American History Tellers - First Ladies | Martha Washington | 1

Episode Date: June 26, 2024

In 1757, 26-year-old Martha Dandridge Custis was the wealthiest widow in Virginia when she caught the eye of George Washington, a young military hero and landowner. Their marriage thrust Martha into a public life she never anticipated. She would follow Washington from the army camps of the Revolutionary War to the presidential mansion. When Washington was inaugurated as the first U.S. president, Martha became the first woman to serve as America’s first lady. With no precedent to follow, she navigated uncharted waters while facing intense public scrutiny.Order your copy of the new American History Tellers book, The Hidden History of the White House, for behind-the-scenes stories of some of the most dramatic events in American history—set right inside the house where it happened.Listen to American History Tellers on the Wondery App or wherever you get your podcasts. Experience all episodes ad-free and be the first to binge the newest season. Unlock exclusive early access by joining Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial today by visiting https://wondery.com/links/american-history-tellers/ now. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's a Friday evening in April 1794. You're a Democratic-Republican Party loyalist, and you're in the grand state drawing room in the presidential mansion in Philadelphia. The president's wife, Mrs. Washington, is perched on a raised sofa, and you're at the front of a line of guests waiting to be greeted by her. You smooth your cravat as you approach her, lowering your head in the customary formal bow. She acknowledges you with a respectful nod. Having greeted your hostess,

you retreat to the drinks table in search of a glass of lemonade. That's when you spot Thomas Woodhouse, a state representative you're friendly with. Good evening, Thomas. Quite the gathering, is it not? He shakes your hand with a wry grin. Indeed. I've never seen the room so crowded. And what about all this pomp? If you ask me, the whole affair seems rather... out of place in a democracy. Thomas takes a sip of lemonade, his brow furrowed as he considers your words.

I hadn't thought of it in that light. Mrs. Washington strikes me as a perfectly amiable hostess. She asked me about my wife and newborn son. How she knew of his birth, I have no idea. My wife will be thrilled. Of course, she's a charming lady. But does it not trouble you, having to bow and scrape to a woman who holds no elected position in the government? These rituals smack of monarchy.

I won't deny that this formality does seem rather excessive. You nod, encouraged by his response. And the fact that the president refuses to support the new French Republic. He condemns our French brethren fighting for liberty, all while his own wife presides over gatherings that would not seem out of place in the Palace of Versailles. Woodhouse turns his gaze to Mrs. Washington, who is still receiving bows and curtsies from her guests. I suppose she does carry herself rather like a queen. This is precisely the type of corruption my fellow Republicans and I are fighting against. The creeping influence of monarchy on our nascent democracy.

There's going to be a party meeting on Monday. Why don't you accompany me? I don't know. Come now, we need reasoned men like you in our ranks. If you need any evidence that the principles of our revolution have been cast aside, look no further than this very room and the principles of our revolution have been cast aside, look no further than this very room and the wife of our president. Woodhouse shrugs, acknowledging your point.

I suppose I could join for one meeting. You clap your hand on his shoulder, excitement coursing through you. You're determined to ensure this democracy doesn't fall prey to monarchists or anyone else who might drag it down. I'm Sachi Cole. And I'm Sarah Hagee. And we're the hosts of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of the most infamous scams of all time, the impact on victims, and what's left once the facade falls away. Follow Scamfluencers on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, this is Nick.

And this is Jack. And we just launched a brand new podcast called The Best Idea Yet. You may have heard of it. It's all about the untold origin stories of the products you're obsessed with. Listen to The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers.

Our history, your story. On our show, we'll take you to the events, the times, and the people that shaped America and Americans, our values, our struggles, and our dreams. We'll put you in the shoes of everyday people as history was being made, and we'll show you how the events of the times affected them, their families, and affects you now. When George Washington assumed the presidency in 1789, Martha Washington became the first woman to serve as First Lady of the United States. As the nation's hostess, she opened the doors of the executive mansion to the American people. But her efforts to lend prestige to the presidency sparked criticism that she was recreating a royal court in the new Democratic Republic. Martha Washington had no guidebook to follow. Though the founders took great pains to lay out the powers and the limits

