THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY From the library of Dr. Charles B. Johnson Champaign Presented by Alice S. Johnson, »07 1933 610 . 9^5 I? II Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates I https://archive.org/details/danieldrakehisfoOOjuet THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 1785—1909 UNi.VLRSnY OF ILLINOIS DANIEL DRAKE AND HIS FOLLOWERS HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES BY OTTO JUETTNER, A. M., M. D. Author of ^^Modern Physio -therapy'' Editor of^^^Songs of the University of Cincinnati" Fellow of the American Academy of Medicine, the American Association for the Advance- ment of Science, the Ohio Historical Society, the Association of American Medical Editors, the American Electro-therapeutic Association, the American Physio- therapeutic Association, the Royal Society of Medicine (England), the Royal Microscopical Society, the Royal Anthropological In- stitute of Great Britain and Ireland, the London Roentgen Society, the Society of Arts (London), the German Roentgen Society, the Societe de Radiologie et Eleftrologie (Paris), etc., etc., etc. ^*2'he world is moved by men of uneasy Hawthorne HARVEY PUBLISHING COMPANY CINCINNATI Copyright, 1909, By Otto Juettner. Oa Zi "Bon. SEP 6- -E* university of ILLINOIS FOREWORD T '^HIS book contains the story of some of the great architects of yester- day, who laid the foundation of and helped to build the stately edifice of Western medicine. A few years ago I picked up Mans- field’s “Memoirs of Daniel Drake,” and was completely fascinated by the character and the life work of Drake. Posterity has done nothing for this great man. He seems to be entirely forgotten. To hold up the mirror of the past to the present generation was the motive which primarily sug- gested the writing of this book. Incidentally I felt that even a modest attempt to preserve some of the unwritten professional records of the past, and m this way arouse additional interest in the medical history of this country, would be a sufficiently worthy motive to justify the appearance of a new book and apologize for any shortcomings of the latter. The life work of Drake and the immediate and remote effects of his labors on the evolution of medical practice and education in this part of the country are not unworthy of being placed beside those of the immortal Rush. The latter was not a greater man in the East than Drake was in the West. We are no longer in the stage of transition from primitive conditions of existence to more settled modes oPlife. The time has come when the people of the Middle West can retrospectively contemplate the records of their past, and experience the thrill of inspiration which must be communicated to their inner consciousness by the knowledge of a history, a tradition, a raison d'etre, distinctly Western in character and inseparable from Western people and Western soil. Therein lies Drake’s claim to the gratitude of posterity because he was one of the great standard bearers of civilization in this Western country. The present volume includes the records of those who continued the work left by Drake. Among these followers of Drake were some whose labors form a part of medical history, while others might be charitably interred in the grave of oblivion. Yet their records, collectively, add an interesting page to the history of American medicine, not without significant lessons to the present and future. These lessons might prove a source of solace to some, while there is hardly any one who can not discern some meaning in and derive some instruction from the story of the eternal mutation of things, as exemplified in the happenings of a hundred years in and near the old town which Daniel Drake loved so much and so loyally. lit t VM 874546 For valuable assistance in obtaining material, I am indebted to Mr. Albert H. Morrill, of Cincinnati, a great-grandson of Daniel Drake, and to many members of the profession, particularly Dr. Frederick P. Henry, Honorary Librarian of the College of Physicians (Philadelphia) ; Dr. A. G. Drury, Dr. P. S. Conner, Dr. Wm. H. Taylor, Dr. Edwin Landy, Dr. H. W. Felter, Dr. S. R. Geiser, Dr. R. C. Stockton Reed, Dr. E. S. McKee, Dr. H. Dieckmeyer and Dr. Thos. C. Minor, of Cincinnati. Acknowledgments -are due Mr. P. Alfred Marchand, of the Cincinnati Hospital Library, and Misses Laura Smith and K. W. Sherwood, of the Cincinnati Public Library, for their courtesy and never-failing readiness to help in research work; also the Hon. M. E. Wilson for valuable aid in securing material. I regret my inability to mention all those who are entitled to some expression of my gratitude in return for assistance rendered and encouragement given. That some attempts were made 'to impede the progress of the work, was not altogether unex- pected. Some of the persons, things, events and situations of the recent past have not sufficiently receded into the mist of the distant past to have entirely lost the glow of life or to have assumed the placid garb of historical dis- interestedness. In the preparation of “Daniel Drake and his Followers” much assistance was given by some of the older physicians in the way of oral information. The gathering of the portraits involved a good deal of labor, but was made interesting and pleasant by the uniform courtesy and willingness with which people in all parts of the country aided the author in this arduous and time- robbing task. Many of the portraits are rarities of the greatest historical value. The following bibliographic references represent the sources whence the contents of this book were largely drawn : 1 — Medical journals, especially those published since 1822 in Cincinnati, Lexington and Louisville. 2 — The writings of Daniel Drake. 3 — The writings of Samuel D. Gross, especially his “Autobiography.” 4 — Cist’s “Cincinnati.” 1841. 1851. 1859, 5 — Ford’s “Cincinnati.” 1881. 6 — Nelson’s “Cincinnati.” 1896. 7 — '“Centennial History of Cincinnati,” by C. T. Greve, a work upon which too much praise can not be bestowed. It is a veritable mine of informa- tion. It contains a valuable chapter on “Medical Cincinnati ” by Dr. A. 1. Carson. 8 — Controversial pamphlets written at various times by different indi- viduals, especially D. Drake, A. Goldsmith, J. C. Cross, J. F. Henry, J. L. Vattier, M. B. Wright, G. Blackman, J. A. Thacker, etc., etc 9 — The transactions of various State Societies. 10 — Annual Catalogues and Announcements of medical schools. 11 — Annual Reports of Colleges, Hospitals and other public institutions. 12 — Books of medical biography, by Williams, Atkinson, Gross, Stone, and others. 13 — Mumford’s “Medicine in America.” 14 — Biographical sketches written by M. B. Wright, T. C. Minor, A. G. Drury and others. These sketches have appeared in different journals at various times. 15 — The “Index Medicus” and the “Index Catalogue of the Surgeon General’s Office,” two monumental works which do not seem to be known and appreciated by the profession, as they deserve to be. 16 — Writings of Edward D. Mansfield, especially his “Personal Rem- iniscences” and “Memoirs of D. Drake.” IT — Howe’s Historical Recollections of Ohio. 18 — Archives of the Ohio Historical Society. 19 — Archives of the Cincinnati Hospital Library. 20 — The Mussey Collection of Medical Books (Cincinnati Public Li- brary). 21 — Felter’s Plistory of the Cincinnati Eclectic Medical Institute. 22 — King’s History of Homeopathy. 23 — Archives of the Philadelphia College of Physicians. 24 — Archives of the Ohio State Medical Society. 25 — Wilder’s History of Medicine. 26 — Archives of the German Literary Club, Cincinnati. 27 — “Der Deutsche Pionier” (monthly), Cincinnati. 28 — Files of daily papers, published in Cincinnati, especially from 1800 to 1850. 29 — Transactions of the Alumnal Associations of the Ohio and Miami Medical Colleges, Cincinnati. 30 — Medical Directories. Otto Juettner. Cincinnati, Ohio. On the Ninetieth Birthday of the Medical College of Ohio, January iQog. CHAPTER I. DANIEL DRAKE’S CHILDHOOD. Childhood shows the man, As morning shows the day. — Milton. T he story of the early advancement of medical learning and practice on our Eastern seaboard is interwoven with the names and labors of quite a few sturdy pioneers and men of genius. Benjamin Rush, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, a leader of men, and one of the greatest medical teachers the world has ever seen ; Eli juh H. Smith, a medical philosopher and humanitarian of rare attainments; David Hosack, a surgical genius and scholarly exponent of surgical science; Jacob Bigelow, that versatile educator and scientist; Nathan Smith, whom S. D. Gross calls the best all- around American physician of his time, and many other men of similar caliber, were blazing the paths of progress on behalf of medical science and of medical men in New England and throughout the Eastern parts of our country. The labors of these men were performed under comparatively favorable conditions. The East, socially and educationally, had already achieved a relatively high degree of development at that time. The opportunities for study and for the acquisition of an academic education were plentiful and quite equal to the European standard. Thus the early Eastern physicians, at least those who took a leading part in the development of American medicine, were educated men and not pioneers or self-made men in the crude sense of the term. In the West, however, where every foot of ground was wrested from the embrace of primitive nature and the banner of civilization was planted and reared by the hardened hands and stout hearts of heroic pioneers amid a vast empire of bar- barism, conditions were decidedly more crude and rugged, and the men repre- senting the advance guard of civilization were pioneers in name and in fact. The men who had come to the West to seek fortune and happiness on its virgin soil, disputing the problem of the survival of the fittest with the wily and bel- ligerent red man, did not bring with them a degree from Harvard or from the University of Pennsylvania or from one of the great seats of learning in the mother countries of Europe. They had nothing but the sweat of their brow and the products of brawn and brain to depend on. It does not seem strange, therefore, that the men who developed any particular line of human activity in the early history of our country were fewer in number in the wild West than they were in the more refined East. Yet, there were men of over- towering genius among these Western pioneers. Genius seems to thrive on crude soil quite as well, if not better, than on the culture-beds of civilization. Genius is an elementary force of nature, and is instinctively at war with the controlling and refining hand of convention and tradition. In the medical history of the West one colossal figure looms up in the very foreground. It is of such gigantic proportions that all else appears accidental and merely like a part of the stage-setting. Even when viewed through the aisles of time at a distance of many decades it appears as large and distinct as it did when it first emerged in the center of the stage of events. It is the figure of him who was the Father of Western Medicine, one of the greatest physicians America has produced, a patriot of the truest blue, a nobleman by nature, a scholar by ceaseless toil, the peer of any of the Eastern pioneers in medicine, the bearer of one of the most distinguished names in the intellectual history of our country — Daniel Drake. A recent writer, in an accurate and very readable sketch of this wonderful man, very aptly likens him to another example of Western genius, Abraham Lincoln. Like the great Chief Executive, Drake began life as the son of an uncultured, hard-working settler who could not give his son even ordinary advantages of training and education. Yet, both these poor farmer boys rose from their humble surroundings to positions of distinction and honor and became great in different spheres of activity. Daniel Drake was born on a farm near the present town of Plainfield, Essex County, New Jersey, October 20, 1785. When he was two and a-half years old, his parents joined a party of New Jersey farmers who were seeking new homes in the Western country. This was about the time when the first settlers were invading the vast and unknown territory West of the Alleghenies and were building the first log- cabins at what is now Marietta, Ohio. It was fully two years before a solitary block house had arisen on the site of Cincinnati. Daniel Drake’s father, Isaac Drake, with his wife and children, located in the wilds of Kentucky, twelve miles southwest of the present town of Maysville, and about seventy-five miles from Lexington. The name of the new settlement was Mayslick. Here it was where Daniel Drake grew up in the bosom of nature, the child of simple and pure-minded countryfolk. The year of Drake’s birth will ever remain memorable in the annals of American medicine. It was the birthyear of three other Americans who became leaders in their respective departments of medical science. William Beaumont, the great physiologist, whose name is inseparably connected with the case of Alexis St. Martin, was born in 1785 in Lebanon, Conn. He was the first American who seriously concerned himself about physiological prob- lems, and has not inappropriately been called the Father of American Physi- ology. Another great American that first saw the light of day in 1785 was Benjamin Winslow Dudley, whose achievements in genito-urinary surgery under primitive conditions of practice, have hardly been surpassed, even in our advanced day. His marvelous record as a lithotomist will always remain a source of pride to the profession of this country. He was a Virginian by 8 birth, but spent nearly all of his professional life in Lexington, Ky., as pro- fessor of surgery in the Medical Department of Transylvania University. He was fourteen years the junior of his great neighbor, Ephraim MacDowell, of Danville, Ky., whose name will for all times be linked with an act of scientific heroism never surpassed in the history of medicine. Still another famous product of the year 1785 was Valentine Mott, that prince among the early American surgeons, who, in 1818, ligated the innominate artery, and, as a result of this bold stroke, rose to one of the highest ranks among the sur- geons of his time. Thus we see that the year 1785 was particularly fertile in the production of eminent medical talent in this country. Benjamin Rush, who had not as yet reached the zenith of his fame, was in 1785, at the age of 40, teaching chemistry in the University of Pennsylvania. P. S. Physick, John Hunter’s favorite American pupil, generally referred to as the Patriarch of American Surgery, graduated from the academic department of the Uni- versity of Pennsylvania in 1785. It seems that the whole decade was a fruitful one for American medicine. John Eberle, one of the founders of Jefferson Medical College, and afterwards a distinguished teacher of practice in the Medical College of Ohio, was born two years after Daniel Drake. The following year (1788) saw the birth of William Gibson, that eminent American physician who was a marvel of versatility and was conspicuous on this account among his confreres on both sides of the Atlantic. Daniel Drake’s people were among the poorest of the poor. When Isaac Drake and those who depended on him, arrived in the thick forest where he ~- expected to wrest a home and an existence out of the clenched hands of the wilderness, his fortune' consisted of just one dollar, which was at that time the price of a bushel of corn. Edward D. Mansfield, who was a cousin of Daniel Drake’s wife and for many years an honored citizen of Cincinnati, wrote, in 1854, two years after Drake’s death, a very readable biography of Drake. In referring to those primitive days in the Kentucky forests where young Daniel spent his childhood, Mansfield states that the first residence of the family was in a ‘‘covered pen,” built for sheep, on the ground of its owner. The smallness of his estate may be gathered from the fact, that when a com- pany of emigrants — five families — purchased a tract of fourteen hundred acres of land, to be divided among them, according to their respective payments, his share was only thirty-eight acres, which he subsequently increased to fifty. There he resided six years, till in the autumn of 1794, he purchased another farm of two hundred acres, to the neighborhood of which he removed. The new farm was an unbroken forest which had to be cleared, and the log cabin built. (Mansfield.) Of those early pioneer times in Kentucky, Drake has left a written record so inimitably beautiful and characteristic that I may be permitted to quote from it. In his declining years, from 1840 to shortly before his death, Drake, who was then living in Louisville and teaching at the Louisville Medical Institute, loved to dwell on the memories of the distant past, and in his reniiniscential 9 mood penned many letters to his children. In these letters he pictures the conditions under which his childhood was spent, the hardships of early pioneer times in Kentucky, the struggles for existence, the habits and customs of the simple. God-fearing people in whose midst he grew up, their sorrows and innocent pleasures. Charles D. Drake, a distinguished member of the bar in Missouri, gathered these letters written by his father. Dr. Drake, and pub- lished them in 1870 under the title: “Pioneer Life in Kentucky. A series of reminiscential letters from Daniel Drake, M.D., of Cincinnati, to his chil- dren/' These letters, written in quaint and naive style, full of pathos and humor, are well worth perusal. Drake informs us that he was the second child of his parents, the first one, a daughter, having died in infancy. His father was operating a gristmill and doing a little farming near Plainfield, N. J. The Drakes were not doing very well and thought of moving to Virginia, but changed their minds in favor of Kentucky, where a colony of Baptists, who originally hailed from New Jersey, had settled and was prospering. About that time many farmers from Virginia and Maryland were moving into Kentucky which, since its first settlement, in 1778, was attracting more attention than any other part of the Western country. Old Mr. Drake decided to begin life over again, and, with all the earthly belongings of the family crowded into one two-horse Jersey wagon, which also accommodated the family, started out for his new home in Ken- tucky. The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Drake, young Daniel, then two years and seven months old, his little sister, who was an infant at the breast, and an unmarried sister of Mrs. Drake. The wagon was hauled by two horses over the steep and rugged Allegheny mountains and thoughout an overland journey of nearly four hundred miles. The remaining portion of the trip was by boat. Among other New Jersey emigrants who came West at the time when the Drakes settled in Kentucky, were a number of people whose names became prominently identified with the history of Cincinnati, particu- larly John S. Gano, who settled in Columbia, now a suburb of Cincinnati, and Dr. Wm. Goforth, Gano’s brother-in-law, who eventually became Daniel Drake’s preceptor. Daniel Drake’s ancestors had been illiterate farmers, to fortune and to fame unknown, but they were industrious, honest, temperate and pious. To spring from such ancestry, as he often remarked, is high descent in the sight of heaven, if not in the estimation of man. Both his grandfathers had lived in the very midst of the battle scenes of the Colonies’ struggle for freedom. Daniel’s father and mother were typical countryfolk, of the plain, good old- fashioned Baptist type. Drake speaks of his father as a man of inflexible righteousness, industrious, rather progressive, not without business ability, and devoted to his family. The references to his mother are touching in the extreme. Drake speaks of her tenderness and sweet disposition, the merry twinkle in her eye, her unceasing care for her family. He humorously em- phasizes the fact that he inherited two traits from his exemplary mother: 10 the ease with which he could shed tears and the irresistible desire to fall asleep in church. Daniel’s childhood days, as already indicated, were spent in a log cabin such as poor country people used to put up and occupy in the early pioneer times of Kentucky. A log cabin, as the name implies, was “built of logs, generally unhewn, with a puncheon floor below and a clapboard floor above, a small square window without glass, a chimney of ‘cats and clay,’ and a coarse roof. It consisted generally of one apartment, which served as sitting- room, dining-room, and kitchen. Here the family lived in peace and content- ment in a little world of their own, their only enemies being the elements of Nature or perhaps the restless redskins that were receding before the advance of civilization.” Drake often tenderly referred to the sweet and pure family life in that log cabin where everybody was poor and yet happy. They knew nothing of the hate and envy, the troubles and tribulations of society, the miserable smallness and perfidy of man in the larger towns and cities. And the center of the happy family in that coarse log cabin was that personification of goodness and sweetness, Daniel’s mother, the thought of whom seemed to grow in inspiration to the son as the years rolled on. Drake’s example shows the early and lasting effect of the association with a good mother on the char- acter of a boy. Granting that heredity and environment make or break character, it is an undeniable fact that the early maternal influence represents the lion’s share of what we include in environment, because of its early, deep, and, therefore, lasting effect. That beautiful spirit of chivalry towards women and, for that matter, towards men even if they were enemies, which was so characteristic of Drake throughout his, whole life, was the work of a good mother. It seems that a boy who has the good fortune of having been reared by the tender hand of a good mother, should always be a good man, if only to pay back that early incurred debt of gratitude to the memory of her who gave him life and character. Daniel received his first schooling at the hands of itinerant schoolmasters, who would establish themselves in a conveniently-located log cabin and teach the children of the nearby settlers the elements of reading and writing, with a little arithmetic thrown in. These schoolmasters were by no means pedagogues by vocation. They were tramps whose peripatetic tendencies would awaken whenever the first balmy breezes of Spring made it comfortable to roam through the country. Sometimes a preacher without a flock would appear among the settlers, remain for an indefinite period and divide his time between administering spiritual advice to the grown people and teaching the young folks how to read and write. Young Daniel must have been an apt scholar, because at the age of seven he was a pretty fair reader. When he was nine years old, his father moved to a larger place, and, being too poor to hire a laborer and not being very robust himself, the father had to depend on the assistance which the son might be able to render. Young Daniel was a strong boy and only too glad to help his father. Instead of continuing his lessons he 11 had to take a hand in clearing the forest and preparing a place for the new cabin. Thus the next two years were given to hard labor, sharing his father’s work and troubles in every particular. After two years Daniel was able to resume his studies under the guidance of an itinerant instructor who hailed from Maryland and opened a regular school in the Mayslick district. We have seen that Drake’s early years were spent in close communion with Nature. To his young and imaginative mind every little spot in the landscape was invested with peculiar beauty and meaning, the song of every little bird in the forest had its own melodious language. What to an ordinary observer was barren and unattractive, was to him a source of ineffable interest and delight, says S. D. Gross. “In the Spring and Summer the surface of the earth was carpeted with richest verdure and strewn with myriads of wild flowers, whose balmy fragrance seemed to ascend like sweet-scented incense to the throne of the Almighty, while their gay raiment in its variety of color, and rendered brighter and more radiant by the rays of the morning sun, delighted the clear eye and unspoilt heart of the lad. The ancient elms and poplars and other mighty denizens of the woodland had donned their richest garb, while amid their majestic silence thousands of winged songsters were stirring the heart with their tuneful lays.” The impressions thus made on the boy’s mind during the formative period of his life, i. e., his early adolescence, were the elements out of which the mind of the future man was constructed. Drake was an eminent naturalist and became a great physician because of that fact. He learned to love Nature early in life and tried to understand the things which in the days of his childhood he had learnt to love. This is what made Drake a student of Nature, and gave him such power as a man of affairs in the building up of the great West. With a keen and open eye and a heart full of love for the beautiful things that abound in Nature’s vast domain, he coupled an inquiring mind that was not satisfied to wonder and marvel, but that approached the problems and mysteries of the air, the soil, and the water with a desire and a determination to solve the riddles and to know the truth. Thus we see how the foundation to Drake’s subsequent career of greatness was laid. His greatest work outside of his strictly medical achievements was undoubtedly that remarkable book about Cincinnati (“Picture of Cincinnati”) which he published when he was hardly thirty years of age. It was the logical evolution of the elements of knowledge and discerning power which were brought out in his early training as a country lad in old Kentucky. A brother of Drake’s father, Cornelius Drake, had settled near the place where the Drakes were living. He was a tavern-keeper and conducted a general store. Pie was a prosperous business man, and in 1796 sent his son John, a young man probably six years older than Daniel, to Dr. Wm. Goforth, who was practicing medicine in Washington, Ky. Young John Drake remained with Dr. Goforth three years, continuing his studies at the University of Pennsylvania. John Drake was a good student and always spent his vacation on his father’s place. Daniel, his cousin, who was then about twelve or thir- 12 teen years old, became greatly interested in the books of his cousin John and made up his mind to become a doctor. With that zeal and determination which was characteristic of him, he set about to make up for the defects in his edu- cation. He devoted every spare moment to study, mostly by reading books that — in some manner or other — he managed to secure. His father favored the idea of Daniel becoming a doctor, and encouraged him in every imaginable way. It was intended that John Drake should locate in Mayslick, and that Daniel should study under him. Unfortunately for the plan, John Drake died about the time of his graduation. His death was directly instrumental in bringing Daniel Drake to Cincinnati. Had John Drake lived, Daniel would have become a country doctor in Kentucky, and Cincinnati would have lost the pioneer work of its most distinguished citizen. The early training of a mastermind like Drake’s is of peculiar interest. It would seem that all the circumstances surrounding the lad during the first fifteen years of his life were unfavorable to anything but the most ordinary development of his mental powers. In spite of this the boy laid the founda- tion of a most extraordinary intellectual superstructure. Drake, in the full maturity of his mental prowess, was not what is ordinarily called a “bright man.” To use such an expression in connection with Drake’s intellect would be trivial and commonplace; I am almost tempted to say sacrilegious. Drake