XVI. 1789. CHAPTER of the magnitude of the trust confided to him, the struggles his mind had undergone in deciding to accept it, and a consciousness of his deficiencies, he added; “In this conflict of emotions, all I dare aver is, that it has been my faithful study to collect my duty from a just appreciation of every circumstance by which it might be affected. All I dare hope is, that, if in accepting this task I have been too much swayed by a grateful remembrance of former instances, or by an affectionate sensibility to this transcendent proof of the confidence of my fellow citizens, and have thence too little consulted my incapacity, as well as disinclination for the weighty and untried cares before me, my error will be palliated by the motives which misled me, and its consequences be judged by my country with some share of the partiality in which they originated." With these sentiments, and with fervent supplications to the Almighty Being, whose guidance and overruling Providence he acknowledged in all the events of his life, he commenced the arduous duties of chief Refuses com- magistrate of the nation. In conformity with the rule to his services. which he had hitherto adhered, he gave notice to Congress, that he should accept no other compensation for his services, than such as would be necessary to defray the expenses of his household and other charges incident to his public station. pensation for Examines the reports of the heads of departments. As the various departments of government under the new system could not be instituted, till Congress had passed laws for their organization and support, the business belonging to these departments continued to be transacted by the officers, who had previously been charged with it. Mr. Jay acted as secretary of foreign affairs, and General Knox as secretary of war. The treasury was under the control of a board of commissioners. The President requested from each of them an elaborate report, that he might become acquainted with the actual state of the government in all its foreign and domestic relations. These reports he read and condensed with his own hand, particularly that from the treasury board, till he made him XVI. 1789. self master of their contents. In regard to foreign affairs, CHAPTER he pursued a still more laborious process. With pen in hand he perused from beginning to end the official correspondence, deposited in the public archives, from the date of the treaty of peace at the termination of the war till the time he entered upon the Presidency. These voluminous papers he abridged and studied, according to his usual practice, with the view of fixing in his mind every important point that had been discussed, as well as the history of what had been done. affairs. Among the private reasons, which had disinclined him His private to leave his retirement at Mount Vernon, were his growing attachment to agriculture, and his desire to pursue the system adopted for the cultivation of his farms. Since the war he had devoted himself with equal delight and constancy to this pursuit, and brought his plans into a train, which promised the most satisfactory results. He had procured from Europe the works of the best writers on the subject, which he read with diligence and reflection, drawing from them such scientific principles and practical hints, as he could advantageously use in improving his modes of agriculture. He was resolved to mature his designs, and in the intervals of public duties to bestow a part of his leisure upon that object. With his chief manager at Mount Vernon he left full and minute directions in writing, and exacted from him a weekly report, in which were registered the transactions of each day on all the farms, such as the number of laborers employed, their health or sickness, the kind and quantity of work executed, the progress in planting, sowing, or harvesting the fields, the appearance of the crops at various stages of their growth, the effects of the weather on them, and the condition of the horses, cattle, and other live stock. By these details he was made perfectly acquainted with all that was done, and could give his orders with almost as much precision as if he had been on the spot. Once a week regularly, and sometimes twice, he wrote XVI. 1789. Directions to the manager of his farms. CHAPTER to the manager, remarking on his report of the preceding week, and adding new directions. These letters frequently extended to two or three sheets, and were always written with his own hand. Such was his laborious exactness, that the letter he sent away was usually transcribed from a rough draft. A press copy was taken of the transcript, which was carefully filed with the manager's report for his future inspection. In this habit he persevered with unabated diligence through the whole eight years of his Presidency, except during the short visits he occasionally made to Mount Vernon, at the close of the sessions of Congress, when his presence could be dispensed with at the seat of government. He moreover maintained a large correspondence on agriculture with gentlemen in Europe and America. His letters to Sir John Sinclair, Arthur Young, and Dr. Anderson, have been published, and are well known. Indeed his thoughts never seemed to flow more freely, nor his pen to move more easily, than when he was writing on agriculture, extolling