During the Presidency Washington had several dangerous illnesses, but the
earliest one had a comic side. In his tour through New England in 1789, so
Sullivan states, "owing to some mismanagement in the reception ceremonials
at Cambridge, Washington was detained a long time, and the weather being
inclement, he took cold. For several days afterward a severe influenza
prevailed at Boston and its vicinity, and was called the _Washington
Influenza_." He himself writes of this attack: "Myself much disordered by
a cold, and inflammation in the left eye."

Six months later, in New York, he was "indisposed with a bad cold, and at
home all day writing letters on private business," and this was the
beginning of "a severe illness," which, according to McVickar, was "a case
of anthrax, so malignant as for several days to threaten mortification.
During this period Dr. Bard never quitted him. On one occasion, being left
alone with him, General Washington, looking steadily in his face, desired
his candid opinion as to the probable termination of his disease, adding,
with that placid firmness which marked his address, 'Do not flatter me
with vain hopes; I am not afraid to die, and therefore can bear the
worst!' Dr. Bard's answer, though it expressed hope, acknowledged his
apprehensions. The President replied, 'Whether to-night or twenty years
hence, makes no difference.'" It was of this that Maclay wrote, "Called to
see the President. Every eye full of tears. His life despaired of. Dr.
MacKnight told me he would trifle neither with his own character nor the
public expectation; his danger was imminent, and every reason to expect
that the event of his disorder would be unfortunate."

During his convalescence the President wrote to a correspondent, "I have
the pleasure to inform you, that my health is restored, but a feebleness
still hangs upon me, and I am much incommoded by the incision, which was
made in a very large and painful tumor on the protuberance of my thigh.