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GEORGE WASHINGTON
Republican Aristocrat
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Painted in 1775 or 1776 by Samuel King
BERNARD FLAY
GEORGE
WASHINGTON
REPUBLICAN ARISTOCRAT
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
1931
COPYRIGHT, 1931, BY BERNARD FAY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE
THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.
3-.A^ PREFACE
I HAVE many people to thank for the help they gave
me when I was preparing and writing this book. Dr.
Jameson, of the Library of Congress, should be the first
one, then M. de la Ronciere, Conservateur des Im-
primes a la Bibliotheque Nationale, and M. Girodie,
Conservateur du Musee Americain de Blerancourt,
who showed me manuscripts, pamphlets, books, and
prints.
Miss Yorke, Mr. Imbs, and several other kind
friends have been generous enough to think my Eng-
lish worthy of their attention. The mistakes are still
mine. The rest is largely theirs.
All the friends who guided and helped me when
I was studying Franklin had their share in making
suggestions or giving advice for this 'Washington/
Please see the list in the Preface of my 'Franklin.'
Without them I should never have ventured to
speak of so great a man. Now I have done so, I
hope they will not regret it.
B. F.
PARIS, July, 1931
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION xi
I. GEORGE WASHINGTON, GENTLEMAN i
FEUDALISM IN VIRGINIA
THE DYNASTY OF THE WASHINGTONS
THE EDUCATION OF GEORGE WASHINGTON,
A YOUNGER SON
GEORGE WASHINGTON'S IDEAS
THE LUCK OF GEORGE WASHINGTON
II. THE LEGEND OF COLONEL WASHINGTON 50
A WAR OF BLIND MAN'S BUFF
GEORGE WASHINGTON'S FIRST MILITARY EXPLOITS
THE TRIALS OF COLONEL WASHINGTON
THE EDUCATION OF A LEADER
WASHINGTON AND HIS SOLDIERS
COLONEL WASHINGTON AND HIS CHIEFS
THE LAST CAMPAIGN OF COLONEL WASHINGTON,
OFFICER OF HIS BRITANNIC MAJESTY
III. COLONEL WASHINGTON AT HOME 127
THE GREAT LOVE OF COLONEL WASHINGTON
COLONEL WASHINGTON STUDIES SILENCE AND
AGRICULTURE
COLONEL WASHINGTON'S OTHER GREAT LOVE, POLITICS
IV. THE DICTATORSHIP OF GENERAL WASHINGTON 169
GEORGE WASHINGTON, COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF
GENERAL WASHINGTON PRACTISES THE GENTLE
ART OF WAITING
viii CONTENTS
THE MILITARY TRIUMPH OF GENERAL WASHINGTON
THE MORAL TRIUMPH OF GENERAL WASHINGTON
V. GEORGE WASHINGTON, THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY
IN THE SHADE OF THE LAURELS
GEORGE WASHINGTON, DICTATOR IN SPITE OF HIMSELF
GEORGE WASHINGTON, PRESIDENT
THE LAST CAMPAIGN OF GENERAL WASHINGTON
THE RETURN TO THE LAND
SOURCES 275
NOTES 279
INDEX 287
ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS
GEORGE WASHINGTON Frontispiece
From a portrait painted in 1775 or 1776 by Samuel King (1749-1819),
who, besides being a portrait-painter, was a dealer in mathematical
instruments in Newport. The painting was given by Mrs. Ann Mur-
ray Dike to the French-American Museum at Blrancourt.
MAP OF EASTERN VIRGINIA IN THE DAYS OF GEORGE
WASHINGTON 26
A PART OF GUILLAUME DELISLE'S MAP OF AMERICA, 1722 56
The original was entitled Carte de FAmtrique dresses pour Fusage du
Roy par Guillaume Delisle y premier Gtographe de so. Majcstf... Paris,
IJ22. This was the map used by Mirepoix, the French Ambassador in
London, during his negotiations with the British Ministry. It is easy
to see how vague and confusing it was.
COLONEL GEORGE WASHINGTON 78
From the portrait by Charles Willson Peale
MINIATURES OF THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR 98
MARTHA (DANDRIDGE) CUSTIS BEFORE HER MARRIAGE TO
WASHINGTON 134
From a portrait probably by Woollaston in the possession of Miss
Anna C. Woodward, Waterford, Pa. Cut used in Charles Moore's
The Family Life of George Washington.
MAP SHOWING BATTLE-FIELDS OF THE REVOLUTION AND
WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS 190
GEORGE WASHINGTON 226
From an engraving by Edward Savage after his own portrait of Wash-
ington painted in 1789. Washington is shown holding a plan of the
future Federal City. The copy from which this is reproduced is that
owned by the French-American Museum at Blfrancourt, a gift of
Miss Anne Morgan.
INTRODUCTION
IN the eighteenth century, so overcrowded with great
men, George Washington stands alone, a unique figure.
Because of his stature, he towers above others; be-
cause of his silence, he is distinguished from the
ordinary run of heroes; because of his attitude, he
makes these heroes seem mere actors and contempt-
ible stage-players, while he, himself, is like a statue
for all eternity to contemplate.
Voltaire and Frederick are fawned on for their
genius and Rousseau for his incomparable soulful-
ness. Before Washington we stand motionless, be-
cause we feel something of the divine. Is it not a
curious fact that this epoch perhaps the most
frivolous and scoffing that mankind has ever wit-
nessed should have felt no scruples in kneeling
before a heavily booted gentleman of the New World,
who bore neither title nor decoration?
To his contemporaries he gave the impression of
being superhuman; even those who were most on the
defensive against their imagination and their senti-
ment were won over to him. The Comte de Chastel-
lux, a member of the French Academy and General of
the Armies of the King of France, was a man of poise;
nevertheless he wrote these words: 'The most char-
acteristic feature of this respected man is the perfect
harmony existing between the physical and moral
attributes of which he is made up. Given one char-
acteristic, it would be easy to gauge the others. If
you should examine medallions of Caesar, of Trajan,
xii INTRODUCTION
or of Alexander, upon seeing their features you might
ask what was their height and the shape of their
bodies; but if, amongst the ruins you discover the head
or some marble fragment of an ancient Apollo, you
would not trouble about the other pieces,, but would
be confident that all the rest belonged to a god/ x
Voltaire, Frederick, Rousseau, Pitt are great men
whom their contemporaries observed with curiosity
and loudly applauded. But their absurdities and their
meannesses made as great an impression as their
greatness; and it was necessary that they die that
they should accomplish their destiny and that the
silence which haloes the dead should give time for the
legends of them to grow. These men were too real,
too human, too individual to be transformed into
holy idols immediately. Washington, on the con-
trary, without having either to die or to wait for long
years to pass, stepped with firm tread into immor-
tality. It would seem that the legends of other great
men slowly take shape round about their memory; in
the case of Washington it formed itself out of the man
himself and in his lifetime. He created his own silence
whilst the others were obliged to wait for the hand of
Time. The Vicomte de Chateaubriand, while never
inclined to admire others too much, said of him in the
beginning of the nineteenth century; 'Washington's
actions are surrounded by a certain quietude; he
acts slowly. One might say he feels himself burdened
with the liberty of the future and that he fears expos-
ing it to danger. It is not his own fate which this new
sort of hero upholds, but that of his country, Wash-
ington represented the needs, the ideas, the enlighten-
INTRODUCTION
merit, the opinions of his day; instead of impeding the
development of modern ideas, he promoted them; he
desired that which he should desire, the very thing
for which he felt a calling; therefore the consistency
and the continuity of his achievements. This man,
who is not conspicuous because he possessed a just
sense of proportion, threw in his lot with that of his
country. His glory is the patrimony of civilization;
his fame is ever-increasing, like one of those public
sanctuaries flowing with an abundant and never-
failing spring.' 2
Others are born eloquent; he was born legendary.
Of all the legends of the eighteenth century, his is
the most fruitful and the most original.
The eighteenth century had arranged its stage
sumptuously for all kinds of heroes: great captains,
writers, legislators, scholars, philosophers, celebrated
kings. But, above all, it looked forward with joy to
the arrival of the 'enlightened Despot/
At this time, when everyone was weary of the
monarchy and saw no possibility of birth of any other
form of government, hopes were all centred upon this
'enlightened despot/ whom we should today call
a 'dictator'; because each political system in its
decline (once it was monarchy, now it is democracy)
looks to dictatorship as a means of prolonging its
span, at the same time that it loses faith in its prin-
ciples.
They dreamed of an 'enlightened despot'; they
hoped nothing from the people, but everything for the
people; that is, if there could be given to the people all
xiv INTRODUCTION
that an enlightened intelligence and an iron rule
would give them. They wanted a great sovereign
leader with precepts borrowed from the philosophers
and who would apply their ideas regardless of the
opposition or foibles of the common herd. This desire
haunted Voltaire, Turgot, and even Franklin, as his
first letters mentioning George III prove. In turn,
they looked to the Grand Duke of Tuscan y, to Fred-
erick II, to Gustave III, to Joseph II for the incarna-
tion of this ideal, which they were to meet at last in
Napoleon.
Washington arrived at the very moment when
these ideas obtruded themselves upon all minds, when
any possibility of a republic seemed an empty dream,
since Rome and Greece were the only model republics
with republican heroes who were neither bandits nor
tradesmen. So all eyes were turned with curiosity
upon him to find out what new variation of the c en-
lightened despot* he would turn out to be: the easy-
going, the severe, the compliant, the lofty . , .
But Washington proved to be the republican hero.
He was a gentleman. He was rich. He was a soldier.
There was nothing of the revolutionary about him*
And, for the first time in more than fifteen centuries,
he exemplified the type of hero who declined supreme
power and wished to command only to serve.
The world did not expect this; and it surprised the
upper classes more than any other attitude would
have done. And throughout the entire world the
conservative classes, the middle classes, the enlight-
ened nobility, and the people who, even though most
INTRODUCTION
cautious, were desirous of change, beheld the serene,
great man with an astonishment which soon turned
to enthusiasm. Washington accomplished, by the
legend which so immediately surrounded him, more
than anyone else had done. By his personality he pre-
pared the extremists and the traditionalists to accept
democratic ideas.
Born and brought up amongst the landed aristo-
cracy, General George Washington, at the critical
moment of the century, not only stood for republican
precepts of government, but he allied himself with
a party which was to transform democracy, until
then merely an abstract, historical ideal. Silently,
unhesitatingly, he succeeded in a thing which the
most intrepid reformers of his day had not dared to
attempt, a thing which the most emancipated phi-
losophers Rousseau, Voltaire, even still looked
upon as chimerical. In this way he became one of
the spiritual leaders of his country and of the world.
He has come to be the prototype whom millions of
human beings have tried to imitate since his time.
Crowds of writers have tried to depict him, bands
of historians to interpret him. Some have written
worthy books, others books which have sold well.
They have published every possible detail they could
discover about him, regarding his actions, his gestures,
his family, his friends, his enemies; all those who knew
him or who did not -know him have discussed him.
They are even preparing an edition containing every
word he ever penned as well as those written by his
secretaries. At the hands of his very worshippers as
well as by his pitiless biographers, this genuinely great
xvi INTRODUCTION
man has been subjected to a mass of detail which,
instead of elucidating his character, has obscured its
presentation.
I should not like to add a further discordant note to
this clamour, but, on the contrary, to restore to him
a little of the silence which is his due. Since all sources
have been explored, since investigation has been
carried as far as possible, the time has come to proffer
a balance-sheet. In Paris, London, Philadelphia,
and Washington, I, too, have discovered documents
hitherto unused, but I shall only make use of them
where they can throw a new and brilliant light upon
this august countenance, or, as out of an anecdote,
there can come an idea.
I do not wish, moreover, to pay tribute to Washing-
ton as the hero of a group, but as one of the leaders
of mankind. ... I should like to depict here all those
things which, as a new type of character, he gave to
the world during that great period of struggle and
creation the eighteenth century.
I wish to present him encompassed by his silence
and by the Universe.
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Republican Aristocrat
GEORGE WASHINGTON
*
CHAPTER I
GEORGE WASHINGTON, GENTLEMAN
GEORGE WASHINGTON was an aristocrat, a feudal
lord. His birth and upbringing inevitably made him
such. It was not his choice, it was his destiny which
determined this; it was not a pose but quite his man-
ner of being. He came by his aristocratic character-
istics so naturally that it surprises no one that the
founder of the American Republic should have been
an aristocrat and the son of an aristocrat. Indeed,
many people have entirely overlooked the fact.
But that air of authority, of greatness and of de-
tachment with which he was endowed (qualities use-
ful to him throughout his career), really the very
qualities by which history describes him, are the
essential marks of an aristocrat. All who approached
him, whether gentlemen, writers, preachers, trades-
men, or poets, all felt immediately that they were in
the presence of a born leader. The election to the
presidency merely ratified and consecrated this title;
it did not bestow it.
In truth he was born into and grew up in one of the
most aristocratic, one of the most genuinely feudal
societies the world has ever known.
2 GEORGE WASHINGTON
FEUDALISM IN VIRGINIA"
In the rest of the world aristocracy was writhing in
its death agony.
Having lost their rights as well as their halo of
feudalism, the nobles were in process of becoming
government officials. The position of the French
monarchy had been strengthened during the days of
Richelieu and of Louis XIV, The monarchical system
of the Bourbons of Spain was patterned after that of
the Bourbons of France; the Habsburgs were led into
imitating them through having had to fight them,
and the Hohenzollerns and the Romanoffs aped them,
so that everywhere the monarchy would tolerate no
other political or sovereign power but its own. There-
after, no class was to exist between the king and the
people.
The aristocracy was no longer the nobility, but had
become 'the upper classes.' These were merely dec-
orative. In case of necessity the aristocracy could
be called upon for war, for diplomatic service, or for
court life; but for all really important matters, such as
finance, commerce, or administrative duties, the more
practical, pliable middle class was preferred. The
nobility retained the more obvious of its privileges,
but the middle classes acquired riches and authority.
Colbert, the greatest of France's ministers between
1650 and 1789, was the son of a draper
But such was not the case in England, The aristoc-
racy had put up a better fight for its rights. Attach-
ing themselves to the people's cause, they expelled the
Stuarts, who would have liked to imitate the example
of the Bourbons. The rich, noble families held the
GENTLEMAN
Hanoverian dynasty in check by manipulating public
opinion. With the power furnished them by the
House of Lords in which they sat by right of heredity,
and by the House of Commons in which they bought
seats, thanks to their great wealth 3 they formed a rul-
ing class whose power became firmer as the century
advanced.
The part they played in Parliament gave them as
much importance in England as prestige in the out-
side world. At that grandiloquent period, when the
aristocracies of the other countries were forced to keep
silence or confine their discussions to the salon, the
English nobility, by its outspoken and pompous par-
liamentary discussions, drew the attention of the whole
world unto itself. Thanks to his genius and the pi-
quancy of his style, M. de Montesquieu succeeded in
making it fashionable all over the world.
A new conception of liberty, formed by a happy
combination of the examples given in London and in
Rome, became the ideal of Europe, particularly the
ideal of the upper classes. From all parts of the old
continent, noble families sent their children to London
to admire the majestic spectacle of an independent
aristocracy an aristocracy retaining all its privi-
leges, which privileges, in order to be on good terms
with the middle classes whose assistance it found in-
dispensable, it politely called 'liberty/
The colonists of Virginia, in their far-away exile,
were also fascinated by this magnificent spectacle.
They sprang from the nobility, or from classes closely
related to it (besides, does not every voluntary exile
4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
feel himself ennobled by the fact that he has risked
his fortune?), and they set out to follow the example
before them.
Conditions were not the same as in the mother coun-
try. There was no rival middle class to be taken into
consideration, and the virgin soil had proved generous
indeed in its gifts, so that the copy of the New World
went beyond the limits of the original.
In spite of her name, Virginia was not a land dedi-
cated to virtue and piety, as was New England. She
was opened to colonization by a company of specula-
tors whose aim was to make money. She was colon-
ized by men who were unable to find it in Europe.
That burning desire for the possession of land which
had created and developed feudalism during the Mid-
dle Ages likewise created the feudalism of Virginia.
At the outset, Virginia was a mirage of wealth, happi-
ness, and feudal power. In order to attract the emi-
grant to the New World, did they not say that if he
went to Virginia, he would find soil so fertile that in
one day he would be able to clear enough space, plough
enough land, and plant enough corn to feed himself for
a year? In 1650, an author writing about Virginia de-
scribed it as a land of rock crystal which the Indians
employed for their arrow-heads, of cliffs and even hills
of silver which might afford great pleasure to white
colonists and, finally, he said that in the interior, 'on
the banks of a river whose source sprang from the
mountain/ a there was a red sand apparently contain-
ing copper and, perhaps, COLD.
All this they dangled before the eyes of the miser-
able people of Europe who had been harassed by na-
GENTLEMAN
tional wars, by civil strifes, by religious persecutions,
and by all manner of epidemics. Most of all, these
people had need of hope and they were given it by the
bushelful. Thus, from the beginning, the colonization
of Virginia was a success and greedy crowds hastened
to her glittering shores. From 1550 to 1594, and again
during the middle of the seventeenth century, France
was a prey to both civil and religious wars; from 1618
to 1648, one of the most horrible wars ever witnessed
by Europe took place in Germany. England was no
better off, for after the ferocious religious struggles of
the sixteenth century she fell into a period of revolu-
tion which lasted from 1637 to 1660. First she expelled
the Puritans and then the Cavaliers; so it was that
New England and Virginia were populated. In truth,
it was far less the shine of gold than the hope of find-
ing vast, rich lands which drew the English colonists
to Virginia.
Unlike the Puritans, these colonists were not middle-
class tradesmen who had acquired culture by travel.
Neither were they endowed with the wild imagination
of the Spanish conquistadors. The mountains of
pearls and precious stones said much less to them than
the prospects of a solid, stone dwelling overlooking
extensive fields, or of servants toiling with bent backs.
These, to them, were the symbols of wealth and re-
spectability. After being driven from England and
their estates, they were eager not only to discover a
newer world, but to reestablish, for their future bene-
fit, a world older than that they had left. They still
retained their feudal instincts and they went to
America to gratify them.
6 GEORGE WASHINGTON
Virginia was suited to their purposes. It was a com-
pletely new feudalism which was established on the
banks of the Potomac and the James Rivers, but the
system was identical with the old one in its importance
and strength, its disadvantages and merits.
Looking back upon it, we are only too prone to re-
gard the thing merely as a sordid performance an
unbridled, instinctive desire for gain, as it were, in-
vading a virgin country only to sully it. This is un-
true. The feudalism in Virginia was born of peril and
struggle, as was the greatest European feudal move-
ment of the Middle Ages: it deserves the same consid-
eration.
The beginning of this adventure was attended with
nothing but dangers. There was the Atlantic to be
crossed in ships so feeble that the hurricanes tossed
and threatened to destroy them, or else they stood
motionless for weeks at a time, in a dead calm, while
the humans on board were huddled together like her-
rings in a cask, exposed to all the sufferings of a too
close proximity and to the risks of epidemics* 3 In
the eighteenth century it was the rule never to allow
on board a troop-ship more than one soldier to every
two tons of shipping, but in the transporting of emi-
grants in the seventeenth century two persons were
allowed for every ton of shipping. On one of these
barks of one hundred and fifty, one hundred and
twenty, or one hundred tons, more than two hundred
passengers were collected, together with their lug-
gage, the ship's stores, letters and parcels, the vict-
uals for the colony, and the cannon for defence
against pirates and freebooters. Anything of all
GENTLEMAN
this could be cast into the sea when the weather
became wild.
In addition, all sorts of epidemics raged on board
the English and French sailing-ships in the seven-
teenth century. Filth, exhaustion, and seasickness
were the causes of scurvy, yellow fever, London
plague, smallpox, and scarlet fever, which oppressed
the homeless and disheartened emigrants. At times,
as many as one hundred and thirty died out of the one
hundred and eighty passengers on a single voyage, and
if the half of a shipload reached port, it was considered
a good proportion. Nevertheless, such was the greed
of the contractors for the transport and the cupidity
of the captains, that there was no possibility of any
amelioration of these awful conditions during the
whole of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
Only the strong and the courageous survived, and of
these were the members of an aristocracy which had
already been tried by a long ordeal of suffering.
Once arrived, these Englishmen, both rustics and
gentlemen, found themselves in that tropical climate
of Virginia, where the winter is damp and warm, the
summer torrid, the spring sudden, and the autumn
alternating with cold and heat. Along the coast bor-
dered by marshlands, they were the prey of mosqui-
toes, and more than one died of fever and of misery.
Food, moreover, was scarce. Corn when the Indians
had not burnt their fields, the birds of the air when
these could be procured, the wild animals in the woods
when they dared to enter the forests without fear of
being scalped, furnished coarse but sufficient nourish-
ment. But these English, used as they were to their
8 GEORGE WASHINGTON
cabbage and their beef, were not always able to endure
this strange and monotonous diet.
But worst of all were the Indians. Seen from distant
Europe, they were charming; they seemed most at-
tractive and picturesque, their heads decorated with
feathers, their hairy bodies covered with dresses of
leaves, such as we still see represented on the door-
ways of Renaissance houses in France and England,
crowned with the Latin inscription 'AMERICANUS.'
Near at hand, the Indians were worse than savage
beasts, for they were craftier and harder to under-
stand. They roamed, almost invisible, on the out-
skirts of the woods or in the brush about the Euro-
Dean encampments. Their animosity towards the in-
vaders was implacable: whenever they saw a chance,
:hey would attack the white man, burn his house and
lis fields, shoot him in the back with arrows, scalp his
vife and his children. If they were numerous enough
>r if they were drunk, they would even go so far as to
ittack villages.
Certain white colonists, mostly those of French ori-
rin, managed to come to terms with the Indians by
iving amongst them and learning their language.
3ut most of the Virginians had neither enough curios-
ty nor adaptability to mix with this hostile people. It
>ecame a continuous, brutal struggle in which the
vhites left many sanguinary relics.
In 1622, the Indians massacred three hundred and
ifty whites in a single encounter and, several years
ater, they began anew* During the entire seven-
eenth century, and three quarters of the eighteenth
entury, the farms on the fron tiers were exposed to
GENTLEMAN
their attacks. The practical-minded Virginian, with
his sense of order, would never allow himself to think
of the Indian as anything other than a savage. And
the Indian paid him back in his own coin.
So, in Virginia, the people had always to be in readi-
ness. In the beginning the colony was a small, mili-
tary dictatorship where the Governor, in the name of
the King, exercised sovereign power over the land-
owners or the Company. He instructed his adminis-
trators in the art of war and was careful to keep them
in training, nor did he hesitate to rid himself of those
who lacked either courage or discipline. The first gov-
ernors, and especially Berkeley, ruled with iron hand,
but they were successful and the colony lived.
Many colonists, however, died. In 1622, out of more
than five thousand emigrants who had left the shores
of England for those of Virginia, there remained but
eleven hundred. From the middle of the seventeenth
century, fifteen thousand servants were landed in Vir-
ginia from Europe every year, and only twelve thou-
sand of their total number were alive in i683- 4
The others did not all die, it must be admitted.
Many of them managed to emigrate from this cruel
land. The large proportion of those who arrived in
Virginia in the seventeenth century were drawn from
the riffraff of England which sent, without discrimina-
tion, criminals, beggars, vagabonds, young men far
too improvident and wenches far too gay, to her col-
ony. There were also a good number of stupid and
miserable peasants who made the voyage at the ex-
pense of the Company or of the ship's captain. On
arrival, these were sold to the highest bidder. These
io GEORGE WASHINGTON
unfortunate people were known as 'indentured serv-
ants/ or servants bound by contract. They were
forced to serve for five, six, or even ten years without
wages. The law always so far-seeing and just
even specified that, if the husband died during the
voyage after half of the passage had been completed,
the wife must serve double time to compensate the
captain for his loss.
This slavery had but one extenuating feature: it was
temporary, and, once over, its victims became free
again at least in theory. But they were as naked
as they were free, without a penny in a land where
distances were boundless, where there were no towns,
or no modest corners where humble folk might meet
their fellows over a glass of rum, such as could be
found in all the ports of New England. The sort of
democracy which springs from a mingling of weak
creatures who put shoulder to shoulder and incite
each other to action could not come into being in this
exclusively rural land and sparsely populated region.
A discharged servant, to earn his living, was obliged
to return to his former master or some neighbour, or
risk his chances along the frontier or in a near-by
colony. In Europe the aristocracy was uprooted and
dying, and the people growing stronger and stronger,
established itself easily everywhere, while in Virginia
a stolid and powerful aristocracy was fast gaining
control and a weak and dying proletariat was being
wiped out.
Like the feudal system of the Middle Ages, Virginia
was made up of three classes: the serfs, the freedmen,
and the nobility.
GENTLEMAN
To establish a dynasty in the colony one had to ar-
rive with money and references, to be a soldier and a
friend of the Governor, to be able to acquire land, to
marry well.
The Governor was not to be disregarded. He was
placed at the head of the colony, first, as a sort of
absolute despot and, later, as a monarch with a
council chosen by himself to assist him. People who
wanted to have any authority had to keep on good
terms with him and, similarly, if they desired to make
money. If they looked for large concessions, they had
to depend on the Governor. On the other hand, if he
was tactful, he closed his eyes at the propitious mo-
ment, which he did not fail to do if he felt that a man
was worth the trouble.
With his aid, it was easy for a wealthy family to
hold its piece of territory. In this new and sparsely
settled colony the only centres were the plantations
of the big landowners and the parishes. Thus the rich
man had the main body of electors directly in his
power and had no difficulty in getting a place in the
House of Burgesses. Backed by his clergyman, who
was wholly supported by him, he could easily become
vestryman * and so control the local government.
Since the entire activity of Virginia was agricul-
tural, the small landholders were unable to stand up
for their rights and the Assemblies in the villages or
towns, which so soon acquired importance in New
England, could not exist there.
Virginia weakened the weak and strengthened the
* The vestryman of Virginia had functions analogous to those of
our municipal councillors-
ii GEORGE WASHINGTON
strong, "... for he that hath, to him shall be given: and
he that hath not, from him shall be taken even that
which he hath/
A gentleman arriving with money could immedi-
ately obtain lands. And if, subsequently, he bought
slaves, he likewise was entitled to more land in
proportion.
His fortune increased itself like a rolling snow-ball.
It varied according to the current prices of tobacco,
the principal commodity of Virginia.
From 1627 Virginia (founded in 1607) sent five
hundred thousand pounds' worth of tobacco to Lon-
don and soon the whole of Europe was supplied by
America. But the tobacco crops quickly exhausted
the soil and only those could go on producing whose
land and capital were practically unlimited. The
farmer with a small holding dared not thus exhaust
his soil and so he lived along poorly doing a little
scratch-farming. Inevitably the larger landowners
soon occupied the entire territory.
Debts were the thorns in the flesh of the Virginian
aristocrats. The tobacco was marketed in London,
where each important planter had an agent, or mer-
chant, commissioned to sell it at the highest price and
also to do his buying for him. Because of slow trans-
portation and the commercial customs of the times,
one or even two years might elapse before the planter
could know what his harvest had brought in, or what
he had spent. During this period he bought every-
thing that he required in England. Usually, there-
fore, he was deeply in his English agent's debt and
saw very little, if any, of his large gains.
GENTLEMAN 13
The only remedy lay in marriage. The most suc-
cessful families in Virginia were not those who pos-
sessed the most glorious ancestral line, nor the greatest
geniuses, nor the boldest captains, nor those with the
most culture and piety, nor even with an excess of
commercial skill, but those families in which the young
people of each generation had married the most
advantageously, always supplying the plantation
with ready capital. In this and in other respects, the
system was feudal, for the families of Virginia pre-
ferred to leave the family estate to the eldest sons,
while the daughters received a small portion of land
and money. A good marriage enabled a young man
to have a good set of tools as well as credit. Widow-
hood was a blessing from Heaven. The largest fortune
in Virginia, that of the Byrds, was established in this
way. 5
Woe to bachelors and to colonists without credit!
Between 1700 and 1715, the population lived through
cruel years. The War of the Spanish Succession ruined
commerce, shipping was precarious, and credit no-
where given. Only the most solidly established and
the best-married could put up a fight. The middle
classes, established by the fruitful years at the end of
the seventeenth century (1678-170x5), were seriously
affected. For them, the fatal blow was the increasing
importation of blacks. In 1619, the Dutch began to
introduce negro slaves into America and made enor-
mous sums out of this traffic. The planters preferred
the blacks, who were slaves for life, to the whites, who
were only temporary slaves. The exceedingly rough
and difficult work of cultivating tobacco was better
I 4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
done by these savages than by the sons of European
artisans or peasants, and it was easier to force them to
do it. Undoubtedly they were but cattle and were
more accustomed to the climate; also, they were
cheap; a black could be bought for six pounds. Natu-
rally, the best were more costly, but there was always
a slave to suit every purse. For a white servant, the
ship passage alone represented from eight to ten
pounds, while his purchase price was as much as
twenty to thirty pounds.
The introduction of black labour drove the whites
from the large plantations and almost wiped out the
small planters, who were forced to resort to the most
costly manual labour and could not afford to own
enough blacks to organize their plantations on the
model of their well-to-do neighbours. Of course, slav-
ery was illegal and would never have been tolerated
had not the King been concerned in the traffic. Since
he had speculated in the black slave trade, the colony
had no trouble in passing laws for the control of this
traffic and in obtaining their ratification.
About 1730, the suppression of the small holders
was general, and certain favourable laws were voted
in England which helped the big planters to enjoy for
the next two years a period of great prosperity,
The great lords of Virginia were not evil men. Like
all the young and strong, they were cruel, not because
it gave them pleasure but because it was customary
and profitable. They were rich. Some of them owned
as many as 60,000 acres, 6 William Byrd II at his
death left 170,000 acres and Lord Fairfax was master
of a huge property of 6,000,000 acres* In 1783, in the
GENTLEMAN
County of Gloucester, a single planter owned 93 negro
slaves; another, 138; a third, 162. Mr. Daingerfield
had 91 and Mann Page 157. Under such conditions it
was not astonishing that the number of slaves in-
creased from 3,000 in 1689 to 23,000 in 1715, and to
120,000 in 1765.
The present was theirs completely, the future also,
as this aristocracy had laid hands on all productive
land. By 1730 they considered that they held in their
possession all land, good and bad, in the East and all
the land in the West that would have any value, which
they were holding without cultivating it, probably as a
heritage for their children.
Children were numerous, six, eight, and sometimes
ten to a family. It was necessary to find 'places' for
them; because the conditions there were not similar to
those in New England, where, owing to the rapid de-
velopment of social life, varied employments and posts
were open to the young. There were no respected and
well-paid lawyers, none of those urban professions
book-selling, scrivening, trading to support the
middle classes in the towns. Schoolmasters were rare.
Religion did not offer a living. The clergy were few
in number and but little considered. Life in a small,
isolated parsonage, with your nearest neighbour ten
miles away, was not gay, especially as you had to rely
on the few rich planters of the parish for your main-
tenance and with perhaps only a twentieth part of the
population communicating. It would have been nec-
essary to be a saint, and the Church of England could
not boast many of these! In 1661, four fifths of the
parishes in Virginia were without clergymen, and
16 GEORGE WASHINGTON
among the remaining fifth provided with clergy, many
would have been better off without, since the kind of
ecclesiastic sent to them was often drawn from the
scum of England.
It was the ground alone which could always be de-
pended upon to provide. To own it and be a planter
on a large scale was the only certain thing, otherwise
one had to become a soldier to conquer and defend it
or a land-surveyor to explore and exploit it the
only two other professions in Virginia which gave one
social standing.
His plantation always on the shore of a bay or the
edge of a river, so that the English ships might fetch
his tobacco and bring him supplies from overseas, the
rich planter lived in the midst of a real settlement and
surrounded by his white servants and his black slaves.
His clergyman, probably some miles distant, would
receive his visit from time to time on a Sunday and he
would solemnly take part in the Church of England
services to set a good example and to gossip with his
neighbours. Once a year, he would go to the capital,
Jamestown or Williamsburg, a village embellished
with a few official buildings. There, he would dance
at the house of the Governor, drink at the inn, play at
cards or billiards, discuss the overseas news or the
price of land and slaves. There he would plan his
speculations.
Or else he would indulge in a few little gallantries
but very mildly ^ for life was patriarchal, the family
the principal institution and the fountain-head of the
colony. And it was indeed respected* The rather
rude and simple customs allowed of a certain promis-
GENTLEMAN 17
cuity and old-time comradeship, but rendered com-
plicated intrigues and licentiousness out of the ques-
tion. In the manors where abundant hospitality was
proffered, in the inns where everybody crowded to-
gether merrily in some little room, men and women
jostled each other boldly, but amongst the restricted,
shut-in aristocracy, people knew each other far too
well to run any risks of public censure. The ladies,
amiable and wise, presided over the making of shirts
for their husbands and friends; the young girls, light-
headed and amiable, sometimes exchanged clothing
with their boy friends, whiling away the fair summer
morning in these disguises and clapping each other on
the back. But marriages were made at an early age
and husbands were presented by their wives with nu-
merous offspring.
People did not bother much about the intellectual
life. Although Colonel Byrd in his manor at Westover
possessed the largest library in the colonies (four
thousand books in all), his neighbours made little or
no use of it. Nor were there many free schools. The
clergyman took the place of both doctor and peda-
gogue, but was not very gifted in either vocation. The
most distinguished people sent their sons to England
to be educated and to finish their studies at Oxford or
in the Temple. As for the others, some auction sale
would provide at the cheapest rate a cultivated serv-
ant who gave their children as much instruction as
they had need of. In the end a college was founded at
Williamsburg 'William and Mary College' but
at first it was a sorry institution: 'a college without
chapel, learned men, and charter,' as they said. 7
18 GEORGE WASHINGTON
If the great lords of Virginia were not great scholars,
neither were they fools. After the year 1735, they
were responsible for the best edited gazette of the New
World; from their estates, they kept in touch with
everything new that happened across the sea. They
provided themselves with all the luxuries from Eng-
land, where they did not fail to go regularly to super-
intend the sale of their tobacco or to find a wife. They
brought back with them the spirit and the gaiety of
this young England, so prepared to invade the world
and so radiant with vitality. It was England that
provided them with everything, from the nails of their
shoes to the hair for their wigs, which, like William
Byrd, they sent to be repaired in London. Their
lives, now solitary, now social, were continuously lux-
urious and gay.
We can hear the echo of their laughter when we
read from the newspapers of those days. In its issue
of the yth of October, 1737, the ' Virginia Gazette' an-
nounced:
) October ?. We have advice from Hanover
County, that on St. Andrew's Day, being the 3Oth of
November next, there are to be Horse Races, and several
other Diversions, for the Entertainment of the Gentlemen
and Ladies, at the Old Field near Capt. John Bickertotfs
in that County, (if permitted by the Hon. William Byrd,
Esq., Proprietor of the said Land), the Substance of which
are as follows, viz*
L It is proposed, That 20 Horses or Mares do run round
a Three Miles Course, for a Prize of the Value of Five
Pounds, according to the usual Rules of Racing: That
every Horse that runs shall be first enter'd by Mr, Joseph
GENTLEMAN 19
Fox\ and that no Person have the Liberty of putting in
a Horse, unless he is a Subscriber towards defraying the
Expence of this Entertainment, and pay to Mr. Fox Half
a Pistole of it, at entring the Horse.
II. That a Hat of the Value of 20 s. be cudgell'd for; and
that after the first Challenge made, the Drums are to beat
once every Quarter of an Hour, for Three Challenges, round
the Ring; on no Answer made, the Person challenging, to
be entitled to the Prize; and none to play with their Left
Hand.
III. That a Violin be played for by 20 Fiddlers, and to
be given to him that shall be adjudged to play the best:
No person to have the Liberty of playing, unless he brings
a fiddle with him. After the Prize is won, they are all to
play together, and each a different Tune; and to be treated
by the Company.
IV. That 12 Boys of 12 Years of Age, do run 112 Yards,
for a Hat of the Value of 12 Shillings.
V. That a Flag be flying on the said Day, 30 Feet
high.
VI. That a handsome Entertainment be provided for
the subscribers, and their Wives; and such of them who
are not so happy as to have Wives, may treat any other
Lady. And that convenient Booths be erected for that
Purpose.
VII. That Drums, Trumpets, Hautboys, &c. will be
provided, to play at the said Entertainment.
VIII. That after Dinner, the Royal Healths, his Honour
the Governor's, &c. are to be drank.
IX. That a Quire of Ballads be sung for, by a Number of
Songsters; the best Songsters to have the Prize, and all of
them to have Liquor sufficient to clear their Wind-Pipes.
X. That a Pair of Silver Buckles be Wrestled for, by
a certain Number of brisk young Men.
XL That a Pair of handsome Shoes be danced for.
XII. That a Pair of handsome silk Stockings of One
Pistole Value, be given to the handsomest young Country
20 GEORGE WASHINGTON
Maid that appears in the Field: With many other Whimsi-
cal and Comical Diversions, too tedious to mention here/
To make perfectly plain what the spirit of the fete
was to be, the newspaper added:
And as this Mirth is designed to be purely innocent, and
void of Offence, all Persons resorting there are desir'd
to behave themselves with Decency and Sobriety; the
Subscribers being resolv'd to discountenance all Immoral-
ity with the utmost Rigour.
Such was Virginia in its gay simplicity at the begin-
ning of the eighteenth century.
THE DYNASTY or THE WASHINGTONS 8
Neither too high, neither too low such was the
social status of the Washingtons for five centuries in
England. They belonged to a good family and they
were landowners. Their lives were always led in con-
tact with the peasantry and in contact with the higher
aristocracy, to which latter, however, they never quite
belonged. Theirs was a deep-rooted sense of honour,
an irresistible love of the earth. But they did not store
up great wealth; they bequeathed to their descendants
neither great estates nor legends of heroic exploits.
They were the sort of people whose legacy consisted
only in coats-of-arms and account-books.
They retained certain of their old traditions: they
named their sons John, or Lawrence, or Augustine;
they were good Anglicans and faithful royalists; they
respected the institution of the family. And God re-
warded them: in the beginning of the seventeenth
GENTLEMAN 21
century, they really believed that they were about
to climb the ladder at whose foot they had hereto-
fore languished, for two of them were knighted, Sir
William and Sir John. History, however, has been
pleased to leave them in their niches: dignified but
empty names.
Another brother became a clergyman. He went
through Oxford, as family tradition demanded, and
with more distinction than they had hoped; but less
satisfactory, indeed, was his marriage. He wedded
Amphyllis Rhoades, the daughter of a farmer or of a
servant it is not known whether for love, by neces-
sity or by accident. This did not prevent his holding a
good living but he was deprived of it later by the
Puritans on being accused of being a wine-bibber,
a libertine, and a royalist. So he and his wife and
children were relegated to a little parish where he
could barely scrape together enough to live on (1643).
He was forced to submit to circumstances, but he
and his family had a most difficult time of it. He
died in 1652, and his wife followed him in 1654. The
children, no longer able to keep going, emigrated:
John in 1658, then Lawrence and then Martha, the
daughter.
They went to Virginia. Throngs of Cavaliers had
in fifteen years patronized her shores so enthusiasti-
cally that between 1640 and 1670, the population in-
creased from fifteen thousand to seventy thousand.
This was, indeed, a good time to settle there. The
eastern territory had been cleared and rendered
healthy to live in, the villages and the plantations
M GEORGE WASHINGTON
were organized and the Indians driven far from the
coast. Civil institutions and the aristocracy had be-
come well established there. For one who belonged to
the ruling classes, life no longer presented too many
difficulties, as the power of the Puritans was rapidly
waning. The loyal Virginians could at last breathe
freely.
John began well and adapted himself rapidly. He
had tried the navy, but it did not please him as he was
unlucky in this attempt and had had as associate a
man whom he subsequently discovered to be a cheat
and a fanatic. After this experience, at the age of
twenty-five, he was glad to land in Virginia.
Without delay, he married Ann, the daughter of
Nathaniel Pope, Lieutenant-Governor, a wealthy man
who was both important and virtuous. Thus, John
Washington was immediately able to own his planta-
tion near the mouth of the Potomac, build his house
there, and cut a fine figure as a gentleman.
At this time the important Virginian dynasties
particularly that of the Byrds were being founded,
and John's family took its place among them. By
three successive marriages he established new relation-
ships and became rooted in the soil. After Ann's
death, John married the widow of two of his neigh-
bours; when she died, he contracted a new alliance
with the widow of Captain John Appleton (in this
way becoming the possessor of fourteen thousand
acres of ground in the County of Westmoreland), and
built two houses there. This estate, for long a family
centre, was known consecutively as 'Bridge Creek, 1
Tope Creek/ 'Westover/ and 'Nominy/ John Wash-
GENTLEMAN 23
ington, furthermore, was elected Burgess and nomi-
nated Colonel of the Virginian militia.
He even conducted a war and led his troops against
the Indians, an event which was perhaps the most no-
torious and the most disturbing in his life. He killed
some Indians, but their brother Indians, and the jeal-
ous allies of the Virginians, the Maryland people,
claimed that these Indians had not been killed ac-
cording to rule, since they had come as plenipotenti-
aries. An investigation was held and the Governor of
Virginia, Sir Thomas Berkeley, decided in favor of the
Indians: he censured John Washington. Public opin-
ion in Virginia, on the other hand, sided with him.
For them, the important thing was not how the Indi-
ans were killed, but the fact that they were killed.
And the Indians, in their artless fashion, showed that
they were of the same mind, for they conferred upon
John the title of 'Conocotarius/ which means *de-
stroyer of villages/ and bespeaks admiration.
In 1677 ^ e died a respected and honoured man.
At his death, he left a family very well settled and
in fairly good circumstances. The four children by his
first wife, Lawrence, John, Elizabeth, and Ann, were
surrounded by all kinds of relatives. The land he be-
queathed to them was worth seventy thousand dollars
at the time of his death a large amount in those
days and he had actually been far-seeing enough,
through association with a friend, to obtain a conces-
sion of five thousand acres on the Potomac. Besides
this, he left two thousand dollars' worth of personal
property in America, and other property in England.
24 GEORGE WASHINGTON
He had reestablished the Washington dynasty and
on a higher rank.
Nor were his efforts wasted: purchases of land and
speculations in tobacco continued to provide as well
as Providence.
Lawrence, the eldest son, married Mildred Warner,
the daughter of Augustin Warner, a wealthy man and
a member of the King's Council When Lawrence
died at the age of thirty-six in 1697, his widow mar-
ried George Gale, but died shortly afterwards in Eng-
land, where she had gone to look after her inheritance.
Augustine, Lawrence's second son, was left the
family lands, while the eldest son, John, took over
those of his mother. For one hundred and eighty
pounds Augustine bought back the land on the up-
per Potomac from his sister and, in this way, recon-
stituted his grandfather's estate.
Augustine began as a navigator but as this was not
a vocation which suited the Washingtons, he soon lost
interest in the sea and began to till the soil from that
time on. He was an active, enterprising man who
knew how to advance himself. With a good family
name and useful relations to lean upon, he soon
reached the top.
At the age of twenty-one, Augustine married Jane
Butler, who died thirteen years later, leaving him with
two sons, Lawrence and Augustine, besides a daugh-
ter, Mildred. Shortly afterwards, on the i6th of
March, 1731, he married again, this time Mary Ball,
by whom he had six children: George, Elizabeth,
Samuel, John Augustine, Charles, and Mildred. The
GENTLEMAN 25
Balls were good, simple people, and their origin was
more common than that of the Washingtons; Mary
Ball Washington never allowed her husband to forget
it during her lifetime. Otherwise she was a good wife
to him.
In the meanwhile, Augustine was not wasting his
time. He was renewing on a more intimate basis cer-
tain relationships which were to unite his family with
the powerful Fairfax dynasty. He decided to make
gentlemen of his two older sons and took them to
England himself, placing them in Appleby's School,
patronized by the Fairfaxes, using the occasion to
make certain arrangements for the importation of
servants, while his wife remained in America to look
after the house and the younger children (1737).
It was his intention, on his return, to fit the estate
for his eldest son and to install himself on the upper
Potomac on the land acquired by his grandfather and
which was known successively as 'Hunting Creek,'
'Epsewasson' and 'Mount Vernon.' He built a house
there, became one of the important personages of
the neighbourhood, and was chosen vestryman of the
Truro Church and member of the House of Burgesses.
He took rather a good deal of power into his own
hands in forcing upon his colleagues a certain Charles
Green as vicar, a man who was neither esteemed by
them nor was worthy of their esteem.
This accomplished, he launched into a speculation.
In Virginia had been discovered some iron deposits,
and a company < The Principo Company of Virginia'
was formed to exploit them. Now at this time the
colonies produced almost no iron and England her-
26 GEORGE WASHINGTON
self very little, so this was a rare and precious com-
modity, useful both in civil life and for the army; the
Principo Company, backed by its patriotic enthusi-
asm and its desire to make money, rushed to the fore.
It would appear that Augustine played an important
r61e in it as twelfth part owner. In order to keep an
eye on his interests, he went to live near the centre of
this exploitation, or close to Fredericksburg, a ham-
let which had just been laid out and which already
boasted a number of houses. He brought his entire
family to this spot called Ferry Farm (or River Farm)
on the Rappahannock and, in 1742, he was made a trus-
tee of the town. As for the company, it developed well
and, in 1751, exported three thousand tons of iron at a
time when Pennsylvania produced only two hundred
tons, and England, only seven teen thousand tons in all*
Augustine, however, was destined not to enjoy for
long the devotion of his little family nor the promises
of wealth, for on the I2th of April, 1743, ^ e died of an
attack of gout which went to his stomach, as gout did
in those days. He was forty-nine years old and his
second wife, thirty-nine.
He had been a good husband, a good father, a good
worker, and a good Virginian, But he died too young.
To be successful in Virginia, a man had to outlive his
rivals, his neighbours, and his wives.
THE EDUCATION* OF GEORGE WASHINGTON,
A YOUNGER SON
Augustine Washington left a family which, though
prosperous, was far too numerous; each member did
its utmost, however, to get on.
10RK.TOWN -.
fNMESTOWN
' XK^
GENTLEMAN 27
His eldest son, Lawrence, once his formal education
was finished, returned from England; he was given the
land on the upper Potomac, and settled there. 9 For an
eldest son he seems neither to have been very strong
in body nor in character, but at least he knew enough
to marry well; he wedded the rich and radiant Ann
Fairfax, the Honourable William Fairfax's daughter.
The second son, Augustine, also returned from
England at the end of his schooling, and he estab-
lished himself in the old estate on the lower Potomac,
where he contracted a most judicious alliance with the
wealthy Ann Aylett. So much for these two sons.
The fate of Mrs. Washington, the widow, was a less
prosperous one. She continued to live at the Ferry
Farm near Fredericksburg. She had her own for-
tune and also the interest on the portions left to her
eldest son George and to her other children by their
father.
Her eldest son, who was his father's third son,
was really left very barely provided for. His portion
consisted of a farm on the Rappahannock, three
morsels of ground near Fredericksburg, some fields on
the Deep Run, and a few slaves; actually the whole of
it only enough to endow a very small farmer.
Destiny, which in the seventeenth century, so it
seems, marked out two Washingtons as the founders
of a noble line and the legators of wealth to their
children, in the eighteenth century appointed the two
sons of Augustine's first marriage as the actual
maintainers of this noble line of Washingtons; whilst
Mary Ball's children, less fortunate and too numer-
ous, were once more relegated to that inferior status
a8 GEORGE WASHINGTON
from which the family had taken so much pains to
extricate itself forever.
The social advancement of the Washingtons be-
tween 1650 and 1743 seemed only to benefit Lawrence
and Augustine not the little George. On the con-
trary, for upon him devolved the role of younger son
without land in a country where land was every-
thing.
There was nothing for him to hope for but luck.
He had it.
He was born on the nth of February, 1732, at ten
o'clock in the morning on the lower Potomac pro-
perty. In 1735, he went with his father and the rest of
the family to the estate on the upper Potomac. In
J 739> he took part in the new migration which was to
settle them on the Rappahannock. He was with his
mother when his father died and he remained with
her.
Would he be a Ball or a Washington? There was,
on the one hand, the house near Fredericksburg, filled
with children and scantily supplied with money,
where a widow struggled sullenly against discomfort,
very inadequately helped, so it would seem, by the
merchants, the lawyers, in short, all the prosperous
family connections. On the other hand, there were
the two gentlemen as prosperously established on their
estates and surrounded by as highly respectable
families as any in the colony.
Mary Ball Washington was not very particular
about her person or her manners or her style. What
mattered to her the most were her material interests,
the importance of which she exaggerated, perhaps,
GENTLEMAN 29
and she never succeeded in hiding her disdain for all
the special preoccupations involving military honour
and glory. For the rest, she was a mother more
anxious than tender, more tender than intelligent,
more intelligent than courageous, more courageous
than gentle. She liked to have her children gathered
round her and was afraid of seeing them stray.
Thunder terrified her. Her education was but slight.
In fact, the dawning history of the United States
reveals her illuminated by a hard and simple life
about which it can record nothing discreditable. By
its obscurity, this history even has the tact to leave
us the privilege of assigning to her all the charm that
it is natural to imagine in women.
But she was decidedly plain.
The two Washington sons, brought up in England,
had excellent manners.
After his schooling, Lawrence lived the life of
a gentleman. During the War of the Austrian Succes-
sion and the contests between Spain and England, he
took part as second commanding officer of the Vir-
ginian troops in the English expeditionary army
which, under General Vernon, attacked Cartagena
(1741). Truly, this was a miserable campaign: the
Spanish defended themselves too well and the climate
achieved what the Spanish cannons had begun. The
English were forced to retreat, leaving many of their
men on the field and only taking back with them as
trophies all sorts of contagious diseases,
Lawrence lost his health there, for he contracted
the germs of consumption (pulmonary tuberculosis)
which never left him. He just missed losing his good
30 GEORGE WASHINGTON
name also, for, on their return, certain of his com-
panions in arms told unfriendly tales about him, al-
though two centuries later, it is impossible to dis-
tinguish slander from truth. Whatever may have
occurred, public opinion was with Lawrence, since, on
his return and immediately after his father's death,
the Fairfaxes, 10 who could choose whom their daughter
was to marry, did not refuse him her hand.
He must have had a free conscience, because he
called his new house 'Mount Vernon' in memory of
this campaign which he must have looked upon as the
most striking and glorious event in his life. He lived
like a great lord, without any cares, on his twenty-five
hundred acres of ground. Quite near to him, on their
estate, 'Belvoir,' was his wife's family, the Fairfaxes,
with whom he continually exchanged visits. Young
couples abounded at Mount Vernon and Belvoir, and
life in both places was elegant and lordly. They
formed a clan. Lawrence saw to it that he was elected
Burgess and for the short time that God granted him
life, he must have been one of the great figures of
Virginia.
What a contrast between the existence little George
led at Fredericksburg and the life he saw at Mount
Vernon when he visited in his brother's house! Un-
fortunately, he clung closely to his mother. She was
responsible for his name of George, which was not
a traditional one with the Washingtons, for he was
called after her guardian, George Eckeridge. It would
also appear that he owed his slightly heavy physical
appearance to his mother as well as certain traits of
character. Like her, he was obstinate, and, like her,
GENTLEMAN 31
he seemed more fitted for an active physical life than
for intellectual pursuits.
He was not urged, really, to apply himself to these.
They did not send him to England to receive the
elegant education of the English aristocracy, nor was
he sent to Williamsburg to be instructed with the sons
of the Virginian gentlemen. 11 He received the first
rudiments from a servant bought at the market. In
the Rappahannock house, he studied the sermons of
the Bishop of Exeter and pored over 'The Young
Man's Companion/ one of those copious lesson-books
such as were given to children in those days, teaching
them the three 'RY as well as supplying them with
a mixture of useful lore: how to draw up a will, to sail
a ship, to make ink or cider, to cure illnesses, or to
write letters to a fiancee.
Following upon the death of his father, he went to
school at the house of Mr. Williams in Westover (he
was then living with his brother Augustine), and at
that of the Reverend Marye in Fredericksburg. The
only appreciable gifts of these professors were some of
the rudiments of Latin, fairly good handwriting, and
faulty spelling. He must have learnt a great deal more
from his innumerable cousins and little friends with
whom he played, fought, swam, rode horseback,
rolled on the grass, and who helped him to build up
his strong, resistant, active body, perhaps the most
important possession he was to acquire during these
youthful years.
