While in Philadelphia, Washington made time to dine with President Adams and attempted to mend fences, but Adams still reacted to Washington in a manner tinged with paranoia. He had come to feel that his cabinet officers were "puppets danced upon the wires of two jugglers behind the scene and these jugglers were Hamilton and Washington."93 One day in February 1799 Senator Theodore Sedgwick, a convinced Federalist, happened to ask Adams whether Washington would carry the t.i.tle of One day in February 1799 Senator Theodore Sedgwick, a convinced Federalist, happened to ask Adams whether Washington would carry the t.i.tle of General General in the new army. The mere question kindled an explosive retort from the president. "What, are you going to appoint him general over the president?" Adams sputtered, his voice throbbing. "I have not been so blind but I have seen a combined effect among those who call themselves the friends of government to annihilate the essential powers given by the president." in the new army. The mere question kindled an explosive retort from the president. "What, are you going to appoint him general over the president?" Adams sputtered, his voice throbbing. "I have not been so blind but I have seen a combined effect among those who call themselves the friends of government to annihilate the essential powers given by the president."94 The relationship between the first and second presidents never improved. The relationship between the first and second presidents never improved.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE.

A Mind on the Stretch BY 1798 the Federalist party had grown haughty by being too long in power. "When a party grows strong and feels its power, it becomes intoxicated, grows presumptuous and extravagant, and breaks to pieces," Johns Adams later wrote, having presided over just such a situation as president. As the political atmosphere became ever more combative, Federalist overreaching arrived at its apex with pa.s.sage of the Alien and Sedition Acts, which tried to squelch criticism of war measures that President Adams and his congressional allies had undertaken during the undeclared Quasi-War with France. Among other things, these repressive measures endowed the government with broad powers to deport foreign-born residents deemed a threat to the peace; brand as enemy aliens any citizens of a country at war with America; and prosecute those who published "false, scandalous, or malicious" writings against the U.S. government or Congress, with the intent of bringing them "into contempt or disrepute."1 This last act posed a special menace to civil liberties, since a largely Federalist judiciary would be pursuing Republican journalists. This last act posed a special menace to civil liberties, since a largely Federalist judiciary would be pursuing Republican journalists.

The Alien and Sedition Acts reflected a prevalent Federalist a.s.sumption, shared by Washington, that American "Jacobins" colluded with France in treasonous fashion. While these acts were enacted on Adams's watch, Washington lent them his quiet sympathy. Writing to a relative, he at first declined to comment on them, then observed that resident aliens had entered the country "for the express purpose of poisoning the minds of our people," thereby estranging "their affections from the government of their choice" and "endeavoring to dissolve the Union."2 On another occasion, he endorsed a Sedition Act prosecution of William Duane of the On another occasion, he endorsed a Sedition Act prosecution of William Duane of the Aurora Aurora, who had accused the Adams administration of being corrupted by the British government. Given the sheer number of lies that he thought were being peddled in the service of propaganda, Washington's dismay was understandable. At the same time, his support for censorship is disappointing given his exemplary record as president in tolerating even irresponsible press tirades against his administration. Washington often seemed blind to the perils of the Alien and Sedition Acts, arguing that Republican criticism was just another partisan maneuver to discredit the government and "disturb the public mind with their unfounded and ill-favored forebodings."3 Even as many Federalists hankered for war with France, President Adams, with typically feisty resolution, decided in early 1799 to essay diplomacy, sending William Vans Murray to negotiate peace with France and causing howls of outrage in his own party. Although Washington thought Talleyrand was merely toying with Adams, he sensed a political shift in the air. With his sound instincts, he suspected the Murray mission would undercut public support for military preparations, tempering his enthusiasm for the new army. With Hamilton h.e.l.l-bent on raising that army, Washington told him what he didn't want to hear: that the political political moment for its creation had pa.s.sed. Had it been mustered right after the XYZ uproar, he speculated, the timing would have been auspicious. But now "unless a material change takes place, our military theater affords but a gloomy prospect to those who are to perform the princ.i.p.al parts in the drama." moment for its creation had pa.s.sed. Had it been mustered right after the XYZ uproar, he speculated, the timing would have been auspicious. But now "unless a material change takes place, our military theater affords but a gloomy prospect to those who are to perform the princ.i.p.al parts in the drama."4 That spring, as Hamilton began recruiting for the new army in New England, he acknowledged to Washington that he had, at best, tepid support from President Adams. In the meantime he secretly meditated the use of the new army to suppress what he saw as traitorous Republican elements in the South. By May 1800 the new army would be disbanded, having long outlived its usefulness. That spring, as Hamilton began recruiting for the new army in New England, he acknowledged to Washington that he had, at best, tepid support from President Adams. In the meantime he secretly meditated the use of the new army to suppress what he saw as traitorous Republican elements in the South. By May 1800 the new army would be disbanded, having long outlived its usefulness.

In his final year George Washington inhabited a world dramatically different from the more halcyon visions he had foreseen for the country. The storybook ending might call for an elderly Washington to bask in the serene glow of wisdom. Instead he took to the warpath against the Jeffersonians with a vengeance. The nonpartisan dream enunciated in the farewell address had expired as the last vestiges of political civility disappeared. With Washington now a rabid booster of Federalist candidates, he applauded the election to Congress that spring of Henry Lee and John Marshall. He had wanted his lean, pale nephew Bushrod to run for Congress, but instead Adams appointed him to the Supreme Court. Washington's letters reverberated with partisan rhetoric as he admonished Bushrod against "any relaxation on the part of the Federalists. We are sure there will be none on that of the Republicans, as they have very erroneously called themselves."5 One area where his foresight had been infallible was in the creation of the federal district. The Residence Act had mandated that the city and its public buildings should be ready for occupancy no later than December 1800, but the project had been plagued by excessive costs, recurrent delays, and inept management. Washington feared further mishaps would scuttle the whole plan. In his last months as president, he had ordered the commissioners to suspend work on the President's House to focus their energies on the Capitol, the city's premier symbol. "The public mind is in a state of doubt, if not in despair, of having the princ.i.p.al building in readiness for Congress," he told the commissioners.6 During the summer of 1797 he had toured the fledgling city and thrilled to the sight of its rising buildings. The President's House and one wing of the Capitol stood ready to receive their roofs, while an "elegant bridge" had been thrown across the Potomac. 7 7 Where construction of the new capital had appealed to Washington's imagination, President Adams groaned under the unwanted burden. "The whole of this business is new to me," he complained, telling one commissioner that he would not "make himself a slave to the Federal City; that he would do what his official duty required of him Where construction of the new capital had appealed to Washington's imagination, President Adams groaned under the unwanted burden. "The whole of this business is new to me," he complained, telling one commissioner that he would not "make himself a slave to the Federal City; that he would do what his official duty required of him and no more and no more."8 Washington gladly stepped into the vacuum and even submitted his views on architectural details, as when he advised that the Senate chamber should feature Ionic columns. With a clear vision of how the city should function, he insisted that executive departments should be situated near the President's House to facilitate daily contact between department heads and the president. Washington gladly stepped into the vacuum and even submitted his views on architectural details, as when he advised that the Senate chamber should feature Ionic columns. With a clear vision of how the city should function, he insisted that executive departments should be situated near the President's House to facilitate daily contact between department heads and the president.

