[Transcript]
Hello, and welcome to America’s First Ladies. I’m your host, Risa Weaver-Enion.
Episode 1.5: The Lady Washington
We left off last week just after Jack Custis married Nelly Calvert, and shortly after Patsy Custis died of an epileptic seizure. In between Patsy’s death in June 1773 and Jack’s marriage in February 1774, a very important event took place. One which all my American listeners will recognize: the Boston Tea Party.
Without taking too much of a detour, let’s talk about the Boston Tea Party and what led up to it.
You may recall in the previous episode I outlined a series of acts Parliament imposed on the colonies—collectively known as the Townshend Acts because Charles Townshend was the Member of Parliament who sponsored them. Import taxes were implemented on all sorts of things, including lead, glass, paper, paint, and tea. The residents of Boston were perhaps the most incensed by these taxes, and they spearheaded a boycott of British goods as a protest against the taxes. The Bostonians also committed a great deal of harassment and vandalism against British officials and merchants who continued to import and sell British goods.
In response to this, the colonial administrators requested additional protection, and in the early months of 1770, Parliament sent British troops to Boston under the Quartering Act. If you’ve ever wondered why the Third Amendment to the U.S. Constitution prohibits the quartering of soldiers in a house without the consent of the owner—well, this is why that’s there. Colonists were required to put up with British soldiers taking over their houses. The British soldiers raised the tension level in Boston, and this eventually led to the event known as the Boston Massacre, but honestly, that name is not a good representation of what actually happened.
The British soldiers did not line up a bunch of protesters and shoot them point blank, which is how it’s depicted in a famous engraving made by Paul Revere. What actually happened is that there was a mob of protesters threatening a sentry at the Customs House. In order to help the sentry, a captain led seven British soldiers over to the Customs House. As they were taunted by the mob, one of the soldiers was jostled by the mob and fired his musket. Then the other soldiers, hearing the musket fire, thought a general order to fire had been given, so they opened fire. In total, five protesters died, and the captain and seven soldiers were arrested. Many months elapsed before their trial, during which time the colonial rabble-rousers, Samuel Adams chief among them, set their propaganda machine to work and cast the incident as a massacre.
I promise I’m getting to the Tea Party. After the so-called Boston Massacre, all the import duties were lifted, except for the one on tea. The Quartering Act was also repealed, and the British troops left Boston. But the tax on tea really irritated the colonists, so on the night of December 16, 1773, a group of radicals known as the Sons of Liberty dressed up like Mohawk Indians, boarded a British ship docked in Boston Harbor that carried a shipment of East India Company tea, and dumped the crates of tea overboard into the harbor.
The incident was originally called The Destruction of the Tea, which sounds way less fun than the Boston Tea Party. It only came to be known as the Boston Tea Party in the early 1800s, as the event gained legendary status in American history. And here’s a fun fact for you: nine days after the Boston Tea Party, on December 25, 1773, there was a Philadelphia Tea Party. But it was much less destructive. Rather than throwing the crates of tea overboard, the protesters merely prevented a ship from docking and caused it to return to England. I find it pretty hilarious that Philadelphia’s tea party was so dainty compared to Boston’s.
So. What does any of this have to do with Martha Washington? Admittedly, not that much. But it is important background context for the events that are going to unfold next. In response to the Boston Tea Party, which Britain rightfully viewed as an act of treason, they introduced a new series of acts that were known in the colonies as the Intolerable Acts. As part of the Intolerable Acts, the British closed Boston Harbor, which cut off Boston, and most of New England, from all trade.
This created an uproar throughout the colonies, and was more or less the straw that broke the camel’s back as far as George Washington was concerned. Up until that point, he and Martha had remained loyal British subjects and had no intention of rebelling against the Crown. But after the Intolerable Acts were passed, George wrote that they were “an unexampled testimony of the most despotic system of tyranny that was ever practiced in a free government.”
