for he would look upon me with eyes speaking gratitude, but unable to
utter a word without great distress."
At ten o'clock he appeared to make a desperate effort to speak, and at
length said to Mr. Lear: "I am just going. Have me decently buried, and
do not let my body be put into the vault in less than three days after I
am dead."
Mr. Lear signified his assent by a nod.
As if not satisfied with that, Washington looked up to him again, and
said:
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir," Mr. Lear answered distinctly.
"It is well," added the dying man--the last words he spoke.
Mr. Lear describes the closing scene thus:
"About ten minutes before he expired, his breathing became much easier;
he lay quietly. He withdrew his hand from mine and felt his own pulse. I
spoke to Dr. Craik, who sat by the fire; he came to the bedside. The
general's hand fell from his wrist; I took it in mine and placed it on
my breast. Dr. Craik closed his eyes, and he expired without groan or
struggle."
Mrs. Washington had been sitting in silent grief all the while, at the
foot of the bed; but now she inquired with calmness:
"Is he gone?"
No one could answer; hearts were too full for utterance. But Mr. Lear
"held up his hand as a signal that he was gone."
"It is well," responded Mrs. Washington, with firm, unfaltering voice.
"All is over now; I shall soon follow him; I have no more trials to pass
through."
Mr. Custis says, "Close to the couch of the sufferer resting her head
upon that ancient Book with which she had been wont to hold pious
communion a portion of every day for more than half a century, was the
venerable consort, absorbed in silent prayer, and from which she only
arose when the mourning group prepared to lead her from the chamber of
the dead. Such were the last hours of Washington."
The news of the ex-president's death spread rapidly for that day when
railroads and telegraphs were unknown, and the sadness and mourning were
universal. Congress was in session at Philadelphia, but did not receive
the sad intelligence until the 18th of December, the day of the funeral
at Mount Vernon.
The members of Congress appeared to be overwhelmed by the calamity, and
immediately adjourned. On assembling the next day, they eulogized both
by speech and resolution the illustrious dead; ordered that a marble
monument, bearing the record of his great achievements, be erected at
Washington; and appointed General Henry Lee to deliver a eulogy before
both branches of Congress on the 26th. The Senate addressed an eloquent
and pathetic letter to President Adams, in which it was said:
"On this occasion it is manly to weep. To lose such a man, at such a
crisis, is no common calamity to the world. Our country mourns a father.
The Almighty Disposer of human events has taken from us our greatest
benefactor and ornament. It becomes us to submit with reverence to Him,
'who maketh darkness his pavilion.'... Thanks to God, his glory is
consummated! Washington yet lives on earth, in his spotless example; his
spirit is in Heaven.
"Let his country consecrate the memory of the heroic general, the
patriotic statesman, and the virtuous sage. Let them teach their
children never to forget that the fruits of his labors and his example
are their inheritance."
The funeral ceremonies were performed at Mount Vernon on the 18th, under
the direction of Rev. Mr. Davis, rector of the parish, assisted by other
clergymen. The people came from many miles around to pay a grateful
tribute of respect to the honored dead. Almost the entire population of
Alexandria, nine miles distant, was there, including its military
companies. Eleven pieces of cannon were sent from that city, and one of
its leading citizens, Robert Morris, anchored a schooner in the Potomac,
in front of the Mount Vernon residence, from which minute-guns were
fired during the funeral exercises and the march of the long procession
to the tomb.
His remains were deposited in the old family vault, which was so
dilapidated that the proprietor was thinking of building a new one. Only
two or three days before he was taken sick, he called the attention of
his nephew to the spot where he should build it, and, referring to other
work demanding his attention, he added:
"But the tomb must be built first, since I may need it first."
