The Washingtons

by Flora Fraser

  The opulent house on Broadway was a backdrop for costly presidential entertainment. Tobias Lear, who kept the household accounts, wrote to Washington in the early autumn: “When we lived in Cherry Street, we could not have more than 12 or 15 persons to dine weekly, exclusive of our own family. Since we have been in Broadway there has seldom been less than 20.” Two additional servants had swelled the “family,” the house “requiring more work in cleaning &ca than that in Cherry Street. We have had some extraordinary dinners, and the Company which has visited Mrs. Washington on Friday evenings has been much more numerous than it could be in the other house.”

  The public dinners that the president gave each week were never a success. The Washingtons sat opposite each other. The ladies were ranged alongside Martha, the gentlemen on either side of the president. “Small images [porcelain figures], flowers (artificial) etc.,” Senator Maclay noted, decorated the table. The food was good and nourishing. Soup, fish, “meats, gammon, and fowls, etc.” preceded desserts of some splendor—“first apple pies, pudding, etc, then iced creams, jellies, etc, then water-melons, musk-melons, apples, peaches, nuts.” But Martha was apparently unwilling to initiate conversation where the president was host. He had always been accustomed to following her lead, speaking only when a subject under discussion interested him. The dinners passed in near silence, till Washington toasted all those present, and the uncomfortable meal was at an end.

  As Washington stamped authority on the office, as protocol and etiquette were, month by month, established, criticism of the executive branch dimmed in some quarters. Lund Washington, at Hayfield, Virginia, even heard that Washington’s gouty neighbour George Mason’s “acrimony agnst the Constitution” was much abated. Mason condemned, however, “the Pomp & parade that is going on at New York, and tells of a number of useless ceremonies that is now in fashion.” The master of Gunston Hall swore “by G–d [that] if the President was not an uncommon Man—we should soon have the Devil to pay—but hoped & indeed did not fear, so long as it pleased God to keep him at the head…it would be out of the power of those Damnd Monarchical fellows with the Vice president, & the Women to ruin the Nation.”

  This summer Washington posed for artist John Trumbull, in military uniform and with an arm laid across the saddle of his riding horse, for a “history painting,” to be entitled Washington and the Departure of the British Garrison from New York City. It shows Washington as vigorous in health as he had ever been. The president, wearing his uniform, ushered a number of elders of the Creek tribe, in New York at this time to negotiate a treaty, into the “painting room.” They were apparently rendered “mute with astonishment” when they confronted a second “Great Father.” Washington was not, however, immune to the onset of age. He was increasingly deaf, and his teeth were a trouble to him. He told John Adams that this was the result of a youthful habit of employing them to crack walnuts.

  For a few days in May 1790, it appeared as if the vice president might soon succeed Washington. Abigail Adams was to write afterward of this period: “I never before realized what I might be called to, and the apprehension of it only for a few days greatly distressed me.” Influenza was raging in New York. On the tenth the president was laid low with a severe inflammation of the lungs. Martha had charge of the sickroom, while her husband battled to breathe. Doctors from Philadelphia as well as medics in New York were called to the case. His condition, nevertheless, worsened. On the fifteenth a caller at the mansion on Broadway found the household in tears and “his life despaired of.” That same day, at four o’clock, Washington began to perspire copiously, his breathing eased. Within days he was declared safe. The opportunity for prolonged convalescence would come only when Congress rose, but tranquillity was restored. On July 5—when the anniversary of independence was celebrated this year, the fourth falling on a Sunday—the president recorded, “Members of Senate, House of Representatives, Public Officers, Foreign Characters &ca. The Members of the Cincinnati, Officers of the Militia, &ca., came with the compliments of the day to me.”

