1
Young George Washington
The two men stood on the porch looking out into the cold Virginia night, conversing softly. "Well, Augustine, you are about to become a father again. How do you feel about it?"
"Humble, I suppose," Augustine replied. "Though Jane and I had children before she died, this child is Mary's first, and we have many plans for him. If it's a boy, we plan to call him George, after our sovereign."
"Ah, things will become different--quite different--I'll wager," said the other man, "between what you know of English royalty and what your George will know. You never were much of a hand to talk politics, and you seem not to care a hoot what becomes of these American colonies. If it is a boy, I predict that he will grow into a man who will take an interest in our conditions here. It would serve you right if he turned out not to be so loyal to the king he is going to be named after. But I will not bore you any more with such chatter.… We must talk and think of what a beautiful night it was last night. And that great white screaming comet that paled all the stars--how magnificent! This man Halley who calls himself an astronomer, his father boiled soap, made himself wealthy, and this son sees a comet--when was it? 1682--and predicts that it would show again seventy-six years later. By jove, he was right! It occurs to me that we won't either of us live to see the next one."
A Negro slave girl came running out upon the porch and cried, "Massa Washington, Massa Doctor, the time has come."
* * *
Four tranquil February the twenty-seconds passed over the Bridge Creek plantation, adding years to Augustine's life, new cultivated acres to his plantation, and numbers to his slaves. Mary was fond of commenting on her young son's precociousness. "He's very much different from the others," she said often to her patient husband.
"And what do you mean by different?" asked Augustine, smiling.
"Oh, he's much larger than most boys of that age," she returned earnestly. "He has a violent temper. Runs away into the woods every chance he gets. They found him stark naked on several occasions. Seems to hate his clothes and to be washed clean. He does so many queer things like squatting on the ground and watching a hole. There are so many things, all normal I think, but different from what I have observed in other children."
"Mary, that is not so different from other boys," observed her husband thoughtfully, divided between amusement and gravity. "He's your only child, and it's quite natural that you should imagine little George is reserved for some special and noble place in the world. I hope so. We will need great men in the troublesome times ahead."
"Augustine, you are always predicting a dark future for the colonists. Nothing has happened to worry us since George was born. We are certainly better off, and you have more leisure than ever. In fact, too much leisure. I think you take Lawrence hunting and fishing too often, and I am worried because little George shows undue interest in those idle pursuits."
"Mary, the best foundation for a youth in this country is to learn the ways of the woods and water. American boys will be dependent on their guns and fishing poles for a living. I would be very glad if George took to the woods like an Indian. There is much to learn from the Indians."
"But we hear more and more all the time about the growing hostility of the Indians and their fraternizing with the French. I certainly don't want George learning anything from those red men."
The oldest son Lawrence entered the big sitting room, bringing with him the odors of the woods. He was now eighteen years old, a tall, sallow young man, not robust and strong.
"Mother, what do you think George has been doing?" he asked in a pleasant voice.
"Oh, gracious me, I have no idea," she returned in excitement. "Tell me."
"Well, it appears that George's slave, William, turned his back a moment, and George made off into the woods. When William found him he had fallen into Muddy Slough. It was quite deep water, but what do you think? The young rascal didn't drown. Maybe he was too fat to sink. Maybe he held to some bushes or something. William was too frightened to observe what kept him up. He fished George out and fetched him back home. I saw them when they came past the barn. George was a sight to behold but not in the least concerned. He's a great youngster."
"I fear he must be punished," murmured Mary, as she left the room.
"So you think your little stepbrother is a great youngster?" inquired Augustine, with keen eyes on Lawrence.
"I certainly do," returned the young fellow heartily. "I always was fond of George, and lately I have been paying more attention to him. He interests me more than my own brothers. When he gets a little older I will surely make a chum of him."
"Lawrence, that's fine," said the father feelingly. "Only don't wait. He's big enough now to learn the ways of outdoors. His mother will not approve and surely she won't allow us to take George on any camping trips, but begin to teach him what you can. Precocious or not, he's not quite old enough for his letters yet, but a youngster is never too young to get his first lessons in outdoors."
