All the Sherlock Holmes stories are in the public domain (meaning, no longer protected by copyright). If you're interested in reading The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle, mentioned in this episode, here's a link.
[Transcript]
Hello, and welcome to America’s First Ladies. I’m your host, Risa Weaver-Enion.
Episode 1.9: President and Mrs. Washington
We left off last week with George riding from Mount Vernon to New York City to be inaugurated as America’s first president. Considering that he left a mere two days after receiving news of his election, it’s not super surprising that Martha didn’t go with him. They were essentially moving to New York for four years—you can’t just do that on a whim.
On the other hand, it’s not like George’s election as president was a surprise. Even though the election results weren’t certified by Congress until April, news of the unofficial results filtered out to the country throughout the winter. Martha surely knew George was going to be president and that they were going to have to move to New York. She could have started preparing months in advance.
The fact that she didn’t is in line with her general disinclination to go back into public service. But she knew it was her duty. In her letter to her nephew just after George left for New York, she added, “Our family will be deranged as I must soon follow him.”
George’s planned route to New York was published in all the newspapers, and he was mobbed by people at every stop, beginning at Alexandria, a mere 10 miles from Mount Vernon. Hundreds of people gathered to see him and wish him well. Bruce Chadwick writes in The General and Mrs. Washington,
“Crowds jammed every ferry stop he arrived at and lined the dirt highways that his carriage rolled down. Hundreds of cheering men, women, and children packed the village greens of tiny hamlets he traveled through, and tens of thousands filled the streets of cities. People shouted out his name with great joy and many just held their hands in the air, simply trying to touch the first president, the hero of the revolution, the great man.”
When he reached New York, the crowds were overwhelming. One eyewitness wrote, “he frequently bowed to the multitudes and took off his hat to the ladies at the windows, who waved their handkerchiefs and threw flowers before him, and shed tears of joy and congratulations. The whole city was one scene of triumphal rejoicing.”
On April 30, 1789, wearing a dark brown suit that had been made in Connecticut, George Washington was inaugurated into office as the first President of the United States of America. The ceremony took place on the balcony of Federal Hall in front of a large crowd in lower Manhattan.
Back at Mount Vernon, Martha was preparing for her move to New York to support and be with her husband, just as she had done throughout the war. Only this time, it was a more permanent move. Fanny was to be left in charge of Mount Vernon. Her husband George Augustine was already serving as the estate manager, but she would be responsible for the household. She had given birth to a daughter named Maria in March 1788, and her husband was getting sicker, so she had her hands full.
Martha left Mount Vernon on May 16, taking with her little Nelly and Wash, one of George’s nephews, and six slaves. She hoped for a quiet journey to New York. She did not get one.
Her travels were every bit as celebrated as George’s had been. Once again, the newspapers printed her route, and huge crowds turned up at every stop. In Baltimore, there was a large fireworks display in her honor. Outside of Philadelphia, a contingent including the governor, state officials, and a troop of horsemen met her and escorted her to the ferry.
She finally reached New York on May 27, and wild crowds gathered to welcome Lady Washington to the capital.
The presidential residence, which also served as the presidential office, was a modern house on Cherry Street, three blocks from the East River facing St. George’s Square. The house is no longer there, but in 1789 it was a three-story brick home with seven fireplaces and a pump and cistern for water in the yard. It must have been a wild improvement over the cramped quarters of winter camps during the war. Martha seems to have approved, writing, “The House he is in is a very good one and is handsomely furnished all new for the General.”
The house was on a busy street with lots of foot and wagon traffic traveling to and from the wharves along the river. Patricia Brady writes in Martha Washington: First Lady of Liberty,
“The sounds and smells of the neighborhood came through the open windows—ships’ bells, rumbling ironclad wheels of wagons on the way to nearby Peck’s market, stray dogs, horses, carriages, street vendors, hogs grunting and rooting in the open gutters, stevedores unloading ships on the riverfront. In the country, noises and voices were familiar, and the arrival of a carriage represented the height of excitement; in New York, everything was new, and strangers thronged the streets. The children were entranced, especially Nelly. Martha wrote home that she ‘spends her time at the window looking at carriages etc. passing by which is new to her and very common for children to do.’”
