Acutely aware of being a provincial subject in a remote corner of the British Empire, Washington sometimes sounded an apologetic, self-deprecating note when writing to London. When he invited his British factor, Richard Washington, to visit Mount Vernon, he said, “We have few things here striking to European travelers (except an abundant woods) but a little variety, a welcome reception among a few friends, and the open and prevalent hospitality of the country in general.”¹² With his emphasis on self-improvement, Washington trained himself to play the gentleman in polite drawing rooms and among the highly educated. People sensed something a bit studied about his behavior and suspected, correctly, that the manner was partly learned. The British ambassador’s wife noted that he had “perfect good breeding and a correct knowledge of even the etiquette of a court,” but how he had acquired it, “heaven knows.”¹³ Washington exemplified the self-invented American, forever struggling to better himself and rise above his origins.

While Washington cultivated friendships throughout his life, he didn’t have many true intimates and his relationships were seldom of the candid or confessional type. His reserve, if not impenetrable, was by no means lightly surrendered. He was habitually cautious with new people and only gradually opened up as they passed a series of loyalty tests. “Be courteous to all but intimate with few,” he advised his nephew, “and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence. True friendship is a plant of slow growth.”¹⁴ Because Washington never invited people readily into his confidence, it had a nearly irresistible appeal when he did. He tended to be much more conversational among those he trusted and taciturn with strangers.

In a world not far removed from the frontier, Washington’s physical strength and dexterity won many admirers. He knew that he was a physical prodigy and enjoyed displaying this with exhibitionistic flair. When he painted Washington in 1772, Charles Willson Peale observed an instance of Washington’s herculean strength that he never forgot:

One afternoon, several young gentlemen, visitors at Mount Vernon, and myself were . . . pitching the bar . . . when suddenly the colonel [Washington] appeared among us. He requested to be shown the pegs that marked the bounds of our efforts; then, smiling, and without putting off his coat, held out his hand for the missile. No sooner did the heavy iron bar feel the grasp of his mighty hand than it lost the power of gravitation . . . striking the ground far . . . beyond our utmost limits. We were indeed amazed, as we stood around, all stripped to the buff . . . having thought ourselves very clever fellows, while the colonel, on retiring, pleasantly observed, “When you beat my pitch, young gentlemen, I’ll try again.”¹⁵

A nice touch that he didn’t bother to take off his jacket, as if to underscore his effortless feat. While Washington never threw a silver dollar across the Potomac, as legend asserts, he did hurl a rock to the top of the Natural Bridge in the Blue Ridge Mountains, a height of 215 feet. Although boasting was always foreign to Washington’s nature, after the Revolution he confided to David Humphreys that “he never met any man who could throw a stone to so great a distance as himself.”¹⁶

In an age that gloried in horse racing and hunting as gentlemanly pursuits, Washington’s virtuosity with horses excited comment throughout his life. Thoroughbred horses were especially prized in Virginia, where they literally elevated masters above their slaves. Jefferson extolled Washington as “the best horseman of his age and the most graceful figure that could be seen on horseback,” an appraisal echoed by many others.¹⁷ Ramrod straight and relaxed on horseback, he seemed taller in the saddle than anyone else, exhibiting perfect ease and projecting a magnetic air. Favored with long legs and broad, powerful hips, he could wrap himself around the smaller breeds of horses common in the eighteenth century. It is no coincidence that Washington has been commemorated by so many equestrian statues. “He is a very excellent and bold horseman,” noted a French admirer, the Chevalier de Chastellux, “leaping the highest fences and going extremely quickly without standing upon his stirrups, bearing on the bridle, or letting his horse run wild.”¹⁸ Chastellux said Washington rode fast even when he was in no special hurry—something that added dash and drama to his movements. He broke and trained his own horses and retained mastery over them. One witness recollected how when Washington dismounted, he “gave a cut of the whip to his horse, which went off by itself to the stable.”¹⁹ Washington wrote with affection about horses, and when one man agreed to sell him his favorite horse, he responded gratefully. “The attachment which one feels for a good horse that has . . . been considered as a favorite, I know is very great.”²⁰

An avid hunter, Washington keenly stalked foxes, deer, ducks, quail, pheasant, and even occasional bears on his estate. He hunted in a handsome outfit, a blue riding frock and scarlet waistcoat threaded with gold lace and topped by a black velvet cap. He wore high boots and carried a smart-looking riding crop, decorated in a herringbone pattern. So much did Washington adore the sport that he papered his mansion with hunting prints. On hunting days, his ritual was to rise before sunrise, breakfast by candlelight, then ride off with his hounds while it was still dark outside. Invariably he was accompanied by Billy Lee, who got Washington to stop hunting black foxes and stick to gray ones after one black fox eluded them on an exhausting chase; Lee averred that there was something diabolical about the cunning black fox.

For a man of Washington’s stern work ethic, it is striking how much time he dedicated to hunting, even in the dead of winter. Though he enjoyed fishing, it never matched his consuming interest in chasing animals. In January 1769, for example, he went foxhunting eight times in a twelve-day period even though the ground was packed hard with frost. During the foxhunting season, certain favored guests turned into semipermanent residents of Mount Vernon, staying for weeks at a time.

A lusty hunter, Washington often recorded in his diary the length of the chase and a description of the fox. It was not unusual for the hunt to occupy an entire day. “Hunting again,” he wrote in March 1768, “and catched a fox with a bobbed tail and cut ears after 7 hours chase in w[hi]ch most of the dogs were worsted.”²¹ A month earlier, he recorded that he had killed five mallards and five bald eagles in one day—a curious triumph for the Father of His Country. Washington’s fierce, relentless energy, cloaked in social encounters, emerged clearly in warfare and hunting. He liked to ride up ahead with the hounds and be present for the kill. Washington kept his hounds kenneled down by the Potomac and developed a breed that became known as the American foxhound. Protective of his hunting grounds, he was implacable when dealing with poachers. One day when out riding, he encountered a poacher who was furtively slipping away in a canoe. “Raising his gun,” recounts a neighbor, the poacher “took deliberate aim at Washington, expecting to daunt him; but Washington dashed up to the culprit, and seizing his canoe, dragged it ashore. He then disarmed him and gave him a severe flogging, which effectually cured his thieving properties.”²²

Another area where Washington demonstrated uncommon agility was in dancing. Because colonial social life revolved around fancy balls and assemblies, gentlemen were expected to master reels, jigs, and minuets. An exceptionally graceful dancer, Washington flourished in such society, not only because he presented an image of strength and poise on the dance floor—one lady recalled that he was “a ceremonious and grave” partner—but also because it allowed some harmless interactions with the ladies.²³ It was the one venue where Martha permitted him to indulge his penchant for gallantry with younger women.