Thus, like his training and his learning, all that he
was taught was simple and limited: no fine manners,
very little Latin, some exact and practical ideas
32 GEORGE WASHINGTON
these were engraved upon the child's receptive mind.
Unlike most of the great men of the eighteenth cen-
tury, he learnt first of all, not words, but how to act,
how to calculate, how to reason, and this discipline did
not shatter the character of the silent, strong-minded
child.
Since no one knew whether the youth would turn
out beggar or king and since everybody believed that
he would merely be the younger son in a needy family,
such an education was not a hindrance, but seemed
highly suitable. They did not insist upon his having
ample instruction, as they hoped to place him early
in life. Lawrence thought of sending George to sea;
many others before him thus either made their for-
tunes or lost their lives, to the great relief of their
families. And as George was robust, brave, and
capable, he would no doubt have been a success. It
was a hard life, however, in which he would have had
to begin at the humblest work; he would have had to
set out on a trading-vessel where, although the wages
were rather good, he would have risked being forcibly
pressed into the navy- Since the Washingtons were
in far-away Virginia, their influence at Court would
not have been sufficient to obtain for young George
an officer's commission. The Ball uncle wrote a force-
ful letter from England stating his disapproval of the
plan, and Mrs. Washington, who was already terrified
for her son, refused to allow George to leave, and he
does not appear to have insisted. For these young
provincials of Virginia, wholly attached to their lands
and to the world they lived in, the sea had not the
GENTLEMAN 33
same attraction as it had for the children of Boston
and other American ports who all turned naturally to
salt water.
What could they do with George Washington?
His brothers were decent fellows and very fond of
him. Also, although he was a younger son, he had
certain special rights, for in his father's will it was
written that, in case of the decease of Lawrence,
George was to inherit the Mount Vernon estate. So
his brothers took up his cause. Instead of leaving him
in Fredericksburg to lead a sluggish life with his
mother, Augustine took him to Wakefield; previously,
Lawrence had invited him to Mount Vernon and
introduced him to Belvoir. The Washington cousins
had received him at c Chotank/ where he made life-
long friends with Lawrence and Robin.
Rich or poor, George was perfectly at home in
Virginia an instinct which seemed deeper-rooted in
him than any desire for change. Lawrence, who began
to notice the ravages of his disease, decided to have
his young brother live with him. So George was
installed in the midst of the Fairfaxes. He rather
veered towards the trade of land-surveyor, in which
he was sure to succeed, protected as he was by families
so influential and so richly provided with lands.
Moreover, this trade suited the young man's char-
acter, for these lengthy circuits over deserted tracts
required moral energy and reserve; precision, also,
was needed for the marking of boundaries and honesty
was an integral part in such work. As a reward, he
would acquire an understanding of the people, the
34 GEORGE WASHINGTON
country, the Indians. And his day's wages would be
good.
This was the first stage of George Washington's
career and the first sure guarantee his class was to give
him that they would hold by him. His decision united
him with Virginia as well as with the Fairfax and
Washington clans.
Now that we have left him for the moment to dwell
in the bosom of his family a grown-up, awkward
youth we may presume to pause a little to consider
this person whose fame was to spread so far and whose
career was to confine itself to such precise and narrow
limits.
At sixteen, George Washington did not evince the
same brilliant ingenuity shown by Franklin, a printer
of Boston, at the same age; nor were his the divine
gifts of Voltaire that favourite of the most refined
society which ever existed. Even so, he was neither
a fool nor a bumpkin: the character and the precision
of his mind were apparent from the days of his earliest
training. If he was not quick to seize an idea, if dreams
came seldom into the province of his imagination, if
he was practically unable to define or to express his
feelings, at least from an early age he was able to
recognise and appreciate things as they were. Indeed,
upon this, his entire life and all his actions were hinged
so rigidly and exactly that he inspired sympathy in
everyone he met. The young Franklin, the young
Voltaire, the young Rousseau were uprooted: the
young Washington was solidly rooted in a soil he
loved and which suited him. In his peregrinations as
GENTLEMAN 35
a boy from one Virginia manor to another, he learned
more than Latin, French, and fencing. He learned to
know his own country, its climate, its seasons, its
yield, the disposition of its inhabitants, the character
of its notables, the value of its Negroes, in fact, the
import of every cloud on its horizon.
It would seem as if all the great men of the century
strove, in so far as their strength, their intelligence,
and their resources permitted, to adapt themselves to
the mightiest possible social scheme. Voltaire, Frank-
lin, Rousseau, Frederick, would have liked the world
as theatre and all humanity as audience. George
Washington was instinctively prompted to adapt
himself in the best possible way to a limited scheme of
things. He was perfectly at home in Virginia: he
would be a perfect Virginian. And upon this single
card he would risk his entire life and fortune.
Directed, like all his family, by a feudal instinct
rather than by the customs of the times, he did not
try to exceed his capabilities. He was not obsessed by
the longing for novelty nor troubled by the unknown
in this century of great discoveries. The verbal in-
toxication to which humanity had been given over
since the Renaissance was alien to him. For Washing-
ton, words were enemies to be battled with before
they were conquered, while things were near and
intimate friends which he could resort to and control.
Upon his silence and realism, Puritan society and
official writers have built up the holy legend of a de-
vout and over-sensitive child obsessed by moral ideas
and given to preaching. All the documents and all the
traces he left of his childhood disprove this, but when
36 GEORGE WASHINGTON
he became the national hero, this legend followed the
evolution of the national idea. Before they created
Prohibition, the preachers of New England created
a type which they called Washington, Now, in the
age of jazz, a new national idea seems to be in process
of formation: we are shown a Washington who, from
his childhood days, was both cynical and brutal;
a young under-officer absorbed by love-affairs, drink,
and cards; an ignoramus as foolish as a goose. Never
would Washington's silence lead us to believe these
things nor would the unskilful and stammering liter-
ary efforts he has bequeathed to future generations
show him up as inferior in any way to his age or times.
These are only rendered ludicrous by harsh investi-
gation and are, in fact, but the extremely touching
efforts of an already developed male mentality and
a still clumsy body to adapt themselves to the
imbecility of his day.
In the days of his youth, his modesty, his modera-
tion, and his self-restraint are evident, and the joy
with which he grew active and silent in that rich and
happy Virginia of the Fairfaxes and the Washingtons.
GEORGE WASHINGTON'S IDEAS
It is no longer possible for us to know how he rode
a horse or how he dressed his hair, but we do know
how he thought. This is worth taking into considera-
tion, because in the space of seven years this youth,
with the mere aid of his prudence and luck, was to join
the first ranks in his part of the country.
Amongst the papers of his childhood days has been
found a carefully preserved pamphlet given him by
GENTLEMAN 37
his teachers to copy, study, and learn. It is entitled:
'The Rules of Conduct and Politeness/ In substance
this book is taken from a treatise of decorum com-
posed by the Jesuits of La Fleche in 1595. As in-
structors of the nobility and the ruling classes of
France, these good fathers had chosen to codify and
summarize all that a young man should know in order
to conduct himself properly in society. As these
fathers have always taken pains to adapt themselves
to the world of their day, they looked at things from
a practical point of view. Their rules were based on
usage and expediency rather than upon fundamental
principles, and these, even if mentioned, were never
developed. The treatise was little concerned with
God, but mostly with men.
To this pragmatism the success of this little book
was no doubt due, for, in the seventeenth century, it
was translated into Latin, Spanish, German, English,
and Bohemian, and went into numerous editions in
all of these countries, particularly in England, where
a later Jesuit, Hawkins, spiced it to suit the taste of
that country. It was this work they drew upon for
Washington's education. The summary of good man-
ners and aristocratic precepts of the Old World served
as a model for the behaviour of this younger son of
Virginia. It pleased them to abridge it still further,
rendering even more concrete its information.
Thus, out of one hundred and ten maxims (a few
of which apply to several subjects) only one mentions
God, one conscience, and two kindliness, while twenty-
one of them are consecrated to cleanliness and fifty-
seven to politeness.
38 GEORGE WASHINGTON
Before all else is placed the social spirit: the first
maxim proclaims: 'Each action performed in society
should show some sign of respect for those pres-
ent.' xa
And then George Washington was instructed in
great detail as to cleanliness: 'Rule 100. Do not
clean your teeth with the table cloth, the table napkin,
the fork or the knife but, if others do so, use a tooth-
pick/ 'Rule 95. Do not put your meat into your
mouth with the knife, at hand; do not spit out the
fruit-stones of tarts into the dish, and throw nothing
under the table/
Politeness was insisted upon at length: 'Rule 77.
Talk business with people at opportune moments and
do not whisper in company/ 'Rule 42. Adapt your
bowings and scrapings according to the rank of him
you address, for it is absurd to speak in the same fash-
ion to a clown and to a prince/ Then followed tact
and artfulness: 'Do not be a flatterer; do not play
with those who do not desire that you play with
them/ 'Rule 23. When you see a crime being
punished, you may feel satisfied within yourself, but
always show the semblance of pity for the guilty man
who is about to submit to his suffering/ These took
up much more space than the virtues, although the
latter are not forgotten either, especially those which
procure social advantages for man, such as acts of
kindliness: 'Rule 22. Do not show pleasure in the
misfortunes of others, even if they be your enemies/
'Rule 44. If a man does all that he can, do not
blame him/ 'Rule 50. Do not be quick to welcome
unfavourable gossip about your neighbours/
GENTLEMAN 39
Certain other of the Christian virtues are included
amongst these recommendations:
Chastity: 'Rule 7. Do not undress in the pre-
sence of other people. And do not leave your room
half naked/
Humility: 'Rule 63. A man should not prize him-
self for his successes nor for the qualities of his mind,
still less for his riches, his virtue or his family/
Benevolence: 'Rule 89. Speak no ill of absent
ones, for it is unfair.'
Respect for God, for parents, for conscience: 'Rule
108. When you speak of God or of his attributes,
let it be seriously and with reverence. Honour your
natural parents and obey them even if they are poor/
'Rule no. Strive to keep alive in your heart that
little spark of celestial fire called Conscience/
Thus the spiritual life was neither denied nor
systematically ignored, but relegated to the back-
ground, while practical, realistic considerations came
to the fore and the social instinct dominated. Rule 82
says prudently: 'Do not enter upon that which you
cannot carry to a successful finish and be careful to
keep your promises/ 'Rule 48. Where you blame
others, see that you yourself are without reproach, for
example carries more weight than precept/ And Rule
69 teaches: 'In important matters remain on the
strongest side/ We no longer know whether we are
listening to Machiavelli, Cardinal Mazarin, or the
Reverend Father Suarez!
But all this was useful knowledge to a young aristo-
crat destined to live in a society at once feudal, nar-
row, hierarchic, and proud.
40 GEORGE WASHINGTON
Washington never forgot these things.
He did not know so much that he could forget them.
His spelling was barbarous, his style unformed, his
manners clumsy. He had a heavy face, a heavy body,
a heavy mind. And they hurried to finish his educa-
tion so that he would be able to earn his living as
land-surveyor and take his place with the best people
of Virginia. In Fredericksburg he studied fencing
with Van Braam, the Dutchman, for whom he con-
ceived a great admiration, for Van Braam spoke
several languages and was of some importance.
Sergeant Woods instructed him in the art of war. He
also took music lessons. And his desire to please
carried him even further: when he visited the Fair-
faxes at Belvoir, and later Lord Fairfax at Green-
way Court, he read from the best authors in order to
give form to his style or to his thoughts, but, above all,
to learn to please. At sixteen, he made the discovery
of the 'Spectator/ through which at the age of four-
teen the young Franklin had formed his style.
His real school, however, was life. He abandoned
himself to it without reticence, for he was filled with
the joy and the excitement of youth. The restlessness
which oppresses so many existences or sends them
astray at the beginning does not seem to have bur-
dened him. Although he displayed extraordinary
physical activity, no document or tradition can show
us a single instance where he was influenced by dream-
ing, by vain or unsettled desires, by remote aspira-
tions. The immediate and concrete present absorbed
him. From 1748 to 1751 he was continually moving
about, whether to visit his family, to survey land, or
GENTLEMAN 41
to go in quest of such persons whose beautiful eyes
enticed him. His centre was Fredericksburg, where he
owned some property and met his young brothers,
especially his favourite, John Augustine, to whom he
confided his disappointments in love and his secret
adventures. There was also Westover, where he went
to see his brother Augustine; Mount Vernon, forty-
three miles to the north and the family seat because
Lawrence lived there and which in turn became the
centre of George's interests because so many beautiful
young women were to be found in the vicinity; Bel-
voir, neighbouring on Mount Vernon, where the Fair-
faxes welcomed him so generously; last, Chotank,
where he went to meet the true friends of his child-
hood, the Washington cousins, and to imbibe their
advice as older and more experienced lovers.
He went backwards and forwards between each of
these points as perfect brother, perfect son, perfect
cousin, perfect and ingenuous lover, and always, as
perfect gentleman. He would stop to rest at inns, to
take a drink or to listen to the chatter of other travel-
lers. With his brothers, cousins, friends, or protectors,
he was gay, played at cards, whist or loo. He amused
himself with billiards, lost or gained, but always care-
fully marked the amounts in his notebook. On all
these occasions, he bore a serious air, which makes us
realize how faithful he was to the Rules of Conduct.
Better, he endeavoured to apply them, and to
improve upon them.
Although literature was not his strong point, he
began to write a diary in March, 1748. He was then
sixteen years and one month old. In it he meant to
42 GEORGE WASHINGTON
set down all the beautiful sights and all the useful
information connected with a trip in Western Virginia
with his new friend, George W. Fairfax, seven years
his senior. Accompanied by several surveyors, the
two had gone to mark the boundaries and subdivide
Lord Fairfax's huge estates. George felt quite a
'grown up gentleman* in such good company and on
so important a mission. He recorded these discoveries
faithfully and with amusing solemnity, and, even to-
day, a certain youthful fragrance emanates from
them. Three of them deserve to be related here.
He learned how he must sleep on a campaign:
Tuesday y March \$ih. [After a long day's surveying
in the rain.] We set out early with Intent to Rune round
ye sd. Land but being taken in a Rain and it Increasing
very fast obliged us to return, it clearing about one o' Clock
and our time being to Precious to Loose, we a second time
ventured out and Worked hard till Night and then returned
to Pennington's. We got our supper and was lighted into
a Room and I not being so good a woodsman as ye rest of
my Company, striped myself very orderly and went into
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 Lise, Fleas, &c.
I was glad to get up (as soon as y. Light was carried from
us) I put on my Cloths and lay as my Companions. Had
we not been very tired I am sure we would not have slep'd
much that night. I made a Promise not to^ Sleep so from
that time forward, chusing rather to sleep in y. open Air
before a fire. I3
This anecdote, related by himself, shows us George
ever faithful to his school-book. He courts cleanli-
ness, he shuns filth, and he observes Rule No. 7: 'Do
GENTLEMAN 43
not undress in the presence of other people. And do
not leave your room half naked/ It also shows his
ability to learn and his promptness in acquiring ex-
perience. He was sixteen; he looked at things as seri-
ously as a man of forty, combined with the artlessness
of his years.
On the 23d of March, 1748, he made another
discovery, which he tells as follows:
Rained till about two o'Clock and cleared when we were
agreeably surpris'd at y. sight of thirty odd Indians com-
ing from War with only one Scalp. We had some liquor
with us of which we gave them part, it elevating their
Spirits put them in y. Humour of Dauncing of whom we
had a War Daunce. there manner of Dauncing is as fol-
lows viz. They clear a Large Circle and make a Great
Fire in y. middle then seats themselves around it. Y.
Speaker makes a grand speech telling them in what Man-
ner they are to Daunce. after he has finished y. best
Dauncer jumps up as one awaked out of a Sleep and runs
and Jumps about y. Ring in a most comical Play. ye.
Muzick is a Pot half (full) of Water with a Durskin
Stretched over it as tight as it can and a goard with some
Shott in it to Rattle and a Piece of an horses tail tied to it
to make it look fine. Y. one keeps Rattling and y. other
Drumming all y. while y. others is Dauncing. I4
This spectacle was as good as a circus. It delighted
the young George, but he soon had enough of it, for,
the following day, he notes :
Friday ', March i$th. Nothing Remarkable on thurs-
day but only being with y. Indians all day so shall skip it.
And finally on Monday, the 4th of April, Providence
taught him still a third lesson:
This morning [he writes], Mr. Fairfax left us with Intent
44 GEORGE WASHINGTON
to go down to ye. mouth of ye. Branch, we did two Lots
and was attended by a great Company of People, men,
women, and Children that attended us through ye. Woods
as we went showing their I really think they seemed to
be as Ignorant a Set of People as the Indians. They would
never speak English but when spoken to they speak all
Dutch....
So it was, in 1748, the young Virginian became ac-
quainted with the three categories of human beings
composing society: Anglo-Saxons, Indians, and others
who are neither Anglo-Saxons nor Indians. He found
the Indians comical and pleasant if there was alcohol
to give them, the others merely ridiculous and not
even deserving the honour of description.
As for the Anglo-Saxons . . . they surveyed the earth
and they owned it.
There was no further need to prompt him in this
particular lesson nor to repeat it. The love of the
earth which had brought the white man to Virginia,
which had created and established feudalism in
Virginia, was as deeply rooted in George Washington
as the instinct for life.
At the age of sixteen, he began to earn money. 15
In 1748, the Fairfaxes paid him a doubloon, or six
pistoles a day (seven dollars or twenty- two dollars),
for surveying. Even if he did not work every day, he
earned quite enough. In July, 1749, through the
influence of his brothers and the Fairfaxes, he was
appointed official surveyor for Culpeper County at
one .hundred pounds sterling a year.
This money did not go for warlike concerns nor for
amorous attentions nor for literary frivolities. With
GENTLEMAN 45
the first hundred pounds sterling, George Washington
bought five hundred acres of uncultivated land in
Frederick County, and, as this money had been earned
by his surveying, he named his property 'Bullskin
Plantation,' because of the cowhide trousers he had
worn when riding.
From 1748 to 1750, George Washington rushed
from one end of Virginia to the other; he surveyed the
land and did his best to lose his heart. All his biog-
raphers have discoursed at length upon his various
amours, upon his sighs and his rebuffs, but of all this,
nothing has come down to us but vague, confused
echoes and a few love-letters with muddled dates
and names. On the other hand, his account-books
precise and undebatable are at our disposal to
prove to us that even while sighing, the young George
Washington never forgot to think, and that his
thoughts were precise and practical. In July, 1749,
his social position was good, and, in 1750, he pur-
chased more land, four hundred and fifty-six acres,
from James MacCracken, for one hundred and twelve
pounds sterling; in 1752, he acquired five hundred and
fifty-two acres from Captain Johnson, next to his
Bullskin Plantation.
So, thanks to surveying and thrift, this younger son
was in a fair way of becoming a landed proprietor. At
the age of twenty, he owned fifteen hundred acres of
land in Virginia.
We must not make the mistake of judging according
to our estates today; George Washington was a very
small squire, indeed, with his fifteen hundred acres of
wild, uncultivated, unproductive land. It was at this
46 GEORGE WASHINGTON
time that his two brothers, together with some in-
fluential friends of Virginia and important English
merchants, organized the 'Ohio Company/ which
obtained a concession of half a million acres of land in
West Virginia. At least this was worth something,
and Lawrence Washington, as the president of this
company, was somebody.
George Washington was well brought up; he knew
how a great lord should conduct himself. All the
instincts for domination and ownership in him had
been developed, but the power to satisfy these in-
stincts was not yet his.
Fate was to take charge of that.
THE LUCK OF GEORGE WASHINGTON
One after the other, each of the three children
Lawrence's wife had borne him died young, leaving
only a frail little girl to survive. As for himself, the ill-
ness he had brought back with him from Cartagena
became aggravated by the moist climate of Virginia.
When the crisp autumn days of 1751 came, Law-
rence's condition became so much worse that the
doctors, seized with alarm, advised him to go for
a cure to the Barbadoes, well-renowned for their mild
and equable climate. Ann Fairfax Washington, worn
out by many pregnancies, was unable to accompany
her husband on such a long and arduous crossing.
George was available. His precocious solemnity, which
bored the youthful, won him the sympathy of the
older Virginians. Lord Fairfax treated him with
familiarity, Augustine Washington received him joy-
fully, and Lawrence depended upon him. So George
GENTLEMAN 47
was entrusted to conduct the ill man to sun and
health. 16
Without a doubt, the healthiest man would have
been made very ill by the discomforts of such a voy-
age. It often took more than a month for the sloops of
the eighteenth century to go from Chesapeake Bay to
the Barbadoes over extremely rough seas often visited
by tornadoes, cyclones, or dead calms. On board the
Fredericksburg, Lawrence and George Washington
experienced the varied emotions of a long sea voyage.
They were submitted to every possible shock; they
expected to see the ship's masts crack in the wind, and,
at the very last, one beautiful morning at four o'clock,
when they still believed they were far from their
journey's end, the pilot was amazed at the sudden
apparition of the Barbadoes coast line. It was a mere
chance that they did not miss it!
Lawrence felt extremely unwell, but the doctor
assured him that the climate would cure him. George
felt perfectly well, but the island was to become nearly
the cause of his death, for they were taken in by
a Massachusetts family, living in the Barbadoes,
whose children had the smallpox. George did not fail
to catch it. His youth and good health threw off the
disease, but not without leaving livid and ugly scars
on his face. Little, indeed, did he enjoy this heavenly
climate nor the pretty island women (whom he found
a little too slovenly to his liking) nor the exquisite,
tropical produce: alligator pears, pineapples, and
tangerines. He left suddenly on the twenty-second of
December for Virginia, to devote himself to his broth-
er's and his family's interests which could not be
48 GEORGE WASHINGTON
allowed to lapse any longer. He returned as his
brother's representative and, under this title, went
to Williamsburg to visit the new Governor, Din-
widdie, recently arrived from England and who was
also interested in the Ohio Company. So, in a single
stride, George Washington came in touch with the
great of the earth.
Fortune seemed to waver between George and
Lawrence: during February and March, 1752, George
was very nearly carried off by a dangerous attack of
pleurisy contracted a few days after his return.
Meanwhile, Lawrence was struggling and hoping in
the Barbadoes, but, in the end, Fortune condemned
him. As he was becoming more and more ill, he
hurried back to his house in Mount Vernon which he
had just completed and so named in order to hand
down to his descendants the memory of his painful
and glorious campaign with Admiral Vernon. The
pitiless Virginia climate and the bad sanitary condi-
tions of the times were enough to kill off the weakest.
Lawrence continued to struggle for several months,
but, during the torrid days of July, 1752, he died of
pulmonary tuberculosis. 17
His remaining daughter followed him a few months
later. And his widow hastily married again, marrying
Colonel Lee.
He confirmed in his will the arrangements already
made by his father: George, the younger son, as heir,
to receive the property of Mount Vernon, the use of
which was to go to Lawrence's widow during her life-
GENTLEMAN 49
time. But Ann Fairfax Lee was little concerned with
it: she ceded her usufruct to George for an annual
income: for the value of fifteen thousand pounds of
tobacco paid each year, George Washington became
the proprietor and lord of Mount Vernon ( 95 in
1755; 87 in 1756, 1757, and 1758; 81 in 1760). In
1761 the death of Ann Fairfax Lee freed the estate
from all encumbrance; the family property, the seat
of the Washington dynasty, was his.
CHAPTER II
THE LEGEND OF COLONEL WASHINGTON
A WAR OF BLIND MAN'S BUFF
AT THE time that Destiny made of George Washington
one of the great men of Virginia, Virginia became the
centre of the world and attracted universal attention.
France and England, face to face, were watching
one another. An intense commercial rivalry possessed
them, an age-long national jealousy exasperated them,
and the difference in their religious beliefs sharpened
their antipathy. Meanwhile, the Governments knew
very well that, once begun, the war would be atro-
cious, long, and costly, and would probably be the end
of one or the other nation. Perhaps it was due to lazi-
ness that Louis XV desired peace. His ministers en-
dorsed his policy through submission, integrity, or
snobbishness. For had not the Marquis d'Argenson,
his Minister for Foreign Affairs, written in 1746 that
he wanted *to make France prevail in Europe through
her sense of justice and her good works ' ? Had he not
also said that 'the King would rather be deceived than
deceive '? (January 10, 1746) x Monsieur deMachault,
the skilled financier, and Monsieur Rouill, eager to
reconstruct the French Navy, badly damaged by the
late war, gave themselves to the same pacifist ideas
and used all their influence to prevent conflicts.
Nor was the English Government looking for them.
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 51
King George II was attached to his Hanover; he was
fearful lest a war with France would bring it to ruin or
even take it from him. His Prime Minister, the Duke
of Newcastle, knew that his Ministry was tottering and
entertained no doubts whatever that a war would be
its downfall. He wished to remain in office. Besides,
he was not a leader of men; he was too whimsical to be
popular. The most improbable stories were told about
him. On one occasion it was reported that one winter
day, when he was obliged to confer with Pitt about an
important matter, he found his colleague in an icy
room confined to his bed with the gout. While he was
descanting, he noticed the bed which Lady Chatham
had just left as he was coming in. He jumped into it,
settled himself comfortably, pulled up the sheets and
blankets, and thus the two statesmen continued with-
out interruption to discuss the fate of nations from
one bed to another. Such a man could only be dan-
gerous owing to his bursts of humour and his foibles.
He allowed himself to be influenced by events and
public opinion, and these it was that, step by step,
led him into war. Undoubtedly the intelligentsia and
the philosophers kept up friendly relationships on
both sides of the Channel, but the lesser nobility, the
middle classes, the Army, the Navy, and, above all,
the tradesmen indulged in a profound mutual hatred.
This would have led to nothing had it not been organ-
ized. But in France as in England, the very wealthy
merchants concentrated upon it.
French trade, conscious that it was still weak in
spite of the hasty reconstruction of the Navy, was
none too assertive; it maintained, nevertheless, a
52 GEORGE WASHINGTON
threatening attitude. The commercial English upper
classes which, since 1748, had witnessed a rapid rise
of its French rivals, could no longer contain itself.
This class, so powerful, active, and well organized,
ranked just below the landed gentry and was bound
to it by a thousand ties; its slightly inferior position
was atoned for by its wealth and influence. There
were in the English commercial upper classes an over-
abundance of adventurous men, and consequently
this class engaged largely in colonial enterprises in
the East and the West Indies.
They embarked easily upon these bold speculations^
for, besides, there was more breathing space in these
still untouched territories, where every opportunity
had not been exhausted beforehand., as in Europe,
and where no government put stumbling-blocks at
every turning. In America this class was hand-in-
glove with the Virginia aristocracy, which, like itself,
was greedy, ambitious, and daring.
It was these two classes which precipitated the
Seven Years' War.
No one, not even the most astute, understood any-
thing of all this.
A few years later, Voltaire wrote, These two na-
tions have gone to war over a few acres of snow in
Canada and, in it, they have spent a great deal more
than Canada is worth/ He never ceased to be aston-
ished that 'two civilized nations' should cut each
other's throats in Europe over a few acres of snow and
ice in America.
Monsieur Rouill6, the French Minister for Foreign
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 53
Affairs, agreed with Voltaire. He remarked sadly to
the Duke of Mirepoix, the French Ambassador to
England: 'We should hardly have imagined, sir, that
anything of so little importance in itself as the pre-
sent issue could have occasioned a war/ (March 17,
17550*
Everything relating to this conflict was obscure
its origin, its causes, and the conditions under which
it was fought all seemed ridiculous to the general
public in Europe.
How would one anticipate that the only require-
ment to set the two most powerful kingdoms of the
world at variance was the decision of a group of Eng-
lish and Virginian capitalists to exploit the banks of
the Ohio?
Such was the case, however, and it was precisely the
precautions taken by two Crowns to avoid an out-
break that made it inevitable. The makers of the
Treaty of Utrecht (1714) were most desirous of avoid-
ing trouble, and, not seeing a way of doing so, left the
frontiers of America undefined, guaranteeing to the
holders French, English, or Indian as the case may
have been the land which they already owned.
The makers of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle (1748),
even more eager to avoid trouble and seeing even less
clearly a way of doing so, left the frontiers in question
in as undetermined a state as before, but, nevertheless,
established an international commission of arbitration
for the purpose of defining them. This commission
was to sit in Paris: the commission sat, but that seems
to be all that it ever did.
While it was deliberating, the Virginia colonists,
54 GEORGE WASHINGTON
the Washingtons, Colonel Cresap, George Fairfax,
Thomas Nelson, Thomas Lee, and others, in conjunc-
tion with prominent English business men, and partic-
ularly with the wealthy Hanbury family of London,
agreed to ask the Board of Trade and Plantations for
a grant of half a million acres on the Ohio. Most dis-
creetly, this request was at once accorded (1749-
1750). The Virginians believed they had a right to
occupy this land since their Charter of 1609, granted
by the English Crown, had given them a strip of
territory stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific
and included this land. The English Government did
not question its right to dispose of this land as it
pleased, the more so as the Treaty of Utrecht had
established the status quo for the lands lying in the
centre of North America, At the time of the Treaty of
Utrecht, the banks of the Ohio, the 'Beautiful River,'
belonged to the Indians of the Five Nations terri-
tory which they later ceded to England.
All of these negotiations were carried on in secret,
for the new masters were afraid of arousing jealousy.
The concession was to be complete and final only after
seven years' occupancy, and then solely on the condi-
tion that the Company establish a hundred families
and build a fort upon these lands. There was the
ever-present fear that the capitalists of New York
and Philadelphia might attempt to ruin their enter-
prise in order to take their place. Secrecy was so well
maintained that little was known of the undertaking
in America, almost nothing in England, and abso-
lutely nothing on the Continent.
France heard not a word about it. The war over
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 55
(1748), relations with England had not been very
actively resumed and it was generally believed that
the possession of Ohio was a settled thing. For did
they not own this region by 'right of discovery' ? Since
1679 this land had been considered as theirs by the
French; since that date the Treaty of Utrecht had
guaranteed the existing status quo for the plains of
the Ohio. Thus each side was convinced it was in the
right and that its claim was incontestable. 3 Here,
indeed, was a matter for a never-ending lawsuit, and
that the affair would never be disentangled seemed
certain. Each side reasoned logically from its dia-
metrically opposed premises and was always bringing
out contradictory facts. The two Governments under-
stood nothing whatever of the matter and were well
aware of it. French and English maps showed dif-
ferences of three hundred leagues and the various
French maps did not agree. Monsieur de Lisle, on his
map of the Ohio basin, traced the course of one river,
and upon his, Monsieur d'Anville presented two.
Monsieur de Mirepoix, the French Ambassador to
London who was engaged in examining into these
questions, had altogether forgotten the names of the
rivers to which France laid claim. 'One of them, as
nearly as I can remember/ he said, 'is called the Au-
douche.' He meant to say Wabash! But, certainly,
war was not brought about by such silly things.
The kings of the two countries involved would have
been pleased enough with a diplomatic discussion, but
nothing short of a fight was needed to satisfy the
people. What seemed in Paris, and even in London,
vague enough was very definite in the minds of the
56 GEORGE WASHINGTON
people of Williamsburg and Quebec. The English
had come to the New World with the intention of
finding land to exploit and they wanted a great deal of
it. The French, too, feeling the need for expansion and
adventure in a new country, had come to Canada, and
had no intention of being frustrated. In the American
wilderness, the English colonist and the French
trapper stood face to face, both continuing along their
chosen paths without troubling much about their
respective Governments. Between 1650 and 1750,
eleven Canadian brothers named Lemoyne 4 had
made Louisiana French territory with practically no
assistance from the Versailles Government; only after
accomplishing their task did they ask for the approval
of the King.
The English and Scotch farmers, when they felt
cramped in their quarters, merely pushed on further
into the wilderness, leaving to the King of England
the privilege of shifting his troops, his frontiers and
his government, if it should so please him. What
they the farmers, wanted was land, and, from distant
London, it was impossible to oppose them. The Gov-
ernment would have abandoned them had not the
rich merchants of London interfered, for as capitalists
they were interested. The war was indeed started by
the colonists, but it was forced upon the English
Government by the English merchants especially
by the Hanburys, members of the Ohio Company.
This was a war of people against other people, not
one of those graceful aristocratic battles which were
still the fashion in Europe, where everything which
took place was according to strict and chivalrous
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 57
rules. But how could an obscure straggle have any
connection with grace and elegance?
The battle-field was tremendous a continent.
The combatants scarcely knew it. They hadn't the
time to name it. They used the vague names fur-
nished by the Indians, a people of low intelligence, or
else they invented pretty names themselves, for the
scenes of action. In this way each battleground of
that war bears three names, an Indian, a French, and
an English one. To the Indians, Pittsburgh was
'Shannopin/ to the French Tort Duquesne,' and to
the English Tort Pitt/ Often, the French knew the
name of a place only by the translation into Norman-
French of an Indian word, half understood, and repro-
ducing or translating an English word, which, in its
turn, had been but half understood by the Indians.
This applies to the post known as 'Loyal Hanna':
the French commander called it 'Royal Arni' while
Washington refers to it variously as 'Loyal Hanning/
'Royal Amnon/ and 'Royal Hannon'; and, a short
time later, this spot became known as Tort Ligonier' !
The English and the Indians also made errors in the
matter of French names: in October, 1753, Washing-
ton speaks of the 'Black Islands' where the French,
according to some deserters, had established forts. In
reality it was Illinois which was referred to and was
as yet unknown to him. He did not distinctly under-
stand the word, mistaking it for 'lies Noires' and
translating it literally into 'Black Islands/ 5
The same confusion prevailed in regard to persons
as well, Washington speaks of a certain officer named
'Riparti/ There was no person of that name in the
58 GEORGE WASHINGTON
region. Doubtless he was alluding to Legardeur de
Repentigny, whose name had come to him in that
twisted form. Nor was it certain where or against
whom the fighting took place. The vast unknown
that lay between the French and English was a kind
of immense barrage and the only intermediaries were
the Indians. They, alas! had none too precise notions
and, besides, they did not particularly care to proffer
a light for the white men's lanterns. They had every-
thing to gain by leaving the French and the English in
ignorance and many times even took pleasure in fool-
ing them.
Ever since the invasion of the white man in North
America, war had become the main resource of the
Indian, and the taking of scalps the most prosperous
industry. Any outbreak of hostilities afforded excel-
lent occasions for pillaging, and brought all sorts of
advantages with it, both great and small. Besides the
herds, the provisions, the clothing, and the weapons
each expedition along the English or the French fron-
tiers yielded, the English offered premiums for French
scalps, while the same advantages were to be obtained
from the French for similar services. To tell the truth,
the wisest of the French commanders did not enjoy
this traffic and the most astute among the English
mistrusted it. An English scalp looked so much like a
French scalp, and, then, the Indians were none too
scrupulous! So, in 1758, we find Washington shaming
the Crow, 6 an Indian brave who, having returned
from an expedition, presented two scalps which he
claimed were French when such was not the case at
all. In order not to ruffle the Crow too much, how-
ever, a little gift was made to him.
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 59
The presence of the Indians made it impossible to
keep to the ordinary rules of warfare. Here, there
were no grandiloquent and formal declarations of war,
no solemn treaties of peace setting down definite con-
ditions. Here, in the forest, there was no means of
knowing whether it was a time of peace or a time of
war. It was always wise to carry a gun. Doubtless, at
the conclusion of war the King of France notified his
Indian allies that hostilities had ceased, and the King
of England certainly did likewise, but, as means of
communication were very uncertain, the news most
probably failed to reach a tribe in course of migration.
Or else the tribe was as apt as not to pay no attention
to the new order. Actually, a peace bound the Indians
as allies to the kings of Europe, but as allies they re-
mained a strictly independent people (for the Indians
were still this). Peace seemed to them an excellent
occasion in which to settle quarrels among themselves.
So, from 1750 to 1753, France's Indian allies, who had
been roughly handled by the Catawbas during the
last war, avenged themselves by expeditions and mili-
tary operations against the latter measures which
greatly resembled war. The dividing line between
war and peace in these virgin forests and prairies was
ill-defined.
War, too, was carried on without any definite rules.
The agreements with the Indians were made verbally
over the peace pipe. Mere smoke! And the wind dis-
sipated it all the more quickly, as, on those most im-
portant occasions, the Indians were given over to
strong drink. On such occasions they became so thor-
oughly drunk that they had no idea what they were
60 GEORGE WASHINGTON
doing. It would have been a simple matter to persuade
them to sign a treaty, but, alas! they could neither
read nor write, which made the possibility of their ob-
serving a written covenant extremely uncertain. The
Indians had a liking for killing and a highly developed
technique in killing. And they never missed a chance
to kill. Besides, they cared nothing whatever for the
opinion of Europe. Under such conditions, had a
European insisted upon a scrupulous observance of
the rules governing the conduct of war, he surely
would have paid very dearly for it. During the
eighteenth century, war as conducted in the vast for-
ests of America seemed much more like a hunt for
wild beasts than a civilized struggle.
In the midst of so much confusion, the French ap-
peared to grasp the situation better than the English.
From the very beginning of the period of colonization
the French were more interested in pushing forward
while the English were bent upon establishing them-
selves. The English remained in the coast settlements
where their commerce and agriculture flourished; the
French, on the contrary, pushed on towards the inte-
rior, incited by the love of adventure and the hope of
discovering marvels. Their missionaries and woods-
men had long since left behind them the peasants es-
tablished along the banks of the rivers of the North.
In order to accomplish something useful in the forests,
either in pursuit of converts or the trapping of fur-
bearing animals, the presence of the Indians was es-
sential, whereas the English farmer desired nothing so
much as the absence of the Indian, for he wished to
cultivate his fields in peace. Thus, from the begin-
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 61
ning the French missionary and woodsman had
learned the Indian language and had studied his psy-
chology, while the English farmer had devoted his
energy to clearing the soil and perfecting his marks-
manship. In 1750, the French had a goodly number of
officers and traders who were acquainted with Indian
customs and who were in constant and close com-
munication with the Indian people, whereas, at the
same time, the English possessed only five or six men
sufficiently expert in Indian lore to be relied upon:
Conrad Weiser and George Croghan who worked for
Pennsylvania; Christopher Gist, agent for Virginia;
Johnson, agent for New York; Glen, agent for South
Carolina, and the French renegade who called himself
'Captain Montour/ These six men were employed
either by the large companies or by the colonists
themselves to act as intermediaries with the Indians;
but, while they constituted a valuable staff, their
number was too small to be really effective. Many of
the set-backs of the English were due to this.
On the other hand, they were better stocked with
manufactured articles and sold them cheaper than the
French. Instead of French cognac, the Indians pre-
ferred English rum, which, according to them, was
more efficacious. If the overwhelming superiority
of numbers was to be added to this (more than
i,aoo,ooo English as against only 65,000 Frenchmen),
it would seem that the ensuing struggle might surely
have been brief and its outcome certain.
Such was not the case, however. The English
were divided among themselves, while, comparatively
speaking, a spirit of cooperation united the French.
62 GEORGE WASHINGTON
The English spent more time and energy quarrelling
among themselves than in fighting the common en-
emy. Each colony had rival territorial claims en-
croaching upon its neighbour: Pennsylvania against
Maryland, Maryland against Virginia, Virginia
against Pennsylvania. Each protested loudly and ap-
pealed to London. The Governors, who were officers
of the Crown and held an imperial point of view,
might have arranged the matter between themselves,
but the colonial assemblies refused to come to any
agreement. They were chiefly engrossed in prevent-
ing the Governor, who represented either the Crown
or the Proprietors, from playing too important a role
in their affairs. This conflict between the Governor
and the provincial assemblies of New York, Pennsyl-
vania, and Virginia was very acute from 1750 to 1755.
Then, discord reigned in the provincial assemblies
themselves. On the one hand, the members represent-
ing the rich element of the colony were anxious not to
crush the Indians, for they found in them a fruitful
source of commerce, and, on the other hand, the mem-
bers representing the less prosperous element of
the colony were in favour of exterminating the Indi-
ans. Those speculating in lands in the West main-
tained that their grants from England were unques-
tionable and sacred; those whose interests were bound
up in the East looked upon the Western expansion
with disfavour and doubted the validity of royal
grants. Each time that the subject of credits for pro-
viding the Indians with gifts arose, a bitter conflict
ensued.
These differences in point of view made any efFec-
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 63
tive military organization impossible. There were
even undercurrents of hostility such as those which
were inspired by the Irish Catholics (still few in num-
ber) and the Catholics from the Palatinate and the
Rhine (who, since 1730, had begun to come to the
colonies in great numbers). Both of these elements
harboured a secret sympathy for France. Then,
again, there were the Quakers, rich and influential,
and opposed to any kind of strife or warlike prepara-
tion.
Such was the chaotic and divided condition of
America where all was confusion and disruption, ex-
cepting only the flaming passion which possessed the
Virginian aristocrat for the acquisition of more and
more land. It was this flame that was destined to set
two continents on fire.
GEORGE WASHINGTON'S FIRST MILITARY EXPLOITS
At first, all went well. The Ohio Company was
firmly established and favourably looked upon in
London; the new Governor, Dinwiddie, 7 a patriotic,
crafty, energetic Scotchman, was pleased to take an
interest in it. The neighbouring colonists the
Penns in particular dared say nothing in spite of a
certain prevailing jealousy. So the Company, directed
by Hanbury, pursued a policy at once redoubtable
and prudent, and went on its way rejoicing.
George Washington had an opportunity of seeing
Dinwiddie in January, 1753, in connection with the
affairs of which he had charge for his sick brother.
They understood each other at once. In this tall silent
young man the Governor recognized manly qualities
64 GEORGE WASHINGTON
bound to develop, and the kindness of the Governor
won the confidence of the young Virginian.
After the death of Lawrence, the authorities, anx-
ious to mark the importance of the change in the po-
sition of this young man, did not hesitate to bestow
upon him the title of Adjutant-General for the South-
ern District of Virginia. It seemed natural enough to
commission the young surveyor, inspector, and de-
fender of this territory, for was he not well known as
confidential agent of the Washingtons and the Fair-
faxes whose possessions spread into the West? His
family's and his friends' lands were in the north of the
colony, and thanks to diplomacy and the influence of
William Nelson, Washington obtained the control of
the northern district in 1753.
At the same time another honour and a not less pro-
fitable one was conferred upon him. He was not yet
twenty-one when the Masonic lodge of Fredericksburg
initiated him Apprentice Mason. The 4th of Au-
gust, 1753, he became a Master Mason.
What did it matter, we might ask? It mattered a
great deal in the eighteenth century. Freemasonry
in the colonies was the centre around which were
grouped all the fashionable young men. After coming
through a sort of crisis, the society became then firmly
established. It gathered together its members to make
them drink, to teach them to consolidate their com-
mercial interests, and to promote in them a certain
ideal of "enlightenment and good-will/ It was not in
direct opposition to the reformed religions, although it
had already begun its campaign against Catholicism.
In its tendencies and its origin, it was Anglo-Saxon.
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 65
Its fame spread the world over; in the English colonies
of America, where social organization was still in a
rudimentary state, it constituted the most important
intercolonial network. In Virginia, Philadelphia, New
York, and Boston, it attracted the most prominent
persons. Numerous journalists, such as Franklin in
Philadelphia, Zenger in New York, were Freemasons,
and the entire press all over the colonies was under its
influence. In this way, Freemasonry did much to aid
and promote the young worshipful brothers.
It happened, then, that in 1752-53, George Wash-
ington won his place amongst the leaders of the Vir-
ginia dynasty, without opposition, while as a Mason
he came into contact with an even more inclusive so-
ciety. From that time forward, his doings greatly in-
terested his brother Masons in the other colonies.
The moment had come, he now felt, for him to es-
tablish a family. He loved the ladies especially
pretty and young ladies. So he fixed his choice upon a
neighbouring Betsy Fauntleroy 8 and carried on his
lover's campaign in as lively a fashion as he could with
the aid of advice from the Washington cousins at
Chotank. She refused him, but he was not to be put
off; he became insistent, tried to win over her parents
to his cause. But the beauty no doubt was more im-
pressed by the pocks on his face and the awkwardness
of his manners than by the moral and physical force
which graced the young man. She threw him over. It
would be better to say that Fortune threw her over so
as to give all its attention to him.
Events moved rapidly, and the Ohio Company was
forced to act with precipitation for fear of losing the
66 GEORGE WASHINGTON
game. The rival capitalists in America set to work,
and, in London, the influential Thomas Penn was
roused to action. The Company could waste no time
in constructing its fort and collecting its farmers. Un-
fortunately, there was an unexpected fly in the oint-
ment; in the South, a little war was going on between
the Creek Indians and the Catawbas which Carolina
was not able to quell. In the North, the Six Nations
and the Catawbas were exchanging blows, despite all
the efforts of Virginia and the other colonies to recon-
cile them. Behind this barrier of tumult and blood-
shed, no one any longer knew what was going on in
the wilderness. Disquieting rumours, however, were
circulated. The Indians were robbing and killing the
English traders. In Pennsylvania, it was pretended
that the emissaries from Virginia were inciting the
Indians against the Pennsylvania merchants, at the
same time that the press patriotic and pro-Mason
was openly attacking the French. The latter, as a
matter of fact, alarmed by all the commotion they had
noticed throughout the Alleghanies and west of the
English frontiers, hurried forward to define and estab-
lish their earlier claims (dating from the discovery) in
the regions of the Ohio. Celoron de Blainville was
ordered to reconnoitre the country (1749) ; the French
expelled the English merchants from their trading
centres near Pickavillany (1752) and, by order of
the Governor, constructed a chain of forts to join
up Canada with the Ohio.
As a royal Governor and as a member of the Ohio
Company, Dinwiddie took fright. He realized that to
keep his grant from being taken from him by other
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 67
English capitalists, the Company must act at once,
take immediate possession of the territory, and estab-
lish colonies there. In order to do this he must get rid
of the French without delay.
Someone would have to cross the Indian wilderness
to find out just where these mysterious French out-
posts were. The ambassador he decided to send would
at the same time spy out the land, deliver an ultima-
tum to the French to evacuate the territory, and find
out how, if they refused to go, they could be forced
away. For this delicate and dangerous mission he
chose George Washington. The young man was not to
be frightened. Moreover, so much of his family's in-
terest was involved that he was certain to act with zeal.
On October 31, 1753, Major Washington set off to-
wards the Ohio, taking with him a letter from Gover-
nor Dinwiddie which was a polite summons that the
French Governor evacuate His Britannic Majesty's
lands and a testimonial to Dinwiddie's ardent love of
peace. Washington was accompanied by two advisers
and guides, two servants and two woodsmen. He de-
scribed in the following manner this historic departure
marking the beginning of the Seven Years* War:
The next [day, 1st November] I arrived at Fredericks-
burg, and engaged Mr. Jacob Vanbraam, to be my French
interpreter. . . . 9
This was a mistake. In the well-regulated and ex-
ceedingly judicious life of Washington can be found
few blunders of this kind. While Mr. Jacob Van
Braam had been his instructor and, as such, had a
claim to his gratitude, he was neither very brave, a
68 GEORGE WASHINGTON
very good officer, nor was he an expert in French.
And he soon proved it.
The others were better chosen: Mr. Christopher
Gist was a good guide and thoroughly accustomed to
the Indians' languages and habits; Barnaby Currin
and John MacQuire as woodsmen, and Henry Stew-
ard and William Jenkins as servants, have left no mark
in history, but they did their duty well.
The journey was interesting, successful, and, on the
whole, pleasant, in spite of the snow already covering
the mountains, the rain swelling the rivers, and the
impassable roads.
The Indians, whom Gist had been in touch with be-
forehand, refused neither their friendship nor advice.
So they came to terms with Tanacharisson, the Half
King of the Seneca Indians (so named because his
sway over his subjects was not total, the Six Nations
being their sovereign); with Monakatoocha, his
friend; with Shingiss, King of the Delawares, and oth-
ers. George, adopting the title which his ancestor,
John, had gained through killing Indians, insisted that
they honour him by the name of Conocotarius, the
'Destroyer of Villages/ which inspired them with re-
spect and sympathy towards him. And so he suc-
ceeded in weaning these people from the French. He
was also lucky enough to meet six French deserters
who confirmed the information the Indians had given
and furnished still more unfortunately interpreted
in a topsy-turvy fashion by Mr. Van Braam, who did
not know the difference between Illinois and 'lies
Noires * !
From here they went on to Venengo, arriving De-
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 69
cember 4. This was the first French post to be reached,
and Captain Joncaire, the French and Indian half-
breed commander, served them a good supper well
supplied with wines which did away with all con-
straint and encouraged a discussion as frank and
friendly as it was far from the point. Washington,
who could stand a good deal of wine, drew out of Jon-
caire certain useful facts about the French forces in
the West. On December n, the party reached Fortle
Boeuf, under command of Colonel Le Gardeur de
Saint-Pierre.
Washington, who was politely received, wasted no
time, at once delivered his message, and waited. This
is how he describes these days in his diary:
The chief Officers retired to hold a Council of War;
which gave me an Opportunity of taking the Dimensions
of the Fort, and making what Observations I could. 10
Thus, he was able to reproduce to perfection the
plan of the fort, gather an exact idea of its buildings,
its staff, its cannon; he was able to obtain information
about the English woodsmen scalped in the neighbour-
hood, or taken prisoner and sent off to Canada. After
two exceedingly full days he received a polite but neg-
ative reply from the commanding officer. Saint-
Pierre declared that this territory belonged to the
King his Master, and, as for the rest, he would leave it
to his chiefs, to whom he was reporting Washington's
message. He gave the young Virginian *a plentiful
store of Liquor, Provisions, etc./ and then dismissed
him, scheming at the same time to make the Indians
stay.
70 GEORGE WASHINGTON
The return was difficult because of the snow and the
cold. As the horses could hardly endure it, Washing-
ton and Gist were forced to cover a part of the way on
foot and the first day they walked about twenty miles.
Washington's strong constitution served him well.
The journey was made with no further incident save a
royal interview, which the young Major noted down:
I went-up about three Miles to the Mouth of Yaugh-
yaughane to visit Queen Aliquippa, who had expressed
great Concern that we passed her in going to the Fort. I
made her a Present of a Matchcoat and a Bottle of Rum;
which latter was thought much the best Present of the
Two."
On January 16, 1754, Washington reached Wil-
liamsburg and handed the French officer's reply to
Dinwiddie. He turned in his report, which was sent
forthwith to London and immediately put into print
there. There was a Williamsburg edition of it as well.
The patriotic and pro-Masonic newspapers at the
time made a great deal of the whole affair. Here is the
paragraph that appeared on February 5, 1754^ in the
'Philadelphia Gazette' :
Extract of a Letter from a Gentleman in Virginia, to his
Friend in Annapolis, dated Jan. 16. 1754.
Mr. Washington, the Ambassador sent to the Indian
Country, is returned, which affords us new Conversation.
It is undoubtedly affirm'd for Truth, that the French have
settled and fix'd several Forts near the Ohio Tract,
especially one upon French River, which Mr. Washington
was at, and that proper Officers, and 500 men, are in each
Fort, chiefly French and that they have 12 cannon mounted
on each of them, and that great Numbers of French and
Indians are close at Hand, to assist at a small Warning.
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 71
Mr. Washington was received in a polite genteel Manner,
by the Commandant of the Fort, who read and answer'd
our Governor's Letter, and at the same Time told Mr.
Washington, that it was his Instructions from the King
his Master, to keep Possession, and advance farther and
fight those that should oppose them, &c. And added, that
he had expected an Army to be sent for twelve Months
past by the English, and that they were prepared for them;
for he suppos'd they must knock it out, and he did not
care how soon. Mr. Washington is gone to Williamsburgh,
and 'tis supposed the Assembly will meet immediately, and
that Men will be raised, &c. 12
We can measure how much the press exaggerated
this news when we remember that Washington had
found only two French forts, each occupied by one
hundred and fifty men at the most, and that all his
conversations with Joncaire and Saint-Pierre had
been peaceful, hearty, and good-humoured. At all
events, this press account gave the impression it was
intended to give. He was ready to fight; the Ohio
Company had made up its mind to this, and in the
publication of the report of the mission America and
England took fire. This mission and its results im-
mediately decided Virginia to make a move against the
French and to engage in a private war, while, under
the influence of the great merchants (Hanbury in par-
ticular), the English Minister began to take energetic
measures. France and England now stood face to
face.
