foremost in my thoughts, to desire you will be particularly attentive

to my negros in their sickness; and to order every overseer

_positively_ to be so likewise; for I am sorry to observe that the

generality of them view these poor creatures in scarcely any other

light than they do a draught horse or ox; neglecting them as much when

they are unable to work; instead of comforting and nursing them when

they lye on a sick bed.” And in another letter he added, “When I

recommended care of, and attention to my negros in sickness, it was

that the first stage of, and the whole progress through the disorders

with which they might be seized (if more than a slight indisposition)

should be closely watched, and timely applications and remedies be

administered; especially in the pleurisies, and all inflammatory

disorders accompanied with pain, when a few days’ neglect, or want of

bleeding might render the ailment incurable. In such cases sweeten’d

teas, broths and (according to the nature of the complaint, and the

doctor’s prescription) sometimes a little wine, may be necessary to

nourish and restore the patient; and these I am perfectly willing to

allow, when it is requisite. My fear is, as I expressed to you in a

former letter, that the under overseers are so unfeeling, in short

viewing the negros in no other light than as a better kind of cattle,

the moment they cease to work, they cease their care of them.”

At Mount Vernon his care for the slaves was more personal. At a time

when the small-pox was rife in Virginia he instructed his overseer

“what to do if the Small pox should come amongst them,” and when he

“received letters from Winchester, informing me that the Small pox had

got among my quarters in Frederick; [I] determin’d … to leave town as

soon as possible, and proceed up to them…. After taking the Doctors

directions in regard to my people … I set out for my quarters about 12

oclock, time enough to go over them and found every thing in the utmost

confusion, disorder and backwardness…. Got Blankets and every other

requisite from Winchester, and settl’d things on the best footing I

cou’d, … Val Crawford agreeing if any of those at the upper quarter got

it, to have them remov’d into my room and the Nurse sent for.”

Other sickness was equally attended to, as the following entries in his

diary show: “visited my Plantations and found two negroes sick …

ordered them to be blooded;” “found that lightening had struck my

quarters and near 10 Negroes in it, some very bad but with letting

blood they recover’d;” “ordered Lucy down to the House to be Physikd,”

and “found the new negro Cupid, ill of a pleurisy at Dogue Run Quarter

and had him brot home in a cart for better care of him…. Cupid

extremely Ill all this day and at night when I went to bed I thought

him within a few hours of breathing his last.”

This matter of sickness, however, had another phase, which caused

Washington much irritation at times when he could not personally look

into the cases, but heard of them through the reports of his overseers.

Thus, he complained on one occasion, “I find by reports that Sam is, in

a manner, always returned sick; Doll at the Ferry, and several of the

spinners very frequently so, for a week at a stretch; and ditcher

Charles often laid up with lameness. I never wish my people to work

when they are really sick, or unfit for it; on the contrary, that all

necessary care should be taken of them when they are so; but if you do

not examine into their complaints, they will lay by when no more ails

them, than all those who stick to their business, and are not

complaining from the fatigue and drowsiness which they feel as the

effect of night walking and other practices which unfit them for the

duties of the day.” And again he asked, “Is there anything particular

in the cases of Ruth, Hannah and Pegg, that they have been returned

sick for several weeks together? Ruth I know is extremely deceitful;

she has been aiming for some time past to get into the house, exempt

from work; but if they are not made to do what their age and strength

will enable them, it will be a bad example for others—none of whom

would work if by pretexts they can avoid it”

Other causes than running away and death depleted the stock. One negro

was taken by the State for some crime and executed, an allowance of

sixty-nine pounds being made to his master. In 1766 an unruly negro was

shipped to the West Indies (as was then the custom), Washington writing

the captain of the vessel,—

“With this letter comes a negro (Tom) which I beg the favor of you to

sell in any of the islands you may go to, for whatever he will fetch,

and bring me in return for him

“One hhd of best molasses

“One ditto of best rum

“One barrel of lymes, if good and cheap

“One pot of tamarinds, containing about 10 lbs.

“Two small ditto of mixed sweetmeats, about 5 lbs. each.

And the residue, much or little, in good old spirits. That this fellow

is both a rogue and a runaway (tho’ he was by no means remarkable for

the former, and never practised the latter till of late) I shall not

pretend to deny. But that he is exceeding healthy, strong, and good at

the hoe, the whole neighborhood can testify, and particularly Mr.

Johnson and his son, who have both had him under them as foreman of the

gang; which gives me reason to hope he may with your good management

sell well, if kept clean and trim’d up a little when offered for sale.”

Another “misbehaving fellow” was shipped off in 1791, and was sold for

“one pipe and Quarter Cask of wine from the West Indies.” Sometimes

only the threat of such riddance was used, as when an overseer

complained of one slave, and his master replied, “I am very sorry that

so likely a fellow as Matilda’s Ben should addict himself to such

courses as he is pursuing. If he should be guilty of any atrocious

crime, that would effect his life, he might be given up to the civil

authority for trial; but for such offences as most of his color are

guilty of, you had better try further correction, accompanied with

admonition and advice. The two latter sometimes succeed where the first

has failed. He, his father and mother (who I dare say are his

receivers) may be told in explicit language, that if a stop is not put

to his rogueries and other villainies, by fair means and shortly, that

I will ship him off (as I did Wagoner Jack) for the West Indies, where

he will have no opportunity of playing such pranks as he is at present

engaged in.”

It is interesting to note, in connection with this conclusion, that

“admonition and advice” were able to do what “correction” sometimes

failed to achieve, that there is not a single order to whip, and that

the above case, and that which follows, are the only known cases where

punishment was approved. “The correction you gave Ben, for his assault

on Sambo, was just and proper. It is my earnest desire that quarrels

may be stopped or punishment of both parties follow, unless it shall

appear _clearly_, that one only is to blame, and the other forced into

[a quarrel] from self-defence.” In one other instance Washington wrote,

“If Isaac had his deserts he would receive a severe punishment for the

house, tools and seasoned stuff, which has been burned by his

carelessness.” But instead of ordering the “deserts” he continued, “I

wish you to inform him, that I sustain injury enough by their idleness;

they need not add to it by their carelessness.”

This is the more remarkable, because his slaves gave him constant

annoyance by their wastefulness and sloth and dishonesty. Thus, “Paris

has grown to be so lazy and self-willed” that his master does not know

what to with him; “Doll at the Ferry must be taught to knit, and _made_

to do a sufficient day’s work of it—otherwise (if suffered to be idle)

many more will walk in her steps”; “it is observed by the weekly

reports, that the sewers make only six shirts a week, and the last week

Carolina (without being sick) made only five. Mrs. Washington says

their usual task was to make nine with shoulder straps and good sewing.

Tell them therefore from me, that what _has_ been done, _shall_ be

done”; “none I think call louder for [attention] than the smiths, who,

from a variety of instances which fell within my own observation whilst

I was at home, I take to be two very idle fellows. A daily account

(which ought to be regularly) taken of their work, would alone go a

great way towards checking their idleness.” And the overseer was told

to watch closely “the people who are at work with the gardener, some of

whom I know to be as lazy and deceitful as any in the world (Sam

particularly).”

Furthermore, the overseers were warned to “endeavor to make the

Servants and Negroes take care of their cloathes;” to give them “a

weekly allowance of Meat … because the annual one is not taken care of

but either profusely used or stolen”; and to note “the delivery to and

the application of nails by the carpenters,… [for] I cannot conceive

how it is possible that 6000 twelve penny nails could be used in the

corn house at River Plantation; but of one thing I have no great doubt,

and that is, if they can be applied to other uses, or converted into

cash, rum or other things there will be no scruple in doing it.”

When robbed of some potatoes, Washington complained that “the deception

… is of a piece with other practices of a similar kind by which I have

suffered hitherto; and may serve to evince to you, in strong colors,

first how little confidence can be placed in any one round you; and

secondly the necessity of an accurate inspection into these things

yourself,—for to be plain, Alexandria is such a recepticle for every

thing that can be filched from the right owners, by either blacks or

whites; and I have such an opinion of my negros (two or three only

excepted), and not much better of some of the whites, that I am

perfectly sure not a single thing that can be disposed of at any price,

at that place, that will not, and is not stolen, where it is possible;

and carried thither to some of the underlying keepers, who support

themselves by this kind of traffick.” He dared not leave wine unlocked,

even for the use of his guests, “because the knowledge I have of my

servants is such, as to believe, that if opportunities are given them,

they will take off two glasses of wine for every one that is drank by

such visitors, and tell you they were used by them.” And when he had

some work to do requiring very ordinary qualities, he had to confess

that “I know not a negro among all mine, whose capacity, integrity and

attention could be relied on for such a trust as this.”

Whatever his opinion of his slaves, Washington was a kind master. In

one case he wrote a letter for one of them when the “fellow” was parted

from his wife in the service of his master, and at another time he

enclosed letters to a wife and to James’s “del Toboso,” for two of his

servants, to save them postage. In reference to their rations he wrote,

“whether this addition … is sufficient, I will not undertake to

decide;—but in most explicit language I desire they may have plenty;

for I will not have my feelings hurt with complaints of this sort, nor

lye under the imputation of starving my negros, and thereby driving

them to the necessity of thieving to supply the deficiency. To prevent

waste or embezzlement is the only inducement to allowancing of them at

all—for if, instead of a peck they could eat a bushel of meal a week

fairly, and required it, I would not withhold or begrudge it them.” At

Christmas-time there are entries in his ledger for whiskey or rum for

“the negroes,” and towards the end of his life he ordered the overseer,

“although others are getting out of the practice of using spirits at

Harvest, yet, as my people have always been accustomed to it, a

hogshead of Rum must be purchased; but I request at the same time, that

it may be used sparingly.”

A greater kindness of his was, in 1787, when he very much desired a

negro mason offered for sale, yet directed his agent that “if he has a

family, with which he is to be sold; or from whom he would reluctantly

part, I decline the purchase; his feelings I would not be the means of

hurting in the latter case, nor _at any rate_ be incumbered with the

former.”

The kindness thus indicated bore fruit in a real attachment of the

slaves for their master. In Humphreys’s poem on Washington the poet

alluded to the negroes at Mount Vernon in the lines,—

“Where that foul stain of manhood, slavery, flow’d

Through Afric’s sons transmitted in the blood;

Hereditary slaves his kindness shar’d,

For manumission by degrees prepar’d:

Return’d from war, I saw them round him press,

And all their speechless glee by artless signs express.”

And in a foot-note the writer added, “The interesting scene of his

return home, at which the author was present, is described exactly as

it existed.”

A single one of these slaves deserves further notice. His body-servant

“Billy” was purchased by Washington in 1768 for sixty-eight pounds and

fifteen shillings, and was his constant companion during the war, even

riding after his master at reviews; and this servant was so associated

with the General that it was alleged in the preface to the “forged

letters” that they had been captured by the British from “Billy,” “an

old servant of General Washington’s.” When Savage painted his

well-known “family group,” this was the one slave included in the

picture. In 1784 Washington told his Philadelphia agent that “The

mulatto fellow, William, who has been with me all the war, is attached

(married he says) to one of his own color, a free woman, who during the

war, was also of my family. She has been in an infirm condition for

some time, and I had conceived that the connexion between them had

ceased; but I am mistaken it seems; they are both applying to get her

here, and tho’ I never wished to see her more, I cannot refuse his

request (if it can be complied with on reasonable terms) as he has

served me faithfully for many years. After premising this much, I have

to beg the favor of you to procure her a passage to Alexandria.”