was a genius of the first magnitude and ranks with Humboldt and Agassiz. Yet his early advantages were meager in the extreme. But he had that God- given determination to work and win. When we think of the carefully system- atized courses of study that are nowadays mapped out for the college boys who are to be the doctors and scientists of the future, and then consider the motley mixture of books that constituted old Isaac Drake’s library and gave to young Daniel all his preliminary education, we are forced to acknowledge the supremacy of the will in the struggle with Destiny. Young Drake believed in his own predestination as a superior man. His life shows that confidence and implicit belief in self is an invincible power which in man’s fight against Fate itself spells Victory. This should be an inspiration to many a poor boy who is facing the world with no assets except his willingness to work and his determination to win. Drake’s example should encourage every struggling - beginner in medicine, and banish the evil spirits of faintness and despair from the youthful heart. Isaac Drake’s library was neither large nor select. It consisted of a family Bible, Rippon’s Hymns, Watts’ Hymns for Children, the Pilgrim’s Progress, an old Romance of the days of Knight Errantry, primers, with a plate repre- senting John Rogers at the stake, spelling books, an arithmetic, and an almanac for the new year. As he grew up, he met with Guthrie’s Grammar of Geography, Entick’s Dictionary, Scott’s Lessons, Aesop’s Eables, the Life of Eranklin, and Lord Chesterfield’s Letters to his Son, the latter of which he greatly prized. Once in awhile a number of the Palladium^ a newspaper pub- lished at Washington, Ky., fell into the boy’s hands, always afifording him much gratification. ^3 Thus it will be seen, says S. D. Gross in his beautiful eulogy of Drake, that his Alma Mater was the forest, his teacher Nature, his classmates birds, squirrels and wild flowers. Until the commencement of his sixteenth year, when he left home to study medicine, he had never been beyond the confines of the settlement at Mayslick, and it was not until his twentieth year, when he went to Philadelphia to attend lectures, that he saw a large city. The “Queen of the West,” as Cincinnati was afterwards styled, was then a mere hamlet, with hardly a few thousand inhabitants. Kentucky, at that early day, had but one University, and although it was hardly fifty miles from his doors (Lexington), his father was too poor to send him thither. If Daniel Drake’s mental education has been meager and fragmentary, his heart, the legacy of a good ancestry, had acquired the culture that was so characteristic of the mature^ man. S. D. Gross, who even in Drake’s life- time looked upon Drake as one of the greatest men in America, tells us that at no time in his long and eventful life did his sweet, childlike, warm tempera- ment show itself so beautifully as on the occasion of his visit to the old log cabin, almost fifty years after he had left it to go to Cincinnati to study medi- cine. “It was to this spot that the boy, now in the evening of his full and perfect manhood, turns his longing eye, anxious once more to behold the home of his early childhood. He stands before the lone and primitive cabin of his father in which used to dwell all that were near and dear to him. The latch- string is off the door; the hearth no longer emits its accustomed light and heat; weeds and briars grow around and obstruct the entrance; no familiar voices are heard to greet and welcome the stranger; all is still and silent as the grave in God’s acre close by. The birds no longer salute him with their merry music; the squirrel, whose gambols he was wont to watch with such peculiar fondness when a boy, is no longer there; even the tall and weather- beaten elm no longer greets him. All around is silence and desolation. Upon the ‘door-cheeks’ of the cabin he discovers the initials of his own name, which he had inscribed there with his rude penknife fifty years before ! — silent wit- nesses of the past, reluctant to be effaced by time. As he looked around and surveyed the changes which half the century had wrought in the landscape before him, a feeling of awe and melancholy, unutterable and indescribable, seized his soul, and the sage of three-score years, the medical philosopher, the acknowledged head of his profession in the great valley of the Mississippi, was instantly transmuted into a boy of fifteen. Every feeling was unmanned, and tears, warm and burning, gushed from the fountains of his soul. The whole scene of his childhood was vividly before him; the manly form of his father, the meek and gentle features of his mother, the light and sportive figures of his brothers and sisters, stood forth in bold relief, and painfully reminded him of the vanity and instability of all earthly things. Of the whole family group, eight in number, which was wont to assemble around the bright and burning hearth, he alone remained to visit that tenantless and desolate home of his childhood.” 14 CHAPTER IL DRAKE AS A MEDICAL STUDENT. D aniel drake was predestined for the medical profession by his father. The latter, we are told by those who knew him, was gentleman by nature and a Christian from convictions produced by a simple and unaffected study of the Word of God. His poverty he regretted, his ignorance he deplored. His natural instincts were to knowledge, refine- ment, and honorable influences in the affairs of the world. In consulting the tradition of the family, he found no higher condition than his own, as their lot in past times ; but he had formed a conception of something more elevated, and resolved on its attainment, — not for himself and mother, nor for all his children, for either would have been impossible; but for some member of the family. He would make a beginning; he would set his face towards the land of promise, although, like Moses, he himself should never enter it.” He had never had the advantages of a genteel education, but he was determined that his Dan, as he affectionately called his son, should have them. Daniel was* fifteen years old when his father decided that he was old enough to begin his medical studies in earnest. In referring to the times when the Drakes settled in Kentucky, I men- tioned the name of Dr. Wm. Goforth as having been one of the party who arrived in Kentucky with the Drake family. He also hailed from New Jersey and settled in Washington, Ky., where he remained until the year 1799, when he joined other members of his family who were living in Columbia, near Cincinnati. In 1800 he removed to Cincinnati. Isaac Drake made the ac- quaintance of Dr. Goforth in 1788 during their long and tedious voyage down the Ohio River. Drake, Sr., while he found fault with some weak points in Dr. Goforth’s character, admired his knowledge, and believed him to be a great physician. Half jokingly, half in earnest, he told Dr. Goforth that Daniel, then not quite three years old, should some day become a doctor, and that Dr. Goforth should be his teacher. It was probably in consequence of this early promise that the son often went by the sobriquet of ‘‘Dr. Drake” long before he knew anything about medicine. His father courageously per- severed in his cherished plan, and went to Cincinnati for the express purpose of seeing Dr. Goforth and arranging the terms of apprenticeship for Daniel. When the day arrived for Daniel to take his leave, his relatives and neigh- bors gathered at “Uncle Isaacs” to bid Daniel /Godspeed. The neighbors all liked Daniel and did not begrudge him his luck to be a doctor, a real gentle- 15 man and lead a life of ease, elegance and gentility. This was their idea of a doctor’s life. The young maidens wept and old ladies were not sparing in their good advice to Daniel. They cautioned him against being too proud. Uncle Cornelius, who had some knowledge of the world, spoke of the bad young men that were rather plentiful in “Cin,” as they called Cincinnati in those days. All wished Daniel success and amid the good wishes of his friends and neighbors he set out on horseback for Fort Washington on the 16th of De- cember, 1800, accompanied by his father and a neighbor. As he was slowly riding away, he looked back and caught the last greetings and words of encour- agement that came out of the heart and from the lips of his good mother. Two days later the party arrived in Cincinnati, and Daniel presented himself at the house of Dr. Goforth, his preceptor. The arrangement which Isaac Drake had made with Dr. Goforth, was that Daniel should live in his pre- ceptor’s family, and that he should remain with him four years, at the end of which he was to be transmuted into a doctor. It was also agreed between the parties that he should be sent to school two quarters, that he might learn the Latin language, which, up to that time, he had wholly neglected. For his services and board, the preceptor was to receive $400, a tolerably large sum, considering the limited resources of Daniel’s father. Dr. Goforth was the most prominent physician in Cincinnati, and, being socially well connected, was one of the foremost citizens. He was a unique character, dignified, aristocratic, a typical gentleman of colonial times. Con- sidering all this, he must have been strangely at variance with the crude and primitive conditions that characterized the early pioneer times in the Western country at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Daniel Drake always retained a lively and grateful recollection of his preceptor, and has given us such a masterful sketch of him that I could not do any better than to repro- duce the greater portion of it : Dr. William Goforth, under whom Daniel Drake now began his appren- ticeship as a medical student, was born in New York in 1766. His preparatory education was what may be called tolerably good. His private preceptor was Dr. Joseph Young, of that city, a physician of some eminence, who, in the year 1800, published a small volume on the universal diffusion of electricity, and its agency in astronomy, physiology and therapeutics, speculations which his pupil cherished throughout life. But young Goforth also enjoyed the more substantial teachings of that distinguished anatomist and surgeon. Dr. Charles McKnight, then a public lecturer in New York. In their midst, how- ever, A. D. 1787-88, he and the other students of the forming school of that city, were dispersed by a mob, raised against the cultivation of anatomy. He at once resolved to accompany his brother-in-law, Gen. John S. Gano, into the West; and on the 10th of June, 1788, landed at Maysville, Ky., then called Limestone. Settling in Washington, four miles from the river, then in population the second town of Kentucky, he soon acquired great popularity, and had the chief business of the county for eleven years. Fond of change, 16 he determined then to leave it; and in 1799 reached Columbia, where his father, Judge Goforth, one of the earliest and most distinguished pioneers of Ohio, resided. In the Spring of the next year, 1800, he removed to Cincin- nati, and occupied the Peach-Grove House vacated by Dr. Allison’s removal to the country. Bringing with him a high reputation, having an influential family connection, and being the successor of Dr. Allison, he immediately acquired an extensive practice. But without these advantages he would have gotten business, for, on the whole, he had the most winning manners of any physician in the town and the most of them. They were all his own, for in deportment he was quite an original. The painstaking and respectful courtesy with which he treated the poorest and humblest people of the village, seemed to secure their gratitude ; and the more especially as he dressed with precision, and never left his house in the morning till his hair was powdered by an itinerant barber, John Arthurs, and his gold-headed cane was grasped by his gloved hand. His kindness of heart was as much a part of his nature, as hair-powder was of his costume ; and what might not be given through benev- olence, could always be extracted by flattery, coupled with professions of* friendship, the sincerity of which he never questioned. In conversation he was precise yet fluent, and abounded in anecdotes which he told in a way that others could not imitate. He took a warm interest in the politics of what was then the Northwest Territory, being at all times the advocate of popular rights. His devotion to Masonry, a cherished institution of the village, was such that he always embellished his signature with some of its emblems. His hand- writing was peculiar but so remarkably plain that his poor patients felt flattered to think that he should have taken so much pains in writing for them. In this part of his character many of us might find a useful example. Dr. Goforth is usually credited with being the first one in the West who practiced vaccination. Dr. Benjamin Waterhouse, of Boston, received cow- pock from England in 1800. The following year Dr. Goforth obtained a supply of it and began to use it. Daniel Drake was the first one who sub- mitted to vaccination in Cincinnati. At the time Dr. Goforth was educated in New York, the writings of Dr. Cullen had not superseded those of Boerhaave, into whose system he had been inducted. Yet the captivating volume of Brown had fallen into his hands, and he was so far a Brunonian as to cherish an exceeding hostility to the copious depleting practice of Dr. Rush, which came into vogue in the beginning of the last century. In fact, he would neither buy nor read the writings of that eminent man. Yet his practice was not that of Brown; though it included stimulants and excluded evacuants, in many cases, in which others might have reversed those terms. In looking back to its results, Drake said, that in all, except the most acute forms of disease, Goforth’s success was creditable to his sagacity and tact. Fond of schemes and novelties, in the spring of the year 1803, at a great expense, he dug up, at Bigbone Lick, in Kentucky, and brought away the 17 largest, most diversified, and remarkable mass of huge fossil bones that was ever disinterred at one time or place in the United States; the whole of which he put into the possession of that swindling Englishman, Thomas Ashe, alias Arville, who sold them in Europe and embezzled the proceeds. Dr. Goforth was the special patron of all who, in the olden times, were engaged in searching for the precious metals in the surrounding wilderness. They brought their specimens of pyrites and blends to him, and generally con- trived to quarter themselves on his family, while he got the requisite analysis made by some black- or silversmith. In these researches Blennerism or the turning of the forked stick, held by its prongs, was regarded as a reliable means of discovering the precious metals not less than water. There was also in the village a man by the name of Hall, who possessed a glass through which he could see many thousand feet into the earth. The clarification of ginseng and its shipment to China was, at the beginning of the last century, a popular scheme, in which Dr. Goforth eagerly partici- pated ; but realized by it much less than those who have since extracted from that root an infallible cure for tubercular consumption. This failure, however, did not cast him down ; for about the time it occurred, the genuine East India Columbo root was supposed to be discovered in our surrounding woods ; and he immediately lent a hand to the preparation of that article for the market. It turned out, however, to be the Erasera verticillata, long known to the bot- anists of those days, and essentially distinct from the oriental bitter. While these various projects were keeping the Doctor’s imagination in a state of high and pleasurable excitement, he became enamored with the Mad River country, to which in the very infancy of its settlement he had paid a winter visit. Beyond where Urbana has been since built, was the Indian vil- lage of Mechacheck, at which he arrived at night expecting to find inhabitants. He found none, and being without the means of kindling a fire and unable to travel back in the dark, he came near perishing from the cold. Subsequently he made another visit in the month of June and took Drake with him. It required five days to reach King’s Creek, a few miles beyond the present Urbana, which then had but one house and Springfield another. The natural scenery after passing the village of Dayton was of such exquisite beauty that Dr. Goforth was quite determined to spend the rest of his days there. The time at length arrived when young Cincinnati was to lose the most popular and peculiar physician who had appeared in the ranks of her infant profession, or perhaps ever belonged to it, and the motives and manner of the separation were in keeping with his general character. The Erench Revo- lution of 1789 had exiled many educated and accomplished men and women, several of whom found their way into the new settlements of the West. The Doctor’s political sympathies were with the Revolutionists, but some of the exiles reached the town of Washington, Ky., where he resided, and their manners and sufferings triumphed over his repugnance to aristocracy, till pictures of the beauty and elegance of French society began to fill his imagina- 18 tion. Thus impressed he came to Cincinnati, where Masonry soon made him acquainted with an exiled lawyer of Paris, who resided on the corner of Walnut and Third Streets, where the Masonic Temple now stands. This gentleman, M. Mennesier, planted a large vineyard, and carried on a bakery in the lower story of his house while the upper was the lodge of Nova Caesarea Harmony No. 2. The Doctor’s association with this member of the beau monde, of course, raised his admiration for Gallic politeness still higher; and just at the time when he began, in feeling, to prefer French to Anglo-American society, President Jef¥erson purchased Louisiana from Bonaparte, first consul of the Republique Frangaise. The enchanting prairies of Mad River were now for- gotten, and he began to prepare for a Southern migration. Early in the Spring WinniAM Goforth. of 1807, he departed in a flatboat for the coasts and bayous of the lower Mississippi, where he was soon appointed a parish judge, and subsequently elected by the Creoles of Attacapas to represent them in forming the first Constitution of the State of Louisiana ; soon after which he removed to New Orleans. During the invasion of that city by the British, he acted as surgeon to one of the regiments of Louisiana Volunteers. By this time his taste for French manners had been satisfied, and he determined to return to the city which he had left in opposition to the wishes of all his friends and patients. On the first of May, 1816, he left New Orleans, with his family, on a keel boat; and on the 28th of the next December, after a voyage of eight months, he reached our landing. He immediately re-acquired business ; but in the following spring he perished from hepatitis, contracted by his summer sojourn on the river. (Drake.) Under this popular, eccentric but well-meaning medical gentleman, Daniel Drake served his apprenticeship in medicine. His duties were to read Dr. Goforth’s medical books, to compound medicines under his preceptor’s direc- tions and to run errands for the Doctor. He had to deliver medicines and 19 informs us in a delightful description of his early student days (given before the Medical Library Association in 1852, only a few months before his death) that in delivering medicines to his preceptor’s patients he often had to cover considerable distances, even as far West as the present corner of Sixth and Vine Streets. This was, at that time, outside of the town proper. Daniel Drake began his studies four days after he left home. “My first assigned duties,” he narrates, “were to read Quincy’s dispensatory and grind quicksilver into unguentum mercuriale ; the latter of which, from previous practice on a Kentucky handmill, I found much the easier of the two. But few of you have seen the genuine, old doctor’s shop of the last century, or regaled your olfactory nerves in the mingled odors which, like incense to the God of Physic, rose from brown paper bundles, bottles stopped with worm- eaten corks, and open jars of ointment, not a whit behind those of the apoth- ecary in the days of Solomon ; yet such a place is very well for a student. However idle, he will be always absorbing a little medicine; especially if he sleeps beneath the greasy counter. It was my allotted task to commit to memory Chesselden on the bones, and Innes on the muscles, without specimens of the former or plates of the latter; and afterwards to meander the currents of the humoral pathology of Boerhaave and Vansweiten; without having studied the chemistry of Chaptal, the physiology of Haller or the materia medica of Cullen.” While thus busily engaged, he often wrote to his parents, telling them of his progress and prospects. From his letters it would appear that he seriously thought of returning home after finishing his course of study. With a happy anticipation he looked forward to the time when he could again live in the old home, practicing his profession and comforting his parents in their old age. His life, while in Cincinnati, was exemplary in every respect. Through Dr. Stites, a bright young physician, who came from New York to Cincinnati, and in 1802 became Dr. Goforth’s partner, Drake became ac- quainted with the writings of Benjamin Rush, whom his preceptor. Dr. Go- forth, heartily despised. Drake studied the forbidden books and indirectly won Dr. Goforth over to the new teachings of Rush. Dr. Goforth thought so much of his talented pupil that in 1804, when Drake was hardly nineteen years of age, he made him a full-fledged partner. Drake now assumed his share in the hardships and responsibilities of practice. That the practice of medicine in those early days in Cincinnati was not an unalloyed boon, would appear from Drake’s graphic description of the hardships of practice in those early times: “Every physician was then a country practitioner, and often rode twelve or fifteen miles on bridle paths to some isolated cabin. Occasional rides of twenty and even thirty miles were performed on horseback, on roads which no kind of carriage could travel over. I recollect that my preceptor started early, in a freezing night, to visit a patient eleven miles in the country. The road was rough, the night dark, and the horse brought for him not (as he 20 thought) g-entle; whereupon he dismounted after he got out of the village, and, putting the bridle into the hands of the messenger, reached his patient before day on foot. The ordinary charge was twenty-five cents a mile, one- half being deducted, and the other being paid in provender for his horse, or produce for his family. These pioneers, moreover, were their own bleeders and cuppers, and practiced dentistry, not less, certainly, than physic, charged a quarter of a dollar for extracting a tooth, with an understood deduction if two or more were drawn at the same time. In plugging teeth, tinfoil was used instead of gold leaf, and had the advantage of not showing so con- spicuously, Still, further, for the first twelve or fifteen years, every physician was his own apothecary, and ordered little importations of cheap and inferior medicines by the dry goods merchants once a year, taking care to move in the matter long before they were needed. Mr. James Ferguson, a volunteer in Harmar’s campaign, began mercantile business near the corner of Third and Sycamore Streets in 1792. The only road to Philadelphia was then through Lexington, Danville and Crab Orchard to Cumberland Gap, nearly south, across the broadest part of Kentucky; then northeast, through Abington, Staunton and Winchester, Virginia, by Baltimore, to the city which supplied us with medicines, not less than every other article of merchandise. From twenty-five to thirty days was the required time of transportation from Phil- adelphia to Brownsville, and as much more by the river to Cincinnati. Thus, from four to five months was required for the importation of a medicine, which, at this time, being ordered by telegraph and sent by express, may be received in two days, or a sixtieth part of the time. Thus science has length- ened seconds into minutes. The prices at which these medicines were sold, differed widely from those of the present day. Thus an emetic, a Dover’s powder, a dose of Glauber’s salt, or a night draught of Paregoric and Antimonial Wine, haustus anodynus, as it was learnedly called, was put up at twenty-five cents, a vermifuge or blister at fifty, and an ounce of Peruvian bark at seventy-five for pale and a dollar for the best red or yellow. On the other hand personal services were valued very low. For bleeding, twenty- five cents; for sitting up all night, a dollar, and for a visit, from twenty-five to fifty cents, according to the circumstances or character of the patient.” “Many articles in common use then, have in half a century been super- seded or fallen more or less into neglect. I can recollect Balsam of Sulphur, Balsam of Peru, Balsam Tolu, Glauber’s Salt, Flowers of Benzoin, Fluxham’s Tincture, Spermaceti (for internal use), Melampodium, Flowers of Zinc, Ammoniaret of Copper, Dragon’s Blood, Elemi, Gamboge, Bitter Apple, Nux Vomica, and Red, Pale and Yellow Bark. On the other hand, we have gained since that day, the various Salts of Quinine and Morphine, Strychnine, Creosote, Iodine and its preparations. Hydrocyanic Acid, Ergot, Collodion, Sulphate of Magnesia and Chloroform.” “Indeed, in half a century our materia medica has undergone a decided change, partly by the discovery of new articles, and partly by the extraction of the active principles of the old.” 21 There were several reasons that prompted young Drake to take a rather gloomy view of his early impressions as a practitioner of medicine. The total unfitness of the average physician for a business-like management of his affairs seems to have been as true in the early medical annals of Cincin- nati as it is to-day. A good physician is hardly ever a good business man. Another fact seems to have been as familiar to the physicians of early Cin- cinnati, as it is to the doctors of to-day. I suppose it is a familiar phenomenon the world over. The doctor is an angel of mercy when he appears at the bedside of his patient, ready and anxious to relieve suffering and dispute every inch of ground in the battle with death. After the patient has recov- ered, the doctor, with bill in hand for services rendered, is quickly meta- morphosed into a demon incarnate. Patients who owe health and life to the skill and loyalty of the physician, seem to suffer from a sudden loss of memory. All obligations, all debts of gratitude are forgotten. The doctor can live on the breezes of heaven and the dew of the earth. Drake, in a letter to his father in 1804, three months after he had become Dr. Goforth’s partner, speaks of the rapid increase in their business. They enter from $3 to $6 on their books every day, but it is doubtful whether 25 - per cent of this will ever be collected. He continues as follows : ‘'The Doctor trusts every one who comes, as usual. I can get but a small share in the management of our accounts, or they would be conducted more to our advantage. I have not had three dollars in money since I came down, but I hope it will be different with me after a while. An execution against the doctor, for the medicine he got three years since, was issued a few days ago, and must be levied and returned before the next general court, which commences the first of September. This execution has thrown us all topsy- turvy. The doctor has given his accounts, (up to the time our partnership commenced), which amount to eight or nine hundred dollars, to the con- stable for collection. He has done nothing yet, though he has had them nearly two months.” After giving some other details, he adds: ‘T am heartily sick and tired of living in the midst of so much difficulty and embarrassment; and almost wish sometimes I had never engaged in partnership with