Mary Ball Washington

by Craig Shirley

  Through a series of letters to Governor Dinwiddie, George led and commanded: strictly, emphasizing morality and discouraging profanity, with an infraction swiftly punished. He believed the “protection of Providence” kept his thousand-strong regiment safe.25 In short, he was orderly, calling for obedience . . . much like his mother.

  WITH HIS MILITARY SUCCESS IN THE OHIO, WASHINGTON WENT HOME AGAIN to Mount Vernon, to stay. Soon after, he married a lovely young woman, widowed once, by the name of Martha Dandridge, in 1759, only a few months after resigning his military commission, to the shock of many.

  Mary, the strong and loving mother, could not have been happier. But it wasn’t for George’s sake.

  Characteristically filled with spelling and grammatical errors, her short letter to her brother in England in late July, 1759, read: “I have known a great Deal of trouble sinc [sic] I see you[,] thear [sic] was no end to my troble [sic] while George was in the Army butt [sic] he has now given it up.”26 A glaring omission is the pride that she may (or may not) have felt for her son. Instead, it’s—again, characteristically—focused on herself, at least on the surface. It was “my trouble” not “his trouble,” though this could be read as either self-centered or selfless, because Mary was careful to cloak her frustrations in faux-humble language. Perhaps “my trouble” was not her inconvenience at his leaving; perhaps, like a decade earlier, it was her worry about his safety. It’s true that when George came home to Mount Vernon, he didn’t just come home closer to her, but he came home to peace and quiet, away from war and savagery. Maybe Mary even believed that her concern was truly for George’s safety, not for her own feelings.

  But there was also no mention or hint of Martha, six months married to George at this point. No mention of his heroics or his fame or his honor. Such things did not matter to Mary. For a small error-filled note, it was surprisingly telling of her older personality. Washington biographer James Flexner wrote that this letter “epitomizes the lack of sympathy or understanding that had made George find Ferry Farm an unhappy place once his father had died.”27

  Whatever relationship they had started to unravel.

  THE SEVEN YEARS’ WAR IN EUROPE ENDED IN 1763 WITH THE DEFEAT OF THE French and Holy Roman Empires. The British and their allies had won. In North America, the French relinquished all of their possessions east of the Mississippi River to the British, expanding the land beyond any colonists’ wildest dreams. It ended whatever hopes France had for colonial expansion in America, making the British Empire the dominant overlord in the New World.

  For now.

  THE HOME LIFE OF MARY WASHINGTON, AWAY FROM HER OLDEST SON, WAS something of a routine. “Method became, with her, almost a mania,” according to historian Sara Pryor. She never appeared late to church; she had her morning, noon, and evening plantation bells echo through the area exactly on time, so much so that “neighbors set their watches by” them. It was a strict observance of time that was clearly passed on to her son, which carried through into his later life, even as president, who was noted to be faultlessly punctual.

  One neighbor who knew her reported that “Mrs. Washington never failed to receive visitors with a smiling, cordial welcome.” However, “they were never asked twice to stay, and she always speeded the parting guest by affording every facility in her power.” Pryor did suggest it was simply the manners of a host not to discomfort her guests by awkwardly forcing them to stay.28 The quantity of food that was provided to guests—which came directly from the self-sufficient farm—was “incredible,”29 especially the meat and bread. Robert Beverley, writing in The History and Present State of Virginia from 1705, described colonial Virginian food as “regaled with the most delicious fruits, which, without art, they have in great variety and perfection. . . . A kitchen garden don’t thrive better or faster in any part of the universe than there.” Decades later, the growth and production of meat, fruit, and grain only increased in quality and quantity from the fertile Virginian land like Ferry Farm.30

  When not managing the plantation or the children, Mary slept in the rear hall chamber, which contained a bed, a cabinet, a tea table, four chairs, two windows and accompanying window hangings, a trunk, and other miscellaneous items. A fireplace kept her warm during the brutal winters. The 1743 appraisal of the house valued all items in the room to be worth over 19 pounds, a hefty amount.31

