"Neither the extraordinary partiality of the American people, the extravagant praises which were bestowed upon him, nor the inveterate opposition and malignant calumnies which he encountered, had any visible influence upon his conduct. The cause is to be looked for in the texture of his mind. To him, that innate and una.s.suming modesty which adulation would have offended, which the voluntary plaudits of millions could not betray into indiscretion, and which never intruded upon others his claims to superior consideration, was happily blended with a high and correct sense of personal dignity, and with a just consciousness of that respect which is due to station. Without exertion, he could maintain the happy medium between that arrogance which wounds and that facility which allows the office to be degraded in the person who fills it.

"It is impossible to contemplate the great events which have occurred in the United States under the auspices of Washington, without ascribing them, in some measure, to him. If we ask the causes of the prosperous issue of a war, against the successful termination of which there were so many probabilities; of the good which was produced, and the ill which was avoided, during an administration fated to contend with the strongest prejudices that a combination of circ.u.mstances and of pa.s.sions could produce; of the favor of the great ma.s.s of his fellow-citizens, and of the confidence which, to the last moment of his life, they reposed in him--the answer, so far as these causes may be found in his character, will furnish a lesson well meriting the attention of those who are candidates for political fame.

"Endowed by nature with a sound judgment and an accurate, discriminating mind, he feared not that laborious attention which made him perfectly master of those subjects, in all their relations, on which he was to decide. And this essential quality was guided by an unvarying sense of moral right, which would tolerate the employment only of those means that would bear the most rigid examination; by a fairness of intention which neither sought nor required disguise; and by a purity of virtue which was not only untainted, but unsuspected.

"Washington's character, so perfect in its harmonious combination of the best and greatest qualities that const.i.tute the true man, has endured the test of criticism for three quarters of a century; and every time it pa.s.ses through the crucible of severe a.n.a.lysis, in the hands of masters, it appears more perfect than before the ordeal. To this task the best minds of Europe have brought their keenest powers of research, and the conclusion is always the same."

"The bold and successful pa.s.sages of the Delaware, and the surprise of the Hessians," says one of our most accomplished essayists, "awaked in Frederick of Prussia the sympathy and high appreciation which he manifested by the gift of a sword, with an inscription exclusively in praise of Washington's generalship. The moderation of his nature, the heroic balance of his soul, whereby elation was kept in abeyance in the hour of success, not less n.o.bly than despair in the day of misfortune, attracted the French philosopher, habituated as he was, in the history of his own nation, to the a.s.sociation of warlike and civic fame with the extremes of zeal and indifference, of violence and caprice. In his estimation, the good sense and moral consistency of Washington and his compatriots naturally offered the most remarkable problem. Accordingly, Guizot bears witness chiefly to this unprecedented union of comprehensive designs and prudential habits, of aspiration and patience, in the character of Washington; and, doubtless through the contrast with the restless ambition which marks the lives of his own ill.u.s.trious countrymen, is mainly struck with the fact that, 'while capable of rising to the level of the highest destiny, he might have lived in ignorance of his real power, without suffering from it.' The Italian patriot, obliged to vent his love of country in terse dramatic colloquies, and through the lips of dead heroes, is thrilled with the grand possibilities of action, through the realization of his sentiments by achievement, opened to Washington. Even the poor Indians, so often cajoled out of their rights as to be thoroughly incredulous of good faith among the pale-faces, made him an exception to their rooted distrust. 'The white men are bad,' said an aboriginal chief, in his council-speech, 'and can not dwell in the region of the Great Spirit, _except Washington_.' And Lord Brougham, in a series of a.n.a.lytical biographies of the renowned men of the last and present century, which indicate a deep study and philosophical estimate of human greatness, closes his sketch of Washington by the emphatic a.s.sertion that the test of the progress of mankind will be their appreciation of his character."[151]

At his installation as chancellor of the University of Edinburgh, in the spring of 1860, Lord Brougham, in his address, after speaking of Napoleon and Wellington, said: "But in Washington we may contemplate every excellence, military and civil, applied to the service of his country and of mankind--a triumphant warrior, unshaken in confidence when the most sanguine had a right to despair; a successful ruler in all the difficulties of a course wholly untried--directing the formation of a new government for a great people, the first time so vast an experiment had ever been tried by man; voluntarily and unostentatiously retiring from supreme power with the veneration of all parties, of all nations, of all mankind, that the rights of men may be conserved, and that his example might never be appealed to by vulgar tyrants. It will be the duty of the historian and the sage, in all ages, to omit no occasion 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 in virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of WASHINGTON."

