140 M’Guire, Religious Opinions, p. 159. “It may be added that besides the individual named above as having witnessed the private devotions of General Washington at Valley Forge, it is known that General Knox also was an accidental witness of the same, and was fully apprised that prayer was the object of the Commander’s frequent visits to the grove. This officer was especially devoted to the person of the Commander-in-Chief, and had very free and familiar access to him, which may in some measure account for his particular knowledge of his habits. That an adjacent wood should have been selected as his private oratory, while regularly encamped for the winter, may excite the inquiry of some. The cause may possibly be found in the fact that, in common with the officers and soldiers of the army, he lodged during that winter in a log hut, which, from the presence of Mrs. Washington, and perhaps other inmates, and the fewness of the apartments, did not admit of that privacy proper for such a duty.”
141 WGW, vol. 7, 4-15-1777.
142 Ibid., vol. 7, 4-12-1777. To Edmund Pendleton.
143 Henry C. Watson, “Story of General Washington” in Old Bell of Independence, or, Philadelphia in 1776 (Philadelphia: Lindsay & Blakiston, 1851), pp. 19-23.
“Grandfather,” said Thomas Jefferson Harmar, “won’t you tell us something about General Washington?” “I could tell you many a thing about that man, my child,” replied old Harmar, “But I suppose people know everything concerning him by this time. You see, these history writers go about hunting up every incident relating to the war, now, and after a while they’ll know more about it – or say they do- than the men who were actors in it.”
“That’s not improbable,” said young Harmar. “These historians may not know as much of the real spirit of the people at that period, but that they should be better acquainted with the mass of facts relating to battles and to political affairs is perfectly natural.” The old man demurred, however, and mumbled over, that nobody could know the real state of things who was not living among them at the time.
“But the little boy wants to hear a story about Washington,” said Wilson. “Can’t you tell him something about the man? I think I could. Any one who wants to appreciate the character of Washington, and the extent of his services during the Revolution, should know the history of the campaign of 1776, when every body was desponding, and thinking of giving up the good cause. I tell you, if Washington had not been superior to all other men, that cause must have sunk into darkness.”
“You say well,” said Smith. “We, who were at Valley Forge, know something of his character.” “I remember an incident,” said Wilson, “that will give you some idea, Mrs. Harmar, of the heart of George Washington had in his bosom. I suppose Mr. Harmar has told you something of the sufferings of our men during the winter we lay at Valley Forge. It was a terrible season. It’s hard to give a faint idea of it in words; but you may imagine a party of men, with ragged clothes and no shoes, huddled around a fire in a log hut – the snow about two feet deep on the ground, and the wind driving fierce and bitter through the chinks of the rude hovel. Many of the men had their feet frost-bitten, and there were no remedies to be had, like there is now-a-days. The sentinels suffered terribly, and looked more like ghosts than men, as they paced up and down before the lines of huts.”
“I wonder the men didn’t all desert,” remarked Mrs. Harmar. “They must have been uncommon men.” “They were uncommon men, or at least, they suffered in an uncommon cause,” replied Wilson. “But about General Washington. He saw how the men were situated, and I really believe, his heart bled for them. He would write to Congress of the state of affairs, and entreat that body to procure supplies; but, you see, Congress hadn’t the power to comply. All it could do was to call on the States, and await the action of their Assemblies.
“Washington’s head-quarters was near the camp, and he often came over to see the poor fellows, and to try to soothe and comfort them; and, I tell you, the men loved that man as if he had been their father, and would rather have died with him than have lived in luxury with the red-coat general.
“I recollect a scene I beheld in the next hut to the one in which I messed. An old friend, named Josiah Jones, was dying. He was lying on a scant straw bed, with nothing but rags to cover him. He had been sick for several days, but wouldn’t go under the doctor’s hands, as he always said it was like going into battle, certain of being killed. One day, when we had no notion of anything of the kind, Josiah called out to us, as we sat talking near his bed, that he was dying, and wanted us to pray for him. We were all anxious to do anything for the man, for we loved him as a brother; but as for praying, we didn’t exactly know how to go about it. To get clear of the service, I ran to obtain the poor fellow a drink of water to moisten his parched lips.
