By Josh Katzowitz, WCI Content DirectorOne could imagine how mortified and miserable the United States citizenry would have been when they were informed that George Washington had died. He was the war hero, the country’s first president, and the conscience of the people. If he had wanted, he probably could have become king of the country without too much opposition.
Mortal men and women, of course, perish (even the ones who eventually are woven into the country’s fabric forever), and when it was Washington’s turn to go in December 1799, one physician offered his services—not to tend to Washington in his final moments or to make him more comfortable as he began his exploration of the great beyond. The doctor wanted to try to reverse the whole darn process.
Today, we’ll talk about Dr. William Thornton, who offered to (and really thought he could) bring Washington back to life.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: I’ve always loved history. I’ve always loved the idea of taking a peek into the past and studying it from the current-day perspective. The idea of time travel also fascinates me. With my passion for writing about finance, I’m combining all of it together in an occasional column for WCI called “The Financial Wayback Machine.”
I want to journey back in time and look at those supposedly great ideas that now seem ridiculous, all the good and terrible predictions (crystal balls have never not been cloudy), the doctors who did great (and shady) things, and all the seemingly minor news nuggets that ended up making huge waves. It’ll be fun, it’ll be silly, and maybe it’ll be a good lesson for what not to do with your money today.
After all, as WCI Founder Dr. Jim Dahle once said, “If you've never read history, you're destined to repeat it.”
Step into the Financial Wayback Machine with me, and let’s travel back in time.]
The Doc Who Wanted to Revive Washington After Death
George Washington made his fatal mistake on December 12, 1799, when, on a day that was cold and wet, he took his horse on a five-hour ride around the Mount Vernon plantation to inspect the property. By the next day, he had developed a sore throat, and by that evening, he had a hard time swallowing and breathing.
Eventually, a total of three physicians arrived on his property and took more than two liters of blood (as one did in the 18th century) and had him inhale a vinegar steam vapor to cure him of his viral infection. None of it helped, and by December 14, Washington was dead of an apparent case of acute epiglottitis.
Enter Dr. William Thornton, who traveled to Mount Vernon when he heard the news and offered to try to revive Washington by, according to American Heritage, “rubbing [Washington’s] skin, blowing air into his lungs, and transfusing him with lamb’s blood.”
The idea of trying to bring someone back to life wasn’t that outlandish for the time. There were reports of people who were thought to be dead who actually weren’t, startling the mourners around them when the presumed deceased opened their eyes (perhaps when they were already in their coffins). People were a little wary that somebody who they thought was dead actually might not be dead (either that, or they were mostly dead), and, thus, they didn’t want to hastily bury anyone before they got confirmation that the person was no longer even a little bit alive.
Thornton had trained in a Scottish medical school, and he was also an inventor, the first architect of the US Capitol building, and a painter. And boy did he have an idea.
When Thornton learned of Washington’s illness, he rushed to Mount Vernon, believing he could perform a tracheotomy. But Thornton later wrote that when he arrived, Washington was “laid out a stiffened corpse. My feelings at that moment I cannot express! I was overwhelmed with the loss of the best friend I had on Earth.”
Since the weather was so frigid and Washington had been in a frozen state for several days, here’s what Thornton suggested (according to history.com, Thornton’s inspiration might have come from seeing frozen fish be thawed back to life):
“I proposed to attempt his restoration, in the following manner. First to thaw him in cold water, then to lay him in blankets, and by degrees and by friction to give him warmth, and to put into activity the minute blood vessels, at the same time to open a passage to the lungs by the trachaea, and to inflate them with air, to produce an artificial respiration, and to transfuse blood into him from a lamb. If these means had been resorted to and had failed, all that could be done would have been done, but I was not seconded in this proposal; for it was deemed unavailing. I reasoned thus. He died by the loss of blood and the want of air. Restore these with the heat that had subsequently been deducted, and as the organization was in every respect perfect, there was no doubt in my mind that his restoration was possible.”
Does that sound nuts? Maybe so, but Thornton’s proposal apparently didn’t come from the mind of a madman. According to Jonathan Horn, author of a Washington biography, “[Thornton] was a figure of the Enlightenment, a Thomas Jefferson-type character who believed that science and reason could solve almost every problem.” Plus, Washington and others during this time had a fear of being prematurely buried alive and told his contemporaries to leave his deceased body alone for at least two days just to make sure he was gone for good.
“[Thornton] looks at it not from a religious angle, but a science angle and sees the processes that killed Washington and thinks he can reverse them,” Horn said.
Sadly for Thornton, those around Washington declined his request for the possible resuscitation, though he believed long afterward that his idea was sound. Yet, the denial of Thornton’s request was the right call. His idea wouldn’t have worked, and Washington, before he died, told those around him he wanted to be undisturbed as he slipped through the end of life. Plus, Thornton never actually practiced medicine once he arrived in America.
But then again, it’s not like Thornton could have done any worse than the doctors who tried to save Washington’s life before he died. Maybe if they had taken three liters of his blood instead of two, they could have saved the infection in his throat.
Doctor-Approved Drinking
I enjoy watching doctors from the 1950s and 1960s hawk cigarettes in TV commercials. And now that, according to Gallup polling, only 54% of Americans say they drink alcohol (the lowest number in the history of the polling service), we should look at old commercials of physicians touting the positives of drinking a cold beer.
