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sonofhistory · 7 years ago

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Do you have any information on the founding fathers on their deathbeds?

In chronological order:

A few days before his death, Benjamin Franklin, already on his last days began to run a temperature and felt pain in his chest from an imposture in his leg lung. His difficulty in breathing increased until he was almost suffocating. “He rose from his bed,” wrote Benjamin Rush later to Richard Price, “and begged that it be made up for him so that he might die in a descent manner. His daughter told him that she hoped he would recover and live many years longer. He calmly replied: “I hope not”. Upon being advised to change his position in bed, so that he might breath easy, he said: “A dying man can do nothing easy.” The empyema burst and breathing became almost impossible and he passed into a coma. His grandsons William Temple and Benjamin Bache watched him as he died quietly at eleven in the night of April 17th at eighty-four. (Benjamin Franklin by Karl Van Doren.

On Thursday, December 12, 1799, George Washington was out on horseback supervising farming activities from late morning until three in the afternoon, however during this ride it began to hail and rain. The next morning brought a sore throat and Washington’s voice became increasingly more hoarse. Saturday, December 14th, he was seen by three different doctors who bled and nearly suffocated him with drinks and was bed-ridden. At five in the afternoon George Washington sat up from bed, dressed, and walked over to his chair. He returned to bed within thirty minutes and Washington said, “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 can not last long.” Soon afterward, Washington thanked all three doctors for their service. At ten at night George Washington spoke, requesting to be “decently buried” and to “not let my body be put into the Vault in less than three days after I am dead.” His last words were “’tis well.” Between ten and eleven at night on December 14, 1799, George Washington passed away surrounded by his wife, a few friends, three housemaids and his valet Christopher Sheels. (Washington by Ron Chernow).

After being shot in a duel with Aaron Burr, Alexander Hamilton was rowed across the Hudson and was preoccupied with spiritual matters. No sooner was he brought to the Bayard home, he asked to see Reverend Benjamin Moore, the rector of Trinity Church. Moore balked at giving Hamilton holy communion as he wrestled with death. Hamilton then turned to Reverend John M. Mason, pastor of the Scotch Presbyterian Church. When Mason entered the chamber he took Hamilton’s hand and the two men exchanged a “melancholy salutation”. Hamilton was unable to get it from him either. Mason tried to console Hamilton, “I perceive it to be so,” Hamilton said. “I am a sinner. I look to His mercy.” He then stressed a hatred of dueling “I used every expedient to avoid the interview, but I have found for some tie past that my life must be exposed to that man. I went to the field determined not to take his life.” He then said “My dear sir, you perceive my unfortunate situation and no doubt have been made acquainted with the circumstances which led to it. It is my desire to receive the communion at your hands. I hop you will not conceive there is any impropriety in my request.” He added, “It has been some time past been the wish of my heart and it was my intention to take an early opportunity of uniting myself to the church by the reception of that holy ordinance.” He also expressed his faith in God’s mercy. Lifting his hands, he said, “I have no ill will against Colonel Burr. I met him with a fixed resolution to do him no harm. I forgive all that happened” The next morning, Hamilton’s mind still clear but his body was motionless. Eliza allowed the children into his presence and lined them at the foot of his bed. According to the Doctor, “he opened his eyes, gave them on look, closed them again till they were taken away.” (Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow).

A few days before Thomas Jefferson’s death, bedridden, he said goodbye to his family, addressing them each in turn. To an eight year old grandson, he smiled and said, “George does not understand what all this means.” To a great-granddaughter he quotes the Gospel of Luke: “Lord, now wettest thou thy servant depart in peace.” Thomas Jefferson Randolph, a grandson, suggested he was looking better, but Jefferson would have none of it. “Do not imagine for a moment that I feel the smallest solicitude about the result,” Jefferson said, “I am like an old watch, with a pinion worn out here, and a wheel there, until it can go no longer.” He awoke to a noice and wondered wether he had heard the name of the Reverend Frederick Hatch. No, he was told. “I have no objection to see him, as a king and good neighbor,” Jefferson said, turning over. He composed a poem for Patsy alluding to his imminent reunion with his wife and Polly. Lying in his alcove bed, Jefferson mused about the Revolution, telling stories of the great drama. “A few hours more, Doctor, and it will be all over,” he said at one point. A five forty-rive pm on July 2nd, he took laudanum in grog. He was given tea three hours later and brandy four hours after that. He slept fitfully as the clock tinged. In the evening of July 3rd at seven pm, he asked, “Ah! Doctor, are you still there?” before saying “Is it the Fourth?”. The Doctor confirmed this and Jefferson said “Oh God!” before taking more laudanum. Two hours later at nine pm, the Doctor awoke him to give him more but he said “No, Doctor, nothing more.” Three hours later he asked, “This is the Fourth?” and there was silence because it was not, he repeated the question and the man lied to him. “Ah, said Jefferson. “Just as I wished.” During one of his dreams he said “Warn the Committee to be on the alert,” and motioned in the air as if he was writing something. At ten he stirred and stared at a grandson and wanted his head elevated. His lips were then at a request wetted with a sponge. At twelve fifty on July 4th, Thomas Jefferson died with his eyes open mixed upon his alcove. (Thomas Jefferson: Art of Power by Jon Meacham).