him, for his medicine is so nearly gone that we can scarcely make out to practice, even by buying all we are able to buy. In addition to this, it gives me great unhappiness to see him in such deplorable situation. I get but little time to study nowadays, for I have to act the part of both physician and student, and likewise assist him every day in settling his accounts.” In another letter to his father Drake complains bitterly about his lack of funds being in the way of his progress. He wants to buy books, and has no money to do it with. Yet he is determined not to borrow any money. In his letters to his parents he frequently refers to the prominent people he has met and to the many acts of kindness extended to him by some of them. Dr. Goforth was a very popular man among the best people in the 22 town, and introduced his young, bright and gentlemanly associate to every- body. In this way Drake became acquainted with such people as Judge John Cleves Symmes, the patentee and proprietor of the Miami Valley; Lieutenant (afterwards General and President) Wm. H. Harrison, who had married the daughter of Judge Symmes; Mr. (afterwards General) Findley, Receiver of Public Moneys; General Gano, long Clerk of the Courts; Mr. (afterwards Judge) Burnet; Arthur St. Clair, Ethan Stone, Nicholas Longworth, etc., members of the bar; Drs. Allison, Burnet, Sellmann, physicians; the Rev. Messrs. Wallace and Kemper, Presbyterian clergymen; Colonel John S. Wal- lace, Major Ziegler; Messrs. Baum, Dugan, Stanley, Hunt, Wade, Kilgour, Spencer, Symmes, Yeatman, Griffin and others. Many of these were highly cultured gentlemen, who had had the advantages of an Eastern education and European travel. All of them were wide-awake, public-spirited citizens and the intellectual, political and financial leaders in this part of the country. That Drake began at an early age to take an interest in public affairs is evident from the many references in these letters to political questions and events. He was an enthusiastic admirer of Thomas Jefferson, who was in 1804 elected President for the second time. His profession, of course, occupied the lion’s share of his time and interest. The writings of Benjamin Rush had affected him mightily, and aroused in him the desire to go to Philadelphia and attend the lectures of the great men who were members of the faculty there, the versatile Rush, the renowned anatomist Wistar, the learned chemist Woodhouse, the distinguished nat- uralist Barton, and Dr. Physick, who enjoyed a national reputation as a surgeon. He stated his wishes to his friend Goforth, who rather favored the plan. Dr. Goforth gave him some money as also did his father, Isaac Drake, and a friend, a Mr. Taylor, who thoroughly approved of the young man’_s ambition and offered to help him. Dr. Goforth, in the Summer of 1805, presented young Drake with a diploma, setting forth the young man’s zeal and ability in the various branches of medical practice. The diploma and its duplicate are shown in the accom- panying illustrations, which were made from the still existing originals. Dr. Goforth signed the diploma as “Surgeon General of the First Division of the Ohio Militia,” a position which he really held, although the responsibility of the task was by no means as great as the full-sounding title would lead us to believe. This diploma was the first ever conferred on a Cincinnati student and the first issued west of the Alleghenies on any student of medicine. Drake held this diploma in high esteem and practiced by its authority. The granting of it was prompted by Dr. Goforth’s great confidence in Drake’s ability and splendid character. Equipped with his diploma and lots of enthu- siasm, but painfully little money, Drake started for Philadelphia, arriving there November 9, 1805 after an irksome and tedious journey. His trip to and stay in Philadelphia were of incalculable benefit to him. He practiced strictest economy, attended lectures, studied hard, gave but little time to 23 - -iSmU Xm . . /^’r/au-r /^car,s. '.n// - Ai,i yA ^AyJ-a'', :t///;yi’'^y. - nau^y/y ,^c-(^r/ //'//^//tj ,y^rrx/,W . A/xyAyy’^y^^' /Ae '^vy^JO^ ri'/y/yyy/y ay//aJ j/Tei/yeyS, ay/yy Coyyyyyyy/Vid, /Aat Ac ej, y/^y/Y ^yy a /y//<'cA /^ /J-y'^c: Acc c yyi /Ay yiYcfc Ay-yy //i-Aiy^ j/. A(J A A ' ■ y / \ / / - ^ ^ ^ , Cc ' -y^L' y //^ ' Jyr^'A ^/i> y t ■ iV.t. ,Jk'4^ /lYzS pursuxcc/ un/Zer ?7i)/ Y/trecii//n ^ /hr ^ fau r //le J7//rAy ^/'PhyG-C, Sui rgeiy,^^lidwi£rj. FrOTTi hiyS 0^0 oi^ced ^ P. ed ^icaA^edAop?'acAcr m 1,5 d A^ra^y^cA^es. Aa'AAA 24 amusement and diversion and after about five months returned to Cincin- nati (April, 1806). He had seen the world and had gathered new and diversi- fied impressions in many respects. He was a mature man when he returned to the office of Dr. Goforth. The latter was contemplating a trip to New Orleans and did not conceal the fact that he might remain in the South, if things suited him. Drake did not care to practice in Cincinnati without Goforth and went to Mayslick where his aging parents received him with open arms. He remained in the old home until April, 1807, practicing his profession. He soon realized that he would not be able to bury his enthusiasm and ambition in the little Kentucky village. Dr. Goforth wrote him to come to Cincinnati and take charge of his office during his absence. Drake could not resist the invitation. He told his parents to prepare to follow him to Cincinnati, and, having received their promise, he returned to Cincinnati, accompanied by his younger brother Benjamin, whom he placed in the care of a private tutor. Benjamin was a talented young man, who made rapid progress and within a few years rose to a position of honor and influence in the community. He became a successful lawyer and gained a reputation as an original and accomplished litterateur. Dr. Drake at once began the practice of medicine, and soon acquired the patronage of the best families in the town. His prominence as a physician was soon equaled by the high place which his indefatigable work in the .interests of Cincinnati gained for him. In 1807 he began a career of un- paralleled productiveness as a public-spirited citizen. Cincinnati, during her 120 years of her existence, may have honored other men more. She may have attempted to immortalize some of her sons by erecting monuments to them or inscribing their names on memorial tablets on the walls of public buildings. Cincinnati may boast of her Wm. H. Harrison, her William Lytle, her Buchanan Read, her Charles McMicken, Reuben Springer and others. The most liberal of all her benefactors, the most brilliant of her gifted sons, the one really great man she has produced, was, without condition or reserve, the young man who, in 1807, took his place among her people and worked for the greater honor and glory of Cincinnati, as no one has ever done before him or after. If there are really patriots in Cincinnati, they should not allow the blemish of ingratitude to any longer mar the record of their proud city. The history of Cincinnati does not offer a brighter page than that which records the achievements of Daniel Drake. 25 CHAPTER III. EARLY MEDICAL ANNALS OE CINCINNATI. T he twenty-eig-hth day of December, 1788, is generally conceded to have been the date of the first settlement of Cincinnati. On this day Israel Ludlow, a surveyor in the employ of a New Jersey Land Company, landed at a point corresponding to the foot of Sycamore Street and known in the early times as Yeatman’s Cove. He was accompanied by about twenty persons, who proceeded to erect three or four log cabins and thus laid the foundation of the future Queen City of the West. The land was part of 600,000 acres lying between the two Miamis and purchased from Congress by John Cleves Symmes, a New Jersey Congressman, who sold parts of his “Miami Purchase” to Benjamin Stites, of Pennsylvania; Matthias Denman, of New Jersey, and Col. Robert Patterson and John Eilson, of Lex- ington, Ky. The present site of Cincinnati had been visited in September, 1788, by Symmes, Patterson, Eilson and Denman. Denman decided to lay out a town at a point where the old Indian warpath from the British gar- rison at Detroit touched the Ohio River, opposite the mouth of the Licking- River. Eilson, who was a surveyor by profession and a schoolmaster by occupation, invented a fantastic name for the future town : “L-os-anti-ville,” or rather “ville-anti-os-L,” the town opposite the mouth of the Licking, a polyglot mixture of questionable composition. W. H. Venable tells us that John Filson and companions bold A frontier village planned In forest wild, on sloping hills, By fair Ohio’s strand. John Filson from three languages. With pedant skill did frame The novel word Losantiville, To be the new town’s name. John Eilson, during this expedition, met his death at the hands of the Indians ; at least, he was missed one day and was never found. It is sup- posed that he was killed by the savages. He was one of the first white men who set his foot on the soil upon which subsequently arose the city of Cin- cinnati. He gave the site a name and was about to lay off the projected town when his career came to a sudden end. To the physicians of Cincin- 26 nati the sad fate of John Filson is of peculiar interest. It is not generally known that he had been a student of medicine for over a year and was looking hopefully into the future when he would be able to quit teaching and surveying and settle down as a physician in Lexington. John Filson was, therefore, the first medical man whose name is associated with the early his- tory of Cincinnati. Within a month after the first settlement, the survey of the town from the river to Northern Row (now Seventh Street), and from Eastern Row (now Broadway) to Western Row (now Central Avenue) was completed. The population of the place consisted by this time of eleven families and twenty-four unmarried men. To protect this little colony of pioneers against the Indians, the Government of the United States sent an armed force from Fort Harmar, near Marietta, Ohio, to the Miami Country (the land between the Miamis), in August, 1789. This armed force, consisting of a battalion under command of Major David Strong, arrived by the river, and imme- diately laid the foundation of a military post, ‘Wort Washington.” During the three campaigns against the Indians (1790 under General Harmar, 1791 under General St. Clair, 1794 under General Wayne), the young village was a military station of great importance. Gen. Arthur St. Clair arrived at Fort WaWington January 1, 1790. He was a Scotchman by birth, a graduate of the University of Edinburgh, where he began the study of medicine. Subsequently • he continued his medical studies in London under Hunter. A sense of adventure prompted him to come to America, where he served with distinction in the Revolutionary War. He was an enthusiastic member of the military order of the Cincin- nati and named the village “Cincinnati,” abolishing John Filson’s euphonious but badly coined “Losantiville.” Thus the village received a new name from the hands of another man who had been a medical student. The owners of the original town site gave away lots to settlers, who agreed to cultivate the soil and build a house. Among the first eighty settlers who thus became landowners in Cincinnati, was a physician. Dr. John Hole, who can, therefore be considered the father of the local profession. He was among the first settlers in 1789. He was a native of Virginia (born 1754) and responded to the first call for troops, when the Colonies’ struggle for freedom began. He was commissioned surgeon’s mate in the Fifth Penn- sylvania Battalion, commanded by Col. Robert McGraw, of Carlisle, and continued in active service until the end of the war. He fought at Bunker Hill and was present when Washington assumed command of the army. Dr. Hole served on the stafif of General Montgomery, after whom Mont- gomery County, Ohio, is named. He was present at the battles of Quebec and Montmorency, afterward located in New Jersey, settled in Cincinnati in 1789 and began to practice. He introduced cow-pox inoculation in Cin- cinnati. That this pioneer physician had, just like his successors, his troubles in collecting outstanding accounts, appears from an advertisement in the 27 ‘‘Sentinel of the Northwestern Territory,” wherein he announces that he will no longer grant indulgence to anyone owing him money. In 1797 he pur- chased 1,440 acres of land on Silver Creek, in Washington Township, paying for it with Revolutionary land warrants, built a cabin and removed his family to the new home in the wilderness. He was a Baptist in faith and was the first person immersed in Silver Creek the name of which was, in honor of him, changed to Hole’s Creek, by which it is still known. According to the statement of Drake, Doctor Hole was not a man of much education or social rank, but his long and varied army service would certainly indicate that he was a competent practitioner and doubtless the equal of his contemporaries in medical and surgical skill. His energy is fully attested by the fact that in addition to his professional duties, which called him over a large district, he found time to build and run sawmills and to engage in the multiplied activities of a frontier life. At the outset of the war of 1812 he was tendered a position on the medical staff of the army, which failing health compelled him to decline. Dr. Hole died January 6, 1813.* Two other physicians arrived in Cincinnati within the same year after its first settlement. One was William Burnet, an older brother of Judge David Burnet, who was for several decades an eminent lawyer and citizen in Cincinnati. William Burnet was born in New Jersey and was a graduate of Nassau Hall, Princeton. He was a man of fine classical learning but not a graduate in medicine. He served throughout the Revolutionary War as surgeon’s mate and came to Cincinnati in 1789, bringing with him books and medicines. He divided his time between Cincinnati and North Bend, where his friend, John Cleves Symmes, resided. He founded the first Masonic Lodge in Cincinnati, obtaining the charter from the Grand Lodge of New Jersey. The new lodge was called Nova Caesarea No 2, in honor of its New Jersey origin. Doctor Burnet returned to New Jersey within two years after his arrival here and resided near Newark, where he died. He was a son of Dr. William Burnet, Surgeon General of the Revolutionary x\rmy in the Eastern Department. When Doctor Burnet, Jr., came West, he brought with him Calvin Morell, a brother Mason, who also hailed from N’ew Jersey. Doctor Morell did not remain long, but joined the Shakers, near Lebanon, Ohio, and eventually died there. To Dr. Peter Smith, who preached the gospel and practiced medicine near Cincinnati from 1794 to 1804, reference will be made elsewhere. The first obstetric event in the young village, the birth of David Cum- mins, after whom Cumminsville was named, suggests the name of the first midwife, Mrs. McKnight, of whom Daniel Drake speaks with much respect. * According to Ralston R. Jones, of Cincinnati, who has investigated the records of those revolutionary soldiers that are buried in Hamilton Co., Dr. John Hole died in Cincinnati in 1808. The will of a John Hole was probated in Cincinnati Dec. 7, 1808. It is pos.sible that there were two revolutionary soldiers by the name of John Hole who lived in Hamilton Co. The name occurs frequently in the early annals of Cincinnati and is variously spelled Hole, Hohl and Hoehl. 28 The scene of the interesting event was an humble log cabin on Vine Street opposite the site of the present Burnet House. Robert McClure, a Pennsylvanian, in 1792 opened up an office on Syca- more Street, between Third and Fourth Streets, and enjoyed quite a good practice. Drake tells us that his success was not due to his own excellence as a physician, but the splendid attributes of his wife, who was popular with people of all classes, and, in this way, paved the way for her husband,, “a biographical fact which it may be well for the younger members of the profession to treasure up.” In 1801, Dr. McClure left Cincinnati and returned to his native place, Brownsville, Pa. The Sentinel contained several advertisements of fine bitters prepared by Dr. McClure. In another ad the doctor asks for the return of empty bottles and for the settlement o'f outstanding accounts. John Cranmer, according to Drake’s statement, was a native of Pittsburg. Employed about the office of Dr. Bedford, a distinguished physician of that borough, as it then was, he acquired some knowledge of the symptoms of disease and the properties and doses of medicines ; the latter of which he kept in a table drawer, at his residence between Main and Walnut Streets, on the north side of Second, for some time after his emigration in 1798. It is worthy of remark, that from this humble beginning, and without original education, or the study of medical books, subsequently he attained a position of considerable personal and some professional respectability; supporting his family by his practice and continuing to advance in reputation up to the time of death, which occurred from cholera in 1832. Drake mentions a Dr. John Adams, from Massachusetts, who remained in Cincinnati for a short time and returned East. The physicians named were all civilians who arrived in Cincinnati previous to 1800. Fort Washington was erected in 1789 and demolished in 1808. The medical officers of the troops stationed there did not confine their medical services to the soldiers, but often gave gratuitous attendance to the people of the village and furnished medicines from the hospital chests. The sur- geons of Fort Washington are, therefore, closely identified with the early medical history of Cincinnati. Two of them, Richard Allison and John Sellman, remained here, after they left the army, and rose to considerable eminence. The surgeons of Fort Washington, as enumerated by Drake, were : Richard Allison, born near Goshen, N. Y., in 1757, was not a graduate but had served throughout the War of the Revolution as a surgeon’s mate. He re-entered the army and acted in the capacity of surgeon-general in the campaigns of Gens. Harmar, St. Clair and Wayne. For a short time he was stationed at Fort Finney, opposite the city of Louisville. In one of the battles during St. Clair’s campaign, he was greatly exposed: for he was obliged to leave the wounded and mingle in the fight. His horse received a bullet in the head. It remained imbedded in the skull; and, when riding him 29 through the village in after times, he would jocosely remark, that his horse had more in his head than some doctors he had known. Whenever stationed here, he gave such assistance to the people of the village, as made him a general favorite ; and after his resignation many of them employed him, when his services were no longer gratuitous. After an honorable career as an army surgeon he retired in 1798 and built a house called Peach Grove, at the present corner of Fourth and Lawrence Streets. In 1799 he removed to a farm on the Little Miami, where he intended to indulge his taste for agriculture and do a little speculating in real estate. In 1805 he returned to the city and kept an office at the southwest corner of Fourth and Sycamore Streets. He died in 1816, aged fifty-nine years. He was universally beloved on account of his zeal and gentle manners. Charlotte Chambers Ludlow, a daughter-in-law of Israel Ludlow, recalling a severe spell of illness through which she had passed, refers to Dr. Allison in one of her letters : “Dr. Allison, unwearied in kindness, left me but seldom. One night he had been aroused from sleep by an impression of my sudden danger and was irresistibly impelled at this gloomy hour to leave his bed and ride five miles in the dark night over rough roads. By his admirable skill the dread hand of death was happily averted.” Mrs. Ludlow lived at that time in Ludlow Mansion in Cumminsville. From all accounts, Dr. Allison must have been an exemplary man and splendid physician. He is buried in the old Wesleyan Cemetery in Cumminsville, where his monuirxent, with the following inscription, can still be seen : “He was an ornament to his profession, a liberal benefactor to the poor and a tender parent to the orphan. In his bounty the distressed found relief and in his generosity unfortunate merit obtained refuge. Weed his grave clean, ye men of genius, for he was your kinsman; tread lightly on his ashes, ye men of feeling, for he was your brother.” John Sellman, born in Annapolis, IMd., in 176-1, came from good family and received an excellent general education. He entered the army as a sur- geon’s mate and arrived in Ft. Washington with General Wayne in 1793. He resigned in 1794, and took up his residence on Front Street, between Syca- more Street and Broadway. He continued in practice until the time of his death, in 1827. For several years he was surgeon to the Newport Barracks. This was many years after he had resigned from the army and shows how highly his skill was valued by the Government. He was not a graduate in medicine, but possessed, in a high degree, a natural talent for the practice of medicine. He took a great interest in the affairs of the profession and was the staunch friend of the Medical College of Ohio. The latter institution, in 1826, conferred upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Medicine. There is a record of an amusing trial as the result of which Susie Newton, employed by John Sellman, was found guilty of having stolen some scientific instru- ment from the doctor. This happened in 1798. She stated in defense that Sir Isaac Newton was her ancestor and that a scientific turn of mind ran in the family. She simply could not resist taking the instrument. It was, how- 30 ever, found that she had pawned the instrument and had bought one gallon of applejack, for which offense she was fined $33, and received twenty-eight lashes on her bare back at the public whipping-post which was located where Fifth and Main Streets intersect. John Carmichael came from New Jersey and was a surgeon’s mate when he arrived in Fort Washington, 1789. He remained in the service until his resignation in 1802, steadily gaining promotion by faithful attention to duty. After the consummation of the Louisiana Purchase, he located in the South, became a cotton planter and acquired great wealth. He lived to an ad- vanced age. Joseph Phillips was born in New Jersey in 1766, came to Fort Wash- ington in 1793 as a surgeon’s mate, returned East in 1795, retired in 1802 with the rank of surgeon. He died in 1846. Drake refers to him as a physi- cian of great skill and a gentleman of culture. He was the close friend of Wm. H. Harrison, afterwards President of the United States. John Eliott, a New Yorker, served throughout the War of Independence as a surgeon’s mate and re-enlisted in 1785. He came West with General St. Clair, and was for some time stationed at Eort Washington. He was with Wayne in the campaign of 1794-95, which conquered from the Indians the Greenville treaty, brought peace and security to the Middle West and turned the tide of immigration into the country of the Miamis. He located in Dayton, Ohio, in 1802. He was a dignified and courtly gentleman, punc- tilious in dress and in the observance of the amenities of life. Some insight into his character may be gathered from the almost comical portrait drawn by Drake, who met him in the Summer of 1804, and who speaks of him as highly accomplished gentleman in a purple silk coat.” This costume, better fitted for court than cabin, must have contrasted strangely with the raccoon cap, homespun wammus, and buckskin breeches commonly worn by his asso- ciates and patients. He died in 1809. Joseph Strong was a native of Connecticut (born 1769), a Yale graduate in the arts but not a graduate in medicine. He came West with General Wayne and saw much active service during Wayne’s Indian campaign. He returned East in 1795, located in Philadelphia, where he became the friend of Benjamin Rush, and died in 1812. Dr. Strong was a man of much culture, a litterateur, a poet and a high-minded devotee of medicine. Among the officers stationed at Eort Washington was Ensign Wm. H. Harrison, born in Virginia in 1773, who had attended medical lectures at the Universities of Virginia and Pennsylvania. He entered the army as an officer of the line instead of the medical staff. Drake tells us that Harrison’s medical knowledge enabled him frequently to afford relief to those who could not, at the moment, command the services of a physician, and also inspired him with an abiding interest in the progress of the profession. This he suc- cessfully displayed more than twenty-five years afterwards, when a member of the Senate of Ohio. The bill for establishing the Commercial Hospital 31 and Lunatic Asylum of Ohio met with much opposition, against which he ex- erted himself with his usual, characteristic energy. Harrison afterwards was the first President of the First Board of the Medical College of Ohio. His record as a statesman and as a soldier (‘‘Old Tippecanoe”) is part of the history of his country. The physicians named were the only ones that arrived in Cincinnati before 1800. In the first year of the nineteenth century, the medical profession of the city proper consisted of John Sellman, John Cranmer and William Go- forth. Of the latter we have already had occasion to speak in connection with Drake’s student days. Cincinnati, in 1800, was a town of about 750 inhabitants. “North of the Canal,” Drake tells us, “and west of Western Row, there was forest, with here and there a cabin and a small clearing, connected with the village by a narrow, winding road. South of where the Commercial Hospital now ad- ministers relief annually, to three times as many people as then composed the population of the town, there were half-cleared fields, with broad margins of blackberry vines, and I, with other young persons, frequently gathered that delicious fruit, at the risk of being snake bitten, where the Roman Catholic Cathedral now sends its spire into the lower clouds. Further south, the ancient mound, near Fifth Street, on which General Wayne planted his sentinels seven years before, was overshadowed with trees, which, together with itself, should have been preserved ; but its dust, like that of those who then delighted to play on its beautiful slopes, has mingled with the remains of the unknown race, by whom it was erected.” Sixth and Vine was a wheat field. Seventh Street was the northern limit of the town. Sixth Street had a few scattering houses ; Fifth not many more. Between that and Fourth, there was a public square, now built over. In one corner, the north- east, stood the Court House, with a small market place in front, which nobody attended. In the northwest corner was the jail; in the southwest the village schoolhouse ; in the southeast, where a glittering spire tells the stranger that he is approaching our city, stood the humble church of the pioneers, whose bones lie mouldering in the center of the square, then the village cemetery. At the corner of Front and Broadway was Griffen Yeatman’s Hotel de Ville, the most pretentious tavern in the town. The only brick house in the town, in 1800, stood at the northwest corner of Main and Fifth Streets. From a line fifty feet north of Third down to the river, and from Broadway to Ludlow Street, the Government had its military post, “Fort Washington,” with its bastions and stockades skirted by the long low sheds of the com- missaries, quartermasters and military officials. The post-office was located in a wooden shanty on Lawrence Street, all the mail, which arrived once a week in a pair of saddle bags, being handled by the postmaster himself. A single house, built by Dr. Allison, stood where the Lytle House was after- wards erected. Doctor Allison’s house, surrounded by a peach orchard and generally known as “Peach Grove,” was Doctor Goforth’s residence when Drake became his student, in 1800. In 1803 Goforth moved into rooms which had up to that time been occupied by the Commander of Fort Wash- ington. To show thst even in those early days Cincinnati was not altogether a backwoods town, but was beginning to develop some of the evil, even if necessary accoutrements of larger towns, the records tell us that the first shrine dedicated to the worship of Venus Vulgivaga was opened in 1799 by Mary Montague. She seems to have counted among her friends some of the high officials of the town, who saw to it that she was not too seriously molested. In this respect times have not changed very materially. In 1802 a fourth member was added to the profession, John Stites, of New York, born in 1780, who possessed a splendid literary education and had attended medical lectures at the University of Pennsylvania without, however, graduating. He brought with him medicines, books, especially the writings of Rush and of his associates and pupils. Doctor Stites became a partner of Doctor Goforth for about a year, when he removed to Kentucky, where he died of tuberculosis in 1807. Before the first decade of the Nineteenth Century had been completed, two more physicians arrived in Cincinnati, both from Pennsylvania. John Bradburn, sometimes referred to as Blackburn, (born 1778), came here with a body of militia, which had been called into the field to ward off an expected attack by the Indians. The danger passed within two weeks and Blackburn located in Cincinnati. He came in 1805 and remained four years. He became a scientific farmer in Kentucky in 1809, and returned to Cincinnati in 1825, opening an office on Sycamore Street, above Third Street. He tired of practice after two or three years, and for the rest of his life lived on a .33 farm in Indiana. He died about 1835. He was one of the most scholarly of the early physicians, although he had no degree in medicine. Samuel Ramsey (born 1781), arrived in 1808 and became Doctor Alli- son’s partner. We shall refer to him in a subsequent chapter. The first one of the pioneer doctors to die in Cincinnati was Doctor Allison, in 1815. He was followed one year later by Doctor Goforth. 