Part 50 (1/2)
”Some time during this year, perhaps, I saw him at Seeme's tavern, in Georgetown. The steps, porch, and street, were crowded with persons desirous of beholding the man. I viewed him through a window. The most venerable, dignified, and wealthy men of the town were there, some conversing with him. Was.h.i.+ngton seemed almost a different being from any of them, and, indeed, from any other person ever reared in this country.
His countenance was not so animated as when I first saw him, for then his complexion was as ruddy as if he were only twenty years old.
”A few months before his death, I beheld this extraordinary man for the last time. He stopped at the tavern opposite the Presbyterian church, in Bridge street, Georgetown. At that time, a regiment of soldiers was stationed in their tents, on the banks of Rock creek, and frequently attended Doctor Balch's church, dressed in their costume, and powdered after the Revolutionary fas.h.i.+on. I attended their parade almost every day; and, on one of these occasions, I recognised Was.h.i.+ngton riding on horseback, unaccompanied by any one. He was going out to see his houses on Capitol hill, as I supposed. They were burnt by the British, in 1814.
My youthful eye was riveted on him until he disappeared, and that for ever. I was surprised that he did not once look at the parade, so far as I could discover; on the contrary, he appeared indifferent to the whole scene.”
”Of the remarkable degree of awe and reverence that the presence of Was.h.i.+ngton always inspired,” says Mr. Custis, ”we shall give one out of a thousand instances. During the cantonment of the American army at the Valley Forge, some officers of the fourth Pennsylvania regiment were engaged in a game of 'fives.' In the midst of their sport, they discovered the commander-in-chief leaning upon the enclosure, and beholding the game with evident satisfaction. In a moment, all things were changed. The ball was suffered to roll idly away; the gay laugh and joyous shout of excitement were hushed into a profound silence, and the officers were gravely grouped together. It was in vain the chief begged of the players that they would proceed with their game; declared the pleasure he had experienced from witnessing their skill; spoke of a proficiency in the manly exercise that he himself could have boasted of in other days. All would not do. Not a man could be induced to move, till the general, finding that his presence hindered the officers from continuing the amus.e.m.e.nt, bowed, and, wis.h.i.+ng them good sport, retired.”
A writer in the _National Intelligencer_, a few years ago, gave the following sketch of the personal appearance of Was.h.i.+ngton:--
”The description given by 'R' [a correspondent of the _Intelligencer_]
of Was.h.i.+ngton's approach to the hall of Congress in Philadelphia, has freshly awakened my own reminiscences of the same scene.
Its vivid truth can not be surpa.s.sed. I stood with him on that same stone platform, before the door of the hall, elevated by a few steps from the pavement, when the carriage of the president drew up. It was, as he describes it, white, or rather of a light cream-color, painted on the panels with beautiful groups, by Cipriani, representing the four seasons. The horses, according to my recollection, were white, in unison with the carriage, 'R.' says they were bays; perhaps he is more correct. As he alighted, and, ascending the steps, paused upon the platform, looking over his shoulder, in an att.i.tude that would have furnished an admirable subject for the pencil, he was preceded by two gentlemen bearing long white wands, who kept back the eager crowd that pressed on every side to get a nearer view. At that moment I stood so near, that I might have touched his clothes; but I should as soon have thought of touching an electric battery. I was penetrated with a veneration amounting to the deepest awe. Nor was this the feeling of a schoolboy only; it pervaded, I believe, every human being that approached Was.h.i.+ngton; and I have been told that, even in his social and convivial hours, this feeling in those who were honored to share them never suffered intermission. I saw him a hundred times afterward, but never with any other than that same feeling. The Almighty, who raised up for our hour of need a man so peculiarly prepared for its whole dread responsibility, seems to have put an impress of sacredness upon his own instrument. The first sight of the man struck the heart with involuntary homage, and prepared everything around him to obey, When he 'addressed himself to speak,'
there was an unconscious suspension of the breath, while every eye was raised in expectation.
