Parson Weems, nickname of minister and writer Mason Locke Weems, published several books on famous American heroes such as Benjamin Franklin, William Penn, and Francis Marion. His most popular work, The Life of Washington (1800), transformed him into early America’s greatest biographer. After George Washington’s death in 1799, Weems seized the opportunity to memorialize the early republic’s most revered figure and wrote an entertaining and apocryphal account of Washington’s childhood, accomplishments, and virtues. Perhaps Weems’s most enduring contribution to Washington mythology was the cherry tree story, an anecdote that survived well into the twentieth century and still receives attention today from scholars, pundits, schoolteachers, and cultural commentators.
Born on October 11, 1759, Mason Locke Weems was raised in a moderately wealthy family in Anne Arundel County, Maryland. He wished to pursue a career in ministry and embarked for London to be ordained in the Anglican Church. He returned to Maryland in 1784 and served in several Episcopalian congregations. Weems began selling books out of financial necessity, and eventually he sought a fresh start in the book trade by partnering with publisher Matthew Carey of Philadelphia in 1794. Soon he moved to Dumfries, Virginia, and opened a small bookstore as a base of operations. He continued to travel the countryside, selling literature, preaching, and writing in his spare time.
Mason Locke Weems provides an example of how stories about the deeds of historical figures can enter the realm of legend. Weems concocted the account of young George Washington and the cherry tree to burnish Washington’s reputation for honesty, but the event has no basis in the documentary record. (Ivy Close Images/Alamy Stock Photo)
On December 14, 1799, George Washington died at his home Mount Vernon in Virginia. As word spread across the country, Americans responded with an outpouring of grief unseen before in American history. Government offices and businesses were closed, churches rang bells, and pastors gave eulogies in Washington’s memory. Streets were filled with people for local funeral processions and commemorative speeches. The country’s national hero Washington was no more, but for Weems this moment was an opportunity to capitalize on the American public’s appetite for Washington glorification. As he explained to Matthew Carey in January 1800, “Washington you know is gone! Millions are gaping to read something about him…. My plan! I give his history, sufficiently minute…. I then go on to show that his unparalleled rise and elevation were due to his Great Virtues” (Richardson 2015). He hastily wrote a semifactual biography entitled A History of the Life and Death, Virtues and Exploits of General George Washington. Published in the year after Washington’s death, it became an instant success and elevated Weems into the upper echelons of American literary figures. By 1809, the book had already gone through nine editions and twenty by 1825. Weems continued to add material to new editions, hoping that those who had read previous versions might be persuaded to buy a newer one. His strategy worked brilliantly, as he wove new anecdotes into the existing text to draw more readers into the world of George Washington as Weems imagined it.
The most famous of Weems’s fables comes from the fifth edition, published in 1806. Weems decided to add more material to Washington’s childhood, as readers were much more curious about the early years of their patron hero’s life than the later. He deliberately modeled George as a mischievous child who sometimes found trouble. However, the boy often made the right decision or learned from his mistake when questioned by his father, Augustine Washington. Weems used these invented stories of Washington’s childhood as moral tales for the children of America, hoping that Washington’s honesty and virtue could serve as a model for future generations. In the story, six-year-old George Washington chops down an English cherry tree in the family’s garden. When Augustine questions his son, George ponders for a moment and then admits, “I can’t tell a lie, Pa; you know I can’t tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet.” Augustine embraces his son and praises his honesty, reaffirming the idea that parents must bestow virtue on their children, the future citizens of the republic.
Weems’s editions also included many lesser-known yet powerful myths about George Washington, such as the Indian prophecy that he would never be killed in battle, his prayer at Valley Forge, and his many references to God on his deathbed. As a bookseller and minister, Weems had both material and moralistic motivations. His works were written for both profit and amusement, but he also wished to impart Christian principles to younger readers. The incredible popularity of The Life of Washington speaks to the celebrity culture of early America, but it also illuminates the public’s desire to connect with the departed Washington for personal, political, religious, and cultural reasons.
Matthew R. Costello
See also Founding Myths; Legends; Washington, George
Further Reading
Furstenberg, Francois. 2006. In the Name of the Father: Washington’s Legacy, Slavery, and the Making of a Nation. New York: Penguin Books.
Lengel, Edward. 2011. Inventing George Washington: America’s Founder, in Myth and Memory. New York: HarperCollins.
Richardson, Jay. 2015. “The Cherry Tree Myth.” George Washington’s Mount Vernon website. http://www.mountvernon.org/research-collections/digital-encyclopedia/article/cherry-tree-myth/. Accessed October 19, 2015.
