ALJ,,„OWAY AN ODE i Q n A Class E^^l- CDPOUGHT DEPOSm z ^/^ /€j^£/ /~l/-6x--^ ^n mt TO THE MEMORY OF OUR COUNTRY'S FATHER. CHARLES ROZELL ALLOWAY MILWAUKEE, WIS. 1908 COPYRIGHT, 190S BY CHARLES R. ALLOVVAY fuisARY of OONU^.F.S^ J wo copies rtectt:*->J MAY 11 1908 At>r \0 1^6^ '^'' ''^ ' Ningta mftng PREFACE X PRESENTING this little poem to the public, I have endeavored to give a correct history of George A\^ashington in concise form ; and beginniiJg' swith the year 1657, have included four generations of the AA^ashington family. I have also attempted to show the sterling- qualities and beautiful traits of character of both George and Martha \\^ashington, which led to a united and harmonious life wherein noble and unselfish work was perfected. It has been my aim to have this composi- tion of George Washington's life prove of great benefit to all, enabling each one to over- come the obstacles of life, and filling each heart with love and respect for this great spirit, and true patriotism at all times. Cpiarles Rozell Alloway. GEORGE WASHINGTON OUR COUNTRY'S FATHER In the year 1657, on the banks of the Potomac fair, John AA'ashington, a man of EngHsh parent- age, settled there. And after thirteen years of battle against life's stnrdy stream. Lord Cnlpepper of England satisfied his earth- ly dream By granting him a tract of land — 8,000 acres in all. Abont half of this was timbered with trees both laroe and small. The remaining half into five separate farms was made And tilled by negro slaves with the plow, hoe and spade. And now into onr tale fair Cnpid he has crept; The stnrdy Angnstine, sweet Jane Bntler has met. They, of course, were married. 'Tis said their love was very warm. And to them two cheerful sons were born. After a few years of l^eaiitiful wedded life, Death came and took from him this loving little wife. With this he was not discouraged but on through life he went ; He had fully resolved with Fate to be content. So upon one bright morn in Old Virginia, the story goes. He met Miss Mary Ball and to her did pro- pose. Here are the two grand-parents of our coun- try, so to speak — The sturdy Augustine with his Mary, kind and meek. Upon the twenty-second of February, Seven- teen Thirty-two, An heir was born to cheer the home of this ever happy two. Four more were ])orn in this happy home But the first one, George, he stood alone. In his vouth he was a truthful and obedient chifd ; And from the tale of the cherry tree we find him meek and mild. He grew into nobility enwrapped in noble thought. The selfishness of life by him w^as never taught. That he was a firm believer in honesty by all was understood. And believed in doing no evil if he could do no good. To all those around him he would cite the Golden Rule ; He was a real graduate of that good old hon- est school. In Seventeen Fifty-eight, when from military duties he retired. General Braddock said he was a soldier that was to be admired. When this young soldier was free from camp and field. He joined \'irginia's House of Burgesses — his constituents to shield; And there for a number of years in legislative work did toil. Leaving not a mar upon his memory to his native soil. This Noble Sage on January the seventeenth, Seventeen Fifty-nine, Was married to Martha Dandridge Custis, a widow then twenty-nine. When married, this v/idow a most beautiful daughter Eleanor had And a son George, a bright and cheerful lad. These both, at the death of Major John Parke Custis, Were adopted by George Washington through a Court of Justice. To George and ^Martha no heirs were ever born But their true love was ever bright and warm. Thus a most gladsome life at Mount Vernon extending Through sixteen tranquil years his loved bride attending. AVashington was an attentive lover and hus- band, A thorough farmer; and at his leisure, a jolly sportsman. His bruised arms he thought were hung up through all Eternity. He thought now to live a life of real serenity. 