As proof of his unswerving commitment to the city, Washington purchased lots in various locations to avoid accusations of favoritism toward any section. After hearing criticism that the neighborhood near the Capitol would lack housing for congressmen, he bought adjoining parcels on North Capitol Street, between B and C streets, and constructed a pair of attached three-story brick houses designed by Dr. William Thornton. Boasting that they stood upon "a larger scale than any in the vicinity of the Capitol," he said they would be capable of housing "between twenty and thirty boarders"-an excellent example of Washington's take-charge spirit.

Much as its backers had intended, the new capital was a southern city that would be hospitable to slavery, and it continued to owe its existence to slave labor. Noting the arduous work involved in draining swampland, one commissioner admitted that the project "could not have [been] done without slaves."9 Five slave carpenters now labored over the President's House, and future presidents who lived there, starting with Jefferson, would enjoy the residence in undisturbed possession of their human property. When Julian Niemcewicz toured the Capitol in 1798, it pained him to see slaves hard at work: "I have seen them in large numbers, and I was very glad that these poor unfortunates earned eight to ten dollars per week. My joy was not long lived. I am told that they were not working for themselves; their masters hire them out and retain all the money for themselves. What humanity! What a country of liberty." Five slave carpenters now labored over the President's House, and future presidents who lived there, starting with Jefferson, would enjoy the residence in undisturbed possession of their human property. When Julian Niemcewicz toured the Capitol in 1798, it pained him to see slaves hard at work: "I have seen them in large numbers, and I was very glad that these poor unfortunates earned eight to ten dollars per week. My joy was not long lived. I am told that they were not working for themselves; their masters hire them out and retain all the money for themselves. What humanity! What a country of liberty."10 For many decades, Washington, D.C., would qualify as a work in progress. George Washington never lived to see John Adams occupy a still-unfinished, spa.r.s.ely furnished President's House. As he had feared, congressmen complained about the incomplete Capitol and inadequate lodgings, and the huge Capitol dome was completed only during the Civil War. For a long time the Capitol and President's House stood out as splendid but incongruous fragments in a still barren landscape; only later would the city expand to fill the s.p.a.cious contours of Washington's buoyant dream. For many decades, Washington, D.C., would qualify as a work in progress. George Washington never lived to see John Adams occupy a still-unfinished, spa.r.s.ely furnished President's House. As he had feared, congressmen complained about the incomplete Capitol and inadequate lodgings, and the huge Capitol dome was completed only during the Civil War. For a long time the Capitol and President's House stood out as splendid but incongruous fragments in a still barren landscape; only later would the city expand to fill the s.p.a.cious contours of Washington's buoyant dream.

DESPITE HIS CHILDLESS STATE, Washington had enjoyed a happy, abundant family life, having first stepchildren and then stepgrandchildren while also serving as guardian for numerous family orphans at Mount Vernon. After his sister, Betty, died, he had brought her son Lawrence, a childless widower, to Mount Vernon to aid with surplus visitors. Like most males, Lawrence fell instantly in love with Nelly Custis, only this time she reciprocated the attention, producing yet another union of the Washington and Custis clans. So that Nelly could marry at age twenty, Washington made official his position as her legal guardian, enabling him to sign the marriage license. In a tribute to Nelly's love for her adoptive grandfather, the wedding was celebrated by candlelight at Mount Vernon on February 22, 1799, Washington's sixty-seventh birthday. Deferring to the bride's wishes, Washington appeared in his old blue and buff wartime uniform. Martha "let all the servants come in to see" the wedding, one slave recalled, and gave them "such good things to eat" as part of the celebration.11 The newlyweds stayed on as Mount Vernon residents after Washington gave them the vast Dogue Run farm. The newlyweds stayed on as Mount Vernon residents after Washington gave them the vast Dogue Run farm.

Washington's history with Nelly's brother, Washy, remained problematic. Despite Washington's constant exhortations and the boy's eternal pledges to reform, the latter dropped out of Princeton, and in 1798 Washington enrolled him in the smaller St. John's College in Annapolis. "Mr. Custis possesses competent talents to fit him for any studies," Washington promised the school's president, "but they are counteracted by an indolence of mind, which renders it difficult to draw them into action."12 For Washington, who felt keen deprivation at having missed college, his grandson's apathy must have been frustrating. The boy was never less than affectionate or respectful to him, but like his father before him, he was simply incorrigible. For Washington, who felt keen deprivation at having missed college, his grandson's apathy must have been frustrating. The boy was never less than affectionate or respectful to him, but like his father before him, he was simply incorrigible.

When young Washington posed the question of whether he should not drop out of St. John's as well, the former president threw up his hands in despair: "The question . . . really astonishes me! for it would seem as if nothing nothing I could say to you made more than a I could say to you made more than a momentary momentary impression." impression."13 Bowing to the futility of pushing the boy any further, Washington had him tutored at Mount Vernon by Tobias Lear. When Washy then contemplated an inappropriate marriage, Washington tried to prevent it by getting him appointed to a cavalry troop. He ended up with a fatalistic att.i.tude toward his trying adopted grandson as someone who meant well but suffered from a congenital inability to make good on his pledges. Bowing to the futility of pushing the boy any further, Washington had him tutored at Mount Vernon by Tobias Lear. When Washy then contemplated an inappropriate marriage, Washington tried to prevent it by getting him appointed to a cavalry troop. He ended up with a fatalistic att.i.tude toward his trying adopted grandson as someone who meant well but suffered from a congenital inability to make good on his pledges.