34 CHAPTER IV. DRAKE AS A PHYSICIAN AND PUBLIC MAN. He was a man, take him for all in all, . I shall not look upon his like again! Shakespeare. D rake began his career as a citizen of Cincinnati by giving the com- munity his bond of good faith. He took unto himself a wife. The bride of his youth was Miss Harriet Sisson, niece of Col. Jared Mansfield, Surveyor-General of the United States, residing in Cincinnati. Colonel Mansfield had been a professor at West Point and was a scholarly Ludlow Mansion. man, whose scientific attainments had been recognized by the United States Government in the form of the above mentional official position. He resided in the house which Col. Israel Ludlow had built, the place being generally known as Ludlow’s Station (adjoining the present Spring Grove Cemetery). The house of Colonel Mansfield is shown in the accompanying illustration. 35 It was known as Ludlow Mansion. This historic house was torn down in 1891, to make room for improvements of various kinds. A few days before the work of destruction was begun, Dr. H. W. Felter, of Cincinnati, had the old house photographed. The accompanying illustration was made from the photograph in Dr. Felter’s possession, probably the only picture of the house extant. Colonel Mansfield loved the society of bright and refined young people, and always kept an open house. Among the young men that called at the house was Daniel Drake. He met Miss Sisson, the Colonel’s niece, a naive, warm-hearted and physically attractive child of Nature, and felt strongly drawn to her. Was she beautiful? This is what Drake said of her when, in 1832, six years after the hand of death had made him a sorrowing widower, he thought back over the early days of courtship : Her modest eye of hazel hue Disclosed, e’en to the passing view, Truth, firmness, feeling, innocence. Bright thoughts and deep intelligence. Her soul was pure as Winter’s snow. And warm as Summer’s sunniest glow. When moving through the mingled crowd, Her lofty bearing spoke her proud. But when her kindling spirit breathed On those she loved, on those who grieved, Joy felt the quickened pulses leap And sorrow e’en forgot to weep. The shady lanes that led down to the lofty sycamores on the banks of Mill Creek did the rest. Dr. and Mrs. Drake went to housekeeping in the Fall of 1807 in a two-story frame house on the east side of Sycamore Street, between Third and Fourth Streets. Drake had built up a practice of re.spec- table proportions which was becoming more extensive all the time. The world smiled upon him. The little home, in which he and his Harriet lived, was a paradise of happiness. The young wife, possessed of much feminine tact and an instinctive estimation of her husband’s brilliant gifts, was a splendid helpmate and companion for him. Their tastes were congenial, and made doubly so by the strongest kind of devotion to each other. They were lovers, even more ardent after than before their marriage. Together they wandered along the banks of the Little Miami or through the woodland that skirted the northern parts of the city (the present suburbs of Avondale and Walnut Hills), whenever there was an opportunity to enjoy a surcease from the drudgery of practice. He indulged his love of Nature to the fullest extent. Everywhere he found objects of interest that furnished new food for reflection and investigation. The topography of the country, its meteorological and climatic conditions, its plant life and geological forma- 36 tions were carefully noted and studied. In 1810 Drake published a booklet setting forth the results of his observations, under the title of “Notices of Cincinnati, its Topography, Climate and Diseases.” He continued to study and observe, and, after five' years, brought out that remarkable book about Cincinnati, which by many is considered the greatest achievement of his life. He was at that time thirty years of age. The full name of this book was “Natural and Statistical View or Picture of Cincinnati and the Miami Country, illustrated by maps. With an appendix containing observations on the late earthquakes, the aurora borealis and southwest wind.” It was the first book written by a Cincinnatian, and even today impresses one as a marvel of originality and thoroughness. Strangely enough, the people of Cincinnati did not seem to realize that a prophet had arisen among them. Many shrugged their shoulders and a few of Drake’s colleagues even ridiculed the book and its author. The worm of envy seems to have gnawed as busily at the hearts of some physicians at that time as it does to-day. I can under- stand the application of a law of compensation in the active rivalry of men who try to outdo each other in physical or mental achievements. I have, however, never been able to see Nature’s positive, or even negative, inten- tions in the activity of the small mind that hates the superior mind for no reason in the world except because of its superiority. It seems like a satire on the eternal fitness of things, that the small mind is nowhere as busy in its activity, and numerically as strongly represented as in the professions, including medicine. This is strange because the professional ideal in medicine should be altruism, pure and simple. Drake’s “Picture of Cincinnati” excited a great deal of interest in the East, and even on the Continent of Europe, where parts of the book were translated for the benefit of people who contemplated emigrating to America. The book was a tremendously efifective advertisement for Cincinnati, and Drake became a famous author through it. It is a duodecimo volume of 250 pages and is dedicated “with sentiments of true and respectful attachment” to Colonel Mansfield. In view of the fact that this remarkable work was written by the foremost physician and most illustrious citizen Cincinnati has ever produced, it should always be a source of pride and inspiration to the members of our profession. A synopsis of Drake’s “Picture of Cincin- nati” should be properly included in any book that attempts to record the achievements and labors of the profession of Cincinnati. Drake’s “Picture of Cincinnati” contains seven chapters and an ap- pendix. In the ^irst chapter Drake gives the geography of the Ohio River, and of the State of Ohio, particularly of its southwestern portion, a historical account of the discovery and settlement of the Western country, a discussion of the question of jurisdiction and right of soil, statistical tables of the popu- lation of the Western States, with special reference to Ohio; a description, geographic and statistical, of the Little Miami River, the counties in the 37 Miami Country, (Hamilton, Clermont, Warren, Butler, Preble, Montgomery, Green, Clinton, Champaign, Miami, and Darke), a record of land titles granted by the United States Government; prices of land, and an account of thb agricultural possibilities of the land (farm products of all kinds). A short account of the neighboring country (Indiana territory and adjoining parts of Kentucky) close the first chapter. In the second chapter, Drake takes up questions of physical topography of Cincinnati and surrounding country, position, aspect and elevation of the soil, the geology of Southwestern Ohio, its botany with complete tables of genera and species of trees and shrubs. He gives a complete list of plants useful in medicine and the arts, giving scientific and popular names, the officinal value and classification of the different plants, a calendar of the Flora with dates of budding, blooming and ripening of fruit-bearing trees and shrubs. In his discussion of the climate he gives details and comparative tables of the temperature, the winds, the weather, the storms, and concludes the chapter with an exhaustive study of the meteorological differences between the interior and the Atlantic States. In the third chapter Drake discusses what he calls the civil topography of Cincinnati, giving an account of the early owners of the land, the plan of the city, the value of property, the gradation and draining of streets, a description of the principal buildings, an account of the facilities for fire protection, of sources of water supply, fuel, markets, manufactures, com- merce, vessels, exports, imports, banks, newspapers, public utilities and edi- fices, schools, including the ‘'Cincinnati University,” incorporated 1306, con- sisting of one building which a storm destroyed in 1809, libraries, churches and religious institutions. Masonic lodge, and the state of society in general. In the fourth chapter Drake dilates upon the political topography of the Miami Country, its population, historically and racially considered. He dis- cusses the organization of the militia, the means and provisions for supporting the poor, the organization of the municipal government, administrative and judicial. The fifth chapter is given to the consideration of medical questions, the prevailing diseases, their courses, the location and character of mineral springs near Cincinnati. In the sixth chapter Drake gives an absorbingly interesting account of the antiquities of southwestern Ohio, relics of prehistoric times, mounds, excava- tions, description of a mound at Third and Main Streets and its contents, an account of archseologic findings. In the seventh chapter Drake discusses the possibilities of the future, the improvements to be made, bridges, roads and canals. A prophecy concerning the future greatness of Cincinnati and proofs supporting the claims con- clude this chapter. The appendix contains a chronological table and accurate description of various earthquakes that visited Cincinnati, notably the one that happened 38 December 16, 1811. Following the description Drake gives a scientific expla- nation of the ascertainable physical conditions that are connected with the occurrence of earthquakes. In conclusion, Drake discusses the physics and the meteorological problems of aurora borealis and the southwest wind. The amount of information contained in the ‘‘Picture of Cincinnati” is simply stupendous. It is a monument of Drake’s indefatigable zeal and systematic thoroughness. The “Picture of Cincinnati” has become a very rare book. It is to be hoped that some enterprising and patriotic publisher, or perhaps the Historical and Philosophical Society of Ohio will cause this splendid product of Drake’s genius to be reprjnted for the benefit of the many who are interested in the early history of our city and the Western country generally. Time and experience will develop in the hearts of the American people that sense of reverential retrospection that strikes the American traveler in Europe with such force. The record of the past is the soil upon which patriotism grows. We should teach the younger gen- eration to have respect for and love the achievements of the distant past. After all, it is the morality of the past that gives us the ethics of the present. ‘'Die Weltgeschichte ist das WeltgerichtD The year 1809 was one of trials and sorrows for Drake and his devoted wife. Drake suffered an attack of what must have been pneumonia, and barely escaped with his life. Dr. Richard Allison attended him, and, in keeping with the medical practice of the day, bled him very liberally. This was in the early part of the year. Shortly before he had taken sick, a little daughter put in an appearance at the Drake home. The little one was about one year old when she had an attack of croup and died suddenly. Drake, for the first time in his life, experienced the meaning of intense sorrow. His reference to the little one’s death in a letter to his father is pathetic in the extreme. To forget his grief, he spent much time under the canopy of heaven, accompanied by her, whom he calls “the sweetest and most affec- tionate of wives, and the most tender and now the most desolate of mothers.” Drake worked hard on his “Picture of Cincinnati,” which finally appeared in 1815. It was the means of lulling his aching heart to sleep, and inci- dently laid the foundation to his future greatness. Mansfield, in his biographical sketch of Drake, refers to a case of nervous (typhoid?) fever, in which Drake, in 1812, employed applications of cold water and cured his patient. Drake had become acquainted with the writings of Hu f eland, author of the once famous “Macrobiotik,” who was a great hydro-therapeutist. Drake’s case was a very severe one, and an old prac- titioner was called to see the case with Drake in consultation. He approved of the cold water applications, but suggested to discontinue them, because they were not generally accepted by the profession, and might, in the event of the patient’s death, occasion much adverse criticism. Drake continued them in spite of the old doctor’s well-meant advice, and had the satisfac- .39 tion of restoring his patient. The incident throws a characteristic light on Drake’s temperament. Drake was not a moral coward. He cared nothing about the opinions of people, as long as his mind was satisfied and his conscience easy. How much purer the moral atmosphere of our profession would be, if moral courage were not such a rarity. The average man will bow to custom, tradition, convention or to the opinions of those in authority. This holds good in social matters, in professional afifairs and even in ques- tions of science. It is, indeed, strange that in a profession whose raison d'etre is truth itself, there should be even one who is afraid of the truth. The First Soda Fountain (1816) Drake, about the time when his “Picture of Cincinnati” was published, was a very much occupied man. In addition to his practice, he was busily engaged in his studies and in various enterprises of a commercial character. He had saved quite a little money and invested a part of it in a house which he was building on Third Street, near the corner of Ludlow Street, on the site of the building still known as the Drake House. The latter is on the lower side of Third Street, the second house from the southwest corner of Ludlow and Third Streets. Further west from the present Drake House, is the Mansfield House, built in 1827 by Colonel Mansfield, uncle of Mrs. Drake. In 1813 Drake became the owner of a drug store on Main Street, between Second and Third Streets, which he conducted with the assistance of his brother Benjamin. It was principally a drug store, but soon became a gen- 40 eral store, where even hardware and groceries were sold. In this store, Drake, after his return from Philadelphia (1816), fitted up what might be properly considered the first soda fountain in Cincinnati. He purchased the apparatus in Philadelphia and introduced soda water as a beverage to the people of Cincinnati. The accompanying illustration shows the first soda fountain in Cincinnati. It is reproduced from an old wood-cut. Intellectual and artistic' pursuits of various kinds had at that time many ardent devotees in the rapidly developing* community. With all these various enterprises Dr. Drake was prominently identified. In some of them he was the central figure and moving spirit. In 1815 the Lancaster Seminary was incorporated, and Drake became one of the trustees. It derived its name from Joseph Lancaster, a Scotchman, who originated a peculiar educational system known as the Lancasterian method of teaching. The principle of the system was the training of the younger pupils by placing them under the instruction of the more advanced students, who thus became the teachers of the younger pupils. Drake took a great interest in and devoted much time to the new institution. In a few years it grew into the so-called Cin- cinnati College, whose medical department, organized by Drake in 1835, had the most brilliant faculty that has ever been assembled in the West. Of this we shall have occasion to speak later on. It may be of interest to know that the first Episcopal Church in Cincinnati was founded at Drake’s instiga- tion. He called a meeting of prominent Episcopalians at his house and organized a building committee. Drake devoted much time and labor to the organization of a Library So- ciety, by means of which he hoped to lay the foundation of a Public Library. Eor educational purposes he started a Debating Society and also a School of Literature and Art, in which he was assisted by the very best talent and most prominent people of the town. It is remarkable how much Drake accomplished at this time. He did it by ceaseless toil and careful systemati- zation of labor. Not every man who works hard accomplishes much. Energy is often wasted by a lack of system. It was the careful division of his time that enabled Drake to do two men’s work, and yet find time to meet unexpected requirements. In anticipation of a long-cherished desire to go to Philadelphia and graduate in approved fashion, he had trained his brother Benjamin in the management of his commercial affairs, and had induced his parents to take up their permanent abode in Cincinnati. In October, 1815, Dr. and Mrs. Drake set out for Philadelphia, leaving their two children in the care of the grandparents. The Winter at Philadelphia put Drake’s endurance to a severe test. Mrs. Drake was ill most of the time, and one of the children that had been left at home, died suddenly. Amid severe mental anguish and the hardest kind of work he spent the Winter, and finally received the coveted diploma. He resumed his practice in Cincinnati in May, 1816. 41 The following year witnessed the beginning of a financial stringency that caused much hardship and depression in all parts of the country. Drake became involved in a most disastrous manner. His store on Main Street passed out of his hands, and was managed by his father and brother, under the firm name of Isaac Drake & Co. He had to save every penny in order not to lose the house which he had started to build as a home for himself and his little family. For economic reasons he moved into an old-fashioned log cabin situated on the slope of the northern hills. The location of this cabin was near the present Milton Street, between Broadway and Sycamore. It was a typical country home, away from the noise and excitement of the town, which at that time extended northward not farther than the present Eighth Street. Drake called his country home semi-ironically ‘‘Mount Pov- erty.” In 1817 a new epoch started in the life of Daniel Drake. He was only thirty-two years of age. The people of Cincinnati respected him on account of his great energy and learning. He was a successful practitioner, en- joying a practice that yielded him an annual income of approximately seven thousand dollars. His “Picture of Cincinnati” had made him famous throughout the country. The second chapter of it, containing a thoroughly learned account of the medical botany of the Miami Country, had attracted universal attention among the profession. It was this reputation as a med- ical botanist that opened up new paths of labor for him, and made it possible for him to begin that career which was so admirably adapted to his peculiar temperament, the career of a medical teacher. It seems appropriate in connection with Doctor Drake’s services to the community as a progressive and public-spirited citizen, to point to the part he took in designing and executing various public improvements. The canal system of the Middle West was suggested and outlined by him in his “Pic- ture of Cincinnati.” He traced canal routes from Lake Erie to the Alle- gheny River, between the Maumee and Great Miami, between the Chicago and Illinois Rivers, between the Wisconsin and Fox Rivers, between the Cuyahoga and Muskingum Rivers, from the Great Miami to Cincinnati, from Maumee Bay to Cincinnati. Many of these routes were projected by 1825, when the introduction of the steam car revealed new possibilities in the interests of civilization. Again, it was Drake whose fertile brain evolved the plan of connecting Cincinnati and Charleston, the Middle West and the South, by a direct line of railroad. While his plans fell through at the time, mainly on account of the attitude of the Kentucky Legislature, it can not be denied that he gave the first impetus to the building of the Southern Railway. Drake was interested in all questions pertaining to the good of his fellow- man, his home town, the State. In 1851, when the slavery problem was already worrying the people of the North, or, for that matter, patriotic Americans everywhere, he published a number of letters which were ad- dressed to the distinguished Dr. John Collins Warren, of Boston, who had 42 presided over a meeting held in Boston, at which the slavery question was discussed in a patriotic and unbiased way. When Drake read about this meeting, he was deeply moved. No truer patriot ever breathed than he; no American ever lived whose heart was so full of love for his country than Drake’s. To his country’s interest he subordinated all minor considerations of self and party. No one knew the West and South like Drake, who had traversed both in all directions for years in the preparation of his monu- mental work on the Diseases of the Interior Valley of North America. Every student of American history should read Drake’s letters on slavery, published in the National Intelligencer, April 3, 5 and 7, 1851. These letters alone prove that Drake had the brain and the heart of the true statesman. He was fair, unbiased, ready to yield a lesser point in establishing a greater principle, not a Yankee, not a rebel, but a level-headed, big-hearted American. It is refreshing and inspiring to ponder over the character of this remark- able man. He was original, resourceful, full of energy, thoroughly fearless and at all times ready to stand up and fight for what he considered right. These traits gained for him the doubtful reputation of being “meddlesome” and “quarrelsome.” He was not meddlesome, but full of fiery initiative in the interests of the public and professional weal. He was not quarrelsome, but a courageous champion of his ideals. He was not afraid to tell the truth, to expose what should be held up to public view, to beard the lion in his den. Such men are never popular with the conventional mollycoddles of public and professional life. In Drake’s time, and today, the words of Robert Burns have had and have their significance : There’s none ever feared that the truth should be heard But him zvhom the truth zvoiild indite. 43 CHAPTER V. DRAKE AS A AIEDICAL TEACHER. T he man who was instrumental in starting Drake in his career as a medical teacher, was Benjamin W. Dudley, the distinguished sur- geon of Lexington, Kentucky, whose record as a lithotomist forms an interesting chapter in the history of American surgery. Dudley had suc- ceeded in establishing a medical school in Lexington, Ky., as a part of Transylvania University, at that time a flourishing literary institution in Lexington, and was looking around for suitable material to make up a fac- ulty. He thought of Drake in connection with the chair of materia medica, and early in 1817 invited him to become a professor in the Medical Depart- ment of Transylvania University. The offer pleased Drake, who, after mature deliberation, accepted it, and in the Fall of 1817 moved to Lexington to assume charge of his new post, leaving his office in Cincinnati in charge of Dr. Coleman Rogers. Thus he became one of the five members of the first faculty of the first medical school in the West. The history of medical education in the West begins with the founding of the Transylvania School. Lexington had acquired the proud title of 'Athens of the West” in the early part of the last -century. The town was wide-awake, had a progressive and prosperous population of over six thou- sand souls in 1815, two thousand less than Cincinnati, and aspired to be- come the metropolis of the West. Its medical school, during the third and fourth decades of the nineteenth century, was largely attended and ranked with the six leading medical schools in the Lhiited States. In its palmy days it far outclassed all the Western schools. Drake, zealous, ambitious and scrupulously conscientious, made an ex- cellent impression as a medical teacher in Lexington. Yet, at the end of the session, he decided to return to Cincinnati, and resigned his post. The session must have been too strenuous for him. There were differences of opinion among the professors, and the monotony of teaching was repeatedly interrupted by fisticuff engagements and even a shooting affray, in none of which Drake, however, was one of the principals.* He managed to keep out of trouble, which, considering the fiery temper of Dudley who was a fighting Southerner, of the revolutionary type, was by no means very easy. Yet Drake, who had his family with him, spent a very agreeable winter in *The story that Drake was challenged to a duel by Dudley and that, at the critical moment, Drake refused to fight and Richardson took his place, was invented by Alban Goldsmith, Drake’s bitter enemy. It is true that Richardson in the duel was shot in the thigh and would have bled to death if Dudley, his antagonist, had not at once ligated his femoral artery. Richardson and Dudley afterward were good friends. Drake, however, had nothing to do with the affair mentioned. 44 Lexington. His health had improved materially. Why he resigned is not very clear. He must have been impressed with the fact that Lexington had no future as a medical center, compared to Cincinnati. In May, 1818, he was back in his old home. The lion had tasted blood. Drake had experienced the sensation of teaching and lecturing.