George and Martha were overwhelmed with visitors during the early days of the presidency. In a letter to David Stuart, George wrote, “I was unable to attend to any business whatsoever; for Gentlemen, consulting their own convenience rather than mine, were calling from the time I rose from breakfast—often before—until I sat down to dinner.”
Similarly, Martha wrote to Fanny two weeks after her arrival, “I have been so much engaged since I came here. I have not had one half hour to myself since the day of my arrival.”
It was clear that some boundaries needed to be established, and quickly. The main problem was that there was no existing protocol or precedent for any of this. Every single thing George and Martha did as President Washington and Lady Washington set a new standard.
George’s schedule was formalized such that visitors not on government business would be received from two until three in the afternoon on Tuesdays and Fridays. On Tuesdays from three until four, George hosted a reception, called a presidential levée. Any respectable-looking man could come see the president without an appointment during these receptions. They were very formal: George wore his hair powdered with a black velvet suit and dress sword. Each visitor was announced by the aides, and everyone remained standing. Once all guests had arrived, George would walk around the circle of men, greeting each one and chatting briefly. Then the guest would depart.
Referring to this reception as a levée was Alexander Hamilton’s idea, and would come back to haunt them in the future. The term levée referred to a French court ritual and was used in France and England to refer to a reception held after the king got out of bed in the morning. “Levée” literally means “raised” in French and is used to refer to rising from sleep. This would later be used against George by anti-Federalists like Thomas Jefferson and James Madison who thought George was tending toward too many royal behaviors. But we’re not there yet.
Martha was expected to host two official gatherings per week: a formal dinner party on Thursdays and a “Drawing Room” reception on Fridays. To her astonishment, when she arrived in New York on a Wednesday, she discovered that a reception for the Friday two days later had already been announced in the papers.
The Drawing Room receptions were held weekly whenever Congress was in session. Formally attired ladies could visit Martha without an appointment, along with their husbands, fathers, or other male escorts. We have an excellent description of one of these Drawing Room receptions from Abigail Adams, who was Second Lady because her husband John was vice president. Although, again, she wasn’t actually called that.
When Abigail attended the Drawing Rooms, she would be seated next to Martha. She wrote this description to her sister after one of the August receptions, “I found it quite a crowded Room. The form of Reception is this, the servants announce & Col. Humphreys or Mr. Lear, receives every lady at the door, & Hands her up to Mrs. Washington to whom she makes a most respectful courtesy and then is seated without noticing any of the rest of the company. The President then comes up and speaks to the Lady…The company are entertained with Ice creams and Lemonade and retire at their lesure [sic] performing the same ceremony when they quit the Room.”
The Thursday dinners were much more structured. Dinner began promptly at 4 pm and was never held back for a late guest, regardless of their position or rank. The guests were predominantly men, and sometimes exclusively men. Government officials, members of Congress, and foreign dignitaries made up the guest list. Martha usually sat at the head of the table, with George halfway down on her left. But if ladies were present, then Martha sat across from George.
The dinners were two courses. A guest at one of the dinners noted that the first course included soup; fish roasted and boiled; meats; gammon; fowls; and pickled and fresh vegetables. The second course was apple pies and puddings, iced creams, jellies, and more. Fresh fruits were served at the end, including watermelons, musk melons, apples, peaches, and nuts. Beverages included beer, cider, and wine with dinner, ending with Madeira for toasts.
The guest list for these dinners was tightly controlled to avoid any appearance of favoritism. There was usually a balance between northerners and southerners and between members of different political persuasions. Political parties weren’t technically a thing yet, but there were definitely political divisions. The old Federalist/anti-Federalist divide from the Constitutional Convention was still present.
This divide reared its head in many circumstances, including the discussion of what title the president should have. John Adams (who was a Federalist) thought something royal-sounding was appropriate, to convey the president’s authority. Titles such as His Highness and Excellency were suggested. One source says that George preferred His High Mightiness because that’s what the Elector of Holland was called. One anti-Federalist Senator fumed that they were “determined on…all the fooleries, fopperies, fineries, and pomp of royal etiquette.”
In the end, as you probably guessed, all the titles were rejected, and the House and Senate both voted to call the president Mr. President. Martha was to be known equally simply as Mrs. Washington, but the press and public continued to call her Lady Washington.
