His recreation he took chiefly in driving and riding. He never lost his liking for a good horse, and he knew what a good horse was. He had a servant who had been General Braddock’s servant, and had been with Washington ever since the battle of the Monongahela. Bishop, as he was named, was a terrible disciplinarian, and devoted to his master’s interests. At sunrise every day, he would go to the stables, where the boys had been at work since dawn grooming the General’s horses. Woe to them if they had been careless! Bishop marched in with a muslin handkerchief in his hand and passed it over the coats of the horses; if a single stain appeared on the muslin, the boy who groomed the horse had to take a thrashing. It was no light matter to groom a horse in those days, for, just as the heads of gentlemen were plastered and bewigged, so the horses were made to undergo what would seem to us now a rather absurd practice. The night before a horse was to be ridden, he was covered from head to foot with a paste made of whiting and other ingredients; then he was well wrapped in cloth and laid to sleep on clean straw. By the next morning the paste had hardened, and it was then vigorously rubbed in, and the horse curried and brushed. The result was a glossy and satiny coat. The hoofs were blackened and polished, the mouth washed, the teeth picked and cleaned, and the horse was then ready to be saddled and brought out. Mrs. Washington was a domestic, home-loving body, but a lady of great dignity and sweetness of disposition, who moved serenely by the side of her husband, receiving his guests in the same spirit. She never talked about politics, but was evenly courteous to every one. She was like her husband, too, in her exactness and her attention to little details of economy. While she was in the midst of her duties as President’s wife, she wrote to one of her family: “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 can not do as I like, I am obstinate and stay at home a great deal.” But her real heart was at Mount Vernon and in her household affairs. “I send to dear Maria,” she writes, “a piece of _chene_ to make her a frock, and a piece of muslin, which I hope is long enough for an apron for you. In exchange for it, I beg you will give me a worked muslin apron you have, like my gown that I made just before I left home, of worked muslin, as I wish to make a petticoat to my gown, of the two aprons.”