MRS. MARTHA
MARTHA WASHINGTON.

DESCENDED from an ancient family, which first migrated to the colony of Virginia, in the person of the Reverend Orlando Jones, a clergyman of Wales: MARTHA Dandridge was born in the county of New Kent, colony of Virginia, in May, 1732. The education of females, in the early days of the colonial settlements, was almost exclusively of a domestic character, and by instructors who were entertained in the principal families, that were too few and too "far between" to admit of the establishment of public schools. Of the early life of MISS DANDRIDGE, we are only able to record, that the young lady excelled in personal charms, which, with pleasing manners, and a general amiability of demeanor, caused her to be distin guished amid the fair ones who usually assembled at the court of Williamsburg, then held by the royal governors of Virginia.

At seventeen years of age, or in 1749, Miss DANDRIDGE was married to Colonel Daniel Parke Custis, of the White House, county of New Kent. This was a match of affection. The father of the bridegroom, the Honorable John Custis, of Arlington, a king's counsellor, had matrimonial views of a more ambitious character for his only son and heir, and was desirous of a connection with the Byrd family, of Westover, Colonel Byrd being, at that time, from his influence and vast possessions, almost a count palatine of Virginia. The counsellor having at length given his consent, the newly married pair settled at the White House, on the banks of the Pamunkey river, where Colonel Custis became an eminently successful planter. The fruits of this marriage were, a girl, who died in infancy, and Daniel, Martha, and John. Daniel was a child of much promise, and it was generally believed, that his untimely death hastened his father to the grave. Martha arrived at womanhood, and died at Mount Vernon in 1770, and John, the father of the biographer,"

*GEORGE W. P. Custis, Esq., of Arlington, D. C.

perished while in the service of his country, and the suite of the commander-in-chief, at the siege of Yorktown, 1781, aged twenty

seven.

On the decease of her husband, which happened at about middle age, MRS. CUSTIS found herself at once a very young, and among the very wealthiest widows in the colony. Independently of extensive and valuable landed estates, the colonel left thirty thousand pounds sterling in money, with half that amount to his only daughter, Martha. It is related of this amiable gentleman, that, when on his death bed, he sent for a tenant, to whom, in settling an account, he was due one shilling. The tenant begged that the colonel, who had ever been most kind to his tenantry, would not trouble himself at all about such a trifle, as he, the tenant, had forgotten it long ago. "But I have not," rejoined the just and conscientious landlord, and bidding his creditor take up the coin, which had been purposely placed on his pillow, exclaimed, "Now my accounts are all closed with this world;" and shortly after expired. MRS. CUSTIs, as sole executrix, managed the extensive landed and pecuniary concerns of the estates with surprising ability, making loans, on mortgage, of moneys, and, through her stewards and agents, conducting the sales or exportation of the crops, to the best possible advantage.

While on the subject of the moneyed concerns of seventy years ago, we hope to be pardoned for a brief digression. The orchard of fine apple trees is yet standing near Bladensburg, that was presented to a Mr. Ross, by the father of the late venerated Charles Carroll of Carrollton, as a recompense for Mr. Ross's having introduced to Mr. Carroll a good borrower of his money. A Colonel T., one of the ancient dons of Maryland, being observed riding over the race course of Annapolis in a very disturbed and anxious manner, was accosted by his friends, with a "What's the matter, colonel? Are you alarmed for the success of your filly, about to start?" "Oh no," replied T., "but I have a thousand pounds by me, to loan, and here have I been riding about the course the whole morning, and not a single borrower can I get for my money." We opine, that the same anxieties would not be long suffered now.

