Reared as she had been, a descendant of the chivalry of Virginia, who in their turn were the descendants of the English nobility—aristocratic, proud and pleased with her lofty position—she brought to bear all the brightness of a prosperous existence, and her influence extended to foreign lands.
The levees held at the Republican Court—then located at No. 3 Franklin Square, New York—were numerously attended by the fashionable and refined of the city. The rules of the establishment were rigorous, and persons were excluded unless in the dress required. Access was not easy, and dignified stateliness reigned over the mansion of the first President of the United States. The subjoined letter, written to Mrs. Warren soon after Mrs. Washington’s arrival at the seat of government, will present her views on the subject of her elevation more correctly than could be given otherwise.
“Your very friendly letter of last month has afforded me much more satisfaction than all the formal compliments and empty ceremonies of mere etiquette could possibly have done. I am not apt to forget the feelings which have been inspired by my former society with good acquaintances, nor to be insensible to their expressions of gratitude to the President; for you know me well enough to do me the justice to believe that I am fond only of what comes from the heart. Under a conviction that the demonstrations of respect and affection to him originate in that source, I cannot deny that I have taken some interest and pleasure in them. The difficulties which presented themselves to view upon his first entering upon the Presidency, seem thus to be in some measure surmounted. It is owing to the kindness of our numerous friends in all quarters that my new and unwished-for situation is not a burden to me. When I was much younger, I should probably have enjoyed the innocent gayeties of life as much as most persons of my age; but I had long since placed all prospects of my future worldly happiness in the still enjoyment of the fireside at Mount Vernon. I little thought, when the war was finished, that any circumstances could possibly happen which would call the General into public life again. I had anticipated that from that moment we should be suffered to grow old together in solitude and tranquillity. That was the first and dearest wish of my heart. I will not, however, contemplate with too much regret, disappointments that were inevitable, though his feelings and my own were in perfect unison with respect to our predilection for private life; yet I cannot blame him for having acted according to his ideas of duty in obeying the voice of his country. The consciousness of having attempted to do all the good in his power, and the pleasure of finding his fellow-citizens so well satisfied with the disinterestedness of his conduct, will doubtless be some compensation for the great sacrifices which I know he has made. Indeed, on his journey from Mount Vernon to this place, in his late tour through the Eastern States, by every public and every private information which has come to him, I am persuaded he has experienced nothing to make him repent his having acted from what he conceives to be a sense of indispensable duty. On the contrary, all his sensibility has been awakened in receiving such repeated and unequivocal proofs of sincere regard from his countrymen. With respect to myself, I sometimes think the arrangement is not quite as it ought to have been; that I, who had much rather be at home, should occupy a place with which a great many younger and gayer women would be extremely pleased. As my grandchildren and domestic connections make up a great portion of the felicity which I looked for in this world, I shall hardly be able to find any substitute that will indemnify me for the loss of such endearing society. I do not say this because I feel dissatisfied with my present station, for everybody and everything conspire to make me as contented as possible in it; yet I have learned too much of the vanity of human affairs to expect felicity from the scenes of public life. I am still determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may be; for I have also learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not on our circumstances. We carry the seeds of the one or the other about with us in our minds, wherever we go.”
The second year of Washington’s administration, the seat of government was removed to Philadelphia. Mrs. Washington was sick when she started on the journey, and remained in Philadelphia until she was strong enough to go on to Mount Vernon.
The late Rev. Ashbel Green, for a long time President of Princeton College, and one of the early Chaplains of Congress, in speaking of the seat of government, said: “After a great deal of writing and talking and controversy about the permanent seat of Congress under the present Constitution, it was determined that Philadelphia should be honored with its presence for ten years, and afterward the permanent location should be in the city of Washington, where it now is. In the meantime, the Federal city was in building, and the Legislature of Pennsylvania voted a sum of money to build a house for the President, perhaps with some hope that this might help to keep the seat of the general government in the Capital; for Philadelphia was then considered as the Capital of the State. What was lately the University of Pennsylvania, was the structure erected for the purpose. But as soon as General Washington saw its dimensions, and a good while before it was finished, he let it be known that he would not occupy it, and should certainly not go to the expense of purchasing suitable furniture for such a dwelling; for it is to be understood, in those days of stern republicanism, nobody thought of Congress furnishing the President’s house; or if perchance such a thought did enter into some aristocratic head, it was too unpopular to be uttered. President Washington therefore rented a house of Mr. Robert Morris, in Market street, between Fifth and Sixth, on the south side, and furnished it handsomely but not gorgeously.”
