A life of Washington

Preface

Shobtlv after the conclusion of the late war, the author of the following work removed to the city of Washington, where he resided several years. His situa* tion brought him into familiar intercourse with many respectable, and some distinguished persons, who had been associated with Washington ; and the idea occurred to him of attempting to compile a Life of the Father of his Country, which might possibly address itself to the popular feeling more directly than any one hitherto attempted. With this object in view, he took every occasion to gather information concerning his private life and domestic habits from luch sources as could be relied on as authentic.

Though the work has been long delayed, the design has never been relinquished. But subsequent reflection has induced him to alter his original intention, by attempting to adapt it to the use of schools, and generally to that class of readers who have neither the means of purchasing, nor the leisure to read, a larger and more expensive book. It appeared to him, that the life of Washington furnished an invaluable moral example to the youth of his country and that its introduction to their notice could not but be useful to the rising generation of his countrymen, by holding up to their view, the character and actions of a man whose public and private virtues equally furnish the noblest as well as the safest objects for their guide and imitation.

In compiling this work, the writer has availed himself of all the sources of information within his reach ; and though possessed of materials for a much larger one, has compressed them in a manner which, it is hoped, will bring it within the reach of those to whom it is peculiarly addressed. Much of the information concerning the private life and habits of Washington, was derived from the information of his contemporaries then living, but most of them now no more, and from the means afforded by the present most estimable lady who is now in possession of Mount Vernon.

In detailing the events of the Revolution, the writer has principally consulted

Vr. PREFACE.

the public and private letters of Washington, which have long been before the world, as the most unquestionable authorities ; though it must be obvious, that a work intended for the purposes he has avowed, must necessarily be confined to those more consequential events, in which Washington was himself personally engaged, except in so far as is necessary to connect the narrative. He has avoided citing his authority on every occasion, because such a course would, he thought, interfere with the uses for which the work was intended, by presenting continual interruptions; but his readers may be assured, that he has inserted nothing which he does not believe to be true, and for which, if necessary, he cannot produce the authority of history, of Washington himself, or of undoubted traditions.

In a work addressed to the youth, and to the popular feeling' of his country, it seemed allowable, if not absolutely necessary to the purposes of the writer, to place the actions of Washington before the reader in a manner tlie more strongly to affect his reason as well as his imagination, and to accompany them with reflections calculated to impress him deeply with the virtues and services of the Father of his Country. His desire was to enlist their affections — to call forth their love, as well as veneration, for tl;e great and good man whose life and'actions he has attempted to delineate ; and in so doing he has appealed rather to the feelings of nature than to the judgment of criticUm.

LIFE OF WASHINGTON.

CHAPTEK I.

Introduction. Birth of Washington. Description of his Birth-place. Of the House in which he was born. Some Particulars of his early Education, His Father. His^Mother. His first, second, and last Teacher. Early Military Propensities. Character at School. His Strength and Activity. Anecdote. Becomes Surveyor to the Estate of Lord Fairfax. Anecdote of that Nobleman. Receives a Midshipman's Warrant. His Military Studies.

TbERE is no legacy more precious to youth than memorials of great and virtuous men ; nor is there any thing which confers more lasting renown on a nation, than the fortunate circumstance of having produced a citizen whose rare virtues and illustrious actions "unite the suffrages of mankind in all ages in his favour, and consecrate him as one of the chosen models of the human race. His country and his countrymen equally partake in the benefits of his services and the glory of his actions ; nor is there one of his fellow-citizens throughout all posterity, however humble may be his station, that will not in some degree be ennobled by an association with his name. He becomes the great landmark of his country ; the pillar on which is recorded her claim to an equality with the illustrious nations of the world ; the example to all succeeding generations; and there is no trait which so strongly marks a degenerate race as an indifference to his fame and his virtues.

Such was the man whose life I have undertaken to write ; not because it has not already been well-written, or that his renown requires the aid of the historian or biographer. While

8 LIFE OF WASUINaTONt

these record his virtues and his services, they can do little to perpetuate his fame, which is inseparable from his native land. Ho Avho, by the general sulVrage of his fellow-citizens, is hailed as the Fatiikr ok iiis Country, needs no other monument. His memory will last as long as the country endures, and the name of Wasliingtou be co-existent with that of the land he redeemed from bondage.

