of distinguished honors, contrasts finely with a scene in the life of
another great general, Napoleon. On one occasion, when Napoleon gave
audience to famous guests, together with several members of his family,
his mother advanced towards him. According to a royal custom, the
emperor extended his hand to her to kiss, as he had done when his
brothers and sisters approached him.
"No," responded his mother; "you are the king, the emperor of all the
rest, but you are _my son_."
Mrs. Washington was always actuated by a similar sense of propriety; and
her demeanor towards the general seemed to say, "You are my son." And
the general accepted that exhibition of maternal dignity and love as
proper and honorable.
At the close of the Revolution, Lafayette, before leaving the country,
visited Mrs. Washington at her home. One of her grandsons accompanied
him to the house. As they approached, the grandson said, pointing to an
old lady in the garden:
"There is my grandmother in the garden."
"Indeed!" answered Lafayette. "I am happy to find her able to be out."
Lafayette saluted her in his cordial way on coming up to her, when she
replied:
"Ah, Marquis, you see an old woman; but come, I can make you welcome to
my poor dwelling without the parade of changing my dress."
"I come to bid you adieu before leaving the country," remarked
Lafayette, when they were seated in the house. "I desired to see you
once more."
"I assure you that nothing could afford me more real pleasure than to
welcome once more to my home so distinguished a friend of my son and my
country," Mrs. Washington answered.
"I congratulate you upon having such a son and such a country,"
continued Lafayette.
"I trust that I am grateful for both," Mrs. Washington replied.
"I rejoice with you in your son's well-earned fame," continued the
distinguished Frenchman, "and I am glad that you have lived to see this
day."
Lafayette proceeded to rehearse the patriotic deeds of Washington for
his country, growing more and more enthusiastic in his praise as he
continued, until finally Mrs. Washington remarked:
"_I am not surprised at what George has done, for he was always a good
boy._"
Washington retired to his home at Mount Vernon at the close of the war,
and earnestly entreated his mother to take up her abode with him.
"You are too aged and infirm to live alone," he said, "and I can have no
greater pleasure than to have you in my family."
"I feel truly grateful for your kindness, George, but I enjoy my mode of
life," she answered. "I think it is according to the direction of
Providence."
"It would not be in opposition to Providence if you should come to live
with me," responded Washington with a smile.
"Nevertheless, I must decline. I thank you from the bottom of my heart
for your interest and love, _but I feel fully competent to take care of
myself_."
That settled the question, and she remained at Fredericksburg.
When Washington was elected President of the United States, he paid a
farewell visit to his mother. He was about to depart for the seat of
government, which was in New York City.
"I would gladly have avoided this responsibility for your sake, as well
as mine," remarked Washington; "but Providence seemed to leave me no way
of escape, and I have come to bid you an affectionate farewell."
"You are in the way of duty, George, and I have no desire to interpose,"
his mother answered. "My race is almost run, and I shall never see you
again in the flesh."
"I hope we shall meet again; though at your great age, and with such a
serious disease upon you, the end cannot be far away," replied the son.
Mrs. Washington was then eighty-three years of age, and was suffering
from a cancer in the breast.
"Yes, I am old and feeble, and growing more so every day," continued his
mother; "and I wait the summons of the Master without fear or anxiety."
Pausing a moment, as if to control emotion, she added, "Go, George, and
fulfil the high destiny to which Providence calls you; and may God
continue to guide and bless you!"
At this point let Mr. Custis speak:
"Washington was deeply affected. His head rested upon the shoulder of
his parent, whose aged arm feebly, yet fondly, encircled his neck. That
brow, on which fame had wreathed the purest laurel virtue ever gave to
created man, relaxed from its lofty bearing. That look, which would have
awed a Roman senate in its Fabrician day, was bent in filial tenderness
upon the time-worn features of the aged matron. He wept. A thousand
recollections crowded upon his mind, as memory, retracing scenes long
passed, carried him back to the maternal mansion and the days of
juvenility, where he beheld that mother, whose care, education, and
discipline caused him to reach the topmost height of laudable ambition.
