Young folks' centennial rhymes | ||
THREE SCENES OF A HERO'S LIFE.
Not long after the birth of George Washington, his father removed to
an estate in Stafford County, opposite Fredericksburg. The house stood
on a rising ground overlooking a meadow which bordered the Rappahannock
River. This was the home of George's boyhood; the meadow was
his playground and the scene of his early sports. But this home, like
that in which he was born, has disappeared; the site is only to be
traced by fragments of bricks, china, and earthenware.
George was yet in early childhood. As his intellect dawned, he received
the rudiments of education in the best establishment for the purpose
that the neighborhood afforded. It was what was called an “old
field school-house,” kept by one of his father's tenants, named Hobby,
who was also sexton of the parish.—
Irving's Life of Washington.
Not long after the birth of George Washington, his father removed to an estate in Stafford County, opposite Fredericksburg. The house stood on a rising ground overlooking a meadow which bordered the Rappahannock River. This was the home of George's boyhood; the meadow was his playground and the scene of his early sports. But this home, like that in which he was born, has disappeared; the site is only to be traced by fragments of bricks, china, and earthenware.
George was yet in early childhood. As his intellect dawned, he received the rudiments of education in the best establishment for the purpose that the neighborhood afforded. It was what was called an “old field school-house,” kept by one of his father's tenants, named Hobby, who was also sexton of the parish.—
Irving's Life of Washington.I.
Half serious, half grotesque,
And no one else within that place,
Sat writing at his desk;
To make his boys rehearse;
Writing wise copies very bad,
For them to copy worse.
And desks in stern array;
From boys outside there came a sound,
Hard-working at their play.
“You are the thief, not I!”
And back again the angry word
Came, loud and clear, “You lie!”
Across the dusty floor,
A pair of ragged-slippered feet
His lean old body bore;
(Unseen from out the yard),
Into a broken glass-pane's place,
He watched and listened hard.
Two boys stood, fast to fight;
Both savage-eyed and angry-faced,
Shouting with all their might.
And turned to seek the door,
I'll whip the scamps full sore.”
As if from one in doubt,
Crying above the tumult, “Boys,
Why don't you leave it out?”
And he at last replied,
“I'll leave it to George Washington,
To no one else beside.”
When George appeared, and said,
“Since you have left it unto me,
Thus to decide I'm led:
This boy has lost by you;
And from your somewhat blemished name,
I rather think 'tis true.
In payment for your tricks
Against your friend, I hereby charge
That you shall pay him six.
Your playmate's top have broke;
And, from the deeds for which you're famed,
I fear 'tis truly spoke.
The making toys to do;
So you the broken top shall mend,
And give him one that's new.”
Thinking what should be done;
And the young umpire, with a smile,
Was calmly looking on.
Each passion-heated head,
And both declared they would not do
What had to them been said.
“You left the case to me;
I took pains justly to decide,
From all that I could see.
For foolish fight equipped;
To see the other whipped.
But both are bound to fight,
I'll whip you both—I think I can—
And that will set it right.”
In every time of need;
And each stepped back a pace or two,
And with the terms agreed.
His duties to rehearse,
And went to making copies bad,
For them to copy worse;
Of all my lads is best,
Who, when 'tis fitting to be done,
Can govern all the rest.
And when his mind was set,
Stood ready to enforce his laws,
May rule a nation yet.”
II.
MOTHER.For out on the broad blue ocean the good ship waits to go.
When Washington was fourteen years of age, he had a great desire to enter the British navy. It was necessary, however, to first get the consent of his mother, his father having died when he was eleven years old. After a great deal of urging, she consented to let him go; and his brother obtained for him the position of midshipman on a vessel of war, which, at that time, was anchored in the Potomac River, just below Mount Vernon. His baggage was all on board the ship, and he came to his mother to bid her good-bye; but at the last moment her heart failed her, and she took back her words of consent, and begged of him not to go. Rather than grieve her so sadly, he gave up his plan, had his baggage brought back to the house, and staid at home. Had he entered upon a sailor's life, he might never have become the leading general of the American Revolution.
