_The Warrior, the Statesman, and the Planter._
Political Views of Washington--Lord Fairfax--Greenway
Court--Panic at Winchester--Raids of the Savages--Policy
of the British Government--Trials of Washington--The
Ministry of Pitt--The New Route--Scarvoyadi the Chief--The
Rendezvous at Winchester--Washington meets Martha Custis--The
Result--Washington elected to the House of Burgesses--Opening
the New Route--Recklessness of Major Grant--The Disaster--The
Melancholy March--The Fort Abandoned and Destroyed--The
Return--Splendors of Mount Vernon.
The remonstrances of Washington against the folly of cutting a new road
were unavailing. As we have mentioned, the people were not in sympathy
with these war measures. They were unwilling to enlist, and still more
unwilling to furnish supplies. Washington, at this period of his life,
had very high notions of military authority. He was then by no means
a democrat, and not even a republican. In his view, it was the duty
of the people to obey the orders of the court, not to question them.
He was compelled to impress both wagons and wagoners. They could be
obtained in no other way. In his indignation he wrote:
“No orders are obeyed but such as a party of soldiers or my own drawn
sword enforces. Without this, not a single horse, for the most earnest
occasion, can be had; to such a pitch has the insolence of this people
arrived, by having every point hitherto submitted to them. However, I
have given up none, where his majesty’s service requires the contrary,
and where my proceedings are justified by my instructions; nor will I,
unless they execute what they threaten, and blow out our brains.”[45]
[Illustration: WASHINGTON’S HEAD-QUARTERS AT NEWBURGH.]
Washington was at Winchester, gathering troops for the new expedition.
The savages were ravaging the frontier, murdering travellers, burning
farm-houses, butchering and scalping the inhabitants. They had even
crossed the western ridge of the Alleghanies and penetrated the valley
of the Shenandoah. Even the baronial home of Lord Fairfax was menaced
by them. Greenway Court, as his stately mansion was called, was
surrounded by the majestic forest, where the savages, in large numbers,
could gather unseen. The scalp of his lordship would be considered by
them an inestimable trophy. His friends urged that he should abandon
the place and take refuge in some of the lower settlements. The British
nobleman, with spirit characteristic of his race, replied to his
nephew, Colonel Martin, who was urging this measure:
“I am an old man, and it is of but little importance whether I fall by
the tomahawk or die of disease and old age. But you are young, and, it
is to be hoped, have many years before you; therefore decide for us
both. My only fear is that, if we retire, the whole district will break
up and take to flight; and the fine country, which I have been at such
cost and trouble to improve, will again become a wilderness.”
It was decided to remain, and convert Greenway Court into a sort of
fortress, garrisoned by the slaves of Lord Fairfax, and his numerous
other retainers. Aid could also be speedily summoned from Winchester.
Washington, at Winchester, organized a band of Americans familiar
with forest life, and explored the hiding places in the mountains and
valleys in search of the prowling bands of savages.
The panic at Winchester was dreadful. Every hour brought its tale of
horror. Only twenty miles from the town, in the Warm Spring Mountain,
a scouting party of the English was attacked by the savages, all on
horseback. The captain and several of the soldiers were shot down.
The rest were put to flight by the victorious Indians. It was daily
expected that the town would be attacked. All looked to Washington as
their only protector. The consternation of the women was dreadful.
They came to him, with their children in their arms, and implored him
to save them from the savages. The heart of Washington was often wrung
with anguish. He wrote to Governor Dinwiddie:
“I am too little acquainted with pathetic language to attempt a
description of this people’s distress. But what can I do? I see their
situation. I know their danger and participate their sufferings,
without having it in my power to give them further relief than
uncertain promises.
“The supplicating tears of the women, and petitions of the men, melt
me into such deadly sorrow that I solemnly declare, if I know my own
mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy,
provided that would contribute to the people’s ease.”
Washington himself was bitterly assailed. Every outrage inflicted by
the Indians was charged to his neglect or incompetency. His sensitive
nature was stung to the quick. His situation was indeed deplorable. He
derived neither honor nor emolument from his command. He was shut up
in a frontier town, surrounded by savage hordes, whose ravages his
feeble band could by no means arrest. He declared that nothing but the
imminent danger of the times prevented him from resigning his command.
