"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 to the bed, when Dr. Craik asked him if he could sit up in the bed. He held out his hand and I raised him up. He then said to the physicians, 'I feel myself going; I thank you for your attentions, but I pray you to take no more trouble about me. Let me go off quietly. I cannot last long.' They found that all which had been done was without effect. He lay down again, and all retired except Dr. Craik. He continued in the same situation, uneasy and restless, but without complaining, frequently asking what hour it was. When I helped him to move at this time he did not speak, but looked at me with strong expressions of gratitude.
"About 8 o'clock the physicians came again into the room and applied blisters and cataplasms of wheat bran to his legs and feet, after which they went out, except Dr. Craik, without a ray of hope. I went out about this time and wrote a line to Mr. Law and Mr. Peter, requesting them to come with their wives (Mrs. Washington's granddaughters) as soon as possible to Mount Vernon.
"About 10 o'clock he made several attempts to speak to me before he could effect it. At length he said, 'I am just going. Have me decently buried, and do not let my body be put into the vault in less than three days after I am dead.' I bowed assent, for I could not speak. He then looked at me again and said, 'Do you understand me?' I replied, 'Yes.' 'Tis well,' said he.
"About ten minutes before he expired (which was between 10 and 11 o'clock) his breathing became easier. He lay quietly; he withdrew his hand from mine and felt his own pulse. I saw his countenance change. I spoke to Dr. Craik, who sat by the fire. He came to the bedside. The general's hand fell from his wrist. I took it in mine and pressed it to my bosom. Dr. Craik put his hands over his eyes, and he expired without a struggle or a sigh (December 14, 1799).
"While we were fixed in silent grief, Mrs. Washington, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, asked, with a firm and collected voice, 'Is he gone?' I could not speak, but held up my hand as a signal that he was no more. 'Tis well,' said she, in the same voice, 'all is over now. I shall soon follow him. I have no more trials to pass through.'
"During his whole illness," adds Mr. Lear, "he spoke but seldom, and with great difficulty and distress, and in so low and broken a voice as at times hardly to be understood. His patience, fortitude, and resignation never forsook him for a moment. In all his distress he uttered not a sigh nor a complaint, always endeavoring, from a sense of duty, as it appeared, to take what was offered him and to do as he was desired by the physicians."
By this simple and touching record of the last moments of Washington, it will be perceived that his conduct, in the last trying scene, was in all respects consistent with his whole life and character. His habitual serenity and self-command, and the ever-present sense of duty, are apparent through the whole. He died as he had lived, a hero in the highest sense of the word and a true Christian.
The deep and wide-spreading grief occasioned by this melancholy event assembled a great concourse of people for the purpose of paying the last tribute of respect to the first of Americans, and on Wednesday, the 18th of December, his body, attended by military honors, and with religious and Masonic ceremonies, was deposited in the family vault on his estate.