Secrets in the General’s Garden
In the summer of 2008 I had the honor of spending considerable time at Mount Vernon. No matter how many times I walked the grounds of the estate, I was always awed that I was strolling where Washington had trod. It was on those quiet paths around the red-roofed house that I felt closest to the General. Ambling into his upper garden one day, I stumbled on a beehive of activity—A team of archeologists were digging a pit in one of the flower plots. Why were they excavating this parcel of earth? As I studied the vegetation surrounding me, I suddenly saw shrubs that looked like they were wasting away. Was this the way it looked during Washington’s time? No way would our first President (an innovative farmer) have allowed his “terra firma” to look like this! As I questioned Mount Vernon’s Director of Archaeology, Esther White, about the excavation she explained how the grand old boxwoods were dying. Although some see this as a sad event, those who love to burrow for artifacts saw this as an opportunity to verify what really was in Mount Vernon’s garden during Washington’s lifetime. Apparently the original garden “included far more vegetables, fruit trees, and nut trees, and considerably fewer ornamental flowers. A number of blooming bushes were also present (Mount Vernon Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow, Vol. XXIII, Number 1, Spring 2009).”
This summer I went back to the garden in the early morn. One gardener was quietly preparing for the day so I had the opportunity to meander through the pathways in silent solitude. Most of the boxwoods were no longer in evidence but the profusion of colors from the blossoms was a delight to behold. Sauntering along I took numerous photographs while communing with the lovely grounds. It was easy to imagine gentle footsteps behind me . . . Was Martha in the garden? Did I catch a glimpse of the General over in the corner eyeing his people’s labors? Was Nelly hiding behind some bushes? Although it was all just fantasy, it was a lovely daydream. Soon I heard more voices as visitors began traipsing into the enclosed gardens. My reverie was over, but for that brief moment I felt a special kinship with Washington and his family. Isn’t that why thousands make pilgrimages to Mount Vernon? To understand the man and the seeds that he planted for his home and the nation.