[Illustration: SAVAGE’S PICTURE OF THE WASHINGTON FAMILY]

When acting as chain-bearer in 1785, while Washington was surveying a

tract of land, William fell and broke his knee-pan, “which put a stop

to my surveying; and with much difficulty I was able to get him to

Abington, being obliged to get a sled to carry him on, as he could

neither walk, stand or ride.” From this injury Lee never quite

recovered, yet he started to accompany his master to New York in 1789,

only to give out on the road. He was left at Philadelphia, and Lear

wrote to Washington’s agent that “The President will thank you to

propose it to Will to return to Mount Vernon when he can be removed for

he cannot be of any service here, and perhaps will require a person to

attend upon him constantly. If he should incline to return to Mount

Vernon, you will be so kind as to have him sent in the first Vessel

that sails for Alexandria after he can be moved with safety—but if he

is still anxious to come on here the President would gratify him,

altho’ he will be troublesome—He has been an old and faithful Servant,

this is enough for the President to gratify him in every reasonable

wish.”

By his will Washington gave Lee his “immediate freedom or if he should

prefer it (on account of the accidents which have befallen him and

which have rendered him incapable of walking or of any active

employment) to remain in the situation he now is, it shall be optional

in him to do so— In either case however I allow him an annuity of

thirty dollars during his natural life which shall be independent of

the victuals and _cloaths_ he has been accustomed to receive; if he

_chuses_ the last alternative, but in full with his freedom, if he

prefers the first, and this I give him as a testimony of my sense of

his attachment to me and for his faithful services during the

Revolutionary War.”

Two small incidents connected with Washington’s last illness are worth

noting. The afternoon before the night he was taken ill, although he

had himself been superintending his affairs on horseback in the storm

most of the day, yet when his secretary “carried some letters to him to

frank, intending to send them to the Post Office in the evening,” Lear

tells us “he franked the letters; but said the weather was too bad to

send a servant up to the office that evening.” Lear continues, “The

General’s servant, Christopher, attended his bed side & in the room,

when he was sitting up, through his whole illness…. In the [last]

afternoon the General observing that Christopher had been standing by

his bed side for a long time—made a motion for him to sit in a chair

which stood by the bed side.”

A clause in Washington’s will directed that

“Upon the decease of my wife it is my will and desire that all the

slaves which I hold in _my own right_ shall receive their freedom—To

emancipate them during her life, would, tho’ earnestly wished by me, be

attended with such insuperable difficulties, on account of their

intermixture of marriages with the Dower negroes as to excite the most

painful sensations—if not disagreeable consequences from the latter,

while both descriptions are in the occupancy of the same proprietor, it

not being in my power under the tenure by which the dower Negroes are

held to manumit them—And whereas among those who will receive freedom

according to this devise there may be some who from old age, or bodily

infirmities & others who on account of their infancy, that will be

unable to support themselves, it is my will and desire that all who

come under the first and second description shall be comfortably

cloathed and fed by my heirs while they live and that such of the

latter description as have no parents living, or if living are unable

or unwilling to provide for them, shall be bound by the Court until

they shall arrive at the age of twenty five years…. The negroes thus

bound are (by their masters and mistresses) to be taught to read and

write and to be brought up to some useful occupation.”

In this connection Washington’s sentiments on slavery as an institution

may be glanced at. As early as 1784 he replied to Lafayette, when told

of a colonizing plan, “The scheme, my dear Marqs., which you propose as

a precedent to encourage the emancipation of the black people of this

Country from that state of Bondage in wch. they are held, is a striking

evidence of the benevolence of your Heart. I shall be happy to join you

in so laudable a work; but will defer going into a detail of the

business, till I have the pleasure of seeing you.” A year later, when

Francis Asbury was spending a day in Mount Vernon, the clergyman asked

his host if he thought it wise to sign a petition for the emancipation

of slaves. Washington replied that it would not be proper for him, but

added, “If the Maryland Assembly discusses the matter; I will address a

letter to that body on the subject, as I have always approved of it.”

When South Carolina refused to pass an act to end the slave-trade, he

wrote to a friend in that State, “I must say that I lament the decision

of your legislature upon the question of importing slaves after March

1793. I was in hopes that motives of policy as well as other good

reasons, supported by the direful effects of slavery, which at this

moment are presented, would have operated to produce a total

prohibition of the importation of slaves, whenever the question came to

be agitated in any State, that might be interested in the measure.” For

his own State he expressed the “wish from my soul that the Legislature

of this State could see the policy of a gradual Abolition of Slavery;

it would prev’t much future mischief.” And to a Pennsylvanian he

expressed the sentiment, “I hope it will not be conceived from these

observations, that it is my wish to hold the unhappy people, who are

the subject of this letter, in slavery. I can only say, that there is

not a man living, who wishes more sincerely than I do to see a plan

adopted for the abolition of it; but there is only one proper and

effectual mode by which it can be accomplished, and that is by

legislative authority; and this, as far as my suffrage will go, shall

never be wanting.”

Washington by no means restricted himself to slave servitors. Early in

life he took into his service John Alton at thirteen pounds per annum,

and this white man served as his body-servant in the Braddock campaign,

and Washington found in the march that “A most serious inconvenience

attended me in my sickness, and that was the losing the use of my

servant, for poor John Alton was taken about the same time that I was,

and with nearly the same disorder, and was confined as long; so that we

did not see each other for several days.” As elsewhere noticed,

Washington succeeded to the services of Braddock’s body-servant, Thomas

Bishop, on the death of the general, paying the man ten pounds a year.

These two were his servants in his trip to Boston in 1756, and in

preparation for that journey Washington ordered his English agent to

send him “2 complete livery suits for servants; with a spare cloak and

all other necessary trimmings for two suits more. I would have you

choose the livery by our arms, only as the field of the arms is white,

I think the clothes had better not be quite so, but nearly like the

inclosed. The trimmings and facings of scarlet, and a scarlet waist

coat. If livery lace is not quite disused, I should be glad to have the

cloaks laced. I like that fashion best, and two silver laced hats for

the above servants.”

For some reason Bishop left his employment, but in 1760 Washington

“wrote to my old servant Bishop to return to me again if he was not

otherwise engaged,” and, the man being “very desirous of returning,”

the old relation was reassumed. Alton in the mean time had been

promoted to be overseer of one of the plantations. In 1785 their master

noted in his diary, “Last night Jno Alton an Overseer of mine in the

Neck—an old & faithful Servant who has lived with me 30 odd years

died—and this evening the wife of Thos. Bishop, another old Servant who

had lived with me an equal number of years also died.” Both were

remembered in his will by a clause giving “To Sarah Green daughter of

the deceased Thomas Bishop, and to Ann Walker, daughter of John Alton,

also deceased I give each one hundred dollars, in consideration of the

attachment of their father[s] to me, each of whom having lived nearly

forty years in my family.”

Of Washington’s general treatment of the serving class a few facts can

be gleaned. He told one of his overseers, in reference to the

sub-overseers, that “to treat them civilly is no more than what all men

are entitled to, but my advice to you is, to keep them at a proper

distance; for they will grow upon familiarity, in proportion as you

will sink in authority if you do not.” To a housekeeper he promised “a

warm, decent and comfortable room to herself, to lodge in, and will eat

of the victuals of our Table, but not set at it, or at any time _with

us_ be her appearance what it may; for if this was _once admitted_ no

line satisfactory to either party, perhaps could be drawn thereafter.”

In visiting he feed liberally, good examples of which are given in the

cash account of the visit to Boston in 1756, when he “Gave to Servants

on ye Road 10/.” “By Cash Mr. Malbones servants £4.0.0.” “The

Chambermaid £1.2.6.” When the wife of his old steward, Fraunces, came

to need, he gave her “for Charity £1.17.6.” The majority will

sympathize rather than disapprove of his opinion when he wrote,

“Workmen in most Countries I believe are necessary plagues;—-in this

where entreaties as well as money must be used to obtain their work and

keep them to their duty they baffle all calculation in the

accomplishment of any plan or repairs they are engaged in;—and require

more attention to and looking after than can be well conceived.”

The overseers of his many plantations, and his “master” carpenters,

millers, and gardeners, were quite as great trials as his slaves. First

“young Stephens” gave him much trouble, which his diary reports in a

number of sententious entries: “visited my Plantation. Severely

reprimanded young Stephens for his Indolence, and his father for

suffering it;” “forbid Stephens keeping any horses upon my expence;”

“visited my quarters & ye Mill, according to custom found young

Stephens absent;” “visited my Plantation and found to my great surprise

Stephens constantly at work;” “rid out to my Plantn. and to my

Carpenters. Found Richard Stephens hard at work with an ax—Very

extraordinary this!”

Again he records, “Visited my Plantations—found Foster had been absent

from his charge since the 28th ulto. Left orders for him to come

immediately to me upon his return, and repremanded him severely.” Of

another, Simpson, “I never hear … without a degree of warmth & vexation

at his extreme stupidity,” and elsewhere he expresses his disgust at

“that confounded fellow Simpson.” A third spent all the fall and half

the winter in getting in his crop, and “if there was any way of making

such a rascal as Garner pay for such conduct, no punishment would be

too great for him. I suppose he never turned out of mornings until the

sun had warmed the earth, and if _he_ did not, the _negros_ would not.”

His chief overseer was directed to “Let Mr. Crow know that I view with

a very evil eye the frequent reports made by him of sheep dying;…

frequent _natural deaths_ is a very strong evidence to my mind of the

want of care or something worse.”

Curious distinctions were made oftentimes. Thus, in the contract with

an overseer, one clause was inserted to the effect, “And whereas there

are a number of whiskey stills very contiguous to the said Plantations,

and many idle, drunken and dissolute People continually resorting to

the same, priding themselves in debauching sober and well-inclined

Persons, the said Edd Voilett doth promise as well for his own sake as

his employers to avoid them as he ought.” To the contrary, in hiring a

gardener, it was agreed as part of the compensation that the man should

have “four dollars at Christmas, with which he may be drunk for four

days and four nights; two dollars at Easter to effect the same purpose;

two dollars at Whitsuntide to be drunk for two days; a dram in the

morning, and a drink of grog at dinner at noon.”

With more true kindness Washington wrote to one of his underlings, “I

was very glad to receive your letter of the 31st ultimo, because I was

afraid, from the accounts given me of your spitting blood,… that you

would hardly have been able to have written at all. And it is my

request that you will not, by attempting more than you are able to

undergo, with safety and convenience, injure yourself, and thereby

render me a disservice…. I had rather therefore hear that you had

nursed than exposed yourself. And the things which I sent from this

place (I mean the wine, tea, coffee and sugar) and such other matters

as you may lay in by the doctor’s direction for the use of the sick, I

desire you will make use of as your own personal occasions may

require.”

Of one Butler he had employed to overlook his gardeners, but who proved

hopelessly unfit, Washington said, “sure I am, there is no obligation

upon me to retain him from charitable motives; when he ought rather to

be punished as an imposter: for he well knew the services he had to

perform, and which he promised to fulfil with zeal, activity, and

intelligence.” Yet when the man was discharged his employer gave him a

“character:” “If his activity, spirit, and ability in the management of

Negroes, were equal to his honesty, sobriety and industry, there would

not be the least occasion for a change,” and Butler was paid his full

wages, no deduction being made for lost time, “as I can better afford

to be without the money than he can.”

Another thoroughly incompetent man was one employed to take charge of

the negro carpenters, of whom his employer wrote, “I am apprehensive …

that Green never will overcome his propensity to drink; that it is this

which occasions his frequent sickness, absences from work and poverty.

