George Washington Wired

Lonely cowboys had their flasks, but what did people during the Revolutionary War use to sneak a sip?

Washington may have kept his stash of spirits in this personal decanter case, which legend holds was given to the General by Lord Fairfax. It’s also possible the above box was the “1 Small Spirit Case” listed among the items in Washington’s study in an 1802 inventory.

Military officers, officials and travelers carried such cases. The utilitarian and sturdy nature of Washington’s case, which is reinforced with iron straps and an iron lock, makes it seem a good piece of craftsmanship to take into any battle. The middling quality of the glass decanters also suggest it may have been used in less than genteel settings.

Although we don’t know what alcohol Washington imbibed from these bottles, we do know that when he traveled west into the Ohio Valley in 1784, he carried with him Madeira and port wine as well as cherry bounce.

If wine and George Washington sound like an ideal combo, it’s not too late to have a glass on the piazza at Mount Vernon’s upcoming Sunset Celebration. We just can’t let you drink out of the General’s decanters.

To see the decanter case in person, check out Mount Vernon’s Hoecakes and Hospitality exhibit located in the Donald W. Reynolds Museum and Education Center. Recipes for alcoholic concoctions such as cherry bounce, enjoyed by the Washingtons, are available in the exhibit’s companion book Dining with the Washingtons.

Assistant Curator Alison Bliss contributed to this report.

Object Spotlight is a regular feature that highlights household belongings used by the Washingtons. Check out Mount Vernon’s eMuseum to explore more Washington-related objects.

Gift of Mrs. Marsh, 1874 [W-188/A] [W-188/B1] [W-188/B2]

Approximately 112 years ago on May 27, 1910, a Mrs. Sarah Mendenhall of Yeagertown, Pa., received a friendly postcard from a niece or nephew who visited Mount Vernon. The structure on the front of the note won’t be recognizable to those familiar with the estate today. The “Mt. Vernon Lunch Room” as it was called was a small shack-like station near the entrance to the estate where visitors could grab a bite to eat. In later years the lunch room was replaced by the Mount Vernon Tearoom, located in the same spot, which also happened to be on the trolly line to the estate. When the George Washington Parkway was constructed in the 1930s and the trolly ceased to function, the tearoom was torn down.

The layers of history that exist at Mount Vernon extend even beyond George Washington to the average visitor.

The postcards featured in the MV Mailbox series and hundreds others are part of Mount Vernon’s postcard collection. They range vastly in age and subject matter, but have one underlying commonality: George Washington’s estate.

Easy chairs might not seem comfortable by today’s standards. Although upholstered, their stiff backs and arms can make for a rather rigid sitting experience. But in the 18th century, these chairs were meant for the infirm, elderly or expecting or nursing mothers who might benefit from the soft padding and wings to protect from drafts.

George Washington’s mother, Mary Ball Washington, was no exception. Her personal easy chair, which was passed down through her daughter (Washington’s sister) Betty Washington Lewis, was preserved throughout the generations and can be found today in the Donald W. Reynolds Museum here at Mount Vernon.

Even if it never served as a furnishing at Mount Vernon, nor did a young Mrs. Washington ever nurse baby George from its confines, the chair is still distinct as the only American-made example with four cabriole legs and claw-and-ball feet.

Remnants of its original upholstery foundation and show cloth reveal that the chair was upholstered in a vibrant red and mustard yellow wool damask accented by contrasting blue-green wool tapes. Fancy fabric such as this made these chairs expensive, which is why they’re found in only the wealthiest Virginia households. To say the least, the 18th-century easy chair seems to have been more elegant than any of the recliners and laz-y-boys that exist today.

Assistant Curator Alison Bliss contributed to this report.

Object Spotlight is a regular feature that highlights household belongings used by the Washingtons. Check out Mount Vernon’s eMuseum to explore more Washington-related objects.

Purchased with funds donated by the Detroit Mount Vernon Society, 1910 [W-152]

Today marks the anniversary of the death of Robert Morris, signer of the Declaration of Independence and financier of the American Revolution, who died in 1806. Perhaps not so well known as George Washington, he was an important founding father in his own right.

Born in England in 1734, Morris made his way to the colonies in the 1740s, eventually settling in Philadelphia where he became an apprentice at a mercantile house. When his boss died soon thereafter, Morris formed a partnership with his boss’s son, establishing the highly successful firm of Willing and Morris in 1757.

In 1769 at age 35, Morris married his wife, Mary White, 15 years his junior. Together they would have seven children.

Morris opposed the Stamp Act, served as vice president of Pennsylvania’s council of safety and made a name for himself as a delegate to the Continental Congress serving on committees pertaining to trade, war, the navy and foreign affairs.

After signing the Declaration of Independence in 1776, Morris became one of the nascent nation’s chief financial agents, not only acting in an official capacity on behalf of the country but also lending his own personal funds and credit to finance the war.

Additionally, Morris attended the second Continental Congress, signed the Articles of Confederation, was appointed superintendent of finance (secretary of the treasury) under the Articles of Confederation and founded the bank of North America.

Upon becoming president Washington appointed Morris secretary of the treasury, but Morris declined and Alexander Hamilton took the post. Morris instead served as a senator from Pennsylvania.

Morris never fully recuperated the money he spent funding the war and after losing even more of his fortune through land speculation, he ended up in jail for debt from 1798 to 1801. His correspondences from prison, however, indicate general good will and he was said to have been treated well. Morris was eventually freed after passage of a federal bankruptcy law and would remain relatively poor for the rest of his life.