One of the most beautiful of the many eulogies of the Great Patriot was written, soon after his death, by an unknown hand (supposed to be that of an English gentleman), on the back of a cabinet profile likeness of Washington, executed in crayon, by Sharpless. It is in the form of a monumental inscription. The following is a copy of it:--

WASHINGTON, The DEFENDER OF HIS COUNTRY, The FOUNDER OF LIBERTY, The FRIEND OF MAN.

HISTORY and TRADITION are explored in vain For a Parallel to his Character.

In the Annals of MODERN GREATNESS He stands alone, And the n.o.blest Names of Antiquity Lose their l.u.s.tre in his Presence.

Born the _Benefactor of Mankind_, He was signally Endowed with all the Qualities Appropriate to his _Ill.u.s.trious Career_.

_Nature_ made him _Great_, And, Heaven-directed, He made _himself Virtuous_.

Called by his Country to the _Defence_ of her _Soil_, And the _Vindication_ of her _Liberties_, He led to the Field _Her Patriot Armies_; And, displaying in rapid and brilliant succession The United Powers Of _Consummate Prudence_ and Heroic Valor, He triumphed in Arms Over the most powerful Nation of Modern Europe; His Sword giving _Freedom to America_, His Counsels breathing _Peace to the World_.

After a short repose From the _tumultuous Vicissitudes_ Of a sanguinary War, The astounding Energies of WASHINGTON Were again destined to a _New Course_ Of _Glory and Usefulness_.

_The Civic Wreath_ Was spontaneously placed By the _Grat.i.tude_ of the _Nation_ On the Brow of the DELIVERER _of his_ COUNTRY.

He was twice _solemnly invested_ With the POWERS of _Supreme Magistracy_, By the _Unanimous Voice_ of _A Free People_; And in his EXALTED and ARDUOUS Station, His _Wisdom_ in the _Cabinet_ Transcended the _Glories of the Field_.

The _Destinies_ of _Washington_ Were now complete.

Having pa.s.sed the Meridian of a _Devoted Life_, Having founded on the Pillars Of NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE The _Splendid Fabric_ Of a GREAT REPUBLIC, And having firmly Established The Empire of the West, He solemnly deposited on the _Altar of his Country_ His _Laurels_ and his _Sword_, And retired to the _Shades_ Of PRIVATE LIFE.

A _Spectacle_ so _New_ and so _Sublime_, Was contemplated by _Mankind_ With the _Profoundest Admiration_; And the Name of WASHINGTON, Adding new _l.u.s.tre_ to _Humanity_, Resounded _To the remotest Regions of the Earth_.

_Magnanimous in Youth_, Glorious through Life, Great in Death, His highest Ambition The _Happiness of Mankind_, His _n.o.blest Victory_ The _Conquest of Himself_.

Bequeathing to America The _Inheritance_ of his _Fame_, And building his _Monument_ In the _Hearts of his Countrymen_, He Lived, The _Ornament_ of the Eighteenth Century; He Died, LAMENTED BY A MOURNING WORLD.

FOOTNOTES:

[151] _Essays, Biographical and Critical; or, Studies of Character_. By Henry T. Tuckerman.

CHAPTER XLIV.

WASHINGTON'S HABITS AND PERSONAL APPEARANCE.

