cherry tree myth

First of all: George Washington did NOT cut down a cherry tree. The fable had young Washington ‘confessing that he was “barking” at his father’s prized offspring.

Yet the entire story is a moral lesson concocted by the patriot’s first biographer, a former Anglican pastor and Bible peddler named Mason L. Weems.

Known nationwide as “Parson” Weems, he wrote several books on good conduct to supplement his Biblical treatises.

His most popular book was: “The life of George Washington with curious anecdotes equally honorable for himself and exemplary for his young compatriots.”

The book was published a year after Washington’s death in December 1799. It contained a wealth of factual information, but it also launched several captions, making our first president seem somewhat of a prude.

This is unfortunate because myths have obscured the true personality of our first president. He was a man of great dignity, but a vital and emotional man. He was ambitious, hardworking, and sensitive to others.

Washington’s integrity was recognized by everyone he met. However, he worked throughout his life to control his temper.

There is no documentation of Weem’s enchanting tale of the cherry tree. He writes that he heard the story from “a distant relative close to the family.”

A close relative claimed they had never heard the story. However, the alleged incident is in keeping with Washington’s childish persona.

He was taught until he was 11 years old by his father, Agustín. The elder Washington emphasized honesty and obedience, as George’s marked textbooks and copy papers still extant attest.

After his father’s death, young Washington taught himself the art of surveying. At the age of 15 he was actively engaged in that occupation. This trade steadily took him across the frontier as far west as Ohio and Kentucky.

In 1754, the governor of Virginia sent Washington to drive out a French force occupying a fort at the fork of the Ohio and Allegheny rivers, now Pittsburgh. The young American commander was defeated and forced to sign a humiliating surrender document. It was the beginning of the French and Indian War.

In later campaigns, George Washington vindicated himself and was chosen for several important military assignments.

Washington was 44 years old and a successful tobacco planter when the American Revolution began. As such, he was reluctant to challenge his homeland militarily.

However, he obeyed the call of the Continental Congress to take over the small army in Boston that had resisted the British siege at Breed Hill, not Bunker Hill as is popularly said.

It took an honest man to face the realities of an irrevocable break with Britain, to take on the dangers and difficulties of creating a new nation against armed might.

The War of Independence is now remembered as the Revolutionary War. In fact, it was our most unpopular war, the Civil War and the Vietnam War notwithstanding. Many colonists were loyal to England and bitterly opposed separation.

Washington’s patience and perseverance achieved resounding success in a bad war. He rightly deserves the nickname: “Father of the Nation.”

It is unfortunate that his true talents and achievements are obscured by the do-gooder image that a well-meaning Parson Weems foisted on his memory.

For example, here is the complete tale of the cherry tree as told by the enthusiastic Weems:

I can’t tell a lie

“When George was about six years old, he became a wealthy hatchet owner, who, like most little boys, was very fond of, and was constantly going about and buying everything that came his way. in the path.

“One day, in the garden where he often amused himself by cutting his mother’s pea-sticks, he unfortunately prodded with the edge of his axe the body of a beautiful young English cherry-tree, at which he barked so terribly that I do not believe the tree ever got the best of him.

“The next morning the old gentleman (Washington’s father), hearing what had happened to his tree—which, by the way, was a great favorite—came into the house. He fondly inquired about the mischievous author, declaring at the same time that he would not have taken five guineas for the tree from him.

“No one could tell him anything about it. At that moment, George and his ax made their appearance. ‘George,’ said his father, ‘do you know who killed that beautiful cherry tree in the garden?’

“This was a difficult question, and George staggered for a moment, but quickly recovered. Looking at his father with the sweet face of youth, alight with the inexpressible charm of all-conquering truth, he bravely cried: ‘No I can Tell a lie, Pa. You know I can’t tell a lie. I did it with my hatchet.

“‘Run into my arms, dearest boy,’ cried his father in a fit. ‘Run into my arms. I’m glad you killed my tree, George, because you’ve paid me a thousand times over for it. Heroism in my son! It is worth more than a thousand trees even if they flourish with silver and their fruits are of the purest gold!'”

I know you were here

Parson Weems was apparently not satisfied that he had adequately described all of Washington’s virtues. He embellished it in the same book with another myth:

“One day Mr. Washington went into the garden and made a little bed of finely pulverized earth. On it he wrote George’s name in large, full letters. Then he put in plenty of cabbage seeds. He covered and smoothed them very well with the roller.

“This bed he made on purpose near a gooseberry path which he knew would be honored by George’s visits when the fruits were ripe.

“It hadn’t been many mornings before George came in with his eyes rolling back and his little cheeks ready to burst with great news.

“‘Oh, Dad! Come here, come here. I’ll show you a show like you’ve never seen in your whole life.’

“The old gentleman, suspecting what George was up to, gave him his hand, which he took with great enthusiasm; and dragging him across the garden, led him point-blank to the bed on which was inscribed in large letters: and on all the freshness of newly sprouted plants: the full name of GEORGE WASHINGTON.

“‘Dad,’ said George, in an ecstasy of wonder, ‘have you ever seen a show like that in all your life? Who did it there?

“‘Grew up there by chance, I suppose, my son.’

“‘Oh dad, you mustn’t say chance did all this. In fact, someone did; and I dare say now, dad, you did it just to scare me because I’m your little one.”

“His father smiled and said, ‘Well, George, you were right. In fact I did; but not to scare you, my son, but to learn something important that I want you to understand. I want to introduce you to your real Father.’

“‘Stop, Dad, aren’t you my real father, who has always loved me and been so good to me?’

“‘Yes, George, I’m your father, as the world calls him. I love you very much too. But, with all my love for you, I’m just a poor, good-for-nothing type of father compared to one you have.

“‘Yeah! I know full well who you mean, Pa. You mean God Almighty, don’t you, but where is God Almighty? I’ve never seen him yet.”

“‘A certain son of mine; but though you never saw him, he is always with you. You did not see me when ten days ago when I made this little bed of plants where you see your name in such beautiful green letters. Although you did. You do not see me here, but you know i was here

“‘Yes, Dad, I know. I know you were here!'”

* * *

So far the poetic license. The truth does not need embroidery.

Washington was that rare historical figure: the right man at the right time in the right place. His whole life was a dedication to the greatest good for the greatest number.

It wasn’t easy for him, but he worked to discipline his shortcomings, replacing pride with honesty, temper with duty. His life is a more inspiring example of our own imperfect nature than the preaching of moralists.

By bundling his birthday with Abraham Lincoln’s into a convenient Presidents Day, to give us another long weekend, we may be missing out on the real lessons these great heroes left us.