Washington's Lady by Nancy Moser Page B

manage the fruits of another man’s purpose. He had his own. And my purpose . . . was to be by his side as a helpmate and partner.
    In every way.
    Although we did not know each other well, I sensed one of the traits George admired in me was my gumption and work ethic. He did not choose me above all other women hoping I would sit in the corner and look beautiful (neither the idle sitting nor being beautiful was possible); he chose me to be an integral part of his life.
    “Dearest?” he said.
    “I make the decision now. The plantation here is well established and can run without us. But Mount Vernon . . .”
    He laughed. “Needs us. Yes indeed, she needs us very badly.”
    “And we need her.”
    Our eyes held until he leaned over and kissed me. “This is but one reason I married you.”
    I showed him another.
    *****
    In but a few days we will celebrate our third month as man and wife. It was time we left White House and headed north to Mount Vernon.
    We would have left sooner but had to spend several weeks in Williamsburg while George was sworn into his post in the House of Burgesses. That this ceremony was accomplished on February 22, his twenty-seventh birthday, made it doubly special. I was utterly proud of him and had the distinct feeling there would be few times, few actions, that would not elicit that emotion. We met wonderful people there, and George was impressed by Patrick Henry and a neighbor, George Mason. He observed everything, soaking in all details regarding how our government was run.
    I had already said my good-byes to my family. Mother and Nancy were tearful, yet understood my desire—my need—to leave. They helped me determine what goods to take: my mahogany desk; six beds with all their curtains, spreads, and linens; ninety-nine napkins; some tables and chests; two cases of knives and forks; over sixty glasses; two sets of china; a tea set . . . things a bachelor like George may not own. It was my responsibility to assure we could entertain properly.
    Many of our possessions went north on a barge, for the rough roads would wreak havoc on my fine breakables. For our own portage the carriage was made ready, with another wagon following behind full of clothing and household items. Also coming with us were a number of house servants: my maid, a seamstress, a laundress, a cook, a waiter, four carpenters, and the children’s maid.
    Two children, Tiggy and Susan, were also coming, to wait on and play with Jacky and Patsy. George did not enjoy the cramped quarters of a carriage, so he planned to ride his horse alongside. He definitely was a man who enjoyed the fresh air and felt few places as natural as astride a horse.
    Finally ready, the carriage pulled away. Jacky was immediately on his knees upon the seat, peering out the window. “’Bye, house.”
    Little Patsy—always one to mimic her big brother—climbed off my lap to the seat beside me and repeated, “’Bye, house.”
    The carriage hit a rut and jogged when it should have jigged, sending Patsy off the seat. She cried and was upon my lap once more.
    “There, there,” I said. “Everything will be all right.”
    Or so I hoped.
    Although I mourned her pain, in a way ’twas a blessing, for it offered a distraction from my own good-byes. By the time she was settled and happy again, the house was out of sight.
    Just as well. Sometimes it was best not to think too much until the peak moment of sentiment was past.
    *****
    I so enjoyed watching George ride beside us. He was incredibly striking upon his horse—very regal. If this country would but have its own king, he would suit the bill. In many ways.
    Suddenly, he looked ahead, his face on full alert. Then he shouted, “Halt! Halt right here!”
    With much commotion from driver and horses, the carriage came to a stop. Had we come upon something in our way? The spring rains had washed many roads useless, replacing the dirt with rocks and branches that had already hindered our