On the occasion of Washington's first visit to Philadelphia, New York, and Boston, in 1756, he rode the whole distance, with two aides and servants, to confer with Governor Shirley of Massachusetts and settle with him the question of his army rank. He was appropriately equipped for his mission, and the description of the little cavalcade is very striking. Washington, in full uniform of a Virginia colonel, a white-and-scarlet cloak, sword-knot of red and gold, his London-made holsters and saddle-cloth trimmed with his livery “lace” and the Washington arms, his aides also in uniform, with the servants in their white-and-scarlet liveries, their cocked hats edged with silver, bringing up the rear, attracted universal notice. Everywhere he was received with enthusiasm, his fame having gone before him. Dined and fêted in Philadelphia and New York, he spent ten days with the hospitable royal governor of Massachusetts. The whole journey was a success, bringing him, as it did, in contact with new scenes and people.
It seems noteworthy that in accounts of the campaigns and battles of the Revolution such frequent mention is made of the commander-in-chief on horseback. From the time he rode from Philadelphia to take command of the army at Cambridge, in 1775, down to the capitulation of Yorktown in 1783, his horses were an important factor in his campaigns. Among many such incidents, a notable one is that which occurred when, after the defeat of the Americans at Brooklyn and their retreat across the river to New York, Washington in his report to Congress wrote: “Our passage across the East River was effected yesterday morning; and for forty-eight hours preceding that I had hardly been off my horse and never closed my eyes.” He was, in fact, the last to leave, remaining until all his troops had been safely ferried across.
An all-night ride to Princeton, in bitter cold, over frozen roads, and, when day dawned, riding fearlessly over the field to rally his men, reining in his charger within thirty yards of the enemy, forms another well-known incident.
At the battle of Brandywine an old farmer was pressed into service to lead the way to where the battle was raging, and he relates that as his horse took the fences Washington was continually at his side, saying repeatedly: “Push along, old man; push along!” Shortly after the defeat at Brandywine, General Howe's advance regiments were attacked at Germantown; and here, as at Princeton, Washington, in spite of the protests of his officers, rode recklessly to the front when things were going wrong.
After the hard winter at Valley Forge, and when in June of 1778 the British abandoned Philadelphia he took up the march to Sandy Hook, Washington resolved to attack them on their route. On crossing the Delaware in pursuit of the enemy, Governor William Livingston of New Jersey presented to the commander-in-chief a splendid white horse, upon which he hastened to the battle-field of Monmouth.
Mr. Custis in his “Recollections of Washington,” states that on the morning of the twenty-eighth of June, he rode, and for that time only during the war, a white charger. Galloping forward, he met General Charles Lee,[54] with the advanced guard, falling back in confusion. Indignant at the disobedience of his orders, Washington expressed his wrath in peremptory language, Lee being ordered to the rear. Riding back and forth through the fire of the enemy, animating his soldiers, and recalling them to their duty he reformed the lines and turned the battle tide by his vigorous measures. From the overpowering heat of the day, and the deep and sandy soil, his spirited white horse sank under him and expired. A chestnut mare, of Arabian stock, was quickly mounted, this beautiful animal being ridden through the rest of the battle. Lafayette, always an ardent admirer of Washington, told in later years of Monmouth, where he had commanded a division, and how his beloved chief, splendidly mounted, cheered on his men. “I thought then as now,” said the enthusiastic Frenchman, “that never had I beheld so superb a man.”
Of all his numerous war-horses, the greatest favorite was Nelson—a large, light sorrel, with white face and legs, named after the patriot governor of Virginia. In many battles,—often under fire,—Nelson had carried his great master and was the favored steed at the crowning event of the war—the capitulation of Yorktown.
Living to a good old age, and never ridden after Washington ceased to mount him, the veteran charger was well taken care of, grazing in a paddock through the summers. And often, as the retired general and President made the rounds of his fields, the old war-horse would run neighing to the fence, to be caressed by the hand of his former master.
During the eight years of his Presidency, Washington frequently took exercise on horseback, his stables containing at that time as many as ten coach- and saddle-horses.
When in Philadelphia, then the seat of government, the President owned two pure white saddle-horses, named Prescott and Jackson, the former being a splendid animal, which, while accustomed to cannon-fire, waving flags, or martial music, had a bad habit of dancing about and shying when a coach, especially one containing ladies, would stop to greet the President. The other white horse, Jackson, was an Arab, with flowing mane and tail, but, being an impetuous and fretful animal, he was not a favorite.