His friend Mr. Robinson, Speaker of the House of Burgesses, wrote to
him:
“Our hopes, dear George, are all fixed on you, for bringing our affairs
to a happy issue. Consider what fatal consequences to your country your
resigning the command, at this time, may be; especially as there is no
doubt most of the officers will follow your example.”
The House of Burgesses was in favor of the policy of erecting a chain
of frontier forts to extend a distance of about four hundred miles,
through the solitudes of the Alleghany mountains, from the Potomac to
the borders of North Carolina.
Washington considered this measure quite injudicious. To render it of
any avail, it would be necessary that the forts should be within about
fifteen miles of each other, so that the intervening country could
be daily explored. Otherwise the Indians would rush between, and,
having effected their ravages would escape back to the forest where
pursuit would be fruitless. The forts would have to be very strongly
garrisoned, for French artillery could be brought against them, and
almost any number of savage warriors. The cost of rearing so many
forts would be immense. They could not be suitably garrisoned by less
than two thousand men. Washington, therefore, proposed that, instead
of this series of forts, there should be a strong central fortress
at Winchester, and three or four large fortresses, at convenient
distances on the frontier, from which parties could easily explore the
surrounding country. He also made many other suggestions of reform in
the military service, which developed, thus early, the sagacity and
forethought which so signally characterized him in future life. Many
of the suggestions of Washington, Governor Dinwiddie rejected. But the
central fortress at Winchester and the frontier posts were reared.
The repeated inroads of the savages had driven nearly all the
inhabitants out of the beautiful valley of the Shenandoah. The woes
which these poor fugitives endured cannot well be imagined. It was the
object of the British government, not only to expel the French from
the valley of the Ohio, but also from the valley of the St. Lawrence.
The necessity of collecting troops from Pennsylvania and Virginia,
to attack the French in Canada, greatly weakened the power of the
Americans in the more southern States, to protect their homes.
Every man who attains celebrity pays a heavy price for the attainment.
Washington, in one of his hours of anguish, when he was thwarted in
his most important plans, and assailed by a constant torrent of abuse,
wrote, in reference to a very unwelcome order he had received:
“The late order reverses, confuses, and incommodes everything; to say
nothing of the extraordinary expense of carriage, disappointments,
losses, and alterations which must fall heavily upon the country.
Whence it arises, or why, I am truly ignorant. But my strongest
representations of matters relative to the peace of the frontiers are
disregarded as idle and frivolous; my propositions and measures as
partial and selfish; and all my sincerest endeavors, for the service of
my country, are perverted to the worst purposes. My orders are dark,
doubtful, uncertain; to-day approved, to-morrow condemned.
“Left to act and proceed at hazard, accountable for the consequences,
and blamed without the benefit of defence, if you can think my
situation capable of exciting the smallest degree of envy, or affording
the least satisfaction, the truth is yet hidden from you, and you
entertain notions very different from the case.”[46]
Care, exposure, and sorrow threw Washington into a burning fever. He
retired to Mount Vernon, where he was reduced very low, and four months
passed away before he was able to resume his command. This was on the
1st of March, 1758.
Much to the relief of Washington, Governor Dinwiddie, in January, had
sailed for England. The Earl of Loudon succeeded him. But, busily
engaged in organizing an expedition for the invasion of Canada, the
earl did not immediately enter upon the duties of his office in
Virginia. William Pitt was now prime minister of Great Britain.
As one of his first measures, in the year 1758 a strong expedition
was organized, consisting of six thousand men, to march against Fort
Duquesne. General Forbes was appointed to the command of the whole
force. Virginia raised two thousand troops. These were divided into
two regiments. Washington, who had been appointed by the Assembly,
commander-in-chief of all the Virginia troops, was also colonel of
the first regiment. Colonel Byrd led the second. Colonel Bouquet, in
command of the British regulars, was in the advance, marshalling his
forces in the centre of Pennsylvania.
Early in July, Washington, with his troops, marching from Winchester,
reached Fort Cumberland. Two of his companies he dressed in Indian
costume. To Colonel Bouquet he wrote:
“My men are bare of regimental clothing, and I have no prospect of
supply. So far from regretting this want, during the present campaign,
if I were 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 the first to set the example myself. Nothing but the
uncertainty of obtaining the general approbation causes me to hesitate
a moment to leave my regimentals in this place, and proceed as light
as any Indian in the woods. It is an unbecoming dress, I own; but
convenience rather than show, I think, should be consulted.”