A deeper source of discontent in Washington's last year was the continuing financial worries that preyed on his mind, reaching their nadir in the spring of 1799. Even when he rode off to Philadelphia in November 1798, cheered by the adulatory mult.i.tudes, he gnashed his teeth over his finances, bewailing that "nothing will answer my purposes like the money, of which I am in extreme want, and must must obtain on disadvantageous terms." obtain on disadvantageous terms."14 Never able to economize, he confessed that "I find it no easy matter to keep my expenditures within the limits of my receipts." Never able to economize, he confessed that "I find it no easy matter to keep my expenditures within the limits of my receipts."15 Another drought during the summer of 1799 ruined his oat crop, threatened his corn, and left his meadows barren, only aggravating his long-standing woes. Another drought during the summer of 1799 ruined his oat crop, threatened his corn, and left his meadows barren, only aggravating his long-standing woes.

With mounting desperation, he badgered people for overdue money and dished out tough lectures to deadbeats, telling one, in the tone of a surly bill collector, that "however you may have succeeded in imposing upon and deceiving others, you shall not practice the like game with me with impunity."16 While horrified at sending people to debtors' prison, he believed that he had no choice but to summon sheriffs to collect the money. For the first time in his life, he took recourse to bank loans, renewed at sixty-day intervals and set at what he termed "ruinous" interest rates. While horrified at sending people to debtors' prison, he believed that he had no choice but to summon sheriffs to collect the money. For the first time in his life, he took recourse to bank loans, renewed at sixty-day intervals and set at what he termed "ruinous" interest rates.17 His sales of western lands for emergency infusions of money scarcely kept pace with his insatiable demands for cash. His sales of western lands for emergency infusions of money scarcely kept pace with his insatiable demands for cash.

Two incidents underlined the gravity of his economic predicament. In October 1799 he decided to sell the houses he had built in the new capital-a terribly public blow to his pride as well as harmful to the project's hard-won image. That fall he also declined two months' salary as commander in chief. In thanking Secretary of War McHenry, Washington was frank about his embarra.s.sing predicament: "I shall not suffer false modesty to a.s.sert that my finances stand in no need of it."18 He complained of applicants for army appointments who came "with their servants and horses . . . to aid in the consumption of my forage and what to me is more valuable-my time." He complained of applicants for army appointments who came "with their servants and horses . . . to aid in the consumption of my forage and what to me is more valuable-my time."19 While public life forced Washington into expenditures beyond his control, during his entire adult life he had exhibited an inability to live within his means. While public life forced Washington into expenditures beyond his control, during his entire adult life he had exhibited an inability to live within his means.

Hard as it was for him to admit, he could no longer supervise alone his far-flung operations, whose inspection had always formed part of his daily routine. In March 1798 he hired a clerk, Albin Rawlins, whose duties went beyond keeping accounts and drafting letters. Even though Washington still strode around in blue overalls and mud-spattered boots and was every bit the master of Mount Vernon, for the first time he alluded to difficulty in riding his horse. As he told a relative, he had hired Rawlins, in part, because he now found it "impracticable to use the exercise (on horseback) which my health, business, and inclination requires."20 Washington had never made Mount Vernon the thriving productive enterprise he wanted. In his last months, he kept saying that the "first wish" of his heart was to simplify and contract operations and live "exempt from cares."21 To this end, he planned to rent out his mill, distillery, and fishery businesses and dispose of one of his farms. Three of the farms-River, Union, and Muddy Hole-he decided to manage himself, restoring their exhausted fields through the scientific crop rotation that had long tantalized his imagination. The simple truth was that he had spent too many years away from Mount Vernon ever to attain the modern, advanced plantation of his daydreams. Sadly, the date he set for the new dispensation that would free him from onerous managerial duties was New Year's Day 1800-a date he would not live to see. To this end, he planned to rent out his mill, distillery, and fishery businesses and dispose of one of his farms. Three of the farms-River, Union, and Muddy Hole-he decided to manage himself, restoring their exhausted fields through the scientific crop rotation that had long tantalized his imagination. The simple truth was that he had spent too many years away from Mount Vernon ever to attain the modern, advanced plantation of his daydreams. Sadly, the date he set for the new dispensation that would free him from onerous managerial duties was New Year's Day 1800-a date he would not live to see.

BY 1799 George Washington must have realized that the only respite he would ever get from politics resided in a peaceful afterlife. That June Jonathan Trumbull, Jr., reminding him of the pending presidential election, expressed the hope that if Washington's name were brought forward, "you will not disappoint the hopes and desires of the wise and good . . . by refusing to come forward once more to the relief . . . of your injured country."22 Trumbull spoke for many Federalists who worried that Adams was a weak candidate and were terrified that the Francophile Jefferson might emerge as the next president. In response, Washington talked like an unabashed Federalist, sarcastically deriding Republican sophistry: "Let that party set up a broomstick and call it a true son of liberty . . . and it will command their votes in toto!" Trumbull spoke for many Federalists who worried that Adams was a weak candidate and were terrified that the Francophile Jefferson might emerge as the next president. In response, Washington talked like an unabashed Federalist, sarcastically deriding Republican sophistry: "Let that party set up a broomstick and call it a true son of liberty . . . and it will command their votes in toto!"23 His pa.s.sionate words mocked the Jeffersonian myth that his mental powers were impaired, and he satirized the scuttleb.u.t.t that he had lapsed into "dotage and imbecility." His pa.s.sionate words mocked the Jeffersonian myth that his mental powers were impaired, and he satirized the scuttleb.u.t.t that he had lapsed into "dotage and imbecility."24 He declined Trumbull's request on political grounds, claiming that he could not draw a single new vote from the opposition. His personal reasons were far more cogent. Citing declining health, he said it would be "criminal therefore in me, although it should be the wish of my countrymen . . . to accept an office under this conviction." He declined Trumbull's request on political grounds, claiming that he could not draw a single new vote from the opposition. His personal reasons were far more cogent. Citing declining health, he said it would be "criminal therefore in me, although it should be the wish of my countrymen . . . to accept an office under this conviction."25 Dismayed that, since mid-March, President Adams had absented himself from the capital, staying at his home in Quincy, Washington said that Federalists were aggrieved at his behavior while Republicans "chuckle at and set it down as a favorable omen for themselves." Dismayed that, since mid-March, President Adams had absented himself from the capital, staying at his home in Quincy, Washington said that Federalists were aggrieved at his behavior while Republicans "chuckle at and set it down as a favorable omen for themselves."26 With his usual sense of courtesy, Washington thought it would be unbecoming for him to advise the president: "It has been suggested to me to make this communication, but I have declined it, conceiving that it would be better received from a private character-m[ore] in the habits of social intercourse and friendship." With his usual sense of courtesy, Washington thought it would be unbecoming for him to advise the president: "It has been suggested to me to make this communication, but I have declined it, conceiving that it would be better received from a private character-m[ore] in the habits of social intercourse and friendship."27 At the end of August Washington tossed cold water on Trumbull's entreaties a second time. He now sounded even more categorical that "no eye, no tongue, no thought may be turned towards me for the purpose alluded to therein."28 If he ran, he would only be battered with charges of "inconsistency, concealed ambition, dotage." If he ran, he would only be battered with charges of "inconsistency, concealed ambition, dotage."29 Having experienced more than enough venom for one lifetime, he did not care to expose himself further: "A mind that has been constantly on the stretch since the year 1753, with but short intervals and little relaxation, requires rest and composure. And I believe that nothing short of a serious invasion of our country . . . will ever draw me from my present retirement." Having experienced more than enough venom for one lifetime, he did not care to expose himself further: "A mind that has been constantly on the stretch since the year 1753, with but short intervals and little relaxation, requires rest and composure. And I believe that nothing short of a serious invasion of our country . . . will ever draw me from my present retirement."30 Thanks to the astute, if mercurial, diplomacy of John Adams, such an invasion never happened. When the president sent two envoys to France that October, without consulting his cabinet first, Washington was beset by serious doubts. "I was surprised at the measure, measure, how much more so at the manner of it?" he told Hamilton. "This business seems to have been commenced in an evil hour and under unfavorable auspices." how much more so at the manner of it?" he told Hamilton. "This business seems to have been commenced in an evil hour and under unfavorable auspices."31 But Washington proved wrong, and because of the administration's successful diplomacy in resolving differences with France, he never had to take the field with the new army. But Washington proved wrong, and because of the administration's successful diplomacy in resolving differences with France, he never had to take the field with the new army.