Washington, as we have observed in the earlier portion of this work, was pa.s.sionately fond of field-sports; and during the first years of his married life, and even to the kindling of the Revolution, he frequently indulged in the pleasures of the chase. He was an admirable equestrian, but was not a successful sportsman. He engaged in the chase more for the pleasure produced by the excitement, than for the honors of success. He had quite a large kennel of hounds, and a fine stud of horses. Of these he kept, with his own hand, a careful register, in which might be found the names, ages, and marks of each. With these, his companions of the chase, he was as carefully punctual in his attentions as to any other business of his life. Among the names of his horses were those of c.h.i.n.kling, Valiant, Ajax, Magnolia, Blueskin, etc. Magnolia was a full-blooded Arabian, and was used for the saddle upon the road. Among the names of his hounds were Vulcan, Ringwood, Singer, Truelove, Music, Sweetlips, Forester, Rockwood, etc. It was his pride (and a proof of his skill in hunting) to have his pack so critically drafted, as to speed and bottom, that in running, if one leading dog should lose the scent, another was at hand immediately to recover it; and thus, when in full cry, to use a racing-phrase, you might "cover the pack with a blanket."

Mr. Custis, in his _Recollections of Washington_, has given some interesting incidents of his life as a sportsman. "During the season,"

he says, "Mount Vernon had many sporting guests from the neighborhood, from Maryland, and elsewhere. Their visits were not of days, but weeks; and they were entertained in the good old style of Virginia's ancient hospitality. Washington, always superbly mounted, in true sporting costume, of blue coat, scarlet waistcoat, buckskin breeches, top-boots, velvet cap, and whip with long thong, took the field at daybreak, with his huntsman, Will Lee, his friends and neighbors." They usually hunted three times a week, if the weather was favorable.

On the hunting-mornings, breakfast was served at candlelight. Washington seldom partook of anything but Indian-corn cakes and milk. At dawn the whole cavalcade would leave Mount Vernon, and frequently before sunrise the dogs would be in full cry after a fox, Washington usually rode a horse named _Blueskin_, a fiery animal, of great endurance, and of a dark, iron-gray color. Billy (who was Washington's body-servant during the war) always kept with the hounds; "and, mounted on _c.h.i.n.kling_," says Custis, "a French horn at his back, throwing himself almost at length on the animal, with his spurs in flank, this fearless horseman would rush at full speed, through brake and tangled wood, in a style at which modern huntsmen would stand aghast." When the chase was ended, the party would return to Mount Vernon to dinner, where other than sporting guests were frequently a.s.sembled to greet them. The table was always furnished generously; and the expensive style in which Washington kept up his establishment before the Revolution may be inferred from an entry in his diary, in 1768, in which he says, "Would any one believe that, with a _hundred and one cows_, actually reported at a late enumeration of the cattle, I should still be obliged to buy b.u.t.ter for my family?" During the war, these pleasures were suspended, nor was the sporting establishment ever revived, to any great extent. Lafayette sent Washington some hounds in 1785, but increasing private and public duties caused the master of Mount Vernon to neglect the pleasures in which he once took such delight.

It must not be supposed that, during those years of social enjoyment, Washington neglected any duties. As a member of the Virginia house of burgesses, he was a.s.siduous, punctual, and faithful. As a farmer, he was careful, prudent, and skilful; and he managed his estate of eight thousand acres with such signal industry and ability, that he was considered a model agriculturist. He did not leave his farms to the entire care of his overseers. He continually exercised a general supervision of his affairs, except when absent on public business; and even then, through weekly reports, which he required his manager to transmit to him regularly, he had a perfect knowledge of all operations, and sometimes gave lengthy and minute directions.

While Washington's table was always bountifully supplied for his guests, he seldom partook of those preparations of the cook which specially please the appet.i.te. He was very abstemious, and never indulged to excess in eating or drinking. His breakfast-hour was seven o'clock in summer, and eight in winter. He usually made a frugal meal of Indian cakes, honey, and tea or coffee, then mounted his horse and visited every part of his estate, where the current operations seemed to require his presence, leaving his guests to enjoy themselves with books and papers, or otherwise, according to their choice. He rode upon his farms entirely unattended, opening the gates, pulling down and putting up the "bars," and inspecting with careful eye every agricultural operation.