The first mission of Major Washington was not un-
successful.
It was no longer a laughing matter. The Assembly
72 GEORGE WASHINGTON
ceased quarrelling with the Governor and voted the
necessary credits. The Ohio Company decided to
build a fort. Washington was promoted to the rank of
colonel as a reward for his services and put in com-
mand of a party sent to construct the fort on the Ohio.
They hoped by acting quickly to gain an advantage
over the French.
So Washington, on April 2, 1754, departed in haste
with two companies of infantry, one hundred and
twenty men in all, commanded by Captain Peter Hog
and Lieutenant Jacob Van Braam, five non-commis-
sioned officers, two sergeants, six corporals, one drum-
mer, one surgeon, and one Swedish volunteer. Two
wagons, in charge of a lieutenant, a sergeant, a corpo-
ral, and twenty-five soldiers, followed. The little
army plunged into the wilderness. It advanced but
slowly, for roadways had to be cut for the wagons, and
sometimes their advance was no more than two miles
by the time the sun had set. The cutting of trees, the
levelling of roads, the building of bridges exhausted
the men, who performed these tasks with bad grace.
The officers, dissatisfied with their pay, thought only
of returning and did their best to annoy Washington.
The young commander became bothered and wrote
letter after letter to the Governor, from the depths of
the forest, saying that his dignity as a gentleman
would not permit him to serve much longer for such
small pay.
Bad news poured in from everywhere. The Indians
began to disappear, including the Half King. The
French had surprised the Virginians, who were build-
ing the fort at the fork of the Ohio River, had made
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 73
them capitulate, and now, on the same site, they were
engaged upon the construction of an even larger fort.
Some Indians brought news of a garrison of six hun-
dred Frenchmen; others spoke of eight hundred; and
all agreed that very soon eighteen hundred French-
men were to be stationed there. Tales of a sudden de-
scent of the Ottawas and the Chickasaws, allies of the
French, were circulated. French scouts scoured the
country; their agents outbid their rivals whenever the
Indians hesitated. The English trappers began to re-
treat in panic. Overcome with fright, Washington's
soldiers deserted. Washington himself was worn out
repeating his demands to the Governors of Virginia,
Maryland, and Pennyslvania for help which should
have been forthcoming. He begged for Indian auxili-
aries, blankets, provisions, and rum. To make any use
of the Indians who had come to him, Washington
found himself obliged to buy the rum from his own
purse.
However, he continued to advance and at last
reached Great Meadows, in the neighbourhood of the
French, where he pitched camp. From here he ob-
served the enemy. The Half King and his followers
joined the camp. A bit of rum, the hope of booty and
of a few scalps steadied their wavering fidelity. The
Indians between the French and English were like a
thick, ever-shifting veil, always about to be torn asun-
der, yet ever there, and behind which French and
English groped in the dark. It was always impossible
to foretell who would be betrayed by the Indians: the
French or the English, the allies or the enemies.
On this occasion, the French were betrayed. A
74 GEORGE WASHINGTON
small body of French troops advanced along the river-
bank, slowly and awkwardly. They had the ill-luck
to fall upon the Half King and his followers, and were
clumsy enough not to know either how to intimidate
them or win them over. The Indians fell back upon
Washington's camp and warned him that the French
were at hand. So, in spite of the darkness of the night
and a heavy downpour, Washington set out at ten
o'clock. He was accompanied by forty men and later
joined by about ten Indians, who led the way to the
French camp. Tanacharisson and Monakatoocha
were among his Indians. A common plan of action
was not readily agreed upon. The Indians, however,
were entirely willing to allow the English to attack the
enemy on their right and gave them the privilege of
leading the assault. They reserved for themselves the
left, and the glorious finish, if necessary. And so it
happened that at the break of day on May 2,8, 1754,
Colonel Washington fell upon Captain de Jumonville
and his detachment of thirty- two men. Captain de
Jumonville had come to this region in the name of the
King of France to order the English off His Most
Christian Majesty's lands. Captain de Jumonville
and his followers were still asleep, but were awakened
by the sudden discharge of rifles. While some hastily
reached for their guns, others as hastily seized the im-
portant papers which were their credentials as agents
of the King of France. The English fired two volleys,
then stopped, as was the custom. After the firing had
ceased, Jumonville, wishing to make use of the momen-
tary cessation of hostilities, stood up in the midst to
read his paper aloud. The English at once interrupted
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 75
his recitation by discharging their guns directly into
his face and he dropped to the ground, dead. 13 A
skirmish then ensued. The French answered the shots
of the English, killing one of their officers and wound-
ing several men. Had not the Indians interfered and
surprised them in their rear, they might have contin-
ued longer. While the white men were attacking each
other so gallantly, the Indians engaged themselves in
finishing off the victims and torturing the wounded
with their tomahawks. Realizing that they were lost,
the little company of French surrendered. Ten of
them, including their commander, lay dead on the
ground, and one man was dangerously wounded. An-
other, Ensign Monceau, and he alone succeeded in es-
caping, made his way, barefooted, through the forest
and reached Fort Duquesne, the French base of opera-
tions. The twenty-one survivors, after surrendering,
protested against the violation of the diplomatic
character of their mission and demanded their im-
mediate release.
Washington was far too proud of his victory to think
of doing any such thing. He denied the diplomatic
character of their emissary. Why, then, had they hid-
den? Why, then, were there thirty- two of them? Why
had they been out spying for several days ? In truth,
they were spies; nothing more. When they showed
him the summons which was drawn up according to
rule, he only grew the angrier and said: 'The sum-
mons is so insolent and savours so much of gascoigny,
that if two men only had come openly to deliver it, it
was too great indulgence to have sent them back/ I4
The only terms he would grant the prisoners were
76 GEORGE WASHINGTON
to return them to their homes without doing them
harm. He then notified Dinwiddie, his family, and
his friends of his first battle. Washington was greatly
excited. 'If the whole Detachment of the French/ he
said, 'behave with no more Resolution than this
chosen Party did, I flatter myself that we shall have
no g't trouble in driving them to the d Montreal/
And, for the benefit of his brother he added: 'I heard
the bullets whistle, and, believe me, there is some-
thing charming in the sound/
He was certain of his glory. But he was mistaken.
While the news of this lucky encounter filled the Eng-
lish colonies with joy, it seemed nothing short of an
atrocity to the French in Canada. To kill an emissary
without so much as listening to him was a thing that
did not happen in civilized war. People talked about
the 'Jumonville murder/
Washington affirmed that Jumonville could not be
regarded as an official emissary. He was a spy. His
instructions had been to watch and spy upon all
Washington's movements; his summons was the mer-
est insolence; he was accompanied by far too many
soldiers for a mission of that character; his men
moved about with all the caution of enemies, a thing
not usual with diplomatic missions. All this was
true.
The French said that Jumonville was the bearer of
a diplomatic summons in legal form; that he was
attacked by surprise; that the English did not listen
to what he tried to tell them; further, that all this
occurred during a time of peace, before any bloody
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 77
military operation had begun. All this was true like-
wise.
Had Washington killed Jumonville in Europe, he
would have been dishonoured, punished by his supe-
riors, and shamed by public opinion. But this hap-
pened in America, in the heart of virgin forest.
Jumonville was the bearer of a summons neither
more ridiculous nor more insolent than that given by
Washington to the French six months before; Jumon-
ville indulged in a little spying at the same time, ex-
actly as Washington had done six months before;
Jumonville was accompanied by a strong escort of
Frenchmen in crossing the woods, precisely as Wash-
ington had been accompanied by a detachment of
English and savages when he had gone on his mission
to Fort le Bceuf six months before. Jumonville had
hoped to be treated with the same respect as Wash-
ington had received.
However, Washington, having delivered his sum-
mons, considered that the period of negotiations was
past. The French (without shedding any blood, it is
true) thereupon expelled the English from the fork of
the Ohio and this, he considered, was the beginning
of hostilities. Another thing, he did not know French,
and Van Braam understood it too little to determine
what Jumonville was trying to say. He knew that in
the shadows of the woodland and the unspeakable
confusion of Indian warfare, he who was caught off
his guard was lost and that the winner of the first vic-
tory would have the greater influence over the Indi-
ans. He acted, therefore, as a good patriot. He
obeyed the laws of the forest rather than the rules of
78 GEORGE WASHINGTON
European warfare. He was a gentleman from Vir-
ginia and not a regular officer. He had done his duty
to his colony, his class, and the Ohio Company.
THE TRIALS OF COLONEL WASHINGTON
Continue he must. A victory such as his would
have had no meaning unless practical advantages were
to follow in its wake: helping to rally the Indians
to the English cause and entrenching themselves
strongly along the Ohio by means of a fort and a good
road. Washington at once began to make use of his
success. 15
The Indians, those faithful devotees of victory, be-
gan to swarm into his camp. The Half King Tana-
charisson and Queen Aliquippa were amongst the
first to arrive, and thirty families accompanied them
(June i). Aliquippa had not forgotten the taste of
good rum given her by the handsome soldier. Mona-
katoocha did his best to bring other families. Deco-
rated with the scalps of four Frenchmen, he explained
to the Six Nations and the Wyandots that England
was great and good and that the hour had come to
show their zeal in her cause. There was at once an ex-
change of necklaces, belts and strings of wampum
the traditional symbols of friendship. Councils of war
took place; that is to say, much rum was consumed
and there was a free flow of compliments. Reenforce-
ments began to arrive. Gist, then Montour, came into
camp followed by a company from Carolina. The
trail began to be clear and the fort to take on form.
Washington felt himself a leader.
But alas! there was scarcely time for rejoicing, for
COLONEL GEORGE WASHINGTON
By Charles Willson Peale, 1772
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 79
difficulties immediately began to present themselves.
To entice the Indians to the camp was indeed a good
move; but after that they had to be supplied with
food and rum. Washington was no longer in a position
to do this. The Great Council which took place in his
camp from the 1 8th to the 2ist of June and brought
together the Half King, Shingiss, chief of the Dela-
wares, representatives from the Mingos, the Six Na-
tions and the Shawanees, had no other result than to
exhaust the supply of provisions. He tried in vain to
persuade them to move into the interior of Virginia
and place themselves under the Governor's protec-
tion. The Indians had not the slightest desire to be-
come hostages nor to withdraw from this field of bat-
tle where they could always hope for plunder in raids
and also have the pleasure of taking some scalps.
They declined to go.
Washington had no less trouble with his American
collaborators. Though expected, the promised reen-
forcements did not arrive. God willing, they did come
from North Carolina, these same volunteers, and al-
though willing enough to fight, refused to take part in
the work on the road and on the fort except for special
pay: a shilling a day. The Virginians, forced by
Washington to do manual labour for the ordinary pay,
felt disgraced and jealous. Moreover, the men from
Carolina were commanded by Captain Mackay
whom, because of his King's commission, Dinwiddie
had begged Washington to treat with the greatest re-
spect. In the heart of the forest, when you are sur-
rounded by enemies and Indians, respect can become a
most annoying thing! It is useful, also, to know who
8o GEORGE WASHINGTON
is doing the commanding: Mackay never for a mo-
ment doubted that the colonial greenhorn, Washing-
ton, would be unable to command him, and Colonel
Washington refused to admit that Captain Mackay
might give him orders.
Meanwhile, the French had received reenforce-
ments. Jumonville's death had surprised, infuriated,
and instructed them, so they made up their minds to
get even as cleverly as possible. They lay in wait for
Washington, who, to follow his plan, had advanced
with a small body of men and was more and more iso-
lated, badly provisioned, and surrounded by spies.
The Delawares and the Shawanees had deserted him.
The Senecas actually declared themselves hurt by
his severity and were making up to the French, telling
them extravagant tales of Jumonville's death to incite
them against Washington.
The young Colonel saw the danger. He retreated
quickly to his base, Fort Necessity, which he had es-
tablished at Great Meadows. There he arrived on
July I with his weary and discontented troops who
had broken no bread for eight days. His Indians too
had deserted him, having decided that there was nei-
ther food nor advantage to be gained with Washing-
ton. Almost no provisions existed in the camp and the
entrenchments were miserable. There in the middle of
a clearing the forest surrounded them on all sides
that forest, so doleful and hostile during those rainy
summer days. He was accompanied only by his Vir-
ginia regiment, about three hundred dissatisfied and
badly disciplined men, and by the Carolina Company
of one hundred men who were thoroughly exasperated
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 81
with him. But he awaited the New York troops; the
knowledge that they were on the march to join him
kept up his hopes.
During the night of the ad-3d of July, 1754, the
French, having been well posted by their Indians,
crept stealthily around the English fort. Coulon de
Villiers, Jumonville's brother, was the head of a de-
tachment of five hundred French soldiers. He wanted
to avenge his brother's death and counted upon com-
plete success. Nor did he fail to take every precau-
tion: he brought with him a great crowd of Indians,
who stripped themselves naked to fight the better;
from the black depths of the wilderness all the sav-
ages flocked to join his band; his advance was slow
during the night and the following morning, but when
Fort Necessity came into view shortly before eleven
o'clock, his Indians were in perfect form and their
numbers assured him of success.
They began to fire from a distance on the Virginia
troops, then ranged in fighting order in front of their
fort. The French and the Indians, however, were
pleased to fire as they approached slowly, never leav-
ing the shelter of the woods which protected them
from the enemy's bullets and the torrential rain.
Washington, realizing that he would never be able to
keep up his fight in the open, ordered his men into
camp, where they lay on their bellies in the mud under
a heavy downpour, replying as well as they could to
the French fire. This went on from eleven in the
morning until eight at night, and, by this time, it be-
came evident that the English were lost. Their reen-
forcements had not arrived. Blockaded by the French
82 GEORGE WASHINGTON
with their Indian allies, cornered in this clearing, sur-
rounded on all sides by the forest, devoid of every
means of transport, since their horses and cattle had
been the first and easiest targets for the French, there
was nothing left for them but death. To prepare for
it and to console themselves for having nothing to eat,
the English soldiers swallowed all the liquor they
could get hold of and many of them were drunk; they
were all the less able to fight, for most of the guns were
in bad condition: the rain had made them useless.
And to cap the climax, the presence of twelve dead
and forty-three wounded completed the discourage-
ment of the living.
Under these conditions they were amazed and de-
lighted to have the French offer them an honourable
capitulation. Could it be possible that their enemies
were letting their prey go off so easily?
Coulon de Villiers had accomplished his mission
with thoroughness and adroitness. The King of
France did not want war, but diplomatic successes; he
would have preferred to receive news of a capitulation
rather than the announcement of a massacre. The
Governor of Canada wanted to expel the English
from Ohio and establish the authority of the French.
Therefore, to this manoeuvre had to be given the
semblance of a police raid. It was Villiers's plan to
accomplish this and at the same time to give the
Indians striking proof of the power and magnanimity
of His Most Christian Majesty. And, above all, he
wanted to present the French Government with irre-
futable evidence of the unlawful intrusion of the
English in America, their unfairness and their violence.
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 83
The capitulation of Fort Necessity would serve to
stress these points. So, with great care, Villiers drew
up a paper and very politely submitted it to the
English.
Under the continuously falling rain, with the
twilight gradually closing in upon them, amongst
their soldiers stupefied with rum and weariness, the
little group of English officers held council by the
flickering light of a candle. Washington appealed to
his schoolmaster and friend, Van Braam. The Dutch-
man was very wet, very nervous, his French had never
been good, his English was not much better. He de-
ciphered it as best he could. But all his wishes as well
as his efforts tended more towards conciliation than
towards a clear interpretation. Washington had no
control over him. The paper was plain, brief, appar-
ently; the French officer's tone very agreeable, Van
Braam very hasty. He asked that a few details be
changed and they signed.
On the morning of July 4, 1754, a French detach-
ment took possession of the fort, while the English
troops, with their wounded and the heavy burden of
their baggage, filed out before the French. From the
forest came new sounds; an Indian contingent, at-
tracted by the blood and victory, was coming up to
reenforce the French. A little more trouble occurred,
as the Indians were eager for plunder and scalps.
The English quickened their pace and left behind
them their ten cannons, a big flag, their dead, and
the rum intended to placate the Indians. The well-
satisfied Villiers had the barrels of rum ripped open, not
wanting to see such a perfect and comfortable victory
84 GEORGE WASHINGTON
spoiled by a scandal. He had the cannons destroyed
and picked up the flag, which he sent to his command-
ing officer along with the precious capitulation.
And this was truly a work of art!
Nothing possible could be more courteous than the
preamble: 'As our intentions have never been to
trouble the peace and good harmony subsisting be-
tween the two Princes in amity, but only to revenge
the assassination committed on one of our officers,
bearer of a summons...' l6 Nor could anything be
more terrible for the English claims and for Washing-
ton: in a few words they recognized the sovereignty
of the King of France over the region; they admitted
having murdered Jumonville; in short, having been
the first to begin warlike measures in America. And
this was signed: 'Mackay, Washington, Coulon de
Vffliers.'
Washington returned to Williamsburg, saddened
but not discouraged by his defeat and proud of having
obtained the honours of war after such a defeat.
Suddenly, like wildfire, the terms of the capitula-
tion spread throughout the length and breadth of the
country. It was jabbered about in the taverns, the
inns, the assemblies. Washington felt that he had lost
all dignity or else that they were trying to lose it for
him!
In Philadelphia, New York, and Boston the Vir-
ginians became a general laughing-stock. In Septem-
ber, having obtained the text, the Dutch gazettes
were surprised and shocked at it. The King of France
used it as a pretext to approach the King of England
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 85
with the object of obtaining the evacuation of Ohio
and the punishment of Jumonville's murderer. 'The
murder reported by the official news is an insult to the
rights, most sacred amongst civilized nations/ said
M. Rouille, French Minister for Foreign Affairs, to
Boutet, French Charge d' Affaires in London, and, in
January, 1755, Robinson, Minister for the Colonies in
England, promised the French Ambassador, Mire-
poix, 'that such an act should not remain unpunished,
and that no matter how difficult it would be to throw
light on these problems, owing to the great distance
and the conflicting reports made to the two Courts,
His Britannic Majesty would exert himself to the ut-
most to discover and punish the guilty parties/ I7
Disgraced in Canada and in France, jeered at in
America, suspected in England, Washington became
the centre of a whirlwind. Many blamed him for
placing England in a ridiculous and unfavourable
position, whereas the fact of the matter was that he
had rendered more service to England than he
dreamed of: he had shaken her out of her apathy.
While the French were satisfied with the results and,
to a certain extent, looked upon the matter as closed,
the enraged Americans were preparing for action.
The alarmed Anglo-American merchants brought
pressure to bear on their Government and with all
speed, on Thursday, September 2,6, the King's Council
met in Kensington Palace and decided to take ex-
traordinary measures and to send troops immediately
to Virginia. These troops were to help the colonies,
incapable of standing alone.
86 GEORGE WASHINGTON
They were steering straight into the war, both un-
wished for by the Newcastle Government and feared
by the French Government. But what could be done?
Neither Newcastle nor Robinson understood any-
thing, and the only fact which seemed clear and de-
cisive was the determination of the big Anglo-Ameri-
can merchants to keep Ohio. They had stirred up
public opinion. The Government followed.
The Government, however, was quite willing to
negotiate with France* But these negotiations were
as tangled as a jungle. How come to an agreement?
Everybody was fooling himself and fooling his neigh-
bour. The Indians had fooled Contrecoeur, the com-
mander of Fort Duquesne, by telling him that Wash-
ington had come to terms with Jumonville before
killing him; Contrecoeur had fooled the Canadian
Governor by delivering the same report to him. Con-
trecoeur had doubly fooled his Government by send-
ing it despatches containing this statement, and add-
ing that it took place 'on the King's dominions, along
the Ohio River where England had never had a settle-
ment, nor claims/ Thus fooled by its agents and its
own ignorance, the French Government fooled its
Ambassador at London, Mirepoix, by leading him to
believe that the English and French claims in the
legitimate possession of Ohio could be easily recon-
ciled. Again, Washington fooled Dinwiddie when he
told him that Jumonville resembled in no way a
plenipotentiary; Dinwiddie transmitted this error to
his Government, which was pleased just as he had
been pleased with the false idea that its title to Ohio
was indisputable. The English Ministry also fooled
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 87
the colonies of Pennsylvania and of Maryland and
the French Government in keeping secret the con-
cession made to the Ohio Company. And by the re-
luctance they felt at accepting the idea of war, when
their respective peoples were all ready to join up, the
two Governments fooled themselves, and each other.
Before the eyes of millions of French and of many
neutral persons, Washington passed as a traitor and a
coward. Nothing could have been more unjust. But
even so, he was tricked by the Indians and carried
away by his desire for fame; he may have attacked the
French too hastily on the 28th of May; it may have
been wrong to choose Van Braam and confide in him,
or to sign a compromising paper without verifying it
closely. These are all facts. We might even reproach
him for having proved stiff and awkward in his deal-
ings with the Indians, with Mackay and with the men
from Carolina during the month of June preceding
the battle of Great Meadows. And then, it seems that
if he had taken the trouble to cut a larger clearing
around his camp, Fort Necessity, he would have been
in a better position to fight.
He was only a colonel of twenty-two, lost among
undisciplined troops, surrounded by officers with
little conscience and little experience; his only scouts
were dishonest and cowardly Indians, his enemies the
French, whose language, characteristics, and manner
of fighting he knew nothing about. We can only feel
astonished, not at his failure in his first campaign, but
that he did not lose his life with his honour.
Quite the contrary; he was very much alive and his
88 GEORGE WASHINGTON
name, blown about on an ill wind, was known the en-
tire world over. The reputation which he seems not
to have been able to attain through some brilliant
action followed unresistingly upon his misfortunes.
Yet everyone did not go back on him. The English
colonies in America believed him to be right, for they
knew far better the difficulties of Indian warfare and
the lack of value of such papers ! His brother-Masons,
who were printers and publishers of gazettes, particu-
larly Benjamin Franklin, were the first to defend him.
In August in Philadelphia, then in September in Bos-
ton, they published an account of the battle sent them
by Lieutenant Stephens, to which he had added this
preamble:
Sir, As the Articles of Capitulation mentioned in your
Philadelphia News Papers, are censur'd, and thereby
seem to reflect Dishonor on Col. Washington, who is a
brave and worthy young Gentleman, able to answer any
thing that can be expected from one of his Age and Ex-
perience, as well as on all the Corps then present, I have
given you an Account of the Circumstances we were in
about the Time of the Engagement. . . . l8
Nor did his own class abandon him. In August, the
Assembly (where the big planters held sway) gave
him and his troops a vote of thanks ' for their bravery
and gallant defence of their country/ They were pre-
sented with a reward of one pistole per head. Only
Trent, the Regimental Major, and Van Braam were
left out, the one because of his cowardice, the other
because of his mistakes in French. '
And last the Governor defended him to the British
Government. He even did more: to punish the French
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 89
for their treachery, he refused to abide by the text of
the capitulation; he detained the prisoners taken at
Great Meadows and, without further delay, sent the
Virginia soldiers to the frontier with the young Colo-
nel at their head.
But the wary Governor did not care to compro-
mise himself by showering too many favours on the
defeated Colonel. After having ordered him to pull
his regiment together, complete it with three hundred
men, and march on Fort Duquesne, he failed to fur-
nish him with the means necessary to carry out this
dangerous task. During the autumn he decided to re-
place the two phantom regiments by ten companies of
one hundred men each, fully equipped, each company
to be commanded by a captain. The ten captains
were to be equal in rank no colonels, no majors, no
quarrels over precedence, and, when the English
troops should arrive, no doubt as to who would be in
command. The Governor sighed with relief.
Colonel Washington could not see things in this way.
He was a good patriot and a good soldier, as brave as
his sword and in love with fighting; he had given up
an entire year of his life to his colony, he had risked
death and had lost his baggage, he had borne up un-
der bad weather and a thousand insults, but he was a
gentleman and could not submit to such humiliation.
Rather than bow down and accept so humble a fate he
preferred to retire and lose the opportunity of having
his revenge. He sent in his resignation (the end of
October, 1754).
Nothing could make him change his mind
neither Dinwiddie's letters, nor the entreaties of
90 GEORGE WASHINGTON
Colonel Fitzhugh, who, in the name of Governo
Sharpe of Maryland (the new commander of th
royal forces in America), offered him an arrangemen
whereby he would have retained his commission a
colonel, relinquishing, however, his pay and his com
mand. Washington's reply was not without a toud
of insolence :
This idea has filled me with surprise; for, if you thin'
me capable of holding a commission, that has neither ran'
nor emolument annexed to it, you must entertain a ver
contemptible opinion of my weakness, and believe me t
be more empty than the commission itself/ 9
His vanity as a gentleman of Virginia had bee]
sharpened by his sufferings and insults. Furthermore
he was tired and ill after the hardships of war. H
needed rest; he must make up his accounts, devot
himself to Mount Vernon and his future. He re
fleeted upon marriage as a consolation for his defeat
and of the great love he bore towards Mrs. Fairfa:
his friend's wife who was forbidden him. In
deed, in the exaltation of war and suffering, thi
sentiment had become all the stronger and had addec
to his misery. He passed a gloomy winter betweei
Williamsburg, where he stayed for some time, anc
Fredericksburg, where he paid a visit to his complain
ing mother and to his brother, John Augustine, th<
confidant of his love-affairs. He went to Belvoir onl]
to find sweet anguish again. To distract his mind, h<
busied himself with practical matters, sold the lane
he still owned at Fredericksburg, found some solace
playing at cards or billiards and drinking a bowl o:
punch from time to time.
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 91
But all this was very drab for a young man thirsting
for love, and who had only tasted war.
In March, 1755, he received a new invitation to
take up war as a profession.
General Braddock had landed on American soil on
February 20, having been sent from Gibraltar by the
English Government which was anxious to see the
last of the troublesome and impertinent little war
being so awkwardly conducted by its colonies. The
English Minister still wanted peace- He would have
liked to come to terms with the King of France
after having occupied the territories he claimed. In
this way the merchants would be perfectly happy and
the peace of Europe undisturbed.
Braddock was a good general with a brilliant career
behind him; he had a precise mind, a sense of disci-
pline, rough good nature, and a great deal of courage.
The Americans were very favourably impressed by
his appointment. At last they were to have a real
war with a real chief! And they were delighted most
of all by the thought that England would pay for it.
Tradesmen, farmers, landowners, felt in duty bound
to profit by it.
Braddock was dumbfounded by their welcome; and
in spite of his good temper, he was angry. He seemed
to be surrounded by snares. He could procure neither
horses, wagons, nor guides except for gold, and then
he had to beg for them. Colonel St. Clair, in whom he
was imprudent enough to confide, made arrangements
for him to reach his destination by way of Maryland,
although this was a far longer way but the Colonel
had interests in Maryland.
9 a GEORGE WASHINGTON
So Braddock invited Washington to join up with
him, promising him a place as aide-de-camp, without
pay and without command, to tell the truth, but with
no expenses and with the privilege of giving orders to
everybody. He had set his heart upon this young
man, whom he took to be naive but, at least, honest
and courageous. Washington accepted in spite of
his mother's disapprobation and his brother's misgiv-
ings. The straight forwardness of the Virginian pleased
the Englishman. The young Colonel, who knew the
wilderness by heart, had the right to speak freely
with the old General who had never penetrated into
it, and soon Washington was entirely at home with
the staff 'the General's family, 9 as they called it.
As bad luck would have it, he was not well. The
rough life he had led since 1748 and the terrible cam-
paign of 1754 had weakened his health. He dragged
along with fever, needing medical care. But no one
was there to give it him. All was complicated, diffi-
cult, uncertain. One after the other his horses fell
lame. He dragged along until the 23d of June, but
was then obliged to give in to Braddock's entreaties.
In consideration of a promise from the General, who
pledged himself to send for him before the attack on
Fort Duquesne, Washington consented to follow the
advancing army at a distance, to rest, and to over-
take it again by short stages in a wagon. 20
He was filled with hope. On the I4th of May, he
wrote to John Augustine:
As to any danger from the enemy, I look upon it as
trifling, for I believe the French will be obliged to exert
their utmost force to repel the attacks to the northward,
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 93
where Governour Shirley and others, with a body of 8000
men, will annoy their settlements, and attempt their
forts. 21
As a matter of fact there was talk of French reen-
forcements near at hand, but Washington hoped that
they themselves would get there first. On the i^th
of June at the council of war, called by Braddock at
Little Meadows, Washington urged with all his might
that they push forward quickly and fearlessly. He
succeeded in convincing his fellow officers and they
prevailed upon the General.
I urged it, in the warmest terms I was able [he wrote],
to push forward, if we even did it with a small but
chosen band, with such artillery and light stores as were
absolutely necessary. ... As one reason to support this
opinion, I urged, that, if we could credit our intelligence
the French were weak at the Forks at present, but hourly
expected reinforcements, which, to my certain knowledge,
could not arrive with provisions, or any supplies during
the continuance of the drought. . . ?*
So the council of war disregarded Braddock's fears
and, encouraged by Washington, decided to push
forward.
Their heavy baggage, the less good troops and the
women, they left behind with Colonel Dunbar. The
best soldiers (twelve hundred men) set out in haste
across the forest, taking with them the best horses and
a number of pieces of light artillery.
They could never hurry enough to please the im-
petuous Colonel, ill on the floor of his wagon and im-
patient to take Fort Duquesne and his revenge, after
which he would return to his pretty ladies again.
94 GEORGE WASHINGTON
The pace was much too quick to please the English
soldiers; though excellent fighters in Europe, these
regular troops were quite unprepared for this new
calling that had been forced upon them. Besides,, the
burning summer heat and the drought were almost
unbearable. To advance, trees had to be cut, bridges
built, even the roadway laid. Not a living being in
sight except a few Indians, always to be feared, for the
English had been deserted by almost all the friendly
savages. Not even any way of stopping to do the
cooking. Oppressed by the mystery and hostility of
the forest, led by a general who had not much assur-
ance and encouraged by colonial troops, who inspired
neither confidence nor sympathy, the English troops
marched forward, always more and more sullenly.
At last, on the 8th of July, 1755, they came within
ten miles of Fort Duquesne. They were told by their
patrol that the French were already trembling. Colo-
nel Washington was ill; his teeth chattered with fever,
but he burned with hope, and came up to join his
General.
Suddenly, while they were finishing their lunch, the
woods came to life. The English vanguard had fallen
upon a column of French and Indians coming out to
meet them. A fusillade followed, the French Indians
and the Canadians took flight, the French regulars
dispersed into the wood. Were the English already
victorious? The officers who had run forward, their
napkins still tied around their necks, believed so.
They were wrong, however. This first defeat saved
the French just as this first victory defeated the
English, Scattered through the woods, the French
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 95
soldiers were rallied by their officers, who then proved
reckless courage. They returned to the skirmish in
dispersed order, hiding behind trees; all the while, the
English, in full view on their road, were easy marks.
The Indians, by now encouraged, rallied to the French
one by one and, clambering to the top of a neighbour-
ing hill, they fired on the English, howling. As they
moved about in the dim light, their dark, naked
bodies resembled demons. The English regulars and
the young recruits from Virginia had never before
seen such a spectacle nor heard such music. So worn
out, depressed, enervated were they that they lost
their heads. They crowded together ten or twelve
ranks deep, one on top of another, reassured by their
proximity, which, however, was the cause of their
downfall. They then began to fire volleys into the
forest, at random, and wildly in any direction. These
never reached the enemies, who were scattered and
safely hidden behind the trees; they succeeded only
in killing their own chiefs and comrades. Braddock
and his officers repeatedly tried to assemble them, to
get them into formation, to make them advance or re-
tire, but in vain. The regulars would listen to nothing.
Reprovals, threats and blows from the flat of the
sword had no effect. A column of Virginia trappers
who had tried to manoeuvre against the French in the
forest were caught between these wild volleys and the
well-directed fire of the enemy. One after the other
they fell. The guides, the drivers of the horses and
wagons, all fled, sowing panic, and were soon followed
by the regulars. Braddock had received a death-
wound; Washington, after having had three horses
96 GEORGE WASHINGTON
killed under him, continued to fight on, while those
of the officers who still had legs to carry them, ran
away.
On the ground lay more than three hundred of their
dead, their cannon, all their horses, all their flags and
stacks of weapons.
The panic had not died down even by the time they
reached the camp of Little Meadows, where the fugi-
tives discovered Dunbar and his men. In spite of the
exhortations of Washington, and even though the
French were no longer pursuing them, they all fled.
Dunbar joined in the retreat a horrible retreat,
with three hundred wounded in its train.
Three hundred men made up the attacking force
and thirteen hundred the conquered army. Braddock
died of his wounds. Beaujeu, the French chief, had
been killed at the beginning of the action, but the
command was taken over by an excellent officer,
Dumas, who was responsible for the victory.
Braddock was right when he showed hesitation in
plunging into the forest. His army was not well pre-
pared, was not a unit, was not used to this kind of
fighting. He paid with his life for his mistakes. He
paid with his honour as well, for throughout the colo-
nies the people all called him "the stupid, blundering
Braddock/ All the sins of Israel were heaped upon
his head! The Pennsylvanians were enraged at having
lost their soldiers and wagons, the English at having
had such bad leadership, such bad support, and such
a badly managed battle. Everybody was discouraged,
annoyed, humiliated. Dunbar, who took over the
command, decided to retreat as far as Philadelphia,
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 97
leaving all the western frontiers at the mercy of the
French and the Indians.
On July 14, 1755, the order to return immediately
was sent from Versailles to the Duke of Mirepoix, the
French Ambassador at London. War had come.
The French Government refused to countenance
the armed attack and the seizure by the English fleet
of two French war vessels 23 intended to carry reen-
forcements to Canada. Newcastle might well repeat
toMirepoix: 'I assure you, we do not want war, but our
colonies are shouting so loudly that they have stirred
up public opinion here and the big Anglo-American
merchants are forcing us to action; give us Acadia and
Ohio and all will be well.' Mirepoix shook his head.
The King of France could no more betray his Cana-
dians than the King of England could abandon his
Virginians.
The astonished universe had its eyes fastened upon
Virginia where this new war had been conceived.
Everybody talked about Colonel Washington, who
had been the first to pull the trigger. Every news-
paper in the universe quoted his name. In France he
became the synonym for treachery. Thomas, the
poet, published in 1759 a long patriotic poem entitled
'Jumonville,' to recall that terrible outrage. He said
in the preface: 'The assassination of Jumonville is a
perfidious monument which should anger all centuries
to come/ All the French historians took up the theme.
In England public opinion waxed vehement in con-
nection with this drama, and, in August, 1754, the
'London Magazine' published George Washington's
98 GEORGE WASHINGTON
letter to his brother in which he gave an account of
the fight and lauded the music of the bullets. The
King shrugged his shoulders, saying: 'He would not
say so if he had been used to hear many/ 24 Fashion-
able folk poked fun at the young hero, and in the
workshops their jokes were repeated. The Govern-
ment finally engaged in the war, but not without be-
ing considerably exasperated with the colonies which
had begun it so hastily and clumsily. People enjoyed
stories at the expense of the colonies. And no one
had the least confidence in them. During the win-
ter (1755-56), the English Minister was greatly dis-
turbed by mysterious letters, which came from Am-
erica to the French Ambassador in London; he inter-
cepted them. Traitors, with accomplices in America
and Ireland, were proposing to organize a mutiny in
the American colonies. The centre of the plot seemed
to be somewhere in Pennsylvania or Virginia. These
missives were issued by an American commissioned
officer, holding a command sufficiently important for
him to have an aide-de-camp. This officer was in in-
timate communication with the Cherokee Indians.
He boasted of being able to lure them, as well as his
contingent of troops, away from the English cause.
This was an act of high treason and was of the utmost
danger.
Suspicion fell upon many American officers: Lyd-
ius, George Croghan, Washington's name, were men-
tioned. Had not his behaviour been unrestrained
and troublesome for two years? When General the
Earl of Loudoun, sent in the name of the King of
England to organize the defence of America, reached
Miniatures of the French and Indian War
These little prints are from a curious series of miniature prints
entitled * French and Indian War. A short History in Miniatures
of the Origin and Progress of the late War from its Commence-
ment to the Exchange of the Ratification of Peace between Great
Britain, France and Spain, on the loth of Feb'y 1763,' probably
published in London in 1765. The series comprises fifty-eight
miniatures and as many legends. They are fastened together and
fold up so as to go into a small silver box. On the top is a portrait
of George II and on the bottom a portrait of George III. The first
print shows the English traders dealing with the Indians before the
French * encroached'; the second shows the Marquis Duquesne,
French Governor of Canada, sending the Sieur de S^int Pierre to
command on the Ohio; the third shows the Fr^pf invading the
English territory possibly the battle at Great Meadows, as
Washington is mentioned in the legend (a village is burning on
the right and a fort bombarded on the left) ; the fourth shows fur-
ther battles on the Ohio, possibly including Braddock's defeat.
This rather rare set belongs to the French-American Museum at
Blerancourt, to which it was presented by Miss Anne Morgan.
MINIATURES OF THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 99
those shores, the first thing he did was to look into
the matter. As soon as he arrived, he sent for Frank-
lin and asked him who in America was sold to the
French: Lydius, Washington, or Croghan especially
Croghan.
Franklin, who knew the colonies well and who had
already penetrated the character of Colonel Washing-
ton, pointed out to Loudoun that this hypothesis was
ridiculous. He mentioned the name of an Irish
Catholic* The Earl of Loudoun listened to him. He
made a note of it. He always made notes. But he
seems to have done nothing decisive. He rarely did
anything decisive. In short, on this occasion, he had
not the time.
Such was Washington's position in the universe in
1756.*^
But in the colonies he was a hero. Far from hurting
him with the Americans, the hatred of the French and
the jeering of the English stimulated his compatri-
ots* admiration for him. He had become a national
symbol. In the middle of the blood-stained glade, in
the disorder and panic which seized the English
regulars, the young Colonel calm and heroic
stood out as a symbol of all America. His praises
were sung from Charleston to Boston, while Braddock
was mocked.
Moreover, he was a gentleman of Virginia. His
equals [ n other words, his relatives and friends
flocked round him, and, once again in Williamsburg,
he found that he was the heart of his clan. In August,
1755, he was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the
Virginia forces.
ioo GEORGE WASHINGTON
THE EDUCATION OF A LEADER
The newspapers of the entire world recorded this
decision as once more a defiance of France and an in-
direct lesson to England. In the country where an
Englishman had lost everything for them, the Vir-
ginians had chosen one of their own people to save as
much as possible from the ruins. The 'Gazette de
France/ the 'Courrier d' Avignon/ the Dutch and
English gazettes vied with each other in quoting the
American newspapers: The Governor of Virginia has
raised with the greatest possible haste, a Regiment of
1,200 men over whom Colonel Washington will be in
command/
But the new chief was not rejoicing in his fame.
His heart burned with indignation and disgust. The
defeat had seemed to him absurd and ignominious, and
the abuse, pouring in on all sides against his friend
and old chief Braddock, who had died on the field of
honour, angered him. But his hands were tied. He
had been exhausted by that arduous campaign, his
means were greatly reduced by his losses in the two
unfortunate expeditions, his estate was running down,
and his only distractions were his fame and that re-
spectful but hopeless love which filled his soul for Mrs.
Fairfax.
Accordingly, he was glad to set off, but his task was
not an easy one. Unspeakable panic reigned in the
West. The population, surging like a wave and cer-
tain that the worst was yet in store for them, saw dis-
aster everywhere. Gossip even spread to the effect
that the country around Winchester had been ravaged
by the Indians. They had come with fire and sword;
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 101
from the town, it was said, one could hear the weeping
and the shrieks of the miserable people. According to
several, the town itself had been seized and looted.
Washington dashed there in haste: 'When we came
there, whom should we find occasioning all this dis-
turbance, but three drunken soldiers of the light-
horse, carousing, firing their pistols and uttering the
most unheard-of imprecations P 26
The people in the interior were apathetic. It was
next to impossible to levy troops there and quite im-
possible to keep them under arms; as soon as they re-
ceived their bounty, the soldiers deserted, with the
easy assistance of the population in whose company
they gaily drank up their five pounds, no doubt rais-
ing their cups to drink the good health of the Indians !
If the lowly agreed too well, those in power did not
agree well enough. There were nothing but quarrels
about precedence. Washington had hardly stationed
himself at the frontier with a little group of men,
collected with the greatest difficulty, before he was
obliged to fight with his brother officers to uphold his
rights and prerogatives. He occupied Fort Cumber-
land situated on the soil of Maryland and which was
destined to defend the western portion of Virginia.
His rank was that of colonel, but he held a brevet
signed by the Governor of Virginia. As it happened,
Fort Cumberland also sheltered Captain Dagworthy,
who, although only a captain, tried to command
Washington, for had he not two brevets one from
the King of England and the other from the Governor
of Maryland? As 'regular' he would not agree to give
precedence to a 'provincial/ Nor would Washington
102 GEORGE WASHINGTON
give precedence to a captain, one of whose brevets
had expired, while the other was worth less than that
which he, himself, had been granted. 27
Dagworthy referred the matter to the Governor of
Maryland, Sharpe, who said that he was right.
Washington referred the matter to the Governor of
Virginia, Dinwiddie, who upheld him.
Sharpe's decision could no more affect Washington
than could Dinwiddie's impress Dagworthy. Things
grew bitter. As commander of the fort, Dagworthy
took it upon himself to distribute to all the troops of
the fort alike the provisions sent from Virginia for the
soldiers of Virginia. Washington objected that it was
unfair to give the food of those who had paid for it to
others. Dagworthy replied that, as in war danger was
common to all, so should supplies be common to all.
Washington decided not to endure so much inso-
lence any longer. He begged Dinwiddie to allow him
to go to Boston to meet Governor Shirley, the Com-
mander-in-Chief of the English forces, while waiting
for the arrival of a new general from England (Lou-
doun). Dinwiddie did not feel that he dared refuse. In
mid-winter, while the frontier burned, while the In-
dians howled around every plantation, while the
French held the region of the Ohio under bondage,
Colonel Washington made a journey of sixteen hun-
dred miles to find out who was to be the commander
of Fort Cumberland. The expedition took him fifty
days and cost him many pounds. 28
It is indeed a picturesque memory when we recall
the spectacle of this young colonel of Virginia, twenty-
four years of age, followed by his aide-de-camp,
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 103
Captain G. Mercer, and his two grooms, T. Bishop
and J. Alton, on his way to Boston to determine a
quarrel of precedence. Washington was a gentleman,
and he could bear suffering, even injustice, on the
condition that it cast no reflection upon his honour
and his rank. In spite of his noble Virginian ancestry,
the mainstay of his life, in spite of the fact that he
never made useless journeys for he was the most
sedentary of Americans, or, for that matter, of the
great men of the eighteenth century he did not
falter before this long expedition.
He was right. If he did not command respect, he
would have no influence in Virginia and would not be
able to carry through the important work which he
alone could execute. He was not a moralist but a real-
ist, who perfectly discerned the conditions of life in
his own circle and times always remembering his
"Rules of Behaviour/ While he could tolerate all sorts
of impudence, he drew the line at anything which
might lose him the esteem of his own class.
This journey marks an epoch in American history.
The Virginian was a local aristocracy. When the
members of it were wealthy, they went to amuse
themselves to England, where they always sent their
children to finish their education. Not like the
wealthy of Boston, Philadelphia, and Carolina, they
had never had much intercourse with their own kind
in the seaports of their own country or in those of the
West Indies. His own plantation and London was
the complete outlook of a Virginian. Washington was
one of the first to turn toward the other colonies. The
man who was to judge his question was a Bostonian.
io 4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
In the course of this journey. Colonel Washington
danced and drank punch at the Assembly in Philadel-
phia, then the most elegant social gathering on the
continent. He conducted the most charming of the
Quakeresses to see the 'Microcosm/ an importation
from London which was the delight of the fashionable
crowd. In New York he played at cards with the
Governor, he frequented the club of the distinguished
young men and contemplated marrying a charming
young lady. In Boston he was the guest of the Gov-
ernor and met all the prominent merchants. He was
already known as a bold soldier. In the lodges he
was greeted as a brother. He became a reality, a con-
crete being, a personage in his handsome blue-and-
buff uniform, with his distinguished air, his silence and
that gracious and embarrassed manner which showed
how noble he really was. Only to see him revealed
him a leader the leader. Shirley ordered Dag-
worthy to obey.
Washington, by this journey in 1765, accustomed
the other colonials to look upon the Virginians as lead-
ers, and upon himself as the leader a lesson which
they did not forget.
WASHINGTON AND HIS SOLDIERS
Naturally enough, he found everything in disorder
on his return; there was panic amongst the civilians,
want of discipline amongst the troops and lack of co-
hesion in the government.
For two years he struggled in the midst of these dif-
ficulties. It was really here that he served his appren-
ticeship in the army and in the art of command; it
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 105
was here that he appeared for the first time as a Vir-
ginian aristocrat, who, although never tiring of com-
manding his troops or of corresponding with Dinwid-
die his exalted superior nevertheless kept in
touch with his own class, depending upon it, fighting
for it and defending its rights as well as those of the
King and the British nation.
And he was an aristocrat in relation to his men, that
cowardly, cunning, dishonest throng known as the
Virginia militia, or those forcibly enrolled wretches
constituting the Regiment of Virginia. 29 His real bat-
tle during these two years was much less against the
French and their Indians (he seems not even to have
seen one) than against the riffraff of Virginia which he
had to put on its good behaviour. He was upheld, he
was spurred on (sometimes even more than he liked)
by his own class. Dissatisfied rumours reached him
from the Williamsburg Burgesses, who refused to ad-
mit that the soldiers and officers should consecrate
their time to swearing, drinking, card-playing, merry-
making, and deserting. In April and again in De-
cember, 1756, the Assembly fumed and fretted and
Washington's temper was upset. Even the 'Virginia
Gazette' took part. The officers and their Colonel de-
fended themselves as best they could. He, the Colo-
nel, had his opinion of his troops, and what he says
makes an unforgettable picture of the Virginia sol-
diers.
From April, 1756, he describes the state of mind of
the civilians making up the militia. When they hear
that the Indians are looting the neighbouring dis-
tricts, they refuse to take the slightest trouble, and
106 GEORGE WASHINGTON
end up merely by saying that their neighbours are
clumsy cowards. 'Let them defend themselves as we
shall do if they come to us/ they say. And they
stay at home. Somebody is certainly needed to
receive the Indians if they take it into their heads to
come there. Nothing has the least effect upon these
men neither promises, orders, threats; they remain
in the chimney-corner. It is enough luck if they are
not planning treachery. At first sight suspicion falls
on those of German extraction or Catholic origin, but
these are not the only ones whom the lootings terrify
and who willingly would go over to the French were
they allowed to do so, and if the Colonel were not be-
hind them.
If the Indians were to retire a little, if some insist-
ence was brought to bear, if the weather was not too
bad, if the militiamen felt that they wanted a little
exercise, they would perhaps set off at the time of
day it pleased them! Philosophically, they treated
these marches as pleasant strolls. Washington said
indignantly:
... The waste of provisions they make is unaccountable;
no method or order in being served or purchasing at the
best rates, but quite the reverse. Allowance for each
man, as other soldiers do, they look upon as the highest
indignity, and would sooner starve than carry a few days*
provisions on their backs for conveniency. But upon their
march, when breakfast is wanted, knock down the first
beef, &c., they meet with, and, after regaling themselves,
march on until dinner, when they take the same method,
and so for supper likewise, to the great oppression of the
people. 30
Meanwhile, they advance more like a procession of
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 107
merry-makers than troops. They refuse to guard
themselves, to march in step, to have scouts. Even
when installed in a fort, they live as if they were at an
inn. It is not a difficult matter to surprise them una-
wares and the Indians do not deprive themselves of
this pleasure. Making a great deal of noise and spend-
ing money are their sole virtues; nothing could stop
them. When they had had enough of these things,
they went home on any pretext, without even listen-
ing to their officers: their wife was ill, their cow calv-
ing, a family anniversary had to be celebrated. If
nothing of this sort happened at home to make an ex-
cuse to get them off before the end of their service
(one month's duration!), they vanished the very mo-
ment this service was over, without bothering to dis-
cover whether the enemy threatened to attack or if
any similar contingency might present itself. They
simply went off.
The worst of all was their lack of social discipline.
Each wished to be an officer and the majority of them
succeeded in passing as such.
. . . They are obstinate, self-willed, perverse, of little
or no service to the people and very burthensome to the
country. Every mean individual has his own crude notions
of things, and must undertake to direct. If his advice
is neglected, he thinks himself slighted, abused and in-
jured; and to redress his wrongs, will depart for his home. 31
After several bad disasters had been caused by the
militia, Washington thought it useless that so much
money should be spent without other result than their
afflicting the colonists or killing each other. So he
tried to make use only of his own regiment. There, at
io8 GEORGE WASHINGTON
least, he had his body of officers chosen by himself and
his recruits levied by the colony. This plan should
have worked, but the blossoms of hope and reality do
not grow on the same bush the officers gambled,
drank, and made love or made debts. The soldiers de-
voted all their attention to deserting. Although they
were not good for much, they knew all about the nine
hundred and ninety-nine methods of deserting.
Even to enroll them was troublesome enough! A
man really required a taste for both adventure and
misery to serve as a Virginia regular. While the Eng-
lish regular drew eight pence a day and those of New
England one shilling per day (with rum, dried pease,
tobacco, ginger and vinegar), those of Pennsylvania
the royal sum of one shilling and sixpence, the poor
lads of Virginia only received sixpence, and twopence
a day was withheld for their uniforms. With their
remaining fourpence they had to provide their own
shoes, shirts, stockings, tobacco, and the luxuries of
life. They found this intolerable, and complained that
this forced them to '... drag through a disagreeable
service in the most disagreeable manner/ 32 Quite un-
derstandable, too!
Add, also, to such misery, the exploitation by pro-
fiteers. 'The rates of their liquor/ declared Washing-
ton, 'are immoderatly high, and the publicans through-
out the country charge one shilling per meal, cur-
rency, for soldier's diet ' So it was almost a miracle
when the poor boys managed to procure enough li-
quor. In the end, however, they seem to have been suc-
cessful, for they passed the greater part of their time
dead drunk, finding here, at least, some consolation.
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 109
Washington did everything in his power to better
their lot and their morale. The most efficacious
method, he believed, was a thousand strokes of the
whip. This expression occurs so often in Washington 's
correspondence that it seems almost like a refrain. Al-
though a remedy for many evils, it did not serve for
all. So many of the recruits were in bad health, beat-
ing them would have been useless. Much better send
them home Washington sometimes did so. At
other times he had Quakers to deal with hard-
headed, thick-skinned, invincible-hearted Quakers;
all the whippings in the world would not have com-
pelled them to fight, bear arms, work, or do anything,
for that matter, which might contribute to the war.
On these gentlemen he tried a certain kind of diet,
very good for the health indeed !
Although the Quakers refused to obey, at least they
remained in one place not the case with the other
recruits. There could have been nothing more flighty
than a Virginia recruit. From Washington's descrip-
tion of them, we have a picture of a child pursuing a
flock of sparrows scattered over a large field.
In May, 1756, the militia, by its bad example, had
completely corrupted the regulars, who deserted en
masse** 3 Washington stationed certain officers at the
cross-roads and caught a few of the fugitives; he took
great pride in having captured two ! This was really
an exception, for, usually, the gallant fellows vanished
in pairs and nothing was ever heard of them again.
And this went on during the entire summer of 1756.
In August, sixteen of them departed in a single group
on a s single day 'The more the merrier!' Those
no GEORGE WASHINGTON
who had a relish for enrolling and then deserting
joined up with the Pennsylvanians who received bet-
ter pay and a good enlistment bonus. In September,
more deserters and a horse-thief amongst them. In
December they poured out in a stream. During the
night of the 3d-4th, eighteen soldiers disappeared, not
because of any particular disgust for army life, but
because of a lust for change. They deserted the Vir-
ginians to enlist with the Royal American Regiment,
for which they then raised recruits in the district, and
this, with the consent of the Governor of Virginia too!