On November 10, 1799, McHenry warned Washington of burgeoning Republican strength in the upcoming campaign. For many Federalists, it foreshadowed a threat to the Const.i.tution and the still-fragile strength of the federal government. "I confess, I see more danger to the cause of order and good government at this moment than has at any time heretofore threatened the country," McHenry concluded.32 If Republicans saw the Federalists as threatening republican government, the Federalists saw themselves as upright custodians of the const.i.tutional order. Previously unaware of the opposition's strength, Washington claimed to be "stricken dumb" by McHenry's letter and replied that political trends seemed "to be moving by hasty strides to some awful crisis, but in what they will result that Being, who sees, foresees, and directs all things, alone can tell." If Republicans saw the Federalists as threatening republican government, the Federalists saw themselves as upright custodians of the const.i.tutional order. Previously unaware of the opposition's strength, Washington claimed to be "stricken dumb" by McHenry's letter and replied that political trends seemed "to be moving by hasty strides to some awful crisis, but in what they will result that Being, who sees, foresees, and directs all things, alone can tell."33 So only weeks before his death, Washington, for all his long-term faith in America's future, viewed its short-term prospects as fairly dismal. So only weeks before his death, Washington, for all his long-term faith in America's future, viewed its short-term prospects as fairly dismal.

On December 9 Gouverneur Morris added his voice to the Federalist chorus and made a last plea to lure Washington from retirement. The next president, he pointed out, would hold office in Washington, D.C. "Will you not, when the seat of government is in your neighborhood, enjoy more retirement as President of the United States than as General of the Army?"34 Making a shrewd pitch, Morris reviewed the way that each time Washington had returned reluctantly to the public stage, he had been catapulted to higher levels of glory: "If General Washington had not become [a] member of the [const.i.tutional] convention, he would have been considered only as the defender and not as the legislator of his country. And if the president of the convention had not become president of the United States, he would not have added the character of a statesman to those of a patriot and a hero." Making a shrewd pitch, Morris reviewed the way that each time Washington had returned reluctantly to the public stage, he had been catapulted to higher levels of glory: "If General Washington had not become [a] member of the [const.i.tutional] convention, he would have been considered only as the defender and not as the legislator of his country. And if the president of the convention had not become president of the United States, he would not have added the character of a statesman to those of a patriot and a hero."35 This clever, eloquent appeal went unanswered. This clever, eloquent appeal went unanswered.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX.

Freedom IT MAY SAY SOMETHING about the American blind spot toward slavery that some of the most affecting vignettes of slaves at Mount Vernon emanated from foreign visitors, while American visitors selectively edited them from the scene. In April 1797 Louis-Philippe, a young French aristocrat who would become the so-called citizen king of France, toured Mount Vernon and showed commendable curiosity about the slaves' condition. They were well aware, he learned, of abolitionist clubs in Alexandria and Georgetown and the violent slave uprising in St. Domingue, making them hopeful that "they would no longer be slaves in ten years."1 No less fascinating was the Frenchman's observation that many house servants were mulattoes and that some looked strikingly white. Because Washington was often away from Mount Vernon and seemingly could not have children of his own, suspicion has never settled on him as having sired biracial children, except for the questionable case of West Ford mentioned earlier. No less fascinating was the Frenchman's observation that many house servants were mulattoes and that some looked strikingly white. Because Washington was often away from Mount Vernon and seemingly could not have children of his own, suspicion has never settled on him as having sired biracial children, except for the questionable case of West Ford mentioned earlier.