  George and Martha took advantage of the congressional recess to visit Mount Vernon. But the president had little time to manage the plantation. He and Martha were soon to set off for Philadelphia where a new presidential mansion awaited them. In July Washington had signed a Residence Act, creating a federal district, to be named the District of Columbia, centering around Georgetown in Maryland, on the Potomac. Distinct from the other states, it was to accommodate a new national capital. This Federal City was to occupy an area ten square miles—much of it currently woodland and farmland and belonging to different landowners, from whom it must be acquired. Ten years was to be devoted to its building. In the interim, the federal government would have its home in Philadelphia, where Independence Hall and other buildings dating from the colonial period were to be adapted for its needs.

  Philadelphia was replete with friends from the Washingtons’ many sojourns there during the war. It had the added advantage of being relatively near to Mount Vernon. George Augustine, who had charge of the estate, was not in good health, and Fanny’s domestic management caused her aunt anxiety. Martha told her niece to be firm with the house slaves when they pleaded sickness. “Charlotte will lay herself up [take to her bed] for as little as anyone will,” she wrote. Though she might exhibit signs of distress on her departure for presidential residences, Martha had no mind to let anyone imperil the good management of Mount Vernon during her absence.

  26

  Market Street, Philadelphia, 1790–1793

  “events which are governed by the public voice”

  THE WASHINGTONS had often stayed at the house on Market Street in Philadelphia that served as the presidential mansion from late November. It belonged to the Robert Morrises, who had agreed, earlier in the year, to lease it and move to a smaller house they owned on the same street. In September, on his way from New York to Mount Vernon with Martha, the president formed a firm idea of which rooms should be appropriated for “public rooms,” which for official business, and which for the family’s private use. Alterations, including the installation of a double-height bow window or bay, to extend the dining room and drawing room above it to the south, were decided upon. Work on the house proceeded, if slowly. Mary Morris fell ill, and she and her husband were still in situ in the third week of October. Relations between the Washington and Morris families, however, remained cordial.

  Tobias Lear, the president’s private secretary, acted as surveyor of works while Washington was in Virginia. In late October, Lear began to make disposition in the Market Street house of some of the inventory from New York, and his employer advised him: “Mrs Morris, who is a notable lady in family arrangements, can give you much information in all the conveniences about the House & buildings, and I dare say would rather consider it as a compliment to be consulted in these matters (as she is so near) than a trouble to give her opinion of them or in putting up any of the fixtures as the House is theirs & will revert to them.” The lady, Lear reported four days later, “appeared much flattered by your opinion of her Housewifery and taste.” Places were found for looking glasses, lustres, sideboards, moreen curtains, and carpets. Sèvres china purchased at the Comte de Moustier’s sale, and Angoulème biscuit groups and figurines, and mirrored silver platters, acquired by Gouverneur Morris in Paris, were unpacked. The Morrises’ mangle—for wringing sheets—was the subject of some discussion before Mrs. Morris bore it off. Lear installed one that had served the Washingtons in New York.

  Lear had taken a bride from his native New Hampshire, Polly Long Lear, in April. They had lodged elsewhere in New York, but it was Martha’s wish that, at Philadelphia, they inhabit the presidential mansion. Polly was termed by Washington “an amiable, & inoffensive little woman,” but she was timorous. “Mrs Lear was in to see me yesterday,” wrote Abigail Adams to her sister, while Bush Hill, her own new residence in Philadelphia, was still in disarray, “and assures me that I am much better off than Mrs Washington will be wh
en she arrives, for that their house is not likely to be completed this year.”

  Despite these prognostications, the house on Market Street was habitable when the Washingtons took possession in late November. On the first floor a yellow drawing room in front served for more intimate occasions. The green drawing room measured thirty-five feet in length. On the ground floor the Washingtons breakfasted and usually dined in a blue room at the front. The weekly Thursday gathering, now commonly known as “the Congress dinner,” took place in the large dining room at the back. When not in use, the three Angoulème “groups” were housed there under large glass covers. “The Save [Sèvres] and Cincinnati China—the plate and other things which are not used common” were housed in a closet in the steward’s room opposite. Elsewhere in the house was a study at the back for Washington and a parlor for Martha. In their bedchamber Martha had a new bed installed. The children, the Lears, secretaries, and numerous servants were accommodated above.

