Editor’s Note: The following is an article originally published on Heritage on May 14, 2025. With edits to match Minding the Campus’s style guidelines, it is crossposted here with permission.
[E]very political philosopher has always recognized, that there must be some conviction, usually embodied in the form of a story that can be told, comprehended, and taken to heart by all, which produces a sense of community and unites the hearts of those who call themselves fellow citizens. Without that fellow feeling there is no basis for mutual trust, and where there is no trust there can be no freedom. — Harry V. Jaffa
In America, that story is of a founding. America did not come about by accident but through the choice of many who came together to form one people, united in their commitment to an idea that would find its purest expression in the Declaration of Independence.
The above quote by Dr. Harry Jaffa speaks to the heart of the controversy surrounding our historic sites, museums, and monuments. Many of our historic sites are unique, irreplaceable gathering places for school trips and family excursions, often bringing together multiple generations of Americans. As such, they form how we educate ourselves and thus preserve our central convictions.
While America is defined primarily by its principles, part of how we tell the American story is through place: through George Washington’s Mount Vernon, Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, and James Madison’s Montpelier. No matter how vividly a site is described in a book, there is something about the physical experience of walking down Washington’s path, about glancing back at Monticello to witness the reality of the relief emblazoned on the nickel, about being in the room where Madison contemplated the Constitution. As our world becomes more disembodied, the impression of experiencing these places becomes lasting and sharpens, perhaps most especially for America’s children.
These homes contain and symbolize America’s heritage. In some ways, Monticello stands for the Declaration of Independence and Montpelier for the Constitution.
Yet, there is something that undergirds both of these. That is the American character: the principles, habits, loves, and way of life that precede and in turn are defined and reinforced by America’s twin founding documents. Before Madison, there was Jefferson, and before Jefferson, there was Washington: a public-spirited man “before there was any public to be spirited about.” If there is a word that describes General Washington and the mission to which he dedicated his life, it is character. Thus, in some ways, it is Mount Vernon that stands for the American national character.
This essay is about Mount Vernon, George Washington, and the American national character. Key to the story is Washington’s personal character and the efforts, like directing the habits of the army and championing the Potomac River Project, that he undertook to form the American national character: a unified character grounded in the principles of the Declaration of Independence and aided by the expanding ties of charity, sympathy, and friendship that the Declaration and the Constitution nourish.
[RELATED: Minding the Campus’s American Revolution Series]
Mount Vernon and Washington’s Character
Approaching Mount Vernon, most people will have “never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.” The mansion is situated in beauty, overlooking the Potomac River on one side and an expansive lawn and countryside on the other. On first appearance, it seems to be made of cream-colored brick with a red roof and black shutters. Upon closer examination, the brick is, in truth, pressed sand formed into pristine blocks. While Washington originally designed the house to be symmetrical, he was adding to an existing structure and was forced to bend to practicality. The mansion is grand and austere without garish pretention, much like Washington the man.
Generally, visitors to Mount Vernon go through the servants’ quarters, the New Room, the upstairs bedrooms, the kitchen, and Washington’s study. We will pause in this last space: a room lined with books, underscoring Washington as not merely a strategic general, but also a brilliant thinker. While Washington did not receive much formal education, he was an avid reader and left behind 1,200 volumes at the end of his life.
Washington was determined to become a man of virtuous reputation and believed in the value of education by habit as well as by reading. As a young man, he meticulously copied a little work entitled “110 Rules of Civility and Decent Behavior in Company and Conversation.” Lest that title give the impression of fussy primness, some of the rules, such as “Let your conversation be without malice or envy,” are anything but fussy or prim. Many in the 18th century saw manners as connected to morals; as manners degraded, so would virtue. Decent habits and simple acts of kindness form the backbone of a good character; they help us to order our reason above our passions and impulses.
Since Washington was so rigid in his character, we can picture him as a somewhat taciturn and distant figure, and there is some truth to that image. Washington was not given to rash action or speech. He had the talent of knowing when to speak and was measured in his communication, so on those rare occasions when he asserted himself, everyone listened. For example, he spoke only a few times at the Constitutional Convention. Yet on the last day, when he stood to give support for a measure regarding representation, the measure passed without debate: a rare occurrence among the strongly opinionated, loquacious delegates.
Both personally and as President, Washington would often solicit advice from various parties before coming to a decision. As Thomas Jefferson wrote:
[P]erhaps the strongest feature in his character was prudence, never acting until every circumstance, every consideration was maturely weighed; refraining if he saw a doubt, but, when once decided, going through with his purpose whatever obstacles opposed. [H]is integrity was most pure, his justice the most inflexible I have ever known.
Despite his reserve, however, Washington was not an unsociable and prickly man, especially in the company of close friends. It was Washington who added the New Room to Mount Vernon, an expansive room with a two-story-high ceiling that was made to accommodate many individuals and various functions. He was known for his dancing skills and wonderful hospitality, once quipping in a letter that, “Unless some one pops in, unexpectedly, Mrs. Washington and myself will do what I believe has not been [done] within the last twenty years by us, that is to set down to dinner by ourselves.”
So Washington had a character that was both sound and compelling. As Daniel Webster said, “America has furnished to the world the character of Washington! And if our American institutions had done nothing else, that alone would have entitled them to the respect of mankind…”
Continue reading at heritage.org.
Image: “WestFrontMansionMountVernon” by Otherspice on Wikimedia Commons with black and white effect added by Jared Gould