George Washington and fellow Virginian George Mason organized another boycott and called for a national day of fasting for June 1, 1774, the first day that Boston Harbor was scheduled to be closed. In response to this, the royal governor of Virginia dissolved the House of Burgesses and the burgesses met instead at a local tavern. If this all sounds familiar, it’s because basically the same thing had happened in 1769 during an earlier colonial protest against taxation without representation. But this time, things went much further.
Massachusetts had called for a Continental Congress to meet in Philadelphia in September 1774, and all the colonial newspapers carried word of this. The Virginia burgesses, George Washington among them, held a Virginia Convention in August and nominated seven delegates to represent Virginia at the Continental Congress. George was one of those seven delegates.
The purpose of the Continental Congress was to discuss a collective response to the growing encroachment of Britain. The night before leaving for Philadelphia, two other Virginia delegates, Patrick Henry and Edmund Pendleton, dined and spent the night at Mount Vernon. Pendleton wrote, “I was much pleased with Mrs. Washington and her spirit. She seemed ready to make any sacrifice and was cheerful though I knew she felt anxious. She talked like a Spartan mother to her son on going to battle. ‘I hope you will stand firm—I know George will,’ she said. The dear little woman was busy from morning until night with domestic duties, but she gave us much time in conversation and affording us entertainment. When we set off in the morning, she stood in the door and cheered us with the good words, ‘God be with you gentlemen.’”
Philadelphia was the largest and most elegant city in colonial America, so it made sense for this historic gathering of colonial representatives to gather there. In addition to daily meetings of the delegates, there were a number of dinners and balls, as well as outings to the theater. George made it a point to get to know as many delegates as possible, including John Adams, a delegate from Massachusetts. When the Congress was finished, Patrick Henry was asked who the key players had been. He replied, “If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is by far the greatest man on that floor.”
The Continental Congress lasted two months, and the delegates agreed to enter into a joint non-importation, non-consumption, and non-exportation association, as well as to prepare addresses on their grievances to present to the King. They also agreed to meet again the following May, in 1775.
George returned to Mount Vernon on October 30. Upon his return, he was asked to command a local militia group based in Alexandria. Similar militias were forming throughout the colonies. Tensions in Virginia were increasing. Colonists were beginning to divide themselves into Loyalists, or Tories, who were still loyal to King George and Parliament, and Patriots, or Whigs, who were ready to take any measures necessary to preserve Americans’ perceived rights. Watching this rising division, many slaves decided that they stood a better chance with the Loyalists, and there was a rumor that Britain would free them, because the anti-slavery movement within England had grown quite large by this point.
On April 19, 1775, the first shots were fired in what would become the War of American Independence, aka the Revolutionary War. Two Massachusetts militia companies engaged British soldiers in the towns of Lexington and Concord. The Americans killed and wounded 269 British soldiers, while the militias had only 90 dead or wounded. The British retreated into the city of Boston and were hemmed in by a growing force of militia that eventually reached nearly 20,000 men. The Siege of Boston had begun.
On May 4, 1775, George Washington left Mount Vernon to ride to Philadelphia once again as a Virginia delegate to the Second Continental Congress. Bruce Chadwick put it nicely in his book, The General and Mrs. Washington, “Washington rode away from his beloved Mount Vernon that morning in May of 1775 as a little-known Virginia businessman, and he would not return home for six long years. When he did, it would be as the most famous man in the world on the eve of a battle that would change the course of history.”
When George left Mount Vernon that day, Martha had no reason to expect him to be gone any longer than he had been for the First Continental Congress the previous autumn. She had many things to deal with in his absence, running the plantation household, keeping up with the never-ending stream of guests, and helping her 16-year-old daughter-in-law Nelly prepare for the birth of her first child, Martha’s first grandchild.
It’s probably not a coincidence that George rode to Philadelphia wearing his old colonel’s uniform from his days as a British colonial regimental soldier. He wore it throughout the convention and volunteered to serve on a congressional military committee that was charged with deciding how to fight the British. Their other assignment was to name a commander-in-chief for the American forces.
