CHAPTER IV.

_The Warrior, the Statesman, and the Planter._

Political Views of Washington--Lord Fairfax--Greenway Court--Panic at Winchester--Raids of the Savages--Policy of the British Government--Trials of Washington--The Ministry of Pitt--The New Route--Scarvoyadi the Chief--The Rendezvous at Winchester--Washington meets Martha Custis--The Result--Washington elected to the House of Burgesses--Opening the New Route--Recklessness of Major Grant--The Disaster--The Melancholy March--The Fort Abandoned and Destroyed--The Return--Splendors of Mount Vernon.

The remonstrances of Washington against the folly of cutting a new road were unavailing. As we have mentioned, the people were not in sympathy with these war measures. They were unwilling to enlist, and still more unwilling to furnish supplies. Washington, at this period of his life, had very high notions of military authority. He was then by no means a democrat, and not even a republican. In his view, it was the duty of the people to obey the orders of the court, not to question them. He was compelled to impress both wagons and wagoners. They could be obtained in no other way. In his indignation he wrote:

“No orders are obeyed but such as a party of soldiers or my own drawn sword enforces. Without this, not a single horse, for the most earnest occasion, can be had; to such a pitch has the insolence of this people arrived, by having every point hitherto submitted to them. However, I have given up none, where his majesty’s service requires the contrary, and where my proceedings are justified by my instructions; nor will I, unless they execute what they threaten, and blow out our brains.”[45]

Washington was at Winchester, gathering troops for the new expedition. The savages were ravaging the frontier, murdering travellers, burning farm-houses, butchering and scalping the inhabitants. They had even crossed the western ridge of the Alleghanies and penetrated the valley of the Shenandoah. Even the baronial home of Lord Fairfax was menaced by them. Greenway Court, as his stately mansion was called, was surrounded by the majestic forest, where the savages, in large numbers, could gather unseen. The scalp of his lordship would be considered by them an inestimable trophy. His friends urged that he should abandon the place and take refuge in some of the lower settlements. The British nobleman, with spirit characteristic of his race, replied to his nephew, Colonel Martin, who was urging this measure:

“I am an old man, and it is of but little importance whether I fall by the tomahawk or die of disease and old age. But you are young, and, it is to be hoped, have many years before you; therefore decide for us both. My only fear is that, if we retire, the whole district will break up and take to flight; and the fine country, which I have been at such cost and trouble to improve, will again become a wilderness.”

It was decided to remain, and convert Greenway Court into a sort of fortress, garrisoned by the slaves of Lord Fairfax, and his numerous other retainers. Aid could also be speedily summoned from Winchester. Washington, at Winchester, organized a band of Americans familiar with forest life, and explored the hiding places in the mountains and valleys in search of the prowling bands of savages.

The panic at Winchester was dreadful. Every hour brought its tale of horror. Only twenty miles from the town, in the Warm Spring Mountain, a scouting party of the English was attacked by the savages, all on horseback. The captain and several of the soldiers were shot down. The rest were put to flight by the victorious Indians. It was daily expected that the town would be attacked. All looked to Washington as their only protector. The consternation of the women was dreadful. They came to him, with their children in their arms, and implored him to save them from the savages. The heart of Washington was often wrung with anguish. He wrote to Governor Dinwiddie:

“I am too little acquainted with pathetic language to attempt a description of this people’s distress. But what can I do? I see their situation. I know their danger and participate their sufferings, without having it in my power to give them further relief than uncertain promises.

“The supplicating tears of the women, and petitions of the men, melt me into such deadly sorrow that I solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided that would contribute to the people’s ease.”

Washington himself was bitterly assailed. Every outrage inflicted by the Indians was charged to his neglect or incompetency. His sensitive nature was stung to the quick. His situation was indeed deplorable. He derived neither honor nor emolument from his command. He was shut up in a frontier town, surrounded by savage hordes, whose ravages his feeble band could by no means arrest. He declared that nothing but the imminent danger of the times prevented him from resigning his command. His friend Mr. Robinson, Speaker of the House of Burgesses, wrote to him:

“Our hopes, dear George, are all fixed on you, for bringing our affairs to a happy issue. Consider what fatal consequences to your country your resigning the command, at this time, may be; especially as there is no doubt most of the officers will follow your example.”