Washington, infuriated by such conduct, by this "fla-
grant instance of unnatural, unjust and dishonourable
proceedings/ 34 at once sent a platoon of twenty-six
men with a captain to search them out. Sixteen men
were caught; they confessed to having been persuaded
by the recruiting officer of the Royal American Regi-
ment, an individual who had actually pledged them to
kill any of their officers who might attempt to detain
them or bring them back to the Virginia Regiment!
In 1757, the evil increased. In January, renewed
sedition Driven to extremity, Washington put
them under court-martial; they were soundly beaten
and some even condemned to death. Nothing had the
least effect, however; the desertions continued.
The Colonel tried gentleness on them, but no more
successfully. In July, everything was about as bad as
it could be. Washington wrote despairingly:
This infamous practice, wherein such numbers of our
men have deserted. . . has been wonderfully successful; and
is now arrived at such a height, that nothing can stop its
scandalous progress, but the severest punishments, and
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND in
most striking examples. Since mine of yesterday, no less
than 24 of the Draughts (after having received their
money and clothes) deserted.
Although he had taken every precaution and the roads
were guarded, the deserters were so bold that they
wounded an officer detailed to retrieve them, and one
of the soldiers on patrol. Out of four hundred recruits,
one hundred and fourteen deserted within the space of
a few days. Washington finally decided to have a gal-
lows erected, forty feet in height, with the intention of
really scaring them. He then resolved to hang two or
three of the thirty men whom he had recaptured. This
event was celebrated on Thursday, July 27, 1757, be-
fore the front line, although Washington greatly re-
gretted having to hang soldiers instead of shooting
them, as was both seemly and according to rule. His
intention, however, was to play upon the troops' im-
agination and produce a profound impression. This
was his only alternative. The faces of the onlookers
during this performance promised hopefully for the
future.
After that he was able to meet his men with that
friendly and lofty attitude which he preferred to all
others.
Alas ! he did not maintain it for long. In September,
desertion en masse commenced again. Out of twenty-
nine Luneburg recruits, fifteen deserted. Washington
was worn out.
Your Honour may observe [he wrote to Dinwiddie], by
the enclosed list of deserters, all of whom have left the
regiment since the last return I sent, and after having
received too their clothes, arms and bounty-money, how
iia GEORGE WASHINGTON
prevelent still is that infamous practice among the das-
tardly drafts, especially at this garrison, where I indulge
them in every thing but idleness, and in that I cannot, the
nature of the work requiring the contrary. Lenity, so far
from producing its desired effects, rather emboldens them
in these villainous undertakings. One of those who were
condemned to be hanged deserted immediately upon
receiving his pardon. In short they tire my patience, and
almost weary me to death. The expense of pursuing them
is very considerable, and to suffer them to escape, without
aiming at pursuit, is but giving up the point, altho' we
have had little success of late. 35
His limit of vexation was reached some days later
when his adjutant deserted after having sold to the
civilians and squandered a large portion of the regi-
mental food and stores. Washington would have
liked to bring all these rascals to justice, but the laws
of Virginia offered no such facilities. After fighting
against the deserting soldiers, he had to fight against
the civilians, who rendered them help and profited by
their desertion, and against the tribunals which pro-
tected the civilians.
Washington was sick with disgust and weariness.
Another might have weakened, but he was determined
not to give in. Monotonously and stubbornly, he re-
turned to the fray. He prevailed upon the Assembly
and the Governor to take measures against the deser-
tion, persuaded his officers to watch their men closely,
and brought his soldiers to a better understanding of
their duty. After the early part of 1758, he began to
have his troops under control and had perfected their
discipline* Thanks to his patience and his anxious and
untiring care for every detail, he had won out 3 al-
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 113
though not the least reason for his success was his
great, personal dignity.
COLONEL WASHINGTON AND HIS CHIEFS
Washington should at last have been able to take
an offensive stand instead of defensive. That boon,
longed for by all military chiefs as reward for much
hard work, should have been granted him; in other
words, a brilliant, active, and decisive campaign.
Nothing of the sort happened. Even as colonel, in-
stead of being able to prove his courage, Destiny
seemed bent upon making him exploit his peaceful and
civic qualities.
As commander of the First Virginia Regiment, he
was under the direct command of the Governor, Din-
widdie.
As officer in charge of the defence of the frontier of
Virginia, he was obliged to follow the instructions of
the Virginia Assembly.
As a colonel of British troops, face to face with his
French and Indian enemies, he was expected to obey
the military orders of the general appointed by His
Majesty as commander of his troops in America.
Thus, Washington carried on three correspon-
dences: one with Dinwiddie who despatched orders to
him, in the beginning friendly enough; one with John
Robinson, the President of the Assembly, his friend
and protector, through whom Washington often per-
suaded the Assembly to give orders to Dinwiddie; one
with Stanwix, then Loudoun, then Bouquet, by whom
he was to be guided.
If these three authorities had been in agreement,
ii 4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
obedience would have been simple enough, but, as
they never appeared to be, Washington's r61e became
all the more difficult, responsible, and ticklish. Most
often it happened that when the Assembly was for
him, the two functionaries of the King, Dinwiddie and
the English general, were against him. Ordinarily he
defended the British interests and those of Virginia at
the same time. As the English general had only gen-
eral matters to trouble him, his role was easy enough.
Nor was the position of the Assembly too trying; its
attention was first of all concentrated on local in-
terests, or on those of its electors. Dinwiddie's situa-
tion, however, was a complicated one; his duty was to
please his King and Master, who had sent him to
America, without too much displeasing the Virginians,
his subjects, who were quite capable of making his life
odious. This, they had tried at first, even going so
far as to send a delegate to London with complaints
against Dinwiddie. The exertions of the Governor
and the rude welcome tendered to the delegate calmed
the zeal of the Assembly. It fell back upon a sort of
bad-tempered cordiality none too charming; the
letters from Washington, for all that, disseminated
still more bitter feeling.
Above all, the Assembly wished to protect its elec-
tors, while Dinwiddie wanted to cleave the French
asunder. Washington was the arbitrator. From every
standpoint he, and only he, would be capable of draw-
ing up the plan of battle. At first, he was wholly in
favour of the defensive. He insisted that a chain of
little forts be constructed along the entire Virginia
frontier. Dinwiddie ended by seeing wisdom in the
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 115
project, and agreed also the Assembly. Everything
was going well (summer, 1756).
Unfortunately, the question of Fort Cumberland
hinged upon this. This fort, on Maryland territory,
was an advanced post holding the most important
position on the southern frontier. Although of great
value as a strategical point, it had little value as a
protection for the Virginians, who thought it useless to
appropriate funds or to mobilize their forces to guard
it. At least, this was the opinion of Washington, of
Robinson, and of the members of the Assembly. It
was not, however, that of the English Government,
and Dinwiddie was forced to order Washington not
to abandon the fort, but, on the contrary, to con-
centrate his troops there and to discontinue the work
on the little Virginian forts.
William Fairfax had said to Washington in the
name of his associates and friends in the Assembly:
The Council and the Burgesses are mostly your friends;
so that if you have not always particular instructions from
the Governor, which you think necessary and desire, the
omission, or neglect, may proceed from the confidence
entertained in your ability and discretion to do what is fit
and praiseworthy. 36
Thus encouraged, he made headway. His letters to
Robinson had the effect of sending the Assembly on
the highroad to opposition. Much to Dinwiddie's
annoyance, it demanded the evacuation of Fort
Cumberland. Both sides grew stubborn and ended
by being pig-headed. Dinwiddie wrote to Washington:
As to Fort Cumberland, it's a King's Fort and a Maga-
ii6 GEORGE WASHINGTON
zine for stores. It is not in my power to order it to be de-
serted... at present it must be properly supported with
men.
In a letter to Robinson, Washington interpreted this
reply, saying (5th August, 1756):
The following is an exact copy of his answer, 'Fort
Cumberland is a King's fort, and built chiefly at the charge
of the colony therefore properly under our direction, until
a governor is appointed. 5 Now whether I am to under-
stand this ay or no to the plain, simple question asked,
viz: 'Is the fort to be continued or removed?" I
know not. But in all important matters I am directed in
this ambiguous and uncertain way .
This conflict of principles turned into a conflict of
individuals. The person to whom he wrote on June
10, 1754 'Believe me, Hon'ble Sir, when I assure
you, my breast is warmed with every generous sen-
timent, that your goodness can inspire. I want no-
thing but opportunity to testifie my sincere regard for
your person, to whom I stand indebted for so many
unmerited favours' 37 this same person had become
an enemy. Dinwiddie and Washington, carried away
by their contrary ideas of strategy, had come to blows.
Their conflict began by indirect thrusts and then con-
tinued by direct stabs. In December, 1756, after hav-
ing received from Dinwiddie the urgent order to
conduct one hundred men to Fort Cumberland, Wash-
ington wrote to him:
Your Honour's late and unexpected order has caused the
utmost terror and consternation in the people, and will, I
fear, be productive of numberless evils, not only in this
place, and the public works erecting here, but to the
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 117
country in general, who seem to be in the greatest dread of
the consequences.
This is the spirit in which the young Colonel addressed
the old Governor.
The latter replied, however:
You seem to charge neglect in me, not having proper
conductors. This charge is unmannerly, as I did what I
thought proper, though disappointed by the villainous
traders...
So, paying less and less heed to the Colonel's opin-
ions, Dinwiddie issued orders which became more
and more summary and imperious.
It was impossible for them to agree; the one spoke
with the haughtiness of a superior functionary, the
other with the pride of a gentleman supported by his
own class. This being so, Dinwiddie scrupulously de-
fended the British Empire against the French and
against the evil tendencies of the English colonies;
Washington regarded himself as the earnest defender
of British liberty as opposed to French barbarity and
English invasion.
He endeavoured to point out to Dinwiddie the
absurdity of the orders he received from him :
I am a little at loss to understand the meaning of your
Honour's orders, and the opinion of the Council, when I am
directed to evacuate all the stockade forts, and at the same
time to march only one hundred men to Fort Cumber-
land, and to continue the like number here to garrison Fort
Loudoun. If the stockade are all abandoned, there will be
more men than are required for these two purposes, and
the communication between them of near eighty miles,
will be left without a settler, unguarded and exposed. But
ii8 GEORGE WASHINGTON
I mean nothing by asking this question than to know your
Honour's intentions, which I would willingly pay strict
obedience to. 38
Meanwhile he gave out a message to the colonists:
You may assure the settlement, that this unexpected,
and, if I may be allowed to say, unavoidable step was taken
without my concurrence and knowledge; that is an express
order from the Governor, and can neither be evaded nor
delayed.
He protested at the same time in energetic terms to
the President of the Assembly.
Surely, he said, his Honour and the Council are not fully
acquainted with the situation and circumstances of the
unhappy frontiers thus to expose so valuable a tract as the
Branch, in order to support a fortification in itself (con-
sidering our present feebleness) of very little importance
to the inhabitants of the Colony [i.e. Fort Cumberland]
And he added also:
My orders are dark, doubtful and uncertain; today ap-
proved, tomorrow condemned. Left to act and proceed at
hazard, accountable for the consequences, and blamed
without the benefit of defence, if you can think my situa-
tion capable to excite the smallest degree of envy or afford
the least satisfaction the truth is yet hidden from you and
you entertain notions very different from the reality of the
case.
Well supported as he was by public opinion and the
Assembly, Washington might have been in a very
strong position. But he had rough customers to deal
with. If the Governor did not quite dare to attack
him directly, knowing him to be upheld by the Vir-
ginia aristocracy, the discontented subordinates and
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 119
jealous colleagues did not entertain the same scruples.
With them lay the danger for the young chief. In the
Assembly the word went round that he managed his
regiment badly. They circulated the news that, in
disobedience to Dinwiddie's orders, he had remained
at Winchester, being less exposed to danger there,
instead of going to Fort Cumberland, where, in his
absence, the Virginia troops had become shockingly
undisciplined (December, 1756). Worse, from Win-
chester, where the population finally became harassed
by the presence of troops, all sorts of unkind rumours
reached the Assembly, and Washington wrote mourn-
fiilly:
I am convinced that it would give pleasure to the
Governor to hear that I was involved in trouble, however
undeservedly, such are his dispositions towards me. 39
In the autumn of 1757, the Governor was to have
this pleasure. Actually, Washington heard that Mr*
Carter had said, that Mr. Charles Robinson had said,
that Colonel Richard Corbin had said, that Colonel
Peachy had said, that he, Washington, had said in
private according to gossip that there was not
a single imminent danger, not a single Indian in the
neighbourhood. (This referred to that entire period
of the spring of 1756 when he was wrangling with Din-
widdie about maintaining the Virginia troops along
the Virginia frontier, and when he begged Dinwiddie
to send him recruits and money.) Judged by this
gossip, Washington would have admitted that all his
recriminations were scheming tricks! This rumour
took wing and greatly harmed him with Dinwiddie,
120 GEORGE WASHINGTON
the Council, and even certain members of the As-
sembly. He found himself on trial before Virginian
morals and public opinion, not, as before, with the
chance of attacking Dinwiddie, but having to defend
himself. This he did vehemently, but, in the process,
he was forced to depend on Dinwiddie's loyalty
which he found most unpleasant.
It is uncertain in what light my services may have ap-
peared to your Honour, but this I know, and it is the highest
consolation I am capable of feeling, that no man that ever
was employed in a public capacity, had endeavoured to
discharge the trust reposed in him with greater honesty
and more zeal for the country's interest, than I have done.
. . . On the other hand, it is hard to have my character
arraigned, and my actions condemned without a hearing.
I must therefore again beg in more plain, and in very
earnest ferms, to know, if Colonel Corbin has taken the
liberty of representing my character to your Honour with
such ungentlemanly freedom as the letter implies ? Your
condescension herein will be acknowledged, as a singular
favor done your Honour's most obedient, humble Servant. 40
Which gave Dinwiddie the opportunity to reply
with polite and stony-hearted indifference:
Your other letter of the iyth I perused. I would gladly
hope there is no truth in it. I never heard of it before, or
did I ever conceive you would have sent down any alarms
without proper foundation. However, I shall show it to
Colonel Corbin when he comes to town; but I'd advise you
not to give credit to every idle story you hear; for if I was
to notice reports of different kinds, I should be constantly
perplexed.
My conduct to you from the beginning was always
friendly; but you know I had great reason to suspect you
of ingratitude, which I am convinced your own conscience
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND iai
and reflection must allow, I had reason to be angry, but
this I endeavor to forget; but I cannot think Colonel Cor-
bin guilty of what is reported. However, as I have his
Majesty's leave to go to England, I propose leaving this
in November and I wish my successor may show you as
much friendship as I have done. 41
And, to emphasize this, he refused the Colonel the
permission, so warmly solicited, to go to Williamsburg
to give an account of himself and make up his
accounts.
You have no accounts that I know of to settle with me,
[said Dinwiddie] and what accounts you have to settle
with the country may be done at a more proper time. 42
Thus parted the Governor and the Colonel. They
were destined never to meet again. Dinwiddie carried
away with him the memory of an obstinate young
officer, hard to manage and much too given over to
political intrigue. He cherished less ill-will towards
Washington's ingratitude than towards that mixture
of military stubbornness and political cunning, which
he thought he detected there. But when all was said
and done, he shrugged his shoulders, only too glad to
leave the shores of Virginia behind him.
This trait of obstinacy in Washington, together with
his talent for understanding his own kind, assured
America's future. And notwithstanding all these
incidents, the country looked upon Washington as
the Military Hero of Virginia.
122 GEORGE WASHINGTON
THE LAST CAMPAIGN" OF COLONEL WASHINGTON
OFFICER OF His BRITANNIC MAJESTY
After the exceedingly hard winter of 1757-58, dur-
ing which Washington, completely worn out, exasper-
ated and ill to the point of needing medical care,
thought his last hour had come, Spring appeared like
a Messenger of Hope.
In Europe, the King of Prussia had covered himself
with a mantle of immortal glory; on the seas, the
English fleet held supreme sway; in America, the
French had been driven back on all sides and the
colonial troops well organized and well commanded
at last took the offensive. They could see the
dawn of victory rising before them. Washington,
whose gaze had been riveted upon Fort Duquesne
for four years, dreamed only of the day when he would
enter it at the head of his troops, liberating forever
the Virginia frontiers from the Indian menace, and
restoring its patrimony to the Ohio Company.
Washington no longer dreaded the daily desertions
of his soldiers, and his officers were well in hand. The
departure of Dinwiddie left the land free to be ad-
ministered by its aristocracy and the country was
governed by the President of the Council. All
promised well.
Unfortunately, they began by wasting time. Then,
as leader of the expedition against Fort Duquesne,
Colonel Bouquet prepared his plans of attack. The
hottest days had come. It was August. Washington
was feverish. And what a disappointment when he
learned that Bouquet intended to approach Fort
Duquesne by the north road across Pennsylvania
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 123
instead of making use of the south road over which
Washington had passed in 1754 and Braddock in
1755* Bouquet preferred the north road; it was
shorter, less unfrequented.
Washington was dismayed* Since 1754, he had
been fighting for England and the Ohio Company.
For them, he had nearly been killed, worse, nearly
disgraced; and now that success was in sight, they
would approach Fort Duquesne by the north, would
open up a new road, thereby placing these rich lands
within easy reach of Pennsylvania and depriving the
Virginians of the just fruits of their labours!
In spite of all his former troubles and the fatigue
fast overcoming him, he was not, however, too tired
to do battle. On the 8th of August, he sent Bouquet
a long letter to dissuade him from carrying out the
journey in this way: the south road had even been
picked out by the Indians themselves and was al-
ready a track. What useless effort to construct one in
the north across the forests and mountains! This
alone would take so much time that they might as
well give up the attack on Fort Duquesne this year.
And how discouraging for the Southern colonies, al-
ready tired by their protracted effort.*.. He even
went to confer with Bouquet, but unsuccessfully.
On his return he wrote:
If Colonel Bouquet succeeds in this point with his gen-
eral, all is lost all is lost indeed! (Our enterprise will be
ruined, and we shall be stopped at the Laurel Hill this
winter; but not to gather laurels. . . **
He fought with and against everyone, even to the
I2 4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
point of exasperating General Forbes, who wrote in
criticism of him, 'His behaviour about the roads was
no ways like a soldier's/ Once the orders were given,
he obeyed them scrupulously, but, in his reports to
Bouquet, he never left off extolling the advantages
the other road would have offered :
Every one knows what could have been done on the old
road few can guess what will be done on the new, there
being not only the difficulties of the Road to encounter,
but the chance of a French reinforcement also, but it is
useless to add on this head. I should rather apologise for
what I have said. '
He was more open with the President of the As-
sembly:
My dear Sir, We are still encamped here, very sickly and
quite disspirited at the prospect before us. That appear-
ance of glory, which we had once in view, that hope, that
laudable ambition of serving our country, and meriting its
applause, are now no more; but dwindled into ease, sloth,
and fatal inactivity. In a word all is lost. . . . The conduct
of jour leaders ... is tempered with something I do not care
to give a name to P-i-v-n artifice, to whose selfish views I
ascribe this miscarriage of this expedition; for nothing now
but a miracle can bring this campaign to a happy issue.
The worst, or, at least, the most trying, fact re-
mained that this infernal and hateful road was to be
constructed, its trees cut, its soil levelled, its bridges
built, by the Virginia troops those exploited and
victimized gulls were, in short, destined to endure
a thousand sufferings. Washington had never antici-
pated that his campaign of revenge against the
French would be so impregnated with bitterness
THE WASHINGTON LEGEND 125
against his English chiefs and American collaborators.
He fought the French, served his King loyally, but
his attitude of mind towards his companions-in-arms
was bitter*
When, on the I3th of September, 1758, Major
Grant, sent with an advance-guard of eight hundred
men to observe Fort Duquesne, was beaten by the
French under its very walls, Washington, in spite of
his patriotic regrets, could not suppress a certain
satisfaction. This intelligence he called 'news of a
very interesting nature/
From all the accounts... it appears very clear, that this
was either a very ill-concerted or ill-executed plan: perhaps
both... 44
Still, the Virginians fought bravely. They could
claim the honour of having been the first to fell trees,
the first to advance to the front, the first to risk their
lives; in these things, as in everything else, it was
Colonel Washington who set the most chivalrous
example of courage, even while showing his dis-
approval of every plan and of all the movements of
the army. On the joth of October, 1758, he wrote
again from Loyal Hanna:
My march to this post gave me an opportunity of form-
ing a judgment of the road, and I can truly say, that it is
indescribably bad.
He arrived on the 25th of November in sight of
Fort Duquesne, experiencing, at the same time, the
joy of surprise and a sort of disappointment. In the
black night-skies of autumn, the red reflections danced
above the tree-tops. The French had set fire to their
ia6 GEORGE WASHINGTON
forts. Their canoes glided along the waters of the
Ohio River bearing away those five hundred defend-
ers of the fort who, for four years, had held in check
all the English troops of the Southern colonies, and
who now under cover of the night disappeared into
the mysterious depths of the forest. They had been
expelled, but not conquered.
On the following morning, November 25, the
English troops, numbering over four thousand sol-
diers, took possession of the smoking ruins of the
fort.
CHAPTER III
COLONEL WASHINGTON AT HOME
WASHINGTON left Fort Duquesne almost at once. He
went back to Virginia to take care of his health* A
few weeks later he resigned his commission.
He had done his work. He had given his country
the service that it had expected of him. The frontier
was safe, the Ohio lands solidly held.
He had won a unique position for himself in Vir-
ginia, where his courage, dogged obstinacy, and re-
markable understanding of the art of leading men were
fully recognized. He was a hero to his own class,
which had always supported him, well knowing that
he was entirely devoted to their cause.
Washington had gained for himself a great reputa-
tion in England; the generals and government officials
spoke of him as a resolute soldier and an able politi-
cian. In Europe, too, he had his reputation; the
French considered him as a perfect type of the coarse
and treacherous Englishman.
He had certainly learned a good deal since 1753.
He found out very soon that in order to have the
pleasure of hearing the bullets whistle past his ears,
he would have to pay dearly in the interminable bore-
dom of training, feeding, clothing, disciplining, and
leading his men. He had learned all too well that
there were brief moments of joyous excitement and
128 GEORGE WASHINGTON
weeks of tedious preoccupations. Washington was
one of the first great men of the eighteenth century
who had come to know by personal experience how
dull and laborious war could be. He had kept his
gentleman's love of hazard, but he had now no illusion
that war was, as the youth of Europe dreamed, a
thing of lace and ruffles.
These four years had spread his name all over the
world, formed his character and made him a great
man. But most of all they left him even more deeply
rooted in his native Virginia.
Virginia, from 1753 to 1759, a storm centre of hu-
man passions and anxieties, interested all the world.
Her situation forced Washington to the front. If it
ever comes to pass that she has again her predominant
place, she could never deny to her great son the re-
vival of his glory. But in 1759, Virginia appeared to be
simply a rich, distant, and unreal colony of the vast
British Empire.
THE GREAT LOVE OF COLONEL WASHINGTON x
For the next ten years Virginia seems to have been
lulled to sleep; the vast plantations and leisurely
towns were bathed in silence. Washington, too, took
refuge in silence; he was weary of all the disputing,
of all the turmoil which accompanied a military
campaign; he was tired of forever quarrelling with
others. And he needed all his energy for a much
greater struggle the struggle with himself.
He had met Sally Gary in 1748; she was tall and
willowy, not as beautiful as she was charming in her
proud way; her gaze was direct and penetrating, her
AT HOME 129
words just and profound; she was utterly different
from all women George Washington had up to then
found attractive. She was eighteen years old and had
just married the young officer's closest friend, George
William Fairfax of Belvoir, whose father had been
Washington's affectionate protector. All the Fair-
faxes were his friends, but Sally was dearer to him
than all the Fairfaxes put together.
He saw her, loved her at first sight, and gave him-
self to her unresistingly, but without abandon. In his
notebook he scrawled:
c 'Twas perfect love before,
But now I do adore . . . * 2
She was the queen of his thoughts and ruled over
them quite as if he had been one of the faithful,
chivalrous knights of the Middle Ages whom he so
closely resembled. There was everything to bring
them together; his intimacy with George William
Fairfax, the benevolent attitude toward him of the
entire family, the manners of the time, the habit of
constant visiting and extensive entertaining, the com-
mon interests and tastes, as well as the pleasures and
the courtesy with liberty of the eighteenth century.
But more than all this, their natures were profoundly
similar; they both had an instinctive liking for gran-
deur, and there existed between them that subtle
mutual understanding which sometimes unites two
people before they have even dreamed of under-
standing each other and which, in their case, estab-
lished a tie that nothing could destroy. But at the
same time, Fate had irrevocably separated them, for
130 GEORGE WASHINGTON
they had not met each other until after Sally had
married George Fairfax (December, 1748).
Washington, then a tall awkward lad, whose educa-
tion had been much neglected gave her every mark of
favour and attention which he could offer to a woman
capable of amusing herself by acting classic tragedies,
and conversing brilliantly. Sally Fairfax had grown
up in one of the most opulent manor houses of Vir-
ginia, and her father, Colonel Gary, possessed one of
the finest libraries in America. Her family had been
an important one in England, and consequently held
a very high rank in the colony. She had been well
educated, could converse in French; she knew how to
smile at the right moment or not smile; she under-
stood the art of gentle teasing which charmed men
and disarmed them, and possessed the still more
subtle accomplishment of questioning them in such
a way that they could not answer. She was a dignified
and faithful wife to George William Fairfax, whom all
regarded as the future Lord Fairfax, and who united
with a tendency toward liberalism the generosity of a
great gentleman and the benevolence of a good man.
Washington counted George Fairfax as his best
friend; in his small beginnings it was the Fairfaxes
who had helped him; at critical moments in his mili-
tary career it was they who supported him; in politics
he and Fairfax helped each other to become Burgesses,
and the labour on their neighbouring plantations was
divided between them. George Fairfax would look
after the work of Mount Vernon in the absence of
George Washington; George Washington managed
Belvoir when George Fairfax left on long voyages.
AT HOME 131
They lent each other carpenters, woodsmen, wagons,
carriages, boats, slaves, tools of all kinds, and all sorts
of comestibles. Their friendship filled their life.
Sally Fairfax was Washington's only love. It was
not that the two friends loved the same woman;
George Washington simply loved the wife of George
Fairfax. He could not help himself, he could not even
hide his love. His brother, John Augustine, knew
about it, for he was Washington's messenger during
campaigns; George Fairfax knew about it, and once,
when he was leaving on one of his travels, he advised
his wife to avoid any indiscretion; the Fairfax family
knew about it, for they were anxious to see Washing-
ton married (some of them, it is said, even took Sally
to task) ; the Washington family knew about it, be-
cause so many other people did, and the colony knew
about it, for it was small, and because in the eight-
eenth century it was the habit to be interested in
your neighbour's love affairs.
Everybody knew about it, but no one knew it
as bitterly as George Washington. During these
tragic years, when his life was constantly in danger
and his honour so often assailed, and when several
times he risked losing everything, George Washington
lived in an almost continual state of exaltation, al-
ternating hope and despair; he never stopped dream-
ing of Sally Fairfax and compared the wild surge of
his heart toward her with her unbroken reserve. Had
he been really wise, he would have guessed that she
was more on guard than he, but without having
escaped the contagion of love; for the teasing with
132 GEORGE WASHINGTON
which she overwhelmed him, and which she inter-
rupted by long intervals of silence, her enigmatic
notes, were all not without a certain skilful and care-
ful coquetry, which revealed not only a need to please,
but the desire to defend herself against others and
against herself. All the love letters which George
Washington sent to her, Sally Fairfax treasured all
her life. But he never knew it.
He begged her to speak; he did not realize that a
confession would have separated them forever
or, perhaps, he did not worry about that. She knew,
and she did worry. She set him an example of silence
at a time in his life when he was constantly berating
the French, the deserters, the militia, the Indians,
the Governor, the other colonies, and the British
generals. She remained silent, but the lesson in
silence which she gave him was eloquent enough, and
he was sufficiently discerning to comprehend it.
He, too, tried to forget, he made attempts to ar-
range his life well, but Destiny mocked his feeble
efforts; in 1752, he proposed for Miss Fauntleroy, a
good match for Virginia, but she did not find him
enough to her liking to marry him; in 1756, a Miss
Philipse of Yonkers was not sufficiently attractive, he
thought, to enable him to forget the woman who had
become his obsession. So he remained close to Sally,
separated from her by his sense of honor, and tortured
by the impetuosity of his violent disposition, which
the unnerving military events had still further over-
excited.
Finally she succeeded in making him understand
clearly what he ought always to have known. In
AT HOME 133
September, 1757, William Fairfax died, leaving to his
son George and to his daughter-in-law the estate and
manor of Belvoir, as well as properties in England.
George had to leave in 1757 to take up his rights of
succession; he left Sally behind him. In November,
Colonel Washington, whose unhappy love and wearing
campaigns had finished by exhausting him, arrived at
Mount Vernon, wasted by fever, stricken with con-
sumption, and condemned by the doctors. His house
was uncomfortable, as he had had neither the time nor
money to add conveniences, and from November,
1757, to February, 1758, he shivered and lay near
death. In his extremity, he appealed to Sally, asking
for her help, for green China tea, Canary wine, and
hartshorn.
He did not ask her for her pity, but he needed it
more than all the rest.
It is certain that she gave it to him she coddled
him, took care of him, and made him shirts, as her
account-book still shows. Finally, after long winter
weeks and when they had despaired of saving him, he
got well. But she had given him more than care, well-
tailored shirts, and courage; she had given him a les-
son; when he was at last on his feet again (February,
1758), he made a final decision and betook himself to
visiting a young, pleasant, plump, and rich little
widow, Martha Custis, nee Dandridge (March, I758). 3
She was a year older than he, and had just lost her
husband, who had left her two children and much
valuable property an estate of one hundred thou-
sand dollars for her, and one equally large to be divided
between her two children a large sum for the
i 3 4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
eighteenth century. She was a practical woman, and
having had an old husband who had left her his
fortune, she was now looking for a young one who
would keep it and manage it for her. She was a clever
woman, and although she had had but little formal
education, she was a good housekeeper, a lady, and
attractive and neat in appearance. She would be a
completely satisfactory wife and was well considered
by her neighbours. This was, doubtless, Washington's
impression. Like a good knight, he was ready to de-
fend the widow and her children, and to give them
his loyalty and protection. It was not hers or his to
give any deeper emotion.
Because of the legal privileges and rights entailed
by an estate, a marriage in an important family dur-
ing the eighteenth century was much more of a public
responsibility than a personal pleasure, and so it
was considered. Washington made his decision with
calmness and courage.
This was the moment that Sally Fairfax chose to
break her silence; she lost no time in congratulating
Washington and teasing him. She who had never
answered his letters and scarcely, it seemed, even read
them, now sent him two, one right after the other.
Perhaps she was not really willing that he should lose
sight of her forever. Washington almost went mad
with grief and joy. She asked him if his hurry to see
the war ended was because he was so eager to return
to his fiancee. Her question was easy to answer; he
would only have had to send her a copy of the letter
he had just written to Martha Custis on July 20,
1758:
MARTHA (DANDRIDGE) CUSTIS
BEFORE HER MARRIAGE TO WASHINGTON
AT HOME 135
July 20, 1758
We have begun our march for the Ohio. A courier is start-
ing for Williamsburg, and I embrace the opportunity to
send a few words to one whose life is now inseparable from
mine. Since that happy hour when we made our pledges to
each other, my thoughts have been continually going out
to you as another self. That an all-powerful Providence
may keep us both in safety is the prayer of your ever faith-
ful and affectionate friend. 4
This letter would not have failed to satisfy Sally
Fairfax, woman as she was. The letter he sent her
was one which must, indeed, have contented her. It
read:
Camp at Fort Cumberland
iath Sept. 1758
DEAR MADAM :
Yesterday I was honoured with your short but very
agreeable favour of the first inst. How joyfully I catch at
the happy occasion of renewing a correspondence which I
feared was disrelished on your part, I leave to time, that
never failing expositor of all things, and to a monitor
equally faithful in my own breast, to testify. In silence I
now express my joy; silence, which in some cases, I wish
the present, speaks more intelligently than the sweetest
eloquence.
If you allow that any honour can be derived from my
opposition to our present system of management, you de-
stroy the merit of it entirely in me by attributing my
anxiety to the animating prospect of possessing Mrs.
Custis, when I need not tell you; guess yourself. Should
not my own Honour and the country's welfare be the ex-
citement? 'Tis true I profess myself a votary of love. I
acknowledge that a lady is in the case, and further I con-
fess that this lady is known to you. Yes, Madame, as well
as she is to one who is too sensible of her charms to deny
136 GEORGE WASHINGTON
the Power whose influence he feels and must ever submit
to. I feel the force of her amiable beauties in the recollec-
tion of a thousand tender passages that I could wish to
obliterate, till I am bid to revive them. But experience,
alas! sadly reminds me how impossible this is, and evinces
an opinion which I have long entertained, that there is a
Destiny which has control of our actions, not to be resisted
by the strongest efforts of Human Nature.
You have drawn me, dear Madame, or rather I have
drawn myself, into an honest confession of a simple fact.
Misconstrue not my meaning; doubt it not, nor expose it.
The world has no business to know the object of my love,
declared in this manner to you, when I want to conceal it.
One thing above all things in this world I wish to know,
and only one person of your acquaintance can solve me
that, or guess my meaning. But adieu to this till happier
times, if I ever shall see them ... I dare believe you are as
happy as you say. I wish I was happy also. Mirth, good
humour, ease of mind, and what else? cannot fail to
render you so and consummate your wishes. . . . 4
And so for the first time in his life, Washington had
said what he needed to have said, and he had asked
directly the question which had haunted him for ten
years: 'Do you love me?" Sally Fairfax was not of-
fended; on the contrary, she answered the letter by
return mail but she did not answer the question.
And Washington wrote again on September 25:
Do we still misunderstand the true meaning of each
other's letters? I think it must appear so, though I would
feign hope the contrary as I cannot speak plainer without
but Til say no more and leave you to guess the rest. 4 . . .
Having declared his love to Mrs. Fairfax (12-25
September) 3 George Washington married Martha
Custis, January 6, 1759.
AT HOME 137
Then all four, Sally Fairfax, George Washington,
Martha Washington, and George Fairfax, began liv-
ing side by side. The lives of George Washington and
Martha Custis from now on were inseparably bound
together, but Sally Fairfax was mistress of his heart
so completely that he could not even want to resist
her. George Fairfax and Martha Washington, who
knew everything, were determined to know nothing,
as long as their lives were lived with comfort and
distinction.
The couple of Mount Vernon and the couple of
Belvoir were close and ideal neighbours. 5 Their inti-
macy was frank and free. Not a week passed without
their visiting each other- George Washington at first
went alone, but he avoided staying the night at
Belvoir; he would visit and dine, and then, at a late
hour, would ride back home over the fields which
separated the two estates. Gradually he formed the
habit of taking Martha with him to Belvoir. Finally,
the whole family went visiting there together, they
would stay there, they would take the children there
and as the years passed, Washington often spent the
night at Belvoir with Martha.
Sally and Martha became great friends. Both were
queens of their respective domains, and they ex-
changed good services just as did their husbands.
George Washington took care of George Fairfax's
mare during his absence (the mare died); Martha
Washington lent Sally Fairfax her Holland quilts or
else they would exchange salt pork, little casks of port
wine, and white earthenware chamber pots. But
what they did more as time went on, and they all grew
138 GEORGE WASHINGTON
richer, was to go hunting together, galloping over the
vast fields of Virginia accompanied by a band of
friends and neighbours, the Triplets, Magowans,
Colvills, Alexanders, Poseys; these hunts always
wound up with enormous dinners of all sorts of good
food, and were as gay as they were fatiguing.
They lived their lives as George Washington had
indicated he wanted them to be lived, in his letter to
Sally Fairfax in 1755. They lived this life freshened
by a thousand of these 'tender passages,' which give
lovers the certainty of being loved, and ruled by
'Destiny which has control of our action not to be
resisted by the strongest efforts of Human Nature/
There was nothing there for the world to see and
nothing there for it to understand.
George Washington was rich, important, and re-
spected; his career in very few years had made him
famous. He had married extraordinarily well and was
considered by everyone to be one of the very great
lords of Virginia. Nevertheless, the word which oc-
curs the most frequently in his diary kept so meti-
culously during these years was alone. He would
travel untiringly from one of his farms to another,
from a gathering of the Burgesses to a meeting of
stockholders, from a watering place to a distant
plantation, moving constantly over this land of Vir-
ginia which he knew so well, and over which he
went always 'alone'; or he would shut himself up
alone in his study to write his interminable business
letters to England or to his comrades-in-arms; or he
would simply remain there alone to think and dream.
He noted in his diary sometimes during a whole week
AT HOME 139
that he had remained at home alone although
Martha Washington was living under the same roof
and in the same house.
Washington armed himself with solitude and silence
against his dangerous delights and wasting sorrow,
'the silence which so often speaks more clearly than
eloquence/ The glory and joy of the eighteenth
century was in writing, speaking, and in telling stories;
Voltaire, Rousseau, Franklin, and even Frederick the
Great were more writers than they were men; what
they did is not worth so much as the way they told
what they had accomplished; their words often gave
the sole value to their actions. Washington, on the
contrary, saved his life and enjoyed it only because he
kept it within himself, hidden, concentrated, re-
pressed, inexpressible.
COLONEL WASHINGTON STUDIES SILENCE AND
AGRICULTURE
The learning of silence is not accomplished in a day.
Tormented by the strong emotions which he had to
hide, and harassed by the innumerable trifles to which
he had to attend, Colonel Washington had a hard
time of it in the beginning at Mount Vernon. During
the first few years he was in a constant state of irrita-
tion or indignation. He had nothing but disappoint-
ments and troubles. 6
How long the days of Mount Vernon were! There
was no use galloping along the river-banks or even
the hills; everything was a burden to him, everything
conspired to make his life difficult, men, objects, and
himself. The estate, having been neglected all through
140 GEORGE WASHINGTON
the war, was in unbelievable disorder, while the
climate, damp in winter and dry in summer, was un-
healthy. His health, which had been shattered by
overwork, was poor. He was ill, and believed without
regret, but also without eagerness, for, after all, he
was normal, his life could not last much longer. Be-
side, he had still to take care of Mrs. Washington who
was rather sickly. His overseer, Hardwick, broke his
leg; the darkies had pleurisy in the winter, smallpox
in the spring, mumps in summer; the horses stumbled
and broke their legs, the pigs were thin, the oxen were
not much better, the sheep invaded and destroyed the
newly planted field of peas, the tobacco grew poorly
because of the humidity, while the corn in a drought
dried on the stalks. What he could harvest did not
sell well; his tenants of the upper farms did not know
how to pack tobacco and it arrived spoiled. Washing-
ton had had to buy so many things to install his house-
hold, to house his slaves, to clothe all his people and
himself, to repair his mill, to own a carriage, and en-
large his house that, when the accounts were made up
in 1765, he, one of the richest lords of Virginia, found
himself in debt. 7 Thus what was the good of working,
or of marrying?
He complains of everything. On January I, 1750,
he is violent against a Mr. French who had tried to
deceive him about the price of salt pork, denounces
his 'cupidity/ but he finally patches up his quarrel
with him, for they could not live at Mount Vernon
without salt pork; on the 3d and 6th he quarrels with
an oysterman who comes to install himself on Wash-
ington's private wharf and there conducts himself in-
AT HOME 141
decently; Washington gets upon his high horse and
threatens the fellow for his outrageous behaviour, but
with little success; on January 8, he begins a suit
against John Balladine who in selling him some iron
bars falsifies his weights; on January 28, he finds fault
with his overseer, Stephen, whose son is a good for
nothing, and over whom the father has no control.
Washington tells him some home truths.
To distract himself from all these annoyances, he
goes to a ball at Alexandria on February 15, but there
he only finds new opportunity for sarcasm.
Went to a ball at Alexandria, where Musick and Danc-
ing was the chief entertainement. However in a convenient
Room detachd for the purpose abounded great plenty of
Bread and Butter, some Biscuits with Tea, and Coffee
which the Drinkers of coud not Distinguish from Hot
water sweetned. Be it rememberd that pocket handker-
chiefs servd the purposes of Table Cloths and Napkins and
that no Apologies were made for either.
The Proprietors of this Ball were Messrs. Carlyle, Laurie
and Robt. Wilson. . . .
I shall therefore distinguish this Ball by the Stile and
title of the Bread and Butter Ball. 8
He was deep in his troubles. Does he not have
Clifton, from whom he wished to buy lands, try to
make a tool of him? Washington speaks of him in the
beginning as not being a responsible person, with a
"great love of money/ he then sharpens his tone and
calls him "a thorough pac'd Rascall/ but when he
cannot manage him, as he badly wants the land, he
comes to an understanding with him, to get the better
of those who had wanted to use Clifton against him.
i 4 2 GEORGE WASHINGTON
On March 18, he breaks out against his overseer.
Hard wick, for not having taken care of the horses;
he was 'Rascally* too. On April 9, Doctor Laurie, the
good Doctor Laurie, comes to Mount Vernon to at-
tend to Mrs. Washington. And the Colonel notes in
his diary: 'Doctr. Laurie came here. I may add
Drunk/ The following morning, before bleeding Mrs.
Washington, Doctor Laurie must have had a conver-
sation with Mr. Washington* Whatever happened,
at no time in the future is it ever mentioned that he
comes to Mount Vernon in such a condition. 9
On August 10 and September 28, Washington shuts
himself up in his study to write his business letters to
his agents in London, and he does not mince matters
with them. He complains that his tobacco was being
sold much too cheaply, while, on the contrary, every-
thing he ordered was paid for at extravagant prices
and that, moreover, his orders were not carefully
followed: his purchases were being sent to him in un-
heard-of ways; half the time they did not arrive at all
or arrived spoiled, worthless, or broken. He was not
getting his money's worth.
Life seemed hard and strange to him: men were
nothing but puppets. On January 12, after a long,
rough, and fatiguing trip on horseback he arrived at
Mr. McCrae's to dine there, only to hear the Colonel
Cocke was 'disgusted' with Mount Vernon and had
not wanted to stay to 'see an old Negro there resemb-
ling his own Image/ Washington shrugged his
shoulders.
But he would begin again. Though he saw the
shortcomings of others clearly, he was not blind to his
AT HOME 143
own faults, and he did not want to drag on indulging
his poor health and his indolence. By a powerful
effort of will and the effects of a few visits to Belvoir
he recommenced his former activity. He took up agri-
culture with a vim; it became for him a distraction
and a discipline. It was at once a pastime and a pro-
fession. In his America, farming was as much the
fashion as in Europe where Monsieur Rousseau of
Geneva and Monsieur le Marquis de Mirabeau had
both given agriculture an enormous impetus, one by
his 'discourses' (1751-55), the other by his Triend of
Men' (1755). Agriculture was the thing, and the
greatest men of the time praised it without stint.
Washington began by studying it. Surveyor and
soldier, he was familiar with nature, but he had never
tried to cultivate the soil. Now, in this Virginia, which
had been so hastily colonized and where labor was al-
ways lacking, he wanted to create a productive
plantation. He had a sense of order; he was efficient
and progressive while around him agriculture was in
a miserable state; the surface of the ground was
hardly scratched, it was exhausted by always raising
the same heavy crops of tobacco and corn; everyone
bought as much property as he could, not expecting
to pay for it, and the estates, which were extended
indefinitely, brought in less and less and cost more and
more; no matter, the Virginian gentlemen plunged
happily into debt in London, New York, Philadelphia,
and Williamsburg, they consoled themselves with
lively hunting parties until they came a cropper.
Washington did not lead a different life from the
others, but he was more intelligent about it. His
144 GEORGE WASHINGTON
bitterness at least gave him the advantage of seeing
clearly. He refused to live on illusions and wrote:
Our gazettes afford but too many melancholy proofs of
it in the sales which are daily advertised; the nature of a
Virginia estate being such, that without close application,
it never fails bringing the proprietors in Debt annually,
as Negroes must be clothed and fed, taxes paid, etc. etc.
whether anything is made or not I0
All this was too evident all about him. Almost
all his good neighbours, even the Fairfaxes, were
ruining themselves gradually, not so much through
laziness and stupidity, as by neglect. They knew
neither how to work nor how to keep accounts and
they imperceptibly arrived at a point where they pos-
sessed nothing but a valueless estate. As a matter of
fact it was exceedingly difficult to do anything else,
for the art of keeping accounts in the eighteenth
century, especially in Virginia, was complicated and
exhausting. One seldom knew what one owned,
and never what one owed. The principal product of
the country, tobacco, was negotiated in London,
and all necessary articles came from there. The
market prices of tobacco varied constantly, the trend
generally being downwards; the price of commodities
changed just so often, but their trend was upwards.
Whoever depended on the quoted prices was sure to be
ruined. Furthermore, it was impossible to calculate the
expenses of a plantation. The initial cost of Negroes
was not high they averaged fifty pounds in 1765;
but they were expensive to house, feed, and clothe,
and almost ruinous to have properly watched. Most
of the master's time was spent in just such activity as
AT HOME 145
well as the time of his best overseers. Undoubtedly
the Negroes lived by the soil as well as on it, but in
the great tobacco plantations it often happened
that both wheat and corn had to be bought in quan-
tities to feed the too numerous slaves. The black
and white workmen which were hired from neigh-
bours and elsewhere had to be paid in cash. These
employment contracts of the eighteenth century were
fantastic. The overseer, Turner Crump, was paid
thirty pounds sterling per annum for managing the
six carpenters of Mount Vernon, plus a sixth of the
cost of the work accomplished by his men. William
Powell, who was the overseer for the property of
Washington's mother on the Rappahannock, re-
ceived yearly three hundred and sixty-five pounds
of salt pork, the milk of one cow, and the seventh
part of the annual harvest of wheat, corn, and tobacco
grown on the plantation. He had to provide himself
with his own furniture, buy his own clothes, and
promise to keep 'no horse or other creature on the
Plantation/ The following year, when Powell was
given one or two men more to aid him in his work as
well as five horses, he agreed to a salary of an eighth
part of the season's harvests. 11
Under such conditions, when the largest part of
wages was not paid in money but in provisions, when
tobacco, salt pork, and salt were as good a medium of
exchange as gold or silver, when settlements of ac-
counts were extended over a period of two years,
when in the employment contracts financial clauses
were accompanied by exchanges which were remini-
scent of ancient feudal customs, exact book-keeping
146 GEORGE WASHINGTON
was impossible. The gold standard was not practical.
A rich man could calculate only by guesswork. To
make his ground productive and keep it in good condi-
tion, and avoid sinking into debt, an extreme care and
assiduity were necessary, combined with a great deal
of common-sense. According to Washington himself,
only two qualities could save a farmer: 'leisure... a
competent knowledge of plantation business/ 12
From 1759 to 1774, Washington devoted all his
time to agriculture and neglected nothing that could
aid him. 13 He sent to Europe for all important books
on farming. He read them, made notes and summa-
ries, followed the advice given with exactness and
verified his results by experience. His method was
slow but scientific and sure. The works of Tull,
'Horse-Hoheng Husbandry/ Duhamel du Manceau's
*A Practical Treatise of Husbandry,' *A Farmer's
Complete Guide/ and Home's 'The Gentleman Far-
mer* were books he frequently consulted from 1760 to
1799-
Moreover, they filled his imagination. When he
walked around the country, he meditated not only
upon his tragic and sublime love, but wondered how
his timothy and clover crops were coming on, if the
grain were not still too green for harvesting. He was
interested in manures and experimented with dung
and manure; he noted the relations between stallion
and mare, the more complex intercourse between his
bitches and his dogs or his neighbours' dogs, and filled
his diary with his observations.
In spite of all his efforts, he did not succeed in
making his soil fertile. God had not made it so and
AT HOME 147
nothing could be done about it. But he did the best
he could and managed to make his cultivation profit-
able a success that was almost unique in Virginia.
Without ever being cruel, he obtained an excellent,
carefully calculated result from the work of his Ne-
groes and whites. He divided this labour skilfully,
and, thanks to his authority and practicality, they got
through a lot of work. It sometimes surprised even
him, and when he would see his overseer, Stephen,
toiling painfully in the middle of a field, he would
exclaim in sympathy though generally in a brusque
sarcastic manner. He almost admired him for it, for-
getting that Stephen's master had enough energy for
two and that recently Stephen had received a repri-
mand.
Farming was a real pleasure when he was able to
wrest harvests from the stubborn soil, but in reality
this was not the source of Washington's wealth. At
the most it was the concrete symbol of his fortune. To
be considered rich in Virginia it was necessary to
have money, lands, slaves, houses, and credit. In this
country commercial exchanges were slow and difficult
owing to the lack of currency; money because of its
rarity had become a false standard and there was no
security for the ordinary rich except in many forms of
wealth. Whoever possessed but one of these forms of
wealth was at the mercy of the smallest circumstance.
Washington realized this immediately and prudently
worked to round out his fortune in every way. By
1771, he had increased the extent of Mount Vernon
from 1500 acres to a beautiful estate of 5500 acres,
and at this date he paid taxes for 12,500 acres of
148 GEORGE WASHINGTON
ground In Eastern Virginia, while in the West he
owned almost 25,000 acres. In order to safeguard the
future, he looked for new grounds in Ohio, Florida,
and Pennsylvania. He was cautious and persistent.
He did not neglect anything. In Williamsburg he had
a fine house with six chimneys, he built another at
Alexandria, enlarged Mount Vernon, and erected a
mill. In the beginning he owned a small sailboat; then
he had a schooner built and finally acquired a brigan-
tine. He was an influential member of the company
which was draining the Dismal Swamp; he considered
becoming interested in a foundry in Virginia and he
invested money in England. 14
Everything that he undertook he thoroughly ac-
complished and he superintended everything to the
end. He never allowed himself to get confused. He
was good and generous to his neighbours, but was
careful of lending them large sums of money. He
knew only too well the avalanches of bankruptcies
which resulted from such dealings. His kindness
towards the poor, the orphans, and friends in diffi-
culties was untiring; he never went to see his mother
without leaving her some money or helping her in
some way. He was close to all his numerous family.
He always acted as godfather for the children of his
friends and he paid this honour to the young Ferdi-
nando Fairfax, son of Bryan Fairfax, and to the son of
Mr. Chichester. He undertook the education of young
William Ramsay at Princeton. Upon the death of
Thomas Colvil, he took on the heavy duty of ad-
ministering his estate and liquidating the situation.
When George Fairfax and his wife went back to Eng-
AT HOME 149
land, it was again Washington who had the task of
settling up their whole estate in America. He kept
track of afl his old servants and their families, helping
them when it was necessary. He was kind and gener-
ous to his negroes, and had them well taken care of
when they were ill. On Sundays he would lend them
the big net to go fishing. He superintended their work
closely, and if any of them showed a bad disposition,
he did not hesitate to send him to the slave market at
the Barbadoes. Under his iron rule his little world
grew and prospered. In 1760, he had 49 slaves; in
1770, 87, and in 1774, 135. He now had a solid pro-
perty, but as yet it was not magnificent. His red and
white liveries made a fine effect; his carriage was
gilded, but he had begun by buying a second-hand
coach. He ordered his clothes from London, but he
did not desire lace or ribbons, at most gold buttons
on a plain waistcoat. He always lived the life of an
aristocrat, but he did not begin to hunt assiduously
(hunts included huge receptions and feasts once the
hunting was over) until he had settled all his debts
and after the death of Anna Lee, his sister-in-law,
which relieved him of paying interest on Mount
Vernon. Until 1766, he had struggled upstream and
built up his reserves; after this date he felt secure and
lived at his ease. In 1768, he had a great hunting
season; in 1769, he ordered a fine new coach from
London; he had a full-length portrait of himself exe-
cuted by Peale in 1772; in 1774, he bought a beautiful
brigantine for one hundred and seventy-five pounds
sterling and finished the additions to Mount Vernon.
The well-arranged and ornamented manor house had
150 GEORGE WASHINGTON
a fashionable appearance and life therein followed a
serene course.
