Identifier: picturesquewas00moor (find matches)
Title: Picturesque Washington: pen and pencil sketches of its scenery, history, traditions, public and social life, with graphic descriptions of the Capitol and Congress, the White House, and the government departments ..
Year: 1884 (1880s)
Authors: Moore, Joseph West
Subjects: Washington (D.C.)
Publisher: Providence : J.A. & R.A. Reid
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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ad just arrived, fre-quently reading aloud to the lamily, in spite of his hoarseness. Abouttwo oclock the next morning he woke his wife, saying that he felt ill,but would not allow her to rise and attend to him for fear she shouldcatch a cold. At daybreak, w^hen the servant came into the chamber tobuild the fire, she was sent to arouse Mr. Lear, who immediately re-sponded to the call. Horses were saddled and servants dispatchedat once to Alexandria and Port Tobacco for physicians, as it was seenthat Washington was seriously ill. He was bled, and when the phy-sicians arrived they repeated the bleeding, and used their utmost skillto relieve him, but he lay in pain and distress all day, breathing withgreat difficulty, and scarcely able to speak at times. Toward nighthe said to his attendants: I feel myself going; I thank you foryour attentions, but I pray you take no more trouble about me.Let me go off quietly ; I cannot last long. Mr. Lear says: About ten oclock he said to me, I am fast
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THE HALL AT MOU^T VERKON. 294 PICTURESQUE WASHINGTON. going. Have me decently interred, but do not let my body be putinto the vault in less than three days after I am dead. I bowed as-sent. He then looked at me again and said : Do you understand?I replied, Yes. Tis well, said he. About ten minutes before heexpired (which was between ten and eleven oclock) his breathingbecame easier. He lay quietly ; he withdrew his hand from mineand felt his own pulse. I saw his countenance change. I spoke toDr. Craik, who sat by the fire. He came to the bedside. TheGenerals hand fell from his wrist. I took it in mine and pressed itto my bosom. Dr. Craik put his hands over his eyes, and he expiredwithout a struggle or a sigh. While we were fixed in silent grief, continues Mr. Lear, Mrs.Washington, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, asked with a firm,collected voice, Is he gone? I could not speak, but held up myhand as a signal that he was no more. Tis well, said she in thesame voice ; all is over

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