July 3rd, 1826 John Adams was only able to utter a few words. Early morning of Tuesday, July 4th, Adams lay in bed with his eyes closed, breathing with great difficulty. Thomas Adams sent off an urgent letter to John Quincy Adams saying their father was “sinking rapidly.” Efforts were made to give Adams more comfort by changing his position and he awakened. Told that it was the fourth, he answered “It is a great day. It is a good day.” Late in the afternoon, he stirred and whispered clearly enough to be understood “Thomas Jefferson survives.” Somewhat later, struggling for breath, he whispered to his grand-daughter Susanna, “Help me, child! Help me!” then lapsed into silence. At about six twenty on July 4th, 1826, John Adams was dead. (John Adams by David McCullough).

On the night of May 14, 1829, John Jay was stricken with palsy, probably caused by a stroke. He lived for three days, dying in Bedford, New York, on May 17. That same day, as John Jay was near his death he was asked if he had any final words for his children. He responded with four words: “They have the Book.” [x]

After his wife’s death, unable to live by himself and forced to sell all his property to pay for debts due to Congress not paying him, James Monroe lived with his daughter Maria in New York with her children and husband. After his wife’s death he also expressed that he would not live the year without her and by December, 1830 it was tough for him to leave his bed. He grew weaker, plagued by a cough. When John Quincy Adams came to visit him in April, 1831, Monroe could not leave his room and cut his visit short. In May he wrote up his will dividing everything equally between his two daughters. In a letter to James Madison, he said his greatest regret was that they would never see each other again. That was the last letter he ever had the strength to write and did not respond to Madison’s letter back. On July 4th, 1831, surrounded by Maria’s family, he died shortly after three in the morning, fully conscious. According to sources at the scene, Monroe’s last words were, “I only regret that I should leave this world without again beholding him.” The “him” Monroe was speaking of was James Madison. (James Monroe: The Quest of Destiny by Harry Ammon).

For six months before James Madison’s death, he was “unable to walk, and spent most of his time reclining on a couch.” My mind, however, “was bright and with his numerous visitors he talked with as much animation strength of voice as I ever heard him in his best days.” May 1836 he roused from bed one final time and talked eagerly about his War of 1812 experience. A few days before his death, Madison spent his time reading Professor George Tucker’s life of Thomas Jefferson. On June 27th, he spent several hours painfully dictating thanks for the dedication of the book to him. It was suggested he take “stimulators” which would prolong his life until the 4th of July and be the last founding father and fourth to die on the famous date. The morning of June 28th, Paul Jennigs, a slave, shaved him and brought him breakfast. Nelly Willis, a niece came to visit with her uncle as he ate, when he had difficulty swallowing, Mrs. Willis asked him what the trouble war. Jennings recalled that Madison replied, “nothing more than a change of mind, my dear” and then “his head instantly dropped and he ceased breathing as quietly as the snuff of a candle goes out.” (James Madison by Ralph Ketcham).

#iamafangirlforeverthing #Flood pressles box

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jornami · 8 years ago

Text

Stuck to this Corner Like a Streetlight

A/N: I've been obsessed with bakery AUs lately and I really wanted to write one! Feedback/constructive criticism is always encouraged! Hope you enjoy! This is so long I’m so sorry!

