money; at the same time he cast a fortune worth at least three quarters of a million into the scale — to be forfeited should the Revolution fail. But the greatest of all his traits was a manly self-poise founded upon the most perfect self-control. He was withal essentially human, full of feeling, emotional, sympathetic, and sometimes passionate. He was fond of society, conversed well, enjoyed humor in a quiet way, and was sensitive to the beauty and open to the appeal of a good story.
While loyal to every duty, and closeted with Jay, Hamilton, and Knox for hours each day in shaping the conduct of the departments, he found time for healthful recreation. The citizens of New York grew accustomed to his appearance upon the streets in one or another of his numerous equipages, or on horseback, and on foot. His diary throws many a domestic and private light upon the pleasing picture. He tells us, for instance, how after visiting the Vice-President and his wife one afternoon, at Richmond Hill, with Mrs. Washington, in the post-chaise, he walked to Rufus King’s to make a social call, “and neither Mr. King nor his lady was at home, or to be seen.” On another occasion he sent tickets to Mrs. Adams, Mrs. Greene, General Philip and Mrs. Schuyler, Secretary and Mrs. Hamilton, and Mr. and Mrs. Rufus King, inviting them to seats in his box at the little John Street theater. Music commenced and the audience rose the moment Washington and his friends entered the building. The play was Daily's Return, written by William Dunlap. Darby, an Irish lad, proceeded to recount his adventures in New York and elsewhere, to his friends in Ireland. Washington smiled at the humorous allusion to the change in the government:—
A revolution without blood or blows;
For, as I understood, the cunning elves,
The people all revolted from themselves."
But at the lines:—
Like me, had left his farm a soldiering to go,
Then having gained his point, he had, like me,
Returned, his own potato ground to see.
But there he could not rest. With one accord
He is called to be a kind of — not a lord —
I don’t know what; he’s not a great man, sure,
For poor men love him just as he were poor";
the eyes of the audience were fixed curiously upon the President, who changed color slightly, and looked serious; when Kathleen asked,
“How looked he, Darby? Was he short, or tall?”
2