It would be quite impossible to describe the scene of sorrow that
pervaded the country when the death of Washington became known. Congress
enacted that the 22d of February, Washington's birthday, should be
observed for funeral services throughout the nation. Every method of
expressing grief known to an afflicted people was called into
requisition. Houses of worship, public halls, State capitals,
schoolrooms, stores, and even dwellings were hung in mourning draperies
on that day. Sermons, eulogies, and resolutions by public bodies were
multiplied throughout the Union. The sorrow was universal.
Irving says:
"Public testimonials of grief and reverence were displayed in every
part of the Union. Nor were these sentiments confined to the United
States. When the news of Washington's death reached England, Lord
Bridport, who had command of a British fleet of nearly sixty sail of the
line, lying at Torbay, lowered his flag half-mast, every ship following
the example; and Bonaparte, First Consul of France, on announcing his
death to the army, ordered that black crape should be suspended from all
the standards and flags throughout the public service for ten days."
The great American orator of that day, Fisher Ames, delivered a eulogy
before the Massachusetts Legislature, in which he said:
"The fame he enjoyed is of the kind that will last forever; yet it was
rather the effect than the motive of his conduct. Some future Plutarch
will search for a parallel to his character. Epaminondas is perhaps the
brightest name of all antiquity. Our Washington resembled him in his
purity and the ardor of his patriotism; and like him, he first exalted
the glory of his country."
Lord Brougham said:
"How grateful the relief which the friend of mankind, the lover of
virtue, experiences, when, turning from the contemplation of such a
character [Napoleon], his eye rests upon the greatest man of our own or
of any age; the only one upon whom an epithet, so thoughtlessly lavished
by men, may be innocently and justly bestowed!"
Edward Everett, by whose efforts and influence "The Ladies' Mount Vernon
Association of the Union" were enabled to purchase (twenty-five years
ago) two hundred acres of the estate, including the mansion-house and
tomb, for preservation and improvement, says, in his biography of
Washington:
"In the final contemplation of his character, we shall not hesitate to
pronounce Washington, of all men that have ever lived, THE GREATEST OF
GOOD MEN AND THE BEST OF GREAT MEN!"
Posterity honors itself by calling him
"THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY!"
XXV.
EULOGY BY GENERAL HENRY LEE.
In obedience to your will, I rise, your humble organ, with the hope of
executing a part of the system of public mourning which you have been
pleased to adopt, commemorative of the death of the most illustrious and
most beloved personage this country has ever produced; and which, while
it transmits to posterity your sense of the awful event, faintly
represents your knowledge of the consummate excellence you so cordially
honor.
Desperate, indeed, is any attempt on earth to meet correspondently this
dispensation of Heaven; for while, with pious resignation, we submit to
the will of an all-gracious Providence, we can never cease lamenting, in
our finite view of Omnipotent Wisdom, the heart-rending privation for
which our nation weeps. When the civilized world shakes to its centre;
when every moment gives birth to strange and momentous changes; when our
peaceful quarter of the globe, exempt, as it happily has been, from any
share in the slaughter of the human race, may yet be compelled to
abandon her pacific policy, and to risk the doleful casualties of war;
what limit is there to the extent of our loss? None within the reach of
my words to express; none which your feelings will not disavow.
The founder of our federate republic, our bulwark in war, our guide in
peace, is no more. Oh that this were but questionable! Hope, the
comforter of the wretched, would pour into our agonizing hearts its
balmy dew; but, alas! there is no hope for us. Our Washington is removed
forever. Possessing the stoutest frame and purest mind, he had passed
nearly to his sixty-eighth year in the enjoyment of high health, when,
habituated by his care of us to neglect himself, a slight cold,
disregarded, became inconvenient on Friday, oppressive on Saturday, and,
defying every medical interposition, before the morning of Sunday, put
an end to the best of men. An end did I say? His fame survives, bounded
only by the limits of the earth and by the extent of the human mind. He
survives in our hearts, in the growing knowledge of our children, in the
affections of the good throughout the world; and when our monuments
shall be done away, when nations now existing shall be no more, when
even our young and far-spreading empire shall have perished, still will
our Washington's glory unfaded shine, and die not, until love of virtue
cease on earth, or earth itself sink into chaos.
