The next morning he has a sore throat; he has taken cold. The snow is still falling, but he will go out again. At night he is very hoarse; he is advised to take medicine.
"Oh, no," he answers, "you know I never take anything for a cold."
But in the night he grows much worse; early the next morning the doctor is brought. It is too late. He grows rapidly worse. He knows that the end is near.
"It is well," he says; and these are his last words.
Washington died on the 14th of December, 1799. He had lived nearly sixty-eight years.
His sudden death was a shock to the entire country. Every one felt as though he had lost a personal friend. The mourning for him was general and sincere.
In the Congress of the United States his funeral oration was pronounced by his friend, Henry Lee, who said:
"First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen, he was second to none in the humble and endearing scenes of private life. Pious, just, humane, temperate, uniform, dignified, and commanding, his example was edifying to all around him, as were the effects of that example lasting.
"Such was the man America has lost! Such was the man for whom our country mourns!"