"Nunc dimittis, Domine." ~ The last words of Thomas Jefferson, July 4, 1826

Detail from a portrait of an elderly Thomas Jefferson as painted by Thomas Sulley, 1821.

In a previous post, I examined some of the speculation about George Washington's death, and the curious legend that he had died having confessed himself to a Catholic priest. 

That has gone on to be the most popular post on this blog, garnering over 15,000 views to date. 

In the case of the death of Thomas Jefferson, there is considerably less cause for speculation. For one thing, Jefferson had been a Unitarian/Deist from his youth, and a consistent critic of Catholic beliefs and practices well into his years as a retired elder statesman. His correspondence indicated a disdain for the concept of the Trinity, an abhorrence for the priesthood, and belief that the early Church Fathers, including Saint Paul, had corrupted the teachings of Jesus. 

But anyone who studies Jefferson's life in detail knows that he is a deep old file: a brilliant mind, a gifted scholar, a diligent inventor, yes, but also a man whose shining parts did not extend to consistency in moral or religious beliefs. Many have noted with irony that the man who crafted the very sacred scripture of American liberty, the Declaration of Independence, was himself the master of several hundred bondsmen. The man who once described the teachings of Jesus as "the most sublime and benevolent code of morals which has ever been offered to man" was at the same time he said it very likely fathering children out of wedlock with a woman he owned. 

Jefferson had no love for the Catholic priesthood, particularly the Jesuits. Writing in 1816—two years after the Society of Jesus had had their suppression lifted by the Pope—Jefferson opined to John Adams: "I dislike, with you, their restoration; because it marks a retrograde step from light towards darkness." 

In another letter, he said the following to Horatio Spafford: 

"In every country and in every age, the priest has been hostile to liberty. He is always in alliance with the Despot abetting his abuses in return for protection to his own. It is easier to acquire wealth and power by this combination than by deserving them: and to effect this they have perverted the purest religion ever preached to man, into mystery & jargon unintelligible to all mankind & therefore the safer engine for their purposes." March 17, 1814.

Despite these condemnations, Jefferson maintained friendly relations with numerous Catholics, even bishops and priests, and was a staunch defender of their rights. While president in 1804, Jefferson wrote to a convent of Ursuline sisters in New Orleans, lately added to the United States as part of the Louisiana Purchase. Jefferson's letter, written in response to a query sent to him by the sisters, is remarkable for its deep tone of cordiality, almost humility:

I have received, holy sisters, the letter you have written me wherein you express anxiety for the property vested in your institution by the former governments of Louisiana. The principles of the constitution and government of the United States are a sure guarantee to you that it will be preserved to you sacred and inviolate, and that your institution will be permitted to govern itself according to its own voluntary rules, without interference from the civil authority....Be assured it will meet all the protection which my office can give it. I salute you, holy sisters, with friendship & respect. July 14, 1804.

Similarly, Jefferson wrote as president to the first Catholic bishop of the United States, John C. Carroll, in answer to a request made to him regarding the foundation of a Catholic Church in District of Columbia:

I have received at this place the application signed by yourself and several respectable inhabitants of Washington on the purchase of a site for a Roman Catholic church from the Commissioners. As the regulation of price rests very much with them, I have referred the paper to them, recommending to them all the favor which the object of the purchase would urge, the advantages of every kind which it would promise, and their duties permit. I shall be happy on this and on every other occasion of shewing my respect & concern for the religious society over which you preside in these states and in tendering to yourself assurances of my high esteem and consideration. September 3, 1801.

Portrait of Abbé Corrêa in Monticello.

Perhaps even more remarkable was Jefferson's relationship with fellow polymath, José Francisco Corrêa da Serra. Jefferson referred to Corrêa as his "dear friend," and their friendship spanned a number of years of Jefferson's later life. At one point, Jefferson invited Corrêa to reside at Monticello permanently—an offer that was politely declined, though to this day there is bedroom dedicated to him at Jefferson's mansion. Corrêa died in Portugal in 1823, and Jefferson would recall his friend in a letter written in April of 1826, shortly before his own death, as "a distinguished Savant of Europe...profoundly learned in several other branches of science, he was so, above all others, in that of Botany." Abbé Corrêa was an ordained Catholic priest, though perhaps not a particularly devout one. This excellent article at the American Philosophical Society website goes into greater detail about the Abbé Corrêa's life and works.

