YOUNG SURVEYOR.

“George can make his home with me, now that his school-days are over,” said Lawrence to his mother, anxious to keep his young brother in his own family at Mount Vernon.

“But I need him more than you do,” objected Mrs. Washington; “you can hardly imagine how I miss him.”

“So do we miss him when he is not here,” responded Lawrence. “George is good company, as much so as a man of twenty-five years of age. I want very much that he should make his home with me.”

“I thought he might be of service to me in running the farm, and, at the same time, pursue his studies by himself,” continued Mrs. Washington.

“He can study better with me,” suggested Lawrence, “because I can assist him as well as not.”

“There is no doubt of that,” replied the mother, “and that is the only reason I can see why he should make his home with you.”

“There is one other reason, mother, and a good one, too.”

“What is it?”

“He will have a better opportunity to get into business if he lives with me. I have much company, and just the class of men to introduce a capable youth like George into some good pursuit.”

“There is something in that,” responded Mrs. Washington.

“There is much in it every way,” added Lawrence. “George is now at an age when his plans for life should be forming. He is competent to occupy almost any position that offers, and I can be of real service to him in directing and advising him.”

There is evidence to believe that Lawrence had not wholly abandoned the idea of introducing George into military life. He himself had become a man of influence in the State. He was a member of the House of Burgesses, and adjutant-general of his district; a gentleman of acknowledged ability and position. He saw in George the foreshadowing of a distinguished man. He had more exalted ideas than his mother of the boy’s ability and promise. If he could have him in his family, he could assist him onward and upward, beyond what would be possible if he remained with his mother.

It was finally settled that George should take up his abode with Lawrence at Mount Vernon. We need not say that this decision was congenial to George. He was so strongly attached to Lawrence, and enjoyed being at Mount Vernon so much, that he found great delight in removing thither permanently. It proved to be a very important step in his career, as Lawrence prophesied it would be.

George had not passed his sixteenth birthday. Though still a boy, his views and aims of life were those of a man. He pursued arithmetic and surveying under the direction of his brother, with reference to future manhood. Nor was that all.

One day Lawrence surprised him by the inquiry, “George, how would you like to take lessons in the manual exercise of Adjutant Muse?”

“I should like it,” George replied.

“It may be of service to you at some future day,” Lawrence continued. “It will do you no harm, surely.”

“I am ready for the lessons any time,” added George. “I have always had a desire to know something in that line.”

Adjutant Muse served with Lawrence in the war against the Spaniards in the West Indies, and he was a competent teacher of the manual exercise. It was arranged that he should instruct George in the art.

Subsequently, also, Lawrence made arrangements with Monsieur Van Braam to instruct George in the art of fencing. He had an idea that dexterity in the use of his limbs, as well as fire-arms, would be of future use to him. These facts indicate that Lawrence did not expect that his young brother would become a farmer. There is traditional evidence that he stated as much to George, whose military aspirations were nurtured in the Mount Vernon home.

Adjutant Muse encouraged George to read certain treaties upon the art of war, which he offered to loan him. From these volumes he acquired considerable knowledge of the theory of tactics, and of the evolution of troops. No previous branch of study had enlisted his interest more thoroughly than did these works upon military tactics; and we may easily discover the design of Providence to prepare him in this way to act a conspicuous part in the achievement of American independence.

At Mount Vernon George met William Fairfax, whose daughter Lawrence married. He occupied a valuable estate of his cousin Lord Fairfax, at Belvoir, seven or eight miles from Mount Vernon. He was an English gentleman of culture and wealth, very much respected by all who knew him.

Mr. Fairfax became very much interested in George, regarding him as a youth of rare, manly virtues.

“He is a man already,” he remarked to Lawrence; “very mature for one of his years.

“I think so,” Lawrence answered, “and I hope the way will be opened for his noblest development.”

“He must visit us at Belvoir; I should delight to have him spend much time in my family,” Mr. Fairfax added.

“And I should be pleased to have him,” responded Lawrence. “He would derive great benefit from it.”