The House of Burgesses was in favor of the policy of erecting a chain of frontier forts to extend a distance of about four hundred miles, through the solitudes of the Alleghany mountains, from the Potomac to the borders of North Carolina.

Washington considered this measure quite injudicious. To render it of any avail, it would be necessary that the forts should be within about fifteen miles of each other, so that the intervening country could be daily explored. Otherwise the Indians would rush between, and, having effected their ravages would escape back to the forest where pursuit would be fruitless. The forts would have to be very strongly garrisoned, for French artillery could be brought against them, and almost any number of savage warriors. The cost of rearing so many forts would be immense. They could not be suitably garrisoned by less than two thousand men. Washington, therefore, proposed that, instead of this series of forts, there should be a strong central fortress at Winchester, and three or four large fortresses, at convenient distances on the frontier, from which parties could easily explore the surrounding country. He also made many other suggestions of reform in the military service, which developed, thus early, the sagacity and forethought which so signally characterized him in future life. Many of the suggestions of Washington, Governor Dinwiddie rejected. But the central fortress at Winchester and the frontier posts were reared.

The repeated inroads of the savages had driven nearly all the inhabitants out of the beautiful valley of the Shenandoah. The woes which these poor fugitives endured cannot well be imagined. It was the object of the British government, not only to expel the French from the valley of the Ohio, but also from the valley of the St. Lawrence. The necessity of collecting troops from Pennsylvania and Virginia, to attack the French in Canada, greatly weakened the power of the Americans in the more southern States, to protect their homes.

Every man who attains celebrity pays a heavy price for the attainment. Washington, in one of his hours of anguish, when he was thwarted in his most important plans, and assailed by a constant torrent of abuse, wrote, in reference to a very unwelcome order he had received:

“The late order reverses, confuses, and incommodes everything; to say nothing of the extraordinary expense of carriage, disappointments, losses, and alterations which must fall heavily upon the country. Whence it arises, or why, I am truly ignorant. But my strongest representations of matters relative to the peace of the frontiers are disregarded as idle and frivolous; my propositions and measures as partial and selfish; and all my sincerest endeavors, for the service of my country, are perverted to the worst purposes. My orders are dark, doubtful, uncertain; to-day approved, to-morrow condemned.

“Left to act and proceed at hazard, accountable for the consequences, and blamed without the benefit of defence, if you can think my situation capable of exciting the smallest degree of envy, or affording the least satisfaction, the truth is yet hidden from you, and you entertain notions very different from the case.”[46]

Care, exposure, and sorrow threw Washington into a burning fever. He retired to Mount Vernon, where he was reduced very low, and four months passed away before he was able to resume his command. This was on the 1st of March, 1758.

Much to the relief of Washington, Governor Dinwiddie, in January, had sailed for England. The Earl of Loudon succeeded him. But, busily engaged in organizing an expedition for the invasion of Canada, the earl did not immediately enter upon the duties of his office in Virginia. William Pitt was now prime minister of Great Britain.

As one of his first measures, in the year 1758 a strong expedition was organized, consisting of six thousand men, to march against Fort Duquesne. General Forbes was appointed to the command of the whole force. Virginia raised two thousand troops. These were divided into two regiments. Washington, who had been appointed by the Assembly, commander-in-chief of all the Virginia troops, was also colonel of the first regiment. Colonel Byrd led the second. Colonel Bouquet, in command of the British regulars, was in the advance, marshalling his forces in the centre of Pennsylvania.

Early in July, Washington, with his troops, marching from Winchester, reached Fort Cumberland. Two of his companies he dressed in Indian costume. To Colonel Bouquet he wrote:

“My men are bare of regimental clothing, and I have no prospect of supply. So far from regretting this want, during the present campaign, if I were left to pursue my own inclinations, I would not only order the men to adopt the Indian dress, but cause the officers to do it also, and be the first to set the example myself. Nothing but the uncertainty of obtaining the general approbation causes me to hesitate a moment to leave my regimentals in this place, and proceed as light as any Indian in the woods. It is an unbecoming dress, I own; but convenience rather than show, I think, should be consulted.”