Aside from the Drawing Room receptions and Thursday dinners, Martha’s ability to socialize was severely curtailed. Once again, because this was all new territory, George was making things up as he went along and trying mightily to avoid any appearance of favoritism. To that end, he had it announced in the papers that he and Martha would neither host nor attend any private gatherings. That meant she couldn’t even dine or visit with her friends, which was a limitation on her life that Martha was not prepared for.
Martha’s fashion in these days was fine but not elaborate. A woman who attended a party with the Washingtons wrote to her mother, “Mrs. Washington was dressed in a rich silk, but entirely without ornament. Next to her were seated the wives of the foreign ambassadors, glittering from the floor to the summit of their headdresses…Such superabundance of ornament struck me as injudicious.”
Abigail Adams described Martha this way after their first meeting, “[she received me] with great ease & politeness. She is plain in her dress, but that plainness is the best of every article….Her Hair is white, her Teeth beautiful, her person rather short than other ways….Her manners are modest and unassuming, dignified and feminine.”
In a different letter, Abigail wrote, “A most becoming pleasantness sits upon her countenance & an unaffected deportment which renders her the object of veneration and Respect. With all these feelings and Sensations I found myself much more deeply impressed than I ever did before their Majesties of Britain.”
Not long after Martha arrived, George had a serious health situation. He developed a carbuncle on his left thigh. I had to Google this to find out what it is—turns out it’s a pus-filled mass that forms under the skin, usually when a hair follicle gets infected. Gross. Also, it had to be cut out of his leg. Without anesthesia. Yikes.
Side note: there’s a Sherlock Holmes story called The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle, but in that case, a carbuncle is a gemstone. I don’t know how we went from carbuncle meaning pus-filled mass in the 1790s to carbuncle meaning an unfaceted gemstone in the 1890s, but it’s interesting nonetheless. My bookshelf dictionary lists both as a meaning for carbuncle, which is insane. Those things could not be more different!
Anyway, the surgery was successful, but George was in agonizing pain during his recovery. There was some danger that he would die, and large crowds gathered outside the house on Cherry Street every day to hear news of his condition. He spent six weeks forced to lie down while the wound continued to drain. Even his carriage was altered to accommodate him lying down when he wanted to get out of the house. He continued working during his recovery, but his weekly levées and Martha’s Drawing Rooms were cancelled until he fully recovered. It would have been pretty awkward for him to try to receive callers while lying down.
Another of Martha’s priorities after arriving in New York was to arrange schooling for little Nelly and Wash. Although their tutor Tobias Lear was also in New York, he was serving as an assistant to George and was much too busy to continue his tutoring duties. Nelly was 10 and Wash was 8, and their discipline when it came to studying was a weird parallel to their dad Jack and his sister Patsy.
Jack had never been diligent with his studies, and neither was Wash. Whereas little Nelly, much like her Aunt Patsy, whom she never met, was a great student and loved learning and meeting new school friends. In the fall of 1789, Wash was sent to a small school where he could get a lot of attention, and Nelly went to a fashionable new boarding school as a day student. It’s not surprising that Martha didn’t want little Nelly to live away at school. She enjoyed having her grandchildren/adopted children at home with her.
Martha and George also took advantage of living in a city with lots of things to do. They took the children to see many strange exhibitions. There was Dr. King’s exhibition of orangutans, sloths, baboons, monkeys, and porcupines. A “speaking doll” that was suspended from the ceiling of a temple by ribbon and answered questions asked by the audience. And there was a waxworks exhibition that included likenesses of the British royal family.
Martha and George had always enjoyed the theater—you may recall during the war George gave special permission for the officers to stage plays in the winter camp to keep the soldiers’ spirits up. New York offered them a bounty of plays. One of their favorites was The School for Scandal, which they saw repeatedly. Patricia Brady in Martha Washington: An American Life writes, “One of the president’s more puritanical guests found the play, with its glittering dialogue, attempted seductions, and ill-natured gossip, ‘an indecent representation before ladies of character and virtue.’ That one remark says everything about the cultural differences between northern Presbyterians and southern Episcopalians.”
On the weekends, the family would ride around town in their coach, sometimes going out into the countryside. Sunday mornings they would go to church, and Sunday afternoons were usually spent writing letters and reading. George still had lots of ideas for improving Mount Vernon, and much like he wrote extensive letters to his cousin Lund during the war, now he wrote extensive letters to his nephew George Augustine. Martha also sent many letters to Fanny at Mount Vernon and to her remaining family members elsewhere.
