From Farm House to the White House - 912 Freedom Library

Farm House to the White House, by William M. Thayer 209
In December, 1799, there came a cold, bleak morning, with drizzling rain and sleet.
"I would not go out this uncomfortable day," Mrs. Washington said to her husband, observing that he was
preparing to go out to his daily task.
"It is not much of a storm," Washington replied. "Besides, I have a piece of work under way that I must
superintend."
"I fear that you will take cold," continued Mrs. Washington. "Sitting at the fire is more fitting for a man of
your age than exposing yourself in such a storm."
He went, however, nor returned until almost time for dinner. His locks were covered with snow and sleet, and
he was quite wet.
Mrs. Washington advised him to change his apparel, but he declined, saying:
"The wet is of little consequence. I shall soon be dry."
In the evening he read aloud to his family as usual although he was somewhat hoarse. The next day, the storm
was still more severe, and he remained within doors, complaining of a slight cold. Again he read aloud to his
family in the evening. This was on Friday, the thirteenth day of December.
On retiring, Mr. Lear, his private secretary, said to him:
"General, you had better take something for your cold."
"No," replied Washington; "you know that I never take anything for a cold. Let it go as it came."
About three o'clock in the morning he awoke with a chill, feeling very unwell. Still, he would not allow his
wife to get up, fearing that she might take cold. A servant came in to build a fire, when he sent for Mr.
Rawlins, an overseer, to bleed him, which, at that time, was a method of treatment universally adopted. The
overseer was accustomed to bleed negroes, but he hesitated to practise on Washington.
"I would not be bled; you need more strength instead of less," interposed his wife, but Washington had
confidence in the method. "Don't be afraid," he said to the overseer; "make the orifice large enough."
But he grew worse rapidly, and early in the morning Dr. Craik was sent for. Washington said to Mr. Lear, his
private secretary:
"I cannot last long. I feel that I am going. I believed from the first that the attack would prove fatal."
"I hope not," answered Mr. Lear, rather surprised by these words. "The doctor will give you relief, I trust,
when he arrives."
"Do you arrange and record all my military letters and papers; arrange my accounts and settle my books, as
you know more about them than any one else," Washington continued.
"That I will do," replied Mr. Lear; "but I hope you will live many years yet."
"Do you think of anything else it is essential for me to do? for I am confident that I shall continue but a very
short time with you," continued Washington.