Notwithstanding the earnest remonstrances of Washington, it was decided to cross the mountains by a new route. With immense labor, a road had been cut for the passage of wagons and artillery, along which Braddock’s army had passed. Slight repairs would put this road in good condition. Washington presented an accurate estimate, showing that the whole army could be at Fort Duquesne in thirty-four days, with a supply of provisions remaining on hand for eighty-seven days. But Colonel Bouquet was firm in his resolution to open a new route, from Raystown, through Pennsylvania. Washington, after an interview with Bouquet, wrote, on the 2d of August, to a friend, Major Halket:

“I have just returned from a conference with Colonel Bouquet. I find him fixed--I think I may say unalterably fixed--to lead you a new way to the Ohio, through a road every inch of which is to be cut, at this advanced season, when we have scarce time to tread the beaten track, universally confessed to be the best passage through the mountains. If Colonel Bouquet succeeds in this point, all is lost--all is lost indeed. Our enterprise will be ruined, and we shall be stopped at the Laurel Hill this winter; the southern Indians will turn against us, and these colonies will be desolated by such an accession to the enemy’s strength. These must be the consequences of a miscarriage; and a miscarriage is almost the necessary consequence of an attempt to march the army by this new route.”

Quite a large band of Indians were engaged as allies of the English on this expedition. They were led by a very intelligent and distinguished chief, called Scarvoyadi. There were several tribes who recognized his chieftainship. They had kept aloof, for some time, from military alliance with either party. At length, with some hesitancy, they joined the English. Washington considered the aid of these bold warriors as of the utmost importance. He knew that they were proud, and would quickly discern and keenly feel any insult. He therefore urged that they should be treated with consideration, and that they should be consulted on important questions.

But the British officers had but very little respect for ignorant savages. Many of the warriors, disgusted with the long delay, deliberately shouldered their muskets and marched back through the wilderness to their homes. They were ready at once to respond to the invitations of the French, who ever treated them as equals. Scarvoyadi, who still personally adhered to the English, wrote to the Governor and Council of Pennsylvania, in reference to the defeat of Braddock, as follows:

“As to the defeat at the Monongahela, it was owing to the pride and ignorance of that great general who came from England. He is now dead. But he was a bad man when he was alive. He looked upon us as dogs. He would never hear anything we said to him. We often endeavored to advise him, and tell him of the danger he was in. But he never appeared pleased with us. That was the reason why a great many of our warriors left him.”[47]

We have no space here to allude to the great and successful campaign in the north, against Canada, with which Washington had no connection. But operations went on very slowly on the frontiers of Virginia. General Forbes, who was commander-in-chief, was long detained in Philadelphia. Colonel Bouquet, who was to command the advance, assembled his corps of British regulars at Raystown, in the heart of Pennsylvania. There were about three thousand five hundred American troops, Provincials, as they were called, at other appointed places of rendezvous.

Washington summoned his two regiments of Virginia troops to meet at Winchester. They numbered about nineteen hundred men. There were also about seven hundred friendly Indians, who came into his camp, lured by the high reputation of Washington and the prospect of the plunder of Fort Duquesne.

But when the American young men, from their scattered farm-houses in the wilderness, some of them distant two hundred miles, arrived at the rendezvous, they found themselves destitute of everything needful for so momentous a campaign. They were in want of horses, arms, ammunition, tents, field equipage, and almost everything else essential to the enterprise.

It was necessary for Washington immediately to repair to Williamsburg, to present the state of the case to the Council. When he reached the Pamunkey river, where there was no bridge, he was carried across, with his horse, in a ferry-boat. In the crossing he chanced to meet a Virginia gentleman of the name of Chamberlain, who was wealthy and who occupied a mansion in the neighborhood, where he entertained his distinguished guests with almost baronial hospitality.

He urged Washington so importunately to accompany him to his dwelling, at least to dine, that Washington, though with great reluctance, as it might cause the delay of an hour, felt constrained to accept the invitation. Among the guests at the table was a very beautiful young widow, by the name of Martha Custis. She was wealthy, and both by birth and marriage was connected with the most distinguished families in Virginia.

