It seemed to George that he had not been in bed an hour before he
heard, in the gray glimmer of dawn, Billy’s voice, crying:
“Chris’mus. Marse George. Chris’mus! an’ jes listen to dem niggers
singin’ under de winder!” Although a sound sleeper, George always
waked quickly, and in an instant he recognized the Christmas melody
that floated upward from the ground outside. A dozen or so of the
field-hands were marching around the house just as the first faint
grayness of the Christmas Day appeared, and singing, in their rich,
sweet, untrained voices, a song with the merry refrain,
“White folks, black folks, Chris’mus am heah,
An’ Chris’mus comes but oncet a year,
An’ dis is Chris’mus mawnin’!”
Sounds showed that the house was stirring. Laurence Washington, as
the master, had to dress and go down-stairs to give the singers the
treat they expected. Betty got up and dressed herself at the first
sound, and, tapping on George’s door, called softly, “Merry Christmas,
George!” Nobody could sleep much after that, and soon after sunrise
everybody was up, and “Merry Christmas” resounded through the whole
house. The negroes were most vociferous, as this was their favorite
holiday, and no work, except the feeding of the stock and the cutting
of wood, was to be done for several days--that is, as long as the back
log on the Christmas fire remained unconsumed. The putting of this log
on the fire was an annual ceremony that George thought most amusing.
The English officers thought so, too, and watched it with the greatest
interest. Before breakfast was served, when all the guests were
assembled in the hall, Uncle Manuel, the butler, who was very tall and
very black, and who wore, on great occasions, a pair of scarlet satin
knee-breeches that had once belonged to Laurence Washington, appeared
and announced, with a condescending smile, that “de boys” had come with
the back log.
Amid much grinning and shoving and jostling and chuckling four stalwart
negro men walked in the house carrying a huge log, which was placed at
the back of the great fireplace, upon the tall iron fire-dogs. It was
of unseasoned black gum, a wood hard to burn at all times, and this
particular log had been well soaked in a neighboring swamp. It was
the privilege of the negroes to select the back log, and although the
masters and mistresses knew perfectly well that everything was done
to make it as non-combustible as possible, the plantation joke was to
pretend that it was as dry as a bone and would burn like tinder.
“We fotch you a mighty fine back lorg dis time, mistis,” grinned the
head man. “Hit gwi’ bu’n same like lightwood.” At which Mrs. Washington
looked grave, as she was expected to look, while a general guffaw went
around among the negroes.
“I ’spect we ain’ gwi’ to have no holiday ’tall ef we has to go ter wuk
as soon as dis heah lorg bu’n up,” chuckled another.
“’Tain’ gwi’ lars’ mo’n fer Christmas Day!”
“I think I saw a black gum log soaking in the swamp a few days ago,”
said Laurence, smiling at the grinning faces before him; but there was
a chorus immediately:
“Naw, suh; dis lorg ain’ never had a drap o’ water on it, an’ we all’s
been dryin’ it fer a whole mont’.” The log was then steaming like
a tea-kettle, and the negroes yah-yahed with delight at the ready
acceptance of their _ruse_.
“Very well, then,” cried Laurence Washington; “you can all have
holiday until this log is burned out, and if I am not mistaken it will
last the week through!”
Immediately after breakfast horses were brought out, and the great
coach, and several gigs and chaises, to take a party to old Pohick
Church. There was to be a service, however, on the _Bellona_, and the
“church flag” was flying from her peak. Admiral Vernon invited George
to go with him on board the ship. They went to the landing, where the
captain’s gig awaited them. On board the _Bellona_, everything was as
clean as hands could make it, the ship was dressed, and the men, being
excused from work that day, were in their Sunday clothes and prepared
for their holiday.
The service, performed by the chaplain, was held upon the gun-deck.
Four hundred sailors, in spotless clothing and each with a sprig of
mistletoe in his glazed hat, were assembled, seated on capstan-bars,
which made improvised benches. In front of them their officers were
assembled, the captain at their head, while in front of the officers
were the admiral and his guests. Never had George seen a more beautiful
and reverent service. The sailors were reminded of their homes in green
England, far away, and every heart was softened by the recollection.
The officers needed no reminder of their families and friends at home,
and all felt drawn together in sympathy at their common separation from
those dearest to them.
After the service the admiral took George over the ship, showing him
all the beauty and strength of her. The boy gazed with wonder and
delight at her trim yards, her immaculate decks, and at the rows of
menacing guns in her batteries. Until then he had strongly inclined to
the army, but in the first flush of his new enthusiasm he longed to be
a naval officer. There were several midshipmen of his own age on board,
to whom the admiral introduced him, and George yearned, boy fashion, to
wear a smart uniform like theirs, and to carry a midshipman’s dirk. He
said little; his enthusiasms were all of that silent kind which burn
the more furiously because their blaze is concealed. But the moment
he reached the house, after leaving the ship, he went straight to his
brother Laurence’s study, and marched in with this bold announcement:
“Brother Laurence, I want to serve in the king’s navy.”