After Congress adjourned in October, George set out to tour all the northern states. He wanted to listen to public opinion throughout the country. He took two aides and six servants and was gone about a month.
Their first Christmas as President and Mrs. Washington was spent at home in New York with family. Due to New York’s Dutch traditions (it had originally been founded as New Amsterdam, after all), New Year’s Day was a major holiday. There was a special cake, oddly called a “New Year’s cookie,” and a drink called cherry bounce, which was rum or brandy sweetened or flavored with cherries. Don’t ask me how they acquired cherries in the dead of winter. Maybe they had been soaking in the rum and brandy since the summer. Actually, that wouldn’t surprise me at all.
New Year’s Day fell on a Friday that year, so Martha’s weekly Drawing Room reception was packed to the gills with members of government, foreign dignitaries, and various citizens coming to pay the compliments of the season.
When Congress reconvened on January 4, 1790, George gave an address to describe the state of the nation—something we now know as the State of the Union Address. It’s actually constitutionally required, but the details aren’t specified. Article II, Section 3, Clause 1 states, “[The President] shall from time to time give to the Congress information on the State of the Union and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.”
George set a precedent by delivering the address in January; it continues to be delivered in either January or February in most cases. Until 1913, most presidents submitted their State of the Union in writing, but Woodrow Wilson renewed the tradition of presidents delivering their report in person in front of the whole Congress. The first time a newly inaugurated president delivers the address to Congress, it’s not an official State of the Union address, but it is delivered in person to the full Congress.
By February 1790, the house on Cherry Street was overflowing with residents as George took on more aides and secretaries to assist him with government work. One of the most elegant homes in New York became available when the tenant vacated it. Congress took a one-year lease on it, and the official residence and office of the President moved to Broadway Avenue. This was a more suitable location anyway, because the majority of government officials lived in this neighborhood, along with several foreign diplomats.
It was a four-story house with drawing rooms that were perfectly sized for the receptions held by the Washingtons. Their household also grew when Tobias Lear married his New Hampshire sweetheart, Polly, and brought her back to New York to live in the residence with him. Polly became a sort of social secretary for Martha, and was someone for her to have by her side as company on a daily basis.
Early 1790 was a challenging year for politics. First there was a heated disagreement in Congress over whether a national bank should be established, whether the federal government should assume the war debts of the states, and whether government securities should be issued to finance this debt. George and Alexander Hamilton were in favor of all of the above (in fact, Hamilton was the author of the entire plan), while James Madison and Thomas Jefferson were vehemently opposed.
By April, Madison’s group had won the battle, and then a new battle broke out over where to place the permanent capital. Hamilton, most New Yorkers, and most New Englanders wanted the capital to remain in New York. Another group was in favor of Philadelphia. And a third group, including Madison and Jefferson, favored a new city, one that would be built in the upper South.
Eventually, George, Madison, and Jefferson worked out a complicated arrangement whereby Hamilton’s financial plan would be adopted, the capital would be moved to Philadelphia for 10 years, and a site would be chosen along the Potomac River for the new capital to be built. George was to choose the site, and the capital would move there in 1800.
George had another health crisis in May 1790. On May 9, he noted in his diary that he had been at home all day with a cold. There was no entry for May 10 because he had developed pneumonia and was seriously ill. He had a high fever and was delirious at times. His doctors thought he might die. Everyone in the city was anxious on his behalf. On May 15, just when it looked like the end was near, his fever suddenly broke and the delirium lifted. By May 20 his doctors were assured enough to pronounce him safe and on the road to recovery. It took several weeks before George was fully recovered.
This was now the second serious brush with death the president had had, and he wasn’t even halfway through his term. As July 4 approached, George was looking forward to celebrating. He had missed the 1789 celebrations because he was still recovering from the carbuncle. But he was sufficiently recovered from the pneumonia this year to enjoy the celebrations.
In August, George made a quick trip to Rhode Island. He had skipped it on his tour of the northern states the previous fall because Rhode Island STILL hadn’t ratified the Constitution. But they finally did so in May 1790, so George wanted to make sure he included them in his tour, if belatedly.