She was high-bred, accustomed to the most polished society, intelligent, and very beautiful. Her husband, who had been dead about three years, had left her with two children and a large fortune. Washington seemed to be, at first sight, deeply impressed with her surpassing loveliness and her social and mental attractions. The dinner hour rapidly passed. The horses, according to appointment, were at the door. But Washington decided to remain until the next morning. The afternoon and evening passed rapidly away, and at an early hour the ensuing day Washington was again in the saddle, endeavoring to make up for lost time as he urged his steed toward Williamsburg.

The beautiful and opulent widow had many suitors. The somewhat stately mansion, reared upon her large estate, was known as the White House. It was situated in New Kent county, not far from Williamsburg. Washington, apprehensive that he might lose the prize, improved the brief time which remained to him, to the utmost. The result was that their mutual faith was soon plighted. The marriage was to take place as soon as the campaign against Fort Duquesne was at an end.

Washington was continually urging upon the British officers the necessity of an immediate and vigorous advance. But these men, though winning the admiration of all by their bravery in the field, being generally the sons of the nobles, and accustomed to luxurious indulgence, deemed it necessary to make provisions for their comfort on the campaign, which, to the hardy Americans, seemed quite preposterous. The troops became daily more restless and demoralized by the temptations of an idle camp. The Indians, quite disgusted, in a body retired.

At length Washington, to his great relief, received orders to repair to Fort Cumberland. He reached that frontier fort on the 2d of July, and immediately commenced cutting a road through the forest, a distance of thirty miles, to Raystown, where Colonel Bouquet was stationed. Scouting parties of Indians were ranging the woods, firing upon the workmen, and upon the expresses passing between the posts, and worrying the laborers in every possible way. Washington succeeded in engaging the services of a band of Cherokee warriors, whom he sent out in counter parties against the hostile Indians. Colonel Bouquet thought that no one but an American could be guilty of the folly of imagining that Cherokee warriors could, in any emergence, be equal to British regulars. He insisted that each party should be accompanied by an English officer and a number of English soldiers. Washington was annoyed by the encumbrance, but was obliged to yield. He said:

“Small parties of Indians will more effectually harass the enemy, by keeping them under continual alarms, than any parties of white men can do. For small parties of the latter are not equal to the task, not being so dexterous at skulking as the Indians. And large parties will be discovered by their spies early enough to have a superior force opposed to them.”[48]

While affairs were moving thus slowly, Washington was quite enthusiastically chosen, by the electors of Frederick county, as their representative to the House of Burgesses. On the 21st of July, tidings arrived of the capture of Louisbourg, and the island of Cape Breton, by the English. This increased the impatience of Washington to be on the move. The rumor reached him that Colonel Bouquet intended to send a body of eight hundred troops in advance toward the fort. He immediately wrote to the Colonel, entreating that his command might be included in the detachment.

“If any argument,” said he, “is needed, to obtain this favor, I hope, without vanity, I may be allowed to say, that from long intimacy with these woods, and frequent scoutings in them, my men are at least as well acquainted with all the passes and difficulties as any troops that will be employed.”

Notwithstanding the remonstrances of Washington, and the indignation of the Virginia Assembly, Colonel Bouquet persisted in his plan of cutting a new road over the mountains, to Fort Duquesne. Sixteen hundred men were sent forward, from Raystown, to engage in the work. Thus July and August passed away; Washington was still encamped at Fort Cumberland, in the extreme of impatience, with nothing to do. He learned, by his spies, that on the 13th of August there were but eight hundred men, Indians included, at Fort Duquesne. There can be no question, that had Washington’s counsels been followed, the fort would, by that time, have been in the hands of the British.

In September, Washington received orders to repair, with his troops, to Raystown, where he was to join Colonel Forbes. It was the middle of the month. And yet, with incredible toil the new military road had been opened but about forty-five miles, where a fort of deposit was built, called Loyal Hannan, a short distance beyond Laurel Hill, a distance of fifty miles, through the wilderness, was still to be traversed.