Not for his sake, therefore, but for the youth of my country have I commenced this undertaking. I wished, if possible, to place before our children the character and actions of one, the contemplation of whose virtues and services cannot but inspire them with noble sentiments, and a high regard to their public and private duties. In no age or country has there ever arisen a man who, equally in private as in public life, presented so admirable a model to every class and condition of mankind. The most humble citizen of the United States may copy his private virtues, and the most lofty and magnanimous spirit cannot propose to itself a more noble object of ambition than to aspire to an imitation of his public services. In contemplating such a character, our children will eipially acquire a reverence for virtue, and a sacred devotion to the obligations of citizens of a free state.

George Washington was born in the parish of "Washington,* county of "Westmoreland, and state of "S'irginia, the twenty-second of February, 1732^ and was the youngest son of Augustin "Washington and INIary Ball, his second wife. He descended from John "Washington, a native of England, who emigrated to this country sometime between the years 1 G50 and 1C.3G, and settled at Pope's Creek, where he married a

* The first Washington describes himself la his will as " John Washington, of the parish of Washington." It is dated Oct. 21, 1675.

HFE OF WASHINGTON. 9

daughter of the gentleman from whom the stream derives its name.

Although it is of little consequence who were the distant ancestors of a man who, by common consent, is hailed as the Father of his Country, yet any particulars concerning his family cannot but be a subject of curiosity. In all my general reading I have only chanced to meet with the name of Washington three or four times in the early history and literature of England. In the diary of Elias Ashmole, founder of the Ashmolean Museum, are the following entries : —

"June \2th, 1645. I entered on my command as comptroller of the ordnance."

" June \2ith. I received my commission from Colonel Washington."

Hume, in his account of the siege of Bristol, has the following passage : — " One party led by Lord Grandison was beaten off and its commander mortally wounded. Another, conducted by Colonel Bellasis, met with a like fate. But Washington, with a less party, finding a place in the curtain weaker than the rest, broke in, and quickly made room for the horse to follow." This was in 1643. Five years afterwards, that deluded monarch, Charles I., suffered the just consequences of his offences against the majesty of the people of England, and from that time the cause of royalty appeared desperate. The more distinguished and obnoxious adherents of the Stuarts exiled themselves in foreign lands, and the date of the supposed arrival of the first Washington in Virginia, accords well with the supposition that he may have been the same person mentioned by Ashmole and Hume. In an old collection of poetry, by Sir John Menzies and others, there is a fine copy of verses to the memory of Mr. Washington, page to the king, who died in Spain. In the year A 5

10 LIFE OF WASHINOTON.

1640, William Legge, Earl of Dartmouth, married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir William 'NVashington. But the name and family of Washington are now extinct in the land of our forefathers. When General Washington was about making his will, he caused inquiries to be instituted, being desirous to leave some memorial to all his relations. The result was a conviction that none of the family existed in that country. — But the topic is rather curious than important. The subject of this biography could receive little additional dignity through a descent from the most illustrious families in Christendom. He stands alone in the pure atmosphere of his own glory. He derived no title to honours from his ancestry, and left no child but his country to inherit his fame.

The house in which Washington was born stood about half a mile from the junction of Popa's Creek with the Potomac, and was either burned or pulled down long previous to the Revolution. A few scanty relics alone remain to mark the spot which will ever be sacred in the eyes of posterity. A clump of old decayed fig trees, probably coeval with the mansion, yet exists ; a number of vines, and shrubs, and flowers still re-produce themselves every year, as if to mark its site, and flourish among the hallowed ruins ; and a stone, placed there by Mr. George Washington Custis, bears the simple inscription, "Here, on the 11th of February, (O.S.) 1732, George Washington was born."

The spot is of the deepest interest, not only from its associations, but its natural beauties. It commands a view of the Maryland shore of the Potomac, one of the most majestic of rivers, and of its course for many miles towards Chesapeake Bay. An aged gentleman, still living in the neighbourhood, remembers the house in which Washington was born. It was a low-pitched, single-storied, frame building, with four rooms on the first floor, and an enormous chimney at each end on the outside. This was the style of the better sort of tlFE OP WASHINGltON. 11

houses in those daj's, aad they are still occasionally seen in the old settlements of Virginia.

