H

ISTORIANS and writers have in recent years labored conscientiously to remove from the American mind the demi-god conception of the Father of His Country so carefully inculcated by earlier histories and biographies. Even when accurate, contemporaneous records displayed Washington in more or less human aspect, the public was not permitted so to behold him. For instance, when he referred to "those rascally privateers," it was not deemed proper for the youth of the country to think of his using such a violent word as "rascally" and it was carefully deleted in an early edition of his letters. In another place in the same book he says, "such a dearth of spirit, pray God, I may never witness again." This the editor changes to "such a dearth of, spirit, pray God's mercy, I may never witness again." Impossible in the mind of the editor is the General's expression when speaking of an appropriation, "one hundred thousand dollars will be but a fleabite," so this is made to read, "one hundred thousand dollars will be totally inadequate." In spite of the plain evidence of his own writings, more particularly his letters, and of the statements of men who knew him as intimately as anyone could know him, the super-man obsession was so strong that first commentators on his life and career could not believe him capable of stepping down from the pedestal on which they had boosted him and mingling in everyday affairs

in a human and democratic fashion.

When the tide turned and historians resorted to real sources for their information, rather than continue to perpetuate semi-legendary accounts of Washington's character and actions, the cherry-tree incident was one of the first to go by the board-that pious, moral-pointing story, so dear to school teachers of a generation ago, was consigned to the same place in history as William Tell and his apple. One recent writer has even shown where on a certain occasion, if the Father of His Country did not deliberately tell a fib, he came perilously near it. When as President he toured the Southern states he was very much annoyed by the dust raised by mounted escorts which persisted

in meeting him at every city and accompanying him part of the way when he left. So at one town Washington, being asked by several local dignitaries just what time he was leaving in the morning, replied that he would start before eight o'clock. He did at five o'clock-and had put many miles between him and the possibility of the dust-raising escort when those gentlemen arrived at the place appointed shortly before eight. The incident, rather than in any way reflecting upon Washington's character or giving us a less exhalted opinion of him, shows him as a man who would descend to the semblance of deceit only to spare hurt or humiliation to human feelings. And in presenting Washington in a new light to

Americans, it detracts not in the slightest from his glory-in fact, rather enhances it.

But try as they may, later chroniclers can not quite completely humanize Washington. He had none of the humor, none of the simple, unpretentious view of himself that has made Lincoln's name so beloved. Reverence, awe, admiration are invoked by the thought of the great First President, but rarely a smile or a heartthrob. Even to his contemporaries, to the men who knew him best, there was something which forbade familiarity. John Marshall, first Chief Justice of the United States, relates how on one occasion he saw Washington so overcome with mirth that he rolled on the ground.

The incident which occasioned this display was funny enough: Judge Marshall and Bushrod Washington, the General's nephew, on their way to Mt. Vernon stopped at an inn. A Scotch peddler with a pack not unlike the gentlemen's portmanteau was also a guest, and the negro servant of Marshall mistook the dustcovered pack of the peddler for his master's baggage when they left the inn. They dismounted in the woods not far from Mt. Vernon with the intention of bathing in a nearby stream, and afterward donning clean clothing more appropriate to the dignity of their prospective host and his house. Wholly unclothed they awaited the servant's opening of the portmanteau. He got it down, unstrapped

it, and out flew fancy soap, ribbons and other articles of the peddler's trade. They realized that the joke was on themselves and laughed SO heartily at their plight and the servant's consternation that the noise attracted Washington, who, as was his custom, was riding about his plantation. When he heard the story and understood the situation he gave way to mirth of the violence described. But Marshall long afterward told a friend that he was "never free from restraint in Washington's presence-never felt quite at ease, such was Washington's stateliness and dignity."

So even Marshall, who had seen him roll on the ground-such a thing seems almost impossible, so persistent is our school-day conception of the Father of his Country-still had that feeling of awe in his presence. Similar feelings are recorded by another visitor at Mount Vernon, Jeremiah Smith, twice Chief Justice of New Hampshire, who tells of the simple and hearty hospitality of the. Washingtons. The General lighted his guest to the bedroom assigned to him, assured him that the fire would be perfectly safe, and showed every anxiety as to his comfort. In the morning Washington acompanied Judge Smith some miles on his way. "He was always," said the Judge, "dignified, and one stood a little in awe of him." Instances of this sort where men of his own time and age testify to the awe-inspiring effect of Washington's presence might be multi

plied almost indefinitely. Nor did he seem anxious ever to remove that impression. Especially did he insist upon the deference due his position both as General-in-Chief of the Continental Forces and later as President. Lord Howe, the British commander, was loath to accord the American leader the title of "General" in his communications and addressed him in his first note, while the Continental Army was in winter quarters at Valley Forge, simply, “George Washington, Esq." The note was sent back, with the written comment that no such person was present at American Headquarters. Howe took the very broad hint. In 1789, when the young government was firmly established and all important appointments made, the President went on tour of the Eastern states. By his attitude he impressed upon the dignitaries who welcomed him that he came, not as the hero of the Revolution, but as President of the United States. At Boston, Governor Hancock sought to force Washington to make the first call upon him by pleas of illness. But Washington would not concede one inch of the precedence to which as head of the Nation he considered himself entitled, and forced the old Governor, swathed in flannels and carried by his attendants, to come to him. Personally Washington would never have demanded any such deference, but he was jealous of the dignity and standing of the new Nation, and would not tolerate the slightest deviation from the utmost respect and consideration for its representatives. The Ambassador of France, trading upon the close relation between his country and the new Republic, assumed that he should at all times have direct entree to the President in matters affecting the mutual relations of the two governments. Washington courteously, but firmly set him right. That the United States had every reason to hold France in loyal affection, he gladly admitted; but affection became servility when it lost its self-respect, and France must approach the President of the United States as every other country did, through the properly constituted departments.