How, my fellow-citizens, shall I single to your grateful hearts his
pre-eminent worth? Where shall I begin in opening to your view a
character throughout sublime? Shall I speak of his warlike achievements,
all springing from obedience to his country's will, all directed to his
country's good?
Will you go with me to the banks of the Monongahela to see your youthful
Washington supporting, in the dismal hour of Indian victory, the
ill-fated Braddock, and saving, by his judgment and by his valor, the
remains of a defeated army, pressed by the conquering savage foe? Or
when oppressed America, nobly resolving to risk her all in defence of
her violated rights, he was elevated by the unanimous voice of Congress
to the command of her armies, will you follow him to the high grounds of
Boston, where, to an undisciplined, courageous, and virtuous yeomanry,
his presence gave the stability of system, and infused the invincibility
of love of country? Or shall I carry you to the painful scenes of Long
Island, York Island, and New Jersey, when, combating superior and
gallant armies, aided by powerful fleets, and led by chiefs high in the
roll of fame, he stood the bulwark of our safety, undismayed by
disaster, unchanged by change of fortune? Or will you view him in the
precarious fields of Trenton, where deep glooms, unnerving every arm,
reigned triumphant through our thinned, worn down, unaided ranks,
himself unmoved? Dreadful was the night! It was about this time of
winter. The storm raged; the Delaware, rolling furiously with floating
ice, forbade the approach of man. Washington, self-collected, viewed the
tremendous scene; his country called. Unappalled by surrounding dangers,
he passed to the hostile shore; he fought, he conquered. The morning sun
cheered the American world. Our country rose on the event, and her
dauntless chief, pursuing his blow, completed on the lawns of Princeton
what his vast soul had conceived on the shores of the Delaware.
Thence to the strong grounds of Morristown he led his small but gallant
band, and through an eventful winter, by the high efforts of his genius,
whose matchless force was measurable only by the growth of difficulties,
he held in check formidable hostile legions, conducted by a chief
experienced in the art of war, and famed for his valor on the
ever-memorable heights of Abraham, where fell Wolfe, Montcalm, and,
since, our much lamented Montgomery, all covered with glory. In this
fortunate interval, produced by his masterly conduct, our fathers,
ourselves, animated by his resistless example, rallied around our
country's standard, and continued to follow her beloved chief through
the various and trying scenes to which the destinies of our Union led.
Who is there that has forgotten the vales of Brandywine, the fields of
Germantown, or the plains of Monmouth? Everywhere present, wants of
every kind obstructing, numerous and valiant armies encountering,
himself a host, he assuaged our sufferings, limited our privations, and
upheld our tottering republic. Shall I display to you the spread of the
fire of his soul by rehearsing the praises of the hero of Saratoga and
his much loved compeer of the Carolina? No: our Washington wears not
borrowed glory. To Gates, to Greene, he gave, without reserve, the
applause due to their eminent merit; and long may the chiefs of Saratoga
and of Eutaws receive the grateful respect of a grateful people.
Moving in his own orbit, he imparted heat and light to his most distant
satellites; and, combining the physical and moral force of all within
his sphere, with irresistible weight he took his course, commiserating
folly, disdaining vice, dismaying treason, and invigorating despondency,
until the auspicious hour arrived when, united with the intrepid forces
of a potent magnanimous ally, he brought to submission the since
conqueror of India; thus finishing his long career of military glory
with a lustre corresponding with his great name, and in this, his last
act of war, affixing the seal of fate to our nation's birth.
To the horrid din of war sweet peace succeeded; and our virtuous chief,
mindful only of the public good, in a moment tempting personal
aggrandizement, hushed the discontents of growing sedition, and,
surrendering his power into the hands from which he had received it,
converted his sword into a plough-share, teaching an admiring world that
to be truly great you must be truly good.
