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either are to be had, there being few or no Inhabitants where we now lie Encampd, & butter cannot be had here
to supply the wants of the army.”

Plus, he apologized for not visiting the last time he went to Williamsburg.

So, yeah, George’s mom was a handful. As Washington’s cousin Lawrence later remarked about her: “Of the
mother, I was ten times more afraid than I ever was of my own parents.”

But it’s possible now to look at the fullness of Mary Washington’s story and see something else. Those qualities
that made her hard to deal with also served her well in a harsh era in which the odds were stacked against her.
Or, more significantly, against her son — born in the Virginia colony to a distracted British businessman who
already had two sons from a previous marriage.
In the world of his father, Augustine Washington, George was a middle child and nothing special. But to Mary
Ball, he was her firstborn, and he was going to get what was coming to him.

Augustine died when George was 11 and Mary was about 35. She could have remarried. But a new husband
would have gotten title to her land. And Augustine’s will had provisions giving his eldest son control over
George’s inheritance, if that happened.

So she did the hard thing and stayed single. She managed the property herself, saddling up and riding around
to collect rent. She had been an orphan by age 13 and was used to standing alone.

Raising five kids and managing a farm and a corps of enslaved workers was demanding. Mary Washington was
known to jangle as she swooped about, clusters of keys dangling from her waist. She gardened and rode horses
until near the end of her long life...
Mary lived down the hill from her daughter and up the
street from another son. She may have pestered them
for money, from time to time, but she insisted on being
self‐sufficient — with the help of a half‐dozen slaves —
until the end…

Sure, she was a little kooky — the constant harping on
money. The butter. But she not only gave birth to
George Washington, she also nurtured and protected
the icon who still stands as almost universally admired.
Created him, in many ways. And she lived life, as much
as she could, by her own terms.

Mary was right, by the way. George never saw her again
after that visit in spring of 1789. But according to the
memoirs of Washington’s step‐grandson, George
Washington Parke Custis, she sent him off in grand
fashion.

“But go, George,” she said, dying of breast cancer, “fulfil
the high destinies which Heaven appears to have in‐
tended for you; go, my son, and may that Heaven’s and
a mother’s blessing be with you always.”