It’s presumed that George and Martha discussed the possibility of military action before he left Mount Vernon. After all, shots had already been exchanged in Lexington and Concord, and it was likely that direct confrontation would escalate. It was logical that he could be put in charge of all of Virginia’s militia, not just his local militia, because he was the only Virginian with substantial military command experience.
But did either of them ever expect that George would be put in charge of the whole Continental Army? It’s hard to say for sure, but probably not. It’s also hard to say whether he wanted the job. He never asked for it. But by parading around the Continental Congress in his military uniform, he was subtly campaigning for it. He had no desire to leave Mount Vernon, Martha, and Jack & Nelly, but he also was the most logical choice as commander of the combined colonial forces.
One of the other candidates was John Hancock, who was from Massachusetts and was serving as president of the Congress, but he had no military experience. Another was Charles Lee, but he was British, for god’s sake. He had military experience because he had been in the British Army, but he had a thick English accent and an abrasive personality.
George Washington was the obvious choice for another reason: he was from Virginia, which was the largest and richest colony. Massachusetts could not stand up to the British on their own and they needed the conflict to involve all of the colonies. Having George Washington as commander in chief would help bring the southern colonies into the fold.
When George accepted the command, he also announced that he would not take any salary for the position, no matter how long he stayed in it. He asked only for his expenses to be paid. Considering how long the war dragged on, he probably lived to regret that decision, even though he never admitted as much. It’s also a pretty good example of George’s high-mindedness. He was in debt, he had started another construction project at Mount Vernon before leaving for the Second Continental Congress, and trade with England was at a standstill. He really could have used whatever little money Congress could pay him in salary. But he thought it was more honorable to decline any salary. Pfft.
George knew Martha was not going to be happy that he had accepted command of the Continental Army. I’m going to quote extensively from the letter he wrote her on the occasion, because it’s one of the few we have at our disposal.
“Philadelphia June 18, 1775
My dearest,
I am now set down to write you on a subject which fills me with inexpressible concern—and this concern is greatly aggravated and increased, when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give you. It has been determined in Congress that the whole Army raised for the defence of the American Cause shall be put under my care, and that it is necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the command of it.
You may believe me my dear Patsy, when I assure you, in the most solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment I have used every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its being too great for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real happiness in one month with you at home than I have the most distant prospect of finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years.”
Methinks the colonel doth protest too much. He obviously knew Martha was going to be angry with him, and yet, he accepted anyway.
George encouraged Martha to go visit her relatives in southern Virginia, and basically to do whatever would make her happiest during his absence. He also wrote to Martha’s brother-in-law Burwell, asking him and his wife (Martha’s favorite sister Nancy) to visit her and convince her to spend some time with them in the south.
In the end, Martha decided to stay at Mount Vernon. George had expressed some hope of being able to return to Mount Vernon by the fall, which was only a few months away. Spoiler alert: it was a lot longer than that.
On June 17, 1775, the Americans and the British had fought the Battle of Bunker Hill (which technically was fought on Breed’s Hill, but I’m trying not to get too deep into the weeds of Revolutionary War history here). Casualties were heavy, with the American killed and wounded totalling 441, and the British 1,150. In the end, the colonial militias retreated, making the battle a technical victory for the British, but at a heavy loss of men.
Two weeks later, on July 2, 1775, George Washington left Philadelphia and rode to Cambridge, Massachusetts, just outside Boston, to take command of the combined colonial forces.
In September, Martha was at Mount Airy with Jack and Nelly when Nelly gave birth to a baby girl who died nearly immediately. None of the biographers provide a name for this child, so she probably died so quickly that Jack and Nelly didn’t have time to give her a name.
