or not infrequently the General acted as her
amanuensis. But she was well trained in social and domestic
accomplishments, could dance and play on the spinet--in short, was
brought up a "gentlewoman." That she must in youth have possessed charm
of person and manners is indicated by her subjugation of Daniel Parke
Custis, a man of the world and of much greater fortune than herself, and
by her later conquest of Washington, for, though it be admitted in the
latter case that George may not have objected to her fortune, we can not
escape the conclusion that he truly loved her.

In fact, the match seems to have been ideally successful in every
respect except one. The contracting parties remained reasonably devoted
to each other until the end and though tradition says that Martha would
sometimes read George a curtain lecture after they had retired from
company, there remains no record of any serious disagreement. Though not
brilliant nor possessed of a profound mind, she was a woman of much good
sense with an understanding heart. Nor did she lack firmness or public
spirit. Edmund Pendleton relates that when on his way to the Continental
Congress in 1774 he stopped at Mount Vernon, "She talked like a Spartan
mother to her son on going to battle. 'I hope you will all stand firm--I
know George will,' she said."

The poorest artisan in Boston with nothing to lose but his life did not
embrace the patriot cause with any greater eagerness than did these
Washingtons with their broad acres and thousands of pounds on bond.

There is every reason to believe that Martha Washington was helpful to
her husband in many ways. At home she was a good housewife and when
Washington was in public life she played her part well. No brilliant
sallies of wit spoken by her on any occasion have come down to us, but
we know that at Valley Forge she worked day and night knitting socks,
patching garments and making shirts for the loyal band of winter
patriots who stood by their leader and their cause in the darkest hour
of the Revolution.

A Norristown lady who paid her a call in the little stone house that
still stands beside the Schuylkill relates that "as she was said to be
so grand a lady, we thought we must put on our best bibs and bands. So
we dressed ourselves in our most elegant ruffles and silks, and were
introduced to her ladyship. And don't you think we found her _knitting
with a specked apron on!_ She received us very graciously, and easily,