Were I to stop here, the picture would be incomplete and the task
imposed unfinished. Great as was our Washington in war, and much as did
that greatness contribute to produce the American republic, it is not in
war alone his pre-eminence stands conspicuous; his various talents,
combining all the capacities of a statesman with those of a soldier,
fitted him alike to guide the councils and the armies of our nation.
Scarcely had he rested from his martial toils, while his invaluable
parental advice was still sounding in our ears, when he who had been our
shield and our sword was called forth to act a less splendid but more
important part.
Possessing a clear and penetrating mind, a strong and sound judgment,
calmness and temper for deliberation, with invincible firmness and
perseverance in resolutions maturely formed, drawing information from
all, acting from himself with incorruptible integrity and unvarying
patriotism, his own superiority and the public confidence alike marked
him as the man designed by Heaven to lead in the great political, as
well as military, events, which have distinguished the area of his life.
The finger of an overruling Providence pointing at Washington was
neither mistaken nor unobserved, when, to realize the vast hopes to
which our Revolution had given birth, a change of political system
became indispensable.
How novel, how grand, the spectacle! independent States stretched over
an immense territory, and known only by common difficulty, clinging to
their Union as the rock of their safety, deciding, by frank comparison
of their relative condition, to rear on that rock, under the guidance of
reason, a common government, through whose commanding protection liberty
and order, with their long train of blessings, should be safe to
themselves and the sure inheritance of their posterity!
This arduous task devolved on citizens selected by the people, from a
knowledge of their wisdom and confidence in their virtue. In this august
assembly of sages and of patriots, Washington of course was found; and,
as if acknowledged to be most wise where all were wise, with one voice
he was declared their chief. How well he merited this rare distinction,
how faithful were the labors of himself and his compatriots, the work of
their hands, and our union, strength, and prosperity, the fruits of that
work best attest.
But to have essentially aided in presenting to his country this
consummation of her hopes, neither satisfied the claims of his
fellow-citizens on his talents, nor those duties which the possession of
those talents imposed. Heaven had not infused into his mind such an
uncommon share of its ethereal spirit to remain unemployed, nor bestowed
on him his genius unaccompanied by the corresponding duty of devoting it
to the common good. To have framed a constitution, was showing only,
without realizing, the general happiness. This great work remained to be
done; and America, steadfast in her preference, with one voice summoned
her beloved Washington, unpractised as he was in the duties of civil
administration, to execute this last act in the completion of the
national felicity. Obedient to her call, he assumed the high office with
that self-distrust peculiar to his innate modesty, the constant
attendant of pre-eminent virtue. What was the burst of joy through our
anxious land on this exhilarating event is known to us all. The aged,
the young, the brave, the fair rivalled each other in demonstrations of
their gratitude; and this high-wrought, delightful scene was heightened
in its effect by the singular contest between the zeal of the bestowers
and the avoidance of the receiver of the honors bestowed. Commencing his
administration, what heart is not charmed with the recollection of the
pure and wise principles announced by himself as the basis of his
political life? He best understood the indissoluble union between virtue
and happiness, between duty and advantage, between the genuine maxims of
an honest and magnanimous policy, and the solid rewards of public
prosperity and individual felicity. Watching with an equal and
comprehensive eye over this great assemblage of communities and
interests, he laid the foundations of our national policy in the
unerring, immutable principles of morality, based on religion,
exemplifying the pre-eminence of free government by all the attributes
which win the affections, of its citizens, or command the respect of the
world.
"O fortunatos dimium sua si bona norint!"
Leading through the complicated difficulties produced by previous
obligations and conflicting interests, seconded by succeeding houses of
Congress, enlightened and patriotic, he surmounted all original
obstructions and brightened the path of our national felicity.
