Martha Washington (14 page)

So far, not too bad for Jack. The brief final paragraph of the letter tells it all: “At all times when you, Mrs. Calvert, or the young Ladies can make it convenient to favour us with a visit we should be happy in seeing you at this place. Mrs. Washington & Miss Custis join me in respectful Compliments.” Martha was clearly in favor of the match; she and Patsy were agog to meet the girl who had captured their darling Jack's interest.

Jack rode off to Annapolis to deliver the letter to Mount Airy personally—happy, no doubt, that the engagement was at least provisionally accepted and looking forward to spending more time with Nelly. A week later, he returned with Calvert's answer. His prospective father-in-law had no intention of letting such a big catch off the line. And, to do him justice, he may also have seen how much they loved each other. He acquiesced in the decision to postpone the marriage for the time being but made it clear that he was holding Jack to his promise. Because he had ten children to provide for, Nelly's dowry would be “inconsiderable,” but their happiness, he declared, was more important than financial considerations. In fact, “Nothing in my power shall be left undone to promote so pleasing an Union.” He ended by inviting them all to visit at Mount Airy and promising that he would bring his family to Mount Vernon soon.

On Saturday, April 10, Jack delivered this letter and another from his schoolmaster avowing his ignorance of the clandestine courtship, no doubt to his stepfather's simmering disapproval and his mother's and sister's happiness. The next day was Easter Sunday. When the family went to church at Pohick, Jack probably thanked God that his strike for freedom had succeeded so well.

The next day, George and Jack went up to the Annapolis races, primarily to visit Mount Airy and begin building a new family relationship. When George returned, he could reassure his wife that the Calverts were highly respectable and the lovely Nelly “of exceeding good Character”—not that Martha seems to have had any doubts about the matter. Before she ever set eyes on the girl and very much against her husband's wishes, she had agreed to the engagement and informed Nancy Bassett happily of the event. In a letter on the same day to Burwell, George acknowledged Martha's approval, adding, “I shall say nothing further therefore on the Subject,” before saying a great deal more about Jack's immaturity and lack of knowledge.

On April 24, Elizabeth and Benedict Calvert arrived on a return visit with their two eldest daughters, Betsy and Nelly. The importance of this visit in Martha's eyes can be seen in the trouble they took to invite distinguished dinner guests, including Lord Fairfax, to meet the Calverts. In effect, this was an engagement party, as Jack and Nelly were introduced as an affianced couple. Young friends from the neighborhood had also been invited for dancing in the evenings. After four days of enjoyable entertainments and informal companionship, the families were on easy terms.

But George persevered in his fruitless attempts to make Jack over. After being allowed to visit his sweetheart twice more, Jack was hauled off to New York City to attend King's College. He and his stepfather rode away on May 10, stopping often on the journey to visit and be entertained by friends and acquaintances from Maryland to New York. Jack was duly installed at college with his usual special privileges, including his servant and horses.

Stopping again at Mount Airy on his way home, George no doubt pressed Martha's urgent wish for a visit from Nelly during Jack's absence; he arrived home on June 8. After three days of anticipation, Nelly arrived accompanied by a Calvert family retainer. Not only sweet and charming, Nelly was a dark beauty of the same type as Patsy Custis. They were about the same age and could have passed for sisters.

As usual, the house was full of company, including Patsy's doctor on one of his regular visits. After he left, George thought she was “in better health and spirits,” her mood probably lifted by Nelly's presence. During the first week of Nelly's stay, visitors came and went for dinner or the night, including Jack and Hannah Washington with two of their children, giving Martha the chance to introduce her son's fiancée to the family. One scorcher of a day followed another. Except for attending services at the new Christ Church in Alexandria, Martha and the girls stayed close to home, probably sitting in the wide hallway, the doors at either end open to create a breeze, chatting, sewing, and getting better acquainted.