And I am convinced, moreover, that it answers no purpose to admonish

him.” Yet, though “I am so well satisfied of Thomas Green’s unfitness

to look after Carpenters,” for a time “the helpless situation in which

you find his family, has prevailed on me to retain him,” and when he

finally had to be discharged for drinking, Washington said, “Nothing

but compassion for his helpless family, has hitherto induced me to keep

him a moment in my service (so bad is the example he sets); but if he

has no regard for them himself, it is not to be expected that I am to

be a continual sufferer on this account for his misconduct.” His

successor needed the house the family lived in, but Washington could

not “bear the thought of adding to the distress I know they must be in,

by turning them adrift;… It would be better therefore on all accounts

if they were removed to some other place, even if I was to pay the

rent, provided it was low, or make some allowance towards it.”

To many others, besides family, friends, and employees, Washington was

charitable. From an early date his ledger contains frequent items

covering gifts to the needy. To mention a tenth of them would take too

much space, but a few typical entries are worth quoting:

“By Cash gave a Soldiers wife 5/;” “To a crippled man 5/;” “Gave a man

who had his House Burnt £1.;” “By a begging woman /5;” “By Cash gave

for the Sufferers at Boston by fire £12;” “By a wounded soldier 10/;”

“Alexandria Academy, support of a teacher of Orphan children £50;” “By

Charity to an invalid wounded Soldier who came from Redston with a

petition for Charity 18/;” “Gave a poor man by the President’s order

$2;” “Delivd to the President to send to two distress’d french women at

Newcastle $25;” “Gave Pothe a poor old man by the President’s order

$2;” “Gave a poor sailor by the Presdt order $1;” “Gave a poor blind

man by the Presdt order $1.50;” “By Madame de Seguer a french Lady in

distress gave her $50;” “By Subscription paid to Mr. Jas. Blythe

towards erecting and Supporting an Academy in the State of Kentucky

$100;” “By Subscription towards an Academy in the South Western

Territory $100;” “By Charity sent Genl Charles Pinckney in Columbus

Bank Notes, for the sufferers by the fire in Charleston So. Carolina

$300;” “By Charity gave to the sufferers by fire in Geo. Town $10;” “By

an annual Donation to the Academy at Alexandria pd. Dr. Cook $166.67;”

“By Charity to the poor of Alexandria deld. to the revd. Dr. Muir

$100.”

To an overseer he said, concerning a distant relative, “Mrs. Haney

should endeavor to do what she can for herself—this is a duty incumbent

on every one; but you must not let her suffer, as she has thrown

herself upon me; your advances on this account will be allowed always,

at settlement; and I agree readily to furnish her with provisions, and

for the good character you give of her daughter make the latter a

present in my name of a handsome but not costly gown, and other things

which she may stand most in need of. You may charge me also with the

worth of your tenement in which she is placed, and where perhaps it is

better she should be than at a great distance from your attentions to

her.”

After the terrible attack of fever in Philadelphia in 1793, Washington

wrote to a clergyman of that city,—

“It has been my intention ever since my return to the city, to

contribute my mite towards the relief of the _most_ needy inhabitants

of it. The pressure of public business hitherto has suspended, but not

altered my resolution. I am at a loss, however, for whose benefit to

apply the little I can give, and in whose hands to place it; whether

for the use of the fatherless children and widows, made so by the late

calamity, who may find it difficult, whilst provisions, wood, and other

necessaries are so dear, to support themselves; or to other and better

purposes, if any, I know not, and therefore have taken the liberty of

asking your advice. I persuade myself justice will be done to my

motives for giving you this trouble. To obtain information, and to

render the little I can afford, without ostentation or mention of my

name, are the sole objects of these inquiries. With great and sincere

esteem and regard, I am, &c.”

His adopted grandson he advised to “never let an indigent person ask,

without receiving _something_ if you have the means; always

recollecting in what light the widow’s mite was viewed.” And when he

took command of the army in 1775, the relative who took charge of his

affairs was told to “let the hospitality of the house, with respect to

the poor, be kept up. Let no one go hungry away. If any of this kind of

people should be in want of corn, supply their necessities, provided it

does not encourage them in idleness; and I have no objection to your

giving my money in charity, to the amount of forty or fifty pounds a

year, when you think it well bestowed. What I mean by having no

objection is, that it is my desire that it should be done. You are to

consider, that neither myself nor wife is now in the way to do these

good offices.”

VII

SOCIAL LIFE

There can be no doubt that Washington, like the Virginian of his time,

was pre-eminently social. It is true that late in life he complained,

as already quoted, that his home had become a “well resorted tavern,”

and that at his own table “I rarely miss seeing strange faces, come as

they say out of respect for me. Pray, would not the word curiosity

answer as well?” but even in writing this he added, “how different this

from having a few social friends at a cheerful board!” When a surveyor

he said that the greatest pleasure he could have would be to hear from

or be with “my Intimate friends and acquaintances;” to one he wrote, “I

hope you in particular will not Bauk me of what I so ardently wish

for,” and he groaned over being “amongst a parcel of barbarians.” While

in the Virginia regiment he complained of a system of rations which

“deprived me of the pleasure of inviting an officer or friend, which to

me would be more agreeable, than nick-nacks I shall meet with,” and

when he was once refused leave of absence by the governor, he replied

bitterly, “it was not to enjoy a party of pleasure I wanted a leave of

absence; I have been indulged with few of these, winter or summer!” At

Mount Vernon, if a day was spent without company the fact was almost

always noted in his diary, and in a visit, too, he noted that he had “a

very lonesome Evening at Colo Champe’s, not any Body favoring us with

their Company but himself.”

The plantation system which prevented town life and put long distances

between neighbors developed two forms of society. One of these was

house parties, and probably nowhere else in the world was that form of

hospitality so unstinted as in this colony. Any one of a certain social

standing was privileged, even welcomed, to ride up to the seat of a

planter, dismount, and thus become a guest, ceasing to be such only

when he himself chose. Sometimes one family would go _en masse_ many

miles to stay a week with friends, and when they set out to return

their hosts would journey with them and in turn become guests for a

week. The second form of social life was called clubs. At all the

cross-roads and court-houses there sprang up taverns or ordinaries, and

in these the men of a neighborhood would gather, and over a bowl of

punch or a bottle of wine, the expense of which they “clubbed” to

share, would spend their evenings.

Into this life Washington entered eagerly. As a mere lad his ledger

records expenditures: “By a club in Arrack at Mr. Gordon’s 2/6;” “Club

of a bottle of Rhenish at Mitchells 1/3;” “To part of the club at Port

Royal 1/;” “To Cash in part for a Bowl of fruit punch 1/7-1/2.” So,

too, he was a visitor at this time at some of the great Virginian

houses, as elsewhere noted. When he came into possession of Mount

Vernon he offered the same unstinted welcome that he had met with, and

even as a bachelor he writes of his “having much company,” and again of

being occupied with “a good deal of Company.” In two months of 1768

Washington had company to dinner, or to spend the night, on twenty-nine

days, and dined or visited away from home on seven; and this is

typical.

Whenever, too, trips were made to Williamsburg, Annapolis,

Philadelphia, or elsewhere, it was a rare occurrence when the various

stages of the journey were not spent with friends, and in those cities

he was dined and wined to a surfeit.

During the Revolution all of Washington’s aides and his secretary lived

with him at head-quarters, and constituted what he always called “my

family.” In addition, many others sat down at table,—those who came on

business from a distance, as well as bidden guests,—-which frequently

included ladies from the neighborhood, who must have been belles among

the sixteen to twenty men who customarily sat down to dinner. “If …

convenient and agreeable to you to take pot luck with me to-day,” the

General wrote John Adams in 1776, “I shall be glad of your company.”

Pot luck it was for commander-in-chief and staff. Mention has been made

of how sometimes Washington slept on the ground, and even when under

cover there was not occasionally much more comfort. Pickering relates

that one night was passed in “Headquarters at Galloway’s, an old log

house. The General lodged in a bed, and his family on the floor about

him. We had plenty of sepawn and milk, and all were contented.”

Oftentimes there were difficulties in the hospitality. “I have been at

my prest. quarters since the 1st day of Decr.,” Washington complained

to the commissary-general, “and have not a Kitchen to cook a Dinner in,

altho’ the Logs have been put together some considerable time by my own

Guard. Nor is there a place at this moment in which a servant can

lodge, with the smallest degree of comfort. Eighteen belonging to my

family, and all Mrs. Ford’s, are crowded together in her Kitchen, and

scarce one of them able to speak for the cold they have caught.”

Pickering, in telling how he tried to secure lodgings away from

head-quarters, gave for his reasons that “they are exceedingly pinched

for room…. Had I conceived how much satisfaction, quiet and even

leisure, I should have enjoyed at separate quarters, I would have taken

them six months ago. For at head-quarters there is a continual throng,

and my room, in particular, (when I was happy enough to get one,) was

always crowded by all that came to headquarters on business, because

there was no other for them, we having, for the most part, been in such

small houses.”

There were other difficulties. “I cannot get as much cloth,” the

general wrote, “as will make cloaths for my servants, notwithstanding

one of them that attends my person and table is indecently and most

shamefully naked.” One of his aides said to a correspondent, jocularly,

“I take your Caution to me in Regard to my Health very kindly, but I

assure you, you need be under no Apprehension of my losing it on the

Score of Excess of living, that Vice is banished from this Army and the

General’s Family in particular. We never sup, but go to bed and are

early up.” “Only conceive,” Washington complained to Congress, “the

mortification they (even the general officers) must suffer, when they

cannot invite a French officer, a visiting friend, or a travelling

acquaintance, to a better repast, than stinking whiskey (and not always

that) and a bit of Beef without vegetables.”

At times, too, it was necessary to be an exemplar. “Our truly

republican general,” said Laurens, “has declared to his officers that

he will set the example of passing the winter in a hut himself,” and

John Adams, in a time of famine, declared that “General Washington sets

a fine example. He has banished wine from his table, and entertains his

friends with rum and water.”

Whenever it was possible, however, there was company at head-quarters.

“Since the General left Germantown in the middle of September last,”

the General Orders once read, “he has been without his baggage, and on

that account is unable to receive company in the manner he could wish.

He nevertheless desires the Generals, Field Officers and Brigades Major

of the day, to dine with him in future, at three o’clock in the

afternoon.” Again the same vehicle informed the army that “the hurry of

business often preventing particular invitations being given to

officers to dine with the General; He presents his compliments to the

Brigadiers and Field Officers of the day, and requests while the Camp

continues settled in the City, they will favor him with their company

to dinner, without further or special invitation.”

Mrs. Drinker, who went with a committee of women to camp at Valley

Forge, has left a brief description of head-quarters hospitality:

“Dinner was served, to which he invited us. There were 15 Officers,

besides ye Gl. and his wife, Gen. Greene, and Gen. Lee. We had an

elegant dinner, which was soon over, when we went out with ye Genls

wife, up to her Chamber—and saw no more of him.” Claude Blanchard, too,

describes a dinner, at which “there was twenty-five covers used by some

officers of the army and a lady to whom the house belonged in which the

general lodged. We dined under the tent. I was placed along side of the

general. One of his aides-de-camp did the honors. The table was served

in the American style and pretty abundantly; vegetables, roast beef,

lamb, chickens, salad dressed with nothing but vinegar, green peas,

puddings, and some pie, a kind of tart, greatly in use in England and

among the Americans, all this being put upon the table at the same

time. They gave us on the same plate beef, green peas, lamb, &c.”

Nor was the ménage of the General unequal to unexpected calls.

