Washington’s birth—his ancestors—the first school he attended—family anecdotes—death of his father.

George Washington was born in Virginia, on the 22d of February, 1732. The particular place of his birth was Pope’s Creek, Washington parish, in the county of Westmoreland. The name of his great grandfather was John Washington, who came from the north of England and settled on Pope’s Creek, in Virginia, in the year 1655. He afterwards married Miss Pope, the daughter of the gentleman from whom the Creek took its name. John Washington is believed to have been a military man in early life. His will, now at Mount Vernon, is endorsed thus: “The will of Lieutenant Colonel Washington.” This will contains a small bequest to the church, and affords evidence that he was a pious man. As the parish in which he lived has always borne his name, he was probably very instrumental in establishing it.

John Washington had three children, Lawrence, John and Ann. Lawrence Washington, the oldest son and the grandfather of George, inherited the Pope’s Creek farm.—Augustin Washington, the son of Lawrence and the father of George, was born in the year 1694. He was probably the eldest son of Lawrence, as he inherited the patrimonial estate at Pope’s Creek.

Augustin Washington was married twice. His first wife was Jane Butler, by whom he had four children, viz. Butler, Lawrence, Augustin, jun. and Jane. Butler and Jane died young. Lawrence and Augustin lived to be men. The second wife was Mary Ball, a young lady of highly respectable family in the northern part of Virginia.—George was the first fruit of this union. He was the oldest of six children, viz. George, Elizabeth, Samuel, John Augustin, Charles and Mildred. Mildred died very young.—George was baptized April the 5th, 1732.

The church of England was then almost the only denomination of Christians in the colony of Virginia. The parents of George Washington were members of this church, and brought up their family in the habit of regular attendance on public worship.

The first school that George attended, was kept by Mr. Hobby, an elderly man, who was both the school master and the sexton of the parish. By this old man, the father of his country was first taught to read. Although George’s father sent him to this school, he took upon himself the oversight of his education, and the pleasing duty of early instilling into his mind the principles of piety and virtue. His manner of doing this appears by the following anecdotes, which were related to the Rector of Mount Vernon Parish, by a venerable lady now deceased, who, as a friend and relative, spent many of her youthful days in the family.

One fine morning in the autumn of 1737, Mr. Washington, having George, then five years old, by the hand, came to the door and invited cousin Washington and myself to walk with them to the orchard, promising to show us a fine sight. On arriving at the orchard, we were presented with a fine sight indeed. The ground, as far as we could see, was covered with mellow apples, and yet the trees were bending under the weight of their fruit. “George,” said his father, “don’t you remember, my son, when this good cousin of yours brought you that fine large apple, last spring, that I could hardly prevail upon you to divide it with your brothers and sisters? And don’t you remember I then told you we ought to be generous to each other because the Almighty is so bountiful to us?” Poor George could not say a word, but hanging down his head, looked quite confused. “Now look around, my son,” continued his father, “and see how kindly the Almighty has treated us, and learn from this how we ought to treat our fellow creatures.” George looked a while in silence on the abundance of fruit before him, then lifting his eyes to his father, he said, with emotion, “Well, father, only forgive me this time, and see if I am ever so stingy any more.”

Mr. Augustine Washington took great pains early to inspire his son George with the love of truth. The following anecdote shows that his endeavors were not without success.

When George was about six years old, he became the owner of a hatchet, with which, like most other little boys, he was very much delighted. He went about chopping every thing that came in his way. One day, in the garden, he unluckily tried the edge of his hatchet upon the body of a beautiful young English cherry tree, which he cut so badly that the tree never recovered from the injury. The next morning his father seeing what had befallen the tree, which, by the by, was a great favorite with him, came into the house, and with much warmth, asked who had done the mischief, declaring at the same time, that he would not have taken five guineas for the tree.—Nobody could tell him any thing about it. Presently George and his hatchet made their appearance. “George,” said his father, “do you know who cut that beautiful cherry tree yonder in the garden?” George was taken by surprise. He hesitated for a moment; but he soon recovered himself.—Looking at his father, he said, “I will not tell a lie, father, I cut it with my hatchet.” The delighted father, embracing his child, said, “No matter about the tree, George; you have frankly told me the truth. Though you saw I was offended, you were not afraid to do right. The pleasure I enjoy to witness this noble conduct in my son is of more value to me than a thousand such trees.”

Mr. Washington took the following method to impress upon his son the existence and wisdom of God from the evidence of design in his works.

On a bed in the garden, well prepared for the purpose, he traced with a stick the letters of his son’s name. He then very carefully sowed seed in the small furrows made by the stick, covered it over and smoothed the ground nicely with a roller. In a few days the seed came up, and exhibited in large letters, the words George Washington.—They soon caught the eye for which they were intended. Again and again the astonished boy read his name, springing up from the earth, fresh and green. He ran to his father and exclaimed, “O father! come here! come with me and I will show you such a sight as you never saw in all your life.” Eagerly seizing his father’s hand, he tugged him along through the garden to the spot. “Look there, father,” said he, “did you ever see such a sight before?” “It is a curious affair, indeed, George.” “But, father, who made my name there?” “It grew there, my son.” “I know it grew there, but who made the letters so as to spell my name?” “Did they not grow so by chance, my son?” “O no, sir, they never grew so by chance.” “Why not, my son?” “Nobody,” said George, “ever saw a single letter grow up by chance; and how could a whole name grow up so even and be spelled so exactly right by chance? Somebody planted it so.” “That is true, George. I planted it so,” said Mr. Washington, and showed him how he did it. “Now, George, if letters could not grow so as to spell your name by chance, how could the world and all the things and creatures in it be made so exactly suited to each other and to some useful purpose, by chance?”

Thus happily and profitably to young Washington passed the days of his earliest years. Mr. Washington’s family government was steady and reasonable; his treatment of his children was kind and affectionate. George was an intelligent boy and a dutiful son. Never were parent and child more strongly attached. But, in the providence of God, only a few years more were to be allowed them for the enjoyment of each other’s society, on earth.

About the year 1739, when George was about seven years old, his father removed from his estate on Pope’s Creek to a farm which he owned in Stafford county, on the Rappahannock river, directly opposite to Fredericksburg.

Lawrence Washington, the elder of George’s two half-brothers, became of age in 1739, and soon afterwards received a Captain’s commission in a regiment raised in America, and served with the British forces in the unsuccessful siege of Carthagena, conducted by Admiral Vernon and General Wentworth. Having been absent in the army about two years, Captain Washington returned to Virginia. A few months after his return, his father was taken ill.—George was then on a visit to some of his acquaintances, living in Chotanct, in King George county, about twenty miles from his father’s residence. Mr. Washington was at first unwilling to interrupt George in the enjoyment of his visit; but after his sickness became alarming, George was sent for, and reached home but just in time to receive the parting blessing of his beloved father. He died on the 12th of April, 1743, at the age of forty-nine years. George was then eleven years old.