Things you should know: 1. I've never been to NYC in my life. So, I don't know how streets work up there. Is 34th and Melso Street even a place? Probably not. Is it five blocks down from the Richard Rodgers? Hell no. 2. I do a very poor job of explaining ITH 3. I have nothing against Vanessa

Tagged: @congratsonhamlet @unlazilyfreshrebel @lexiortanez @hamfamhamfam @superwholockbooknerd526 @naomyb16 @iamafangirlforeverthing @sleepretreat @xomullenxo @rebekatrue @plamspringsdancingontables

Pairing: Lin x reader

Summary: You bake cupcakes for Lin’s opening nights and he gives you tickets to the show. It's enough until it isn't.

Masterlist | Request!

You and Lin-Manuel Miranda had a friendship that came about in a unique way. It all started back in 2008.

March 5, 2008

You had just opened your bakery on the corner of 34th and Melso Street. You were beyond happy; opening a bakery was a lifelong dream of yours. Your bakery, “Cupquakes,” had only been open for three weeks, and business was booming; you already had ten orders. But the order made on March 5 was the one that you’ll never forget.

You were just about to close the shop for the day, when he walked in.

“Sorry, we’re about to close, and the Lucky Charm cupcakes are sold out.” you said as you wiped down the counter, not even bothering to look up.

“I know, but do have time to place one more order?” the man asked desperately.

“Sure.” you said with a warm smile.

“Can I order like four dozen cupcakes?” he asked.

You two proceed to go over the details of the cupcakes and just the cupcakes until you asked him what he wanted on them.

“Umm, I don’t really know. I hadn’t even thought about that.” he chuckled.

“Well, what’re the cupcakes for?” you asked in hopes that it would give you an idea on what to put on the cupcakes.

“Well, I’m actually opening a play on Broadway.” he told you and immediately you were intrigued.

You always loved plays, and you couldn’t believe you were taking a cupcake order from someone who wrote one.

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He proceeded to tell you what the play was about and immediately you had a ton of ideas. It was called “In the Heights,” and it took place in a Latino neighborhood in New York City. The play was about a guy named Usnavi who ends up winning the lottery.

“That play sounds really good, no wonder you made it to Broadway!” you gushed.

“Thanks,” he blushed, obviously flattered by your compliment.

“Maybe I could make little Puerto Rican and Dominican flags out of fondant. Ooh, and I could write 96,000 on Oreos and stick them out of the cupcake frosting. And you said champagne is a recurring motif, right? Well, maybe I can make champagne cupcakes with gold sprinkles!” you rambled until you caught yourself.

“You can do all that?” he asked in disbelief and you nodded.

“What time do they need to be ready?”

“The ninth.” he said sheepishly.

Your smile faded instantly. Four dozen cupcakes?!?! In four days?!?!

“Four dozen cupcakes in four days?” you exclaimed. “That’s 48 cupcakes!”

“Well, today’s the fifth so maybe one dozen each day?” he offered. “Can you do it? ‘Cause if you can’t, that’s totally fine; I’ll just find someone who can.”

You face softened, you really wanted to make the cupcakes for the opening night of his play.

“No,” you told him, “I can do it.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” he praised you.

“Just give me a name for the order.”

“Lin.”

“Delivery or pick up?”

“Delivery.”

“Where to and when?” you asked.

“The Richard Rodgers Theatre on 226 West 46th Street at 5 o’clock.” he said.

“Alright, Lin, I’ll see you then!” you smiled.

“Until then.” he said and began to make his way to the door. “Wait, I never got your name.”

“Y/N.” you told him.

“Y/N,” he repeated. “such a nice name for a nice girl.”

And in that moment you knew you were going to have to do whatever it took to make all 48 of those cupcakes. Ugh, he had you whipped and you just met him.

March 9, 2008

“Done!” you cheered as you stuck the last Puerto Rican flag on the cupcake.

You spent that last four days making the four dozen cupcakes for Lin’s opening night, and you did whatever it took to do so. You stayed late, skipped lunch breaks, you even closed the shop early.

You put that last cupcake in the box and started carrying the boxes out to your car. The Richard Rodgers was only five blocks from your shop, but with New York traffic you knew it would probably take you at least 30 minutes.

Sure enough, 35 minutes later you were there. You texted Lin to let him know you were outside and you need help.

“On my way :)”

Three minutes later you see Lin come out of the theater.

