After Washington's retirement from the Presidency, Elkanah Watson was a guest at Mount Vernon. He had a serious cold, and after he retired he coughed severely. Suddenly the curtains of his bed were drawn aside, and there stood Washington with a huge bowl of steaming herb tea. "Drink this," he said, "it will be good for that cough."
Washington possessed in a peculiar degree the great gift of remembering faces. Once, while visiting in Newburyport, he saw at work in the grounds of his host an old servant whom he had not seen since the French and Indian war, thirty years before. He knew the man at once, and stopped and spoke kindly to him.
Modesty
Any collection of anecdotes about Washington is sure to refer to his extreme modesty. Upon one occasion, when the speaker of the Assembly returned thanks in glowing terms to Colonel Washington for his services, he rose to express his acknowledgments, but he was so embarrassed that he could not articulate a word. "Sit down, Mr. Washington," said the speaker, "your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any language which I possess."
When Adams suggested that Congress should appoint a general, and hinted plainly at Washington, who happened to sit near the door, the latter rose, "and, with his usual modesty, darted into the library room."
Washington's favorite quotation was Addison's "'Tis not in mortals to command success," but he frequently quoted Shakespeare.
His taste for literature is indicated by the list of books which he ordered for his library at the close of the war: "Life of Charles the Twelfth," "Life of Louis the Fifteenth," "Life and Reign of Peter the Great," Robertson's "History of America," "Voltaire's Letters," Vertol's "Revolution of Rome," "Revolution of Portugal," Goldsmith's "Natural History," "Campaigns of Marshal Turenne," Chambaud's "French and English Dictionary," Locke "On the Human Understanding," and Robertson's "Charles the Fifth." "Light reading," he wrote to his step-grandson, "(by this I mean books of little importance) may amuse for the moment, but leaves nothing behind."
His Dress
Although always very particular about his dress, Washington was no dandy, as some have supposed. "Do not," he wrote to his nephew in 1783, "conceive that fine clothes make fine men any more than fine feathers make fine birds. A plain, genteel dress is more admired and obtains more credit than lace or embroidery in the eyes of the judicious and sensible."