Sometimes the tour of his farms in the course of the morning might average, in distance, twelve or fifteen miles. The late Mr. Custis has left on record a description of his appearance on one of these occasions, in the latter years of his life, which he gave to a gentleman who was out in search of Washington. "You will meet, sir" said young Custis to the inquirer, "with an old gentleman riding alone, in plain drab clothes, a broad-brimmed white hat, a hickory switch in his hand, and carrying an umbrella with a long staff, which is attached to his saddle-bow--that person, sir, is General Washington."

He dined at three o'clock, when he always ate heartily, but of simple food. His usual beverage was small-beer and cider, and Madeira wine. Of the latter he often drank several small gla.s.ses at a sitting. He took tea and toast, or a little well-baked bread, early in the evening; conversed with or read to his family when there were no guests; and usually, whether there was company or not, retired for the night at about nine o'clock. He was an early riser, and might be found in his library from one to two hours before daylight in winter, and at dawn in summer. His toilet, plain and simple, was soon made. A single servant prepared his clothes, and laid them in a proper place at night, for use in the morning. He always dressed and shaved himself, and a servant combed and tied his hair. Always neat in his dress and appearance, yet he never wasted precious moments upon his toilet; for he regarded time, not as a gift, but a loan, for which he must account to the Great Master.

The economy practised at Mount Vernon was always exercised by Washington while in public office. He had engaged Samuel Fraunces, the noted innkeeper in New York, as the steward of his household when he was president of the United States. "We are happy to inform our readers,"

said Fenno's _Gazette_, "that the president is determined to pursue that system of regularity and economy in his household which has always marked his public and private life. As a proof of this, we learn that the steward is obliged, by his articles of agreement, to exhibit weekly a fair statement of the receipts and expenditures of moneys by him, for and on account of the president's household, to such person as the president may appoint to inspect the same; together with the several bills and receipts of payment for those articles which may be purchased by him, when such bills and receipts can be obtained. And it is likewise strongly inculcated on the steward to guard against any waste or extravagance that might be committed by the servants of the family."[152]

The late Reverend Ashbel Green has left on record the following personal reminiscences of Washington during his residence in Philadelphia as chief magistrate of the nation: "After a great deal of talking, and writing, and controversy, about the permanent seat of Congress, under the present const.i.tution, it was determined that Philadelphia should be honored with its presence for ten years, and that afterward its 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 this 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--that he 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, n.o.body 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 streets, on the south side, and furnished it handsomely, but not gorgeously. There he lived, with Mrs. Washington; Mr. Lear (his private secretary) and his wife, and Mrs.

Washington's grandchildren, making a part of the family. Young Custis had a private tutor, employed by the president, who was engaged to attend on his pupil one hour in the winter mornings, before breakfast; and who, then, commonly breakfasted with the president and his family.

The president ate Indian-cakes for breakfast, after the Virginia fashion, although buckwheat-cakes were generally on the table.

Washington's dining parties were entertained in a very handsome style.

His weekly dining-day, for company, was Thursday, and his dining-hour was always four o'clock in the afternoon. His rule was, to allow five minutes for the variation of clocks and watches, and then go to the table, be present or absent whoever might. He kept his own clock in the hall, just within the outward door, and always exactly regulated. When lagging members of Congress came in, as they often did, after the guests had sat down to dinner, the president's only apology was, 'Gentlemen (or sir), we are too punctual for you. I have a cook who never asks whether the company has come, but whether the hour has come,' The company usually a.s.sembled in the drawing-room, about fifteen or twenty minutes before dinner, and the president spoke to every guest personally on entering the room.

"He was always dressed in a suit of black, his hair powdered and tied in a black queue behind, with a very elegant dress-sword, which he wore with inimitable grace. Mrs. Washington often, but not always, dined with the company, sat at the head of the table, and if, as was occasionally the case, there were other ladies present, they sat each side of her.