Given Jefferson's intimacy with a Catholic priest late in life, it is noteworthy to consider the last words of Mr. Jefferson, as recorded in B. L. Rayner's 1834 biography, Life of Thomas Jefferson: 

When the morning of that day came, he appeared to be thoroughly impressed that he should not live through it, and only expressed a desire that he might survive until mid-day. He seemed perfectly at ease, and ready to die. When the Doctor entered his room, he said, "Well, Doctor, you see I am here yet." 

His disorder being checked, a friend expressed a hope of amendment. His reply was, "that the powers of nature were too much exhausted to be rallied." 

To a member of his family who remarked that he was better, and that the Doctor thought so, he listened with evident impatience, and said, "Do not imagine for a moment that I feel the smallest solicitude as to the result." 

He then calmly gave directions for his funeral, forbidding all pomp and parade — being answered by a hope that it would be long ere the occasion would require their observance, he asked, with a smile, "Do you think I fear to die?" 

A few moments after, he called his family and friends around his bed side, and uttered distinctly the following sentence: "I have done for my country, and for all mankind, all that I could do, and I now resign my soul, without fear, to my God — my daughter to my country." 

These were the last words he articulated — his last solemn declaration to the world — his dying will and testament, bequeathing his most precious gifts, to his God and his country. All that was heard from him afterwards, was a hurried repetition, in indistinct and scarcely audible accents, of his favorite ejaculation, "Nunc Dimittas [sic], Domine — Nunc Dimittas [sic], Domine."

He sunk away imperceptibly, and breathed his last, without a struggle or a murmur, at ten minutes before one o'clock, on the great JUBILEE of American liberty — the day, and hour too, on which the Declaration of Independence received its final reading, and the day, and hour, on which he prayed to Heaven that he might be permitted to depart. [Rayner: Life of Thomas Jefferson, p. 428-429]

Why would Jefferson's last words be in Latin, lifted from the Canticle of Simeon [Luke 2:29] as found in the Vulgate of St. Jerome? And even more puzzling, this prophetic passage is specifically omitted from the famous "Jefferson Bible" which he created to expunge the miraculous accretions that he felt had corrupted the teachings of Jesus. I'm certainly not the first person to wonder at this. A somewhat later biographer from the 1850s found these words so incongruous in the mouth of the elderly Deist, that he put forward the conjecture that the phrase: "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace," had been uttered in English, not in Latin. [See Randall: The Life of Thomas Jefferson, p. 547, fn 2]. 

A later account from the doctor who attended Jefferson on his deathbed, Robley Dunglison, claimed that Jefferson never uttered the phrase at all: 

...He then asked “Is it the 4th?” to which I replied “It soon will be.” These were the last words I heard him utter. In Mr. [William] Wirt’s eulogy of him, it is said that he clasped his hands and said “Nunc dimittis” [“Now lettest thou depart”]. No such expression was heard by me; and if any other person had heard it, it would certainly have been communicated to me. [Radbill: An autobiographical ana of Robley Dunglison, MD, p. 36]

Dunglison's work cited above was prepared in 1852, a full 26 years after the death of Jefferson.

The work of William Wirt, which Dunglison cites above, was produced in October 1826—four months after Jefferson's death. Wirt's short account is contained within a longer eulogy of Jefferson and John Adams entitled: A Discourse on the lives and characters of Thomas Jefferson and John Adams: who both died on the Fourth of July, 1826:

When that day came, all that he was heard to whisper, was the repeated ejaculation "Nunc; Domine dimittas [sic]," Now, Lord, let thy servant depart in peace! And the prayer of the patriot was heard and answered. [Wirt: A Discourse on the Lives and Characters..., p. 66]

So how likely is it that Jefferson's last words were actually a Latin phrase from the Vulgate of St. Jerome? Fairly likely, I'd wager. Dr. Dunglison's late account certainly does not preclude the possibility. Furthermore, it should be pointed out that Jefferson used the phrase with some regularity in his correspondence prior to his death. Here are some examples:

• In a letter to Judge Spencer Roane, dated September 6, 1819, discussing the foundation of the University of Virginia:

"A severe illness the last year, and another from which I am just emerged, admonish me that repetitions may be expected, against which a declining frame cannot long bear up. I am anxious, therefore, to get our University so far advanced as may encourage the public to persevere to its final accomplishment. That secured, I shall sing my nunc demittas [sic]." 