“My sons and daughters would find him a very genial companion,” continued Mr. Fairfax. “I think the benefit from the society of each other would be mutual.”

In this way George was introduced to the Fairfax family, with whom he spent many of his happiest days and weeks. It was one of the most favorable incidents of his young life when he was welcomed to that family, for there he enjoyed society of culture, where character, and neither wealth nor honors, ranked highest. Just at that age he needed the influence of education and cultivated manners, and here he found both with the sons and daughters of Mr. Fairfax. Alternately, between this family at Belvoir and his brother’s family at Mount Vernon, he enjoyed a discipline of social intercourse, better for him, in some respects, than even Mr. Williams’s school.

At Belvoir George met Lord Fairfax, a relative of William Fairfax, recently from England. “He was the owner of immense domains in Virginia,” says Mr. Everett. “He had inherited through his mother, the daughter of Lord Culpepper, the original grantee, a vast tract of land, originally including the entire territory between the Potomac and Rappahannock Rivers.

Mr. Everett says of him further: “Lord Fairfax was a man of cultivated mind, educated at Oxford, the associate of the wits of London, the author of one or two papers in the Spectator, and an habitue of the polite circles of the metropolis. A disappointment in love is said to have cast a shadow over his after life, and to have led him to pass his time in voluntary exile on his Virginia estates, watching and promoting the rapid development of the resources of the country, following the hounds through the primeval forests, and cheering his solitary hours by reading and a limited society of chosen friends.

The “love affair” to which Mr. Everett refers is explained by Mr. Irving as follows:

“In the height of his fashionable career he became strongly attached to a young lady of rank, paid his addresses, and was accepted. The wedding day was fixed; the wedding dresses were provided, together with servants and équipages for the matrimonial establishment. Suddenly the lady broke her engagement. She had been dazzled by the superior brilliancy of a ducal coronet.

“It was a cruel blow alike to the affection and pride of Lord Fairfax, and wrought a change in both character and conduct. From that time he almost avoided the sex, and became shy and embarrassed in their society, excepting among those with whom he was connected or particularly intimate. This may have been among the reasons which ultimately induced him to abandon the gay world and bury himself in the wilds of America.”

Lord Fairfax was charmed by the appearance of George.

“A remarkable lad,” he said to his relative, William Fairfax; “so manly, so intelligent in knowledge beyond his years.

“Yet not a mere book-worm,” replied William. “No boy likes games and hunting better than he.”

“A capital horseman, I notice,” added the nobleman; “strong and powerful for one of his years. Yet he likes books. It seems to me that he is unusually fond of reading.”

Lord Fairfax possessed quite a number of valuable books, new and rare to George, who had pored over them with absorbing interest. The nobleman inferred that he must possess an unusual taste for reading, and this was really true.

“Yes, he generally wants to know what the books he meets with contain,” responded William. “He has made the contents of such books as he could reach his own.”

“I must take him out hunting with me,” continued Lord Fairfax. “He will make a good companion, I imagine.”

Lord Fairfax delighted in fox-hunting. In England, before he came to this country, his best sport was found in the fox-hunt. He kept his hounds, and all the accoutrements for the chase, so that he was always prepared for the sport. He found increased pleasure in the pastime after George became his companion in the chase. The latter enjoyed it, too, with a keen relish. It was not altogether new to him; he had been occasionally on such excursions with others. But the English nobleman understood fox-hunting as no one else in Virginia did. He had learned it as practised by English lords, who live in baronial style. For this reason George enjoyed the wild sport as he never did before.

One day George was surprised by a proposition from Lord Fairfax.

“How would you like to survey my lands for me, George? You appear to understand the business.

“I should like nothing better if I can do it to suit you,” George answered. “I like surveying.”

“Well, the only way for me to do is to survey my land, and sell it, if I would keep ‘squatters’ off,” added Lord Fairfax. “Squatters” were a class of persons took up their abode upon lands which did not belong to them, without leave or license.