Where at first so many pages in his diary were
taken up by his tempers, his difficulties and annoy-
ances with his neighbours, clover, timothy, corn,
tobacco, and hogs finally occupied it altogether. He
noted nothing but the weather, the slow and sure
growth of wheat, the rapid passage of clouds...
Agriculture had taught him to come out of himself, to
be interested in the visible world. The victories he
won over the hard poor soil of Mount Vernon were
sweet. He enjoyed the creative struggle which had
taught him happiness and silence. One day he wrote
in praise of agriculture in these words:
The more I am acquainted with agricultural affairs, the
better I am pleased with them; insomuch that I can no
where find so great satisfaction as in those innocent and
useful pursuits. In indulging these feelings, I am led to re-
flect how much more delightful to an undebauched mind
is the task of making improvements on the earth, than all
the vain glory which can be acquired from ravaging it, by
the uninterrupted career of conquest.
And again he wrote:
I think... that the life of a husbandman is the most
delectable. It is honourable, it is amusing, and with judi-
cious management, it is profitable. To see plants rise from
the earth and flourish by the superior skill and bounty of
the laborer fills a contemplative mind with ideas which are
more easy to be conceived than expressed. 15
AT HOME 151
COLONEL WASHINGTON'S OTHER GREAT LOVE,
POLITICS
As Washington became more peaceful, he began to
enjoy life once more and to interest himself in people.
He kept open house at Mount Vernon, and every
week a stream of visitors arrived there to lunch or
dine or sup or stay the night. Sometimes Washing-
ton's guests would stay two or three days. When-
ever Jacky and Patsy invited their friends to have a
dancing lesson, the old house would be filled with the
laughter of young people. Occasionally Colonel
Washington would give a great reception for the
officers of the frigate Boston which was anchored in
the Potomac. Then, too, every day during the sum-
mer there was neighbourly visiting from manor house
to manor house. Racing was a popular diversion;
there were the local races, races at the capital Wil-
liamsburg and in the big cities near by, Philadelphia
and Annapolis. During the racing season there was the
theatre; and there were beside all kinds of balls and
receptions.
Virginia, in spite of her debts and the low price of
tobacco, became richer and more refined. The Gover-
nor at Williamsburg had a little court about him,
especially when he happened to be a splendid and
debonair nobleman as was Norborne Berkeley, Baron
of Botetourt, or such a wily gallant gentleman as was
James Murray, Earl of Dunmore. The Governors
received the Burgesses and gave banquets for them.
On great occasions there were fireworks, sometimes
marionettes, or they might all go together to see the
waxworks which some itinerant showman was exhibit-
152 GEORGE WASHINGTON
ing to the curious public. The Virginian aristocracy,
which from small beginnings had risen to great
heights, and was now a feudal order, very solidly
established, had a well organized social life. The
constant intermarriages between the families that had
settled in Virginia a century or a century and a half
ago, the Lees, Byrds, Carters, Fairfaxes, Randolphs,
Masons, Bessetts, Carys, and Washingtons resulted
in a sort of social and financial oligarchy, capable of
dominating all the other classes of the population and
managing the Governor. It was the heart of the
colony; outside of it, in Norfolk, there was a group of
merchants established, representing the only middle-
class element in Virginia, and, in the barely colonized
West, where democracy was being born, there was
still a spirit of adventure; but for the rest there were
only tiny towns in the centre of huge plantations, or
great domains where poor people lived without
worries and without rights. They lived in complete
isolation while all pleasures, privileges, duties were for
their masters who kept them under their control.
Of all the ties which bound these gentlemen to-
gether, however, and gave them such a strong homo-
geneity, none was of so much importance as Politics.
Most "Virginians had originally left England because
there was no safety for them there, or because they
disagreed with the majority of the government of the
oaoment, or because they thought they had been
badly treated. They were inclined to be rebels. They
same from various parts of England, and at different
periods and from very separated classes. Their prin-
:ip!es and prejudices were often opposed (the Wash-
AT HOME 153
ingtons were Cavaliers, the Fairfaxes Roundheads) y
and in consequence for a long time they had neither a
definite line of policy nor any concerted action.
The presence of the Indians on their frontiers kept up
their patriotism, while the menacing proximity of the
French, maintained their British, liberal, and Pro-
testant spirit. The chief ambition of the Virginian
aristocracy was to imitate the nobles of England who
had won the praises of all the philosophers because of
their Parliament*
The French and Indian War and the complete
success of England in the New World changed these
conditions. 16 At the very moment that the Virginian
aristocracy realized that they were strong, united,
and sheltered from danger, England no longer seemed
to be an indispensable protector and appeared to be
rather a stepmother. The Virginians realized that the
population of the colony was increasing, the soil be-
coming impoverished and their debts mounting. To
remedy these evils, which menaced them with ruin,
they considered two possibilities, one economic, the
purchase and gradual conquest of the West; the other
financial, the emission of paper money.
For the Virginian aristocracy the acquisition of
the West was little more than a speculation. Few of
these gentlemen had any intention of settling there or
establishing farms there under their own control.
They wished to remain in their manor houses of the
East, but their plan was to purchase lands cheap and
sell them at high prices to immigrants and 'land-
jobbers/ The heavy risks which these speculations
entailed gave them certain claims; and as they chose
154 GEORGE WASHINGTON
what they thought were the best lands, they were
giving some service.
England was not of their opinion. She wanted the
West for her own aggrandizement, not for that of her
colonies. She also feared that dispossessing the In-
dians too rapidly would provoke them beyond endur-
ance. She found these Eastern colonies enough of a
nuisance without adding the doubtful pleasure of in-
creasing and strengthening them. England considered
as was the belief of the period, both of philosophers
and governments, that they were too extensive, that
they served only to depopulate the mother country.
In the face of so many objections, and little realizing
the advantages, the English Government decided to
leave matters as they were and wait for events. By a
proclamation of 1763, it forbade the Governors and
the English colonies of America any colonization be-
yond the Alleghenies.
This proclamation would not have been enforced
very strictly had not the leading merchants of London,
Liverpool, and Glasgow insisted on its observance.
These merchants were not indifferent or inattentive;
they held persistently to their ideas, and the com-
merce of the Mississippi Valley was of capital import-
ance to them, first, because of its enormous capacity
for production (furs) and secondly because of its enor-
mous capacity of absorption (rum and other products
sold to the Indians). Consequently the merchants
did all they could to hinder any colonization of the
West in which they would not have a leading part.
Thus they were in conflict with the Virginian aristo-
cracy and were formidable enemies because of their
AT HOME 155
opulence, their control of the press, the Government,
and the Parliament, which they had the habit of
making do as they pleased, as they did in 1755.
These same merchants from 1760 on, kept up
a quarrel with the Virginians on the subject of paper
money. They had drained the colonies of practically
all the currency by means of their commissions on the
sales of tobacco and by their exportations of manu-
factured products to Virginia; all the colonies owed
them money, but the leading planters were the deep-
est in their debt. These knew of but one way to pay
their taxes or their bills, either borrow money or print
it. The second expedient seemed to them much sim-
pler and more satisfactory. But the English merchant
did not like it at all. These colonial banknotes which
the planters sent to settle their bills meant nothing to
them. They had no confidence in this money, which
depreciated as soon as it was in circulation (the
Virginian pound was twenty-five per cent below its
face value in 1770, thirty-three per cent in 1774), and
demanded that the Government forbid this American
practice. The English Government petitioned by its
subjects, who lived thousands of miles distant and who
did not vote, and by those who lived right at hand
and did vote, decided quite naturally that the latter
were right. The Americans were forbidden to print
paper money.
The Virginian planters whether they went gal-
loping over their impoverished estates or sat in their
studies where the bills accumulated keenly felt the
oppression put over them by the English aristocracy.
And they were all the more irritated because the
156 GEORGE WASHINGTON
English aristocracy from 1760 to 1775 was lavish,
vain, and weak. Intoxicated by its success and in-
fatuated by its importance, the English nobility
wasted its time in useless parliamentary discussions
which led to nowhere and resulted in disorder. Minis-
ters succeeded one another in rapid succession with-
out realizing their policies and sometimes without
even having had the time to formulate one. If a prede-
cessor had taken the trouble to frame one, his succes-
sor was more than apt to reverse all his decisions just
for the pleasure of doing so. The ministers prudently
took no action concerning any important question,
and let them lie dormant. America, with her surly
and mutinous attitude was just such a question, all
they did was to remind her of the suzerainty of the
British Parliament, the incarnation of the British
nobility. 16
The Virginians could only turn to the King, who
was the supreme arbiter and their only hope. Such
was certainly the attitude they took from the very be-
ginning, and which was reflected in the pamphlets,
newspapers, and correspondence of the time. There
was an increasing current of hostility against the
financial and parliamentary English aristocracy, and
there was a profound respect for the King, who was
always spared all the disputes, as the Americans
hoped to use him as an arbiter. The troubles of
America (1763-74) were simply the struggle of two
rival aristocracies, one established in England and
solidly entrenched in its privileges; the other, young,
lively, and anxious to procure the same privileges for
itself. The idea of natural rights which are found
AT HOME 157
constantly in the American writings of this period is
nothing less than a generalization and systematiza-
tion, natural for a philosophic age, of the rights which
the English aristocracy had conquered for them-
selves. By adopting these conception of rights, they
would destroy the British supremacy; to imitate was
to supplant them.
The all-powerful and proud English aristocracy was
drifting aimlessly without a leader; the youthful
Virginian aristocracy was feeling its way, not knowing
where to find its leader. There were orators in plenty,
but no leader as yet. George Washington was in a fair
way to become one.
He had all the requisite qualities. They felt that he
belonged to them ; like the others, he owned enormous
quantities of poor land, and, r like them, he needed
Western domains to regild his coat of arms. Like the
others, he had debts and was looking for a way to
get ready money; like the others, he was a gentleman
who felt keenly the disdain of the fine lords of London,
and resented being exploited by the English mer-
chants.
His superiority made itself felt. He was more cir-
cumspect, more cautious and stronger than the others.
He acted more quickly and to better effect. While the
others were thinking about the West, he had actually
been there and knew the territory which lay the other
side of the mountains. While the others talked of
war and drilled their soldiers, he had fought. He
knew how to manage his estate and people better than
did his neighbours. They could count on him, not
only for useful advice, but for actual aid at a critical
moment. His friends were grateful to him.
158 GEORGE WASHINGTON
But Washington also was feared. No one could
make a fool of him. Among the easy-going gentle-
men of Virginia he was a leader. He had too often, by
his haughty manner and his violence, which struck
cold, put men in their places. No one frightened him.
The carpenter, Askew, cheated on his hours and
days of work. Washington asked him one day if 'he
did not think himself one of the most worthless and
ungrateful fellows that ever lived.../ 17
Captain Posey, his neighbour* tried to induce
him to give security for his debts. Washington wrote
him:
Having received your letter of Wednesday last and to-
day, it appears very clearly to me. . . that you are not only
reduced to the last shift yourself, but are determined to
involve me in a great deal of perplexity and distress on
your account also.
P.S. I have this instant been informed that you have de-
clared you paid me all you owed me except about 20.
Does such disingenuity as this, deserve any favor at my
hands? I think anyone might readily answer for you, no.
Captain Dalton proposed a new way of organizing
the parish of Truro. Washington answered him:
The thought is absurd!' Then he went on to explain
that he believed Dalton to be a thief.
Captain Weggener complained of not having re-
ceived his share in the distribution of lands given
to the veterans of the French and Indian War, under
Washington's direction. Washington sharply re-
torted, reminding Weggener that he had not paid his
share of the expenses; then he added:
I have no power to redress the complaint, even if I had
AT HOME 159
adjudged it reasonable, which in truth I do not, as I have
declared upon this, and shall do upon every other occasion,
when calTd upon.
William Black had signed with Washington a deed
of sale for certain mills and at the last moment he
wished to extract a few more advantages for himself;
Washington wrote:
Is there honor, justice or equity in such kind of pro-
ceedings ? No, sir, there is not, and to cut the matter short,
I have directed Mr. Hill to wait upon you, and before evi-
dence to demand immediate possession of the two Mills.
Colonel Muse complained of having been badly
treated in the distribution of lands to the veterans
and sent a letter to Washington which was far too
insolent to please him. He answered:
Your impertinent letter of the 24th ulto., was delivered
to me yesterday I am not accustomed to receive such
from any man nor would have taken the same language
from you personally, without letting you feel some marks
of my resentment; I would advice you to be cautious in
writing me a second of the same tenour; for though I un-
derstand you were drunk when you did it, yet give me
leave to tell you, that drunkenness is no excuse for rude-
ness; and that, but for your stupidity and sottishness, you
might have known, by attending to the public Gazettes. . .
that you had your full quantity of ten thousand acres of
land allowed you; . . . I wrote to you a few days ago concern-
ing... an easy method of dividing our lands; but since I
find in what temper you are, I am sorry I took the trouble
of mentioning the Land... as I do not think you merit
the least assistance from
G. WASHINGTON 17
One did not answer Colonel Washington. He was
160 GEORGE WASHINGTON
a chief. August 2, 1770, the veterans held a meeting
at Fredericksburg and definitely recognized his lead-
ership by selecting him as their representative, in
order to obtain recognition of their rights from Eng-
land and the Governor of Virginia, and the execu-
tion of an old promise- In February, 1754, at the
beginning of the French and Indian War, Governor
Dinwiddie, following instructions from London, had
promised a gift of two hundred thousand acres of
land to the soldiers and officers who would volunteer
to fight the French.
Since the war, however, there had been only vague
talking of this promise, and the royal proclamation of
1763, closing the West to the Virginians, practically
put an end to the veterans' hopes. They entrusted
Washington with this thankless mission and he set to
work with a will. He insisted about this matter with
Botetourt, entreated Dunmore, and finally won him*
He gathered funds together and spent even more him-
self. He stirred up public opinion, and finally, in spite
of the disapproval of the English government, which
was always getting more and more restive, he ob-
tained his concession. He hastened to have it sur-
veyed, divided and parcelled out. And all the time
this was going on he had to struggle with the ill-will of
the officials who were difficult to satisfy, and with the
carelessness and impatience of the veterans* Never-
theless, he held the respect of them all, and, what was
even better, he succeeded.
He occupied thus a strategic position of prime im-
portance in Virginian politics, since he not only kept
in touch with his comrades-in-arms, but united them
AT HOME 161
in a compact group which he controlled, as they knew
that without him they would obtain neither the con-
cession, nor a good parcel of land in the concession.
Moreover, he managed to break down the artificial
barrier which England had set up, and showed them
the great route to the West at a time when they were
all most anxious to secure lands there, but did not
know how to do so. Having been the military leader
of the Virginian troops during the years of the French
and Indian War, George Washington continued as
their political leader for the next ten years. While
Virginia orators declaimed about the rights of the
colony, he gave the rights definite value.
This important political situation was one outside
of the Virginia Parliament where Washington's be-
ginnings were very small. As in all countries governed
by a parliament, flowery speeches played the pre-
dominant role in the Virginia Assembly, and Colonel
Washington, who lacked the advantages of a scholarly
education, was not able to make fine speeches or de-
bate on natural rights learnedly. A great handicap as,
moreover, it was extremely important to talk bril-
liantly at the House of Burgesses in Virginia because
speech-making was often all the Virginians could do.
They had in vain imitated in order to supplant the
British Parliament. The Ministry remained all pow-
erful, and did not feel obliged to consider their propo-
sitions at all.
Washington was very modest in the beginning.
The first law to which his signature was affixed
treated of a delicate but local matter: *A bill to pre-
serve the Water for the Use of the Inhabitants of the
162 GEORGE WASHINGTON
Town of Winchester, and the limits thereof, by pre-
venting Hogs from running at large therein/ IS
From time to time he was entrusted with a military
matter. And as it was noted that he conducted his
affairs prudently and methodically, and as his social
situation and his influence over the veterans became
more solid, his colleagues had an increasing respect
for him.
He gave an impression of stability. He never failed
to have himself reflected and this at small expense. In
1768, it cost him only twenty-five pounds sterling
twelve shillings; in 1771, twenty-six pounds sterling
three shillings, and in September, 1769, nothing at all.
A man to watch over the ballot box, a ball at the
tavern, a generous supply of cakes and rum and a good
fiddler, combined with the personal popularity of
George Washington, sufficed to assure him of success.
For the modest sums he spent he had a respectable
majority. In the county of Frederic, which he first
represented, he was elected by 505 votes against 400
for George Mason and 294 of Colonel Stephen. At a
later date in Fairfax County (where Mount Vernon
was located), he received 185 votes, J. West received
142 and was elected with him, while Captain Posey
with his 87 votes was defeated.
Washington gave an impression of greatness.
Everyone knew that no one could treat him lightly.
And his manor house at Mount Vernon conferred
special distinction upon him. Admirably situated on
the banks of the Potomac, Mount Vernon was at the
very boundary of the Southern and Central colonies,
not far from Maryland and only a four days' leisurely
AT HOME 163
journey from Philadelphia, which was then the com-
mercial centre of the English colonies. Mount Vernon,
famous for its hospitality, was the favourite stopping-
place for all distinguished travellers and influential
men on their way from the North to the South. Thus
Washington cemented his close relations with the
Governors of Virginia, of Maryland, and of Pennsyl-
vania, who were pleased to welcome him whenever he
chose to visit them. The great gentlemen of Mary-
land, the Carrolls, Calverts, and also the power-
ful merchants of the country, Thomas Ringgold in
particular, as well as the influential personages of
Philadelphia, the Galloways, Aliens, Shippens, Penns,
all visited him and were pleased to have him visit
them. The marriage of his stepson, Jacky Custis,
with Miss Calvert strengthened these connections
and gave him a position which was equalled by few
among the great gentlemen of Virginia. He had been
the military leader whom all the colonies admired, and
now he was a gentleman whose prominent social posi-
tion was the best considered and the most respected
throughout the colonies.
He made his presence felt by being silent, and this
in turn made him much talked about.
A deep seated instinct, which there was no resisting,
compelled the American aristocracy to begin their
struggle for liberation against the British aristocracy.
But the latter, vaguely conscious of danger, con-
stantly shifted its position, avoiding sharp conflicts,
trying to gain time and to baffle the Americans; in-
capable of acting efficaciously, the English aristocracy
tried to prevent the American aristocracy from acting.
164 GEORGE WASHINGTON
And for ten years, from 1764 to 1774, they succeeded
in doing so. They did not stifle this instinct, but they
successively baffled and disarmed the various revo-
lutionary leaders. The Americans complained of the
lack of currency and wished to print paper money;
they were forbidden to do so, but at the same time
they were promised that all the taxes raised in
America would be spent in America. They rose up
against the Stamp Act, claiming that the British
Government had the right to levy external taxes but
not domestic taxes, since they were not represented in
Parliament. The English revoked the Stamp Act and
agreed to levy only importation taxes and customs
duties.
Thus, by 1774, the English Government had made
all the popular American leaders contradict them-
selves. Dickinson, the great Pennsylvanian hero of
1765, had protested against the domestic taxes, but
he agreed to the external taxes, and then, finding him-
self in no position to attack the new measures of the
English Government, he lost the confidence of the
Patriots. John Adams had acted magnificently, but
he was a lawyer, and because he had accepted to
defend the English officers who had fired on the Bos-
ton rioters in 1772, he counted himself as good as lost
in the eyes of the Patriots. Franklin had always
preached, wished, and prepared for gradual emanci-
pation of the colonies, but the intermediary measures
he suggested seemed treason in 1774. Suspicion also
fell on him because he was the Deputy Postmaster of
the Royal Mail for America. Hancock and the other
merchants were considered smugglers rather than
patriots.
AT HOME 165
Washington was the only one without blame or
stain. He had been strictly faithful to his own people
and to the movement which was sweeping the coun-
try. He had not committed himself to any system nor
to any untenable theory. At the time of the diffi-
culties about paper money, he had protested like the
others and he had made known his dissatisfaction to
his London correspondents, not from a theoretical
standpoint, but simply as a fact. During the Stamp
Act trouble, he had acted in exactly the same way as
the Patriots and refused to import any product which
was taxed; this he did neither violently nor submis-
sively; he simply wrote to his agents in London, not
to send him any food liable to the English tax. He
knew very well who was managing matters on the
other side of the water. Washington did not make
many speeches in the House of Burgesses, but he was
one of the most active in the practical politics of the
country. Patrick Henry menaced George III with a
new Cromwell, but Washington, less old-fashioned,
established a solid association of planters in his neigh-
bourhood who systematically reftised to import Eng-
lish goods. He was the leading member of this group
and held a strategic position. He was one of the first
and ablest to undertake the training of 'independent
companies* of farmers and townspeople which began
to form. They did not hear from him stupid words or
extravagant ideas, but they saw him everywhere and
knew all he was doing.
Washington did what they all did, and asked no
questions. Theories were of no value to him. He
found plenty of them in the gazettes and they helped
1 66 GEORGE WASHINGTON
him to this extent that when someone asked him for
his ideas, he referred them to Rind's 'Gazette.' If
someone wanted to know what were his guiding prin-
ciples, he referred them to the 'Gazette/ If someone
asked him for the fundamental reasons of his actions,
he referred them to the 'Gazette/
He was not the theorist of the Revolution but its
born leader. A powerful individual feeling, the reflec-
tion of a collective feeling, gave him good reason for
being certain of his place. He did not try to define the
Revolution; it was his task to guide it.
He had no grudge against the King of whom he
always spoke with deference/ 9 But when he referred
to this conflict, he always mentioned the 'Enemies of
America' and said 'them/ He knew that it was a war
between the same two antagonists. Less involved
than the others, his instinct was more exact and he
was better suited to the time because he had sub-
mitted himself more simply to the movement which
was sweeping on the American people and its aris-
tocracy,
He had none of the moral crises from which Frank-
lin, Dickinson, John Adams, and other revolutionary
leaders suffered. Nor had he any of the Messianic
enthusiasm which Jefferson sometimes professed. He
accepted the Revolution serenely because it was
necessary, legitimate, and conservative. Unless it
took place the Virginian aristocracy was doomed. He
stated as much to his friend Bryan Fairfax:
I am sure I have no new lights to throw upon the sub-
ject, or any other arguments to offer in support of my own
doctrine, than what you have seen; and could only in gen-
AT HOME 167
eral add, that an innate spirit of freedom first told me,
that the measures which administration hath for sometime
been and are now most violently pursuing, are repugnant
to every principle of natural justice; whilst much abler
heads than my own hath fully convinced me, that it is not
only repugnant to natural right but subversive of the laws
and constitution of Great Britain itself, in the establish-
ment of which some of the best blood in the Kingdom hath
been spilt. 30
The revolutionary passion which animated him was
conservative and creative. It had grown in him dur-
ing the years of his hard struggle with himself and of
his concentrated effort on the plantation. It had been
nourished by Sally Fairfax whom he saw acting in the
republican dramas of Addison, and in whom there was
the ancient leaven of the English Whigs, and who had
kept alive in him the pain which had enriched him.
When the Fairfaxes left Belvoir for England and the
country seemed as empty as his heart, when all
Mount Vernon, bewildered by the death of Patsy
Custis, was desolate as a tomb, George Washington
felt a new passion stir within him.
He was certainly the widower of his great love, and
the deserted Belvoir symbolized the definite defeat of
his dearest dream; the fields and hills, the clouds
and the hamlets, the slaves in the fields and the work-
men in the villages (to it all he had given the best of
himself) , all this noble Virginia which remained the
core of his heart, filling him with proud joy. In his
fields 'the cherry buds were a good deal swelPd, and
the white part of them beginning to appear/ when
(March 10, 1775) Colonel Washington took a long
168 GEORGE WASHINGTON
last look over his lands, orchards, and gardens, and
reviewed the Independent Company of Richmond
County which had chosen him as their leader and
which was preparing under his orders c to defend their
King and their country/ 21
Then he left for Philadelphia.
CHAPTER IV
THE DICTATORSHIP OF GENERAL
WASHINGTON
GEORGE WASHINGTON, COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF
TOWARD noon on May 9, 1775, when Colonel Wash-
ington, in his blue and buff uniform with gold but-
tons, entered Philadelphia, attended by his servants
and slaves in livery, disorder was at its height. The
news of the first battle between the Americans and
the Redcoats, the battle of Lexington, was known
since April 25. The popular imagination was inflamed.
Everyone became excited, rushed about and then
went on their way, each in his own direction. The
Americans all wanted a revolution, but each of them
wanted his own particular kind of revolution made to
his order and refused to accept that of his neighbour. 1
They shouted and protested but they spoke
English and felt they were still English; most of them
trusted in the English Parliament to settle their diffi-
culties, because they had had the habit of being proud
of Parliament; for so many years it had seemed to
them to be the chief glory of their time; an admirable
lesson offered by the Anglo-Saxons to the despotic and
corrupt monarchies. How could one doubt its ulti-
mate wisdom?
They grumbled against the Ministers, but the King
retained his popularity. Was he not one of those
170 GEORGE WASHINGTON
Protestant and Hanoverian Whigs who had so ably
led the English against the French and other Papists?
Of course they protested against the decisions of the
Ministry in the name of liberty, but in the name of
'British liberty/
In Pennsylvania, the Patriots and their famous
leader, Franklin, preached resistance, but they had
been advocating a reorganization of the colony under
the direct control of the King for the last fifteen years
and this complete turn-about spoiled their eloquence.
As a party they feared the revolution more than they
hoped from it. The other group, the partisans of the
Penns, were in a better situation to denounce the
Crown, because they had been opposed to it for ten
years, as having departed from its 'tradition/ and it
was impossible for them to really favour a radical
revolution. In Virginia, the gentlemen, in debt, dis-
satisfied at seeing the West closed to them by Eng-
land, irritated by Parliament's insolent attitude, had
by now lost all sympathy for the Government in
London but they were gentlemen and not revolu-
tionary orators. The merchants in the sea-ports,
knowing that their money was tied up in the trade
between America and England, eagerly desired a re-
conciliation. Many of the New York traders and a
good number of the New England merchants shared
this desire. In the North, however, the laws forbid-
ding commerce with the French islands and other
various restrictive measures had become so irksome
that the important merchants had found their way to
the radical party and were subsidizing it. In the New
England towns, the merchants relied on the revolu-
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 171
tionary committees for support, in order to carry on
their smuggling, while the preacher, out of hostility to
the Church of England, upheld them by his eloquence.
The commonality, for whom England represented a
far-away and overbearing aristocracy, a collector of
odious taxes, and a detested recruiting officer, followed
the movement gladly. The measures of repression,
clumsily and feebly enforced by the English authori-
ties, without intimidating them had irritated them*
New England was ripe for a revolt. From 1765 to
1790 there was no change in her state of mind.
From month to month the disorder increased.
Royal officials were seized, tarred and feathered and
then paraded through the streets straddled backwards
on donkeys. The sympathizers with England, and
with the Cabinet, the advocates of moderation, the
lukewarm rich, and the not too generous merchants
were treated in the same way. Little local hatreds
were often gratified. Various groups denounced each
other. The common people, the rabble and adventur-
ers amused themselves enormously, but the rich, the
influential and the sober began to be alarmed.
It was necessary that they should find a definite
line of action which would achieve and limit the revo-
lution, for otherwise it would fail and be a calamity.
In New England the situation was well in hand; the
revolution was to be handled by the town meetings,
a traditional institution, a sort of soviet which the
Yankees had established ever since their arrival in
America and which, under the minister and the
lawyers an4 carefully guided by the merchants'
money, gave the power to a strong practical radical
172 GEORGE WASHINGTON
group capable of maintaining order. Unfortunately,
this institution did not exist in the rest of the country.
In Virginia (except in the sea-ports where the mer-
chants were the leaders) the strongly established
aristocracy could take their place; the gentlemen con-
trolled the colony and could direct a revolution. But
in all the Central and Southern colonies, where social
conditions were still fluid, the population thinly scat-
tered, and the classes competing and ill-defined, chaos
reigned.
It was useless to hope to find a formula which would
unite everyone. Each orator had his own theory to
which he clung passionately, and which the others did
not think worth anything. The great American lead-
ers, to suit the immediate needs of the cause and
by force of circumstances, had, every one of them,
sponsored several doctrines in succession, sometimes
diametrically opposed, in order to struggle against the
'English encroachments/ Otis, Dickinson, Patrick
Henry, Franklin, Samuel and John Adams, all had
been prodigiously eloquent and ingenious, and had
filled the pamphlets and newspapers until no one
knew where they stood. It had to be admitted that
the American Revolution was largely provided with
political and economic themes, theories, and princi-
ples, but had not as yet any doctrine which could be
universally accepted and which was capable of uniting
together the collective will of the people. Whenever
the leaders theorized, they disagreed and were divided.
To the farmers of Connecticut the Revolution was
a means of putting the Pope in his place; they
burned his effigy in the public squares; for the New
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 173
England preachers it was a holy crusade against the
Episcopalian Church; for Hancock and the mer-
chants, it meant the freedom of trade; for Franklin,
it meant tolerance and liberty; for Samuel Adams, it
meant liberty and independence; for Washington, it
meant justice and access to the lands of the West; for
the children, it meant bonfires in the town squares
and processions in the streets. To the impartial ob-
server, the revolution was confused, sound, and in-
choate exaltation.
It was action alone that united all these divergent
impulses; on the whole, the people wished to defend
their possessions and were ready to make great sacri-
fices, not only because of fidelity to their principles,
but also because of the sheer intoxication of this de-
lightful new sensation: American patriotism, which
increased rapidly throughout all the colonies, when
the 'cruelties* inflicted by the English on their conti-
nental brothers became known. From Charleston to
Nan tucket all kind-hearted people felt the same. The
feeling was strong and widespread. It still needed a
rallying centre, a flag.
When Colonel Washington strode through the
streets of Philadelphia his imposing ways, his tall
form in his handsome uniform, followed by his splendid
attendants, attracted a great deal of notice. 2 He went
here, there, and everywhere in the city buying pro-
visions, arms, and munitions for his Virginians; he did
not talk, but quietly purchased and paid. He made a
profound impression. He was seen everywhere; in the
morning and in the afternoon at Congress; in the even-
ing at the Tavern with the merchants, or dining in
i 7 4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
society with Judge Allen, with the famous Doctor
Shippen and at the home of Joseph Shippen, the
Secretary of the Provincial Council, with the ostenta-
tious banker, Morris, or with the well-known lawyer,
Dickinson, with Mayor Fisher, the leading Quakers,
or the richest merchants. He was untiring.
One Sunday morning he appeared at Quaker meet-
ing; in the afternoon he attended the service of the
Church of England; on the Sunday following he went
to hear the morning sermon at the Presbyterian
Church, and attended benediction at the Catholic
Church after lunch. He frequented the taverns where
the New England delegates were lodged; as well as
those where the delegates from Carolina dined. And
going everywhere, wherever he went he gave the same
telling impression of force, resolution, and calm.
He could never be quoted. He had never praised
the King, but on the other hand he had never spoken
ill of him. He had never attacked Parliament, but he
had never asked the people to have confidence in it.
He had never advanced a theory, but had followed his
instinct, which was the popular instinct, and he had
been active. Among all these subtle lawyers, preach-
ers, and merchants he was the only one who had the
habit of facing facts without preconceived opinions.
This was extraordinary. The American Revolution
was neither a lawyer's quarrel, nor a merchant's un-
dertaking, nor a preacher's frenzy, nor a demonstra-
tion in philosophy, in spite of all that has been said of
it; it was the maturing of a profound feeling, which
crystallized itself in George Washington.
He realized this, and to all classes, parties, creeds or
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 175
colonies he held out his hand silently. If this were
politics, one must admit that of all the members of the
Continental Congress who were so busy attacking the
King and quarrelling amongst themselves in 1775,
Washington, although he was in uniform, was the
only one to have an exact political sense.
The ablest politicians deceived themselves. They
were still looking for possible combinations. Even
Franklin despite his wisdom committed this error. He
had returned hostily from England, with an exact and
creative scheme ready to lead the Revolution, and to
avoid the spilling of blood. He wanted the Patriots
to be very firm and active in organizing America, but
at the same time he wanted them to present a definite
plan of conciliation to England. Franklin relied on his
inexhaustible fertility and resourceful genius to make
his plan prevail. It would undoubtedly have pre-
vented war, but he could not make himself heard.
The assembled delegates had an unconquerable dis-
trust and dislike of any intellectual or administrative
formula. They could not accept it. No matter how
large and flexible Franklin's project was, it seemed
only burdensome to them. They turned spontane-
ously away from it.
And they turned toward the corner near the door
where Colonel Washington was standing silent.
The delegates of New England, especially influ-
enced by John Adams, who was genuinely intuitive,
had Washington named Commander-in-Chief of the
Continental Army. 3 They knew him and they realized
that Virginia, with him at the head of the army,
would join them, and that this would have its effect
176 GEORGE WASHINGTON
upon the rest of the country. They felt that if the
towns of New England and the aristocracy of Vir-
ginia joined in a common cause, the rest of America
would fall in step, as the southernmost and the cen-
tral colonies were leaderless and drifting. The dele-
gates, themselves so talkative, so infatuated with the-
ories and political orations, guessed that his silence
would be the great resource of their country, that his
reserve was their real force.
Washington knew it too. He accepted them and
wrote to Mrs. Washington: 'A kind of destiny has
thrown me upon this service/ 4
He had a sudden desire to weep, but he mounted his
horse instead, and a man on horseback does not weep.
It was thus that George Washington at the age of
forty-three became the Commander-in-Chief of the
United Colonies of the American Continent, June 15,
1775-
He left immediately to join the army.
It was not without some emotion, for he left behind
him his wife, his past, and all his possessions to under-
take an ill-defined and perilous career. He had, for-
tunately, during the last twenty years learned to sub-
due his feelings and to keep any emotion from becom-
ing an obsession. He went on then during this hot
summer of 1775, anxious but firm, and conscious of the
importance and difficulty of his mission. His mind
was open, his will was tense and his reactions flexible,
he was ready to adapt himself to circumstances and
be led by his destiny, while always doing all he could
to succeed in his appointed task as Commander-in-
Chief of the American Army. After so many years of
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 177
confusedly struggling with himself, he felt a need of
combat and movement, he was animated by a desire
to fight and to use his energies. 'I shall feel no pain
from the toil or the danger of the campaign/ he wrote
to his wife, but to his brother he took keen delight in
describing in detail the fine army he was to command
and how much money (Songress was spending on it.
He had always wished for a military career and now
it was actually offered to him. Notwithstanding his
modesty and his disinterestedness he felt a profound
joy at the idea that he was finally to realize his hopes.
This was his only illusion.
From the very beginning he had to occupy himself
with politics.
Congress had chosen him less for his military quali-
ties than for his personal prestige, knowing that the
men would rally around him. They hoped that mat-
ters would be settled without too much fighting. The
Loyalists wanted neither war nor revolution; the
Whigs wanted a revolution, but no war, for they were
very much opposed to the idea of a permanent army.
As Washington travelled through the country, the
people ran out to see him and greet him, the munici-
palities and provincial assemblies, delivered cordial
and respectful speeches in his honour or wished him
Godspeed, quick success, and a happy return to ci-
vilian life. The New York Assembly worded their
appreciation neatly:
Confiding in you, Sir . . . we have the most flattering
hopes of success in the glorious struggle for American
liberty, and the fullest assurance, that whenever this im-
portant contest shall be decided by that fondest wish of
178 GEORGE WASHINGTON
each American soul, an accomodation with our mother
country, you will cheerfully resign the important deposit
committed into your hands, and reassume the character
of our worthiest citizen.
Washington answered with beautiful politeness.
May your every wish be realized in the success of Amer-
ica at this important and interesting period; and be as-
sured, that every exertion of my worthy colleagues and my-
self will be equally extended to the reestablishment of
peace and harmony between the mother country and the
colonies, as to the fatal but necessary operation of War,
when we assumed the soldier, we did not lay aside the citi-
zen; and we shall most sincerely rejoice with you in that
happy hour, when the establishment of American liberty,
upon the most firm and solid foundations, shall enable us to
return to our private stations in the bosom of a free, peace-
ful and happy country. 5
He had no intention of imposing himself as a mili-
tary man upon his compatriots; from the beginning he
made this clear to everyone; Congress in Philadelphia
and the colonies all felt the same antipathy for every-
thing military, and the former expressed its feel-
ing in an indirect but effective manner by limiting
the supplies of the army and disposing very slowly of
all the questions which dealt with the war: they did
not want Washington to have too large an army nor
to keep it for too long a time. They proceeded to
watch his movements. Far from resisting, Washington
encouraged this tendency; he was used to the Vir-
ginian oligarchy and found it easier to work in col-
laboration with others than to feel himself completely
responsible for his own decisions. He had received his
rank, commission, and command from Congress; if he
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 179
could teach the country to respect Congress, he would
increase the respect due to himself. And he knew by
an infallible instinct that the victors of this struggle
would be those whose General Staff was the more
active and united; the American aristocracy in oppos-
ing the English aristocracy, would have to be in itself
a closely coordinated body. From the beginning,
Washington kept Congress in touch with all his move-
ments and consulted it on all matters requiring deci-
sions.
He could not have been more deferential if he had
been a general of the Sultan; his daily correspondence
with Congress fills volumes. In writing so extensively
he had the feeling that he was accomplishing what
was expected of him, for he very well knew he had not
been chosen as the best general available (in the eyes
of all Americans, the >est general in 1775 was the
Englishman, Charles Lee, but he could never have
been made commander-in-chief, for he had been born
in England, and was also too completely a military
man; without any political role or any ties to bind him
to the country). Washington, on the contrary, was
especially famous for his defeats, his activity, the
political role he had played since 1759, and his large
fortune. He was the only great American aristocrat
known from Boston to Charleston, who had been seen
wearing a uniform and spending his money liberally.
Congress counted on him to do all that it was neces-
sary to do and nothing more.
Washington found that the New Englanders also
had distrust of military men. 6 The men of the Con-
tinental Army had fought well; but they had no in-
i8o GEORGE WASHINGTON
tention of being considered soldiers. They were fond
of their chief, Artemas Ward, who was a good man; he
had been a student at Harvard, a country store-
keeper, somewhat later a judge, a politician, and
finally a general. They preferred him to anyone else,
but they welcomed Washington friendlily, for they
realized they needed the help of the Virginians to get
the better of the English. Their reception of him
was not enthusiastic; it was polite, deferential, and
cordial. The Yankees made a point of giving the
ceremony an air of real dignity. To achieve this all the
troops were drawn up in battle array, no attention
being paid to the different uniforms or motley cos-
tumes. When the General arrived to take over the
command, he was preceded by 'one and twenty
drummers all especially drilled respecting their duty
and as many fifers beating and playing around the
parade/ 7 The General, mounted on a powerful black
horse advanced among them and they all together then
sang a hymn. When this was over, they went home;
Washington had a glass of Madeira with Ward, and
the men drank a little rum in his honour.
Very few of them took the trouble of noting in their
diaries any account of the ceremony in which they
had just taken part. Some of them merely wrote on
this date, July 3, 1775, 'Nothing new/ although it was
on that day that General Washington had assumed
the command of the American troops.
Washington was too wise to take offence at their at-
titude: beside, he found the reception suitable, and he
was delighted by the novel aspect of New England,
fresh and green in the midst of summer. He was not
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 181
used to seeing so much grass in July, and it pleased his
farmer's heart, and he felt as a soldier it was a presage
of the laurels he counted on gathering. The negligent
ways of the army did not worry him, for he was going
to establish a new discipline and infuse life into his
troops; work and responsibility attracted him* He
immediately began thinking of the uniforms he would
have made for his men, the 'muster rolls' he would
compile, the provisions he would get together, the
discipline he would establish, the manoeuvres he
would engage in. At Philadelphia they didn't want
him to be a commander for too long a time; they
hoped to avoid the cost of a prolonged war, and that
with his fifteen thousand men he would expel the
English victoriously and then return quietly to his
plantation to grow tobacco. It was a simple, reason-
able and economical plan. He meant to follow it.
Unfortunately, Washington did not suit the men of
New England. 8 The old generals were not at all satis-
fied with the appointments and promotions made, to
be sure, at random by Congress in Philadelphia, and
they were not in very good humour. They knew their
ground and their troops, and realizing that any attack
would be costly and would imperil the existence of the
whole army, they did not want to do any attacking.
The soldiers were all good men, interested in the war,
passionate for liberty and ready to shed their blood
for their country; but they were too near their homes
not to return now and again to the farm to see how
the family was getting along, to find out if the cow had
calved or to change their shirts. In camp, they did
their work competently enough, without, however,
182 GEORGE WASHINGTON
showing much respect for their officers, whom they
treated as equals. One day Washington saw a soldier
being shaved by an officer; this upset him very much,
it was abhorrent to a Virginian. He also had to be-
come accustomed to their long and noisy drinking
bouts which were held on every possible occasion, in
season and out. If the weather were too cold, they
had to drink, of course, but it was the same when it
was too hot; and on pay-day the camp was far too
gay. When the English artillery bombarded them and
a cannon ball fell within range, the first man to pick it
up and to throw it back was entitled to a round of
drinks offered by his officer. The men abused this
custom. But it did not hinder them from being pious,
singing hymns, calling Gage a 'crocodile,' and c a
Second Pharaoh/ and invoking the 'God of Israel/
Young and old, poor and rich, they were all alike; the
Harvard students who spent their summers fighting,
but who returned hurriedly to their studies at college
in the autumn, showed the same instincts as the farm-
ers of Roxbury and Medford, who were always ready,
even when on duty in the trenches, to lay down their
muskets and hasten home to milk their cows.
Washington wanted to organize their discipline, but
by the end of a month he had his troops almost in a
state of rebellion.
Washington wanted to train the Yankee officers.
His friend and adviser, Joseph Reed, in Philadelphia,
had to write to him to be careful.
Washington proposed to his staff that they attack
Boston by force, in row-boats, then later on when
winter had come, to make an assault, taking advantage
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 183
of the ice; his staff listened to him politely, but refused
without hesitating.
Washington planned a big offensive campaign; he
sent to Canada an expeditionary force with precise
instructions; it began by being brilliantly successful,
but, being poorly supported by Congress and the New
England colonies, the expedition failed, and ended
piteously, in spite of the heroism of Arnold. 9
Washington wanted at least to form a solid army,
but it dissolved in his hands; he had no ammunition
with which to bombard the English, no tents to cover
his men, no food to sustain them, no uniforms to
clothe them, no money to pay them. He did not even
know how his army was constituted, for he could not
obtain correct lists from his officers. The troops of the
various colonies were jealous of each other. It was im-
possible to succeed in unifying the regiments, to
establish cooperation between them, or to assure any
permanency in the corps of the army. It was a phan-
tom army with powderless cannon, guarding the
shadow of a blockade.
But the British army on the other side of the
trenches was also a phantom army, obsessed by in-
controllable fear, lacking wood, meat, vegetables, re-
enforcements, information, morale, and an energetic
leader as well. In the meanwhile, Washington at
general headquarters trembled, very certain that in
case of a British attack his troops would disband.
Gage, and later Howe 10 was trembling in Boston,
fearing that a spirited attack by the Americans would
annihilate his army. Both were right, but as neither
army was in a state to fight, their fears were useless.
i8 4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
The British, terrified by the rigorous winter, the vast-
ness of the continent they had to conquer, the
strength of the American entrenchments, huddled
closer and closer together in Boston, which they were
preparing to evacuate. The Americans, terrified by
the impregnable positions of the British around
Boston, by the big British cannon, the excellent Brit-
ish discipline, the innumerable shining ships off the
coast, cowered in their trenches, shivering in the
blasts of the bitter North.
Thus the winter passed. When spring came, Howe
left Boston, with his troops and baggage, and as many
Loyalists as he could take along. Washington entered
the city, as proud of having accomplished his mission
as he was disappointed at having been only a police-
man when he had counted upon being a general.
He did not understand very well what had hap-
pened, nor why it had happened, but he had finished
his apprenticeship of the Yankee character; he had a
more complete conception of what 'America* was and
he knew New England, that curious land where the
grass was green throughout the summer, where the
soldiers were ready to fight and die, but refused to be
sentinels, and alternately drank rum and praised God.
Heaven had granted him success, but not victory.
His only activity in camp had been politics and or-
ganization. All his military efforts had ended in dis-
appointment. In leaving Boston for New York he was
at last to have a real war. 11
New York, it was believed, would be chosen by the
British as their next objective. Located in the centre
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 185
of the colonies admirably situated and easily attacked
by sea and offering an excellent base for a fleet. New
York would necessarily attract them especially
since it was filled with Tories. Once established on the
Hudson, the British could intercept communications
between the South and the North, menace Philadel-
phia, harass New England and Virginia, control all
coastal navigation and organize the political rally to
England. Washington thought that the loss of New
York would mean the end of the Revolution.
They were of the same opinion in Philadelphia,
and Congress ordered him to save New York; un-
fortunately, this was not easy to do.
The American navy was composed of small priva-
teers and schooners; the army, in spite of all Wash-
ington^ efforts, remained a crowd of incongruous
militia, always in a hurry to return to their homes,
and of regular soldiers engaged for very short terms.
Moreover, New York was teeming with spies; Gover-
nor Tryon, who was fleeing, was a notorious Tory, as
was also the Mayor of New York, David Matthews;
the high society of the city, the merchants, lawyers,
and Anglican clergy did not like Congress; the people
themselves, sailors, farmers of Long Island and
Haarlem, were very lukewarm to the 'rebel* cause.
The devotion of the Committee of Public Safety and
other patriotic organizations to it was feeble. All sorts
of intrigues, impossible to control, were hatched on
the docks, in smoky taverns, or in the isolated inns in
the countryside.
However, they would all have to be steadfast if the
Americans wanted to hold New York and preserve
i86 GEORGE WASHINGTON
their liberty, and Washington, knowing the danger of
losing both, repeatedly asked for help from Congress,
from the neighbouring colonies and from the Patriots
of the region. In May, he even went to Philadelphia
to prepare his campaign in agreement with Congress
and to obtain from it the means to do battle.
Washington came to Philadelphia in a very different
frame of mind than he had been in June 1775. His
long association with the Yankee revolutionaries had
opened his eyes to the real character of the Revolu-
tion. He was no longer content to criticize the Min-
istry in London and demand justice for America. He
wanted independence, and he attacked the King. He
had learned long ago in Virginia that there was an
American aristocracy, distinct from the British aris-
tocracy, and now his experience in the army, the con-
tact with his troops and with the Patriots of Massa-
chusetts, had made him realize that there was an
American people distinct from the British people. In
camp outside Boston, he had come to realize that there
was an "American nation/
He had lost his respect and affection for the King.
Until April, 1776, Washington claimed he was fight-
ing the "ministerial troops,' but after this date he
fought against 'the King's soldiers.' He had read the
King's speech at the opening of Parliament (No-
vember, 1775), in which George Ill-had violently taken
side with his Parliament against his American sub-
jects. Washington had always considered that only
the King could reconcile the two countries and serve
as arbiter, but now the King was changed, and, in-
stead of being a judge, had become an advocate; he
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 187
had taken the part of the British aristocracy against
the American aristocracy, and so there was no longer
any hope in him, and the only thing to do was to help
the Revolution on its way.
Washington turned against George III the more
violently because George III had been his last hope.
It was certain that without a clear rallying cry the
war could not go on. A political system would have to
be organized if the army and resources were kept up,
and to organize such a system, a definite program was
necessary. Congress, which could not furnish him
with an army and ammunition, could give him at least
a political weapon which would enable him to keep his
army together and to secure ammunition.
The Declaration of Independence was much less a
proclamation than it was just a weapon of war* Under
the leadership of the noble and popular Lord Howe,
and his brother, Sir William Howe, the British navy
was approaching New York, thirty battleships and
four hundred convoys laden with thirty-two thousand
soldiers, ten thousand sailors, twelve hundred cannon,
minted gold and promises of pardon. All the Tories,
from Philadelphia to New York, in spite of the perse-
cutions they had suffered, plucked up courage; in
Philadelphia, the majority of Congress hesitated; in
New York^JWashington had, with much trouble,
gathered together a motley army of twenty thousand
men, but he could hardly rely upon it; a conspiracy,
which included members of Washington's bodyguard,
had threatened his life. When the warships of the
British navy cast anchor in the Hudson, just opposite
the city, the end of the war seemed clearly in sight*
188 GEORGE WASHINGTON
It was in haste then that the radical members of
Congress, the Northern Yankees and the aristocratic
philosophers of Virginia, supported by Franklin and
the Committee of Public Safety of Philadelphia,
which had just forcibly taken over the control of that
city, aroused by Washington's courage and need,
wrote, amended, and published the Declaration of
Independence. This violent and passionate document,
intentionally incomplete, unjust in its logic, heroic in
its daring, and prophetic in its solemnity, destroyed
all possibility of retreating* It established an Ameri-
can nation, concrete and definite, opposed to Howe*
All the country, the towns, congress, and the army
were in confusion, but the writers of the Declaration
had thrown a clear and striking idea into the midst of
an excitable people. It crystallized their thoughts.
All other solutions now seemed idle, and Sir William
Howe, 10 who had come to make war at the same time
that he was seeking an understanding, to pacify the
people by intimidating them, and to reorganize the
country without a definite plan of action, seemed as
uselss and futile as a driveling old woman. Not that
he was stupid; he was lacking in neither skill, nor
courage, nor sympathy for the Americans; but he re-
presented a majority in Parliament which was blind
and which had lost all its political sense. He had been
instructed to make war on the Americans but without
injuring them, to bring them back without yielding to
them, and to buy their leaders without giving them
what they wanted. He found himself opposed by the
courageous few, who had been united by danger and
by a watchword which was sweeping the country.
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 189
The political sense of Franklin, of Adams, and of
Washington saved the American nation.
The situation was strange. Howe and Washington
were face to face and were ready; Howe had an excel-
lent army, but no political strength; Washington had
an unreliable army but he was armed with an admir-
able political weapon. Howe was certain of winning
the war, but it would be almost impossible for him to
organize the country for peace; Washington had every
possibility of carrying his country with him and of
being beaten.
To Howe's keen regret, he was made to fight. Both
Howe and his family had been popular in America; he
was a Whig politician, what he hoped to become was
the pacifier and proconsul of America, not its con-
queror. He did not think very highly of the Tories
who were his allies; his heart went out to Franklin and
the other Patriots. And so he tried, by every means
possible to bring about a reconciliation, but Congress
refused. He resigned himself to beginning an offen-
sive; but he clearly saw that every blow aimed at his
enemy strengthened its army, and stimulated the na-
tional anti-English feeling in a country, which had
been hesitant. He tried to keep the war from being
destructive. He wished to avoid any pillage on the
part of his troops, or that any towns should be set on
fire by his cannon ; he was careful to exchange prison-
ers as soon as it was possible to do so and to induce
those whom he could win to aid the British cause (as
was the case with Sullivan and Charles Lee); he
returned personal letters addressed to Washington
which had been captured or which his spies had se-
190 GEORGE WASHINGTON
cured; he slowed up his operations so as to give the
Americans time to reflect. In a word, he acted as a
perfect man of the world and a conciliatory politician.
He was not a bad general; whenever he set out to
fight, he was victorious. In spite of Washington,
Howe disembarked; he beat the American troops
at Long Island and captured three generals, three
colonels, four lieutenant colonels, sixty-four officers
and ten hundred and six soldiers. He took New York,
sent his ships down the Hudson and seized the Ameri-
can forts which protected this river. He landed in
New Jersey, he obliged Washington to retreat hastily
over the Delaware, in three and a half months he had
reestablished the King's power over the whole of the
Central colonies (August 25 to December 10, I77 6 )-
Howe not only succeeded in forcing Washington to
retreat, but took from him men, officers, generals,
cannon, and large stores of provisions, as well as de-
stroying almost all his reserves and bases; all this
damaged Washington's prestige and authority, to say
nothing of blasting his hopes. It was a well-conducted
campaign.
Washington had predicted that if New York were
lost, the American cause was lost. 11 In December,
New York was occupied by the British, and the real
war for which he had longed, ended in disaster.
Washington had lost everything but his unconquer-
able tenacity.