• In a letter to Joseph C. Cabell, dated January 31, 1821, also regarding the foundation of the University of Virginia:

"Nature will not give you a second life wherein to atone for the omissions of this. pray then, dear and very dear Sir, do not think of deserting us; but view the sacrifices which seem to stand in your way, as the lesser duties, and such as ought to be postponed to this, the greatest of all. Continue with us in these holy labors, until, having seen their accomplishment, we may say with old Simeon ‘nunc dimittis, Domine.’"

• In a letter to General Andrew Jackson, dated December 18, 1823, again discussing the newly-founded University of Virginia: 

"Perhaps our University which you visited in it’s unfinished state when finished & furnished with it’s scientific popln, may tempt you to make a little stay with us. This will probably be by the close of the ensuing year, when it may appear to you worthy of encouraging the youth of your quarter as well as others to seek there the finishing complement of their education. I flatter myself it will assume a standing secondary to nothing in our country. If I live to see this I shall sing with cheerfulness the song of old Simeon’s nunc dimittis Domine."

So if nothing else, it seems abundantly clear that "Nunc dimittis, Domine," was, in fact, a favored expression of Jefferson as mentioned by Rayner in his 1834 biographical account. 

Given that the 1840s and 1850s were a period of intense disapproval of anything that smacked of popery, we should not be too surprised that men during that era strove to expunge any near approach to that egregious sin from the heroes of the American Founding.

In closing, let us recall the uncontested fact, also mentioned by Mr. Wirt, that both Thomas Jefferson and John Adams did indeed pass into eternity on the same day—July 4, 1826—exactly 50 years after the release of the Declaration of Independence.

This is easily one of the strangest coincidences of all of recorded history. 

Ben Franklin Nominates a Bishop ~ Catholicism and the Early American Republic

Click here to share this image on Facebook.

Most people know that the American Republic inherited from its mother country, Great Britain, an antipathy toward Catholicism. However, given that Catholic France had played such a vital role in assisting the American colonies to win their independence, it is perhaps not surprising that the years immediately following the American victory witnessed a softening of the traditional American aversion to "Popery".

During his long stay in France while acting as ambassador during the American Revolution, Benjamin Franklin seems to have become adept at moving in Catholic circles. Though a very public Freemason, an occasional abuser of "Popish" customs in his public writings, and an all-around worldly and sometimes vulgar fellow, Franklin seems to have mellowed later in life with regard to Catholicism and Christian morality. His embassy to Quebec in 1776 is sometimes cited as the genesis of this sentiment. While on this failed expedition, his health deteriorated and he was forced to return home in the company of one Rev. John Carroll.  No doubt, Dr. Franklin at least acquired an affection for Father Carroll at that time, if not for his religious beliefs.

Later, while nearing the end of his time in France after the successful conclusion of the Treaty of Paris, Franklin played a role in having his friend, Father John Carroll, named as the first Catholic bishop in formerly British America. Following is an interesting entry from Franklin's journal, detailing a conversation Franklin had with the Papal Nuncio, Archbishop Giuseppe Doria Pamphili, on the subject. Of particular note is Franklin's confusion with regard to how bishops are made and to whom they are beholden in terms of authority:

July 1st [1784].—The Pope’s Nuncio called, and acquainted me that the Pope had, on my recommendation, appointed Mr. John Carroll superior of the Catholic clergy in America, with many of the powers of a bishop; and that probably he would be made a bishop in partibus before the end of the year. He asked me which would be more convenient for him, to come to France, or go to St. Domingo, for ordination by another bishop, which was necessary. I mentioned Quebec as more convenient than either. He asked whether, as that was an English province, our government might not take offence at his going thither? I thought not, unless the ordination by that bishop should give him some authority over our bishop. He said, not in the least; that when our bishop was once ordained, he would be independent of the others, and even of the Pope; which I did not clearly understand. He said the Congregation de Propagandâ Fide had agreed to receive, and maintain and instruct, two young Americans in the languages and sciences at Rome (he had formerly told me that more would be educated gratis in France). He added they had written from America that there are twenty priests, but that they are not sufficient, as the new settlements near the Mississippi have need of some. 

