1798

Washington relished neither the interference of the suitor with his nephew's “current of true love,” nor the volunteer opinion of Nelly's brother; and he abruptly closed the correspondence on the subject with young Custis, by saying: “Young Mr. C—— came here about a fortnight ago, to dinner, and left us next morning after breakfast. If his object was such as you say has been reported, it was not declared here; and therefore the less is said upon the subject, particularly by your sister's friends, the more prudent it will be until the subject develops itself more.”

Other suitors appeared at that time, and the assaults made upon the young lady's heart seem to have given Washington and his wife much anxiety. “I was young and romantic then,” she said to a lady, from whose lips Mr. Irving has quoted[124]—“I was young and romantic then, and fond of wandering alone by moonlight in the woods of Mount Vernon. Grandmamma thought it wrong and unsafe, and scolded and coaxed me into a promise that I would not wander in the woods again unaccompanied. But I was missing one evening, and was brought home from the interdicted woods to the drawing-room, where the general was walking up and down with his hands behind him, as was his wont. Grandmamma, seated in her great arm-chair, opened a severe reproof.”

“Poor Miss Nelly,” says Mr. Irving, “was reminded of her promise, and taxed with her delinquency. She knew that she had done wrong, admitted her fault, and essayed no excuse; but, when there was a slight pause, moved to retire from the room. She was just shutting the door, when she overheard the general attempting, in a low voice, to intercede in her behalf. 'My dear,' observed he, 'I would say no more: perhaps she was not alone.'

“His intercession stopped Miss Nelly in her retreat. She reopened the door, and advanced up to the general with a firm step. 'Sir,' said she, 'you brought me up to speak the truth; and when I told grandmamma I was alone, I hope you believed I was alone.'

“The general made one of his most magnanimous bows. 'My child,' replied he, 'I beg your pardon.'”

As we shall observe presently, Lawrence Lewis triumphed in his suit over all competitors, and the beautiful Nelly Custis became his bride.

Without the least suspicion that his sweet dream of repose in the bosom of his family, amid the quiet scenes of rural life, would ever be disturbed while he lived, Washington now applied himself to the repairs of his buildings, and the general improvement of his estate. “At the age of sixty-five,” he wrote to the earl of Radnor, “I am now recommencing my agricultural and rural pursuits, which were always more congenial to my temper and disposition than the noise and bustle of public employments; notwithstanding so small a portion of my life has been engaged in the former.”

To the Reverend William Gordon he wrote: “Rural employments, while I am spared—which, in the natural course of things, can not be long—will now take the place of toil, responsibility, and the solicitude attending the walks of public life; and with a desire for the peace, happiness, and prosperity of a country, in whose service the prime of my life has been spent, and with best wishes for the tranquillity of all nations and all men, the scene to me will close—grateful to that Providence which has directed my steps, and shielded me in the various changes and chances through which I have passed from my youth to the present moment.”

And now, too, the associations of his earlier life, when he was a farmer at Mount Vernon, brought pleasing pictures of the past to his memory, and he seemed to yearn for a renewal of those social pleasures which had been the delight of his young manhood. To Mrs. Fairfax, in England, who had resided at ruined Belvoir, and had been a beloved member of the society of that neighborhood, he wrote, in May, 1798:—