When Julian Niemcewicz visited Virginia in June 1798, he played billiards with Washington and enjoyed conversing with Martha, who "loves to talk and talks very well about times past."2 He rated Washington as a relatively benevolent slave master: "G[enera]l Washington treats his slaves far more humanely than do his fellow citizens of Virginia. Most of these gentlemen give to their blacks only bread, water, and blows." He rated Washington as a relatively benevolent slave master: "G[enera]l Washington treats his slaves far more humanely than do his fellow citizens of Virginia. Most of these gentlemen give to their blacks only bread, water, and blows."3 In some respects, Niemcewicz left an absurdly rosy picture of slave existence: "Either from habit, or from natural humor disposed to gaiety, I have never seen the blacks sad." In some respects, Niemcewicz left an absurdly rosy picture of slave existence: "Either from habit, or from natural humor disposed to gaiety, I have never seen the blacks sad."4 One recurring theme he overheard was far more accurate: that slavery was not only cruel but unprofitable. Estate manager James Anderson estimated that only one hundred of the more than three hundred slaves actually worked, while Washington hypothesized that, from a purely economic standpoint, his farms held twice as many slaves as needed. The growing number of slave children and elderly slaves meant more mouths to feed and fewer able-bodied hands. Dr. David Stuart, the husband of Jacky Custis's widow, flatly a.s.serted that it simply did not pay to own slaves: "Their support costs a great deal; their work is worth little if they are not whipped; the [overseer] costs a great deal and steals into the bargain. We would all agree to free these people, but how to do it with such a great number?" One recurring theme he overheard was far more accurate: that slavery was not only cruel but unprofitable. Estate manager James Anderson estimated that only one hundred of the more than three hundred slaves actually worked, while Washington hypothesized that, from a purely economic standpoint, his farms held twice as many slaves as needed. The growing number of slave children and elderly slaves meant more mouths to feed and fewer able-bodied hands. Dr. David Stuart, the husband of Jacky Custis's widow, flatly a.s.serted that it simply did not pay to own slaves: "Their support costs a great deal; their work is worth little if they are not whipped; the [overseer] costs a great deal and steals into the bargain. We would all agree to free these people, but how to do it with such a great number?"5 As it happened, George Washington, closeted in his study, was devoting considerable time to answering this most insoluble of questions. He saw, with some clairvoyance, that slavery threatened the American union to which he had so n.o.bly consecrated his life. "I can clearly foresee," he predicted to an English visitor, "that nothing but the rooting out of slavery can perpetuate the existence of our union, by consolidating it in a common bond of principle."6 Beyond moral objections to slavery, he had wearied of its immense practical difficulties. In September 1798 he regretted that his slaves were "growing more and more insolent and difficult to govern," and he seemed to want to be free of the sheer unpleasantness of keeping so many human beings in bondage. Beyond moral objections to slavery, he had wearied of its immense practical difficulties. In September 1798 he regretted that his slaves were "growing more and more insolent and difficult to govern," and he seemed to want to be free of the sheer unpleasantness of keeping so many human beings in bondage.7 Because of natural increase since 1786, the Mount Vernon slave population had soared from 216 to 317, of whom Washington owned outright 124, with 40 rented from a neighbor, Penelope Manley French. The remaining 153 dower slaves, who belonged to the Custis estate, would be inherited by her grandson after Martha died. Writing to Robert Lewis on August 17, 1799, Washington reflected on the baffling conundrum posed by the excess slaves: "To sell the overplus [of slaves] I cannot, because I am principled against this kind of traffic in the human species. To hire them out is almost as bad because . . . to disperse the families I have an aversion. What then is to be done? Something must or I shall be ruined."8 He possessed "a thorough conviction that half the workers I keep on this estate would render me a greater He possessed "a thorough conviction that half the workers I keep on this estate would render me a greater net net profit than I profit than I now now derive from the whole." derive from the whole."9 That he owned fewer than half the slaves himself perhaps set the stage for the most courageous action of his career. If he emanc.i.p.ated his own slaves in his will, he would satisfy his conscience, set a sterling example for futurity, and still leave a viable plantation behind. In 1799 a convenient convergence of economic and moral factors enabled Washington to settle the issue that had so long gnawed at his mind. That he owned fewer than half the slaves himself perhaps set the stage for the most courageous action of his career. If he emanc.i.p.ated his own slaves in his will, he would satisfy his conscience, set a sterling example for futurity, and still leave a viable plantation behind. In 1799 a convenient convergence of economic and moral factors enabled Washington to settle the issue that had so long gnawed at his mind.

George and Martha Washington had to perceive that their smartest slaves and those in highest standing were most likely to escape, Hercules and Ona Judge being prime recent examples. In early 1798 a slave called Caesar, in his late forties and able to read and write, ran away. Partial to black-and-white clothing, he had functioned as a self-appointed preacher among Mount Vernon's slaves. In a runaway slave notice inserted in the newspaper, Washington offered a reward for Caesar's arrest and attested that he had fled "without having received any correction, or threats of punishment, or, in short, without any cause whatever."10 The escape formed part of a now-familiar pattern: seemingly docile slaves quietly bided their time, called no attention to themselves, then suddenly fled when the moment was propitious. The escape formed part of a now-familiar pattern: seemingly docile slaves quietly bided their time, called no attention to themselves, then suddenly fled when the moment was propitious.

After Billy Lee was crippled, Washington had turned to a young slave, Christopher Sheels, as his body servant. After Washington stepped down as president, Sheels had been bitten by a rabid dog. Washington valued him so highly that he sent him back to Pennsylvania for treatment, informing the doctor there that "besides the call of humanity, I am particularly anxious for his cure, he being my own body servant."11 When Sheels asked Washington for permission to marry a mulatto slave on another plantation, Washington blessed the match, even though it opened up fresh temptations for Sheels to escape. In September 1799 Washington discovered that Sheels indeed intended to flee with his bride aboard a ship. Although Washington must have reprimanded him, there is no evidence that he punished him. The incident surely made him question anew the wisdom of owning human beings who naturally yearned to be free, no matter how well treated. Over the previous four decades, at least forty-seven slaves belonging to George and Martha Washington had made a brave dash for freedom. When Sheels asked Washington for permission to marry a mulatto slave on another plantation, Washington blessed the match, even though it opened up fresh temptations for Sheels to escape. In September 1799 Washington discovered that Sheels indeed intended to flee with his bride aboard a ship. Although Washington must have reprimanded him, there is no evidence that he punished him. The incident surely made him question anew the wisdom of owning human beings who naturally yearned to be free, no matter how well treated. Over the previous four decades, at least forty-seven slaves belonging to George and Martha Washington had made a brave dash for freedom.12 Always a methodical, well-organized man, George Washington experienced the "greatest anxiety" about leaving his affairs in order after he died. No less than in life, he craved the world's posthumous approval and was eager "that no reproach may attach itself to me when I have taken my departure for the land of spirits."13 In early July 1799 he summoned up the courage, in the seclusion of his study, to draft a remarkable new will. He did not use a lawyer and laboriously wrote out the twenty-nine pages in his own handwriting, disclosing his plans to n.o.body. In the text, he mentioned that "no professional character has been consulted," observed that it had taken many "leisure hours to digest" the doc.u.ment, and hoped it wouldn't "appear crude and incorrect"-an odd apology for an ex-president, harking back one last time to his insufficient education. In early July 1799 he summoned up the courage, in the seclusion of his study, to draft a remarkable new will. He did not use a lawyer and laboriously wrote out the twenty-nine pages in his own handwriting, disclosing his plans to n.o.body. In the text, he mentioned that "no professional character has been consulted," observed that it had taken many "leisure hours to digest" the doc.u.ment, and hoped it wouldn't "appear crude and incorrect"-an odd apology for an ex-president, harking back one last time to his insufficient education.14 Everything was spelled out with painstaking precision, including an inventory that listed 51,000 acres of land. Everything was spelled out with painstaking precision, including an inventory that listed 51,000 acres of land.