Such is the brief sketch of the birth-place of a man who was destined to carry to a successful issue those great principles of liberty, which, after having resulted in a degree of happiness and prosperity hitherto unparalleled in the history of mankind, are now spreading afar into the remote regions of the earth, and seem fated to work a universal revolution. Let my young reader bear in mind that it was not in a palace, in the midst of the splendours of royalty, that a child was bom, with whose iirst breath the future destinies of millions of the human race were to be inseparably associated, and whose virtues were to redeem his country from a long-continued vassalage. It was in the house of a private man, like that they themselves inhabit, he first saw the light; and it was by the aid alone of such advantages as are within the reach of them all, that he qualified himself, not only to become the future father of his country, but to exhibit to the world one of the purest models of private excellence, that the history of nations presents to the imitation of mankind. The contemplation of such an illustrious example will go far to dissolve those long-cherished delusions, created and fostered by early impressions, and the almost universal tendency of books, which have implanted in their minds a conviction that rank, and birth, and wealth, and power are indispensable requisites to great virtues and glorious actions.

The aged neighbour and cotemporary of Washiugton, from whom I have derived the preceding description of the house of his nativity, remembers to have heai-d that at the time of his birth he was very large ; and the uniform testimony of those who knew him proves, that in his youth, manhood, and even his declining years, be was distinguished, not only for his vigour, activity, and hardihood, but for an ad\^enturous, resolute, and ardent spirit. His father, Augustin Washington, died when he was scarcely ten years old, leaving him to the care of his mother, who survived a long time, and lived to see her favourite son hailed by a grateful people as their deliverer.

But young as was Washington at the decease of his father, it is stated, on the authority of the rector of the parish of Mount Vernon, that he lived long enough to implant in his heart the seeds of virtuous principles, which, falling on a rich soil, grew up in time to a glorious maturity. The virtues of truth, justice, and liberality, most especially, were early impressed on his youthful mind, by examples and illustrations, and the principles of religion inculcated with his earliest lessons. From all that is remembered of Augustin "Washington, he appears to have been a good man, worthy of such a eon.

The mother of Washington, on, whom the care of bringing him up devolved on the death of his father, is described to me, by those who knew her well, as a woman of ordinary stature, once a belle and beauty in that part of Virginia called the Northern Neck. High-spirited, yet of great simplicity of manners, uncommon strength of mind, and decision of character, she exacted great deference from her sous, of whom George was the favourite. The only weakness in her character was an excessive fear of thunder, which originated in the melancholy death of a young female friend, who was struck dead at her side by lightning, when Mrs. Washington was about fifteen years old.

The same inflexible regard to the performance of those ordinary duties of life, on which so much of our own happiness and that of others depends ; the same strict punctuality in keeping her word, and discharging all the obligations of justice, by which Washington was distinguished, characterized his mother. There was a plain honesty and truth about her peculiar to that age, aud which has been ill-exchanged for empty professions and outward polish. As a native of Virginia, she was hospitable by birthright, and always received her visitors with a smiling welcome. But they were never asked to stay but once, and she always speeded the parting guest, by affording every facility in her power. She possessed all those domestic habits and qualities that conft r value on woman, but had no desire to be distinguished by any other titles than those of a good wife and mother. She was once present, and occupied the seat of honour, at a ball given to Washington at Fredericksburg, while in the full measure of his well-earned glory, and when nine o'clock came, said to him with perfect simplicity, " Come, George, it is time to go home."

Though the early years of Washington are shrouded in the mists of time, I have been enabled, through the kindness of one, whose modest and retiring dignity would scarcely forgive me were I to mention her name, to communicate some interesting particulars of his course of domestic discipline. It will appear from these, that the loss of one parent was amply supplied by the well-directed cares of another, and that he derived his character from the purest fountains of piety and wisdom.

I have now before me a venerable volume, printed in the year 1685, entitled, "Contemplations, Moi-al and Divine, by Sir Matthew Hale, late Chief-justice of the Court of King'e- Bench," in which is written, with her own hand, the name of " Mary Washington.'' It bears the appearance of frequent use , and particular chapters are designated by marks of reference. It is the volume from which the mother of Wasliington was accustomed to read daily lessons of piety, morality, and wisdom to her children. The value of such a relic cannot be better set forth than in the language which accompanied its transmission ; and I can only devoutly hope that the hallowed sanctuary of Mount Vernon may ever continue to be possessed by such kindred spirits as the writer of that letter.

'' I beg it may be carefully preaorved and returned, aa one of the family heir-looms which better feelings than pride "vvould retain for future generations to look on, even should they not study it. There is something in a reverence for religion favourable to a virtuous character ; and that reverence is in some measure kept alive by looking on a fixmily Bible, and solid works of divinity, which have descended from past generations. AVe associate with them recollections of ancestral virtues, and when family tradition assures us they were the counsellors of past days, there is a feeling of the heart which turns to them in time of trial, and makes it good, I think, to leave them an honourable station, as friends to those that have gone before, and those who shall come after us, to speak in the cause of truth when we shall sleep in the grave."