OK, I couldn’t actually find a real commercial about a doctor who discussed the health benefits of a Jägerbomb or who believed the idea of lick, drink, suck could help your immune system. This is the closest thing I could find.
I don’t speak French, so I don’t quite know what’s going on here, but it seems like a doctor failed to save somebody’s life (or maybe he did, I’m not sure). Then, somebody buys him a Stella that is then shared by everybody in the bar. That's not overly hygienic during what seems to be a time when some sort of deadly illness is ravaging the town, but hey, what do I know about the customs of those who live in rural, old-timey France?
Previous Wayback Machine columns:
How a Morally Dubious Dentist Changed The Beatles’ Sound
One of the Filthiest Comedians Ever Solves Mr. Miyagi’s Money Problems
A Solemn Happy Anniversary to the Doctor Who Tried to Save the President’s Life
A Doc Created the Coolest Shoe in the Whole World
Money Song of the Week
I spent a few days in Seattle earlier this summer, and I couldn’t figure out why there were so many emo kids milling around the metro area. I saw them on the harbor cruise. I saw them trying free samples at Pike Place Market. I saw them on the elevator at the Space Needle. The emo kids, who I thought had been extinct for years, were everywhere!
Finally, I overheard an older lady ask a younger person why there were so many people wearing shirts bearing the letters MCR. She was told that My Chemical Romance, one of the best-known emo bands of all, had started its stadium tour the day before in Seattle, and that’s why we saw so many people wearing black eye makeup, winter hats despite summer temperatures, and dyed hair. Turns out the emo kids weren’t extinct. No, they were just hibernating until MCR returned in all its glory.
To celebrate emo’s resurrection, let’s take a listen to another of the genre’s bigwigs, Taking Back Sunday, and its 2011 tune Money (Let It Go). I was never an emo guy (though MCR’s “Helena” is one of my favorite music videos ever), so this is the first time I’ve ever heard this song. Let’s listen together, as Adam Lazzara sings:
“Get gone, keep on keeping away/Get paid, sit around and wait/Well, all that time you wasted/Complain, complain, complain/She walked in then out the bank/Well, she knew what she was doing/Took everything you saved.”
It seems obvious that this song is about a woman who uses a man for his money and then leaves him high and dry. Some online, though, have wondered whether the song used the woman as a metaphor for drugs.
My take: perhaps in this day and age, the “she” in this song really should be Ticketmaster. After all, with some MCR fans paying $1,000 or more to see their favorite band on its stadium tour, ticket-sellers would have no problem emptying out an emo kid’s bank account faster than they can, with black mascara running down their faces as the dead get resurrected, sing, “So long and good night, so long and good night!”
More information here:
Every Money Song of the Week Ever Published
Facebook Post of the Week
Taylor Swift brings joy. But how much will that joy ultimately cost you?
[EDITOR'S NOTE: For comments, complaints, suggestions, or plaudits, email Josh Katzowitz at [email protected].]
Bushrod Washington’s (George Washington’s nephew) instructions were explicit lest his physicians declare him dead and he wasn’t. “My desire is that when the event happens, the sheet on which I am then laying may be employed as a Winding Sheet and at once thrown round my Person and tied about my middle with a Pocket [sic] Handkerchief–the common Practice of washing the Body is to be avoided- my thumbs are not to be tied together–nor anything put on my face or any restraint upon my Person by Bandages, &c. My Body is to be placed in an entirely plain coffin with a flat Top and a sufficient number of holes bored through the lid and sides–particularly about the face and head to allow Respiration if Resuscitation should take place and having been kept so long as to ascertain whether decay may have occurred or not, the coffin is to be closed up…” 14 Nov. 1829
Nice article Josh, and nice to know that Washington had made his wishes known regarding his end of life care, and even post- life care. Do you know anything about his estate planning? I would assume he had some sort of plan in place.
btw I had never heard of EMO until you mentioned it!
You don’t know emo? Man, you’ve gotta stop listening to ’80s pop for a few minutes and start listening to early 2000s alt rock.
On the eve of his death, Washington had one of his two wills destroyed. Details of the surviving will can be found by googling Washington’s Last Will & Testament Mt. Vernon. The actual text can be found by googling George Washington’s Last Will and Testament, 9 July 1799 Founders Online. He provided for his wife, relations, the community and made plans for the care of his slaves unlike other Founders in VA. (This was complicated since half the slaves at Mt. Vernon were dower slaves.). But like many “wealthy” Virginians, he was property rich, but cash poor.
End of life care was very different in the colonial era; there was no need for the details and caveats we have today. It was a private, family matter with a focus on comfort, doctors were scarce and women played the most important role. For more on this read: Revolutionary Medicine The Founding Fathers and Mothers in Sickness and In Health by Jeanne Abrams.
Jefferson is an example of his doctors killing him. He had been given heavy amounts of sulfur and mercury for years and was addicted to Laudanum and suffered from numerous debilitating illnesses. But like Washington, except for his physician, care was provided by the family and slaves.
Interestingly, one of those three docs wanted to try a newfangled treatment for Washington’s epiglottitis: endotracheal intubation. He was voted down by the other two and they proceeded with the standard treatment of the day: bloodletting, with predictable consequences. An important little piece of airway management history many anesthesiologists and emergency docs are taught in residency.