Over and over among these men—Washington, Mason, Henry, the Lees, Jefferson and every Virginia gentleman of that section, George Weedon heard discussion of the Colonies’ problems, and he forcibly gave vent to his opinions.
Time and again he expressed the idea of freedom before others had thought of more than protest. His wild Irish talk in the old Rising Sun Tavern helped to light the torch of liberty in America.
When war came, Weedon was elected Lieutenant-Colonel of the First Virginia, of which Hugh Mercer was chosen Colonel. August 17, 1776, he became its Colonel, and on February 24, 1777, he was made a Brigadier-General.
In the Battle of Brandywine, General Weedon’s division rendered conspicuous service, when they checked the pursuit of the British and saved our army from rout. He commanded brilliantly at Germantown. Wherever he fought, his great figure and stentorian voice were prominent in the conflict.
He admired Washington and his fellow-generals. It was not because of these, but because he thought Congress to have treated him unfairly about rank, that he left the Army at Valley Forge. He re-entered in 1780, and in 1781 was given command of the Virginia troops, which he held until the surrender of Yorktown, where he played an important part.
George Weedon was the first President of the Virginia Society of the Cincinnati, a fraternity of Revolutionary officers which General Washington helped to organize, and this was, indeed, a singular honor. He was a member of the Fredericksburg Masonic Lodge, of which Washington was also a member. After the war, he lived at “The Sentry Box,” the former home of his gallant brother-in-law, General Mercer.
A Song For the Yuletide
General Weedon was a man of exuberant spirits, loud of voice and full of Irish humor. He wrote a song called “Christmas Day in ’76,” and on each Yuletide he assembled at his board his old comrades and friends, and, while two negro boys stood sentinel at the door, drank punch and roared out the verses:
“On Christmas Day in ’76
Our ragged troops with bayonets fixed,
For Trenton marched away.
The Delaware ice, the boats below
The lights obscured by hail and snow,
But no signs of dismay.”
Beginning thus, the brave Irishman who verbally and fought among the foremost for America for over physically thirty years, told the story of Washington’s crossing the Delaware, vividly enough, and every Christmas his guests stood with him and sang the ballad.[2]