Sex and the Founding Fathers: The American Quest for a Relatable Past (Sexuality Studies) Read online

  By having no children of his own, the version of Washington memorialized is free of paternal attachments. As people have long noted, this perception leaves him able to directly serve, without competition, as the father of the nation, a view that would only strengthen through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. One early-twentieth-century biographer envisions that having no children also allows Washington to be "father" of the development of the capital city. He declares, "Denied the satisfaction of children of his body, Washington put into the Federal City, child of his brain and heart, his hopes and ambitions for the future of his country.""

  Only recent biographers have become explicit about the issue of his childlessness and evidently feel the need to explain the cause. But for generations, writers have been implicitly compensating for this chip in his otherwise flawless masculine facade by crafting a depiction of Washington that demonstrates manliness in his personal life on par with his extraordinary military and political achievements.

  Domestic Ideal

  Washington's absence of children positioned him dangerously close to unmanliness both in his own life and in national remembrances of the man, given the endurance of this measure of manhood. Being childless could raise symbolic questions about one's favor with God; procreation is seen by some as divinely ordered (go forth and multiply) and also as nature's approval of one's lineage. But far from being a problem for Washington, being childless positioned him well. Indeed, to early commentators, it seemed almost providential that he had no children of his own. The childless man would either be out of favor with God or, in rare cases like Washington's, closer to God-like himself. In her history of nineteenth-century schoolbooks, Ruth Miller Elson describes the depiction of Washington in many books as near Christ-like, being delivered from Heaven for the salvation of the nation."

  This view of Washington as "father" of the nation dates to his own time. In his funeral oration, Gouverneur Morris notes that Washington was, indeed, both a faithful and loving husband and the father of the nation:

  Bound by the sacred ties of wedded love, his high example strengthened the tone of public manners. Beloved, almost adored by the amiable partner of his toils and dangers, who shared with him the anxieties of public life, and sweetened the shade of retirement, no fruit was granted to their union. No child to catch with pious tenderness the falling tear, and soothe the anguish of connubial affection.... AMERICANS! he had no child-BUT YOU-and HE WAS ALL YOUR OWN.19

  As mentioned in the introduction, in 1810, Mason Weems emphasized the importance of discussing Washington's private life, calling it "real life." Sex was a component of this aspect of life, as we can see in his reference to Benedict Arnold and his experiences with "loose women."" In the hands of biographers, Washington has served as a role model for American boys and men. Historian Francois Furstenberg points out that the focus on Washington's private life had important early national implications as well as an impact on how he was viewed: "Because Washington's fatherhood was understood so literally-and because it served as such a powerful means of uniting Americans-the eulogies dwelled on the details of his private life to learn about the precise nature of his paternity." A host of early-nineteenthcentury publications dwelled on Washington's personal life and, as Furstenberg notes, such connections had resonance at the level of national identity. Furstenberg concludes, "By focusing intensely on Washington's private life, such texts made Washington's family a matter of great political significance."21 Indeed, his domestic self would serve to unite the nation much as his public actions in the military and government had done.

  Washington's earliest biographers craft the image of a man with extraordinary virtues, an image that would serve many authors in their pursuit of extolling the morals and qualities that all Americans should seek to embody. In nineteenth-century schoolbooks, Washington serves as a "paragon of virtue." Schoolbooks of this era specifically use his biography to teach the value of "filial obedience, prudence, modesty, courtesy, [and] charitableness."22 Illustrating this function, one begins a chapter on his domestic life with these words: "I am now to present Washington to the contemplation of my young readers in a character not less worthy of their admiration, and in which they may all imitate him if they please."23 Weems's and John Marshall's books were the most widely circulated early biographies of Washington. The earliest of biographers also eroticize his image and establish that Washington was physically appealing to women-far beyond what the average man could boast. "Happy was the fairest lady of the land, who, at the crowded ball, could get Colonel Washington for her partner," writes Weems.24 Library records show a waiting list of people wanting to borrow Marshall's 1807 Life of George Washington in the early nineteenth century." And though Weems had his critics (even in 1810), his biographies were the best-selling of any in the early decades of the nineteenth century.26

  Although many Americans wanted even more of an emphasis on private life in the nineteenth century, the broader cultural goals of the writers tend to the nationalistic more than to the private. Marshall's Life of Washington was criticized because it mentions Washington very little in the first volume and focuses on American history rather than Washington's biography in the other volumes. Marshall's account "cover[s] his entire early life in a page and a half." Later accounts would spend more time on his development and youth.17

  Washington's body was also scrutinized and displayed for evidence of personal masculine integrity that could be yoked to national Republican identity. The body of a Greek god Washington may not have had, but that did not stop some nationalized imagery from insisting on this aspect of his physique, albeit in symbolically depicted statuary. In 1832, to commemorate the centennial of his birth, the U.S.Congress commissioned a statue of Washington that now sits in the Smithsonian Institution (Figure 1.4). It depicts him as a toga-wearing, half-nude, classically muscled figure, returning his commission as general of the army. The statue naturally raised eyebrows at the time of its 1840 unveiling, and some considered it unbefitting to so embody the former commander in chief.28