In a comprehensive catalog of his slaves, Washington divided them by farms and jotted down their names and ages. These statistics offered dramatic proof that, without prompt remedial action, his slave population would burgeon. Of the 277 slaves he and Martha controlled, no fewer than 98 were under the age of twelve. The trickiest issue he faced was strikingly evident: 90 slaves were reported as married. Many of Washington's slaves had married Martha's dower slaves or else slaves at nearby plantations.

The portions of the will relating to the slaves stand out as written with special vigor. At the outset, Washington referred to Martha as "my dearly beloved wife" and gave her the use of his whole estate.15 He made clear that he did not want to deprive her of income generated by the slaves as long as she lived: "Upon the decease [of] my wife, it is my will and desire th[at] all the slaves which I hold in [my] He made clear that he did not want to deprive her of income generated by the slaves as long as she lived: "Upon the decease [of] my wife, it is my will and desire th[at] all the slaves which I hold in [my] own right own right shall receive their free[dom]." shall receive their free[dom]."16 While he had "earnestly wished" to free them upon his own death, that would entail breaking up marriages between his own slaves and dower slaves, provoking "the most painful sensations, if not disagreeable consequences." While he had "earnestly wished" to free them upon his own death, that would entail breaking up marriages between his own slaves and dower slaves, provoking "the most painful sensations, if not disagreeable consequences."17 Of course, waiting to free the slaves he owned until Martha died only postponed the problem instead of solving it. (Martha could not free the dower slaves, who were committed to the Custis heirs.) Mindful of the young and elderly slaves who might have difficulty coping with sudden freedom, Washington made special provision that they "shall be comfortably clothed and fed by my heirs while they live." Of course, waiting to free the slaves he owned until Martha died only postponed the problem instead of solving it. (Martha could not free the dower slaves, who were committed to the Custis heirs.) Mindful of the young and elderly slaves who might have difficulty coping with sudden freedom, Washington made special provision that they "shall be comfortably clothed and fed by my heirs while they live."18 At a time when black education was feared as a threat to white supremacy, Washington ordered that the young slaves, before being freed, should " be taught to read and write and to be brought up to some useful occupation." At a time when black education was feared as a threat to white supremacy, Washington ordered that the young slaves, before being freed, should " be taught to read and write and to be brought up to some useful occupation."19 He also provided a fund to care for slaves too sick or aged to enjoy the sudden fruits of freedom. Unlike Jefferson, Washington did not wish to banish free blacks from Virginia and made no mention of colonizing them elsewhere, as if he foresaw them becoming part of a racially mixed community. Nor did he express fear of racial intermingling once his slaves were emanc.i.p.ated. He must have had a premonition that Martha or other family members would water down or bypa.s.s these daring instructions, so he expressly said that they should be "religiously fulfilled" by the executors. He also provided a fund to care for slaves too sick or aged to enjoy the sudden fruits of freedom. Unlike Jefferson, Washington did not wish to banish free blacks from Virginia and made no mention of colonizing them elsewhere, as if he foresaw them becoming part of a racially mixed community. Nor did he express fear of racial intermingling once his slaves were emanc.i.p.ated. He must have had a premonition that Martha or other family members would water down or bypa.s.s these daring instructions, so he expressly said that they should be "religiously fulfilled" by the executors.20 Singled out for special treatment was Billy Lee, who had earned an honored place in the annals of Washington's life. Now incapacitated by his knee troubles, he worked as a shoemaker at the Mansion House farm. Washington directed that "my mulatto man William (calling himself William Lee) I give immediate freedom; or, if he should prefer it (on account of the accidents which have befallen him and which have rendered him incapable of walking or of any active employment) to remain in the situation he now is, shall be optional in him to do so. In either case, I allow him an annuity of thirty dollars during his natural life" beyond the food and clothing he already received. Washington gratefully acknowledged "his attachment to me and . . . his faithful services during the Revolutionary War."21 By freeing his slaves, Washington accomplished something more glorious than any battlefield victory as a general or legislative act as a president. He did what no other founding father dared to do, although all proclaimed a theoretical revulsion at slavery. He brought the American experience that much closer to the ideals of the American Revolution and brought his own behavior in line with his troubled conscience. On slave plantations, the death of a master usually unleashed a mood of terror as slaves contemplated being sold to other masters or possibly severed from their families. Now Washington reversed the usual situation, relieving the dread and making the death of the master and mistress an occasion for general rejoicing among the slaves-at least if one set aside the th.o.r.n.y complexities of the intermingling through marriage of Washington's slaves and Martha's dower slaves.

In another visionary section of the will, Washington left money to advance the founding of a university in the District of Columbia, possibly under government auspices, where students could observe government firsthand and shed their "local attachments and state prejudices."22 This phrase was more than a mere restatement of Washington's nationalism: it spoke to the way his own life had transcended his parochial background. Back in 1785 Washington had been fl.u.s.tered and embarra.s.sed when the state of Virginia granted him shares in the Potomac and James River companies, and he had accepted them only with the proviso that they would be dedicated to public uses. Now he pledged his fifty shares of the Potomac River Company to the new university in the capital and his hundred shares of the James River Company to Liberty Hall Academy in western Virginia, which later became Washington and Lee University. He also left twenty shares in the Bank of Alexandria for a school, a.s.sociated with the Alexandria Academy, to educate orphaned and indigent children. This phrase was more than a mere restatement of Washington's nationalism: it spoke to the way his own life had transcended his parochial background. Back in 1785 Washington had been fl.u.s.tered and embarra.s.sed when the state of Virginia granted him shares in the Potomac and James River companies, and he had accepted them only with the proviso that they would be dedicated to public uses. Now he pledged his fifty shares of the Potomac River Company to the new university in the capital and his hundred shares of the James River Company to Liberty Hall Academy in western Virginia, which later became Washington and Lee University. He also left twenty shares in the Bank of Alexandria for a school, a.s.sociated with the Alexandria Academy, to educate orphaned and indigent children.

