Washington and the American Republic, Vol. 3.

by Benson John Lossing

The disposition throughout the country to avoid war if possible, had great influence upon the president and the senate; but, before the latter made a decision on the nomination of Mr. Murray, the whole subject was seriously considered. It was finally concluded to associate two others with Murray. The president accordingly nominated Oliver Wolcott and Patrick Henry. These nominations were immediately confirmed by the unanimous vote of the senate. The latter gentleman declined the commission, on account of his advanced age and increasing debilities, but with the assurance that “nothing short of absolute necessity” could induce him to withhold what little aid he could give “an administration whose abilities, patriotism, and virtue, deserved the gratitude and reverence of all their fellow citizens.” Governor William R. Davie, of North Carolina, was appointed in Henry's place; and Mr. Murray, still at the Hague, was instructed to apprize Talleyrand of the appointments, but to inform him that the envoys would not embark until the Directory should give assurances that they would be received with courtesy due to their rank, and treated with on terms of perfect equality. He was also instructed not to have any further informal communications with agents of the French republic.

It was October before the president received assurances of the proper reception of the envoys, and they did not leave for France until November. Meanwhile, although war between the two nations had not been formally declared, it actually existed upon the ocean. Hostile collisions had taken place between vessels belonging to the two governments; and upward of three hundred private American vessels had been armed for self-defence.

From the beginning, some of the best friends of Mr. Adams had deprecated the new mission to France. The nominations had been made by the president without consulting his cabinet; and both Pickering, the secretary of state, and M'Henry, the secretary of war, lamented the occurrence, not only because it was undignified, but because it was likely to complicate the already perplexing relations with the French. They remonstrated, but the president refused to listen. Hamilton, Gouverneur Morris, and other supporters of the administration, were equally opposed to the measure, but the president paid little heed to their opinions. This produced a feud between the president and his cabinet, which made Washington uneasy, for the times were too ominous of mischief to the government to make such feud otherwise than perilous in a degree to the commonwealth. “I have, some time past,” wrote Washington to Pickering late in November, just after the departure of the envoys, “viewed the political concerns of the United States with an anxious and painful eye. They appear to me to be moving by hasty strides to a crisis; but in what it will result, that Being, who sees, foresees, and directs all things, alone can tell. The vessel is afloat, or very nearly so, and, considering myself as a passenger only, I shall trust to the mariners (whose duty it is to watch) to steer it into safe port.”

Fortunately for all parties concerned, when the American envoys reached France, a change in the French government had taken place. Napoleon Bonaparte was at the head of the civil and military affairs of the nation, with the title of First Consul. The weak Directory had yielded to the increasing powers of that wonderful man, and his energy and audacity had rescued France from impending anarchy and ruin. He promptly received the United States embassadors; and, several months afterward, he concluded a treaty with them, and gave them such assurances of friendship, that, on their return home, the provisional army was disbanded. The commander-in-chief, meanwhile, had been laid in the grave. Washington did not live to see the clouds break and disperse according to the prophecies of his faith.

We have anticipated events, in order that a glimpse might be given of the conclusion of the difficulties with France. Let us now turn back to the beginning of 1799, and consider Washington personally during that last year of his life. To his family it opened with joy, and closed in sorrow.

At the beginning of the year, there were preparations in progress at Mount Vernon for an event which gave pleasure to Washington—the marriage of Lawrence Lewis, his favorite nephew, with Nelly Custis, his adopted daughter, of whose mutual attachment we have already spoken. At the same time, Washington was much perplexed concerning Nelly's brother George, who was then a youth of eighteen, talented but wayward. He had been in college for a few years, first at Princeton and then at Annapolis; and now, on account of his unwillingness to return to the latter place, he had been for some time pursuing his studies at home, under the eye of his foster father, but with indifferent success. The correspondence between them, for several years, to which allusion has already been made, reveals the anxiety with which Washington watched the development of his foster-son—sometimes hoping, sometimes almost despairing, yet always kind, though firm.[130]

Nelly Custis was married at Mount Vernon on Friday, the twenty-second of February, 1799, Washington's birthday. It was a bright and beautiful day. “The early spring flowers were budding in the hedges, and the blue-bird, making its way cautiously northward, gave a few joyous notes in the garden that morning. The occasion was one of great hilarity at Mount Vernon, for the bride was beloved by all; and Major Lewis, the bridegroom, had ever been near to the heart of his uncle, since the death of his mother, who so much resembled her illustrious brother, that when, in sport, she would place a chapeau on her head, and throw a military cloak over her shoulders, she might easily have been mistaken for the chief.”[131]

It was the wish of Nelly that her foster-father should wear, on that occasion, the splendidly-embroidered uniform which the board of general officers had adopted as the costume of the commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States, but he could not be persuaded to wear a suit bedizened with tinsel. He preferred the plain old continental blue and buff, and the modest, black-ribbon cockade. Magnificent white plumes, which General Pinckney had presented to him, he gave to the bride; and to the Reverend Thomas Davis, rector of Christ church, Alexandria, who performed the marriage ceremony, he presented an elegant copy of Mrs. Macaulay's History of England, in eight octavo volumes, saying, when he handed them to him: “These, sir, were written by a remarkable lady, who visited America many years ago; and here is also her treatise on the Immutability of Moral Truth, which she sent me just before her death. Read it, and return it to me.”

With characteristic modesty, Washington made no allusion to the fact that Mrs. Macaulay (Catharine Macaulay Graham) crossed the Atlantic, in the spring of 1785, for no other purpose, as she avowed, than to see the great leader of the American armies, whom she revered as a second Moses.[132]

During the spring, Washington made preparations for changes and improvements in his estate. He appeared at times to feel that the end of his earthly pilgrimage was near. In a letter written to Mr. M'Henry in March, after alluding to the inconvenience of leaving home, on public business, on account of the demands upon his attention by his private affairs, he said: “This is not all, nor the worst; for, being the executor, the administrator, and trustee, for others' estates, my greatest anxiety is to leave all these concerns in such a clear and distinct form, that no reproach may attach itself to me when I shall have taken my departure for the land of spirits.”