Chastellux tells of his first arrival in camp and introduction to

Washington: “He conducted me to his house, where I found the company

still at table, although the dinner had been long over. He presented me

to the Generals Knox, Waine, Howe, &c. and to his _family_, then

composed of Colonels Hamilton and Tilgman, his Secretaries and his

Aides de Camp, and of Major Gibbs, commander of his guards; for in

England and America, the Aides de Camp, Adjutants and other officers

attached to the General, form what is called his _family_. A fresh

dinner was prepared for me and mine; and the present was prolonged to

keep me company.” “At nine,” he elsewhere writes, “supper was served,

and when the hour of bed-time came, I found that the chamber, to which

the General conducted me was the very parlour I speak of, wherein he

had made them place a camp-bed.” Of his hospitality Washington himself

wrote,—

“I have asked Mrs. Cochran & Mrs. Livingston to dine with me to-morrow;

but am I not in honor bound to apprize them of their fate? As I hate

deception, even where the imagination only is concerned; I will. It is

needless to premise, that my table is large enough to hold the ladies.

Of this they had ocular proof yesterday. To say how it is usually

covered, is rather more essential; and this shall be the purport of my

Letter.

“Since our arrival at this happy spot, we have had a ham, (sometimes a

shoulder) of Bacon, to grace the head of the Table; a piece of roast

Beef adorns the foot; a dish of beans, or greens, (almost

imperceptible,) decorates the center. When the cook has a mind to cut a

figure, (which, I presume will be the case to-morrow) we have two

Beef-steak pyes, or dishes of crabs, in addition, one on each side of

the center dish, dividing the space & reducing the distance between

dish & dish to about 6 feet, which without them would be near 12 feet

apart. Of late he has had the surprising sagacity to discover, that

apples will make pyes; and its a question, if, in the violence of his

efforts, we do not get one of apples, instead of having both of

Beef-steaks. If the ladies can put up with such entertainment, and will

submit to partake of it in plates, once Tin but now Iron—(not become so

by the labor of scouring), I shall be happy to see them.”

Dinners were not the only form of entertaining. In Cambridge, when Mrs.

Washington and Mrs. Jack Custis were at head-quarters, a reception was

held on the anniversary of Washington’s marriage, and at other times

when there was anything to celebrate,—the capitulation of Burgoyne, the

alliance with France, the birth of a dauphin, etc.,—parades, balls,

receptions, “feux-de-joie,” or cold collations were given. Perhaps the

most ambitious attempt was a dinner given on September 21, 1782, in a

large tent, to which ninety sat down, while a “band of American music”

added to the “gaiety of the company.”

Whenever occasion called the General to attend on Congress there was

much junketing. “My time,” he wrote, “during my winter’s residence in

Philadelphia, was unusually (for me) divided between parties of

pleasure and parties of business.” When Reed pressed him to pass the

period of winter quarters in visiting him in Philadelphia, he replied,

“were I to give in to private conveniency and amusement, I should not

be able to resist the invitation of my friends to make Philadelphia,

instead of a squeezed up room or two, my quarters for the winter.”

While President, a more elaborate hospitality was maintained. Both in

New York and Philadelphia the best houses procurable were rented as the

Presidential home,—for Washington “wholly declined living in any public

building,”—and a steward and fourteen lower servants attended to all

details, though a watchful supervision was kept by the President over

them, and in the midst of his public duties he found time to keep a

minute account of the daily use of all supplies, with their cost. His

payments to his stewards for mere servants’ wages and food (exclusive

of wine) were over six hundred dollars a month, and there can be little

doubt that Washington, who had no expense paid by the public, more than

spent his salary during his term of office.

It was the President’s custom to give a public dinner once a week “to

as many as my table will hold,” and there was also a bi-weekly levee,

to which any one might come, as well as evening receptions by Mrs.

Washington, which were more distinctly social and far more exclusive.

Ashbel Green states that “Washington’s dining parties were entertained

in a very handsome style. His weekly dining day for company was

Thursday, and his dining hour was always four o’clock in the afternoon.

His rule was to allow five minutes for the variations of clocks and

watches, and then go to the table, be present or absent, whoever might.

He kept his own clock in the hall, just within the outward door, and

always exactly regulated. When lagging members of Congress came in, as

they often did, after the guests had sat down to dinner, the

president’s only apology was, ‘Gentlemen (or sir) we are too punctual

for you. I have a cook who never asks whether the company has come, but

whether the hour has come.’ The company usually assembled in the

drawing-room, about fifteen or twenty minutes before dinner, and the

president spoke to every guest personally on entering the room.”

Maclay attended several of the dinners, and has left descriptions of

them. “Dined this day with the President,” he writes. “It was a great

dinner— all in the tastes of high life. I considered it as a part of my

duty as a Senator to submit to it, and am glad it is over. The

President is a cold, formal man; but I must declare that he treated me

with great attention. I was the first person with whom he drank a glass

of wine. I was often spoken to by him.” Again he says,—

“At dinner, after my second plate had been taken away, the President

offered to help me to part of a dish which stood before him. Was ever

anything so unlucky? I had just before declined being helped to

anything more, with some expression that denoted my having made up my

dinner. Had, of course, for the sake of consistency, to thank him

negatively, but when the dessert came, and he was distributing a

pudding, he gave me a look of interrogation, and I returned the thanks

positive. He soon after asked me to drink a glass of wine with him.” On

another occasion he “went to the President’s to dinner…. The President

and Mrs. Washington sat opposite each other in the middle of the table;

the two secretaries, one at each end. It was a great dinner, and the

best of the kind I ever was at. The room, however, was disagreeably

warm. First the soup; fish roasted and boiled; meats, sammon, fowls,

etc…. The middle of the table was garnished in the usual tasty way,

with small images, flowers, (artificial), etc. The dessert was, apple

pies, pudding, etc.; then iced creams, jellies, etc.; then

water-melons, musk-melons, apples, peaches, nuts. It was the most

solemn dinner I ever was at. Not a health drank; scarce a word was said

until the cloth was taken away. Then the President filling a glass of

wine, with great formality drank to the health of every individual by

name round the table. Everybody imitated him, charged glasses, and such

a buzz of ‘health, sir,’ and ‘health, madam,’ and ‘thank you, sir,’ and

‘thank you, madam,’ never had I heard before…. The ladies sat a good

while, and the bottles passed about; but there was a dead silence

almost. Mrs. Washington at last withdrew with the ladies. I expected

the men would now begin, but the same stillness remained. The President

told of a New England clergyman who had lost a hat and wig in passing a

river called the Brunks. He smiled, and everybody else laughed. He now

and then said a sentence or two on some common subject, and what he

said was not amiss…. The President … played with the fork, striking on

the edge of the table with it. We did not sit long after the ladies

retired. The President rose, went up-stairs to drink coffee; the

company followed.”

[Illustration: PRESIDENTIAL DINNER INVITATION]

Bradbury gives the menu of a dinner at which he was, where “there was

an elegant variety of roast beef, veal, turkey, ducks, fowls, hams,

&c.; puddings, jellies, oranges, apples, nuts, almonds, figs, raisins,

and a variety of wines and punch. We took our leave at six, more than

an hour after the candles were introduced. No lady but Mrs. Washington

dined with us. We were waited on by four or five men servants dressed

in livery.” At the last official dinner the President gave, Bishop

White was present, and relates that “to this dinner as many were

invited as could be accommodated at the President’s table…. Much

hilarity prevailed; but on the removal of the cloth it was put an end

to by the President—certainly without design. Having filled his glass,

he addressed the company, with a smile on his countenance, saying:

‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is the last time I shall drink your health,

as a public man. I do it with sincerity, and wishing you all possible

happiness.’ There was an end of all pleasantry.”

A glance at Mrs. Washington’s receptions has been given, but the levees

of the President remain to be described. William Sullivan, who attended

many, wrote,—

“At three o’clock or at any time within a quarter of an hour afterward,

the visitor was conducted to this dining room, from which all seats had

been removed for the time. On entering, he saw” Washington, who “stood

always in front of the fire-place, with his face towards the door of

entrance. The visitor was conducted to him, and he required to have the

name so distinctly pronounced that he could hear it. He had the very

uncommon faculty of associating a man’s name, and personal appearance,

so durably in his memory, as to be able to call one by name, who made

him a second visit. He received his visitor with a dignified bow, while

his hands were so disposed of as to indicate, that the salutation was

not to be accompanied with shaking hands. This ceremony never occurred

in these visits, even with his most near friends, that no distinction

might be made. As visitors came in, they formed a circle round the

room. At a quarter past three, the door was closed, and the circle was

formed for that day. He then began on the right, and spoke to each

visitor, calling him by name, and exchanging a few words with him. When

he had completed his circuit, he resumed his first position, and the

visitors approached him in succession, bowed and retired. By four

o’clock the ceremony was over.”

The ceremony of the dinners and levees and the liveried servants were

favorite impeachments of the President among the early Democrats before

they had better material, and Washington was charged with trying to

constitute a court, and with conducting himself like a king. Even his

bow was a source of criticism, and Washington wrote in no little

irritation in regard to this, “that I have not been able to make bows

to the taste of poor Colonel Bland, (who, by the by, I believe, never

saw one of them), is to be regretted, especially too, as (upon those

occasions), they were indiscriminately bestowed, and the best I was

master of, would it not have been better to throw the veil of charity

over them, ascribing their stiffness to the effects of age, or to the

unskillfulness of my teacher, than to pride and dignity of office,

which God knows has no charms for me? For I can truly say, I had rather

be at Mount Vernon with a friend or two about me, than to be attended

at the seat of government by the officers of state, and the

representatives of every power in Europe.”

There can be no doubt that Washington hated ceremony as much as the

Democrats, and yielded to it only from his sense of fitness and the

opinions of those about him. Jefferson and Madison both relate how such

unnecessary form was used at the first levee by the master of

ceremonies as to make it ridiculous, and Washington, appreciating this,

is quoted as saying to the amateur chamberlain, “Well, you have taken

me in once, but, by God, you shall never take me in a second time.” His

secretary, in writing to secure lodgings in Philadelphia, when the

President and family were on their way to Mount Vernon, said, “I must

repeat, what I observed in a former letter, that as little ceremony &

parade may be made as possible, for the President wishes to command his

own time, which these things always forbid in a greater or less degree,

and they are to him fatiguing and oftentimes painful. He wishes not to

exclude himself from the sight or conversation of his fellow citizens,

but their eagerness to show their affection frequently imposes a heavy

tax on him.”

This was still further shown in his diary of his tours through New

England and the Southern States. Nothing would do but for Boston to

receive him with troops, etc., and Washington noted, “finding this

ceremony not to be avoided, though I had made every effort to do it, I

named the hour.” In leaving Portsmouth he went “quietly, and without

any attendance, having earnestly entreated that all parade and ceremony

might be avoided on my return.” When travelling through North Carolina,

“a small party of horse under one Simpson met us at Greenville, and in

spite of every endeavor which could comport with decent civility, to

excuse myself from it, they would attend me to Newburn.”

During the few years that Washington was at Mount Vernon subsequent to

the Revolution, the same unbounded hospitality was dispensed as in

earlier times, while a far greater demand was made upon it, and one so

variegated that at times the host was not a little embarrassed. Thus he

notes that “a Gentleman calling himself the Count de Cheiza D’Artigan

Officer of the French Guards came here to dinner; but bringing no

letters of introduction, nor any authentic testimonials of his being

either; I was at a loss how to receive or treat him,—he stayed to

dinner and the evening,” and the next day departed in Washington’s

carriage to Alexandria. “A farmer came here to see,” he says, “my drill

plow, and staid all night.” In another instance he records that a woman

whose “name was unknown to me dined here.” Only once were visitors

frowned on, and this was when a British marauding party came to Mount

Vernon during the Revolution. Even they, in Washington’s absence, were

entertained by his overseer, but his master wrote him, on hearing of

this, “I am little sorry of my own [loss]; but that which gives me most

concern is, that you should go on board the enemy’s vessels and furnish

them with refreshments. It would have been a less painful circumstance

to me to have heard, that in consequence of your non-compliance with

their request, they had burnt my House and laid the plantation in

ruins. You ought to have considered yourself as my representative, and

should have reflected on the bad example of communicating with the

enemy, and making a voluntary offer of refreshments to them with a view

to prevent a conflagration.”