Laurence looked up smiling at George’s earnest face, in which a fixed
purpose was plainly seen.
“I should have preferred the army for you,” responded Laurence. “But if
a youngster _will_ serve in the king’s navy, in the king’s navy he must
serve.”
“And will you get me my warrant?” eagerly asked George.
“The fact is,” continued Laurence, “I have a midshipman’s warrant
offered me for you at this very time. Admiral Vernon has the privilege
of nominating a midshipman on the _Bellona_, and some days ago, in
speaking of your arrival, he asked me, as my old friend, if it would be
agreeable to my family to appoint you in his majesty’s naval service.
I told him I had not yet consulted with Madam Washington, but I had
no doubt whatever that it would be highly agreeable to her, and the
admiral assured me that it would be at my service at any time.”
George stood perfectly breathless with surprise. His first thought was
that surely he was the most fortunate boy in the world. At that moment
there was a knock at the door and Admiral Vernon entered.
“Ah, admiral!” cried Laurence, “you see before you a very happy lad. He
is overjoyed at the notion of entering the naval service.”
“It would be a thousand pities to lose so fine a fellow from the king’s
navy,” said the admiral, smiling. George wished to thank him, but when
he tried to speak he felt a choking sensation, albeit he was so happy.
It was so exactly what he wanted at that very time; and how few there
are who get what they want before the wish for it has departed!
All the rest of that day George felt as if he were walking on air.
He made plans for his whole life ahead, and already saw himself an
admiral. He thought it would not be right to speak of this beautiful
plan for him to any one until his mother knew it, and so he would
give no hint to Betty, or even tell it, as he longed to do, to Billy.
But when in his room in the afternoon, before the Christmas dinner,
Rattler jumped upon him and licked his hands, George could not forbear
whispering to him: “Good dog, your master will soon be a midshipman!”
He had gone to his room to carry out his intention of reading every day
something out of a useful book; but his heart was too full to read, and
his book lay unopened while he sat before the fire in a happy dream,
slowly passing Rattler’s silky ears through his hand. From his chair he
could see through his window the handsome frigate lying motionless in
the stream. Some of the men were dancing on the fok’sle to the sound
of a fiddle and tambour played by two of the crew. In George’s eyes,
infatuated as he was with the navy, she was the stateliest beauty
of a ship he had ever seen, and he thought every man on her must be
altogether happy.
At five o’clock there was a grand Christmas dinner. The ladies wore
their gayest gowns, the officers were in full uniform, and the other
gentlemen present were in all the splendor of velvet coats and breeches
and ruffled shirts. There was much laughter and many toasts, and at the
end of the dinner Uncle Manuel, gorgeous in his scarlet silk breeches,
entered, bearing aloft, on a huge platter, a plum-pudding blazing with
blue flames, and with sprigs of mistletoe stuck in it. Afterwards, in
the hall, came off the ceremony of placing the branch of mistletoe on
the lantern that hung from the ceiling. Then there was great jollity
and a merry scramble, for, according to the hearty custom of the time,
any lady caught under the mistletoe could be kissed by any gentleman
who caught her. George and William Fairfax secretly longed to act
the mannish part and join in the sport, but both felt quite overcome
with bashfulness at the idea, and only watched the gay doings from
afar. Not so Betty, who quite assumed the young lady, and who not only
treated William Fairfax as if he had been an infant, but gave herself
lofty airs towards George, whom she had heretofore regarded with the
greatest respect. Then, soon after dark, the coaches of the neighboring
gentry drove up with the guests. In the hall the negro fiddlers were
in great force, and sawed the air from eight o’clock in the evening
until daylight next morning. Besides the minuet and rigadoon there
were jigs and reels, and at last everybody, young and old, danced Sir
Roger de Coverley, while the candles sputtered in their sockets and
the chickens crowed outside. George danced all night with the greatest
enjoyment, not finding any difficulty in obtaining partners, all of the
ladies being willing to dance with so handsome a stripling. Among the
guests who came from a distance was a remarkably pretty young girl of
about George’s age, Miss Martha Dandridge. With her George danced Sir
Roger de Coverley, going down the middle swinging partners, and making
the grand march to the music of the crashing fiddles and dancing feet.
When at last it was over, and in the gray dawn the coaches and chaises
rattled off, and the ball was over, George thought it was the finest
ball he had ever seen in his life.