  One relationship in her life that early biographers ignored was Mary’s connection to the slaves. Who they were or where they came from made little matter; their purpose was the smooth management of her land, much like her father’s and her father’s father’s time before.32 She had multiple slaves throughout Ferry Farm, and in fact became a slaveholder with her father’s death at the early age of three. Perhaps it was a formidable instrument to her later years. “From her earliest memories, she was the owner of other human beings,” said Michelle Hamilton, historian and manager of the Mary Washington House in Fredericksburg, near Ferry Farm. “Her mother and then her half sister Elizabeth would have instructed Mary on how to be a mistress, how to command respect, how to manage others. This would have developed in Mary her iron will that we see in her as an adult.”33 Slaves were no exception to this “iron will,” and receiving these other human beings at such a young age may have diluted the moral importance of them. To Mary at age three, they were servants, maybe even people to play with. But they did what she said.

  “In her dealings with servants, she was strict,” said Douglas Freeman. “They must follow a definitive round of work. Her bidding must be their law.”34 But there is no contemporary record of her slave keeping or slave management. The lack of note, especially living so close to the port, is good proof of her being a “by the book” owner. If you were strict or excessive in abuse, it was talked about.35 Betty, her only surviving daughter, also had no qualms of historical note with her servants, except for the usual runaway once or twice. If Mary taught Betty to be cruel like herself, there would’ve likely been a record of it.36

  Tradition said that one overseer, after doing some unknown task his way and not Mary’s, was scolded. “Madam,” he said to the mistress, “in my judgment the work has been done to better advantage than if I had followed your directions.”

  “And pray,” she replied, angrily, “who gave you the right to exercise any judgment in the matter? I command you, sir; there is nothing left for you but to obey.”37

  The relationship between slave and mistress came to a head toward the end of 1750 when the slave Harry murdered Tame, another of Mary’s slaves. He went to trial, which concluded on September 7 of that year. The King George County court records said thus:

  Harry a negro slave belonging to Mary Washington of this county—being brought [out] of gaol [jail] and upon an Inditement arranged at the Bar for the murder of Negro Tame a man slave also belonging to the said Mary Washington Plead not guilty. The Court upon hearing the witnesses and duly considering the case of opinion that the sd Negro Harry is guilty of the said murder said in the said indictment and [thereupon] do order that the said Harry do return to the Gaol [jail] from which he came, and the Sheriaf on Wednesday the 10th day of October next, take him thence and carry him to the place of execution and then and there to hang him by the neck until he be dead.

  Harry was executed on schedule, and Mary, now short two slaves, was reimbursed 35 pounds from the county for her troubles and the loss of property.38 The murder of slaves or slaves committing murder was not an uncommon occurrence, noted the Virginia Gazette several times, often with a flat, distant tone denoting no more than their monetary worth. Right below many announcements were advertisements of slaves for sale at varying prices, with the same businesslike tone.39

  Less than a year after the murders, other slaves—in this case, indentured servants—stole property. The story went that George was swimming in the Rappahannock, and two servants, Ann Carroll and Mary McDaniel, were accused of stealing his clothes. Both were tried. Carroll was “discharged,” according to court records,
and McDaniel was found “guilty of petty Larceny,” and immediately was to be taken “to the Whipping post & Inflict fifteen lashes on her bare back.”40

  These two incidents, though only two, may have vindicated how others saw a woman leading a family and owning land. Laura J. Galke wrote, “The Fredericksburg community likely viewed such tragic events as proof of an unsupervised woman’s inability to manage a plantation.”41 Indeed, many women remarried for just such a reason: they didn’t know how to manage a farm.

  Whisperings and rumors of failure at Fredericksburg probably did not have much impact on the isolated life of Ferry Farm. The tobacco transports at the Rappahannock came and went without any regard to Mary’s own schedule. In a July 1760 letter to her brother Joseph in England, she wrote, defensively, “You seem to blame me for not writeing to you butt I doe ashure you that it is Note for want for a very great regard for you and the family, butt as I don’t ship tobacco the Captains never call on me, soe that I never know when tha com or when tha goe.”42 The letter, riddled with misspellings, showed a woman who had no education or had no need to correct her writing. Even for an age with no standardized spelling, Mary wrote in an uneducated, unmannered way. She had her life settled at the farm, no need to impress beyond necessity.

