MARTHA CUSTIS’ STORY
Many eager eyes opened the following morning to a dismal sight. Rain
fell as if it meant to wash away everything on top of the earth. It
continued to rain all morning, and it thus behooved the ladies to
provide amusement indoors for the active children.
“I think I will read another chapter of Washington’s life,” suggested
Mrs. Parke.
“Read a quiet, uneventful chapter,” hinted Mrs. Davis.
“Read about the battle of Bunker Hill!” cried George.
“On a dreary day like this we ought to read about the dying of the first
child of Martha Custis and then later, the death-bed scene of Colonel
Custis. Then we can fill in time with reading of Mrs. Custis’ life with
her two remaining children after she was widowed,” ventured Mrs. Parke.
But the objections violently raised against such mournful readings, soon
quieted both ladies and led them to see the wisdom of a more active tale
for that day.
“If you do not care to hear me read of Martha Custis’ bereavement
perhaps you will like to hear of her second marriage?” said Mrs. Parke,
turning over the pages of the book slowly.
“Oh, aunty, do tell us how Washington met Martha Custis and fell in
love!” sighed Anne, the sentimental one of the group.
“If the boys will keep quiet I will read that chapter, and then you
girls must promise to listen to a battle scene which I will read to
them.”
They all promised to be model listeners, so Mrs. Parke began:
“‘In the month of May, 1758, Washington journeyed from Fort Loudoun to
Williamsburg, and in the course of travelling, he first met Martha
Custis, the fair widow who was later to be his wife.
“‘The Virginia regiment had great need of necessities, so Washington was
sent with dispatches to urge and explain to the Council and Assembly the
imperative need of fitting the regiment properly before sending it to
the capture of Fort Duquesne.
“‘So George Washington, riding the magnificent horse bequeathed him by
Braddock, and accompanied by his servant also acquired in the same
manner, was passing the county of New Kent, Virginia, when he met an
elderly gentleman riding and looking about as if familiar with the
scenery.
“‘Both riders halted, saluted and then rode on together. As they
approached the avenue leading to a stately mansion, the elder man placed
a detaining hand on the reins, and said:
“‘“Colonel, let it never be said that you passed the house of your
father’s old friend without dismounting.”
“‘“But, my dear sir, I ride in haste to bear letters to our Governor in
Williamsburg,” objected Washington.
“‘“Nevertheless, my dear colonel, you will dine with me, and borrow some
of the fine moonlight to show you the way to the Governor. You will
reach Williamsburg ere break of day.”
“‘“Do you promise to excuse me immediately after dinner?” asked
Washington.
“‘“With all the promptness of military discipline!” agreed the host.
“‘Thus the young and gallant colonel resigned the reins of his spirited
horse to Bishop, the English servant, with orders for him to be ready to
pursue the journey the moment he, Washington, came forth.
“‘The name and fame of the young colonel was dear to all Virginians, and
the moment the family of the courteous Chamberlayne heard of the arrival
of the military guest, each and every one vied to make it a delightful
evening.
“‘When Washington was introduced to the guests at dinner and he first
met Widow Custis, he was fascinated by her. Both were mutually pleased
with each other, nor is this strange. The lady was fair to behold, of
gracious manners, and well-endowed with worldly benefits. The hero,
famous, and with a form fit for the gods, was just the man to impress
this lady.
“‘The morning passed, dinner was concluded, and evening came, while
Bishop, true to orders, stood at his post holding the charger which
champed at the bit and tossed his mane impatiently.
“‘The sun sank and yet the colonel appeared not. The old and
well-trained servant wondered, for his master was never late or behind
in his appointments.
“‘Meantime, the host smiled at the scene of the old veteran on duty at
the gate while the young colonel was completely entangled with the
graces of the fair widow in the parlor of the mansion.
“‘After sunset, Chamberlayne declared that no guest ever left his
hospitality at dark, so Washington was easily persuaded to remain over
night. Bishop was told to put up the horses for the night and partake of
much-needed refreshment in the servants’ hall.
“‘That night, the conversation, the manners, the appearance and the
reputation of the colonel, impressed the fair widow Custis as no
ordinary mortal had done before.