Abp. Giuseppe Doria Pamphili

The Nuncio said we should find that the Catholics were not so intolerant as they had been represented; that the Inquisition in Rome had not now so much power as that in Spain; and that in Spain it was used chiefly as a prison of state. That the Congregation would have undertaken the education of more American youths, and may hereafter, but that at present they are overburdened, having some from all parts of the world. He spoke lightly of their New Bostonian convert Thayer’s conversion; that he had advised him not to go to America, but settle in France. That he wanted to go to convert his countrymen; but he knew nothing yet of his new religion himself, etc. [Source: The Works of Benjamin Franklin, Volume X]

It's worth noting that the "Thayer" mentioned above is John Thayer, a Congregationalist minister from Boston who converted to the Catholic faith in 1783 and was later ordained a priest. The Catholic Encyclopedia entry for Thayer mentions that he had attempted to dispute certain miracles which were wrought via the intercession of Blessed (later Saint) Benedict Joseph Labre and was later converted as a result. The full story may be found in his book, An Account of the Conversion of the Reverend John Thayer, formerly a Protestant minister of Boston.

It seems that Franklin's toleration of things Catholic survived the end of his tenure in France. On April 17, 1787, a date exactly three years before his death, Franklin wrote to two Catholic priests, the Abbés Chalut and Arnaud whom he had befriended while in Paris. From this short letter, we see Franklin echoing a common theme of that time that would have rung true with his correspondents as well--namely, that freedom can not exist without virtue:

Dear Friends,

Your reflections on our situation compared with that of many nations of Europe, are very sensible and just. Let me add, that only a virtuous people are capable of freedom. As nations become corrupt and vicious, they have more need of masters.

Our public affairs go on as well as can reasonably be expected after so great an overturning. We have had some disorders in different parts of the country, but we arrange them as they arise, and are daily mending and improving; so that I have no doubt but all will come right in time.

Yours, B Franklin

(Source: The Works of Benjamin Franklin, Volume 10) 

"Without morals a republic can not subsist." ~ Charles Carroll, the only Catholic Signatory of the Declaration of Independence

Click here to share this image on Facebook.

"Without morals a republic cannot subsist any length of time; they therefore who are decrying the Christian religion...are undermining the solid foundation of morals, the best security for the duration of free governments."
—Charles Carroll, the only Catholic signer of the Declaration of Independence

In anticipation of Independence Day, here is another quote in a continuing series on the Founding Fathers of the American Republic. This one, from Charles Carroll, demonstrates the commonly held view that the propagation of Christian concepts of morality is absolutely vital for the maintenance of liberty. This particular quote is taken from a letter of Charles Carroll, the only Catholic to sign the Declaration of Independence, as written to James McHenry on November 4, 1800.

Following is some context. In the letter, Carroll sounds a prophetic warning of the dangers posed by the rational atheism of revolutionary France which, far from enshrining liberty for the French people, instead served as a prelude to despotism:

"If the people of this country were united, it would have nothing to fear from foreign powers; but unhappily this is not the case; many of the opposers of ye present administration, I suspect want change of the federal constitution; if that should be altered, or weakened so as to be rendered a dead letter, it will not answer the purposes of its formation and will expire from mere inanity: other confederacies will start up & ye scene of ye Grecian States, after an interval of more than two thousand years, will be renewed on this continent, & some British or Buonaparte will melt the whole of them into one mass of despotism. 

"These events will be hastened by the pretended Philosophy of France: divine revelation has been scoffed at by the Philosophers of the present day, the immortality of the soul treated as the dreams of fools, or the invention of knaves, & death has been declared by public authority an eternal sleep: these opinions are gaining ground among us, & silently sapping the foundations of a religion the encouragement of ye good, the terror of evil doers, and the consolation of the poor, the miserable, and the distressed. Remove the hope and dread of future rewards & punishments, the most powerful restraint on wicked actions, & ye strongest inducement to virtuous ones is done away. Virtue may be said is its own reward; I believe it to be so and even in this life the only source of happiness; and this intimate & necessary connection between virtue & happiness here and between vice and misery is to my mind one of the surest pledges of happiness or misery in a future state of existence. 

