• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 25780 0

Washington how he would miss “your constant company and conversation in which I have been so long happy.”21 Stewart’s letter confirms Washington’s high stature in Virginia, for he hoped that his friend would “continue the darling of a grateful country [i.e., Virginia] for the many eminent services you have rendered her.”22 Twenty-seven officers from the Virginia Regiment banded together to laud Washington in a farewell message. They extolled the same virtues that would be praised in the Revolutionary War and showed the same tender affection as their later counterparts. They hailed Washington’s “steady adherence to impartial justice” and “invariable regard to merit,” and they credited his “honor and passion for glory” as the source of his military achievements. They also eulogized him as “an excellent commander,” “sincere friend,” and “affable” companion.23 These were mighty tributes to bestow on a twenty-six-year-old. So while Washington might have alienated assorted politicians and generals, he retained the unswerving fealty of his men and the Virginia public at large.

Beneath the hard rind, Washington was far more sensitive than he appeared, and this heartfelt message from his men “affected him exceedingly,” he admitted.24 He had a fine sense of occasion, displayed in this early response to his men. Already adept at tearful farewells, he exhibited the succinct eloquence that came to define his speaking style. He began by calling the officers’ approval of his conduct “an honor that will constitute the greatest happiness of my life and afford in my latest hours the most pleasing reflections.”25 Unable to avoid a youthful dig at Dinwiddie and Forbes, he hinted at the “uncommon difficulties” under which he had labored. But it was the palpable affection he summoned up for his men that made the statement noteworthy. Washington thanked his officers “with uncommon sincerity and true affection for the honor you have done me, for if I have acquired any reputation, it is from you I derive it. I thank you also for the love and regard you have all along shown me. It is in this I am rewarded. It is herein I glory.”26

Had Washington’s military career ended with the French and Indian War, he would have earned scarcely more than a footnote in history, yet it is impossible to imagine his life without this important preamble. The British Empire had committed a major blunder by spurning the talents of such a natural leader. It said something about the imperial system that it could find no satisfactory place for this loyal, able, and ambitious young subject. The proud Washington had been forced to bow and scrape for a regular commission, and it irked him that he had to grovel for recognition. Washington’s military career would be held in abeyance until June 1775, but in the meantime he had acquired a powerful storehouse of grievances that would fuel his later rage with England.

In the fullness of time, Washington would win a prize infinitely more valuable than the royal commission he had lost. As a member of the British forces, he had begun to articulate a comprehensive critique of British fighting methods in North America. For a young man, he had acquired an amazing amount of experience, and these precocious achievements yielded a lasting reservoir of self-confidence. He had proved his toughness and courage in the face of massacres and defeats. He had learned to train and drill regiments and developed a rudimentary sense of military strategy. He had shown a real capacity to lead and take responsibility for fulfilling the most arduous missions. Perhaps most important, his experience in the French and Indian War made him a believer in a strong central government and a vigorous executive. Forced to deal with destructive competition among the colonies, dilatory legislative committees, and squabbling, shortsighted politicians, he had passed through an excellent dress rehearsal for the prolonged ordeal of the American Revolution.

PART TWO

The Planter

The earliest known portrait of Martha Washington, painted by John Wollaston in 1757,