“‘As the enamored soldier sought again and again the side of the lady
who had taken his heart by storm, he felt that fate had at last been
kind to him, could he win with what he had to offer.
“‘The sun rode high in the heavens the following day ere Washington
mounted for the continuance of the journey. And arrived at Williamsburg
to deliver the messages, he tarried but a brief time. Retracing his
steps with haste, the ardent colonel again stopped at the home of
Chamberlayne.
“‘Becoming a frequent visitor at the home of the late Colonel Custis, he
laid siege to the heart and hand of the widow, till she capitulated.
“‘Then there were eager and happy preparations at the White House, the
home of Mrs. Custis, for the approaching bridal. Rare indeed was the
revelry at that wedding feast in the palmy days of Virginia’s festal
age.
“‘The good, the great, the gifted and the gay were assembled at that
nuptial ceremony, but of all the grand gentlemen gathered there, not one
could aspire to the manners and appearance of the groom himself.
“‘The bride, well-formed, somewhat below the medium size of a woman, was
in the bloom of life, handsome, winsome and aristocratic in every way.
She had perfect taste in matters regarding the toilette, and was always
suitably gowned.
“‘It is recorded that the ceremony took place at the old St. Peter’s
Church near the White House. Imagination will better picture this scene
of pomp and splendor of the times. The reader can then behold the
fairest of Virginia’s daughters arrayed in superb brocades, costly
laces, and sparkling jewels supplied by the Old World; and gallant
cavaliers in the elaborate and elegant costumes of the time, attending
the ladies through the brilliant apartments to the bountiful board in
the dining-hall, where glittering with massive plate, loaded with rich
viands, old wines, and delicate conserves, the friendly words, merry
laughs and witty repartee but enhanced the loveliness of the happy
bride, and the triumphant rapture of the love-crowned hero-soldier.
“‘Soon after the marriage, Colonel and Mrs. Washington removed from the
White House to Mount Vernon which was henceforth to be the permanent
family residence.
“‘The life of Martha Washington thereafter became a part of the history
of her country. She entered into the plans and confidences of her
husband, and in every way proved the helpmeet for such a noble and great
man.
“‘Mrs. Washington was an early riser at all seasons of the year, and
after breakfast always repaired for an hour to her chamber where she
read from the Bible and prayed, and this practice was never omitted
during the half century of her varied life.
“‘In the papers and correspondence left by Colonel Washington it appears
that his efforts too, were to augment the comforts and happiness of his
home, and everything that could be done for the fair and gentle lady of
his heart was accomplished.
“‘It must be remembered that at this period of time, everything in the
way of luxury, and even many articles of household necessity, were
imported from Europe, and were possible only to the wealthy. Even the
clothing and many kinds of food were ordered twice a year by Washington
from his English agents.
“‘The affairs of John and Patsy Custis, his stepchildren, were ordered
with the utmost care and precision, and reports made and forwarded
regularly to the English firm of Robert Gary & Co.
“‘After her removal to Mt. Vernon, Mrs. Washington often accompanied her
husband on his official visits to Williamsburg, but her greatest joy was
the time passed at home with the congenial work and pleasures of a wife
and mother.
“‘At this time, the pursuits of Colonel Washington were those of a
retired farmer, yet the social intercourse with people of refinement and
position was continued, and a large circle of agreeable and intelligent
friends could generally be found enjoying the hospitality of this
generous and delightful couple.
“‘But the melancholy event of the passing away of the gifted and
favored young daughter from the home of the Washingtons suddenly
bereft the family of joy and gladness. The brother, who had walked
hand in hand with his beloved sister in all the years of childhood, was
grief-stricken beyond words. The mother, who had tenderly watched and
planned over the child of many hopes, found her sole help in prayer and
reading of her Bible. And the stepfather, as fond of the children as
their own father could have been, found solace in work and study.’”
As Mrs. Parke reached this serious part of the history, George sighed
loudly. His mother glanced up from the book and he took it for granted
that he might speak.