"But how few practice virtue for its own reward! Some of happy disposition & temperament, calm reflecting men, exempt in a great degree from the turbulence of passions may be virtuous for virtue's sake: small, however, is the number who are guided by reason alone, & who can always subject their passions to its dictates? He, who can thus act, may be said to be virtuous; but reason is often inlisted on the side of the passions, or at best, when most wanted, is weakest — Hence the necessity of a superior motive for acting virtuously; now, what motive can be stronger than ye belief, founded on revelation, that a virtuous life will be rewarded by a happy immortality? 

"Without morals a republic cannot subsist any length of time. They therefore who are decrying the Christian religion, whose morality is so sublime & pure, who denounces against the wicked eternal misery, & insures to the good eternal happiness are undermining the solid foundation of morals, the best security for the duration of free governments.

"If there be force in this reasoning, what judgment ought we to form of our pretended republicans, who admire & applaud the proceedings of revolutionary France! 

"These declaimers in favor of freedom & equality act in such a questionable shape that I cannot help suspecting their sincerity." 

As to this last sentence, I have often asked myself this same question regarding those who profess to the common libertarian viewpoints—who find talk of virtue tedious, but never tire of demanding that the law be loosened as regards to common vices of the most destructive sort.

Click here to read Charles Carroll's whole letter in The Life and Correspondence of James McHenry, Secretary of War under Washington and Adams by Bernard Christian Steiner.

Samuel Adams on the Incompatibility of Liberty and Vice

Click here to share this image on Facebook.

"Neither the wisest constitution nor the wisest laws will secure the liberty and happiness of a people whose manners are universally corrupt."

~Samuel Adams, American patriot

As we run up to Independence Day, it is fitting to remember some sage advice from the American Founding Fathers, if for no other reason than to gauge how far we moderns have fallen from the ideals which motivated them, particularly in the realm of morals and virtue. While no one would argue that that the Founders were always paragons of Christian morality in their actions, it should be recognized, at least, that they understood the key role which public and private virtue plays in maintaining true liberty, and knew well that promotion or toleration of vice is supremely harmful to freedom.

The above quote is taken from an essay Samuel Adams wrote in The Advertiser in 1748. Following is the context of the quote which is particularly instructive:

"Neither the wisest constitution nor the wisest laws will secure the liberty and happiness of a people whose manners are universally corrupt. He therefore is the truest friend to the liberty of his country who tries most to promote its virtue, and who, so far as his power and influence extend, will not suffer a man to be chosen into any office of power and trust who is not a wise and virtuous man. 

"We must not conclude merely upon a man's haranguing upon liberty, and using the charming sound, that he is fit to be trusted with the liberties of his country. It is not unfrequent to hear men declaim loudly upon liberty, who, if we may judge by the whole tenor of their actions, mean nothing else by it but their own liberty — to oppress without control or the restraint of laws all who are poorer or weaker than themselves. It is not, I say, unfrequent to see such instances, though at the same time I esteem it a justice due to my country to say that it is not without shining examples of the contrary kind — examples of men of a distinguished attachment to this same liberty I have been describing; whom no hopes could draw, no terrors could drive, from steadily pursuing, in their sphere, the true interests of their country; whose fidelity has been tried in the nicest and tenderest manner, and has been ever firm and unshaken.

"The sum of all is, if we would most truly enjoy this gift of Heaven, let us become a virtuous people: then we shall both deserve and enjoy it. While, on the other hand, if we are universally vicious and debauched in our manners, though the form of our Constitution carries the face of the most exalted freedom, we shall in reality be the most abject slaves."

Though Adams was as least partially inspired by his study of Roman history for his sentiments above, his words echo those of Saint Paul who says in his epistle to the Romans:

"Know you not, that to whom you yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants you are whom you obey, whether it be of sin unto death, or of obedience unto justice?...For the wages of sin is death. But the grace of God, life everlasting, in Christ Jesus our Lord. [Romans 6:16-23]"

We would do well to heed these warnings from history, lest by becoming slaves to our passions, we become literal slaves to a corrupt and heavy-handed state as well.

Adams's essay quoted above may be found in Wells: The Life and Public Services of Samuel Adams, page 22.

Did George Washington die a Catholic?

Traditional portrait of Washington
praying at Valley Forge.

With the celebration of Presidents' Day, and George Washington's birthday just a few days away (February 22), I often recall a passage from a book I had read to my children several years ago entitled: Saint Katharine Drexel: Friend of the Oppressed. The author of this historical novel, Elizabeth Tarry, includes a scene in which the child Kate Drexel dreams about far away lands and her heroes, Saint Francis and George Washington:

More than once, she went to sleep whispering: "Let perpetual light shine upon George Washington. May his soul rest in peace." It was a practice she was to continue for the rest of her life. 