Yet, how were his glories forgotten while he gazed upon her whom, wasted
by time and malady, he should part with to meet no more!"
Washington never saw his mother again. She died Aug. 25, 1789. Her last
days were characterized by that cheerful resignation to the divine will
for which she was ever distinguished, and she passed away in the
triumphs of Christian faith.
Her remains were laid in the burial ground of Fredericksburg, in a spot
which she selected, because it was situated near the place where she was
wont to retire for meditation and prayer. For many years her grave was
unmarked by slab or monument; but in 1833, Silas E. Barrows, Esq., of
New York City, undertook the erection of a monument at his own expense.
On the seventh day of May of that year, President Jackson laid the
corner-stone in the presence of a great concourse of people. It was
estimated that more than fifteen thousand persons assembled to honor the
dead.
The plan of the monument was pyramidical, and the height of the obelisk
forty-five feet. A colossal bust of Washington adorned the shaft,
surmounted by the American eagle sustaining a civic crown above the
hero's head, and with the simple inscription:
MARY,
THE MOTHER OF
WASHINGTON.
From President Jackson's eulogy on the interesting occasion, we make the
following brief extract:
"In the grave before us lie the remains of his mother. Long has it been
unmarked by any monumental tablet, but not unhonored. You have
undertaken the pious duty of erecting a column to her name, and of
inscribing upon it the simple but affecting words, 'Mary, the Mother of
Washington.' No eulogy could be higher, and it appeals to the heart of
every American.... The mother and son are beyond the reach of human
applause, but the bright example of paternal and filial excellence which
their conduct furnishes cannot but produce the most salutary effects
upon our countrymen. Let their example be before us from the first
lesson which is taught the child, till the mother's duties yield to the
course of preparation and action which nature prescribes for him....
"Fellow citizens, at your request, and in your name, I now deposit this
plate in the spot destined for it; and when the American pilgrim shall,
in after ages, come up to this high and holy place, and lay his hand
upon this sacred column, may he recall the virtues of her who sleeps
beneath, and depart with his affections purified and his piety
strengthened, while he invokes blessings upon the mother of Washington."
John Adams wrote to his wife concerning a certain statesman: "In reading
history, you will generally observe, when you find a great character,
whether a general, a statesman, or a philosopher, some female about him,
either in the character of a mother, wife, or sister, who has knowledge
and ambition above the ordinary level of women; and that much of his
eminence is owing to her precepts, example, or instigation in some shape
or other."
This remark was remarkably illustrated in the career of Washington. He
always acknowledged his indebtedness to maternal influence. He could
say, with John Quincy Adams, "Such as I have been, whatever it was; such
as I am, whatever it is; and such as I hope to be in all futurity, must
be ascribed, under Providence, to the precepts and example of my
mother."
Historians and poets, statesmen and orators, have ever accorded to the
mother of Washington a signal influence to determine his character and
career. And so universal is this sentiment, that the American people
consider that the noblest tribute to her memory is the inscription upon
her monument:
MARY,
THE MOTHER OF
WASHINGTON.
VII.
YOUNG SURVEYOR.
"George can make his home with me, now that his school-days are over,"
said Lawrence to his mother, anxious to keep his young brother in his
own family at Mount Vernon.
"But I need him more than you do," objected Mrs. Washington; "you can
hardly imagine how I miss him."
"So do we miss him when he is not here," responded Lawrence. "George is
good company, as much so as a man of twenty-five years of age. I want
very much that he should make his home with me."
"I thought he might be of service to me in running the farm, and, at the
same time, pursue his studies by himself," continued Mrs. Washington.
"He can study better with me," suggested Lawrence, "because I can assist
him as well as not."
"There is no doubt of that," replied the mother, "and that is the only
reason I can see why he should make his home with you."
"There is one other reason, mother, and a good one, too."
"What is it?"
"He will have a better opportunity to get into business if he lives with
me. I have much company, and just the class of men to introduce a
capable youth like George into some good pursuit."
"There is something in that," responded Mrs. Washington.
"There is much in it every way," added Lawrence. "George is now at an
age when his plans for life should be forming. He is competent to occupy
almost any position that offers, and I can be of real service to him in
directing and advising him."
There is evidence to believe that Lawrence had not wholly abandoned the
idea of introducing George into military life. He himself had become a
man of influence in the State. He was a member of the House of
Burgesses, and adjutant-general of his district; a gentleman of
acknowledged ability and position. He saw in George the foreshadowing of
a distinguished man. He had more exalted ideas than his mother of the
boy's ability and promise. If he could have him in his family, he could
assist him onward and upward, beyond what would be possible if he
remained with his mother.
It was finally settled that George should take up his abode with
Lawrence at Mount Vernon. We need not say that this decision was
congenial to George. He was so strongly attached to Lawrence, and
enjoyed being at Mount Vernon so much, that he found great delight in
removing thither permanently. It proved to be a very important step in
his career, as Lawrence prophesied it would be.
George had not passed his sixteenth birthday. Though still a boy, his
views and aims of life were those of a man. He pursued arithmetic and
surveying under the direction of his brother, with reference to future
manhood. Nor was that all.
One day Lawrence surprised him by the inquiry, "George, how would you
like to take lessons in the manual exercise of Adjutant Muse?"
"I should like it," George replied.
"It may be of service to you at some future day," Lawrence continued.
"It will do you no harm, surely."
"I am ready for the lessons any time," added George. "I have always had
a desire to know something in that line."
Adjutant Muse served with Lawrence in the war against the Spaniards in
the West Indies, and he was a competent teacher of the manual exercise.
It was arranged that he should instruct George in the art.
Subsequently, also, Lawrence made arrangements with Monsieur Van Braam
to instruct George in the _art of fencing_. He had an idea that
dexterity in the use of his limbs, as well as fire-arms, would be of
future use to him. These facts indicate that Lawrence did not expect
that his young brother would become a farmer. There is traditional
evidence that he stated as much to George, whose military aspirations
were nurtured in the Mount Vernon home.
Adjutant Muse encouraged George to read certain treaties upon the art of
war, which he offered to loan him. From these volumes he acquired
considerable knowledge of the theory of tactics, and of the evolution of
troops. No previous branch of study had enlisted his interest more
thoroughly than did these works upon military tactics; and we may easily
discover the design of Providence to prepare him in this way to act a
conspicuous part in the achievement of American independence.
At Mount Vernon George met William Fairfax, whose daughter Lawrence
married. He occupied a valuable estate of his cousin Lord Fairfax, at
Belvoir, seven or eight miles from Mount Vernon. He was an English
gentleman of culture and wealth, very much respected by all who knew
him.
Mr. Fairfax became very much interested in George, regarding him as a
youth of rare, manly virtues.
"He is a man already," he remarked to Lawrence; "very mature for one of
his years."
"I think so," Lawrence answered, "and I hope the way will be opened for
his noblest development."
"He must visit us at Belvoir; I should delight to have him spend much
time in my family," Mr. Fairfax added.
"And I should be pleased to have him," responded Lawrence. "He would
derive great benefit from it."
"My sons and daughters would find him a very genial companion,"
continued Mr. Fairfax. "I think the benefit from the society of each
other would be mutual."
In this way George was introduced to the Fairfax family, with whom he
spent many of his happiest days and weeks. It was one of the most
favorable incidents of his young life when he was welcomed to that
family, for there he enjoyed society of culture, where character, and
neither wealth nor honors, ranked highest. Just at that age he needed
the influence of education and cultivated manners, and here he found
both with the sons and daughters of Mr. Fairfax. Alternately, between
this family at Belvoir and his brother's family at Mount Vernon, he
enjoyed a discipline of social intercourse, better for him, in some
respects, than even Mr. Williams's school.
At Belvoir George met Lord Fairfax, a relative of William Fairfax,
recently from England. "He was the owner of immense domains in
Virginia," says Mr. Everett. "He had inherited through his mother, the
daughter of Lord Culpepper, the original grantee, a vast tract of land,
originally including the entire territory between the Potomac and
Rappahannock Rivers."