“You can do it to suit me, I have no doubt,” continued the noble lord, “and I can satisfy you as to pay.”

“I will confer with Lawrence about it,” said George; “and I shall want to see my mother, also, I have no doubt but that they will think well of the plan.”

“That is right,” answered Lord Fairfax. “Think it over carefully before you decide. You can undertake the work any time.”

George was not long in consulting Lawrence, nor in securing the approval of his mother. He had frequently been home to see his mother, improving every favorable opportunity to show his filial devotion thereby. On this visit, the prospect of an honorable and remunerative pursuit added interest thereto.

Having obtained the approval of his mother and Lawrence, and formally accepted the proposition of Lord Fairfax, George set to work in earnest preparation for the task. He would be under the necessity of plunging into the wilderness, where savage beasts and savage men might confront him at almost any time. He must travel on horseback with attendants carrying his outfit at considerable disadvantage, shooting game and catching fish for food, and be absent weeks and possibly months at a time. Camping out at night, or finding a lodge in some poor cabin, breasting severe storms, encountering Indians, and other new experiences required preparation.

George William Fairfax, a son of William, accompanied him, together with two or three attendants. A writer describes the heroic boy, then sixteen years of age, as follows:

“There he is, a tall, handsome youth, with his right arm thrown across the horse’s neck, and his left hand grasping his compass-staff. He is clad in a buck-skin hunting-shirt, with leggings and moccasins of the same material, the simple garb of a backwoods man, and one that well becomes him now, as in perfect keeping with the wildness of the surrounding scenery; while in his broad leathern belt are stuck the long hunting-knife and Indian tomahawk. In stature he is much above most youths of the same age. He is of a noble, robust form, with high and strong but smooth features, light brown hair, large blue eyes, not brilliant, but beaming with a clear and steady light, as if a soul looked through them that knew no taint of vice or meanness, and a countenance aglow with truth and courage, modest gentleness, and manly self-reliance.”

“You must continue to keep your journal,” said Lawrence; “it will be more valuable than ever to you.”

George had kept a journal of events and experiences for two or three years, and his brother encouraged him in doing it as valuable discipline.

“I intend to do it,” answered George, “and I shall take more interest in it because I shall have something worth recording.”

“Twenty or thirty years from now you will put a higher value upon your journal than you do now,” added Lawrence. “I should recommend every youth to keep a journal.”

“Especially in the woods,” responded George, facetiously.

“Yes, in the woods or out; no boy can afford to lose the discipline of it,” rejoined Lawrence. “For so simple and easy practice it pays a large interest.”

“Small investments and large income! That is what you mean,” remarked George.

“Exactly; my word for it, you will find it so,” added Lawrence.

That journal has proved of far more value than Lawrence predicted. After the lapse of over one hundred and thirty years, we are able to learn from it about the hardships, dangers, and severe labors of his surveying expeditions. A few extracts from letters and journal will afford an insight into that important period of his life.

He wrote to one of his friends, after an experience of several months, thus:

“Your letter gave me the more pleasure, as I received it among barbarians, and an uncouth set of people. Since you received my last letter I have not slept above three or four nights in a bed; but after walking a good deal all the day, I have lain down before the fire upon a little hay, straw, fodder, or a bear-skin whichsoever was to be had with man, wife, and children, like dogs and cats; and happy is he who gets the berth nearest the fire. Nothing would make it pass off tolerably but a good reward. A doubloon is my constant gain every day that the weather will permit my going out, and sometimes six pistoles. The coldness of the weather will not allow of my making a long stay, as the lodging is rather too cold for the time of year. I have never had my clothes off, but have lain and slept in them, except the few nights I have been in Fredericksburg.”

$7 50.
A pistole was $3.50

The entry in his journal for the third day after he started, in March, 1748, was as follows:

“Worked hard till night, and then returned. After supper we were lighted into a room; and I, not being so good a woodsman as the rest, stripped myself very orderly, and went into the bed, as they called it, when, to my surprise, I found it to be nothing but a little straw matted together, without sheet or anything else, but only one threadbare blanket, with double its weight of vermin. I was glad to get up and put on my clothes, and lie as my companions did. Had we not been very tired, I am sure that we should not have slept much that night. I made a promise to sleep so no more, choosing rather to sleep in the open air before a fire.”