- The idea of continuing this work in Cincinnati pur- sued him night and day. That he thought of giving young men a chance to study under him, and in this way qualify themselves for the practice of med- icine, appears from the advertisement which was printed in the Western Spy, July 9, 1817, three months before Drake moved to Lexington. In 1817 he shared offices with Dr. Coleman Rogers, and the following card was pub- lished : “Drs, Drake and Rogers having connected themselves in the practice of the various branches of their profession, including operative surgery, may be consulted by persons, either from town or country, at their residence, on Ludlow and Fifth Streets, or at their common shop, lately occupied by the former. The arrangements they have made for the accommodation and instruction of medical students will enable them to receive any number that may apply.” After Drake’s return from Lexington a systematic course of instruction for medical students was planned by Drake and Rogers. They interested the Rev. Elijah Slack, president of the Lancaster School, in their plan, and issued the following card in the public prints : “The undersigned beg leave to inform those young men of the Western Country, who are desirous of studying medicine, that they have made the following preparations and arrangements for the instruction of private students : 1 — They have collected an extensive medical, surgical, and philosophical library, which includes all the journals of medicine and the physical sciences hitherto pub- lished or now issuing in the United States, with some of the principal magazines of Europe. 2 — Doctor Drake will, every Spring and Summer, deliver a course of lectures on botany; and every Winter another on materia medica and the practice of physic; the latter course to be preceded by a series of lectures on physiology, and illustrated with specimens of our native medicines. 3 — Doctor Rogers will in the Winter season deliver a course on the principles and practice of surgery, illustrated with operations and anatomical demonstrations. 4 — ^Doctor Slack will, during the same session, deliver a course on theoretical and practical chemistry, embracing pharmacy and the analysis of animal and vegetable substances. 5 — Doctors Rogers and Drake will in conjunction deliver annually a series of demonstrative obstetrical lectures, G — They will be able to afford to all who study with them frequent opportunities of seeing clinical practice, both in physic and surgery. The price of tuition, including all the lectures, will be fifty dollars a year. Should any young gentlemen wish to attend the lectures without becoming private pupils, they will be admitted to all courses for forty dollars.” D. DRAKE, M. D. C. ROGERS, M. D;. May 27, 1818. E. SLACK, A. M. 45 On November 10, 1818, the first lecture was delivered. The session closed March 10, 1819. Things evidently did not suit Drake, because on April 17, 1819, he announced that “he had dissolved his partnership, but would continue the practice of physic, surgery, etc., that he was prepared to receive any number of students and would instruct them in all branches of the profession.” From the foregoing it is plain that Daniel Drake, Coleman Rogers and Rev. Elijah Slack were the first medical teachers in Cincinnati. Coleman Rogers was a Virginian by birth, having been born in Culpepper County of that State, March 6, 1781. The boy was about six years old when his father settled at Bryant’s Station, Fayette County, Kentucky, a few miles from Lexington. Mr. Rogers, Sr., had eleven boys and one girl. Coleman Coi.EMAN Rogers was the seventh among the boys, and in his mature years accounted the smallest one in the family. He weighed nearly 200 pounds and was six feet and two inches tall. In his childhood he was puny and ill-nourished and was not expected to live. He got his meager early education at a country school. In 1802 he went to Lexington to become the apprentice of Dr. Samuel Brown, and remained there one year, when he made up his mind to go to Philadelphia and take a regular course in medicine. He rode to Phil- adelphia on horseback in twenty-three days. He became the pupil of Dr. Charles Caldwell, then a rising physician in the eastern metropolis, and some years subsequently a distinguished member of the medical faculty in Tran- sylvania University, Lexington, Ky. Rogers attended lectures at the Uni- versity of Pennsylvania, and remained in Philadelphia for eighteen months. He was too poor to be able to pay the expenses incidental to graduation, and left for his Kentucky home without the coveted diploma. He practiced at Danville, Ky., entering into a partnership with Ephraim AdacDowell, who was already enjoying a vast reputation as an accomplished surgeon. In 46 1810 Rogers returned to Fayette County and remained there until 1816, when he went to Philadelphia for the second time and finally took his degree. About this time Benjamin W. Dudley was organizing the Medical Depart- ment of Transylvania University, and wanted Rogers to be the Professor of Anatomy. Rogers did not accept the offered position, but moved to Cin- cinnati, where he became the partner of Daniel Drake. He was to be vice- president of the Medical College of Ohio and professor of surgery. He could not, however, agree with Drake. His erstwhile preceptor, Samuel Brown, was to be a member of the faculty, but likewise declined to take any part. In 1821 Rogers moved to Newport, Ky. After two years he left for Louisville, where he remained for the rest of his life. He was surgeon to the Marine Hospital, and, in 1832, in conjunction with Alban G. Smith, afterwards professor of surgery in the Medical College of Ohio, and Har- rison Powell, founded the Louisville Medical Institute. When the school, in 1837, was reorganized, he dropped out entirely. Coleman Rogers was an accomplished surgeon and able anatomist. He was very successful in prac- tice, leaving quite a large estate to his numerous children. He died in 1855, at the age of seventy-four years. Strangely enough, in 1819 he refused to be a professor in the institution which Drake founded, while the latter, in 1839, became a professor in the medical school which Rogers helped to or- ganize. Rogers was four years older than Drake, took his degree at Phila- delphia about the time Drake graduated there, and died three years later than Drake. He was a handsome and very stately and reserved gentleman, quite the opposite in temperament to the mercurial Drake. The third one in the trinity of medical teachers in 1818 was Elijah Slack, not a physician, but a Presbyterian minister, who was well versed in chem- istry and was fond of teaching. He was a native of Bucks County, Penn- sylvania, where he was born November 6, 1784. In 1810 he graduated at Princeton, took charge of an academy at Trenton, N. J., and eventually became professor of the natural sciences in Princeton College. For a number of years he was vice-president of this institution. In 1817 he took charge of the newly-founded Lancaster Seminary in Cincinnati, and in 1820, when it was merged into the Cincinnati College, became president of the latter institution. He joined Drake and Rogers in their first course of lectures, and became professor of chemistry when the Medical College of Ohio was founded. During the first decade of its existence he was very much in evi- dence in the affairs of the college, as we shall have occasion to observe. He was given credit for being an honest, painstaking man, whose character was above reproach. He was inclined to be meddlesome, which is said to be a trait not infrequently found in gentlemen who wear the cloth. In person he was short and dumpy. 'Tn his lectures and demonstrations he was scrup- ulously conscientious, but owing to his pedantic, deliberate and tiresome way of proceeding, did not appear to advantage in either the lecture room or the laboratory. He was too diffuse in his lectures, and his attempts to clear 47 often obscured the subject. He was lacking in dexterity, and, for this reason, his experiments often failed.” He had absolutely no sense of humor and through his awkwardness was constantly causing hilarity which, of course, he could^not account for. In those days a pig’s bladder occupied a prominent place in a chemist’s outfit, taking the place of the modern rubber Elijah Slack, bag, gas tank and receptacle for various purposes. On one occasion he was lecturing before a mixed class of ladies and gentlemen and endeavored to show the chemical composition of water. Reaching out for the pig’s bladder, which was to serve as the receptacle, he remarked : “I shall now fill my bladder and proceed to make water.” This remark threw the assembly into hysterics. Mr. Slack could not account for the commotion. In spite of all his peculiarities, Mr. Slack was a very useful man. He pos- sessed a splendid general education and was a teacher by profession. Being a Presbyterian minister, he commanded the respect and confidence of some of the foremost people in the town. In his own way he was progressive and even enthusiastic in acquitting himself of the duties of his chair. He had a very creditable laboratory, and was always on the alert for new things in the chem- ical line. He was public-spirited and became one of the founders of the His- torical and Philosophical Society of Ohio. He served as the first president of the Cincinnati Medical Society, which was organized in 1819. He remained with the Medical College of Ohio for eleven years. In 1837 he moved to Brownsville, Tenn., and opened a high school for girls, which he successfully conducted until 1844, when he returned to Cincinnati. He taught private classes, embracing chemistry, physics and other natural sciences in his cur- riculum. When the Ohio College of Dental Surgery was founded. Slack was appointed professor of chemistry. In 1851, when the Cincinnati College of Medicine and Surgery was organized by Drs. A. H. Baker and B. S. Lawson, Mr. Slack, then a venerable septuagenarian with a wealth of flowing white 48 hair, appeared again before a medical class as a lecturer on chemistry. He died in Cincinnati, May 29, 1866. The name of Slack Street perpetuates the memory of this pioneer teacher. While he was connected with the Ohio Col- lege, he evinced a considerable degree of medico-political talent. He could always be found with the winning side, which ordinarily meant that he was opposed to Drake. The year 1818 was a memorable one. in the history of American medicine. During that year one of the most distinguished American physicians died (Caspar Wistar, the famous anatomist of the University of Pennsylvania, born 1761), while another great American physician was born (Henry Jacob Bigelow, “autocrat of New England surgery,” famous son of a distinguished father). Drake devoted the greater part of the year 1818 to paving the way for the establishment of the Medical College of Ohio. The people of Cin- cinnati, then a growing town of 10,000 inhabitants, were rather favorable to the project. The physicians of the town did not take very kindly to Drake’s scheme. Some of them feared the competition of the young doctors which the new institution might turn out. Others were jealous of Drake, who, while only thirty-three years of age, was by far the most prominent medical man in the community. Intrigues of various kinds were resorted to, to frustrate the establishment of the college. Drake, hopeful and undismayed, personally appealed to the Ohio Legislature, and asked for the passage of a law author- izing the establishment of a medical college in Cincinnati. On January 19, 1819, the Legislature passed an Act (Ohio Laws, Vol. 17, p. 37), the wording of which was as follows : Whereas, society at large is deeply interested in the promotion of medical and sur- gical knowledge ; and, whereas, the students of medicine in the State of Ohio are so distant from any well regulated college as to labour under serious disadvantages in the prosecution of their studies ; therefore. Section ]. Be is enacted, by the General Assembly of the State of Ohio, that there shall be established, in Cincinnati, a college for instruction in physic, surgery, and the auxiliary sciences, under the style and title, of “The Medical College of Ohio.” Section 2. Be it further enacted, that Samuel Brown, Coleman Rogers, Elijah Slack, and Daniel Drake, with their associates and successors, shall constitute the faculty of professors of said college, and, as such, are hereby created and declared the body cor- porate and politic, in perpetual succession, with full power to acquire, hold and convey property for the endowment of said college, contract and be contracted with, sue and be sued, plea and be impleaded, answer and be answered unto, defend and be defended in all courts and places, and in all matters whatsoever ; provided, that no part of the estate, either real or personal, which said incorporation may at any time hold, shall be em- ployed for any other purposes than those for which it is constituted. And, provided also, that the revenues arising from the property, which the said incorporation shall be entitled to hold, shall never exceed the sum of five thousand dollars per annum. Section 3. Be it further enacted, that the faculty of said college may devise and keep a common seal, which may be altered and renewed at pleasure. Section 4. Be it further enacted, that the officers of said college shall be a presi- dent, vice-president, register and treasurer, who shall be elected by the professors out of 49 their own body, once in two years, at such times, and in such manner, as they may appoint ; which officers shall hold their places until their successors are chosen. Section 5. Be it further enacted, that two-thirds of the members of the faculty of said college shall constitute a quorum for every kind of business, and, when thus assem- bled, shall have full power and authority to make, ordain and resolve all by-laws, rules and resolutions, which they may deem necessary for the good government and well being of said college ; and the same when deemed expedient, to alter, change, revoke or annul, provided they be consistent with the laws of this State and the United States; also to establish such additional offices and appoint such officers and servants as they may think requisite for the interest of said college ; also to create, alter or abolish all such profes- sorships, and appoint or dismiss all such professors and lecturers, as they may see proper, which professors or lecturers, when thus dismissed, shall cease to be members of the corporation ; provided, that no professorship shall be created or abolished, nor any professor or lecturer be elected or dismissed, without the concurrence of three-fourths of the whole faculty. Section 6. Be it further enacted, that the faculty of such college shall have power, and are hereby authorized to confer the degree of medicine, and grant diplomas for the same under the seal of the corporation. Section 7. Be it further enacted, that, until the faculty of said college shall direct it otherwise, there shall be established the following professorships : first, a professorship of the institutes and practice of medicine ; second, a professorship of anatomy ; third, a professorship of surgery; fourth, a professorship of materia medica ; fifth, a professorship of obstetrics and the diseases of women and children ; sixth, a professorship of chem- istry and pharmacy. Section 8. Be it further enacted, that, until the faculty of said college shall make a difi'erent arrangement, the following persons shall be and are hereby appointed pro- fessors, viz: Daniel Drake, Professor of the Institutes and Practice of Medicine; Samuel Brown, Professor of Anatomy; Coleman Rogers, Professor of Surgery; Elijah Slack, Professor of Chemistry and Pharmacy, and, until the said faculty shall hold an election for officers, the following are hereby appointed, to-wit: Daniel Drake, President; Coleman Rogers, Vice-President, and Elijah Slack, Register and Treasurer. Section 9. And be it further enacted, that this law shall be subject to such altera- tions and amendments as any future legislature may think proper. Under the terms of this Act, Dr. Drake was elected President, Dr. Coleman Rotters Vice-President, and Rev. Elijah ^lack Registrar and Treasurer. Dr. Samuel Brown refused to have anything to do with the institution. Samuel Brown was a Kentuckian and the oldest member of the faculty. He was a well-posted man who had made a splendid record as a medical student in Edin- burgh, where he had spent a few years under the preceptorship of the famous John Bell. Brown was the chum and bosom friend of Ephraim McDowell, who was his roommate in Edinburgh. Brown afterward, as a member of the faculty of Transylvania University, became one of the most di.stinguished teachers of medicine in the West. His brother was the well known James Brown, who so ably represented our country in Erance. Coleman Rogers likewise declined to serve on the faculty. These were the difficulties that retarded the opening of the school. The first regular course was to begin in the Fall of 1819, but had to be postponed. December 30, 1819, an amendatory Act was passed by the Legislature, at the instance of 50 Dr. Drake, making the creation and abolishment of a professorship and the election or dismissal of a lecturer dependent on a two-thirds vote of the faculty. The meaning of this amendatory act becomes apparent in the minutes of the first meeting of the faculty of the Medical College of Ohio, held January 14, 1820. The minutes of this meeting, as recorded in the official record book, which is still extant, read as follows : Cincinnati, January 14, 1820. A meeting was held of the faculty of the Medical College of Ohio. Present: Daniel Drake, President, and Elijah Slack, Registrar. The president exhibited a letter from Dr. Samuel Brown, who was appointed pro- fessor of anatomy in the law incorporating the college, stating that he would not accept the appointment. He also produced several letters from Dr. Samuel Brown and others, calculated to .show the intrigue and duplicity with which he had acted towards the college, together with a statement of the causes which have hitherto protracted its organization, which were ordered to be filed. He likewise exhibited an attested statement of the conduct and declarations of Dr. Coleman Rogers, the professor of surgery, in relation to Dr. Samuel Brown, by which it appears that Dr. Rogers approved of the course pursued by Dr. Brown towards the college. Whereupon, it was resolved that the said Dr. Rogers had acted with defection to the institution and is unworthy of a professorship in it, and that he be dismissed from it. The president also laid before the faculty several recommendatory papers in favor of Benjamin S. Bohrer, M. D., whereupon he was elected professor of materia niedica. He also laid before the faculty a letter from the Secretary of the New York Medical Society received in the month of September last, inviting this college to send a delegate to Lexington in the ensuing October to meet other delegates and form a Western convention on the subject of a National Pharmacopceia, whereupon it was resolved that the professor of materia medica be authorized and requested to represent this institution in the National Convention now sitting in Washington City on the subject expressed, and that a commission of appointment be forwarded to him. Ad- journed. ELIJAH SLACK, Registrar. This meeting, held before there was even a college in existence, was the beginning of what John P. Foote, for many years a trustee of the college, calls the “Thirty Years’ War.” (See Foote’s “Schools of Cincinnati,” 1850.) One week after this meeting, on January 22, 1820, the first public hospital in Cincinnati was created by an act of the Legislature, its official name being “Commercial Hospital and Lunatic Asylum for the State of Ohio.” Drake saw the necessity of a hospital for clinical instruction and was the prime mover in its establishment. There were two more meetings in 1820, one on August 19, the other November 1. The vacant chairs were filled and sundry business was trans- acted. I propose to discuss the happenings of that first year in the life of the College Militant, and, for that matter, the latter’s subsequent career, under a separate head, and must confine myself at present to the part which 51 the father of the young institution played or was made to play. His very soul was afire with the idea of giving Cincinnati a great school of medical learning. His whole life from now on was a constant vivid delusion. This is what he, in after years, called his insatiable ambition to teach and to be at the head of a great medical school. It was the one consuming passion of his life, or rather it was the one passion 'that consumed his life. If we are to believe S. D. Gross, Drake might have lived fifteen years longer if that delusion had not taken possession of and destroyed his very being in one lifelong con- flagration. The opening of the first session, November 1, 1820, saw a class of twenty- four students assembled at No. 91 Main Street, where Isaac Drake & Co. conducted a general store. The second floor of the building was reserved for the college. Here Daniel Drake delivered his lectures on the Theory and Prac- tice of Medicine, Obstetrics and Diseases of Women and Children. On Wednesday, April 4, 1821, at 10 a. m., a class of seven graduated. At the public commencement, held in the hall of the Cincinnati College, on Walnut Street, Dr. Drake delivered the following valedictory, which I beg to reproduce from the original manuscript : Young Gentleaien of the Graduating Class — You have this moment received the highest honors which the Medical College of Ohio can confer. It is the duty of him who has the happiness to be the organ of the institution on this interesting occasion, to address you publicly before our official con- nection is dissolved. In proceeding to do this, it would be conformable to custom to expatiate on the means which you should employ to cherish the germs of professional knowledge which have been implanted during your pupilage^ and ripen them into future fame and usefulness. I feel myself, however, irresistibly attracted from this natural and beaten track. It is your fortune to receive the first honors which our school has ever awarded, and you now appear before this respectable assembly of citizens of Ohio, as the first fruits of her medical college — the earliest return made by the institution to that society from which its legal existence was derived. An event so new and momentous must excite in the minds ‘of pupils, professors and spectators, associations of ideas, which it would be unholy in me to dissever; and for the few moments allotted to this address I shall follow them wheresoever they may lead me. On the necessity of having well-educated and skillful physicians, there can, among an intelligent people, be no diversity of opinion. With respect to the necessity of insti- tuting an additional school for medical instruction, a difiference of opinion might occur. Had any contrariety of this kind existed among the people of Ohio before the establish- ment of her medical college, the consummation of its first session in the ceremonies which we are now assembled to perform must completely remove them. That five of you have been for many years her practitioners, that you have seized the earliest opportunity of enrolling yourselves as pupils of her school ; and that you have prosecuted your studies with a zeal and emulation which indicate the measure to have been deferred only from the want of a domestic institution, are facts equally impressive and conclu- sive. If such of you gentlemen, as have attained the meridian of life, considered it neces- sary thus to renew and extend your collegiate studies, how great must be the number in Ohio and the other Western States, who will be emulous of your example. A medical college at an eligible point in the West, was required then, as well for the benefit of a part of the existing practitioners, as for the education of young gentlemen to succeed 52 them. It was this inducement which led, in 1818, when the Western Country was destitute of such an institution, to the projection of the Medical College of Ohio. But can Ohio, and those sister States which will contribute pupils, support a school for medical instruction at this early period? I refer, gentlemen, to yourselves and col- leagues, as affording an affirmative answer to this question. Our first session, although protracted and uncertain in its commencement; destitute of public patronage, unknown even to many of the students of Ohio, and cotemporary with the second session of a powerful and well-supported rival in a neighboring State, has been attended by twenty- five regular pupils, of whom two are from Virginia, three from Kentucky and twenty of Ohio. The Ohio pupils have been supplied by six Counties of the State, which together contain about one-sixth of its population. This, then, would give 120 pupils as the number that Ohio alone can furnish. But let us deduct one-half from the estimate and suppose that after a complete organization shall be effected, she will continue to send not less than sixty pupils annuall5^ The school restricted to this number might be respectable. But no such limitation need be apprehended. The attractions that would allure the pupils of Ohio could not fail to draw others from the neighboring States. The number which might thus be collected, may be estimated by comparing the population of such of those States as are without medical institutions, with the population of Ohio ; or with that of Kentucky, which furnished to the second session of her school not less than sixty-five students. It is certain that the States of the West contain the requisite number of pupils, and, this being the case, nothing remains that can not be supplied, by the enterprise of the professors and the liberality of the public. An edifice, a library, anatomical preparations, chemical apparatus and a hospital are indispensable to its success. These should not be the property of the professors, but of the institution ; and must, therefore, be created and contributed by the State and by society. At present our medical school, although not destitute, is exceedingly deficient in these important aids, and whatever it possesses has been furnished by the professors themselves. It is auspicious, gentlemen, that although so imperfectly supplied, it has not by you been deemed unworthy of notice. To your prompt attendance it will be found here- after to be indebted for much of its prosperity. Had your patronage been withheld until greater facilities could be offered, it might have been unavailing. For the sacrifices you have made by enrolling yourselves as the pupils of the first session, you will be compensated in the reflection that you will receive the honor of having drawn the atten- tion of the community to the institution at a period when the fosterage of that com- munity is essential to its very existence. The citizens of Cincinnati have not heretofore been indifferent to the project, and I venture to indulge the hope that from this very hour they will regard it with affection and approbation. For every kindness it may receive, it will repay an hundredfold ; and when the tongue which now addresses you shall be mute; when yourselves shall rest from your labors in the cause of humanity, and this animated assembly shall be mingled with the dust of the surrounding plain, it will be found to constitute one of her richest mines of wealth, one of the noblest ele- ments of her Cornu Copiae of literary fruits. To those who are thus to receive and transmit the benefits which this institution can impart, we may look with confidence for early and anxious manifestations of good will ; for a vigilant attention to its wants, a sacred regard to its reputation and a determined resolution to support and protect it against every assault. To suppose less than this, would be to impugn the common sense, the feeling, and the liberality of the city. Gentlemen ! During your pupilage you have been petitioners for our institution, and your prayer has been heard. The appropriation for an infirmary for which you solicited the Legislature, has been made. That honorable body (in this instance, I trust, faith- fully representing the people of Ohio), has provided not only for a hospital, but also for a lunatic asylum on such principles as will draw to its wards the lunatics of Ohio and other States in the West. The wisdom of our General Assembly in taking the 53 necessary steps, at this early period, to add to the Medical College an establishment for the study of practical medicine, must secure for them the gratitude of the friends of science, as