Notwithstanding the earnest remonstrances of Washington, it was decided
to cross the mountains by a new route. With immense labor, a road
had been cut for the passage of wagons and artillery, along which
Braddock’s army had passed. Slight repairs would put this road in good
condition. Washington presented an accurate estimate, showing that the
whole army could be at Fort Duquesne in thirty-four days, with a supply
of provisions remaining on hand for eighty-seven days. But Colonel
Bouquet was firm in his resolution to open a new route, from Raystown,
through Pennsylvania. Washington, after an interview with Bouquet,
wrote, on the 2d of August, to a friend, Major Halket:
“I have just returned from a conference with Colonel Bouquet. I find
him fixed--I think I may say unalterably fixed--to lead you a new way
to the Ohio, through a road every inch of which is to be cut, at this
advanced season, when we have scarce time to tread the beaten track,
universally confessed to be the best passage through the mountains.
If Colonel Bouquet succeeds in this point, all is lost--all is lost
indeed. Our enterprise will be ruined, and we shall be stopped at the
Laurel Hill this winter; the southern Indians will turn against us, and
these colonies will be desolated by such an accession to the enemy’s
strength. These must be the consequences of a miscarriage; and a
miscarriage is almost the necessary consequence of an attempt to march
the army by this new route.”
Quite a large band of Indians were engaged as allies of the English on
this expedition. They were led by a very intelligent and distinguished
chief, called Scarvoyadi. There were several tribes who recognized
his chieftainship. They had kept aloof, for some time, from military
alliance with either party. At length, with some hesitancy, they joined
the English. Washington considered the aid of these bold warriors as of
the utmost importance. He knew that they were proud, and would quickly
discern and keenly feel any insult. He therefore urged that they
should be treated with consideration, and that they should be consulted
on important questions.
But the British officers had but very little respect for ignorant
savages. Many of the warriors, disgusted with the long delay,
deliberately shouldered their muskets and marched back through the
wilderness to their homes. They were ready at once to respond to the
invitations of the French, who ever treated them as equals. Scarvoyadi,
who still personally adhered to the English, wrote to the Governor and
Council of Pennsylvania, in reference to the defeat of Braddock, as
follows:
“As to the defeat at the Monongahela, it was owing to the pride and
ignorance of that great general who came from England. He is now dead.
But he was a bad man when he was alive. He looked upon us as dogs.
He would never hear anything we said to him. We often endeavored to
advise him, and tell him of the danger he was in. But he never appeared
pleased with us. That was the reason why a great many of our warriors
left him.”[47]
We have no space here to allude to the great and successful campaign in
the north, against Canada, with which Washington had no connection. But
operations went on very slowly on the frontiers of Virginia. General
Forbes, who was commander-in-chief, was long detained in Philadelphia.
Colonel Bouquet, who was to command the advance, assembled his corps of
British regulars at Raystown, in the heart of Pennsylvania. There were
about three thousand five hundred American troops, Provincials, as they
were called, at other appointed places of rendezvous.
Washington summoned his two regiments of Virginia troops to meet at
Winchester. They numbered about nineteen hundred men. There were also
about seven hundred friendly Indians, who came into his camp, lured by
the high reputation of Washington and the prospect of the plunder of
Fort Duquesne.
But when the American young men, from their scattered farm-houses in
the wilderness, some of them distant two hundred miles, arrived at the
rendezvous, they found themselves destitute of everything needful for
so momentous a campaign. They were in want of horses, arms, ammunition,
tents, field equipage, and almost everything else essential to the
enterprise.
It was necessary for Washington immediately to repair to Williamsburg,
to present the state of the case to the Council. When he reached the
Pamunkey river, where there was no bridge, he was carried across,
with his horse, in a ferry-boat. In the crossing he chanced to meet
a Virginia gentleman of the name of Chamberlain, who was wealthy and
who occupied a mansion in the neighborhood, where he entertained his
distinguished guests with almost baronial hospitality.
He urged Washington so importunately to accompany him to his dwelling,
at least to dine, that Washington, though with great reluctance, as
it might cause the delay of an hour, felt constrained to accept the
invitation. Among the guests at the table was a very beautiful young
widow, by the name of Martha Custis. She was wealthy, and both by birth
and marriage was connected with the most distinguished families in
Virginia.
She was high-bred, accustomed to the most polished society,
intelligent, and very beautiful. Her husband, who had been dead about
three years, had left her with two children and a large fortune.