The hospitality at Mount Vernon was perfectly simple. A traveller

relates that he was taken there by a friend, and, as Washington was

“viewing his laborers,” we “were desired to tarry.” “When the President

returned he received us very politely. Dr. Croker introduced me to him

as a gentleman from Massachusetts who wished to see the country and pay

his respects. He thanked us, desired us to be seated, and to excuse him

a few moments…. The President came and desired us to walk in to dinner

and directed us where to sit, (no grace was said)…. The dinner was very

good, a small roasted pigg, boiled leg of lamb, roasted fowles, beef,

peas, lettice, cucumbers, artichokes, etc., puddings, tarts, etc., etc.

We were desired to call for what drink we chose. He took a glass of

wine with Mrs. Law first, which example was followed by Dr. Croker and

Mrs. Washington, myself and Mrs. Peters, Mr. Fayette and the young lady

whose name is Custis. When the cloth was taken away the President gave

‘All our Friends,’”

Another visitor tells that he was received by Washington, and, “after …

half an hour, the General came in again, with his hair neatly powdered,

a clean shirt on, a new plain drab coat, white waistcoat and white silk

stockings. At three, dinner was on the table, and we were shown by the

General into another room, where everything was set off with a peculiar

taste and at the same time neat and plain. The General sent the bottle

about pretty freely after dinner, and gave success to the navigation of

the Potomac for his toasts, which he has very much at heart…. After Tea

General Washington retired to his study and left us with the … rest of

the Company. If he had not been anxious to hear the news of Congress

from Mr. Lee, most probably he would not have returned to supper, but

gone to bed at his usual hour, nine o’clock, for he seldom makes any

ceremony. We had a very elegant supper about that time. The General

with a few glasses of champagne got quite merry, and being with his

intimate friends laughed and talked a good deal. Before strangers he is

very reserved, and seldom says a word. I was fortunate in being in his

company with his particular acquaintances…. At 12 I had the honor of

being lighted up to my bedroom by the General himself.”

This break on the evening hours was quite unusual, Washington himself

saying in one place that nine o’clock was his bedtime, and he wrote of

his hours after dinner, “the usual time of setting at table, a walk,

and tea, brings me within the dawn of candlelight; previous to which,

if not prevented by company I resolve, that as soon as the glimmering

taper supplies the place of the great luminary, I will retire to my

writing table and acknowledge the letters I have received; but when the

lights were brought, I feel tired and disinclined to engage in this

work, conceiving that the next night will do as well. The next comes,

and with it the same causes for postponement, and effect, and so on.”

The foregoing allusion to Washington’s conversation is undoubtedly

just. All who met him formally spoke of him as taciturn, but this was

not a natural quality. Jefferson states that “in the circle of his

friends, where he might be unreserved with safety, he took a free share

in conversation,” and Madison told Sparks that, though “Washington was

not fluent nor ready in conversation, and was inclined to be taciturn

in general society,” yet “in the company of two or three intimate

friends, he was talkative, and when a little excited was sometimes

fluent and even eloquent” “The story so often repeated of his never

laughing,” Madison said, was “wholly untrue; no man seemed more to

enjoy gay conversation, though he took little part in it himself. He

was particularly pleased with the jokes, good humor, and hilarity of

his companions.”

Washington certainly did enjoy a joke. Nelly Custis said, “I have

sometimes made him laugh most heartily from sympathy with my joyous and

extravagant spirits,” and many other instances of his laughing are

recorded. He himself wrote in 1775 concerning the running away of some

British soldiers, “we laugh at his idea of chasing the Royal Fusileers

with the stores. Does he consider them as inanimate, or as treasure?”

When the British in Boston sent out a bundle of the king’s speech,

“farcical enough, we gave great joy to them, (the red coats I mean),

without knowing or intending it; for on that day, the day which gave

being to the new army, (but before the proclamation came to hand,) we

had hoisted the union flag in compliment to the United Colonies. But,

behold, it was received in Boston as a token of the deep impression the

speech had made upon us, and as a signal of submission.”

At times Washington would joke himself, though it was always somewhat

labored, as in the case of the Jack already cited. “Without a coinage,”

he wrote, “or unless a stop can be put to the cutting and clipping of

money, our dollars, pistareens, &c., will be converted, as Teague says,

into _five_ quarters.” When the Democrats were charging the Federalists

with having stolen from the treasury, he wrote to a Cabinet official,

“and pray, my good sir, what part of the $800.000 have come to your

share? As you are high in Office, I hope you did not disgrace yourself

in the acceptance of a paltry bribe—a $100.000 perhaps.” He once even

attempted a pun, by writing, “our enterprise will be ruined, and we

shall be stopped at the Laurel Hill this winter; but not to gather

laurels, (except of the kind that covers the mountains).”

Probably the neatest turn was his course on one occasion with General

Tryon, who sent him some British proclamations with the request, “that

through your means, the officers and men under your command may be

acquainted with their contents.” Washington promptly replied that he

had given them “free currency among the officers and men under my

command,” and enclosed to Tryon a lot of the counter-proclamation,

asking him to “be instrumental in communicating its contents, so far as

it may be in your power, to the persons who are the objects of its

operation. The benevolent purpose it is intended to answer will I

persuade myself, sufficiently recommend it to your candor.”

To a poetess who had sent him some laudatory verses about himself he

expressed his thanks, and added, “Fiction is to be sure the very life

and Soul of Poetry—all Poets and Poetesses have been indulged in the

free and indisputable use of it, time out of mind. And to oblige you to

make such an excellent Poem on such a subject without any materials but

those of simple reality, would be as cruel as the Edict of Pharoah

which compelled the children of Israel to manufacture Bricks without

the necessary Ingredients.”

Twice he joked about his own death. “As I have heard,” he said after

Braddock’s defeat, “since my arrival at this place, a circumstancial

account of my death and dying speech, I take this early opportunity of

contradicting the first, and of assuring you, that I have not as yet

composed the latter.” Many years later, in draughting a letter for his

wife, he wrote,—

“I am now by desire of the General to add a few words on his behalf;

which he desires may be expressed in the terms following, that is to

say,—that despairing of hearing what may be said of him, if he should

really go off in an apoplectic, or any other fit (for he thinks all

fits that issue in death are worse than a love fit, a fit of laughter,

and many other kinds which he could name)—he is glad to hear

_beforehand_ what will be said of him on that occasion; conceiving that

nothing extra will happen between _this_ and _then_ to make a change in

his character for better, or for worse. And besides, as he has entered

into an engagement … not to quit _this_ world before the year 1800, it

may be _relied upon_ that no breach of contract shall be laid to him on

that account, unless dire necessity should bring it about, maugre all

his exertions to the contrary. In that same, he shall hope they would

do by him as he would do by them—excuse it. At present there seems to

be no danger of his thus giving them the slip, as neither his health

nor spirits, were ever in greater flow, notwithstanding, he adds, he is

descending, and has almost reached the bottom of the hill; or in other

words, the shades below. For your particular good wishes on this

occasion he charges me to say that he feels highly obliged, and that he

reciprocates them with great cordiality.”

Other social qualities of the man cannot be passed over. A marked trait

was his extreme fondness of afternoon tea. “Dined at Mr. Langdon’s, and

drank Tea there, with a large circle of Ladies;” “in the afternoon

drank Tea … with about 20 ladies, who had been assembled for the

occasion;” “exercised between 5 & 7 o’clock in the morning & drank Tea

with Mrs. Clinton (the Governor’s Lady) in the afternoon;” “Drank tea

at the Chief Justice’s of the U. States;” “Dined with the Citizens in

public; and in the afternoon, was introduced to upwards of 50 ladies

who had assembled (at a Tea party) on the occasion;” “Dined and drank

tea at Mr. Bingham’s in great splendor.” Such are the entries in his

diary whenever the was “kettle-a-boiling-be” was within reach.

Pickering’s journal shows that tea served regularly at head-quarters,

and at Mount Vernon it was drunk in summer on the veranda. In writing

to Knox of his visit to Boston, Washington mentioned his recollection

of the chats over tea-drinking, and of how “social and gay” they were.

A fondness for picnics was another social liking. “Rid with Fanny

Bassett, Mr. Taylor and Mr. Shaw to meet a Party from Alexandria at

Johnsons Spring … where we dined on a cold dinner brought from Town by

water and spent the Afternoon agreeably—Returning home by Sun down or a

little after it,” is noted in his diary on one occasion, and on another

he wrote, “Having formed a Party, consisting of the Vice-President, his

lady, Son & Miss Smith; the Secretaries of State, Treasury & War, and

the ladies of the two latter; with all the Gentlemen of my family, Mrs.

Lear & the two Children, we visited the old position of Fort Washington

and afterwards dined on a dinner provided by Mr. Mariner.” Launchings,

barbecues, clambakes, and turtle dinners were other forms of social

dissipations.

A distinct weakness was dancing. When on the frontier he sighed, “the

hours at present are melancholy dull. Neither the rugged toils of war,

nor the gentler conflict of A[ssembly] B[alls,] is in my choice.” His

diary shows him at balls and “Routs” frequently; when he was President

he was a constant attendant at the regular “Dancing Assemblies” in New

York and Philadelphia, and when at Mount Vernon he frequently went ten

miles to Alexandria to attend dances. Of one of these Alexandria balls

he has left an amusing description: “Went to a ball at Alexandria,

where Musick and dancing was the chief Entertainment, however in a

convenient room detached for the purpose abounded great plenty of bread

and butter, some biscuits, with tea and coffee, which the drinkers of

could not distinguish from hot water sweet’ned—Be it remembered that

pocket handkerchiefs servd the purposes of Table cloths & Napkins and

that no apologies were made for either. I shall therefore distinguish

this ball by the stile and title of the Bread & Butter Ball.”

During the Revolution, too, he killed many a weary hour of winter

quarters by dancing. When the camp spent a day rejoicing over the

French alliance, “the celebration,” according to Thacher, “was

concluded by a splendid ball opened by his Excellency General

Washington, having for his partner the lady of General Knox.” Greene

describes how “we had a little dance at my quarters a few evenings

past. His Excellency and Mrs. Greene danced upwards of three hours

without once sitting down.” Knox, too, tells of “a most genteel

entertainment given by self and officers” at which Washington danced.

“Everybody allows it to be the first of the kind ever exhibited in this

State at least. We had above seventy ladies, all of the first ton in

the State, and between three and four hundred gentlemen. We danced all

night—an elegant room, the illuminating, fireworks, &c., were more than

pretty.” And at Newport, when Rochambeau gave a ball, by request it was

opened by Washington. The dance selected by his partner was “A

Successful Campaign,” then in high favor, and the French officers took

the instruments from the musicians and played while he danced the first

figure.

[Illustration: AGREEMENT FOR DANCING ASSEMBLY]

While in winter quarters he subscribed four hundred dollars (paper

money, equal to eleven dollars in gold) to get up a series of balls, of

which Greene wrote, “We have opened an assembly in Camp. From this

apparent ease, I suppose it is thought we must be in happy

circumstances. I wish it was so, but, alas, it is not. Our provisions

are in a manner, gone. We have not a ton of hay at command, nor

magazine to draw from. Money is extremely scarce and worth little when

we get it. We have been so poor in camp for a fortnight, that we could

not forward the public dispatches, for want of cash to support the

expresses.” At the farewell ball given at Annapolis, when the

commander-in-chief resigned his command, Tilton relates that “the

General danced in every set, that all the ladies might have the

pleasure of dancing with him; or as it has since been handsomely

expressed, ‘get a touch of him.’” He still danced in 1796, when

sixty-four years of age, but when invited to the Alexandria Assembly in

1799, he wrote to the managers, “Mrs. Washington and myself have been

honored with your polite invitation to the assemblies of Alexandria

this winter, and thank you for this mark of your attention. But, alas!

our dancing days are no more. We wish, however all those who have a

relish for so agreeable and innocent an amusement all the pleasure the

season will afford them; and I am, gentlemen,

“Your most obedient and obliged humble servant,

“GEO. WASHINGTON.”