it as a most attractive pursuit, and describing the pleasure he derived from it and its superior claims not only on the practical economist, but on the statesman and philanthropist. Rules for re ceiving and company. The President had not been long in New York, before entertaining he found it necessary to establish rules for receiving visiters and entertaining company. There being no precedent to serve as a guide, this was an affair of considerable delicacy and difficulty. In the first place, it was essential to maintain the dignity of the office by such forms as would inspire deference and respect; and, at the same time, the nature of republican institutions and the habits of the people required the chief magistrate to be accessible to every citizen on proper occasions and for reasonable purposes. A just line was therefore to be drawn between too much pomp and ceremony on the one hand, and an extreme of familiarity on the other. Regard was also to be had to the President's time and convenience. After a short experiment of leaving the matter to the discretion of the public, it was proved, that without some fixed rule XVI. 1789. he would never have an hour at his disposal. From CHAPTER breakfast till dinner his door was besieged with persons calling to pay their respects, or to consult him on affairs of little moment. His sense of duty to the claims of his office, and to himself, convinced him that this practice could not be endured. The Vice-President, Mr. Jay, Mr. Madison, Mr. Hamilton, and other gentlemen, concurred in this opinion, and by their advice a different mode was adopted. Every Tuesday, between the hours of three and four, he was prepared to receive such persons as chose to call. Foreign ministers, strangers of distinction, and citizens, came and went without ceremony. The hour was passed in free conversation on promiscuous topics, in which the President joined. Every Friday afternoon the rooms were open in like manner for visits to Mrs. Washington, which were on a still more sociable footing, and at which General Washington was always present. These assemblages were in the nature of public levees, and they did not preclude such visits of civility and friendship, between the President's family and others, as is customary in society. On affairs of business by appointment, whether with public officers or private citizens, the President was always ready to bestow his time and attention. He accepted no invitations to dinner, but invited to his own table foreign ministers, officers of the government, and strangers, in such numbers at once as his domestic establishment would accommodate. On these occasions there was neither ostentation nor restraint, but the same simplicity and ease with which his guests had been entertained at Mount Vernon. No visits were received on Sundays. In the morning he uniformly attended church, and in the afternoon he retired to his private apartment. The evening was spent with his family, and then an intimate friend would sometimes call, but promiscuous company was not admitted.* * For an account of his religious opinions and habits, see APPENDIX, No. IV. Also, Washington's Writings, Vol. XII. p. 399. Ceremoni ous and so cial visits. CHAPTER XVI. 1789. Seized with a dangerous illness. Death of his mother. August 25. Having laid down these general rules, which soon became known to the public, he found relief from a heavy tax upon his time, and more leisure for a faithful discharge of his duties. In the course of the summer, however, he was seized with a violent malady, which reduced him very low, and which for a few days was thought to endanger his life. He was confined six weeks to his bed, and it was more than twelve before his strength was restored. A constitution naturally strong, and the attendance of Dr. Bard, a physician equally eminent for the excellence of his character and skill in his profession, enabled him to rise from an illness the most painful and trying that he had ever endured. From the effects of it he never entirely recovered. He had hardly gained strength to go abroad, when he heard of the death of his mother, who died in August, at the age of eighty-two. Writing to his sister on this occasion he said; "Awful and affecting as the death of a parent is, there is consolation in knowing, that Heaven has spared ours to an age beyond which few attain, and favored her with the full enjoyment of her mental faculties, and as much bodily strength as usually falls to the lot of fourscore. Under these considerations, and a hope that she is translated to a happier place, it is the duty of her relatives to yield due submission to the decrees of the Creator." A short time before he left Mount Vernon for New York, he made a visit to his mother at Fredericksburg, the place of her residence. She was then sinking under a disease, which he foresaw would prove fatal; and he took an affecting and final leave of her, convinced he should never see her again. She had been a widow forty-six years. Through life she was remarkable for vigor of mind and body, simplicity of manners, and uprightness of character. She must have felt a mother's joy at the success and renown of her son, but they caused no change in her deportment or style of living. Whenever he visited her at her dwelling, even in the height of his greatness, he literally returned to the scenes |