The private secretary sat at the foot of the table, and was expected to be quietly attentive to all the guests. The president himself sat half way from the head to the foot of the table, and on that side he would place Mrs. Washington, though distant from him, on his right hand. He always, unless a clergyman was present, at his own table, asked a blessing, in a standing posture. If a clergyman were present, he was requested both to ask a blessing, and to return thanks after dinner. The centre of the table contained five or six large silver or plated waiters, those of the ends circular or rather oval on one side, so as to make the arrangement correspond with the oval shape of the table. The waiters between the end-pieces were in the form of parallelograms, the ends about one third part of the length of the sides; and the whole of these waiters were filled with alabaster figures, taken from the ancient mythology, but none of them such as to offend, in the smallest degree, against delicacy. On the outside of the oval, formed by the waiters, were placed the various dishes, always without covers; and outside the dishes were the plates. A small roll of bread, enclosed in a napkin, was laid by the side of each plate. The president, it is believed, generally dined on one dish, and that of a very simple-kind. If offered something, either in the first or second course, which was very rich, his usual reply was, 'That is too good for me.' He had a silver pint cup or mug of beer placed by his plate, which he drank while dining. He took one gla.s.s of wine during dinner, and commonly one after. He then retired (the ladies having gone a little before him), and left his secretary to superintend the table till the wine-bibbers of Congress had satisfied themselves with drinking. His wines were always the best that could be obtained. Nothing could exceed the order with which his table was served. Every servant knew what he was to do, and did it in the most quiet and yet rapid manner. The dishes and plates were removed and changed with a silence and speed that seemed like enchantment."

Washington's personal appearance, and deportment in public and private life, have often been the theme of description. In the year 1790, an English gentleman, of intelligence and culture, was a guest at the presidential mansion, in New York, after Washington had left Franklin square, and taken up his abode in "M'Comb's house," on the west side of Broadway, near Trinity church. The following account of that visit, supposed to be from the pen of Hazlitt, appeared in the London _New Monthly Magazine_: "I remember my father telling me he was introduced to Washington, in 1790, by an American friend. A servant, well looking and well dressed, received the visitants at the door, and by him they were delivered over to an officer of the United States service, who ushered them into the drawing-room, in which Mrs. Washington and several ladies were seated. There was nothing remarkable in the person of the lady of the president; she was matronly and kind, with perfect good breeding.

She at once entered into easy conversation, asked how long he had been in America, how he liked the country, and such other familiar but general questions. In a few minutes the general was in the room. It was not necessary to announce his name, for his peculiar appearance, his firm forehead, Roman nose, and a projection of the lower jaw, his height and figure, could not be mistaken by any one who had seen a full-length picture of him, and yet no picture accurately resembled him in the minute traits of his person. His features, however, were so marked by prominent characteristics, which appear in all likenesses of him, that a stranger could not be mistaken in the man. He was remarkably dignified in his manners, and had an air of benignity over his features which his visitant did not expect, being rather prepared for sternness of countenance.

"After an introduction by Mrs. Washington, without more form than common good manners prescribes, 'he requested me,' said my father, 'to be seated; and, taking a chair himself, entered at once into conversation.

His manner was full of affability. He asked how I liked the country, the city of New York; talked of the infant inst.i.tutions of America, and the advantages she offered, by her intercourse, for benefiting other nations. He was grave in manner, but perfectly easy. His dress was of purple satin. There was a commanding air in his appearance which excited respect, and forbade too great a freedom toward him, independently of that species of awe which is always felt in the moral influence of a great character. In every movement, too, there was a polite gracefulness equal to any met with in the most polished individuals in Europe, and his smile was extraordinarily attractive. It was observed to me that there was an expression in Washington's face that no painter had succeeded in taking. It struck me no man could be better formed for command. A stature of six feet, a robust but well-proportioned frame, calculated to sustain fatigue, without that heaviness which generally attends great muscular strength and abates active exertion, displayed bodily power of no mean standard. A light eye and full--the very eye of genius and reflection, rather than of blind, pa.s.sionate impulse. His nose appeared thick, and, though it befitted his other features, was too coa.r.s.ely and strongly formed to be the handsomest of its cla.s.s. His mouth was like no other that I ever saw; the lips firm, and the under jaw seeming to grasp the upper with force, as if its muscles were in full action when he sat still. Neither with the general nor with Mrs.