VIII

TASTES AND AMUSEMENTS

A market trait of Washington’s character was his particularity about

his clothes; there can be little question that he was early in life a

good deal of a dandy, and that this liking for fine feathers never

quite left him. When he was about sixteen years old he wrote in his

journal, “Memorandum to have my Coat made by the following Directions

to be made a Frock with a Lapel Breast the Lapel to Contain on each

side six Button Holes and to be about 5 or 6 Inches wide all the way

equal and to turn as the Breast on the Coat does to have it made very

long Waisted and in Length to come down to or below the bent of the

knee the Waist from the armpit to the Fold to be exactly as long or

Longer than from thence to the Bottom not to have more than one fold in

the Skirt and the top to be made just to turn in and three Button Holes

the Lapel at the top to turn as the Cape of the Coat and Bottom to Come

Parallel with the Button Holes the Last Button hole in the Breast to be

right opposite to the Button on the Hip.”

In 1754 he bought “a Superfine blue broad cloth Coat, with Silver

Trimmings,” “a fine Scarlet Waistcoat full Lac’d,” and a quantity of

“silver lace for a Hatt,” and from another source it is learned that at

this time he was the possessor of ruffled shirts. A little later he

ordered from London “As much of the best superfine blue Cotton Velvet

as will make a Coat, Waistcoat and Breeches for a Tall Man, with a fine

silk button to suit it, and all other necessary trimmings and linings,

together with garters for the Breeches,” and other orders at different

times were for “6 prs. of the Very neatest shoes,” “A riding waistcoat

of superfine scarlet cloth and gold Lace,” “2 prs. of fashionable mix’d

or marble Color’d Silk Hose,” “1 piece of finest and fashionable Stock

Tape,” “1 Suit of the finest Cloth & fashionable colour,” “a New Market

Great Coat with a loose hood to it, made of Bleu Drab or broad cloth,

with straps before according to the present taste,” “3 gold and scarlet

sword-knots, 3 silver and blue do, 1 fashionable gold-laced hat.”

As these orders indicated, the young fellow strove to be in the

fashion. In 1755 he wrote his brother, “as wearing boots is quite the

mode, and mine are in a declining state, I must beg the favor of you to

procure me a pair that is good and neat.” “Whatever goods you may send

me,” he wrote his London agent, “let them be fashionable, neat and good

of their several kinds.” It was a great trial to him that his clothes

did not fit him. “I should have enclosed you my measure,” he wrote to

London, “but in a general way they are so badly taken here, that I am

convinced that it would be of very little service.” “I have hitherto

had my clothes made by one Charles Lawrence in Old Fish Street,” he

wrote his English factor. “But whether it be the fault of the tailor,

or the measure sent, I can’t say, but, certain it is, my clothes have

never fitted me well.”

It must not be inferred, however, that Washington carried his dandyism

to weakness. When fine clothes were not in place, they were promptly

discarded. In his trip to the Ohio in 1753 he states that “I put myself

in an Indian walking Dress,” and “tied myself up in a Match Coat,”—that

is, an Indian blanket. In the campaign of 1758 he wrote to his superior

officer “that were I left to pursue my own Inclinations, I would not

only order the Men to adopt the Indian dress, but cause the Officers to

do it also, and be at the first to set the example myself. Nothing but

the uncertainty of its taking with the General causes me to hesitate a

moment at leaving my Regimentals at this place, and proceeding as light

as any Indian in the Woods. ’Tis an unbecoming dress, I confess, for an

officer; but convenience, rather than shew, I think should be

consulted.” And this was such good sense that the general gave him

leave, and it was done.

With increase of years his taste in clothes became softened and more

sober. “On the other side is an invoice of clothes which I beg the

favor of you to purchase for me,” he wrote to London. “As they are

designed for wearing apparel for myself, I have committed the choice of

them to your fancy, having the best opinion of your taste. I want

neither lace nor embroidery. Plain clothes, with a gold or silver

button (if worn in genteel dress) are all I desire.” “Do not conceive,”

he told his nephew in 1783, “that fine clothes make fine men more than

fine feathers make fine Birds. A plain genteel dress is more admired,

and obtains more credit than lace and embroidery, in the Eyes of the

judicious and sensible.” And in connection with the provisional army he

decided that “on reconsidering the uniform of the Commander in Chief,

it has become a matter of doubt with me, (although, as it respects

myself _personally_, I was against _all_ embroidery,) whether

embroidery on the Cape, Cuffs, and Pockets of the Coat, and none on the

buff waistcoat would not have a disjointed and awkward appearance.”

Probably nowhere did he show his good taste more than in his treatment

of the idea of putting him in classic garments when his bust was made

by Houdon.

“In answer to your obliging inquiries respecting the dress, attitude,

&c.,” he wrote, “which I would wish to have given to the statue in

question, I have only to observe, that, not having sufficient knowledge

in the art of sculpture to oppose my judgment to the taste of

connoisseurs, I do not desire to dictate in the matter. On the contrary

I shall be perfectly satisfied with whatever may be judged decent and

proper. I should even scarcely have ventured to suggest, that perhaps a

servile adherence to the garb of antiquity might not be altogether so

expedient, as some little deviation in favor of the modern costume.”

Washington, as noted, bought his clothes in England; but it was from

necessity more than choice. “If there be any homespun Cloths in

Philadelphia which are tolerably fine, that you can come reasonably

at,” he said to his Philadelphia agent in 1784, “I would be obliged to

you to send me patterns of some of the best kinds—I should prefer that

which is mixed in the grain, because it will not so readily discover

its quality as a plain cloth.” Before he was inaugurated he wrote

“General Knox this day to procure me homespun broadcloth of the

Hartford fabric, to make a suit of clothes for myself,” adding, “I hope

it will not be a great while before it will be unfashionable for a

gentleman to appear in any other dress. Indeed, we have already been

too long subject to British prejudices.” At another time he noted in

his diary with evident pride, “on this occasion I was dressed in a suit

made at the Woolen Manufactory at Hartford, as the buttons also were.”

But then, as now, the foreign clothes were so much finer that his taste

overcame his patriotism, and his secretary wrote that “the President is

desireous of getting as much superfine blk broad Cloth as will make him

a suit of Clothes, and desires me to request that you would send him

that quantity … The best superfine French or Dutch black—exceedingly

fine—of a soft, silky texture—not glossy like the Engh cloths.”

A caller during the Presidency spoke of him as dressed in purple satin,

and at his levees he is described by Sullivan as “clad in black velvet;

his hair in full dress, powdered and gathered behind in a large silk

bag; yellow gloves on his hands; holding a cocked hat with a cockade in

it, and the edges adorned with a black feather about an inch deep. He

wore knee and shoe buckles; and a long sword, with a finely wrought and

polished steel hilt, which appeared at the left hip; the coat worn over

the sword, so that the hilt, and the part below the coat behind, were

in view. The scabbard was white polished leather.”

About his person Washington was as neat as he desired his clothes to

be. At seventeen when surveying he records that he was

“Lighted into a Room & I not being so good a Woodsman as ye rest of my

Company striped myself very orderly & went in to ye Bed as they called

it when to my Surprize I found it to be nothing but a Little

Straw—Matted together without Sheets or any thing else but only one

thread Bear blanket with double its Weight of Vermin such as Lice,

Fleas &c. I was glad to get up (as soon as ye Light was carried from

us) I put on my Cloths & Lay as my Companions. Had we not have been

very tired I am sure we should not have slep’d much that night. I made

a Promise not to Sleep so from that time forward chusing rather to

sleep in ye open Air before a fire as will appear hereafter.” The next

day he notes that the party “Travell’d up to Frederick Town where our

Baggage came to us we cleaned ourselves (to get Rid of ye Game we had

catched y. Night before)” and slept in “a good Feather Bed with clean

Sheets which was a very agreeable regale.”

Wherever he happened to be, the laundress was in constant demand. His

bill from the washer-lady for the week succeeding his inauguration as

President, and before his domestic ménage was in running order, was for

“6 Ruffled shirts, 2 plain shirts, 8 stocks, 3 pair Silk Hose, 2 White

hand. 2 Silk Handks. 1 pr. Flanl. Drawers, 1 Hair nett.”

The barber, too, was a constant need, and Washington’s ledger shows

constant expenditures for perfumed hair-powder and pomatum, and also

for powder bags and puffs. Apparently the services of this individual

were only for the arranging of his hair, for he seems never to have

shaved Washington, that being done either by himself or by his valet.

Of this latter individual Washington said (when the injury to William

Lee unfitted him for the service), “I do not as yet know whether I

shall get a substitute for William: nothing short of excellent

qualities and a man of good appearance, would induce me to do it—and

under my present view of the matter, too, who would employ himself

otherwise than William did—that is as a butler as well as a valette,

for my wants of the latter are so trifling that any man (as William

was) would soon be ruined by idleness, who had only them to attend to.”

In food Washington took what came with philosophy. “If you meet with

collegiate fare, it will be unmanly to complain,” he told his grandson,

though he once complained in camp that “we are debarred from the

pleasure of good living; which, Sir, (I dare say with me you will

concur,) to one who has always been used to it, must go somewhat hard

to be confined to a little salt provision and water.” Usually, however,

poor fare was taken as a matter of course. “When we came to Supper,” he

said in his journal of 1748, “there was neither a Cloth upon ye Table

nor a Knife to eat with but as good luck would have it we had Knives of

our own,” and again he wrote, “we pull’d out our Knapsack in order to

Recruit ourselves every one was his own Cook our Spits was Forked

Sticks our Plates was a Large Chip as for Dishes we had none.” Nor was

he squeamish about what he ate. In the voyage to Barbadoes he several

times ate dolphin; he notes that the bread was almost “eaten up by

Weavel & Maggots,” and became quite enthusiastic over some “very fine

Bristol tripe” and “a fine Irish Ling & Potatoes.” But all this may

have been due to the proverbial sea appetite.

Samuel Stearns states that Washington “breakfasts about seven o’clock

on three small Indian hoe-cakes, and as many dishes of tea,” and Custis

relates that “Indian cakes, honey, and tea formed this temperate

repast.” These two writers tell us that at dinner “he ate heartily, but

was not particular in his diet, with the exception of fish, of which he

was excessively fond. He partook sparingly of dessert, drank a

home-made beverage, and from four to five glasses of Madeira wine”

(Custis), and that “he dines, commonly on a single dish, and drinks

from half a pint to a pint of Madeira wine. This, with one small glass

of punch, a draught of beer, and two dishes of tea (which he takes half

an hour before sun-setting) constitutes his whole sustenance till the

next day.” (Stearns.) Ashbel Green relates that at the state banquets

during the Presidency Washington “generally dined on one single dish,

and that of a very simple kind. If offered something either in the

first or second course which was very rich, his usual reply was—‘That

is too good for me.’” It is worth noting that he religiously observed

the fasts proclaimed in 1774 and 1777, going without food the entire

day.

