a daughter, her first child.

December 12, 1799, was a bad day. General Washington, making the usual
rounds of his farms, was not deterred by snow, sleet, nor the cold rain
that followed. Coming in late to dinner, which was awaiting him, his
clothes soaked, snow clinging to his hair, he did not take time to
change his wet things. The next day he had a sore throat and was very
hoarse. During the night he felt ill and awoke his wife. As soon as it
was daylight, Mrs. Washington sent a messenger posthaste for Dr. Craik.
Before he arrived, Washington insisted upon being bled, and his
secretary, Tobias Lear, sent across the river to Port Tobacco for Dr.
Gustavus Brown. When Dr. Craik arrived he was alarmed at the condition
of his friend, bled him twice, and asked to have Dr. Dick called for
consultation. The three doctors battled with their primitive knowledge
as best they knew how. Dr. Craik rarely left the room, sitting by the
fire, his hand cupped over his eyes. Mrs. Washington sat at the foot of
the bed, while Tobias Lear noted every passing moment for posterity and
gave what aid he could to make the patient comfortable. About five
o'clock Washington said to Craik, "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." Life dragged five hours more, and when
the end came Dr. Craik closed the eyes of him who was his best
friend.[156] The watch which ticked off these awful moments is
preserved in the Museum at Mount Vernon. When the General's will was
opened one of the clauses read:

To my compatriot in arms, and old & intimate friend, Doct^r Craik, I
give my Bureau (or as the Cabinet makers call it, Tambour Secretary)
and the circular chair--an appendage of my Study.[157]

[Illustration: Mantel in the house at 209 Prince Street which John
Harper rented to Dr. Craik from 1790 to 1795 at L60 per annum and which
bears a plate erroneously marking the domicile of Dr. Dick, who lived
next door]

This desk and chair migrated with a later generation of Craiks to
Kentucky and afterward the heirloom chair was presented as a token of
esteem to General Andrew Jackson. Happy to relate, both pieces are again
united in the library at Mount Vernon.

There remained for Dr. Craik one more duty to perform at Mount Vernon.
In May 1802, two and a half years after the death of her husband, Martha
Washington fell ill. This old friend of her married li