Mr. Everett says of him further: "Lord Fairfax was a man of cultivated
mind, educated at Oxford, the associate of the wits of London, the
author of one or two papers in the _Spectator_, and an _habitue_ of the
polite circles of the metropolis. A disappointment in love is said to
have cast a shadow over his after life, and to have led him to pass his
time in voluntary exile on his Virginia estates, watching and promoting
the rapid development of the resources of the country, following the
hounds through the primeval forests, and cheering his solitary hours by
reading and a limited society of chosen friends."
The "love affair" to which Mr. Everett refers is explained by Mr. Irving
as follows:
"In the height of his fashionable career he became strongly attached to
a young lady of rank, paid his addresses, and was accepted. The wedding
day was fixed; the wedding dresses were provided, together with
servants and equipages for the matrimonial establishment. Suddenly the
lady broke her engagement. She had been dazzled by the superior
brilliancy of a ducal coronet.
"It was a cruel blow alike to the affection and pride of Lord Fairfax,
and wrought a change in both character and conduct. From that time he
almost avoided the sex, and became shy and embarrassed in their society,
excepting among those with whom he was connected or particularly
intimate. This may have been among the reasons which ultimately induced
him to abandon the gay world and bury himself in the wilds of America."
Lord Fairfax was charmed by the appearance of George.
"A remarkable lad," he said to his relative, William Fairfax; "so manly,
so intelligent in knowledge beyond his years."
"Yet not a mere book-worm," replied William. "No boy likes games and
hunting better than he."
"A capital horseman, I notice," added the nobleman; "strong and powerful
for one of his years. Yet he likes books. It seems to me that he is
unusually fond of reading."
Lord Fairfax possessed quite a number of valuable books, new and rare to
George, who had pored over them with absorbing interest. The nobleman
inferred that he must possess an unusual taste for reading, and this was
really true.
"Yes, he generally wants to know what the books he meets with contain,"
responded William. "He has made the contents of such books as he could
reach his own."
"I must take him out hunting with me," continued Lord Fairfax. "He will
make a good companion, I imagine."
Lord Fairfax delighted in fox-hunting. In England, before he came to
this country, his best sport was found in the fox-hunt. He kept his
hounds, and all the accoutrements for the chase, so that he was always
prepared for the sport. He found increased pleasure in the pastime after
George became his companion in the chase. The latter enjoyed it, too,
with a keen relish. It was not altogether new to him; he had been
occasionally on such excursions with others. But the English nobleman
understood fox-hunting as no one else in Virginia did. He had learned it
as practised by English lords, who live in baronial style. For this
reason George enjoyed the wild sport as he never did before.
One day George was surprised by a proposition from Lord Fairfax.
"How would you like to survey my lands for me, George? You appear to
understand the business."
"I should like nothing better if I can do it to suit you," George
answered. "I like surveying."
"Well, the only way for me to do is to survey my land, and sell it, if
I would keep 'squatters' off," added Lord Fairfax. "Squatters" were a
class of persons took up their abode upon lands which did not belong to
them, without leave or license.
"You can do it to suit me, I have no doubt," continued the noble lord,
"and I can satisfy you as to pay."
"I will confer with Lawrence about it," said George; "and I shall want
to see my mother, also, I have no doubt but that they will think well of
the plan."
"That is right," answered Lord Fairfax. "Think it over carefully before
you decide. You can undertake the work any time."
George was not long in consulting Lawrence, nor in securing the approval
of his mother. He had frequently been home to see his mother, improving
every favorable opportunity to show his filial devotion thereby. On this
visit, the prospect of an honorable and remunerative pursuit added
interest thereto.
Having obtained the approval of his mother and Lawrence, and formally
accepted the proposition of Lord Fairfax, George set to work in earnest
preparation for the task. He would be under the necessity of plunging
into the wilderness, where savage beasts and savage men might confront
him at almost any time. He must travel on horseback with attendants
carrying his outfit at considerable disadvantage, shooting game and
catching fish for food, and be absent weeks and possibly months at a
time. Camping out at night, or finding a lodge in some poor cabin,
breasting severe storms, encountering Indians, and other new experiences
required preparation.
