of those instrumental in warning the commander-in-chief of the existence of the Conway Cabal, because “my attachment to your person is such, my friendship is so sincere, that every hint which has a tendency to hurt your honor, wounds me most sensibly.”  The doctor was Washington’s companion, by invitation, in both his later trips to the Ohio, and his trust in him was so strong that he put under his care the two nephews whose charge he had assumed.  In Washington’s ledger an entry tells of another piece of friendliness, to the effect, “Dr. James Craik, paid him, being a donation to his son, Geo. Washington Craik for his education L30,” and after graduating the young man for a time served as one of his private secretaries.  After a serious illness in 1789, Washington wrote to the doctor, “persuaded as I am, that the case has been treated with skill, and with as much tenderness as the nature of the complaint would admit, yet I confess I often wished for your inspection of it,” and later he wrote, “if I should ever have occasion for a Physician or Surgeon, I should prefer my old Surgeon, Dr. Craik, who, from 40 years’ experience, is better qualified than a Dozen of them put together.”  Craik was the first of the doctors to reach Washington’s bedside in his last illness, and when the dying man predicted his own death, “the Doctor pressed his hand but could not utter a word.  He retired from the bedside and sat by the fire absorbed in grief.”  In Washington’s will he left “to my compatriot in arms and old and intimate friend, Doctor Craik I give my Bureau (or as the Cabinet makers called it, Tambour Secretary) and the circular chair, an appendage of my study.”

The arrival of Braddock and his army at Alexandria brought a new circle of military friends.  Washington “was very particularly noticed by that General, was taken into his family as an extra aid, offered a Captain’s commission by brevet (which was the highest grade he had it in his power to bestow) and had the compliment of several blank Ensigncies given him to dispose of to the Young Gentlemen of his acquaintance.”  In this position he was treated “with much complaisance ... especially from the General,” which meant much, as Braddock seems to have had nothing but curses for nearly every one else, and the more as Washington and he “had frequent disputes,” which were “maintained with warmth on both sides, especially on his.”  But the general, “though his enmities were strong,” in “his attachments” was “warm,” and grew to like and trust the young volunteer, and had he “survived his unfortunate defeat, I should have met with preferment,” having “his promise to that effect.”  Washington was by the general when he was wounded in the lungs, lifted him into a covered cart, and “brought him over the first ford of the Monongahela,” into temporary safety.  Three days later Braddock died of his wounds, bequeathing to Washington his favorite horse and his body-servant as tokens of his gratitude.  Over him Washington read the funeral service, and it was left to him to see that “the poor general” was interred “with the honors of war.”