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"Death and the Civil War" - Tonight on PBS

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Tonight on the PBS series American Experience, Ric Burns brings us Death and the Civil War, a bleak and wrenching documentary about the 750,000 people who died in the American Civil War. "Never before and never since have so many Americans died in any war, by any measure or reckoning," the narrator says, then Drew Gilpin Faust explains that in today's population that would mean 7 million dead. "What would we as a nation today be like, if we faced the loss of 7 million individuals?" Faust asks. This is a documentary about a nation learning what death on a terrible scale means -- what it means to die, what our wishes are after we die, how we bury our dead, what our responsibilities are to our veterans (and enemy veterans) who die, and also what our responsibility is to our veterans who live. It is an utterly devastating film, and you should watch it. Here's the trailer:

Watch Death and the Civil War Extended Promo on PBS. See more from American Experience.

The results of the Civil War included national cemeteries, policies about notifying next-of-kin, and state-level veterans' homes (which eventually led to the VA system we know today). Prior to that war, none of these existed in the United States -- and this documentary explores how we collectively came to understand how and why we honor the dead who serve our country.

The Civil War By the Numbers

Here's a snippet from American Experience's Civil War By the Numbers page:

From 1861 to 1865, the Civil War ravaged America. It still holds several notorious records, such as the highest number of average deaths per day (504). Read more of the shocking statistics from the War that divided our nation.

  • 4:1               The ratio of people who attended church weekly to those who voted in the 1860 election
  • 2.5               Approximate percentage of the American population that died in the Civil War
  • 7 mil           Number of Americans lost if 2.5% of the population died in war today
  • 2.1 mil        Number of Northerners mobilized to fight for the Union army
  • 880,000    Number of Southerners mobilized for the Confederacy
  • 50                Estimated percentage of Civil War deaths that occurred in the last two years of the War
  • 40+             Estimated percentage of Civil War dead who were never identified
  • 66                Estimated percentage of dead African American Union soldiers who were never identified
  • 2 out of 3   Number of Civil War deaths that occurred from disease rather than battle
  • 68,162        Number of inquiries answered by the Missing Soldiers Office from 1865-1868

The Gettysburg Address, Examined

The battle of Gettysburg incurred death on a scale that we can hardly imagine. With an estimated 51,000 casualties and 7,786 dead, the scale of carnage overwhelmed the town of Gettysburg, which itself only had 24,000 residents. There was simply no way the people there could properly care for the wounded and dead. As the film's narrator explains: "In three days, Union and Confederate forces had suffered almost as many casualties as in all previous American wars combined." Add to that, 3,000 dead horses lay dead on the battlefield. The task of burying the dead fell to Union soldiers and the townspeople, who faced the unimaginably grim work of burying these people in the summer heat. This is when the North truly felt the impact of the war, as this terrible battle literally brought death home. The stench of decay was so powerful and pervasive that when frost came, months after the battle, townspeople were still smearing peppermint oil on their faces to mask the odor. Let me say that again: the battle ran from July 1-3; people could still smell the carnage when the ground froze.

The most powerful part of Death and the Civil War is its treatment of Gettysburg and the Gettysburg Address. The film offers so much context for that speech, it's hard to imagine discussing the speech lacking this specific understanding of what was going on around Lincoln as he spoke. Imagine that you lived in Gettysburg, and you had to bury your country's dead in mass graves, and you had to live with that experience for months. Imagine then that a massive new cemetery, one of the first national cemeteries, had been constructed just south of town, and it was so large that it became a primary feature of your local landscape; the government paid to re-bury Union soldiers in that new cemetery at a rate of $1.59 per body. And then imagine that your president arrives in November, with the stench of death still in the air, and speaks -- he dedicates that Soldiers' National Cemetery (now Gettysburg National Cemetery), but also speaks to the larger responsibilities of the nation to its dead. He speaks in a cemetery where half of the coffins haven't even been buried yet. And this is what he says:

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain--that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom--and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Here's the first 11 minutes of the film. This gives you a clear idea of what it's like.

Watch Death and the Civil War, Chapter 1 on PBS. See more from American Experience.

And here's Executive Producer Mark Samels discussing how the documentary came about:

Watch Why we made Death & the Civil War on PBS. See more from American Experience.

The film airs on PBS stations tonight, September 18, at 8pm/7pm Central (check your local listings to be sure -- the program is American Experience and lasts two hours). If you miss the broadcast, the film will be available online on iTunes. The film is inspired by Drew Gilpin Faust's This Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War, and Faust appears in the film, framing the war and how it changed America's relationship with death.

Blogger disclosure: I was not specially compensated for this review. I requested a screener after seeing Ric Burns's New York: A Documentary, and found this film to be even more powerful.

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Hamilton Broadway
A Hamilton-Themed Cookbook is Coming
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Hamilton Broadway

Fans of Broadway hit Hamilton will soon be able to dine like the Founding Fathers: As Eater reports, a new Alexander Hamilton-inspired cookbook is slated for release in fall 2017.

Cover art for Laura Kumin's forthcoming cookbook

Called The Hamilton Cookbook: Cooking, Eating, and Entertaining in Hamilton’s World, the recipe collection by author Laura Kumin “takes you into Hamilton’s home and to his table, with historical information, recipes, and tips on how you can prepare food and serve the food that our founding fathers enjoyed in their day,” according to the Amazon description. It also recounts Hamilton’s favorite dishes, how he enjoyed them, and which ingredients were used.

