no more to reside at Mount Vernon till after the peace of 1783. MRS. or LADY WASHINGTON, as we shall now call her, such being the appellation she always bore in the army, accompanied the gene ral to the lines before Boston, and witnessed its siege and evacuation She then returned to Virginia, the subsequent campaigns being of too momentous a character to allow of her accompanying the army.

At the close of each campaign an aid-de-camp repaired to Mount Vernon, to escort the lady to the head-quarters. The arrival of LADY WASHINGTON at camp was an event much anticipated, and was always the signal for the ladies of the general officers to repair to the bosoms of their lords. The arrival of the aid-de-camp, escorting the plain chariot, with the neat postillions in their scarlet and white liveries, was deemed an epoch in the army, and served to diffuse a cheering influence amid the gloom which hung over our destinies at Valley Forge, Morristown, and West Point. LADY WASHINGTON always remained at the head-quarters till the opening of the campaign, and often remarked, in after life, that it had been her fortune to hear the first cannon at the opening, and the last at the closing, of all the campaigns of the revolutionary war. During the whole of that mighty period when we struggled for independence, LADY WASHINGTON preserved her equanimity, together with a degree of cheerfulness that inspired all around her with the brightest hopes for our ultimate success. To her alone a heavy cloud of sorrow hung over the conclusion of the glorious campaign of 1781. Her only child, while attending to his duties as aid-de-camp to the general-in-chief, during the siege of Yorktown, was seized with an attack of the camp fever, then raging to a frightful extent within the enemy's intrenchments. Ardently attached to the cause of his country, having witnessed many of the most important events of the revolutionary contest, from the siege of Boston, in 1775, to the virtual termination of the war in 1781, the sufferer beheld the surrender of the British army on the memorable 19th of October, and was thence removed to Eltham, in New Kent, where he was attended by Dr. Craik, chief of the medical staff. Washington, learning the extreme danger of his step-son, to whom he was greatly attached, privately left the camp before Yorktown, while yet it rang with the shouts of victory, and, attended by a single officer, rode with all speed to Eltham. It was just day dawn when the commander-in-chief sprung from his panting charger, and summoning Dr. Craik to his presence, inquired if there was any hope. Craik shook his head, when the chief, being shown into a private room, threw himself on a bed

absorbed in grief. The poor sufferer, being in his last agonies, soon after expired. The general remained for some time closeted with his lady, then remounted and returned to the camp.

It was after the peace of 1783, that General Washington set in earnest about the improvements in building and laying off the gardens and grounds that now adorn Mount Vernon. He continued in these gratifying employments, occasionally diversified by the pleasures of the chase, till 1787, when he was called to preside in the convention that formed the present constitution, and in 1789, left his beloved retirement to assume the chief magistracy of the union. During the residence of General and MRS. WASHINGTON at Mount Vernon, after the peace of 1783, the ancient mansion, always the seat of hospitality, was crowded with guests. The officers of the French and American armies, with many strangers of distinction, hastened to pay their respects to the victorious general, now merged into the illustrious farmer of Mount Vernon. During these stirring times MRS. WASHINGTON performed the duties of a Virginia housewife, and presided at her well-spread board, with that ease and elegance of manners which always distinguished her. At length the period arrived when General and MRS. WASHINGTON were to leave the delights of retirement, and to enter upon new and elevated scenes of life. The unanimous voice of his country hailed the hero who had so lately led her armies to victory, as the chief magistrate of the young empire about to dawn upon the world.

The president and his lady bid adieu with extreme regret, to the tranquil and happy shades where a few years of repose had, in great measure, effaced the effects of the toils and anxieties of war; where a little Eden had bloomed and flourished under their fostering hands; and where a numerous circle of friends and relatives would sensibly feel the privation of their departure. They departed, and hastened to where duty called the man of his country.

The journey to New York, in 1789, was a continued triumph. The august spectacle at the bridge of Trenton brought tears to the eyes of the chief, and forms one of the most brilliant recollections of the age of Washington.

Arrived at the seat of the federal government, the president and MRS. WASHINGTON formed their establishment upon a scale that, while it partook of all the attributes of our republican institutions, possessed at the same time that degree of dignity and regard for appearances, so necessary to give to our infant republic respect in the eyes of the world. The house was handsomely furnished; the

equipages neat, with horses of the first order; the servants wore the family liveries; and, with the exception of a steward and housekeeper, the whole establishment differed but little from that of a private gentleman. On Tuesdays, from three to four o'clock, the president received the foreign ambassadors and strangers who wished to be introduced to him. On these occasions, and when opening the sessions of congress, the president wore a dress sword. His personal apparel was always remarkable for its being old fashioned, and exceedingly plain and neat. On Thursdays were the congressional dinners, and on Friday nights, MRS. WASHINGTON's drawing room. The company usually assembled about seven, and rarely staid exceeding ten o'clock. The ladies were seated, and the president passed around the circle, paying his compliments to each. At the drawing rooms, Mrs. Morris always sat at the right of the lady president, and at all the dinners, public or private, at which Robert Morris was a guest, that venerable man was placed at the right of MRS. WASHINGTON. When ladies called at the president's mansion, the habit was for the secretaries and gentlemen of the president's household to hand them to and from their carriages; but when the honored relicts of Greene and Montgomery came to the presidoliad, the president himself performed these complimentary duties.