of the presidency, the role of First Lady was not considered an official government position and lacked a defined set of responsibilities. It evolved alongside the changing status of women in American life. Early on, First Ladies focused their efforts on social and ceremonial duties. Some served as close confidants and unofficial advisors to their husbands. And as time passed, many leveraged their platforms to wield influence and pursue their own initiatives. But in the very beginning, Martha Washington had to invent a role that had no precedent. Although strong-willed by nature, she was trained from birth to be a dutiful wife and hostess. But even she could not anticipate the restrictions she would face as a

partner of the president. For eight long years, she sacrificed her freedom and privacy for public duty. But despite her deep reluctance to enter public life, she served with warmth and grace, performing a careful balancing act that would come to define the role of First Lady. In this series, we'll explore the groundbreaking achievements of five of America's most remarkable First Ladies, from their origins to the moment they courageously stepped into the role and beyond. If you'd like to learn more about other notable First Ladies, you can read about them in a new book inspired by American history tellers. inside the iconic seat of American presidential power, revealing 15 behind-the-scenes moments that changed the course of history, like First Lady Dolly Madison's efforts to save priceless American artifacts from the British when they burned down the White House in 1814, or Edith Wilson's decision to keep her husband Woodrow's stroke a secret

and assume his presidential duties. The Hidden History of the White House is available now from William Morrow, wherever you get your books. Follow the link in the show notes to learn more. This is Episode 1 in our five-part series on First Ladies, Martha Washington. Martha Dandridge was born in June 1731 on a small tobacco plantation east of Richmond, Virginia. Her mother, Frances's family, had lived in Virginia for generations. Her father, John, had immigrated from England

and risen to become a reasonably successful planter. Martha was the eldest of their eight children. Although the Dandridges were relatively well-off, they were far from the upper echelons of Virginia society. But they managed to give Martha an above-average education for a girl of her class. She learned to read and gained basic math and writing skills. She was also taught dancing, horseback riding, and the art of making polite conversation, as well as domestic work such as cooking, sewing, and candle making.

Like many young women of her social class, her parents raised her to make a good marriage and eventually manage her own household. When Martha was 17, she caught the eye of Daniel Park Custis, who was 20 years her senior and the heir to one of the largest fortunes in Virginia. Daniel was smitten with Martha, but his controlling father, John Custis, vehemently opposed the match, even threatening his son with disinheritance if he married her without his permission. But when the elder Custis finally met Martha, she changed his mind. She had a warm and lively personality, and the cantankerous old man

told his son that he was enamored with her character. At last he gave his consent to the match, and Martha and Daniel were married in 1750. Shortly after, they moved into a two-story home called White House, and at just 19 years old, Martha was tasked with supervising a large household staff, including a dozen enslaved servants. Over the next seven years, Martha gave birth to four children. Although illness would claim the first two at a young age, the two remaining children, John Park Custis, known as Jackie, and Martha Park Custis, affectionately called Patsy, survived infancy.

But in July 1757, Martha's husband, Daniel, died of a severe throat infection. At the age of just 26, Martha became the wealthiest widow in Virginia. Suddenly, she was responsible for 17,000 acres and nearly 300 enslaved laborers across five plantations. Along with raising two young children, she had to maintain the properties, buy supplies, sell crops, pay debts, and oversee the well-being of hundreds of people. But despite her youth and inexperience, she proved to have an innate knack for business. She would later advise a young niece, Exert yourself in the management of your estate, for dependence is a wretched state.

In 18th century America, it was unusual for a widow to remain unmarried, especially one as young and wealthy as Martha Custis. And in 1758, just a year after her husband's death, she found a new suitor, a dashing young colonel named George Washington. At 25 years old, Washington had already made a name for himself fighting in the French and Indian War. He was the third son of a middle-class planter, and although upon his death his father had left his estate to his eldest son, George's older half-brother, George had become a landowner in his own right, as well as a member of the House of Burgesses, Virginia's colonial legislature.