  Isolated she may have been, but Mary understood her social status as both a widow and a Washington near Fredericksburg. She may have dabbled in embroidery or tambouring, which would have solicited visitors to admire her skills and works. One tambour hook discovered on Ferry Farm, placed in the cellar between 1741 and 1760, may have been used by either Mary or Betty, or both, and contained a bone handle and steel hook, and was heavily decorated with designs.43 Archaeological findings of 1740s- and 1750s-styled teapot stands, silver teaspoons, and ceramic tea cups and saucers indicate a social life to some degree, even if Mary insisted on independence. “Mary’s frequent purchases of English-made tea wares throughout her life also highlight her determined efforts to communicate her family’s refinement and fashionability using sensibly priced and unassuming ware types,” theorized Laura Galke. She continued, saying that it is without a doubt—based on the discovery of a teaspoon with the inscription of “BW”—that Mary also placed these social customs on her children, especially Betty.44 Her uncle Joseph Ball even provided silverware for the young Betty as far back as 1749; “I have sent you by your brother Major [Lawrence] Washington a Tea Chest,” he wrote to her. “And in it Six Silver Spoons, and Strainer, and Tongs of the same.” Even authentic British green tea was given to her. “As soon as you get your chest you may sit down and drink a Dish of Tea,” he promised.45 This indicated a clear interest in keeping her reputation, despite whatever financial or isolationist manners she had.

  Mary’s other children also matured and grew up, though with not nearly the attention placed on George by both Mary and historians. Elizabeth, nicknamed Betty, Mary’s first daughter, married Fielding Lewis on May 7, 1750. Betty, Mary’s only surviving daughter, would have bonded with her mother in typical eighteenth-century activities for women, including sewing and embroidery.46 George genuinely enjoyed her company. They got along so well and were so much alike, it had been passed on, that if she wore his clothes and bundled up her hair under a hat, they looked identical.47 Fielding, with a lazy left eye that he wasn’t ashamed of showing in portraits, was a well-known plantation owner and Fredericksburg retailer and friend of the Washingtons. His first marriage to Catherine Washington, the daughter of George’s cousin John, lasted a little over three years, until her death.

  The relationship of Fielding Lewis and Mary Washington went back years before he married her daughter, Betty. Fielding’s first child, John, was born on June 22, 1747, and among the many godparents to the little boy was Mary herself.48 Her religious ferocity would have made this as important a role as raising her own children.

  Samuel Washington, born only two years after George, lived in Chotank. He married up to five times, a year apart from each of his wives’ deaths. He was a sore sibling to George on his lifestyle. “In Gods name how did my Brothr Saml contrive to get himself so enormously in debt? Was it by purchases? By misfortunes? or shear indolence & inattention to business?” Washington wrote in January 1783, far in the future.49 Samuel settled in Berkeley County (now in West Virginia), and died in 1781, forty-seven years old, having become a colonel in the Continental Army.

  John Augustine Washington was George’s favorite sibling. He “was the intimate companion of my youth and the most affectionate friend of my ripened age,” George wrote to Henry Knox many, many decades later, soon after John’s death.50 John married Hannah Bushrod and went to Westmoreland County.51 Evidence suggests a nice relationship with his mother, Mary, who affectionately called him “Johnne” and wished love to his family. An undated letter from her opened, “I am very glad to hear you and all the family is well,” giving a sense of familiarity to her son’s family.52

  Only scant facts can be learned about the youngest Washington, Charles. He outlived all the Washingtons except George, dying only three months before his oldest brother. Charles’s children, especially George Augustine, were a delight to the elder George.53 Charles lived from 1760 to 1780 just steps from his mother, so he must have felt her presence at times. He had married a cousin, Mildred Thornton, the daughter of a prominent but not-as-prominent family in the region, and had all his children in the house. He was a vestryman of Saint George’s Church. Afterward, he settled in Berkeley County, building his home Happy Retreat, in the present and eponymous Charles Town.