In comparing Washington with other great men produced by the United States in more recent times, it must be borne in mind that he was of the nobility, or at least of the gentleman class, when such distinctions meant a great deal not only in England, but in her colonies. He was a large land-holder, he owned many slaves, and when he was appointed to the command of the Continental Armies he was recognized as the most prominent citizen of Virginia, the colony which alone disputed Massachusetts' claim to supremacy among the commonwealths along the Atlantic seaboard. The sense of dignity, the jealous guarding of personal honor and prestige, was ingrained in the class to which Washington be

longed-he would tenderly care for a slave who was ill and protect him from injury at all costs, but for that same slave to enter his presence with covered head would be an almost unforgivable offense. A guest at Mt. Vernon suffering from a cough, we are told, was surprised with a visit from Washington himself in the middle of the night bearing a cup of tea which the General had brewed, in the hope that it might relieve his guest's distress. These things are eloquent of the innate simplicity and humbleness of the real man; the times and the customs alone were responsible for his insistence upon a public deference which to us seems absurdly pretentious and unnecessary.

In nearly all of his relations with the Army we see the more human side of him. The hardships and the discomforts of military life never seemed to be of any moment to him, except that he longed for the war to end that he might return to his home and his farming. He had the power of attaching men to him with bonds of affection and admiration, and no general ever had greater need of such power. The Continental levies, recruited from the farmer lads and frontiersmen of the time, were, in the first stages of the war, as independent a soldiery as were ever seen in the field. Congress, so called, was nothing but an advisory body for the States, and the men in the Army had no respect for its authority. They were volunteers in the fullest sense of that word, and most of them felt perfectly free to terminate their enlistments whenever and wherever they pleased. They were unpaid for months at a time, poorly clothed, starved and rarely furnished with enough rifles and ammunition. The only thing that the Continental Congress seemed particularly generous with, was poor advice and unwise interference with the Commanderin-Chief's plans. But the rank and file of an army are seldom the last to appreciate the good qualities of a commander. The majority of Washington's army properly valued his high patriotism and his consummate military ability. His constant out-maneuvering of mu h-touted British generals; his trick of finding a way out when his opponents were fatuously certain they had him trapped, all worked strongly to endear him to his own soldiers and give them pride in him -which kept them at the task even when victory seemed hopeless. He never really suffered a disastrous defeat, and no general under his command, when he obeyed orders, ever found himself at the mercy of the enemy-there was always a way open by which to get out.

Washington, who had seen the arrant cowardice of the British regulars at Braddock's defeat, had no illusions about the invincibility of British arms, nor in his estimation, were the English generals sent against him one whit abler than the

leaders of the colonial armies. He appraised them justly and never erred on the side of over-confidence. His opponents did, repeatedly: Howe, Clinton, Burgoyne, all labored under the delusion that they were fighting crowds of undisciplined rustics generaled by colonial officers who could not know the art of war as practiced on the battle fields of Europe. Even Bunker Hill, which showed the world that colonials could stand up against and repeatedly repulse the steady, massed attack of trained veterans, did not open the eyes of British commanders. True, the New York campaign displayed Washington's army at its worst and gave the enemy every reason to feel that the Revolution was crumbling. It was at its lowest ebb, but then it was that the genius of the man leading it flamed at its brightest. Withdrawing his troops beyond the Delaware, he pledged his personal fortune to guarantee the pay of his dw.nd.ing regiments and began a series of attacks and retreats which evoked the highest praise from military experts of the time. Frederick the Great of Prussia, the acknowledged master tactician of his day, said that the New Jersey campaign was the most brilliant of the century.

But Washington, doing wonders with the material he had, was never unwilling to learn, and heartily welcomed Baron von Steuben from the great Frederick's staff, when he proffered his services as a teacher of the manual of arms, bayone fighting, and the art of warfare in the field. His coming was providential. The Army was in winter quarters at Valley Forge and the men were in desperate straits to get anything to eat or anything to cover them in the bitter winter, the more horrible when it is realized that the country as a whole was practically untouched by the war and civilians were living in comfort and plenty. Von Steuben's comments on the Continental soldiers as given in letters to an old comrade in Prussia are interesting as showing the difference between the attitude of the colonial soldiers and their European contemporaries. "You say to your soldier," says the Baron, "Do this,' and he doeth it. I am obliged to say to mine, 'This is the reason why you ought to do that' and then he does it." At any rate, the Army came out of its dismal winter quarters stronger than it had ever been before, both in spirit and discipline; more devoted to Washington than ever and in a better condition to serve him. He, with a few others had held the breaking structure of the government together and in spite of all discouragements. intrigue, and local selfishness, he was firm in the conviction that the Colonies were right and would prevail.

It was this pure, bright-burning patriotism of Washington, more than anything else, which attracted other pa(Continued on Page Eleven)