“Here they are!” you said, gesturing to the four boxes of sugary confections in you trunk. “All 48 of them.”

“Thank you so much!” he said for the 800th time that week. “How much do I owe you?”

“68.23.” you read off the receipt.

He hands you all 68 dollars and a quarter.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any change,” you apologized.

“Don’t worry about it; it’s only two pennies.” he assured you. “Help me carry these in?”

You both grab two boxes and head inside the theater. You stop halfway and stop to admire the place. This was a dream come true.

“Wow,” you awed, “a real Broadway theater.”

“Yep, maybe if you stick around I’ll give you a tour.” Lin smiled.

God, was he cute.

You followed him backstage to a room where the after party was being held. The room was decorated with flags, balloons, pictures of the cast, and a poster of the show. You sat the cupcake boxes next to each other.

“You wanna see them?” you asked Lin with a smirk on your face.

“Of course!” he exclaimed.

The look on his face when he saw the cupcakes was priceless. He was awestruck.

“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I think I did a pretty good job.” you said, admiring your own work.

“You did amazing,” he said sincerely.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly. “I’m gonna head out, but it was a honor making cupcakes for you opening night.”

“Wait!” Lin called after you and you turned around. “68 dollars isn’t enough. Come see the show tonight?”

“Seriously?” you asked.

“Seriously, it’s the least I can do for all your hard work.”

“Well, if you’re offering, I’d love to.”

“It starts at 7.”

“I’ll be there.” you smiled.

So, there you were at 6:59 on the nose. You found your seat and waited patiently for it to start. And, oh boy, once the lights dimmed you were practically bouncing in your seat.

It finally started and you enjoyed every minute of it. Then intermission rolled around. Ugh. A fifteen minute break never felt so long.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, act two started. However, just as soon as it started; it was over. By the end you were actually crying, and your lap was filled with crumpled up tissues.

Lin told you to come backstage after it was over, so you fixed your face in the bathroom and headed back there.

“So, what did you think?” he asked eagerly.

“It was okay. I'd give it a check minus.” you lied, adding a reference from the play.

“By your bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks, I'd say you enjoyed it.” he said slyly.

“What can I say? The finale made me emotional.” you admitted, causing him to giggle.

“Your cupcakes were a hit; everyone loved them!” he said.

Just as he said that Chris Jackson who played Benny came up to you.

“YO, ARE YOU THE GIRL WHO MADE THOSE BOMB ASS CUPCAKES?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled, slightly taken aback.

“CAN YOU MAKE ME LIKE A WHOLE BATCH OF THOSE CHAMPAGNE CUPCAKES?” he yelled.

“Alright, buddy,” Lin said and patted Chris on the back. “no more alcoholic cupcakes for you.”

You two laughed as Chris was led away by Karen Olivo who played Vanessa.

“Well, I really have to get going.” you told Lin and his face fell.

“Stay, please.” he begged.

Your heart sank; he looked so sad.

“Lin, I’d love to, but I have a huge wedding order to fill tomorrow morning.” you told him.

“If you must,” he sighed dramatically.

“If you ever need some more cupcakes or a friend to talk to,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “you know where to find me.”

“Noted.” he said and you went your separate ways.

Lin took what you said on March 9, 2009 to heart and he visited your shop quite frequently. Sometimes, he would come in because he needed a sugar fix. Other times he came in just to talk to you or have a quiet place to work on his plays.

He didn't need another cupcake order until 2014.

June 4, 2014

“Hey, Miranda,” you said to Lin as he walked into your shop. “how's my favorite playwright?”

“Pretty good,” he smiled. “and how are you, my favorite baker?”

“Tired,” you sighed. “I have sooooo many orders to fill.”

“Well, I'm about to add to your workload,” he told you.

“You finally ready for me to make cupcakes for that musical about Alexander Hamilton you've been working on?” you asked hopefully.

“No, actually I've been working on this musical called, ‘21 Chump Street,’ and I was wondering if you could make cupcakes for opening night?” he asked.

“Of course, how many do you need?”

“Two dozen.”

“Delivery or Pick up?”

“Delivery.”

“When do you need them?”

“The 7th.”

“Lin!” you exclaimed. “You can't keep doing this!”

“I know, I'm sorry!” he apologized.

“Whatever.” you said, obviously not convinced by his apology. “What do you want on them?”