Now in his mid-twenties, he had been thinking about marriage for nearly a year when he paid Martha a visit at her home in the spring of 1758. Martha was rich, attractive, and charming. And although Washington had experienced strong feelings for other women before, it was clear Martha was a pragmatic match for a rising landowner. Martha had other suitors, but she was immediately taken with Washington, despite his lower social and economic status. At six foot two inches, he towered over her five-foot frame. He was strong and athletic, as graceful on the dance floor as he was on horseback, and they shared an interest in plays and music. Although he was far more reserved than her, Martha sensed that George was kind and honorable, someone she could trust with her children and her inheritance. Before long, the pair began planning a future together. Washington resigned his military commission to become a full-time planter, and in January 1759, they were married. Soon after,

the newlyweds moved, along with Martha's young children, Jackie and Patsy, to Mount Vernon, George's plantation estate in northern Virginia. For two years, George had been enlarging the farmhouse he inherited from his brother into a larger mansion. Construction was still ongoing, but the beauty of the grounds was plain to see. The house stood on a sloping lawn overlooking the Potomac River. Martha was eager to begin her new life, but in remarrying, she had lost her legal and financial independence. By law, George assumed control of her property, finances, and even her children. So it was George who took on the responsibility of supervising the Custis estate, which included plantations and hundreds of

enslaved people. And over the next several years, George used Martha's fortune to make improvements to Mount Vernon. He purchased additional land and enslaved laborers to plant more tobacco. And while George managed the family's finances, Martha returned to the more traditional female role of running the household. She entertained visitors and oversaw the kitchen, smokehouse, dairy, and spinning work. The couple proved a good match, and George soon discovered that married life agreed with him. He reflected, I am now, I believe, fixed at this seat with an agreeable consort for life and hope to find more happiness in retirement than I ever experienced amidst a wide and bustling world. Although the Washingtons never had any children together,

George proved to be a caring stepfather. He raised Jackie and Patsy as his own. The Washingtons' marriage may have begun as a strategic alliance, but it would ultimately blossom into a deep and lasting love. George and Martha enjoyed nearly 14 years of domestic tranquility, but when they were in their 40s, their peaceful home life abruptly came to an end. In 1773, Martha's teenage daughter, Patsy, died of an epileptic seizure, sending Martha into deep mourning. Soon after, her son Jackie married and moved away. Martha was bereft and she would soon

have to part with her husband as well. In the summer of 1774, growing tensions between the colonies and Britain pulled George away from Mount Vernon. He served as a delegate to the Continental Congress in Philadelphia, and when war broke out in April 1775, Congress named him Commander of the New National Army. George wrote to Martha to tell her the news, describing his reluctance to accept the position. He declared, I should enjoy more real happiness and felicity in one month with you at home than I have the most distant prospect of reaping abroad if my stay were to be seven times seven years. Although he hated to leave Martha, his sense of honor and duty compelled him to accept the position. But with the country at war, he knew that his new command put a target on his wife's back. Imagine it's June 1775 in Mount Vernon, Virginia. The familiar scent of freshly cut

grass and summer blooms envelops you as you step onto the back porch of your family home. You find your mother sitting in her favorite chair, staring out at the expansive view of the Potomac River. She looks up at you in surprise. Darling, what are you doing here? Father sent me. He's worried about you. She shakes her head, her expression hardening. The general should reserve his worries for his army. As happy as I am to see you, you shouldn't have troubled yourself. I'm perfectly content. He thinks you ought to stay with Uncle Burwell, just until winter. How could I leave when there's so much to do here? I have to supervise construction of the new extension to the house.

You sit down in the chair beside her. But what does that matter when there's a war going on? The war is hundreds of miles away. For now. There's a British ship anchored near Williamsburg, Mother. It's within striking distance of any target on Virginia's rivers. That includes Mount Vernon. I won't be chased out of my own home. But you're completely unprotected here.

British soldiers could sail up the Potomac any day. No one has any idea how this war will turn out or whether civilians will come under attack. Especially someone as prominent as you. They could take you and hold you ransom. And you think I would let them? Your mother grins, and your frustration builds. Don't underestimate what a prize you would be. The wife of the rebel commander-in-chief.

You need to go somewhere safe. Her fingers tighten around the neglected needlework in her lap. She turns her gaze back to the river, and you know the conversation is over. Defeated, you head back into the quiet of the house. You admire your mother's courage and strong sense of duty, but her cavalier attitude worries you. You fear this war won't leave anyone untouched. In the summer of 1775, George Washington urged his stepson Jackie to try to persuade Martha to leave Mount Vernon for her own safety, but she stubbornly refused. In the 18th century,