Schwartz, Barry. 1990. George Washington: The Making of an American Symbol. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
Weems, Mason Locke. 1918. A History of the Life and Death, Virtues and Exploits of General George Washington. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott.
Weems, Parson—Primary Document
Mason Locke Weems, The Life of George Washington (1806)
George Washington’s death in 1799 generated an outpouring of praise for the “Father of His Country.” Among these tributes is the now-famous The Life of George Washington by Mason Locke “Parson” Weems, of which this document is an excerpt. First published in 1800, Weems’s book celebrated Washington’s genius for leadership and his total commitment to the infant republic. Weems went a little further than most in his description of Washington’s moral character; in later editions, he passed along the legend of the cherry tree in which Washington tells his father, “I cannot tell a lie.” Weems’s embellishments encouraged the life histories of the founding fathers to be shrouded in myth and folklore for the next two centuries.
Never did the wise Ulysses take more pains with his beloved Telemachus, than did Mr. Washington with George, to inspire him with an early love of truth. “Truth, George,” said he, “is the loveliest quality of youth. I would ride fifty miles, my son, to see the little boy whose heart is so honest, and his lips so pure, that we may depend on every word he says. O how lovely does such a child appear in the eyes of every body! his parents doat on him. His relations glory in him. They are constantly praising him to their children, whom they beg to imitate him. They are often sending for him to visit them; and receive him, when he comes, with as much joy as if he were a little angel, come to set pretty examples to their children.
“But, Oh! how different, George, is the case with the boy who is so given to lying, that nobody can believe a word he says! He is looked at with aversion wherever he goes, and parents dread to see him come among their children. Oh, George! my son! rather than see you come to this pass, dear as you are to my heart, gladly would I assist to nail you up in your little coffin, and follow you to your grave. Hard, indeed, would it be to me to give up my son, whose little feet are always so ready to run about with me, and whose fondly looking eyes and sweet prattle makes so large a part of my happiness. But still I would give him up, rather than see him a common liar.”
“Pa,” said George very seriously, “do I ever tell lies?”
“No, George, I thank God you do not, my son; and I rejoice in the hope you never will. At least, you shall never, from me, have cause to be guilty of so shameful a thing. Many parents, indeed, even compel their children to this vile practice, by barbarously beating them for every little fault: hence, on the next offence, the little terrified creature slips out a lie! just to escape the rod. But as to yourself, George, you know I have always told you, and now tell you again, that, whenever by accident, you do anything wrong, which must often be the case, as you are but a poor little boy yet, without experience or knowledge, you must never tell a falsehood to conceal it; but come bravely up, my son, like a little man, and tell me of it: and, instead of beating you, George, I will but the more honour and love you for it, my dear.”
This, you’ll say, was sowing good seed!—Yes, it was: and the crop, thank God, was, as I believe it ever will be, where a man acts the true parent, that is, the Guardian Angel, by his child.
The following anecdote is a case in point. It is too valuable to be lost, and too true to be doubted; for it was communicated to me by the same excellent lady to whom I am indebted for the last.
“When George,” said she, “was about six years old, he was made the wealthy master of a hatchet! of which, like most little boys, he was immoderately fond, and was constantly going about chopping everything that came in his way. One day, in the garden, where he often amused himself hacking his mother’s pea-sticks, he unluckily tried the edge of his hatchet on the body of a beautiful young English cherry-tree, which he barked so terribly, that I don’t believe the tree ever got the better of it. The next morning the old gentleman, finding out what had befallen his tree, which, by the by, was a great favourite, came into the house; and with much warmth asked for the mischievous author, declaring at the same time, that he would not have taken five guineas for his tree. Nobody could tell him anything about it. Presently George and his hatchet made their appearance. ‘George,’ said his father, ‘do you know who killed that beautiful little cherry tree yonder in the garden?’ This was a tough question; and George staggered under it for a moment; but quickly recovered himself: and looking at his father, with the sweet face of youth brightened with the inexpressible charm of all-conquering truth, he bravely cried out, ‘I can’t tell a lie, Pa; you know I can’t tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet.’—‘Run to my arms, you dearest boy,’ cried his father in transports, ‘run to my arms; glad am I, George, that you killed my tree; for you have paid me for it a thousand fold. Such an act of heroism in my son is more worth than a thousand trees, though blossomed with silver, and their fruits of purest gold.’”
It was in this way by interesting at once both his heart and head, that Mr. Washington conducted George with great ease and pleasure along the happy paths of virtue.
Source: Weems, Mason Locke. The Life of George Washington. 5th ed. Philadelphia: Mathew Carey, 1806; Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Co., 1918.