Recipes included are cauliflower florets two ways, fried sausages and apples, gingerbread cake, and apple pie. (Cue the "young, scrappy, and hungry" references.) The cookbook’s official release is on November 21—but until then, you can stave off your appetite for all things Hamilton-related by downloading the musical’s new app.

The Man Who First Made Childbirth Pain-Free

The Wood Library Museum of Anesthesiology in Schaumburg, Illinois—a sprawling exurb of Chicago—is home to an obstetric treasure: a plaster cast of a newborn infant’s head. The bust shows the trauma of birth, the infant's head squeezed to a blunted point. The cast was made on January 19, 1847 by Sir James Y. Simpson in Edinburgh, Scotland, for a very special reason: It commemorates the first time that modern anesthesia was used to ease the pain of childbirth.

Simpson was not only a titled 1st Baronet but a gifted obstetrician. At age 28, he became Professor of Medicine and Midwifery at the University of Edinburgh. Many his senior in the medical community thought Simpson was an upstart—in fact, it's said that his middle name, "Young," was originally a derogatory taunt by his elders. In response to their jeers, Simpson adopted it for good.

Simpson initially used ether as an anesthetic in deliveries, but he soon began looking for an alternative anesthetic because of the gas's "disagreeable and very persistent smell" and the fact that it was irritating to the patients' lungs. His experimentation with chloroform—invented in the United States in 1831 by physician Samuel Guthrie—began in November 1847, with a brandy bottle and some post-dinner party research. The story goes that he presented the filled bottle to his guests to inhale. The next morning, the party were all found on the floor unconscious.

Scholars say this dramatic version of events is likely overblown, but the story illustrates the dangers of discovery. As Simpson's experiments continued, one neighbor and fellow doctor reportedly [PDF] came around to his home at 52 Queen Street every morning "just to inquire if every-one was still alive."

A drawing said to depict the effects of liquid chloroform on James Y. Simpson and his friends.
A drawing said to depict the effects of liquid chloroform on James Y. Simpson and his friends.

Eventually, Simpson got the formulation right with some help from his assistants, who were also local chemists. Over time, the delivery method also improved: Instead of a whiff of fumes from a brandy bottle, doctors developed an apparatus that resembled a glass hookah with long tubes attached to a mask. Later in the century, a soft flannel-covered, metal-handled cup or pouch placed over the nose and mouth of the patient was the preferred delivery method. The doctor—hopefully competent—doled out the anesthetic drop by drop. This method sought to reduce the risk of overdose deaths, which were a significant concern early on.

Simpson was the first to discover the anesthetic properties of chloroform, and soon began to use the drug to help women in labor. The medical community applauded his achievements, as did many women of childbearing age, but some Scottish Calvinists (and members of other religions) were not so happy. Genesis 3:16 was very clear on the matter of women suffering in childbirth as punishment for eating fruit from the Tree of Knowledge: "To the woman he said, I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children." For those who took the Bible literally, easing a woman’s pain was anathema.

Some reports from the time describe the divide between medicine and religion on this issue as an all-out revolt, while other accounts claim the religious response to anesthetizing "the curse of Eve" has been overblown by history. In general, it's fair to say the church wasn't thrilled about the use of anesthesia in labor. When Simpson introduced his discovery in 1847, the Scottish Calvinist Church proclaimed it a "Satanic invention." Pregnant women were reportedly warned by preachers: Use this “devilish treatment” and your baby will be denied a baptism.

Simpson disagreed—he didn't think women should have to suffer the pain of childbirth. He made both a scientific and biblical argument for anesthesia during labor. In a pamphlet, Answers to the Religious Objections Advanced Against the Employment of Anaesthetic Agents in Midwifery and Surgery and Obstetrics, Simpson pointed to Genesis and the deep sleep of Adam while his rib was being removed as being evidence "of our Creator himself using means to save poor human nature from the unnecessary endurance of physical pain." He went further, declaring that labor pains were caused by anatomical and biological forces (a small pelvis and a big baby caused uterine contractions)—not a result of the curse of Eve.

Public opinion changed after Queen Victoria took chloroform (applied by Dr. John Snow, famous for his work related to cholera) for the birth of her eighth child, Leopold, in 1853. The queen wrote in her diary: "Dr Snow administered that blessed chloroform and the effect was soothing, quieting and delightful beyond measure." Her final child, Princess Beatrice, was also born with the aid of anesthesia. Clearly, she approved.

Edinburgh is still proud of Simpson and of its special place in the history of anesthesia. From August 16 to 18, 2017, the Edinburgh Anesthesia Research and Education Fund will host the 31st Annual Anesthesia Festival, featuring lectures on anesthesia and pain medicine as well as drinks receptions, a private viewing of a Caravaggio, recitation of the works of Robert Burns (Scotland's most revered poet), and bagpiping.

According to the event website, the past success of the festival has led to moving the whole thing to a larger space to accommodate demand. Apparently there are a great number of people with a passion for medical history—or at least, a great deal of gratitude for the development of anesthesia.


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