  The Washingtons had been at some pains to assemble a household in Philadelphia to suit them. In September the president had named, among servants who should transfer from New York to Philadelphia, “the Wives of the footmen—namely James & Fidas. The Washer Women I believe are good.” He did not, however, wish for others: “the dirty figures of Mrs Lewis [kitchen maid and temporary cook in New York] and her daughter will not be a pleasant sight in view (as the Kitchen always will be).” Hercules, one of two cooks at Mount Vernon, traveled to Philadelphia instead.

  According to the later recollection of Wash Custis, Hercules was something of a dandy and liked to walk the streets, elegantly dressed, after serving the Thursday “Congress dinner.” Guests congregating in the new bay windows of the “public rooms” that abutted the kitchen block presumably found him a “pleasant sight in view.” Hercules’s son Richmond accompanied his father, Washington bowing, in September, to the cook’s “desire to have him as an assistant.” John Hyde, who had replaced Fraunces in New York, remained as steward, but the president was not enthusiastic: “I strongly suspect that nothing is brought to my table of liquors, fruits or other things that is not used as profusely at his.” Hyde must for the time being serve as housekeeper as well. In the northern city his wife had undertaken these duties: “superintending the women of the family in washing the linen—cleaning the house &ca—taking care of the linen of the family—preparing the desert for dinners—making Cake, tea & Coffee—and assisting Mr Hyde in such parts of his duty as lay within the house.” Mrs. Hyde told Lear in September she was no longer fit for work. Her health had given way, under the strain of serving “in so large a family.”

  The Washingtons observed in Market Street the same weekly routine as they had in New York. On Tuesdays the president held his levée at the house, and gentlemen mounting the staircase found him, dressed in his customary black velvet, in the green drawing room, silhouetted effectively against the light and illumined further by “lusters,” or chandeliers above. At Martha’s drawing rooms, as at New York, he wore no sword; nor did he carry a hat. This signified that he appeared in a private character and was, like others, a guest at his wife’s assembly. Once ladies had curtsied to Mrs. Washington, and were in circulation or seated on green damask sofas and chairs formally arranged around the room, they could hope that conversation with Washington would follow.

  General Montgomery’s widow, Janet, returning to New York after a period in Europe, expressed regret that the Washingtons no longer resided in that city. Replying in January 1791, Martha wrote, “I have been so long accustomed to conform to events which are governed by the public voice that I hardly dare indulge any personal wishes that cannot yield to that.” Philadelphia, however, suited both Washingtons very well. Grown in confidence, they no longer abjured “private life.” They dined in town and in the country with friends—the Morrises, the Powels, the Willings, the Shippens, and the Penns. In town the Washingtons and the children saw much of the Adams, Hamilton, and Knox families. Invitations to the presidential mansion were no longer confined to the public dinners. One gentleman, commanded to attend at an early hour, was disappointed by the simplicity of the Market Street breakfast. Nelly and Washington Custis were at table, and Mrs. Washington herself made the tea and coffee. Only one waiter, not in livery, was in attendance, the visitor remarked, and “a silver urn for hot water, was the only article of expense on the table.” There was not even fish offered, he complained, but only slices of tongue, “dry toast, bread and butter, etc.”

  In late March 1791, prior to embarking on a tour of southern states, Washington met on the Potomac with commissioners—among them David Stuart—appointed in accordance with the Residence Act of the previous summer. He consulted with them and with Andrew Ellicott and Pierre L’Enfant, surveyor and architect, respectively, for the new Federal City. Following skillful negotiations with the owners of land that fell within the proposed federal district, he proclaimed, on the thirtieth at Georgetown, the quadrilateral area it would occupy. Washington was a happy man. Mount Vernon, lying along the western bank of the Potomac only fifteen miles below the site of the future city, was greatly enhanced in value. Congress was to decree, however, that all public buildings in the Federal City were to be built on the Maryland bank of the Potomac, between Georgetown and the eastern branch of the river.

