George Washington, Volume II

by Henry Cabot Lodge

GEORGE WASHINGTON

This last chapter cannot begin more fitly than by quoting again the words of Mr. McMaster: "George Washington is an unknown man." Mr. McMaster might have added that to no man in our history has greater injustice of a certain kind been done, or more misunderstanding been meted out, than to Washington, and although this sounds like the merest paradox, it is nevertheless true. From the hour when the door of the tomb at Mount Vernon closed behind his coffin to the present instant, the chorus of praise and eulogy has never ceased, but has swelled deeper and louder with each succeeding year. He has been set apart high above all other men, and reverenced with the unquestioning veneration accorded only to the leaders of mankind and the founders of nations; and in this very devotion lies one secret at least of the fact that, while all men have praised Washington, comparatively few have understood him. He has been lifted high up into a lonely greatness, and unconsciously put outside the range of human sympathy. He has been accepted as a being as nearly perfect as it is given to man to be, but our warm personal interest has been reserved for other and lesser men who seemed to be nearer to us in their virtues and their errors alike. Such isolation, lofty though it be, is perilous and leads to grievous misunderstandings. From it has come the widespread idea that Washington was cold, and as devoid of human sympathies as he was free from the common failings of humanity.

Of this there will be something to say presently, but meantime there is another more prolific source of error in regard to Washington to be considered. Men who are loudly proclaimed to be faultless always excite a certain kind of resentment. It is a dangerous eminence for any one to occupy. The temples of Greece are in ruins, and her marvelous literature is little more than a collection of fragments, but the feelings of the citizens who exiled Aristides because they were weary of hearing him called "just," exist still, unchanged and unchangeable. Washington has not only been called "just," but he has had every other good quality attributed to him by countless biographers and eulogists with an almost painful iteration, and the natural result has followed. Many persons have felt the sense of fatigue which the Athenians expressed practically by their oyster shells, and have been led to cast doubts on Washington's perfection as the only consolation for their own sense of injury. Then, again, Washington's fame has been so overshadowing, and his greatness so immutable, that he has been very inconvenient to the admirers and the biographers of other distinguished men. From these two sources, from the general jealousy of the classic Greek variety, and the particular jealousy born of the necessities of some other hero, much adverse and misleading criticism has come. It has never been a safe or popular amusement to assail Washington directly, and this course usually has been shunned; but although the attacks have been veiled they have none the less existed, and they have been all the more dangerous because they were insidious.

In his lifetime Washington had his enemies and detractors in abundance. During the Revolution he was abused and intrigued against, thwarted and belittled, to a point which posterity in general scarcely realizes. Final and conclusive victory brought an end to this, and he passed to the presidency amid a general acclaim. Then the attacks began again. Their character has been shown in a previous chapter, but they were of no real moment except as illustrations of the existence and meaning of party divisions. The ravings of Bache and Freneau, and the coarse insults of Giles, were all totally unimportant in themselves. They merely define the purposes and character of the party which opposed Washington, and but for him would be forgotten. Among his eminent contemporaries, Jefferson and Pickering, bitterly opposed in all things else, have left memoranda and letters reflecting upon the abilities of their former chief. Jefferson disliked him because he blocked his path, but with habitual caution he never proceeded beyond a covert sneer implying that Washington's mental powers, at no time very great, were impaired by age during his presidency, and that he was easily deceived by practised intriguers. Pickering, with more boldness, set Washington down as commonplace, not original in his thought, and vastly inferior to Hamilton, apparently because he was not violent, and did not make up his mind before he knew the facts.

Adverse contemporary criticism, however, is slight in amount and vague in character; it can be readily dismissed, and it has in no case weight enough to demand much consideration. Modern criticism of the same kind has been even less direct, but is much more serious and cannot be lightly passed over. It invariably proceeds by negations setting out with an apparently complete acceptance of Washington's greatness, and then assailing him by telling us what he was not. Few persons who have not given this matter a careful study realize how far criticism of this sort has gone, and there is indeed no better way of learning what Washington really was than by examining the various negations which tell us what he was not.

Let us take the gravest first. It has been confidently asserted that Washington was not an American in anything but the technical sense. This idea is more diffused than, perhaps, would be generally supposed, and it has also been formally set down in print, in which we are more fortunate than in many other instances where the accusation has not got beyond the elusive condition of loose talk.

In that most noble poem, the "Commemoration Ode," Mr. Lowell speaks of Lincoln as "the first American." The poet's winged words fly far, and find a resting-place in many minds. This idea has become widespread, and has recently found fuller expression in Mr. Clarence King's prefatory note to the great life of Lincoln by Hay and Nicolay.[¹] Mr. King says: "Abraham Lincoln was the first American to reach the lonely height of immortal fame. Before him, within the narrow compass of our history, were but two preëminent names,—Columbus the discoverer, and Washington the founder; the one an Italian seer, the other an English country gentleman. In a narrow sense, of course, Washington was an American.... For all that he was English in his nature, habits, moral standards, and social theories; in short, in all points which, aside from mere geographical position, make up a man, he was as thorough-going a British colonial gentleman as one could find anywhere beneath the Union Jack. The genuine American of Lincoln's type came later.... George Washington, an English commoner, vanquished George, an English king."

[Footnote 1: [(return)] Mr. Matthew Arnold, and more recently Professor Goldwin Smith, have both spoken of Washington as an Englishman. I do not mention this to discredit the statements of Mr. Lowell or Mr. King, but merely to indicate how far this mistaken idea has traveled.]

In order to point his sentence and prove his first postulate, Mr. King is obliged not only to dispose of Washington, but to introduce Columbus, who never was imagined in the wildest fantasy to be an American, and to omit Franklin. The omission of itself is fatal to Mr. King's case. Franklin has certainly a "preëminent name." He has, too, "immortal fame," although of course of a widely different character from that of either Washington or Lincoln, but he was a great man in the broad sense of a world-wide reputation. Yet no one has ever ventured to call Benjamin Franklin an Englishman. He was a colonial American, of course, but he was as intensely an American as any man who has lived on this continent before or since. A man of the people, he was American by the character of his genius, by his versatility, the vivacity of his intellect, and his mental dexterity. In his abilities, his virtues, and his defects he was an American, and so plainly one as to be beyond the reach of doubt or question. There were others of that period, too, who were as genuine Americans as Franklin or Lincoln. Such were Jonathan Edwards, the peculiar product of New England Calvinism; Patrick Henry, who first broke down colonial lines to declare himself an American; Samuel Adams, the great forerunner of the race of American politicians; Thomas Jefferson, the idol of American democracy. These and many others Mr. King might exclude on the ground that they did not reach the lonely height of immortal fame. But Franklin is enough. Unless one is prepared to set Franklin down as an Englishman, which would be as reasonable as to say that Daniel Webster was a fine example of the Slavic race, it must be admitted that it was possible for the thirteen colonies to produce in the eighteenth century a genuine American who won immortal fame. If they could produce one of one type, they could produce a second of another type, and there was, therefore, nothing inherently impossible in existing conditions to prevent Washington from being an American.

Lincoln was undoubtedly the first great American of his type, but that is not the only type of American. It is one which, as bodied forth in Abraham Lincoln, commands the love and veneration of the people of the United States, and the admiration of the world wherever his name is known. To the noble and towering greatness of his mind and character it does not add one hair's breadth to say that he was the first American, or that he was of a common or uncommon type. Greatness like Lincoln's is far beyond such qualifications, and least of all is it necessary to his fame to push Washington from his birthright. To say that George Washington, an English commoner, vanquished George, an English king, is clever and picturesque, but like many other pleasing antitheses it is painfully inaccurate. Allegiance does not make race or nationality. The Hindoos are subjects of Victoria, but they are not Englishmen.

Franklin shows that it was possible to produce a most genuine American of unquestioned greatness in the eighteenth century, and with all possible deference to Mr. Lowell and Mr. King, I venture the assertion that George Washington was as genuine an American as Lincoln or Franklin. He was an American of the eighteenth and not of the nineteenth century, but he was none the less an American. I will go further. Washington was not only an American of a pure and noble type, but he was the first thorough American in the broad, national sense, as distinct from the colonial American of his time.

After all, what is it to be an American? Surely it does not consist in the number of generations merely which separate the individual from his forefathers who first settled here. Washington was fourth in descent from the first American of his name, while Lincoln was in the sixth generation. This difference certainly constitutes no real distinction. There are people to-day, not many luckily, whose families have been here for two hundred and fifty years, and who are as utterly un-American as it is possible to be, while there are others, whose fathers were immigrants, who are as intensely American as any one can desire or imagine. In a new country, peopled in two hundred and fifty years by immigrants from the Old World and their descendants, the process of Americanization is not limited by any hard and fast rules as to time and generations, but is altogether a matter of individual and race temperament. The production of the well-defined American types and of the fixed national characteristics which now exist has been going on during all that period, but in any special instance the type to which a given man belongs must be settled by special study and examination.

Washington belonged to the English-speaking race. So did Lincoln. Both sprang from the splendid stock which was formed during centuries from a mixture of the Celtic, Teutonic, Scandinavian, and Norman peoples, and which is known to the world as English. Both, so far as we can tell, had nothing but English blood, as it would be commonly called, in their veins, and both were of that part of the English race which emigrated to America, where it has been the principal factor in the development of the new people called Americans. They were men of English race, modified and changed in the fourth and sixth generations by the new country, the new conditions, and the new life, and by the contact and admixture of other races. Lincoln, a very great man, one who has reached "immortal fame," was clearly an American of a type that the Old World cannot show, or at least has not produced. The idea of many persons in regard to Washington seems to be, that he was a great man of a type which the Old World, or, to be more exact, which England, had produced. One hears it often said that Washington was simply an American Hampden. Such a comparison is an easy method of description, nothing more. Hampden is memorable among men, not for his abilities, which there is no reason to suppose were very extraordinary, but for his devoted and unselfish patriotism, his courage, his honor, and his pure and lofty spirit. He embodied what his countrymen believe to be the moral qualities of their race in their finest flower, and no nation, be it said, could have a nobler ideal. Washington was conspicuous for the same qualities, exhibited in like fashion. Is there a single one of the essential attributes of Hampden that Lincoln also did not possess? Was he not an unselfish and devoted patriot, pure in heart, gentle of spirit, high of honor, brave, merciful, and temperate? Did he not lay down his life for his country in the box at Ford's Theatre as ungrudgingly as Hampden offered his in the smoke of battle upon Chalgrove field? Surely we must answer Yes. In other words, these three men all had the great moral attributes which are the characteristics of the English race in its highest and purest development on either side of the Atlantic. Yet no one has ever called Lincoln an American Hampden simply because Hampden and Washington were men of ancient family, members of an aristocracy by birth, and Lincoln was not. This is the distinction between them; and how vain it is, in the light of their lives and deeds, which make all pedigrees and social ranks look so poor and worthless! The differences among them are trivial, the resemblances deep and lasting.

I have followed out this comparison because it illustrates perfectly the entirely superficial character of the reasons which have led men to speak of Washington as an English country gentleman. It has been said that he was English in his habits, moral standards, and social theories, which has an important sound, but which for the most part comes down to a question of dress and manners. He wore black velvet and powdered hair, knee-breeches and diamond buckles, which are certainly not American fashions to-day. But they were American fashions in the last century, and every man wore them who could afford to, no matter what his origin. Let it be remembered, however, that Washington also wore the hunting-shirt and fringed leggins of the backwoodsman, and that it was he who introduced this purely American dress into the army as a uniform.

His manners likewise were those of the century in which he lived, formal and stately, and of course colored by his own temperament. His moral standards were those of a high-minded, honorable man. Are we ready to say that they were not American? Did they differ in any vital point from those of Lincoln? His social theories were simple in the extreme. He neither overvalued nor underrated social conventions, for he knew that they were a part of the fabric of civilized society, not vitally important and yet not wholly trivial. He was a member of an aristocracy, it is true, both by birth and situation. There was a recognized social aristocracy in every colony before the Revolution, for the drum-beat of the great democratic march had not then sounded. In the northern colonies it was never strong, and in New England it was especially weak, for the governments and people there were essentially democratic, although they hardly recognized it themselves. In Virginia and the southern colonies, on the other hand, there was a vigorous aristocracy resting on the permanent foundation of slavery. Where slaves are there must be masters, and where there are masters there are aristocrats; but it was an American and not an English aristocracy. Lineage and family had weight in the south as in the north, but that which put a man undeniably in the ruling class was the ownership of black slaves and the possession of a white skin. This aristocracy lasted with its faults and its virtues until it perished in the shock of civil war, when its foundation of human slavery was torn from under it. From the slave-holding aristocracy of Virginia came, with the exception of Patrick Henry, all the great men of that State who did so much for American freedom, and who rendered such imperishable service to the republic in law, in politics, and in war. From this aristocracy came Marshall, and Mason, and Madison, the Lees, the Randolphs, the Harrisons, and the rest. From it came also Thomas Jefferson, the hero of American democracy; and to it was added Patrick Henry, not by lineage or slave-holding, but by virtue of his brilliant abilities, and because he, too, was an aristocrat by the immutable division of race. It was this aristocracy into which Washington was born, and amid which he was brought up. To say that it colored his feelings and habits is simply to say that he was human; but to urge that it made him un-American is to exclude at once from the ranks of Americans all the great men given to the country by the South. Washington, in fact, was less affected by his surroundings, and rose above them more quickly, than any other man of his day, because he was the greatest man of his time, with a splendid breadth of vision.

When he first went among the New England troops at the siege of Boston, the rough, democratic ways of the people jarred upon him, and offended especially his military instincts, for he was not only a Virginian but he was a great soldier, and military discipline is essentially aristocratic. These volunteer soldiers, called together from the plough and the fishing-smack, were free and independent men, unaccustomed to any rule but their own, and they had still to learn the first rudiments of military service. To Washington, soldiers who elected and deposed their officers, and who went home when they felt that they had a right to do so, seemed well-nigh useless and quite incomprehensible. They angered him and tried his patience almost beyond endurance, and he spoke of them at the outset in harsh terms by no means wholly unwarranted. But they were part of his problem, and he studied them. He was a soldier, but not an aristocrat wrapped up in immutable prejudices, and he learned to know these men, and they came to love, obey, and follow him with an intelligent devotion far better than anything born of mere discipline. Before the year was out, he wrote to Lund Washington praising the New England troops in the highest terms, and at the close of the war he said that practically the whole army then was composed of New England soldiers. They stayed by him to the end, and as they were steadfast in war so they remained in peace. He trusted and confided in New England, and her sturdy democracy gave him a loyal and unflinching support to the day of his death.

This openness of mind and superiority to prejudice were American in the truest and best sense; but Washington showed the same qualities in private life and toward individuals which he displayed in regard to communities. He was free, of course, from the cheap claptrap which abuses the name of democracy by saying that birth, breeding, and education are undemocratic, and therefore to be reckoned against a man. He valued these qualities rightly, but he looked to see what a man was and not who he was, which is true democracy. The two men who were perhaps nearest to his affections were Knox and Hamilton. One was a Boston bookseller, who rose to distinction by bravery and good service, and the other was a young adventurer from the West Indies, without either family or money at his back. It was the same with much humbler persons. He never failed, on his way to Philadelphia, to stop at Wilmington and have a chat with one Captain O'Flinn, who kept a tavern and had been a Revolutionary soldier; and this was but a single instance among many of like character. Any soldier of the Revolution was always sure of a welcome at the hands of his old commander. Eminent statesmen, especially of the opposition, often found his manner cold, but no old soldier ever complained of it, no servant ever left him, and the country people about Mount Vernon loved him as a neighbor and friend, and not as the distant great man of the army and the presidency.

He believed thoroughly in popular government. One does not find in his letters the bitter references to democracy and to the populace which can be discovered in the writings of so many of his party friends, legacies of pre-revolutionary ideas inflamed by hatred of Parisian mobs. He always spoke of the people at large with a simple respect, because he knew that the future of the United States was in their hands and not in that of any class, and because he believed that they would fulfill their mission. The French Revolution never carried him away, and when it bred anarchy and bloodshed he became hostile to French influence, because license and disorder were above all things hateful to him. Yet he did not lose his balance in the other direction, as was the case with so many of his friends. He resisted and opposed French ideas and French democracy, so admired and so loudly preached by Jefferson and his followers, because he esteemed them perilous to the country. But there is not a word to indicate that he did not think that such dangers would be finally overcome, even if at the cost of much suffering, by the sane sense and ingrained conservatism of the American people. Other men talked more noisily about the people, but no one trusted them in the best sense more than Washington, and his only fear was that evils might come from their being misled by false lights.

Once more, what is it to be an American? Putting aside all the outer shows of dress and manners, social customs and physical peculiarities, is it not to believe in America and in the American people? Is it not to have an abiding and moving faith in the future and in the destiny of America?—something above and beyond the patriotism and love which every man whose soul is not dead within him feels for the land of his birth? Is it not to be national and not sectional, independent and not colonial? Is it not to have a high conception of what this great new country should be, and to follow out that ideal with loyalty and truth?

Has any man in our history fulfilled these conditions more perfectly and completely than George Washington? Has any man ever lived who served the American people more faithfully, or with a higher and truer conception of the destiny and possibilities of the country? Born of an old and distinguished family, he found himself, when a boy just out of school, dependent on his mother, and with an inheritance that promised him more acres than shillings. He did not seek to live along upon what he could get from the estate, and still less did he feel that it was only possible for him to enter one of the learned professions. Had he been an Englishman in fact or in feeling, he would have felt very naturally the force of the limitations imposed by his social position. But being an American, his one idea was to earn his living honestly, because it was the creed of his country that earning an honest living is the most creditable thing a man can do. Boy as he was, he went out manfully into the world to win with his own hands the money which would make him self-supporting and independent. His business as a surveyor took him into the wilderness, and there he learned that the first great work before the American people was to be the conquest of the continent. He dropped the surveyor's rod and chain to negotiate with the savages, and then took up the sword to fight them and the French, so that the New World might be secured to the English-speaking race. A more purely American training cannot be imagined. It was not the education of universities or of courts, but that of hard-earned personal independence, won in the backwoods and by frontier fighting. Thus trained, he gave the prime of his manhood to leading the Revolution which made his country free, and his riper years to building up that independent nationality without which freedom would have been utterly vain.

He was the first to rise above all colonial or state lines, and grasp firmly the conception of a nation to be formed from the thirteen jarring colonies. The necessity of national action in the army was of course at once apparent to him, although not to others; but he carried the same broad views into widely different fields, where at the time they wholly escaped notice. It was Washington, oppressed by a thousand cares, who in the early days of the Revolution saw the need of Federal courts for admiralty cases and for other purposes. It was he who suggested this scheme, years before any one even dreamed of the Constitution; and from the special committees of Congress, formed for this object in accordance with this advice, came, in the process of time, the Federal judiciary of the United States.[¹] Even in that early dawn of the Revolution, Washington had clear in his own mind the need of a continental system for war, diplomacy, finance, and law, and he worked steadily to bring this policy to fulfilment.

[Footnote 1: [(return)] See the very interesting memoir on this subject by the Hon. J.C. Bancroft Davis.]

When the war was over, the thought that engaged his mind most was of the best means to give room for expansion, and to open up the unconquered continent to the forerunners of a mighty army of settlers. For this purpose all his projects for roads, canals, and surveys were formed and forced into public notice. He looked beyond the limits of the Atlantic colonies. His vision went far over the barriers of the Alleghanies; and where others saw thirteen infant States backed by the wilderness, he beheld the germs of a great empire. While striving thus to lay the West open to the march of the settler, he threw himself into the great struggle, where Hamilton and Madison, and all who "thought continentally," were laboring for that union without which all else was worse than futile.

From the presidency of the convention that formed the Constitution, he went to the presidency of the government which that convention brought into being; and in all that followed, the one guiding thought was to clear the way for the advance of the people, and to make that people and their government independent in thought, in policy, and in character, as the Revolution had made them independent politically. The same spirit which led him to write during the war that our battles must be fought and our victories won by Americans, if victory and independence were to be won at all, or to have any real and solid worth, pervaded his whole administration. We see it in his Indian policy, which was directed not only to pacifying the tribes, but to putting it out of their power to arrest or even delay western settlement. We see it in his attitude toward foreign ministers, and in his watchful persistence in regard to the Mississippi, which ended in our securing the navigation of the great river. We see it again in his anxious desire to keep peace until we had passed the point where war might bring a dissolution; and how real that danger was, and how clear and just his perception of it, is shown by the Kentucky and Virginia Resolutions and by the separatist movement in New England during the later war of 1812. Even in 1812 the national existence was menaced, but the danger would have proved fatal if it had come twenty years earlier, with parties divided by their sympathies with contending foreign nations. It was for the sake of the Union that Washington was so patient with France, and faced so quietly the storm of indignation aroused by the Jay treaty.

In his whole foreign policy, which was so peculiarly his own, the American spirit was his pole star; and of all the attacks made upon him, the only one which really tried his soul was the accusation that he was influenced by foreign predilections. The blind injustice, which would not comprehend that his one purpose was to be American and to make the people and the government American, touched him more deeply than anything else. As party strife grew keener over the issues raised by the war between France and England, and as French politics and French ideas became more popular, his feelings found more frequent utterance, and it is interesting to see how this man, who, we are now told, was an English country gentleman, wrote and felt on this matter in very trying times. Let us remember, as we listen to him now in his own defense, that he was an extremely honest man, silent for the most part in doing his work, but when he spoke meaning every word he said, and saying exactly what he meant. This was the way in which he wrote to Patrick Henry in October, 1795, when he offered him the secretaryship of State:—

"My ardent desire is, and my aim has been as far as depended upon the executive department, to comply strictly with all our engagements, foreign and domestic; but to keep the United States free from political connection with every other country, to see them independent of all and under the influence of none. In a word, I want an American character, that the powers of Europe may be convinced that we act for ourselves, and not for others. This, in my judgment, is the only way to be respected abroad and happy at home; and not, by becoming partisans of Great Britain or France, create dissensions, disturb the public tranquillity, and destroy, perhaps forever, the cement which binds the Union."

Not quite a year later, when the Jay treaty was still agitating the public mind in regard to our relations with France, he wrote to Pickering:—

"The Executive has a plain road to pursue, namely, to fulfill all the engagements which duty requires; be influenced beyond this by none of the contending parties; maintain a strict neutrality unless obliged by imperious circumstances to depart from it; do justice to all, and never forget that we are Americans, the remembrance of which will convince us that we ought not to be French or English."

After leaving the presidency, when our difficulties with France seemed to be thickening, and the sky looked very dark, he wrote to a friend saying that he firmly believed that all would come out well, and then added: "To me this is so demonstrable, that not a particle of doubt could dwell on my mind relative thereto, if our citizens would advocate their own cause, instead of that of any other nation under the sun; that is, if, instead of being Frenchmen or Englishmen in politics they would be Americans, indignant at every attempt of either or any other powers to establish an influence in our councils or presume to sow the seeds of discord or disunion among us."

A few days later he wrote to Thomas Pinckney:

"It remains to be seen whether our country will stand upon independent ground, or be directed in its political concerns by any other nation. A little time will show who are its true friends, or, what is synonymous, who are true Americans."

But this eager desire for a true Americanism did not stop at our foreign policy, or our domestic politics. He wished it to enter into every part of the life and thought of the people, and when it was proposed to bring over the entire staff of a Genevan university to take charge of a national university here, he threw his influence against it, expressing grave doubts as to the advantage of importing an entire "seminary of foreigners," for the purpose of American education. The letter on this subject, which was addressed to John Adams, then continued:—

"My opinion with respect to emigration is that except of useful mechanics, and some particular descriptions of men or professions, there is no need of encouragement; while the policy or advantage of its taking place in a body (I mean the settling of them in a body) may be much questioned; for by so doing they retain the language, habits, and principles, good or bad, which they bring with them. Whereas by an intermixture with our people, they or their descendants get assimilated to our customs, measures, and laws; in a word, soon become one people."

He had this thought so constantly in his mind that it found expression in his will, in the clause bequeathing certain property for the foundation of a university in the District of Columbia. "I proceed," he said, "after this recital for the more correct understanding of the case, to declare that it has always been a source of serious regret with me to see the youth of these United States sent to foreign countries for the purposes of education, often before their minds were formed, or they had imbibed any adequate ideas of the happiness of their own; contracting too frequently not only habits of dissipation and extravagance, but principles unfriendly to republican government and to the true and genuine liberties of mankind, which thereafter are rarely overcome; for these reasons it has been my ardent wish to see a plan devised on a liberal scale, which would have a tendency to spread systematic ideas through all parts of this rising empire, thereby to do away with local attachments and state prejudices, as far as the nature of things would or indeed ought to admit, from our national councils."

Were these the words of an English country gentleman, who chanced to be born in one of England's colonies? Persons of the English country gentleman pattern at that time were for the most part loyalists; excellent people, very likely, but not of the Washington type. Their hopes and ideals, their policies and their beliefs were in the mother country, not here. The faith, the hope, the thought, of Washington were all in the United States. His one purpose was to make America independent in thought and action, and he strove day and night to build up a nation. He labored unceasingly to lay the foundations of the great empire which, with almost prophetic vision, he saw beyond the mountains, by opening the way for the western movement. His foreign policy was a declaration to the world of a new national existence, and he strained every nerve to lift our politics from the colonial condition of foreign issues. He wished all immigration to be absorbed and moulded here, so that we might be one people, one in speech and in political faith. His last words, given to the world after the grave had closed over him, were a solemn plea for a home training for the youth of the Republic, so that all men might think as Americans, untainted by foreign ideas, and rise above all local prejudices. He did not believe that mere material development was the only or the highest goal; for he knew that the true greatness of a nation was moral and intellectual, and his last thoughts were for the up-building of character and intelligence. He was never a braggart, and mere boasting about his country as about himself was utterly repugnant to him. He never hesitated to censure what he believed to be wrong, but he addressed his criticisms to his countrymen in order to lead them to better things, and did not indulge in them in order to express his own discontent, or to amuse or curry favor with foreigners. In a word, he loved his country, and had an abiding faith in its future and in its people, upon whom his most earnest thoughts and loftiest aspirations were centred. No higher, purer, or more thorough Americanism than his could be imagined. It was a conception far in advance of the time, possible only to a powerful mind, capable of lifting itself out of existing conditions and alien influences, so that it might look with undazzled gaze upon the distant future. The first American in the broad national sense, there has never been a man more thoroughly and truly American than Washington. It will be a sorry day when we consent to take that noble figure from "the forefront of the nation's life," and rank George Washington as anything but an American of Americans, instinct with the ideas, as he was devoted to the fortunes of the New World which gave him birth.

There is another class of critics who have attacked Washington from another side. These are the gentlemen who find him in the way of their own heroes. Washington was a man of decided opinions about men as well as measures, and he was extremely positive. He had his enemies as well as his friends, his likes and his dislikes, strong and clear, according to his nature. The respect which he commanded in his life has lasted unimpaired since his death, and it is an awkward thing for the biographers of some of his contemporaries to know that Washington opposed, distrusted, or disliked their heroes. Therefore, in one way or another they have gone round a stumbling-block which they could not remove. The commonest method is to eliminate Washington by representing him vaguely as the great man with whom every one agreed, who belonged to no party, and favored all; then he is pushed quietly aside. Evils and wrong-doing existed under his administration from the opposition point of view, but they were the work of his ministers and of wicked advisers. The king could do no wrong, and this pleasant theory, which is untrue in fact, amounts to saying that Washington had no opinions, but was simply a grand and imposing figure-head. The only ground for it which is even suggested is that he sought advice, that he used other men's ideas, and that he made up his mind slowly. All this is true, and these very qualities help to show his greatness, for only small minds mistake their relations with the universe, and confuse their finite powers with omniscience. The great man, who sees facts and reads the future, uses other men, knows the bounds of possibility in action, can decide instantly if need be, but leaves rash conclusions to those who are incapable of reaching any others. In reality there never was a man who had more definite and vigorous opinions than Washington, and the responsibility which he bore he never shifted to other shoulders. The work of the Revolution and the presidency, whether good or bad, was his own, and he was ready to stand or fall by it.

There is a still further extension of the idea that Washington represented all parties and all views, and had neither party nor opinions of his own. This theory is to the effect that he was great by character alone, but that in other respects he did not rise above the level of dignified common-place. Such, for instance, is apparently the view of Mr. Parton, who in a clever essay discusses in philosophical fashion the possible advantages arising from the success attained by mere character, as in the case of Washington. Mr. Parton points his theory by that last incident of counting the pulse as death drew nigh. How characteristic, he exclaims, of the methodical, common-place man, is such an act. It was not common, be it said, even were it common-place. It was certainly a very simple action, but rare enough so far as we know on the every-day deathbed, or in the supreme hour of dying greatness, and it was wholly free from that affectation which Dr. Johnson thought almost inseparable from the last solemn moment. Irregularity is not proof of genius any more than method, and of the two, the latter is the surer companion of greatness. The last hour of Washington showed that calm, collected courage which had never failed in war or peace; and so far it was proof of character. But was it not something more? The common-place action of counting the pulse was in reality profoundly characteristic, for it was the last exhibition of the determined purpose to know the truth, and grasp the fact. Death was upon him; he would know the fact. He had looked facts in the face all his life, and when the mists gathered, he would face them still.

High and splendid character, great moral qualities for after-ages to admire, he had beyond any man of modern times. But to suppose that in other respects he belonged to the ranks of mediocrity is not only a contradiction in terms, but utterly false. It was not character that fought the Trenton campaign and carried the revolution to victory. It was military genius. It was not character that read the future of America and created our foreign policy. It was statesmanship of the highest order. Without the great moral qualities which he possessed, his career would not have been possible; but it would have been quite as impossible if the intellect had not equaled the character. There is no need to argue the truism that Washington was a great man, for that is universally admitted. But it is very needful that his greatness should be rightly understood, and the right understanding of it is by no means universal. His character has been exalted at the expense of his intellect, and his goodness has been so much insisted upon both by admirers and critics that we are in danger of forgetting that he had a great mind as well as high moral worth.

This false attitude both of praise and criticism has been so persisted in that if we accept the premises we are forced to the conclusion that Washington was actually dull, while with much more openness it is asserted that he was cold and at times even harsh. "In the mean time," says Mr. McMaster, "Washington was deprived of the services of the only two men his cold heart ever really loved." "A Cromwell with the juice squeezed out," says Carlyle somewhere, in his rough and summary fashion. Are these judgments correct? Was Washington really, with all his greatness, dull and cold? He was a great general and a great President, first in war and first in peace and all that, says our caviler, but his relaxation was in farm accounts, and his business war and politics. He could plan a campaign, preserve a dignified manner, and conduct an administration, but he could write nothing more entertaining than a state paper or a military report. He gave himself up to great affairs, he was hardly human, and he shunned the graces, the wit, and all the salt of life, and passed them by on the other side.

That Washington was serious and earnest cannot be doubted, for no man could have done what he did and been otherwise. He had little time for the lighter sides of life, and he never exerted himself to say brilliant and striking things. He was not a maker of phrases and proclamations, and the quality of the charlatan, so often found in men of the highest genius, was utterly lacking in him. He never talked or acted with an eye to dramatic effect, and this is one reason for the notion that he was dull and dry; for the world dearly loves a little charlatanism, and is never happier than in being brilliantly duped. But was he therefore really dull and juiceless, unlovable and unloving? Responsibility came upon him when a boy, and he was hardly of age when he was carrying in his hands the defense of his colony and the heavy burden of other human lives. Experience like this makes a man who is good for anything sober; but sobriety is not dullness, and if we look a little below the surface we find the ready refutation of such an idea. In his letters and even in the silent diaries we detect the keenest observation. He looked at the country, as he traveled, with the eye of the soldier and the farmer, and mastered its features and read its meaning with rapid and certain glance. It was not to him a mere panorama of fields and woods, of rivers and mountains. He saw the beauties of nature and the opportunities of the farmer, the trader, or the manufacturer wherever his gaze rested. He gathered in the same way the statistics of the people and of their various industries. In the West Indies, on the Virginian frontier, in his journeys when he was President, he read the story of all he saw as he would have read a book, and brought it home with him for use.

In the same way he read and understood men, and had that power of choosing among them which is essential in its highest form to the great soldier or statesman. His selection never erred unless in a rare instance like that of Monroe, forced on him by political exigencies, or when the man of his choice would not serve. Congress chose Gates for the southern campaign, but Washington selected Greene, in whom he saw great military ability before any one else realized it. He took Hamilton, young and unknown, from the captaincy of an artillery company, and placed him on his personal staff. He bore with Hamilton's outbreak of temper, kept him ever in his confidence, and finally gave him the opportunity to prove himself the most brilliant of American statesmen. In the crowd of foreign volunteers, the men whom he especially selected and trusted were Lafayette and Steuben, each in his way of real value to the service. Even more remarkable than the ability to recognize great talent was his capacity to weigh and value with a nice exactness the worth of men who did not rise to the level of greatness. There is a recently published letter, too long for quotation here, in which he gives his opinions of all the leading officers of the Revolution,[¹] and each one shows the most remarkable insight, as well as a sharp definiteness of outline that indicates complete mastery. These compact judgments were so sound that even the lapse of a century and all the study of historians and biographers find nothing in their keen analysis to alter and little to add. He did not expect to discover genius everywhere, or to find a marshal's baton in every knapsack, but he used men according to their value and possibilities, which is quite as essential as the preliminary work of selection. His military staff illustrated this faculty admirably. Every man, after a few trials and changes, fitted his place and did his particular task better than any one else could have done it. Colonel Meade, loyal and gallant, a good soldier and planter, said that Hamilton did the headwork of Washington's staff and he the riding. When the war was drawing to a close, Washington said one day to Hamilton, "You must go to the Bar, which you can reach in six months." Then turning to Meade, "Friend Dick, you must go to your plantation; you will make a good farmer, and an honest foreman of the grand jury."[²] The prediction was exactly fulfilled, with all that it implied, in both cases. But let it not be supposed that there was any touch of contempt in the advice to Meade. On the contrary, there was a little warmer affection, if anything, for he honored success in any honest pursuit, especially in farming, which he himself loved. But he distinguished the two men perfectly, and he knew what each was and what each meant. It seems little to say, but if we stop to think of it, this power to read men aright and see the truth in them and about them is a power more precious than any other bestowed by the kindest of fairy godmothers. The lame devil of Le Sage looked into the secrets of life through the roofs of houses, and much did he find of the secret story of humanity. But the great man looking with truth and kindliness into men's natures, and reading their characters and abilities in their words and acts, has a higher and better power than that attributed to the wandering sprite, for such a man holds in his hand the surest key to success. Washington, quiet and always on the watch, after the fashion of silent greatness, studied untiringly the ever recurring human problems, and his just conclusions were powerful factors in the great result. He was slow, when he had plenty of time, in adopting a policy or plan, or in settling a public question, but he read men very quickly. He was never under any delusion as to Lee, Gates, Conway, or any of the rest who engaged against him because they were restless from the first under the suspicion that he knew them thoroughly. Arnold deceived him because his treason was utterly inconceivable to Washington, and because his remarkable gallantry excused his many faults. But with this exception it may be safely said that Washington was never misled as to men, either as general or President. His instruments were not invariably the best and sometimes failed him, but they were always the best he could get, and he knew their defects and ran the inevitable risks with his eyes open. Such sure and rapid judgments of men and their capabilities were possible only to a man of keen perception and accurate observation, neither of which is characteristic of a slow or common-place mind.

[Footnote 1: [(return)] Magazine of American History, vol. iii., 1879, p. 81.]

[Footnote 2: [(return)] Memoir of Rt. Rev. William Meade, by Philip Slaughter, D.D., p. 7.]

These qualities were, of course, gifts of nature, improved and developed by the training of a life of action on a great scale. He had received, indeed, little teaching except that of experience, and the world of war and politics had been to him both school and college. His education had been limited in the extreme, scarcely going beyond the most rudimentary branches except in mathematics, and this is very apparent in his early letters. He seems always to have written a handsome hand and to have been good at figures, but his spelling at the outset was far from perfect, and his style, although vigorous, was abrupt and rough. He felt this himself, took great pains to correct his faults in this respect, and succeeded, as he did in most things. Mr. Sparks has produced a false impression in this matter by smoothing and amending in very extensive fashion all the earlier letters, so as to give an appearance of uniformity throughout the correspondence; a process which not only destroyed much of the vigor and force of the early writings, but made them somewhat unnatural. The surveyor and frontier soldier wrote very differently from the general of the army and the President of the United States, and the improvements of Mr. Sparks only served to hide the real man.[¹]

[Footnote 1: [(return)] These facts in regard to Washington's early letters, and to his correspondence generally, were first brought to public attention by the Reed letters, and by the controversy between Mr. Sparks and Lord Mahon. They have, of course, been long familiar to students of the original manuscripts. The full extent, however, of the changes made by Mr. Sparks, and of the mischief he wrought, and of the injustice thus done both to his hero and to posterity, has but lately been made known generally by the new edition of Washington's papers which have been published, under the supervision of Mr. W.C. Ford. Washington himself, when he undertook to arrange his military and state papers after his retirement from the presidency, began to correct the style of some of his earlier letters. This was natural enough, and he had a right to do what he pleased with his own, even if he thereby injured the material of the future historian and biographer. But he did not proceed far in his work, and the fact that he corrected a few of his own letters gave Mr. Sparks no right whatever to enter upon a wholesale revision.]

If Washington had been of coarse fibre and heavy mind, this lack of education would have troubled him but little. His great success in that case would have served only to convince him of the uselessness of education except for inferior persons, who could not get along in the world without artificial aids. As it was, he never ceased to regret his deficiency in this respect, and when Humphreys urged him to prepare a history or memoirs of the war, he replied: "In a former letter I informed you, my dear Humphreys, that if I had talent for it, I have not leisure to turn my thoughts to commentaries. A consciousness of a defective education and a certainty of a want of time unfit me for such an undertaking." He was misled by his own modesty as to his capacity, but his strong feeling as to his lack of schooling haunted and troubled him always, although it did not make him either indifferent or bitter. He only admired more that which he himself had missed. He regarded education, and especially the higher forms, with an almost pathetic reverence, and its advancement was never absent from his thoughts. When he was made chancellor of the college of William and Mary, he was more deeply pleased than by any honor ever conferred upon him, and he accepted the position with a diffidence and a seriousness which were touching in such a man. In the same spirit he gave money to the Alexandria Academy, and every scheme to promote public education in Virginia had his eager support. His interest was not confined by state lines, for there was nothing so near his heart as the foundation of a national university. He urged its establishment upon Congress over and over again, and, as has been seen, left money in his will for its endowment.

All his sympathies and tastes were those of a man of refined mind, and of a lover of scholarship and sound learning. Naturally a very modest man, and utterly devoid of any pretense, he underrated, as a matter of fact, his own accomplishments. He distrusted himself so much that he always turned to Hamilton, both during the Revolution and afterwards, as well as in the preparation of the farewell address, to aid him in clothing his thoughts in a proper dress, which he felt himself unable to give them. His tendency was to be too diffuse and too involved, but as a rule his style was sufficiently clear, and he could express himself with nervous force when the occasion demanded, and with a genuine and stately eloquence when he was deeply moved, as in the farewell to Congress at the close of the war. It is not a little remarkable that in his letters after the first years there is nothing to betray any lack of early training. They are the letters, not of a scholar or a literary man, but of an educated gentleman; and although he seldom indulged in similes or allusions, when he did so they were apt and correct. This was due to his perfect sanity of mind, and to his aversion to all display or to any attempt to shine in borrowed plumage. He never undertook to speak or write on any subject, or to make any reference, which he did not understand. He was a lover of books, collected a library, and read always as much as his crowded life would permit. When he was at Newburgh, at the close of the war, he wrote to Colonel Smith in New York to send him the following books:—

"Charles the XIIth of Sweden.

Lewis the XVth, 2 vols.

History of the Life and Reign of the Czar Peter the Great.

Campaigns of Marshal Turenne.

Locke on the Human Understanding.

Robertson's History of America, 2 vols.

Robertson's History of Charles V.

Voltaire's Letters.

Life of Gustavus Adolphus.

Sully's Memoirs.

Goldsmith's Natural History.

Mildman on Trees.

Vertot's Revolution of Rome, 3 vols.

Vertot's Revolution of Portugal, 3 vols.

{The Vertot's if they are in estimation.}

If there is a good Bookseller's shop in the City, I would thank you for sending me a catalogue of the Books and their prices that I may choose such as I want."

His tastes ran to history and to works treating of war or agriculture, as is indicated both by this list and some earlier ones. It is not probable that he gave so much attention to lighter literature, although he wrote verses in his youth, and by an occasional allusion in his letters he seems to have been familiar with some of the great works of the imagination, like "Don Quixote."[¹]

[Footnote 1: [(return)] At his death the appraisers of the estate found 863 volumes in his library, besides a great number of pamphlets, magazines, and maps. This was a large collection of books for those days, and showed that the possessor, although purely a man of affairs, loved reading and had literary tastes.]

He never freed himself from the self-distrust caused by his profound sense of his own deficiencies in education, on the one hand, and his deep reverence for learning, on the other. He had fought the Revolution, which opened the way for a new nation, and was at the height of his fame when he wrote to the French officers, who begged him to visit France, that he was "too old to learn French or to talk with ladies;" and it was this feeling in a large measure which kept him from ever being a maker of phrases or a sayer of brilliant things. In other words, the fact that he was modest and sensitive has been the chief cause of his being thought dull and cold. This idea, moreover, is wholly that of posterity, for there is not the slightest indication on the part of any contemporary that Washington could not talk well and did not appear to great advantage in society. It is posterity, looking with natural weariness at endless volumes of official letters with all the angles smoothed off by the editorial plane, that has come to suspect him of being dull in mind and heavy in wit. His contemporaries knew him to be dignified and often found him stern, but they never for a moment considered him stupid, or thought him a man at whom the shafts of wit could be shot with impunity. They were fully conscious that he was as able to hold his own in conversation as he was in the cabinet or in the field; and we can easily see the justice of contemporary opinion if we take the trouble to break through the official bark and get at the real man who wrote the letters. In many cases we find that he could employ irony and sarcasm with real force, and his powers of description, even if stilted at times, were vigorous and effective. All these qualities come out strongly in his letters, if carefully read, and his private correspondence in particular shows a keenness and point which the formalities of public intercourse veiled generally from view. We are fortunate in having the account of a disinterested and acute observer of the manner in which Washington impressed a casual acquaintance in conversation. The actor Bernard, whom we have already quoted, and whom we left with Washington at the gates of Mount Vernon, gives us the following vivid picture of what ensued:—

"In conversation his face had not much variety of expression. A look of thoughtfulness was given by the compression of the mouth and the indentations of the brow (suggesting an habitual conflict with, and mastery over, passion), which did not seem so much to disdain a sympathy with trivialities as to be incapable of denoting them. Nor had his voice, so far as I could discover in our quiet talk, much change or richness of intonation, but he always spoke with earnestness, and his eyes (glorious conductors of the light within) burned with a steady fire which no one could mistake for mere affability; they were one grand expression of the well-known line: 'I am a man, and interested in all that concerns humanity.' In one hour and a half's conversation he touched on every topic that I brought before him with an even current of good sense, if he embellished it with little wit or verbal elegance. He spoke like a man who had felt as much as he had reflected, and reflected more than he had spoken; like one who had looked upon society rather in the mass than in detail, and who regarded the happiness of America but as the first link in a series of universal victories; for his full faith in the power of those results of civil liberty which he saw all around him led him to foresee that it would, erelong, prevail in other countries, and that the social millennium of Europe would usher in the political. When I mentioned to him the difference I perceived between the inhabitants of New England and of the Southern States, he remarked: 'I esteem those people greatly; they are the stamina of the Union and its greatest benefactors. They are continually spreading themselves too, to settle and enlighten less favored quarters. Dr. Franklin is a New Englander.' When I remarked that his observations were flattering to my country, he replied, with great good-humor, 'Yes, yes, Mr. Bernard, but I consider your country the cradle of free principles, not their armchair. Liberty in England is a sort of idol; people are bred up in the belief and love of it, but see little of its doings. They walk about freely, but then it is between high walls; and the error of its government was in supposing that after a portion of their subjects had crossed the sea to live upon a common, they would permit their friends at home to build up those walls about them.' A black coming in at this moment with a jug of spring water, I could not repress a smile, which the general at once interpreted. 'This may seem a contradiction,' he continued, 'but I think you must perceive that it is neither a crime nor an absurdity. When we profess, as our fundamental principle, that liberty is the inalienable right of every man, we do not include madmen or idiots; liberty in their hands would become a scourge. Till the mind of the slave has been educated to perceive what are the obligations of a state of freedom, and not confound a man's with a brute's, the gift would insure its abuse. We might as well be asked to pull down our old warehouses before trade has increased to demand enlarged new ones. Both houses and slaves were bequeathed to us by Europeans, and time alone can change them; an event, sir, which, you may believe me, no man desires more heartily than I do. Not only do I pray for it, on the score of human dignity, but I can already foresee that nothing but the rooting out of slavery can perpetuate the existence of our Union, by consolidating it in a common bond of principle.'

"I now referred to the pleasant hours I had passed in Philadelphia, and my agreeable surprise at finding there so many men of talent, at which his face lit up vividly. 'I am glad to hear you, sir, who are an Englishman, say so, because you must now perceive how ungenerous are the assertions people are always making on your side of the water. One gentleman, of high literary standing,—I allude to the Abbé Raynal,—has demanded whether America has yet produced one great poet, statesman, or philosopher. The question shows anything but observation, because it is easy to perceive the causes which have combined to render the genius of this country scientific rather than imaginative. And, in this respect, America has surely furnished her quota. Franklin, Rittenhouse, and Rush are no mean names, to which, without shame, I may append those of Jefferson and Adams, as politicians; while I am told that the works of President Edwards of Rhode Island are a text-book in polemics in many European colleges.'

"Of the replies which I made to his inquiries respecting England, he listened to none with so much interest as to those which described the character of my royal patron, the Prince of Wales. 'He holds out every promise,' remarked the general, 'of a brilliant career. He has been well educated by events, and I doubt not that, in his time, England will receive the benefit of her child's emancipation. She is at present bent double, and has to walk with crutches; but her offspring may teach her the secret of regaining strength, erectness, and independence.' In reference to my own pursuits he repeated the sentiments of Franklin. He feared the country was too poor to be a patron of the drama, and that only arts of a practical nature would for some time be esteemed. The stage he considered to be an indispensable resource for settled society, and a chief refiner; not merely interesting as a comment on the history of social happiness by its exhibition of manners, but an agent of good as a school for poetry, in holding up to honor the noblest principles. 'I am too old and too far removed,' he added, 'to seek for or require this pleasure myself, but the cause is not to droop on my account. There's my friend Mr. Jefferson has time and taste; he goes always to the play, and I'll introduce you to him,' a promise which he kept, and which proved to me the source of the greatest benefit and pleasure."

This is by far the best account of Washington in the ordinary converse of daily life that has come down to us. The narrator belonged to the race who live by amusing their fellow-beings, and are in consequence quick to notice peculiarities and highly susceptible to being bored. Bernard, after the first interest of seeing a very eminent man had worn off, would never have lingered for an hour and a half of chat and then gone away reluctantly if his host had been either dull of speech or cold and forbidding of manner. It is evident that Washington talked well, easily, and simply, ranging widely over varied topics with a sure touch, and that he drew from the ample resources of a well-stored and reflective mind. The scraps of conversation which Bernard preserves are interesting and above the average of ordinary talk, without manifesting any attempt to be either brilliant or striking, and it is also apparent that Washington had the art of putting his guest entirely at his ease by his own pleasant and friendly manner. He had picked up the English actor on the road, liked his readiness to be helpful (always an attraction to him in any one), found him well-mannered and intelligent, and brought him home to rest and chat in the pleasant summer afternoon. To Bernard he was simply the plain Virginia gentleman, with a liberal and cultivated interest in men and things, and not a trace of oppressive and conscious greatness about him. It is to be suspected that he was by no means equally genial to the herd of sight-seers who pursued him in his retirement, but in this meeting he appeared as he must always have appeared to his family and friends.

We get the same idea from the scattered allusions that we have to Washington in private life. Although silent and reserved as to himself, he was by no means averse to society, and in his own house all his guests, both great and small, felt at their ease with him, although with no temptation to be familiar. We know from more than one account that the dinners at the presidential house, as well as at Mount Vernon, were always agreeable. It was his wont to sit at table after the cloth was removed sipping a glass of wine and eating nuts, of which he was very fond, while he listened to the conversation and caused it to flow easily, not so much by what he said as by the kindly smile and ready sympathy which made all feel at home. We can gather an idea also of the charm which he had in the informal intercourse of daily life from some of his letters on trifling matters. Here is a little note written to Mrs. Stockton in acknowledgment of a pastoral poem which she had sent him:—

"MOUNT VERNON, February 18, 1784.

"Dear Madam: The intemperate weather and very great care which the post riders take of themselves prevented your letter of the 4th of last month from reaching my hands till the 10th of this. I was then in the very act of setting off on a visit to my aged mother, from whence I am just returned. These reasons I beg leave to offer as an apology for my silence until now.

"It would be a pity indeed, my dear madam, if the muses should be restrained in you; it is only to be regretted that the hero of your poetical talents is not more deserving their lays. I cannot, however, from motives of pure delicacy (because I happen to be the principal character in your Pastoral) withhold my encomiums on the performance; for I think the easy, simple, and beautiful strain with which the dialogue is supported does great justice to your genius; and will not only secure Lucinda and Amista from wits and critics, but draw from them, however unwillingly, their highest plaudits; if they can relish the praises that are given, as they must admire the manner of bestowing them.

"Mrs. Washington, equally sensible with myself of the honor you have done her, joins me in most affectionate compliments to yourself, and the young ladies and gentlemen of your family.

"With sentiments of esteem, regard and respect, I have the honor to be —— ——"

This is not a matter of "great pith or moment," but it shows how pleasantly he could acknowledge a civility. The turn of the sentences smacks of the formality of the time. They sound a little labored, perhaps, to modern ears, but they were graceful according to the standard of his day, and they have a gentle courtesy which can never be out of fashion.

He had the power also of paying a compliment in an impressive and really splendid manner whenever he felt it to be deserved. When Charles Thomson, who for fifteen years had been the honored secretary of the Continental Congress, wrote to announce his retirement, Washington replied: "The present age does so much justice to the unsullied reputation with which you have always conducted yourself in the execution of the duties of your office, and posterity will find your name so honorably connected with the verification of such a multitude of astonishing facts, that my single suffrage would add little to the illustration of your merits. Yet I cannot withhold any just testimonial in favor of so old, so faithful, and so able a public officer, which might tend to soothe his mind in the shades of retirement. Accept, then, this serious declaration, that your services have been important, as your patriotism was distinguished; and enjoy that best of all rewards, the consciousness of having done your duty well."