Washington seemed to be, at first sight, deeply impressed with her
surpassing loveliness and her social and mental attractions. The dinner
hour rapidly passed. The horses, according to appointment, were at the
door. But Washington decided to remain until the next morning. The
afternoon and evening passed rapidly away, and at an early hour the
ensuing day Washington was again in the saddle, endeavoring to make up
for lost time as he urged his steed toward Williamsburg.
The beautiful and opulent widow had many suitors. The somewhat stately
mansion, reared upon her large estate, was known as the White House. It
was situated in New Kent county, not far from Williamsburg. Washington,
apprehensive that he might lose the prize, improved the brief time
which remained to him, to the utmost. The result was that their mutual
faith was soon plighted. The marriage was to take place as soon as the
campaign against Fort Duquesne was at an end.
Washington was continually urging upon the British officers the
necessity of an immediate and vigorous advance. But these men,
though winning the admiration of all by their bravery in the field,
being generally the sons of the nobles, and accustomed to luxurious
indulgence, deemed it necessary to make provisions for their comfort on
the campaign, which, to the hardy Americans, seemed quite preposterous.
The troops became daily more restless and demoralized by the
temptations of an idle camp. The Indians, quite disgusted, in a body
retired.
At length Washington, to his great relief, received orders to repair
to Fort Cumberland. He reached that frontier fort on the 2d of July,
and immediately commenced cutting a road through the forest, a
distance of thirty miles, to Raystown, where Colonel Bouquet was
stationed. Scouting parties of Indians were ranging the woods, firing
upon the workmen, and upon the expresses passing between the posts,
and worrying the laborers in every possible way. Washington succeeded
in engaging the services of a band of Cherokee warriors, whom he sent
out in counter parties against the hostile Indians. Colonel Bouquet
thought that no one but an American could be guilty of the folly of
imagining that Cherokee warriors could, in any emergence, be equal to
British regulars. He insisted that each party should be accompanied by
an English officer and a number of English soldiers. Washington was
annoyed by the encumbrance, but was obliged to yield. He said:
“Small parties of Indians will more effectually harass the enemy, by
keeping them under continual alarms, than any parties of white men can
do. For small parties of the latter are not equal to the task, not
being so dexterous at skulking as the Indians. And large parties will
be discovered by their spies early enough to have a superior force
opposed to them.”[48]
While affairs were moving thus slowly, Washington was quite
enthusiastically chosen, by the electors of Frederick county, as their
representative to the House of Burgesses. On the 21st of July, tidings
arrived of the capture of Louisbourg, and the island of Cape Breton,
by the English. This increased the impatience of Washington to be on
the move. The rumor reached him that Colonel Bouquet intended to send a
body of eight hundred troops in advance toward the fort. He immediately
wrote to the Colonel, entreating that his command might be included in
the detachment.
“If any argument,” said he, “is needed, to obtain this favor, I hope,
without vanity, I may be allowed to say, that from long intimacy with
these woods, and frequent scoutings in them, my men are at least as
well acquainted with all the passes and difficulties as any troops that
will be employed.”
Notwithstanding the remonstrances of Washington, and the indignation of
the Virginia Assembly, Colonel Bouquet persisted in his plan of cutting
a new road over the mountains, to Fort Duquesne. Sixteen hundred men
were sent forward, from Raystown, to engage in the work. Thus July and
August passed away; Washington was still encamped at Fort Cumberland,
in the extreme of impatience, with nothing to do. He learned, by his
spies, that on the 13th of August there were but eight hundred men,
Indians included, at Fort Duquesne. There can be no question, that had
Washington’s counsels been followed, the fort would, by that time, have
been in the hands of the British.
In September, Washington received orders to repair, with his troops,
to Raystown, where he was to join Colonel Forbes. It was the middle of
the month. And yet, with incredible toil the new military road had been
opened but about forty-five miles, where a fort of deposit was built,
called Loyal Hannan, a short distance beyond Laurel Hill, a distance of
fifty miles, through the wilderness, was still to be traversed.
Colonel Bouquet, who commanded two thousand men there, sent forward
about eight hundred men, under Major Grant, to reconnoitre. The Major
was a boastful, conceited bravado. A part of his force consisted of
Highlanders, and another part of Americans, under Major Andrew Lewis.
They were all brave men. Grant was not aware that Indian scouts were
watching every step of his advance. The farther they could draw him
from the main body, the more easy and signal would be their victory.