"Father, that boy is old for his age. He stole my fishing pole and hid it in the bushes. When I taxed him about it, he did not commit himself, but when I found it, he frankly said he put it there. George is clever and deep, but he's honest."
Mary paused in the spacious dining room and gazed at the picture of her father which hung above the mantelpiece: a noble picture of a man whose stature equaled his qualities. She had always been convinced that little George looked more like her father than anyone else. And it had been her secret prayer that he would inherit those qualities which her parent had possessed. During the prolonged months while she waited for George to come, her imaginative and dreamy nature had come to have full sway. She did not believe that she was unduly foolish or sentimental; yet there was something she felt but could not explain. Her own mother, and other women who had confided intimately with her, had related natural ambitions and hopes for their offsprings; however, no one she knew had ever been so possessed before the birth of her child with the fantasies and songs of her inmost soul which seemed to have had their origins in the convictions that her son had been born for an unusual and great life.
The few timid overtures she had made to her husband that might have led to full confession had always been inhibited by his amused tolerance and convictions of his own about his son. He wanted George to be a hunter, fisherman, planter, and a good subject to the King. Mary believed secretly that, loyal as the colonists were, the time would come when they would want to make their own lives and their own state, but she had never dared speak her mind.
She went out across the yard and looked everywhere, calling George. She finally found him at the woodpile, busily tearing it down. He was a sight to behold: soaked from head to foot, with a bloody scratch on the back of his leg. Along with Mary's serious thought about him, she felt a thrill at his size and energy. At the moment he had none of the handsome attributes which she took so much pride in.
"George," she called severely, halting behind him. "What are you doing?"
The urchin ceased tearing at the sticks of wood and turned around. He had wiped the mud from his face, but it was still streaked and stained. "I'm chasing a chipmunk," he replied.
"Did it occur to you that the chipmunk might have a nest in there and might have young ones?" she asked.
"I didn't think about that. I jest wanted to ketch him."
"Well, George, you may desist in your play and listen to me. I do not need to be told that you have disobeyed me and fallen into Muddy Slough."
"Mother, I didn't promise I wouldn't fall in, an' William took me."
"How did it come that William let you fall into the water?"
"It was my fault, Mother. I said I'd sit still while he went for fishing worms. An'--an' I didn't."
"Why didn't you?" queried his mother reprovingly.
"I don't know. I saw a little turtle, an'--an' then I forgot."
"You slipped in the water, of course, and then what happened?"
"I held to the bushes an' waited for William."
"Did you cry out--call for him?" she inquired wonderingly.
"No. I wasn't scared."
"George, you will have to be punished for this," she cried.
He gazed up at her with clear apprehensive eyes. Then he dropped his head.
"You understand, of course, that William will have to be punished too."
"But he didn't do nothin'," protested the lad.
Mary, hands trembling, broke off a switch from a nearby bush. She had never punished George before. He watched her with steady, unflinching eyes.
"George, if you promise not to do it again, the punishment will not be so severe. Will you promise?"
"Mother, I promised before an' I did it anyhow, so I won't promise."
She laid hold of her unresisting boy, and, with her heart mounting to her throat, she switched him over his bare leg. As she had never done this before and was under stress, she must have struck harder than she had any idea. He grew stiff under her hold but did not resist or cry out. When she saw welts coming upon his legs, she desisted.
"Now, sir, do wash yourself and put on clean clothes. You are to stay in the house, but you will not get any supper tonight."
As she let him go, he ran off swiftly around the back of the house. It was then as she stood holding the switch, remorseful in spite of herself, that she heard him hollering. That relieved her somewhat for it was her opinion that children who did not cry when they were whipped were not normal. As she turned to go in, she saw William dart from behind the shed where evidently he had watched the performance, and the fleeting glimpse she had of his face showed that he was frightened. She would consult Augustine about what kind of punishment to mete out for William. What she did not feel at all right about ...