Dull men do not write in this fashion. It is one thing to pay a handsome compliment, although even that is not by itself easy, but to give it in addition the note of sincerity which alone makes it of real value demands both art and good feeling. Let us take one more example of this sort before we drop the subject. When the French officers were leaving America Washington wrote to De Chastellux to bid him farewell. "Our good friend, the Marquis of Lafayette," he said, "prepared me, long before I had the honor to see you, for those impressions of esteem which opportunities and your own benevolent mind have since improved into a deep and lasting friendship; a friendship which neither time nor distance can eradicate. I can truly say that never in my life have I parted with a man to whom my soul clave more sincerely than it did to you. My warmest wishes will attend you in your voyage across the Atlantic to the rewards of a generous prince, the arms of affectionate friends; and be assured that it will be one of my highest gratifications to keep up a regular intercourse with you by letter."

These letters exhibit not only the grace and point born of intelligence, but also the best of manners; by which I mean private manners, not those of the public man, of which there will be something to say hereafter. The attraction of Washington's society as a private gentleman lay in his good sense, breadth of knowledge, and good manners. Now the essence of good manners of the highest and most genuine kind is good feeling, which is thoughtful of others, and which is impossible to a cold, hard, or insensible nature. Such manners as we see in Washington's private letters and private life would have been strange offspring from the cold heart attributed to him by Mr. McMaster. In justice to Mr. McMaster, however, be it said, the charge is not a new one. It has been hinted at and spoken of elsewhere, and many persons have suspected that such was the case from the well-meant efforts of what may be called the cherry-tree school to elevate Washington's character by depicting him as a soulless, bloodless prig. The blundering efforts of the latter need not be noticed, but the reflections of serious critics cannot be passed by. The theory of the cold heart and the unfeeling nature seems to proceed in this wise. Washington was silent and reserved, he did not wear his heart upon his sleeve for daws to peck at, therefore he was cold; just as if mere noise and chatter had any relation to warm affections. He would take no salary from Congress, says Mr. McMaster, in fine antithesis, but he exacted his due from the family of the poor mason. This has an unpleasant sound, and suggests the man who is generous in public, and hard and grasping in private. Mr. McMaster in this sentence, however, whether intentionally or not, is not quite accurate in his facts, and conveys by his mode of statement an entirely false impression. The story to which he refers is given by Parkinson, who wrote a book about his experiences in America in 1798-1800. Parkinson had the story from one General Stone, and it was to this effect:[¹] A room was plastered at Mount Vernon on one occasion, and was paid for during the owner's absence. When Washington returned he examined the work and had it measured, as was his habit. It then appeared that an error had been made, and that fifteen shillings too much had been paid. Meantime the plasterer had died. His widow married again, and her second husband advertised in the newspapers that he was prepared to pay the debts of his predecessor and collect all moneys due him. Thereupon Washington put in his claim, which was paid as a matter of course. He did not extort the debt from the family of the poor mason, but collected it from the second husband of the widow, in response to a voluntary advertisement. It was very careful and even close dealing, but it was neither harsh nor unjust, and the writer who has preserved the story would be not a little surprised at the interpretation that has been put upon it, for he cited it, as he expressly says, merely to illustrate the extraordinary regularity and method to which he attributed much of Washington's success.

[Footnote 1: [(return)] Parkinson's Tour in America, 1798-1800, 437 and ff.]

Parkinson, in this same connection, tells several other stories, vague in origin, and sounding like mere gossip, but still worthy of consideration. According to one of them, Washington maintained a public ferry, which was customary among the planters, and the public paid regular tolls for its use. On one occasion General Stone, the authority for the previous anecdote, crossed the ferry and offered a moidore in payment. The ferryman objected to receiving it, on the ground that it was short weight, but Stone insisted, and it was finally accepted. On being given to Washington it was weighed, and being found three half-pence short, the ferryman was ordered to collect the balance due. On another occasion a tenant could not make the exact change in paying his rent, and Washington would not accept the money until the tenant went to Alexandria and brought back the precise sum. There is, however, still another anecdote, which completes this series, and which shows a different application of the same rule. Washington, in traveling, was in the habit of paying at inns the same for his servants as for himself. An innkeeper once charged him three shillings and ninepence for himself, and three shillings for his servant. Thereupon Washington sent for his host, said that his servant ate as much as he, and insisted on paying the additional ninepence.

This extreme exactness in money matters, down even to the most trifling sums, was no doubt a foible, but it is well to observe that it was not a foible which sought only a selfish advantage, for the rule which he applied to others he applied also to himself. He meant to have his due, no matter how trivial, and he meant also that others should have theirs. In trifles, as in greater things, he was scrupulously just, and although he was always generous and ready to give, he insisted rigidly on what was justly his. A gift was one thing, a business transaction was another. The man himself who told these very stories was a good example of the kindliness which went hand in hand with this exactness in business affairs. Parkinson was an Englishman, of great narrowness of mind, who came out here to be a farmer, failed, and went home to write a book in denunciation of the country. America never had a more hostile critic. According to this profound observer, there was no good land in America, and no possibility of successful agriculture. The horses were bad, the cattle were bad, and sheep-raising was impossible. There was no game, the fish and oysters were poor and watery, and no one could ever hope in this wretchedly barren land for either wealth or comfort. It was a country fit only for the reception of convicts, and the cast-off mistress of an Englishman made a good wife for an American. A person who held such views as these was not likely to be biased in favor of anything American, and his evidence as to Washington may be safely trusted as not likely to be unduly favorable. He tells us that on his arrival at Mount Vernon, with letters of introduction, he was kindly received; that this hospitality was never relaxed; and that the general lent him money. He was at least grateful, and these are his last words as to Washington:—

"To me he appeared a mild, friendly man, in company rather reserved, in private speaking with candor. His behavior to me was such that I shall ever revere his name.

"General Washington lived a great man, and died the same.

"I am of opinion that the general never knowingly did anything wrong, but did to all men as he would they should do to him."

Evidently he appeared to Mr. Parkinson kindly and generous, as well as exactly just. It is well to have the truth about Washington, and nothing but the truth. Yet in escaping from the falsehoods of the eulogist and the myth-maker, let us beware of those which spring from the reaction against the current and accepted views. I have quoted the Parkinson stories at length, because they enforce this point admirably. No a priori theory is safe, and to assume that Washington must have committed grave errors and been guilty of mean actions because they are common to humanity, and have not been admitted in his case, is just as misleading as to assume, as is usually done, that he was absolutely perfect and without fault.

Let it be admitted that Washington, ever ready to pay his own dues, was strict, and sometimes severe, in demanding them of others; but let it be also remembered, this is the worst that can be said. He was always ready to overlook faults of omission or commission; he would pardon easily mismanagement or extravagance on his estate or in his household; but he had no mercy for anything that savored of ingratitude, treachery, or dishonesty, and he carried this same feeling into public as well as private affairs. No officer who had bravely done his best had anything to fear in defeat from Washington's anger. He was never unjust, and he was always kind to misfortune or mistake, but to the coward or the traitor he was entirely unforgiving. This it was which made Arnold's treason so bitter to him. Not only had he been deceived, but the country as well as himself had been most basely betrayed; and for this reason he was relentless to André, whom it is said he never saw, living or dead. The young Englishman had taken part in a wretched piece of treachery, and for the sake of the country, and as a warning to traitors, Washington would not spare him. He would never have ordered a political prisoner to be taken out and shot in a ditch, after the fashion of Napoleon; nor would he have dealt with any people as the Duke of Cumberland dealt with the clansmen after Culloden. Such performances would have seemed to him wanton as well as cruel, and he was too wise and too humane a man to be either. Indian atrocities, for instance, with which he was familiar, never led him to retaliate in kind. But he was perfectly prepared to exact the extremest penalty by just and recognized methods; and had it not been for the urgent entreaties of his friends, he would have sent Asgill to the scaffold, repugnant as it was to his feelings, because he felt that the murder of Huddy was a crime for which the English army was responsible, and which demanded a just and striking vengeance. He was, it may be freely confessed, of anything but a tame nature. There was a good deal of Berserker in his make-up, and he was fierce in his anger when he believed that a great wrong had been done. But because he was stern and unrelenting when he felt that justice and his duty required him to be so, no more proves that he had a cold heart than does the fact that he was silent, dignified, and reserved. Cold-blooded men are not fierce in seeking to redress the wrongs of others, nor are the fluent of speech the only kind and generous members of the human family.

Washington's whole life, indeed, contradicts the charge that he was cold of heart and sluggish of feeling. The man who wrote as he did in his extreme youth, when Indians were harrying the frontier where he commanded, was not lacking in humanity or sympathy; and such as he then was he remained to the end of his life. A soldier by instinct and experience, he never grew indifferent to the miseries of war. Human suffering always appealed to him and moved him deeply, and when it was wantonly inflicted stirred him to anger and to the desire for the wild justice of revenge.

The goodness and kindness of man's heart, however, are much more truly shown in the little details of life than in the great matters which affect classes or communities. Washington was considerate and helpful to all men, and if he was ever cold and distant in his manner, it was to the great, and not to the poor or humble. As has been indicated by his recognition of the actor Bernard, he had in high degree the royal gift of remembering names and faces. When he was at Senator Dalton's house in Newburyport, on his New England tour of 1789, he met an old servant whom he had not seen since the French war, thirty years before. He knew the man at once, spoke to him, and welcomed him. So it was with the old soldiers of the Revolution, who were always sure of a welcome, and, if he had ever seen them, of a recognition. No man ever turned from his presence wounded by a cold forgetfulness. When he was at Ipswich, on this same journey, Mr. Cleaveland, the minister of the town, was presented to him. As he approached, hat in hand, Washington said, "Put on your hat, parson, and I will shake hands with you." "I cannot wear my hat in your presence, general," was the reply, "when I think of what you have done for this country." "You did as much as I." "No, no," protested the parson. "Yes," said Washington, "you did what you could, and I've done no more." What a gracious, kindly courtesy is this, and not without the salt of wit! Does it not show the perfection of good manners which deals with all men for what they are, and is full of a warm sympathy born of a good heart? He was criticised for coldness and accused of monarchical leanings, because, at Mrs. Washington's receptions and his own public levees, he stood, dressed in black velvet, with one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other behind his back, and shook hands with no one, although he talked with all. He did this because he thought it became the President of the United States upon state occasions, and his sense of the dignity of his office was always paramount. But away from forms and ceremonies, with the old servant or the old soldier, or the country parson, his hand was never behind his back, and his manners were those of a great but simple gentleman, and came straight from a kind heart, full of sympathy and good feeling.

He was, too, the most hospitable of men in the best sense, and his house was always open to all who came. When he was away during the war or the presidency, his instructions to his agents were to keep up the hospitality of Mount Vernon, just as if he had been there himself; and he was especially careful in directing that, if there were general distress, poor persons of the neighborhood should have help from his kitchen or his granaries.

His own more immediate hospitality was of the same kind. He always entertained in the most liberal manner, both as general and President, and in a style which he thought befitted the station he occupied. But apart from all this, his table, whether at home or abroad, was never without its guest. "Dine with us," he wrote to Lear on July 31, 1797, "or we shall do what we have not done for twenty years, dine alone." The real hospitality which opens the door and spreads the board for the friend or stranger, admitting them to the family without form or ceremony, was his also. "My manner of living is plain," he wrote to a friend after the Revolution; "I do not mean to be put out of it. A glass of wine and a bit of mutton are always ready; and such as will be content to partake of them are always welcome. Those who expect more will be disappointed, but no change will be effected by it." Genuine hospitality as unstinted as it was sincere was not characteristic of a cold man, or of one who sought to avoid his fellows. It is one of the lighter graces of life, perhaps, but when it comes freely and simply, and not as a vehicle for the display or the aggrandizement of its dispenser, it is not without a meaning to the student of character.

Washington was not much given to professions of friendship, nor was he one of the great men who keep a circle of intimates and sometimes of flatterers about them. He was extremely independent of the world and perfectly self-sufficing, but it is a mistake to suppose that because he unbosomed himself to scarcely any one, and had the loneliness of greatness and of high responsibilities, he was therefore without friends. He had as many friends as usually fall to the lot of any man; and although he laid bare his inmost heart to none, some were very close and all were very dear to him. In war and politics, as has already been said, the two men who came nearest to him were Hamilton and Knox, and his diary shows that when he was President he consulted with them nearly every day wholly apart from the regular cabinet meetings. They were the two advisers who were friends as well as secretaries, and who followed and sustained him as a matter of affection as much as politics. At home his neighbor, George Mason, although they came to differ, was a strong friend whom he liked and respected, and whose opinion, whether favorable or adverse, he always sought. His feeling to Patrick Henry was much deeper than mere political or official acquaintance, and the lovable qualities of the brilliant orator, clear even now across the gulf of a century, were evidently strongly felt by Washington. They differed about the Constitution, but Washington was eager at a later day to have Henry by his side in the cabinet, and in the last years they stood shoulder to shoulder in defense of the Union with a personal sympathy deeper than any born of a mere similarity of opinion. Henry Lee, the son of his old sweetheart, he loved with a tender and peculiar affection. He watched over him and helped him, rejoiced in the dashing gallantry which made him famous as Light-horse Harry, and, when he had won civil as well as military distinction, trusted him and counseled with him. Dr. Craik, the companion of his youth and his life-long physician, was always a dear and close friend, and the regard between the two is very pleasant to look at, as we see it glancing out here and there in the midst of state papers and official cases. For the officers of the army he had a peculiarly warm feeling, and he had among them many close friends, like Carrington of Virginia, and Charles Cotesworth Pinckney of South Carolina. His immediate staff he regarded with especial affection, and it is worthy of notice that they all not only admired their great chief, but followed him with a personal devotion which is not a little curious if Washington was cold of heart and distant of manner in the intimate association of a military family.

This feeling for his soldiers and his officers extended also to those civilians who had stood by him and the army, and who had labored for victory in all those trying years. Such a one was old Governor Trumbull, "Brother Jonathan," who never failed to respond when a call was made for men and money, and upon whose friendship and advice Washington always leaned. Such, too, were Robert and Gouverneur Morris. The sacrifices and energy of the one and the zeal and brilliant abilities of the other endeared both to him, and his friendship for them never wavered when misfortune overtook the elder, and when the younger was driven by malice, both foreign and domestic, from the place he had filled so well. Another, again, of this kind was Franklin. In the dark days of the old French war, Washington had seen displayed for the first time the force and tact of Franklin, which alone obtained the necessary wagons and enabled Braddock's army to move. The early impression thus obtained was never lost, and Franklin's patriotism, his sympathy for the general and the army in the Revolution, as well as the stanch support he gave them, aroused in Washington a sense of obligation and friendship of the sincerest kind. In proportion as he loathed ingratitude was he grateful himself. He loved Franklin for his friendship and support, he admired him for his successful diplomacy, and he reverenced him for his scientific attainments. The only American whose fame could for a moment come in competition with his own, he regarded the old philosopher with affectionate veneration, and when, after his own fashion, and not at all after the fashion of the time, he arrived in Philadelphia on the exact day set for the Constitutional Convention, his first act was to call upon Dr. Franklin and pay his respects to him. The courtesy and kindliness of this little act on the part of a man who had come to the town in the midst of shouting crowds, with joy bells ringing above his head, speak well for the simple, honest heart that dictated it.

After all, it may be said that a passing civility of this sort involved but little trouble, and was more a matter of good-breeding than anything else. Let us look, then, at another and widely different case. Of all the men whom the fortunes of war brought across Washington's path there was none who became dearer to him than Lafayette, for the generous, high-spirited young Frenchman, full of fresh enthusiasm and brave as a lion, appealed at once to Washington's heart. He quickly admitted him to his confidence, and the excellent service of Lafayette in the field, together with his invaluable help in securing the French alliance, deepened and strengthened the sympathy and affection which were entirely reciprocal. After Lafayette departed, a constant correspondence was maintained; and when the Bastille fell, it was to Washington that Lafayette sent its key, which still hangs on the wall of Mt. Vernon. As Lafayette rose rapidly to the dangerous heights of revolutionary leadership, he had at every step Washington's advice and sympathy. Then the tide turned; he fell headlong from power, and brought up in an Austrian prison. From that moment Washington spared no pains to help his unhappy friend, although his own position was one of extreme difficulty. Lafayette was not only the proscribed exile of one country, but also the political prisoner of another, and the President could not compromise the United States at that critical moment by showing too much interest in the fate of his unhappy friend. He nevertheless went to the very edge of prudence in trying to save him, and the ministers of the United States were instructed to use every private effort to secure Lafayette's release, or at least the mitigation of his confinement. All these attempts failed, but Washington was more successful in other directions. He sent money to Madame de Lafayette, who was absolutely beggared at the moment, and represented to her that it was in settlement of an account which he owed the marquis. When Lafayette's son and his own namesake came to this country for an asylum, he had him cared for in Boston and New York by his personal friends; George Cabot in the one case, and Hamilton in the other. As soon as public affairs made it proper for him to do it, he took the lad into his own household, treated him like a son, and kept him near him until events permitted the boy to return to Europe and rejoin his father. The sufferings and dangers of Lafayette and his family were indeed a source of great unhappiness to Washington, and we have the authority of Bradford, his attorney-general, that when the President attempted to talk about Lafayette he was so much affected that he shed tears,—a very rare exhibition of emotion in a man so intensely reserved.

Absence had as little effect upon his memory of old friends as misfortune. The latter stimulated recollection, and the former could not dim it. He found time, in the very heat and fire of war and revolution, to write to Bryan Fairfax lamenting the death of "the good old lord" whose house had been open to him, and whose hand had ever helped him when he was a young and unknown man just beginning his career. When he returned to Mount Vernon after the presidency, full of years and honors, one of his first acts was to write to Mrs. Fairfax in England to assure her of his lasting remembrance, and to breathe a sigh over the changes time had brought, and over the by-gone years when they had been young together.

The loyalty of nature which made his remembrance of old friends so real and lasting found expression also in the thoughtfulness which he showed toward casual acquaintances, and this was especially the case when he had received attention or service at any one's hands, or when he felt that he was able to give pleasure by a slight effort on his own part. A little incident which occurred during the first year of his presidency illustrates this trait in his character very well. Uxbridge was one among the many places where he stopped on his New England tour, and when he got to Hartford he wrote to Mr. Taft, who had been his host in the former town, and who evidently cherished for him a very keen admiration, the following note:—

"November 8, 1789.

"Sir: Being informed that you have given my name to one of your sons, and called another after Mrs. Washington's family, and being moreover very much pleased with the modest and innocent looks of your two daughters, Patty and Polly, I do for these reasons send each of these girls a piece of chintz; and to Patty, who bears the name of Mrs. Washington, and who waited more upon us than Polly did, I send five guineas, with which she may buy herself any little ornament she may want, or she may dispose of them in any other manner more agreeable to herself. As I do not give these things with a view to having it talked of, or even to its being known, the less there is said about the matter the better you will please me; but, that I may be sure the chintz and money have got safe to hand, let Patty, who I dare say is equal to it, write me a line informing me thereof, directed to 'The President of the United States at New York.' I wish you and your family well, and am," etc.

Let us turn now from friendship to nearer and closer relations. Washington was not only too reserved, but he had too much true sentiment, to leave his correspondence with Mrs. Washington behind him; for he knew that his vast collection of papers would become the material of history, and he had no mind that strangers should look into the sacred recesses of his private life. Only one letter to Mrs. Washington apparently has survived. It is simple and full of affection, as one would expect, and tells, as well as many volumes could, of the happy relations between husband and wife. Washington had many love affairs in his youth, but he proved in the end a constant lover. His wife was a high-bred, intelligent woman, simple and dignified in her manners, efficient in all ways to be the helpmate of her husband in the high places to which he was called. No shadow ever rested on their married life, and when the end came Mrs. Washington only said, "All is over now. I shall soon follow him." She could not conceive of life without the presence of the unchanging love and noble character which had been by her side so long.

Children were denied to Washington, but although this was a disappointment it did not chill him nor narrow his sympathies, as is so often the case. He took to his heart his wife's children as if they were his own. He watched over them and cared for them, and their deaths caused him the deepest sorrow. He afterwards adopted his wife's two grandchildren, and watched over them, too, in the same way. In the midst of all the cares of the presidency, Washington found time always to write to George Custis, a boy at school or at college; while Nellie Custis was as dear to him as his own daughter, and her marriage a source of the most affectionate interest. Indeed, it is evident from various little anecdotes that he was much less strict with these children than was Mrs. Washington, and much more disposed to condone faults. Certain it is that they loved him tenderly, and in a way that only long years of loving-kindness could have made possible.

He showed the same feeling to all his own kindred. His mother was ever the object of the most loyal affection, and even at the head of the armies he would turn aside to visit her with the same respect and devotion as when he was a mere boy. He was ever mindful of his brothers and sisters, and their fortunes. None of them were ever forgotten, and he was especially kind to the children of those who had been least fortunate and most needed his help. He educated and counseled his favorite nephew Bushrod, and did the same for the sons of George Steptoe Washington. Nothing is pleasanter than to read in the midst of official papers the long letters in which he gave these boys great store of wise and kindly advice, guided their education, strove to form their characters, and traced for them the honorable careers which he wished them to pursue. Very few men who had risen to the heights reached by Washington would have found time, in the midst of engrossing cares, to write such letters as he wrote to friends and kinsmen. A kind heart prompted them, but they were much more than merely kind, for when Washington undertook to do anything he did it thoroughly. Whether it was a treaty with England, the education of a boy, or the service of a friend, he gave it his best thought and his utmost care. Where those he loved were concerned, he was never too busy to think of them, and he spared no pains to help them; censuring faults where they existed, and giving praise in generous manner where praise was due.

To any one who carefully studies his life, it is evident that Washington was as warm-hearted and affectionate as he was great in character and ability, and that he was so without noise or pretense. This really only amounts to saying that he was a well-balanced man, and yet even this cannot be said without admitting still another quality. The sanest of all senses is the sense of humor, and the nature in which it is wholly lacking cannot be thoroughly rounded and complete. Humor is not the most lofty of qualities, but it is one of the most essential, and it is generally assumed that Washington was very deficient in humor. This idea has arisen from a hasty consideration of the subject, and from a superficial conception of humor itself. To utter jests, or to say or write witty, brilliant, or amusing things, no doubt implies the possession of humor, but they are not the whole of it, for a man may have a fine sense of humor, and yet never make a joke nor utter a sarcasm. The distinction between humor and the want of it lies much deeper than word of mouth. The man without a sense of humor is sure to make a certain number of solemn blunders. They may be in matters of importance or in the merest trifles, but they are blunders none the less, and come from insensibility to the incongruous, the ludicrous, or the impossible. It may be said that common sense suffices to avoid these pitfalls, but this is really begging the question, inasmuch as common sense of a high order amounting almost to genius cannot exist without humor, for humor is the root and foundation of common sense. Let us apply this test to Washington and we shall find that there never was a man who made fewer mistakes than he, down even to matters of the smallest detail. Search his career from beginning to end, and there is not a solemn blunder to be found in it. He was attacked and assailed both as general and President, but he was never laughed at. In other words, he had a sense of humor which made it impossible for him to blunder solemnly, or to do or say anything which ridicule could touch.

It is not, however, necessary to leave his possession of a sense of humor to inference from his career and his freedom from blunders. That he had humor strong, sane, and abundant is susceptible of much more direct proof; and the idea that he was lacking in this respect arose undoubtedly from the gravity of demeanor which was characteristic of the man. He had assumed the heavy responsibilities of an important military command in the French war at an age when most men are just leaving college and beginning to study a profession. This of itself sobered him, and added to his natural quiet and reserve, so that in estimating him in after-life this early and severe discipline at a most impressionable age ought never to be overlooked, for it had a very marked effect upon his character.

He was not perhaps exactly joyous or gay of nature, but he had a contented and happy disposition, and, like all robust, well-balanced men, he possessed strong animal spirits and a keen sense of enjoyment. He loved a wild, open-air life, and was devoted to rough out-door sports. He liked to wrestle and run, to shoot, ride or dance, and to engage in all trials of skill and strength, for which his great muscular development suited him admirably. With such tastes, it followed almost as a matter of course that he loved laughter and fun. Good, hearty, country fun, a ludicrous mishap, a practical joke, all merriment of a simple, honest kind, were highly congenial to him, especially in his youth and early manhood. Here is the way, for example, in which he described in his diary a ball he attended in 1760: "In a convenient room, detached for the purpose, abounded great plenty of bread and butter, some biscuits, with tea and coffee which the drinkers of could not distinguish from hot water sweetened. Be it remembered that pocket handkerchiefs served the purposes of tablecloths, and that no apologies were made for them. I shall therefore distinguish this ball by the style and title of the bread-and-butter ball." The wit is not brilliant, but there was a good hearty laugh in the young man who jots down this little memorandum in his diary.

The years after the French war were happy years, free from care and full of simple pleasures. Then came the Revolution, bringing with it a burden such as has seldom been laid upon any man, and the seriousness bred by earlier experiences, came back with tenfold force. The popular saying was that Washington never smiled during the war, and, roughly speaking, this was quite true. In all those years of danger and trial, inasmuch as he was a man big of heart and brain, he had the gravity and the sadness born of responsibility, and the suffering sure to come to an unselfish mind. It was at this time that he began to be most closely observed of men, and hence came the idea that he never laughed, and therefore was a being devoid of humor, the most sympathetic of gifts. But as a matter of fact, the old sense of fun never left him. It would come to his aid at the most serious moments, just as an endless flow of stories brought relief to Lincoln and carried him round many jagged corners. With Washington it was hearty, laughing mirth at some ludicrous incident. Putnam riding into Cambridge with an old woman clinging behind him; Greene searching for his wig while it was on his head; a young braggart flung over the head of an unbroken colt; or a good, rollicking story from Colonel Seammel or Major Fairlie,—all these would delight Washington, and send him off into peals of inextinguishable laughter. It was ever the old, hearty love of fun born of animal spirits, which never left him, and which would always break out on sufficient provocation. Mr. Parton would have us believe that this was all, and that the common-place hero whom he describes never rose above the level of the humor conveyed by grinning through a horse-collar. Even admitting the truth of this, a real love of honest fun and of a hearty laugh is a kindly quality that all men like.