George commenced operations for Lord Fairfax early in March, when the mountains were still white with snow, and wintry blasts swept over the plains. The heavy rains of spring had swollen the streams into torrents, so that it was perilous to ford them. Of course the hardships of such an expedition were largely increased by the rough, cold weather of the season.

Abbot says: “The enterprise upon which Washington had entered was one full of romance, toil, and peril. It required the exercise of constant vigilance and sagacity. Though these wilds may be called pathless still there were here and there narrow trails, which the moccasined foot of the savage had trodden for centuries. They led in a narrow track, scarcely two feet in breadth, through dense thickets, over craggy hills, and along the banks of placid streams or foaming torrents.

Everett says: “The hardships of this occupation will not be fully comprehended by those who are acquainted with the surveyor’s duties only as they are practised in old and thickly settled countries. In addition to the want of accommodation, the service was attended by serious perils. In new countries, of which ‘squatters’ have begun to take possession, the surveyor is at all times a highly unwelcome visitor, and sometimes goes about his duties at the risk of his life. Besides this, a portion of the land traversed by Washington formed a part of that debatable land, the disputed right to which was the original moving cause of the ‘Seven Years’ War.’ The French were already in motion, both from Canada and Louisiana, to preoccupy the banks of the Ohio, and the savages in their interest roamed the intervening country up to the settlements of Virginia.”

Another entry in his journal is the following:

“Rained till about two o’clock, and then cleared up, when we were agreeably surprised at the sight of more than thirty Indians, coming from war with only one scalp. We had some liquor with us, of which we gave them a part. This, elevating their spirits, put them in the humor of dancing. We then had a war dance. After clearing a large space, and making a great fire in the middle, the men seated themselves around it, and the speaker made a grand speech, telling them in what manner they were to dance. After he had finished, the best dancer jumped up, as one awakened from sleep, and ran and jumped about the ring in the most comical manner. He was followed by the rest. Then began their music, which was performed with a pot half full of water, and a deer skin stretched tight over it, and a gourd with some shot in it to rattle, and a piece of horse’s tail tied to it to make it look fine. One person kept rattling and another drumming all the while they were dancing.”

George had never seen Indians in their wigwams until his surveying expedition. He had never witnessed a war dance nor been brought face to face with these red men until he engaged in this pursuit for Lord Fairfax. The Indians were friendly, though it was known that they looked upon the encroachments of the English colonists with suspicion, if not with some bitterness. Occasionally a wandering band plundered defenceless families and spread consternation abroad. But such hostile demonstrations were exceptional.

“Strange must have been the emotions which at times agitated the bosom of this pensive, reflective, heroic boy, as at midnight, far away from the haunts of civilization, in the wigwam of the savage, he listened to the wailings of the storm, interrupted only by the melancholy cry of the night-bird, and the howl of wolves and other unknown beasts of prey. By the flickering light of the wigwam fire, he saw, sharing his couch, the dusky form of the Indian hunter, his squaw, and his pappooses.

Other entries in his journal show that George was compelled to submit to privations that were new and strange to him.

“Travelled up to Solomon Hedges’, Esquire, to-day, one of His Majesty’s Justices of the Peace, in the county of Frederick, where we camped. When we came to supper there was neither a knife on the table nor a fork to eat with; but as good luck would have it, we had knives of our own.”

George put in italics the words indicated, evidently to call attention to the poverty and degradation of some of “His Majesty’s Justices.” He had a high-sounding title to his name, but neither knife nor fork!

“April 8: We camped in the woods, and after we had pitched our tent and made a large fire, we pulled out our knapsacks to recruit ourselves. Every one was his own cook. Our spits were forked sticks, our plates were large chips. As for dishes, we had none.”