  In 1837, Jared Sparks published an early biography of Washington. Professor Sparks, a respected popular historian of the American Revolution, was for a time president of Harvard, and his Library of American Biography was the most respected and well-read biographical series at the time. Sparks believed biography was a legitimate genre of historical writing and based his works on documentary evidence.29 But early biographers, such as Sparks, wrote with the purpose of "adulation, not disinterested scholarship." And as we know, although he relied on documented sources, he did so by selectively editing or destroying those documents that he believed would threaten his biographical subjects' reputations.30

  Figure 1.4. Washington as a toga-wearing, half-nude, classically muscled figure, a rendering that some nineteenth-century Americans regarded as inappropriate. (George Washington. Horatio Greenough, 1840. Courtesy of the Smithsonian Museum of American History.)

  By using documentation, Sparks was one of the first to set in motion a long practice of reading love letters for evidence of early emotional attachments. In his biography of Washington, he mentions one Mary Philipse as an early crush of Washington's, and he also discusses Washington's writing about another young woman. Couching this as an early love, he explains that Washington had in his youth "felt the influence of the tender passion." "At the age of seventeen," he writes, Washington "was smitten by the graces of a fair one, whom he called a `Lowland beauty,' and whose praises he recorded in glowing strains, while wandering with his surveyor's compass among the Allegany [sic] Mountains.""

  Sparks writes little about these early romances and only marginally more about Washington's marital relationship with Martha. After discussing the transfer of wealth and assets and the assumption of guardianship for Martha's children, Sparks assesses the relationship and concludes, "This union was in every respect felicitous."32 His relatively sparse comments on Washington's early romances and marital life are undoubtedly the product of his research method
: Very few personal writings of Washington exist to shed light on love and marriage in his life. But Sparks's reticence would not have been disagreeable to his readers, because early-nineteenth-century biography does not pay close attention to the lives of wives, nor does it (yet) extensively highlight romantic sentiments. Washington's earliest biographer, Marshall, describes George and Martha in ideals befitting of the period: "Not long after his resignation, he was married to Mrs. Custis; a young lady to whom he had been for some time attached; and who, to a large fortune and fine person, added those amiable accomplishments which ensure domestic happiness, and fill, with silent but unceasing felicity, the quiet scenes of private life."33

  Sparks's depiction of Washington's private life is not unlike the mid-century version authored by Washington Irving, famed author of the "Legend of Sleepy Hollow." He, too, has little to say about the relationship of Martha and George. As it was sufficient to only discreetly establish domestic tranquility and a pattern of romantic love, Irving tersely writes of Washington's early "love" for Philipse and the unnamed "Lowland Beauty." Although not greatly elaborated, for Irving, such incidents reveal Washington to have an "early sensibility to female charms" and demonstrate that "with all his gravity and reserve, he was quickly susceptible" to them.34

  The inclusion of such information, therefore, was vital, and many in the nineteenth century believed that "private habits, not public deeds, gave the truest measure of character, and that biography should emphasize individual character over national history."35 The broader cultural goals of the writers, however, tend to emphasize the connections between the individual romantic life and national concerns. For Irving, for example, the relevance of highlighting Washington's early interest in girls is explained in his preface, where he asserts that "all his actions and concerns almost from boyhood were connected with the history of the country" and therefore, even seemingly "apparently disconnected" topics have "bearing upon the great drama in which he was the principle actor."36

  Washington's list of loves, however, would only grow through the century as the capacity for romantic love increasingly came to matter. One of three letters that Washington wrote to one Sally Fairfax also briefly contributes to the nineteenth-century depiction of Washington as a man of powerful romantic inclinations and illustrates the emphasis on documentation to support interpretations of personal life and its association with masculine character. One letter first surfaced in 1877 in one of the largest newspapers in the country, the New York Herald. The newspaper headlines the letter "A Washington Romance: A Letter from General Washington Acknowledging the Power of Love." It reads, in part:

  'Tis true, I profess myself a Votary of Love-I acknowledge that a Lady is in the Case-and further I confess that this Lady is known to you.-Yes Madam, as well as she is to one, who is too sensible of her Charms to deny the Power, whose Influence he feels and must ever Submit to. I feel the force of her amiable beauties in the recollection of a thousand tender passages that I coud [sic] wish to obliterate, till I am bid to revive them.-but experience alas! Sadly reminds me how Impossible this is.-and evinces an opinion which I have long entertained, that there is a Destiny, which has the Sovereign Controul of our Actions-not to be resisted by the Strongest efforts of Human Nature.i"

  In addition to publishing the text of the letter, the newspaper notes that it was "never before made public" and describes it as a letter to a woman to whom "George Washington once offered his hand but was refused for his friend and comrade, George William Fairfax." The newspaper is not forthcoming about the timing of Washington's alleged expression of love for Fairfax, which, according to the letter, would have taken place after his engagement to Martha. Indeed, the newspaper remarks on portions of the letter that declare love for Mrs. Custis as unintended and incorrectly reports that Mrs. Custis was still married at the time and therefore could not be someone he was romantically interested in while expressing love for Fairfax. After this very public debut, the auctioned-off letter was secretly and anonymously archived. Yet as this chapter shows, the revelations it allegedly exposes would be scrutinized by biographers for generations.