A special liking is mentioned above. In 1782 Richard Varick wrote to a

friend, “General Washington dines with me to-morrow; he is exceedingly

fond of salt fish; I have some coming up, & tho’ it will be here in a

few days, it will not be here in time—If you could conveniently lend me

as much fish as would serve a pretty large company to-morrow (at least

for one Dish), it will oblige me, and shall in a very few days be

returned in as good Dun Fish as ever you see. Excuse this freedom, and

it will add to the favor. Could you not prevail upon somebody to catch

some Trout for me early to-morrow morning?” When procurable, salt

codfish was Washington’s regular Sunday dinner.

A second liking was honey. His ledger several times mentions purchases

of this, and in 1789 his sister wrote him, “when I last had the

Pleasure of seeing you I observ’d your fondness for Honey; I have got a

large Pot of very fine in the comb, which I shall send by the first

opportunity.” Among his purchases “sugar candy” is several times

mentioned, but this may have been for children, and not for himself. He

was a frequent buyer of fruit of all kinds and of melons.

He was very fond of nuts, buying hazelnuts and shellbarks by the

barrel, and he wrote his overseer in 1792 to “tell house Frank I expect

he will lay up a more plenteous store of the black common walnuts than

he usually does.” The Prince de Broglie states that “at dessert he eats

an enormous quantity of nuts, and when the conversation is entertaining

he keeps eating through a couple of hours, from time to time giving

sundry healths, according to the English and American custom. It is

what they call ‘toasting.’”

Washington was from boyhood passionately fond of horsemanship, and when

but seventeen owned a horse. Humphreys states that “all those who have

seen General Washington on horseback, at the head of his army, will

doubtless bear testimony with the author that they never saw a more

graceful or dignified person,” and Jefferson said of him that he was

“the best horseman of his age, and the most graceful figure that could

be seen on horseback.” His diary shows that he rode on various

occasions as much as sixty miles in a day, and Lawrence reports that he

“usually rode from Rockingham to Princeton, which is five miles, in

forty minutes.” John Hunter, in a visit to Mount Vernon in 1785, writes

that he went

“to see his famous race-horse Magnolia—a most beautiful creature. A

whole length of his was taken a while ago, (mounted on Magnolia) by a

famous man from Europe on copper…. I afterwards went to his stables,

where among an amazing number of horses, I saw old Nelson, now 22 years

of age, that carried the General almost always during the war;

Blueskin, another fine old horse next to him, now and then had that

honor. Shaw also shewed me his old servant, that was reported to have

been taken, with a number of the General’s papers about him. They have

heard the roaring of many a cannon in their time. Blueskin was not the

favorite, on account of his not standing fire so well as venerable old

Nelson.”

Chastellux relates, “he was so attentive as to give me the horse he

rode, the day of my arrival, which I had greatly commended—I found him

as good as he is handsome; but above all, perfectly well broke, and

well trained, having a good mouth, easy in hand and stopping short in a

gallop without bearing the bit—I mention these minute particulars,

because it is the general himself who breaks all his own horses; and he

is a very excellent and bold horseman, leaping the highest fences, and

going extremely quick, without standing upon his stirrups, bearing on

the bridle, or letting his horse run wild.”

As a matter of course this liking for horses made Washington fond of

racing, and he not only subscribed liberally to most of the racing

purses, but ran horses at them, attending in person, and betting

moderately on the results. So, too, he was fond of riding to the

hounds, and when at Mount Vernon it was a favorite pastime. From his

diary excerpts of runs are,—

“Went a Fox hunting with the Gentlemen who came here yesterday…. after

a very early breakfast—found a Fox just back of Muddy hole Plantation

and after a Chase of an hour and a quarter with my Dogs, & eight couple

of Doctor Smiths (brought by Mr. Phil Alexander) we put him into a

hollow tree, in which we fastened him, and in the Pincushion put up

another Fox which, in an hour & 13 Minutes was killed—We then after

allowing the Fox in the hole half an hour put the Dogs upon his trail &

in half a Mile he took to another hollow tree and was again put out of

it but he did not go 600 yards before he had recourse to the same

shift—finding therefore that he was a conquered Fox we took the Dogs

off, and came home to Dinner.”

“After an early breakfast [my nephew] George Washington, Mr. Shaw and

Myself went into the Woods back of Muddy hole Plantation a hunting and

were joined by Mr. Lund Washington and Mr. William Peake. About half

after ten Oclock (being first plagued with the Dogs running Hogs) we

found a fox near Colo Masons Plantation on little Hunting Creek (West

fork) having followed on his Drag more than half a Mile; and run him

with Eight Dogs (the other 4 getting, as was supposed after a Second

Fox) close and well for an hour. When the Dogs came to a fault and to

cold Hunting until 20 minutes after when being joined by the missing

Dogs they put him up afresh and in about 50 Minutes killed up in an

open field of Colo Mason’s every Rider & every Dog being present at the

Death.”

During the Revolution, when opportunity offered, he rode to the hounds,

for Hiltzheimer wrote in 1781, “My son Robert [having] been on a Hunt

at Frankfort says that His Excel’y Gen. Washington was there.”

This liking made dogs an interest to him, and he took much pains to

improve the breed of his hounds. On one occasion he “anointed all my

Hounds (as well old Dogs as Puppies) which have the mange, with Hogs

Lard & Brimstone.” Mopsey, Pilot, Tartar, Jupiter, Trueman, Tipler,

Truelove, Juno, Dutchess, Ragman, Countess, Lady, Searcher, Rover,

Sweetlips, Vulcan, Singer, Music, Tiyal, and Forrester are some of the

names he gave them. In 1794, in the fall of his horse, as already

mentioned, he wrenched his back, and in consequence, when he returned

to Mount Vernon, this pastime was never resumed, and his pack was given

up.

Kindred to this taste for riding to the hounds was one for gunning. A

few entries in his diary tell the nature of his sport. “Went a ducking

between breakfast and dinner and kill’d 2 Mallards & 5 bald faces.” “I

went to the Creek but not across it. Kill’d 2 ducks, viz. a sprig tail

and a Teal.” “Rid out with my gun but kill’d nothing.” In 1787 a man

asked for permission to shoot over Mount Vernon, and Washington refused

it because

“my fixed determination is, that no person whatever shall hunt upon my

grounds or waters—To grant leave to one and refuse another would not

only be drawing a line of discrimination which would be offensive, but

would subject one to great inconvenience—for my strict and positive

orders to all my people are if they hear a gun fired upon my Land to go

immediately in pursuit of it…. Besides, as I have not lost my relish

for this sport when I find time to indulge myself in it, and Gentlemen

who come to the House are pleased with it, it is my wish not to have

game within my jurisdiction disturbed.”

Fishing was another pastime. He “went a dragging for Sturgeon”

frequently, and sometimes “catch’d one” and sometimes “catch’d none.”

While in Philadelphia in 1787 he went up to the old camp at Valley

Forge and spent a day fishing, and in 1789 at Portsmouth, “having

lines, we proceeded to the Fishing Banks a little without the Harbour

and fished for Cod; but it not being a proper time of tide, we only

caught two.” After his serious sickness in 1790 a newspaper reports

that “yesterday afternoon the President of the United States returned

from Sandy Hook and the fishing banks, where he had been for the

benefit of the sea air, and to amuse himself in the delightful

recreation of fishing. We are told he has had excellent sport, having

himself caught a great number of sea-bass and black fish—the weather

proved remarkably fine, which, together with the salubrity of the air

and wholesome exercise, rendered this little voyage extremely

agreeable, and cannot fail, we hope, of being serviceable to a speedy

and complete restoration of his health.”

Washington was fond of cards, and in bad weather even records “at home

all day, over cards.” How much time must have been spent in this way is

shown by the innumerable purchases of “1 dozen packs playing cards”

noted in his ledger. In 1748, when he was sixteen years old, he won two

shillings and threepence from his sister-in-law at whist and five

shillings at “Loo” (or, as he sometimes spells it, “Lue”) from his

brother, and he seems always to have played for small stakes, which

sometimes mounted into fairly sizable sums. The largest gain found is

three pounds, and the largest loss nine pounds fourteen shillings and

ninepence. He seems to have lost oftener than he won.

Billiards was a rival of cards, and a game of which he seems to have

been fond. In his seventeenth year he won one shilling and threepence

by the cue, and from that time won and lost more or less money in this

way. Here, too, he seems to have been out of pocket, though not for so

much money, his largest winning noted being only seven shillings and

sixpence, and his largest loss being one pound and ten shillings.

In 1751, at Barbadoes, Washington “was treated with a play ticket to

see the Tragedy of George Barnwell acted: the character of Barnwell and

several others was said to be well perform’d there was Musick a Dapted

and regularly conducted.” This presumptively was the lad’s first visit

to the playhouse, but from that time it was one of his favorite

amusements. At first his ledger shows expenditures of “Cash at the Play

House 1/3,” which proves that his purse would bear the cost of only the

cheapest seats; but later he became more extravagant in this respect,

and during the Presidency he used the drama for entertaining, his

ledger giving many items of tickets bought. A type entry in

Washington’s diary is, “Went to the play in the evening—sent tickets to

the following ladies and gentlemen and invited them to seats in my box,

viz:—Mrs. Adams (lady of the Vice-President,) General Schuyler and

lady, Mr. King and lady, Majr. Butler and lady, Colo Hamilton and lady,

Mrs. Green—all of whom accepted and came except Mrs. Butler, who was

indisposed.”

Maclay describes the first of these theatre parties as follows: “I

received a ticket from the President of the United States to use his

box this evening at the theatre, being the first of his appearances at

the playhouse since his entering on his office. Went The President,

Governor of the State, foreign Ministers, Senators from New Hampshire,

Connecticut, Pennsylvania, M.[aryland] and South Carolina; and some

ladies in the same box. I am old, and notices or attentions are lost on

me. I could have wished some of my dear children in my place; they are

young and would have enjoyed it. Long might they live to boast of

having been seated in the same box with the first Character in the

world. The play was the ‘School for Scandal,’ I never liked it; indeed,

I think it an indecent representation before ladies of character and

virtue. Farce, the ‘Old Soldier.’ The house greatly crowded, and I

thought the players acted well; but I wish we had seen the _Conscious

Lovers_, or some one that inculcated more prudential manners.”

Of the play, or rather interlude, of the “Old Soldier” its author,

Dunlap, gives an amusing story. It turned on the home-coming of an old

soldier, and, like the topical song of to-day, touched on local

affairs:

“When Wignell, as Darby, recounts what had befallen him in America, in

New York, at the adoption of the Federal Constitution, and the

inauguration of the president, the interest expressed by the audience

in the looks and the changes of countenance of this great man

[Washington] became intense. He smiled at these lines, alluding to the

change in the government—

There too I saw some mighty pretty shows;

A revolution, without blood or blows,

For, as I understood, the cunning elves,

The people all revolted from themselves.

But at the lines—

A man who fought to free the land from we,

_Like me_, had left his farm, a-soldiering to go:

But having gain’d his point, he had _like me_,

Return’d his own potato ground to see.

But there he could not rest. With one accord

He’s called to be a kind of—not a lord—

I don’t know what, he’s not a _great man_, sure,

For poor men love him just as he were poor.

They love him like a father or a brother,

DERMOT.

As we poor Irishmen love one another.

The president looked serious; and when Kathleen asked,

How looked he, Darby? Was he short or tall?

his countenance showed embarrassment, from the expectation or one of

those eulogiums which, he had been obliged to hear on many public

occasions, and which must doubtless have been a severe trial to his

feelings: but Darby’s answer that he had _not seen him_, because he had

mistaken a man ‘all lace and glitter, botherum and shine,’ for him,

until all the show had passed, relieved the hero from apprehension of

farther personality, and he indulged in that which was with him

extremely rare, a hearty laugh.”

