Washington’s Southern Tour

The author of this sumptuous volume has achieved a high reputation as a mathematician, a biographer, and a historian. The versatility of his literary pow ­ers, and the wide reach of his intellectual sympathies, have been demonstrated by his ability to describe with equal ease Einstein’s subtle theory of relativity, the caustic whimsical ­ity of Bernard Shaw, and the awful majesty of Washing ­ton. In the work before us, he reproduces, with absolute fidelity to life, the Father of his Country as he leisurely pursued his august journey from State to State and city to city in the South, in the memorable spring of 1791. The narrative is a remarkable specimen of the most skilful lit ­erary patchwork both in the method of its composition and in its variety. From a hundred different sources, public and private, such as the dusty files of old journals, the pages of letters yellow from age, the records of municipal councils, the minutes of military and civic associations, the stray reminiscences of local autobiographers, the floating traditions of city and county communities;—from all these and the like Dr. Henderson, with tireless industry, nice dis ­crimination, and a fine sense of humor, has gathered up a mass of illuminating facts and delightful gossip, which he has woven into a charming volume of rare historical value.

If at any point, the story grows slightly thin and dis ­jointed the fault lies, not with the author, but with the pov ­erty of the only authorities open to him in that particular section of his narrative. Perhaps, this occasional defect is also partly due to the repetition of substantially the same events in the course of a journey similar in its general char ­acter throughout; partly too, perhaps, to the wholesome but monotonous simplicity and uniformity of the social life in the Southern States in those times. But taking the volume as a whole, we cannot recall another which presents with the same entertaining clearness the essential features of that extensive region at the close of the eighteenth century such as the rivers, the forests, the roads, of the rural districts, the kinds of crops that were grown in the fields, the varied abundance of domestic supplies, the unlimited hospitality of the people, their instinctive courtesy, their fervent local patriotism, their gallantry and sturdiness of spirit, their social steadiness and conservatism. The profound reverence which they showed for their illustrious guest was but an in ­dication of their respect for integrity and courage in gen ­eral, and their admiration for noble public service.

The progresses of rulers are usually planned, either to win popular applause, or to enjoy the pleasure of a change of scene. But no such motives as these were at the bottom of Washington’s tour. If he was impelled by any feeling besides a patriotic desire to quicken the people’s interest in the national government, and to strengthen it in public es ­teem, it was a laudable wish to learn all about the contem ­porary condition of Southern agriculture by actual inspec ­tion. As he passed along, his practised eye noted, and his diary recorded, the physical features of each region which he traversed, the nature of its crops, and the quality of its soil.

It was natural enough that his arrival should everywhere arouse an emotion of extraordinary curiosity and enthusi ­asm. Had not his sword been the most powerful instrument in securing the independence of the country? Was he not, as its first President, its civic founder? Was he not com ­pletely identified with his hosts by liis ancestry, his birth ­place, and his domestic life? Did he not, in common with the great majority of them, have his home far from any town? Was he too not a planter? And was he not also, after their own manner, devoted to rural sports and employ ­ments? His personal mien and carriage, when they actually saw him, were such as to deepen the impression which these well known facts had already created by hearsay: his figure tall and commanding, his countenance solemn but be ­nevolent, his bearing dignified and even majestic, his words grave and thoughtful.

The state in which he travelled increased his prestige, owing to the aristocratic spirit of that day. His “chariot” as it was called, was drawn by four stout horses driven by a fat Hessian coachman, with black postilions, in red and white, to guide the leaders. The two doors of the vehicle, and its back and front, were painted with designs of the four seasons; and the fourth quarter pannels were blazoned with the Washington coat of arms. The solid body of the coach was brightly gilded, while the door handles, buckles and heraldings around the edges of the roof, all of which were of plate, shone like polished silver. A light baggage wagon and five saddle horses followed closely behind. There were five ordinary servants and one valet in attendance; and as they were all dressed in the same conspicuous livery, they gave another dash of color to the procession.