It was in 1758, that an officer, attired in a military undress, and attended by a body servant, tall and militaire as his chief, crossed the ferry called Williams', over the Pamunkey, a branch of the York iver. On the boat touching the southern, or New Kent side, the soldier's progress was arrested by one of those personages, who give the beau ideal of the Virginia gentleman of the old regime, the very

soul of kindliness and hospitality. It was in vain the soldier urged his business at Williamsburg, important communications to the governor, &c. Mr. Chamberlayne, on whose domain the militaire had just landed, would hear of no excuse. Colonel Washington was a name and character so dear to all the Virginians, that his passing by one of the old castles of Virginia, without calling and partaking of the hospitalities of the host, was entirely out of the question. The colonel, however, did not surrender at discretion, but stoutly maintained his ground, till Chamberlayne bringing up his reserve, in the intimation that he would introduce his friend to a young and charming widow, then beneath his roof, the soldier capitulated, on condition that he should dine, only dine, and then, by pressing his charger and borrowing of the night, he would reach Williamsburg before his excellency could shake off his morning slumbers. Orders were accordingly issued to Bishop, the colonel's body servant and faithful follower, who, together with the fine English charger, had been bequeathed by the dying Braddock to Major Washington, on the famed and fatal field of the Monongahela. Bishop, bred in the school of European discipline, raised his hand to his cap, as much as to say, "Your honor's orders shall be obeyed."

The colonel now proceeded to the mansion, and was introduced to various guests, (for when was a Virginian domicil of the olden time without guests?) and above all, to the charming widow. Tradition relates that they were mutually pleased on this their first interview, nor is it remarkable; they were of an age when impressions are strongest. The lady was fair to behold, of fascinating manners, and splendidly endowed with worldly benefits. The hero, fresh from his early fields, redolent of fame, and with a form on which "every god did seem to set his seal, to give the world assurance of a man."

The morning passed pleasantly away, evening came, with Bishop, true to his orders and firm at his post, holding the favorite charger with the one hand, while the other was waiting to offer the ready stirrup. The sun sank in the horizon, and yet the colonel appeared not. And then the old soldier marvelled at his chief's delay. ""Twas strange, 't was passing strange"-surely he was not wont to be a single moment behind his appointments, for he was the most punctual of all punctual men. Meantime, the host enjoyed the scene of the veteran on duty at the gate, while the colonel was so agreeably employed in the parlor; and proclaiming that no guest ever left his house after sunset, his military visiter was, without much difficulty, persuaded to order Bishop to put up the horses for the night. The

sun rode high in the heavens the ensuing day, when the enamored soldier pressed with his spur his charger's side, and speeded on his way to the seat of government, where, having despatched his public business, he retraced his steps, and, at the White House, the engagement took place, with preparations for the marriage.

And much hath the biographer heard of that marriage, from grayhaired domestics, who waited at the board where love made the feast and Washington was the guest. And rare and high was the revelry, at that palmy period of Virginia's festal age; for many were gathered to that marriage, of the good, the great, the gifted, and the gay, while Virginia, with joyous acclamation, hailed in her youthful hero a prosperous and happy bridegroom.

"And so you remember when Colonel Washington came a courting of your mistress?" said the biographer to old Cully, in his hundredth year. "Aye, master, that I do," replied this ancient family servant, who had lived to see five generations; "great times, sir, great times! Shall never see the like again!" "And Washington looked something like a man, a proper man; hey, Cully?" "Never seed the like, sir; never the likes of him, tho' I have seen many in my day: so tall, so straight! and then he sat a horse and rode with such an air! Ah, sir; he was like no one else! Many of the grandest gentlemen, in their gold lace, were at the wedding, but none looked like the man himself!" Strong, indeed, must have been the impressions which the person and manner of Washington made upon the rude, "untutor❜d mind" of this poor negro, since the lapse of three quarters of a century had not sufficed to efface them.

The precise date of the marriage, the biographer has been unable to discover, having in vain searched among the records of the vestry of St. Peter's church, New Kent, of which the Reverend Mr. Mossom, a Cambridge scholar, was the rector, and performed the ceremony, it is believed, about 1759. A short time after their marriage, Colonel and MRS. WASHINGTON removed to Mount Vernon on the Potomac, and permanently settled there.

The mansion of Mount Vernon, more than seventy years ago, was a very small building, compared with its present extent, and the numerous out buildings attached to it. The mansion house consisted of four rooms on a floor, forming the centre of the present building, and remained pretty much in that state up to 1774, when Colonel Washington repaired to the first congress in Philadelphia, and from thence to the command-in-chief of the armies of his country, assembled before Cambridge, July, 1775. The commander-in-chief returned

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