In his last days he bought two of the easy-gaited animals known as Narragansetts, a breed, some readers will recall, described at some length by Cooper in The Last of the Mohicans. A peculiarity of these beasts was that they moved both legs on a side forward at the same time, that is, they were pacers.  Washington’s two proved somewhat skittish, and one of them was responsible for the only fall from horseback that we have any record of his receiving.  In company with Major Lewis, Mr. Peake, young George Washington Custis and a groom he was returning in the evening from Alexandria and dismounted for a few moments near a fire on the roadside.  When he attempted to mount again the horse sprang forward suddenly and threw him.  The others jumped from their horses to assist him, but the old man got up quickly, brushed his clothes and explained that he had been thrown only because he had not yet got seated.  All the horses meanwhile had run away and the party started to walk four miles home, but luckily some negroes along the road caught the fugitives and brought them back.  Washington insisted upon mounting his animal again and rode home without further incident.  This episode happened only a few weeks before his death.

Like every farmer he found that his horses had a way of growing old.  Those with which he had personal associations, like “Blueskin” and “Nelson,” he kept until they died of old age.  With others he sometimes followed a different course.  In 1792 we find his manager, Whiting, writing:  “We have several Old Horses that are not worth keeping thro winter.  One at Ferry has not done one days work these 18 Months. 2 at Muddy hole one a horse with the Pole evil which I think will not get well the other an Old Mare was not capable of work last summer.  Likewise the Horse called old Chatham and the Lame Horse that used to go in the Waggon now in a one horse Cart.  If any thing could be Got for them it might be well but they are not worth keeping after Christmas.”  No doubt a sentimental person would say that Washington ought to have kept these old servants, but he had many other superannuated servants of the human kind upon his hands, so he replied that Whiting might dispose of the old horses “as you judge best for my interest.”

Now and then his horses met with accidents.  Thus on February 22, 1760, his horse “Jolly” got his right foreleg “mashed to pieces,” probably by a falling limb.  “Did it up as well as I could this night.”  “Saturday, Feb. 23d.  Had the Horse Slung upon Canvas and his leg fresh set, following Markleham’s directions as well as I could.”  Two days later the horse fell out of the sling and hurt himself so badly that he had to be killed.