Colonel Bouquet, who commanded two thousand men there, sent forward about eight hundred men, under Major Grant, to reconnoitre. The Major was a boastful, conceited bravado. A part of his force consisted of Highlanders, and another part of Americans, under Major Andrew Lewis. They were all brave men. Grant was not aware that Indian scouts were watching every step of his advance. The farther they could draw him from the main body, the more easy and signal would be their victory. Supposing that he had approached the fort unperceived, Major Grant decided to make a sudden attack, thinking to take it by surprise, and thus to win great glory. Major Lewis thought the attempt very imprudent. There was certainly danger of failure. The failure might prove exceedingly disastrous. Whereas, by obeying orders, and waiting for the main body of troops to come up, the fort could certainly be taken, and probably with but very little, if any, bloodshed. With characteristic contemptuousness Major Grant replied:

“You and your Americans may remain behind, with the baggage. I will go forward, with the British regulars, and show you how a fort can be taken.”

He then placed Major Lewis in the rear, with the American troops, to protect the baggage. With martial music and unfurled banners, as if in proud challenge of the garrison, he marched his troops to an eminence, near the fort, where he encamped for the night. There was no movement in the fort. Not a gun was fired. Not a voice was heard. Nearly two thousand Indians were encamped near by, waiting to coöperate with a sally from the fort the next morning.

The morning came. With its early dawn there was opened one of those awful scenes of tumult, blood, and woe, which have so often disfigured this sad world. The sally from the garrison attacked in front. The Indians in ambush, with hideous yells, opened fire upon the flanks. The scenes of Braddock’s defeat were renewed. The British officers, with coolness and courage which could not be surpassed, endeavored to rally their men according to European tactics, which was the most foolish thing they could possibly do. The soldiers were thus presented to the foe, in such a concentrated mass, that every bullet of the savages accomplished its mission.

The British regulars, for a little time, held their ground bravely, though almost deafened by the yells of two thousand savages, and assailed by perhaps as terrific a storm of leaden hail as soldiers ever encountered. But no mortal courage could long withstand this merciless slaughter. Panic ensued, and a tumultuous flight. Major Lewis, leaving Captain Bullit with fifty men to guard the baggage, hurried forward, with the remainder of the Virginia troops, to the scene of action. The ground was covered with the dead and wounded, and the English utterly routed, were in frantic flight. The yells of two thousand Indians, in hot pursuit, blended into one demoniac scream.

Lewis was surrounded and captured. A French officer came to his rescue, and saved him from the tomahawk. Major Grant was likewise captured, and his life was saved by a French officer. Captain Bullit endeavored to make a forlorn stand, by forming a barricade with the baggage wagons. It was the work of a moment. The fugitives rallied behind it. Every man could see that escape, by flight, pursued by two thousand fleet-footed savages, was impossible. Concealed behind this bulwark, as the savages drew near, a deadly fire, by a concerted signal, was simultaneously opened upon them. This held the savages in check for a little time, but it manifestly could not be for long. We regret to add that the brave Captain Bullit then resorted to a stratagem, which, had it been adopted by the Indians, would have been denounced as the vilest perfidy. We give the occurrence, in the mild, and certainly not condemnatory language, of Washington Irving.

“They were checked for a time, but were again pressing forward in greater numbers, when Bullit and his men held out the signal of capitulation, and advanced, as if to surrender. When within eight yards of the enemy, they suddenly levelled their arms, poured a most effectual volley, and then charged with the bayonet. The Indians fled in dismay, and Bullit took advantage of this check to retreat, with all speed, collecting the wounded and scattered fugitives as he advanced.”[49]

The routed detachment, in broken bands, after the endurance of terrible sufferings, reached the Fort, Loyal Hannan. Here we are informed, by Mr. Irving, that Bullit’s behavior was “a matter of great admiration.” He was soon after rewarded with a major’s commission.[50]

In this disastrous campaign, fraught with woe to so many once happy homes, twenty-one officers and two hundred and seventy-three privates were either killed or taken captive. There was something in the dignity, thoughtfulness, and heroism of Washington’s character which caused, notwithstanding the incessant attacks to which he was exposed, his reputation to be continually on the advance. The weary weeks still lingered slowly away, and but little was accomplished. The Indians were ravaging the frontiers, almost unopposed. Life had become a burden in hundreds of woe-stricken homes. In many a lonely log-cabin, the widowed mother gathered her orphan children around her, and in terror awaited the war-whoop of the savage. Washington was given the command of a detachment of American troops to do what he could for the protection of these homes where anguish dwelt.

