Bruce Chadwick creates a unique approach to the genre of US History by blending murder-mystery with that of law, medicine, and the Founding Fathers. With distinct backgrounds of George Wythe and his relationship with both a budding new nation and that of his fellow Founders, a good portion of the book appropriately follows the background and debauchery of his poisonous nephew, George Sweeney. While I Am Murdered starts off with excitement and recounts the potential poisoning of Wythe, it fails in keeping that same page-turning atmosphere about halfway through. Here, the focus turns (quite relevantly) to a vast history of autopsies and forensics, the uses and effects that arsenic and other poisons have had throughout the course of time, and groundbreaking trials and laws of early Virginia—specifically those pertaining to African Americans, who would play a major role leading up to the trial.
Make no mistake, this has all of the drama leading up to a thrilling trial, one fought by the leading lawyers of the age—while doctors and other professionals play a huge role with their educated guesses, misjudgments, and respective relationships to Wythe. However, the excitement of the trial itself is disappointingly given a few pages at the end—with no focus on the minutes, exact arguments heard for and against, nor how the jury came up with their eventual verdict. Nevertheless, Chadwick's dedicated research to both the law and history of the times is impressive, with backgrounds of Wythe's black servants, William Wirt and Edmund Randolph (lawyers for the defense), as well as the evidence put forth against Sweeney that surely would lead to a guilty verdict:
Mayor DuVal told authorities that he had inspected the outbuildings and the grounds of Wythe's home and found what he believed to be arsenic powder in the outhouse and on a wheelbarrow in the smokehouse. DuVal said that he used a pin to spread the powder on the wheelbarrow and looked at it closely; he was certain it was arsenic. A man named Nelson Abbott said that the week before the judge was poisoned, he had let Abbott use his workshop. Abbott returned on the twenty-seventh and found what he said was arsenic powder on an axe and a yellowish sulfuric coloring on the hammer. Both were later cleaned. Two slaves who worked for Abbott said they had actually seen Sweeney use the hammer to crush a white substance into powder on the side of the axe. When the substance was crushed into fine powder, Sweeney had brushed it into a piece of white paper, folded it, and put it in his pocket.
"Do you know what I am doing?" Sweeney had asked the slaves. They told him they assumed that he was making ratsbane because there was a rat problem at the judge's house. Sweeney then walked away, leaving the axe and the hammer stained. The slaves had thought nothing of it and did not mention the incident to anyone until after the chancellor died and the investigation heated up.
The book offers an exciting look at a murder that was indeed shocking for the ages and had monumental effects for all the parties involved—and as is typical, especially for the careers of the lawyers involved. While happily the whole of the title stays true to the end, Chadwick perhaps misses out on the chance of chronicling a bit more information pertaining to George Wythe's life from childhood up until his signing of the Declaration. At times overly-descriptive and slow, this was truly a fascinating look into a dark and shocking crime of the Jeffersonian era.