With an army of militia and recruits, which were
changed every six months, it was impossible to
struggle against the finest army of regulars in the
world. Every pitched battle was lost before it was
BATTLE -FIELDS
OFTHE
AMERICAN HEVOIJUTION
AND
"U)ASHINGTON$ HEADQUARTERS
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 191
fought. Washington had no illusions on this subject
and wrote about it in his letters with a violence which
sometimes bordered on frenzy. Any genius less great
than his would have abandoned the struggle without
waiting any longer. But he was used to hoping
against hope, his will never yielded, and his perfectly
lucid mind showed him not only the reasons for his de-
feats but also the elements of a possible victory.
Poorly trained soldiers and insufficient ammunition
put him at the mercy of an enemy taking the offensive,
but the enormous extent of the country he knew so
well, the rapidly changing conditions, the climate to
which the English were not accustomed, politics in
which Howe lost his way and which Washington un-
derstood so clearly, gave him once more a real su-
periority.
The farther the British advanced, the more difficult
it was for them to solve the political problem* Howe
had not foreseen the possibility of the Declaration of
Independence and had no alternative solution to offer.
Moreover, he could not possibly have had one, for he
was always forced to wait for the instructions from
London which never came. Americans who were
found within the British lines were forced to swear an
oath of loyalty to the King, and by this means Howe
managed to win individuals to his side, but he was
unable to establish a solid body of adherents. The
farther Howe moved from the coast, his warships and
bases, the more he felt he was lost. His military suc-
cesses served only to bring out his political helpless-
ness, and to show how very precarious the British
domination really was. On the American side, the
i 9 a GEORGE WASHINGTON
men lived poorly and sadly, but they lived; on the
English side, the soldiers camped comfortably and
gaily, but they were only camping. The offensive
which had been so well conducted was sterile.
Washington's retreat, on the contrary, was perfect
in its wisdom. The jealous and suspicious Congress at
first made a sour face at Washington's setbacks, but
as the enemy gained ground, and the position of
Commander-in-Chief became less and less desirable,
Congress more and more wanted that Washington
should hold it. No matter how desperate his situa-
tion, Washington never lost his head; he constantly
kept in touch with Congress by means of almost daily
correspondence, and did not neglect his connections
with civilians. He was pitiless by conviction and in
principle to the Tories, but his generosity to the
Patriots knew no bounds. Even when his money
chest was empty, he always found means to pay his
spies. Even when the enemy pursued closely at his
heels, he always found time to write innumerable let-
ters to the State Governors, to notables of Congress
and Virginia, to his friends in the North and in the
South. Even at moments of the greatest distress when
he was being cruelly attacked on every side by the
Americans, he never turned against his detractors to
avenge himself. And so on December 20, the situation
in Philadelphia seeming hopeless, Congress made him
a sort of military dictator, allowing him complete
freedom of action in the organization and administra-
tion of the army. Thus an understanding and a col-
laboration between the two essential institutions of the
national American life were solidly established. It was
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 193
also fortunate for the United States, that Washing-
ton's great rival, Charles Lee, was captured by the
English (December, 1776). Lee thus lost most of his
prestige and all possibility of supplanting his leader.
The leadership of the army was now undivided and
the army was more manageable. The soldiers com-
menced to appreciate the value of their general, and
after he had led them through two victorious skir-
mishes (Trenton, December 26, nine hundred prison-
ers; Princeton, January 4, four hundred prisoners),
they were really 'his' soldiers. These fights were only
small successes, but they galvanized the troops, im-
pressed the civilians, and intimidated Howe. Though
the latter had won a series of pitched battles, had
captured New York, the best Harbor in America, and
a chain of forts, he had really accomplished nothing.
Washington, by leading two surprise attacks, had
electrified the country.
He made the most of his advantages; during the
winter and spring, when military operations were sus-
pended, he kept up an enormous correspondence with
Congress, the State Governors, with Franklin in
France, with influential men in various parts of the
country, and with his officers, trying to maintain their
interest in the army and to secure reinforcements.
He failed in a number of cases; he could not prevent
Congress from making untimely nominations and
promotions and discontenting the best of his general
officers; he could not influence Congress to pass the
necessary laws for recruiting and organizing an army;
he was unable to quiet their suspicions and their bit-
terness concerning himself; he could not appease the
i 94 GEORGE WASHINGTON
jealousy which divided the Northern and Southern
troops; but by his activity, by being constantly pre-
sent where he was needed, by the habit he had of never
neglecting practical details the color of uniforms,
the pay of chaplains, the swords of prisoner officers
by seeing everything just as it was, he kept a sane,
clear vision for all the Americans, and made a strong
bond between the various States, and between the
civilians and the army. Congress and Washington,
united in spite of their disagreements, were the soul of
the nation, whereas Howe was the leader of a conquer-
ing army, thousands of miles away from its King and
Government.
In the spring Washington gathered the fruits of
his labour. His army was in a deplorable state, his
provisions low, his generals embittered and nerv-
ous, but they decided to stay with him to the end,
they knew what their goal was, and, grumbling all the
while, they wanted to win it. They had a definite plan
of action. Howe with all his fine army, abundant
stores, ample credits, which the Crown allowed him,
felt more perplexed than ever. The connection be-
tween him and London was a fiction, while his rela-
tions with the armies of Canada (Burgoyne and
Carleton) were practically non-existent. Lord George
Germain, the Secretary of State for the Colonies, an
imperious and careless leader, had no plans; having
complete confidence in Howe, he gracefully accepted
the general's plans for the occupation of Philadelphia;
but he also approved the plan of General Burgoyne,
the brilliant favourite of London, who wanted to cut
the colonies in two by taking his army down the
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 195
Hudson from Canada. Lord George Germain liked
both these ideas without noticing that they opposed
each other. He pleasantly advised the two generals to
come to some agreement over their diverging plans.
Howe, courteous gentleman that he was, promised to
do so, adding at the same time he would not change his
plans one iota. Burgoyne started off on his great ad-
venture counting on the cooperation of Howe who
had not promised him anything and who was not his
subordinate. And, under the placid eye of the British
Minister of War, a British army was coming down the
Hudson from Canada to New York to join another
British army, which had, in the mean time, already
left for the South. 12
The American generals found the plan very dis-
concerting. It would also seem to have disconcerted
Destiny, which until now had seemed ready to give
the victory to the British. At least it upset calcula-
tions. The British, with their generals, their troops,
their munitions, and provisions, had only to choose an
objective, for they were sure of reaching it; no Ameri-
can army could stand up against them in a pitched
battle. Half of the country was dissatisfied with
Congress and was only waiting for a sign to revolt
against the new Government in favour of the old.
The British, nevertheless, had to prove that they were
the stronger, and had to offer a solution of the politi-
cal problem. But instead of choosing one objective,
Howe and Burgoyne chose two; Howe wanted to inti-
midate the Americans by occupying their capital,
where he hoped to be able to make peace with Con-
gress; Burgoyne wanted to encircle and isolate New
196 GEORGE WASHINGTON
England, the cradle of the Revolution. Both of these
plans were good, and had they been followed singly,
were certain of success; followed simultaneously,
there was the serious danger of dispersing the British
forces over an immense territory and transforming a
war against the American army into a war against
space. This would give the Americans a chance.
Moreover, neither Howe nor Burgoyne knew how to
establish contact between their soldiers and the people.
They had spies, satellites, even partisans, but no real
friends. They allowed the Loyalist party to weaken
and to stagnate. They took none of the advantages
they could have obtained from the numerous persons
of note who were on their side. If their imagination
was fertile on the subject of military plans, it was
sterile concerning politics.
In the midst of all this, Washington was discon-
certed, worried, and calm. When he saw Howe leave
with all his army, he rightly thought that he had gone
to join Burgoyne, and he feared once more that the
future of America was compromised. When he heard
that the fleet was sailing to the North, he thought a
bold offensive on Boston was being planned; when he
was told that the fleet had headed for the South, he
thought that Charleston would be attacked. Then,
when he learned that the fleet had been seen in the
Chesapeake, he realized, without understanding why,
that Philadelphia was the objective of the British. He
prepared to defend the city.
Philadelphia was attacked and taken without any
difficulty. ' Howe even succeeded in beating Washing-
ton and routing his army twice, first on the Brandy-
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 197
wine where the victory was decisive, then at German-
town where the battle was more evenly fought. The
American recruits and militia could not stand up
against the British veterans and trained Hessians in
an open fight. Washington knew it. He took his de-
feat patiently. He spent his time harassing the Brit-
ish and keeping his army together* Washington was
no longer the young colonel of former days, who was
fond of hearing the bullets whistle by and whose
supreme joy was to conquer. He realized now how
vain mere victories were, and how valuable defeats
could be when proper use was made of them.
The success of his colleague, Gates, who, having
been aided by space and the climate, had forced
Burgoyne to capitulate at Saratoga, neutralized the
success of Howe, who occupied Philadelphia in
September, 1777. Moreover, Howe's political in-
activity, now that he held the capital, made a deplor-
able impression. It was clear to everyone that he had
nothing to suggest, nothing to propose, nothing to do.
The Loyalists were distressed, the lukewarm partisans
were cynical, the Patriots clenched their teeth, and
across the sea, the French followed the revolutionary
events eagerly. It was the climax of the conflict.
Washington felt it and did what was needed.
He temporized. By keeping his army together and
remaining faithful to the unmanageable Congress, he
had ensured a political victory without a military
triumph.
i 9 8 GEORGE WASHINGTON
GENERAL WASHINGTON PRACTISES THE ART
OF WAITING
From this time on, the American Revolution was as
good as ended. The King of England held New York
and Philadelphia (winter, 1777-78), but with neither
any American Government or any American life in
these two cities, formerly so rich and powerful.
Congress, wandering from place to place, was the
American Government. In only the towns and open
country which had escaped the British occupation was
there any American life. Thanks to the increased
commerce with France and the neutral countries, the
harbors had once more become active.
The war continued. Nevertheless, it would have to
end. The British generals, dull-minded and obedient
to their orders, had not yet realized that everything
was lost. They could rightly say that this did not con-
cern them. As military men they felt and knew that
America could be easily conquered. This view of the
situation was militarily correct, but of what use was it
to conquer if they could not impose their will on the
defeated? For four years the American armies were
continuously beaten as the following list proves:
orderly and successful retreat of the British army un-
der Sir Henry Clinton from Philadelphia to New York,
in spite of Washington's attack at Monmouth (June
28, 1777), which had no result; repulse of the French
and Americans at Newport in August, 1778; capture
of Savannah and the whole of Georgia by the British
(winter, 1778-79); British occupation of the larger
part of South Carolina (winter, 1778-79); destruction
of Norfolk and Portsmouth in Virginia by the British
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 199
fleet (May, 1779); British raids in Connecticut; Loyal-
ist and Indian raids in Pennsylvania and in New York;
repulse of the French and Americans before Savannah
(October 9, 1779); capture of Charleston by the Brit-
ish; capitulation of General Lincoln with six thousand
men (May, 1780); occupation of South Carolina by
the British; British cavalry raids in the Carolinas;
success of Tarleton at Waxhaw; brilliant victory of
Lord Rawdon over Gates at Camden, South Carolina
(August 1 6, 1780); victory of Cornwallis over Greene
at Guilford Court House (March 15, 1781); Rawdon's
victory over Greene at Camden (March 25, 1781;)
successful expedition of Arnold in Virginia; Tarleton's
bold raids (January-May, 1781); Cornwallis's pur-
suit of LaFayette across Virginia (summer, 1781);
with all these victories the British made no political
advance.
Sir Henry Clinton, Commander-in-Chief from the
summer of 1778 until the end of hostilities, realized
the difficulties of the American war: he understood
that the great enemy was distance; he therefore never
engaged his army in the interior of the country; he was
satisfied in merely sending out detachments which
harassed the enemy and beat them by surprise. Well
supplied from the sea, which they never left far behind
them, these troops ran few risks, for the English had
control of the Ocean, and they succeeded in disorgan-
izing the economic, social and political life of the re-
bellious colonies. This plan of Clinton's was not with-
out practicalness and efficiency, but it was not reason-
able. England, who relied on the Tories and Loyalists,
should have shown herself to America as the defender
200 GEORGE WASHINGTON
of law and order; but her soldiers behaved really more
like pirates, brigands, and bandits. She temporarily
weakened the American Government, but induced the
various social and political bodies, which were for-
merly not in favour of independence, ardently to es-
pouse the American cause.
The results were evident. The South (Georgia,
South and North Carolina), where the English domi-
nated, was in chaos; New England and Virginia (until
1781), which had been the two centres of the Revolu-
tion, remained the two centres of national resistance;
Philadelphia became the capital of America and the
place of exchange for all kinds of political traffic; New
York and its suburbs was still a centre for the Loyal-
ists, although they were becoming less popular there;
they were no longer Loyalists by faith, but by profes-
sion; only those who were paid remained Anglo-
Americans. The British soldiers had come to America
as policemen, but had ended by being thieves, and
they had caused a panic in America which was only
of benefit to the rebel government.
Wherever the Redcoats appeared, the American
people were furious. At the same time, on all sides
there was a tendency to consider that the war was over
and they were surprised that so many efforts and so
much money were still asked of them for a war that was
ended. Washington was never able to gather more
than fifteen thousand men around him at a time, and
he could not count on their stability. Washington
compared his militia to Providence whose plans and
intentions are inscrutable. He said that in order to
keep the men with him : * We shall be obliged to detach
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 201
one half of the army to bring back the other/ and con-
cluded (it is said) with: 'The men with me are too few
to fight, and not enough to run away with >I3
Though vigorous fighters and good soldiers, the
Americans did not have the military spirit.
Finally Washington formed an army, but it was
"his army'; he managed to make it, thanks to the de-
votion of his personal friends and to the aid of foreign-
ers. The disciplining of this army was entrusted to the
Prussian Steuben; the Frenchman, du Portail, per-
fected the engineering corps; the American, Knox, and
the Frenchman, du Coudray, were in charge of the ar-
tillery (which would have been non-exis ten t had French
cannon not been sent regularly); the Frenchman,
Armand (Marquis de la Rourie), trained the cavalry;
the Pole, Pulaski, did good work, the three best lead-
ers of men under Washington were Greene and Wayne,
Americans, and La Fayette, a Frenchman. Thus, he
solidly established his General Staff, but it remained a
picked body in the country. There was no enthusiasm
for the army; the Pennsylvania farmers near Valley
Forge in 1776-77 and those around Morris town in
New Jersey, would have had no qualms in letting the
soldiers die of hunger, freeze in the cold, faint in the
sun, or moulder in the rain. However, they liked the
soldiers well enough when they had money to pay for
their purchases, and they were proud of them when
they were victorious. The rest of the time they did
not give them any thought. The army, which Con-
gress always suspected and often bullied, was Wash-
ington's own creation and his instrument. It belonged
to him body and soul, especially after the dismissal of
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Lee (suspected of treason in 1778) and after Gates was
beaten by Rawdon in 1780. It had but one leader, but
one soul Thanks to Washington the army lived, kept
in touch with the country; it was the only permanent
body among a disorganized and doubting people,
and it came to be the symbol and the instrument of
national unity.
The British generals spread disorder all around
them; Congress existed and worked among a tumul-
tuous and unruly mob; Washington alone was the
personification and exponent of law and order.
The country was deeply grateful to him, and the
people's confidence in him was so great that they
thought it unnecessary to help him. They felt that
this last effort should be made by France. France's en-
try into the War had greatly diminished the zeal that
the Americans had shown, when they had just com-
menced to fight. Their military expenditures in 1777-
78 of 124,000,000 fell in 1779 to $10,000,000; in 1780
to $3,000,000, and to less than $2,000,000 in 1781, the
decisive yean Most Americans thought it absurd to
have hostilities continue with the British; as .Ameri-
cans they found it reasonable that the British, accord-
ing to their tradition, should devote all their time and
resources to overcome the 'hereditary enemy/ In-
deed, more than one American was surprised and hurt
that such was not the case. This idea, which in turn
could .seem displeasing to a Frenchman, was really so
natural that the Minister of the English colonies (Lord
George Germain) from 1778, devoted his efforts to
defending the British West Indies and to attacking
the French West Indies. However, England was too
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 203
deeply engaged in America to change, and a war on
the Continent would have been too costly* France
and England did not enter into serious military
hostilities in Europe. This was deeply regretted by
Congress in Philadelphia, who even made the Minister
of France feel their disappointment.
Such a point of view seemed strange to Europeans
who were used to seeing magnificent wars and were
fond of the brilliant spectacle. These patriots, who
were heroic when it came to being killed in a corner of
their field, defending their farm, and cows, but who
were firmly determined not to pay the cost of the war,
nor to lead a military life at camp, surprised their
philosophical friends as well as their charming femi-
nine admirers. Franklin tried in vain to explain their
attitude to M. Turgot and Madame Helvetius. 14 He
preferred to talk about Washington.
Washington at least was sublime and comprehensi-
ble. As a gentleman, a good soldier, a general, and an
organizer, he appeared from far off as the Hannibal
or Frederick the Great of the New World. Those who
had caught a glimpse of him, surrounded by his aides-
de-camp, followed by his black slaves, guarded by his
squadron of young Virginians who were all over five
feet four inches in height, could never forget the gran-
deur and serenity of his face, the sunken mouth and
unseeing gaze. They looked up to him as to a God.
No doubt they were right. For four years, with the
exception of a few rear-guard or outpost skirmishes,
he had had to be satisfied with commanding a passive
army in face of an inactive enemy, but Washington
had never for a moment lost his patience nor his habit
204 GEORGE WASHINGTON
of activity. He was cruelly and unjustly attacked in
Congress in 1777 and 1778; Conway was appointed
general against his will, and they considered replacing
him by Gates. Washington did not permit himself to
recriminate against Congress and if he put his enemies
in their place it was by his serenity and his stern mo-
deration. He had been untiring in reorganizing his
troops, just as he had done between 1753 and 1759?
and had formed them into an army which as con-
stantly dissolved like sugar in water. Not giving him-
self a moment's respite, he kept up a political connec-
tion with Congress, with the States, with the notables
of various regions, with the financiers, and even with
foreign countries. He had direct connections with
France through Franklin, La Fayette, and the French
Ministers in Philadelphia who had visited him in his
camp. In this way, he secured subsidies, an army and
a navy for America. He also gained for himself, and
this without intentions, a position of moral authority
which made it impossible henceforth for Congress to
remove him. In all these relations he practised the
same exactitude which characterized him in all his
efforts and activities. In former times, he had noted
the days when he ought to plant clover and timothy;
now he noted, with the aid of La Fayette, the exact
rank and social position of each distinguished officer
of the French army, in order to be able to treat them
suitably, according to their rank. Being an aristocrat,
he got along quite naturally with aristocrats. He had
more trouble in understanding Rochambeau and
could not hide his annoyance at the French general's
officious disposition; but the straightforwardness of
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 205
the old soldier and his admirable military gifts made
Washington appreciate him, and they worked har-
moniously together.
From his Headquarters in Morristown, Washing-
ton, attended by his young aides-de-camp, over-
whelmed all America and Europe with his correspond-
ence, and he kept a close watch around him. At no
time did his sensitive attention weaken; whether the
British became more active or sank deeper into their
apathy, they did not deceive him. He knew that his
first duty was to maintain the American army, the es-
sential but weak weapon of a new people, and that
some day he would have to prove to the British that
the War of Independence was over. He realized he
could not succeed in doing this without France. If
Washington, supported by the Continent, were really
invincible on land, the English, aided by the seas
which they controlled, were invincible all along the
coast. To triumph over them, Washington would
have to secure the mastery of the sea, and for this he
needed the aid of the French navy. (Congress had had
twelve frigates constructed in 1776, but there was only
one left at the end of the war!) He obstinately begged
for a French navy, asking for it through Congress,
through Franklin, through La Fayette, through
Rochambeau, through La Luzerne, and through John
Laurens; he begged for it so hard and so long from
gods and men that finally they gave it to him.
For four years he had proved himself to be an un-
tiring leader, whose concentrated attention, perfect
detachment placed him far above all his contempor-
aries. It is easy for a man to win a battle or to lose it
2o6 GEORGE WASHINGTON
courageously, but it is much greater and far more dif-
ficult to prepare and wait for it without ever losing
sight of it, without making a false move or a gesture
which would have betrayed impatience. Washing-
ton's detachment was not due to indifference, but to an
extraordinary effort of will; he was in a constant state
of tension as is proved by his few but furious out-
bursts of indignation, when, as for instance, at the
Battle of Monmouth General Lee turned traitor, or
when his soldiers deserted him, or when Rochambeau
refused to entertain his cherished plan of attacking
New York. His anger would blaze violently for a
moment, but he would master it immediately and
would keep it hidden forever after. When everyone
else was excited or sleepy, his head was cool, and he
never permitted the inner flame, so alive and burning,
of his ardour to flicker.
When meals were over in the General Headquar-
ters, Washington surrounded by his silent aides-de-
camp, and himself silent, would sit steadily cracking
nuts between his powerful hands, while all looked on
with timorous veneration, admiring the contrast be-
tween his straining rude muscles and his Olympian
gaze, which, unwaveringly fastened itself on space. 15
General Washington was training himself to wait.
THE MILITARY TRIUMPH OF GENERAL
WASHINGTON l6
During the six years General Washington had been
making war he had not succeeded in beating the
British army; he had had fortunate skirmishes; small
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 207
engagements in which he had displayed genius; de-
feats in which he had shown heroism; happy events of
which he had taken advantage; but as a general he
had never won a battle; he knew this very well, and
with all his wisdom, he suffered from it. The only
great American victory had been won by the scatter-
brained Gates and by the passive resistance of space.
In the spring of 178 1, Washington was still the general
whom Fortune had least favoured. All his heroism,
genius, and amazing force of character had been
lavished on the feeding, lodging, disciplining, rebuk-
ing, warming, cleaning, gathering together, and main-
taining of his army, and not allowing them, as they
tended to do, to take their flight as easily as a flock of
sparrows.
He had had all the troubles and anxieties of war
without having experience any of its rough delights,
for which his violent nature longed, and already they
were talking of peace. He knew that everywhere they
were tired of fighting, the better classes were uneasy,
and the common people were beginning to show a
spirit of anarchy. In September, 1780, Washington
discovered the treason of General Arnold, one of his
very best officers, whose heroism and military quali-
ties had been displayed a hundred times on battle-
fields, but who had attempted to sell West Point, the
most important fort of the United States, to Sir Henry
Clinton. In the beginning of January, 1781, the
Pennsylvania troops mutinied, demanding the money
which was owing to them and which they felt was
their due; at the end of January, the New Jersey in-
fantry followed their example, and Washington for a
2o8 GEORGE WASHINGTON
time feared that the contagion would spread through-
out the entire army. The civilians were not worth
much more; the new State of Vermont quarrelled
with Congress and negotiated with the English;
Georgia had a British government; Virginia, cowed by
raids of the British, seemed worn out. The Governor
and the Assembly of Virginia were in flight, the ad-
ministration of the State was overturned, and its
aristocracy, which had always been so energetic, lost
its head and sent calls for help to Washington and to
Congress. Indeed Virginia was one of the two indis-
pensable pillars of the Union. If Virginia were beaten
by the British, the strength of the rebellion would have
been so broken that the British could have successfully
offered their peace. By keeping in America a state of
disorder, they would have prevented the American
nation from forming.
The campaign of 1781 had to be the decisive one.
There had to be such action as would enable the
Central States and the South to have a civil organiza-
tion. Washington proceeded with infinite care to win
the confidence and friendship of all those of whom he
had need: his troops, his generals; Rochambeau and
all the French generals; the Count de la Luzerne and
other French diplomats; the members of Congress and
the State Governors who sent him reinforcements,
provisions, and munitions; various notables, in partic-
ular the banker, R. Morris, who furnished the ready
money necessary for the campaign; the French ad-
mirals, Barras and Grasse, from whom he obtained
all he could get. His aide-de-camp, John Laurens,
now in France was to bring back vessels, food supplies,
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 209
troops, and money. Everything was ready* Washing-
ton decided to strike the great blow which would vin-
dicate his long waiting and which would assure the
definite establishment of the United States: he pre-
pared to attack Clinton in New York.
Toward the middle of June everything was ready.
The French army had arrived, the French navy was
expected, and Washington already had engaged in a
few preliminary skirmishes, when he had once more to
renounce his plan. Sir Henry Clinton had received
a reenforcement of three thousand Hessians, and
Grasse, upon reflecting, refused to join in such a dan-
gerous operation. A military victory slipped from
Washington's grasp.
As usual, he had to turn to his political activities.
Virginia, ravaged by Cornwallis, called for aid;
Grasse was inclined to sail there with his fleet, for it
was not far from his base in the French West Indies,
and Rochambeau cherished the idea of a campaign in
the South. Washington, chagrined, yielded, loyal to
his collaborators and generously patient with his
destiny. 17
On August 14, he abruptly decided to transport the
largest part of his army, and all the French army, to
join La Fayette, who for the past five months had
manoeuvred opposite Cornwallis, succeeding in keep-
ing him in check, tiring his troops and confusing him.
The British general, reluctantly carrying out the
orders of his chief, Clinton, had retreated to the ports
of Yorktown and Gloucester at the mouth of the
James River (August 5-6); here he leisurely fortified
210 GEORGE WASHINGTON
his position and quietly waited for the British navy.
But what was coming toward him was not the British
Navy.
For once, the only time in all the seven years of
fighting, Washington and Fortune were of the same
mind. La Fayette and his troops duly watched over
Cornwallis at Yorktown. Grasse, who was returning
from escorting a large convoy of French merchant
vessels from the West Indies, bound for France, found
a good wind which brought him quickly into the
Chesapeake. He entered on August 30, with a fleet of
six frigates and twenty-eight warships, carrying
thirty-two hundred soldiers under the command of
M. de Saint Simon and nineteen thousand sailors.
He had arrived without any trouble, for Rodney, with
the great British fleet, thought he was still at large in
the Atlantic, protecting the fleet of merchant vessels.
Grasse found La Fayette on the spot with his four
thousand men. Cornwallis in front of them had just
finished establishing himself and his seventy-six
hundred men. He was fairly caught in the trap. The
French admiral, who was eager to conquer and to re-
turn to the West Indies, wanted to attack immedi-
ately and capture Yorktown without delay. La
Fayette, who knew that Washington was on his way
to join them, and who wished to reserve for him this
perfect victory, refused Grasse's proposition. Provi-
dence and the French, even at the risk of allowing
Cornwallis to escape, were polite to Washington.
Washington hurried. By the igth of August, he
had the French army and most of his troops across the
Hudson. On August 30, he was in Philadelphia with
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 211
Rochambeau, and saluted Congress, which was de-
lighted to see the parade of the French divisions.
September 9, he was at Mount Vernon and spent
three days there, resting, and showing his estate to
Rochambeau. During this time the troops had em-
barked and were proceeding by sea from the Chesa-
peake to the James River.
Fate worked for Washington: Graves and the
British squadron at New York wanted to attack
Barras at Newport. But Barras > by chance, had lifted
anchor a few days before Graves was ready and had
come to the mouth of the James River without any
opposition, his eight warships carrying five thousand
sailors, a detachment of soldiers, and an enormous
train of artillery. Graves, not being able to meet
Barras, turned against Grasse, but his squadron, will
power, and intelligence were far inferior to those of
the French admiral. From September 5 to September
10, the two fleets bombarded and pursued each other
until Graves felt he had done his duty, and not wish-
ing to run any further risks, he left Cornwallis to his
unhappy fate and returned to New York for re-
pairs.
Greene, La Fayette, Barras, and Grasse were all by
a miracle together and surrounding Cornwallis, while
the British squadron was being made ready and
Clinton was holding council as was his habit; this he
did very well and carefully, but he was very slow.
Washington had not hoped for so much luck, when he
began his advance, but his untiring patience merited
it, and now that Heaven had been kind, he neglected
nothing to make the most of it.
212 GEORGE WASHINGTON
With extraordinary dispatch, he had led his troops
from New York to Virginia. On September 17, he
boarded the flagship of the French admiral to visit
Grasse. He secured a landing force from him and a
promise of detailed and complete collaboration, pro-
vided everything was over by October 15. He also
obtained his confidence, an even more precious gift.
Then he rejoined La Fayette before York town. On
September 26, all the allied troops had disembarked
and had begun their work. Washington was burning
with impatience, and always anxious lest the French
ships would leave, he wanted to hurry rather than to
think of his good fortune.
On September 30, Cornwallis evacuated his ad-
vance line of entrenchments which were too exposed,
and the allies occupied them immediately.
On the 24th, Clinton had written Cornwallis that
he was holding council and that he would embark
with five thousand men and come to his aid about the
5th of October. Cornwallis answered him the same
evening, expressing his approval and his gratitude.
On October 9, the allies, having set up their can-
non, began the bombardment of Yorktown at three
o'clock in the afternoon. On the loth, Cornwallis re-
ceived a very cordial letter from Clinton telling him
that he was holding a council and that he would em-
bark no doubt about October 12 to come and help
him. Cornwallis answered with perfect courtesy on
the nth, writing that this was very satisfactory and
that moreover he could not hold out much longer.
On October 14, the French and the Americans at-
tacked the advanced earthworks of the British and
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 213
took them at the point of the bayonet. On the I5th,
not having received another letter from Clinton, Corn-
wallis, always courteous, wrote him not to hurry un-
duly, as he would certainly arrive too late: 'The
safety of this place is so precarious that I cannot
recommend that the fleet and army should run great
risque in endeavouring to save us/- l8
On the 1 6th, he tried to save himself by a sally,
which was vigorously met and repulsed. During the
night he embarked one of his divisions on barges in-
tending to cross the river and slip off to the North.
He might have succeeded had not a terrible storm
arisen making the movement impossible. He was
forced to lead his troops back to York town, and on the
1 7th he wrote to Washington: c Sir, I propose a cessa-
tion of hostility for 24 hours... to settle terms for the
surrender of the posts at York and Gloucester/
All night long and all morning the bombardment
had been furious. The British, in their demolished
entrenchment were lacking food and medicines, their
ammunition supply was visibly diminishing, and they
felt that the end was near. At ten o'clock in the
morning one of their drummers mounted an entrench-
ment bearing a white flag, and began to 'beat a parley/
A wave of joy swept over the Ainerican lines, where
the soldiers had already begun to talk confusedly and
eagerly about peace.
Washington received the tenders of Cornwallis with
reserve and discussed them coldly. He was wary of
fortune to the end. He granted the British no un-
necessary delay, and conceded no advantage that he
could refuse. Coldly and calmly without emotion,
2i 4 GEORGE WASHINGTON
he dictated a severe and humiliating capitulation
(October 19, 1781).
At the very moment when Cornwallis yielded,
Clinton, who had stopped writing, had left with
Graves's warships (once more in good condition), but
they did not arrive in time to see the surrender which
took place that day at three o'clock in the afternoon.
The British troops, with unsheathed swords and flags
furled, marched slowly to an English tune (The World
upside down) between the French and American
troops ranged in line; they gave up their weapons, and
then, disarmed, returned to the town, where Corn-
wallis had been detained by a well-timed indisposi-
tion.
The British had lost 353 men (killed and wounded) ;
the French 186; the Americans 88. Some 32,000
Frenchmen (23,000 sailors, 9000 soldiers), 7000 Amer-
icans, and 7600 Britishers had been engaged in the
siege.
Washington had finally succeeded in gaining the
great victory which assured his glory as a general, but
it was not a pitched battle. Yorktown was a siege, as
perfectly handled as if it had been a game of chess.
Once the soldiers had prepared for the battle, they
scarcely had to fight: it was not owing to their bay-
onets that they had triumphed, but to the sturdy soles
of their boots. Destiny had wished to reward Wash-
ington politely for having spent so many years in
training and organizing his army, in establishing
inter-allied cooperation, and harmonizing all the vari-
ous branches of his services. Yorktown was the
triumph of a bold and perfect conception which had
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 215
surmounted the most difficult conditions and had re-
sulted in the most important military victory of the
Revolution with scarcely any bloodshed.
It was the last battle of the War for Independence.
THE MORAL TRIUMPH OF GENERAL WASHINGTON
From one end of the universe to the other, the
American victory aroused enthusiasm, for it was as
important as it was picturesque. To have gathered
two fleets from over the sea and four armies over a
continent, at a certain place at a certain time and to
have obtained a decisive success with little loss was
an achievement which Caesar or Hannibal in all their
glory had never attained. This perfect victory was
all the more striking since it followed a long series of
defeats, and because the British General who had
been trapped was the most brilliant and insolent
and formidable ever seen in the New World. America
exulted, and In Europe, where for four years it had
been customary to believe the American soldiers to be
indifferent and the generals to be inexperienced, the
victory was the most unexpected one of the century.
Washington was universally admired.
He might be modest, but he knew he merited
praise; it was due to insistence that he had obtained a
French army and fleet; to his skill, that he had estab-
lished cooperation with them; to his energy, that he
had, now tactfully, now rashly, maintained order in
his army; to his conciliatory persistence that he had
obtained reinforcements and provisions from the
Governors and Assemblies; to his personal influence
that he had secured the necessary funds from Morris,
216 GEORGE WASHINGTON
the Secretary of the Treasury, as well as barges and
other indispensable resources from rich and notable
people; to his untiring and insistent deference that he
had wakened Congress out of its lethargy. All this
had been done by him and by him alone.
The country vaguely realized this; the troops
realized it clearly. Courageously but without osten-
tation, Washington had always set an example to his
soldiers and was always present among them, even
at the worst moments of the Revolution, at Valley
Forge (1777-78), when the half-naked American army
seemed more like a horde of sick animals, shivering
from cold and hunger, than a band of men. Washing-
ton had always interceded for them with Congress and
the local Assemblies, to obtain food, shelter, and
clothing. Towards the end of July, 1781, when the
Connecticut troops, dissatisfied with their Assembly
(which did not heed their complaints), were about to
disband, Washington stepped in and kept them to-
gether.
Other generals had been brilliant, bold, had known
how to organize attacks cleverly, had led their troops
to death with dash and spirit; they were admired; but
the soldier of all times and of every country thinks
more of his mess and shelter than of glory and death,
and the American soldiers were more attached to
Washington than to Gates, Greene, Wayne, or La
Fayette. He at least looked after their rations, lodg-
ings, and uniforms every day, twelve hours a day.
Washington was their real leader, both in war and
peace.
What did they know of Congress ? Congress refused
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 217
the bounties for enlistments which the soldiers
wanted; refused to pay retired officers half-pay; re-
fused to give the generals the consideration they
thought their due; talked indefinitely about it without
ever succeeding in finding money, not even managing
to keep up the standard of American paper money;
could not succeed in establishing good will between
the colonies Vermont was still quarrelling with New
England, Pennsylvania with New Jersey, while the
North was sharply antagonistic to the South. The
most distinguished members of Congress had left it:
Franklin, Adams, the Lees, and Jay were in Europe;
Henry Laurens was in the Tower of London; Jefferson
was occupied with local politics in Virginia, Hancock
in Massachusetts; a younger generation unknown to
the people filled Congress, and now and again, in an
access of fervour, would forbid dancing, vote a day of
fasting and humiliation, or denounce the army be-
cause of its profane language! Some people thought
that Congress had not asked enough from France;
others thought it treated the French too servilely;
it was badly considered everywhere, but above all in
the army, where the soldiers were bitter about its
innumerable promises, committees, commissions,
speeches, and its short memory. Poorly fed, poorly
paid, poorly lodged, such was the state of this vic-
torious army, which was conscious of having saved
its country and of having assured its future.
The troops were tired and discontented. Even the
peace which was approaching did not please the
soldiers. They realized that the States would be glad
to disband them as soon as possible, without paying or
ai8 GEORGE WASHINGTON
thanking them. The men gathered in secret and
discussed these things heatedly. The officers at their
mess took a decided tone. The generals at their tables
were meditative. Washington seemed deaf and dumb.
It was then that one of the oldest, wisest, and most
dignified of all the colonels (Lewis Nicola) wrote him
proposing a coup d'etat, and if, Washington wished it,
a crown (April, 1782).
Washington answered:
Be assured, Sir, no occurrence in the course of the war
has given me more painful sensations, than your informa-
tion of there being such ideas existing in the army, as you
have expressed, and I must view with abhorrence and re-
prehend with severity... Let me conjure you, then, if you
have any regard for your Country, concern for yourself or
posterity, or respect for me, to banish these thoughts from
your mind, and never communicate, as from yourself or
any one else, a sentiment of like nature. 19
Then, after having his letter countersigned by two
aides-de-camp, he sent it to Nicola. And he remained
silent.
The others kept on talking. They all talked. Not
only the old officers now, whom he had rebuked, but
all the young, ambitious, cunning, bold men who
wanted glory, gold, or a revolution. A plot was
organized. The ringleaders of the plot were two bril-
liant politicians, Alexander Hamilton, a former aide-
de-camp of Washington, and Gouverneur Morris, the
assistant to the Secretary of the Treasury, Robert
Morris, who must have known about the plan. These
two young men did not think much of the government
to which they belonged; they wanted to have a strong
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 219
government established, and to them this meant a
monarchy. Knowing the army was in a state of
exasperation, they wanted to take advantage of this
situation. The two young men made a proposal to
Washington in such a discreet way that he could
understand if he wanted to understand, comment on
it if he wished to, or ignore it just as he preferred,
In the army, both the officers and the soldiers con-
tinued meeting in secret; the officers were especially
disturbed; they insisted on their half-pay and railed
against Congress. General Greene in the South, one
of Washington's most brilliant lieutenants, was quite
as nervous as they. General Knox, who was with
Washington, held himself in readiness to follow any
bold plan. And Gates, no longer in disgrace, but
second to the Commander-in-Chief, would only be too
glad to lead the troops should Washington refuse.
On February 7, 1783, Hamilton wrote to Washing-
ton from Philadelphia that things were going on
badly at Congress, that funds would shortly be
lacking and that the country would soon be faced with
a grave crisis :
If the war continues, it would seem that the army must,
in June, subsist itself, to defend the country. If peace should
take place, it will subsist itself, to procure justice to itself.
And he advised him not to discourage the army; on
the contrary, to take their part with moderation and
guide them and to keep his place as leader so as to
impose on the States a political reorganization which
Congress was too foolish to understand, too weak to
demand, too discredited to obtain. A menace was
added to this suave suggestion:
2ao GEORGE WASHINGTON
An idea is propagated in the army that delicacy, carried
to an extreme, prevents your espousing its interests with
sufficient warmth. The falsehood of this opinion no one
can be better acquainted with than myself, but it is not the
less mischievous for being false. 20
On March 4, Washington answered:
I have often thought, but suppose I thought wrong, as it
did not accord with the practice of Congress, that the pub-
lic interest might be benefited if the Commander in Chief of
the army were let more into the political and pecuniary
state of our affairs than he is. ...
Thus he showed him that he was rather in sym-
pathy with his idea of establishing a strong central
government. But he added that if the army wanted
to secure justice for itself...
...it would at this day be productive of civil commotions
and end in blood. Unhappy situation this! God forbid we
should be involved in it. The predicament, in which I
stand as a citizen and soldier, is as critical and delicate as
can well be conceived. It has been the subject of many
contemplative hours.... Be these things as they may, I
shall pursue the same steady line of conduct, which has
governed me hitherto.
No revolution, no monarchy, no militarism.
Washington further declared that he would intercede
for the army, that he would ask again in Congress that
justice be given to the soldiers, and he concluded by
suggesting that the members of Congress obtain the
means from their respective States for establishing
a strong military force. It was necessary to have a
change of direction in government, but it had to be
civil, not military.
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 221
On March 10, a printed speech was circulated
among the officers which boldly and cleverly invited
them to unite and demand their rights from Congress
and the country. The officers were to hold a meeting
on the morrow. The wording of this pamphlet indi-
cated it had been written in Philadelphia, while its
immediate success gave rise to many fears. ( Gates
studying the features of the men around him thought
that he would win.
He was not right. Washington knew his men and
knew that he would hold them. As soon as he read
this manifesto and its anonymous convocation, he
wrote and circulated a concise statement ordering the
officers to meet on Saturday the I5th at noon under
the chairmanship of Gates. Thus he gained time, dur-
ing which the excitement would partly calm down and
he gave the conspirators the hope of his support and
seemed to be putting Gates at the head of the move-
ment. As a matter of fact, Gates, being obliged to
preside, could not talk or influence the men as he
would have done had he been with the other
officers.
Washington did this himself. At the hour and place
mentioned, he came to the meeting to read a report in
which he spoke to the men of their common glory, of
their services, of all they had suffered, of all that they
had defended and would defend again, and all that
they represented for America and the world. He
promised to plead their cause with Congress and only
asked for their confidence, begging them to act in
such a manner that posterity could say: 'Had this day
been wanting, the world had never seen the last stage
GEORGE WASHINGTON
of perfection to which human nature is capable of
attaining/ 21
Then he disappeared, leaving the officers deeply
moved. Knox and Putnam had no trouble in having
passed a unanimous vote of confidence in the Com-
mander-in-Chief and Congress. As a final measure,
Gates was entrusted with the pleasant duty of carry-
ing a report of this meeting to Washington.
Washington had refused the crown a second time.
Few decisions in history have been more important.
But just because it helped to develop a republic is no
reason to consider it a perfect expression of a demo-
cratic mind.
Washington was an aristocrat. At the same time
that he did all this so nobly, he accepted an invitation
to preside at the organization of the Society of the
Cincinnati, although it had roused the indignation of
all the democrats of Europe and America. It was, of
course, in the beginning, an hereditary association of
Veterans of the War of Independence, a kind of mili-
tary order and charitable institution at the same
time. They would necessarily be important politically
and have a great deal of influence. Washington was
its first president, but Franklin thought this society
was the most serious menace to the republican and
democratic spirit of the New World. 22
Washington did not agree. He respected the
monarchies of Europe. Before the American As-
semblies and the British Parliament had begun their
quarrels, he had been a faithful subject of the King of
England. He was a sincere admirer of the King of
France, and he rejoiced in the fact that France, a
WASHINGTON'S DICTATORSHIP 223
hierarchic nation, with a solid social system, was
closely connected with America. He found this to be
a great advantage. He had practical ideas about the
masses just as he had about Congress. He had no
naive belief in the right of the majority. At the begin-
ning of the Revolution he had not hesitated in follow-
ing the minority which was far in advance of the ma-
jority; he thought it was quite right that the Com-
mittees of Public Safety obliged the people to be
patriotic and he persecuted the Tories without respite
(winter, 1776-77, and all through the war). He was
advanced politically. He knew that Congress did not
represent the direct voice of the people and he knew
that people are often deceived and majorities wrong.
Washington was an aristocrat; he saw clearly that
in America a leader once crowned king by his troops
was dedicated to demagogy and disorder. Morris and
Hamilton, less clairvoyant in politics than he, did not
yet perceive what he already knew: that a national
aristocracy was being formed gradually in Congress
and around Congress, and that he, an aristocrat of
Virginia, did inevitably belong to the nation which
was being created by these leaders.
Fate had given him a victory, but it had not been
his destiny to be a warrior. He now refused Fate's offer
of a military dictatorship and turned to the people, to
his troops which he disbanded (June, 1783), and to the
State Governors, begging them to unite, to give them-
selves a strong central government, to pay their debts
(thus automatically enriching the rich), and to main-
tain a solid and permanent army.
224 GEORGE WASHINGTON
As a soldier, he had been the civil dictator of the
United States for eight years; the one man on whom
the Government depended, the one who alone kept
everything moving together, the one who silently
knew how to establish order and accomplish things,
while Congress merely discussed, voted, and waited.
He had conquered; the United States existed, and
the supreme joy he felt was not free of surprise so
great that it could only be equalled by the fatigue
which overwhelmed him.
He was so weary and so happy that his mind was a
blank. He vaguely contemplated this enormous
country he had created, this nation he had been the
first to know; and for which he had risked his honour,
fortune, and life; it was still unformed, but Washing-
ton even then clearly foresaw its future power and
grandeur.
CHAPTER V
GEORGE WASHINGTON, THE FATHER OF
HIS COUNTRY
IN THE SHADE OF THE LAURELS
WHEN he had disbanded his troops, given his last
words of advice to his country, and his greetings to
Congress, General Washington dreamed of nothing
but of returning to his account books, growing old in
his retreat, and dying with dignity. Without waiting
for anything further to happen, he returned to Mount
Vernon, deserted far too long, to the home which was
his own, almost his very self, and to the heart of
the Virginia aristocracy which had made him and
moulded his life, he established himself there, for the
last time as he thought. He wanted to spend the re-
mainder of his days 'in cultivating the affections of
good men, and in the practice of domestic virtues.'
He did not refuse the last touch of warmth that life
could give, and the glory which had followed him
down to his retreat had an exquisite flavour. Tokens of
admiration were showered upon him; he was the idol
of the people, and the great men of the world paid their
respects to him. Books, sent from the four corners of
the universe, piled up in his library; but more than
anything else, gifts for his garden were sent to him, and
these touched him and transformed Mount Vernon
into a botanical garden and a variegated managery.
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Colonel Jenifer sent him apple trees from Maryland;
Governor Clinton sent lime trees and ivy from New
York; Henry Lee, horse chestnut trees from Virginia;
the Chevalier de La Luzerne sent grapevines from
France; General Lincoln, pines and firs from New
England; Samuel Vaughan offered him rum from
Jamaica; La Fayette, always lavish, sent him golden
pheasants and partridges to brighten his fields, don-
keys for his stables, hounds for coursing (and a pretty
little Masonic apron to wear at the fraternal cere-
monies) ; his brother, John, gave him a swan and wild
geese; Gouverneur Morris, Chinese geese and Chinese
pigs; Mr. Ogle gave him deer to adorn his woods,
Count Williamson foxhounds. Even the noble and
proud King of Spain knew his tastes and sent him,
under the guard of one Pedro Tellez, the most vigor-
ous and magnificent jackass of all Spain. 1
Thus Washington was overwhelmed with gifts and
honours.
He wanted a peaceful existence, he wanted silence
and obscurity; he wanted to live upon his memories.
He liked to gallop in the morning as far as the ruins of
Belvoir which were already disappearing under their
green cloak. In the afternoon, he delighted in taking
long rides across the fields, dreaming of the wonderful
conversations he had had with Sally, or of exciting
battles he had led, and watching his people at their
work, meek, obedient, and happy. He rose at sunrise
and retired about nine o'clock. The only important
event of the day was the dinner, about two o'clock in
the afternoon, when he welcomed all the guests who
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Painted and engraved by Edward Savage
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 227
had stopped over on their travels to greet him: Ameri-
cans, Frenchmen, Italians, Germans, Dutchmen: La
Fayette, Le Marquis de Chappedelaine, Brissot de
Warville, Houdon, M. le Comte Castiglioni, RobeTt
Morris, M. Battaile Muse, Francis Van Der Kemp,
Mazzei, Peale, Noah Webster all came to share his
silence, to venerate his glory.
As a matter of fact, silence had not returned to him.
His life had been too tumultuous and the fever of ten
long years had stayed in his blood. When he awoke in
the morning, he awoke with the start of the strenuous
days that were gone. He no longer wrote in his diary
the peaceful, monotonous sentence, 'Alone all day at
home/ for his days were full of activity and his
duties multiplied. He galloped almost every day
around his whole plantation visiting all his farms. In
winter, he was in a hurry to kill his hogs to salt them,
cut ice in the Potomac and store it in his cellar, to have
the ground graded and fields planted; in the spring-
time, he grafted his fruit trees, fished in the river with
his net; the sowings of spring and fall, spring and
summer plantings, the summer and autumn harvests,
the haymaking in summer, the labours at the end of
the season, allowed him scarcely any time to enlarge
his house, to build barns and sheds, and to go in
October to the races in Alexandria.
After so many months of seeing war and devasta-
tion, he took to planting with passion. He planted
lilacs by the garden wall, orange trees near the door,
dogwood trees and sassafras near the sheds; he filled
his vegetable garden with walnut, pear, apricot,
228 GEORGE WASHINGTON
orange, and cherry trees, Cherokee plums and Span-
ish chestnuts; around the house he planted syringa,
wild thorn, rowan-trees, filbert and crab-apple trees;
along the garden alleys, he planted poplars, maples,
ash, brambles, willows, lindens, all kinds of chestnut
trees, walnut trees, catalpas, magnolias, alder trees,
yew trees; he bordered his flower-beds with holly, and
on the lawns and in the 'wilderness/ he set up cedars,
papaw trees, sassafras, honey locusts, mulberry trees,
black gum trees, and Canadian firs. 2
He planted, but when summer came, the pines were
yellow, the ivy seemed dead, the crab and ash trees
had not even budded, the chestnut trees and lindens
were drooping, the green oak and the firs were little
more than sticks; the garden looked dusty and sickly.
Only the laurels had kept bright and green.
He was a great lord, the richest in America it was
said; in the stables of his principal estate (in 1786), he
had 130 horses, 336 cows, oxen, heifers, calves, and
steers; 283 sheep, and more hogs than he could count;
he had 216 Negroes, not counting his white servants
nor day labourers he hired nor all the people on his
other properties in the cities or in the distant West.
He was constantly enlarging his estate; in 1784, he
again bought six thousand acres on the Mohawk and
his possessions in the West became more and more
valuable. He attended to all the details of his affairs
himself cautiously and carefully; he laid the founda-
tions for much greater wealth in the future. He wanted
to owe nothing to a grateful country; the grants of
lands, which it was intimated they wished to make to
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 229
him, he rejected majestically and with humility. He
wanted only his inheritance and what he himself could
add to it. But he neglected nothing that could add to
his fortune; everyone that invented anything came to
see him and he always listened to them with interest.
He invested heavily in an adventurous undertaking,
the navigation of the Potomac. This was one of his
most cherished ideas, for it was a triple speculation; if
it succeeded, it would enrich the investors; it would
add to the wealth of those who had bought lands in
the West because of the easy access it offered to the
Eastern and European markets; finally, it would re-
sult in a close cooperation between the States, all of
them being interested in the commerce of the West
and obliged to work together in order to benefit by it.
Washington made every effort to induce the capital-
ists and the governments of Virginia and Maryland
to join him; and at first he was successful; but these
were not enough to make his dream possible; the
States of Pennsylvania, Delaware, New Jersey, New
York, and the Carolinas had to join as well. After tak-
ing a great deal of pains and making a great effort, he
did not succeed as the Annapolis Convention ended in
failure. It was in vain that he had visited the Potomac,
examining all the shores carefully, in vain that he had
attended all the stockholders* meetings, written to in-
fluential politicians and pushed the affair in every way
he could, the States could not come to an understand-
ing, and Congress did not know how to force them to
it.
He was not less active but just as unfortunate in an
230 GEORGE WASHINGTON
enterprise which was of prime interest to him: the
colonization of the West. One of his principal griev-
ances against England before the Revolution was the
attitude of the British Government in respect to all
the territory in the interior of America,, which she
would never authorize the Americans to occupy.
Washington did all he could to induce Congress to
take a firm and energetic stand in this matter. He was
eager to acquire vast lands for himself and for his
country; he loved the West and he saw there an abso-
lute security for the future grandeur of America and
the ultimate union of the States. He tried to make all
his friends and all the big politicians realize this: he
himself never lost sight of it, and if it were so difficult
for him to believe that peace was really permanent, if he
continued to have so great an animus against England,
it was much less because of all the Americans killed in
battle than on account of her attitude in refusing to
evacuate the fortified posts in the West in spite of the
promises made in the treaty of peace. This was Wash-
ington's obsession. In September, 1784, he made a
trip to his Ohio lands. He wanted to see how they
were, and to get rid of the squatters who, without his
permission, and not paying him a cent of rent, had
settled on his lands. He travelled uneventfully as far
as the Youghiogheny River, where he inspected his
holdings, there he found the intruders, had an alter-
cation with them and ended up by agreeing with them
that there was no possibility of their coming to terms.
He would have liked to have pushed on farther West
in order to see his lands on the Great Kanawha, but
he was not able to do so, as the Indians were menac-
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 231
ing; and he therefore found it impossible for him to de-
fend his possessions from 'Land Jobbers and Specula-
tors . . . who I had been informed regardless of my legal
and equitable rights, paten ts, &ca. ; had enclosed them
within other Surveys and were offering them for Sale
at Philadelphia and in Europe/ 3 He comforted him-
self, however:
I say notwithstanding this disappointment I am well
pleased with my journey, as it has been the means of my
obtaining a knowledge of facts coming at the temper and
disposition of the Western Inhabitants and making re-
flections thereon, which, otherwise, must have been as
wild, incoherent, or perhaps as foreign from the truth, as
the inconsistency of the reports which I had received even
from those to whom most credit seemed due, generally
were. 4
Back again at Mount Vernon he dreamed.
Life seemed very complicated to him. The more
he knew it, the more did he tend to be prudent. This
was only natural, as he now realized all that was lack-
ing in him. After having associated with the brilliant
young men, who had served under him as aides-de-
camp, and the illustrious gentlemen of Europe, who
had been his comrades-in-arms, he was conscious how
inadequate his education had been. He felt this de-
ficiency even more when he sat down to read the books
which had been recommended to him and which he
forced himself to read conscientiously Raynal's
'History of the West Indies/ for example. He became
fearful faced by the enormous quantity of ideas and
facts which he might undoubtedly learn, perhaps
realize, but which he would never be able to express,
GEORGE WASHINGTON
or explain* Meditative, he retired within himself as
much as he could.
His home always filled with his family, neigh-
bours, friends, foreigners, and distinguished person-
ages from everywhere was no longer a refuge for
him. He had to nurse Martha, who was ailing; to visit
his old mother and his sister, Mrs. Lewis, at Fredericks-
burg, where they were lingering on in failing health;
to weep for his brother, John Augustin, who had died
of a severe attack of gout which had gone to his head;
to assist his nephew, Major George Augustine Wash-
ington, who suffered excruciatingly from gall-stones;
as well as to undertake the care of his nephew's wife,
Fanny, who gave birth to a baby (which died soon
after) at Mount Vernon. Bushrod Washington bom-
barded him with political letters; his two nephews,
George Steptoe and Lawrence, whom he had sent to
school in Georgetown, ran into debt there because
they wanted to be dandies; he changed schools and
sent them to the Reverend Doctor William Browne of
Alexandria, lodging them at the good widow Dade's,
after that at Colonel Samuel Hanson's because the
poor women had been quite unable to manage the
two rascals, so that he could keep a closer watch on
them, which was much needed. The two scamps
would stay out all night. Once under the care of
Colonel Hanson, they refused to allow themselves to
be flogged. When Colonel Hanson whipped Lawrence,
George Steptoe whipped the Colonel. Then they fled
to Mount Vernon, and the General could only repri-
mand them, pacify Hanson, and pay their debts.
With such a bothersome family, and the whole uni-
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 233
verse declaring itself his family into the bargain, what
could George Washington do?
He looked sadly at his table which was heaped with
unanswered letters; and reflected, down-heartedly,
the long days he had spent at his desk without ever
finishing his task; but, worst of all, were the questions,
the innumerable questions, which irritated his weary
mind and which he could neither forget nor answer.
It was in vain that he went galloping over his fields;
they hummed with the confused murmur of the voices
of the world. It was in vain he had retired to Mount
Vernon; his glory had followed him there and had
borne with it troubles of all the world.
GEORGE WASHINGTON, DICTATOR IN SPITE OF
HIMSELF 5
Of all the problems that worried him, the one that
lay the heaviest upon him and irritated him the most
persistently was the question of politics. He had been
forced during the Revolution to act the part of a great
leader and a benevolent dictator, there was no escape.
It was the only way in which he could fulfill his task as
Commander-in-Chief and he accomplished this task
with as much skill as loathing. The political instinct
which was his made him a man of infallible judgment
and who had the greatest hesitation in engaging him-
self in a political career of which he so well knew the
difficulties and the dangers. He was used to living
in his Virginian environment, where he talked with
everybody, rich and poor, and he was very sensitive to
every slight change in public opinion, as are sometimes
violent and nervous people who are habitually silent.
234 GEORGE WASHINGTON
He would not have been able to explain this himself
any more than could the others with whom he talked,
but the fact was that he always shared the popular
feeling of the people of the region in which he was liv-
ing, and he always realized what were the interests at
stake. He led men, not because he had a bold and
original mind, not because he had the gift of words,
not because of his ideas, not because he was capable of
conceiving large plans, but because he carried in him-
self the same real needs as those who surrounded him
and translated them into action more quickly and
more energetically than the others.
He had, in 1774, joined his neighbours, his fellow-
planters, and they had carried America along with
them. In spite of the exhausting vicissitudes of the
war, in spite of all its vexation and defeats, he had felt
a deep contentment in his activities, and he never
doubted their possibilities nor their results. His in-
stincts never betrayed him.
In 1784 it was no longer a matter of fighting well de-
fined enemies. He had to choose. America uncertain
and doubtful was waiting, Virginia wavered. They
had rebelled against the English Parliament, then
they had declared a Revolution against the King of
England, finally they had warred against the English
nation, all this naturally had upset everybody. There
had been so much blood spilled, so much suffering and
hope, such frenzy that everybody had lost their heads.
Some had fought the revolution in order to be their
own masters, others so that they might not have any
master, some to destroy the British Empire, others to
found an American one. The rich so that the English
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 235
could not tax them, the poor in order to be able to
earn their living more easily. It was a maelstrom of
hopes, desires, contradictory interests, which fought
with each other in the dark and nobody any longer
knew anything.
Washington suffered from it more than any other
person, because he was more susceptible to it than
anybody else. It was in him as it was around him. As
an aristocratic republican of Virginia he had warred
against an arrogant Parliament and a stupid King; he
now wanted neither one nor the other, but he believed
in a strong central government because he had a sense
of taste for authority. However, he had honestly ac-
cepted the phraseology which had been so popular for
ten years and had been so useful as a legal basis for
revolt. His philosophical readings and the revolution-
ary atmosphere in which he lived had their influence
on his politics and had made words sound differently.
He used democratic phrases. He had struggled against
the centralization and the unenlightened despotism
which the English had imposed on America; he did
not wish to see them imposed again; but he had kept
his sense of realism, the American anarchy and the
rivalries between the States filled him with horror. He
had believed in the rights and in the wisdom of the
people, he had fought for them without weakening,
and had publicly recognized the people as supreme in
authority, but he knew that as masters, they were
lazy, unfaithful, and forgetful, very little aware of
their real interests.
When he left the army, he presented to the Ameri-
can people the liberty he had conquered for them (and
236 GEORGE WASHINGTON
too often without them), he gave them solemn and
sage advice. Without referring to any of the burning
questions of the day, he had preferred to limit his ad-
dress to topics on which they could all agree. He ad-
vised them to establish a strong government, and to
safeguard their interests honestly; he told them to
organize themselves in a practical, vigorous and moral
way. They all listened to him, some even wept, but
most of them understood nothing and others thought
that he would have better left it all unsaid.
In the existing disorder he wished to protect the
kernel of an organization which would later serve as
the social foundation of the new country. He had
helped to found the Society of the Cincinnati which
united all the veterans of the War of Independence. 6
These poor fellows, who had been so badly treated by
their country for ten years, who had fought often with-
out shoes or socks, sometimes without shirts, and al-
most always without a hot meal or powder for their
guns, and who at the end of the war had been paid in
depreciated currency, felt that they had at least the
right to form a mutual benefit association. Unfortu-
nately, the civilians were outraged by it. Washing-
ton took part in the dispute, and in vain advised
moderation to the civilians and patience to the Cin-
cinnati; it was in vain that he removed everything
that gave an aristocratic appearance to the Society,
such as the clause making hereditary the title of
Cincinnatus), still outraged the citizens continued
their campaign, even Jefferson and Franklin joining in
the outcry, while Mirabeau in Europe made a great
fuss over the matter. Washington was discouraged
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 237
and bewildered, and, while he did not want to abandon
his comrades-in-arms, he did not feel he could stem
the torrent either, and he regretfully decided to be ill
the next time the Cincinnati met. He had to put up
with it.
Washington had counted on commerce and the
expansion in the West to bring about a close col-
laboration between the States. He had launched the
Potomac Company, and had sent out colonists to the
West. He had persistently harassed Congress. But
what did he see? Congress becoming weaker and
weaker, and, being despised, it could not possibly
organize commercial relations between the States nor
give a fixed status to the West. Moreover, it could
not force England to give up the Mississippi forts as
she had promised.
Wedged in between the Spaniards, who jealously
kept the river closed to them, and the British, who
watched on them narrowly and closed the plains to
them; harassed by the Indians, who continued to mas-
sacre whenever they could, and exploited by the land
speculators, the Western settlers, far from being a
great strength to the United States, risked becoming
a danger, either by giving themselves up to a foreign
enemy or by becoming enemies of law and order within
the American boundaries. Washington knew that
their anger was rising.
All that he had accomplished was useless. All the
ideas he had developed so zealously, the prudent and
balanced words of advice he had given himself so much
trouble to formulate, were in vain.
They had even done him harm. He decided to say
238 GEORGE WASHINGTON
nothing and to wait. He laughed when he heard that
Franklin, now eighty years old, had, upon his return
from Europe, taken up the reins of the Pennsylvanian
government. Washington, faithful to his aristocratic
training, did not allow himself to become the toy of
parties; he hoped for a pure republic united and peace-
fully governed by the best people, just as Virginia had
been governed since his childhood. If things were
other than this, he could only stand aside. He did
stand aside. He abided by his decision, and with more
austerity than any one around him, his neighbours, his
friends, his advisers, and his recent companions, who
all wavered. He was in 1785 firm about nothing but
standing aloof.
Others had decided to have him as their leader,
even if they had to impose the honour upon him. Dur-
ing the years 1785, 1786, 1787, 1788, the group of
young aristocratic Patriots, John Jay, Alexander
Hamilton, Robert Morris, Gouverneur Morris, and
Madison, gave him no rest. He had kept up a close
intimacy with the Morrises they visited each other
at Philadelphia and Mount Vernon, exchanging com-
pliments, ideas, and feelings. Mount Vernon had
become one of the most important centres of society
in the United States, and there Washington received
the almost daily visits of this brilliant youthful group
which did not want to be deprived of the fruits of
their victory by an hysterical democracy. Madison
was often seen there, Hamilton frequently sent mes-
sages, Gouverneur Morris visited. Jay, the Secretary
of Foreign Affairs of Congress, kept in close touch
with him. The refusal of the Virginia Assembly to
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 239
vote a premium for Thomas Paine the great revolu-
tionary pamphleteer, who was in dire need, in spite of
the request of Washington and the efforts of Madison,
was very significant for him.
Peace having been restored, fortunes were once
more beginning to be made, and social positions were
reestablished, a good many of the lukewarm were
again prominent citizens; even the Tories returned to
their homes. The merchants of the large cities re-
sumed their commerce with England, the West Indies,
and Europe, and were rapidly getting rich, and specu-
lations in land were booming. Philadelphia, the Athens
of the West, was splendidly luxurious. Boston, New
York, and Charleston had their post-war aristocrats,
who were happy with what they had acquired, anxious
to protect it, and desirous of increasing it. They were
troubled by the radical harangues they heard in the
inns, upset by street rumours, and discouraged and
disgusted by the feeble speeches made in Congress.
These tried to unite and rally Congress to their side,
the Congress which was so disconcerted over the moral
and social disorders of the country. They won over
the Cincinnati, who had not fought ten years to see it
all fail now. They carried with them the rich farmers
everyone, in short, who owned anything. Their
leaders were brilliant and young: Jay, G. Morris,
Hamilton,RobertMorris,Bingham,etc. But they were
without the Leader. Jefferson was in Europe, and,
besides, he was not generally accepted. Adams was in
London and his too violent character was too well
known. The aged Franklin was too compromised by
his subversive and deistical ideas with a tendency to
2 4 o GEORGE WASHINGTON
anarchy. Besides, his popularity was undermined.
The only great leader whose place was undisputable
was Washington. The newly formed governing classes
had need of him.
He had kept himself carefully out of the public eye
for five years. He was appalled at the thought of
America becoming a monarchy. He had never lived
close to a great monarchy, the idea of it repelled him,
his nature forceful but confused needing the support
of equals. He had been upheld by the Virginian
aristocrats all his life. The murmurs which constantly
reached him: 'We need a leader/ and 'Only you can
save us/ unnerved him and drove him almost to
desperation.
However, the revolt, in Massachusetts, of the dis-
satisfied debtors and the small fry, eager for trouble
(Winter 1786-87) nearly destroyed his confidence in
the country while it alarmed the entire nation. It
seemed to many the prelude of the final dissolution to
which the United States was destined. Washington,
always cautious, hesitated to say anything about it,
but this was due only to an excess of prudence; he
really expected the worst to happen.
This panic brought the conservative elements to-
gether. They had at last found their watchword. A
positive program would have alarmed the country
and put a huge majority against them; a negative
program: *no more anarchy/ could not but please the
'rich and well born/- and rally the rest of the people
to their side. It was decided to hold a meeting of
the principal people chosen by the State Assemblies.
Washington was interested but thought and said that
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 041
it would be a failure. He bided his time, preferring to
wait. The vexations and rebuffs he had suffered for
the last five years were too fresh in his memory. He
decided that he would not go, even if the Virginia
Assembly wanted to send him to Philadelphia.
He was calculating without the efforts of Morris,
Hamilton, Knox, and Jay. All of those, who five
years before had tried to push him, now urged him
again. They found others to help them. They were
such a noisy crowd around him that in the last mo-
ment he yielded.
He left for Philadelphia, but much against his
will.
As he entered the city, all the church bells rang. He
dined with Franklin that evening. During the course
of the week, Bingham, the most brilliant financier of
the New World, gave a great dinner in his honour. He
was invited from house to house. He was the hero, the
King. The delegates elected him President of the
Convention. He presided silently, dignified, and ma-
jestic. His presence imposed peace, his silence in-
spired a wise restraint, and his attitude gave weight to
their proceedings. As President, he could take no part
in their deliberations and this was also his desire. As a
relaxation he often went fishing and he talked with the
farmers of the vicinity about their farming. In the
Convention while he watched, they did not succeed in
creating a monarchy, but they did form a stable
dictatorship controlled by a president whose powers,
though limited, gave him great authority. The Con-
gress was conceived as an aristocratic body, the mem-
bers to be in all probability elected among the rich
GEORGE WASHINGTON
and well born and over them was to rule a President
whose executive powers were restricted but effective.
He had under his control war, navy, finances and the
appointment to all federal offices, including judges.
From his presiding chair Washington followed it all.
He watched the defeat of Franklin and his fellow-
democrats with their ideas of a weak plural executive,
and others of their cherished doctrines. He saw the
hesitant members gradually being influenced to ac-
tion. Without taking sides and always looking stead-
ily, he saw the tide mount. The final vote was unani-
mous (May-September, 1787).
During the Convention, Washington had dined a
good deal in society and had visited churches of all
denominations, Catholic, Anglican, Presbyterian, etc.
He had gone fishing for long periods at a time. He had
pondered. He had however not come to any conclu-
sion. He returned to Mount Vernon in a thoughtful,
meditative mood. He was still dubious of the success
of the Convention, and wrote to La Fayette:
It is the result of four months* deliberation. It is now a
child of fortune to be fostered by some and buffeted by
others. What will be the general opinion, or the reception
of it, is not for me to decide; nor shall I say anything for or
against it. If it be good, I suppose it will work its way, if
bad, it will recoil on the framers* 7
He took no part. He had not been able from Mount
Vernon to observe the extent of the change in social
conditions which was going on in the rest of the coun-
try. He had not felt the power of this new and domi-
nant oligarchy. In rural Virginia, the land of an old
aristocracy, this movement was very ill-defined.
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 243
These Virginians did not take kindly to the idea that
they were to give up any part of their traditional au-
thority. During the violent campaign for the new
constitution throughout the country, General Wash-
ington, prudent and meditative, remained at home.
He encouraged the champions of Federalism at a
distance, he gave them advice and the benefit of his
opinions, but he stayed at Mount Vernon to watch
his servants scrape the carrots and weed c pumpions'
(pumpkins).
However, the States, one after the other, ratified
the new Constitution. The day came when a com-
mittee of Maryland Federalists arrived at Mount
Vernon and presented to General Washington with
great pomp and ceremony the good ship Federalist, a
charming miniature ship, six feet long with masts and
rigging complete. They anchored it in the Potomac
just under the windows of Mount Vernon. A few
weeks later, on July 24, a storm, with pleasant irony,
buffeted it until it sank with all hands and cargo
aboard, while breathless couriers brought the news
that the Federalists had been victorious throughout
the country.
The General no longer hesitated. He accepted the
call of the country as being the voice of destiny. He
plucked up his courage and added his all-powerful
note to the chorus which was demanding union and
national strength. He gave the signal, the people
were all waiting for it and they chose him as the first
President of the United States of America.
Then, with fear and trembling with a deadly anxiety
such as he had never known before, he prepared to go
244 GEORGE WASHINGTON
and to accept at the hands of his imperious friends the
dictatorship he had refused for seven years.
Before going, he noted in his diary:
April 1 6 About ten o'clock I bade adieu to Mount
Vernon, to private life, and to domestic felicity, and with a
mind oppressed with more anxious and painful sensations
than I have words to express, set out for New York in
company with Mr. Thompson and Colo. Humphreys, with
the best disposition to render service to my country in
obedience to its calls, but with less hope of answering its
expectations. 8
GEORGE WASHINGTON, PRESIDENT
On April 30, 1789, the day of his inauguration,
General Washington was ashy-pale. The first time he
spoke to the Senate, his hands trembled so violently
he could scarcely find his spectacles. His friends were
aware of the terror he felt and the critics noted it as
well. Despite the encouragement of his faithful
friends, despite the complimentary address of the city
councils and the ovations of the crowds, the first
President of the United States did not have confidence
either in himself, or in the people., or in Destiny. 9
The group which had put him into power against
his wishes wanted, just as he did, a strong central gov-
ernment for the country. Both he and his adherents
had faith in facts rather than in theories; they flattered
themselves that in order to insure national unity they
only needed to emphasize material interests and de-
velop a sense of the common need. In this way they
counted on winning the aid of the better classes and
the approval of the masses. But there their com-
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 245
munity of views ended; Gouverneur Morris and
Hamilton had a hankering for a monarchy, John
Adams and Jay preferred an aristocratic republic, a
regime that Washington would doubtless have chosen
had he had a political system, but he attached more
importance to the way of governing than to the type
of government. As long as the people were contented,
and all the ablest solidly organized, governed, he was
satisfied-
Washington, among his brilliant followers, who
were gifted with political imagination and capable of
embodying it in ingenious constitutional law, must
have seemed dull; but he had two attributes of ines-
timable value.
He had an instinct for practical politics. Hamilton,
by all his genius and aggressive temper, had succeeded
in imposing the Constitution on the country, without
knowing to what extent his work was precarious.
Washington saw it, for he had a clear intuition of
crowds and their movements. For him the Constitu-
tion would have value only if people lived under it and
became accustomed to it.
He had a sense of historical continuity. He was not
a gambler like Hamilton, or the two Morrises. He felt
that every act accomplished in these critical days
would have its effect throughout the ages, and that
even the least of their creations and inventions would
immediately become precedents. He was conscious
in every act of the necessity of not endangering or de-
stroying the future in advance.
He had no elaborated system, and in his papers one
cannot find any trace of the path he had decided to
246 GEORGE WASHINGTON
follow, but his actions all bear witness to a systematic
choice and a consistent method. As soon as he was
able, he questioned his callers on the state of public
opinion, read the gazettes, and attended to his na-
tional and international correspondence. He informed
himself of the opinions of the better sort as well as
those of the masses. Before nominating men to official
positions, he examined them with extreme care in
order to be sure that he could count on them. The
Constitution allowed him a great deal of latitude, but
he wished to profit by it only to the extent of creating
an administrative and national aristocracy which the
new regime needed. He took infinite care in appoint-
ing officials so that they might be selected from the
best families from all parts of the country, and from
all of the society classes (at least all those above the
common people) and from all the professions. He
chose men of strong characters as officials in this gov-
ernment which was still very weak. He created a rul-
ing class. At the same time he gave poise to the
government. Every action, every thing he undertook
he did with the desire of impressing his simplicity and
grandeur as a force at once friendly and formidable.
He did not busy himself much with foreign rela-
tions. He was thankful that Europe was far off, occu-
pied with its own quarrels and not interested in Amer-
ican affairs. Washington's only interest in Europe
was to find out if the fortified posts in the West would
be shortly given up to the United States and if Spain
would concede it the right to navigate the Mississippi.
This was his really great idea, his most constant ob-
session. He felt that the aristocracy of America should
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 247
be composed of land-owners, and that the real bond
between the States and between all American citizens
should be that immense reserve of territory, the West,
which was still barred to them by the British forts
(although the peace of 1783 had guaranteed their
evacuation), and which was still blocked by the Span-
ish Government's closing the Mississippi to the Amer-
icans, in spite of their promises to the contrary. Who-
ever would open the West for him would be his friend,
whoever would keep it closed was his enemy. As for
the rest, he did not know foreigners and did not care
to know them. He had old and tender friendships in
England, young and charming friends in France. He
was faithful to them. But it was America and America
alone which possessed his heart, his devotion, and his
desires.
He dreamed of his country night and day. He
worked for America body and soul. He all but killed
himself. He had one illness after another. In June-
July, 1789, a carbuncle put his life in danger. In
January, 1790, his teeth tortured him. In May- June,
1790, he nearly died of an attack of pneumonia which
left him weak.
His doctor ordered him to take exercise, and Wash-
ington, feeling that his duty was to go on living, do-
cilely obeyed. Almost every day he noted in his diary:
'Exercised on horseback between 5 and 7 in the morn-
ing.' I0 or: ' Walked around the battery in the after-
noon/ or: 'Exercised with Mrs. Washington and the
children, in the coach/ Thus gradually he regained
his health, but he was still tired and worn, as his drawn
face showed; a solemn expression was now habitual to
248 GEORGE WASHINGTON
him; it concealed the uncertainty of each day, the de-
cline of his strength, and the ardour which was con-
suming him.
He rested only when he travelled. In his childhood
he had so often rambled over the roads of Virginia,
and in his youth he had so gallantly galloped along
the paths and through the forests of the West and
South! It was thus he had learned to unbend and to
know the people whose leader he had now become.
Instinctively he resumed these trips as a relaxation
and also to learn again, to put himself in touch with
his countrymen and to talk to them. They were happy
days. Whenever he could escape from Congress,
Philadelphia, and his monotonous duties, he departed
with delight to explore New England (October 15-
November 13, 1789) or Long Island (July, 1790) or
the South (March- July, 1791).
In his coach, accompanied by his little escort and
his servants, Washington travelled in homely majesty
over the dusty roads of his empire. He seemed to
everyone as the immediate and concrete symbol of the
nation. They zealously paid him every honour they
could and he always accepted politely whatever it
might be. 'Oct. 10, 1789. The inhabitants of this
place [Flushing, Long Island] shewed us what respect
they could, by making the best use of one cannon to
salute/ IJ
Washington asked questions everywhere what
people were thinking and feeling, what the economic
conditions were; he chatted with notables, rich men,
officers, patriots, clergymen. If they were not too far
away from his lodging, he would go to a Catholic
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 249
Mass, a Quaker meeting, a Congregational preaching,
or an Anglican service. He listened without yawning
to many a 'lame sermon/- He visited the factories,
work-shops, farms, and fisheries. He was always gra-
cious, but he had no weakness.
In Boston, an old 'friend,' Hancock, the Governor
of Massachusetts, was decided to give Washington a
reception worthy of them both. 12 The two men had
hardly met since 1775, when Washington had been
made Commander-in-Chief, a post which Hancock
believed ought to have been given to him. He had too
large a nature and Washington's career was too bril-
liant for their friendship to have suffered any change.
Hancock, Governor of Massachusetts, was as dignified
as Washington, President of the United States. He
therefore, with great majesty, invited Washington to
alight at his house and sent ahead as an escort to meet
him the Lieutenant-Governor, a general, and the
troops. With the addition of the Light Horse of
Middlesex it made a handsome escort. Then Hancock
prepared a superb dinner, for he knew how to manage
such matters.
This magnificent programme was unfortunately
spoiled by two misunderstandings.
The zeal of the municipal authorities led them into
conflict with the State authorities. The municipal
council had assembled the Boston children at the en-
trance of the city, where, dressed in their Sunday best,
they waited to receive the President with hymns and
flowers. The State authorities wanted to be the first
with all their cavalry (mounted sheriffs) to welcome
the President of the United States on his entry into
250 GEORGE WASHINGTON
their capital. Without any warning, they galloped
through the ranks of children at the risk of crushing
them. There was a great uproar, indignation, and a
long quarrelsome discussion as to which party should
give way. The two reception committees orated from
coach to coach, exchanging bitter and logical argu-
ments in the midst of a crowd exasperated at standing
still so long in the harsh north wind. The dispute
went on and on. Washington had mounted his horse
to make an imposing entrance; he waited and waited,
moving nervously in the saddle, and finally not being
able to hold out longer, he decided to enter by a
roundabout road; just then the quarrel was settled in
favour of the children and Washington was able to
make his entry into the city, according to the plan and
to be enthusiastically greeted by thousands of citi-
zens, who mingled their hurrahs with sneezes, for
many of them had waited so long they had caught
cold.
Washington noted with satisfaction the smart uni-
forms, the flattering pennants, the salute of cannon,
and the Veil-dressed ladies/ (He was very sensitive
to this compliment.)
However, the complications continued. Hancock
had got it into his head that Washington, being on his
travels, should first visit him; Washington thought
that, as President of the United States, the Governor
should wait upon him at his lodging. While Hancock
awaited Washington at his house, the General was
waiting for Hancock at his lodging. He even refused
to dine at Hancock's as he had promised. The longer
this situation existed, the more difficult it became, and
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY
the two great men, thus condemned to the prison of
their rooms, might have found no way out of the diffi-
culty had not Hancock accepted the good advice of
some of his friends who persuaded him that as nothing
could triumph over Washington's obstinacy he would
have to yield. Hancock resigned himself once more.
He had an attack of gout and wrote to Washington,
telling him so. Washington answered that he ought
certainly to take care of himself. The following day,
Hancock went to see Washington, but had to be
carried to his presence by several lusty fellows, his
legs being swathed in bandages. He excused himself
for having delayed his visit owing to this unfortunate
infirmity, and the President was extremely polite to
him and very solicitous about his health. Thus the
prestige of the National Government was upheld and
that of the local government saved, there were no ill
feelings between the two, and the people were satis-
fied. Moreover, Hancock quickly got over his gout, a
recovery which was begrudged him by many Boston-
ians who were still suffering from their colds.
Everywhere he went, Washington on his travels
was received enthusiastically everywhere and there
were always the Veil-dressed ladies/ Even the
weather favoured the United States. After bad years,
the harvests of 1789, 1790, and 1791 were good, the
price of wheat went up, business began to recover, the
imports from Europe and the West Indies were bal-
anced by the agricultural exports. The farmers did
not complain, the merchants were satisfied, the fac-
tory owners were very hopeful, and the bankers de-
lighted with the business activity which permitted
252 GEORGE WASHINGTON
them to speculate successfully* Washington perceived
this state of mind and it encouraged him. He saw a
people proud of being governed and satisfied with the
first results of his administration. Washington re-
turned to New York with more hope and a lighter
heart than he had had for the ten previous years.
He resumed his work. He tried to constitute his
cabinet. Since John Adams, a middle-class aristocrat
of the North was Vice-President, he chose Jefferson, a
philosophical aristocrat of the South, as his Secretary
of State; Hamilton, a military aristocrat of New York,
as Secretary of the Treasury; Knox, a clever General
of the North, as Secretary of War; and Jay, the New
York aristocrat who had been more or less of a Prime
Minister under the old Congress, as Chief Justice of
the Supreme Court of the United States. He sent
Gouverneur Morris, a New York aristocrat and an
old friend and ally of A. Hamilton, to Europe on the
mission of obtaining the liberation of the West. And
then, without alienating anyone, he tried to form his
cabinet into a coherent whole.
Every Tuesday, from two to three o'clock, Wash-
ington received callers. He welcomed all the people
who came to his 'levee' in a dignified and polite man-
ner, but without inviting them to sit down, as the
room was too small. On Friday evenings, after dinner,
Mrs. Washington entertained a limited number of
guests, who conversed and drank tea. Once a week,
the President gave a dinner. He considered these
social functions very important and carefully noted
how they were composed, just as he noted the daily
change of the barometer.
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 253
On October 2, 1789, The visitors of Mrs. Washing-
ton... were not numerous'; on the 9th, they were
'respectable both of gentlemen and ladies'; on Novem-
ber 20, The visitors of Gent'n and ladies to Mrs.
Washington were numerous and respectable'; on the
27th, 'not many visitors'; on December 4, 'a great
number of visitors'; on the nth, 'Being rainy and
bad, no person except the Vice-President visited Mrs.
Washington this evening'; on the 25th, the visitors
'were not numerous, but respectable.' It was the same
for the 'levee,' On Tuesday, October 13, 'a good many
gentlemen attended'; on November 17, the visitors
were 'numerous' ; on the 24th, 'a good deal of com-
pany'; on December i, 'A pretty full Levee'; on the
8th, 'a full Levee'; on the I5th, the visitors 'were not
very numerous though respectable'; on the 22d, 'A
pretty full and respectable Levee,' but on the 29th,
'Being very snowing, not a single person appeared at
the Levee.' And so the year ended. But the following
one began very well, as on Friday, January I, he
noted, 'The Vice-President, the Governor, the Sena-
tors, Members of the House of Representatives in
town, foreign public characters, and all the respect-
able citizens came between the hours of 12 and
3 o'clock, to pay the compliments to the season to
me and in the afternoon a great number of gentle-
men and ladies visited Mrs. Washington on the same
occasion/ I3
It was a good beginning. In 1790, when a social
system had to be imposed on a young people, used to
anarchy for twenty years, too many precautions could
not be taken. Had the Washingtons entertained
254 GEORGE WASHINGTON
more brilliantly, there would have been cries of
'monarchy'; had their entertainments been any more
modest, their soirees would have provoked ridicule.
Washington succeeded in satisfying his aristocratic
friends without going too far in their direction. This
was not easily accomplished, to achieve it he had to
give all his attention to the matter.
He therefore dismissed everything that could in
any way divert his attention. He received all kinds of
suggestions from everywhere, along with compliments
and praises, but he refused to consider them. One
day a young Frenchman called upon him. He intro-
duced himself as the Chevalier de Chateaubriand,
who had come to ask Washington's protection and
help in his enterprise of searching for the Northwest
Passage beyond the Behring Sea. He was ardent with
hope and trembling with emotion. He was bursting
with genius as yet unrecognized and he needed money.
Chateanbriandjnever forgot this meeting and described
it as follows : I4 -
A small house, resembling the neighbouring houses, was
the palace of the President of the United States : there were
no guards, nor even footmen. I knocked, and a young maid
opened the door. I asked her if the general were at home;
she answered he was. I replied that I had a letter to give
him. The maid asked my name, but, as it was difficult to
pronounce in English, she could not remember it. She then
said very sweetly, 'Walk in; Sir/ and walked ahead of me
through the narrow corridor which serves as a hall in Eng-
lish houses; she showed me to a parlour where she asked me
to wait the general. . , .
A few moments later, the general entered; he was very
tall and seemed more calm and cold than he seemed noble;
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 255
he looked like the engravings I had seen of him. I presented
my letter in silence; he opened it, hastily turning to the sig-
nature, he read it out loud, exclaiming ' Colonel ArmandF
That was the name he used in speaking of the Marquis de
la Rouerie, who had signed the letter with this simple title.
We sat down. I explained the purpose of my voyage to
him as well as I could. He answered with French and Eng-
lish monosyllables and listened to me with a kind of sur-
prise; I perceived this and said with some liveliness: 'But
it is not half so hard to discover the Northwest Passage as
it is to create a nation as you have done.' 'Well, well,
young man ! ' he exclaimed, holding out his hand. He in-
vited me to come and dine with him on the following day
and then the visit was over.
Chateaubriand had been given no more than a
'Well, well/ Washington, the builder of a nation,
concerned himself no longer with adventures which
had stimulated the dreams of his youth. He dis-
trusted them. And when he saw his friends engage
themselves in hazardous enterprises, he feared for
them. La Fayette's letters made him shiver. He did
not understand the fervour of the French revolution-
ists, their resounding enthusiasm astounded him, their
liking for abstract ideas remained a mystery to him.
He had always been wary of general theories and
empty eloquence. Now he was more afraid of them
than ever.
La Fayette sent him a key of the Bastille. Paine, in
inclosing it in a letter, said: 'When he mentioned to
me the present he intended you, my heart leaped with
joy. It is something so truly in character, that no re-
marks can illustrate it, and is more happily expressive
of his remembrance of his American friends than any
256 GEORGE WASHINGTON
letters can convey. That the principles of America
opened the Bastille is not to be doubted, and there-
fore the key comes to the right place/ IS
On receiving this present, it did not seem that
Washington felt his heart leap with joy. He consid-
ered the key curiously, toyed with it a moment, and
then put it in his pocket.
To thank La Fayette he sent him a pair of shoe
buckles, with this amiable note: c Not for the value of
the thing, my dear Marquis, but as a Memorial, and
because they are the manufacture of this city, I send
you herewith a pair of shoe buckles/
THE LAST CAMPAIGN OF GENERAL WASHINGTON
Washington carried the key of the Bastille from
Philadelphia to Mount Vernon. He often showed it
to visitors there. He would look at it curiously, ever
so slightly embarrassed and perplexed. It brought
back to him the most difficult of his decisions, the last
battle he had had to fight.
The weeks and the months rolled on. The Presi-
dent prudently steered the Ship of State in the midst
of dangerous reefs; with the aid of his cabinet and
financiers, such as Robert Morris and Bingham, who
were his friends, he guided the Senate. The finances
of the United States under the genius of Hamilton,
began to take shape. He had succeeded in having the
Federal Government assume the debts of the States,
and he had solidly established the new taxes, credit,
and the young Bank of the United States. He had in
this way won the capitalists for the Government. It
was thanks to his able manipulations and to an oppor-
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 257
tune compromise that the South and North were
hindered from quarrelling with one another; a site for
the new capital was chosen at the boundaries of Mary-
land and Virginia. Government was for the present
to remain in Philadelphia. North Carolina and Rhode
Island at last submitted to the Federal Government,
Kentucky and Vermont were admitted as new States.
Commerce and agriculture prospered, and industries
began to be organized. The negotiations with Spain
and England were continuing. The Indians in the
West, though still menacing, were not indulging in any
of their worst excesses. Washington began to breathe
more easily, and in moments of leisure looked after
the management of Mount Vernon and the education
of his nephews.
But this troublesome key of the Bastille, gleaming
dully on the what-not, brought cruel memories to his
mind. Washington had foreseen a conflict that was
constantly increasing in his cabinet. Hamilton and
Adams wanted to discourage any democratic enthusi-
asm, any new experiments in democracy, and wished
to create an aristocratic empire with a strong, and, if
possible, a brilliant nobility. Jefferson, on the con-
trary, was much interested in all the European revolu-
tions, and was not in the least attracted to the new
middle-class aristocracy of finance which his colleagues
wanted to transform into a nobility. Washington in-
tended to solidify the actual regime. Jefferson, at-
tracted to him men who advocated bold and radical
doctrines. His lively but disingenuous character, his
subtle, complicated mind, did not easily harmonize
with the direct, brutal, and sometimes cynical intelli-
258 GEORGE WASHINGTON
gence of Hamilton,, whom he perhaps envied. He re-
marked that the President, often tired and always
finding it difficult to express himself, relied more and
more on this young colonel-lawyer-financier who was
so lucid and so eloquent. The conflict between the
democratic gentleman of the South and the foundling
aristocrat of New York became bitter. Washington
remonstrated with them in vain, he tried to induce
them to think a little less of themselves and their
theories and a little more of their work, their country,
and peace. But the situation grew steadily worse.
They tried vainly to come to an understanding; they
only understood each other well enough to hate each
other. And Washington, no matter what his personal
difficulties may have been in expressing himself,
could not hinder these two from completely expressing
themselves.
As long as it remained a dispute between the two
men, Washington could tolerate it, but the day came
when Washington felt himself caught between two
parties.
Washington was so little a democrat that he could
not conceive of a republic with distinct parties. For
him there were no other differences than the good and
the better, rich and poorer, nothing to discuss except
who were the best possible men to govern, and let them
govern in peace. He thought any other kind of politi-
cal activity was dangerous. The idea of anyone com-
ing between the ruling aristocrats and the common
people was extremely disagreeable to him. The notion
of any organization among the voters was absurd.
When he accepted the Presidency, one of his chief
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 259
sources of anxiety had been the prolongation of the
opposition between the two parties, the Federalists
and the Anti-Federalists, continued. One of his great-
est joys in 1789-90 was to be certain that the Anti-
Federalists no longer constituted a party or even a
coherent group, but were only dissatisfied and isolated
individuals.
He was all the more frightened in 1792-93 to see the
party spirit rise again, and to realize that a new party
was being formed.
Jefferson, left alone, would not have tried to consti-
tute a party. Perhaps he did not wish to. He was
neither violent nor combative nor eloquent. Hamil-
ton was too generous to try to destroy a solitary col-
league, too clever to make their discussions known.
Their quarrel could have been carried on with discre-
tion, and so remain, within bounds.
Unfortunately, just at this time the Government of
the United States had to make its first important
political decision about foreign affairs. 16 France, their
ally, had declared war on England. The entire pro-
blem of the future direction of American policy de-
pended upon the decision they would now make. The
treaty of alliance, ambiguous and complicated as
treaties generally are, did not strictly oblige the
United States to take any part in the war at least
if the war was not clearly a defensive one on the part
of France, and if it did not extend to the West Indies
and certainly in 1786-89, the Government of Louis
XVI had been inclined to accept the neutrality of
America. But the treaty, both in text and spirit,
260 GEORGE WASHINGTON
obliged the United States to treat France as a favoured
nation. The feelings of the American people were in
accord with the spirit of the treaty. No one in the
United States wanted war, but everyone continued to
hate the British, who refused to evacuate the forts in
the West or to sign a commercial treaty, and who were
always insolent in their dealings with America. Wash-
ington felt a sincere gratitude to France and often
showed it; he had many friends among the French.
Jefferson was intimately connected with France.
Hamilton himself had very much liked his French
comrades-in-arms .
But Washington wanted to avoid war; he was deter-
mined to secure these famous Western outposts by
peaceful means, and it was indispensable to reorgan-
ize the country solidly before submitting it to new
shocks. The Americans could not crusade for France.
The French had been induced to make war for the
liberty of the United States by the pacifist-philosophi-
cal friends of liberty, uniting with the anti-English and
warlike conservatives. In America, the philosophers
were pacifists and Francophiles, but the conservatives
were also pacifists in order to be able to establish their
power solidly. There was no incentive to break with
England, while everything tended to induce the United
States adopting a friendly neutrality towards France.
On April 22, 1793, the President published a pro-
clamation of neutrality.
A few days before, a young Frenchman disembarked
at Charleston; he was charming, brilliant, cultured,
good-hearted, filled with courage and patriotic zeal.
His name was Edme Genet and he was the new Min-
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 261
ister of the French Republic to the United States. 17
He dreamed of fame and immediately upon arriving,
he made speeches, inciting the people against the
English; he had several privateers armed to fight
against them, and he travelled from Charleston to
Philadelphia with great ostentation, arousing en-
thusiasm wherever he went. He thought he would be
a new Franklin. He was mistaken.
Nothing could have annoyed Washington more
than this conduct. Washington wanted peace. He
had proclaimed neutrality and was trying to prevail
upon the public to control their emotions and to calm
their excitement. Genet had come at the wrong time.
Jefferson was instructed to tell him this, which he did.
Genet replied disdainfully. To his mind the Govern-
ment of the United States did not matter much. Only
the people interested him. He considered Washington
to be an old man, no doubt eminent, but a man who
had seen his day. He thought that the people were
the only sovereign and had only to speak, Washington
would yield. He endeavoured to make the people
speak.
The American people at this time were quite in-
clined to speak, even to shout if they were urged.
Washington had gathered around him the commercial
and landed aristocracy, the urban middle class and
the big farmers; but he had not yet conciliated the city
population burdened by poor, nervous immigrants,
recently arrived from Ireland, France, Germany, the
West Indies, and all the regions where there was an
economic crisis and political disorder. The Western
settlers, always dissatisfied because they felt they
GEORGE WASHINGTON
were poorly supported against the English and the
Spanish, were attracted by the radical conceptions of
democracy and they did not regard the new middle-
class government very favourably.
These 'disaffected' were composed of incongruous
and scattered elements, but they were many and ener-
getic, capable easily of becoming influential if they
found leaders. Genet, in spite of his faults, had a good
idea. He organized these heterogeneous elements by
creating popular societies (called either patriotic or
democratic). These were not really new, similar ones
having existed before and after the Revolution. But
they had fallen into neglect, and Washington, who
sharply disapproved of them, had helped to consign
them into oblivion. Genet had re-formed them with
the aid of the Jacobin French in America, the French
merchants, the German and Irish immigrants, and
the very cultivated philosopher-friends of Franklin.
Washington and the other Federalists had not known
how to attract these cultivated and liberal groups
which Franklin, in former times, had gathered to-
gether at the Masonic lodge in Philadelphia and at
the Philosophical Society. Jefferson, who doubtless
could have attracted them and conciliated them with
the new Government, had not taken the trouble to do
so. These doctors, lawyers, educated chemists, Jewish
lawyers, and German grocers, who were not profiting
directly from the new institutions, and to whom
Franklin had bequeathed the cult of philosophical
principles as well as a deep respect for France, worked
might and main to reestablish these patriotic societies
and give a voice to the obscure, dissatisfied crowds of
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 263
immigrants. Genet, the orator, rose against Washing-
ton. He spoke insolently and menacingly.
His triumph did not last long. The President had
him notified to stop his proceedings, to stop arming
privateers in American harbours, and to respect the
neutrality of the United States. Genet was intimi-
dated by the cold severity of Washington. His weak-
ness was making promises, and, what was worse, not
keeping his promises. Washington, supported by his
cabinet, signified to the French Government that he
desired the recall of Genet. This suggestion was well
taken in France, where the Girondin friends of Genet
had just fallen under the attacks of the Montagnards,
who would doubtless have found it a pleasure not only
to cut off Genet's diplomatic career but also his head.
Disdainful and magnanimous, Washington allowed
Genet to take refuge in the United States. He had
eliminated him as a dangerous enemy. He had not,
however, been able to break up the popular societies
and they were a thorn in his flesh. The most annoying
thing was that the newspapers were interesting them-
selves in them, as they were attempting to constitute
a party, and Jefferson undoubtedly had some connec-
tion with them.
Another in Washington's place would have been
intimidated. Washington himself would have been in
1789. But now, Washington neither retreated nor
avoided the issue: 1789 had passed. He was no longer
hesitant and did not feel himself abandoned with a
hesitant Virginian aristocracy and a still weak national
aristocracy. A ruling class now existed and had re-
elected him unanimously in 1793. He was ready to
264 GEORGE WASHINGTON
struggle vigorously for it and had occasion to do so
some months later.
During the autumn of 1794, there was a rather seri-
ous uprising in the West against the levying and collec-
ting of the excise tax on whiskey; it soon became armed
rebellion, and Washington, after having put it down
energetically and with little trouble, was able openly
to attack the popular societies. He denounced them
as being responsible for the disorder and held them up
to public scorn. A republican, he took a definite stand
against the democracy. He had the 'rich and well
born' with him (December, 1794)- But he did not suc-
ceed in destroying the societies nor in calming the
popular discontent. On the contrary, the spirit of the
party in opposition crystallized, and as Jefferson had
retired to his estate he seemed like a martyr to their
cause; the party adopted him, if not as its leader, at
least as its patron saint.
A violent press campaign commenced against Wash-
ington. It seemed that, by a curious turn of events,
all the revolutionary ardour of former days, once di-
rected against England, was now turned against him.
Tom Paine, whom Washington had admired very
much, and whose writings had greatly helped the
revolutionary cause, was the leader of this campaign.
He said of Washington (and to Washington) : c As to
you, Sir, treacherous in private friendship (for so you
have been to me, and that in the day of danger) and a
hypocrite in public life, the world will be puzzled to
decide, whether you are an apostate or an imposter,
whether you have abandoned good principles, or
whether you ever had any/ l8
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 265
And the important republican newspaper 'The
Aurora/ published a still stronger statement: 'Under
the pantomime of a great man, Mr. Washington con-
ceals much negative intrigue.' I9
Tom Paine in 1797, wanted to humble George
Washington exactly as he and Washington together
had humbled King George. Washington was indig-
nant at all these vulgar and brutal insults. The Re-
publicans, on the other hand, just as sincerely thought
that Washington was a traitor, who, after having
guided America through the Revolution, was betray-
ing his country to the rich, to the *monocrats,' as they
were then called, and to the Anglophiles. They saw in
him one who was turning his back on beliefs that he
had defended apparently from 1774 to 1783.
But George Washington never had accepted these
beliefs. He had made use of them when their vitality
and vigour served in creating a new nation. In him,
doctrines had ever had but strange veiled faces. His
instincts were all that were his own. He had followed
democratic ideas as long as they were in harmony with
his habits of living, with his aristocratic Anglo-Saxon
traditions, with the impetus of this free land, but now
they had turned against him, againstunity, against the
land he loved. They were no longer the same in his
eyes. He rejected them with horror.
To destroy the germs of schism and to seal the
Union forever, Washington decided on a bold move.
He had sent John Jay to London promptly and almost
secretly in April, 1794. Jay was a persistent, distin-
guished, and clear-thinking gentleman who cherished
an undying hatred for France because of what he be-
266 GEORGE WASHINGTON
lieved to have been underhand conduct in 1781-82.
He felt a sympathy for England, which was all the
deeper because of his protestantism which made him
understand the English spirit. He left determined to
make possible a reconciliation with the British Gov-
ernment.
For a long time there was no news of him. The
winter of 1794-95 was long and hard* The coasts of
America were swept by winds and tempests com-
parable to the violent passions which held sway over
the nation. The popular societies and democratic
newspapers attacked Washington, while in the rich
and luxurious Philadelphia his circle of friends became
more and more like a provincial aristocracy and his
house like a middle-class court. The exiled nobility of
Europe frequented the house of the banker, Bingham,
and felt at home there. The fluent and adroit English
Minister, George Hammond, made it his general
headquarters. All the fashionable world was on his
side. Meanwhile, the French Ambassador continued
his recriminations, and walked about the town,
accompanied by his filthy Jacobins, shabby politi-
cal friends, and American democrats, wearing the
French Revolutionary cockade. The fashionable world
turned aside from him. He no longer came to see the
President for fear of meeting with French exiles. Were
not all the French friends of Washington aristocrats?
Rochambeau, La Fayette, Noailles, Chastellux, were
all nobles. The French Minister would have lost all
contact with the American Government had not a
curious and deep intimacy existed between him and
the Secretary of State, Randolph, Jefferson's successor.
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 267
It was not until March, 1795, that the treaty ar-
rived from London, although Jay had accepted it in
December. Washington read it carefully. It was
bad, very little in their favour, not even just. How-
ever, it offered three advantages: it settled, tempo-
rarily at least, the live questions of the moment; it
avoided war; and it assured the Western outposts to
the Americans. That was sufficient* Washington, al-
though he was not enthusiastic about the treaty, re-
solved to go on with it. He submitted it to the Senate.
At first, the Senate was filled with consternation. They
had not expected it to be so unpleasant. But it was
either that or war, as George Hammond, who did not
leave Philadelphia, and whose house was open to every-
one, made them understand. The Senate understood,
and ratified the treaty, June 24, 1795, asking for the
modification of a detail in order to keep up appear-
ances. 20
This treaty, which put the American merchant
ships at the mercy of the English, which transformed
the American neutrality into a neutrality favourable
to England, was certainly contrary to the spirit of the
treaties of 1778. But Louis XVI and Marie Antoin-
ette had been beheaded, Vergennes was dead, Gerard
was dead, La Fayette exiled and detained in an Aus-
trian dungeon, Rochambeau in prison in Paris, La
Rouerie was dead, Segur in prison, Lauzun beheaded,
Chastellux dead, La Luzerne dead... only Genet
was left.
The American Government honestly felt itself freed
of its obligations to France.
The majority of the American people did not think
a68 GEORGE WASHINGTON
so. It hacTcome to be vaguely known that the Presi-
dent had the treaty. But Washington, anxious that
Congress should deliberate on the treaty in peace, had
not wished to communicate the text of the document
to anyone. He knew what the public would think of
it. However, a week after the treaty had been ratified
by the Senate, the republican paper, The Aurora/
published the treaty, the text of which had been trans-
mitted to them by a senator of the opposition, Mason.
The newspaper was circulated throughout the coun-
try, and in a week the people of the United States were
boiling with indignation. Farmers, Western colonists,
all the Francophile radicals raised an angry stir, the
merchants in the seaports pulled a long face, the
sailors were furious. There was a general uproar. The
grandson of the great Franklin, Benjamin Franklin
Bache, editor, although he was only twenty-five years
old, of The Aurora/ led the attack against Washing-
ton, and travelled through all the Eastern cities,
organizing meetings in New York, Connecticut, and
Boston, to denounce the treaty. The venerable
Samuel Adams joined with him. Public fury and pa-
triotic indignation were rampant everywhere.
Washington was surprised, but he was not shaken.
The treaty was bad, but it guaranteed the West to
America; that was enough. He was all the more firm
in his stand because of the campaign directed against
him and his work. His friends undertook the defence
of the treaty eloquently and skilfully, but with no
great results; the rich merchants organized manifesta-
tions in favour of it with more success. But none of
these efforts would have been of use had not Washing-
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 269
ton, by his sheer obstinate silence, disconcerted his
enemies.
He imposed his will on the people and signed the
treaty.
But he would not have won the battle against public
opinion had it not been for a master stroke of the
British. In March, 1795, the English had seized a
despatch from the French Minister, Fauchet, which
seriously compromised Randolph, the Secretary of
State. Fauchet revealed in terms that were only too
clear that Randolph had received money from him,
either for his personal use or to give to American
politicians. The English Government hastily sent
this paper to Hammond, who showed it to his friend
Wolcott, the Secretary of the Treasury (July 28,
1795), who in turn showed it to Washington.
The scandal which burst, and which stripped Ran-
dolph of his honour if not of his respectability, dis-
tracted the people's attention, discredited Fauchet
and the French Government, and gave back Washing-
ton his power over the public.
By his silence and his high-minded inflexibility he
had held his own against the unchained fury of the
'mob/
He was tired. The noise and excitement had worn
him out. He had never liked political quarrels. Now
they were odious to him and using up the last hours
of his life. The violent attack which the newspa-
pers had launched against him gave him bitter plea-
sure too bitter for an old man. It was time to go.
His friends insisted in vain, he refused to accept the
Presidency a third time.
270 GEORGE WASHINGTON
Had he not done all that there had been for him to
do, establish a strong central government, gather and
organize around him able men, who would understand,
represent and guide their country, win and hold the
West as a security and a bond of their union ? The
other cares he left to his successors.
Before departing, he gave a last and solemn admoni-
tion to the country. After having mentioned with
humble pride what he had accomplished for his fellow
citizens, he begged them to allow time to finish the
work, to protect sedulously their unity and the estab-
lished government, to avoid scrupulously the spirit of
parties and party strife, to remain Americans above
all else, to be friendly with other nations, but to remain
firmly attached to their own, which its vast waters
safeguarded so well. He told them that he could leave
them since he left them a continent.
THE RETURN TO THE LAND
And now General Washington was through. As he
left Philadelphia, the Vice-President, John Adams had,
with great difficulty, been elected by the Federalists to
succeed him. Washington retired to his estate at
Mount Vernon, among his slaves, his family and his
neighbours. There he found peace once more. In the
winter, the gazettes rarely came, and the state of the
roads protected him from visitors. His inner fever had
abated. For the first time since 1774, he felt at home.