George William Fairfax, a son of William, accompanied him, together with
two or three attendants. A writer describes the heroic boy, then sixteen
years of age, as follows:
"There he is, a tall, handsome youth, with his right arm thrown across
the horse's neck, and his left hand grasping his compass-staff. He is
clad in a buck-skin hunting-shirt, with leggings and moccasins of the
same material, the simple garb of a backwoods man, and one that well
becomes him now, as in perfect keeping with the wildness of the
surrounding scenery; while in his broad leathern belt are stuck the long
hunting-knife and Indian tomahawk. In stature he is much above most
youths of the same age. He is of a noble, robust form, with high and
strong but smooth features, light brown hair, large blue eyes, not
brilliant, but beaming with a clear and steady light, as if a soul
looked through them that knew no taint of vice or meanness, and a
countenance aglow with truth and courage, modest gentleness, and manly
self-reliance."
"You must continue to keep your journal," said Lawrence; "it will be
more valuable than ever to you."
George had kept a journal of events and experiences for two or three
years, and his brother encouraged him in doing it as valuable
discipline.
"I intend to do it," answered George, "and I shall take more interest in
it because I shall have something worth recording."
"Twenty or thirty years from now you will put a higher value upon your
journal than you do now," added Lawrence. "I should recommend every
youth to keep a journal."
"Especially in the woods," responded George, facetiously.
"Yes, in the woods or out; no boy can afford to lose the discipline of
it," rejoined Lawrence. "For so simple and easy practice it pays a large
interest."
"Small investments and large income! That is what you mean," remarked
George.
"Exactly; my word for it, you will find it so," added Lawrence.
That journal has proved of far more value than Lawrence predicted. After
the lapse of over one hundred and thirty years, we are able to learn
from it about the hardships, dangers, and severe labors of his surveying
expeditions. A few extracts from letters and journal will afford an
insight into that important period of his life.
He wrote to one of his friends, after an experience of several months,
thus:
"Your letter gave me the more pleasure, as I received it among
barbarians, and an uncouth set of people. Since you received my last
letter I have not slept above three or four nights in a bed; but after
walking a good deal all the day, I have lain down before the fire upon a
little hay, straw, fodder, or a bear-skin--whichsoever was to be
had--with man, wife, and children, like dogs and cats; and happy is he
who gets the berth nearest the fire. Nothing would make it pass off
tolerably but a good reward. A doubloon[A] is my constant gain every
day that the weather will permit my going out, and sometimes six
pistoles[B]. The coldness of the weather will not allow of my making a
long stay, as the lodging is rather too cold for the time of year. I
have never had my clothes off, but have lain and slept in them, except
the few nights I have been in Fredericksburg."
[A] $7 50.
[B] A pistole was $3.50
The entry in his journal for the third day after he started, in March,
1748, was as follows:
"Worked hard till night, and then returned. After supper we were lighted
into a room; and I, not being so good a woodsman as the rest, stripped
myself very orderly, and went into the bed, as they called it, when, to
my surprise, I found it to be nothing but a little straw matted
together, without sheet or anything else, but only one threadbare
blanket, with double its weight of vermin. I was glad to get up and put
on my clothes, and lie as my companions did. Had we not been very tired,
I am sure that we should not have slept much that night. I made a
promise to sleep so no more, choosing rather to sleep in the open air
before a fire."
George commenced operations for Lord Fairfax early in March, when the
mountains were still white with snow, and wintry blasts swept over the
plains. The heavy rains of spring had swollen the streams into torrents,
so that it was perilous to ford them. Of course the hardships of such an
expedition were largely increased by the rough, cold weather of the
season.
Abbot says: "The enterprise upon which Washington had entered was one
full of romance, toil, and peril. It required the exercise of constant
vigilance and sagacity. Though these wilds may be called pathless still
there were here and there narrow trails, which the moccasined foot of
the savage had trodden for centuries. They led in a narrow track,
scarcely two feet in breadth, through dense thickets, over craggy hills,
and along the banks of placid streams or foaming torrents."