On July 8, 1790, Washington took time out from his presidential duties to sit for American artist John Trumbull. Trumbull had already had several sittings with Washington for the historical cycle of the American Revolution he was preparing, but the portrait he worked on that day was specifically intended for Mrs. Washington’s pleasure. Trumbull’s gift expressed his gratitude for Washington’s willingness to sit for the historical series, and also acknowledged Mrs. Washington’s great pride and affection for her husband. (Almost twenty years earlier, in 1772, she had commissioned Charles Willson Peale to paint the first portrait of her husband, an engaging look at the 40-year old, not yet wearied by the toils of war and public service, an act for which historians have been forever grateful.)
Trumbull distinctly remembered the sitting, and described it in detail in an 1829 letter written to Mrs. Mary Randolph Custis, wife of George Washington Parke Custis:
In the Summer of 1790 I painted a small whole length portrait of General Washington, standing by a While Horse& leaning his right arm on the Saddle & holding the bridle reins—in this picture every part of the Dress, the Horse & horse furniture, were carefully painted from the real objects: —the background represents the encampment of the American Army at Verplanck’s point on the North River in 1782—and the reception there which I saw of the French Army returning from the capture of Yorktown—a glimpse of the North River, Stony point, & the Highlands where the French troops crossed are seen in the distance … My name is inscribed on the bottom of the picture with the date 1790: —It was presented by me to Mrs. Washington in evidence of my profound and affectionate respect.
John Trumbull, Washington at Verplanck’s Point, 1790. Courtesy of Winterthur Museum.
When the Washingtons returned to Mount Vernon, they hung the painting in the New Room, making it the only family portrait in a gallery displaying artwork representative of several genres in the hierarchy of art: religious and historical works, portraits, and landscape paintings. Space may have played a part in this decision—the walls of the West Parlor, where most family portraits were hung, were already full—but the portrait was an artistic achievement in its own right. Trumbull’s portrait of the graceful, victorious commander echoed the compositions of earlier royal portraits by the British painters Thomas Gainsborough and Anthony Van Dyck.
Thomas Gainsborough, George, Prince of Wales, 1782. Courtesy of the National Trust, Waddesdon Manor.
The posture of the horse in this portrait may have inspired Trumbull’s delineation of Washington’s steed. Anthony Van Dyck, Charles I at the Hunt, c. 1635. Courtesy of the Musée du Louvre.
In her will, Mrs. Washington bequeathed the painting to her granddaughter, Elizabeth Custis Law, in whose family it descended. The original now hangs in the Winterthur Museum. A copy of the painting, made in 1982, will return to the New Room next year, allowing us to give full expression to the artistic program of the room.
Copy of Trumbull’s Washington at Verplanck’s Point by Adrian Lamb, 1982. Photograph by Ted Vaughan.
For more on Trumbull, see Irma Jaffee’s John Trumbull: Patriot-Artist of the American Revolution (Boston: New York Graphic Society, 1975) and Helen Cooper’s John Trumbull, The Hand and Spirit of a Painter (New Haven: Yale University Art Gallery, 1982).
Trumbull produced a life-size version of the painting for the New York City Hall. John Trumbull, George Washington, 1790. Courtesy of the City of the New York.
Amanda Isaac, Associate Curator
On December 14, 1799, George Washington succumbed to a throat infection, leaving his family and the country in mourning. According to Washington’s will, the use and control of Mount Vernon passed to his wife, Martha. When she died just three years later, the estate went to Washington’s nephew, Bushrod.
Henry Benbridge, Bushrod Washington, 1783. H-2620
When he took control of Mount Vernon in 1802, Bushrod Washington was an associate justice of the Supreme Court and was rarely home to oversee the house and 4,000 acres that remained of the property. With a background in law, Bushrod also lacked his uncle’s passion for farming and was soon forced to sell off land in order to buy food for his slaves, who cared for the property in his absence.
Despite time-consuming judicial duties, Bushrod did make some significant changes to the mansion. Perhaps most noticeable was a Chippendale-inspired balustrade along the roofline, a detail that appears in many later depictions of Mount Vernon.
Joachim Ferdinand Richardt, Painting of Mount Vernon, East Front, 1870. M-2727. The balustrade and porch were later removed to restore the house to its 1799 appearance.
In keeping with 19th-century architectural fashions, Bushrod also added a porch to the south side of the Mansion, as well as the “Summer House,” a gazebo-like structure among the trees partway down the hill toward the Potomac.
Russell Smith, Summer House at Mount Vernon and the Woods Over Washington’s Tomb, c. 1839. M-2743/A-B. The Summer House was removed in the early 20th century.
During his tenure, Bushrod Washington also faced an unexpected challenge: after George Washington’s death, Mount Vernon quickly became a site of pilgrimage for those seeking to honor the first president and father of the country. Steamboats from Washington, D. C., deposited groups of eager visitors who clamored to see the Bastille key and Vaughan mantel in the Mansion (most other original objects had been inherited by Martha’s grandchildren and removed) and pay their respects to Washington’s tomb. Much to the current owner’s annoyance, the interlopers picnicked on the front lawn, trampled the grounds, and plucked tree branches to bring home as relics. Even after Bushrod banned steamboats and forbade visitors from entering the house, people endured the bumpy two-hour carriage ride from Alexandria to Mount Vernon in order to experience Washington’s home.
Currier and Ives, The home of Washington, Mount Vernon, VA, ca. 1858. Print-3818/RP-442. During the 19th century, a near-constant stream of tourists visited Mount Vernon.
When Bushrod Washington died in 1829, his nephew John Augustine Washington II inherited Mount Vernon, which now consisted of only 1200 acres. John and his wife, Jane Charlotte, spent most of their time at Blakeley, their estate 75 miles away in Jefferson County, Virginia. The owners’ long absences meant that the house and grounds were maintained largely by the African American community that lived there permanently. The free and enslaved residents of Mount Vernon often gave tours to visitors, telling them stories of George Washington’s time.
Eastman Johnson, Washington’s Kitchen, Mount Vernon, 1864. M-1001
In 1841, Jane Charlotte Washington (who controlled the estate after her husband’s death in 1832) began leasing the property to her son, John Augustine Washington III, known as Augustine. The 20-year-old had grand plans to restore Mount Vernon’s agricultural production and revive the plantation. While mildly successful, his efforts to increase wheat production and raise cattle were not enough to slow the estate’s decline.
John Augustine Washington III
Many mid-19th-century visitors noted that Mount Vernon was falling into a state of disrepair. Though Augustine was accused of indolence and neglect, the truth was that he simply lacked the funds to maintain the house and extensive grounds.
In 1850, realizing the gravity of the situation, Augustine ended the ban on steamboats docking at the wharf and cut a deal with a boat company to receive a portion of its profits. Two years later, he partnered with an entrepreneur who paid $12,000 for access to trees, bushes, and shrubs on portions of the Mount Vernon estate. The wood was then used to manufacture commemorative walking sticks, picture frames, and medallions that were sold to eager consumers. The money from such ventures helped, but the foot traffic from increased tourism only worsened wear and tear on the property.
Photograph of Mount Vernon’s piazza, 19th century.
These measures would prove to be only stop-gaps. Faced with few other options, Augustine and his mother approached the Commonwealth of Virginia and the federal government about purchasing Mount Vernon, but neither would meet their asking price of $100,000 for 150 acres.
Finally, in 1853, Louisa Bird Cunningham was on a moonlit boat cruise down the Potomac when she spotted a dilapidated house—it was, she realized with horror, Mount Vernon. Cunningham wrote a letter to her daughter describing the sorry scene. Sharing her mother’s distress that Washington’s home was near ruin, Ann Pamela Cunningham founded the Mount Vernon Ladies Association and launched an unprecedented fundraising effort to purchase the property from the Washington family. Mount Vernon had finally found its savior. (Stay tuned to learn more!)
Ann Pamela Cunningham
For more information on Mount Vernon in the 19th century, see Scott E. Casper, Sarah Johnson’s Mount Vernon: The Forgotten History of an American Shrine (New York: Hill and Wang, 2008).
Jessie MacLeod, Assistant Curator
Samuel Vaughan’s name has come up frequently as we research the New Room, and if you read about the room’s marble mantel or porcelain vases here on the blog, the name might sound familiar to you too. When Washington received the mantel, he declared in a letter to Vaughan, “[I] shall consider the fixture of it in my house more as a monument of your friendship, than as a decoration of my room, … & value it accordingly.”
Who was this generous friend, whose gift of a marble mantel still stands as a central feature of Washington’s most elegant room?
Portrait of Samuel Vaughan (1720–1801), painted by Robert Edge Pine, oil on canvas, 1760. British Embassy, Washington DC.
Samuel Vaughan (1720–1802) was a London merchant made wealthy by the West Indies trade and ownership of a Jamaican sugar plantation. He enthusiastically supported the political ideals of the American Revolution and was an ardent admirer of George Washington. Vaughan traveled to the United States in 1783 and hosted Washington for dinner in Philadelphia in December of that year. The two men shared many interests and struck up a warm correspondence that continued after Vaughan returned to England in 1791.
Vaughan sent Washington several notable gifts, in addition to the marble mantel and porcelain vases:
Mount Vernon Grounds in 1787, drawn by Samuel Vaughan, watercolor and ink on paper, 1787. W-1434
This narrative only begins to reveal the fascinating story of Vaughan’s life, the range of his political and cultural interests, and the depth of his connections to America and its first president.
Portrait of Sarah Vaughan and Her Son Richard Vaughan, by Robert Edge Pine, oil on canvas, 1760. British Embassy, Washington DC.
Vaughan’s links to the New World began with his family’s far-flung commercial interests. While still in his 20s, he was sent to attend to operations in Jamaica and Boston. There, in 1747, he married Sarah Hallowell (1727¬–1809), whose father, Benjamin Hallowell, was a wealthy merchant, shipbuilder, and landowner. The couple spent several years on the Vaughan family sugar plantations in Jamaica—Flamstead and Vaughansfield—and then removed in London, where Samuel carried on business in the City.
Despite his considerable wealth and business pursuits, Vaughan was strongly drawn to some of the most radical circles in English religion, politics, philosophy, science, and social policy. A dissenter from the Church of England, he joined the Unitarian Church at Newington Green, a center for political radicals and social reformers.
Politically, Vaughan supported Whig efforts to reform Parliament, extend liberties, and oppose abuses of power by government ministers. Through his membership in the Club of Honest Whigs (a social club that gathered to discuss scientific and philosophical topics), Vaughan met notable thinkers and statesmen ranging from the English chemist Joseph Priestley (who discovered oxygen) to Philadelphia’s redoubtable Benjamin Franklin.
Vaughan’s enthusiasm for the American Revolution placed him in contact with both leading American patriots and British sympathizers. In December 1774, he hosted an extended house party that included both Franklin and Boston patriot Josiah Quincy, Jr. In 1779 Vaughan’s eldest son Benjamin (1751–1835) published the first collected volume of Franklin’s writings, and in 1781–1782, Benjamin Vaughan served as aide to British Prime Minister Lord Shelburne, assisting in secret negotiations that led to the Peace of Paris, ending the American Revolution.
Vaughan’s libertarian views prompted him to see the American Revolution as an opportunity to effect social reforms that could not be introduced in England. Within months of the peace treaty, the 63-year-old Vaughan left London for the United States, intending to relocate permanently and establish a new life, on republican principles, with his wife and several grown children.
Arriving in Philadelphia in September 1783, the Vaughan family lodged temporarily with Benjamin Franklin’s daughter, Sarah Franklin Bache. Samuel Vaughan plunged quickly into civic affairs, and his contributions to American arts and sciences were numerous.
In February 1785 Samuel became a charter member of the Philadelphia Society for Promoting Agriculture, a topic of great interest to George Washington (who was elected an honorary member in 1786). Vaughan further promoted American science through his sponsorship of Humphry Marshall’s American Grove, the first full-fledged American botanical catalog (1786).
Wanstead House, from The Compleat English Traveler, by Nicholas Spencer, 1771. Wikipedia.
Vaughan’s interests and talents also extended to the gentlemanly pursuits of architecture and landscape design. His English residence in the village of Wanstead, about 9 miles northeast of London, had given him close acquaintance with one of Britain’s most celebrated country estates: Wanstead House, designed in 1715 by Colen Campbell, was one of the earliest examples of the Palladian taste, and its extensive formal gardens were renowned as the English Versailles.
State-House Garden, Philadelphia, drawn and engraved by William Birch, 1800. The Library Company of Philadelphia.
In America, Vaughan drew on his knowledge of English architecture and gardening to supervise the construction of Philadelphia’s Philosophical Hall. More notably, he designed two influential gardens in the picturesque taste: the State-House (now Independence Hall) Garden in the middle of the city, and Gray’s Ferry Tavern grounds, a fashionable retreat on the banks of the Schuykill River. Both featured winding paths set among hillocks and hollows, and for the State-House Garden, Vaughan installed trees and other plantings representing native species from each section of the country, as an explicit encouragement to American national identity. George Washington and other delegates to the Constitutional Convention enjoyed visits to both of these gardens during the summer of 1787, even as Vaughan himself was visiting Mount Vernon and recording Washington’s own pleasure grounds, designed in similar fashion during the preceding three years.
Politics, science, progressive agriculture, gardening, botany, animal husbandry, architecture, interior design, invention … the range of shared interests formed the basis for a lasting bond between Samuel Vaughan and George Washington. Their correspondence suggests Vaughan was not only an ardent admirer of Washington, but also a collaborator or even a mentor, conveying knowledge of a cosmopolitan world that Washington had only glimpsed from afar. Vaughan may even have evoked the memory of Washington’s earliest mentor, his much esteemed elder half-brother Lawrence, born but two years before Vaughan.
Although Vaughan returned to England in 1791, his admiration for Washington as a champion of liberty remained unabated. Of Washington’s anticipated election to the presidency, Vaughan wrote in 1788, “The World looks up to You Sir, with anxious expectations of Your presiding there, to put a finishing hand to a Constitution for settling the unalienable Rights of the People on a lasting foundation, for promoting the united and durable happiness of a great Empire.”
Portrait of George Washington, painted by Gilbert Stuart, Vaughan type, oil on canvas, 1795. Originally owned by Samuel Vaughan. National Gallery of Art, Andrew W. Mellow Collection, 1942.8.27.
For visitors to Mount Vernon, Vaughan’s marble chimney piece continues to grace the New Room, “a monument,” as Washington intended to his English friend and admirer. For most people, however, the most lasting memorial to this friendship is Gilbert Stuart’s “Vaughan type” portrait of George Washington, the original of which was painted in Philadelphia in 1795. Samuel Vaughan’s son, John, acquired two of the artist’s contemporary copies and sent one to his father, Samuel, in London. There it was engraved and published in 1796 in an influential treatise on physiognomy, the popular “science” of analyzing facial features as clues to character and personality. The inscription on the engraving credited Samuel Vaughan as the owner, thus permanently linking his name with that of his hero.
Susan P. Schoelwer, Curator
Earlier this year, The New Room Renewed reported the longstanding belief that the floor of the New Room was installed in the latter part of the nineteenth century.
This notion sprang principally from two pieces of evidence. In January 1786, Washington paid Thomas Branigan for his work at “dowels for the New Room.” In the eighteenth century, the most expensive method of installing a floor involved driving small dowels into holes drilled into the sides of floor boards in order to fasten the boards together. As each board was doweled to its neighbor, it was “secret” or blind nailed by driving a single nail through the exposed edge of the board to fasten it down to each joist.
The installation of high-end flooring in the eighteenth century involved connecting the floorboards with dowels and fastening each board to the floor joists with nails driven at an angle through the edge of each board.
In this way no fasteners would be visible in the floor’s surface. Currently, the floor is face nailed, with two nails driven straight down though the top of the each board where it crosses a floor joist.
The floor boards of the New Room are now face nailed with two nails driven through the upper face of each board where it crosses the floor joists.
Previous investigations had probed between the boards and found no dowels in place. In our examination of the flooring, we found the same results. Similarly, since doweled flooring is always secret nailed, the obvious evidence of face nailing doubly cast doubt on the floor’s authenticity. In short: today, the floor doesn’t agree with the facts about it found in the historical record.
The second piece of evidence supporting a late-nineteenth century date for the floor was documentation noting that during that time floor boards in the room were replaced as needed due to rot. The complete lack of dowels led earlier investigators to conclude this document was understatement, and it was thought that in fact all of the flooring was replaced.
A recent reexamination of the floor and the associated documentation has determined that the floor is in fact original. In upcoming posts, we will look closely at both the forensic and documentary evidence that corrects the longstanding misconception that the floor was replaced.
Thomas A. Reinhart, Deputy Director for Architecture
Samuel Vaughan compelled George Washington to write many thank you notes. In 1785 the English emigrée sent his American friend a costly marble mantelpiece from his estate near Essex, England. Washington demurred to Vaughan that the mantel was “too elegant and fine for my Republican stile of living [sic],” but he nevertheless kept it. The next year, Vaughan sent yet another gift: a set of three blue porcelain vases, known as mantel garniture, to be placed atop the mantel that Washington had recently installed in the New Room.
Garniture vases, Worcester, England, 1768-1770. W-972/A-B and W-2260
On November 18, 1786, Washington expressed effusive thanks to Vaughan for the vases:
The obligations you are continually laying me under, are so great that I am quite overwhelmed and perfectly ashamed of myself for receiving them…the Jarrs came very safe…[they are] fine and exceedingly handsome, they shall occupy the place you have named for them.
Made in Worcester, England, these baluster-shaped vases were painted with deep blue glaze known as “mazarine,” a color that the Worcester Porcelain Manufactory had perfected in the 1760s. On each vase, intricate gilt scrollwork decorated the rims and framed a central image of exotic animals—tigers, lions, and leopards. Pastoral landscapes adorned the central reserve on the other side of each vase.
The charming animal and landscape scenes were painted by Jefferyes Hammett O’Neale, an Irish miniaturist who worked for several English manufactories, including Worcester, decorating porcelain.
O’Neale’s signature is visible to the right of the tree stump in the lower left side of the composition.
As Vaughan suggested, Washington placed the Worcester garniture on the mantel in the New Room, where visitors could admire its eye-catching blue color and delicately painted motifs. Striking and elegant, the vases were a focal point of the New Room and signaled Washington’s sophistication. As an “exceedingly handsome” token from an admirer, the garniture also symbolized Washington’s post-Revolution fame and popularity—and his celebrity would only grow in the years to come.
Jessie MacLeod, Assistant Curator
Throughout the year, we’re featuring the many folks involved in the New Room’s restoration and their roles in the project. Today, we interview Diana Welsh, Collections Management Assistant at Mount Vernon.
Hi Diana! Thank you for agreeing to appear on the blog. Let’s start with what your job is at Mount Vernon and what role you play in the New Room, and the Mansion more generally.
I am one of three collections management assistants. I clean the objects in the Mansion every morning, dusting all the objects and vacuuming the runners and all the textiles in the house. We clean the objects in the Mansion for the sole purpose of making sure that they’re here in the future. We don’t want them to build up too much dirt, dust, and grime. The other collections management assistants and I also assist with any installations or deinstallations that occur within the Mansion.
We’ve interviewed some conservators who spoke about cleaning as well. Tell me about what the difference is between what a collections management assistant might do in cleaning versus what a conservator might do in cleaning.
Collections management assistants do a much lighter cleaning of the objects. Our focus is to get the dust off the objects every day. We use a dust cloth made of cotton, a natural bristle paint brush, and a vacuum cleaner that has a HEPA filter on it, which catches more of the finer particles in the house. That’s how it differs from a regular household vacuum. We wipe down tops of tables and chairs and individual objects, whether it be the bowls or the mirrors or the frames around the paintings. That’s what we do for two hours prior to when the public come into the house. As far as the conservators, they do more of a detailed cleaning with the use of chemicals and other tools to help prevent further damage. For example, a conservator would be responsible for the polishing and lacquering of the silver objects in the mansion.
Diana removes objects on a card table in the West Parlor so it can be cleaned.
What do you do outside the Mansion in the broader Mount Vernon world?
In the broader spectrum, the collections management assistants are in charge of keeping track of all the objects on the estate. Any time something moves or is transported to another museum we keep track of it in a database called The Museum System. We provide care and security for the objects this way. We do routine inventories of all collection spaces, provide proper storage for the objects by creating custom storage boxes if needed, and write condition reports about the objects. We also assist with installations and deinstallations in various locations on the estate.
I also oversee the environmental monitoring in spaces where artifacts are stored and displayed. This means that I monitor the environment by using HOBO data loggers in various rooms in the mansion and other collection spaces. These log the relative humidity and temperature throughout the month. There is one in the New Room as well as other rooms in the Mansion, Museum, Education Center and our storage spaces. Every month I read out the loggers to create charts that are given to the director for exhibitions and collections management, the director of operations and maintenance, and our conservator. If adjustments are needed, Operations and Maintenance can adjust the HVAC system. We try to keep a stable environment for the objects.
What has your role been in the New Room project up until now?
My major role in the New Room was deinstalling the artifacts and objects in the room. Along with the two other collections management assistants, our museum technician and the director of exhibitions and collections management, I wrapped everything in tissue and bubble wrap and packed them in boxes. Everything either was moved to storage or taken to conservators who will treat specific objects.
After the room was deinstalled, I supervised when the doors to the West Parlor and the Little Parlor were sealed up with plastic by Operations and Maintenance. I also was present when they started covering the floors with plastic and lauan. Especially when they were working around the hearth, I was there to ensure that nobody stepped on it or leaned against the mantel.
Why did you seal the doors?
We sealed the doors to prevent dust or chemicals used in the restoration from seeping through into the other rooms. In the beginning, the conservators were doing a lot of sanding on the walls. All the fine plaster dust could have traveled into those rooms. Another reason was to help tours flow more easily. Without the sealed doors, visitors might have been trying to stop in the Central Passage to see through to the New Room as the conservators were working. The floors were covered to protect them from everybody walking through. If the conservators happened to drop anything from the scaffolding like their tools or the cleaning agents, it would help protect the floors.
The other major responsibility that we had in the New Room in the beginning was to accompany the conservators after hours when nobody was in the house. One of the collections management assistants or another Preservation & Collections staff member was there if the conservators had any questions or needed anything after hours while they were working into the night. It is also a security measure as we do not allow outside contractors to work in collections spaces without a staff member present.
The floors in the New Room are protected during the restoration with lauan panels.
You have been going into the New Room to clean the objects almost every day for five years. How does it feel for it to be empty for the restoration?
It’s very surreal actually, to walk into that room now and have enough room to dance around if you wanted to! You get very used to things being where they should be, and when they’re not there it’s just kind of odd. But not having that room completely installed as a dining room has given us more time to focus on cleaning the other rooms in the house more thoroughly.
Because you have more time?
Yes. The New Room took up the most time during our cleaning in the mornings. The scope of the display with a dining table set for ten people, everything that was on the sideboards, all the paintings, and the sheer size of the room made it time-consuming. Now the time that we would be cleaning the New Room is going to really thoroughly getting into nooks and crannies in other spaces in the house that we wouldn’t have had time to get to before. We always cleaned all the rooms in the house but not to the same level.
Tell me a little about your background and how you came to work at Mount Vernon.
I didn’t start off thinking that I was ever going to work in a museum. I did my undergrad in studio art. After I graduated, I had no clue what I was going to be doing, like most artists out there, so I started looking into graduate schools. Originally I was thinking about interior design because it fit in with the art background and I had an interest in watching home shows. Then I randomly came across the museum studies program at Seton Hall University as I was doing research for other graduate work. After meeting with the Director of the Museum Studies program I decided to go there to get my graduate degree in museum studies with a concentration in collections management.
As I was going through my coursework there I volunteered at museums as much as I could. I started volunteering at Lambert Castle which is a historic house at the Passaic County Historical Society. I did collections work for them. A spot opened up when their librarian left and they asked me if I wanted to be paid to do that. So I was running the genealogical research library there as well as still doing the collections management work. Their curator left and I took on her tasks as well, and once I graduated Seton Hall my full title then became Collections Manager/Librarian/Interim Curator. By the time I left I was wearing many hats, if you will. Then I got married and followed my husband down to the DC area. After a couple of months, I got a contract position with the Smithsonian American Art Museum and Portrait Gallery Library—I kept ending up in libraries. After that contract ended I applied here and got the job as collections management assistant and I’ve been here ever since!
Does your art background ever come into play in your work here?
It has helped give me a sense of what objects are made out of and how to care for them properly. When it comes to paintings and prints I can tell what medium was used. As collections management assistants we also occasionally will make custom storage boxes for our objects. My art background helps me think creatively about how I’m going to solve the problem of how the object can be supported best in the box. It’s a lot of cutting foam and measuring and all that good stuff. I do enjoy that, I enjoy working with my hands. That helps me tap into my art background a little bit and I enjoy doing that.
Diana builds a custom-made box for an object in the collection.
What are you most excited about for the New Room restoration?
I’m most excited about the prospect of the New Room potentially not going back to a dining room, per se—well, I don’t want to say it’s easier for cleaning because I don’t know what they have planned—it could be worse!—but because the curators are doing their research and figuring out how that room was used by the General and what his vision was for the room. I’m excited to see how it will all come together and what they have found. And to see how our cleaning routine will change with this new installation!
Light coming in the Palladian window at sunrise. Photograph by Diana Welsh.
Thank you, Diana!
Interview conducted and edited by Hannah Freece, Outreach Coordinator
As the Presidency drew to a close in 1797, George Washington began to turn his attention to returning home to Mount Vernon and to furnishing his New Room. While in Philadelphia, Washington purchased a variety of fashionable goods in the neoclassical taste, a style inspired by archaeological findings in Pompeii and Herculaneum. When he returned to Mount Vernon, he furnished his New Room almost entirely with these newly purchased items and objects he brought back from the presidency. However, he did incorporate a few exceptional objects he had purchased much earlier.
James Allan, Pair of Candle Stands, Fredericksburg, Virginia, 1759. W-1/A-B.
This magnificent pair of candle stands is listed in an inventory of the New Room created after Washington’s death as “2 Candle Stands” valued at $40.00. The stands would have created an elaborate display with and provided light in a dining room or drawing room with a candelabra perched on top. These are likely the candle stands that George Washington purchased from Fredericksburg, Virginia cabinetmaker James Allan in December 1759, just after Washington’s marriage to wealthy widow, Martha Dandridge Custis. These elaborately carved candle stands are made of imported mahogany and would have fit nicely in Washington’s newly completed small dining room.
Society of Upholsterers’ Household Furniture in Genteel Taste (1760). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1929. 29.43, plate 1.
The candle stands are carved in the fashionable rococo style made popular by Thomas Chippendale in his popular book The Gentleman and Cabinet-Maker’s Director, first published in London in 1754. The rococo style is characterized by fanciful naturalistic elements like those found in the leaves carved on the body of these objects as well as asymmetry. These candle stands are based on an illustration in Genteel Household Furniture published for the London Society of Upholsterers in 1760. The close relationship to this British design source demonstrates Washington’s desire to have the latest goods in the most fashionable taste.
Adam T. Erby, Assistant Curator
On May 13, 1785, William Fitzhugh, George Washington’s friend and colleague from the former House of Burgesses, sent to Mount Vernon a letter along with a joiner to finish up the New Room. The letter of introduction assured Washington that this man, Richard Boulton, would “Execute your work in an Elegant Manner at least equal to any in America.”
William Fitzhugh
Boulton, of Saint Mary’s County, Maryland, came highly recommended despite previous missteps—in fact, Fitzhugh had lately fired Boulton for neglecting his work and for “Excess of Drinking.” This misbehavior Fitzhugh blamed on Boulton’s recently deceased wife and his recently married daughter for insisting on entertaining too many guests, writing that had it not been for them, “He probably wou’d have gone on well with his work.” With them out of the picture, Fitzhugh believed Boulton would be a good candidate to finish the New Room.
Washington received Boulton and entered into a work agreement with him on May 21, 1785, to “finish the large room at the north end of the said Washingtons dwelling House (Mount Vernon) in a plain and elegant manner; either of Stucco, Wainscot, or partly of both” and to do other jobs including working on a greenhouse and adding a ceiling to Mount Vernon’s piazza. The agreement specified that Boulton would “be faithful and diligent at his business and is to allow for lost time and promises to be sober, & orderly, in the family.”
Richard Boulton and George Washington’s signatures
The agreement was signed by both men and witnessed by George Augustine Washington. Unfortunately, Boulton was never to return. On June 4, 1785, Washington received a letter from Boulton explaining that because of outstanding debts, he not only had to sell some of his tools, but he had to remain in his home state of Maryland, thus making it impossible to work on Mount Vernon. Washington did not accept these excuses, responding on June 24, “The reason which you assign for not coming, is futile & can have no weight with your creditors.” He additionally scolded Boulton, “I do not enter into agreements, but with an intention of fulfilling them; & I expect the same punctuality on the part of those with whom they are made.”
Upon hearing that Boulton had broken his agreement with Washington, William Fitzhugh quickly apologized for misinterpreting Boulton’s work ethic. “I am Extreamly Sorry that I recommended so Intemperate and Imprudent a Man to You,” he wrote to Washington. “His Conduct on the present Occasion has convinc’d me, that He was unworthy of Attention.”
Lynn Price, Historic Preservation & Collections