But was this all? Is it quite true that Washington had only a love of boisterous fun, and nothing else? It is worth looking a little deeper than the current stories of the camp to find out, and yet one of these very camp-stories raises at once a strong suspicion that Mr. Parton's conclusion in this regard, like so many conclusions about Washington, is unfounded. When General Lee took the oath of allegiance to the United States, he remarked, in making abjuration of his former allegiance, that he was perfectly ready to abjure the king, but could not bring himself to abjure the Prince of Wales, at which bit of irony Washington was greatly amused. The wit of the remark is a little cold to-day, but at the moment, accompanying as it did a solemn act of abjuration, it was keen enough. Washington himself, moreover, was perfectly capable of good-natured banter. Colonel Humphreys challenged him one day to jump over a hedge. Washington, always ready to accept a challenge where riding was concerned, told the colonel to go on. Humphreys put his horse at the hedge, cleared it, and landed in a quagmire on the other side up to his horse's girths; whereupon Washington rode up, stopped, and looking blandly at his struggling friend, remarked, "Ah, colonel, you are too deep for me." "Take care," he wrote to young Custis, when he sent him money for his college gown, "not to buy without advice; otherwise you may be more distinguished by your folly than your dress."

We find in his letters here and there a good-natured raillery, and jesting, which show a sense of humor that goes beyond the limits of mere fun and horse-play. Here is a letter he wrote toward the close of the war, asking some ladies to dine with him in his quarters at West Point:—

"WEST POINT, August 16, 1779.

"Dear Doctor: I have asked Mrs. Cochran and Mrs. Livingston to dine with me to-morrow; but ought I not to apprise you of their fare? As I hate deception, even where imagination is concerned, I will.

"It is needless to premise that my table is large enough to hold the ladies: of this they had ocular demonstration yesterday. To say how it is usually covered is rather more essential, and this shall be the purport of my letter.

"Since my arrival at this happy spot, we have had a ham, sometimes a shoulder of bacon, to grace the head of the table. A piece of roast beef adorns the foot, and a small dish of green beans—almost imperceptible—decorates the centre. When the cook has a mind to cut a figure,—and this I presume he will attempt to-morrow,—we have two beefsteak pies, or dishes of crabs, in addition, one on each side of the centre dish, dividing the space, and reducing the distance between dish and dish to about six feet, which without them would be nearly twelve feet apart. Of late he has had the surprising luck to discover that apples will make pies; and it is a question if, amidst the violence of his efforts, we do not get one of apples instead of having both of beef.

"If the ladies can put up with such entertainment, and submit to partake of it on plates once tin, but now iron, not become so by the labor of hard scouring, I shall be happy to see them."

We may be sure that the ladies found their dinner a pleasant one, and that the writer of the note was neither a stiff nor unsocial host. A much more charming letter is one to Nellie Custis, on the occasion of her first ball. It is too long for quotation, but it is a model of affectionate wisdom tinged with a gentle humor, and designed to guide a young girl just beginning the world of society.

Here, however, is another extract from a letter to Madame de Lafayette, of rather more serious purport, but in the same strain, and full of a simple and, as we should call it, an old-fashioned grace. He was replying to an invitation to visit France, which he felt obliged to decline. After giving his reasons, he said: "This, my dear Marchioness (indulge the freedom), is not the case with you. You have youth (and, if you should incline to leave your children, you can leave them with all the advantages of education), and must have a curiosity to see the country, young, rude, and uncultivated as it is, for the liberties of which your husband has fought, bled, and acquired much glory, where everybody admires, everybody loves him. Come, then, let me entreat you, and call my cottage your home; for your own doors do not open to you with more readiness than mine would. You will see the plain manner in which we live, and meet with rustic civility; and you shall taste the simplicity of rural life. It will diversify the scene, and may give you a higher relish for the gayeties of the court when you return to Versailles."

There is also apparent in many of his letters a vein of worldly wisdom, shrewd but kindly, too gentle to be called cynical, and yet touched with the humor which reads and appreciates the foibles of humanity. Of an officer who grumbled at disappointments during the war he wrote: "General McIntosh is only experiencing upon a small scale what I have had an ample share of upon a large one; and must, as I have been obliged to do in a variety of instances, yield to necessity; that is, to use a vulgar phrase, 'shape his coat according to his cloth,' or in other words, if he cannot do as he wishes, he must do what he can." The philosophy is homely and common enough, but the manner in which the reproof was administered shows kindly tact, one of the most difficult of arts. Here is another passage, touching on something outside the range of war and politics. He was writing to Lund Washington in regard to Mrs. Washington's daughter-in-law, Mrs. Custis, who was contemplating a second marriage. "For my own part," he said, "I never did, nor do I believe I ever shall, give advice to a woman who is setting out on a matrimonial voyage: first, because I never could advise one to marry without her own consent; and secondly, because I know it is to no purpose to advise her to refrain when she has obtained it. A woman very rarely asks an opinion or requires advice on such an occasion till her resolution is formed; and then it is with the hope and expectation of obtaining a sanction, not that she means to be governed by your disapprobation, that she applies. In a word, the plain English of the application may be summed up in these words: 'I wish you to think as I do; but if unhappily you differ from me in opinion, my heart, I must confess, is fixed, and I have gone too far now to retract.'"

In the same spirit, but this time with a lurking smile at himself, did he write to the secretary of Congress for his commission: "If my commission is not necessary for the files of Congress, I should be glad to have it deposited among my own papers. It may serve my grandchildren, some fifty or a hundred years hence, for a theme to ruminate upon, if they should be contemplatively disposed."

He knew human nature well, and had a smile for its little weaknesses when they came to his mind. It was this same human sympathy which made him also love amusements of all sorts; but he was as little their slave as their enemy. No man ever carried great burdens with a higher or more serious spirit, but his cares never made him forbidding, nor rendered him impatient of the pleasure of others. He liked to amuse himself, and knew the value of a change of thought and scene, and he was always ready, when duty permitted, for a chat. He liked to take a comfortable seat and have his talk out, and he had the talent so rare in great men of being a good and appreciative listener. We hear of him playing cards at Tappan during the war, and he was always fond of a game in the evening, realizing the force of Talleyrand's remark to the despiser of cards: "Quelle triste vieillesse vous vous préparez." In 1779 it is recorded that at a party he danced for three hours with Mrs. Greene without sitting down or resting, which speaks well for the health and spirits both of the lady and the gentleman. Even after Yorktown, he was ready to walk a minuet at a ball, and to the end he liked to see young people dance, as he had danced himself in his youth. As has been seen from his treatment of Bernard, he liked the theatre and the actors, and when he was in Philadelphia he was a constant attendant at the play, as he had been ever since he went to see "George Barnwell" in the Barbadoes. His love of horses stayed with him to the last. He not only rode and drove and trained horses,[¹] but he enjoyed the sport of the race-course. He was probably aware, like the Shah of Persia who declined to go to the Derby, that one horse could run faster than another, but nevertheless he liked to see them run, and we hear of him, after he had reached the presidency, acting as judge at a race, and seeing his own colt Magnolia beaten, which he no doubt considered the next best thing to winning.

[Footnote 1: [(return)] The Marquis de Chastelleux speaks of the perfect training of Washington's saddle horses, and says the general broke them himself. He adds "He (the general) is an excellent and bold horseman, leaping the highest fences and going extremely quick, without standing upon his stirrups, bearing on the bridle or letting his horse run wild; circumstances which our young men look upon as so essential a part of English horsemanship, that they would rather break a leg or an arm than renounce them.">[

He had, indeed, in all ways a thoroughly well-balanced mind and temper. In great affairs he knew how to spare himself the details to which others could attend as well as he, and yet he was in no wise a despiser of small things. Before the Revolution, there was a warm discussion in the Truro parish as to the proper site for the Pohick Church. Washington and George Mason led respectively the opposing forces, and each confidently asserted that the site he preferred was the most convenient for the largest number of parishioners. Finally, after much debate and no conclusion, Washington appeared at a vestry meeting with a collection of statistics. He had measured the distance from each proposed site to the house of each parishioner, and found, as he declared, that his site was nearer to more people than the other. It is needless to add that he carried his point, and that the spot he desired for the church was the one chosen.

The fact was that, if he confided a task of any sort to another, he let it go on without meddling; but if he undertook anything himself, he did it with the utmost thoroughness, and there is much success in this capacity to take pains even in small things. He managed his plantations entirely himself when he was at home, and did it well. He knew the qualities of each field, and the rotation of its crops. No improvement in agriculture and no ingenious invention escaped his attention, although he was not to be carried away by mere novelty, which had such a fascination for his ex-secretary at Monticello. Every resource of his estate was turned to good use, and his flour and tobacco commanded absolute confidence with his brand upon them. He followed in the same painstaking way all his business affairs, and his accounts, all in his own hand, are wonderfully minute and accurate. He was very exact in all business as well as very shrewd at a bargain, and the tradition is that his neighbors considered the general a formidable man in a horse-trade, that most difficult of transactions. Parkinson mentions that everything purchased or brought to the house was weighed, measured, or counted, generally in the presence of the master himself. Some of his letters to Lear, his private secretary, show that he looked after his china and servants, the packing and removal of his furniture with great minuteness. To some persons this appears evidence of a petty mind in a great man, but to those who reflect a little more deeply it will occur that this accuracy and care in trifles were the same qualities which kept the American army together, and enabled their owner to arrive on time and in full preparation at Yorktown and Trenton. The worst that can be said is that from his love of perfection and completeness he may in this respect have wasted time and strength, but his untiring industry and his capacity for work were so great that he accomplished so far as we can see all this drudgery without ever neglecting in the least more important duties. It was a satisfaction to him to do it; for he was methodical and exact to the last degree, and he was never happy unless he held everything in which he was concerned easily within his grasp.

He had the same attention to details in external things, and he wished everything about him to be of the best, if not "express'd in fancy." He had the handsomest carriages and the finest horses always in his stables. It was necessary that the furniture of his house should be as good as could be procured, and he was most particular in regard to it. When he was preparing as President to move to Philadelphia, he made the most searching inquiries as to horses, stables, servants, schools for young Custis, and everything affecting the household. He sent at the same time most minute directions to his agents as to the furniture of his house, touching upon everything, down to the color of the curtains and the form of his wine-coolers. He had a like feeling in regard to dress. His fancy for handsome and appropriate dress in his youth has already been alluded to, but he never ceased to take an interest in it; and in a letter to McHenry, written in the last year of his life, he discusses with great care the details of the uniform to be prescribed for himself as commander-in-chief of the new army. It would be a mistake, of course, to infer that he was a dandy, or that he gave to dress and furniture the importance set upon them by shallow minds. He simply valued them rightly, and enjoyed the good things of this world. He had the best possible taste and the keenest sense of what was appropriate, and it was this good taste and sense of fitness which saved him from blundering in trifles, as much as his ability and his sense of humor preserved him from error in the conduct of great affairs.

The value of all this to the country he served cannot be too often reiterated, for ridicule was a real danger to the Revolutionary cause when it started. The raw levies, headed by volunteer officers from the shop, the plough, the work-bench, or the trading vessel, despite their patriotism and the nobility of their cause, could easily have been made subjects of derision, a perilous enemy to all new undertakings. Men prefer to be shot at, if they are taken seriously, rather than to be laughed at and made objects of contempt. The same principle holds true of a revolution seeking the sympathy of a hostile world. When Washington drew his sword beneath the Cambridge elm and put himself at the head of the American army, effective ridicule became impossible, for the dignity of the cause was seen in that of its leader. The British generals soon found that they not only had a dangerous enemy to encounter, but that they were dealing with a man whose pride in his country and whose own sense of self-respect reduced any assumption of personal superiority on their part to speedy contempt. In the same way he brought dignity to the new government of the Constitution when he was placed at its head. The confederation had excited the just contempt of the world, and Washington as President, by the force of his own character and reputation, gave the United States at once the respect not only of the American people, but of those of Europe as well. Men felt instinctively that no government over which he presided could ever fall into feebleness or disrepute.

In addition to the effect on the popular mind of his character and services was that of his personal presence. If contemporary testimony can be believed, few men have ever lived who had the power to impress those who looked upon them so profoundly as Washington. He was richly endowed by nature in all physical attributes. Well over six feet high,[¹] large, powerfully built, and of uncommon muscular strength, he had the force that always comes from great physical power. He had a fine head, a strong face, with blue eyes set wide apart in deep orbits, and beneath, a square jaw and firm-set mouth which told of a relentless will. Houdon the sculptor, no bad judge, said he had no conception of the majesty and grandeur of Washington's form and features until he studied him as a subject for a statue. Pages might be filled with extracts from the descriptions of Washington given by French officers, by all sorts of strangers, and by his own countrymen, but they all repeat the same story. Every one who met him told of the commanding presence, and noble person, the ineffable dignity, and the calm, simple, and stately manners. No man ever left Washington's presence without a feeling of reverence and respect amounting almost to awe.

[Footnote 1: [(return)] Lear in his memoranda published recently in full in McClure's Magazine for February, 1898, states that Washington measured after death six feet three and one half inches in height, a foot and nine inches across the shoulders, two feet across the elbows; evidently a spare man with muscular arms, which we know to have been also of unusual length.]

I will quote only a single one of the numerous descriptions of Washington, and I select it because, although it is the least favorable of the many I have seen, and is written in homely phrase, it displays the most evident and entire sincerity. The extract is from a letter written by David Ackerson of Alexandria, Va., in 1811, in answer to an inquiry by his son. Mr. Ackerson commanded a company in the Revolutionary war.

"Washington was not," he wrote, "what ladies would call a pretty man, but in military costume a heroic figure, such as would impress the memory ever afterward."

The writer had a good view of Washington three days before the crossing of the Delaware.

"Washington," he says, "had a large thick nose, and it was very red that day, giving me the impression that he was not so moderate in the use of liquors as he was supposed to be. I found afterward that this was a peculiarity. His nose was apt to turn scarlet in a cold wind. He was standing near a small camp-fire, evidently lost in thought and making no effort to keep warm. He seemed six feet and a half in height, was as erect as an Indian, and did not for a moment relax from a military attitude. Washington's exact height was six feet two inches in his boots. He was then a little lame from striking his knee against a tree. His eye was so gray that it looked almost white, and he had a troubled look on his colorless face. He had a piece of woolen tied around his throat and was quite hoarse. Perhaps the throat trouble from which he finally died had its origin about then. Washington's boots were enormous. They were number 13. His ordinary walking-shoes were number 11. His hands were large in proportion, and he could not buy a glove to fit him and had to have his gloves made to order. His mouth was his strong feature, the lips being always tightly compressed. That day they were compressed so tightly as to be painful to look at. At that time he weighed two hundred pounds, and there was no surplus flesh about him. He was tremendously muscled, and the fame of his great strength was everywhere. His large tent when wrapped up with the poles was so heavy that it required two men to place it in the camp-wagon. Washington would lift it with one hand and throw it in the wagon as easily as if it were a pair of saddle-bags. He could hold a musket with one hand and shoot with precision as easily as other men did with a horse-pistol. His lungs were his weak point, and his voice was never strong. He was at that time in the prime of life. His hair was a chestnut brown, his cheeks were prominent, and his head was not large in contrast to every other part of his body, which seemed large and bony at all points. His finger-joints and wrists were so large as to be genuine curiosities. As to his habits at that period I found out much that might be interesting. He was an enormous eater, but was content with bread and meat, if he had plenty of it. But hunger seemed to put him in a rage. It was his custom to take a drink of rum or whiskey on awakening in the morning. Of course all this was changed when he grew old. I saw him at Alexandria a year before he died. His hair was very gray, and his form was slightly bent. His chest was very thin. He had false teeth, which did not fit and pushed his under lip outward."[¹]

[Footnote 1: [(return)] This letter, recently printed, is in the collection of Dr. Toner, at Washington. It contains some obvious errors, as in regard to the color of the eyes, but it is nevertheless very interesting and valuable.]

This description is certainly not a flattering one, and all other accounts as well as the best portraits prove that Washington was a much handsomer man than this letter would indicate. Yet the writer, despite his freedom from all illusions and his readiness to state frankly all defects, was profoundly impressed by Washington's appearance as he watched him meditating by the camp-fire at the crisis of the country's fate, and herein lies the principal interest of his description.

This personal impressiveness, however, affected every one upon all occasions.

Mr. Rush, for instance, saw Washington go on one occasion to open Congress. He drove to the hall in a handsome carriage of his own, with his servants dressed in white liveries. When he had alighted he stopped on the step, and pausing faced round to wait for his secretary. The vast crowd looked at him in dead silence, and then, when he turned away, broke into wild cheering. At his second inauguration he was dressed in deep mourning for the death of his nephew. He took the oath of office in the Senate Chamber, and Major Forman, who was present, wrote in his diary: "Every eye was on him. When he said, 'I, George Washington,' my blood seemed to run cold and every one seemed to start." At the inauguration of Adams, another eye-witness wrote that Washington, dressed in black velvet, with a military hat and black cockade, was the central figure in the scene, and when he left the chamber the crowds followed him, cheering and shouting to the door of his own house.

There must have been something very impressive about a man who, with no pretensions to the art of the orator and with no touch of the charlatan, could so move and affect vast bodies of men by his presence alone. But the people, with the keen eye of affection, looked beyond the mere outward nobility of form. They saw the soldier who had given them victory, the great statesman who had led them out of confusion and faction to order and good government. Party newspapers might rave, but the instinct of the people was never at fault. They loved, trusted and well-nigh worshiped Washington living, and they have honored and reverenced him with an unchanging fidelity since his death, nearly a century ago.

But little more remains to be said. Washington had his faults, for he was human; but they are not easy to point out, so perfect was his mastery of himself. He was intensely reserved and very silent, and these are the qualities which gave him the reputation in history of being distant and unsympathetic. In truth, he had not only warm affections and a generous heart, but there was a strong vein of sentiment in his composition. At the same time he was in no wise romantic, and the ruling element in his make-up was prose, good solid prose, and not poetry. He did not have the poetical and imaginative quality so strongly developed in Lincoln. Yet he was not devoid of imagination, although it was here that he was lacking, if anywhere. He saw facts, knew them, mastered and used them, and never gave much play to fancy; but as his business in life was with men and facts, this deficiency, if it was one, was of little moment. He was also a man of the strongest passions in every way, but he dominated them; they never ruled him. Vigorous animal passions were inevitable, of course, in a man of such a physical make-up as his. How far he gave way to them in his youth no one knows, but the scandals which many persons now desire to have printed, ostensibly for the sake of truth, are, so far as I have been able to learn, with one or two dubious exceptions, of entirely modern parentage. I have run many of them to earth; nearly all are destitute of contemporary authority, and they may be relegated to the dust-heaps.[¹] If he gave way to these propensities in his youth, the only conclusion that I have been able to come to is that he mastered them when he reached man's estate.

[Footnote 1: [(return)] The charge in the pamphlet purporting to give an account of the trial of the New York conspirators in 1776 is of such doubtful origin and character that it hardly merits consideration, and the only other allusion is in the well-known intercepted letter of Harrison, which is of doubtful authenticity in certain passages, open to suspicion from having been intercepted and published by the enemy and quite likely to have been at best merely a coarse jest of a character very common at that period and entirely in keeping with the notorious habits of life and speech peculiar to the writer. (See Life of John Adams, iii. 35.)]

He had, too, a fierce temper, and although he gradually subdued it, he would sometimes lose control of himself and burst out into a tempest of rage. When he did so he would use strong and even violent language, as he did at Kip's Landing and at Monmouth. Well-intentioned persons in their desire to make him a faultless being have argued at great length that Washington never swore, and but for their argument the matter would never have attracted much attention. He was anything but a profane man, but the evidence is beyond question that if deeply angered he would use a hearty English oath; and not seldom the action accompanied the word, as when he rode among the fleeing soldiers at Kip's Landing, striking them with his sword, and almost beside himself at their cowardice. Judge Marshall used to tell also of an occasion when Washington sent out an officer to cross a river and bring back some information about the enemy, on which the action of the morrow would depend. The officer was gone some time, came back, and found the general impatiently pacing his tent. On being asked what he had learned, he replied that the night was dark and stormy, the river full of ice, and that he had not been able to cross. Washington glared at him a moment, seized a large leaden inkstand from the table, hurled it at the offender's head, and said with a fierce oath, "Be off, and send me a man!" The officer went, crossed the river, and brought back the information.

But although he would now and then give way to these tremendous bursts of anger, Washington was never unjust. As he said to one officer, "I never judge the propriety of actions by after events;" and in that sound philosophy is found the secret not only of much of his own success, but of the devotion of his officers and men. He might be angry with them, but he was never unfair. In truth, he was too generous to be unjust or even over-severe to any one, and there is not a line in all his writings which even suggests that he ever envied any man. So long as the work in hand was done, he cared not who had the glory, and he was perfectly magnanimous and perfectly at ease about his own reputation. He never showed the slightest anxiety to write his own memoirs, and he was not in the least alarmed when it was proposed to publish the memoirs of other people, like General Charles Lee, which would probably reflect upon him.

He had the same confidence in the judgment of posterity that he had in the future beyond the grave. He regarded death with entire calmness and even indifference not only when it came to him, but when in previous years it had threatened him. He loved life and tasted of it deeply, but the courage which never forsook him made him ready to face the inevitable at any moment with an unruffled spirit. In this he was helped by his religious faith, which was as simple as it was profound. He had been brought up in the Protestant Episcopal Church, and to that church he always adhered; for its splendid liturgy and stately forms appealed to him and satisfied him. He loved it too as the church of his home and his childhood. Yet he was as far as possible from being sectarian, and there is not a word of his which shows anything but the most entire liberality and toleration. He made no parade of his religion, for in this as in other things he was perfectly simple and sincere. He was tortured by no doubts or questionings, but believed always in an overruling Providence and in a merciful God, to whom he knelt and prayed in the day of darkness or in the hour of triumph with a supreme and childlike confidence.

---

As I bring these volumes to a close I am conscious that they speak, so far as they speak at all, in a tone of almost unbroken praise of the great man they attempt to portray. If this be so, it is because I could come to no other conclusions. For many years I have studied minutely the career of Washington, and with every step the greatness of the man has grown upon me, for analysis has failed to discover the act of his life which, under the conditions of the time, I could unhesitatingly pronounce to have been an error. Such has been my experience, and although my deductions may be wrong, they at least have been carefully and slowly made. I see in Washington a great soldier who fought a trying war to a successful end impossible without him; a great statesman who did more than all other men to lay the foundations of a republic which has endured in prosperity for more than a century. I find in him a marvelous judgment which was never at fault, a penetrating vision which beheld the future of America when it was dim to other eyes, a great intellectual force, a will of iron, an unyielding grasp of facts, and an unequaled strength of patriotic purpose. I see in him too a pure and high-minded gentleman of dauntless courage and stainless honor, simple and stately of manner, kind and generous of heart. Such he was in truth. The historian and the biographer may fail to do him justice, but the instinct of mankind will not fail. The real hero needs not books to give him worshipers. George Washington will always hold the love and reverence of men because they see embodied in him the noblest possibilities of humanity.

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INDEX for Volumes I & II

ACKERSON, DAVID,

describes Washington's personal appearance, ii. 386-388.

Adams, Abigail,

on Washington's appearance in 1775, i. 137.

Adams, John,

moves appointment of Washington as commander-in-chief, i. 134;

on political necessity for his appointment, 135;

and objections to it, 135;

statement as to Washington's difficulties, 163;

over-sanguine as to American prospects, 171;

finds fault with Washington, 214, 215;

one of few national statesmen, 252;

on Washington's opinion of titles, ii. 52;

advocates ceremony, 54;

returns to United States, 137;

attacked by Jefferson as a monarchist, 226;

praised by Democrats as superior to Washington, 251;

his administration upheld by Washington, 259;

advised by Washington, 260;

his inauguration, 276;

sends special mission to France, 284;

urges Washington to take command of provisional army, 285;

wishes to make Knox senior to Hamilton, 286;

censured by Washington, gives way, 287;

lack of sympathy with Washington, 287;

his nomination of Murray disapproved by Washington, 292, 293;

letter of Washington to, on immigration, 326.

Adams, J.Q.,

on weights and measures, ii. 81.

Adams, Samuel,

not sympathized with by Washington in working for independence, i. 131;

his inability to sympathize with Washington, 204;

an enemy of Constitution, ii. 71;

a genuine American, 309.

Alcudia, Duke de,

interviews with Pinckney, ii. 166.

Alexander, Philip,

hunts with Washington, i. 115.

Alien and Sedition Laws,

approved by Washington and Federalists, ii. 290, 297.

Ames, Fisher,

speech on behalf of administration in Jay treaty affair, ii. 210.

André, Major,

meets Arnold, i. 282;

announces capture to Arnold, 284;

confesses, 284;

condemned and executed, 287;

justice of the sentence, 287, 288;

Washington's opinion of, 288, ii. 357.

Armstrong, John, Major,

writes Newburg address, i. 335.

Army of the Revolution,

at Boston, adopted by Congress, i. 134;

its organization and character, 136-143;

sectional jealousies in, at New York, 162;

goes to pieces after defeat, 167, 175, 176;

condition in winter of 1777, 186;

difficulties between officers, 189;

with foreign officers, 190-192;

improvement as shown by condition after Brandywine and Germantown, 200, 201;

hard winter at Valley Forge, 228;

maintained alive only by Washington, 227, 228, 232;

improved morale at Monmouth, 239;

mutinies for lack of pay, 258;

suffers during 1779, 270;

bad condition in 1780, 279;

again mutinies for pay, 291, 292, 295;

conduct of troops, 292, 293;

jealousy of people towards, 332;

badly treated by States and by Congress, 333;

grows mutinous, 334;

adopts Newburg addresses, 335, 336;

ready for a military dictatorship, 338, 340;

farewell of Washington to, 345.

Arnold, Benedict,

sent by Washington to attack Quebec, i. 144;

sent against Burgoyne, 210;

plans treason, 281;

shows loyalist letter to Washington, 282;

meets André, 282;

receives news of André's capture, 284;

escapes, 284, 285;

previous benefits from Washington, 286;

Washington's opinion of, 288;

ravages Virginia, 303;

sent back to New York, 303;

one of the few men who deceived Washington, ii. 336.

Arnold, Mrs.,

entertains Washington at time of her husband's treachery, i. 284, 285.

Articles of Confederation,

their inadequacy early seen by Washington, i. 297, 298; ii. 17.

Asgill, Capt.,

selected for retaliation for murder of Huddy, i. 328;

efforts for his release, 329;

release ordered by Congress, 330.

BACHE, B.F.,

publishes Jay treaty in "Aurora," ii. 185;

joins in attack on Washington, 238, 244;

rejoices over his retirement, 256.

Baker,——,

works out a pedigree for Washington, i. 31.

Ball, Joseph,

advises against sending Washington to sea, i. 49, 50.

Barbadoes,

Washington's description of, i. 64.

Beckley, John,

accuses Washington of embezzling, ii. 245.

Bernard, John,

his conversation with Washington referred to, i. 58, 107;

describes encounter with Washington, ii. 281-283;

his description of Washington's conversation, 343-348.

Blackwell, Rev. Dr.,

calls on Washington with Dr. Logan, ii. 264.

Blair, John,

appointed to Supreme Court, ii. 73.

Bland, Mary,

"Lowland Beauty," admired by Washington, i. 95, 96.

Blount, Governor,

pacifies Cherokees, ii. 94.

Boston,

visit of Washington to, i. 97, 99;

political troubles in, 120;

British measures against condemned by Virginia, 122, 123;

appeals to colonies, 124;

protests against Jay treaty, ii. 186;

answered by Washington, 190.

Botetourt, Lord, Governor of Virginia,

quarrels with Assembly, i. 121;

manages to calm dissension, 122;

on friendly terms with Washington, 122.

Braddock, General Edward,

arrives in Virginia, i. 82;

invites Washington to serve on his staff, 82;

respects him, 83;

his character and unfitness for his position, 83;

despises provincials, 83;

accepts Washington's advice as to dividing force, 84;

rebukes Washington for warning against ambush, 85;

insists on fighting by rule, 85;

defeated and mortally wounded, 85;

death and burial, 87.

Bradford, William,

succeeds Randolph, ii. 246.

Brandywine,

battle of, i. 196-198.

Bunker Hill,

question of Washington regarding battle of, i. 136.

Burgoyne, General John,

junction of Howe with, feared by Washington, i. 194, 195, 205, 206;

significance of his defeat, 202;

danger of his invasion foreseen by Washington, 203-206;

captures Ticonderoga, 207;

outnumbered and defeated, 210;

surrenders, 211.

Burke, Edmund,

understands significance of Washington's leadership, i. 202;

unsettled by French Revolution, ii. 294.

CABOT, GEORGE,

entertains Lafayette's son, ii. 366.

Cadwalader, General,

fails to cross Delaware to help Washington, i. 180;

duel with Conway, 226.

Calvert, Eleanor,

misgivings of Washington over her marriage to John Custis, i. 111.

Camden, battle of, i. 281.

Canada,

captured by Wolfe, i. 94;

expedition of Montgomery against, 143, 144;

project of Conway cabal against, 222; 253;

project of Lafayette to attack, 254;

plan considered dangerous by Washington, 254, 255;

not undertaken by France, 256.

Carleton, Sir Guy,

informs Washington of address of Commons for peace, i. 324;

suspected by Washington, 325;

remonstrates against retaliation by Washington for murder of

Huddy, 328;

disavows Lippencott, 328;

fears plunder of New York city, 345;

urges Indians to attack the United States, ii. 102, 175.

Carlisle, Earl of,

peace commissioner, i. 233.

Carlyle, Thomas,

sneers at Washington, i. 4, 14;

calls him "a bloodless Cromwell," i. 69, ii. 332;

fails to understand his reticence, i. 70;

despises him for not seizing power, 341.

Carmichael, William,

minister at Madrid, ii. 165;

on commission regarding the Mississippi, 166.

Carrington, Paul,

letter of Washington to, ii. 208;

Washington's friendship for, 363.

Cary, Mary,

early love affair of Washington with, i. 96.

Chamberlayne, Major,

entertains Washington at Williams' Ferry, i. 101.

Charleston,

siege and capture of, i. 273, 274, 276.

Chastellux, Marquis de,

Washington's friendship for and letter to, ii. 351;

on Washington's training of horses, 380.

Cherokees,

beaten by Sevier, ii. 89;

pacified by Blount, 94,101.

Chester, Colonel,

researches on Washington pedigree, i. 31.

Chickasaws,

desert from St. Clair, ii. 96.

China,

honors Washington, i. 6.

Choctaws,

peaceable in 1788, ii. 89.

Cincinnati, Society of the,

Washington's connection with, ii. 4.

Clarke, Governor,

thinks Washington is invading popular rights, i. 215.

Cleaveland, Rev.——,

complimented by Washington, ii. 359.

Clinton, George,

appealed to by Washington to attack Burgoyne, i. 210;

journey with Washington to Ticonderoga, 343;

enters New York city, 345;

letter of Washington to, ii. 1;

meets Washington on journey to inauguration, 45;

opponent of the Constitution, 71;

orders seizure of French privateers, 153.

Clinton, Sir Henry,

fails to help Burgoyne, i. 210;

replaces Howe at Philadelphia, his character, 232;

tries to cut off Lafayette, 233;

leaves Philadelphia, 234;

defeats Lee at Monmouth, 236;

retreats to New York, 238;

withdraws from Newport, 248;

makes a raid, 265;

fortifies Stony Point, 268;

his aimless warfare, 269, 270;

after capturing Charleston returns to New York, 276;

tries to save André, 287;

alarmed at attacks on New York, 306;

jealous of Cornwallis, refuses to send reinforcements, 308;

deceived by Washington, 311;

sends Graves to relieve Cornwallis, 312.

Congress, Continental,

Washington's journey to, i. 128;

its character and ability, 129;

its state papers, 129;

adjourns, 132;

in second session, resolves to petition the king, 133;

adopts Massachusetts army and makes Washington commander, 134;

reasons for his choice, 135;

adheres to short-term enlistments, 149;

influenced to declare independence by Washington, 160;

hampers Washington in campaign of New York, 167;

letters of Washington to, 170, 179, 212, 225, 229, 266, 278, 295, 321, 323, 333;

takes steps to make army permanent, 171;

its over-confidence, 171;

insists on holding Forts Washington and Lee, 174;

dissatisfied with Washington's inactivity, 187;

criticises his proclamation requiring oath of allegiance, 189;

makes unwise appointments of officers, 189;

especially of foreigners, 190-192; 248, 249;

applauds Washington's efforts at Germantown, 200;

deposes Schuyler and St. Clair, 208;

appoints Gates, 210;

irritation against Washington, 212-215;

falls under guidance of Conway cabal, 221, 222;

discovers incompetence of cabal, 223;

meddles with prisoners and officers, 231;

rejects English peace offers, 233;

makes alliance with France, 241;

suppresses protests of officers against D'Estaing, 244;

decline in its character, 257;

becomes feeble, 258;

improvement urged by Washington, 259, 266;

appoints Gates to command in South, 268;

loses interest in war, 278;

asks Washington to name general for the South, 295;

considers reduction of army, 313;

elated by Yorktown, 323;

its unfair treatment of army, 333, 335;

driven from Philadelphia by Pennsylvania troops, 340;

passes half-pay act, 342;

receives commission of Washington, 347-349;

disbands army, ii. 6;

indifferent to Western expansion, 15;

continues to decline, 22;

merit of its Indian policy, 88.

Congress, Federal,

establishes departments, ii. 64;

opened by Washington, 78, 79;

ceremonial abolished by Jefferson, 79;

recommendations made to by Washington, 81-83;

acts upon them, 81-83;

creates commission to treat with Creeks, 90;

increases army, 94, 99;

fails to solve financial problems, 106;

debates Hamilton's report on credit, 107, 108;

establishes national bank, 109;

establishes protective revenue duties, 113;

imposes an excise tax, 123;

prepares for retaliation on Great Britain, 176;

Senate ratifies Jay treaty conditionally, 184;

House demands papers, 207;

debates over its right to concur in treaty, 208-210;

refuses to adjourn on Washington's birthday, 247;

prepares for war with France, 285;

passes Alien and Sedition Laws, 296.

Constitution, Federal,

necessity of, foreseen by Washington, ii. 17-18, 23, 24;

the Annapolis Convention, 23-29;

the Federal Convention, 30-36;

Washington's attitude in, 31,34;

his influence, 36;

campaign for ratification, 38-41.

Contrecoeur, Captain,

leader of French and Indians in Virginia, i. 75.

"Conway cabal,"

elements of in Congress, i. 214, 215;

in the army, 215;

organized by Conway, 217;

discovered by Washington, 220;

gets control of Board of War, 221;

tries to make Washington resign, 222, 224;

fails to invade Canada or provide supplies, 222, 223;

harassed by Washington's letters, 223,226;

breaks down, 226.

Conway, Moncure D.,

his life of Randolph, ii. 65, note, 196;

his defense of Randolph in Fauchet letter affair, 196;

on Washington's motives, 200;

on his unfair treatment of Randolph, 201, 202.

Conway, Thomas,

demand for higher rank refused by Washington, i. 216;

plots against him, 217;

his letter discovered by Washington, 221;

made inspector-general, 221, 222;

complains to Congress of his reception at camp, 225;

resigns, has duel with Cadwalader, 226;

apologizes to Washington and leaves country, 226.

Cooke, Governor,

remonstrated with by Washington for raising state troops, i. 186.

Cornwallis, Lord,

pursues Washington in New Jersey, i. 175;

repulsed at Assunpink, 181;

outgeneraled by Washington, 182;

surprises Sullivan at Brandywine, 197;

defeats Lee at Monmouth, 236;

pursues Greene in vain, 302;

wins battle of Guilford Court House, 302;

retreats into Virginia, 302;

joins British troops in Virginia, 303;

his dangerous position, 304;

urged by Clinton to return troops to New York, 306;

plunders Virginia, 307;

defeats Lafayette and Wayne, 307;

wishes to retreat South, 307;

ordered by ministry to stay on the Chesapeake, 307;

abandoned by Clinton, 308;

establishes himself at Yorktown, 308;

withdraws into town, 315;

besieged, 316, 317;

surrenders, 317;

outgeneraled by Washington, 319, 320.

Cowpens,

battle of, i. 301.

Craik, Dr.,

attends Washington in last illness, ii. 300-302;

Washington's friendship with, 363.

Creeks,

their relations with Spaniards, ii. 89, 90;

quarrel with Georgia, 90;

agree to treaty with United States, 91;

stirred up by Spain, 101.

Curwen, Samuel,

on Washington's appearance, i. 137.

Cushing, Caleb,

appointed to Supreme Court, ii. 72.

Custis, Daniel Parke,

first husband of Martha Washington, i. 101.

Custis, G.W.P.,

tells mythical story of Washington and the colt, i. 45;

Washington's care for, ii. 369.

Custis, John,

Washington's tenderness toward, i. 111;

care for his education and marriage, 111;

hunts with Washington, 141;

death of, 322.

Custis, Nellie,

marriage with Washington's nephew, ii. 281, 369;

letter of Washington to, 377.

DAGWORTHY, CAPTAIN,

claims to outrank Washington in Virginia army, i. 91, 97.

Dallas, Alexander,

protests to Genet against sailing of Little Sarah, ii. 155.

Dalton, Senator,

entertains Washington at Newburyport, ii. 359.

Deane, Silas,

promises commissions to foreign military adventurers, i. 190.

De Barras,

jealous of De Grasse, decides not to aid him, i. 310;

persuaded to do so by Washington and Rochambeau, 311;

reaches Chesapeake, 312.

De Grasse, Comte,

announces intention of coming to Washington, i. 305;

warned by Washington not to come to New York, 305;

sails to Chesapeake, 306;

asked to meet Washington there, 308;

reaches Chesapeake, 312;

repulses British fleet, 312;

wishes to return to West Indies, 315;

persuaded to remain by Washington, 315;

refuses to join Washington in attack on Charleston, 322;

returns to West Indies, 322.

De Guichen,——,

commander of French fleet in West Indies, i. 280;

appealed to for aid by Washington, 281;

returns home, 282.

Delancey, Oliver,

escapes American attack, i. 306.

Democratic party,

its formation as a French party, ii. 225;

furnished with catch-words by Jefferson, 226;

with a newspaper organ, 227;

not ready to oppose Washington for president in 1792, 235;

organized against treasury measure, 236;

stimulated by French Revolution, 238;

supports Genet, 237;

begins to attack Washington, 238;

his opinion of it, 239, 240, 258, 261, 267, 268;

forms clubs on French model, 241;

Washington's opinion of, 242, 243;

continues to abuse him, 244, 245, 250, 252;

exults at his retirement, 256;

prints slanders, 257.

Demont, William,

betrays plans of Fort Washington to Howe, i. 175.

D'Estaing, Admiral,

reaches America, i. 242;

welcomed by Washington, 243;

fails to cut off Howe and goes to Newport, 243;

after battle with Howe goes to Boston, 244;

letter of Washington to, 246;

sails to West Indies, 246;

second letter of Washington to, 247;

attacks Savannah, 248;

withdraws, 248.

De Rochambeau, Comte,

arrives at Newport, i. 277;

ordered to await second division of army, 278;

refuses to attack New York, 280;

wishes a conference with Washington, 282;

meets him at Hartford, 282;

disapproves attacking Florida, 301;

joins Washington before New York, 306;

persuades De Barras to join De Grasse, 311;

accompanies Washington to Yorktown, 314.

Dickinson, John,

commands scouts at Monmouth, i. 326.

Digby, Admiral,

bitter comments of Washington on, i. 325.

Dinwiddie, Governor,

remonstrates against French encroachments, i. 66;

sends Washington on mission to French, 66;

quarrels with the Virginia Assembly, 71;

letter of Washington to, 73;

wishes Washington to attack French, 79;

tries to quiet discussions between regular and provincial troops, 80;

military schemes condemned by Washington, 91;

prevents his getting a royal commission, 93.

Diplomatic History:

refusal by Washington of special privileges to French minister, ii. 59-61;

slow growth of idea of non-intervention, 132, 133;

difficulties owing to French Revolution, 134;

to English retention of frontier posts, 135;

attitude of Spain, 135;

relations with Barbary States, 136;

mission of Gouverneur Morris to sound English feeling, 137;

assertion by Washington of non-intervention policy toward Europe, 145, 146;

issue of neutrality proclamation, 147, 148;

its importance, 148;

mission of Genet, 148-162;

guarded attitude of Washington toward émigrés, 151;

excesses of Genet, 151;

neutrality enforced, 153, 154;

the Little Sarah episode, 154-157;

recall of Genet demanded, 158;

futile missions of Carmichael and Short to Spain, 165, 166;

successful treaty of Thomas Pinckney, 166-168;

question as to binding nature of French treaty of commerce, 169-171;

irritating relations with England, 173-176;

Jay's mission, 177-184;

the questions at issue, 180, 181;

terms of the treaty agreed upon, 182;

good and bad points, 183;

ratified by Senate, 184;

signing delayed by renewal of provision order, 185;

war with England prevented by signing, 205;

difficulties with France over Morris and Monroe, 211-214;

doings of Monroe, 212, 213;

United States compromised by him, 213, 214;

Monroe replaced by Pinckney, 214;

review of Washington's foreign policy, 216-219;

mission of Pinckney, Marshall, and Gerry to France, 284;

the X.Y.Z. affair, 285.

Donop, Count,

drives Griffin out of New Jersey, i. 180;

killed at Fort Mercer, 217.

Dorchester, Lord.

See Carleton.

Duane, James,

letters of Washington to, i. 294, 329.

Dumas, Comte,

describes enthusiasm of people for Washington, i. 288.

Dunbar, Colonel,

connection with Braddock's expedition, i. 84, 87.

Dunmore, Lord,

arrives in Virginia as governor, i. 122;

on friendly terms with Washington, 122, 123;

dissolves assembly, 123.

Duplaine, French consul,

exequatur of revoked, ii. 159.

EDEN, WILLIAM,

peace commissioner, i. 233.

Edwards, Jonathan,

a typical New England American, ii. 309.

Emerson, Rev. Dr.,

describes Washington's reforms in army before Boston, i. 140.

Emigrés,

Washington's treatment of, ii. 151, 253.

England,

honors Washington, i. 20;

arrogant behavior toward colonists, 80, 81, 82, 148;

its policy towards Boston condemned by Virginia, 119, 121, 123, 126;

by Washington, 124, 125,126;

sends incompetent officers to America, 155, 201, 202, 233;

stupidity of its operations, 203, 205, 206, 265;

sincerity of its desire for peace doubted by Washington, 324, 325;

arrogant conduct of toward the United States after peace, ii. 24, 25;

stirs up the Six Nations and Northwestern Indians, 92, 94, 101;

folly of her policy, 102;

sends Hammond as minister, 169;

its opportunity to win United States as ally against France, 171, 172;

adopts contrary policy of opposition, 172, 173;

adopts "provision order," 174;

incites Indians against United States, 175;

indignation of America against, 176;

receives Jay well, but refuses to yield points at issue, 180;

insists on monopoly of West India trade, 180;

and on impressment, 181;

later history of, 181;

renews provision order, 185;

danger of war with, 193;

avoided by Jay treaty, 205;

Washington said to sympathize with England, 252;

his real hostility toward, 254;

Washington's opinion of liberty in, 344.

Ewing, General James,

fails to help Washington at Trenton, i. 180.

FAIRFAX, BRYAN,

hunts with Washington, i. 115;

remonstrates with Washington against violence of patriots, 124;

Washington's replies to, 124, 126, 127;

letter of Washington to in Revolution, ii. 366.

Fairfax, George,

married to Miss Cary, i. 55;

accompanies Washington on surveying expedition, 58;

letter of Washington to, 133.

Fairfax, Mrs.——,

letter of Washington to, ii. 367.

Fairfax, Thomas, Lord,

his career in England, i. 55;

comes to his Virginia estates, 55;

his character, 55;

his friendship for Washington, 56;

sends him to survey estates, 56;

plans a manor across the Blue Ridge, 59;

secures for Washington position as public surveyor, 60;

probably influential in securing his appointment as envoy to

French, 66;

hunts with Washington, 115;

his death remembered by Washington, ii. 366.

Fairlie, Major,

amuses Washington, ii. 374.

Farewell Address, ii. 248, 249.

Fauchet, M.,——,

letter of, incriminating Randolph, ii. 195,196, 202.

Fauntleroy, Betsy,

love affair of Washington with, i. 97.

Fauquier, Francis, Governor,

at Washington's wedding, i. 101.

Federal courts,

suggested by Washington, i. 150.

"Federalist,"

circulated by Washington, ii. 40.

Federalist party,

begun by Hamilton's controversy with Jefferson, ii. 230;

supports Washington for reëlection, 235;

organized in support of financial measures, 236;

Washington looked upon by Democrats as its head, 244, 247;

only its members trusted by Washington, 246, 247, 259, 260, 261;

becomes a British party, 255;

Washington considers himself a member of, 269-274;

the only American party until 1800, 273;

strengthened by X, Y, Z affair, 285;

dissensions in, over army appointments, 286-290;

its horror at French Revolution, 294, 295;

attempts of Washington to heal divisions in, 298.

Fenno's newspaper,

used by Hamilton against the "National Gazette," ii. 230.

Finances of the Revolution,

effect of paper money on war, i. 258, 262;

difficulties in paying troops, 258;

labors of Robert Morris, 259, 264, 312;

connection of Washington with, 263;

continued collapse, 280, 290, 312.

Financial History,

bad condition in 1789, ii. 105;

decay of credit, paper, and revenue, 106;

futile propositions, 106;

Hamilton's report on credit, 107;

debate over assumption of state debt, 107;

bargain between Hamilton and Jefferson, 108;

establishment of bank, 109;

other measures adopted, 112;

protection in the first Congress, 112-115;

the excise tax imposed, 123;

opposition to, 123-127;

"Whiskey Rebellion," 127-128.

Fishbourn, Benjamin,

nomination rejected by Senate, ii. 63.

Fontanes, M. de,

delivers funeral oration on Washington, i. 1.

Forbes, General,

renews attack on French in Ohio, i. 93.

Forman, Major,

describes impressiveness of Washington, ii. 389.

Fox, Charles James,

understands significance of Washington's leadership, i. 202.

France,

pays honors to Washington, i. I, 6;

war with England, see French and Indian war;

takes possession of Ohio, 65;

considers Jumonville assassinated by Washington, 74;

importance of alliance with foreseen by Washington, 191;

impressed by battle of Germantown, 200;

makes treaty of alliance with United States, 241;

sends D'Estaing, 243;

declines to attack Canada, 256;

sends army and fleet, 274, 277;

relations of French to Washington, 318, 319;

absolute necessity of their naval aid, 318, 319;

Revolution in, applauded by America, ii. 138, 139, 142;

real character understood by Washington and others, 139-142, 295;

debate over in America, 142;

question of relations with United States, 143, 144;

warned by Washington, 144, 145;

neutrality toward declared, 147;

tries to drive United States into alliance, 149;

terms of the treaty with, 169;

latter held to be no longer binding, 169-171;

abrogates it, 171;

demands recall of Morris, 211;

mission of Monroe to, 211-214;

makes vague promises, 212, 213;

Washington's fairness toward, 253;

tries to bully or corrupt American ministers, 284;

the X, Y, Z affair, 285;

war with not expected by Washington, 291;

danger of concession to, 292, 293;

progress of Revolution in, 294.

Franklin, Benjamin,

gets wagons for Braddock's expedition, i. 84;

remark on Howe in Philadelphia, 219;

national, like Washington, 252, ii. 8;

despairs of success of Constitutional Convention, 35;

his unquestioned Americanism, 309;

respect of Washington for, 344, 346, 364.

Frederick II., the Great,

his opinion of Trenton campaign, i. 183;

of Monmouth campaign, 239.

French and Indian war, i. 64-94;

inevitable conflict, 65;

efforts to negotiate, 66, 67;

hostilities begun, 72;

the Jumonville affair, 74;

defeat of Washington, 76;

Braddock's campaign, 82-88;

ravages in Virginia, 90;

carried to a favorable conclusion by Pitt, 93, 94.

Freneau, Philip,

brought to Philadelphia and given clerkship by Jefferson, ii. 227;

attacks Adams, Hamilton, and Washington in "National Gazette," 227;

makes conflicting statements as to Jefferson's share in the paper, 227, 228;

the first to attack Washington, 238.

Fry, Colonel,

commands a Virginia regiment against French and Indians, i. 71;

dies, leaving Washington in command, 75.

GAGE, GENERAL THOMAS,

conduct at Boston condemned by Washington, i. 126;

his treatment of prisoners protested against by Washington, 145;

sends an arrogant reply, 147;

second letter of Washington to, 147, 156.

Gallatin, Albert,

connection with Whiskey Rebellion, ii. 129.

Gates, Horatio,

visits Mt. Vernon, his character, i. 132;

refuses to cooperate with Washington at Trenton, 180;

his appointment as commander against Burgoyne urged, 208;

chosen by Congress, 209;

his part in defeating Burgoyne, 210;

neglects to inform Washington, 211;

loses his head and wishes to supplant Washington, 215;

forced to send troops South, 216, 217;

his attitude discovered by Washington, 221;

makes feeble efforts at opposition, 221, 223;

correspondence with Washington, 221, 223, 226;

becomes head of board of war, 221;

quarrels with Wilkinson, 223;

sent to his command, 226;

fears attack of British on Boston, 265;

sent by Congress to command in South, 268;

defeated at Camden, 281, 294;

loses support of Congress, 294.

Genet, Edmond Charles,

arrives as French minister, ii. 148;

his character, 149;

violates neutrality, 151;

his journey to Philadelphia, 151;

reception by Washington, 152;

complains of it, 153;

makes demands upon State Department, 153;

protests at seizure of privateers, 153;

insists on sailing of Little Sarah, 155;

succeeds in getting vessel away, 157;

his recall demanded, 158;

reproaches Jefferson, 158;

remains in America, 158;

threatens to appeal from Washington to Massachusetts, 159;

demands denial from Washington of Jay's statements, 159;

loses popular support, 160;

tries to raise a force to invade Southwest, 161;

prevented by state and federal authorities, 162;

his arrival the signal for divisions of parties, 237;

hurts Democratic party by his excesses, 241;

suggests clubs, 241.

George IV.,

Washington's opinion of, ii. 346.

Georgia,

quarrels with Creeks, asks aid of United States, ii. 90;

becomes dissatisfied with treaty, 91;

disregards treaties of the United States, 103.

Gerard, M.,

notifies Washington of return of D'Estaing, i. 246.

Germantown,

battle of, i. 199.

Gerry, Elbridge,

on special mission to France, ii. 284;

disliked by Washington, 292.

Giles, W.B.,

attacks Washington in Congress, ii. 251, 252.

Gist, Christopher,

accompanies Washington on his mission to French, i. 66;

wishes to shoot French Indians, 68.

Gordon,——,

letter of Washington to, i. 227.

Graves, Admiral,

sent to relieve Cornwallis, i. 312; defeated by De Grasse, 312.