armies typically stopped fighting in the winter and settled into encampments until spring. But by October 1775, Washington realized that he could not leave his troops for the winter. His army was still little more than a conglomeration of state militias, and he feared that it would disintegrate without his presence. So instead of going home over the winter to see his wife, he wrote to Martha and invited her to come stay with him in his headquarters in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Martha was eager to see her husband, so in November she set out on a difficult three-week journey north. It was the first time she had ever left Virginia. She arrived in Cambridge in December, and there she moved into a house where Washington was living with a close circle of officers known as the Family. At first, Martha struggled to

adjust to these new circumstances. She wrote to a friend, Some days we have a number of cannon and shells from Boston and Bunker Hill, but it does not seem to surprise anyone but me. I confess I shudder every time I hear the sound of a gun. She called the preparations for war very terrible indeed, but resolved to keep up a brave front, insisting that she was determined to keep my fears to myself as well as I can. As Martha settled into Army headquarters, her warm and friendly presence cheered Washington and uplifted his troops' morale. She staged social events, helped copy letters, comforted the wounded, and she encouraged others to do the same. And then, when fighting resumed in the spring of 1776, Martha returned to Mount Vernon. But every winter, for the rest of the war, she returned to Washington's side, helping to create a semblance of home during hard times. American soldiers learned to look for the arrival of her carriage, which signaled that fighting was over for the winter. She found the trips exhausting, but her efforts earned her a reputation for patriotism and

sacrifice that boosted her husband's popularity. But the war was not without its costs. In the fall of 1781, Martha's son, Jack Custis, now 27, convinced his stepfather, George, to allow him to join the army as an aid to camp at Yorktown, Virginia. But then in November, he died of camp fever, leaving Martha with a terrible burden of having outlived all four of her children. As it turned out, Jack died in the final weeks of the war. Yorktown was the last major military operation of the American Revolution. And in 1783, Americans celebrated the signing of the Treaty of Paris, which officially ended the war. On December 23rd of that year, Washington resigned his military commission.

Tears ran down his cheeks as he said his farewells. A private citizen once more, he galloped home to Mount Vernon. George and Martha had grappled with years of difficulty and loss, and they were eager to finally retire from public life. But it wouldn't be long before they were once again asked to answer the call of duty. How did Birkenstocks go from a German cobbler's passion project 250 years ago to the Barbie movie today? Who created that bottle of red sriracha with a green top that's permanently living in your fridge? Did you know that the Air Jordans were initially

banned by the NBA? We'll explore all that and more in The Best Idea Yet, a brand new podcast from Wondery and T-Boy. This is Nick. This is Jack. And we've covered over a thousand episodes of pop business news stories on our daily podcast. We've identified the most viral products of all time. And their wild origin stories that you had no idea about. From the Levi's 501 jeans to Legos. Come for the products you're obsessed with. Stay for the business insights that are going to blow up your group chat. Jack, Nintendo, Super Mario Brothers.

Best selling video game of all time. How'd they do it? Nintendo never fires anyone. Ever. Follow The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to The Best Idea Yet early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. For more than two centuries, the White House has been the stage for some of the most dramatic scenes in American history. Inspired by the hit podcast American History Tellers, Wondery and William Morrow present the new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, the world-altering decisions,

and shocking scandals that have shaped our nation. You'll be there when the very foundations of the White House are laid in 1792, and you'll watch as the British burn it down in 1814. Then you'll hear the intimate conversations between FDR and Winston Churchill as they make plans to defeat Nazi forces in 1941. And you'll be in the Situation Room when President Barack Obama approves the raid to bring down the most infamous terrorist in American history. Order The Hidden History of the White House now in hardcover or digital edition, wherever you get your books. After the end of the Revolutionary War, George and Martha Washington happily settled back into life at Mount Vernon. Martha's late son, Jack Custis, had left behind four children. His widow

allowed Martha and George to take in the younger two, George and Eleanor. The Washingtons threw themselves into farming, entertaining, and raising their grandchildren. Martha was relieved to finally have George at home with her, but George was soon pulled back into public life. In 1787, after much persuading from the Virginia legislature, he traveled to Philadelphia to attend the Constitutional Convention, where he was elected to serve as presiding officer. The Constitution created the new position of president, a chief executive who would be elected every four years. Washington's reputation virtually guaranteed that he would be chosen to fill the role,