If there be pestilence, famine, earthquake, God is responsible for the consequences; for He sends the scourge. But for these woes, these terrific woes, caused simply by ambitious warfare between the courts of England and France, God is not responsible. They were the work of man. The responsibility rests upon human hearts. Who will be held, by God, accountable for them in the day of judgment? There are some persons who must have cause to tremble.

It was not until the 5th of November, that the whole army was assembled at Loyal Hannan. Dreary winter was at hand. Snow capped the summits, and ice filled the gorges of the mountains. Freezing blasts moaned through the forests and swept the plains. Fifty miles of rugged mountain ranges were to be traversed, through which no road had yet been opened. The march was commenced, without tents or baggage, and with but a light train of artillery, in consequence of the ruggedness of the way.

Washington was in the advance. His route led along the path by which the fugitives of Grant’s army had retreated. It was a melancholy march. The road presented continued traces of the awful defeat. It was strewed with human bones, picked clean by the wolves. These were the remains of beloved sons, husbands, fathers. Some had been cut down and scalped by the Indians. Some had thrown themselves on the ground, to die alone of exhaustion and hunger. Their panic-stricken companions could not remain, in their desperate flight, to nurse the sick or to bury the dead.

As the troops drew near Fort Duquesne the more numerous these mementoes of the awful past appeared. Washington advanced with the greatest caution, until he arrived within sight of the fort. He had anticipated a vigorous defence. But the signal successes of the British armies in Canada had prevented any reinforcement or supplies from being sent to Fort Duquesne. The intelligent officers saw, consequently, that they were in no condition to repel the very formidable army which Great Britain was marching against them.

The commandant had but five hundred men, and his provisions were nearly exhausted. As soon as the English army was within one day’s march of the fort, he at night embarked his troops, and nearly all the valuable material of the fortress, in several large flat-bottomed boats, blew up the magazine, reduced all the works to ashes, and, leaving but blackened ruins behind him, drifted down the rapid current of the Ohio.

In the chill and the gloom of the 25th of November, the English army reached the confluence of the Alleghany and the Monongahela rivers. There was neither fort, village, cabin, or wigwam there. Not an Indian or a Frenchman was to be seen. Not a gun, not a cartridge, not a particle of food was left behind. The grand eminences rose sublimely, as now. The two tranquil streams flowed rapidly along, as if eager to unite in forming La Belle Rivière. The primeval forest, in almost awful grandeur, covered hill and valley as far as the eye could extend. Silence and solitude reigned supreme. The French were driven out the valley, and the British flag was triumphantly unfurled.

Vigorous measures were adopted to erect another fort. It was called Fort Pitt, in honor of England’s illustrious minister. The domination of the French, in the valley of the Ohio, was at an end. The Indians promptly gave in their adhesion to the conquering power, entered into alliances with the English, and, for a short time, allowed peace to exist in that beautiful valley, which God apparently intended as one of the fairest gardens of our world.

Washington, with somewhat accumulated fame, returned to Virginia. On the 6th of January his marriage union with Mrs. Custis took place, at the White House, the attractive residence of the wealthy bride. A numerous assemblage of the distinguished gentlemen and ladies of the land graced the festive scene.[51]

Washington remained for three months, a happy man, with his bride at the White House. He then repaired to Williamsburg, to take his seat as representative in the House of Burgesses.[52] His prospects for a happy life were brilliant indeed. From his own family he had inherited a large fortune. His mental and personal attractions were extraordinary. His fame was enviable. Mr. Custis, the first husband of his wife, had left, in addition to a very large landed estate, money, well invested, amounting to two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. One-third of this fell to his widow in her own right. Two-thirds were inherited equally by her two children: a son of six years, and a daughter of four. Washington’s bride was, in all respects, everything his heart could wish. The two children were intelligent, amiable, and lovely in a high degree.

At the close of the session of the Assembly, he conducted his happy family to his favorite abode of Mount Vernon. In those blessed days of peace and domestic joy he wrote to a friend.[53]

“I am now, I believe, fixed in this seat, with an agreeable partner for life; and I hope to find more happiness in retirement than I ever experienced in the wide and bustling world.”

