Life and Times of Washington, Volume 2 / Revised, Enlarged, and Enriched

by John Frederick Schroeder; Benson John Lossing

For several months after arriving at Mount Vernon, almost every day brought him the addresses of an affectionate and grateful people. The glow of expression in which the high sense universally entertained of his services was conveyed, manifested the warmth of feeling which animated the American bosom. This unexampled tribute of voluntary applause, paid by a whole people to an individual no longer in power, made no impression on the unassuming modesty of his character and deportment. The same firmness of mind, the same steady and well-tempered judgment, which had guided him through the most perilous seasons of the war, still regulated his conduct, and the enthusiastic applauses of an admiring nation served only to cherish sentiments of gratitude and to give greater activity to the desire still further to contribute to the general prosperity.

Soon after peace was proclaimed Congress unanimously passed a resolution for the erection of an equestrian statue of Washington, at the place which should be established for the residence of the government.

The Legislature of Virginia, too, at its first session after his resignation, passed the following resolution:

"Resolved, That the Executive be requested to take measures for procuring a statue of General Washington, to be of the finest marble and best workmanship, with the following inscription on its pedestal:

"The General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Virginia have caused this statue to be erected as a monument of affection and gratitude to George Washington, who, uniting to the endowments of the hero, the virtues of the patriot, and exerting both in establishing the liberties of his country, has rendered his name dear to his fellow-citizens, and given the world an immortal example of true glory." {5}

In addition to the attention which he bestowed on his own estate Washington endeavored to ameliorate the condition of agriculture generally. Nothing could be more wretched than the general state of this useful art in America. To its amelioration by examples which might be followed, and by the introduction of systems adapted to the soil, the climate, and to the wants of the people, the energies of his active and intelligent mind were now in a great degree directed. No improvement of the implements to be used on a farm, no valuable experiments in husbandry, escaped his attention. His inquiries, which were equally minute and comprehensive, extended beyond the limits of his own country, and he entered into a correspondence on this interesting subject with Arthur Young, the celebrated English writer, and with other foreigners who had been most distinguished for their additions to the stock of agricultural science.

Mingled with this favorite pursuit were the multiplied avocations resulting from the high office he had lately filled. He was engaged in an extensive correspondence with the friends most dear to his heart—the foreign and American officers who had served under him during the late war—and with almost every conspicuous political personage of his own, and with many of other countries. Literary men also were desirous of obtaining his approbation of their works, and his attention was solicited to every production of American genius. His countrymen who were about to travel were anxious to receive from the first citizen of the rising Republic, some testimonial bearing his signature, and all those strangers of distinction, who visited this newly-created empire, were ambitious of being presented to its founder. In addition to visitors of distinction, and those who had claims of ancient friendship, he was subjected to the annoyance of visitors, who, without any just pretension to such an honor, made visits to Mount Vernon merely to gratify their curiosity, and to the scarcely less wearisome annoyance of tedious and unnecessary letters. Of these unwelcome intrusions upon his time Washington thus complained to an intimate military friend. "It is not, my dear sir, the letters of my friends which give me trouble or add aught to my perplexity. I receive them with pleasure, and pay as much attention to them as my avocations will permit. It is references to old matters with which I have nothing to do—applications which oftentimes cannot be complied with—inquiries, to satisfy which would employ the pen of an historian—letters of compliment, as unmeaning perhaps as they are troublesome, but which must be attended to—and the common-place business—which employ my pen and my time often disagreeably. Indeed these, with company, deprive me of exercise, and, unless I can obtain relief, must be productive of disagreeable consequences. Already I begin to feel their effects. Heavy and painful oppressions of the head and other disagreeable sensations often trouble me. I am determined therefore to employ some person who shall ease me of the drudgery of this business. At any rate, if the whole of it is thereby suspended, I am determined to use exercise. My private affairs also require infinitely more attention than I have given or can give them under present circumstances. They can no longer be neglected without involving my ruin."

It was some time after the date of this letter before he introduced into his family a young gentleman, qualified by education and manners to fill the station of private secretary and friend. This was Mr. Tobias Lear of New Hampshire, who had graduated at Harvard college.

The numerous visits which Washington received made Mount Vernon anything but a place of seclusion and repose, and "during these stirring times Mrs. Washington performed the duties of a Virginia housewife and presided at her well-spread board with that ease and elegance of manners which always distinguished her." {2}

This multiplicity of private avocations could not entirely withdraw the mind of Washington from objects tending to promote and secure the public happiness. His resolution never again to appear in the busy scenes of political life, though believed by himself and by his bosom friends to be unalterable, could not render him indifferent to those measures on which the prosperity of his country essentially depended.