Supposing that he had approached the fort unperceived, Major Grant
decided to make a sudden attack, thinking to take it by surprise,
and thus to win great glory. Major Lewis thought the attempt very
imprudent. There was certainly danger of failure. The failure might
prove exceedingly disastrous. Whereas, by obeying orders, and waiting
for the main body of troops to come up, the fort could certainly be
taken, and probably with but very little, if any, bloodshed. With
characteristic contemptuousness Major Grant replied:
“You and your Americans may remain behind, with the baggage. I will
go forward, with the British regulars, and show you how a fort can be
taken.”
He then placed Major Lewis in the rear, with the American troops, to
protect the baggage. With martial music and unfurled banners, as if in
proud challenge of the garrison, he marched his troops to an eminence,
near the fort, where he encamped for the night. There was no movement
in the fort. Not a gun was fired. Not a voice was heard. Nearly two
thousand Indians were encamped near by, waiting to coöperate with a
sally from the fort the next morning.
The morning came. With its early dawn there was opened one of those
awful scenes of tumult, blood, and woe, which have so often disfigured
this sad world. The sally from the garrison attacked in front. The
Indians in ambush, with hideous yells, opened fire upon the flanks. The
scenes of Braddock’s defeat were renewed. The British officers, with
coolness and courage which could not be surpassed, endeavored to rally
their men according to European tactics, which was the most foolish
thing they could possibly do. The soldiers were thus presented to the
foe, in such a concentrated mass, that every bullet of the savages
accomplished its mission.
The British regulars, for a little time, held their ground bravely,
though almost deafened by the yells of two thousand savages, and
assailed by perhaps as terrific a storm of leaden hail as soldiers ever
encountered. But no mortal courage could long withstand this merciless
slaughter. Panic ensued, and a tumultuous flight. Major Lewis, leaving
Captain Bullit with fifty men to guard the baggage, hurried forward,
with the remainder of the Virginia troops, to the scene of action. The
ground was covered with the dead and wounded, and the English utterly
routed, were in frantic flight. The yells of two thousand Indians, in
hot pursuit, blended into one demoniac scream.
Lewis was surrounded and captured. A French officer came to his rescue,
and saved him from the tomahawk. Major Grant was likewise captured, and
his life was saved by a French officer. Captain Bullit endeavored to
make a forlorn stand, by forming a barricade with the baggage wagons.
It was the work of a moment. The fugitives rallied behind it. Every man
could see that escape, by flight, pursued by two thousand fleet-footed
savages, was impossible. Concealed behind this bulwark, as the savages
drew near, a deadly fire, by a concerted signal, was simultaneously
opened upon them. This held the savages in check for a little time, but
it manifestly could not be for long. We regret to add that the brave
Captain Bullit then resorted to a stratagem, which, had it been adopted
by the Indians, would have been denounced as the vilest perfidy. We
give the occurrence, in the mild, and certainly not condemnatory
language, of Washington Irving.
“They were checked for a time, but were again pressing forward in
greater numbers, when Bullit and his men held out the signal of
capitulation, and advanced, as if to surrender. When within eight
yards of the enemy, they suddenly levelled their arms, poured a most
effectual volley, and then charged with the bayonet. The Indians
fled in dismay, and Bullit took advantage of this check to retreat,
with all speed, collecting the wounded and scattered fugitives as he
advanced.”[49]
The routed detachment, in broken bands, after the endurance of terrible
sufferings, reached the Fort, Loyal Hannan. Here we are informed, by
Mr. Irving, that Bullit’s behavior was “a matter of great admiration.”
He was soon after rewarded with a major’s commission.[50]
In this disastrous campaign, fraught with woe to so many once happy
homes, twenty-one officers and two hundred and seventy-three privates
were either killed or taken captive. There was something in the
dignity, thoughtfulness, and heroism of Washington’s character which
caused, notwithstanding the incessant attacks to which he was exposed,
his reputation to be continually on the advance. The weary weeks still
lingered slowly away, and but little was accomplished. The Indians were
ravaging the frontiers, almost unopposed. Life had become a burden in
hundreds of woe-stricken homes. In many a lonely log-cabin, the widowed
mother gathered her orphan children around her, and in terror awaited
the war-whoop of the savage. Washington was given the command of a
detachment of American troops to do what he could for the protection of
these homes where anguish dwelt.