And again on March 16, 1797, he wrote in his diary, as
in former times: 'At home all day alone. Wind at East
and very Cloudy all day/ Again he noted the
temperature day by day. 21 Again he opened his
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 271
hospitable house to travellers passing through the
country. But Mount Vernon was no longer invaded,
the ambitious no longer sought him. Again he superin-
tended the work of his fields. Washington had need to
do so, for he, the richest man of America, was short of
money. But he could no longer permit himself long
rounds across his farms. He would slowly trot on
horseback along the roads 'an old gentleman riding
alone in plain drab clothes, a broad-brimmed white
hat, a hickory switch in his hand, and carrying an um-
brella with a long staff. . . attached to his saddle-
bow../
Now and again he went on inspecting the progress
of the 'federal city' or he visited Philadelphia, where
he received the respectful welcome of the fashionable
Federalists and kept in touch with current affairs. He
had a final excitement; there was talk of a war with
France, and Adams begged him to be the Commander-
in-Chief. He accepted on condition that he join the
army on the day when they would have to go to war.
Besides, he did not think that there would be a war.
But, as formerly, he had all the trouble of war; the
jealousy of generals and officers, the ill-will of recruits,
the negligence of recruiters, the red tape of the govern-
ment offices. What was the date? 1753, 1758, 1775,
1782, or 1798 ? It did not matter; it was always his lot
to establish order where others had spread disorder.
He spent long hours in his library arranging his
papers; he made up his accounts; he jotted down notes
on various political pamphlets and succeeded in justi-
fying himself in his own eyes. He had more trouble in
justifying to himself 'Demos' whose vagaries were so
272 GEORGE WASHINGTON
annoying. He looked for reasons in his own mind. He,
too, needed to express and to debate to clear his
thoughts and explain himself. He never found this
agreeable, but he had become used to it. Now in his
shelter, he meditated on his past. He dreamed.
He was worried by rumours which reached him.
The Democratic Party was being organized and
strengthened. By a supreme insult of Fate, it domi-
nated Virginia. The Federalists were divided among
themselves. Hamilton against Adams, Adams against
Hamilton, but Adams chiefly against himself. Anxious
to smooth over difficulties, Washington discreetly
hinted to Adams that he would be glad to see him.
But the proud sage, more proud than wise, did not
respond, and Washington was left alone with his
lands.
He, in America, wrote to Sally a fading, ageing
widow, and she, in England, solitary and impover-
ished, was always the queen of his thoughts: 'Nothing/
he said, c has ever been able to eradicate from my mind
the recollection of those happy moments, the happiest
of my life, which I have enjoyed in your company/
He was tired, indeed. He noted c his declination'; he
wearily wrote in his diary once more: 'Commenced the
survey on 4 Mile Run.' 22 As in the old days, he 'dined
at Lord Fairfax's/ He went surveying, stooping over
the ground, to which he always returned.
On Thursday, December 12, 1799, Washington
went out to visit his farms, but he had scarcely started
when the weather became very bad, alternately rain-
ing and snowing. He returned at three and dined
without changing his clothes. The next day he com-
FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 273
plained of a sore throat and by evening he had become
very hoarse. He did not feel at all well.
Doctors came hurrying to Mount Vernon; his old
friend, Doctor Craik, as well as Doctor Brown and
Doctor Dick, had him bled. Everyone wept in the
house except Washington. On Saturday, December
14, 1799, at ten o'clock in the night, he died. 23
And suddenly the people of America, who had not
paid much attention to the bitter attacks made
against him during his lifetime, acclaimed him as the
Father of His Country.
He was buried in the ground of Virginia which he
had loved so dearly. And the American school-
children now make pilgrimages to his tomb on the
Potomac. They are told that he was a great Soldier,
a great President, a great Sage. They are told that he
was good, generous, untiring, disinterested, sub-
lime. And no doubt it is all true.
But the children are not told that he was the last of
the great land barons; that because of his love of land
he directed the United States to the West; that he
made great efforts to keep Americans from dispersing
their strength in discussing theories; that with all
his energy he had worked to give them a strong central
government in order to destroy their tendency to
quarrel among themselves; and that he had instructed
them to love their country above everything else.
The children are not told that he was the first of
the great modern politicians who had an infallible in-
stinct for public opinion and that this made him create
274 GEORGE WASHINGTON
a practical aristocracy which the United States needed,
while Adams and Hamilton completely failed in realiz-
ing their vain dreams of monarchy and nobility, and
Jefferson, in his democratic philosophy, was eclipsed
by a sterile triumph.
They are not told that had he lived a year longer he
would have seen the American people disavow him
and all his work by a solemn vote, and that without
doubt he would have entered into a tragic conflict with
Jefferson. The snow, wind, and rain of Virginia and
the doctors at Mount Vernon, in their cruel wisdom,
had done well by George Washington.
The children are not told all this. But it does not
matter, since he has left them all that he cared for, all
that is needed to teach them: the continent of America,
the land of Virginia.
THE END
SOURCES AND NOTES
SOURCES
THE sources of information for the life and time of George
Washington are innumerable. Under the name of 'Wash-
ington/ the card catalogues of the Library of Congress, the
Library of Harvard University, the New York Public Li-
brary, the Library of the British Museum, the Bibliotheque
Nationale give hundreds of titles. To classify them would
be a life's work. I am only giving here the principal sources
on which I actually based my conclusions, and the refer-
ences for my quotations.
The most important source, of course, is the large body
of the writings of Washington.
I. WRITINGS OF WASHINGTON
The Writings of George Washington, edited by Jared
Sparks, 12 volumes, 1837.
The Writings of George Washington, edited by Worthing-
ton Chauncey Ford, 14 volumes, 1889-1893.
The Diaries of George Washington, edited, by John C.
Fitzpatrick, 4 volumes, 1925.
List of Washington Manuscripts. . . 1592-1775, edited by
John C. Fitzpatrick, 1919.
Calendar of the Correspondence of George Washington,
edited by John C. Fitzpatrick, 4 volumes, 1915.
John C. Fitzpatrick: George Washington: Colonial Travel-
ler, Indianapolis, 1927. (Contains many very curious and
accurate details taken from unpublished Washington
papers.)
II. BIOGRAPHIES AND ESSAYS
John Marshall: Life of Washington, 5 volumes, 1804.
(The first one, giving the traditional point of view.)
278 SOURCES
Henry Cabot Lodge: George Washington, 2 volumes, 1889,
(A very fine piece of work.)
Charles Moore: The Family Life of George Washington,
Boston, 1926. (A most interesting and stimulating group
of studies on Washington and his surroundings, filled with
new material.)
Rupert Hughes: George Washington, 3 volumes, 1926,
1927, 1930. This much-discussed and criticized work is,
really, a very fine achievement. Mr. Hughes has studied a
great deal of material and has used it with acute curiosity
and honesty. Even those who cannot sympathize with his
attitude have to acknowledge that his point of view is sin-
cere, his work thorough, and his book exceedingly stimulat-
ing.
III. MANUSCRIPT SOURCES
There are still many unpublished documents and data
on Washington.
The most interesting are to be found at the Library of
Congress in Washington, D.C.; at the Huntington Library
(in Pasadena, California); at the Clements Library (Ann
Arbor, Michigan) ; in the Public Record Office (London) ;
and in the Archives of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in
Paris.
NOTES
INTRODUCTION
1. The quotation is taken from Voyage de M. le Chevalier dc
Chastellux, Paris, 1785, I, 119-21.
2. Quotation taken from Chateaubriand: Memoires d* Outre
tombe, Edition Bire, I, 360.
CHAPTER I
1. The description of Virginia is based upon The Planters of
Colonial Virginia, by Thomas Jefferson Wertenbaker, 1922;
The American Colonies, by Marcus Wilson Jernegan, 1929;
American Colonies, by Reuben G. Thwaites, New York,
1902; The Colonial Period \ by Charles M. L. Andrews, New
York, 1912; Herbert L. Osgood: The American Colonies in
the Eighteenth Century ', New York, 1924, 4 volumes; Chandler
Thames: Colonial Virginia, Richmond, 1907; Philip Alex-
ander Bruce: Social Life In Virginia in the Seventeenth
Century, Lynchburg, 1927; and a careful reading of the
southern newspapers of the eighteenth century, more
especially the Virginia Gazettes (Rind, Purdie, Dixon, etc.).
2. Quotations from Virgo Triumphant, 1650, quoted in Pas-
quet: Histoire des Etats Unis, I, 129.
3. Conditions on board the ships which carried immigrants, see
Pasquet, 131-34; Jernegan, 56-58.
4. These figures are taken from Jernegan, 56-58, 86, 87. On the
importation of criminals in Virginia, see A. Wyatt Tilby : The
American Colonies, Boston, 1916, 197. On indenture and
indentured servants, see Pasquet, 134-385 Jernegan, 97.
5. On the life of women in Virginia, see Marion Harland: Some
Colonial Homesteads, New York, 1899. On the social and
economical evolution in Virginia between 1620 and 1740,
see Wertenbaker, 150-58; Jernegan, 86-100.
6. The figures concerning landholders are taken from Charles
Moore, 31; Pasquet, 203; Jernegan, 338; concerning slave-
holders, Wertenbaker, 157-58; Jernegan, 358-60.
280 NOTES
7. The quotation is taken from A. Wyatt Tilby, 200.
8. On the establishment of the Washingtons in Virginia and
their life, Charles Moore, 15-19; Fitzpatrick: George Wash-
ington^ Colonial Traveller, 1-5; Rupert Hughes, I, 1-15,
Writings of Washington (Ford), XIV, 391-96; Diaries of
Washington, I, 138, etc.
9. Will of Augustine Washington: Writings (Ford), XIV, 410-
I 5-
10. On the Fairfaxes, see Moore, 29-31.
11. On the education of George Washington, see Moore, 28;
Diaries, I, 2, 12, 22, 36, 136; Fitzpatrick; Washington,
Colonial Traveller, 4-8, etc.
12. The rules of civility are quoted from George Washington's
Rules of Civility, edited by Charles Moore, 1920.
13. The quotation is taken from Writings (Ford), I, 2.
14. The quotation is taken from Writings (Ford), 1, 3; the other
from id., 5.
1 5. Washington's earnings, see Fitzpatrick; Washington, Colonial
Traveller, 17-33.
16. See Diaries, I, 16, 17, 21-27.
17. Death of Lawrence and inheritance: Diaries, I, 138, II, 2;
Paul Leland Haworth: George Washington, Country Gentle-
man (formerly George Washington, Farmer), i-io, etc.
CHAPTER II
1. Quotations and anecdote taken from Bonneville de Mar-
sangy: Le Chevalier de Vergennes, I, 37-38, 66-67.
2. Quotation of Voltaire: Voltaire: Candide, Edition Morize,
Paris, 1913, 170, and letters of Voltaire dated February
29, 1756; March 23, 1757, etc. Quotation of Rouill6:
Ministdre des Affaires Etrangfres, Correspondance Politique,
Angleterre, vol. 438, folio 282.
3. On the origin of the Seven Years' War, see id., folios 20-30,
386-400, 1 22-25, etc.; Osgood, IV, 77-80, 222-25, 287-89, etc.
4. On the Lemoyne brothers, see La Roncifere: Une pop$e
Canadienne, Paris, 1930. On the mistakes of the maps, and
the difficulty of understanding the geography of the Ohio
Valley, see Ministire des Affaires Etrang%res y Correspondance
Politique, Angleterre, vol. 438, dispatch from Mirepoix,
Jan. 16, 1755, folios 1-20.
NOTES 281
5. 'Black Islands/ see Writings (Ford), I, 15-16.
6. On the Indian Wars, see Osgood, IV, 265-70. On the Crow
warrior, Writings (Ford), II, 24.
7. On Dinwiddie, see Osgood, IV, 221-30.
8. On Betsy Fauntleroy, see Writings (Ford), I, 9.
9. Quotation from Diaries, I, 43.
10. Quotation from Diaries, I, 59.
n. Quotations from Diaries, I, 61 and 66.
12. Quotation from Pennsylvania Gazette, February 5, 1754;
Boston News Letter, March 7, 1754.
13. On the death of Jumonville, see Gazette d? Amsterdam, July
2 3> 1754; Writings (Ford), I, 80-92; Writings (Sparks), II,
449-60; Hughes, I, 80-1 10; Ministers des Affaires Etrangeres,
vol. 437, folio 292, vol. 438, folios 20-25.
14. Quotation from Writings (Ford), I, 84.
15. The Campaign of 1754, see Hughes, I, 113-52; Gazette
Amsterdam, September 23, 1754; Thomas: Jumonville,
pp. i-vi; Writings (Ford), I.
16. Quotation from Ministers des Affaires Etrangeres, vol. 438,
folios 21-22.
17. Criticism and praises of Washington, see Thomas: Jumon-
ville, passim; Writings (Sparks), II, 465; Boston News Letter,
September 5, 1754.
18. Quotation from Writings (Sparks), II, 465.
19. Quotation from Writings (Ford), I, 139.
20. The Braddock expedition, see Hughes, I, 205-69, 531-38;
Writings (Ford), I, 130-200. On Washington's health at
that time, Writings (Ford), I, 150-54.
21. The quotation is from Writings (Ford), I, 155.
22. The quotation is from Writings (Ford), I, 166, 167.
23. Attitude of the French Government: Ministere des Affaires
Etrangeres, vol. 439, folios 317-30.
24. Quotation from Writings (Ford), 1, 90. See also the Loudoun
Papers at the Huntington Library.
25. For Washington's popularity in America and Europe after
1755, see Almanack of N. Ames, Boston, 1756 and 1763;
Gazette Amsterdam, October 24, 1755; Courrier d* Avignon,
November 4 and 11, 1755; A Short History in Miniatures of
the Origin and Progress of the Late War from its Commence-
ment to the Exchange of the Ratification of Peace, London,
1765 (?), etc.
NOTES
26. Quotation: Writings (Ford), I, 197. The details on the be-
haviour of the militia taken from Writings (Ford), I, 264,
274, 278, 282-83, 291, 303, 331, 350, 374, 427, etc.
27. The details on the Dagworthy-Washington quarrel are taken
from id., I, 205-08, 209, 211, 215, 224-27.
28. See Fitzpatrick: George Washington, Colonial Traveller, 91-
9 6 -
29. The aristocratic attitude of Washington: Writings (Ford),
I, 181.
30. Quotation: id., I, 331. The dissatisfaction of the Assembly
concerning the troops, id., I, 245, 255, 406, and Hughes, I.
31. Quotations: Writings (Ford), I, 375, 376.
32. Quotations: id., 315, 350. On the amount of money paid to
the soldiers, id., I, 315-17.
33. On deserters, see id., I, 282, 326, 335, 458, 462, 465, 471,
477, 500.
34. Quotations: id., I, 394-458.
35. Quotation: id., I, 477.
36. Quotations: id., 281, 312, 313.
37. Quotations: id., I, 97, 384, 3&9-
38. Quotations: id., I, 397, 398, 403.
39. Quotation: id., I, 446.
40. Quotation: id., I, 486.
41. Quotation: id., I, 486, 487.
42. Quotation: id., I, 495.
43. Quotations: id., II, 72, 84, 85.
44. Quotations: id., II, 101, 104, 109.
CHAPTER III
1 . On the great love affair of Washington, see the very fine pages
of John Corbin in his Unknown Washington, 1929.
2. Quotation taken from Corbin, 61.
3. On Martha Custis, see Ann H. Wharton: Martha Washing-
ton, 1897.
4. Quotations: Corbin, 66-68.
5. The life at Mount Vernon and Belvoir, see Diaries, I, 109,
123, 140, 141, 246, 247, 262, 284, 291, 300, 307, 328, 346,
361, 377> 387, 453; II, 3, 8, 14, 30, 61, 68, 71, 106, no, 117,
etc.
6. Quotation: Corbin, 67-68.
NOTES 283
7. Washington's worries, Writings (Ford), II, 201, 205. Debts:
id.y II, 189; Diaries, I, 130.
8. Washington and French: Diaries, 1, 107, no, in; Washing-
ton and the Oysterman: id., 108, 109; Washington and
J, Ballendine: id., 109; Washington and Stephen: id., 118;
quotation on the ball: id., 126; Washington and Clifton: id.,
I35> I37i 140-
9. Washington and Laurie: id., 151 ; angry letters to his London
agents, Writings, dated August 10, 1760, and September 28,
1760; Washington and Cocke; Diaries, I, 112.
10. Quotation: Writings (Ford), II, 472.
11. Writings (Ford), II, 404, 408, 446, etc.
12. Quotation: Haworth, 2-3.
13. See Diaries, passim, vol. II.
14. Washington and land; Diaries, I, 119-72, 318, 319, 427-50,
etc.; Writings (Ford), II, 176, 218-24,372, 373, 388, 392,
446-50, 461-62; Haworth, 936, etc.
15. Quotations: Writings (Ford), XI, 341; Haworth, 2, 3.
1 6. See my Franklin, Book III.
17. Quotations: Washington and Askew, Writings (Ford), VI,
187; Washington and Posey: id., VI, 226-30; Washington
and Dal ton: id., VI, 364-66; Washington and Weggener:
id., VI, 369-70; Washington and Black: id., VI, 398, 403;
Quotation: Washington and Muse: Corbin, 43-44; Washing-
ton and the officers of the French and Indian War: Diaries,
I, 391, II, 9, 37-39, 84; Writings (Ford), II, 272-75, 324-28,
339-47, 351-54, 356-62, 366, 371, 386-88, 394-408, 465-
69.
1 8. Quotation: Moore, 73.
19. Washington and the Crown, see Fitzpatrick: Washington:
Colonial Traveller, 240.
20. Quotation: Writings (Ford), II, 434, 435.
21. Quotations: Diaries (March 10, 1775); II, 179; Writings
(Sparks), II, 466.
CHAPTER IV
1. For the conditions in America in 1775-76, see my Franklin,
Book IV (beginning).
2. Washington in Philadelphia in 1775, see Fitzpatrick:
Washington: Colonial Traveller, last pages, and Diaries, II,
162-68, I95-99-
284 NOTES
3. Choice of Washington as Commander-in-Chief, see Corbin,
137, 202, 205; Hughes, II, 2,34-56. Quotation: Writings
(Ford), II, 484-
4. Quotations: id., II, 485, 491-92, 500-01.
5. Quotation: id., II, 501-02.
6. On the conditions of the American Army in 1775-76, see the
excellent book of Charles Martyn on Artemas Ward, passim,
and especially, 150-60; Writings (Ford), III, passim, and es-
pecially 28-36, 44-48, 67, 73; Hughes, II, 283, 295, III, 68,
72, etc.
7. Quotation, Charles Martyn, 151-53. On Washington's hopes
and plans: Writings, (Ford), III, 114, 145, etc.
8. Unrest of the Army; Hughes, II, 283, Writings (Ford), III,
90-99, 340-44, Writings (Sparks), III, 200. Washington and
the offensive, Writings (Ford), III, 114, 145, 197, 415, 425-
27, etc.
9. Washington and politics: Writings (Ford), III, 44, 75, IV,
105-07.
10. Howe. See my Franklin, Book III; and the Germain papers
at the Clements Library.
11. Washington and New York, Writings, (Ford), III, 315; IV,
47-48.
12. Howe and Burgoyne in America. See Germain papers and
Clinton papers, Clements Library. On Washington's ideas
and intentions, see Writings (Ford), V, 502, 514, 518, 519,
etc.
13. Quotations: Writings (Ford), V, 251; Hughes, II, 295 (Let-
ter of Washington of Jan. 31, 1777); III, 68.
14. On Turgot and America, see my Franklin, Book IV.
15. Washington at his headquarters, see Chastellux, I, 110-18,
16. See Writings (Ford), IX, 200-314.
17. See Writings (Ford), IX 330-97; Writings (Sparks), VIII,
528-36; Hughes III, passim.
1 8. Quotation: Hughes III, 672.
19. Quotation: Writings (Ford), X, 21, 22.
20. Quotations: Writings (Ford), X, 163-66; Writings (Sparks),
VIII, 388-89.
21. Quotation: Writings (Sparks), VIII, 551-66; Washington
and the officers: Corbin, 223-525 Writings (Ford), X, 165-
84.
aa. Washington's ideas, see Writings (Sparks), VIII, 300, 317,
NOTES 285
345, 418-20, IX, 34, 62-64, 119, 156, 173, 188, 198-200, 218,
247, 358, X, 69, 70, 89, 306, etc.
CHAPTER V
1. Gifts made to Washington, visits at Mount Vernon, see
Diaries, passim (years 1785-86). Quotations, Writings
(Sparks), IX, 1-2, 166.
2. Washington and his trees, see Diaries, passim (years 1785-
8 7 ).
3. Quotation: Diaries, II, 317.
4. Quotation: Diaries, II, 317.
5. See the very good description and analysis of the 1785-89
period in Corbin; The Reaper and his Scythe, 276-312.
6. Washington and the Cincinnati, Writings (Ford), XI, 86,
Writings (Sparks), XI, 213. See also my Franklin, Book III;
and my article on 'Franklin et Mirabeau, collaborateurs,'
Revue de Litterature Comparee, January-March, 1928.
7. Quotation i Writings (Sparks), IX, 265. On the ship Federal-
ist see Diaries, III, 393.
8. Quotation: Writings (Sparks).
9. Washington's fears in 1789, see Corbin, 411-12.
10. Washington's exercises, Diaries, IV, 129-43,^0.^/772.
11. Quotation: Diaries, IV, 19 and following.
12. Hancock and Washington, Diaries, IV, 31-37.
13. Quotations, see Diaries, IV, at the mentioned dates.
14. Quotation: Chateaubriand: Mtmoires d" Outre tombe (Edi-
tion Bir6), I, 358.
15. Quotations: Writings (Sparks), X, 104, Writings (Ford),
XI, 498. Washington and the key of the Bastille, Chateau-
briand, id., 359-60; Haworth, 277, etc.
16. See my Revolutionary Spirit, Chapter IV, 243-329.
17. On Genet, see papers at the Library of Congress; and Minis-
tere des Affaires Etrangfres, Correspondance Politique, Etats
Unis.
1 8. Washington and Paine: Writings (Ford), III, 396; quota-
tion: Writings (Ford), XIII, 361.
19. Quotation: B. F. Bache: Remarks occasioned by the late Con-
duct of Mr. Washington... pp. 62-65, Philadelphia, 1797.
20. On the Jay Treaty, see my Esprit Rfaolutionnaire, 242-57;
and the excellent book of Mr. Bemis, The Jay Treaty. See
286 NOTES
also the manuscript sources at the Public Record Office in
London; the Library of Congress; and the Ministere des
Affaires Etrangeres.
21. Quotations: Diaries y IV, 255; Haworth, 309.
22. Quotations: Diaries, IV, 301; Writings (Ford), XIII, 191.
23. Diaries, IV, 320.
INDEX
INDEX
Adams, John, defends English officers,
164; moral crises of, 166; uncertain
position of, 172; influential in the
naming of Washington Commander-
in-Chief, 175; political sense of, 189;
leaves Congress, 217; in London,
239; prefers aristocratic republic,
245; Vice-President, 252, 257; elected
President, 270; and Hamilton, 272,
274
Adams, Samuel, 172, 173, 268
Aix-la-Chapelle, Treaty of (1748), 53
Aliquippa, Queen, 70, 78
Allen, Judge, 174
Alton, J., Washington's groom, 103
Annapolis Convention, 229
Anti-Federalists, and Federalists, 259
Anville, Jean Baptiste B., 55
Appleton, Capt. John, his widow mar-
ried to John Washington, 22
Argenson, Marquis d', French Minister
for Foreign Affairs, 50
Aristocracy, in Europe, 2; in England,
2,3, 156, 157, 163, 164, 179, 187; an
independent, 3; American, 10, 152-
57, 163, 164, 166, 179, 187; national,
223, 246
Armand, Col. (Marquis de la RoueVie),
201, 255
Arnold, Benedict, heroism of, 183; in
Virginia, 199; his treason, 207
Askew, carpenter, 158
'Aurora, The/ 265, 268
Austrian Succession, War of, 29
Aylett, Ann, marries Augustine Wash-
ington (2), 27
Bache, Benjamin Franklin, 268
Ball, Mary, marries Augustine Wash-
ington (i), 24, 25
Balladine, John, 141
Barbadoes, 46, 47
B arras, Admiral, in American Revolu-
tion, 208, 211
Beaujeu, French chief, m attack on
Braddock, 96
'Belvoir/ estate of Fairfaxes, 30, 33,
4i, 130. J 33, *37> ify, 226
Berkeley, Norborne, Baron of Bote-
tourt, 151, 1 60
Berkeley, Sir Thomas, Governor of
Virginia, 9, 23
Bingham, financier, 239, 241, 256, 266
Bishop, T., Washington's groom, 103
Black, William, 159
Blainville, C61oron de, ordered to recon-
noitre Ohio country, 66
Boston, siege of, 183, 184; visited by
Washington, 249-51
Boston Massacre, 164
Bouquet, Col., 113; his plan of advance
on Fort Duquesne, 122-26
Boutet, French Charge" d'Affaires in
London, 85
Braddock, Gen. Edward, his campaign,
91-96, 99, loo
Brandy wine, battle of the, 196, 197
Brissot de Warville, 227
Brown, Dr., in attendance on Wash-
ington, 273
Browne, Rev. Samuel William, of
Alexandria, 232
'Bullskin Plantation/ property of
Washington, 45
Burgoyne, John, his plan of campaign,
1777, 194-96; defeated at Saratoga,
197
Butler, Jane, marries Augustine Wash-
ington (i), 24
Byrd, Col. William, 17
Byrd, William II, 14, 18
Byrds, the, 13, 22
Calvert, Miss, 163
290
INDEX
Camden, battle of, 199
Canada, 52, 56
Carleton, Sir Guy, British soldier, 194
Carolina Company, commander Capt.
Mackay, 79, 80
Cartagena, attack on (1741), 29
Cary, Col., 130
Cary, Sally, married to George William
Fairfax, 128-30. See also Fairfax,
Mrs. George William
Castiglioni, M. le Comte, 227
Catawbas, the, 66
Catholics, in English colonies, 63
Cavaliers, in Virginia, 21
Chappedelaine, Marquis de, 227
Charleston, capture of, by British, 199
Chastellux, Marquis de, French general
in American Revolution, 266, 267
Chateaubriand, Chevalier de, calls on
Washington, 254, 255
Chatham, Lady, 51
Chichester, Mr., 148
Chotank, home of Washington cousins
of George Washington, 33, 41, 65
Cincinnati, Society of the, 222, 236,
?37> 2 39
Clinton, George, Governor of New
York, 226
Clinton, Sir Henry, British soldier, 198,
199, 207-14
Cocke, Col, 142
Colvil, Thomas, 148
Constitution, the new (Constitution of
the United States), 241, 242, 245, 246
Constitutional Convention, 241, 242
Continental Army, men of, did not
consider themselves soldiers, 180
Continental Congress, 175, 216, 217
Contrecoeur, French soldier, com-
mander of Fort Duquesne, 86
Conway, Thomas, 204
Corbin, Col. Richard, 119-21
Cornwallis, Lord, 199, 209-14
' Courier d' Avignon,' 100
Craik, Dr., in attendance on Wash-
ington, 273
Creek Indians, at war with the Cataw-
bas, 66
Cresap, CoL, 54
Croghan, George, 61, 98, 99
Crump, Turner, overseer, 145
Cumberland, Fort, 101, 102, 115-19
Currin, Barnaby, woodsman, 68
Custis, Jacky, 163
Custis, Martha, married to George
Washington, 133-36. See also Wash-
ington, Mrs. George
Custis, Patsy, death, 167
Dagworthy, Capt, 101, 102, 104
Daingerfield, Mr., his wealth, 15
Dalton, Capt., 158
Declaration of Independence, 187, 188,
191
Democratic Party, 272
Dick, Dr., in attendance on Washing-
ton, 273
Dickinson, John, 164, 166, 172, 174
Dinwiddie, Robert, Governor of Vir-
ginia, interested in the Ohio Com-
pany, 48; meets Washington, 48, 63;
sends Washington into Ohio country,
66, 67; Washington makes report to,
76, 79; and Capt, Mackay, 79; fooled
by Washington, 86; defends Wash-
ington, 88; confers empty favor on
Washington, 88, 89; allows Wash-
ington to go to Boston, 1 02; Wash-
ington's correspondence with, 105;
Washington's conflict with, 113-21;
his promise to Indians, 160
Du Coudray, in charge of artillery in
American Revolutionary War, 201
Dumas, French officer, 96
Dunbar, Col., 93, 96
Du Portail, French officer, in American
Revolutionary War, 201
Duquesne, Fort, 75, 89; Braddock's
march on, 92-94; Bouquet's and
Washington's plans of attack on,
1 22-25 ; entered by English troops, 1 26
Eckeridge, George, guardian of Mary
Ball, 30
Emigrants, transportation of, in seven-
teenth and eignteenth centuries, 6
England, aristocracy in, 2, 3, 156, 157,
163, 164, 179, 187; in sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, 5; commer-
cial rivalry with France, 50-52;
INDEX
291
forbids colonization west of the
Alleghenies, 154. See also French
and English War; Revolutionary
War; West
English, and Indians, 60-62
English colonies, their desire for new
land, 56; rival territorial claims of,
62; Governors and colonial assem-
blies in, 62; lack of effective military
organization in, 63; Catholics in, 63;
Quakers in, 63
Fairfax, Ann, marries Lawrence Wash-
ington (3), 27, 30
Fairfax, Bryan, 148, 166
Fairfax, Ferdinand, son of Bryan, 148
Fairfax, George, 54
Fairfax, George William, 42, 129-33,
137
Fairfax, Mrs. George William (Sally
Gary), 90, 100, 128-37, 167, 272
Fairfax, Lord, 14, 40, 42, 46
Fairfax, Hon. William, 27, 115; death,
133
Fairfaxes, the, 25, 30, 33, 41, 44, 64,
129, 144, 167
Fauchet, French Minister, 269
Fauntleroy, Betsy, 65, 132
Federalists, and Anti-Federalists, 259
Feudalism, in Virginia, 4-6, 10, 13,
.*5 2
Fisher, Mayor of Philadelphia, 174
Fitzhugh, Col., 90
Forbes, John, British soldier, 124
Fort le Boeuf, French fort, 69, 77
France, in sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries, 5; commercial rivalry with
England, 50-52; its claim to the
Ohio country, 54, 55
Franklin, Benjamin, 34, 35, 40, 139,
164, 172, 188, 193, 203, 204, 205, 217,
238, 239, 241, 262; a Freemason, 65;
defends Washington, 88, 99; moral
crisis of, 1 66; his plan of settling
difficulties with England, 170, 175;
his view of the Revolution, 173;
political sense of, 189; his view of the
Cincinnati, 222, 236; in Constitu-
tional Convention, 242
Frederick the Great, 35, 139
Fredericksburg, Virginia, 26
Freemasonry, 64, 65
French, and Indians, 60, 61; hasten to
establish claims in Ohio region, 66;
construct chain of forts from Canada
to the Ohio, 66; surprise English at
fork of Ohio, 72, 77; in American
Revolutionary War, 202, 205, 210-12
French and Indian War, 153, 158, 159.
See also Seven Years' War
French trappers, their desire for new
lands, 56
Gage, Thomas, 183
Gale, George, marries Mrs. Lawrence
Washington, 24
Gates, Horatio, at Saratoga, 197, 207;
beaten by Rawdon, 202; and Con-
gress, 204; in plot, 219, 220, 222
' Gazette de France/ 100
Genet, Edme, 260-63
George III, 51, 1 86, 187
Germain, Lord George, Secretary of
State for the Colonies, 194, 195, 202
German town, battle of, 197
Germany, in seventeenth century, 5
Gist, Christopher, Washington's guide
into Ohio country, 61, 68, 70, 78
Glen, English agent for South Caro-
lina, 6 1
Grant, Major, 125
Grasse, Count de, in American Revolu-
tionary War, 208-12
Graves, in American Revolutionary
War, 211, 214
Great Meadows, 73, 80, 87-89
Green, Charles, vicar, 25
Greene, Nathaniel, 201, an, 219; at
Guilford Court House, 199; at Cam-
den, 199
Guilford Court House, 199
Hamilton, Alexander, 223, 238, 239,
241, 245; in plot, 218; Secretary of
the Treasury, 252; and Jefferson,
257-60; and Adams, 272, 274
Hammond, George, English Minister
to United States, 266, 267, 269
Hanbury family of London, 54, 56, 63,
7 1
INDEX
Hancock, John, 164, 173, 217; Gov-
ernor of Massachusetts, entertains
Washington, 249-51
Hanson, Col. Samuel, 232
Hardwick, overseer, 140, 142
Hawkins, Jesuit, 37
Helvetius, Madame, 303
Henry, Patrick, 165, 172
Hog, Capt. Peter, 72
Houdon, 227
Howe, Lord, 187
Howe, Sir William, 183, 184; his cam-
paign, Aug.-Dec., 1776, 187-90; his
difficulties, 191, 193; his plan of cam-
paign, 1777, 194-96; takes Phila-
delphia, 196, 197
Indentured servants, 10
Independent Company of Richmond
County, chooses Washington as its
leader, 1 68
Indians, 8, 9, 22, 23; their dancing, 43,
44; in warfare, 58-60; and French,
60, 61; and English, 60-62; war be-
tween Creeks and Catawbas, 66; in
Seven Years' War, 72-95
Indians of the Five Nations, 54
Jamestown, Virginia, 16
Jay, John, 217, 239, 241, 245; Secretary
of Foreign Affairs of Congress, 238;
appointed Chief Justice of the Su-
preme Court, 252; his mission to
England, 262
Jay Treaty, 266-69
Jefferson, Thomas, 166, 217, 239, 262;
opposed to the Cincinnati, 236; Sec-
retary of State, 252; and Hamilton,
257-60
Jenifer, Col., 226
Jenkins, William, Washington's serv-
ant, 68
Johnson, Capt., 45
Johnson, English agent for NewYork, 61
Joncaire, Capt., entertains Washington
at Vanengo, 69, 71
Jumonville, de, Capt., the slaying of,
74-77, 80, 85, 86, 97
Knox, Henry, 201, 241; in plot, 219,
222; Secretary of War, 252
La Fayette, Marquis de, in the Ameri-
can Revolutionary War, 199, 201,
204, 205, 209, 21 1, 212, 226, 227, 242,
255, 256, 266, 267
La Luzerne, Chevalier de, 205, 208, 226
Laurens, Henry, 217
Laurens, John, 205, 208
Lawrie, Dr., 142
Lee, Ann Fairfax, cedes usufruct of
Mount Vernon to Washington for
annual income, 49; death, 49
Lee, Anna, sister-in-law of Washington,
149
Lee, Charles, 179, 189; captured by the
English, 193; dismissal of, 202; at
Monmouth, 206
Lee, Col., marries Ann Fairfax Wash-
ington, 48
Lee, Henry, 226
Lee, Thomas, 54
Lees, the, 217
Le Gardcur de Saint-Pierre, Col.,
French commander in charge of Fort
le Boeuf, 69, 71
Lemoyne brothers, 56
Lexington, battle of, 169
Liberty, a new conception of, 3
Lincoln, Benjamin, Gen., 226; capitula-
tion of, 199
Lisle, M. de, 55
Little Meadows, council of war called
by Braddock at, 93; retreat to, 96
'London Magazine,' 97
Loudoun, Gen. Earl of, 98, 99, 113
Louis XV, 50
Louisiana, 56
Lydius, mentioned m connection with
treason, 98, 99
MacCracken, James, 45
McCrae, Mr., 142
Machault, M. de, French financier, 50
Mackay, Capt., 79, 80, 84, 87
MacQuire, John, woodsman, 68
Madison, James, 238
Marye, Rev., teacher, 31
Mason, George, 162
Matthews, David, Mayor of New York,
Mazzei, 227
INDEX
293
Mercer, Capt. G., aide-de-camp to
Washington, 103
Mirabeau, Marquis de, 143, 236
Mirepoix, Duke of, French Ambassador
to England, 53, 55, 85, 86, 97
Mississippi forts, held by England, 237,
246, 247
Monakatoocha, 68, 74, 78
Monarchy, 2
Monceau, Ensign, 75
Monmouth, battle of, 198, 206
Montesquieu, M. de, 3
Montour, Capt., 61, 78
Morris, Robert, 174, 208, 223, 238, 239,
241, 245, 256; Secretary of Treasury,
215, 218
Morris, Gouverneur, 218, 226, 238, 239,
245, 252
Morris town, 201, 205
'Mount Vernon,' 30, 41, 133, 137,
162, 163, 225, 226, 231, 270; becomes
property of George Washington, 48,
49; important centre of society, 238
Murray, James, Earl of Dunmore, 151,
1 60
Muse, Battaile, 159, 227
Necessity, Fort, capitulation of, 81-84,
8 ?> 88
Negro slaves, beginning of introduction
of, into America, 13; in Virginia, 13-
15
Nelson, Thomas, 54
Nelson, William, 64
New England, the colonists of, 4, 5;
ports of, 10; Assemblies in, u;
employments and posts open to the
young in, 15; at the beginning of the
Revolution, 170, 171; town meetings
in, 171; Washington's reception in,
180, 181, 184
New York, the war around, 184-90
New York Assembly, address of, to
Washington, 177
Newcastle, Duke of, English Prime
Minister, 51, 86, 97
Newport, repulse ojf French and Amer-
icans at, 198
Nicola, Lewis, suggests coup <Ttat to
Washington, 218
Noailles, 266
Norfolk, Virginia, 152
Ogle, Mr., 226
'Ohio Company,' 122, 123; organized,
46, 48; favourably looked upon in
London, 63; moves to secure gains,
65-67; decides to build fort, 72
Ohio country, the contest for, 53
Otis, James, 172
Page, Mann, his wealth, 15
Paine, Thomas, 239, 255; against Wash-
ington, 264, 265
Peale, C. W., 227
Penn, Thomas, 66
Penns, the, 63
Philadelphia, in 1775, 169, 170; taken
by British, 196, 197
'Philadelphia Gazette,' account of
Washington's mission to the Ohio
country in, 70, 71
Philipse, Miss, 132
Pickavillany, trading centres near, 66
Pitt, William, 51
Plantations, in Virginia, II, 16, 144-46
Pope, Ann, marries John Washington,
22
Pope, Nathaniel, Lieutenant-Governor
of Virginia, 22
Posey, Capt., 158, 162
Potomac Company, 237
Powell, William, overseer, 145
Princeton, battle of, 193
Principo Company of Virginia, The,
25,26
Pulaski, K., 201
Putnam, Israel, 222
Quakers, in English colonies, 63
Ramsay, William, 148
Randolph, Edmund J., Secretary of
State in Washington's Cabinet, 266;
compromised, 269
Rawdon, Lord, 199, 202
Reed, Joseph, 182
Regiment of Virginia, 105
Republicans, 265
Revolutionary War: divergent im-
294
INDEX
pulses, 170-73; a rallying centre
needed, 173; was a profound feeling
crystallized in Washington, 174; the
evacuation of Boston, 175-84; Amer-
ican army and navy, 181-83, 185,
200-07; aroun( i New York and in
New Jersey (Aug.~Dec. 1776), 184-
93; the winter and spring, 1776-77,
193, 194; campaigns of Howe and
Burgoyne, 194-96; capture of Phila-
delphia, 196; battle of Saratoga, 197;
successes of the British, 198, 199; re-
sults of English policy, 199, 200;
France in, 202, 205; military ex-
penditures, 202; American attitude
toward, 202, 203; condition of af-
fairs in first half of 1781, 207, 208;
contemplated campaign of 1781,
208, 209; Yorktown, 209-15
Rhoades, Amphyllis, 21
Rind's 'Gazette/ 166
Ringgold, Thomas, 163
Robinson, Minister for the Colonies in
England, 85, 86
Robinson, John, President of the Vir-
ginia Assembly, 113, 115, 116
Rochambeau, Comte de, 204-06, 208,
211, 266, 267
Rodney, George B., British Admiral,
210
Rouill6, M., French Minister for For-
eign Affairs, 50, 52, 85
Rousseau, J. J., 34, 35, 139, 143
' Rules of Conduct and Politeness, The,'
37-39
Saint-Pierre. See Le Gardeur de Saint-
Pierre
Saint Simon, M. de, 210
Saratoga, battle of, 197
Savannah, capture of, 198
Seven Years' War, 52, 53, 56-58, 97-
126
Sharpe, Governor of Maryland, 90, 102
Shays's Rebellion, 240
Shingiss, King of the Delawares, 68, 79
Shippen, Dr., 174
Shippen, Joseph, Secretary of the
Provincial Council, 174
Shirley, William, Governor of Massa-
chusetts, Commander-in-Chief of
the English forces in the colonies,
1 02, 104
Spanish Succession, War of, 13
'Spectator,' 40
Stamp Act, 164, 165
Stanwix, John, 113
Stephen, Col., 162
Stephens, Lieut., his account of the
battle of Great Meadows, 88
Steuben, Baron von, 201
Steward, Henry, servant of Washing-
ton, 68
Sullivan, John, 189
Tanacharisson, Half King of the Seneca
Indians, 68, 73, 74, 7 8 > 79
Tarleton, Sir B annas tre, at Waxhaw,
199
Tellez, Pedro, 226
Thomas, poet, 97
Tobacco, Virginian, 12, 13
Town meetings, in New England, 171
Trent, Regimental Major, 88
Trenton, battle of, 193
Tryon, William, Governor of New
York, 185
Turgot, M., 203
Utrecht, Treaty of (1714), 53> 54> 55
Valley Forge, 201, 216
Van Braam, instructs George Washing-
ton in fencing, 40; interpreter, 67,
68, 72, 77, 83, 87, 88
Van Der Kemp, Francis, 227
Vaughan, Samuel, 226
Venengo, French post, 68
Vernon, Edward, Admiral, 27, 48
Vestrymen, n
Villiers, Coulon de, Jumonville's
brother, defeats Washington at Fort
Necessity, 81-84
Virginia, the colonists of, 3-5; feudal-
ism of, 4-6, 10, 13, 152; conditions
in, on arrival of early colonists, 7, 8;
early government of, 9; character of
early settlers, 9, 10; aristocracy in,
10, 152-57; classes in, 10; the Gover-
nor, II; plantations, 11, 16, 144-46;
INDEX
295
House of Burgesses, n, 161; vestry-
men, ii; the gentleman in, 12; tobac-
co, 12,; marriage, 13; negro slaves, 13
15; suppression of small holders, 14;
the great lords of, 14, 15, 18; large
families, 15, 17; the clergy in, 15, 16;
professions in, 16; life of the planter
in, 1 6, 17; intellectual life in, 17;
quotation from 'Virginia Gazette/
18-20; Cavaliers in, 21 ; between
1640 and 1670, 21, 22; iron deposits
in, 25; colonists of, negotiate for
grant on the Ohio, 54; Charter of
1609, 54; votes credits for defence of
Ohio country, 72; the soldiers of,
104-13; life in, 151, 152; aristocratic
families of, 152, 153; middle-class
element in, 1 52
'Virginia Gazette/ 18-20, 105
Virginians, importance of politics to,
152; forbidden to settle west of
the Alleghenies, 154; their money,
155; oppressed by English aristoc-
racy, 155, 156; appeal to the King,
156
Voltaire, 34, 35, 139; quoted on Canada,
Ward, Artemas, 180
Warner, Augustin, of King's Council,
Virginia, 24
Warner, Mildred, marries Lawrence
Washington (2), 24. Set also Wash-
ington, Mrs. Lawrence
Washington, Ann, daughter of John
(i), * 3
Washington, Augustine (i), son of
Lawrence (2), 24; marries Jane But-
ler, 24; marries Mary Ball, 24; his
career, 25, 26
Washington, Mrs. Augustine (Mary
Ball), wife of Augustine (i), 25, 27-
*9> 3 2 > 9> 2 3 2
Washington, Augustine (2), son of
Augustine (i), 24; taken to England
for education, 25, 29; returns to
Virginia, 27; marries Ann Aylett,
27; takes George to Wakefield, 33;
at Westover, 41; helps organize Ohio
Company, 46
Washington, Bushrod, 232
Washington, Charles, son of Augustine
(i),*4
Washington, Elizabeth (i), daughter of
John (i), 23
Washington, Elizabeth (2), daughter
of Augustine (i), 24
Washington, Fanny, daughter of George
Augustine, 232
Washington, George, son of Augustine
(i), 24, 27; was an aristocrat, I, 222,
223; birth, 28; remains with mother
after father's death, 28, 30; his
name, 30; some traits of character,
30; his education, 31, 37-40; choosing
a career for, 32, 33; at Mount Ver-
non, 33; land-surveyor, 33, 34; at the
age of sixteen, 34-36; a legend of,
disproved, 35, 36; given lessons in
fencing and the art of war, 40; reads
from best authors, 40; absorbed by
the immediate and concrete present,
40; from 1748 to 1751, 40, 41, 45;
his diary, 41-44; some lessons learned
by, 42-44; his love of the earth, 44;
begins to earn money, 44; appointed
official surveyor for Culpeper County,
44; purchases land, 45; his account-
books, 45; accompanies brother to
Barbadoes, 46, 47; has smallpox, 47;
visits Governor Dinwiddie, 48, 63;
has serious attack of pleurisy, 48;
becomes proprietor and lord of
Mount Vernon, 48, 49; receives title
of Adjutant-General for the South-
ern District of Virginia, 64; obtains
control of northern district (1753),
64; initiated as Apprentice Mason,
64; becomes Master Mason, 64; un-
successful in wooing of Betsy Faunt-
leroy, 65, 132; his mission into Ohio
country as Major, 67-71; promoted
to colonel, 72; sent to construct fort
on Ohio, 72-84; falls upon Capt, de
Jumonville, 74-77, 80, 85; defeated
at Fort Necessity, 81-84; passes as
traitor and coward, 85, 87, 97; de-
fended, 88; resigns (Oct., 1754), 89;
refuses to hold commission having
neither rank nor emolument, 90;
296
INDEX
aide-de-camp to Braddock, 92-96;
defended from suspicion of treason,
98, 99; a national symbol, 99; ap-
pointed Commander-in-Chicf of the
Virginia forces (Aug., 1755), 99? c -
cupies Fort Cumberland, 101; dis-
putes regarding precedence with
Capt. Dagworthy, 101, 102; goes to
Boston to meet Governor Shirley,
102-04; his soldiers, 104-13; his con-
flict with Dinwiddie, 113-21; dis-
gusted at Bouquet's plan of advance
on Fort Duquesne, 122-25; enters
Fort Duquesne, 126; resigns com-
mission, 127; his reputation, 127, 128
His love for Mrs. Fairfax, 128-37
(see also 90, 100) ; letters to Sally Fair-
fax, 132, 135, 136; becomes engaged
to Martha Custis, 133-35; marries
Martha Custis, 136; his life at Mount
Vernon, 137-51; arms himself with
solitude and silence, 139; studies and
practises agriculture, 143, 146-50;
his fortune, 147-50; portrait of, by
Peale, 149; a leader of the Virginia
aristocracy, 157-59; selected by
veterans as their representative, 160;
political leader of veterans, 160-62;
the first law bearing his signature,
161; gives impression of stability and
greatness, 162, 163; his hospitality,
163; his connections, 163; in the ris-
ing trouble with England, 165; not
the theorist of the Revolution but its
leader, 166; his view of the Revolu-
tion, 1 66, 167; chosen leader of In-
dependent Company of Richmond
County, 168; leaves for Philadelphia,
168
In Philadelphia (May, June, 1775),
173; becomes Commander-in-Chief
of "the United Colonies of the Amer-
ican Continent, 175, 176; leaves to
join the army, 176; had no intention
of imposing himself as military man,
178; his correspondence with Con-
gress, 179, 192, 193; takes command
of American army, 180; his army,
181-83, 200-07; enters Boston, 184;
leaves for New York, 184; prepares
New York campaign, 1 86; his changed
view of the character of the Revolu-
tion, 1 86, 187; conspiracy against,
187; his campaign around New York
and in New Jersey (Aug.- Dec., 1776),
187-93; political sense of, 189; his
retreat, 192; made a sort of military
dictator, 192; and Congress, 193, 194;
in the winter and spring, 1776-77,
193, 194; prepares to defend Phila-
delphia, 196; defeated at the Brandy-
wine and Germantown, 196, 197; his
sublimity, 203; attacked in Congress,
204; his varied activity, 204, 205; his
correspondence, 205; his coolness,
206; his patience, 0,06; campaign of
1781 planned by, 208, 209; siege of
Yorktown, 2io~i; his moral tri-
umph, 215, 21 6; rejects idea of coup
d'ttat, 21 8-20; promises to plead cause
of army with Congress, 220, 221;
president of Society of the Cincinnati,
222, 236; foresees future grandeur of
the new country, 224
Again at Mount Vernon, 225-33,
238, 242, 243; gifts and honours to,
226; his wealth, 228, 229; enterprises
in which he was interested, 229, 230;
interested in the West, 230, 2.31, 237,
246, 247, 252, 260, 267, 268, 273; his
interest in politics, 233-38; his advice
to American people on leaving the
army, 235, 236; president of Con-
stitutional Convention, 241, 242;
chosen President of United States,
243; as President, 244-70; his ap-
pointments, 246; his devotion to
America, 247; his illnesses, 247; his
travelling, 248-52; his Cabinet, 252;
his levees, 252, 253; receives key of
Bastille, 255-57; his aversion to
party spirit, 258, 259; his proclama-
tion of neutrality, 260; and Genet,
263; and the popular societies, 263,
264, 266; press campaign against,
264, 265, 269; and Jay Treaty, 265-
9; refuses to accept third term, 269;
His Farewell Address, 270; retires to
Mount Vernon, 270; accepts from
Adams position of Commander-in~
INDEX
297
Chief, 271; writes to Sally Fairfax,
272; death, 273; acclaimed as Father
of his Country, 273; his tomb, 273;
creates practical aristocracy, 274
Washington, Mrs. George (Martha
Custis), 136, 137, 140, 142, 232, 252,
2 53.
Washington, Major George Augustine,
nephew of George, 232
Washington, George Steptoe, nephew
of George, 232
Washington, Sir John, 21
Washington, John (i), emigrates to Vir-
ginia, 21, 22; marriages of, 22; his
career in Virginia, 22, 23; his es-
tate Bridge Creek/ 'Pope Creek,'
'Westover,' 'Nominy'), 22; called
by Indians * Conocotarius,* 23; his
children and relatives, 23; his prop-
erty at time of death, 23; reestab-
lishes Washington dynasty, 24
Washington, John (2), son of John (i),
2 3
Washington, John (3), son of Lawrence
W, 24
Washington, John Augustine, son of
Augustine (i), 24, 41, 90, 131, 226;
letter to, 92; death, 232
Washington, Lawrence (i), emigrates
to America, 21
Washington, Lawrence (a), son of
John (i), 23; marries Mildred
Warner, 24
Washington, Mrs. Lawrence (Mildred
Warner), marries George Gale, 24
Washington, Lawrence (3), son of
Augustine (i), 24; taken to England
for education, 25; returns to Vir-
ginia, 27; marries Ann Fairfax, 27,
30; in attack on Cartagena (1741),
29; his estate, * Mount Vernon,* 30;
considers career for George, 33; in-
vites George to Mount Vernon, 33,
41; president of Ohio Company, 46;
goes to Barbadoes for health, 46, 47;
death, 48; his will, 48
Washington, Mrs. Lawrence (Ann
Fairfax), 46; marries Col. Lee, 48
Washington, Lawrence (4), nephew of
Washington, 232
Washington, Martha (i), emigrates to
America, 21
Washington, Mildred (i), daughter of
Augustine (i), 24
Washington, Mildred (2), daughter of
Augustine (i), 24
Washington, Robin, 33
Washington, Sir William, 21
Washingtons, the, in England, 20, ai;
in Virginia, 21-26, 54
Wayne, Anthony, 201
Webster, Noah, 227
Weggener, Capt., 158
Weiser, Conrad, 61
West, J., 162
West, the, colonization of, 130; forti-
fied posts of, 230, 246, 247, 252, 260,
267, 268
'Westover/ 22, 41
Whiskey rebellion, 264
William and Mary College, 17
Williams, Mr., teacher, 31
Williamsburg, Virginia, 16
Williamson, Count, 226
Wolcott, Oliver, Secretary of the Treas-
ury, 269
Woods, Sergt., instructs George Wash-
ington in the art of war, 40
Yorktown, 209-15
* Young Man's Companion, The," 31
Zenger, John Peter, was a Freemason,
65
1 28 376
