The Body: A Guide for Occupants

by Bill Bryson

Consider the unfortunate death of George Washington. In December 1799, not long after he had retired as America’s first president, Washington spent a long day on horseback in foul weather inspecting Mount Vernon, his plantation in Virginia. Returning home later than expected, he sat through dinner in damp clothes. That night he developed a sore throat. Soon he had difficulty swallowing and his breathing had become laboured. Three physicians were called in. After a hurried consultation, they opened a vein in his arm and drained eighteen ounces of blood, almost enough to fill a pint glass. Washington’s condition only worsened, however, so his throat was blistered with a poultice of cantharides – what is more commonly known as ‘Spanish fly’ – to draw out bad humours. For good measure he was given an emetic to induce vomiting. When all of this failed to produce any visible benefit, he was bled three times more. Altogether about 40 per cent of his blood was removed over two days. ‘I die hard,’ Washington croaked as his well-meaning doctors relentlessly sapped him. No one knows precisely what Washington’s complaint was, but it may have been no more than a minor throat infection that required a little rest. As it was, the illness and treatment together left him dead. He was sixty-seven years old.