Washington did not even despise amateur performances. As already

mentioned, he expressed a wish to take part in “Cato” himself in 1758,

and a year before he had subscribed to the regimental “players at Fort

Cumberland,” His diary shows that in 1768 the couple at Mount Vernon “&

ye two children were up to Alexandria to see the Inconstant or ‘the way

to win him’ acted,” which was probably an amateur performance.

Furthermore, Duer tells us that “I was not only frequently admitted to

the presence of this most august of men, in _propria persona_, but once

had the honor of appearing before him as one of the _dramatis personae_

in the tragedy of Julius Caesar, enacted by a young ‘American Company,’

(the theatrical corps then performing in New York being called the ‘Old

American Company’) in the garret of the Presidential mansion, wherein

before the magnates of the land and the elite of the city, I performed

the part of Brutus to the Cassius of my old school-fellow, Washington

Custis.”

The theatre was by no means the only show that appealed to Washington.

He went to the circus when opportunity offered, gave nine shillings to

a “man who brought an elk as a show,” three shillings and ninepence “to

hear the Armonica,” two dollars for tickets “to see the automatum,”

treated the “Ladies to ye Microcosm” and paid to see waxworks, puppet

shows, a dancing bear, and a lioness and tiger. Nor did he avoid a

favorite Virginia pastime, but attended cockfights when able. His

frequent going to concerts has been already mentioned.

Washington seems to have been little of a reader except of books on

agriculture, which he bought, read, and even made careful abstracts of

many, and on this subject alone did he ever seem to write from

pleasure. As a lad, he notes in his journal that he is reading _The

Spectator_ and a history of England, but after those two brief entries

there is no further mention of books or reading in his daily memorandum

of “where and how my time is spent.” In his ledger, too, almost the

least common expenditure entered is one for books. Nor do his London

invoices, so far as extant, order any books but those which treated of

farming and horses. In the settlement of the Custis estate, “I had no

particular reason for keeping and handing down to his son, the books of

the late Colo Custis saving that I thought it would be taking the

advantage of a low appraisement, to make them my own property at it,

and that to sell them was not an object.”

With the broadening that resulted from the command of the army more

attention was paid to books, and immediately upon the close of the

Revolution Washington ordered the following works: “Life of Charles the

Twelfth,” “Life of Louis the Fifteenth,” “Life and Reign of Peter the

Great,” Robertson’s “History of America,” Voltaire’s “Letters,”

Vertot’s “Revolution of Rome” and “Revolution of Portugal,” “Life of

Gustavus Adolphus,” Sully’s “Memoirs,” Goldsmith’s “Natural History,”

“Campaigns of Marshal Turenne,” Chambaud’s “French and English

Dictionary,” Locke “on the Human Understanding,” and Robertson’s

“Charles the Fifth.” From this time on he was a fairly constant

book-buyer, and subscribed as a “patron” to a good many forthcoming

works, while many were sent him as gifts. On politics he seems to have

now read with interest; yet in 1797, after his retirement from the

Presidency, in writing of the manner in which he spent his hours, he

said, “it may strike you that in this detail no mention is made of any

portion of time allotted to reading. The remark would be just, for I

have not looked into a book since I came home, nor shall I be able to

do it until I have discharged my workmen; probably not before the

nights grow long when possibly I may be looking into Doomsday book.”

There can be no doubt that through all his life Washington gave to

reading only the time he could not use on more practical affairs.

His library was a curious medley of books, if those on military science

and agriculture are omitted. There is a fair amount of the standard

history of the day, a little theology, so ill assorted as to suggest

gifts rather than purchases, a miscellany of contemporary politics, and

a very little belles-lettres. In political science the only works in

the slightest degree noticeable are Smith’s “Wealth of Nations,” “The

Federalist,” and Rousseau’s “Social Compact,” and, as the latter was in

French, it could not have been read. In lighter literature Homer,

Shakespeare, and Burns, Lord Chesterfield, Swift, Smollett, Fielding,

and Sterne, and “Don Quixote,” are the only ones deserving notice. It

is worthy of mention that Washington’s favorite quotation was Addison’s

“’Tis not in mortals to command success,” but he also utilized with

considerable aptitude quotations from Shakespeare and Sterne. There

were half a dozen of the ephemeral novels of the day, but these were

probably Mrs. Washington’s, as her name is written in one, and her

husband’s in none. Writing to his grandson, Washington warned him that

“light reading (by this, I mean books of little importance) may amuse

for the moment, but leaves nothing solid behind.”

[Illustration: WASHINGTON’S BOOK-PLATE]

One element of Washington’s reading which cannot be passed over without

notice is that of newspapers. In his early life he presumably read the

only local paper of the time (the _Virginia Gazette_), for when an

anonymous writer, “Centinel,” in 1756, charged that Washington’s

regiment was given over to drunkenness and other misbehavior, he drew

up a reply, which he sent with ten shillings to the newspaper, but the

printer apparently declined to print it, for it never appeared.

After the Revolution he complained to his Philadelphia agent, “I have

such a number of Gazettes, crowded upon me (many without orders) that

they are not only expensive, but really useless; as my other avocations

will not afford me time to read them oftentimes, and when I do attempt

it, find them more troublesome, than profitable; I have therefore to

beg, if you Should get Money into your hands on Acct of the Inclosed

Certificate, that you would be so good as to pay what I am owing to

Messrs Dunlap & Claypoole, Mr. Oswald & Mr. Humphrey’s. If they

consider me however as engaged for the year, I am Content to let the

matter run on to the Expiration of it” During the Presidency he

subscribed to the _Gazette of the United States_, Brown’s _Gazette_,

Dunlap’s _American Advertiser_, the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, Bache’s

_Aurora_, and the _New York Magazine_, Carey’s _Museum_, and the

_Universal Asylum_, though at this time he “lamented that the editors

of the different gazettes in the Union do not more generally and more

correctly (instead of stuffing their papers with scurrility and

nonsensical declamation, which few would read if they were apprised of

the contents,) publish the debates in Congress on all great national

questions.”

Presently, for personal and party reasons, certain of the papers began

to attack him, and Jefferson wrote to Madison that the President was

“extremely affected by the attacks made and kept up on him in the

public papers. I think he feels these things more than any person I

ever met with.” Later the Secretary of State noted that at an interview

Washington “adverted to a piece in Freneau’s paper of yesterday, he

said that he despised all their attacks on him personally, but that

there never had been an act of government … that paper had not abused …

He was evidently sore and warm.” At a cabinet meeting, too, according

to the same writer, “the Presidt was much inflamed, got into one of

those passions when he cannot command himself, ran on much on the

personal abuse which had been bestowed on him, defied any man on earth

to produce a single act of his since he had been in the govmt which was

not done on the purest motives, that he had never repented but once the

having slipped the moment of resigning his office, & that was every

moment since, that _by god_ he had rather be in his grave than in his

present situation. That he had rather be on his farm than to be made

_emperor of the world_ and yet that they were charging him with wanting

to be a king. That that _rascal Freneau_ sent him 3 of his papers every

day, as if he thought he would become the distributor of his papers,

that he could see in this nothing but an impudent design to insult him.

He ended in this high tone. There was a pause.”

To correspondents, too, Washington showed how keenly he felt the

attacks upon him, writing that “the publications in Freneau’s and

Bache’s papers are outrages on common decency; and they progress in

that style in proportion as their pieces are treated with contempt, and

are passed by in silence, by those at whom they are aimed,” and asked

“in what will this abuse terminate? The result, as it respects myself,

I care not; for I have consolation within, that no earthly efforts can

deprive me of, and that is, that neither ambitious nor interested

motives have influenced my conduct. The arrows of malevolence,

therefore however barbed and well pointed, never can reach the most

vulnerable part of me; though, whilst I am _up_ as a _mark_, they will

be continually aimed.”

On another occasion he said, “I am beginning to receive, what I had

made my mind up for on this occasion, the abuse of Mr. Bache, and his

correspondents.” He wrote a friend, “if you read the Aurora of this

city, or those gazettes, which are under the same influence, you cannot

but have perceived with what malignant industry and persevering

falsehoods I am assailed, in order to weaken if not destroy the

confidence of the public.”

When he retired from office he apparently cut off his subscriptions to

papers, for a few months later he inquired, “what is the character of

Porcupine’s Gazette? I had thought when I left Philadelphia, of

ordering it to be sent to me; then again, I thought it best not to do

it; and altho’ I should like to see both his and Bache’s, the latter

may, under all circumstances, be the best decision; I mean not

subscribing to either of them.” This decision to have no more to do

with papers did not last, for on the night he was seized with his last

illness Lear describes how “in the evening the papers having come from

the post office, he sat in the room with Mrs. Washington and myself,

reading them, till about nine o’clock when Mrs. Washington went up into

Mrs. Lewis’s room, who was confined, and left the General and myself

reading the papers. He was very cheerful; and, when he met with

anything which he thought diverting or interesting, he would read it

aloud as well as his hoarseness would permit. He desired me to read to

him the debates of the Virginia Assembly, on the election of a Senator

and Governor; which I did—and, on hearing Mr. Madison’s observations

respecting Mr. Monroe, he appeared much affected, and spoke with some

degree of asperity on the subject, which I endeavored to moderate, as I

always did on such occasions.”

IX

FRIENDS

The frequently repeated statement that Washington was a man without

friends is not the least curious of the myths that have obtained

general credence. That it should be asserted only goes to show how

absolutely his private life has been neglected in the study of his

public career.

In his will Washington left tokens of remembrance “to the acquaintances

and friends of my juvenile years, Lawrence Washington and Robert

Washington of Chotanck,” the latter presumably the “dear Robin” of his

earliest letter, and these two very distant kinsmen, whom he had come

to know while staying at Wakefield, are the earliest friends of whom

any record exists. Contemporary with them was a “Dear Richard,” whose

letters gave Washington “unspeakable pleasure, as I am convinced I am

still in the memory of so worthy a friend,—a friendship I shall ever be

proud of increasing.”

Next in time came his intimacy with the Fairfaxes and Carlyles, which

began with Washington’s visits to his brother Lawrence at Mount Vernon.

About four miles from that place, at Belvoir, lived the Fairfaxes; and

their kinspeople, the Carlyles, lived at Alexandria. Lawrence

Washington had married Ann Fairfax, and through his influence his

brother George was taken into the employment of Lord Fairfax, half as

clerk and half as surveyor of his great tract of land, “the northern

neck,” which he had obtained by marriage with a daughter of Lord

Culpeper, who in turn had obtained it from the “Merrie Monarch” by

means so disreputable that they are best left unstated. From that time

till his death Washington corresponded with several of the family and

was a constant visitor at Belvoir, as the Fairfaxes were at Mount

Vernon.

[Illustration: SURVEY OF WASHINGTON’S BIRTHPLACE (WAKEFIELD), 1743]

In 1755 Washington told his brother that “to that family I am under

many obligations, particularly the old gentleman,” but as time went on

he more than paid the debt. In 1757 he acted as pallbearer to William

Fairfax, and twelve years later his diary records, “Set off with Mrs.

Washington and Patsey,… in order to stand for Mr. B. Fairfax’s third

son, which I did together with my wife, Mr. Warner Washington and his

lady.” For one of the family he obtained an army commission, and for

another he undertook the care of his property during a visit to

England; a care which unexpectedly lengthened, and was resigned only

when Washington’s time became public property. Nor did that lessen his

services or the Fairfaxes’ need of them, for in the Revolution that

family were loyalists. Despite this, “the friendship,” Washington

assured them, “which I ever professed and felt for you, met no

diminution from the difference in our political sentiments,” and in

1778 he was able to secure the safety of Lord Fairfax from persecution

at the hands of the Whigs, a service acknowledged by his lordship in

the following words: