edsanders.com - The REAL Story of George Washington and the "Cherry Tree"

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The info in here is brought to you by AMSOIL Direct Jobber, Ed Sanders.
E-Mail: edsanders@edsanders.com

You may have noticed when looking at what your ancestors did, where they moved, etc., that when they saw a good thing, they shared the info about it with their relatives. When they found new land to pioneer in, or a business opportunity that was becoming available, they told their relatives about it. Those relatives who shared their eagerness in the "land of opportunity" then jumped at the chance to succeed together. That's how much of the Lamson and Dodge families from Exeter, NH became successful by sharing the secrets and business of pottery. The Robinsons with lumber, the Dotys with farming, and many more you'll see throughout family trees.

Now I'm continuing the tradition by sharing an opportunity with you... AMSOIL. This is a proven business that is exploding with new products and innovative marketing! Some of our ancestors made fortunes in the age of pioneering the American frontier. Now we can do the same on the information frontier.

This is sponsored by AMSOIL Direct Jobber, Ed Sanders. The AMSOIL business works a lot like a family tree. I find it fits in very well with being a genealogy addict! Check out the AMSOIL section of this site for more info and/or e-mail me.


What follows is the true story of Washington and the "cherry tree". There was no cherry tree... Read on to discover what really happened. Obviously history was being re-written even back then. Please check back on edsanders.com from time to time to see more intersting stories.

In 1732, when Ben Franklin was at work on his newspaper, a boy was born on a plantation in Virginia who was one day to stand higher than even the Philadelphia printer. That boy when he grew up was to be chosen leader of the armies of the Revolution; he was to be elected the first president of the United States; and before he died he was to be known and honored all over the world. The name of that boy was George Washington.

Washington's father died when George was only eleven years old, leaving him, with his brothers and sisters, to the care of a most excellent and sensible mother. It was that mother's influence more than anything else which made George the man he became.

George went to a little country school, where he learned to read, write, and cipher. By the time he was twelve, he could write a clear, bold hand. In one of his writing-books he copied many good rules or sayings. Here is one:-- "Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire called conscience."

But young George was not always copying good sayings; for he was a tall, strong boy, fond of all out-door sports and games. He was a well-meaning boy, but he had a hot temper, and at times his blue eyes flashed fire. In all trials of strength and in all deeds of daring, George took the lead; he could run faster, jump further, and throw a stone higher than any one in the school.

When the boys played "soldier," they liked to have "Captain George" as commander. When he drew his wooden sword, and shouted Come on! they would all rush into battle with a great hurrah. Years afterward, when the real war came, and George drew his sword in earnest, some of his school companions may have fought under their old leader.

Once, however, Washington had a battle of a different kind. It was with a high-spirited colt which belonged to his mother. Nobody had ever been able to do anything with that colt, and most people were afraid of him. Early one morning, George and some of his brothers were out in the pasture. George looked at the colt prancing about and kicking up his heels. Then he said: "Boys, if you'll help me put a bridle on him, I'll ride him". The boys managed to get the colt into a corner and to slip on the bridle. With a leap, George seated himself firmly on his back. Then the fun began. The Colt, wild with rage, ran, jumped, plunged, and reared straight up on his hind legs, hoping to throw his rider off. It was all useless; he might as well have tried to throw off his own skin, for the boy stuck to his back as if he had grown there. Then, making a last desperate bound into the air, the animal burst a blood vessel and fell dead. The battle was over, George was victor, but it had cost the life of Mrs. Washington's favorite colt.

When the boys went in to breakfast, their mother, knowing they had just come from the pasture, asked how the colt was getting on. "He is dead madam" said George; "I killed him." "Dead!" exclaimed his mother. "Yes, madam, dead," replied her son. He then told her just how it happened. When Mrs. Washington heard the story, her face flushed with anger. Then, waiting a moment, she looked steadily at George, and said quietly, "While I regret the loss of my favorite, I rejoice in my son, who always speaks the truth."

George's eldest brother, Lawrence Washington had married the daughter of a gentleman named Fairfax who lived on the banks of the Potomac. (This was the Hon. William Fairfax; he was cousin to Lord Fairfax, and he had the care of Lord Fairfax's land). Lawrence had a fine estate a few miles above, on the same river; he called his place Mount Vernon. When he was fourteen, George went to Mount Vernon to visit his brother.

Lawrence Washington took George down the river to call on the Fairfaxes. There the lad made the acquaintance of Lord Fairfax, an English nobleman who had come over from London. He owned an immense piece of land in Virginia. Lord Fairfax and George soon became great friends. He was a gray-haired man nearly sixty, but he enjoyed having the boy of fourteen as a companion. They spent weeks together on horseback in the fields and woods, hunting deer and foxes.

Lord Fairfax's land extended westward more than a hundred miles. It had never been very carefully surveyed; and he was told that settlers were moving in beyond the Blue Ridge Mountains, and were building log-cabins on his property without asking leave. By the time Washington was sixteen, he had learned surveying; and so Lord Fairfax hired him to measure his land for him. Washington was glad to undertake the work; for he needed the money, and he could earn in this way from five to ten dollars a day.

Early in the spring, Washington, in company with another young man, started off on foot to do this business. They crossed the Blue Ridge Mountains, and entered the valley of Virginia, one of the most beautiful valleys in America.

The two young men would work all day in the woods with a long chain, measuring the land. When evening came, Washington would make a map of what they had measured. Then they would wrap themselves up in their blankets, stretch themselves on the ground at the foot of a tree, and go to sleep under the stars.

Every day they shot some game -- squirrels or wild turkeys, or perhaps a deer. They kindled a fire with flint and steel, and roasted the meat on sticks held over the coals. For plates they had clean chips; and as clean chips could always be got by a few blows with an axe, they never washed any dishes, but just threw them away, and had a new set for each meal.

While in the valley they met a band of Indians, who stopped and danced a war-dance for them. The music was not remarkable, -- for most of it was made by drumming on a deer-skin stretched across the top of an old iron pot, -- but the dancing itself could not be beat. The savages leaped into the air, swung their hatchets, gashed the trees, and yelled till the woods rang.

When Washington returned from his surveying trip; Lord Fairfax was greatly pleased with his work; and the governor of Virginia made him one of the public surveyors. By this means he was able to get work which paid him handsomely.

More of the story of George Washington to follow later...


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Copyright 1997 by Ed Sanders.