If there be pestilence, famine, earthquake, God is responsible for
the consequences; for He sends the scourge. But for these woes, these
terrific woes, caused simply by ambitious warfare between the courts of
England and France, God is not responsible. They were the work of man.
The responsibility rests upon human hearts. Who will be held, by God,
accountable for them in the day of judgment? There are some persons who
must have cause to tremble.
It was not until the 5th of November, that the whole army was assembled
at Loyal Hannan. Dreary winter was at hand. Snow capped the summits,
and ice filled the gorges of the mountains. Freezing blasts moaned
through the forests and swept the plains. Fifty miles of rugged
mountain ranges were to be traversed, through which no road had yet
been opened. The march was commenced, without tents or baggage, and
with but a light train of artillery, in consequence of the ruggedness
of the way.
Washington was in the advance. His route led along the path by which
the fugitives of Grant’s army had retreated. It was a melancholy march.
The road presented continued traces of the awful defeat. It was strewed
with human bones, picked clean by the wolves. These were the remains of
beloved sons, husbands, fathers. Some had been cut down and scalped by
the Indians. Some had thrown themselves on the ground, to die alone
of exhaustion and hunger. Their panic-stricken companions could not
remain, in their desperate flight, to nurse the sick or to bury the
dead.
As the troops drew near Fort Duquesne the more numerous these mementoes
of the awful past appeared. Washington advanced with the greatest
caution, until he arrived within sight of the fort. He had anticipated
a vigorous defence. But the signal successes of the British armies in
Canada had prevented any reinforcement or supplies from being sent to
Fort Duquesne. The intelligent officers saw, consequently, that they
were in no condition to repel the very formidable army which Great
Britain was marching against them.
The commandant had but five hundred men, and his provisions were nearly
exhausted. As soon as the English army was within one day’s march of
the fort, he at night embarked his troops, and nearly all the valuable
material of the fortress, in several large flat-bottomed boats, blew
up the magazine, reduced all the works to ashes, and, leaving but
blackened ruins behind him, drifted down the rapid current of the Ohio.
In the chill and the gloom of the 25th of November, the English army
reached the confluence of the Alleghany and the Monongahela rivers.
There was neither fort, village, cabin, or wigwam there. Not an Indian
or a Frenchman was to be seen. Not a gun, not a cartridge, not a
particle of food was left behind. The grand eminences rose sublimely,
as now. The two tranquil streams flowed rapidly along, as if eager
to unite in forming La Belle Rivière. The primeval forest, in almost
awful grandeur, covered hill and valley as far as the eye could extend.
Silence and solitude reigned supreme. The French were driven out the
valley, and the British flag was triumphantly unfurled.
Vigorous measures were adopted to erect another fort. It was called
Fort Pitt, in honor of England’s illustrious minister. The domination
of the French, in the valley of the Ohio, was at an end. The Indians
promptly gave in their adhesion to the conquering power, entered into
alliances with the English, and, for a short time, allowed peace to
exist in that beautiful valley, which God apparently intended as one of
the fairest gardens of our world.
Washington, with somewhat accumulated fame, returned to Virginia. On
the 6th of January his marriage union with Mrs. Custis took place,
at the White House, the attractive residence of the wealthy bride. A
numerous assemblage of the distinguished gentlemen and ladies of the
land graced the festive scene.[51]
Washington remained for three months, a happy man, with his bride at
the White House. He then repaired to Williamsburg, to take his seat as
representative in the House of Burgesses.[52] His prospects for a happy
life were brilliant indeed. From his own family he had inherited a
large fortune. His mental and personal attractions were extraordinary.
His fame was enviable. Mr. Custis, the first husband of his wife, had
left, in addition to a very large landed estate, money, well invested,
amounting to two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. One-third
of this fell to his widow in her own right. Two-thirds were inherited
equally by her two children: a son of six years, and a daughter of
four. Washington’s bride was, in all respects, everything his heart
could wish. The two children were intelligent, amiable, and lovely in a
high degree.
At the close of the session of the Assembly, he conducted his happy
family to his favorite abode of Mount Vernon. In those blessed days of
peace and domestic joy he wrote to a friend.[53]
“I am now, I believe, fixed in this seat, with an agreeable partner
for life; and I hope to find more happiness in retirement than I ever
experienced in the wide and bustling world.”
