You Never Forget Your First: A Biography of George Washington

by Alexis Coe

“Doctor, I die hard,” Washington said when Craik appeared at his bedside around 5 p.m. “But I am not afraid to go.” He thanked the rest of the doctors for their “attentions,” but he would have no more. “Let me go quietly,” he said, as all but Craik retired. “I cannot last long.” They tried to make him comfortable, applying wheat bran to his legs and feet, then attempted another round of blistering. Eventually, though, all but Craik left “without a ray of hope.” Over the next few hours, Washington rarely complained, though he often asked for the time. The bloodletting had continued, and by that point he had been drained of a few more pints of blood. By 10 p.m., Washington finally showed fear. “Do not let my body be put into the Vault in less than three days after I am dead,” he ordered Lear, perhaps doubting that he, after surviving so much, would actually die. Lear reported that he “bowed assent, for I could not speak.” “Do you understand me?” Washington asked. “Yes,” Lear managed. “’Tis well,” Washington said, and his hands went limp. Craik closed his eyes. Martha, standing at the foot of the bed, asked if he was gone. Then, according to Lear, she repeated, “’Tis well.”