obacco to sell, but could not say whether he did have or not. His pay
hardly sufficed for his personal expenses and on the disastrous Fort
Necessity and Braddock campaigns he lost his horses and baggage. Owing
to his absence from home, his affairs fell into great disorder from
which they were extricated by a fortunate stroke.

This stroke consisted in his marriage to Martha Custis, relict of the
wealthy Daniel Parke Custis. The story of his wooing the young widow has
been often told with many variations and fanciful embellishments, but of
a few facts we are certain. From a worldly point of view Mrs. Custis was
the most desirable woman in all Virginia, and the young officer, though
not as yet a victor in many battles, had fought gallantly, possessed the
confidence of the Colony and formed a shining exception to most of the
tidewater aristocracy who continued to hunt the fox and guzzle Madeira
while a cruel foe was harrying the western border. Matters moved
forward with the rapidity traditional in similar cases and in about
three weeks and before the Colonel left to join Forbes in the final
expedition against Fort Duquesne the little widow had been wooed and
won. After his return from that expedition Washington resigned his
commission and on the 6th of January, 1759, they were married at her
"White House" on York River and spent their honeymoon at her "Six
Chimney House" in Williamsburg.

The young groom and farmer--as he would now have styled himself--was at
this time not quite twenty-seven years old, six feet two inches high,
straight as an Indian and weighed about one hundred and seventy-five
pounds. His bones and joints were large, as were his hands and feet. He
was wide-shouldered but somewhat flat-chested, neat-waisted but broad
across the hips, with long arms and legs. His skin was rather pale and
colorless and easily burned by the sun, and his hair, a chestnut brown,
he usually wore in a queue. His mouth was large and generally firmly
closed and the teeth were already somewhat defective. His countenance as
a whole was pleasing, benevolent and commanding, and in conversation he
looked one full in the face and was deliberate, deferential and
engaging. His voice was agreeable rather than strong. His demeanor at
all times was composed and dignified, his movements and gestures
graceful, his walk majestic and he was a superb horseman[2].

[2] Adapted from a description written by his comrade-in-arms, George
Mercer.