In a demonstration of his humility, Washington did not seek to preserve Mount Vernon as a monument to his career; rather he planned to dismantle the estate he had spent a lifetime a.s.sembling, dividing it among relatives after Martha's death. A thoroughgoing family man, he included more than fifty relatives in his will. His nephew Bushrod Washington would receive the coveted Mansion House and surrounding four thousand acres of farm. In part, Washington wished to repay a debt to Bushrod's father, who had managed Mount Vernon while he fought in the French and Indian War. Washington may also have believed that Bushrod, as a Supreme Court justice, needed a suitably high-toned place for entertaining dignitaries. He also demonstrated his faith in his nephew by leaving him a prized possession: the civil and military papers that he had tended with such a.s.siduous care. Washington remarked that, once he realized he would not have children of his own, he had decided to consider Martha's grandchildren "as I do my own relations and to act a friendly part by them."23 This was especially true of Nelly and Washy. That fall Lawrence and Nelly Lewis had already received the two-thousand-acre farm at Dogue Run, while George Washington Parke Custis got twelve hundred acres in Alexandria and an entire square that Washington owned in the new capital. The two orphaned sons of George Augustine Washington split another two-thousand-acre farm. This was especially true of Nelly and Washy. That fall Lawrence and Nelly Lewis had already received the two-thousand-acre farm at Dogue Run, while George Washington Parke Custis got twelve hundred acres in Alexandria and an entire square that Washington owned in the new capital. The two orphaned sons of George Augustine Washington split another two-thousand-acre farm.

A story, likely apocryphal, is told that one morning that September Washington awoke from a disturbing dream, which he narrated to Martha. An angel had appeared to him in a sudden burst of light and stood whispering in Martha's ear. Martha then became pale and began to fade from sight altogether, leaving Washington feeling alone and desolate. According to lore, he interpreted this dream as a premonition of his own death and was oppressed for days by its lingering memory. Whatever the veracity of this story, it expressed a truth about the mortality-laden mood of the Washington household that fall. For nearly two months in September and October Martha tried to shake a fever that produced "uneasy and restless symptoms" and resulted in at least one midnight summons to Dr. Craik.24 No less stoical than her husband and sharing his philosophy of minimal medication, she at first refused to take any remedy that might moderate the fever, but she recovered by late October. No less stoical than her husband and sharing his philosophy of minimal medication, she at first refused to take any remedy that might moderate the fever, but she recovered by late October.

On September 20, while she was sick, Washington absorbed the additional bad news that the last of his siblings, his younger brother Charles, had died. "I was the first first, and am now the last last, of my father's children by the second marriage who remain," he remarked. "When I shall be called upon to follow them is known only to the giver of life."25 In late November Martha's younger sister Elizabeth Henley also died, meaning that she had outlived all seven of In late November Martha's younger sister Elizabeth Henley also died, meaning that she had outlived all seven of her her siblings. George and Martha Washington must have felt that their remaining time was brief and that their accomplishments already belonged to history. siblings. George and Martha Washington must have felt that their remaining time was brief and that their accomplishments already belonged to history.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN.

Homecoming AFTER LEAVING THE PRESIDENCY, Washington had sworn a whimsical pledge to friends that he would not "quit the theater of this this world before the year 1800," and it looked as if he might deliver on his half-humorous resolve to finish out the century. world before the year 1800," and it looked as if he might deliver on his half-humorous resolve to finish out the century.1 When Elizabeth Carrington socialized with the Washingtons that fall, she found them in good spirits, with Martha looking "venerable, kind and plain." When Elizabeth Carrington socialized with the Washingtons that fall, she found them in good spirits, with Martha looking "venerable, kind and plain."2 Though increasingly deaf, the ex-president was in a convivial mood and happy to relive the glories of yesteryear, staying up past midnight to spin out wartime narratives. On December 9 he bade nephew Howell Lewis a memorable farewell at the door of Mount Vernon. "It was a bright, frosty morning," Howell recalled, "and . . . the clear, healthy flush of [Washington's] cheek and his sprightly manner brought the remark . . . that we had never seen the General look so well." Though increasingly deaf, the ex-president was in a convivial mood and happy to relive the glories of yesteryear, staying up past midnight to spin out wartime narratives. On December 9 he bade nephew Howell Lewis a memorable farewell at the door of Mount Vernon. "It was a bright, frosty morning," Howell recalled, "and . . . the clear, healthy flush of [Washington's] cheek and his sprightly manner brought the remark . . . that we had never seen the General look so well."3 Resigned to the close of his political career, Washington remarked in November that, with the ship of state now afloat, he was content to be "a pa.s.senger only" and would "trust to the mariners, whose duty it is to watch, to steer it into a safe port."4 On December 12, he composed a last letter to Hamilton, applauding his plan for an American military academy. In a fitting finale to a patriotic life, he endorsed the concept wholeheartedly: "The establishment of an inst.i.tution of this kind . . . has ever been considered by me as an object of primary importance to this country." On December 12, he composed a last letter to Hamilton, applauding his plan for an American military academy. In a fitting finale to a patriotic life, he endorsed the concept wholeheartedly: "The establishment of an inst.i.tution of this kind . . . has ever been considered by me as an object of primary importance to this country."5 This was the last political letter that flowed from his prolific pen. This was the last political letter that flowed from his prolific pen.

From his earliest days, Washington had led an outdoors life, trusting to his body's recuperative powers and suffering poor health early in his presidency when he became too sedentary. Perhaps, as one relative later reflected, he had relied too much on his health and "exposed himself without common caution to the heat in summer and cold in winter."6 In late November, renewing his old surveying skills, he spent three days running property lines in northern Fairfax County. This heedless behavior-if such it was-might have proved his undoing. On the other hand, had he not spent his whole life defying fate, bullets, the British Empire, and the elements? In late November, renewing his old surveying skills, he spent three days running property lines in northern Fairfax County. This heedless behavior-if such it was-might have proved his undoing. On the other hand, had he not spent his whole life defying fate, bullets, the British Empire, and the elements?

