Mt. Vernon is close to Alexandria, Virgina, 15 miles outside of Washington, D. C.
Map courtesy of World Atlas
On to Maryland, Washington, D. C. and Virginia
It’s just a short plane ride
from Boston, where I said a reluctant good-bye to my good friends, Pat and Bill,
to Baltimore, Maryland. I planned to spend a few days there with another couple
I met on that fantastic trip to Great Britain, Chuck and Paula. We became
instant friends while on the tour and I really looked forward to spending more
time with them. A couple determined to enjoy every minute of every day, I knew
it would be a week to remember!
When Paula asked me what I
wanted to see during my visit with them, I crossed my fingers and gave her my
wish list. I said, “I’d like to see Mt. Vernon, Washington, D. C., Monticello
and anything else you’d like to show me!” I’m glad I asked because Chuck and
Paula gave me the royal tour, going above and beyond anything I could have
imagined. Not only did we see everything on my list, they also took me to D. C.
twice,
the seaport town of Annapolis, and Montpelier, James and Dolley Madison’s home
in Virginia. Plus, they hosted two dinner parties for friends and neighbors to
meet me and generally wined and dined me like a Dowager Duchess. In fact,
they just about wore me out! Allowed only two cups of coffee before I was
hustled into the car for a day filled with nonstop sightseeing, we didn’t come
home until late every night. And, I loved it!
First stop: Mt. Vernon and
George’s Teeth
Situated high on a grassy
knoll overlooking the Potomac River, Mt. Vernon is only about 15 miles outside
of Washington, D. C. Getting there took us through lush rolling hills scattered
with fine looking horses; a perfect example of a bygone era of refined
plantation living.
Shortly after arriving at Mt.
Vernon, the visitor is first ushered into a world-class museum. Like honored guests,
they’re met by George and Martha, or at least life-size bronze statues of them,
and two of their grandchildren, who seem to be rushing by on their way to
somewhere on the plantation. Martha, barely 5 feet tall, doesn’t even come up
to George’s shoulder and you can just imagine that it takes her two steps to
his one just to keep up! The fluid, life-like movement of the bronzes set the
stage for this museum that turned out to be one like no other I’ve ever seen.
Consisting of seven galleries
and two theaters, the museum has over 500 items from the Washington’s lives. The
curators made Washington the man almost real. They placed life-sized avatars of
him in the clothes he wore, surrounded by his personal possessions--so life-like
I waited for him to move. Vignettes of him sitting regally on horseback in full
military uniform, and being sworn in as President of the United States, show
him handsome and tall, with a natural
leader’s grace and bearing, effortlessly commanding respect.
And yet, around a corner I found a set of his false teeth and the myth became the man. Washington suffered
from periodontal disease, and despite his best efforts eventually lost all of
his teeth. His dentures, a horrid contraption made of hinged metal plates
embedded with teeth made from hippopotamus ivory, are a vivid reminder that he
lived everyday in discomfort and pain having to wear these torturous things. I
could not imagine trying to talk with that contraption in my mouth let alone eat
with them. (Washington had many sets of teeth made, but the only complete set
is in the Mt. Vernon museum.)
Before leaving the museum to
see the house, we stepped into one of the theaters to see a movie called “We
Fight to Be Free”. Twenty-five minutes long, it starts with Washington as a
young man in the French and Indian Wars, then follows his courtship and
marriage to Martha Dandridge Custis, a wealthy widow with two children, and
ends with the bitter battles of the Revolutionary War. The massive screen wraps
around the audience, enveloping and drawing us in. I swear my seat moved with
the waves during Washington’s crossing of the Delaware River and I felt real
snowflakes falling from the sky! I heard as well as felt the rumble of the far
off cannons as I strained to see through the fog. At the end, I was moved to
tears when a tired leader finally made it back home to his family after eight
long years of war. It is undoubtedly one of the best interactive museum experiences
I have ever had! Really well done!
The front of the house, outbuildings and gardens.
It Pays to Be Last
After going through most of
the galleries, we made the trek up the hill to Mt. Vernon, the home. Being
mid-afternoon, the crowds had thankfully thinned, but even then a sizable
group of us lined up to go through the house. Bunched together in a tightly
packed clump, we shuffled awkwardly through the tight corridors dodging heads
and elbows as we labored to see into the rooms. “No photographs allowed!” the
docents warned. “No touching either!” Eventually,
I found myself outside and thoroughly disgruntled that I hadn’t seen or
learned much of anything.
Slave's quarters, workshops and blacksmith's shop
We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around
enjoying the view of the Potomac River from Washington’s piazza (his back
porch), and going through the outbuildings where the kitchens, work spaces and
slaves quarters are. We met some real blacksmiths demonstrating how tools were
made on the farm, and docents acting like George and Martha. One of the guides
whispered that “George” would only answer if you called him “The General”. So,
I asked “The General” if I could take his picture.
“Mr. General, Sir! May I capture your likeness
with this small box?” which he granted me permission to do with unsmiling dignity and I
actually had to stop myself from bowing!
Then suddenly, I looked around
and realized everyone had left except for the docents and the three of us. With
time remaining on the clock, one of the docents I’d been chatting with
asked if we wanted a private tour of the house! I jumped at the chance, while
Paula and Chuck elected to sit outside in the cool breeze.
I could not believe my luck!
This time when I entered the home, I felt like a guest. The docents stood
silently by and allowed me free rein to wander the halls. I couldn’t go into
the rooms, but I could clearly see into them and in doing so, my imagination
took flight. At the foot of the staircase I imagined George Washington pausing
to look at his prized possession, the framed key to the Bastille that his close
friend and frequent visitor, the Marquis de Lafayette gave to him. I could see
laughing children running up the ornate staircase in the spacious entryway,
hanging onto the banister as they went.
The small dining room, waiting
for the family to sit down and eat, boasted walls of bright emerald green.
Washington was proud of that color and had personally selected it. The intense,
saturated color was expensive and fitting for a house like his.
Leaving the entryway, I walked
through a small yellow guest bedroom and climbed a modest set of narrow stairs
to the second floor to George and Martha’s bedroom. A spacious room with a
fireplace, upholstered chairs, and pictures of the grandchildren, it is
comfortable and unpretentious. But, it is the canopied bed that I couldn’t stop
looking at. It is where George Washington died. In 1799, just two years after
retiring to his home, he became gravely ill after riding his horse in cold and
snowy weather. Doctors came right away, but were powerless to do anything but
comfort him until he died. His last words were, “I die hard, but I’m not
afraid.”
The bed and bedroom were never used again. Martha moved her bedroom
to the third floor. She died three years later.
Alone in
his home and just inches from where he died, I felt a profound connection with George; no
longer the tall, strong general, but a fragile and finite human being, someone
like all of us who has experienced love, desire, anger and pain. I consider it a privilege to have been allowed this private moment.
The docents walked down the
hill with us and waved good-bye. Sometimes it pays to be last.
Next time: Washington, D. C.
Good read: “1776” by David McCullough. Although interesting it’s
not compelling, and frankly, it took me several tries to get through it, but
I’m glad I finally finished it. I learned a great deal about George Washington
and this decisive year in the Revolutionary War.
Thanks
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