While I'm not sure if this anecdote falls into the historical or the fiction part of Tarry's work, I was intrigued to discover that more connections exist between Washington and Catholicism than I realized, including a story that he experienced a death-bed conversion to the Catholic faith.

Here are some points in favor of Washington's supposed affinity toward Catholicism, as recorded in the Irish Catholic Benevolent Union Journal of March 15, 1884:

1. He merited it by his virtues.
2. He had a picture of the Blessed Virgin.
3. He was acquainted with Catholics, had visited Catholic churches, and contributed to their erection.
4. Juba, his servant, declared that Washington, "befo' he eat, do dis way (making the sign of the cross). I dunno what it means but he always do it."



Painting of the Blessed Virgin at Mount Vernon.

5. Rev Francis Neale was called from Piscataway across the Potomac and stayed with General Washington four hours before he died. 

This last claim is especially intriguing. More detail of this story may be drawn from The American Catholic Historical Researches, Volumes 16-17, 1900, in an article examining Washington's supposed conversion to Catholicism, written 101 years after his death:

It has often been the subject of regretful remark among the good people who appreciated the pure and exalted character of Washington that he seemed to make no mention of religion in his last moments and make no preparation for the step into the awful eternity beyond this life. In this connection the writer recently came across a curious legend current among the colored people living for the past few generations along the Maryland and Virginia shores of the Potomac adjoining Mount Vernon...that George Washington on his deathbed was baptized a Catholic.

"Massa George," they say, "was a good man but he done gone back on when he died," and the story they tell is as follows:

The night before Washington died, during a fierce storm, his colored body servant came riding down to the bank of the Potomac and after being ferried across said he had come in search of a Catholic priest. After some delay, one of the old Jesuit Fathers from the mission on the Maryland side was found, taken over the river to Mount Vernon, where he went at once to Mr. Washington's room and remained there with him three hours. When he left he seemed much gratified and said to those about him that there need be no more apprehension for Mr. Washington as the future of his soul was secure. He was then taken back to the Maryland shore and old darkeys tell with unvarying detail that their fathers believed Washington died a Catholic....

In addition the Jesuit record says that on the day after the visit to Mount Vernon the old Jesuit went to the Superior of the mission and relating the fact of his journey, handed the Superior a sealed packet saying I am not permitted to detail what transpired between Mr. Washington and myself in his room at Mount Vernon but I have written it out carefully here and after we both have passed away and occasion requires this can be opened and its contents made public. The Superior took the paper and placed it among the records of the mission where it remained until shortly after the death of the old Jesuit when it was boxed up still unopened with a lot of other papers, and sent to headquarters of the Order in Rome where it is still supposed to be awaiting the fortunate chance that will disclose it to the hand of some appreciative investigator who may throw some light on this very curious historical question.

The story was apparently repeated in a somewhat altered form by Rev. John Scully, SJ in a homily he gave on Sunday, May 13, 1900 at Old Saint Joseph's Church in Philadelphia. The information provided by Fr. Scully is as follows:

Miss Oliva Floyd, whose mother was a Semmes, was a Confederate spy during the War of the Rebellion. She is now a cripple of perhaps seventy years. She remembers often hearing her mother who lived to be eighty six years old, and who died about thirty years ago, speak of the large boat rowed by six or eight men which came from Mt. Vernon to St. Thomas Manor the night before George Washington died. They bore a message to Father Leonard Neale then Superior of the residence at St. Thomas from Washington between whom and the priest there had long existed an intimate friendship. 

The rowers found Father Neale walking up and down the beach reciting the divine office. He immediately went up to the rectory whence he returned in a few minutes probably having provided himself with the priestly stole, the ritual, and some blessed water. He accompanied the boatmen and was detained at Mt. Vernon the greater part of the next day. It was said by all in the neighborhood that General Washington had sent for his old friend, Father Neale, to receive conditional baptism make his confession and be received into the Catholic Church. 

Miss Floyd's mother certainly had means of knowing the truth if this were so as Dr. Crown, (?) Washington's physician, was an intimate friend of the Floyds and the Semmes and had a room which was always kept ready for him in the Floyd mansion, which is only fourteen or fifteen miles from Mt. Vernon, where he slept on his return from and on his way to Mount Vernon.