which he dreaded. And much to his and Martha's dismay, on April 14, 1789, George was elected as America's first president. Later that day, he wrote in his diary declaring, About ten o'clock I bade adieu to Mount Vernon, to private life, and to domestic felicity. When Martha heard the news, she wrote to a friend, describing her disappointment that she and George had not been left to grow old in solitude and tranquility together. Both Washingtons were now fifty-seven, and showing signs of aging. Their hair had faded, and both wore false teeth. Martha thought that George was far too old to participate in public life, but she set aside her own desires and resigned herself to supporting her husband's

call to duty. She declared, I am still determined to be cheerful and to be happy in whatever situation I may be, for I have also learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends upon our dispositions and not upon our circumstances. But George's new role meant that he and Martha would have to move to New York, the new nation's temporary capital. So while Martha remained behind in Mount Vernon to pack up the house, George traveled to New York, where on April 30, 1789, he was inaugurated as America's first president. Two weeks later, Martha set out to join him in New York. As she traveled north with her adopted grandchildren, she came face to face with her new reality of living as a national

public figure. In nearly every town she passed through, she was greeted by cheering supporters. Citizens hailed her as Lady Washington and set off celebratory fireworks in her honor. In late May, the president met her in New Jersey and then escorted her to New York on a brightly decorated presidential barge. When she stepped onto the shores of Manhattan, she was welcomed by crowds of cheering New Yorkers and a 13-gun salute. She briefly thanked the supporters, a rare speech in a time when women seldom spoke in public. Then she joined her husband in a three-story rented house on Cherry Street, along with her two grandchildren, two secretaries, and several free and enslaved servants. The new presidential mansion was located on a busy thoroughfare near the wards

along the East River. The constant clamor of ship's bells, wagons, and stray dogs was a far cry from the tranquility of Mount Vernon. And as the Washingtons settled into their new home, they were also immediately inundated with callers. After two weeks, Martha complained, I've not had one half hour to myself since the day of my arrival. The Washingtons were determined, though, to remain accessible to the public, in stark contrast to the aloof monarchs of Europe. But they soon found that the mobs of people arriving at all hours interfered with the president's ability to do his job. As the nation's first president and first lady, the Washingtons were navigating uncharted

waters. They needed to strike a balance between upholding democratic principles while asserting the new nation's status and prestige in the eyes of the world. No one knew if the American experiment would succeed. The U.S. was deep in debt, and the machinery of government had yet to be established. George and Martha hoped to project a sense of dignity and stability. Their only precedents were European kings and queens, so in creating their brand new roles, they had to walk a sense of dignity and stability. Their only precedents were European kings and queens, so in creating their brand new roles, they had to walk a fine line of commanding respect

while not appearing to replicate monarchy. Hoping to find a middle ground, George set up official calling hours. On Tuesday afternoons, he hosted formal receptions called levies for any man who wished to call on him, as long as they were suitably attired. Martha hosted both men and women in Friday evening receptions called drawing rooms. George appeared at the levees wearing a black velvet suit with

a dress sword at his side and a cocked hat in his gloved hand. The events were extremely formal, and Washington tended to be stiff and unapproachable. Rather than shake hands, he received guests with a formal bow. Martha's crowded Friday drawing rooms were slightly more relaxed. She sat on a raised sofa where guests greeted her with a curtsy or bow. Afterwards, they were free to move about the room and mingle. Visitors called her Lady Washington or Madam Presidentress, though Martha preferred the simpler title of Mrs. Washington.

It would be decades before the term First Lady came into use. But from the start, the Washingtons' reception sparked controversy. They were accused of being elitist, frivolous, and anti-Republican. A Pennsylvania senator called the gatherings a feature of royalty and certainly anti-Republican. Another critic insisted that there was more pomp at George's levees than there was at the British royal court. For many, the receptions were proof that the president had strayed from the ideals of the revolution, and the boundaries placed on access to the executive mansion only added fuel to the fire. Imagine you're in New York City in December 1789.

You stand on the threshold of a three-story brick house, the President's Cherry Street Mansion. You're a father of three and a veteran of the Revolutionary War, but you've fallen on hard times for the past few years. About to knock on the President's door, trepidation washes over you. You take a deep breath to steady your nerves. The door swings open to reveal a tall, liveried footman. He sweeps his gaze over you, his eyes lingering on your empty coat sleeve rolled up and pinned at your right shoulder. Can I help you? I'm here to call on His Excellency. It's Tuesday afternoon. These are the President's official calling hours, aren't they? The footman's lips

purse with disapproval as he gestures to your worn collar and patched flannel trousers. You're not appropriately attired to meet the president, but it's important. If you would just let me in. Come back when you've dressed yourself to a standard befitting of the presidential mansion. But I don't have money for new clothes. I lost my arm in the war. Decent work has been The footman's stony expression softens, but he still shakes his head. Be that as it may, this house has standards. You feel a tight knot in your throat, but you push it down, determined to plead your case. Please! I fought for this country, for General Washington. I deserve to speak with him. Step aside, James.