[Illustration: “SHE WAS THE STATELIEST BEAUTY OF A SHIP HE HAD EVER
SEEN”]
For a week gayety and jollity prevailed at Mount Vernon. There were
fox-hunts, when the huntsmen assembled by daybreak, and the winding
of the horns, and the hounds with tongues tuned like bells, echoed
across the river and among the hills; and after a day’s hard riding
there would be a jolly dinner and dancing afterwards. Then there was
a great party aboard of the _Bellona_, where the decorations were all
of flags and warlike emblems. George’s enthusiasm for the navy did not
decrease in the least, but rather gained by being in company with so
many officers, and feeling obliged to keep his delightful secret of a
promised commission to himself. He became friends with the midshipmen,
and in his heart he enjoyed more his visits to the cockpit, with all
its discomforts, than the luxury of the admiral’s cabin and the comfort
of the wardroom. He was never weary of listening to the officers
telling of their adventures; and his expressive young face, with the
blood coming and going like a girl’s, showed his overpowering interest
in what he heard. No real doubt of his mother’s consent entered his
mind; and if the thought occasionally crossed him that her consent must
be asked and might not be given, he dismissed it, as all young and
ardent natures dismiss unpleasant possibilities.
Among the quieter pleasures which he had at this time was that of
making friends with little Mildred, the two-year-old daughter to which
his brother and sister were so devoted. They had lost three other
children; and in a time of the utmost sadness after their deaths, when
Laurence Washington realized his own delicate constitution, and the
chances that none of his children might live, he had made his will,
giving Mount Vernon and all he had, if he should leave no children, to
George. But this little one bade fair to grow up into a healthy and
happy child.
Betty, who was by nature a little mother, was never more at home than
when she had charge of the child, and could take as good care of her
as any grown person. George, on the contrary, although his heart went
out to the little girl, regarded her as a piece of china that might be
broken by touching her. But Mildred took a violent fancy to him, and
was never so happy as when carried about in his strong young arms, or
sitting on his knee while he made rabbits out of his handkerchief and
pictures out of the shadows on the wall, and was ready to do anything
and to give her anything that would amuse her. He had never been thrown
with a child of that age before, and regarded every instance of her
baby cleverness as the most extraordinary thing in the world, to the
amusement of his brother and sister.
The year before George had found William Fairfax a delightful boyish
companion, but this year, with his new experiences, and the company of
the young officers on the _Bellona_, George unconsciously neglected
him. But William, who had a sweet and forgiving nature, showed no
ill-humor over it, and said to himself: “Never mind; when the ship goes
away, and all the visitors, George will again find me good company.”
And such was the case. On the morning that the _Bellona_ loosed her
top-sail, as a sign that she was about to trip her anchor, George
felt utterly forlorn. He wondered how he should get through the time
until he could go to Ferry Farm and, securing his mother’s consent,
join the ship before she sailed from the Chesapeake. So eager was he
that Laurence, in the goodness of his heart, had ordered, at his own
expense, George’s uniforms to be made in Alexandria, and he was given
his side-arms from the stores on board the _Bellona_. George in fancy
already saw himself Midshipman Washington. Admiral Vernon, on parting,
had said some kind words to him which sank deep in his heart. “I shall
look forward with pleasure to your joining, Mr. Washington,” he said.
“It is just such youngsters as you that we want in the navy.” George
thanked him with shining eyes.
On a bleak January day the _Bellona_ went out. George watched from the
shore as long as he could see her, and sighed as he turned back to the
house. On his way back he was joined by William Fairfax.
“George,” said William, diffidently, “I am afraid we are not as good
friends as we were last year.”
“Why?” asked George, in surprise. He had almost forgotten William’s
existence in the last few busy and exciting days, and he had felt
so immeasurably older than he that companionship seemed out of the
question.
“Because,” said William, “you do not seem to care for my company any
longer.”
George stopped, and his heart and his conscience smote him. William was
his sister’s cousin and his brother’s guest, and he had been neglected
by both George and Betty; for Betty had grown about ten years, in her
own estimation, since dancing with officers and being allowed to come
to the first table. George thought this rather ridiculous of Betty; but
was it not equally ridiculous of him to lord it over William, as if
there were twenty years between them, instead of William being actually
older than he?
“I see how it is, William,” said George, after a pause. “I dare say I
have often made a fool of myself in this last week, talking to men as
if I were their equal, and to boys of my own age as if I were a man.
But, although you may laugh at me, I do feel a great deal older in
the last two months--I suppose because I have been with men like Lord
Fairfax and Lance, and then Admiral Vernon and his officers. But if you
will be friends again with me I will promise not to treat you as I have
done, and I acknowledge it was not very gentlemanly of me.”
William was of too gentle a nature to resist this, and the two boys in
five minutes were as good friends as ever. George recalled how silently
William had borne neglect, how ready he had been to be friends again,
and he wondered if he himself had so much generosity.
The house seemed strangely quiet after all the company had left, and
there were no more routs and balls and romping and hunting. Snow had
fallen, and George and Betty were waiting for good weather before
attempting the journey back to Ferry Farm. George spoke to Betty about
William, acknowledging that he had been as much to blame as she; and
Betty, being of a generous nature, felt ashamed of herself, with the
result that William enjoyed the latter part of the time much more
than the first. But he was destined to have one more clash with George
before their friendship became so firmly cemented that it lasted during
the whole of their lives.