Congress was now adjourned, so George and Martha took the opportunity to go home to Mount Vernon for a visit. Fanny had given birth to a boy named George Fayette earlier that year, and George Augustine’s tuberculosis was getting worse. They knew they would not be returning to New York after their visit home, because the capital was now going to be in Philadelphia. All the notable officials of the city and state, as well as the militia, turned up to escort them with pomp and ceremony from their house on Broadway to the river. As they boarded the presidential barge to cross the river, a thirteen-gun salute accompanied them.
They stopped in Philadelphia so they could check in on the house that was to serve as the presidential residence and office. It was the Morris mansion on High Street, where they had both spent time during their various visits and stop-overs in Philadelphia during the war.
George was delighted to once again be able to ride out on his land and look after the farming. And Martha was thrilled to spend time with Fanny and the rest of her family. Nelly and David Stuart came over with Betsy, Patty, and the six children they had together, and of course little Nelly (now 11) and Wash (now 9) were there too.
They spent three delightful months at Mount Vernon, during which time Martha finally prevailed on George to open up their social circle. Their attempts to avoid the appearance of favoritism hadn’t worked, because they were criticized no matter what they did. Some people thought they were too fancy; others thought they weren’t fancy enough. Someone was always unhappy with them, so Martha figured they might as well try to at least enjoy themselves along the way.
While they were at Mount Vernon George also took the opportunity to scout for a location for the new capital city. He chose part of Maryland at the southern end of the Potomac River, a site we now know as Washington, the District of Columbia.
Martha, George, Nelly, and Wash left Mount Vernon on November 22, 1790 and arrived in Philadelphia on November 28. Apparently the journey was a rough one: it was heavily raining so the roads were muddy, and the coachman was drunk. George made him drive one of the baggage wagons instead, which the drunkard overturned into the mud. And then to top it all off, when they finally arrived in Philadelphia, the renovations to the Morris house were not complete. Proof that contractors always miss their deadlines, even when the client is the president!
Tobias and Polly Lear had spent the summer months in New York, packing up that house and preparing everything for the move to Philadelphia. Polly was pregnant, and the whole family would reside with the Washingtons in the Morris house.
The Morris house was not in the most fashionable neighborhood of Philadelphia, but it had big stables, a garden for the children to play in, and room to hold official functions. There were two large public rooms on the ground floor, plus a butler’s pantry for servants. The second floor had two drawing rooms, a smaller yellow one for the family and small gatherings, and a large green one where Martha could hold the weekly Drawing room receptions.
The back part of the house was partitioned off for the private use of the family. Their bedrooms, the maids’ rooms, and a private study for George were all located here. The third floor had a room for the Lears, an office, and two rooms for secretaries. On the attic floor the housekeeper, and steward had rooms, as well as George’s valet and some other servants. The coachman and postillions lived in rooms above the stables. Also, a quick reminder that when I say “servants,” in most cases that means “slaves.” There were also some hired white servants. Pennsylvania had abolished slavery in 1780, but as usual, George and Martha had brought a number of slaves with them from Mount Vernon.
The abolition of slavery in the state was designed to be gradual. One provision declared adult domestic slaves to be free after residing in the state for six months. Interestingly, there was an exception for slaves belonging to members of Congress or foreign ministers, but the exception did not apply to members of the executive branch, such as the president.
When the Washingtons found out about this law in April 1791, after residing with their slaves in Pennsylvania for almost five months, they had a situation. Many of the slaves they had brought with them were dower slaves from the Custis estate. If they were freed by the Pennsylvania law, George would have to reimburse the estate for their value.
Rather than doing that, they took the low road. They contrived to send any slave that could be subject to this law away from Philadelphia and back to Mount Vernon for a short period of time on various errands.
It’s doubtful that anyone, including the slaves in question, was fooled by this tactic. A case could certainly be made by anyone who cared to try that all of the Washingtons’ adult domestic slaves brought with them to Philadelphia were legally freed by May 1791. But apparently no one cared enough to try to make that case. And for the time being, the slaves seemed content to participate in the ruse, but that wouldn’t always be the case, as we’ll soon see.
Next week, we’ll dive further into the Washingtons’ life in Philadelphia. They anticipated being there only for two years, until George’s term as president was up in early 1793. But they were in for a sore awakening when he was elected to a second four-year term.
Thanks for listening to this episode. It was produced by me. The music is by Matthew Dull. As we near the end of this season, I just want to say thanks to all of you who have left a rating or review. And if you haven’t done so yet, you still can, thanks!