You crane your neck to see a plump, white-haired woman approach the door. As the footman stands back to make room for her, recognition dawns upon you. You bow your head slightly. Lady Washington. She gestures for you to follow. Please, come inside. Are you thirsty? Let me offer you some refreshments in the steward's room.

You can tell me about lighter in your step. Even if it is just for a brief moment, you don't feel quite so weighed down by your burdens. During George Washington's presidency, Congress reneged on earlier promises to provide back pay to soldiers who fought in the Revolutionary War. Many ragged veterans called on the executive mansion only to be denied an audience with their former commander because they were not considered suitably dressed. But in a time before the U.S. government awarded service pensions to veterans, Martha Washington gained a reputation for her kindness toward Revolutionary War soldiers.

She often invited them in for refreshments and offered them small gifts of money. Her efforts, though narrow in scope, served as an early example of a First Lady using her position for charity and advocacy. But for the most part, Martha's days were filled with a whirlwind of dinners, receptions, and ceremonies. But a year into the role, she had begun to chafe against the restrictions on her life. Every day, she had to dress formally, have her hair coiffed, and receive visitors. She was forced to refuse invitations to private gatherings so as not to

be seen as picking favorites. And although she maintained a cheerful outward appearance, privately she felt trapped. In a letter to her niece, she confessed, I live a very dull life here and know nothing that passes in the town. I never go to any public place. Indeed, I think I am more like a state prisoner than anything else. There are certain bounds set for me which I must not depart from, and as I cannot do as I like, I am obstinate and stay at home a great deal. But one silver lining was her growing friendship with Abigail Adams, the wife of Vice President John Adams. Abigail often joined Martha in her Friday drawing rooms, greeting guests by her side. Although Abigail was more intellectual and outspoken than Martha,

she appreciated Martha's kind, unpretentious manner, declaring, Mrs. Washington is one of those unassuming characters who create love and esteem. I found myself much more deeply impressed than I ever did before their Majesties of Britain. So although Martha struggled with the restrictions on her movements and activities, she recognized the importance of her role as hostess. When Congress was in session, she invited cabinet members, senators, congressmen, and foreign ministers to dinner parties on Thursday nights. While her husband could be stoic and reserved, Martha had a knack for putting guests at ease,

a skill she had cultivated since childhood. Her presence reminded guests that George was not just a general and a politician, he was also a husband and family man. These dinner parties also brought together men with opposing views, so they had a chance to interact. In the early days of the new nation, the relationships built in the Washington's dining room helped to keep the government running. But then, in the fall of 1790, the Washingtons relocated to the new national capital in Philadelphia. They moved into a three-story brick house that had ample space for entertaining.

Martha enjoyed the city's livelier social scene and closer proximity to Mount Vernon. But she was horrified of talk of a second term for her husband. Both George and Martha initially planned for just one term. George was nearing 60 and had already suffered two severe illnesses in office. So, in early 1792, George informed his cabinet that he planned to resign. They urged him, though, to accept a second term, arguing that the nation needed his leadership. Martha begged her husband to decline, fearing he would not survive another term. But once again, George Washington's sense of duty prevailed. In early 1793, George was unanimously re-elected.

With Martha by his side, he took the oath of office in a simple ceremony in the Senate chambers. But neither George nor Martha anticipated the difficulties they would have to face over the next four years. In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother. But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even darker. Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her. And she wasn't the only target. Because buried in the depths of the internet is the Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses,

and specific instructions for people's murders. This podcast is the true story of how I ended up in a race against time to warn those who lives were in danger.

And it turns out, convincing a total stranger someone wants them dead is not easy. Follow Kill List on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List

and more Exhibit C true crime shows like Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. Dracula, the ancient vampire who terrorizes Victorian London. Blood and garlic, bats and crucifixes. Even if you haven't read the book, you think you know the story.

One of the incredible things about Dracula is that not only is it this wonderful snapshot of the 19th century, but it also has so much resonance today. The vampire doesn't cast a reflection in a mirror. So when we look in the mirror, the only thing we see is our own monstrous abilities. From the host and producer of American History Tellers and History Daily comes the new podcast, The Real History of Dracula. We'll reveal how author Bram Stoker raided ancient folklore, exploited Victorian fears around sex, science, and religion, and how even today we remain in thrall to his

strange creatures of the night. You can binge all episodes of The Real History of Dracula exclusively with Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus and The Wond 1793, two distinct political parties had emerged. Washington and his Federalist supporters favored a strong national government, while Thomas Jefferson and the Democratic-Republicans feared that a strong central authority would threaten states' rights and individual freedoms. As their rivalry grew at home, both groups were keenly aware of a rising conflict abroad. In early 1793, French radicals executed King Louis XVI in an escalation of the Revolution tearing France apart. Washington and the Federalists were skeptical of the increasingly violent French Revolution, but their Republican rivals sympathized with France, which had supported the American cause during their Revolutionary War. They accused Washington and the Federalists of wanting to

reinstate monarchy in America. As political divisions hardened, George and Martha Washington's social gatherings increasingly came under attack for compromising the principles of the American Revolution. The leading Republican newspaper called the president's levies the legitimate offspring of inequality begotten by aristocracy and monarchy by corruption. But it was Martha who bore the brunt of the criticism. Republicans described her receptions as queenly and denounced her practice of sitting on a raised seat where guests bowed or curtsied to her. Many were horrified by the presence of female guests at her receptions, a practice they associated with European salons and royal courts. Thomas Jefferson, in particular, believed that

meddling aristocratic women exerted too much power in European royal courts and insisted that in America, only men should enter political spaces. President Washington's domestic and foreign policies also ignited accusations that he favored monarchy. In the summer of 1794, he personally led federal militiamen to Pennsylvania to suppress a violent uprising against a federal tax on whiskey. Soon after, he signed a controversial treaty with Great Britain, spurring criticism that he was overstepping his authority in negotiating the agreement. One newspaper contributor called Washington, "...the man who has entailed upon his country deep and incurable public evils."

In private, this constant barrage of criticism angered Martha. She longed to escape the bitter partisan divide and return to Mount Vernon, but she still did her best to stay above the fray and refrain from making any comments or political statements. She looked forward to Washington's retirement, writing about her hopes that soon the curtain will fall on our public life and place us in a more tranquil theater. And much to her relief, on March 4, 1797, Washington's second term came to an end, as John Adams was inaugurated as America's second president, and Abigail Adams succeeded Martha as first lady.

Finally, the Washingtons were free to return to their beloved Mount Vernon, where they threw themselves into farming, gardening, and building repairs. But the tranquil life they had finally regained lasted just two and a half years. On a cold, rainy day in December 1799, George went out for a ride and returned home wet and shivering. But he refused to change out of his sodden clothes. He had a sore throat the next day, but he still insisted on going out into the snow to mark trees for cutting. That night, he had trouble breathing, and in the morning, Martha summoned doctors who treated his throat infection with bleeding and purging,

a customary practice at the time. Despite the treatments, or perhaps in part because of them, George Washington died that night at the age of 67. Martha said, "'Tis well. All is now over. I shall soon follow him. I have no more trials to pass through. In the wake of her husband's death, Martha closed their bedroom and moved into a small garret room where she knitted, sewed, and responded to letters. She assigned the management of Mount Vernon to others, and she burned almost all the letters she ever wrote to her husband in an effort to reclaim the privacy she had lost over decades of public service. But after retreating from the public eye,

she spoke more openly about politics to her friends and acquaintances. She had never forgotten Thomas Jefferson's criticisms of her husband or the attacks of his supporters. And after Jefferson himself won the presidency in 1800, a visitor reported that Martha spoke of the election of Mr. Jefferson, whom she considered one of the most detestable of mankind, as the greatest misfortune our country has ever experienced. She was horrified by Jefferson's casual style in the White House

and called his party, the Democratic-Republicans, filthy Democrats. Over the course of George Washington's life, he had gradually come to accept that slavery was wrong and was alone among America's founders in freeing his slaves, but only did so after his death. Of more than 300 enslaved people at Mount Vernon, Washington owned 123 outright, and he left instructions in his will for their emancipation upon Martha's eventual death. But by law, neither George nor Martha could free the 153 dower slaves tied to the estate of her first husband, Daniel Custis. She was legally entitled to their labor during her lifetime, but she could not sell or free them, and upon her death they would be divided among her four

grandchildren. George Washington's will had made the freedom of 123 people contingent on Martha's death, and despite his good intentions, this provision created a dilemma for Martha. White Southerners lived in fear of slave uprisings. Martha became convinced that George's slaves might kill her to gain their freedom immediately rather than wait for her to die a natural death. Abigail Adams reported she did not feel as though her life was safe in their hands. So her legal advisor suggested that she free them early. She did, and set the date of January 1, 1801 for their emancipation.

Imagine it's Christmas morning, 1800, in Mount Vernon, Virginia. You're an enslaved carpenter, and you pass two of your daughters playing outside as you trudge back to your cabin with a load of firewood in your arms. You push open the door to find your wife Kitty hunched over the table, furiously peeling potatoes for Christmas dinner. You can tell she's worried about something. What's the matter, honey? She drops her knife and sighs. Words going around that Mistress Washington is going to be setting a bunch of folks free come New Year's Day.

Including you. Her words hang in the air, and for the moment you're frozen in disbelief. As you grasp what she's just told you, a surge of emotion rushes through you. The firewood in your arms tumbles to a surge of emotion rushes through you. The firewood in your arms tumbles to the floor as you rush over to Kitty. You scoop her up in your arms and spin her around. Free? You really mean it? You set her down and she nods with a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes.

Yes. Free. Already, your mind races with possibility. Think about it. We could buy a small plot of land and build a bigger house. I'll get carpentry work and you could do your spinning. We could finally live on our terms. A shadow crosses her face. Maybe you can, but I can't.

You don't understand. I'm not going to be freed. What do you mean? Only the master slaves are going free. My mother was a Custis slave. She belonged to the mistress' first husband. I'll have to stay. And so will our daughters, and their children too.

You shake your head, trying to make sense of this, grasping for some shred of hope. But surely the mistress could do something. After all, she was a Custis before she was a Washington. Can't she keep us together? I don't think it works that way. I'm not gonna leave you, Kitty. I'll find a place nearby so we can stay together. I promise. Your heart sinks at the thought of being separated from your wife and daughters. As the weight of this news crashes down upon you, you pull her into a tight embrace. You know that freedom won't mean anything without your family by your side. On January 1st, 1801, Martha Washington freed 123 of her husband's slaves in accordance with his will.

They included Mount Vernon's head carpenter, Isaac. But because Isaac's wife Kitty was a dower slave belonging to the Custis estate, she and their nine daughters and seven grandchildren remained enslaved. For 40 years, the Washington and Custis slaves had intermarried and had children. This meant that emancipation caused painful family separations. Washington scheduled the emancipation to follow his and Martha's deaths so that they would not have to witness the breakup of families. And unlike her husband, Martha never questioned whether slavery was wrong. She and George had spent years actively trying to recapture an enslaved maid who had escaped to Philadelphia.

She owned one man named Eilish outright, and she could have legally freed him, but instead left him to her grandson in her will. And it wouldn't be long before that document was read aloud. In the spring of 1802, Martha fell ill with a severe fever. She died on May 22, 1802, just days before her 71st birthday. She was laid to rest beside her husband in Mount Vernon. As America's first lady, Martha Washington had to create an entirely new role with no precedence to guide her. In the delicate early days of the Republic, she walked a tightrope,

establishing the prestige of the presidency while also maintaining access between the people and their president. Her commitment to duty became the model for all First Ladies who followed her. But the challenges she faced, from intense scrutiny to constraints on her privacy and freedom, also set a precedent for her successors. From Wondery, this is Episode 1 of our five-part series on America's First Ladies from American History Tellers. In the next episode, in Springfield, Illinois, Mary Todd meets a rustic lawyer and rising political star, beginning a courtship that propels her to the White House. As the Civil War rages, her stormy moods and extravagant spending draw a backlash.

If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. and Cat Peoples. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton, edited by Dorian Marina, produced by Alita Rozanski, coordinating producer Desi Blaylock, managing producer Matt Gant, senior managing producer Ryan Lohr, senior producer Andy Herman.

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