On Thursday, December 12, Washington brushed aside inclement weather to make a full five-hour tour of his farms on horseback. His diary entry told of the dreadful weather: "About 1 o'clock, it began to snow-soon after to hail and then turned to a settled, cold rain."7 When he arrived home for the midday meal, his nape was slick with rain, his hair matted with snow. With customary courtesy, the sodden host did not wish to keep his guests waiting and sat down to eat without changing his damp clothes. The next day the snow fell even harder, piling up three inches deep on the ground. Despite a sore throat, Washington trudged down the hill toward the Potomac in the late afternoon light. Still determined to perfect Mount Vernon, he planned a gravel walk and fishpond by the river and now marked out trees that he wanted cut down to improve the landscape. In a final letter to James Anderson, he carped about the filthy cattle stalls at one farm: "Such a pen as I saw yesterday at Union Farm would, if the cattle were kept in it one week, destroy the whole of them." When he arrived home for the midday meal, his nape was slick with rain, his hair matted with snow. With customary courtesy, the sodden host did not wish to keep his guests waiting and sat down to eat without changing his damp clothes. The next day the snow fell even harder, piling up three inches deep on the ground. Despite a sore throat, Washington trudged down the hill toward the Potomac in the late afternoon light. Still determined to perfect Mount Vernon, he planned a gravel walk and fishpond by the river and now marked out trees that he wanted cut down to improve the landscape. In a final letter to James Anderson, he carped about the filthy cattle stalls at one farm: "Such a pen as I saw yesterday at Union Farm would, if the cattle were kept in it one week, destroy the whole of them."8 It was apt that, in this valedictory letter, Washington came across as the same old exacting, hypercritical boss. It was apt that, in this valedictory letter, Washington came across as the same old exacting, hypercritical boss.

Although he experienced hoa.r.s.eness and chest congestion that evening, Washington's mood was cheerful. He smarted at old political wounds from onetime allies. When he read aloud a newspaper story that James Madison had nominated James Monroe for Virginia governor, he allowed himself some acerbic comments. He spurned Lear's advice to take medicine. "You know I never take anything for a cold," he protested. "Let it go as it came."9 Instead, he sat up late in his library before mounting the steps to his bedroom. Martha expressed dismay that he had not come upstairs earlier, but he said that he had done so as soon as he had finished his business. In the middle of the night, he awoke with a raw, inflamed throat. When he shook Martha awake, she grew alarmed by his labored breathing and wanted to fetch a servant, but he feared she might catch a chill on this cold night. Once again relying on his body's restorative powers, he had Martha wait until daybreak to call for help. When a slave named Caroline kindled a fire in the early morning, Martha asked her to scout out Tobias Lear, who found Washington breathing with difficulty and scarcely able "to utter a word intelligibly." Instead, he sat up late in his library before mounting the steps to his bedroom. Martha expressed dismay that he had not come upstairs earlier, but he said that he had done so as soon as he had finished his business. In the middle of the night, he awoke with a raw, inflamed throat. When he shook Martha awake, she grew alarmed by his labored breathing and wanted to fetch a servant, but he feared she might catch a chill on this cold night. Once again relying on his body's restorative powers, he had Martha wait until daybreak to call for help. When a slave named Caroline kindled a fire in the early morning, Martha asked her to scout out Tobias Lear, who found Washington breathing with difficulty and scarcely able "to utter a word intelligibly."10 Christopher Sheels propped up his master in a chair by the fire as Lear sent a swift slave to Alexandria for Dr. Craik, the Scottish physician who had served Washington with such fervent devotion since the French and Indian War. Meanwhile, to soothe his flaming throat, Washington consumed a syrupy blend of mola.s.ses, vinegar, and b.u.t.ter, though he nearly choked when he tried to swallow it. Christopher Sheels propped up his master in a chair by the fire as Lear sent a swift slave to Alexandria for Dr. Craik, the Scottish physician who had served Washington with such fervent devotion since the French and Indian War. Meanwhile, to soothe his flaming throat, Washington consumed a syrupy blend of mola.s.ses, vinegar, and b.u.t.ter, though he nearly choked when he tried to swallow it.

Washington's last day was spent in a lovely but simple setting, a plain bedroom prettily decorated with a table, armchair, and dressing table. As he faced death, Washington's indomitable poise was remarkable. With preternatural self-control, he had an overseer named George Rawlins bleed him before Dr. Craik arrived. When Rawlins blanched, Washington gently but firmly pressed him. "Don't be afraid," he said, and once Rawlins had sliced into the skin, making the blood run freely, he added, "The orifice is not large enough."11 Martha showed better medical judgment and pleaded for a halt to the bleeding, but Washington urged Rawlins on, saying "More, more!" until nearly a pint of blood had been drained. Martha showed better medical judgment and pleaded for a halt to the bleeding, but Washington urged Rawlins on, saying "More, more!" until nearly a pint of blood had been drained.12 A piece of moist flannel was wrapped around his throat while his feet were soaked in warm water. A piece of moist flannel was wrapped around his throat while his feet were soaked in warm water.

As they awaited Dr. Craik, Martha summoned the eminent Dr. Gustavus Richard Brown of Port Tobacco. Dr. Craik, arriving first, perpetuated the medieval treatments already in use, emptying more blood and applying to the throat cantharides, a preparation made from dried beetles, to draw the inflammation to the surface. He also had Washington inhale steam from a teapot filled with vinegar and hot water. When Washington tilted back his head to gargle sage tea mixed with vinegar, he nearly suffocated. Alarmed, Dr. Craik summoned a third doctor, Elisha Cullen d.i.c.k, a young Mason from Alexandria, who had studied under Dr. Benjamin Rush. Upon entering, he joined Craik in siphoning off more blood, which "came very slow, was thick, and did not produce any symptoms of fainting," wrote Lear.13 They also evacuated Washington's bowels with an enema. Joined at last by Dr. Brown, they took two more pints from Washington's depleted body. It has been estimated that Washington surrendered five pints of blood altogether, or about half of his body's total supply. They also evacuated Washington's bowels with an enema. Joined at last by Dr. Brown, they took two more pints from Washington's depleted body. It has been estimated that Washington surrendered five pints of blood altogether, or about half of his body's total supply.14 Dr. d.i.c.k recommended a still rare and highly experimental procedure-a tracheotomy that would have punched open a hole in Washington's trachea, easing his breathing-only to be overruled by Craik and Brown. "I shall never cease to regret that the operation was not performed," d.i.c.k said afterward, likening the three physicians to drowning men grasping at straws. Dr. d.i.c.k recommended a still rare and highly experimental procedure-a tracheotomy that would have punched open a hole in Washington's trachea, easing his breathing-only to be overruled by Craik and Brown. "I shall never cease to regret that the operation was not performed," d.i.c.k said afterward, likening the three physicians to drowning men grasping at straws.15 It is highly improbable, however, that Washington would have survived such a procedure, given his already weakened state. It is highly improbable, however, that Washington would have survived such a procedure, given his already weakened state.

As Tobias Lear sat by the bedside, grasping his mentor's hand, Washington issued some final instructions that reflect his preoccupation with both his posthumous fame and his solvency: "I believed from the firs