Washington was there the slightest restraint of ceremony. There was less of it than I ever recollect to have met with where perfect good breeding and manners were at the same time observed. To many remarks Washington a.s.sented with a smile or inclination of the head, as if he were by nature sparing in his conversation, and I am inclined to think this was the case. An allusion was made to a serious fit of illness he had recently suffered; but he took no notice of it. I could not help remarking that America must have looked with anxiety to the termination of his indisposition. He made no reply to my compliment but by an inclination of the head. His bow at my taking leave I shall never forget. It was the last movement which I saw that ill.u.s.trious character make, as my eyes took their leave of him for ever, and it hangs a perfect picture upon my recollection. The house of Washington was in the Broadway, and the street front was handsome. The drawing-room in which I sat was lofty and s.p.a.cious; but the furniture was not beyond that found in dwellings of opulent Americans in general, and might be called plain for its situation. The upper end of the room had gla.s.s doors, which opened upon a balcony, commanding an extensive view of the Hudson river, interspersed with islands, and the Jersey sh.o.r.e on the opposite side. A grandson and daughter resided constantly in the house with the general, and a nephew of the general's, married to a niece of Mrs. Washington, resided at Mount Vernon, the general's family-seat in Virginia; his residence, as president, keeping him at the seat of government.' The levees held by Washington, as president, were generally crowded, and held on Tuesday, between three and four o'clock. The president stood, and received the bow of the person presented, who retired to make way for another. At the drawing-room, Mrs. Washington received the ladies, who courtesied, and pa.s.sed aside without exchanging a word. Tea and coffee, with refreshments of all kinds, were laid in one part of the rooms; and, before the individuals of the company retired, each lady was a second time led up to the lady-president, made her second silent obeisance, and departed. Nothing could be more simple, yet it was enough."

The late Mr. Custis, in his _Recollections of Washington_, says: "With all its developments of muscular power, the form of Washington had no appearance of bulkiness; and so harmonious were its proportions, that he did not appear so pa.s.sing tall as his portraits have represented. He was rather spare than full during his whole life; this is readily ascertained from his weight. The last time he weighed was in the summer of 1799, when, having made the tour of his farms, accompanied by an English gentleman, he called at his mill and was weighed. The writer placed the weight in the scales. The Englishman, not so tall, but stout, square built, and fleshy, weighed heavily, and expressed much surprise that the general had not outweighed him, when Washington observed that the best weight of his best days never exceeded from two hundred and ten to two hundred and twenty pounds. In the instance alluded to, he weighed a little rising two hundred and ten. In the prime of life, Washington stood six feet two inches, and measured precisely six feet when attired for the grave.

"The power of Washington's arm was displayed in several memorable instances: in his throwing a stone from the bed of the stream to the top of the Natural Bridge; another over the Palisades into the Hudson; and yet another across the Rappahannock, at Fredericksburg. Of the article with which he spanned this n.o.ble and navigable stream, there are various accounts. We are a.s.sured that it was a piece of slate, fashioned to about the size and shape of a dollar, and which, sent by an arm so strong, not only spanned the river, but took the ground at least thirty yards on the other side. Numbers have since tried this feat, but none have cleared the water. 'Tis the 'Douglas cast,' made in the days when Virginia's men were strong, as her maids are fair; when the hardy sports of the gymnasium prepared the body to answer the 'trumpet-call to war,'

and gave vigor and elevation to the mind; while our modern habits would rather fit the youth 'to caper nimbly in a lady's chamber.'

"While the late and venerable Charles Willson Peale was at Mount Vernon, in 1772, engaged in painting the portrait of the provincial colonel, some young men were contending in the exercise of pitching the bar.

Washington looked on for a time, then grasping the missile in his master-hand, whirled the iron through the air, which took the ground far, very far, beyond any of its former limits; the colonel observing, with a smile, 'You perceive, young gentlemen, that my arm yet retains some portion of the vigor of my earlier days.' He was then in his fortieth year, and probably in the full meridian of his physical powers; but those powers became rather mellowed than decayed by time, for 'his age was like a l.u.s.ty winter, frosty yet kindly;' and, up to his sixty-eighth year, he mounted a horse with surprising agility, and rode with the ease and gracefulness of his better days. His personal prowess, that elicited the admiration of a people who have nearly all pa.s.sed from the stage of life, still serves as a model for the manhood of modern times.