10 But this was not yet to be, for in Seventeen Seventy-five The war for American Independence began to thrive. And he, as Commander-in-Chief of the Army of this Continent, During the entire struggle seldom to Mount Vernon went. In Philadelphia, with that grand old bell. The end of British rule was tolled full well ; And on July fourth, Seventeen Seventy-six, American independence was forever fixed. And its declaration by him was signed. With true love for his country foremost in mind. America's freedom was sounded to all, \\^ith that good, old Liberty Bell at Indepen- dence Hall. And when this war was over, liberty being- sure, George Washington retired to his home and wife so pure. And for five years the mansion was full of dis- tinguished guests 11 MARTHA WASHINGTON Who came to pay homage to this Patriot and Soldier so blessed, A\'ho had achieved his country's absolute liberty From the heavy yoke of British tyranny. Once more he became a tiller of Old Virginia's soil And thoroughly resolved to shut out all tur- moil, And live now a pure life of cpiietude With Martha dear, to him the Queen of Wo- manhood. In Seventeen Eighty-four, he sent LaFayette his thanks And said, "I'm a private citizen upon the Po- tomac's banks. Here under the shade of my own vine and fig tree From the bustle of camp and public life, I'm free. I'm solacing myself with the tranquil fruit Of a true born soldier who is ever in Fame's pursuit. And a Noble Statesman whose watchful days and sleepless nights Are spent in devising schemes for his coun- trv's rio-hts. Our conquered ones do great sorrow feel. But we whipped them fairlv upon the battle- field." He thought to now retire from public em- ployment And to live once more at home with his family was bent. Envious of none, he was determined to be pleased with all. This, dear friends, was the order of his Alarch and Call. His wish Vs^as to move quietly down the stream of life And peacefully rest beside his Fathers — free from Care and Strife. A life of quietude for him was not yet to be ; From the duties of his country he was not wholly free. On the fourteenth of April, Seventeen Eighty- nine, A messenger rode up to his door with a look sublime : ''Hail to the Xoble George of Mount Vernon," said he, "Dear Sir, I address you as the Father of our Country, 14 And as ^Messenger from Congress I am sent — With these glad tidings to bring you I'm sure I am content — That by a unanimous vote with all true dex- terity You've been elected First President of the United States of America, And with the assumption of your office im- mediately The Congressmen beg to be Yours Most Obediently." So two days later Washington departed for New York To be inaugurated and take up his new work. There were great ovations in towns and cities through which he passed And he reached the great metropolis midst a Jubilee at last. He took the oath of office in April, the thir- tieth day, And was an active President the First day of May. The following eight years to his honest duties bent And only for vacations he to ]Mount Vernon went. ]-» He was faithful to his trusts in his many pub- He ealls. Guided by true justice ; he shunned disgrace- ful brawls. Xo taint of dishonor had e'er his character marred; The distorted thoughts of evil by him w^ere ever barred. ]\Iarch fourth. Seventeen Xinety-seven, he at- tended the inauguration Of John Q. Adams, the Second President of our Xation. He then, retired to his ever loving fireside To live in quietude Vx-ith ]\Iartha, his faithful bride. During these two years and nine months of his last days As he retired from office with the fading of life's rays. He never ventured twenty miles from home Leaving his loved ones and ^lartha dear, alone. In the cream-colored chariot, used while Pres- ident occasionally. With six blooded horses and servants in full livery, IT This Hero and his wife would often wend their way. Making formal calls on clergymen and lay. Oft' they to Alexandria or the new capitol Vv'ent Where buildings were being constructed for the government ; But usually he was busy upon his farm from day to day For things had been neglected while he had • been away. He had a host of trusty and loving farm hands. And little cabins dotted here and there upon his lands. AA'ith a hundred head of horses and mules be- side. In his stable of blooded drivers he always took great pride. Cattle, sheep, and hogs, in large herds he raised ; For his bounteous crops of staples, he de- served great praise. He now relinquished the sports of his earlier life And saw less company but was very attentive to his wife. IS In his tastes and habits he always had simple wa3'S ; It was his custom to rise very early and shave. Wholly absorbed in his extensive agricultural operations. Ever progressive was he in his daily occupa- tions. After dinner, which was served at three o'clock. He'd take up his correspondence, which was ne'er forgot. And regularly he'd employ himself in his li- brary For two or three hours dictating to his Private Secretary. Evenings were devoted to amusements for family good. He was of a free and kindly manner — always in a cheerful mood. With his adopted children and relatives, he always enjoyed jokes ; To him it was a great pleasure to cheer his home folks. 