  Traveling farther south, Washington wrote to Lear that Paris, one of the slaves with duties as groom or postilion, had become “so lazy, self-willed & impudent, that John”—Fagan, coachman—“had no sort of government of him; on the contrary, John say’s it was a maxim with Paris to do nothing he was ordered, and every thing he was forbid.” Another slave, coachman Giles, was a permanent invalid. Washington wanted Lear to hire replacements in town—“low & squat (well made) boys, would suit best.”

  During his absence in the south, Edmund Randolph visited Martha. The attorney general, a fellow Virginian, informed her that “three of his Negroes had given him notice that they should tomorrow take advantage of a law of this State, and claim their freedom.” Pennsylvania’s Gradual Abolition Act, passed eleven years earlier, was the law in question. With some exceptions, “domestic slaves” belonging to citizens from out of state and who resided with their owners in Pennsylvania longer than six months by law became “freemen and Freewomen.”

  Among those excepted were “the domestic Slaves attending upon Delegates in Congress from the other American States, foreign Ministers and Consuls, and persons passing through or sojourning in this State, and not becoming resident therein.” Though the law had been amended in 1788 in a bid to prevent slave owners from rotating slaves in and out of the state, still, no exception to the six-month rule existed for “domestic” slaves belonging to members of the executive branch. While members of Congress could keep their slave servants with them as long as they liked, Washington and his cabinet enjoyed no such impunity. The attorney general’s slaves appear to have been among the first to have been led to an understanding of this.

  Randolph “mentioned it to her,” Lear wrote to the president on April 5, following the Virginian’s visit to Martha, “from an idea that those who were of age in this family might follow the example, after a residence of six months should put it in their power.” Washington, from the south, countered that he came into the category of those “passing through or sojourning in this State, and not becoming resident therein.” Randolph opined to Lear that this was a moot point: “there were not wanting persons who would not only give them (the Slaves) advice; but would use all means to entice them from their masters.” The attorney general gave this advice to the Washingtons, ignoring the 1788 amendment: “if, before the expiration of six months, they [the slaves in question] could, upon any pretence whatever, be carried or sent out of the State, but for a single day, a new era would commence on their return.”

  Martha and Lear acted. Scullion Richmond was dispatched by water the next day for Alexandria, and Lear told Washington on April 24 that he would hold out a lure to Hercules himself: “by being at
home before your arrival he will have it in his power to see his friends—make every necessary preparation in his Kitchen &c.” If Hercules declined to travel to Virginia, the secretary noted, it would be “a pretty strong proof of his intention to take the advantage of the law at the expiration of six months.” Lear was an efficient if unhappy agent: “no consideration should induce me to take these steps to prolong the slavery of a human being, had I not the fullest confidence that they will at some future period be liberated.” In his native New Hampshire such measures were slowly under way. He soothed his conscience. The slaves’ situation at Market Street, he believed, was “far preferable to what they would probably obtain in a state of freedom.” Martha herself, adaptable to much, was fiercely possessive of the slaves that were hers by dower right. They would pass, following her death, to her grandchildren. She had her own plans, Lear told Washington, for Oney Judge, her maid, and Christopher Sheels, footman, “which will carry them out of the State.” When she and the children visited members of the Dickinson family at Trenton, maid and footman went too. On the return of the party to Philadelphia, a “new era” of servitude began. Though it contravened state law, from now on the Washingtons observed a systematic rotation of their slaves in and out of Pennsylvania.

  The white servants and stable staff in Market Street posed other problems. Black Sam Fraunces returned to displace Hyde as steward. Martha, while Washington was in the south, hired a housekeeper, Mrs. Emerson. Her greatest difficulty, Lear wrote Washington, would be managing the other servants. Given the importance of their master’s office, they were all “impressed with an idea that they are the best Servants that can be obtained.” Yet insubordination was rife. With the aid of Mrs. Washington, Lear was confident that order would be restored before the president came north.