Grayson, William,

hunts with Washington, i. 115; letter to, ii. 22.

Green Springs,

battle of, i. 307.

Greene, General Nathanael,

commands at Long Island, ill with fever, i. 164;

wishes forts on Hudson held, 174;

late in attacking at Germantown, 199;

conducts retreat, 200;

succeeds Mifflin as quartermaster-general, 232;

selected by Washington to command in South, 268;

commands army at New York in absence of Washington, 282;

appointed to command Southern army, 295;

retreats from Cornwallis, 302;

fights battle of Guilford Court House, 302;

clears Southern States of enemy, 302;

strong position, 304;

reinforced by Washington, 322;

letter to, 325;

his military capacity early recognized by Washington, ii. 334;

amuses Washington, 374.

Greene, Mrs.——,

dances three hours with Washington, ii. 380.

Grenville, Lord,

denies that ministry has incited Indians against United States, ii. 175;

receives Jay, 180;

declines to grant United States trade with West Indies, 181.

Griffin, David,

commissioner to treat with Creeks, ii. 90.

Griffin,——,

fails to help Washington at Trenton, i. 180.

Grymes, Lucy,

the "Lowland Beauty," love affair of Washington with, i. 95;

marries Henry Lee, 96.

HALDIMAND, SIR FREDERICK,

leads Indians against colonists, i. 325.

Hale, Nathan, compared with André, i. 288.

Half-King,

kept to English alliance by Washington, i. 68;

his criticism of Washington's first campaign, 76.

Hamilton, Alexander,

forces Gates to send back troops to Washington, i. 216, 217;

remark on councils of war before Monmouth, 234;

informs Washington of Arnold's treason, 284;

sent to intercept Arnold, 285;

writes letters on government and finance, 298;

leads attack at Yorktown, i. 316;

requests release of Asgill, 329;

aids Washington in Congress, 333;

only man beside Washington and Franklin to realize American future, ii. 7;

letters of Washington to on necessity of a strong government, 17, 18;

writes letters to Duane and Morris, 19;

speech in Federal Convention and departure, 35;

counseled by Washington, 39;

consulted by Washington as to etiquette, 54;

made secretary of treasury, 66;

his character, 67;

his report on the mint, 81;

on the public credit, 107;

upheld by Washington, 107, 108;

his arrangement with Jefferson, 108;

argument on the bank, 110;

his success largely due to Washington, 112;

his report on manufactures, 112, 114, 116;

advocates an excise, 122;

fails to realize its unpopularity, 123;

accompanies expedition to suppress Whiskey Rebellion, 128;

comprehends French Revolution, 139;

frames questions to cabinet on neutrality, 147;

urges decisive measures against Genet, 154;

argues against United States being bound by French treaty, 169;

selected for English mission, but withdraws, 177;

not likely to have done better than Jay, 183;

mobbed in defending Jay treaty, 187;

writes Camillus letters in favor of Jay treaty, 206;

intrigued against by Monroe, 212;

causes for his breach with Jefferson, 224;

his aristocratic tendencies, 225;

attacked by Jefferson and his friends, 228, 229;

disposes of the charges, 229;

retorts in newspapers with effect, 230;

ceases at Washington's request, 230, 234;

resigns from the cabinet, 234;

desires Washington's reëlection, 235;

selected by Washing, ton as senior general, 286;

appeals to Washington against Adams's reversal of rank, 286;

fails to soothe Knox's anger, 288;

report on army organization, 290;

letter of Washington to, condemning Adams's French mission, 293;

fears anarchy from Democratic success, 295;

approves Alien and Sedition Acts, 296;

his scheme of a military academy approved by Washington, 299;

Washington's affection for, 317, 362;

his ability early recognized by Washington, 334, 335;

aids Washington in literary points, 340;

takes care of Lafayette's son, 366.

Hammond, George,

protests against violations of neutrality, ii. 151;

his arrival as British minister, 169;

his offensive tone, 173;

does not disavow Lord Dorchester's speech to Indians, 176;

gives Fauchet letters to Wolcott, 195;

intrigues with American public men, 200.

Hampden, John,

compared with Washington, ii. 312, 313.

Hancock, John,

disappointed at Washington's receiving command of army, i. 135;

his character, ii. 74;

refuses to call first on Washington as President, 75;

apologizes and calls, 75, 76.

Hardin, Colonel,

twice surprised and defeated by Indians, ii. 93.

Harmar, Colonel,

invades Indian country, ii. 92;

attacks the Miamis, 93;

sends out unsuccessful expeditions and retreats, 93;

court-martialed and resigns, 93.

Harrison, Benjamin,

letters of Washington to, i. 259, 261; ii. 10.

Hartley, Mrs.——,

admired by Washington, i. 95.

Heard, Sir Isaac,

Garter King at Arms, makes out a pedigree for Washington, i. 30, 31.

Heath, General,

checks Howe at Frog's Point, i. 173;

left in command at New York, 311.

Henry, Patrick,

his resolutions supported by Washington, i. 119;

accompanies him to Philadelphia, 128;

his tribute to Washington's influence, 130;

ready for war, 132;

letters of Conway cabal to against Washington, 222;

letter of Washington to, 225;

appealed to by Washington on behalf of Constitution, ii. 38;

an opponent of the Constitution, 71;

urged by Washington to oppose Virginia resolutions, 266-268, 293;

a genuine American, 309;

offered secretaryship of state, 324;

friendship of Washington for, 362.

Hertburn, Sir William de,

ancestor of Washington family, i. 31, 33.

Hessians,

in Revolution, i. 194.

Hickey, Thomas,

hanged for plotting to murder Washington, i. 160.

Hobby,——, a sexton,

Washington's earliest teacher, i. 48.

Hopkinson, Francis,

letter of Washington to, ii. 3.

Houdon, J.A., sculptor,

on Washington's appearance, ii. 386.

Howe, Lord,

arrives at New York with power to negotiate and pardon, i. 161;

refuses to give Washington his title, 161;

tries to negotiate with Congress, 167;

escapes D'Estaing at Delaware, 244;

attacks D'Estaing off Newport, 244.

Howe, Sir William,

has controversy with Washington over treatment of prisoners, i. 148;

checked at Frog's Point, 173;

attacks cautiously at Chatterton Hill, 173;

retreats and attacks forts on Hudson, 174;

takes Fort Washington, 175;

goes into winter quarters in New York, 177, 186;

suspected of purpose to meet Burgoyne, 194, 195;

baffled in advance across New Jersey by Washington, 194;

goes by sea, 195;

arrives at Head of Elk, 196;

defeats Washington at Brandywine, 197;

camps at Germantown, 199;

withdraws after Germantown into Philadelphia, 201;

folly of his failure to meet Burgoyne, 205, 206;

offers battle in vain to Washington, 218;

replaced by Clinton, 232;

tries to cut off Lafayette, 233.

Huddy, Captain,

captured by English, hanged by Tories, i. 327.

Humphreys, Colonel,

letters of Washington to, ii. 13, 339;

at opening of Congress, 78;

commissioner to treat with Creeks, 90;

anecdote of, 375.

Huntington, Lady,

asks Washington's aid in Christianizing Indians, ii. 4.

IMPRESSMENT,

right of, maintained by England, ii. 181.

Independence,

not wished, but foreseen, by Washington, i. 131, 156;

declared by Congress, possibly through Washington's influence, 160.

Indians,

wars with in Virginia, i. 37, 38;

in French and Indian war, 67,68;

desert English, 76;

in Braddock's defeat, 85, 86, 88;

restless before Revolution, 122;

in War of Revolution, 266, 270;

punished by Sullivan, 269;

policy toward, early suggested by Washington, 344;

recommendations relative to in Washington's address to Congress, ii. 82;

the "Indian problem" under Washington's administration, 83-105;

erroneous popular ideas of, 84, 85;

real character and military ability, 85-87;

understood by Washington, 87, 88;

a real danger in 1788, 88;

situation in the Northwest, 89;

difficulties with Cherokees and Creeks, 89, 90;

influence of Spanish intrigue, 90;

successful treaty with Creeks, 90, 91;

wisdom of this policy, 92;

warfare in the Northwest, 92;

defeats of Harmar and Hardin, 93;

causes for the failure, 93, 94;

intrigues of England, 92, 94, 175, 178;

expedition and defeat of St. Clair, 95-97;

results, 99;

expedition of Wayne, 100, 102;

his victory, 103;

success of Washington's policy toward, 104, 105.

Iredell, James,

appointed to Supreme Court, ii. 73.

JACKSON, MAJOR,

accompanies Washington to opening of Congress, ii. 78.

Jameson, Colonel,

forwards Andrews letter to Arnold, i. 284;

receives orders from Washington, 285.

Jay, John,

on opposition in Congress, to Washington, i. 222;

consulted by Washington as to etiquette, ii. 54;

appointed chief justice, 72;

publishes card against Genet, 159;

appointed on special mission to England, 177;

his character, 177;

instructions from Washington, 179;

his reception in England, 180;

difficulties in negotiating, 181;

concludes treaty, 182;

burnt in effigy while absent, 186;

execrated after news of treaty, 187;

hampered by Monroe in France, 213.

Jay treaty, ii. 180-184;

opposition to and debate over signing, 184-201;

reasons of Washington for signing, 205.

Jefferson, Thomas,

his flight from Cornwallis, i. 307;

discusses with Washington needs of government, ii. 9;

adopts French democratic phraseology, 27;

contrast with Washington, 27, 28, 69;

criticises Washington's manners, 56;

made secretary of state, 68;

his previous relations with Washington, 68;

his character, 69;

supposed to be a friend of the Constitution, 72;

his objections to President's opening Congress, 79;

on weights and measures, 81;

letter of Washington to on assumption of state debts, 107;

makes bargain with Hamilton, 108;

opposes a bank, 110;

asked to prepare neutrality instructions, 146;

upholds Genet, 153;

argues against him publicly, supports him privately, 154;

notified of French privateer Little Sarah, 155;

allows it to sail, 155;

retires to country and is censured by Washington, 156;

assures Washington that vessel will wait his decision, 156;

his un-American attitude, 157;

wishes to make terms of note demanding Genet's recall mild, 158;

argues that United States is bound by French treaty, 170, 171;

begs Madison to answer Hamilton's "Camillus" letters, 206;

his attitude upon first entering cabinet, 223;

causes for his breach with Hamilton, 224;

jealousy, incompatibility of temper, 224;

his democratic opinions, 225;

skill in creating party catch-words, 225;

prints "Rights of Man" with note against Adams, 226;

attacks him further in letter to Washington, 226;

brings Freneau to Philadelphia and gives him an office, 227;

denies any connection with Freneau's newspaper, 227;

his real responsibility, 228;

his purpose to undermine Hamilton, 228;

causes his friends to attack him, 229;

writes a letter to Washington attacking Hamilton's treasury measures, 229;

fails to produce any effect, 230;

winces under Hamilton's counter attacks, 230;

reiterates charges and asserts devotion to Constitution, 231;

continues attacks and resigns, 234;

wishes reëlection of Washington, 235;

his charge of British sympathies resented by Washington, 252;

plain letter of Washington to, 259;

Washington's opinion of, 259;

suggests Logan's mission to France, 262, 265;

takes oath as vice-president, 276;

regarded as a Jacobin by Federalists, 294;

jealous of Washington, 306;

accuses him of senility, 307;

a genuine American, 309.

Johnson, William,

Tory leader in New York, i. 143.

Johnstone, Governor,

peace commissioner, i. 233.

Jumonville, De, French leader,

declared to have been assassinated by Washington, i. 74,79;

really a scout and spy, 75.

KENTUCKY RESOLUTIONS,

condemned by Washington, ii. 266-268.

King, Clarence,

his opinion that Washington was not American, ii. 308.

King, Rufus,

publishes card exposing Genet, ii. 159.

King's Bridge,

fight at, i. 170.

Kip's Landing,

fight at, i. 168.

Kirkland, Rev. Samuel,

negotiates with Six Nations, ii. 101.

Knox, Henry,

brings artillery to Boston from Ticonderoga, i. 152;

accompanies Washington to meet De Rochambeau, 283;

at West Point, 285;

sent by Washington to confer with governors of States, 295;

urged by Washington to establish Western posts, ii. 7;

letters of Washington to, 30, 39;

made secretary of war, 65;

his character, 65;

a Federalist, 71;

deals with Creeks, 91;

urges decisive measure against Genet, 154, 155;

letters of Washington to, 260;

selected by Washington as third major-general, 286;

given first place by Adams, 286;

angry at Hamilton's higher rank, 288;

refuses the office, 289;

his offer to serve on Washington's staff refused, 289;

Washington's affection for, 317, 362.

LAFAYETTE, Madame de,

aided by Washington, ii. 366;

letter of Washington to, 377.

Lafayette, Marquis de,

Washington's regard for, i. 192;

his opinion of Continental troops, 196;

sent on fruitless journey to the lakes by cabal, 222, 253;

encouraged by Washington, 225;

narrowly escapes being cut off by Clinton, 233;

appointed to attack British rear, 235;

superseded by Lee, 235;

urges Washington to come, 235;

letter of Washington to, regarding quarrel between D'Estaing and Sullivan, 245;

regard of Washington for, 249;

desires to conquer Canada, 254;

his plan not supported in France, 256;

works to get a French army sent, 264;

brings news of French army and fleet, 274;

tries to get De Rochambeau to attack New York, 280;

accompanies Washington to meet De Rochambeau, 283;

told by Washington of Arnold's treachery, 285;

on court to try André, 287;

opinion of Continental soldiers, 293;

harasses Cornwallis, 307;

defeated at Green Springs, 307;

watches Cornwallis at Yorktown, 308;

reinforced by De Grasse, 312;

persuades him to remain, 315;

sends Washington French wolf-hounds, ii. 2;

letters of Washington to, 23, 26, 118, 144, 165, 222, 261;

his son not received by Washington, 253;

later taken care of, 277, 281, 366;

his worth, early seen by Washington, 334;

Washington's affection for, 365;

sends key of Bastile to Mt. Vernon, 365;

helped by Washington, 365,366.

Laurens, Henry,

letter of Conway cabal to, making attack on Washington, i. 222;

letters of Washington to, 254, 288;

sent to Paris to get loans, 299.

Lauzun, Duc de,

repulses Tarleton at Yorktown, i. 317.

Lear, Tobias,

Washington's secretary, ii. 263;

his account of Washington's last illness, 299-303, 385;

letters to, 361, 382.

Lee, Arthur,

example of Virginia gentleman educated abroad, i. 23.

Lee, Charles,

visits Mt. Vernon, his character, i. 132;

accompanies Washington to Boston, 136;

aids Washington in organizing army, 140;

disobeys orders and is captured, 175;

objects to attacking Clinton, 234;

first refuses, then claims command of van, 235;

disobeys orders and retreats, 236;

rebuked by Washington, 236, 237;

court martial of and dismissal from army, 237;

his witty remark on taking oath of allegiance, ii. 375.

Lee, Henry, marries Lucy Grymes,

Washington's "Lowland Beauty," i. 96.

Lee, Henry,

son of Lucy Grymes, Washington's "Lowland Beauty," i. 96; ii. 362;

captures Paulus Hook, i. 269;

letters of Washington to, ii. 23, 26, 149, 235, 239, 242, 252;

considered for command against Indians, 100;

commands troops to suppress Whiskey Rebellion, 127;

Washington's affection for, 362.

Lee, Richard Henry,

unfriendly to Washington, i. 214;

letter of Washington to, ii. 160.

Lewis, Lawrence,

at opening of Congress, ii. 78;

takes social duties at Mt. Vernon, 280.

Liancourt, Duc de,

refused reception by Washington, ii. 253.

Lincoln, Abraham,

compared with Washington, i. 349; ii. 308-313.

Lincoln, Benjamin,

sent by Washington against Burgoyne, i. 210;

fails to understand Washington's policy and tries to hold Charleston, 273, 274;

captured, 276;

commissioner to treat with Creeks, ii. 90.

Lippencott, Captain,

orders hanging of Huddy, i. 327;

acquitted by English court martial, 328.

Little Sarah,

the affair of, 155-157.

Livingston, Chancellor,

administers oath at Washington's inauguration, ii. 46.

Livingston, Edward,

moves call for papers relating to Jay treaty, ii. 207.

Logan, Dr. George,

goes on volunteer mission to France, ii. 262;

ridiculed by Federalists, publishes defense, 263;

calls upon Washington, 263;

mercilessly snubbed, 263-265.

Long Island,

battle of, i. 164,165.

London, Lord,

disappoints Washington by his inefficiency, i. 91.

Lovell, James,

follows the Adamses in opposing Washington, i. 214;

wishes to supplant him by Gates, 215;

writes hostile letters, 222.

MACKENZIE, CAPTAIN,

letter of Washington to, i. 130.

Madison, James,

begins to desire a stronger government, ii. 19, 29;

letters of Washington to, 30, 39, 53;

chosen for French mission, but does not go, 211.

Magaw, Colonel,

betrayed at Fort Washington, i. 175.

"Magnolia,"

Washington's pet colt, beaten in a race, i. 99, 113; ii. 381.

Marshall, John,

Chief Justice, on special commission to France, ii. 284;

tells anecdote of Washington's anger at cowardice, 392.

Maryland, the Washington family in, i.36.

Mason, George,

discusses political outlook with Washington, i. 119;

letter of Washington to, 263;

an opponent of the Constitution, ii. 71;

friendship of Washington for, 362;

debates with Washington the site of Pohick Church, 381.

Mason, S.T.,

communicates Jay treaty to Bache, ii. 185.

Massey, Rev. Lee,

rector of Pohick Church, i. 44.

Mathews, George,

letter of Washington to, i. 294.

Matthews, Edward,

makes raids in Virginia, i. 269.

Mawhood, General,

defeated at Princeton, i. 182.

McGillivray, Alexander,

chief of the Creeks, ii. 90;

his journey to New York and interview with Washington, 91.

McHenry, James,

at West Point, i. 284;

letters to, 325, ii. 22, 278, 287, 384;

becomes secretary of war, 246;

advised by Washington not to appoint Democrats, 260, 261.

McKean, Thomas, given letters to Dr. Logan, ii. 265.

McMaster, John B.,

calls Washington "an unknown man," i. 7, ii. 304;

calls him cold, 332, 352;

and avaricious in small ways, 352.

Meade, Colonel Richard,

Washington's opinion of, ii. 335.

Mercer, Hugh,

killed at Princeton, i. 182.

Merlin,——,

president of Directory, interview with Dr. Logan, ii. 265.

Mifflin, Thomas,

wishes to supplant Washington by Gates, i. 216;

member of board of war, 221;

put under Washington's orders, 226;

replies to Washington's surrender of commission, 349;

meets Washington on journey to inauguration, ii. 44;

notified of the Little Sarah, French privateer, 154;

orders its seizure, 155.

Militia,

abandon Continental army, i. 167;

cowardice of, 168;

despised by Washington, 169;

leave army again, 175;

assist in defeat of Burgoyne, 211.

Mischianza, i. 232.

Monmouth,

battle of, i. 235-239.

Monroe, James,

appointed minister to France, ii. 211;

his character, 212;

intrigues against Hamilton, 212;

effusively received in Paris, 212;

acts foolishly, 213;

tries to interfere with Jay, 213;

upheld, then condemned and recalled by Washington, 213, 214;

writes a vindication, 215;

Washington's opinion of him, 215, 216;

his selection one of Washington's few mistakes, 334.

Montgomery, General Richard,

sent by Washington to invade Canada, i. 143.

Morgan, Daniel,

sent against Burgoyne by Washington, i. 208;

at Saratoga, 210;

wins battle of Cowpens, joins Greene, 301.

Morris, Gouverneur,

letters of Washington to, i. 248, 263;

efforts towards financial reform, 264;

quotes speech of Washington at Federal convention in his eulogy, ii. 31;

discussion as to his value as an authority, 32, note;

goes to England on unofficial mission, 137;

balked by English insolence, 137;

comprehends French Revolution, 139;

letters of Washington to, on the Revolution, 140,142,145;

recall demanded by France, 211;

letter of Washington to, 217,240, 254;

Washington's friendship for, 363.

Morris, Robert,

letter of Washington to, i. 187;

helps Washington to pay troops, 259;

efforts towards financial reform, 264;

difficulty in helping Washington in 1781, 309, 312;

considered for secretary of treasury, ii. 66;

his bank policy approved by Washington, 110;

Washington's friendship for, 363.

Moustier,

demands private access to Washington, ii. 59;

refused, 59, 60.

Murray, Vans, minister in Holland,

interview with Dr. Logan, ii. 264;

nominated for French mission by Adams, 292;

written to by Washington, 292.

Muse, Adjutant,

trains Washington in tactics and art of war, i. 65.

NAPOLEON,

orders public mourning for Washington's death, i. 1.

Nelson, General,

letter of Washington to, i. 257.

Newburgh,

addresses, ii. 335.

New England,

character of people, i. 138;

attitude toward Washington, 138, 139;

troops disliked by Washington, 152;

later praised by him, 152, 317, 344;

threatened by Burgoyne's invasion, 204;

its delegates in Congress demand appointment of Gates, 208;

and oppose Washington, 214;

welcomes Washington on tour as President, ii. 74;

more democratic than other colonies before Revolution, 315;

disliked by Washington for this reason, 316.

Newenham, Sir Edward,

letter of Washington to on American foreign policy, ii. 133.

New York,

Washington's first visit to, i. 99, 100;

defense of, in Revolution, 159-169;

abandoned by Washington, 169;

Howe establishes himself in, 177;

reoccupied by Clinton, 264;

Washington's journey to, ii. 44;

inauguration in, 46;

rioting in, against Jay treaty, 187.

Nicholas, John,

letter of Washington to, ii. 259.

Nicola, Col.,

urges Washington to establish a despotism, i. 337.

Noailles, Vicomte de, French émigré,

referred to State Department, ii. 151, 253.

O'FLINN, CAPTAIN,

Washington's friendship with, ii. 318.

Organization of the national government,

absence of materials to work with, ii. 51;

debate over title of President, 52;

over his communications with Senate, 53;

over presidential etiquette, 53-56;

appointment of officials to cabinet offices established by Congress, 64-71;

appointment of supreme court judges, 72.

Orme,——,

letter of Washington to, i. 84.

PAINE, THOMAS,

his "Rights of Man" reprinted by Jefferson, ii. 226.

Parkinson, Richard,

says Washington was harsh to slaves, i. 105;

contradicts statement elsewhere, 106;

tells stories of Washington's pecuniary exactness, ii. 353, 354, 382;

his character, 355;

his high opinion of Washington, 356.

Parton, James,

considers Washington as good but commonplace, ii. 330, 374.

Peachey, Captain,

letter of Washington to, i. 92.

Pendleton, Edmund,

Virginia delegate to Continental Congress, i. 128.

Pennsylvania,

refuses to fight the French, i. 72,83;

fails to help Washington, 225;

remonstrates against his going into winter quarters, 229;

condemned by Washington, 229;

compromises with mutineers, 292.

Philipse, Mary,

brief love-affair of Washington with, i. 99, 100.

Phillips, General,

commands British troops in Virginia, i. 303;

death of, 303.

Pickering, Colonel, quiets Six Nations, ii. 94.

Pickering, Timothy,

letter of Washington to, on French Revolution, ii. 140;

on failure of Spanish negotiations, 166;

recalls Washington to Philadelphia to receive Fauchet letter, 195;

succeeds Randolph, 246;

letters of Washington to, on party government, 247;

appeals to Washington against Adams's reversal of Hamilton's rank, 286;

letters of Washington to, 292, 324;

criticises Washington as a commonplace person, 307.

Pinckney, Charles C.,

letter of Washington to, ii. 90;

appointed to succeed Monroe as minister to France, 214;

refused reception, 284;

sent on special commission, 284;

named by Washington as general, 286;

accepts without complaint of Hamilton's higher rank, 290;

Washington's friendship with, 363.

Pinckney, Thomas,

sent on special mission to Spain, ii. 166;

unsuccessful at first, 166;

succeeds in making a good treaty, 167;

credit of his exploit, 168;

letter of Washington to, 325.

Pitt, William,

his conduct of French war, i. 93, 94.

Princeton,

battle of, i. 181-3.

Privateers,

sent out by Washington, i. 150.

"Protection"

favored in the first Congress, ii. 113-115;

arguments of Hamilton for, 114, 115;

of Washington, 116-122.

Provincialism,

of Americans, i. 193;

with regard to foreign officers, 193, 234, 250-252;

with regard to foreign politics, ii. 131, 132, 163, 237, 255.

Putnam, Israel,

escapes with difficulty from New York, i. 169;

fails to help Washington at Trenton, 180;

warned to defend the Hudson, 195;

tells Washington of Burgoyne's surrender, 211;

rebuked by Washington, 217;

amuses Washington, ii. 374.

RAHL, COLONEL,

defeated and killed at Trenton, i. 181.

Randolph, Edmund,

letter of Washington to, ii. 30, 39;

relations with Washington, 64;

appointed attorney-general, 64;

his character, 64, 65;

a friend of the Constitution, 71;

opposes a bank, 110;

letter of Washington to, on protective bounties, 118;

drafts neutrality proclamation, 147;

vacillates with regard to Genet, 154;

argues that United States is bound by French alliance, 170;

succeeds Jefferson as secretary of state, 184;

directed to prepare a remonstrance against English "provision order," 185;

opposed to Jay treaty, 188;

letter of Washington to, on conditional ratification, 189, 191, 192, 194;

guilty, apparently, from Fauchet letter, of corrupt practices, 196;

his position not a cause for Washington's signing treaty, 196-200;

receives Fauchet letter, resigns, 201;

his personal honesty, 201;

his discreditable carelessness, 202;

fairly treated by Washington, 203, 204;

his complaints against Washington, 203;

letter of Washington to, concerning Monroe, 213;

at first a Federalist, 246.