“Don’t you think the girls have had their share for this time?—It’s been
all love-making and marrying and funerals! Not a word about Indians or
about war.”
“I was just coming to a part of Washington’s life, where it describes
his fifteen years of life on his farm, and his membership on the
Virginia House of Burgesses,” ventured Mrs. Parke.
“Oh, good gracious! Please don’t give us any more of his quiet life
to-day. Look at the way that rain spatters on the windows, and then stop
to think how we feel with Washington parading out of a book while he’s
planting or hoeing his farm! Give us a fight!” declared George.
Every one laughed and Jack seconded his cousin’s plan for a more active
story than the one that had just been read.
“If you insist upon having war when there was no war, I must skip the
fifteen years of quiet life on his estate, to get Washington in the
midst of fresh battle scenes,” argued Mrs. Parke.
“Why not read us about the Boston Tea Party?” said Anne.
“That will satisfy the boys and interest us girls, too,” added Martha.
Without further remonstrance, Mrs. Parke turned back to the chapter
desired and began reading.
“‘During the years between 1765 and 1775, the cry of “Liberty, Property,
No Stamps!” sounded from New Hampshire to Georgia. Even when the act—all
except the tax on tea—was repealed, the populace concentrated its wrath
on tea as the symbol of an intolerable sovereignty which would no longer
be endured.
“‘It was but a little more than two years from the time of the first
whiff of the delightful beverage, to the time when millions of
teakettles steamed merrily on millions of hearths, and the consumption
of tea reached more than 5,000,000 pounds a year. Tea houses had sprung
up like mushrooms all over the United Kingdom of Great Britain, and of
the 5,000,000 pounds imported from China, at least 1,500,000 pounds were
sent to the American colonies.
“‘Tea, in short, formed a harmless luxury indulged in by the thousands
who, despite the high price and tax, contrived to have it for a
delectable drink of an evening when company had to be entertained. Or
again it was enjoyed by many as a beverage not willingly sacrificed.
“‘But the harmless drink now started the just and patriotic people to
revolt against the tyranny of the Crown. For the next three years after
England imposed the high tax on tea, it became the symbol with which men
conjured. As for trying to ship tea from England at this time, one would
as soon have introduced the Black Plague.
“‘So the contention went on—England remaining proud and defiant in her
attitude that British sovereignty must never yield, and the young
American colony holding that a great principle underlay the act—that
freemen should only be taxed by a representative. And during this time
seventeen million pounds of tea had heaped itself in the store-houses of
the East India Company.
“‘The northeastern colonies were strenuous examples of precocious
political development; Massachusetts embraced the vast territory of
Maine, and from this northern boundary to the shore where the Pilgrim
Fathers landed, were dotted the decent little villages, and these buzzed
and hummed with zealous activities of the people.
“‘It had required a hundred and fifty years from the first step of
Plymouth Rock to the beginning of the Revolution. Boston, now a town of
18,000 folk, sent forth a tongue of flame that bespoke defiance to the
mother country across the sea. The highest sense of public duty grew in
these people as weeds flourish in others. What a time that must have
been: Heroes springing up over-night to live forever in the history of
the nation. English spies, traitorous Indians, tea parties and tea-ships
riding the waves of Boston Bay, not dreaming it was the open mouth of
the dragon.
“‘When the _Dartmouth_, the _Eleanor_, and the _Beaver_, therefore,
laden with 342 chests of tea, sailed into Boston harbor, the hitherto
loosely-membered colonies became welded together, for they were
determined to stand together for their principle—Taxation with
Representation. Thus the tea that lay scattered one night on the bosom
of the sea off Boston, was much the same tea that rotted in the cellars
of Charlestown and the South, or mouldered in Philadelphia and New York
stores.
“‘Tea stood for Toryism, and no tea meant Independence. All over the
land activities started up such as were never before heard of. Looms and
spindles whirred as fabrics were woven of home-grown flax and wool, and
material hitherto imported from England now began to be made by the
colonists at home. Even weapons and ammunition began to be spoken of,
and old recipes for manufacturing gunpowder were brought out and
experimented with.
“‘Then the “glove” was dropped and the struggle began.’”