well as of humanity. It is agreeable to perceive that in every part of the State, this noble act has been applauded by the most intelligent and benevolent citizens. The slightest symptom of general harmony of feeling and unity of impulse, should be hailed and encouraged. Hitherto the different portions of the State have maintained an independent and imperfect life. No vital fluid has circulated from the center to the circumference of the body politic and carried an equal warmth and energy throughout every organ. We have, therefore, but few State institutions, although they are the nerves which establish a common sympathy through society, and without which it must forever be convulsed with opposing propensities and countervailing efforts. The acts which authorize the Medical College and the Hospital, are honorable exceptions to the policy heretofore pursued ; and will eventually advance the progress of reform. They must react upon the people from whom they emanated, and generate among them that pride and emulation which are the true sources of national harmony and strength. The Divine maxim that a house divided against itself can not stand, may be applied as well to the advancement as the protection of the people. Intestive dissensions and jealousies, resemble the morbid actions of a fever which produce debility and delirium. Society has functions to perform which require a harmonious and concerted action at least among its principal members. In every State and in every city, composed of emigrants, it should be the chief political object to introduce and foster this singleness of design and unity of effort, until all shall be ready to co-operate in every project for the common good. Before this is accomplished, it will be in vain to attempt works of national or municipal utility. No splendid edifice can be reared by sinister and dis- cordant architects. Attraction and combination are not less essential in the moral than the physical world. The diamond owes its unfading luster to the particles of charcoal of which it is composed. The stately column of granite derives its imperishable strength and beauty from the firm and intimate union of the three materials of which Nature has formed it. The sands of our great river have been drifted for ages before its waves. Let them become consolidated into rocks, and for ages they will defy the fiercest assaults of its current. In the whole range of national' objects, there are none to which a new State like ours can direct its attention with so much advantage as to literary and scien- tific institutions. While our youth are sent abroad to different academies and colleges, they must continue to return with a diversity of sentiment and manners, most unfavor- able to the abolition of those prejudices, which, like so many atmospheres of repulsion, keep asunder their emigrant fathers, and predispose society to disorder and distraction. Let our sons be educated within our own State, and they will not, like ourselves, be strangers to each other in a strange land. They must become brethren and citizens of Ohio, they will then delight in her prosperity, and emulate each other in every work designed to promote her interests and glory. While we depend, moreover, on the insti- tutions of other States, but few of our young men, comparatively, can be educated. The rich only can send their sons abroad, and these make a small portion of the whole. But, Nature having distributed her intellectual bounties among the poor as liberally as among the rich, it should be the object of every society to avail itself of all her gifts. In two States of the same population, if one should educate every youth a genius, and the other avail itself of those only who are found within the ranks of wealth and for- tune, the march to elevated independence and power would be in ratios exceedingly different. In the former all the talent of the country would be brought into requisition; in the latter, that only which is awarded to a single class. In one case every portion of the common mass would be irrigated by streams of knowledge, in the other, a part only, and the productiveness would be proportional. The population of Ohio is greater than that of Kentucky, but if the latter should place the opportunities for a liberal 54 education within the reach of all her people, but the former compel her sons to seek such opportunities abroad, it is easy to perceive that all the talents of that State would be put into requisition, while the greater part which Heaven might dispense to this, would be suffered to perish like seed sown upon a barren soil. In a century the results of such opposite systems of policy would become so deplorably conspicuous, that travelers to the Athens, would have little difficulty in pointing out the Boeotia of the West. The moneys saved by a State which fosters institutions of learning, and those remitted to it by other States, amount in the course of an age to immense sums ; but these, in reality, constitute a minor part of the benefit which such institutions produce. The great secret of their beneficial operation is the general diffusion of learning which they effect. This diffusion is the true Palladium of liberty. Knowledge is power and independence. If the rich only can acquire learning, they sooner or later effect a monopoly of the functions of the State, and establish a dominion of intellect incompatible with the genius and the stability of republican government. The citizens of Ohio are then exhorted to encourage literary and scientific institu- tions by every consideration which can address itself to their desire for wealth, their love of personal and public consequence, and to their attachment to the principles of a Government, which, if administered with intelligence and virtue, must forever protect both their individual and aggregated rights. Gentlemen, I shall return from this digression, to consecrate a parting moment to other emotions. You have been for five months the pupils of our institution, and I feel it my duty to bear a public testimony to the entire devotion with which you have prosecuted your studies. As if disposed from the beginning to excuse the imperfections of a first session, and by your attainments to impress society with a good opinion of our infant seminary, you have laboured with unwearied diligence to supply our defects, and I do not doubt that society will decide that you have been successful. You have given proofs that you rightly apprehend the nature of the medical profession. It is, indeed, a learned, liberal and difficult vocation. When yon commence or resume its duties, you will, I trust, by your example, sustain it in the possession of these exalted attributes. You will never forget that they should enter into and regulate all the intercourse between physicians and patients. Your chief ambition will be to deserve the confidence of society : your greatest happiness to extend and strengthen that confidence ; not by cunning and address, but by ability with which you discharge your official duties. You will shrink with disgust from the intimation that you may acquire patronage by an easier method than is here indicated : you will turn with indignation from every proposition to commute fame into popularity. You will make science the ground work of your reputation ; and acts of intelligence, honor and benevolence the material of the superstructure. You will thus become shining lights of the profession: you will sit down with the great ones of the earth : the learned will thirst after your conversation : the rich will contribute their homage, the poor will call you blessed, and your names will live and be held in honour. The Commencement being over, the strife among the professors began with renewed vigor. Just eleven months after that memorable first Com- mencement, which should have been and in reality was an apotheosis to Drake’s genius, the man in whose brain the Medical College of Ohio was conceived, in whose heart it was nurtured as the unborn child is by the blood of the mother, the man by whose strong hand the young school was guided during the days of its early childhood, that very man was expelled because two-thirds of the faculty, two men who owed their positions to Drake, willed it so. Reference to this serio-comic affair will be made elsewhere. The 55 expulsion took place March 6, 1822, at the end of the second annual session of the Medical College of Ohio. It was made pos'sible by the intrinsic defect in the Charter which placed the government of the school in the hands of the teaching staff. This is at all times a hazardous arrangement. As far as the management of a school is concerned, its professors should have a right to suggest measures of policy, but the power to adopt and enforce them should belong to a disinterested body of trustees or managers. To invest one or more of the teaching force with both prerogatives and thus make him or them the judge or judges of his or their own conduct, is wrong in principle, and is bound to be disastrous in practice. Medicau Department of Transvevania University Drake’s expulsion horrified the people of Cincinnati. Their demand that the wrong be righted and Drake -reinstated, resulted in the adoption of a resolution one week later to rescind the action of the previous meeting. Drake was reinstated but promptly handed in his resignation. The condition of Drake’s mind can be better imagined than described. All his troubles had been caused by men who wanted to get possession of the fruits of his labor. The school was his offspring, and he contended for it as a parent does for a child. He saw his ideal besmirched by unworthy hands. The invitation, in 1823, to again become a member of the Transyl- vania Faculty, came like a message of redemption. The chair of materia 56 medica was offered to him and he accepted the offer. In the Fall of 1823 he moved with his family to Lexington. He lectured there during the fol- lowing three sessions. The Transylvania School was at that time at the height of its glory. Its faculty comprised the most distinguished men in the West, the total number of its medical students being nearly three hundred. Drake built up a magnificent consultation practice in Lexington, patients coming to him from all parts of the South and West. He had become a national figure, universally respected on account of his great ability and his character. Some of the nation’s celebrities considered it a privilege to know him and to do him honor. Clay, Clinton, Calhoun and others of similar caliber showed their regard for Drake in many ways. He took many trips, visiting different parts of the South, accompanied by his wife, who was not in the best of health. In October, 1825, he was to endure the severest and bitterest of human ordeals. The sweetheart of his youth, whose companion- ship was the one great inspiration of his life, his “own beloved Harriet,” as he affectionately called his wife, died of malignant fever. Her death was a stunning blow to Drake. She who had been “sweetheart, wife, mother, companion, in fact everything” to him, passed to the unknown regions beyond. She was laid away in the old Presbyterian cemetery in Cincinnati (now Washington Park), and years afterwards found a permanent resting- place in Spring Grove, Cincinnati’s beautiful City of the Dead. The old Presbyterian churchyard was at the time of Mrs. Drake’s death not kept in the best of condition. Drake was struck with the desolate look of the place and started a movement to improve its appearance by the planting of trees and the erection of an iron fence. No wife has been more sincerely mourned than was Mrs. Drake. Her bereaved husband always observed the anniversary of her death by solitude, fasting, meditation and the writing of a few memorial lines, often in poetic form. The following poem was written by Drake in 1831, and shows the beautifully tender soul of the man as well as his poetic talent: Ye clouds that veil the setting sun, Dye not your robes in red ; Thou chaste and beauteous rising moon, Thy mildest radiance shed. Ye stars that gem the vault of Heaven, Shine mellow as ye pass ; Ye falling dews of early ev’n. Rest calmly on this grass. Ye fitful zephyrs as ye rise, And win your way along. Breathe softly out your deepest sighs. And wail your gloomiest song. Thou lonely, widowed bird of night. As on this sacred stone, Thou mayest in wandering chance to light, Pour forth thy saddest moan. 57 Ye giddy throng who laugh and stray, Where notes of sorrow sound, And mock the funeral vesper-lay. Tread not this holy ground. For here my sainted Harriet lies, I saw her hallowed form Laid deep below, no more to rise, Before the judgment morn, Drake’s colleagues in Transylvania were loth to see him go. He was universally popular on account of his manly and honest conduct and his ability. He was the dean of the school from 1825 until the time of his departure. Dr. James C. Cross, one of his colleagues in Transylvania and later on a professor in the Medical College of Ohio, in 1834 referred to Drake’s leaving the Lexington School as “a severe calamity and a stroke from which the school has never recovered.” Drake left Lexington in the Spring of 1826 and returned to Cincinnati. He did all this in the interests of his family. This is his statement. I have never been able to understand why he should have made a move that involved a great loss and promised very little compensation for the loss. Was it the love of dear old Cincinnati that always brought him back, a more loyal son of the Queen City than ever? Almost immediately after his return to Cincinnati he had a severe attack of meningitis, which nearly cost him his life. His erstwhile colleague. Dr. Wm. H. Richardson, of Lexington, Ky., rode eighty miles on horseback to come to the bedside of his stricken friend, and remained in Cincinnati until the danger was passed. Drake had hardly recovered, when he was again at work planning and projecting. In 1827 he opened on Third Street, between Main and Walnut Streets, the ‘‘Cincinnati Eye Infirmary” in conjunction with Dr. Jedediah Cobb, that excellent anatomist and popular teacher, whose splendid achievements we shall have occasion to refer to elsewhere. A sad occurrence of the year 1828, (September 28), was the horrible death of Miss Caroline S. Sisson, a sister-in-law of Drake. She had retired for the night when the mosquito bar over her bed caught fire. She called for help, but in spite of the heroic efforts of Drake, who had rushed to her rescue, she perished in the flames. Drake’s hands were badly burned. Three years Drake spent in the faithful discharge of his duties as a much-sought-after physician in Cincinnati, occasionally taking a hand in matters of public interest. He took part in the temperance movement of those days. E. D. Mansfield gives an amusing account of a large public temperance meeting at which Drake spoke. It was in September, 1827, that a public meeting of the citizens was called to convene at the courthouse, and con- sider the subject of temperance. The meeting was held at three o’clock in the afternoon. Many old citizens were present, who were quite familiar with old whisky, and upon whose cheeks it blossomed forth in purple dyes. To these, and indeed to the great body of people in the West, a temperance 58 speech was a new idea. Dr. Drake was the speaker. They listened to him with respectful attention, and were by no means opposed to the object. The speech, however, was long. The doctor had arrayed a formidable column of facts. The day was hot, and, after he had spoken about an hour without apparently approaching the end, someone, out of regard for the doctor’s strength or by the force of habit, cried out: “Let us adjourn awhile 'and take a drink.” The meeting did adjourn, and McFarland’s tavern being near by, the old soakers refreshed themselves with “old rye.” The meeting again assembled, the doctor finished his speech, and all went of? well. Soon after the temperance societies began to be formed, and the excitement then begun has continued to this day. Drake watched with keen interest the trend of events at the college which he had founded. He must have found it galling to see inferior men trying to do the work which he had planned for himself. Eventually his ever- active brain evolved a scheme that would land him in the place which he considered his inalienable right, to-wit : that of the foremost medical teacher in Cincinnati. Jef¥erson College, of Philadelphia, furnished the means to the end. He was offered a chair at Jefferson. The offer in itself was a great moral victory for Drake. In addition to this, his mind was made up in reference to a new medical school which he had decided to found in Cin- cinnati, in order to create a place for himself and to destroy the tottering Ohio College. He had discussed his plans with one or two of the trustees of Miami University at Oxford, Ohio, and had received encouragement. He decided to go to Philadelphia, lecture during one session at Jefferson, and cast about for available men to bring to Cincinnati to make up the faculty of the Medical Department of Miami University, to be started after his return from Philadelphia. Drake was at this time a man of more than national reputation. Three scientific societies of prominence had elected him a member during the year preceding his Philadelphia appointment : the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Science, American Philosophical Society and Royal Wernerian Society of Natural History of Edinburgh, Scotland. Drake made a splendid record in Philadelphia. His class numbered about one hundred students, who simply idolized their new teacher from the West. Before the session was over, he resigned and hurried back to Cin- cinnati, where the professors of the Medical College of Ohio were already shaking in their boots. Drake appeared on the scene with a galaxy of Eastern luminaries that fairly startled the people of the Miami country. He brought with him John Eberle, a “Pennsylvania Dutchman,” crude and erratic, with tremendous ability in his work and a German accent in his speech; James M. Staughton, a good surgeon and a young man of great promise; Thomas D. Mitchell, scholarly but tiresome; John E. Henry, orig- inally from Kentucky, who had already achieved some reputation as a wielder of a facile pen. Two of Drake’s Eastern friends changed their minds about going to Cincinnati. They were George McClellan, the brilliant and erratic 59 founder of Jefferson Aledical College, and Robley Dunglison, of medical dictionary fame. The story of the Medical Department of Miami University with the flourish of trumpets in the first chapter and the smoking of the pipe of peace in the windup, Drake meekly joining in the general love-feast, will be told elsewhere. While Drake’s hopes were not realized, the Medical College of Ohio felt the grip of his masterhand. He failed in the establish- ment of a new school and in the intended destruction of the Ohio College, but he did reconstruct the latter from top to bottom. This was the achieve- ment of the memorable year 1831. That the reconstruction did not suit Drake, was evident from his resignation at the end of the session of 1831-2, when he again became a private citizen and practitioner. Drake’s active and fervent temperament was not adapted to the even tenor of a simple life. This can readily be imagined. The cholera year, 1832, kept him busy practicing his profession, and otherwise working in the in- terests of the public good. In 1832 he began to cultivate society in the better sense of the word than it is usually understood. He lived at Vine and Baker Streets at that time, with two young daughters growing into woman- hood. Here he kept open house for all those who, on account of their cul- ture, cleverness and virtue, were eligible to sit at his fireside. Here he dis- pensed hospitality out of a large buckeye-bowl, which was filled with some innocent beverage and tastefully decorated with buckeye blossoms and branches. Around this festive buckeye-bowl the intellectual elite of the city feasted on corncakes and cornbread. Professor Stowe, a biblical scholar of much renown; Mrs. Stowe, who gave the world ‘'Uncle Tom’s Cabin”; General and Mrs. Edward King, who afterward founded the Philadelphia School of Design; Mr. Albert Pickett, the father of the Cincinnati Public Schools, and many other persons of similar caliber constituted Dr. Drake’s social set. He was the center and promoter of conversation, discussion and amusement. While he was dignified to a degree, he had a merry twinkle in his eye that suggested a fun-loving and joke -playing temperament. The buckeye-bowl ! How many reminiscences of early pioneer days in the Ohio Valley cluster around it! Doctor Drake loved the buckeye, the emblem of our State. His toast, spoken at the forty-fifth anniversary of the first settlement of Cincinnati (1833), ought to be read by every son and daughter of the proud State of Ohio. They, too, would learn “to love the buckeye of the West that possesses the power to permanently unite the hemlock of the North and the palmetto of the South in the same national arbor.” To the College of Teachers, founded in 1833, Dr. Drake gave much time and labor. It was an aggregation of the brightest and most progressive men that were to be found in Cincinnati at that time. It existed for many years and contributed a large share to the intellectual development of this part of our country. Drake’s contributions to the transactions of the Col- lege of Teachers were frequent and most valuable. He usually discussed 60 some phase of education. He advocated compulsory education, the teaching of anatomy and physiology in the common schools, and many other ideas far in advance of his time. Some of his associates in the College of Teachers were Albert Pickett, to whom Cincinnati owes the establishment of her public school system; Alexander Kinmont, one of the most brilliant classical scholars in the educational history of the West; James H. Perkins, author of “Annals of the West,” invaluable on account of their completeness and accuracy; Alexander McGuffey, the famous author of school books, who married one of Drake’s daughters, and Bishop Purcell, who was a tower of moral and mental strength in the early days of Cincinnati. It would seem that Cincinnati, as a whole, has never since reached the level of education and culture that was represented in an aggregation of such men as those named, says E. D. Mansfield. In the early thirties the Medical College of Ohio was in a woeful condition. The troubles and wrangles in the faculty and board of trustees were continuous, involving the medical profession of the city and causing much feeling among the citizens who were naturally interested in the success of their medical college. It is but natural to assume that Drake noticed it all with ill-concealed satisfaction. In 1835 he was approached and asked again to become a professor in the school. Drake was ready, but on one condition : the immediate dismissal of his arch- enemy, Dr. John Moorhead, who at this time was the professor of obstetrics and the diseases of women and children. The bitter enmity of Drake and Moor- head had started many years before and was a favorite topic for the gossips of the town. It added to the already existing disturbed condition of things, and forms a distinct chapter in the medical history of the city. JOHN MOORHEAD (sometimes spelled Morehead) was born in the county of Monaghan, Ireland, in the year 1784. He was, therefore, but one year older than Drake. He attended the University of Edinburgh, and, after finishing his medical course, passed the examination for the medical service in the English army. Edinburgh, at that time, attracted a good many Ameri- cans. John Bell was the giant of the medical faculty, and very popular with his American pupils. Ephraim McDowell, it will be remembered, was a student under Bell. It was through the influence of his American fellow- students at Edinburgh that Moorhead conceived the idea of going to America. In 1820 he came to Cincinnati, where two of his brothers were living, and decided to remain here for awhile. He met Drake and promptly took a strong dislike to him, which was cordially reciprocated. When Drake, on December 30, 1819, caused the Legislature to pass an amendatory act per- taining to the appointment and dismissal of professors, he was made the target of much abuse and vilification, mainly through the columns of the Western Spy. The writers were anonymous. Drake had his suspicions in regard to the identity of the writers and answered the various anonymous communications in a letter to the editor of the Western Spy. This was the • 61 beginning of a long and bitter newspaper war, in which nearly every prom- inent physician in the town became involved. Finally, the fight narrowed down to Drake and Moorhead. The letters published by these two men were long and frequent. Moorhead particularly had a happy way of saying some very impolite things in a most courteous manner, by diluting the venom in a superfluity of well-worded and long drawn-out sentences. One day the men met on the river front. Moorhead was waiting for an incoming boat when Drake happened along. Moorhead, in an undertone, said some sar- castic things about Drake, and the good fortune of the Ohio College in John Moorhead having Drake at the helm. This was too much for the fiery Drake. A rough and tumble fight followed, in which the clumsy and awkward Moorhead got the worst of it. With his eyes blackened and his scalp laid open he was led from the battlefield. The next scene in this serio-comic performance was a challenge sent by Moorhead to Drake to fight a duel with pistols ‘‘like a gentleman.” Drake could not see things that way and declined the challenge, whereupon Moorhead made up his mind that Drake was no gen- tleman and forthwith ignored him. Shortly after, Benjamin Drake, the doctor’s brother, and Moorhead were involved in a quarrel, during which Moorhead was severely cut. The manner in which Drake was being discussed in the public prints by his enemies in the profession, Moorhead, Oliver B. Baldwin and others, would have exasperated even a less inflammable individual. Baldwin speaks of him as the “notorious Daniel Drake,” “a common disturber of the peace,” refers to “his ungovernable passion for brawls,” says that “he is no gentle- man,” that he is “an unqualified liar,” that he indulges “in vulgar wit,” that “he plagiarizes his lectures,” that he is “full of arrogance, malignity and meanness.” Moorhead calls him “a calumniator,” emphasizes his “talents of professional insolence,” his “lust of quarreling,” says that “he proceeds after 62 the manner of a common assassin,” that he is “a domineering coward,” that his character is ‘‘a combination of vices,” that “he possesses rare powers of invention,” Moorhead’s letters were characteristic of the man : very voluble, verbose, circumstantial, courteous even in their malignity, full of clumsy attempts at irony and sarcasm. One can not but marvel at the naive spirit of the times that would tolerate six columns of a purely personal character in a public print. Drake’s letters of reply stamp him as the better man from every point of view. His innuendos are clever, his sarcasm delightful, his style faultless, A sense of artistic moderation pervades his utterances. His letters were short, almost epigrammatic, compared to Moorhead’s long- winded epistles. Several times Drake ignored Moorhead’s attacks, and in this way precipitated a new outbreak on the part of his “irritated foreign friend,” as Drake called Moorhead. This war of words and letters con- tinued for a long time. The people of Cincinnati were alternately amused and excited ; the principals in the fight were relieved by having a chance to get rid of excess steam. In reading the Western Spy of those days (1820), one is reminded of the speech-making heroes of the Trojan war, or of the complaint of the ancient arrowmaker in “Hiawatha,” who finds fault with the men that fight like women — “using but their tongues as weapons.’’ A delightful sketch of Moorhead is given in the personal reminiscences of an old Ohio student, published anonymously (“Clinic,” 1873), at the time of Moorhead’s death. The following is an excerpt : “I first saw Dr. Moorhead forty-three years ago, and heard his course of lectures then upon the practice of medicine. Very well do I remember the first Monday in November, 1830. I then entered the Medical College of Ohio as a student. All of the professors, that morning, at 9 o’clock, were sitting around a long, wide table. Commencing at one, paying fee and taking ticket, every student continued until he had made the entire round. To the best of my recollection, each professor, that morning got about six hundred dollars. I remember to have thought it quite a princely business, and looked upon those grave philosophers, as I took every one to be, with absolute awe, wondering if they had not descended from the gods, to have attained such wonderful distinction ! I stopped one of them on the street the next day, to beg of him a prescription to relieve a poor man in my neighborhood of a hemiplegia, and I had not a doubt but what a few cabalistic hieroglyphics of his, on a scrap of paper, would confer on me the power of making my poor friend whole — that he might leap, with recreated energy, and go on his way rejoicing.” “And now the lectures began. With the exception of Cobb, each of them sat down on a chair and read his lecture straight along from one end to the other, when, saying ‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ he left, to make way for another.” “Moorhead wore black buckskin boots, drawn on over his pantaloons, which were of black plush. I had no doubt that such boots were only for those in the highest walks of philosophy, and wondered if it were possible for any of his colleagues, or of the students before him, ever to attain so sublime a height as to be entitled to such boots as those. I had never seen any like them before, nor. have I since. All the other pro- 63 fessors trudged about on foot to their patients, if at any time they had any; but Moor- head, who always had plenty of them, rode an old gray mare, heavy in foal.” “Moorhead had his lectures written on small note paper, and carried the one selected for the day in a thick and rather greasy-looking pocketbook, which he would extract from his side pocket, after taking his seat, untie its fastenings, and, lifting sheet by sheet, read them as one might read a letter aloud at his own fireside. His brogue was terrible, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I could comprehend him. I believe a large majority of the class never tried. I never saw him make but one gesture. He was talking of salivation, and said : ‘Some of your patients, hereafter, upon a morning visit, will’ (and here he carried his forefinger and thumb to his upper right canine, and motioned, as if extracting it), ‘will reproachfully say, “See here. Doctor !” ’ ” “He had a large collection of pills, plasters and things, in an old frame building fronting the levee, and a brother, as I understood, who was a ‘surgeon,’ and who was pretty generally on hand here, and who, I remember, prescribed ‘searching cathartics,’ so popular with his brother. I did not hear that he did any other surgery.” (Dr. Robert Moorhead, who had been a surgeon in the British army, died in Cincinnati in *1845.) “Doctor Moorhead always said that he would prescribe for no one who did not have on a flannel shirt. He would not prescribe for a roommate of mine until he got one, which was not an easy thing, in the absence of a subscription, for the poor fellow to do.” “Doctor Moorhead got married, for the first time, during this Winter, and, on the night of the wedding the students had a meeting, and appointed an ‘orator’ to con- gratulate him next day, at his lecture hour. Sure enough, next day, just as the doctor was taking his seat, at a preconcerted signal, the whole class arose as one man, when our orator, a very tall, gaunt man, with enormous porterhouse steak whiskers, as red as blazes, fired away, and in hot haste was up among the stars, and walking the milky- way as fearlessly as a conjurer dances on a tightrope. When he was through, we all sat down, and so did the doctor, and, leisurely taking out his old leather pocketbook, he untied the string, took out a sheet and commenced reading, as if nothing in the world had happened.” “When he went to see a patient, of whose financial rank he was ignorant, he no sooner entered the room than he asked, pencil and paper in hand: ‘Who pays this bill?’ Moorhead had the habit of carrying his money, preferably silver, with him, tied up in a red bandana handkerchief.” Moorhead was a man of ability, although lacking in brilliancy. He was a slow and pedantic lecturer, full of dignity and importance. In stature he was clumsy and ponderous. He was in no sense of the word a match for the wiry, agile, active, seductively eloquent and brilliant Drake. The latter loved a good chance for the display of his mettle. In 1826, when Samuel Thomson, the founder of the Thomsonian system, came to Cincinnati and made many converts to his new creed, Drake challenged him to a public debate. In 1828 the students of the Medical College of Ohio started a debating society and frequently asked invited guests to take part in the discussions. Drake was invited and simply electrified his audience by an extemporaneous address on medical education. He was at that time a bitter enemy of the Ohio faculty, and attended the students’ meeting without any one of the professors knowing about it. In spite of the existing feud he did not hesitate to invade the camp of the enemy and appear before the 64 students of the hostile college. Moorhead was particularly bitter in his denunciation of Drake. Being a good, conscientious practitioner, he had many friends in Cincinnati who sided with him against Drake. The enmity of the two men lasted fully twenty years, and only ceased when Drake left Cincinnati for Louisville, in 1839, and had no more occasion to worry about his old antagonist who held the professorship of practice until 1849, when he, upon his father’s death, permanently settled on his estate in Ireland, became Sir John Moorhead and led the life of a gentleman of wealth and leisure. Moorhead was made professor of practice in the Medical College of Ohio in 1825. He held this chair for six years, when he was transferred to the chair of obstetrics and diseases of women and children. After nine sessions he again became professor of practice. He left in 1849 and he was followed in his chair by his old enemy, Daniel Drake. The manner in which ironical Fate happened to arrange this session, we shall see later on. Moorhead died in Ireland in 1873. During his residence in Cincinnati he had a strong fol- lowing among the profession. He was respected on account of his learning and dignified conduct. “Old Hydrarg,” as he was popularly known, was a believer in blue mass and calomel. One of his favorite means of practical illustration was the careful inspection of the faeces. Frequently he would cause a vessel to be passed among the class, and insist upon careful study of the appearance and odor of the contents. If any one of the students ob- jected, Moorhead would say to him in his slow and deliberate manner: “There may not be any poetry in that vessel, but there is quite a good deal of learning in it.” In 1835, when the complete collapse of the Medical College of Ohio seemed inevitable, Drake was called to save the ship. As stated above, his demand was the summary dismissal of Moorhead, “the foreigner.” The latter appellation was singularly significant in view of the fact that Moor- head was in the habit of spending only his Winters in Cincinnati. His Summers he spent on his father’s estate in Ireland. Yet, his friends were powerful enough to sustain him in the face of Drake’s demand. Moorhead held the fort and Drake, who was determined to crush the Ohio College, founded the Medical Department of the Cincinnati College. This was, in more ways than one, the crowning event of Drake’s career as a builder of medical schools. The story of this short-lived but greatest medical school Cincinnati, or perhaps the West, has ever seen, will be told elsewhere. The men who were associated with Drake in the new venture were the brainiest, most brilliant and famous medical teachers of the day, particularly Samuel D. Gross, who left the Medical College of Ohio and joined Drake; Willard Parker, a peerless surgeon; J. B. Rogers, a chemist of national reputation, and others. This school was abandoned after four years of a valiant fight for supremacy. Daniel Drake during these three years was at his best as a teacher of medicine. S. D. Gross has given us such a graphic sketch of Drake in 66 those days, that I beg to reproduce the excellent word-picture penned by Gross : “Drake was a handsome man with fine blue eyes and manly features. He had a commanding presence, being nearly six feet tall, having a fine intellectual forehead. His step was light and elastic, his manner simple and dignified. He was always well- dressed, and around his neck he had a long gold watch chain, which rested loosely upon his vest. He was a great lecturer. His voice was clear and strong, and he had the power of expression which amounted to genuine eloquence. When under full sway, every nerve quivered and his voice could be heard at a great distance. At such times, his whole soul would seem to be on fire. He would froth at the mouth, swing to and fro like a tree in a storm, and raise his voice to the highest pitch. With first course students he was never popular, not because there was anything disagreeable in his manner, but because few of them had been sufficiently educated to seize the import of his utterances.” Gross characterizes Drake by saying he was easy of access, kind and genial, a hater of vulgarity and immorality, a lover of children and of innocent fun, a thoroughly noble Christian gentleman. His modesty bordered on affectation. In 1850 he refused the presidency of the American Medical Association because “he was not worthy of such honor.” He did not want to go to Europe because he was afraid of meeting great physicians, men of university education, who had had greater advantages than himself. “I think too much of my country to place myself in so awkward a position.” Drake said this at a time when his name was spoken with respect everywhere in England and on the Continent. After the collapse of the Medical Department of the Cincinnati College (1839), Drake, worn out and thoroughly disgusted, accepted an appointment as professor of materia medica and pathology at the Louisville Medical In- stitute, later on being made professor of practice. He moved to Louisville in 1840 and remained there for almost ten years, teaching, practicing and preparing his monumental work on the “Diseases of the Interior Valley of North America.” In 1850, when the Medical College of Ohio was again passing through a most critical period, its friends thought of Daniel Drake, now the foremost physician in the West, honored and beloved at home and abroad. It was thought that his name and his genius would save the founder- ing craft. The old Ohio College turned its longing eyes towards him who thirty years before had given it its existence, and bade him return. Did he return? When on November 5, 1849, at the opening of the thirtieth session of the Medical College of Ohio, the tall figure of Daniel Drake, as handsome and as erect as ever, though the frosts of sixty-four Winters had slightly silvered his temples, appeared before the class — received by the stu- dents as no one had ever been received before — it seemed as though Destiny had reserved that particular triumph for him, as a vindication of his long struggle in the interests of all that is good and pure in the profession. Where were the men who had fought him, who had attempted to take from him the fruits of his labor? Where were the Jesse Smiths, the Moorheads 66 and all the others of lesser renown? There he stood, the Daniel Drake of old, like an Olympic hero receiving the thundering acclaim of those whose approval was the one thing in all the world to him worth possessing. In that hour all the bitterness of the past was forgotten. His was the battle, and his the great final victory. With a suggestion of moisture in his eyes and ill-concealed tremulous emotion in his voice, standing before the stu- dents whose vociferous applause would not down, and amid the professors and trustees who had assembled to do him honor, Drake opened his heart and I.ouisvirnE Medicae Institute revealed the secret of that delusion that had pursued him through thirty years of his life. It was the confession of a father who had found his long- lost child. Drake said : “My heart still fondly turned to my first love, your alma mater. Her image, glowing in the warm and radiant tints of earlier life, was ever in my view. Tran- sylvania had been reorganized in 1819, and included in its faculty Professor Dudley, whose surgical fame had already spread throughout the West, and that paragon of labor and perseverance, Professor Caldwell, now a veteran octogenarian. In the year after my separation from this school, I was recalled to that ; but neither the eloquence of colleagues, nor the greeting of the largest classes, which the university ever enjoyed, could drive that beautiful image from my mind. After four sessions I resigned, and was subsequently called to Jefferson Medical College, Philadelphia; but the image mingled with my shadow ; and when we reached the summit of the mountain, it bade me stop and gaze upon the silvery cloud which hung over the place where you are now assem- bled. Afterward, in the Medical Department of Cincinnati College, I lectured with men 67 of power, to young men thirsting for knowledge, but the image still hovered round me. I was then invited to Louisville, became a member of one of the ablest faculties ever embodied in the West, and saw the halls of the university rapidly filled. But when I looked on the faces of four hundred students, behold ! the image was in their midst. While there I prosecuted an extensive course of personal inquiry into the causes and cure of the diseases of the interior valley of the continent; and in journeyings by day, and journeyings by night, on the water and on the land, while struggling through the matted rushes where the Mississippi mingles with the Gulf, or camping with the Indians and Canadian boatmen, under the pines and birches of Lake Superior, the image was still my faithful companion, and whispered sweet words of encouragement and hope. I bided my time; and, after twice doubling the period through which Jacob waited for his Rachel, the united voice of the trustees and professors has recalled me to the chair which I held in the beginning.” Drake’s Residence (1850) (Now the site of 124 We.st Fourth Street) Surely, if every man who has ever been connected with the old Ohio College in the capacity of a teacher or a trustee, or both, had been imbued with the patriotism and the sentiments of pure, unselfish devotion, that in- spired these words of Daniel Drake, the old Ohio would have never descended from that regal throne that should be, and, for a time, was her station. Daniel Drake, mirahile dictu, resigned at the end of the session. He yearned for peace and quiet such as he had enjoyed in Louisville. The Medical College of Ohio was still the scene of incessant wrangling and fight- ing. Drake was disenchanted. He had sought the realization of the dreams of his youth in vain. He returned to Louisville, where he was received with open arms. Parental love is a peculiar product. Its roots lie deep in the human heart, and are nourished by the blood of the heart itself. It is blood- love, and lives and dies with the blood — “Bhit ist ein ganz hesond’rer SaftT 68 This explains the return of Drake to his wayward child, in 1852, when he was again asked to come back and stay the seemingly inevitable dissolution. He began his college work, but took sick on October 26, after attending a public meeting held by the people of Cincinnati to honor the memory of Daniel Webster. Drake had been indisposed for more than a week. Shortly after his return from the Webster meeting he was seized with a violent chill which was followed by vomiting and great depression. He took to his bed with all the physical signs of pneumonia. From the very beginning of the attack the outlook seemed doubtful. He grew weaker from day to day, and seemed to realize that he was fast approaching the end of his earthly career. His friends, Drs. Wm. S. Ridgeley and Wolcott Richards, were in constant at- tendance. Alexander H. McGuffey, his son-in-law, who was with Drake in his last hours, describes the parting of the distinguished man as follows: “He had made his peace with God and was resigned to meet his Maker. A few hours before his death, when loudly called by a familiar voice, he would partially open his eyes ; and during the forenoon he made faint efforts to swallow the fluids which were placed in his mouth. But the lethargy steadily gained ground, and his breathing became more and more labored, until about five o’clock, when his pulse became im- perceptible and his breathing less heavy. His breathing became gentler and shorter, till, at last, it ceased so gradually that we could not say when his lungs ceased their functions. But just at this solemn moment, when all eyes were fixed on the face of the departing, he closed his mouth most naturally, drew up and placed upon his breast the right hand, which had for hours lain motionless by his side, the eyes opened and beamed with an unearthly radiance, as if at the same time clasping in and reflecting the glories of heaven, and — the spirit was with God, who gave it.” He died on the sixth day of November, 1852. His obsequies assumed the character of a public demonstration. It seemed as though every person in Cincinnati was a mourner. They all unconsciously felt that one of the na- tion’s great men had departed. He was laid to rest in beautiful Spring Grove, where he lies at the side of her whom he had never ceased to love and mourn. He sleeps beneath a modest shaft of sandstone, which today is crumbling. Others whose lives were of no import have monuments of royal splendor. Republics are notoriously ungrateful. In reality, Daniel Drake needs no monument to remind posterity of his work and worth. That miserable shaft is a monument of Cincinnati’s shame. E. D. iMansfield, in his ‘‘Personal Reminiscences,” says : “Over the graves of Cincinnati’s heroic pioneers there is not a single monument which gives to the passing stranger an idea of their work, and the future city of Cincinnati, great in art and population, will know little of its founders or its benefactors.” Cincinnati has been too busy perpetuating the memory of its lesser lights on the walls of its schoolhouses and public buildings to think of those giants of the past who, like Daniel Drake, were the architects of our national greatness. 69 Daniei. Drake’s Monument in Spring Grove Cemetery, Cincinnati, Ohio The legend on the monument, which marks the last resting-place of Daniel Drake, reads: Sacred to the memory of Daniel Drake, a learned and distinguished physician, an able and philosophic writer, an eminent teacher of the medical art, a citizen of ex- emplary virtue and public spirit, a man rarely equalled in all the gentler qualities which adorn social and domestic life. His fame is indelibly written in the records of his country. His good deeds, impressed on beneficent public institutions, endure forever. He lived in the fear of God and died in the hope of salvation. He who rests here was an early inhabitant and untiring friend of the City of Cin- cinnati with whose prosperity his fame is inseparably connected. 70 CHAPTER VL DRAKE AS A MEDICAL AUTHOR. I N following Drake through his long and eventful life we are struck with the versatility of his talents. He was indeed a singularly gifted man. In addition to this, he was distinctly a man of affairs, full of ambition, energy and determination. He had a quick, intuitive judgment and grasped a situation with remarkable facility. Like Bacon, he identified an underlying principle almost coincidently with recognizing the fact which embodied it. In his reasoning from facts to ideas and principles he was rapid, intense and incisive. He would have made a good professor of philosophy, yet, he was emotional to a degree and could mix flights of fancy and logical evolution easily and skillfully. He was, therefore, a natural orator who could harangue a political gathering or a religious meeting with equal success. He would have made a capital actor. He was always ready to talk. Artful silence was foreign to him. He would have been a Machiavelli, a Talleyrand or a Moltke if he had been able to use his tongue for the purpose of hiding rather than divulging his thoughts. He would have made an ideal preacher because his mind, his heart and his tongue were always perfectly attuned. He had no fitness to be a politician in the pulpit, in the rostrum or in the lecturer’s chair. If he had been less scrupulously honest, he would have made a good lawyer. Constituted as he was, he would have made a better incumbent of the bench than a member of the bar. He was a protester by nature, an iconoclast by cultivation, a reformer by force of habit. Taking him all in all, he was best fitted for the medical profession, using the latter term in its pure and ideal sense. To him truth was everything. When he founded the Medical College of Ohio, he was moved by an ideal which he wished to embody in the interests of science and pro bono publico. When he founded the Com- mercial Hospital, he was animated by the love of humanity and of scientific progress. The petty schemes of the latter-day medical politician who seeks his own gain, his own aggrandizement in the working out of his schemes was foreign to him. Colleges, hospitals and medical societies are frequently used by the small medical politician as stepping-stones or pedestals. Large men like Drake do not need either.\^ A man like Drake lifts the college, the hospital and the society to his level. The small medical politician debauches them by pulling them down to his own niveau. This is the difference between men of the Daniel Drake type and his small imitators of later days. There was only one thing in his make-up that was equal to his tongue. It was his pen. He wielded the pen as few medical men have handled it. 71 The delightful diction of an Austin Flint, the clear and logical analysis of a Roberts Bartholow, the engaging, light, graceful and often satirical style of the feuilleton so masterfully handled by a William Osier, and the minuteness and painstaking accuracy of detail so characteristic of a George M. Gould, they all enter into Daniel Drake’s splendid mastery of the pen. Considering the imperfection of his early education, it seems more wonderful than ever that he should have been facile princeps among his many contemporaries who were educated and trained litterateurs. The greatest of them all was un- doubtedly John D. Godman. Compared to his colleagues, with the exception of Drake, Godman was of transcendentally superior quality as a medical author. John D. Godman has been likened to that young man and great genius, Bichat, of France. He, too, died at an early age but left his footprints in John D. Godman the sands of time. He will always be spoken of as one of the medical leaders of his age. Godman held the chair of surgery in the Medical College of Ohio for one session. It was the second session in the history of the college and there was excitement enough for everybody. Drake had been forcibly eliminated and was in the mood resembling that of Marius sitting on the ruins of Carthage and thinking about ways of getting even with the ungrateful Roman republic. Godman was a mild-mannered young man, not in the best of health and wrapped up in his work. His fort was anatomy rather than surgery. Anatomy with him was an art as well as a science. He was a product of Maryland, a native of Wilmington, where he was born in 1794. In his boyhood he was a printer’s apprentice. In 1814 when the war raged in the Chesapeake, he became a sailor under Commander Barney, and was engaged in the service at the bombardment of Fort McHenry. His first experience on board of ship moulded the character of the young man. He was ordered to the masthead, and, while ascending, looked down, became dizzy and was about to fall when the stentorian voice of the captain almost 72 shook the ship : “Look aloft, you lubber !” He looked aloft, became self- possessed and did what he had been told to do. Godman often in after life told how the captain’s stern command many times rang in his ears in moments of doubt and anxiety. When the heart is growing faint and the fear of men and their opinions is creeping over one’s inner self, how gloriously the com- mand of conscience and self-respect rings through one’s soul, and brings one back to honor and self : “Look aloft, you lubber !” Godman, in 1816, managed to attend medical lectures in Baltimore. In- cidentally he studied Latin, Greek, French, German and Italian, and became a brilliant linguist. He was twenty-four years old when he graduated from the Medical Department of the University of Maryland. Three years after his graduation he became professor of surgery in Cincinnati. In the East he was esteemed as a remarkable anatomist and promising surgeon. It was his great and rapidly earned reputation that, secured for him the appointment at the Ohio College. He was thoroughly disgusted at the end of the term and resigned. He remained in Cincinnati for a number of months, but finally went to Philadelphia to practice medicine and do scientific work in a more congenial atmosphere. When, in 1826, Hosack, Mott and others founded that short-lived but brilliant medical school called Rutgers Medical College, Godman was given the chair of anatomy. He was then the leading American anatomist. Valentine Mott was his special friend and admirer. He soon broke down entirely, had to give up teaching and practicing, and died in Philadelphia in 1830, thirty-six years of age, of tuberculosis. Godman throughout his whole life sufifered'the pangs of poverty. “During my whole life,” he was wont to say, “I have eaten the bread of sorrow and drunk the cup of misery.” Gross, who met Godman in 1828, describes him as a thin, frail, sickly-looking man with a pallid face, heavy brow and a clear, sonorous voice, interrupted at intervals by a hacking cough. Godman was a voluminous writer. He not only wrote on anatomical subjects, but on natural history and collateral topics. His paper on “Fasciae” is a classic. His “Contributions to Physiological and Pathological Anatomy” attracted much attention. He edited and annotated “Bell’s Anatomy”. A book written in a most happy vein is his “Rambles of a Naturalist.” Uodman founded and edited the first medical journal in Cincinnati, or, for that matter, in the AVest, under the title of “The Western Quarterly Reporter of Medical, Surgical, and Natural Science.” The first number appeared March, 1822. His publisher was Mr. John P. Foote (father of Dr. H. E. Foote, at one time a professor in the Miami Medical College), a public-spirited citizen, himself quite a writer, and interested in literary and scientific pursuits. He conducted a book store at No. 14 Lower Market Street, and later on did much for the Medical College of Ohio as president of its board of trustees. Mr. John P. Foote should be gratefully remembered by the people of Cincinnati as one of its most useful citizens during the first century of its existence. He assumed the financial responsibility of Godman’s journal and contributed 73 articles on natural history. The journal was quite a pretentious publication. Each issue contained over one hundred pages. After six issues the journal was discontinued, Godman going- to Philadelphia. Godman was the first medical editor in Cincinnati. Drake had a very high opinion of Godman’s ability and wrote for his journal. That Godman’s path as a medico-literary pioneer was not strewn with roses is not surprising. The medical profession has always had its share of men who would block progress at any cost and embitter the work of progressive men at all hazards. Says Godman in his introduction : “To deviate from a beaten track, is at all times sufficient to startle the fears of the prejudiced and faint-hearted. Fortunately for us, we live in an age and country where innovation on established follies draws down nothing but harmless thunder, noise, but not fire. Truth is too little affected by it to be disturbed, and mankind are con- vinced experimentally, that folly never is changed into wisdom, by age.” Godman, however, was confident: “As to the manner in which our first attempt is to be received and estimated abroad, we feel undisturbed. If we have new facts to adduce, new modes of thinking to offer, or new modes of action to propose, they are to be examined and tested by the rules of right reason and common sense, which are confined to no location. If there be some sneers at propositions we make, or plans we lay down, a sneer is not an argument, any more than assertion is proof. In short, if our mode of proceeding, however new, be supported by reason and confirmed by actual experiment, we are sure to receive the greatest of all human justifications — success.” In the second issue of. his journal Godman published a Neurological Table, exhibiting a view of the nerves of the head, showing their origin, course, relation, distribution, connection, function, comparative anatomy and giving their synonyms. This table shows Godman’s studious habits and scholarly achievements. Godman like the voluble Caldwell, of Transylvania, was an earnest stu- dent of phrenology and other speculative lines of investigation. He con- tributed a number of interesting articles on phrenology to his journal and translated articles from the Dutch on the same subject. From the French he translated articles on Medical Jurisprudence. In Number III of his journal he published an interesting entomological chart by J. Dorfeuille, who was one of the curators of the Western Museum in Cincinnati. (This museum, of which Drake was one of the founders, was at that time (1822) the fourth in size in the United States. In point of scientific value it stood second. Dorfeuille was one of the curators, another one was Robert Best, distinguished chemist, [born in 1790 in Somersetshire, England; in America since his twelfth year. Rev. Elijah Slack’s assistant during the first session of the Medical College of Ohio, lecturer on chemistry at Transylvania in 1823, author of a book on medical chemistry, M. D. in 1826 at Transylvania, died 1830, a nervous wreck]. J. J. Audubon, the famous ornithologist, was for awhile connected with the Western Museum. Dorfeuille afterwards gained fame and recognition as a naturalist in Europe.) 