Randolph, John,

on early disappearance of Virginia colonial society, i. 15.

Rawdon, Lord,

commands British forces in South, too distant to help Cornwallis, i. 304.

Reed, Joseph,

letters of Washington to, i. 151, 260.

Revolution, War of,

foreseen by Washington, i. 120, 122;

Lexington and Concord, 133;

Bunker Hill, 136;

siege of Boston, 137-154;

organization of army, 139-142;

operations in New York, 143;

invasion of Canada, 143, 144;

question as to treatment of prisoners, 145-148;

causes of British defeat, 154, 155;

campaign near New York, 161-177;

causes for attempted defense of Brooklyn, 163, 164;

battle of Long Island, 164-165;

escape of Americans, 166;

affair at Kip's Bay, 168;

at King's Bridge, 170;

at Frog's Point, 173;

battle of White Plains, 173;

at Chatterton Hill, 174;

capture of Forts Washington and Lee, 174, 175;

pursuit of Washington into New Jersey, 175-177;

retirement of Howe to New York, 177;

battle of Trenton, 180, 181;

campaign of Princeton, 181-183;

its brilliancy, 183;

Philadelphia campaign, 194-202;

British march across New Jersey prevented by Washington, 194;

sea voyage to Delaware, 195;

battle of the Brandywine, 196-198;

causes for defeat, 198;

defeat of Wayne, 198;

Philadelphia taken by Howe, 199;

battle of Germantown, 199;

its significance, 200, 201;

Burgoyne's invasion, 203-211;

Washington's preparations for, 204-206;

Howe's error in neglecting to cooperate, 205;

capture of Ticonderoga, 207;

battles of Bennington, Oriskany, Fort Schuyler, 210;

battle of Saratoga, 211;

British repulse at Fort Mercer, 217;

destruction of the forts, 217;

fruitless skirmishing before Philadelphia, 218;

Valley Forge, 228-232;

evacuation of Philadelphia, 234;

battle of Monmouth, 235-239;

its effect, 239;

cruise and failure of D'Estaing at Newport, 243, 244;

failure of D'Estaing at Savannah, 247, 248;

storming of Stony Point, 268, 269;

Tory raids near New York, 269;

standstill in 1780, 272;

siege and capture of Charleston, 273, 274, 276;

operations of French and Americans near Newport, 277, 278;

battle of Camden, 281;

treason of Arnold, 281-289;

battle of Cowpens, 301;

retreat of Greene before Cornwallis, 302;

battle of Guilford Court House, 302;

successful operations of Greene, 302, 303;

Southern campaign planned by Washington, 304-311;

feints against Clinton, 306;

operations of Cornwallis and Lafayette in Virginia, 307;

naval supremacy secured by Washington, 310, 311;

battle of De Grasse and Graves off Chesapeake, 312;

transport of American army to Virginia, 311-313;

siege and capture of Yorktown, 315-318;

masterly character of campaign, 318-320;

petty operations before New York, 326;

treaty of peace, 342.

Rives,

on Washington's doubts of constitutionality of Bank, ii. 110.

Robinson, Beverly,

speaker of Virginia House of Burgesses, his compliment to Washington, i. 102.

Robinson, Colonel,

loyalist, i. 282.

Rumsey, James,

the inventor, asks Washington's consideration of his steamboat, ii. 4.

Rush, Benjamin,

describes Washington's impressiveness, ii. 389.

Rutledge, John,

letter of Washington to, i. 281;

nomination rejected by Senate, ii. 63;

nominated to Supreme Court, 73.

ST. CLAIR, Arthur,

removed after loss of Ticonderoga, i. 208;

appointed to command against Indians, ii. 94;

receives instructions and begins expedition, 95;

defeated, 96;

his character, 99;

fair treatment by Washington, 99;

popular execration of, 105.

St. Pierre, M. de,

French governor in Ohio, i. 67.

St. Simon, Count,

reinforces Lafayette, i. 312.

Sandwich, Lord,

calls all Yankees cowards, i. 155.

Saratoga,

anecdote concerning, i. 202.

Savage, Edward,

characteristics of his portrait of Washington, i. 13.

Savannah,

siege of, i. 247.

Scammel, Colonel,

amuses Washington, ii. 374.

Schuyler, Philip,

accompanies Washington to Boston, i. 136;

appointed military head in New York, 136;

directed by Washington how to meet Burgoyne, 204;

fails to carry out directions, 207;

removed, 208;

value of his preparations, 209.

Scott, Charles, commands expedition against Indians, ii. 95.

Sea-power,

its necessity seen by Washington, i. 283, 303, 304, 306, 310, 318, 319.

Sectional feeling,

deplored by Washington, ii. 222.

Sharpe, Governor,

offers Washington a company, i. 80;

Washington's reply to, 81.

Shays's Rebellion,

comments of Washington and Jefferson upon, ii. 26, 27.

Sherman, Roger,

makes sarcastic remark about Wilkinson, i. 220.

Shirley, Governor William,

adjusts matter of Washington's rank, i. 91, 97.

Short, William, minister to Holland,

on commission regarding opening of Mississippi, ii. 166.

Six Nations,

make satisfactory treaties, ii. 88;

stirred up by English, 94;

but pacified, 94, 101.

Slavery,

in Virginia, i. 20;

its evil effects, 104;

Washington's attitude toward slaves, 105;

his condemnation of the system, 106, 107;

gradual emancipation favored, 107, 108.

Smith, Colonel,

letter of Washington to, ii. 340.

Spain,

instigates Indians to hostilities, ii. 89, 94, 101;

blocks Mississippi, 135;

makes treaty with Pinckney opening Mississippi, 167, 168;

angered at Jay treaty, 210.

Sparks, Jared,

his alterations of Washington's letters, ii. 337, 338.

Spotswood, Alexander,

asks Washington's opinion of Alien and Sedition Acts, ii. 297.

Stamp Act,

Washington's opinion of, i. 119, 120.

Stark, General,

leads attack at Trenton, i. 181.

States, in the Revolutionary war,

appeals of Washington to, i. 142, 186, 204, 259, 277, 295, 306, 323, 324, 326, 344;

issue paper money, 258;

grow tired of the war, 290;

alarmed by mutinies, 294;

try to appease soldiers, 295, 296;

their selfishness condemned by Washington, 333; ii. 21, 23;

thwart Indian policy of Congress, 88.

Stephen, Adam,

late in attacking at Germantown, i. 199.

Steuben, Baron,

Washington's appreciation of, i. 192, 249;

drills the army at Valley Forge, 232;

annoys Washington by wishing higher command, 249;

sent on mission to demand surrender of Western posts, 343;

his worth recognized by Washington, ii. 334.

Stirling, Lord,

defeated and captured at Long Island, i. 165.

Stockton, Mrs.,

letter of Washington to, ii. 349.

Stone, General,

tells stories of Washington's closeness, ii. 353, 354.

Stuart, David,

letters of Washington to, ii. 107, 221, 222, 258.

Stuart, Gilbert,

his portrait of Washington contrasted with Savage's, i. 13.

Sullivan, John, General,

surprised at Long Island, i. 165;

attacks at Trenton, 180;

surprised and crushed at Brandywine, 197, 198;

unites with D'Estaing to attack Newport, 243;

angry at D'Estaing's desertion, 244;

soothed by Washington, 244;

sent against Indians, 266, 269.

Supreme Court,

appointed by Washington, ii. 72.

TAFT,——,

kindness of Washington toward, ii. 367.

Talleyrand,

eulogistic report to Napoleon on death of Washington, i. 1, note;

remark on Hamilton, ii. 139;

refused reception by Washington, 253.

Tarleton, Sir Banastre,

tries to escape at Yorktown, i. 317.

Thatcher, Dr.,

on Washington's appearance when taking command of army, i. 137.

Thomson, Charles,

complimented by Washington on retiring from secretary-ship of Continental Congress, ii. 350.

Tories,

hated by Washington, i. 156;

his reasons, 157;

active in New York, 158;

suppressed by Washington, 159;

in Philadelphia, impressed by Continental army, 196;

make raids on frontier, 266;

strong in Southern States, 267;

raids under Tryon, 269.

Trent, Captain,

his incompetence in dealing with Indians and French, i. 72.

Trenton, campaign of, i. 180-183.

Trumbull, Governor,

letter of Washington to, refusing to stand for a third term, ii. 269-271;

other letters, 298.

Trumbull, John,

on New England army before Boston, i. 139.

Trumbull, Jonathan,

his message on better government praised by Washington, ii. 21;

letters to, 42;

Washington's friendship for, 363.

Tryon, Governor,

Tory leader in New York, i. 143;

his intrigues stopped by Washington, 158, 159;

conspires to murder Washington, 160;

makes raids in Connecticut, 269.

VALLEY FORGE,

Continental Army at, i. 228-232.

Van Braam, Jacob,

friend of Lawrence Washington, trains George in fencing, i. 65;

accompanies him on mission to French, 66.

Vergennes,

requests release of Asgill, i. 329, 330;

letter of Washington to, 330;

proposes to submit disposition of a subsidy to Washington, 332.

Virginia, society in,

before the Revolution, i. 15-29;

its entire change since then, 15, 16;

population, distribution, and numbers, 17, 18;

absence of towns, 18;

and town life, 19;

trade and travel in, 19;

social classes, 20-24;

slaves and poor whites, 20;

clergy, 21;

planters and their estates, 22;

their life, 22;

education, 23;

habits of governing, 24;

luxury and extravagance, 25;

apparent wealth, 26;

agreeableness of life, 27;

aristocratic ideals, 28;

vigor of stock, 29;

unwilling to fight French, 71;

quarrels with Dinwiddie, 71;

thanks Washington after his French campaign, 79;

terrified at Braddock's defeat, 88;

gives Washington command, 89;

fails to support him, 89, 90, 93;

bad economic conditions in, 104,105;

local government in, 117;

condemns Stamp Act, 119;

adopts non-importation, 121;

condemns Boston Port Bill, 123;

asks opinion of counties, 124;

chooses delegates to a congress, 127;

prepares for war, 132;

British campaign in, 307, 315-318;

ratifies Constitution, ii. 40;

evil effect of free trade upon, 116, 117;

nullification resolutions, 266;

strength of its aristocracy, 315.

WADE, COLONEL,

in command at West Point after Arnold's flight, i. 285.

Walker, Benjamin,

letter of Washington to, ii. 257.

Warren, James,

letters of Washington to, i. 262, ii. 118.

Washington,

ancestry, i. 30-40;

early genealogical researches concerning, 30-32;

pedigree finally established, 32;

origin of family, 33;

various members during middle ages, 34;

on royalist side in English civil war, 34, 36;

character of family, 35;

emigration to Virginia, 35, 36;

career of Washingtons in Maryland, 37;

in Virginia history, 38;

their estates, 39.

Washington, Augustine, father of George Washington,

birth, i. 35;

death, 39;

character, 39;

his estate, 41;

ridiculous part played by in Weems's anecdotes, 44, 47.

Washington, Augustine, half brother of George Washington,

keeps him after his father's death, i. 48.

Washington, Bushrod,

refused appointment as attorney by Washington, ii. 62;

educated by him, 370.

Washington, George,

honors to his memory in France, i. 1;

in England, 2;

grief in America, 3, 4;

general admission of his greatness, 4;

its significance, 5, 6;

tributes from England, 6;

from other countries, 6, 7;

yet an "unknown" man, 7;

minuteness of knowledge concerning, 8;

has become subject of myths, 9;

development of the Weems myth about, 10, 11;

necessity of a new treatment of, 12;

significant difference of real and ideal portraits of, 13;

his silence regarding himself, 14;

underlying traits, 14.

Early Life.

Ancestry, 30-41;

birth, 39;

origin of Weems's anecdotes about, 41-44;

their absurdity and evil results, 45-48;

early schooling, 48;

plan to send him to sea, 49, 50;

studies to be a surveyor, 51;

his rules of behavior, 52;

his family connections with Fairfaxes, 54, 55;

his friendship with Lord Fairfax, 56;

surveys Fairfax's estate, 57, 58, 59;

made public surveyor, 60;

his life at the time, 60, 61;

influenced by Fairfax's cultivation, 62;

goes to West Indies with his brother, 62;

has the small-pox, 63;

observations on the voyage, 63, 64;

returns to Virginia, 64;

becomes guardian of his brother's daughter, 64.

Service against the French and Indians.

Receives military training, 65;

a military appointment, 66;

goes on expedition to treat with French, 66;

meets Indians, 67;

deals with French, 67;

dangers of journey, 68;

his impersonal account, 69, 70;

appointed to command force against French, 71, 72;

his anger at neglect of Virginia Assembly, 73;

attacks and defeats force of Jumonville, 74;

called murderer by the French, 74;

surrounded by French at Great Meadows, 76;

surrenders, 76;

recklessness of his expedition, 77, 78;

effect of experience upon, 79;

gains a European notoriety, 79;

thanked by Virginia, 79;

protests against Dinwiddie's organization of soldiers, 80;

refuses to serve when ranked by British officers, 81;

accepts position on Braddock's staff, 82;

his treatment there, 82;

advises Braddock, 84;

rebuked for warning against surprise, 85;

his bravery in the battle, 86;

conducts retreat, 86, 87;

effect of experience on him, 87;

declines to solicit command of Virginia troops, 88;

accepts it when offered, 88;

his difficulties with Assembly, 89;

and with troops, 90;

settles question of rank, 91;

writes freely in criticism of government, 91, 92;

retires for rest to Mt. Vernon, 93;

offers services to General Forbes, 93;

irritated at slowness of English, 93, 94;

his love affairs, 95, 96;

journey to Boston, 97-101;

at festivities in New York and Philadelphia, 99;

meets Martha Custis, 101;

his wedding, 101, 102;

elected to House of Burgesses, 102;

confused at being thanked by Assembly, 102;

his local position, 103;

tries to farm his estate, 104;

his management of slaves, 105, 106, 108, 109;

cares for interests of old soldiers, 109;

rebukes a coward, 110;

cares for education of stepson, 111;

his furnishing of house, 112;

hunting habits, 113-115;

punishes a poacher, 116;

participates in colonial and local government, 117;

enters into society, 117, 118.

Congressional delegate from Virginia.

His influence in Assembly, 119;

discusses Stamp Act with Mason, 119;

foresees result to be independence, 119;

rejoices at its repeal, but notes Declaratory Act, 120;

ready to use force to defend colonial rights, 120;

presents non-importation resolutions to Burgesses, 121;

abstains from English products, 121;

notes ominous movements among Indians, 122;

on good terms with royal governors, 122, 123;

observes fast on account of Boston Port Bill, 123;

has controversy with Bryan Fairfax over Parliamentary policy, 124, 125, 126;

presides at Fairfax County meeting, 126;

declares himself ready for action, 126;

at convention of counties, offers to march to relief of Boston, 127;

elected to Continental Congress, 127;

his journey, 128;

silent in Congress, 129;

writes to a British officer that independence is not

desired, but war is certain, 130, 131;

returns to Virginia, 132;

aids in military preparations, 132;

his opinion after Concord, 133;

at second Continental Congress, wears uniform, 134;

made commander-in-chief, 134;

his modesty and courage in accepting position, 134, 135;

political motives for his choice, 135;

his popularity, 136;

his journey to Boston, 136, 137;

receives news of Bunker Hill, 136;

is received by Massachusetts Provincial Assembly, 137.

Commander of the Army.

Takes command at Cambridge, 137;

his impression upon people, 137, 138, 139;

begins reorganization of army, 139;

secures number of troops, 140;

enforces discipline, his difficulties, 140, 141;

forced to lead Congress, 142;

to arrange rank of officers, 142;

organizes privateers, 142;

discovers lack of powder, 143;

plans campaigns in Canada and elsewhere, 143, 144;

his plans of attack on Boston overruled by council of war, 144;

writes to Gage urging that captives be treated as prisoners of war, 145;

skill of his letter, 146;

retorts to Gage's reply, 147;

continues dispute with Howe, 148;

annoyed by insufficiency of provisions, 149;

and by desertions, 149;

stops quarrel between Virginia and Marblehead soldiers, 149;

suggests admiralty committees, 150;

annoyed by army contractors, 150;

and criticism, 151;

letter to Joseph Reed, 151;

occupies Dorchester Heights, 152;

begins to like New England men better, 152;

rejoices at prospect of a fight, 153;

departure of British due to his leadership, 154;

sends troops immediately to New York, 155;

enters Boston, 156;

expects a hard war, 156;

urges upon Congress the necessity of preparing for a long struggle, 156;

his growing hatred of Tories, 156, 157;

goes to New York, 157, 158;

difficulties of the situation, 158;

suppresses Tories, 159;

urges Congress to declare independence, 159, 160;

discovers and punishes a conspiracy to assassinate, 160;

insists on his title in correspondence with Howe, 161;

justice of his position, 162;

quiets sectional jealousies in army, 162;

his military inferiority to British, 163;

obliged by political considerations to attempt defense of New York, 163, 164;

assumes command on Long Island, 164;

sees defeat of his troops, 165;

sees plan of British fleet to cut off retreat, 166;

secures retreat of army, 167;

explains his policy of avoiding a pitched battle, 167;

anger at flight of militia at Kip's Bay, 168;

again secures safe retreat, 169;

secures slight advantage in a skirmish, 170;

continues to urge Congress to action, 170, 171;

success of his letters in securing a permanent army, 171;

surprised by advance of British fleet, 172;

moves to White Plains, 173;

blocks British advance, 174;

advises abandonment of American forts, 174;

blames himself for their capture, 175;

leads diminishing army through New Jersey, 175;

makes vain appeals for aid, 176;

resolves to take the offensive, 177;

desperateness of his situation, 178;

pledges his estate and private fortune to raise men, 179;

orders disregarded by officers, 180;

crosses Delaware and captures Hessians, 180, 181;

has difficulty in retaining soldiers, 181;

repulses Cornwallis at Assunpink, 181;

outwits Cornwallis and wins battle at Princeton, 182;

excellence of his strategy, 183;

effect of this campaign in saving Revolution, 183, 184;

withdraws to Morristown, 185;

fluctuations in size of army, 186;

his determination to keep the field, 186, 187;

criticised by Congress for not fighting, 187;

hampered by Congressional interference, 188;

issues proclamation requiring oath of allegiance, 188;

attacked in Congress for so doing, 189;

annoyed by Congressional alterations of rank, 189;

and by foreign military adventurers, 191;

value of his services in suppressing them, 192;

his American feelings, 191, 193;

warns Congress in vain that Howe means to attack Philadelphia, 193;

baffles Howe's advance across New Jersey, 195;

learning of his sailing, marches to defend Philadelphia, 195;

offers battle at Brandywine, 196, 197;

out-generaled and beaten, 197;

rallies army and prepares to fight again, 198;

prevented by storm, 199;

attacks British at Germantown, 199;

defeated, 200;

exposes himself in battle, 200;

real success of his action, 201;

despised by English, 202;

foresees danger of Burgoyne's invasion, 203;

sends instructions to Schuyler, 204;

urges use of New England and New York militia, 304;

dreads northern advance of Howe, 205;

determines to hold him at all hazards, 206, 207;

not cast down by loss of Ticonderoga, 207;

urges New England to rise, 208;

sends all possible troops, 208;

refuses to appoint a commander for Northern army, 208;

his probable reasons, 209;

continues to send suggestions, 210;

slighted by Gates after Burgoyne's surrender, 211;

rise of opposition in Congress, 212;

arouses ill-feeling by his frankness, 212, 213;

distrusted by Samuel and John Adams, 214;

by others, 214, 215;

formation of a plan to supplant him by Gates, 215;

opposed by Gates, Mifflin, and Conway, 215, 216;

angers Conway by preventing his increase in rank, 216;

is refused troops by Gates, 217;

defends and loses Delaware forts, 217;

refuses to attack Howe, 218;

propriety of his action, 219;

becomes aware of cabal, 220;

alarms them by showing extent of his knowledge, 221;

attacked bitterly in Congress, 222;

insulted by Gates, 223;

refuses to resign, 224;

refuses to notice cabal publicly, 224;

complains privately of slight support from Pennsylvania, 225;

continues to push Gates for explanations, 226;

regains complete control after collapse of cabal, 226, 227;

withdraws to Valley Forge, 227;

desperation of his situation, 228;

criticised by Pennsylvania legislature for going into winter quarters, 229;

his bitter reply, 229;

his unbending resolution, 230;

continues to urge improvements in army organization, 231;

manages to hold army together, 232;

sends Lafayette to watch Philadelphia, 233;

determines to fight, 234;

checked by Lee, 234;

pursues Clinton, 235;

orders Lee to attack British rearguard, 235;

discovers his force retreating, 236;

rebukes Lee and punishes him, 236, 237;

takes command and stops retreat, 237;

repulses British and assumes offensive, 238;

success due to his work at Valley Forge, 239;

celebrates French alliance, 241;

has to confront difficulty of managing allies, 241, 242;

welcomes D'Estaing, 243;

obliged to quiet recrimination after Newport failure, 244;

his letter to Sullivan, 244;

to Lafayette, 245;

to D'Estaing, 246;

tact and good effect of his letters, 246;

offers to cooperate in an attack on New York, 247;

furnishes admirable suggestions to D'Estaing, 247;

not dazzled by French, 248;

objects to giving rank to foreign officers, 248, 249;

opposes transfer of Steuben from inspectorship to the line, 249;

his thoroughly American position, 250;

absence of provinciality, 251, 252;

a national leader, 252;

opposes invasion of Canada, 253;

foresees danger of its recapture by France, 254, 255;

his clear understanding of French motives, 255, 256;

rejoices in condition of patriot cause, 257;

foresees ruin to army in financial troubles, 258;

has to appease mutinies among unpaid troops, 258;

appeals to Congress, 259;

urges election of better delegates to Congress, 259;

angry with speculators, 260, 261;

futility of his efforts, 261, 262;

his increasing alarm at social demoralization, 263;

effect of his exertions, 264;

conceals his doubts of the French, 264;

watches New York, 264;

keeps dreading an English campaign, 265;

labors with Congress to form a navy, 266;

plans expedition to chastise Indians, 266;

realizes that things are at a standstill in the North, 267;

sees danger to lie in the South, but determines to remain himself near New York, 267;

not consulted by Congress in naming general for Southern army, 268;

plans attack on Stony Point, 268;

hatred of ravaging methods of British warfare, 270;

again has great difficulties in winter quarters, 270;

unable to act on offensive in the spring, 270, 272;

unable to help South, 272;

advises abandonment of Charleston, 273;

learns of arrival of French army, 274;

plans a number of enterprises with it, 275, 276;

refuses, even after loss of Charleston, to abandon Hudson, 276;

welcomes Rochambeau, 277;

writes to Congress against too optimistic feelings, 278, 279;

has extreme difficulty in holding army together, 280;

urges French to attack New York, 280;

sends Maryland troops South after Camden, 281;

arranges meeting with Rochambeau at Hartford, 282;

popular enthusiasm over him, 283;

goes to West Point, 284;

surprised at Arnold's absence, 284;

learns of his treachery, 284, 285;

his cool behavior, 285;

his real feelings, 286;

his conduct toward André, 287;

its justice, 287, 288;

his opinion of Arnold, 288, 289;

his responsibility in the general breakdown of the Congress and army, 290;

obliged to quell food mutinies in army, 291, 292;

difficulty of situation, 292;

his influence the salvation of army, 293;

his greatness best shown in this way, 293;

rebukes Congress, 294;

appoints Greene to command Southern army, 295;

sends Knox to confer with state governors, 296;

secures temporary relief for army, 296;

sees the real defect is in weak government, 296;

urges adoption of Articles of Confederation, 297;

works for improvements in executive, 298,299;

still keeps a Southern movement in mind, 301;

unable to do anything through lack of naval power, 303;

rebukes Lund Washington for entertaining British at Mt. Vernon, 303;

still unable to fight, 304;

tries to frighten Clinton into remaining in New York, 305;

succeeds with aid of Rochambeau, 306;

explains his plan to French and to Congress, 306;

learns of De Grasse's approach, prepares to move South, 306;

writes to De Grasse to meet him in Chesapeake, 308;

fears a premature peace, 308;

pecuniary difficulties, 309;

absolute need of command of sea, 310;

persuades De Barras to join De Grasse, 311;

starts on march for Chesapeake, 311;

hampered by lack of supplies, 312;

and by threat of Congress to reduce army, 313;

passes through Mt. Vernon, 314;

succeeds in persuading De Grasse not to abandon him, 315;

besieges Cornwallis, 315;

sees capture of redoubts, 316;

receives surrender of Cornwallis, 317;

admirable strategy and management of campaign, 318;

his personal influence the cause of success, 318;

especially his use of the fleet, 319;

his management of Cornwallis through Lafayette, 319;

his boldness in transferring army away from New York, 320;

does not lose his head over victory, 321;

urges De Grasse to repeat success against Charleston, 322;

returns north, 322;

saddened by death of Custis, 322;

continues to urge Congress to action, 323;

writes letters to the States, 323;

does not expect English surrender, 324;

urges renewed vigor, 324;

points out that war actually continues, 325;

urges not to give up army until peace is actually secured, 325;

failure of his appeals, 326;

reduced to inactivity, 326;

angered at murder of Huddy, 327;

threatens Carleton with retaliation, 328;

releases Asgill at request of Vergennes and order of Congress, 329, 330;

disclaims credit, 330;

justification of his behavior, 330;

his tenderness toward the soldiers, 331;

jealousy of Congress toward him, 332;

warns Congress of danger of further neglect of army, 333, 334;

takes control of mutinous movement, 335;

his address to the soldiers, 336;

its effect, 336;

movement among soldiers to make him dictator, 337;

replies to revolutionary proposals, 337;

reality of the danger, 339;

causes for his behaviour, 340, 341;

a friend of strong government, but devoid of personal ambition, 342;

chafes under delay to disband army, 343;

tries to secure Western posts, 343;

makes a journey through New York, 343;

gives Congress excellent but futile advice, 344;

issues circular letter to governors, 344;

and farewell address to army, 345;

enters New York after departure of British, 345;

his farewell to his officers, 345;

adjusts his accounts, 346;

appears before Congress, 347;

French account of his action, 347;

makes speech resigning commission, 348, 349.

In Retirement.

Returns to Mt. Vernon, ii. I;

tries to resume old life, 2;

gives up hunting, 2;

pursued by lion-hunters and artists, 3;

overwhelmed with correspondence, 3;

receives letters from Europe, 4;

from cranks, 4;

from officers, 4;

his share in Society of Cincinnati, 4;

manages his estate, 5;

visits Western lands, 5;

family cares, 5, 6;

continues to have interest in public affairs, 6;

advises Congress regarding peace establishment, 6;

urges acquisition of Western posts, 7;

his broad national views, 7;

alone in realizing future greatness of country, 7, 8;

appreciates importance of the West, 8;

urges development of inland navigation, 9;

asks Jefferson's aid, 9, 10;

lays canal scheme before Virginia legislature, 10;

his arguments, 10;

troubled by offer of stock, 11;

uses it to endow two schools, 12;

significance of his scheme, 12, 13;

his political purposes in binding West to East, 13;

willing to leave Mississippi closed for this purpose, 14, 15, 16;

feels need of firmer union during Revolution, 17;

his arguments, 18, 19;

his influence starts movement for reform, 20;

continues to urge it during retirement, 21;

foresees disasters of confederation, 21;

urges impost scheme, 22;

condemns action of States, 22, 23, 25;

favours commercial agreement between Maryland and Virginia, 23;

stung by contempt of foreign powers, 24;

his arguments for a national government, 24;

points out designs of England, 25;

works against paper money craze in States, 26;

his opinion of Shays's rebellion, 26;

his position contrasted with Jefferson's, 27;

influence of his letters, 28, 29;

shrinks from participating in Federal convention, 29;

elected unanimously, 30;

refuses to go to a feeble convention, 30, 31;

finally makes up his mind, 31.

In the Federal Convention.

Speech attributed to Washington by Morris on duties of delegates, 31, 32;

chosen to preside, 33;

takes no part in debate, 34;

his influence in convention, 34, 35;

despairs of success, 35;

signs the Constitution, 36;

words attributed to him, 36;

silent as to his thoughts, 36, 37;

sees clearly danger of failure to ratify, 37;

tries at first to act indifferently, 38;

begins to work for ratification, 38;

writes letters to various people, 38, 39;

circulates copies of "Federalist," 40;

saves ratification in Virginia, 40;

urges election of Federalists to Congress, 41;

receives general request to accept presidency, 41;

his objections, 41, 42;

dreads failure and responsibility, 42;

elected, 42;

his journey to New York, 42-46;

speech at Alexandria, 43;

popular reception at all points, 44, 45;

his feelings, 46;

his inauguration, 46.

President.

His speech to Congress, 48;

urges no specific policy, 48, 49;

his solemn feelings, 49;

his sober view of necessities of situation, 50;

question of his title, 52;

arranges to communicate with Senate by writing, 52, 53;

discusses social etiquette, 53;

takes middle ground, 54;

wisdom of his action, 55;

criticisms by Democrats, 55, 56;

accused of monarchical leanings, 56, 57;

familiarizes himself with work already accomplished under Confederation, 58;

his business habits, 58;

refuses special privileges to French minister, 59, 60;

skill of his reply, 60, 61;

solicited for office, 61;

his views on appointment, 62;

favors friends of Constitution and old soldiers, 62;

success of his appointments, 63;

selects a cabinet, 64;

his regard for Knox 65;

for Morris, 66;

his skill in choosing, 66;

his appreciation of Hamilton, 67;

his grounds for choosing Jefferson, 68;

his contrast with Jefferson, 69;

his choice a mistake in policy, 70;

his partisan characteristics, 70, 71;

excludes anti-Federalists, 71;

nominates justices of Supreme Court, 72;

their party character, 73;

illness, 73;

visits the Eastern States, 73;

his reasons, 74;

stirs popular enthusiasm, 74;

snubbed by Hancock in Massachusetts, 75;

accepts Hancock's apology, 75;

importance of his action, 76;

success of journey, 76;

opens Congress, 78, 79;

his speech and its recommendations, 81;

how far carried out, 81-83;

national character of the speech, 83;

his fitness to deal with Indians, 87;

his policy, 88;

appoints commission to treat with Creeks, 90;

ascribes its failure to Spanish intrigue, 90;

succeeds by a personal interview in making treaty, 91;

wisdom of his policy, 92;

orders an expedition against Western Indians, 93;

angered at its failure, 94;

and at conduct of frontiersmen, 94;

prepares St. Clair's expedition, 95;

warns against ambush, 95;

hopes for decisive results, 97;

learns of St. Clair's defeat, 97;

his self-control, 97;

his outburst of anger against St. Clair, 97, 98;

masters his feelings, 98;

treats St. Clair kindly, 99;

determines on a second campaign, 100;

selects Wayne and other officers, 100;

tries to secure peace with tribes, 101;

efforts prevented by English influence, 101, 102;

and in South by conduct of Georgia, 103;

general results of his Indian policy, 104;

popular misunderstandings and criticism, 104, 105;

favors assumption of state debts by the government, 107, 108;

satisfied with bargain between Hamilton and Jefferson, 108;

his respectful attitude toward Constitution, 109;

asks opinions of cabinet on constitutionality of bank, 110;

signs bill creating it, 110;

reasons for his decision, 111;

supports Hamilton's financial policy, 112;

supports Hamilton's views on protection, 115, 116;

appreciates evil economic condition of Virginia, 116, 117;

sees necessity for self-sufficient industries in war time, 117;

urges protection, 118, 119, 120;

his purpose to build up national feeling, 121;

approves national excise tax, 122, 123;

does not realize unpopularity of method, 123;

ready to modify but insists on obedience, 124, 125;

issues proclamation against rioters, 125;

since Pennsylvania frontier continues rebellious, issues second proclamation threatening to use force, 127;

calls out the militia, 127;

his advice to leaders and troops, 128;

importance of Washington's firmness, 129;

his good judgment and patience, 130;

decides success of the central authority, 130;

early advocacy of separation of United States from European politics, 133;

studies situation, 134, 135;

sees importance of binding West with Eastern States, 135;

sees necessity of good relations with England, 137;

authorizes Morris to sound England as to exchange of ministers and a commercial treaty, 137;

not disturbed by British bad manners, 138;

succeeds in establishing diplomatic relations, 138;

early foresees danger of excess in French Revolution, 139, 140;

states a policy of strict neutrality, 140, 142, 143;

difficulties of his situation, 142;

objects to action of National Assembly on tobacco and oil, 144;

denies reported request by United States that England mediate with Indians, 145;

announces neutrality in case of a European war, 146;

instructs cabinet to prepare a neutrality proclamation, 147;

importance of this step not understood at time, 148, 149;

foresees coming difficulties, 149, 150;

acts cautiously toward émigrés, 151;

contrast with Genet, 152;

greets him coldly, 152;

orders steps taken to prevent violations of neutrality, 153, 154;

retires to Mt. Vernon for rest, 154;

on returning finds Jefferson has allowed Little Sarah to escape, 156;

writes a sharp note to Jefferson, 156;

anger at escape, 157;

takes matters out of Jefferson's hands, 157;

determines on asking recall of Genet, 158;

revokes exequatur of Duplaine, French consul, 159;

insulted by Genet, 159, 160;

refuses to deny Jay's card, 160;

upheld by popular feeling, 160;

his annoyance at the episode, 160;

obliged to teach American people self-respect, 162, 163;

deals with troubles incited by Genet in the West, 162, 163;

sympathizes with frontiersmen, 163;

comprehends value of Mississippi, 164, 165;

sends a commission to Madrid to negotiate about free navigation, 166;

later sends Thomas Pinckney, 166;

despairs of success, 166;

apparent conflict between French treaties and neutrality, 169, 170;

value of Washington's policy to England, 171;

in spite of England's attitude, intends to keep peace, 177;

wishes to send Hamilton as envoy, 177;

after his refusal appoints Jay, 177;

fears that England intends war, 178;

determines to be prepared, 178;

urges upon Jay the absolute necessity of England's giving up Western posts, 179;

dissatisfied with Jay treaty but willing to sign it, 184;

in doubt as to meaning of conditional ratification, 184;

protests against English "provision order" and refuses signature, 185;

meets uproar against treaty alone, 188;

determines to sign, 189;

answers resolutions of Boston town meeting, 190;

refuses to abandon his judgment to popular outcry, 190;

distinguishes temporary from permanent feeling, 191;

fears effect of excitement upon French government, 192;

his view of dangers of situation, 193, 194;

recalled to Philadelphia by cabinet, 195;

receives intercepted correspondence of Fauchet, 195, 196;

his course of action already determined, 197, 198;

not influenced by the Fauchet letter, 198;

evidence of this, 199, 200;

reasons for ratifying before showing letter to Randolph, 199, 200;

signs treaty, 201;

evidence that he did not sacrifice Randolph, 201, 202;

fairness of his action, 203;

refuses to reply to Randolph's attack, 204;

reasons for signing treaty, 205;

justified in course of time, 206;

refuses on constitutional grounds the call of representatives for documents, 208;

insists on independence of treaty-making by executive and Senate, 209;

overcomes hostile majority in House, 210;

wishes Madison to succeed Morris at Paris, 211;

appoints Monroe, 216;

his mistake in not appointing a political supporter, 212;

disgusted at Monroe's behavior, 213, 214;

recalls Monroe and appoints C.C. Pinckney, 214;

angered at French policy, 214;

his contempt for Monroe's self-justification, 215, 216;

review of foreign policy, 216-219;

his guiding principle national independence, 216;

and abstention from European politics, 217;

desires peace and time for growth, 217, 218;

wishes development of the West, 218, 219;

wisdom of his policy, 219;

considers parties dangerous, 220;

but chooses cabinet from Federalists, 220;

prepared to undergo criticism, 221;

willingness to bear it, 221;

desires to learn public feeling, by travels, 221, 222;

feels that body of people will support national government, 222;

sees and deplores sectional feelings in the South, 222, 223;

objects to utterances of newspapers, 223;

attacked by "National Gazette," 227;

receives attacks on Hamilton from Jefferson and his friends, 228, 229;

sends charges to Hamilton, 229;

made anxious by signs of party division, 229;

urges both Hamilton and Jefferson to cease quarrel, 230, 231;

dreads an open division in cabinet, 232;

desirous to rule without party, 233;

accomplishes feat of keeping both secretaries in cabinet, 233;

keeps confidence in Hamilton, 234;

urged by all parties to accept presidency again, 235;

willing to be reelected, 235;

pleased at unanimous vote, 235;

his early immunity from attacks, 237;

later attacked by Freneau and Bache, 238;

regards opposition as dangerous to country, 239;

asserts his intention to disregard them, 240;

his success in Genet affair, 241;

disgusted at "democratic" societies, 242;

thinks they fomented Whiskey Rebellion, 242;

denounces them to Congress, 243;

effect of his remarks, 244;

accused of tyranny after Jay treaty, 244;

of embezzlement, 245;

of aristocracy, 245;

realizes that he must compose cabinet of sympathizers, 246;

reconstructs it, 246;

states determination to govern by party, 247;

slighted by House, 247;

refuses a third term, 248;

publishes Farewell Address, 248;

his justification for so doing, 248;

his wise advice, 249;

address Attacked by Democrats, 250, 251;

assailed in Congress by Giles, 251;

resents charge of being a British sympathizer, 252;

his scrupulously fair conduct toward France, 253;

his resentment at English policy, 254;

his retirement celebrated by the opposition, 255;

remarks of the "Aurora," 256;

forged letters of British circulated, 257;

he repudiates them, 257;

his view of opposition, 259.

In Retirement.

Regards Adams's administration as continuation of his own, 259;

understands Jefferson's attitude, 259;

wishes generals of provisional army to be Federalist, 260;

doubts fidelity of opposition as soldiers, 260;

dreads their poisoning mind of army, 261;

his condemnation of Democrats, 261, 262;

snubs Dr. Logan for assuming an unofficial mission to France, 263-265;

alarmed at Virginia and Kentucky resolutions, 266;

urges Henry to oppose Virginia resolutions, 267;

condemns the French party as unpatriotic, 267;

refuses request to stand again for presidency, 269;

comments on partisanship of Democrats, 269;

believes that he would be no better candidate than any other Federalist, 270, 271;

error of statement that Washington was not a party man, 271, 272;

slow to relinquish non-partisan position, 272;

not the man to shrink from declaring his position, 273;

becomes a member of Federalist party, 273, 274;

eager for end of term of office, 275;

his farewell dinner, 275;

at Adams's inauguration, 276;

popular enthusiasm at Philadelphia, 276;

at Baltimore, 277;

returns to Mt. Vernon, 279;

describes his farm life, 278, 279;

burdened by necessities of hospitality, 280;

account of his meeting with Bernard, 281-283;

continued interest in politics, 284;

accepts command of provisional army, 285;

selects Hamilton, Pinckney, and Knox as major-generals, 286;

surprised at Adams's objection to Hamilton, 286;

rebukes Adams for altering order of rank of generals, 286, 287;

not influenced by intrigue, 287;

annoyed by Adams's conduct, 288;

tries to soothe Knox's irritation, 289;

fails to pacify him, 289;

carries out organization of army, 290;

does not expect actual war, 291;

disapproves of Gerry's conduct, 292;

disapproves of Adams's nomination of Vans Murray, 292;

his dread of French Revolution, 295;

distrusts Adams's attempts at peace, 296;

approves Alien and Sedition laws, 296;

his defense of them, 297;

distressed by dissensions among Federalists, 298;

predicts their defeat, 298;

his sudden illness, 299-302;

death, 303.

Character.

misunderstood, 304;

extravagantly praised, 304;

disliked on account of being called faultless, 305;

bitterly attacked in lifetime, 306;

sneered at by Jefferson, 306;

by Pickering, 307;

called an Englishman, not an American, 307, 308;

difference of his type from that of Lincoln, 310;

none the less American, 311, 312;

compared with Hampden, 312;

his manners those of the times elsewhere in America, 314;

aristocratic, but of a non-English type, 314-316;

less affected by Southern limitations than his neighbors, 316;

early dislike of New England changed to respect, 316, 317;

friendly with people of humble origin, 317, 318;

never an enemy of democracy, 318;

but opposes French excesses, 318;

his self-directed and American training, 319, 320;

early conception of a nation, 321;

works toward national government during Revolution, 321;

his interest in Western expansion, 321, 322;

national character of his Indian policy, 322;

of his desire to secure free Mississippi navigation, 322;

of his opposition to war as a danger to Union, 323;

his anger at accusation of foreign subservience, 323;

continually asserts necessity for independent American policy, 324, 325;

opposes foreign educational influences, 325, 326;

favors foundation of a national university, 326;

breadth and strength of his national feeling, 327;

absence of boastfulness about country, 328;

faith in it, 328;

charge that he was merely a figure-head, 329;

its injustice, 330;

charged with commonplaceness of intellect, 330;

incident of the deathbed explained, 330, 331;

falsity of the charge, 331;

inability of mere moral qualities to achieve what he did, 331;

charged with dullness and coldness, 332;

his seriousness, 333;

responsibility from early youth, 333;

his habits of keen observation, 333;

power of judging men, 334;

ability to use them for what they were worth, 335;

anecdote of advice to Hamilton and Meade, 335;

deceived only by Arnold, 336;

imperfect education, 337;

continual efforts to improve it, 337, 338;

modest regarding his literary ability, 339, 340;

interested in education, 339;

character of his writing, 340;

tastes in reading, 341;

modest but effective in conversation, 342;

his manner and interest described by Bernard, 343-347;

attractiveness of the picture, 347, 348;

his pleasure in society, 348;

power of paying compliments, letter to Mrs. Stockton, 349;

to Charles Thompson, 350;

to De Chastellux, 351;

his warmth of heart, 352;

extreme exactness in pecuniary matters, 352;

illustrative anecdotes, 353,354;

favorable opinion of teller of anecdotes, 356;

stern towards dishonesty or cowardice, 357;

treatment of André and Asgill, 357, 358;

sensitive to human suffering, 357, 358;

kind and courteous to poor, 359;

conversation with Cleaveland, 359;

sense of dignity in public office, 360;

hospitality at Mt. Vernon, 360, 361;

his intimate friendships, 361,362;

relations with Hamilton, Knox, Mason, Henry Lee, Craik, 362, 363;

the officers of the army, 363;

Trumbull, Robert and Gouverneur Morris, 363;

regard for and courtesy toward Franklin, 364;

love for Lafayette, 365;

care for his family, 366;

lasting regard for Fairfaxes, 366, 367;

kindness to Taft family, 367, 368;

destroys correspondence with his wife, 368;

their devoted relationship, 368;

care for his step-children and relatives, 369, 370;

charged with lack of humor, 371;

but never made himself ridiculous, 372;

not joyous in temperament, 372;

but had keen pleasure in sport, 373;

enjoyed a joke, even during Revolution, 374;

appreciates wit, 375;

writes a humorous letter, 376-378;

not devoid of worldly wisdom, 378, 379;

enjoys cards, dancing, the theatre, 380;

loves horses, 380;

thorough in small affairs as well as great, 381;

controversy over site of church, 381;

his careful domestic economy, 382;

love of method, 383;

of excellence in dress and furniture, 383, 384;

gives dignity to American cause, 385;

his personal appearance, 385;

statements of Houdon, 386;

of Ackerson, 386, 387;

his tremendous muscular strength, 388;

great personal impressiveness, 389, 390;

lacking in imagination, 391;

strong passions, 391;

fierce temper, 392;

anecdotes of outbreaks, 392;

his absence of self-love, 393;

confident in judgment of posterity, 393;

religious faith, 394;

summary and conclusion, 394, 395.

Characteristics of.

General view, ii. 304-395;

general admiration for, i. 1-7;

myths about, i. 9-12, ii. 307 ff.;

comparisons with Jefferson, ii. 69;

with Lincoln, ii. 310-312;

with Hampden, ii. 312, 313;

absence of self-seeking, i. 341;

affectionateness, i. 111, 285,331,345, ii. 332, 362-371;

agreeableness, ii. 344-347, 377;

Americanism, ii. 307-328;

aristocratic habits, ii. 314, 316;

business ability, i. 105, 109, ii. 5, 352, 382;

coldness on occasion, i. 223, 224, 263, ii. 318;

courage, i. 77, 78, 86, 127, 168, 292;

dignity, i. 81,161, ii. 52-57, 76;

hospitality, ii. 360;

impressiveness, i. 56, 83, 130, 138, 319, ii. 385;

indomitableness, i. 177, 181, 227;

judgments of men, i. 295, ii. 64, 86, 334, 335;

justice and sternness, i. 287, 330, ii. 203, 352-358, 389;

kindliness, ii. 349-356, 359;

lack of education, i. 62, ii. 337;

love of reading, i. 62, ii. 341, 342;

love of sport, i. 56, 98, 113-116, 118, ii. 380;

manners, ii. 282-283, 314;

military ability, i. 154, 166, 174, 183, 197, 204, 207, 239, 247, 265, 267, 305-320, ii. 331;

modesty, i. 102, 134;

not a figure-head, ii. 329, 330;

not a prig, i. 10-12, 41-47;

not cold and inhuman, ii. 332, 342;

not dull or commonplace, ii. 330, 332;

not superhuman and distant, i. 9, 10, 12, ii. 304, 305;

open-mindedness, ii. 317;

passionateness, i. 58, 73, 90;

personal appearance, i. 57, 136, 137, ii. 282, 343, 385-389;

religious views, i. 321, ii. 393;

romantic traits, i. 95-97;

sense of humor, ii. 371-377;

silence regarding self, i. 14, 69, 70, 116, 129, 285; ii. 37, 336;

simplicity, i. 59, 69, 348; ii. 50, 340;

sobriety, i. 49, 52, 134; ii. 43, 45, 333, 373;

tact, i. 162, 243, 244-246;

temper, i. 73, 92, 110, 168, 236, 237, 260; ii. 98, 392;

thoroughness, i. 112, 323, 341, ii. 381.

Political Opinions.

On Alien and Sedition Acts, ii. 196;

American nationality, i. 191, 250, 251, 255, 262, 279, ii. 7, 61, 133, 145, 324, 325, 327, 328;

Articles of Confederation, i. 297, ii. 17, 24;

bank, ii. 110, 111;

colonial rights, i. 120, 124-126, 130;

Constitution, i. 38-41;

democracy, ii. 317-319;

Democratic party, ii. 214, 239, 240, 258, 261, 267, 268;

disunion, ii. 22;

duties of the executive, ii. 190;

education, ii. 81, 326, 330;

Federalist party, ii. 71, 246, 247, 259, 260, 261, 269-274, 298;

finance, ii. 107, 108, 112, 122;

foreign relations, ii. 25, 134, 142, 145, 147, 179, 217-219, 323;

French Revolution, ii. 139, 140, 295, 318;

independence of colonies, i. 131, 159, 160;

Indian policy, ii. 82, 87, 88, 91, 92, 104, 105;

Jay treaty, ii. 184-205;

judiciary, i. 150;

nominations to office, ii. 62;

party, ii. 70, 222, 233, 249;

protection, ii. 116-122;

slavery, i. 106-108;

Stamp Act, i. 119;

strong government, i. 298, ii. 18, 24, 129, 130;

treaty power, ii. 190, 207-210;

Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions, ii. 266, 267;

Western expansion, ii. 6, 8-16, 135, 163-165, 218, 322.

Washington, George Steptoe,

his sons educated by Washington, ii. 370.

Washington, John, brother of George,

letter of Washington, to, i. 132.

Washington, Lawrence, brother of George Washington,

educated in England, i. 54;

has military career, 54;

returns to Virginia and builds Mt. Vernon, 54;

marries into Fairfax family, 54, 55;

goes to West Indies for his health, 62;

dies, leaving George guardian of his daughter, 64;

chief manager of Ohio Company, 65;

gives George military education, 65.

Washington, Lund,

letter of Washington to, i. 152;

rebuked by Washington for entertaining British, ii. 303.

Washington, Martha, widow of Daniel P. Custis,

meets Washington, i. 101;

courtship of, and marriage, 101, 102;

hunts with her husband, 114;

joins him at Boston, 151;

holds levees as wife of President, ii. 54;

during his last illness, 300;

her correspondence destroyed, 368;

her relations with her husband, 368, 369.

Washington, Mary,

married to Augustine Washington, i. 39;

mother of George Washington, 39;

limited education but strong character, 40, 41;

wishes George to earn a living, 49;

opposes his going to sea, 49;

letters to, 88;

visited by her son, ii. 5.

Waters, Henry E.,

establishes Washington pedigree, i. 32.

Wayne, Anthony,

defeated after Brandywine, i. 198;

his opinion of Germantown, 199;

at Monmouth urges Washington to come, 235;

ready to attack Stony Point, 268;

his successful exploit, 269;

joins Lafayette in Virginia, 307;

appointed to command against Indians, ii. 100;

his character, 100;

organizes his force, 101;

his march, 102;

defeats the Indians, 103.

Weems, Mason L.,

influence of his life of Washington on popular opinion, i. 10;

originates idea of his priggishness, 11;

his character, 41, 43;

character of his book, 42;

his mythical "rectorate" of Mt. Vernon, 43, 44;

invents anecdotes of Washington's childhood, 44;

folly of cherry-tree and other stories, 46;

their evil influence, 47.

West, the,

its importance realized by Washington, ii. 7-16;

his influence counteracted by inertia of Congress, 8;

forwards inland navigation, 9;

desires to bind East to West, 9-11, 14;

formation of companies, 11-13;

on Mississippi navigation, 14-16, 164;

projects of Genet in, 162;

its attitude understood by Washington, 163, 164;

Washington wishes peace in order to develop it, 218, 219, 321.

"Whiskey Rebellion,"

passage of excise law, ii. 123;

outbreaks of violence in Pennsylvania and North Carolina, 124;

proclamation issued warning rioters to desist, 125;

renewed outbreaks in Pennsylvania, 125, 126;

the militia called out, 127;

suppression of the insurrection, 128;

real danger of movement, 129;

its suppression emphasizes national authority, 129, 130;

supposed by Washington to have been stirred up by Democratic clubs, 242.

White Plains,

battle at, i. 173.

Wilkinson, James,

brings Gates's message to Washington at Trenton, i. 180;

brings news of Saratoga to Congress, 220;

nettled at Sherman's sarcasm, discloses Conway cabal, 220;

quarrels with Gates, 223;

resigns from board of war, 223, 226;

leads expedition against Indians, ii. 95.

Willett, Colonel,

commissioner to Creeks, his success, ii. 91.

William and Mary College,

Washington Chancellor of, ii. 339.

Williams,

Washington's teacher, i. 48, 51.

Willis, Lewis,

story of Washington's school days, i. 95.

Wilson, James,

appointed to Supreme Court, ii. 72.

Wilson, James, "of England,"

hunts with Washington, i. 115.

Wolcott, Oliver,

receives Fauchet letter, ii. 195;

succeeds Hamilton as Secretary of Treasury, 246.

Wooster, Mrs.,

letter of Washington to, ii. 61.

YORKTOWN,

siege of, i. 315-318.

"Young Man's Companion,"

used by George Washington, origin of his rules of conduct, i. 52.