“Those who encountered Washington most often described him as reserved, formal, and aloof, a man of “mild gravity” and “stately bearing” who was habitually wary of strangers. Visitors never portrayed him as curt or inhospitable, but none ever said that they felt completely at ease with Washington or claimed to have grown close to him. However, there were two groups with which Washington developed close relationships. He grew near to several of his aides and the Marquis de Lafayette. All were young enough to be his sons and all venerated him. These young men posed no threat to Washington. Blindly loyal, they were acquaintances with whom he could relax and speak with candor.
Washington was also quite comfortable in the company of women. Perhaps because they too posed no threat to his public position, he permitted women to see a side of him that few men ever witnessed. Several women described Washington’s manner in ways that no man ever suggested. Some commented on his sense of humor, others said he listened to them more attentively than most men, and some portrayed him as cheerful, even playful.”
Yes, Peggy Arnold did have that breakdown at West Point after her husband defected. However, it was COMPLETELY staged! She was left behind at West Point with her son Edward who was still a baby. George Washington had breakfast with her that morning. Lafayette reproached Washington playfully, saying how the young men (mostly aides) waited their breakfast with “ravishing” Peggy Arnold. Washington said in return:
“Ah, I know you young men are all in love with Mrs. Arnold … You may god and take your breakfast with her and tell her not to wait for me.”
Two aides, Samuel Shaw and James McHenry went ahead and told Peggy that a large party of guests had been delayed but would shortly arrive for breakfast. When Washington dismounted at the Robinson House where the Arnolds were stayed, one of Arnold’s aides, Major David Franks explained that Arnold had been summoned to West Point on an urgent call and that Peggy Arnold lay abed upstairs. Late into the afternoon there was still no sign from either Peggy or her husband. Arnold had long hopped on a barge that André was supposed to be on and Peggy staged her scene.
It was Lieutenant Colonel Richard Varick who initially notified Washington of the “delirious” behavior of Peggy Arnold upstairs. he had found her roaming the halls in a state of partial undress and coaxed her back to bed where she insisted that “there was a hot iron on her head and no one but General Washington could take it off.” When Washington went upstairs to calm her, he found her hugging her child, Edward, to her breast. She pretended not to recognize Washington. “There is General Washington,” Varick urged her gently.
In return Peggy insisted, “No that is not General Washington! That is the man who is a-going to assist Colonel Varick in killing my child.” She added, “General Arnold with never return. he is gone forever, there, there, there.” She motioned toward the ceiling saying, “The spirits have carried him up there. They had put hot irons in his head.” She fooled everyone and played it to perfection. Hamilton wrote to his wife, Elizabeth Hamilton:
“It was the most affecting scene I ever was witness to. [For a considerable time, Peggy had] entirely lost her senses … One moment she raved, another she melted into tears. Sometimes she pressed her infant to her bosom and lamented its fate, occasioned by the imprudence of its father, in a manner that would have pierced insensibility itself.:
After the event, believed to be innocent, Peggy was sent back to Philadelphia where her family resided. Theodosia Prevost had been a good friend of hers and Peggy had stayed with Prevost in what is now Paramus, New Jersey, enroute to Philadelphia from West Point. Peggy, unable to take the lying anymore, confessed everything to Theodosia, telling her that “through unceasing perseverance, [Peggy] had ultimately brought the general into an arrangement to surrender West Point.” Nobody saw that the reaction was a farce.
“While I am on the subject of [Benjamin Walker], I must relate an anecdote which happened while he was in the family of Genl Washington, and which is strongly descriptive of his honest heart. He had long been engaged to a Quaker young lady, who resided in the State of New York, and whom he afterwards married. He once asked the General to give him leave of absence for a few days, to go and see her. The General told him, that he could not at that time dispense with his services. Walker insisted, begged, entreated, but all in vain. “If I don’t go,” said he “she will die.” “Oh! no,” said Washington, “women do not die for such trifles.” “But, General, what shall I do?” “What you will do? why write to her to add another leaf to the /book of sufferings/.” This was related to me by Walker himself. Genl Washington had a great deal of that dry humour, which he knew how to make use of on proper occasions.”
Washington inquired of Morris, “What are we to do with this heavy debt?” Morris replied: “There is but one man in the United States who can tell you; that is, Alexander Hamilton. I am glad you have given me this opportunity to declare to you, the extent of the obligations I am under to him.“
Troup recorded that Washington, immediately after his inauguration “called on Hamilton, and told him it was his intention to nominate him to the charge of the financial department” as soon as it should be organized. Hamilton next day requested Troup to wind up his law practice if he were appointed. Troup, willing to oblige, yet pointed out that abandoning the law for public office would entail a sacrifice for Hamilton’s family. Hamilton readily admitted this but felt he could not refuse the President’s invitation to an assignment in which he “could essentially promote the welfare of the country.“
Earlier, Hamilton had confided to Gouverneur Morris his hope for this opportunity. He dismissed Morris’ remonstrance that the Treasury post, of all others, promised calumny, with the conviction that “it is the situation in which I can do most good.“
– Alexander Hamilton The National Adventure by Broadus Mitchell
In the evenings, about 8:30, Washington and his Military Family habitually had a small private supper together when possible. This meal varied from the almost ceremonious nature of the 3 o’clock dinner to which a plethora of guests were invited every day. These suppers with the family rarely had any guests and were basically just time for the general to spend personally with his staff and to share with them a small, light meal. Marquis de Chastellux was once invited to attend this private supper and wrote about it in this Travels. He’d protested the meal at first, thinking it was a meal, but Washington informed him that all he needed to do was eat some fruit and enjoy some conversation. At that, Chastellux readily agreed and was somewhat relieved to be in a relaxed environment in which he actually knew everyone and enjoyed everyone’s company. The supper was topped off with a glass of wine and some simple toasts to go with the easy chatter. (The passage that follows this one in Travels is probably familiar to many of you because Chastellux talks of Hamilton giving the toasts on that particular evening.) The supper must have been nice, though, and I’d imagine that it might have felt to many like a moment in which they could just… breathe. [x and Lefkowiz, pg 75-76]
Daintyfire 