The Tour began in earnest at Fredericksburg, the home of his mother and his sister, Mrs. Lewis, and the scene of his boyhood. From this point, he started upon his daily journey at six o’clock in the morning, and sometimes as early as four o’clock. An escort of private citizens always, and occasionally an organized body of cavalrymen, insisted on accompanying him some distance on his way, in spite of his polite protest against this disquieting attention, for, owing to the dust kicked up by the horses’ hoofs, it was difficult to see the road, either ahead or behind, through the cloud that befouled everything that it settled upon. He stoically en ­dured this nuisance until he reached Petersburg. But there, to put a stop to its recurrence, he, in a moment forgetful of the immortal lesson of the incident of the hatchet and the cherry tree, instructed his secretary to spread the report that, next morning, he would depart “before eight o’clock,” but when the usual cavalcade arrived at his inn about that hour they were told that he had left at six. As six o’clock really comes “before eight o’clock,” the prevarication was, perhaps, not so serious after all, although some of his bi ­ographers have thought it necessary to defend it with Jesuit ­ical sophistry. After that first morning, however, nothing was gained, for his equestrian supporters continued to ap ­pear punctually day after day. He only escaped them when he took to the water. He did this on three occasions, namely, when he was drawing near Wilmington, Charleston, and Savannah respectively. His boat, as he descended or crossed the rivers flowing by these cities, was manned by American sea captains dressed in blue silk coats or white jackets and black satin breeches, and wearing round hats trimmed with gold lace or decorated with blue ribbons.

His arrival was everywhere saluted with volleys and fusil ­lades, in which volunteer companies and regular batteries vied with each other in making the greater noise. Not satis ­fied with this, the toasts at the banquets given him were often accentuated by a discharge of cannon. Indeed the explosion of a cannon alone could do justice to the grandiose sentiment of some of these toasts. One for instance, hailed Washington as the Great Aloe, a flower which was the very acme of splendid perfection in the minds of those admirers.

Unfortunately, Washington did not possess an undis-criminating appetite, as some of his hostesses at private en ­tertainments soon found out. At Co’onel John Allen’s, near Tarborough, the table groaned under the weight of such tempting dishes as roast pig, roast turkey, fried chicken, country ham, sausage, eggs in every style, waffles, batter-cakes, hot biscuits. The chief guest looked around and quietly asked for one hard boiled egg, and a cup of coffee, with a little rum in it! And yet he is known to have com ­plained to a Carolinian hostess that she gave him no griddle cakes. And there is still a delightful tradition in one fam ­ily of Southside Virginia, with whose ancestors he dined during this tour that he had warmly praised the pudding. Observing, as he approached Wilmington, in North Caro ­lina, that the city was surrounded with swamps, he gravely asked his host, after his arrival, “Where do the people ob ­tain their water?” “I don’t know, sir,” was the reply. “I have not drunk any water for forty years.” It is said that Washington made no further inquiry about the local water supplies during the rest of his tour.

He was very careful to enter in his diary the number of ladies who were present at the balls given in his honor in all the cities and towns through which he passed. That number, on one occasion at least, was as large as four hun ­dred. This was at the famous ball which the Corporation of Charleston gave soon after his arrival in that gay and wealthy capital. He recalled with pardonable complacency that, at a brilliant entertainment held at Governor Pinck-ney’s home, each lady wore a handsome bandeau, upon which was painted the President’s portrait, entwined with the National Colors. His formal dress on these gala occasions was worthy of the beauty and distinction of his companions, and of his own noble presence. It consisted of the richest black velvet with silk stockings and golden knee and shoe buckles. In his hand, he carried a cocked hat, adorned with a cockade and a flowing black feather. A long slender sword, with a finely wrought steel hilt, encased in a scabbard of white polished leather, was suspended from his left hip. He wore handsome yellow gloves.

But neither the fascinations of charming women, nor the homage of municipalities and civic and military associations, nor the applause of the people at large, nor the agricultural appeal of the great plantations, could divert Washington from his intention of carrying out, with the most scrupulous fidelity, the itinerary which he had drawn up at Mount Ver ­non before he started. “I performed the journey of 1887 miles,” he wrote David Humphreys after his return, “with ­out meeting with any interruption by sickness, bad weather, or any untoward accident. Indeed, so highly were we fa ­vored that we arrived at each place where I proposed to make a halt on the very day I fixed on before we set out. The same horses performed the whole tour, and although much reduced in flesh, kept up their full speed to the last day.”