“While the rest were standing about, not knowing what to do, some one heard the voice of General Washington in the next hut, where he was comforting some poor wretches who had their feet almost frozen off. Directly, he came to our door, and one of the men went and told him the state of things. Now, you see, a commander-in-chief might have been justified in being angry that the regulations for the sick had been disobeyed, and have turned away; but he was a nobler sort of man than could do that. He entered the hut, and went up to poor Josiah, and asked him how he was. Josiah told him the he felt as if he was dying, and wanted some one to pray for him. Washington saw that a doctor could do the man no good, and he knelt on the ground by him and prayed. We all knelt down too; we couldn’t help it. An old comrade was dying, away from his home and friends, and there was our general kneeling by him, with his face turned towards heaven, looking, I thought, like an angel’s. Well, he prayed for Heaven to have mercy on the dying man’s soul; to pardon his sins; and to take him to Himself; and then he prayed for us all. Before the prayer was concluded, Josiah’s spirit had fled, and his body was cold and stiff. Washington felt the brow of the poor fellow, and, seeing that his life was out, gave the men directions how to dispose of the corpse, and then left us to visit the other parts of the camp.”
“That was, indeed, noble conduct,” said young Harmar. “Did he ever speak to you afterwards about violating the regulations of the army?” “No,” replied Wilson. “He knew that strict discipline could not be, and should not have been maintained in that camp. He was satisfied if we were true to the cause amid all our sufferings.”
“Praying at the death-bed of a private,” mused Smith aloud. “Well, I might have conjectured what he would do in such a case, from what I saw of him. I wonder if history ever spoke of a greater and better man?”
Young Mr. Harmar here felt inclined to launch out into an elaborate panegyric on the character of Washington, but reflected that it might be out of place, and therefore contented himself with remarking, “We shall ne’er look upon his like again.”
“He was a dear, good man,” remarked Mrs. Harmar.
“Yes,” said old Harmar, “General Washington was the main pillar of the Revolution. As a general, he was vigilant and skilful; but if he had not been anything more, we might have been defeated and crushed by the enemy. He had the love and confidence of the men, on account of his character as a man, and that enabled him to remain firm and full of hope when his countrymen saw nothing but a gloomy prospect.”
144 Sparks, The Writings of George Washington, vol. II, p. 54.
145 The London Chronicle for 1779, Sept. 21-23.
146 Custis, Recollections, p. 493.
147 Sparks, The Writings of George Washington, vol. III.491.
148 Meade, Old Churches, vol. II, p. 492.
149 Solder and Servant Series: Mrs. Alexander Hamilton Witness that George Washington was A Communicant of the Church (Church Missions Publishing Company Feb. 1932), pp. 3-4. General Burgoyne’s soldiers had burned her father’s house at Albany in October, 1777. John Fiske says that “As the poor soldiers marched on the 17th of December [1777] to their winter quarters [at Valley Forge], their route could be traced on the snow by the blood that oozed form bare, frost-bitten feet.” And, “On the morning of the 18th of June, 1778, the rear-guard of the British marched out of Philadelphia, and before sunset the American advance marched in, and took possession of the city.” Apparently the homeless daughter of the colonial general found domicile with her father in what an English writer, the Rt. Hon. Sir George Otto Trevelyan, has said, “bids fair to be the most celebrated encampment in the world’s history.” General Burgoyne afterward expressed to General Schuyler his regret for the burning of his home.”
150 WGW, vol. 17, 1-29-1780.
151 Ibid., vol. 11, 4-12-1778.
152 Israel Evans, A Discourse, Delivered, on the 18th Day of December, 1777.
CHAPTER 20
1 WGW, vol. 26, 6-8-1783, Circular to the States.
2 Bishop William Meade, Old Churches and Families of Virginia, 1857, II, pp. 254-55.
3 Boller, George Washington & Religion, p 15.
4 Ibid., p 18.
5 Ibid., p 17.
6 Moncure D. Conway, The Religion of George Washington in the Open Court, October 24, 1889.
7 Letter to Jared Sparks from Nelly Custis.
8 Meade, Old Churches, vol. II, p.491-492. No. XXIII.
9 E. C. M’Guire, Religious Opinions, p. 411.
10 M’Guire, Religious Opinions, p. 414.
11 Meade, Old Churches, vol. II, p.490ff. No. XXIII.
Further Statements Concerning the Religious Character of Washington and the Question Whether He Was a Communicant or Not. Extract from a letter of the Reverend Dr. Berrian, of New York, to Mrs. Jane Washington, of Mount Vernon, in answer to some inquiries about General Washington during his residence in New York as President of the United States: -
“About a fortnight since I was administering the Communion to a sick daughter of Major Popham, and, after the service was over, happening to speak on this subject, I was greatly rejoiced to obtain the information which you so earnestly desired.