On the great national festivals of the fourth of July and twentysecond of February, the sages of the revolutionary congress and the officers of the revolutionary army renewed their acquaintance with MRS. WASHINGTON; many and kindly greetings took place, with many a recollection of the days of trial. The Cincinnati, after paying their respects to their chief, were seen to file off toward the parlor, where LADY WASHINGTON was in waiting to receive them, and where Wayne, and Mifflin, and Dickenson, and Stewart, and Moylan, and Hartley, and a host of veterans, were cordially welcomed as old friends, and where many an interesting reminiscence was called up, of the head-quarters and the "times of the revolution."

On Sundays, unless the weather was uncommonly severe, the president and MRS. WASHINGTON attended divine service at Christ church; and in the evenings, the president read to MRS. WASHINGTON, in her chamber, a sermon, or some portion from the sacred writings. No visiters, with the exception of Mr. Speaker Trumbull, were admitted to the presidoliad on Sundays.

There was one description of visiters, however, to be found about the first president's mansion on all days. The old soldiers repaired, as they said, to head-quarters, just to inquire after the health of his

excellency and LADY WASHINGTON. They knew his excellency was of course much engaged; but they would like to see the good lady. One had been a soldier of the life guard; another had been on duty when the British threatened to surprise the head-quarters; a third had witnessed that terrible fellow, Cornwallis, surrender his sword: each one had some touching appeal, with which to introduce himself to the peaceful head-quarters of the presidoliad. All were "kindly bid to stay," were conducted to the steward's apartments, and refreshments set before them; and, after receiving some little token from the lady, with her best wishes for the health and happiness of an old soldier, they went their ways, while blessings upon their revered commander and the good LADY WASHINGTON, Were uttered by many a war-worn veteran of the revolution.

In the spring of 1797, General and MRS. WASHINGTON, bidding adieu to public life, took their leave of the seat of government and journeyed to the south, prepared in good earnest to spend the remnant of their days in their beloved retirement of Mount Vernon. The general reassumed with delight his agricultural employments, while the lady bustled again amid her domestic concerns, showing that neither time nor her late elevated station had in any wise impaired her qualifications for a Virginia housewife, and she was now verging upon threescore and ten.

But for Washington to be retired at Mount Vernon or any where else, was out of the question. Crowds which had hailed the victorious general as the deliverer of his country, and called him with acclamation to the chief magistracy of the infant empire, now pressed to his retirement, to offer their love and admiration to the illustrious farmer of Mount Vernon.

MRS. WASHINGTON was an uncommonly early riser, leaving her pillow at day dawn at all seasons of the year, and becoming at once actively engaged in her household duties. After breakfast she retired for an hour to her chamber, which hour was spent in prayer and reading the Holy Scriptures, a practice that she never omitted during half a century of her varied life.

Two years had passed happily at Mount Vernon; for although the general, yielding to the claims of his country, had again accepted the command-in-chief of her armies, yet he had stipulated with government that he should not leave his retirement, unless upon the actual invasion of an enemy. It was while engaged in projecting new and ornamental improvements in his grounds, that the fiat of the Almighty went forth, calling the being, the measure of whose earthly fame was

filled to overflowing, to his great reward in higher and better worlds. The illness was short and severe. MRS. WASHINGTON left not the chamber of the sufferer, but was seen kneeling at the bedside, her head resting upon her Bible, which had been her solace in the many and heavy afflictions she had undergone. Dr. Craik, the early friend and companion in arms of the chief, replaced the hand, which was almost pulseless, upon the pillow, while he turned away to conceal the tears that fast chased each other down his furrowed cheeks. The last effort of the expiring Washington was worthy of the Roman fame of his life and character. He raised himself up, and casting a look of benignity on all around him, as if to thank them for their kindly attentions, he composed his limbs, closed his eyes, and folding his arms upon his bosom, the father of his country expired, gently as though an infant died!

The afflicted relict could with difficulty be removed from the chamber of death, to which she returned no more, but occupied other apartments for the residue of her days.

By an arrangement with government, MRS. WASHINGTON yielded the remains of the chief to the prayer of the nation, as expressed through its representatives in congress, conditioning that at her decease, her own remains should accompany those of her husband to the capital.

When the burst of grief which followed the death of the pater patriæ had a little subsided, visits of condolence to the bereaved lady were made by the first personages of the land. The president of the United States, with many other distinguished individuals, repaired to Mount Vernon, while letters, addresses, funeral orations, and all the tokens of sorrow and respect, loaded the mails from every quarter of the country, offering the sublime tribute of a nation's mourning for a nation's benefactor.

Although the great sun of attraction had sunk in the west, still the radiance shed by his illustrious life and actions drew crowds of pilgrims to his tomb. The establishment of Mount Vernon was kept up to its former standard, and the lady presided with her wonted ease and dignity of manner at her hospitable board; she relaxed not in her attentions to her domestic concerns, performing the arduous duties of the mistress of so extensive an establishment, although in the sixty-ninth year of her age, and evidently suffering in her spirits, from the heavy bereavement she had so lately sustained.

In little more than two years from the demise of the chief, MRS. WASHINGTON became alarmingly ill from an attack of bilious fever.

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