Thoughts of Home
General Washington Kept a Picture of Mount Vernon in His Mind's Eye During the Revolutionary War
By Philander D. Chase
When
George Washington set out from Mount Vernon on May 4, 1775, to attend
the second Continental Congress in Philadelphia, little did he know that
more than six years would pass before he again saw his beloved home on
the Potomac and that even then, in September 1781, he would spend only
a few days under his own roof before traveling on to Yorktown to fight
one of the most decisive battles in history. Washington's acceptance on
June 16, 1775 of the position of commander in chief of all American forces
did not change his expectation that his absence from Mount Vernon would
be short. As all soldiers are wont to do, General Washington believed
in the summer of 1775 that he would be home by Christmas. But as the war
lengthened interminably, stretching out to eight and a half years in all,
Washington realized that the struggling American cause could ill afford
him the luxury of a long furlough at home. The lack of a strong central
government and of a dependable standing army of well-trained veterans
meant that more often than not it was George Washington who had to pick
up the pieces when the American cause was in deep trouble and put them
back together as best he could.
General Washington was a very busy man during the Revolutionary War.
He spent surprisingly little time, however, fighting battles or even riding
one of the handsome horses astride which artists like to depict the general.
A visitor to headquarters most likely would find General Washington at
his desk immersed in paperwork. He wrote far more than he rode, a fact
that was not particularly pleasing to him. During the eight and a half
years that Washington served as commander in chief of the Continental
army, he probably wrote as many or more letters than he did during all
the rest of his life put together.
The thirty-five volumes projected for the Revolutionary War Series
of the Papers of George Washington will be a testament not merely to the
great volume of his wartime correspondence, however, but also to its great
importance. As burdensome as Washington found his almost daily letter-writing
chores to be, he persisted in employing his own pen and those of his several
aides and secretaries at every opportunity, because letters were more
important than shot and shell in winning his most important battles: the
fight to preserve his army and make it an effective fighting force, and
the fight to convince his diverse fellow citizens to lay aside their differences
and rally to the support of the American cause. Praising, complaining,
scolding, cajoling, exhorting, and instructing as necessary, Washington
wrote not only to congressmen, governors, and generals, but also to state
legislators, local committeemen, militia officers, and private citizens
to achieve his ends.
Given
Washington's great wartime responsibilities, he might be forgiven if he
banned thoughts of Mount Vernon from his mind for the duration of the
war. That he did not reveals just what an indispensable part of his life
that his home on the Potomac was. Within a week of his taking command
of the Continental Army at Cambridge, Mass., in July 1775, Washington
began a regular correspondence with his distant cousin Lund Washington,
who served as manager of Mount Vernon throughout the war. Although events
disrupted that correspondence on occasion, and many of the letters that
these two men exchanged unfortunately have been lost, their surviving
correspondence, which is being printed in the Revolutionary War Series,
offers a rare view of Mount Vernon, because in these letters the general
and his manager put down on paper the sort of remarks and observations
about the mansion and plantation that they otherwise would have simply
spoken in face-to-face conversation.
These letters also show that although Washington did not see Mount
Vernon for many years, he could call up in his mind's eye a vivid picture
of any room in the mansion or any field on the plantation. Writing to
Lund in August 1776, only a few days before the Battle of Long Island,
the general displays his mastery of detail in his instructions for planting
trees around the mansion, which was then being enlarged with the addition
of the south and north wings. "I mean to have groves of Trees at
each end of the dwelling House," he wrote Lund,
that at the South end to range in a line from
the South East Corner to Colo. Fairfax's, extending as low as another
line from the Stable to the dry well, and towards the Coach House,
Hen House, & Smoak House as far as it can go for a Lane to be
left for Carriages to pass to, & from the Stable and Wharf. from
the No. Et Corner of the other end of the House to range so as to
Shew the Barn &ca. in the Neck--from the point where the old Barn
used to Stand to the No. Et Corner of the Smiths Shop, & from
thence to the Servants Hall, leaveng a passage between the Quarter
& Shop, and so East of the Spinning & Weaving House (as they
used to be called) up to a Wood pile, & so into the yard between
the Servts Hall & the House newly erected--these Trees to be Planted
without any order or regularity (but pretty thick, as they can at
any time be thin'd) and to consist that at the North end, of locusts
altogether. & that at the South, of all the clever kind of Trees
(especially flowering ones) that can be got, such as Crab apple, Poplar,
Dogwood, Sasafras, Lawrel, Willow (especially yellow & Weeping
Willow, twigs of which may be got from Philadelphia) and many others
which I do not recollect at present--these to be interspersed here
and there with ever greens such as Holly, Pine, and Cedar, also Ivy--to
these may be added the Wild flowering Shrubs of the larger kind, such
as the fringe Tree & several other kinds that might be mentioned.
Lund Washington responded in comparable detail at the general's repeated
insistence, but with rather poorer spelling.
"The Dineg Room will
I expect be finishd this week now come in," Lund wrote the general
on November 12, 1775.
It is I think very Pretty[.] the Stucco man agrees
the Cielg is a Handsomeer one than any of Colo. [Fielding] Lewises,
altho not half the worck in it . . . . I think it rather two late
to Turf the Ha Has; for the ground freazees now every Night--but it
shall be done very early in the Spring--we have done nothing to the
Gateways--The Posts that were made for them, will be to do over again,
for altho they have been twice Painted, they are rent all to pieces,
they no doubt put plank on them not well seasoned[.] I intend to have
the Stuff try'd up for the pallisadoes this Winter, but I am unwiling
to put them up for I really am at a loss for the just proportion of
each particular part, nor have I any body to direct me[.] I have once
or twice talk'd to Lanphier [the carpenter] about it but he mouths
& talks in such a way that I do not understand him--I mean as
to the dementions of the Pallisades--Sils, rails, Posts, & different
Heights, but I cannot see that it will make any difference whether
that worck is first or last done.
George Washington was successful as both planter and general largely
because he understood such details and insisted on having them in every
endeavor that he undertook.
For that reason, one can truly come to know
Washington only by reading his letters in some detail.
Unlike some famous persons, he cannot be summed up by a few remarkable
quotations. His accomplishments were too broad for that. His greatness
lies in his willingness to take responsibility for daily details while
keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his ultimate goals, be it the elegant
beauty of Mount Vernon or American freedom.
Copyright 1995 by Philander D. Chase, all rights reserved
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