Dark Banquet - Bill Schutt [33]
Alarmed but undaunted, the three physicians kept trying. In an attempt to draw the poisonous humors away from Washington’s throat, blisters were raised on his extremities. Additionally, a poultice of wheat bran was applied to his feet and legs, and he was asked to inhale a solution of ammonia and water. Still, the former president’s condition continued to worsen. Unbeknownst to his doctors, not only had Washington lost a dangerous amount of blood but the “medications” they prescribed to purge him had, in all likelihood, left their patient severely dehydrated as well.
In desperation, Dr. Dick suggested a tracheotomy (or bronchotomy, as it was then referred to). This was a relatively new procedure that was sometimes employed to treat injuries in which the larynx (voice box) had been crushed.*46
Unfortunately, no one will ever know if this procedure could have saved George Washington’s life. Apparently, the two elder attending physicians overruled Dr. Dick.
Back at Washington’s bedside, it soon became apparent to all (including the great man himself) that the end was near. According to Tobias Lear, by this point, his master “spoke but seldom, and with great difficulty; and at so low & broken a voice as at times hardly to be understood.” Washington asked his wife to fetch two wills from his desk, then instructed her to burn one of them (since it had been superseded by the other). He called upon Lear and struggled to make certain that his letters and papers were in order and that his accounts would be settled upon his death.
At around 10 p.m., Lear bent in close as George Washington struggled to voice his final words. “I am going,” he said. “Have me decently buried; and do not let my body be put into the Vault in less than three days after I am dead.” This seemingly odd statement can perhaps be explained by a widespread fear of premature burial that existed at the time.
After Lear confirmed that he’d understood what Washington had said, the first president of the United States uttered his last words, “Tis well.”
Shortly after that, the most famous man on the planet expired, “without a struggle or a sigh.”
George Washington was sixty-seven years old.
Over two hundred years later there is still debate over the specific illness that had stricken the Founding Father. While some have suggested laryngeal diphtheria or a peritonsillar abscess, most experts now believe that Washington suffered from an acute case of bacterial epiglottitis (an inflammation of the leaf-shaped flap that covers the entrance to the trachea during swallowing). Although rare in these days of antibiotics, this malady is potentially fatal since it causes the epiglottis to swell, blocking the airway and rendering the sufferer (as in Washington’s case) unable to breathe.
There is no debate that the loss of approximately 40 percent of Washington’s blood volume within a thirteen-hour period hastened the great man’s demise. For comparative purposes, the American Red Cross generally requires an eight-week period between blood donations of one-tenth the volume drained from the former president on what was to be his last day alive.
Eighty ounces.
“What the hell were those guys thinking?” I asked myself, initially.
But as easy as it is to scoff at Washington’s physicians and their chosen course of treatment, I know now that I was dead wrong in doing so. These men were, after all, simply trying to save their patient’s life, and bloodletting had been the accepted treatment not only for sore throats but also for scores of other maladies since the time of the Mesopotamians, Egyptians, and ancient Greeks (as well as the Mayans and Aztecs).
There was, in fact, a storm of criticism following Washington’s death and those comments are quite revealing. One physician claimed that Washington’s tonsils should have been scarified, while another suggested that the former president’s doctors should have bled him from under the