"In the various exhibitions of Washington's great physical powers, they were apparently attended by scarcely any effort. On one occasion, when quite a young man, he was present while others were trying their strength in wrestling. He had retired to the shade of a tree, intent upon the perusal of a favorite volume; and it was only when the champion of the games strode through the ring, calling for n.o.bler compet.i.tors, and taunting the student with the reproach that it was the fear of encountering so redoubted an antagonist that kept him from the ring, that Washington closed his book, and, without divesting himself of his coat, calmly walked into the arena, observing that fear formed no part of his being. Then, grappling with the champion, the struggle was fierce, but momentary, 'for,' said the vanquished hero of the arena, 'in Washington's lion-like grasp, I became powerless, and was hurled to the ground with a force that seemed to jar the very marrow in my bones;'

while the victor, regardless of the shouts that proclaimed his triumph, leisurely retired to his shade, and the enjoyment of his favorite volume.

"Washington's powers were chiefly in his limbs: they were long, large, and sinewy. His frame was of equal breadth from the shoulders to the hips. His chest, though broad and expansive, was not prominent, but rather hollowed in the centre. He had suffered from a pulmonary affection in early life, from which he never entirely recovered. His frame showed an extraordinary development of bone and muscle; his joints were large, as were his feet; and could a cast have been preserved of his hand, to be exhibited in these degenerate days, it would be said to have belonged to the being of a fabulous age. During Lafayette's visit to Mount Vernon in 1825, he said to the writer: 'I never saw so large a hand on any human being, as the general's. It was in this portico, in 1784, that you were introduced to me by the general. You were a very little gentleman, with a feather in your hat, and holding fast to _one finger_ of the good general's remarkable hand, which was all you could do, my dear sir, at that time.'"

A late anonymous writer says: "I saw this remarkable man four times. It was in the month of November, 1798, I first beheld the Father of his Country. It was very cold, the northwest wind blowing hard down the Potomac, at Georgetown, D. C. A troop of light-horse, from Alexandria, escorted him to the western bank of the river. The waves ran high, and the boat which brought him over seemed to labor considerably. Several thousand people greeted his arrival with swelling hearts and joyful countenances. The military were drawn up in a long line to receive him; the officers, pressed in regimentals, did him homage. I was so fortunate as to walk by his side, and had a full view of him. Although only about ten years of age, the impression his person and manner then made on me is now perfectly revived. He was six feet and one inch high, broad and athletic, with very large limbs, entirely erect, and without the slightest tendency to stooping; his hair was white, and tied with a silk string; his countenance lofty, masculine, and contemplative; his eye light gray. He was dressed in the clothes of a citizen, and over these a blue surtout of the finest cloth. His weight must have been two hundred and thirty pounds, with no superfluous flesh; all was bone and sinew; and he walked like a soldier. Whoever has seen, in the patent-office at Washington, the dress he wore when resigning his commission as commander-in-chief, in December, 1783, at once perceives how large and magnificent was his frame. During the parade, something at a distance suddenly attracted his attention; his eye was instantaneously lighted up as with the lightning's flash. At this moment I see its marvellous animation, its glowing fire, exhibiting strong pa.s.sion, controlled by deliberate reason.

"In the summer of 1799, I again saw the chief. He rode a purely white horse, seventeen hands high, well proportioned, of high spirit: he almost seemed conscious that he bore on his back the Father of his Country. He reminded me of the war-horse whose 'neck is clothed with thunder.' I have seen some highly-accomplished riders, but not one of them approached Washington; he was perfect in this respect. Behind him, at the distance of perhaps forty yards, came Billy Lee, his body-servant, who had perilled his life in many a field, beginning on the heights of Boston, in 1775, and ending in 1781, when Cornwallis surrendered, and the captive army, with inexpressible chagrin, laid down their arms at Yorktown. Billy rode a cream-colored horse, of the finest form; and his old Revolutionary c.o.c.ked hat indicated that its owner had often heard the roar of cannon and small-arms, and had encountered many trying scenes. Billy was a dark mulatto. His master speaks highly of him in his will, and provides for his support.