  For nineteenth-century Americans, it was relatively easy to see that Washington had a healthy interest in women and that he had successfully married and established himself as head of a prosperous household. The issue that became somewhat thorny, however, was his lack of children. No early account hides the fact that he had no children of his own. But nineteenthcentury writers do not dwell on this aspect of his life, leaving some readers to their own devices to determine this aspect of his private family life. When Weems includes at the end of his biography excerpts from Washington's will, he singles out his "affection" for Martha, as indicated by Washington's leaving his estate to her "during her life." He also mentions that "having no children," Washington left much to his nephews and nieces.38

  Writers in the nineteenth century could not anticipate that readers would ever expect an answer to the very personal question of why he had no children. Such speculation would have gone beyond the bounds of delicacy and intruded on the privacy of George and Martha. Typical accounts declare the childlessness and leave it at that: "No children had blessed the union of George Washington and Martha Custis," writes one late-nineteenth-century biographer, leaving the question of why unasked .31

  Washington may have had some influence in establishing a view of his home life as normative, despite having had no children of his own. In an early authorized biography, portions of which Washington had reviewed and approved, David Humphrey states, "Though he has no offspring, his actual family consists of eight persons: it is seldom alone."40 At the end of the nineteenth century, one writer describes him as a "devoted husband, [who] gave to his step-children the most affectionate care."" Another writes that Washington "fathered" Martha's children.42

  Even more popular and more broadly consumed than biographies were the images of Washington that were widely reprinted. The popular engravings and paintings of Washington that depict him as properly domestic reflect the portrayal found in early biographies. And while rumors abounded that highlighted Washington's virility and his early biographers were giving little attention to the reason for his childlessness, artists and printers did their part by busily fashioning an ideal head-of-household and father figure, befitting of the nineteenthcentury domestic ideal. Washington alone could serve as an individual role model. The Washington household, of which he was head, could also operate as an American icon. And, indeed, scholars have noted, "Their marriage came to serve as a model union for mid-nineteenth-century Americans."43

  Contrary to the contemporary claim that Washington has always been disembodied and only recently humanized, even the earliest images emphasize both his domestic life and his military and government successes. Echoing the biographies of the day, some nineteenth-century images also establish Washington as the romantic man. Early images include his courting of Philipse.44 Other nineteenth-century images focus on his courtship of and marriage to Martha. Many of these were often widely reproduced and copied. In addition to portraying his relationships with women, and especially his wife, painters, engravers, and other nineteenth-century images disseminate the view of Washington as the idealized father figure and head-of-household. Many images focus on Washington as the family man (Figure 1.5).

  Virtually no writers in the nineteenth century raise any questions about Washington's manhood. Biographers then move away from the early emphasis on using only documents and an approach of objectivity (an emerging concept in history) to begin including "oral lore" to supplement lacking documentation. This approach opened up the possibility of telling additional stories that could be folded into the public memory of Washington's personal life, which would only shore up his reputation as properly and successfully masculine in his private life 45 Indeed, a rumor in the 1870s, for example, suggested that Washington had actually fathered a son, but not with Martha. The Cincinnati Daily Commercial published a statement that relied on the "fact" that many
people believed that one Thomas Posey was Washington's son, although no documentation was provided .46 Posey's parents had lived as tenant farmers on one of Washington's plantations. According to the story, after Posey's mother was widowed, she and Washington had a son whose education he oversaw. In 1886, a newspaper in St. Louis, where Posey was buried, similarly reported that everyone in southern Illinois believed it to be true.47 Another undocumented rumor, this time regarding his death, also irreverently underscored Washington's sexually charged image in public memory. This story explained that Washington's death was the result of a cold he caught from leaping out a window, pants-less after a romantic encounter with an "overseer's wife."48

  Figure 1.5. Washington family portrait. (The Washington Family. Edward Savage. Oil on canvas, 1789-1796. Andrew W.Mellon Collection. Courtesy of the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.)

  Late-nineteenth-century biographies assert that Washington lacked no romantic interests in women. Like other early biographers, Woodrow Wilson, a historian by training who published several biographies before embarking on a successful career in politics, mentions Washington's early courtship of Philipse in New York. But by the end of the nineteenth century, biographers like Wilson were increasingly linking sexual interest in women to an emerging concept of normative desire and heteronormative masculinity. Wilson writes, "Mary Philipse had but taken his fancy for a moment, because he could not pass such a woman by and deem himself still a true Virginian."49 For Americans, the message was clear, and their Founder served as the delivery system: Real men desire beautiful women. Other latenineteenth-century biographers echo this point. Writes one, "There can be no doubt that Washington during the whole of his life had a soft heart for women, and especially for good-looking ones.""