The editors were aided in their refrigerating enterprise by a throng of partisan biographers, first among whom was the Rev. Mr. Weems, that arch-manipulator of facts for moral purposes. They were helped also by many of our old sculptors and painters, who were evidently more concerned to portray a grand American hero in a wig than to give us a real man of flesh and blood.
"By such devices," writes Owen Wister,[2] "was a frozen image of George Washington held up for Americans to admire, rigid with congealed virtue, ungenial, unreal, to whom from our school-days up we have been paying a sincere and respectful regard, but a regard without interest, sympathy, heart--or, indeed, belief. It thrills a true American to the marrow to learn at last that this far-off figure, this George Washington, this man of patriotic splendor, the captain and savior of our Revolution, the self-sacrificing and devoted President, was a man also with a hearty laugh, with a love of the theater, with a white-hot temper ... a constant sportsman, fox-hunter, and host...."
"The unfreezing of Washington was begun by Irving, but was in that day a venture so new and startling, that Irving, gentleman and scholar, went at it gingerly and with many inferential deprecations. His hand, however, first broke the ice, and to-day we can see the live and human Washington, full length. He does not lose an inch by it, and we gain a progenitor of flesh and blood."
Since Irving the thawing process has been carried on with growing success by such able biographers as Lodge and Scudder, Hapgood and Ford, Woodrow Wilson, Owen Wister, and Frederick Trevor Hill.
As yet this new idea of Washington's essential humanity has seemed too novel and startling to make its way deep into the popular conviction. I say "new idea." In reality it is a very old idea; only it has been smothered by the partisan writers of history and biography. Certainly the accounts of the first celebrations of Washington's Birthday do not sound as though our ancestors were trying to work up their enthusiasm over a steel-engraving hero.
"It was the most natural thing," writes Walsh,[3] "for our forefathers to choose Washington's Birthday as a time for general thanksgiving and rejoicing, and it is interesting to note that the observance was not delayed until after the death of Washington. Washington had the satisfaction of receiving the congratulations of his fellow-citizens many times upon the return of his birthday, frequently being a guest at the banquets given in honor of the occasion. In fact, after the Revolution, Washington's Birthday practically took the place of the birthday of the various crowned heads of Great Britain, which had always been celebrated with enthusiasm during colonial times. When independence was established, all these royal birthdays were cast aside, and the birthday of Washington naturally became one of the most conspicuous in the calendar of America's holidays.