“Surprise me,” he said simply as he handed you a playbill. “The synopsis for the play is in here.”

“You're lucky we're friends, Miranda,”

“Love youuuuu!”

“Goodbye, Lin,” you sighed. “I'll see you on the 7th.”

June 7, 2014

You had just finished putting the finishing touches on the cupcakes for Lin’s play. You made vanilla and chocolate cupcakes with buttercream frosting, and all of the cupcakes were topped with little fondant marijuana leaves.

“Isn't the play about how weed can ruin your life?” your fellow baker and friend, Charlotte asked.

“Yeah, but I wanted to make them look cute,” you told her.

“Well, Lin will love them anyway,” she assured you.

“I hope so,” you mumbled.

“When are you gonna ask him out anyways?” she asked.

“Tonight after the show.” you told her.

“Finally!” she squealed. “You've been practically in love with him since ’08!”

She was right. You had liked Lin in a more-than-friend way since 2008, but you never had the courage to tell him. But you were past patiently waiting; you were finally going to do it.

You arrived at the Brooklyn Academy of Music at 5:00 and you saw Lin waiting outside for you.

“Cupcake delivery for Mr. Lin Manuel Miranda?” you announced, flashing him a cheesy smile.

“That's me!” he smiled.

“Your total is 36.50.” you said.

“Here,” he said and hand you an envelope.

You looked inside and saw two tickets to the play.

“I hope you can accept this as a payment,” he said jokingly.

“I'll gladly take the tickets in addition to the money.” you replied snarkily.

He handed you the money and you two walked inside. He led you backstage and you sat the cupcakes down on the table.

“Can I look at them?” he asked.

“Go ahead,” you said.

He opened the box of cupcakes and didn't say anything. It was starting to make you nervous.

“So, what do you think?” you asked nervously.

“I think it's insensitive to Justin Laboy’s story.” he said harshly. “He was seduced and tricked by an undercover cop and you're making a joke out of it.”

Shit. Your biggest fear was coming true.

“Lin, I'm so sorry. I thought you'd think it was cute, and��” you rambled, but he cut you off.

“Y/N, I was kidding!” he giggled.

“Goodbye, Miranda,” you said, slightly relieved and slightly pissed.

“See you tonight!” he called after you.

“Uh huh,” you said and waved him off.

Lin gave you two tickets so you took Charlotte who was a mess by the end of the play.

“It wasn't fair!” She shouted, “He was just a child!”

“Well, I guess if you're so upset we can just go home,” you suggested, hoping she'd forget about what you said about asking Lin out.

“No!” she said, her mood changing right before your eyes. “You're going to ask him out if it's the last thing you do!”

You groaned and you two walked backstage. Lin was talking to his friend, Alex Lacamoire.

“Oh, he's busy, let's go!” you mumbled and began to walk in the direction you came in.

“Over my dead body!” she said and pushed you in Lin’s direction.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Lin said as he saw you. “How did you like it?”

“It was great, but I need to ask you something,” you said, getting more anxious with every word you spoke.

“Can it wait?” he asked and your smile disappeared. “I'm talking to Lac about getting Hamilton on Broadway!”

“That's great! I'll just ask you later.” you said.

You were genuinely happy for Lin. You knew how long he had been working on Hamilton, and besides, you could always ask him the next time he came into your shop.

You never did ask Lin out after that day at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. You could never work up the courage to ask him. That would be to your detriment because what happened on July 29, 2015, would make you regret that decision forever.

July 29, 2015

“Y/N, big news!” Lin announced as he walked into your shop.

“What's up?” you asked.

“Hamilton is going to Broadway!” he announced proudly.

“Lin, that's amazing!” you squeaked, practically jumping over the counter to hug him. “I'm so proud of you!”

The warmth of his embrace, the smell of his cologne; it was perfect.

“But wait, there's more!” he announced.

He dug through his pockets and pulled out a velvet box.

Oh no.

“I'm proposing to my girlfriend, Vanessa, and I was wondering if you could bake the ring into a cupcake?” he asked with a huge smile on his face.

Your smile faltered and your heart shattered. It was too late.

#ta da!!#lin x reader #lin manuel miranda x reader #i wrote my way out #:)#so...part 2?#my writing #seriously lemme know if you want a part 2 #i'm already working on it

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