1 shall make some extracts from such portions of this book as appear to have been most used, not only because they contain the finest lessons of piety, morality, nnd wisdom, but most especially because 1 think the genu of Washington's character may be traced in the principles and practice they so elo(iuently inculcate. One of the chapters Avhich appears to have been selected as an ordinary lesson, and marked for that purpose in the table of contents, is denominated " The Great Audit," and seems to me to contain as much true wisdom as was ever embodied in the snme compass. I shall extract those parts which most singularly assimilate with the character of Washington, in order that my youthful readers may see whence it was that, in all probability, the Father of his Country derived his principles of action, and, if possible, imitate his virtues.

"As touching my conscience, and the light thou hast given me in it, I have been very jealous of wounding, or grieving, or discouraging, or deadening it. I have therefore chosen rather tlFB! OP WASHINCHON. 15

to foster that which seemed but indifferent, lest there should be somewhat in it that might be useful ; and would rather gratify my conscience with being too scrupulous than displease or disquiet it by being too venturous. I have still chosen, therefore, what might be probably lawful, than to do what might possibly be unlawful ; because, though I could not err in the former, I might in the latter. If things were disputable, whether they might be done, I rather chose to forbear, because the lawfulness of my forbearance was unquestionable.

" Touching human prudence and understanding in affairs, and dexterity in the arranging of them : I have ever been careful to mingle justice and honesty with my prudence, and have always esteemed prudence, actuated by injustice and falsity, the arrantest and most devilish practice in the world, because it prostitutes thy gift to the service of hell, and mingles a beam of thy divine excellence with an extract of the devil's furnishing, making a man so much the worse by how much he is wiser than others.

" I always thought that wisdom which, in a tradesman or a politician, was mingled with deceit, falsity, and injustice, deserved the same name, only the latter is so much the worse, because it is of the more public and general concernment. Yet because I have often observed great employments, especially in public affairs, are sometimes under great temptations of mingling too much craft with prudence, and then to miscall it policy, I have, as much as may be, avoided such temptations, and if I have met with them, I have resolutely rejected them.

" I have always observed that honesty and plain-dealing in transactions, as well public as private, is the best and soundest prudence and policy, and commonly, at the long-run, overmatcheth craft and subtlety. And more advantage is derived

16 LIFK OF WA8HINQT0N.

from possessing the contidence of mankind, that can ever be made by deceiving them.

"As human prudence is abused if mingled with falsity and deceit, though the end be ever so good, so it is much more debased if directed to a bad end, to the dishonour of thy name, the oppression of thy people, the corrupting thy worship or truth, or to practice any injustice towards any person.

"It hath been my care as not to err in the manner, so neither in the end of the exercising of thy providence. I have ever esteemed thy prudence best employed when it was exercised in the preservation and support of thy truth, in contemning, discovering, and disappointing the designs of evil and treacherous men, in delivering the oppressed, in righting the injured, in preventing of wars and discords, in preserving the public peace and tranquillity of the people where I live, and in all those offices laid upon me by thy providence, under every relation.

" When my end was most unquestionably good, I ever then took most heed that the means were suitable and justifiable. Because the better the end was, the more easily are we cozened into the use of ill means to effect it. "We are too apt to dispense with ourselves in the practice of what is amiss, in order to the accomplishment of an end that is good ; we are apt, while with great intenseness of mind we gaze upon the end, not to take care what course we take so Ave attain it; and we are apt to think that God will dispense with, or at least overlook the miscarriages in our attempts, if the end be good.

" Because many times, if not most times thy name and honour do more suffer by attempting a good end by bad means, than by attempting both a bad end, and by bad means. For bad ends are suitable to bad means ; they are alike — and it doth not immediately as such concern thy honour. But every thing that is good hath somewhat of thee in it, thy name, and

LIFK OF WAaHINGTON. 17

thy nature, and thy honour is written upon it; and the blemish that is cast upon it, is, in some measure, cast upon thee. The evil, and scandal, and ugliness that is in the means, is cast upon the end, and doth disparage and blemish it, and consequently, is dishonour to thee. To rob for burnt-offerings, or to lie for God, is a greater disservice to thy majesty, than to rob for rapine, or to lie for advantage."

" Touching my eminence of place and power in this world, this is my account. I never sought or desired it, and that for these reasons. First, because I easily saw that it was rather a burden than a privilege. It made my charge and my account the greater, my contentment and my rest the less. I found enough in it to make me decline it in respect to myself, but not any that could invite me to seek or desire it.