It should be noted, however, that this information was deemed far from conclusive. Later in the same article, the author, Martin I. J. Griffin, relays his doubts about the authenticity of these stories:

"The Researches thinks the alleged visit of Father Neale improbable. Nothing in Washington's life gives a basis for a belief in its probability....I do not believe he became a Catholic."

Furthermore, as Marian T. Horvat, PhD points out in her post, "Did George Washington Convert to Catholicism?" the first president was a devoted Free Mason and often appeared in Masonic regalia during his life and tenure in office.

While these doubts alone are not sufficient to dispel the conversion story completely, there isn't enough information available to prove the story either. That said, we should probably follow Mother Drexel's lead and pray for the salvation of President Washington's soul. As Archbishop Carroll said in a circular letter to his clergy on the occasion of Washington's death:

"Roman Catholics, in common with our fellow-citizens of the United States, have to deplore the irreparable loss our country has sustained by the death of that great man who contributed so essentially to the establishment and preservation of its peace and prosperity. We are, therefore, called upon by every consideration of respect to his memory and gratitude for his services to bear a public testimony of our high sense of his worth when living and our sincere sorrow for being deprived of that protection which the United States derived from his wisdom, his experience, his reputation, and the authority of his name....[Those wishing to eulogize the President] are advised not to form their discourses on the model of a funeral sermon, deduced from a text of Scripture, but rather to compose an oration, such as might be delivered in an Academy....If these discourses shall be delivered in churches, where the Holy Sacrament is usually kept, it will be proper to remove it previously with due honor, to some decent place." [Archbishop Carroll's circular letter to his clergy, dated Dec. 29, 1799]

In other words, as father of our country, Washington deserved the type of tribute offered by Catholics to virtuous non-Catholics upon their demise. That remains the case today.

Curiously, several Popes would find occasion to pay tribute to Washington. In 1852, during the construction of the Washington monument, Pope Pius IX sent a stone from the Temple of Concord in Rome to be incorporated into the monument. Unfortunately, this so-called "Pope's Stone" would be stolen by anti-Catholic Know-Nothings and dumped into the Potomac, though stories claim that it was dredged up some 40 years later.

In his encyclical to the Catholic bishops of America of 1895 entitled Longinqua, Pope Leo XIII praised Washington as follows:

Precisely at the epoch when the American colonies, having, with Catholic aid, achieved liberty and independence, coalesced into a constitutional Republic the ecclesiastical hierarchy was happily established amongst you; and at the very time when the popular suffrage placed the great Washington at the helm of the Republic, the first bishop was set by apostolic authority over the American Church. The well-known friendship and familiar intercourse which subsisted between these two men seems to be an evidence that the United States ought to be conjoined in concord and amity with the Catholic Church.

Cardinal Pacelli at Mount Vernon in 1936.

On October 22, 1936, Eugenio Cardinal Pacelli visited Mount Vernon as part of a tour of the eastern United States. While there, he placed wreaths at the graves of George and Martha Washington. Later, after he became Pope Pius XII, he said the following in his encyclical, Sertum Laetitiae, written in 1939:

When Pope Pius VI gave you your first Bishop in the person of the American John Carroll and set him over the See of Baltimore, small and of slight importance was the Catholic population of your land. At that time, too, the condition of the United States was so perilous that its structure and its very political unity were threatened by grave crisis. Because of the long and exhausting war the public treasury was burdened with debt, industry languished and the citizenry wearied by misfortunes was split into contending parties. This ruinous and critical state of affairs was put aright by the celebrated George Washington, famed for his courage and keen intelligence. He was a close friend of the Bishop of Baltimore. Thus the Father of His Country and the pioneer pastor of the Church in that land so dear to Us, bound together by the ties of friendship and clasping, so to speak, each the other's hand, form a picture for their descendants, a lesson to all future generations, and a proof that reverence for the Faith of Christ is a holy and established principle of the American people, seeing that it is the foundation of morality and decency, consequently the source of prosperity and progress.

Again, of themselves, these tributes prove nothing regarding the religious status (or lack thereof) of President Washington at the time of his death. But it is amusing to consider the possibility that the Vatican knows a secret about him that the rest of the world does not.