During this same period, there was a fairly serious threat against Martha’s safety. Because Mount Vernon was positioned on the banks of the Potomac, and because the Potomac was a large, navigable river, it was easy to sail right up to Mount Vernon from Norfolk Harbor. This was advantageous when it came to delivering goods ordered from England in more peaceful times, but now it meant that a British warship could sail up to Mount Vernon and kidnap Martha.
The former royal governor of Virginia had abandoned Williamsburg at the start of the war, and was living on a ship in Norfolk Harbor. He ordered several British warships to sail up the Potomac, burn Mount Vernon and George Mason’s plantation home Gunston Hall, and capture Martha Washington.
Martha was at first determined to stand her ground at Mount Vernon, but she did eventually leave for two days after receiving an emergency communication from George Mason. There’s no word on where she stayed for those two days, but she returned to Mount Vernon after receiving another note that the British had retreated back to Norfolk Harbor. Some combination of bad weather and a large militia had convinced the British to abandon their kidnapping plot. It doesn’t appear that any future kidnapping attempts were made.
While all this was going on, George was attempting to create a cohesive national army out of a collection of regional militias. Congress had named four Major Generals to serve under George. All of them had military experience from the French and Indian War. He also began assembling a staff of aides-de-camp; these were officers who assisted him in writing and filing letters, carrying orders and confidential messages, entertaining guests, and discussing ideas and strategies. They would come to be known as George’s “family.”
For the first few months, George still planned to go back to Mount Vernon for the winter. War was not a year-round situation back then. Most major engagements took place during the months with good weather, and each side stayed relatively quiet in winter camps each year. Depending on the weather, “winter” camp could last all the way through spring.
In many cases, the officers of an army would return home to see their families while the enlisted men stayed in the camps. But by October 1775, George had realized that if he left camp, it would all fall apart. The militias were barely holding together as it was. These were regular citizens, not professional soldiers. Most of the men had enlisted for short periods of time; after all, they had families and farms or businesses to look after back home. As soon as their enlistments were up, they headed out. Coordinating departing men and incoming men was a big job, one that George felt he personally needed to be present for.
So instead of going home to Mount Vernon, he wrote to Martha and asked her to join him in the winter camp at Cambridge. While the idea of soldiers’ wives coming to join them at an army encampment in the middle of a war sounds strange to our modern ears, it wasn’t really that unusual in the 18th century. Again, because the fighting more or less paused for the winter, it was reasonably safe for non-combatants to be present in camp.
George sent letters to Mount Vernon constantly, both to Martha and to his cousin Lund Washington, who was managing the plantation. If you think the U.S. Postal Service has delivery issues now, you would have hated to see the shambles it was in in 1775. The mail service was transitioning from the Royal Mail to a new continental service. Benjamin Franklin was actually the postmaster general.
On October 22, 1775, Lund received a packet of letters from his cousin, dated October 2nd, 7th, and 9th. One of these was George’s letter to Martha asking her to join him in camp. But Martha was no longer at Mount Vernon. She had left on October 17 to travel south with Jack and Nelly. They visited George’s mother in Fredericksburg, then George’s sister Betty and her husband Fielding Lewis. They reached their destination of Nancy and Burwell’s home at Eltham on October 28.
Lund sent George’s letter forward to Martha at Eltham. She debated whether or not to join George in Massachusetts. On one hand, it was very far to travel, and traveling in bad weather was insanely difficult in those days. And Nelly was still recovering from the death of her infant and could use all the comforting Martha could provide. But there was a development that made up Martha’s mind for her.
A pro-British newspaper had printed an article claiming that Martha was not with George in Cambridge because she was “a warm loyalist” and had left George and was living in New York under the protection of the British Army. There was a second article, also completely fabricated, that George had had an affair with a servant girl while he was in Philadelphia. Taken together, that was enough to convince Martha that she had to go to Cambridge, as a show of support for George, her marriage, and the American cause.