One “blowing, rainy night,” George was startled from a sound sleep by the cry of “Fire! Fire! Fire!”

He sprung to his feet half asleep, scarcely knowing what unearthly sound awoke him.

“Your bed is on fire, George,” shouted the same companion. “Narrow escape for you.”

Sure enough, George discovered that the straw on which he was lying had taken fire, and, but for the timely warning of his more wakeful companion, he must have been severely burned.

His diary contained such items as, “The number of acres in each lot surveyed, the quality of the soil, the height of the hills, the growth of plants and trees, the extent of the valleys, and the length, breadth, and course of the streams.” On these various topics he reported to his employer, furnishing him thereby the necessary data on which to base a judgment on sale of land.

Mr. Sparks, speaking of the thoroughness of his work as a surveyor, says, “Nor was his skill confined to the more simple processes of the art. He used logarithms, and proved the accuracy of his work by different methods. The manuscripts fill several quires of paper, and are remarkable for the care with which they were kept, the neatness and uniformity of the handwriting, the beauty of the diagrams, and a precise method and arrangement in copying out tables and columns of figures. These particulars will not be thought too trivial to be noticed when it is known he retained similar habits through life. His business papers, day-books, ledgers, and letter-books, in which, before the Revolution, no one wrote but himself, exhibit specimens of the same studious care and exactness. Every fact occupies a clear and distinct place.”

Mr. Everett says: “He soon became distinguished for the accuracy of his surveys, and obtained the appointment of a public surveyor, which enabled him to enter his plans as legally valid in the county offices. The imperfect manner in which land surveys at that time were generally executed led in the sequel to constant litigation; but an experienced practitioner in the Western courts pronounced in after years that, of all the surveys which had come within his knowledge, those of Washington could alone be depended upon.”

Mr. Weems mentions George’s connection with the family of Widow Stevenson, with whom he made headquarters while surveying Frederick County, which was then very large, embracing what is now Berkeley, Jefferson, and Shenandoah Counties. She had seven sons, William, Valentine, John, Hugh, Dick, James, and Mark, all stalwart fellows. These seven young men, in Herculean size and strength, were equal, perhaps, to any seven sons of any one mother in Christendom. This was a family exactly to George’s mind, because promising him an abundance of that manly exercise in which he delighted.

“Come,” said Valentine, “let us go out to the Green, and see who the best man is.

The “Green” was an extended level field in front of the house, a nice spot for jumping, wrestling, and other sports. By a trial to see which was the best man, Valentine meant to see who would excel in these athletic exercises.

“Agreed,” responded George, “I am tired enough to go to bed, but it always rests me to test my strength.”

It was just at night, and George had just come in from a trip of several days. He came around to Mrs. Stevenson’s as often as he could, though he camped in the woods at night most of the time.

“That is so with me,” said Dick. “I sleep better after an Indian hug, or a few long leaps, or a hard run.”

“Provided you beat,” suggested John. “I don’t believe that it contributes much to your sleep when you are worsted.”

“Don’t sleep so soundly, perhaps,” replied Dick, humorously. “It would give me a pretty long nap to lay George on his back.”

“Yes, I think it would,” retorted George. “Perhaps you would never wake up, you would be so happy and that would be a great pity.”

“Well, come,” urged William, who had been a close listener, “let us see what we can do. It will get to be dark while we are talking.”

And so they hurried away to the “Green” for sport. This was done again and again during his stay with the Stevensons. Mr. Weems says:

“Here it was that George, after a hard day’s toil at surveying, like a young Greek training for the Olympic games, used to turn out with his sturdy young companions, ‘to see,’ as they termed it, ’which was the best man’ at running, jumping, and wrestling. And so keen was their passion for these sports, and so great their ambition to out-do one another, that they would often keep them up, especially on moon shining nights, till bed-time. Mrs. Stevenson’s sons, though not taller than George, were much heavier men; so that at wrestling, and particularly at the close or Indian Hug, he seldom gained much matter of triumphs. But in all trials of agility, they stood no chance with him.”