Most of our readers are familiar with the home of Washington, as it has been presented to them in the many engravings which have found their way to almost every fireside. The mansion, very spacious on the ground floor, was architecturally quite pleasing. It stood upon a smooth, green, velvety lawn, spreading several hundred feet down to the river which washed its eastern base. The prospect it commanded was magnificent. The eminence, in the rear, was crowned with the stately forest. The spacious estate, of two thousand five hundred acres, was divided into many highly cultivated farms. Much of the region was still covered with the forest, which the axe of the settler had never disturbed. Game of every variety abounded on the hills, and in the meadows and streamlets. A nobler hunting ground could perhaps nowhere be found. Washington, when but a stripling, had often ranged its vast expanse, where deer, foxes, and rabbits had found their favorite haunts; and where water-fowl floated, often in countless numbers, upon the creeks and lakelets. In one of Washington’s letters he writes enthusiastically, and yet truly:

“No estate in United America is more pleasantly situated. In a high and healthy country; in a latitude between the extremes of heat and cold; on one of the finest rivers in the world--a river well stocked with various kinds of fish at all seasons of the year, and, in the spring with shad, herring, bass, carp, sturgeon, etc., in great abundance. The borders of the estate are washed by more than ten miles of tide water. Several valuable fisheries appertain to it. The whole shore, in fact, is one entire fishery.”

Washington was, from his natural disposition, and also from the teachings of his mother, a devout man. The society in the midst of which he was born, and by which he was from childhood surrounded, was aristocratic in all its habits and tastes. Most of the wealthy planters were connected with the aristocratic families of England. They had brought over large sums of money, purchased extensive estates and were living in a style of splendor and of profuse hospitality unknown in any of the other colonies.

The governors, in particular, being appointed by the crown and who were generally men of wealth and high birth, endeavored to form their establishments on the pattern of miniature royalty. The Episcopal church, or church of England, was altogether predominant throughout the Dominion. Many of these haughty men maintained it merely as an essential part of the political organization of the British government. But Washington was a religious man in heart and in life. He was vestryman[54] of two parishes: Fairfax and Truro.

The parochial church of Fairfax was at Alexandria, ten miles from Mount Vernon. The church of the Truro parish was at Pohick, about seven miles distant. Washington had presented the plan of the latter church, and had built it almost at his own expense. He attended one or the other of these churches when the weather and the state of the roads would permit. He and Mrs. Washington were both communicants.

Notwithstanding the rapid increase of wealth and splendor in our land, the style of living, which prevailed among these opulent families in Virginia, has long ago faded away. Massive side-boards were generally, seen covered with glittering plate. The burglar was not feared in these large households. Superb carriages, drawn often by four blooded horses, all imported from England, conveyed the richly dressed families, through the forest roads, from mansion to mansion in their stately calls.

Washington had his chariot and four.[55] His black postilions, chosen for their manly beauty, were richly clad in livery. When he accompanied Lady Washington in any one of her drives, he, a splendid horseman, almost invariably appeared mounted, and their equipage would often surpass that of the minor dukes and princes of Europe.

Mr. Irving writes: “A large Virginia estate, in those days, was a little empire. The mansion-house was a seat of government, with its numerous dependencies, such as kitchens, smoke-house, workshops and stables. In this mansion the master ruled supreme; his steward, or overseer, was prime minister and executive officer. He had his legion of house negroes for domestic service, and his host of field negroes for the culture of tobacco, Indian corn, and other crops, and for other out-door labor.

“Their quarters formed a kind of hamlet, composed of various huts, with little gardens and poultry yards, all well stocked; and swarms of little negroes gambolling in the sunshine. Then there were large wooden edifices for curing tobacco, the staple and most profitable production, and mills for grinding wheat and Indian corn, of which large fields were cultivated for the supply of the family, and the maintenance of the negroes.

“Among the slaves were artificers of all kinds: tailors, shoemakers, carpenters, smiths, wheelwrights, and so forth. So that a plantation produced everything within itself for ordinary use. As to articles of fashion and elegance, and expensive clothing, they were imported from London; for the planters on the main rivers, especially the Potomac, carried on an immediate trade with England. Their tobacco was put up by their own negroes, bore their own marks, was shipped on board of vessels which came up the rivers for the purpose, and consigned to some agent in Liverpool or Bristol with whom the planter kept an account.”[56]