Saturday, June 19, continued hot and dry, and they probably spent the day indoors. After a convivial family dinner, they all rose from the table sometime between four and five o'clock. Patsy and Nelly were talking about Jack, and Patsy went into her bedroom to get his latest letter. There she was seized with “one of her usual Fits.” Nelly ran to her and shouted for help. Her mother and stepfather hurried in, and she was lifted onto the bed. This seizure was her last: she died “in less than two Minutes without uttering a Word, a groan, or scarce a sigh.”

For seventeen years, Martha had nurtured and protected her fragile daughter, who was her constant daily companion. In her husband's words, she was reduced “to the lowest ebb of Misery.” He was so worried about her that he begged his brother-in-law to convince Martha's mother to come and live permanently at Mount Vernon to console her. Fanny Dandridge didn't leave her New Kent home, but Nelly Calvert comforted Martha during this time of anguish.

There were practical matters to deal with—a coffin to be built overnight by an Alexandria carpenter, the ceremonial black pall to cover the coffin retrieved from an acquaintance, the minister to be summoned. Even though Patsy had died on Saturday, she had to be buried the next day because of the blazing weather. Her body was probably laid out in the parlor.

After church services the following day, the Reverend Lee Massey, rector of Truro Parish, came to Mount Vernon in time for dinner. The subdued company was increased by the presence of the Fairfaxes. After dinner, Massey read the funeral service and Patsy was buried in an old brick vault close to the river. The day was warm and thunderous, but fortunately the rain held off. The Calverts allowed Nelly to remain with the grieving Martha for another week, sending her older sister to join her. Nelly's presence when Patsy died and during the week following created a lifelong bond between her and Martha.

A couple of weeks later, the Washingtons suffered another loss when George William and Sally Fairfax left for England to press a complicated legal suit. George and Martha stood on the Belvoir dock, waving forlornly as their closest friends sailed downriver to visit her parents before going abroad. Naturally, George had agreed to take charge of their affairs, subsequently renting Belvoir and selling off much of its furniture. They all knew the Fairfaxes would be gone a long time, but as it turned out, they never returned.

Cementing their new relationship, the Calverts returned with Betsy and Nelly on July 10; they stayed a couple of days and then left their daughters for a longer visit. Even though Martha was in mourning, she took great pains to keep the girls entertained with horseback rides, visits to neighbors and Alexandria, barbecues, and dances with neighboring young people in the evenings. Although she didn't often travel, she joined George in taking them home after a three-week visit, remaining at Mount Airy for four days.

Later in August, Nelly returned to Mount Vernon again, in the care of Governor Eden and a party of friends. Martha continued to provide for her entertainment during the three weeks she stayed before the governor picked her up on the way home. Nelly spent about half the summer—a total of fifty-four days—at Mount Vernon, ensconcing herself firmly in Martha's heart. Martha loved her from the beginning for Jack's sake, but she also came to regard Nelly as another daughter, whose presence during that summer lessened the pain of Patsy's loss.

Jack had been at college for three months when he was granted a vacation in late September; he was to meet his stepfather in Annapolis during the races and enjoy a quick reunion with his fiancée. When they arrived home on October 2, George's understanding was that Jack would enjoy a good long vacation and then return to college to study harder. Soon after their return, he confidently ordered books for his stepson, including Adam Smith's
Theory of Moral Sentiments
and John Locke's
Two Treatises of Government
.

It took him a while to realize that all those books would go unread. In October 1773, the Washingtons and Jack set off for the fall legislative session and social season at Williamsburg, stopping to visit Mary Washington and the Lewises on their way south before arriving at Eltham. George had to present his guardian's accounts to the court and wind up Patsy's estate, the investments of which were divided between her mother and her brother. While he was busy in Williamsburg, Martha spent most of the time with her relatives, no doubt being comforted for the loss of her daughter and encouraged in her plans for her son.