Many a love-made token is safe for you on board.
Soon on the wide, free ocean your gallant ship will sail.
Do not let your courage be cowed by my rising tears;
Only a loving mother can speak a mother's word.
Long I my soul have flattered this cup would pass from me.
Manhood's bravery sparkles in the heart of a healthy boy.
As tossed in the rude gale's dangers, as drenched by the savage deep,
Comes to my lips a yearning to plead you still to stay!
SON.
And sure there are some death-gales, and one may come to me;
And boys soon grow to manhood, and men were made to dare.
Your love would melt to pity were I not strong and brave;
I would have you love me, mother, and proud of me besides.
MOTHER.
A glory of love and honor that shines for the brave and true.
You by maids and matrons with laurel wreaths were crowned.
Where to your brave endeavors was victory denied;
Maids and matrons waited with laurel wreaths for you.
Heart-born blessings hovered about your noble name.
Still in my heart is a yearning to plead you still to stay!
SON.
But there are ports of honor that sailors enter in.
If for my brow a chaplet awaiting there may be,
Why can I not go find it upon the merry sea?
Upon both land and water true courage burns the same.
And that is something noble for any one to do.
MOTHER.
Who can reject the logic with which you pave your way?
Then is my cause defeated, and your decision made.
E'en when the brain speaks loudest, the heart will have its word.
And as the hour approaches, I will not let you go!
SON.
I e'er have had a longing to live upon the main;
And it is quite another to break a mother's heart.
I will not leave you grieving; I still will tarry here.
To sail across the ocean a solid ship of gold.
III.
Shone the smiling April sun;
Maids and matrons waited there
For the honored Washington.
After the War of the Revolution was over, and the Americans had gained their independence, the question arose, Who should be the first President? Washington was elected to the place, and, much against his wishes, consented to serve. When peace was declared, he had gone back to his home at Mount Vernon, on the Potomac River, and hoped to spend the rest of his life there, quietly and easily, as a farmer. But the country would not consent to that; and, on the 16th of April, 1789, he started for Philadelphia, which was then the capital of the United States, to be inaugurated as President. His way took him through Trenton, New Jersey, where, a number of years before, he had spent a gloomy night, trying to outwit the British general, Cornwallis, and had succeeded in doing so. On a bridge, crossing the stream which flows through that city, the ladies had raised an arch, twined with evergreens and laurels, under which he was to pass. Upon it were the words, “The defenders of the mothers will be the protectors of the daughters.” A number of young girls, dressed in white, marched before him, and strewed flowers, singing, meanwhile, a song in his praise. The day was clear; the sun shone brightly; crowds of happy people were present; and Washington could not help noticing and feeling the difference between this beautiful day and the gloomy night he had spent upon the same river with his little army, twelve years before.
Down the river's peaceful side
Calm and stately he did ride;
On his proud and prancing steed,
He a hero looked indeed.
Voices loud on every hand
Named him bravest of the brave,
Riding down to rule the land
He had struggled there to save.
Long he fought through weary hours,
Now his tall and noble form
Rode beneath an arch of flowers.
Many a blessing sweet and kind
In the tasteful wreaths was twined;
Many a kiss of purest love
Clustered in the bloom above:
And the words, with meaning fraught,
Met his eyes, in golden hue,
“He who for the mothers fought
Will protect the daughters, too.”
Clad in robes of purest white,
Maidens marched, with reverent tread,
Strewing flowers for his delight.
From beneath the welcome feet
Blessings flashed, his eyes to greet;
From above the stately head
Blessings fresh and true were shed;
From the eager watching throng
Came the praise of great deeds done,
“Welcome, noble Washington!”
On the pageant-glittering stream,
She her heart to Heaven had raised,
Full of thanks for that bright dream;
But the scene she would have eyed
With no look of pompous pride,
And the praise she would have heard
With no proud, exultant word;
But one prayer had struggled through,
Fully answered yet to be;
“Make him to his country true,
As he e'er has been to me.”
Young folks' centennial rhymes | ||