“Because right now most of the produce of the whole Ohio Valley goes through the Port of New Orleans. Their cultural and political ties are with us, but their economic interests are with Spain, France, England, or whoever controls New Orleans.”
The General was just warming up. He went on about how religious conflict and slavery boded ill for our new nation. From all the different religious services I had seen the General go to, and my conversation with Lafayette about the General’s views on slavery, these comments did not surprise me. But the General continued on and said that the division between the East and the West was just as threatening, which in retrospect, given our recent North-South arguments, seems surprising. The General went into a rambling monologue on how crucial it was to connect the East and West with canals and roads so that the trade of the Ohio Valley and points westward would flow eastward. Of course, from his correspondence, I knew that the General’s interest in national development was interwoven with his personal financial interests. He had bought land in the Ohio Valley and western Pennsylvania. The General had always been a supporter of the Potomac Canal project to link Virginia with the Ohio Valley and his own lands. I had heard rumors that during the French and Indian War he had pushed General Braddock to march to Fort Duquesne in western Pennsylvania through northern Virginia. Some said the General urged such a course for military reasons, but others said he was trying to increase the value of his own lands along the route. In any event, General Braddock chose the Pennsylvania route, although I don’t know if that decision had anything to do with his crushing defeat. Similarly, the General’s plans for a Potomac canal never came to fruition. Instead, a couple of decades ago, New York established the link westward with the Erie Canal. While I know the General would have preferred a canal starting in Virginia, I am sure he would have been pleased with the Erie Canal and the roads that have been built.
I knew to steer away from questions about how canals and roads would affect the General’s finances. The General was incredibly sensitive about any questions regarding public decisions affecting his own financial interests. I have already told you how he turned down a salary for his wartime efforts to show his decisions were uncolored by personal considerations. Lately, with victory possible, he had received letters from several state legislatures suggesting land grants to the General in appreciation of his efforts. Knowing of his insatiable desire for land, I had been surprised at how the General delayed his responses to solicit the advice of many leaders.
Jefferson wrote back that, while accepting the grants was justified, refusing them would “enhance your reputation,” and I knew what the General’s response would be. The issue now was not only ethics but reputation, and reputation trumped all with the General. Nonetheless, I suppose it doesn’t matter why one does the right thing—as the General invariably did—if the right thing is done.
The General poured himself a second glass of Madeira. He was truly in an expansive mood. “You are of course right, Josiah, about the growing population over the coming years. But that will depend on whether we continue to stay the home for the poor, oppressed, and persecuted of the world.” Once the General got on the subject of America as the refuge of the persecuted, especially those facing religious persecution, there was no stopping him, and I knew better than to interfere.
My own upbringing as a Quaker, and living in a city such as Philadelphia, which swarmed with refugees, made me an advocate for America playing this role. But I sometimes wondered how this Virginian planter could possibly have become so enthusiastic about America as a beacon to refugees. Perhaps it was a concern for refugees; perhaps it was a desire to fill our lands. As was his wont, however, the General swerved from his idealistic goals to how to pragmatically achieve such goals. “The challenge, Josiah, is how we encourage refugees to come here without so offending their European rulers that they take actions against either the refugees or ourselves. This will involve diplomacy worthy of Franklin.”
This led the General into a discussion of what education the immigrants—or, for that matter, those already here—should receive. Nothing could make the General wax more enthusiastic than the subject of a national university. The General had received no university education—nor, as I have said, much formal education of any kind—but he still considered himself an expert on the subject. He had taken great care with his stepson Jacky’s education at King’s College in New York (I believe it is now called Columbia), although from what I heard, Jacky played more than he studied. The General envisioned most Americans going to a university, but his support for an American national university seemed based on his desire to bring students from the different states together, as well as on his fear that Americans, like some he knew, would go off to Europe for their higher education. The General was suspicious of education abroad and the European manners and habits it might encourage.
Then the General turned to what he really wanted to talk about: what he would do to improve Mount Vernon. It had always amazed me how detailed his letters were to his cousin Lund. He wrote those letters himself and just asked me to check for punctuation. It was good that he thus limited my contribution. While I understood the General when he wrote about the architecture of the house, I had little knowledge of the trees and plants that the General wrote about. Today he did not talk about the added wings, story, and colonnaded porch of which he was so proud. Instead he was thinking about Mount Vernon’s future gardens. Gardens in America, the General had decided, were too much under the influence of the English. He intended to surround Mount Vernon with the first truly American landscaping.
“Josiah, at Mount Vernon there will be no more geometric patterns and English yews and hollies clipped into balls. No, that is what too many of our countrymen think is fashionable. Instead, there will be a vast green surrounded by American trees such as white pines and hemlock from the Northeast and ash and oak trees from the South. There will be pink groves of crab apple. I will get magnolias from South Carolina.”
Lest I found this list too romantic, the General returned to the pragmatic: “All these English gardens have trails that end with statues. We will be practical. My trails will wander off and end among scented flowers with toilets painted white with a red roof. Our own honeysuckle will climb the walls and scent the air.”