Caroline was an African American woman who was one of the enslaved people in Martha Washington’s dower estate. She worked as a housemaid in the mansion, and likely had a daily routine. Long before dawn, Caroline would have left her bed in her quarters and made her way toward the house in the dark. At the door, Caroline would have wiped her feet to make sure she didn’t track in any dirt. She would have walked quietly so as not to wake the family or guests.
During winter, Caroline must have shivered in the cold as she placed the wood in the fireplace. She lit a fire in each room to knock the chill off before the Washington family got out of bed.
With the fires beginning to crackle, she cleaned the hearths and mantels. In the parlors and dining room, Caroline wiped the frames of the paintings, shook dust from the curtains, and swept the floors. In the central passageway, Caroline dusted the glass case that held the key to the Bastille as well as the framed drawing of the French political prison in ruins. Both were gifts from the Marquis de Lafayette, the French general of the American Revolution, who was like a son to Washington.
When she cleaned the staircase she controlled the dust by throwing wet sand on the top stair and sweeping it down step by step. Caroline dusted the polished walnut railing that turned the corner to the second story.
By the time those tasks were completed, the family and overnight guests would be getting up. Once they left their rooms Caroline took the sheets off their beds, shook the feather mattresses, turned them, and put the sheets back on. She brushed dust from the bed curtains and cleaned under the beds. She emptied and cleaned the chamber pots that had been used during the night. Then Caroline poured a little bit of water into the pots to cut down on the smell and mess for the next time she emptied them.
One of Caroline’s duties as housemaid each morning was to empty chamber pots like the one shown here, which were used during the night by the Washington family and their guests. (This particular porcelain chamber pot did not belong to the Washingtons but to their friends, the family of Samuel Powel, who lived in Philadelphia.)
Caroline’s husband, Peter Hardiman, belonged to Martha Washington’s son, Jacky Custis. Jacky was four when his father, Daniel Parke Custis, died in 1757. Jacky’s sister, Martha Parke (Patcy) Custis, was about two. Once the siblings’ mother married George Washington, their stepfather managed her business affairs—and theirs.
Patcy Custis died when she was a teenager, so her share of the Custis estate was divided between her mother and her brother, Jacky. As soon as Jacky was an adult he took possession of his very large inheritance. Peter Hardiman was part of the group of people Jacky inherited when he came of age.
In 1774, not long after his sister Patcy’s death, Jacky Custis married a woman named Eleanor Calvert. The couple bought a plantation near Alexandria called Abingdon. Soon their family grew to include three daughters and a son.
In 1781 Jacky Custis died suddenly, leaving his widow, Eleanor, with their four small children. Like his father before him, Jacky Custis died without a will. Eleanor Custis, like Martha Washington before her, had the use and benefit of one third of her deceased husband’s property during her lifetime. Peter Hardiman belonged to the estate of Jacky Custis.
Eleanor Custis maintained close ties with Martha and George Washington after Jacky’s death. They often visited each other, and since Peter Hardiman worked with the carriage horses, he traveled with Eleanor Custis and her children from Abingdon whenever they visited Mount Vernon.
Peter Hardiman and Caroline, who lived at Mount Vernon, met, fell in love, and were married. But like many other couples who lived on different plantations, Hardiman and Caroline spent a lot of time apart. Each of them must have looked forward to Eleanor Custis’ visits with the Washingtons so they could be together.
In 1783, Caroline was nearing the birth of her first child at Mount Vernon. On September 3 of that year, far away in Paris, France, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and two other American officials signed the Treaty of Paris. This document brought an official end to the American Revolution after eight long and difficult years of war.
Even if Caroline had known about the signing of the peace treaty, it would not have made any difference in her life. It didn’t free her or the child she was carrying. The only effect the treaty had on Caroline was that it meant her master, General George Washington, was coming home.
When Caroline’s baby was born two months later, on November 6, the child did not survive.