With some of Jack's inheritance, George bought more land for him—two tracts close to the rest of his land, Romancoke and Pleasant Hill. The latter included a commodious two-story brick house, which he may have expected Jack and Nelly to live in after their marriage. In a way, George kept daydreaming about making Jack more like himself. The thousands of Custis acres were rich and productive; any decent tobacco planter would want to take charge of his own land and keep a close eye on the crops once he came of age. Jack was pleasant, compliant, and passive—probably agreeing to everything and not saying, even not realizing, perhaps, that he and Nelly wanted to stay close to their parents and not move so far south. Jack had no more interest in farming than in Greek or Latin.

During their time away from home, Martha finally brought her husband to realize that it was pointless to return the unwilling student to college. Jack wanted to get married as soon as possible, and more important, that's what Martha wanted. He was her last remaining chick, as well as the sole heir to a large fortune, and she wanted grandchildren. After their return to Mount Vernon, George finally wrote to the president of King's College on December 15. Wistfully reiterating his wish for Jack to receive “useful knowledge,” he accepted that “these hopes are at an end; & at length, I have yielded contrary to my judgment, & much against my wishes, to his quitting College.” He had acceded to “his [Jack's] own inclination—the desires of his mother—& the acquiescence of almost all his relatives . . . as he is the last of the family . . . & therefore have submitted to a Kind of necessity.”

On February 3, the day rainy and drear, George and his cousin Lund arrived in time for the wedding that evening. Martha did not attend because her mourning garb and evident sorrow would, she felt, cast gloom on the festivities. For the first years of their marriage, the young Custises had no home of their own but divided their time between Mount Airy and Mount Vernon.

Washington's doubts about the wisdom of Jack's early marriage made sense, but in fact it was Martha, wiser in the ways of the heart, who was right. For after Jack married, he showed no signs of regret or infidelity but devoted himself happily to his wife. Jack never really took hold of anything in his life except Nelly Calvert, and his marriage gave him stability. Once he'd accepted Jack as he was, George could relax in his company for the first time since he was a little boy.

The relationship was made easier, as well, by George's turning his formidable energies toward political affairs. He had less time to occupy himself with Jack's failings as he pondered events in far-off New York and Boston. News of the Boston Tea Party, the destruction of a valuable cargo of British tea by protesting Bostonians in December 1773, soon reached Virginia. As he and Martha read the newspapers and entertained well-informed visitors, the discussion usually turned to British colonial policy and what it might mean for Virginia's interests.

None of these concerns could keep George from beginning an extensive enlargement of Mount Vernon in April, something he had been thinking about for a while. He planned to add to both sides of the existing house—at the north end, a great room, which could serve as both formal dining room and ballroom; at the other end, a private study and bedroom for him and Martha. The driveway would be changed as well. Instead of the commonplace straight drive leading up from the public road, he planned an elegant serpentine driveway with the two branches meeting in a circle at the front door. The gardens would be replanted to enhance the dramatic effect he was aiming for.

Martha was certainly consulted about these plans, no doubt spending hours listening as he debated the pros and cons of one option or another; but building was George's passion, not hers. For him, the house was both a consuming interest and an expression of his position and self-esteem. Martha's devotion was to people, not property. For her, the important question about the house was the number of relatives and friends she could fit into it.

In May 1774, Martha and George went down to Williamsburg. During the first week of their stay, he lodged in the capital city and attended sessions of the House of Burgesses while she stayed at Eltham with Nancy. The Bassetts had passed two enjoyable weeks with them at Mount Vernon the month before. Nancy was Martha's dearest friend, and the distance between them pained her.

That week, further news from Boston reached Williamsburg. The affronted British Parliament had passed the Coercive Acts (called by Americans the Intolerable Acts), a series of provisions meant to bring Bostonians to heel. Notification of these new laws was brought to Boston by a military force in May: the port was to be closed to all trade on June 1 until reparations for the lost tea and taxes were paid—in effect abruptly stopping all business in the city and throwing hundreds of men out of work. Other provisions tightened imperial administrative and judicial control, and perhaps most provocatively, British soldiers would be quartered in Boston homes. Loyalty and confidence in the mother country started to falter even in Virginia, the most British of the colonies in culture and tradition. But nothing yet seemed completely irrevocable; after all, previous crises had been resolved.