”At the time I speak of, he stood in profound silence, and had that statue-like air which mental greatness alone can bestow. As he turned to enter the building, and was ascending the staircase leading to the Congressional hall, I glided along unperceived, almost tinder cover of the skirts of his dress, and entered instantly after him into the lobby of the house, which was of course in session to receive him. On either hand, from the entrance, stood a large cast-iron stove; and, resolved to secure the unhoped-for privilege I had so unexpectedly obtained, I clambered, boy-like, on this stove (fortunately then not much heated), and from that favorable elevation enjoyed, for the first time (what I have since so many thousands of times witnessed with comparative indifference), an uninterrupted view of the American Congress in full session, every member in his place. Shall I be pardoned for saying its aspect was very different from what we now witness? There was an air of decorum, of composure, of reflection, of gentlemanly and polished dignity, which has fled, or lingers only with here and there a 'relic of the olden time.'
”The house seemed then as composed as the senate now is when an impressive speech is in the act of delivery. On Was.h.i.+ngton's entrance, the most profound and death-like stillness prevailed.
House, lobbies, gallery, all were wrapped in the deepest attention; and the souls of that entire a.s.semblage seemed peering from their eyes on the n.o.ble figure which deliberately, and with an unaffected but surpa.s.sing majesty, advanced up the broad aisle of the hall between ranks of standing senators and members, and slowly ascended the steps leading to the speaker's chair. I well remember, standing at the head of the senate, the tall, square, somewhat gaunt form of Mr. Jefferson; conspicuous from his scarlet waistcoat, bright blue coat, with broad, bright b.u.t.tons, as well as by his quick and penetrating air, and high-boned, Scottish cast of features. There, too, stood General Knox, then secretary of war, in all the sleek rotundity of his low stature, with a bold and florid face, open, firm, and manly, in its expression. But I recollect that my boyish eye was caught by the appearance of De Yrujo, the Spanish emba.s.sador. He stood in the rear of the chair, a little on one side, covered with a splendid diplomatic dress, decorated with orders, and carrying under his arm an immense _chapeau-bras_, edged with white ostrich-feathers. He was a man totally different in his air and manner from all around him, and the very antipode especially of the man on whom all eyes but his seemed fixed as by a spell. I saw many other very striking figures grouped about and behind the speaker's chair, but I did not know their names, and had no one to ask: besides, I dared not open my lips.
”The president, having seated himself, remained in silence, serenely contemplating the legislature before him, whose members now resumed their seats, waiting for the speech. No house of wors.h.i.+p, in the most solemn pauses of devotion, was ever more profoundly still than that large and crowded chamber.
”Was.h.i.+ngton was dressed precisely as Stuart has painted him in Lord Lansdowne's full-length portrait--in a full suit of the richest black velvet, with diamond knee-buckles, and square silver buckles set upon shoes j.a.panned with the most scrupulous neatness, black silk stockings, his s.h.i.+rt ruffled at the breast and wrists, a light dress-sword, his hair profusely powdered, fully dressed, so as to project at the sides, and gathered behind in a silk bag, ornamented with a large rose of black ribbon. He held his c.o.c.ked hat, which had a large black c.o.c.kade on one side of it, in his hand, as he advanced toward the chair, and, when seated, laid it on the table.
”At length, thrusting his hand within the side of his coat, he drew forth a roll of ma.n.u.script, which he opened, and rising, held it in his hand, while in a rich, deep, full, sonorous voice, he read his opening address to Congress. His enunciation was deliberate, justly emphasized, very distinct, and accompanied with an air of deep solemnity, as being the utterance of a mind profoundly impressed with the dignity of the act in which it was occupied, conscious of the whole responsibility of its position and action, but not oppressed by it. There was ever about the man something which impressed the observer with a conviction that he was exactly and fully equal to what he had to do. He was never hurried; never negligent; but seemed ever prepared for the occasion, be it what it might. If I could express his character in one word, it would be appropriateness. In his study, in his parlor, at a _levee_, before Congress, at the head of the army, he seemed ever to be just what the situation required him to be. He possessed, in a degree never equalled by any human being I ever saw, the strongest, most ever-present sense of propriety. It never forsook him, and deeply and involuntarily impressed itself upon every beholder. His address was of moderate length. The topics I have, of course, forgotten; indeed, I was not of an age to appreciate them: but the air, the manner, the tones, have never left my mental vision, and even now seem to vibrate on my ear.
”A scene like this, once beheld, though in earliest youth, is never to be forgotten. It must be now fifty years ago, but I could this moment sit down and sketch the chamber, the a.s.sembly, and _the_ man.