That same year, 1783, Eleanor Custis remarried. After her marriage to Dr. David Stuart, her two oldest two daughters, Elizabeth Parke (Betsy) Custis and Martha Parke (Patty) Custis, stayed with her and her new husband. She allowed her two youngest children, George Washington Parke (called Wash or Washington) Custis and Eleanor Parke (Nelly) Custis, to live with their grandmother and stepgrandfather at Mount Vernon. When Washington and William Lee returned from the war on Christmas Eve, Washington got reacquainted with his step-grandchildren.
After being away from Mount Vernon for eight years commanding the Continental Army, Washington recognized that his home and farm needed lots of attention. Ultimately, he wanted his plantation to be as self-sufficient as possible. He didn’t want to buy anything that could be produced by his own enslaved people at Mount Vernon. If a specific skill was needed that no one on the plantation possessed, Washington rented an enslaved person from another plantation owner or hired an indentured worker to accomplish the task. Eventually the people Washington owned, rented, indentured, or hired allowed his plantation to be nearly self-sufficient. The people laboring there produced tanned leather for shoes, made iron tools in the blacksmith shop, and milled corn and wheat. Washington owned carpenters, coopers who made buckets and barrels, brick makers and bricklayers, spinners, weavers, and seamstresses.
Another way Mount Vernon was able to be self-sufficient was thanks to the annual fish harvest. Each April and May, shad and herring swam up the Potomac River. When the fish were running, most of the other work on the plantation stopped so that the workforce could concentrate their labor on processing the catch. Everyone was reassigned to work the fish harvest, including Caroline and the others who normally worked in the mansion. Once the catch was pulled from the river, each fish was gutted and the head removed. Nothing was wasted at Mount Vernon, so the fish heads and guts were piled onto wagons and taken to the crop fields where they were incorporated into the soil as fertilizer.
As Washington continued to assess the needs of the plantation, he found that no one at Mount Vernon was experienced in horse breeding and handling. But Peter Hardiman, who lived and worked at Abingdon, was. So Washington rented Caroline’s husband from his owner, Eleanor Custis Stuart, for one year for the price of £12. Peter Hardiman came to live at Mount Vernon with his wife.
On March 18, 1785, Caroline and her husband welcomed a son into the world. They named him Wilson. Like other new mothers, Caroline was issued her yearly blanket when her child was born. Like every other child born into slavery, Caroline and Peter Hardiman’s son didn’t really belong to them. Wilson belonged to the dower estate of Martha Custis Washington because that estate owned his mother, Caroline.
Peter Hardiman took care of Washington’s horses, stable, and carriages. When the horses were sick or injured, Hardiman decided what to do for them. He took special care of Washington’s two purebred racehorses, Leonidas and an Arabian stallion named Magnolia. Hardiman’s skill with horses must have been known in the community, because in the fall of 1785 Washington loaned him to his friend William Fitzhugh for a horse race. Fitzhugh wrote Washington a thank-you letter that said, “Thanks for the Loan of Peter—and I am happy that I have it in my Power to send him Home unhurt.” Fitzhugh’s comment that Hardiman was unhurt might indicate Hardiman was the jockey in the race. If so, he must have ridden the horse to victory, because Fitzhugh added, “Tarquin has recover’d the Laurells he lost at Alexandria.”
That same year, Peter Hardiman’s responsibilities increased. His master, who constantly sought out more effective methods to improve his crops and equipment, had learned that mules made excellent farm animals. In order to breed mules at Mount Vernon, Washington needed some fine male donkeys. At the time there were very few good donkeys in America. The best in the world were considered to be a large breed in Spain, but it was illegal to export them. Then, in 1785, King Charles III of Spain sent two of his best donkeys as a gift to George Washington. One of them died on the voyage, but the other survived and was named Royal Gift. About a year later, the Marquis de Lafayette sent Washington a donkey from the island of Malta, whose name was Knight of Malta.
Peter Hardiman supervised a breeding operation using these two donkeys that would not only produce mules for use at Mount Vernon, but would also give his master an opportunity to make extra money. Neighbors paid Washington to have their female horses bred with one of his donkeys.
Washington was known as one of the first large-scale breeders and promoters of mules in America—but it was Peter Hardiman who actually ran the breeding operation.
Edward Savage painted this view of Mount Vernon sometime between 1787 and 1792. The Washington family is shown on the front lawn and enslaved people are in the background. On the right side of the painting is a carriage that would have been under the care of Peter Hardiman.
Around Christmastime of 1786, the twelve months that Hardiman had been rented to Washington ended. Washington wrote Eleanor’s husband, David Stuart, on February 12, 1787, to say that although Hardiman was helpful at breeding time and when the mares gave birth, others could handle things during the rest of the year. Washington wrote, “I have no desire to keep him, if you find a use for him.” But Stuart answered that Hardiman should stay at Mount Vernon for the rest of the year to manage Washington’s horse breeding operation.
That year, Caroline and Peter Hardiman welcomed a daughter named Rachel into their family. Another year went by and Washington’s agreement was up again. In the meantime, Hardiman told Washington that he wanted to stay at Mount Vernon with his family.
In a letter to David Stuart on January 22, 1788, Washington wrote, “As you have no immediate occasion for Peter in the only line in which he will be useful to you, I shall be very glad to keep him, as well on acct of my Jacks, Stud Horses, Mares, etc., as because he seems unwilling to part with his wife and Children.”
The next year, 1789, Caroline gave birth to another daughter, Jemima. It was the same year George Washington was inaugurated as president of the United States. For the next eight years the Washington family would be away from Mount Vernon except for visits. But life there continued for Caroline, Hardiman, and their children, and the couple added another daughter, Leanthe, to their family in 1791.
Two years later, in early 1793, Caroline fell ill for six days. On January 16 the farm manager, Anthony Whitting, wrote to Washington that “Caroline is very unwell has had a Smart fever all last week.” Seeing that she suffered with a high fever, Whitting used the typical treatment of the day, bloodletting (opening a vein to let some blood out of the body). He reported that he “bled her in the early part of the week She complaind of a pain in her head & side She is now something better but has a very dry bad Cough I have Given her something to take for it & hope She will Get better.” Caroline recovered.
That same year, Caroline and Hardiman had another daughter, named Polly. Two years later, in 1795, another son, Peter, was born. Like other women with young children, Caroline probably cared for her own little ones while doing tasks that would allow her to watch them—such as sewing or spinning thread and yarn. When she was required to do work that prevented her from caring for them, older children or the elderly likely looked after them.
While they were young, Caroline and Peter Hardiman’s children would play around the mansion house yard and gardens. In 1790, the farm manager wrote Washington and mentioned that the children of Caroline and Charlotte (also a housemaid and seamstress) “being in the yard certainly made it more difficult to keep it clean.” Three years later, Washington complained to his manager that there were “a great number of Negro children at the Quarters belonging to the house people” that were forbidden to go within the enclosed areas of the yard and gardens so they wouldn’t be “breaking the shrubs, and doing other mischief.”
When Caroline and Peter Hardiman’s children reached about twelve years of age they were considered “working boys and girls” and were assigned duties. Their son Wilson, for instance, started working with his father in the stable.
Every so often, Hardiman was able to profit from his talent with horses. Men in the community sometimes paid him for his services as a groom. In fact, any of the enslaved people at Mount Vernon were permitted to make extra money as long as it didn’t interfere with their regular work. Caroline sold ducks, chickens, and eggs to George Washington’s household. Some people sold brooms, poultry, wild game, honey, and other products on Sundays at Market Square in Alexandria. Those who did needed a pass from their master giving them permission to do business at the market, and they could only do so until 9:00 a.m.—then they had to leave. Selling at the Sunday market meant a very early morning. The nine-mile trip from Mount Vernon to Alexandria by horseback took an hour and a half to two hours each way.
George Washington expected a full day of work from himself and everyone else on his plantation, whether they were white farm managers, white hired workers, white indentured workers, or black enslaved workers. Washington would not tolerate idleness in anyone. This expectation was partly due to his exacting personality. But he also needed his workforce to be productive because money was always tight.
Although Washington owned thousands of acres of land, he didn’t have much cash. Part of the reason he was cash-poor was that he refused to take a salary during the Revolutionary War. When the Continental Congress unanimously voted him commander in chief of the American army on June 16, 1775, Washington accepted the job, but told Congress that because no amount of money “could have tempted me to have accepted this arduous employment, at the expence of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any profit from it.”
Instead of being paid for his efforts, Washington simply requested that any money he spent on wartime expenses be paid back to him when the conflict was over. Throughout the war he carefully documented his expenditures for reimbursement.
During eight years of war, Washington served his country for love, not money. But while he was away from home, Mount Vernon didn’t prosper financially either. Washington’s cash woes worsened upon his return, because the plantation needed improvements. Also a constant parade of guests arrived at his doorstep needing to be fed. Both required money.
Despite their cash shortage, George and Martha Washington continued to give money to charities and to destitute individuals who came to them for help. Many of the people to whom Washington had loaned money over the years never paid him back. John Mercer was one of them. Washington had been home from the war for about six months when he wrote Mercer on July 8, 1784, saying, “I can only repeat to you, how convenient it would be to me to receive that balance—I do assure you Sir, that I am distressed for want of money.”
Strapped as he was, Washington did have an option for raising cash quickly and easily: he could have sold some of the people he owned. But at this point in his life, he would not consider it.
That was not always Washington’s position. During the early years of the Revolution, it appears Washington discussed with his farm manager, Lund Washington, the idea of selling some of his enslaved men and women. In a letter on March 11, 1778, Lund Washington wrote to George Washington, “If I can sell the Negroes I mention’d to you by private Sale I will—but the Best way of Sellg is at Publick Sale.”
Some letters on this subject between Washington and his farm manager have never been found, and without them it is impossible to know exactly what Washington was thinking. However, Lund Washington’s response to one of the missing letters written by George Washington seems to indicate that Washington did not want to sell any of his enslaved people unless they agreed to it. On April 8, the farm manager wrote, “With regard to Sellg the Negroes Mention’d, you have put it out of my power, by saying you woud not sell them without their Consent—I was very near Sellg Bett, indeed I had sold her for £200 to a man liveg in Bottetourt Cty, But her Mother appeard to be so uneasy about it, and Bett herself made such promises of amendment, that I coud not Force her to go with the Man, to another Man at the same time I offed Phillis for £200, but she was so alrmd at the thoughts of being sold that the man cou’d not get her to utter a Word of English, therefore he believed she cou’d not speak—the man was to come two days after—when he came she was Sick & has been ever Since, so that I sold neither of them…unless I was to make a Publick Sale of those Negroes & pay no regard to their being Willing or not, I see no probability of sellg them—but this is a matter that may be fixd when I see you, I believe the price of them will keep up at least for this Summer.”
Bett and her mother were not purchased that spring, but there is evidence that these two women and seven others were eventually sold. On January 18, 1779, an entry in the farm manager’s ledger notes that he received £2,303.19 “Cash for the Following Negroes. Abram, Orford, Tom, Jack, Ede, Fattimore, Phillis, Bett & Jenny.” It will likely never be known whether Bett and Phillis consented to be sold away from Mount Vernon.
By the end of the Revolutionary War, several years after these people were sold, Washington’s views on slavery had begun to shift. He eventually resolved that he would not buy or sell any more enslaved people, or separate their families. Washington also expressed a desire for legislation that would abolish slavery.
In 1786, two years after Washington asked John Mercer to pay back the money he was owed, Mercer still had not paid in cash. Instead, Mercer offered to repay some of the debt in human beings. Washington wasn’t interested. At this point, there were about 216 enslaved people living at Mount Vernon, including the people Washington owned himself and those owned by Martha Washington’s dower estate. Washington wrote to John Mercer on September 9, 1786, “I never mean (unless some particular circumstances should compel me to it) to possess another slave by purchase; it being among my first wishes to see some plan adopted, by the legislature by which slavery in this Country may be abolished by slow, sure, & imperceptable degrees.”
Mercer continued to try to settle his debt to Washington by turning his enslaved people over to him, but Washington wrote Mercer again on November 24, 1786, “With respect to the negroes, I conclude it is not in my power to answer your wishes—because it is as much against my own inclination as it can be against your’s, to hurt the feelings of those unhappy people by a separation of man and wife, or of families.”
That same year, Washington’s old friend Lafayette informed him that he had bought a plantation in Cayenne, French Guiana. He would emancipate the enslaved people who lived there, and allow them to rent a part of the plantation as free men. On May 10, 1786, Washington wrote Lafayette that his plan was “a generous and noble proof” of his friend’s humanity. Then Washington wrote, “Would to God a like spirit would diffuse itself generally into the minds of the people of this country, but I despair of seeing it—some petitions were presented to the Assembly at its last Session, for the abolition of slavery, but they could scarcely obtain a reading. To set them afloat at once would, I really believe, be productive of much inconvenience & mischief; but by degrees it certainly might, & assuredly ought to be effected & that too by Legislative authority.” Washington’s letter seems to indicate that he felt gradual abolition would be the best way to end slavery in America. The letter also shows that it was clear to him that legislation to abolish slavery would not happen any time soon in Virginia.
Now that Washington no longer intended to sell the people he owned, he had to figure out how to balance his financial responsibilities. His plantation needed to provide enough money to sustain his family’s lifestyle. It also had to provide for the needs of hundreds of enslaved people. In good years, Washington’s workforce produced what was needed for food and clothing, including fish, corn, textiles, and leather for shoes. In bad years, when the corn crop didn’t produce enough, Washington had to purchase corn to keep everyone fed. As the years went by, problems like these made it more and more difficult for Washington to come out ahead financially.
Another drain on Washington’s finances came from his mother, Mary Ball Washington. He supported his mother, yet she constantly asked him for money. In a letter to her on February 15, 1787, Washington bluntly explained the financial problems he faced, saying, “I have now demands upon me for more than 500£ three hundred and forty odd of which is due for the tax of 1786; and I know not where, or when I shall receive one shilling with which to pay it. In the last two years I made no Crops. In the first I was obliged to buy Corn and this year have none to sell, and my wheat is so bad I cannot neither eat it myself nor sell it to others, and Tobaca I make none. Those who owe me money cannot or will not pay it.”
When Washington was unanimously elected president in 1789, money was still an issue. Washington planned to take William Lee, Christopher Sheels, and others with him when he left for New York City, but he did not have enough money to pay for the trip. It was clear that he needed a loan in order to get to his own presidential inauguration.
On March 4, 1789, Washington wrote Richard Conway, a merchant and ship owner in Alexandria. He asked to borrow funds, explaining that his cash-flow problem stemmed from “Short Crops, & other causes not entirely within my Controul.” Washington admitted that he had to do “what I never expected to be reduced to the necessity of doing—that is, to borrow money upon interest.” On March 6, 1789, Washington borrowed £625 in Maryland currency at 6 percent interest. By the time Washington paid off his debt on December 15, 1790, with interest he paid more than £649.
During Washington’s years as president, life for Peter Hardiman and Caroline went on as usual. Washington continued to rent Hardiman from Eleanor Custis Stuart for £12 a year. Hardiman, Caroline, and the other enslaved African Americans at Mount Vernon continued to have few choices in life. Another person owned them, their children, their parents, their siblings, and their friends. Someone else told them what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. Someone else selected and distributed the food they ate and the clothes that covered them. Someone else told them when to work and when to stop. They labored six days a week, year after year, for a lifetime.
Historians believe that through the years, some people who were enslaved used what is called “passive resistance,” which is nonviolent opposition to those who had power over them. In order to have a small measure of control over their lives, some may have pretended to be ill, worked at an intentionally slow pace, stopped working when unsupervised, broken tools, misplaced tools, or left them out in the weather to be ruined. Since there is no documentation to prove passive resistance was occurring at Mount Vernon, no one will ever know for sure. But it seems Washington suspected this was happening.
George Washington created this map of his five farms: River Farm, Mansion House Farm, Union Farm, Dogue Run Farm, and Muddy Hole Farm. The area of the mansion is at the bottom near the middle.
From Philadelphia, Washington was keeping track of what was happening at Mount Vernon through his manager’s weekly farm reports. The reports included a rundown of the work being done by Washington’s enslaved people—including Peter Hardiman, who was expected to be useful in other ways when he wasn’t busy with the care of horses and mules. When Washington didn’t see Hardiman’s work mentioned in the reports, he suspected idleness. He wrote his farm manager, Anthony Whitting, “If Peter does any work at all it is in the Gardening line…though I believe he will do nothing that he can avoid—of labour.”
A few weeks later, on December 30, 1792, Washington wrote, “I have long suspected that Peter, under pretence of riding about the Plantations to look after the Mares, Mules, &ca is in pursuit of other objects; either of traffic or amusement, more advancive of his own pleasures than my benefit.”
Washington also believed Caroline was not working hard enough. When she was not busy with her duties as a housemaid, Caroline also worked as a spinner, washer, knitter, and seamstress. Since Mount Vernon was as self-sufficient as possible, enslaved seamstresses made the clothes for every enslaved man, woman, and child on the plantation. It was slow work, done by hand. On December 23, 1792, Washington’s letter to Whitting pointed out that the seamstresses produced “only Six shirts a week, and the last week Caroline (without being sick) made only five; Mrs Washington says their usual task was to make nine with Shoulder straps, & good sewing: tell them therefore from me, that what has been done, shall be done by fair or foul means; & they had better make choice of the first, for their own reputation, & for the sake of peace & quietness. otherwise they will be sent to the several Plantations, & be placed as common laborers under the Overseers thereat.”
Was Caroline employing passive resistance? Or was something else going on? Was Caroline injured? Was she ill? Had she been up all night caring for a sick child? It is impossible to know. What we do know is that Washington was disappointed in her work. If she and the other seamstresses didn’t produce the expected number of shirts per week, Washington threatened to send them to work in the fields.
These were not idle words. Slavery operated in large part on fear: the fear of physical punishment, fear of being sold away from your family, fear that your family would be sold away from you, and for the skilled workers like Caroline, fear of being sent to work in the fields at one of Washington’s other farms. The enslaved community at Mount Vernon knew their master did not usually sell the people he owned, although he had on rare occasions in the past. They also knew he did not usually allow physical punishment. So at Mount Vernon, the most looming threat was being sent to the fields to work.
Most of the field workers were women, not men, who worked from daylight to dark. The majority were women because many of the enslaved men who lived near the mansion house were considered skilled labor—they were trained as carpenters, blacksmiths, coopers, cooks, valets, coach drivers, and more.
In the end, Caroline was not sent to work in the fields. But the threat would have always hung over her head.
Even as Washington was running the nation, he was troubled about more than idleness at his plantation. He could tell from Anthony Whitting’s inventory reports that Mount Vernon’s supply of hogs, wheat, nails, and tools was decreasing. After examining one report he realized that eight sheep were gone. Washington suspected his enslaved people were stealing them. On November 25, 1792, Washington wrote to Whitting that “half my Stock may be stolen, or eaten, before they are missed: whereas, a weekly, or even a more frequent Count of the Sheep, & inspection of the Hogs (articles most likely to be depredated upon) would prevent, or if not prevent, enable them to pursue while the scent was hot these atrocious villainies; and either bring them to light, or so alarm the perpetraters of them, as to make them less frequent. As the Overseers, I believe, conduct matters, a Sheep, or Hog or two, may, every week, be taken without suspicion of it for months. An enquiry then comes too late; and I shall have to submit to one robbery after another, until I shall have nothing left to be robbed of.”
Washington was also concerned about safeguarding the linen that was used to make clothing for everyone on the plantation. On February 17, 1793, Washington cautioned his farm manager to beware of letting Caroline cut out the clothing pieces from the fabric. He suggested the hired gardener’s wife should do it, because he felt that Caroline “was never celebrated for her honesty” and “would not be restrained by scruples of conscience, from taking a large toll [on the linen] if she thought it could be done with impunity.”
In 1793, Caroline was given a new assignment on top of her usual duties. Anthony Whitting, the farm manager, fell seriously ill, and Caroline was ordered to take care of him. Just a few months before, Whitting had been the one to deliver the ultimatum to Caroline from the master: either produce the requisite number of shirts per week, or work in the fields. Whitting would have been the one to carry out the threat, if Washington had ordered it. For six days in March of 1793, Caroline tended to the man. She had no choice.
As Whitting’s health deteriorated, goods continued to disappear from Mount Vernon. On May 19, 1793, Washington wrote Whitting that “it is indispensably necessary that a stop should be put to that Spirit of thieving & house breaking, which has got to such a height among my People, or their associates. As one step towards the accomplishment of which, I desire you will absolutely forbid the Slaves of others resorting to the Mansion house; Such only excepted as have wives or husbands there—or, such as you may particularly license from a knowledge of their being honest & well disposed—all others, after suff-icient forewarning, punish whensoever you shall find them transgressing these orders.” Whitting was not able to tend to these concerns, or to the overall management of Mount Vernon, much longer. Despite Caroline’s efforts to aid him, he died on June 21, 1793.
Washington hired another farm manager, but the issue of missing goods continued, and as the years went by, the problem grew. Thieves broke into locked buildings like the smokehouse and corn loft. More and more supplies vanished, including alcohol, vegetables, meat, grain, milk, and butter. After a time, Washington suspected his enslaved people were not only stealing items from Mount Vernon, but selling them to others outside the plantation.
The problem of theft wasn’t an issue unique to Mount Vernon. The same thing was happening on surrounding plantations. State laws were written to prevent stolen items from being sold. Any enslaved person who wished to sell their goods at the Sunday market in Alexandria now not only had to have a permit signed by their overseer that granted them permission to be there, they also had to have a signed certificate of approval stating that the goods being sold were not stolen property.
Benjamin Henry Latrobe visited Mount Vernon in 1796. He sketched scenes including this image of an enslaved person serving coffee on the piazza. Although no one will ever know for sure, it is possible the enslaved man pictured here is Frank Lee.
This Benjamin Latrobe watercolor is based on the sketch he made during his visit to Mount Vernon. In this finished painting, Latrobe left out the enslaved man who was serving coffee to the Washington family.
Throughout Washington’s presidency, the family came home to Mount Vernon for periodic visits. Once the family arrived, even if their stay would only be for a few weeks, the house filled with guests. The extra mouths to feed were an advantage to Caroline in one way. On July 15, 1796, Caroline sold the Washingtons nineteen of the ducks she raised, all of which were no doubt destined for the dinner table.
The next day, July 16, one of the overnight guests was architect and artist Benjamin Henry Latrobe, who would later finish the U.S. Capitol building. In his journal, Latrobe detailed his stay at Mount Vernon. He also drew sketches of the house and grounds as he walked around the estate, as well as a profile of Washington.
At six o’clock that evening refreshments were served on the piazza. Latrobe drank coffee and visited with the Washingtons as the beautiful Potomac River rolled by in the distance. Latrobe preserved the moment in sketches.
Latrobe wrote about many things he encountered at Mount Vernon. He probably didn’t see William Lee, who was busy making shoes, or Caroline slipping in and out cleaning rooms and emptying chamber pots, but he may well have observed Frank Lee, William Lee’s brother, who worked in the house, or Christopher Sheels, dressed in livery and waiting for Washington’s next order. But Benjamin Latrobe didn’t mention in his account those he did see who silently worked in his midst. It was almost as though they were invisible.
When Washington’s second term as president ended, the family returned to Mount Vernon. Although Caroline continued her work as a spinner and seamstress, her usual work in the mansion resumed too.
Many of the visitors who arrived were total strangers who wanted to see Washington, the most famous man in the world. Being at Washington’s home was such an exciting experience that many guests wrote detailed accounts of their visits in letters and diaries.
One of the strangers who dropped by unannounced was Amariah Frost. Unlike Latrobe, who made no mention of the Washingtons’ servants, Frost noted in his journal on June 26, 1797, “Our horses and the men who drove the carriage were taken suitable care of by his domesticks.” It was Peter Hardiman who would have looked after Frost’s horses. Frost was invited to stay for dinner that included roasted pig, leg of lamb, roasted fowl, peas, cucumbers, artichokes, pudding, and more.
So many visitors came to Mount Vernon that it was unusual for the family to dine alone. In a letter to Tobias Lear on July 31, 1797, Washington remarked on what would be a rare occasion, saying, “Unless some one pops in, unexpectedly, Mrs Washington and myself will do what I believe has not been [done] within the last twenty years by us, that is to set down to dinner by ourselves.”
In 1798, there were 656 dinner guests at Mount Vernon and 677 overnight guests. In addition to the guests themselves, many arrived with their own servants. While the family must have grown tired of playing host to a constant crowd, and probably fretted over the cost, the Washingtons’ enslaved people did the real work. For Caroline, visitors meant even more rooms to clean, more portable beds to prepare, more sheets to change, more clothes to launder, and more chamber pots to empty. The visitors never stopped, and neither did Caroline’s labor.
These two bells mounted outside of Mount Vernon were part of a communication system. Some rooms inside the house had a wire that connected to a different bell—each having a different sound. The Washington family pulled a wire when they wanted to call one of their enslaved people. Caroline would always have been listening for a bell to summon her.
One guest who arrived at Mount Vernon around this time was not expected by the Washingtons—or by Caroline. Seven-year-old Hannah Taylor and a friend were playing hide-and-seek in Alexandria when she hid in a coach that had been brought to the city for repairs. Waiting to be found, Hannah fell asleep. Meanwhile, the coachman took the coach back home—to Mount Vernon. Hannah woke up at Mount Vernon and screamed with fear. Washington sent a rider back to Alexandria to let her parents know she was safe and would be returned the next morning. After dinner that evening, it was Caroline whom Martha Washington called on to take the child upstairs and put her to bed. Caroline put embers from the fire into a warming pan and ran the pan up and down the sheets to heat them. She helped Hannah into one of Nelly Custis’ nightgowns that had lace at the neck and sleeves. Then Caroline tucked Hannah into bed and left a candle burning until she drifted off to sleep. After breakfast the next morning, her mistress ordered Caroline to heat a brick for the coach to help keep the child warm on the trip home that snowy day.
Like his wife, Caroline, Peter Hardiman and the others who worked in the stable were kept extra busy with the arrival and departure of so many guests. They were tasked with the enormous responsibility of caring for and feeding the many horses that brought people to the Washingtons’—as well as caring for their equipment. When the guests departed, Hardiman would have saddled their horses or hitched them to a carriage, and prepared for whoever arrived next.
During the summer of 1798, a Polish writer named Julian Niemcewicz came to Mount Vernon and stayed twelve days. He noted details about Peter Hardiman and Washington’s mule breeding operation. Niemcewicz wrote that the general kept up to fifty mules. He charged the public a $10 stud fee for his male donkeys Royal Gift or Knight of Malta to breed with their female horses. Niemcewicz wrote that in addition to the stud fee, each mare was charged for feed and “besides this a ½ doll. for the boy.” The “boy” here was Peter Hardiman.
Julian Niemcewicz toured all over the Mount Vernon plantation during his stay. Unlike many others who chronicled their visits, Niemcewicz made mention of the enslaved people he saw there. Some of his accounts are rosy in their tone, such as his description of a group of people playing a game on their one day off. He wrote, “Either from habit, or from natural humor disposed to gaiety, I have never seen the Blacks sad. Last Sunday there were about thirty divided into two groups and playing at prisoner’s base [a form of tag]. There were jumps and gambols [leaps] as if they had rested all week. I noticed that all spoke very good English.”
Other observations were less upbeat, such as his description of the living quarters of one enslaved family: “We entered one of the huts of the Blacks, for one can not call them by the name of houses. They are more miserable than the most miserable of cottages of our peasants. The husband and wife sleep on a mean pallet, the children on the ground; a very bad fireplace, some utensils for cooking, but in the middle of this poverty some cups and a teapot.” This description was likely of a hut on one of Washington’s four outlying farms.
Despite any misgivings he may have had about the enslaved people’s housing conditions at Mount Vernon, the Polish visitor enjoyed the Washingtons’ Southern hospitality so much that he later reported feeling right at home on the plantation. He wrote, “I was not a stranger but a member of the family in this estimable house. They took care of me, of my linen, of my clothes, etc.”
Though he didn’t say so, it was enslaved people like Caroline and Peter Hardiman who actually took care of his necessities at Mount Vernon.
