Part 11 (1/2)
CHAPTER XV
THE PEACE OF HOME AT LAST
I. SORROW FOR THE DEPARTED SCENES AROUND MOUNT VERNON
At the close of his term of office, March 4, 1797, Was.h.i.+ngton retired to his home at Mount Vernon loved by all the understanding world.
In a letter to Mrs. S. Fairfax, then in England, he wrote, ”It is a matter of sore regret when I cast my eyes toward Belvoir, which I often do, to reflect that the former inhabitants of it, with whom we lived in such harmony and friends.h.i.+p, no longer reside there, and the ruins only can be viewed as the mementoes of former pleasures.”
The home interest of Was.h.i.+ngton can be seen in a letter he wrote to Miss Nelly Custis, a granddaughter of his wife. Her father had died when she was a child, and Was.h.i.+ngton, having no children, had adopted Nelly and brought her up in his family. She was of a beautiful nature and was much beloved by Was.h.i.+ngton.
She appears to have had some very decided social notions, and one of these was, as she expressed it, ”a perfect apathy toward the youth of the present day,” and a determination never to give herself ”a moment's uneasiness on account of any of them.”
That was perhaps the rather high-sounding notion that romantic young folks sometimes acquire of independence from usual life and of superiority to their a.s.sociates. Evidently Was.h.i.+ngton did not regard her resolution with any grave alarm. He perhaps knew the ancient privilege allowing women to change their minds. Nevertheless, it was worthy of his experienced consideration, at least against letting too many know her ”irrevocable determination” because, when she did change, as was doubtless inevitable, it should not bear any likelihood of being embarra.s.sing.
”Men and women,” he wrote her, ”feel the same inclination toward each other now that they always have done, and which they will continue to do until there is a new order of things; and you, as others have done, may find that the pa.s.sions of your s.e.x are easier raised than allayed.
Do not, therefore, boast too soon nor too strong of your insensibility.
”Love is said to be an involuntary pa.s.sion, and it is therefore contended that it cannot be resisted. This is true in part only, for, like all things else, when nourished and supplied plentifully with aliment, it is rapid in its progress; but let these be withdrawn, and it may be stifled in its birth or much stinted in its growth.
”Although we cannot avoid first impressions, we may a.s.suredly place them under guard.
”When the fire is beginning to kindle, and your heart growing warm, propound these questions to it: Who is this invader? Have I a competent knowledge of him? Is he a man of good character? A man of sense? For, be a.s.sured, a sensible woman can never be happy with a fool. What has been his walk in life? Is he one to whom my friends can have no reasonable objection?
”If all these interrogations can be satisfactorily answered, there will remain but one more to be asked. That, however, is an important one. Have I sufficient ground to conclude that his affections are engaged by me? Without this the heart of sensibility will struggle against a pa.s.sion that is not reciprocated.”
Sure enough, it was but a short time until romance came to Mount Vernon, and Miss Nelly changed her mind very promptly. Lawrence Lewis arrived, the clouds of doubt vanished, and the love-bells were set to ringing until the wedding-bells took up the melody that pa.s.sed on into the music of the spheres.
II. CROWNED IN THE FULLNESS OF TIME 1799
The beginning of the year 1799 was full of the romantic happiness of immortal youth for the household of Was.h.i.+ngton, but the close of the year brought to an end the career of the first great American. On the twelfth of December he rode as usual around the estate at Mount Vernon, and was caught in a sleety rain. From this he developed acute laryngitis and died on the night of the fourteenth. He said, ”I die hard but I am not afraid to go,” and his last words were, ”'Tis well.”
His loved ones were around him and his last look was lovingly upon them. The doctor saw his countenance change in death. He put his hands over the eyes out of which the light had forever gone, and one of the n.o.blest souls of the earth pa.s.sed away. There was not a struggle or a sigh.
Mrs. Was.h.i.+ngton was sitting at the foot of the bed, and she asked bravely, ”Is he gone?”
The doctor could not speak, but he held up his hand as a sign that the spirit of their beloved was no longer there.
”'Tis well,” she said, repeating his last words. ”All is now over; I shall soon follow him; I have no more trials to pa.s.s through.”
The tributes of America and the world to his honor and his name may be noted in the words of Lord Brougham, an eminent British statesman, who reflected the feeling of the nation against which he had waged a successful war: ”It will be the duty of the historian, and the sage of all nations,” he said, ”to let no occasion pa.s.s of commemorating this ill.u.s.trious man, and, until time shall be no more, will a test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of Was.h.i.+ngton.”
The great nations having any sort of democratic ideal fully recognized the fact that in his death had pa.s.sed away one of the great men of the earth. The English Channel fleet lowered their s.h.i.+ps' flags at half-mast in token of respect, and in the land of Napoleon, who was then master of France, there was crepe draped about all their standards. Talleyrand, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and one of the greatest orators and statesmen, prepared a report to the French government in which he said: ”A nation which some day will be a great nation, and which today is the wisest and happiest on the face of the earth, weeps at the bier of a man whose courage and genius contributed most to free it from bondage and elevated it to the rank of an independent and sovereign power. The regrets caused by the death of this great man, the memories aroused by these regrets, and a proper veneration for all that is held dear and sacred by mankind, impel us to give expression to our sentiments by taking part in an event which deprives the world of one of its brightest ornaments, and removes to the realm of history one of the n.o.blest lives that ever honored the human race.
”His own country now honors his memory with funeral ceremonies, having lost a citizen whose public actions and una.s.suming grandeur in private life were a living example of courage, wisdom and unselfishness; and France, which from the dawn of American Revolution hailed with hope a nation, hitherto unknown, that was discarding the vices of Europe, which foresaw all the glory that this nation would bestow on humanity, and the enlightenment of governments that would ensue from the novel character of the social inst.i.tutions, and the new type of heroism, of which Was.h.i.+ngton and America were models for the world at large,--France, I repeat, should depart from established usages, and do honor to one whose fame is beyond comparison with that of others.
The man who, among the decadence of modern ages, first dared believe that he could inspire degenerate nations with courage to rise to the level of republican virtues, lived for all nations and for all centuries.”