19 His cheerfulness has been handed down with his name. It has oft' been said, 'twas hard to realize he was the same Washington, whose dignity awed all who ap- proached him. His cheeks had a clear, healthy flush of manly vim. He measured six foot two in his stocking feet ; Was straight and slim with muscles quite complete. Having retained much of his youthful grace, A look of calmness was always upon his face. Thus for two score years with his ]\Iartha by his side. The Father of our Country braved life's sturdy tide. At last this great planter of Virginia passed away — And peacefully may he rest who has returned to clay. From a short account of his death by Tobias Lear, W' ho was his Private Secretary for nearly fif- teen year, \Yq find that December thirteenth, Seventeen Xinety-nine, He was surveying the lawns around his man- sion fine, Marking- some trees he wished cut down and taken away. He'd gotten wet while riding the previous day, And to his house with a cold he was confined Till noon, Avhen the sun shone out sublime. To complete his surveying, seemed his aim. But that evening of hoarseness he complained. He tried aloud to read the latest current news, And to his family did express his views. At last he and Alartha to their chaniber went, Hand in hand — these two with life content. And they- laid them down in a peaceful sleep, Resolved their pace of pure life to ever keep. But at two o'clock in the morning when all Avas still, George said to Martha, 'T'm quite ill." But would not let her rise for 'twas not warm. He said, "]\Iartha, dear, a cold might do you harm." So when their faithful servant came that morn To build the fire and make the chamber warm, She was sent to Mr. Lear to state the condi- tions. They sent to Alexandria and Port Tobacco for physicians, During the meantime, Washington was bled, And all available comforts brought to his bed. \\ hen the physicians came, they bled him again And used their utmost skill to relieve his pain. But that day congestion became so complete That this dying hero had great difficulty to speak. Towards night he said, 'T feel myself agoing on. I thank you for your attention, friends, I can- not tarry long; So pray you, do not take more trouble about me. But let me pass to the Great Beyond most quietly." He said to Mr. Lear just as the clock struck ten, "I am going very fast. I see my journey's end." "See that I am decently interred," he said. ''Don't put me in the vault till three days after I am dead." He looked up and said aloud, ''Do you under- stand?" Lear said, "Yes, sir, we shall obey your com- mand." He lay quietly and from Lear his hand with- drew. Feeling his own pulse. Death was near, he knew. His countenance changed — his hand dropped to his side. '' 'Tis well," he said, and the Father of Our Country died. Lear grasped his hand and pressed it to his breast. Dr. Craik covered his eyes wdien he saw this peaceful rest. 26 THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT ^^'hen all were fixed in silent grief, 'tis said, ^Irs. AA^ashington, who sat at the foot of her hero's bed, In a cool and collected voice did ask, "Is he gone?" Not a Vs'ord was spoken, but Lear waved his hand along. She said, " 'Tis well. All is over now. I shall soon follow him. I have no more troubles to pass — I feel that Death's set in." So passed a pure, congenial spirit from this earth. It was clothed in manlv honor from its birth. In the true cause of Justice, it knew no fear. This useful life was ended in its sixty-eighth year. Eighteen months more are added to our tale That poor Martha ever w^ore the mourner's veil. ^■pl ."^1^^^' "• • ■ ''^ ^BHKj.-*'^" ■ss'^'^' "' "^"'i ' SMM 1^ ' ^h^MmQ^m-Mm&^.h i^i BR ^ ^fM^B_ mm^M^f^^lxiHBM^SBS^^B^ ^•t,* ^'^