course, more difficult; a measure which would be extremely irksome to me to submit to, especially as it respects my accounts, which are yet in confusion; my earnest wish and desire being, when I quit the stage of human action, to leave all matters in such a situation as to give as little trouble as possible to those who will have the management of them hereafter.

"Under this view of my situation, which is far from being an agreeable one, and at times fills me with deep concern when I see so little prospect of complete extrication, I have written to the Secretary of War to be informed whether as my taking the field is contingent, and no pay or emolument will accrue to myself until thenI am at liberty to appoint my secretary immediately, who shall be allowed his pay and forage from the moment he joins me. If he answers in the affirmative, can you do this on these terms?"

Mr. Lear accepted the appointment of secretary, proceeded immediately to Mount Vernon, and remained with Washington till his decease.

With the aid of Mr. Lear, who was thoroughly conversant with his papers and accustomed to his methods of transacting business, he was enabled to keep up his old habit of riding over the estate, and superintending its culture, during the early hours of the day. "When he returned from his morning ride," which, he remarks in a letter to Mr. McHenry, "usually occupied him till it was time to dress for dinner," he generally found some newly arrived guests, perfect strangers to him, come, as they said, out of respect to him. They were always received courteously, but their number and their constant succession must have made serious inroads on the domestic quiet in which he so much delighted. "How different this," he

says in the same letter, "from having a few social friends at a cheerful board."

During the last two years of his life his domestic circle was small. Mrs. Washington, Miss Custis, and some others of his adopted children, and his old friend, Mr. Lear, were at Mount Vernon; and some of his visitors were such as he himself would have chosen. But the greater part of them were comparative strangers.

Distinguished persons sometimes came from Europe to visit him, and these were received with his usual hospitality. When they sought to draw him into conversation about his own actions, he changed the subject and made inquiries about Europe and its affairs. In his own house, although maintaining toward strangers great courtesy and amenity, he always avoided discussing on matters in which he himself had played the most conspicuous part. At home he was the plain, modest country gentleman he had been before the destinies of an army and an empire had been placed in his hands.

CHAPTER XIII.

LAST ILLNESS, DEATH, AND CHARACTER OF

WASHINGTON.

1799.

N Thursday, December 12, 1799, Washington rode

ON

out to superintend as usual the affairs of his estate. He left the house at 10 o'clock in the morning and did not return till 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Soon after he went out the weather became very inclement, rain, hail, and snow falling alternately, with a cold wind. When he came in his secretary and superintendent, Mr. Lear, handed him some letters to frank, but he declined sending them to the post-office that evening, remarking that the weather was too bad to send a servant with them. On Mr. Lear's observing that he was afraid he had got wet, he said, No, his great coat had kept him dry. Still his neck was wet and snow was hanging on his hair. But he made light of it, and sat down to dinner without changing his dress. In the evening he appeared as well as usual.*

A heavy snowstorm on Friday prevented his riding out. on the estate as usual. He had taken cold the day before by his long exposure, and he complained of a sore throat. This, however, did not prevent his going out in the afternoon to mark some trees not far from the house, which

* Our authority for the details of Washington's last illness and death is a statement carefully prepared by Mr. Lear at the time, and published from the original in Sparks' "Life of Washington." It is the most exact and reliable authority extant.

were to be cut down. He had now a hoarseness, which increased toward the close of the day. He spent the evening in the parlor with Mrs. Washington and Mr. Lear, perusing the newspapers, occasionally reading an interesting article aloud as well as his hoarseness would permit, and cheerful as usual. On his retiring, Mr. Lear proposed that he should take some remedy for his cold, but he answered "No, you know I never take anything for a cold. Let it go as it came."

Between 2 and 3 o'clock on Saturday morning he had an ague fit, but would not permit the family to be disturbed in their rest till daylight. He breathed with great difficulty and was hardly able to utter a word intelligibly. At his desire he was bled by Mr. Rawlins, one of the overseers. An attempt to take a simple remedy for a cold showed that he could not swallow a drop, but seemed convulsed and almost suffocated in his efforts. Dr. Craik, the family physician, was sent for and arrived about 9 o'clock, who put a blister on his throat, took some more blood from him and ordered a gargle of vinegar and sage tea, and inhalation of the fumes of vinegar and hot water. Two consulting physicians, Dr. Brown and Dr. Dick, were called in, who arrived about 3 o'clock, and after a consultation he was bled a third time. The patient could now swallow a little, and calomel and tartar emetic were administered without any effect.

About half past 4 o'clock he desired Mr. Lear to call Mrs. Washington to his bedside; when he requested her to bring from his desk two wills, and on receiving them, he gave her one, which he observed was useless as being superseded by the other, and desired her to burn it, which she did, and put the other into her closet.

"After this was done," says Mr. Lear, in concluding his touching narrative, "I returned to his bedside and took

his hand. He said to me: 'I find I am going. My breath cannot last long. I believed from the first that the disorder would prove fatal. Do you arrange and record all my late military letters and papers. Arrange my accounts and settle my books, as you know more about them than anyone else, and let Mr. Rawlins finish recording my other letters, which he has begun.' I told him this should be done. He then asked if I recollected anything which it was essential for him to do, as he had but a very short time to continue with us. I told him that I could recollect nothing which it was essential for him to do, but that I hoped he was not so near his end. He observed, smiling, that he certainly was, and that, as it was the debt we must all pay, he looked to the event with perfect resignation.

"In the course of the afternoon he appeared to be in great pain and distress, from the difficulty of breathing, and frequently changed his posture in the bed. On these occasions I lay upon the bed and endeavored to raise him and turn him with as much ease as possible. He appeared penetrated with gratitude for my attentions, and often said, 'I am afraid I shall fatigue you too much,' and upon assuring him that I could feel nothing but a wish to give him ease, he replied, 'Well, it is a debt we must pay to each other, and I hope when you want aid of this kind you will find it.'

"About 5 o'clock Dr. Craik came again into the room, and, upon going to the bedside, the general said to him, 'Doctor, I die hard, but I am not afraid to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I should not survive it. My breath cannot last long.' The doctor pressed his hand, but could not utter a word. He retired from the bedside and sat by the fire, absorbed in grief.

"Between 5 and 6 o'clock Dr. Craik, Dr. Dick, and Dr. Brown came again into the room, and with Dr. Craik went