From New York, by weary processes, the household furniture of individuals and government property were moved. General Washington superintended the preparation and embarkation of all his personal effects, deciding the time and manner in which every article was taken or sold, and attending to all with a scrupulous zeal which is surprising when we consider his public position. His letters to Mr. Lear are as characteristic of his private life as was his career as founder of the Republic. On Saturday afternoon, November the 28th, the President and his wife returned from Mount Vernon, and took up their residence in the house of Mr. Morris, which the corporation had obtained for them. They found Congressmen and public characters already assembled, in anticipation of a gay and brilliant season. Mrs. Washington held her drawing-rooms on Friday evening of each week; company assembled early and retired before half-past ten. It is related on one occasion, at a levee held in New York the first year of the administration, that she remarked, as the hands on the clock approached ten, “that her husband retired punctually at ten, and she followed very soon afterward.” A degree of stiffness and formality existed at those receptions that we of this age can scarcely understand, accustomed as we are to the familiarity and freedom of the present-day gatherings; but the imposing dignity of the Executive himself rebuked all attempts at equality, and the novelty of the position itself caused a general awkwardness. Unlike latter-day levees, the lady of the mansion always sat, and the guests were arranged in a circle round which the President passed, speaking kindly to each one. It is to be regretted that no descriptions exist of the appearance of Mrs. Washington at these fête evenings. Little or no attention, outside of social life, was paid to such items as how ladies dressed and what they appeared in, and letter-writing on this subject was not so universal as we of modern times have made it; hence there remains no source from whence to gather these little trifles which form part of every newspaper edition of the present day.
However, we do know that the President always had his hair powdered, and never offered his hand to any one at his public receptions.
“On the national fête days, the commencement of the levee was announced by the firing of a salute from a pair of twelve-pounders stationed not far distant from the Presidential mansion; and the ex-Commander-in-chief paid his former companions in arms the compliment to wear the old Continental uniform.”
The grandchildren of Mrs. Washington were her only companions during the President’s long absences in his office; and Mrs. Robert Morris was the most social visitor at the mansion. Several times mention is made of her presence at the side of Mrs. Washington during the presentations at the receptions. And at all the dinners by the republican Chief Magistrate, the venerable Robert Morris took precedence of every other guest, invariably conducting Mrs. Washington, and sitting at her right hand. At this, the meridian period of her life, Mrs. Washington’s personal appearance was, although somewhat portly in person, fresh and of an agreeable countenance. She had been a handsome woman thirty years before, when, on the 6th of January, 1759, she was married to Colonel Washington; and in an admirable picture of her by Woolaston, painted about the same time, is seen something of that pleasing grace which is said to have been her distinction. During these years of her married life, she had enjoyed ample opportunity to cultivate that elegance of manner for which she was conspicuous, and to develop those conversational powers which rendered her so attractive. Washington, ever quiet and reserved in manner, depended on her; and her tact and gentle womanly politeness relieved him from the irksome duties of hospitality when business called him elsewhere. His first levee, the Marchioness D’Yuro wrote to a friend in New York, was brilliant beyond anything that could be imagined. She adds: You never could have had such a drawing-room; and though there was a great deal of extravagance, there was so much of Philadelphia tact in everything that it must have been confessed the most delightful occasion of the kind ever known in this country.
Mrs. Washington at this time was fifty-eight years old; but her healthful, rational habits, and the ceaseless influence of the principles by which her life was habitually regulated, enabled her still to exhibit undiminished her characteristic activity, usefulness, and cheerfulness. From the “Recollections” of a daughter of Mrs. Binney, who resided opposite the President’s house, we have some interesting accounts. She says: “It was the General’s custom frequently, when the day was fine, to come out to walk attended by his secretaries, Mr. Lear and Major Jackson. He always crossed directly over from his own door to the sunny side of the street, and walked down.” She never observed them conversing, and often wondered and watched as a child to see if any of the party spoke, but never perceived that anything was said. He was always dressed in black, and all three wore cocked hats. “It was Mrs. Washington’s custom to return visits on the third day, and in calling on her mother, she would send a footman over, who would knock loudly and announce Mrs. Washington, who would then come over with Mr. Lear.” “Her manners were very easy, pleasant, and unceremonious, with the characteristics of other Virginia ladies.” An English manufacturer breakfasted with the President’s family on the 8th of June, 1794. “I confess,” he says, “I was struck with awe and veneration when I recollected that I was now in the presence of the great Washington, ‘the noble and wise benefactor of the world,’ as Mirabeau styles him. The President seemed very thoughtful, and was slow in delivering himself, which induced some to believe him reserved. But it was rather, I apprehend, the result of much reflection; for he had, to me, an appearance of affability and accommodation. He was at this time in his sixty-third year, but had very little the appearance of age, having been all his life so exceedingly temperate. Mrs. Washington herself made tea and coffee for us. On the table were two small plates of sliced tongue, and dry toast, bread and butter, but no broiled fish, as is the general custom here. She struck me as being something older than the President, though I understand they were both born the same year. She was extremely simple in her dress, and wore a very plain cap, with her gray hair turned up under it.”