Mr. Weems continues:

“From these Frederick County gymnastics there followed an effect which shows the very wide difference between participating in innocent and guilty pleasures. While companions in raking and gambling heartily despise and hate one another, and when they meet in the streets pass each other with looks cold and shy as sheep-thieving curs, these virtuous young men, by spending their evenings together in innocent and manly exercises, contracted a friendship which lasted for life. When George, twenty-five years after this, was called to lead the American armies, he did not forget his old friends, but gave commissions to all of them who chose to join the army. William, who was as brave a man as ever shouldered a musket, was advanced as high as the rank of colonel, when he was burned to death by the Indians at Sandusky. And equally cordial was the love of these young men for George, of whom they ever spoke as of a brother.”

When Washington had attained his highest honors, and the War of Independence was over, the Stevensons loved to rehearse their runnings and wrestlings with him. Said Hugh exultingly to some friends:

“Brother John and I have often laid the conqueror of England on his back.”

“But we were no match for him in running and jumping,” honestly retorted John.

It was George’s thorough survey and glowing description of a region beyond the Blue Ridge that induced Lord Fairfax to erect a costly stone mansion there for his trans-Atlantic home. He called it Greenaway Court, and it became one of the most beautiful and attractive estates in Virginia, where the proprietor lived in an expensive style, dispensing a generous hospitality. It was at Greenaway Court that George first read the history of England.

George’s success as a surveyor for Lord Fairfax called the attention of the Virginia authorities to him, and he was appointed public surveyor, as stated by Mr. Everett, whom we have quoted, deriving a discipline therefrom which was of great service to him in his future public career. The business, also, made him familiar with the country, particularly the Shenandoah Valley, which means “Shining daughter of the stars,” so that he was able to invest money afterwards to great advantage in real estate.

That George did not forget his “Lowland Beauty,” even after his pleasant connection with the Fairfax family, is quite evident from one of his letters to an old companion, as follows:

DEAR ROBIN: As it is the greatest mark of affection and esteem which absent friends can show each other to write and often communicate their thoughts, I shall endeavor from time to time to acquaint you with my situation and employments in life. And I could wish you would take half the pains to send me a letter by any opportunity, as you may be well assured of its meeting with a welcome reception. My place at present is at Lord Fairfax’s, where I might, were I disengaged, pass my time very pleasantly, as there is a very agreeable young lady in the house, Colonel George Fairfax’s wife’s sister. But that only adds fuel to the fire, as being often and unavoidably in her company revives my former passion for your Lowland Beauty; whereas, were I to live more retired from young ladies, I might in some measure alleviate my sorrow, by burying that chaste and troublesome passion in oblivion; and I am very well assured that this will be the only antidote or remedy.

Providence was sending him to a noble destiny. We can trace the divine discipline all through the privations and responsibilities of his life as surveyor. God was preparing him for the Revolution of 1776.

Mr. Frost, one of his biographers, says: “The business of practical surveying undoubtedly formed a very important part of Washington’s preparation for the office of military commander. It not only hardened and invigorated the already robust frame, but it educated his eye, and accustomed him to judge respecting distances, and advantages of position. By making him an able civil engineer, it laid the foundation of his future eminence in a military capacity. It was more immediately advantageous to him by procuring for him the acquaintance of the principal landholders of the State, and by making known to them his remarkable judgment, good-sense, and ability in the conduct of affairs. The effect of this last circumstance was seen in his appointment, at the age of nineteen, to the office of adjutant-general, with the rank of major. This gave him the charge of a district, with the duty of exercising the militia, inspecting their arms, and superintending their discipline.”

Lord Fairfax loved him with the love of a father, but he did not dream that he was becoming the benefactor of England’s conqueror.

Mr. Weems says: “Little did the old gentleman expect that he was educating a youth who should one day dismember the British Empire, and break his own heart, which truly came to pass; for on hearing that Washington had captured Cornwallis and all his army, he called out to his black servant, ’Come, Joe, carry me to my bed, for it is high time for me to die.’”