  There is little record of Mary’s treatment of her younger sons. They were neither the oldest nor the heir; perhaps they didn’t receive as harsh care or want from Mary. They weren’t as successful as George, even before the Revolution, and they weren’t as sought after as he was. Samuel took part in the Revolutionary War, so perhaps her fear of losing not only her son George but her son Samuel weighed heavily on her. Her son Charles, as her youngest, may have been her favorite—the youngest child typically is, stereotypes say. He was supposedly an alcoholic (appropriate, then, that his home was converted into an unnamed tavern in 1792 and remained so into the 1830s). Michelle Hamilton called him the “black sheep” of the family, though Katie King, manager of the Rising Sun Tavern (Charles’s former home), was hesitant to damn him so. “Charles couldn’t have done so bad for himself, because he did manage to sustain his property, and then moves out to Happy Retreat.” It wasn’t debilitating so much that he “lost fortune.”54 He also probably had the best relationship with his brother-in-law, Fielding, even in business partnerships. Such a close-knit relationship could have hit a soft spot for Mary.

  None so occupied her time and mind as George, though.

  THE 1760S MOVED BY QUIETLY AND QUICKLY FOR MARY AT FERRY FARM. THE thirteen colonies, and Virginia in particular, were undergoing a boost of population, growth, and prosperity. “It was high noon in the Golden Age!” wrote Sara Pryor. “Life was far more elegant and luxurious than it was even fifteen years before.”55

  George had a life of his own, as did Mary’s other children. They all left her at Ferry Farm. No correspondence between her and her eldest has been discovered from this decade. George still saw her, although extremely rarely after 1760. He visited for the night at his mother’s in early January 1760. It was snowing, though the wind, strong to the southwest, was “not Cold,” he noted. He stayed the night and the following morning, and overnight the snow turned to a mix of sleet and rain.56 Six months later, he returned to Fredericksburg, and received 1 pound, 3 shillings, and 9 pence from a John Gist for some unspecified smithwork for his mother, but a few transactions and his diaries provide the only information.57 He stayed at Fredericksburg during the Christmas of 1763, and again visited his mother in March 1769, where he gave her 3 pounds cash. He returned to see her in early November of that year.58

  In the 1760s, she went from a woman in her fifties to one in her sixties, a major shift in a demographic and a milestone in its own right. Sh
e was a grandmother to many small children, none of which came from George. And she continued to stay at Ferry Farm as nearby Fredericksburg bustled with excitement and expansion. She presumably kept contact with the city, keeping in mind her social status as a Washington, not to mention her additional fame being the mother to George. In December of 1766 and 1767 there were musical concerts and balls, both hosted by John Schneider for a small price of 7 shillings and 6 pence. Violins, tenor, bass, flutes, horns, and harpsichords provided ample opportunity to dance and entertain. Mary, being a grand dancer—certainly, her son inherited that trait—could have easily passed these evenings as the mature madam dancing with men of all ages, young and old.59

  But she probably preferred the solitude of home, being alone but not lonely. “Mary Washington was too busy to be lonely,” opined historian Virginia Carmichael. Older she may have been, but energetic she was, and she kept her plantation at Ferry Farm in working order.60 It helped both her and her farm that Fielding Lewis and his wife, Mary’s own Betty, were nearby.

  SO HER LIFE PASSED IN HOME FARM. THERE, “THE SEASONS MOVED ROUND into place, each as full as it could hold of duties and responsibilities, but full, too, of the content that comes only after strife.”61 Winters were brutal but the fireplaces provided warmth. The summers, too, were brutal: hot, in which case the trees provided shade. One of her most prized possessions, a fan, also did the job of keeping her cool. It was an import, from Asia, probably China. Its boxed case, also well used, was designed with swastikas, a holy symbol for some East Asian religions. To Mary, it was nothing but an eye-pleasing decoration, but one that was fancy enough for her status and practical enough to use; she kept it.62