”Having closed the reading, he laid down the scroll, and, after a brief pause, retired, as he had entered; when the ma.n.u.script was handed, for a second reading, to Mr. Beckley, then clerk of the house, whose gentlemanly manner, clear and silver voice, and sharp articulation, I shall ever a.s.sociate with the scene. When shall we again behold such a Congress and such a president?”
To make the picture of the personal appearance of Was.h.i.+ngton more complete, the following, from _Sullivan's Familiar Letters_, is added:
”The following are recollections of Was.h.i.+ngton, derived from repeated opportunities of seeing him during the last three years of his public life. He was over six feet in stature; of strong, bony, muscular frame, without fullness of covering, well formed and straight. He was a man of most extraordinary physical strength. In his own house, his action was calm, deliberate, and dignified, without pretension to gracefulness or peculiar manner, but merely natural, and such as one would think it should be in such a man. His habitual motions had been formed before he took command of the American armies, in the wars of the interior, and in the surveying of wilderness lands, employments in which grace and elegance were not likely to be acquired. At the age of sixty-five, time had done nothing toward bending him out of his natural erectness. His deportment was invariably grave; it was sobriety that stopped short of sadness. His presence inspired a veneration and a feeling of awe rarely experienced in the presence of any man. His mode of speaking was slow and deliberate, not as though he was in search of fine words, but that he might utter those only adapted to his purpose. It was the usage of all persons in good society to attend Mrs.
Was.h.i.+ngton's _levee_ every Friday evening. He was always present.
The young ladies used to throng around him, and engage him in conversation. There were some of the well-remembered _belles_ of that day who imagined themselves to be favorites with him. As these were the only opportunities which they had of conversing with him, they were disposed to use them. One would think that a gentleman and a gallant soldier, if he could ever laugh or dress his countenance in smiles, would do so when surrounded by young and admiring beauties. But this was never so: the countenance of Was.h.i.+ngton never softened, nor changed its habitual gravity. One, who had lived always in his family, said that his manner in public life was always the same. Being asked whether Was.h.i.+ngton _could_ laugh, this person said this was a rare occurrence, but one instance was remembered when he laughed most heartily at her narration of an incident in which she was a party concerned, and in which he applauded her agency. The late General Cobb, who was long a member of his family during the war, and who enjoyed a laugh as much as any man could, said that he never saw Was.h.i.+ngton laugh, excepting when Colonel Scammel (if this was the person) came to dine at headquarters.
Scammel had a fund of ludicrous anecdotes, and a manner of telling them, which relaxed even the gravity of the commander-in-chief.
”General Cobb also said that the forms of proceeding at headquarters were exact and precise, orderly and punctual. At the appointed moment, Was.h.i.+ngton appeared at the breakfast-table. He expected to find all the members of his family (Cobb, Hamilton, Humphreys, were among them) awaiting him. He came dressed for the day, and brought with him the letters and despatches of the preceding day, and a short memoranda of the answers to be made; also the substance of orders to be issued. When breakfast was over, these papers were distributed among his aids, to be put into form. Soon afterward he mounted his horse to visit the troops, and expected to find on his return, before noon, all the papers prepared for his inspection and signature. There was no familiarity in his presence; it was all sobriety and business. His mode of life was abstemious and temperate. He had a decided preference for certain sorts of food, probably from early a.s.sociations. Throughout the war, as it was understood in his military family, he gave a part of every day to private prayer and devotion.
”While he lived in Philadelphia, as president, he rose at four in the morning; and the general rule of his house was, that the fires should be covered and the lights extinguished at a certain hour: whether this was nine or ten is not recollected.
”In the early part of his administration, great complaints were made by the opposition of the aristocratic and royal demeanor of the president. Mr. Jefferson makes some commentaries on this subject, which do no credit to his heart or his head. These are too _little_ to be transcribed from the works of this '_great and good man_.'
Doctor Stuart, of Virginia, wrote to him of the dissatisfaction which prevailed on this subject in Virginia. In the fifth volume of Marshall, page 164, will be found an extract of Was.h.i.+ngton's vindication of his conduct, and a most satisfactory one, which shows the proper character of Mr. Jefferson's 'Anas.' These complaints related, in particular, to the manner of receiving such visitors as came from respect or from curiosity, of which there were mult.i.tudes.
The purpose of Was.h.i.+ngton was, that such visitors should accomplish their objects without a sacrifice of time, which he considered indispensable to the performance of his public duties.