Martha, Jack, and Nelly left Eltham on November 6 and headed back to Mount Vernon. Martha was not one to throw a few clothes in a bag and run out the door for a trip. She spent nearly a week making sure she had all the necessary supplies for the long journey to Massachusetts. Finally, on November 16, 1775, Martha, Jack, and Nelly set out for Cambridge. Jack was serving as his mother’s escort, and Nelly was happy for a change of scenery.
George’s nephew, George Washington Lewis, was also on the journey. He was going to join George’s personal guard when they arrived in Cambridge. They also picked up another passenger along the way, Elizabeth Gates, the wife of Horatio Gates, who was the adjutant general of the Continental Army. They also took several of the household slaves with them.
George had made all the necessary arrangements for Martha’s long trip north, arranging accommodations along the way either with friends or at inns. At every stop they made, people came out to see or greet the carriage. Martha was used to being well-known among a tight-knit circle of Virginia planters. She was not prepared to be recognized by strangers. And she was even less prepared to be celebrated by strangers.
Americans had begun celebrating George as a patriotic icon, a national symbol to replace the King. People were naming their children George Washington, and poems were being written about him. His portrait was much in demand, and soon, so was Martha’s.
Somewhere along her journey north, people started referring to Martha as “the Lady Washington.” It seems that with George Washington heading the “capital C capital A” Continental Army, his wife needed a grander title than simply “Mrs.” Martha was apparently not a fan of being called Lady Washington—it probably felt too grand for her—but the papers loved it, and they used the title constantly.
On November 21, Martha and her party reached Philadelphia. As Bruce Chadwick writes, “The patriots there greeted her as if she were a visiting queen from an important European country. Just outside the city, she was met by a company of finely dressed horsemen led by Joseph Reed, a friend of George’s…The local newspapers trumpeted her arrival as her carriage made its way through Maryland and Delaware. The prominent families of Philadelphia had arranged a grand ball in her honor. Martha had no idea that her husband’s elevation to commander in chief of the army would make him, and her, national celebrities overnight. She was astonished, writing to friend Elizabeth Ramsey, ‘I don’t doubt but you have seen the figure our arrival made in the Philadelphia papers—and I left it in as great pomp as if I had been a very great somebody.’”
Martha Washington was nothing if not humble.
In the end, the ball was canceled, because the organizers forgot that a resolution had been passed banning frivolous entertainments in a time of crisis. Basically, it was the sort of thing the royals would do, and the patriotic Americans wanted to avoid anything that seemed too royalist.
Martha spent a week in Philadelphia, staying with Joseph Reed and his wife Esther. After traveling 450 miles over hard roads in just a few days, they all needed some rest. They departed Philadelphia on November 28, traveled through New Jersey, Connecticut, and Massachusetts, finally arriving in Cambridge on December 11, 1775.
In her book Martha Washington, First Lady of Liberty, Helen Bryan sums up just how important this journey was for the morale of the new nation, “There were many people all too ready to undermine George through Martha. Allegations of Loyalist sympathies on Martha’s part in the prevailing political atmosphere of 1775 would have been extremely difficult to refute directly and could easily have become George’s Achilles’ heel. Martha’s sense of image and timing, demonstrated so successfully on the trip north from Mount Vernon, was both deeply ingrained and finely tuned. She instinctively fell back on the lessons she had absorbed from childhood about the importance of image, and to some extent the message of clothing. It was a peculiarly Virginian thing. Using a combination of carriage, livery, postillions, homespun, the family coat of arms, artlessly good manners, and a display of wifely devotion strong enough to carry her a thousand miles in the dead of winter, accompanied by her son and daughter-in-law in a show of family support, she enhanced the image of the commander in chief by showing herself to be a model consort.”
Next week, we’ll join the Washingtons in Cambridge for that first winter of the war.
Thanks for listening to this episode. It was produced by me. The music is by Matthew Dull. If you have a chance to rate or review the podcast in Apple Podcasts or Spotify, that will help me reach new listeners, thanks!
