It was always a subject of inquiry with me, who originated the system of bleeding; and why it was that all kinds of doctors and physicians persist in taking the stream of life itself from the system in order to preserve life. In the case of General Washington, which I copy from the _Independent Chronicle_ of Boston, January 6, 1800, the editor, using "James Craik, physician, and Elisha C. Dick, physician," as authority, states that a bleeder was procured in the neighborhood, who took from the General's arm from twelve to fourteen ounces of blood, in the morning; and in the afternoon of the same day was bled copiously twice. More than that, it was agreed upon by these same enlightened doctors, to try the result of another blood-letting, by which thirty two ounces more was drawn. And, wonderful as it may seem to the intelligent mind at this day, they state that all this was done without the slightest alleviation of the disease. The world has become more wise now, and experience has shown how ridiculous this system of bleeding was. What is true in regard to the human system is also true in regard to the animal. There are some extreme cases in which I have no doubt moderate bleeding might render relief. But these cases are so few that it should only be suffered to be done by an experienced, careful, and skillful person. My advice is, avoid it in all cases where you can.
The mule is quite subject to this complaint. It is what is commonly known as belly-ache. Over doses of cold water will produce it. There is nothing, however, so likely to produce it in the mule as changes of grain.
Musty corn will also produce it, and should never be given to animals. I recollect, in 1856, when I was in New Mexico, at Fort Union, we had several mules die from eating what is termed Spanish or Mexican corn, a small blue and purplish grain. It was exceedingly hard and flinty, and, in fact, more like buckshot than grain. We fed about four quarts of this to the mule, at the first feed. The result was, they swelled up, began to pant, look round at their sides, sweat above the eyes and at the flanks. Then they commenced to roll, spring up suddenly, lie down again, roll and try to lie on their backs. Then they would spring up, and after standing a few seconds, fall down, and groan, and pant. At length they would resign themselves to what they apparently knew to be their fate, and die. And yet, singular as it may seem, the animal could be accustomed to this grain by judicious feeding at first.