The presidential term expiring, his solicitude to exchange exaltation
for humility returned with a force increased with increase of age; and
he had prepared his farewell address to his countrymen, proclaiming his
intention, when the united interposition of all around him, enforced by
the eventful prospects of the epoch, produced a further sacrifice of
inclination to duty. The election of president followed, and Washington,
by the unanimous vote of the nation, was called to resume the chief
magistracy. What a wonderful fixture of confidence! Which attracts most
our admiration: a people so correct or a citizen combining an assemblage
of talents forbidding rivalry, and stifling even envy itself? Such a
nation deserves to be happy; such a chief must be forever revered.
War, long menaced by the Indian tribes, now broke out; and the terrible
conflict, deluging Europe with blood, began to shed its baneful
influence over our happy land. To the first outstretching his invincible
arm, under the orders of the gallant Wayne, the American eagle soared
triumphant through distant forests. Peace followed victory, and the
melioration of the condition of the enemy followed peace. God-like
virtue, which uplifts even the subdued savage!
To the second he opposed himself. New and delicate was the conjuncture,
and great was the stake. Soon did his penetrating mind discern and seize
the only course continuing to us all the blessings enjoyed. He issued
his proclamation of neutrality. This index to his whole subsequent
conduct was sanctioned by the approbation of both houses of Congress,
and by the approving voice of the people.
To this sublime policy he invariably adhered, unmoved by foreign
intrusion, unshaken by domestic turbulence.
"Justum et tenacem propositi virum,
Non civium ardor prava jubentium,
Non vultus instantis tyranny
Mente quatit solida."
Maintaining his pacific system at the expense of no duty, America,
faithful to herself and unstained in her honor, continued to enjoy the
delights of peace, while afflicted Europe mourns in every quarter, under
the accumulated miseries of an unexampled war, miseries in which our
happy country must have shared had not our pre-eminent Washington been
as firm in council as he was brave in the field.
Pursuing steadfastly his course, he held safe the public happiness,
preventing foreign war and quelling internal disorder, till the
revolving period of a third election approached, when he executed his
interrupted but inextinguishable desire of returning to the humble walks
of private life.
The promulgation of his fixed resolution stopped the anxious wishes of
an affectionate people from adding a third unanimous testimonial of
their unabated confidence in the man so long enthroned in their hearts.
When before was affection like this exhibited on earth? Turn over the
records of Greece, review the annals of mighty Rome, examine the volumes
of modern Europe, you search in vain. America and her Washington only
afford the dignified exemplification.
The illustrious personage, called by the national voice in succession to
the arduous office of guiding a free people, had no difficulties to
encounter. The amicable effort of settling our difficulties with France,
begun by Washington and pursued by his successor in virtue, as in
station, proving abortive, America took measures of self-defence. No
sooner was the public mind roused by a prospect of danger than every eye
was turned to the friend of all, though secluded from public view and
gray in public service. The virtuous veteran, following his plough,[D]
received the unexpected summons with mingled emotions of indignation at
the unmerited ill-treatment of his country, and of a determination once
more to risk his all in her defence.
[D]: General Washington, though opulent, gave much of his time
and attention to physical agriculture.
The annunciation of these feelings in his affecting letter to the
president, accepting the command of the army, concludes his official
conduct.
_First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his
countrymen_, he was second to none in the humble and endearing scenes of
private life; uniform, dignified, and commanding, his example was as
edifying to all around him as were the effects of that example lasting.
To his equals he was condescending; to his inferiors, kind; and to the
dear object of his affections, exemplarily tender; correct throughout,
vice shuddered in his presence, and virtue always felt his fostering
hand; the purity of his private character gave effulgence to his public
virtues.
His last scene comported with the whole tenor of his life. Although in
extreme pain, not a sigh, not a groan escaped him; and with undisturbed
serenity he closed his well-spent life. Such was the man America has
lost; such was the man for whom our nation mourns.
Methinks I see his august image, and hear falling from his venerable
lips these deep-sinking words: