Some time after freedom, commerce, and industry had effaced the bloody traces of the revolutionary war, and rendered calm the great American family of the union, Congress thought justly that as every state required its entire independence, none of them could long be satisfied with the presence of the central government, which itself needed to be so situated as to be free from all local influence. In consequence a small portion of land, situated upon the borders of Maryland and Virginia, was purchased by government, which made it the seat of its operations in 1800. This territory is ten miles square, and is traversed by the river Potomac, and under the name of District of Columbia is subjected to the immediate administration of Congress. The two most considerable cities of the District of Columbia are Georgetown and Alexandria, both much older than the formation of the district. The first is very prettily situated on the declivity of a hill between the Potomac and Rock Creek; its population is about 7,000 souls: it contains a foundery of cannon, of which I shall hereafter speak; but its commerce, although somewhat active, is much less than that of Alexandria, situated much lower down, on the right bank of the Potomac. The population of Alexandria amounts to 8,000 souls, and its exports, consisting principally of flour, annually amount to nearly 9,000,000 dollars. As to Washington city, it is upon too vast a scale to derive the aspect of a city from its 13,000 inhabitants. But for its public buildings, one might take it for an infant colony struggling against difficulties. In some parts of it, a quarter of an hour is necessary to walk from one dwelling to the next, and it is not rare to see on the way a plough heavily tracing a furrow which will probably bear harvests for another half century, instead of buildings. The projected streets are all large, straight, and parallel to each other, but the greatest error committed in tracing them was that of not preserving a row of trees on each side which would have better marked their direction, and have offered a shelter from the heat of the sun. The most beautiful building in Washington, beyond doubt, is the capitol. It contains two spacious and well arranged halls for the senate and house of representatives; another for the supreme court of the United States, and a third for the national library. The capitol was burned by the English in 1814, who behaved like Vandals when they took Washington; but it has risen from its ashes, more vast and splendid. The workmen were still engaged upon the capitol when I visited it. The navy yard, situated at a short distance from the capitol, is one of the richest and most beautiful establishments of this kind. All the works in wood and iron are effected by steam machinery. I saw there several large frigates building. The armoury appeared to be amply supplied. I was shown some repeating guns for defending entrenchments, consisting of several barrels, connected with one lock, firing fifty successive shots without being re-loaded. Commodore Tingey, who commanded the navy yard, and did the honours with most laudable politeness, promised to show me one of these guns in operation, but not having time to witness it, I could not judge of its usefulness, which some American officers boast much of. In the centre of the principal court-yard, a rostral column is erected in honour of the Americans who fell before Tripoli. It is of white marble, and was surrounded with allegoric figures, skilfully executed; but in 1814, the British, basely jealous of all foreign glory, endeavoured to destroy it; it still bears numerous marks of sabre cuts with which it was struck in brutal rage. The Americans have effaced none of them, and have scarce complained against this act of Vandalism; but they have carved in large letters, on the base of the monument, this severe sentence, “Mutilated by the British in 1814.”
Next to the capitol, the most remarkable building is the mansion of the president. The four large buildings which surround it, and are occupied by the departments of state, are commodiously and solidly built, but are by no means remarkable for their architecture. The town house is not yet finished, and is so little advanced, that one can form no idea of its effect as a public building. As to the theatre, it is a trifling little house, in which three or four hundred spectators can hardly venture without danger of suffocation.
Columbian college, founded but a short time since, at present contains but a small number of pupils. The choice of the trustees and president promise a brilliant futurity to the institution, but it has a formidable disadvantage in the proximity of Georgetown college. This institution, which we visited on the morning after our arrival at Washington, and in which general Lafayette was received with great evidences of gratitude and patriotism, is under the direction of the Jesuits. I could not avoid feeling a painful sensation when I saw the reverend fathers in the costume of their order. All the mischief with which the Jesuits are reproached in Europe, presented themselves in a crowd to my alarmed imagination, and I deplored the blindness of the Americans who confide the education of their children to a sect so inimical to liberty. On returning to Washington, I could not avoid mentioning my reflexions and fears to Mr. C——, a senator, with whom I passed the evening. He listened, at first smiling, but when he heard me express the wish that the Jesuits in all countries should not be allowed to interfere in public instruction, he shook his head with an air of disapprobation. “Such a measure,” said he, “will never be adopted in our country, I hope at least; it would, in my opinion, be contrary to the spirit of liberty which animates us, and unjust towards the Jesuits, against whom we have no cause of complaint. Nor do I know of any power in our society which has a right to prescribe such a measure.” “It is possible,” I replied, “that you have nothing to complain of, because they are here few in number, and have not yet attained power; but patience—see what happens in Europe and tremble.” “What happens in Europe can never occur here, so long as we are wise enough to continue our present institutions; so long as we have neither king, state religion, nor monopoly, we have nothing to fear from the intrigues nor the influence of any association. With whom will the Jesuits intrigue here? with the government? the people are the government. I can well conceive how the Jesuits of Europe by force of intrigue possess themselves of the king’s ear, and fill his mind with religious terrors, by the aid of which they gain from him riches, honour, power, &c.; but really do you believe that with all the trick and address that you attribute to them, that your Jesuits will ever be able to persuade a whole free and enlightened nation to plunder themselves on their account, and to deliver themselves up shackled hand and foot? Never. And in what way are they to accomplish this? By public instruction? In order that this instruction should be an efficacious instrument, they must have a monopoly of it; but thanks to our institutions we have no monopolies of any kind. We do not groan as you do in Europe under the yoke of a privileged university. Here every parent is the sole judge of the manner in which his children shall be instructed and educated. Hence the concurrence among all those who wish to devote themselves to the exercise of public instruction, a concurrence which is only supported by a sincere attachment to our institutions, a profound respect for the laws which are our work, and the practice of all the virtues which make a good citizen. The Jesuits themselves are obliged to fulfil these conditions in order to obtain public confidence, and they do obtain it; so long as they continue to deserve it, I see no pretext for depriving them of a right common to all, and should they ever become unworthy of confidence, public opinion will render them justice.” “Alas!” continued I, “public opinion can do them justice with us also, but can neither drive them from the councils of the prince, nor from the university, nor the rich establishments they have founded, nor the offices they have secured.” “Then,” coolly replied the senator, “have none of these things, and your Jesuits will be as harmless as ours.”
CHAPTER XIII.
Departure for Yorktown: Washington’s tomb: Celebration of the anniversary of the surrender of Yorktown: Details of its siege in 1781.
The Virginia militia had long since expressed their desire to general Lafayette, of having him present at the celebration of the anniversary of the capture of Yorktown, on the very soil where this great event occurred, which, in terminating the revolutionary war, forever secured the independence of the United States. To accept this honourable invitation, general Lafayette left Washington the 16th of October, crossed the Potomac upon a wooden bridge nearly a mile long, and was received upon the Virginia side by a corps of troops, under command of general Jones. His march to Alexandria, and his entry into that city, were marked by the continual thunder of artillery, placed along the road, and by the acclamations of the people. We dined and slept at Alexandria. As we were sitting down to table with all the magistrates, and a great number of citizens, Mr. Adams, the secretary of state, informed us of the death of the king of France, Louis the eighteenth.
On the 17th, we embarked in the steam-boat Petersburg, in company with the secretary of war, Mr. Calhoun, generals Macomb, Jones, and a great number of other officers and citizens. After a voyage of two hours, the guns of fort Washington announced that we were approaching the last abode of the father of his country. At this solemn signal, to which the military band accompanying us responded by plaintive strains, we went on deck, and the venerable soil of Mount Vernon was before us; at this view an involuntary and spontaneous movement made us kneel. We landed in boats, and trod upon the ground so often worn by the feet of Washington. A carriage received general Lafayette, and the other visitors silently ascended the precipitous path which conducted to the solitary habitation of Mount Vernon. In re-entering beneath this hospitable roof, which had sheltered him when the reign of terror tore him violently from his country and family, George Lafayette felt his heart sink within him, at no more finding him whose paternal care had softened his misfortunes, whose example and wise counsel inspired his youthful mind with those generous sentiments which at present render him an example of good citizenship, a model to parents and husbands, the most devoted of sons, the most stable of friends. His father again sought with emotion for every thing which reminded him of the companion of his glorious toils.
Three nephews of general Washington took Lafayette, his son, and myself, to conduct us to the tomb of their uncle; our numerous companions remained in the house; in a few minutes after, the cannon of the fort, thundering anew, announced that Lafayette rendered homage to the ashes of Washington. Simple and modest as he was during life, the tomb of the citizen-hero is scarcely perceived amid the sombre cypresses by which it is surrounded: a vault slightly elevated and sodded over, a wooden door without inscriptions, some withered and some green garlands, indicate to the traveller who visits this spot, the place where rest in peace the puissant arms which broke the chains of his country. As we approached, the door was opened; Lafayette descended alone into the vault, and a few minutes after re-appeared, with his eyes overflowing with tears. He took his son and me by the hand, and led us into the tomb, where by a sign he indicated the coffin of his paternal friend, along side of which was that of his companion in life, united to him forever in the grave. We knelt reverentially near his coffin, which we respectfully saluted with our lips; rising, we threw ourselves into the arms of Lafayette, and mingled our tears with his.
In leaving the vault, we were met by the three nephews of Washington: one of them, Mr. Custis, presented general Lafayette with a gold ring, containing some of the hair of the great man, and we returned to the house where our companions awaited us. An hour was devoted to visiting the house and grounds, which at present belong to a nephew of Washington, who bears the same name, and is one of the judges of the supreme court of the United States. He has made no alteration in the property left him by his uncle, for whose memory he entertains the most profound and tender respect. George Lafayette assured us that every thing in the house was as he saw it twenty-eight years ago. He found in the place where Washington himself had left it, the principal key of the bastile, which was sent him by Lafayette, at the time this monument of despotism was destroyed. The note sent with the key is still carefully preserved.
The situation of Mount Vernon, upon the right bank of the Potomac, is very picturesque, and is seen to a great distance from this majestic river. The house is small, very plain, and surrounded by fine trees. The tomb is about two hundred paces from the house.