" That external glory and splendour that attended it, I esteemed as vain and frivolous in itself, a bait to allure vain and inconsiderate persons to affect and delight — not valuable enough to invite a considerate judgment to desire or undertake it. I esteemed them as the gilding that covers a bitter pill, and I looked through this dress and outside and easily saw that it covered a state obnoxious to danger, solicitude, care, trouble, envy, discontent, unquietness, temptation, and vexation.

" I esteemed it a condition which, if there were any distempers abroad, they would be infallibly hunting and pushing at it ; and if it found any corruptions within, either of pride, vain-glory, insolence, vindictiveness, or the like, it would be sure to draw them out and set them to work. And if they prevailed, it made my power and greatness not only my burden but my sin ; if they prevailed not, yet it required a most watchful, assiduous, and severe labour and industry to suppress them.

" When I undertook any place of power or eminence, first, I looked to my call thereunto to be such as I might discern to

18 LIFE OF WA8HINQI0N.

be thy call, not my own ambition. Second, that the place was such as might be answered by suitable abilities in some measure to perform. Third, that my end in it might not be the eatisfaction of any pride, ambition, or vanity in myself, but to serve Providence and my generation honestly and faithfully.

" In the holding or exercising these places, I kept mj' heart humble ; 1 valued not myself one rush the more for it. First, because I easily found that the base affectation of pride, which commonly is the fly that haunts such employments, would render me dishonourable to thy majesty, and discreditable in the employment. Second, because 1 easily saw that great places were slippery places, the mark of envy. It was, therefore, always my care so to behave in them as I might be in a capacity to leave them ; and so to leave them, as that, when I had left them, I might have no scars and blemishes stick upon me. I carried, therefore, the same evenness of temper in holding them as might become me if I were without them. I found enough in great employments to make me sensible of the danger, trouble, and cares of them ; enough to make me humble, but not enough to make me proud and haHghty.

"I never made use of my power or greatness to serve my own tarns, either to heap up riches, or oppress my neighbour, or to revenge injuries, or to uphold injustice. For, though others thought me great, I knew myself to be still the same, and in all things, besides the due execution of my place, my deportment was just the same as if I had been no such man ; for I very well and practically knew that place, and honour, and preferment are things extrinsical, and have no ingredience into the man. His value and estimate before, and under, and after his greatness is still the same in itself— as the counter that now stands for a penny, anon for sixpence, and anon for twelve pence is still the same counter, though its place and extrinsical denomiation be changed.

" Though I have loved my reputation, and have been carefill not to lose or impair it by my own neglect, yet I have looked upon it as a brittle thing that the devil aims to hit in an especial manner ; a thing that is much in the power of a false report, a mistake, or misappreliension to wound and hurt, and notwithstanding all my care, I am at the mercy of others, without God's wonderful overruling providence.

" And as my reputation is the esteem that others have of me, so that esteem may be blemislied without my default. I have, therefore, always taken this care not to set my heart u])on my reputation. I will use all fidelity and honesty, and take care it shall not be lost by any default of mine, and if, notwithstanding all this, my reputation lie foiled by evil or man, I will patiently bear it, and content myself with the serenity of my own conscience.

" When thy honour or the good of my country was concerned, I then thought it was a seasonable time to lay out my reputation for the advantage of either, and to act with it, and by it, and upon it, to the highest, in the use of all lawful means. And upon such an occasion, the counsel of Mordecai to Esther was my encouragement, — ' IVho knoiocth whether God hath not given thee this o'eputation and esteem for such a time as (his?'"

This admirable book is filled with lessons of virtue and wisdom, clothed in the simple language of sincerity and truth, and adorned in its hoary dignity, like some ancient temple, with rich vines, bearing clusters of flowers, and beautiful even in its decay. It has evidently been much used, and especially in those passages containing enforcements and exemplifications of the higher duties of men. It is the work of a pious and venerable sage, whose whole life illustrated his own precepts, and without doubt contributed much to form the character of the man who scarcely conferred greater benefits on his country by his actions, than posterity will derive from his example.

From this indissoluble connexion between good precepts imbibed iu early youth, and good actions performed in manhood and old age, the children of America may learn the value of a virtuous education, and make a proper use of those opportunities which the alTection of parents and the munificence of their country afford them. These are among the rich gifts, the " talents," bestowed upon them by the Giver of all good, and according as they use them well or ill will they be able to answer when called upon at the "great audit," when the trumpet shall sound, and the graves give up their dead.