Most of our readers are familiar with the home of Washington, as it
has been presented to them in the many engravings which have found
their way to almost every fireside. The mansion, very spacious on the
ground floor, was architecturally quite pleasing. It stood upon a
smooth, green, velvety lawn, spreading several hundred feet down to
the river which washed its eastern base. The prospect it commanded was
magnificent. The eminence, in the rear, was crowned with the stately
forest. The spacious estate, of two thousand five hundred acres, was
divided into many highly cultivated farms. Much of the region was
still covered with the forest, which the axe of the settler had never
disturbed. Game of every variety abounded on the hills, and in the
meadows and streamlets. A nobler hunting ground could perhaps nowhere
be found. Washington, when but a stripling, had often ranged its vast
expanse, where deer, foxes, and rabbits had found their favorite
haunts; and where water-fowl floated, often in countless numbers, upon
the creeks and lakelets. In one of Washington’s letters he writes
enthusiastically, and yet truly:
“No estate in United America is more pleasantly situated. In a high and
healthy country; in a latitude between the extremes of heat and cold;
on one of the finest rivers in the world--a river well stocked with
various kinds of fish at all seasons of the year, and, in the spring
with shad, herring, bass, carp, sturgeon, etc., in great abundance. The
borders of the estate are washed by more than ten miles of tide water.
Several valuable fisheries appertain to it. The whole shore, in fact,
is one entire fishery.”
Washington was, from his natural disposition, and also from the
teachings of his mother, a devout man. The society in the midst of
which he was born, and by which he was from childhood surrounded, was
aristocratic in all its habits and tastes. Most of the wealthy planters
were connected with the aristocratic families of England. They had
brought over large sums of money, purchased extensive estates and were
living in a style of splendor and of profuse hospitality unknown in
any of the other colonies.
The governors, in particular, being appointed by the crown and who
were generally men of wealth and high birth, endeavored to form their
establishments on the pattern of miniature royalty. The Episcopal
church, or church of England, was altogether predominant throughout
the Dominion. Many of these haughty men maintained it merely as an
essential part of the political organization of the British government.
But Washington was a religious man in heart and in life. He was
vestryman[54] of two parishes: Fairfax and Truro.
The parochial church of Fairfax was at Alexandria, ten miles from Mount
Vernon. The church of the Truro parish was at Pohick, about seven miles
distant. Washington had presented the plan of the latter church, and
had built it almost at his own expense. He attended one or the other
of these churches when the weather and the state of the roads would
permit. He and Mrs. Washington were both communicants.
Notwithstanding the rapid increase of wealth and splendor in our land,
the style of living, which prevailed among these opulent families in
Virginia, has long ago faded away. Massive side-boards were generally,
seen covered with glittering plate. The burglar was not feared in these
large households. Superb carriages, drawn often by four blooded horses,
all imported from England, conveyed the richly dressed families,
through the forest roads, from mansion to mansion in their stately
calls.
Washington had his chariot and four.[55] His black postilions, chosen
for their manly beauty, were richly clad in livery. When he accompanied
Lady Washington in any one of her drives, he, a splendid horseman,
almost invariably appeared mounted, and their equipage would often
surpass that of the minor dukes and princes of Europe.
Mr. Irving writes: “A large Virginia estate, in those days, was a
little empire. The mansion-house was a seat of government, with its
numerous dependencies, such as kitchens, smoke-house, workshops and
stables. In this mansion the master ruled supreme; his steward, or
overseer, was prime minister and executive officer. He had his legion
of house negroes for domestic service, and his host of field negroes
for the culture of tobacco, Indian corn, and other crops, and for other
out-door labor.
“Their quarters formed a kind of hamlet, composed of various huts,
with little gardens and poultry yards, all well stocked; and swarms of
little negroes gambolling in the sunshine. Then there were large wooden
edifices for curing tobacco, the staple and most profitable production,
and mills for grinding wheat and Indian corn, of which large fields
were cultivated for the supply of the family, and the maintenance of
the negroes.
“Among the slaves were artificers of all kinds: tailors, shoemakers,
carpenters, smiths, wheelwrights, and so forth. So that a plantation
produced everything within itself for ordinary use. As to articles of
fashion and elegance, and expensive clothing, they were imported from
London; for the planters on the main rivers, especially the Potomac,
carried on an immediate trade with England. Their tobacco was put
up by their own negroes, bore their own marks, was shipped on board
of vessels which came up the rivers for the purpose, and consigned
to some agent in Liverpool or Bristol with whom the planter kept an
account.”[56]