74 An editorial on “Medical Journals” could be profitably read by medical editors even today. Godman pleads for pure and forcible English and complains that most medical editors do not seem to know their mother-tongue. Godman’s ideas about “Medical Education” were lofty and pure, almost too exalted even for our own advanced notions on the same subject. In discussing “Med- ical Quarrels,” he complains bitterly of the smallness and moral decrepitude of many members of the profession, even among those who pose as types of ethical, respectable medical gentlemen. Godman was an enthusiastic admirer and follower of Benjamin Rush, whom he refers to as being incomparably great and deservedly immortal. In regard to drugs Godman was a skeptic, not to say a cynic. Considering the times of drug-superstition and drug- mania in which he lived, his cynicism in and of itself stamps him as an extraordinary man. Godman shows himself in his journal just as he was, scholarly, independent and thoroughly devoted to medicine and the natural sciences. He was widely known and respected. The Medical Society of Maryland, the Baltimore Medical Society and the Cincinnati Medical Society had elected him an honorary member before he had completed his twenty- eighth year. He was not a local celebrity. He belonged to the Nation as one of the foremost medical scholars of his time. The Medical College of Ohio can well be proud of that one session during which a man of his caliber was a member of the faculty. This was the man who disputed with Drake the honor of being the fore- most medical writer in the West. The two men, as they appear to us, can well be placed beside each other. They were distinct individualities, however, even in point of style and diction. Godman was correct, erudite and polished. Drake was trenchant, vigorous and full of fire and animation. Both made deep impressions on the rank and file of the profession. This is evident from the honors they received simultaneously. The Pittsburg Medical Society, in 1823, elected both honorary members. That this honor was one not to be despised is shown by the names of others who were also thus honored : the German clinician Hufeland, the German physiologist Osiander and that prince of surgeons, Dupuytren. It was in Godman’s Journal that Drake began his career as a medical author. A volume containing the complete set of six issues of Godman’s Journal is well worth possessing and preserving. Cin- cinnati has produced but one journal that was equal to it (Drake’s Western Journal of the Medical Sciences), but none superior. In the Spring of 1826 the “Ohio Medical Repository,” a semi-monthly, was begun by Drs. Guy W. Wright and James M. Mason, both being Western graduates and intensely patriotic with reference to everything pertaining to the West. Their ambition was to give the profession a Western medical journal edited by Western doctors. Dr. Mason retired after the first year, Drake taking his place. It became a monthly under the title of “Western Medical and Physical Journal, original and eclectic.” Drake soon became the sole owner and editor and issued it under the name of the “Western Journal of the Medical and Physical Sciences.” Its motto engraved upon a picture of the Cornus Florida was very suggestive; E sylvis niinchis. Drake’s collaborators were John C. Dunlavy, of Hamilton, Ohio, an early graduate of the Medical College of Ohio; James C. Finley, a young Cincinnati physi- cian ; Dr. Wm. Wood, also a local physician ; Drs. S. D. Gross and John P. Harrison, professors in the Medical College of Ohio. In 1839 Drake took the journal with him to Louisville, where it was subsequently combined with the “Louisville Journal of Medicine and Surgery,” which was issued by the professors of the “Louisville Medical Institute.” The files of Drake’s “Western Journal of the Medical and Physical Sciences” represent medical archives of extraordinary scientific and historical value, principally on account of the contributions which Drake himself made to his journal. His contributions included case reports, papers on the path- ology and treatment of special diseases, articles on medical education and kindred subjects. He traveled extensively and wrote interestingly on any- thing and everything in connection with what he saw, heard, learnt and thought while away, including the botany, geology, etc., of the country traversed. A characteristic paper by Drake was written by him in 1827 on “The Modus Operandi and the Effects of Medicines,” an heroic effort to systematize a non-classifiable subject. This essay throws considerable light on Drake’s therapeutic notions. He was a champion of moderation of dosage and adaptation of physiological effects to pathologic processes. Considering the time in which he wrote, he was distinctly in advance of his contempo- raries. A memorable essay was on “Intemperance,” in which he expounded with great energy and at considerable length the well-worn philosophy of the temperance advocates. His arguments are directed principally against whis- key drinking. That Drake, in his belligerent moods, used his journal as an outlet for his ire and venom, especially during his struggle against the Med- ical College of Ohio, it is but natural to suppose. His articles against the professors of that institution are characteristic of the man and of the situa- tion. In point of acridity and biting sarcasm these articles left nothing to be desired. In spite of Drake’s attitude some of the Ohio professors wrote for his journal. The most noteworthy among his contributions were his seven essays on “Medical Education and the Medical Profession in the Lmited States.” He published them in book form in 1832, and dedicated them to the students composing the twelfth class of the Medical College of Ohio. The titles of the seven essays were : 1. Selection and Preparatory Education of Pupils. 2. Private Pupilage. 3. Medical Colleges. 4. Studies, Duties and Interests of Young Physicians. 5. Causes of Error in the Medical and Physical Sciences. 6. Legislative Enactments. 7. Professional Quarrels. These essays have lost none of their truth, vigor and pertinence and can be profitably read even today. They are typical of the man, earnest, animated and permeated through- out by an idealism that is inspiring. The diction is matchless. 76 Considering that he was a self-appointed, then dismissed, later reinstated and duly appointed professor of medicine, his utterances about “Medical Colleges” are of peculiar interest. He favored a graded course of four years, thought it wise to demand a classical education on the part of those who wished to study medicine, and emphasized the importance of bedside instruction. To those who would like to be professors in a medical college, but have never found the magic key that opens the portals of a faculty- room where one at once absorbs wisdom, dignity and that higher form of humanity that the common herd can not understand, the following lines penned by Drake may be a source of solace : “Did the best talent of the American profession find its way into our numerous schools, it can not be doubted that they would be ably sustained; but truth and justice require me to say that this is not always the case; and that every part of the Union presents men of loftier genius, sounder learning and purer eloquence than many of those whom the trustees of our different institutions from time to time select as pro- fessors.” In 1832 the cholera visited Cincinnati. In order to help in the dissemina- tion of knowledge concerning the nature of the epidemic, Drake published a small booklet in which he discussed (1) the Geography and Chronology of the Disease, (2) the Causes of the Disease, (3) the Symptoms of the Dis- ease, (4) the Appearances after Death, (5) the Nature of the Disease, (6) the Treatment of the Disease, and (7) the Prevention and Mitigation of the Disease. His notions concerning the etiology of the disease are interesting. He sees the morbific cause in the existence of myriads of living organisms (“animalcules”) in the water. They are too small to be seen and have never been isolated. The book on cholera was not particularly well received by the profession or the laity. Drake made no attempt at originality. His object was to present whatever was known on the subject at that time. Never having seen a case of cholera before his book was written, Drake was not thought competent to write authoratively on the subject. Drake wrote and published many minor discourses on a variety of topics medical and otherwise. He even wrote religious essays for religious period- icals and discourses for Sunday meetings of medical students. In the latter discourses he discussed the moral and ethical side of the profession. Among his smaller literary productions the best are without a doubt: 1. “A Dis- course on Northern Lakes and Southern Invalids” (1842). 2. “Early Med- ical Times in Cincinnati,” and “Medical Journals and Libraries.” In the first- named discourse Drake displays his magnificent powers as a word-painter of natural scenes and phenomena. The last two discourses were delivered before the Cincinnati Medical Library Association, January 9 and 10, 1852, only ten months before his death. They are a veritable treasury of information for all those who are interested in Cincinnati’s medical past. The greatest achievement of Drake’s pen, the monument he erected to his own literary genius, scientific knowledge, tireless industry, indefatigable zeal 77 and wonderful originality, was his stupendous work on “The Principal Dis- eases of the Internal Valley of North America.” Like “Faust,” which was the inspiration of Goethe’s youth, the ever-present thought of his maturer years and the finished product of his ripe old age, Drake’s great work was the realization of a dream which pursued its author throughout his whole professional life. The seed from which it sprang was the little book about Cincinnati which Drake published in 1810. Twelve years later he announced his intention to write his great work, and asked the profession of the West to aid him in the gathering of material. Shortly after he undertook the first of his extensive trips of observation, which he continued year after year for almost a quarter of a century. He covered the whole Western country in these trips, studying the earth, the river, the plants, the animals, the people, the air, the sky. “From Hudson Bay to the desert lands of the Rio Grande, from the palm groves of Florida to the headwaters of the Mississippi, from the mouth of the St. Lawrence and the great lakes of the North, to the prairies of the far West and to the Sierras of the Rocky Mountains” he observed, investigated, collected and compiled. “In the cities and towns of the Middle West, in the villages and hamlets of the basin of the Mississippi, in the settlements of the colonist, in the reservations and wigwams of the Indian, around the campfires of the trappers, in the barracks of the frontier posts, in the mines of the unexplored West” he worked and studied inces- santly. There were no authorities to quote from, no reference books to con- sult. He traversed the land in every direction on horseback, on foot, by boat or railway. He endured hardships and spent time, labor and money in the preparation and accomplishment of his great work. Finally its first volume appeared in 1850, nearly nine hundred pages, a veritable encyclopedia of knowledge of the topography, geography, geology, botany, meteorology and statistical data of the Western country, including diseases, their classification, etiology, diagnosis and treatment. Two years after his death Drs. S. Hanbury Smith, of Starling Medical College, Columbus, Ohio, and Francis C. Smith, of Philadelphia, brought out the second volume which contained nearly one thousand pages. The complete title of the work is: “A Systematic Treatise, historical, etiological and practical, on the Principal Diseases of the Interior Valley of North America, as they appear in the Caucasian, African, Indian, and Esquimaux Varieties of its Population.” The first part of the work was published by Winthrop P. Smith & Co., of Cincinnati, the second part by Lippincott, Crambo & Co., Philadelphia. BOOK I.— GENERAL ETIOLOGY. Part I. — Topography and Hydrography. Chapter I. — Analysis of the Hydrographic System. — Altitude. — Configuration and Outline. Chapter II. — Hydrographic Basin of the Gulf of Mexico. — Form, Depth, Currents and Temperature. Chapter III. — Coasts of the Gulf of Mexico. — Vera Cruz. — Tampico. — Galveston. — Cuba. — Key West. — Pensacola.- — Mobile and minor bays. 78 Chapter IV. — Delta of the Mississippi. — Rise, Fall, Depth, and Temperature of the Mis- sissippi. — Materials. — Geological Age, — Vegetation. Chapter V. — Localities of the Delta. — The Balize. — New Orleans. — Bluffs of the Delta. Chapter VI. — Medical Topography of the Bottoms and Bluffs of the Mississippi. — Texas. — Yazoo. — St. Francis. — American Bottoms. Chapter VII. — Medical Topography of the Regions Beyond the Mississippi. — Basin M the Rio del Norte. — Southern Texas. — Valley of the Red River. — The Arkansas River. — The Ozark Mountains. — ^The Missouri River. Chapter VIII. — Medical Topography, East of the Mississippi and South of the Ohio. — Appalachicola Bay and River. — Alabama River. — Tuscaloosa. — Pascagoula. — Pearl River. — Big Black and Yazoo Rivers. Chapter IX. — The Ohio Basin. — Tennessee River. — The Cumberland. — Green River. — Falls of the Ohio. — The Kentucky. — The Licking. — The Ohio. — Kanawha and Monongahela. Chapter X. — Basin of the Ohio on the North. — Alleghany. — Beaver. — Muskingum. — Hock- ing. — Scioto. — Miami Basin. — City of Cincinnati. — White River. — Wabash. Chapter XL — Ohio Basin. — The Kaskaskia. — Illinois. — Rock River. Chapter XII. — Eastern or St. Lawrence Hydrographic Basin. — Basin of Lake Superior. — Lake Michigan. — Lake Huron. — The Straits. Chapter XHI. — Basin of Lake Erie. — River Rasin. — Maumee Bay. — Sandusky Basin. — Huron River. — Black River. — The Cuyahoga. — The Chagrin. — Grand River. — Lake Shore. — City of Buffalo. Chapter XIV. — Basin of Lake Ontario. — Niagara River. — Genesee River. — Oswego River. — Black River. — Coast of Lake Ontario. — Kingston. Chapter XV. — River St. Lawrence. — Ottawa. — City of Montreal. — Quebec. — Entering of the St. Lawrence. — Parallel between the Mississippi and the St. Lawrence. Chapter XVI. — The Hudson and its Basin. — The Hudson Hydrographic Basin. — Conclu- sion of Topography. Part II. — Climatic Etiology, Chapter I. — Nature, Dynamics, and Elements of Climate. Chapter II. — Temperature of the Interior Valley. — Curves of Mean Temperature. Chapter III. — Atmospheric Pressure of the Interior Valley. — Barometrical Observations. Chapter IV. — Winds of the Interior Valley. — Introductory Observations. — Tabular Views of the Wind at Our Military Posts. — Tabular Views of the Wind at Various Civil Stations. — Order, Relative Prevalence, Characteristics, and Effects of our Various Winds. Chapter V. — Aqueous Meteors. — Rain and Snow. — Clear, Cloudy, Rainy, and Snowy Days. — Humidity. Chapter VI. — Electrical Phenomena. — Distribution of Plants and Animals. — Atmospheric Electricity. — Thunder Storms. — Hurricanes. — Climatic Distribution of Plants and Animals. Part HI. — Physiological and Social Etiology. Chapter I. — Population. — Division Into Varieties. — Caucasian Variety. — Historical, Chron- ological, and Geographical Analysis. — Physiological Characteristics. — Statistical Physi- ology. Chapter H. — Modes of Living. — Diet. — Solid Food. — Liquid Diet and Table Drinks. — Water. — Alcoholic Beverages.' — Tobacco. Chapter HI. — Clothing, Lodgings, Bathing, Habitations, and Shade Trees. — Clothing. — Lodgings. — Bathing. — Habitations. — Shade Trees, Chapter IV. — Occupations, Pursuits, Exercise and Recreations. — Agricultural Labors. — Commercial Pursuits. — Mining and Smelting. — Salt Making. — Mechanical and Chem- ical Arts and Manufactures. — Exercise, Recreation and Amusement. — Conclusion of Book First. 79 BOOK IL— FEBRILE DISEASES. Part I. — Autumnal Fever. Chapter I. — Nomenclature, Varieties, and Geographical Limits of Autumnal Fever. Chapter II. — Speculation on the Cause of Autumnal Fever. Chapter III. — Mode of Action and First Effects of the Remote Cause of Autumnal Fever. Chapter IV. — Varieties and Development of Autumnal Fever. Chapter VI. — Intermittent Fever. — Simple and Inflammatory. Chapter VI. — Malignant Intermittent Fever. — General History. — Symptomatology. — Pa- thology and Complications. — Treatment in the Paroxysm. — Treatment in the Inter- mission. — Conclusion. Chapter VII . — Remittent Autumnal Fever. — Simple and Inflammatory. — Considered To- gether. — Symptoms. — T reatment. Chapter VIII. — Malignant Remittent Fever. — General Remarks. — Diagnosis and Pa- thology. — Treatment. Chapter IX. — Protracted, Relapsing and Vernal Intermittents. — Chronic and Relapsing Cases. — Vernal Intermittents. — Treatment, Hygienic and Medical. Chapter X. — Pathological Anatomy and Consequences of Autumnal Fever. — Mortality of Autumnal Fever. — Condition of the Blood in Autumnal Fever. — Pathological Anatomy of Intermittent Fever. — Pathological Anatomy of Remittent Fever. — Consequences of Autumnal Fever. Chapter XL — Consequences of Autumnal Fever. — Diseases of the Spleen: General Views. — Splenitis. — Suppuration of the Spleen. — Enlargement of the Spleen. — Diseases of the Liver. — Dropsy. — Periodical Neuralgia. Part H. — Yellow Fever. Chapter I. — Nomenclature, Geography and Local History. Chapter H. — Local History. — New Orleans. Chapter HI. — East and Southeast of the Delta of the Mississippi. Chapter IV. — Places to the Westward and Northwest of New Orleans. Chapter V. — Places up the Mississippi. Chapter VI. — Etiological Deductions. Chapter VH. — Symptoms. Chapter VHI. — Pathological Anatomy. Chapter IX. — Pathology. Chapter X. — Self-limitation. — Prevention. — T reatment. Chapter XI. — Miscellaneous Observations. Part HI. — Typhous Fevers. Chapter I. — Introduction, — General Epidemic-r-Typhous Constitution. Chapter H. — Local History of Typhous Eever. Chapter HI. — Local History, continued. Chapter IV. — Local History, continued. Chapter V. — Local History, continued. Chapter VI. — Local TIistory, continued. Chapter VH. — Continued Typhous Fever. Chapter VHI. — Irish Emigrant Fever. Chapter IX. — Etiological Generalizations. Chapter X. — Etiological Generalizations, continued. Chapter XI. — Classification of Continued Fevers. Chapter XII. — Classification of Continued Fevers. Chapter XHI. — Pathological Anatomy of Typhous Fevers. Chapter XIV. — Pathology of Typhous Fever. 80 Chapter XV. — Treatment of Typhous Fever. Chapter XVI. — Relations of Typhous Fever with Yellow, Remittent and other Febrile Diseases. — Seven-day Typhus. — Typhoid Stage. P.\RT IV. — Eruptive Fevers. Chapter I. — Small Pox. — Variola. Chapter II. — Cow Pox. — Vaccinia. — Variola Vaccinia. Chapter III. — Modified Small Pox. — Varioloid. Chapter IV. — Varicella, or Chicken Pox. Chapter V. — Measles. — Rubeola. Chapter VI. — Scarlet Fever. — Scarlatina. Chapter VII. — Rose Rash. — Roseola; also Lichen and Strophulus. Chapter VIII. — Nettle Rash. — Urticaria. Chapter IX. — Erysipelas, P.\RT V. — Phlogistic Eevers. — 'I'he Phlegmasiae. Chapter I. — Comparison with the Previous Groups. Chapter II. — Etiology of the Phlogistic Eevers. Chapter III. — Rise and Establishment of the Simple, or Common, Plegmasiae. Chapter IV. — Progress, Termination, and Anatomical Characters, Chapter V. — Indications and Means of Cure. Chapter VI. — Phlegmasiae of the Central Organs of Innervation, Brain, and Spinal Cord, Chapter VII. — Phlegmasiae of the Central Organs, continued. Chapter VIII. — Inflammation of the Nervous Centers, continued. Chapter IX. — Inflammation of the Nervous Centers, continued. Chapter X. — Inflammation of the Organs of Motion. — Rheumatism, Chapter XL — Phlegmasiae of the Respiratory Organs. — Etiology. Chapter XII. — Mucous Inflammation of the Respiratory Organs, Chapter XIII, — Laryngismus Thidulus. — Pertussus. — Asthma. — Hay Fever. Chapter XIV. — Acute and Chronic Bronchitis. Chapter XV. — Pneumonia and Pleurisy. Chapter XVI. — Typhoid and Bilious Pneumonitis. Chapter XVII. — Pleurisy, Acute and Chronic. Chapter XVIII. — Tubercular Pneumonitis, or Phthisis Pulmonalis. Chapter XIX. — Tubercular Pneumonitis, continued. Chapter XX. — Cardiac Inflammations. The reception of the work by the profession was worthy of the efifort and of the author. In 1850 the American Medical Association met in Cincinnati. Dr. Alfred Stille, of Philadelphia, chairman of the committee on medical lit- erature, reported on the latest medical publications, and devoted the greatest part of his report to an analysis of Drake’s work, referring to it as an ‘‘achieve- ment of which every doctor in America should be proud.” Drake was present, and, upon arising, was greeted with a demonstration such as had never been accorded to any one on a similar occasion. The cheers and the clapping of hands were deafening and lasted for several minutes. Again and again the dem- onstrations started anew. Finally, when the noise had subsided, Drake wanted to thank his colleagues, but his voice failed him. He seemed to be growing faint and was helped to a chair. He covered his face with his hands and 81 wept like a child. His friends crowded around him. To Dr. Stille, who wanted to comfort him, he said, when he had’ gained his self-possession : ‘T have not lived in vain, but I wish father, mother and Harriet were here !” What is the position which Daniel Drake’s great work occupies in the world’s medical literature and more particularly among the medical books written by Americans? Alexander von Humboldt pronounced it “a treasure among scientific works.” B. Silliman, of Yale, the foremost American phy- sicist of his time, called it “an enduring monument of American genius.” Samuel D. Gross, who was not given to laudatory effusions, calls Drake “the American Hippocrates whose work, like those of his immortal prototype, is indestructible and challenges at once our admiration and gratitude.” Edward D. Mansfield, Drake’s learned biographer, refers to Drake’s work as “the greatest work of pure science ever produced in America”. Charles D. Meigs, the distinguished Philadelphian, says that “it would be impossible in a mere review to do justice to the quality of this vast work.” James T. Whittaker remarked that “the immensity of Drake’s work is growing larger as the years roll by.” P. S. Conner says, “It is the work of genius — this expresses it all !” Wm. H. Taylor says that “too much praise could not possibly be bestowed on Drake’s great work.” James Gregory Mumford, of Boston, whose recent “Narrative of Medicine in America” contains a very readable account of Drake’s life and labors, refers to the sparsity of really great medical books that originated in our country and observes : “We can not make a great list, but we can make a strong one and Drake’s work is among the strongest.” Speaking of Drake’s hardships and labors in preparing this work, Mumford says : “It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of the magnitude of Drake’s labors beside which those of Hercules himself seem very modest affairs.” Last, but not least, Drake’s rugged and vigorous Anglo-Saxon English is a feature of the work not to be forgotten. Drake’s style does not possess the academic correctness of John D. Godman’s, the aesthetic quality of James T. Whittaker’s, or the scholastic finish of Roberts Bartholow’s, but Drake surpasses all these masters of style and diction in his elementary and irrepressible vigor. No American physician has ever put forth the fiery, almost explosive temperament, terse, pointed, strong and incisive English, ever-present and overtowering individuality as Daniel Drake. No physician ever gave to the West, to the profession of this Western country and particularly to the profession in Cincinnati as much of lasting quality as he. What have we, his heirs and beneficiaries, done in remem- brance and appreciation of his labors? Does the present Medical Department of the University of Cincinnati, the technical successor of the Medical Col- lege of Ohio, perpetuate the heritage of Christian philanthropy, broad pa- triotism and scientific altruism which he left to his beloved home town? Does the spirit of that great humanitarian hover over the Cincinnati Hos- pital where not even a modest tablet reminds the present generation of the 82 master who gave the institution its existence? Has the Cincinnati Academy of Medicine done anything to honor the most illustrious physician of the West, the man who was to the W'est what Benjamin Rush was to the East? Is this great American patriot, pioneer, physician and scientist, less worthy of honor than Ephraim MacDowell, whose monument in Danville, Ky., links the ambitions of the grateful present to the achievements of the heroic past? The American Institute of Homoeopathy, on June 19, 1900, in the City of W^ashington, honored the man whom homoeopaths the world over revere as a great figure in medical history and as the founder of their school, Hahnemann. They erected a magnificent monument to his memory which proclaims to the world the fact that he is not forgotten, that he is appreciated by those who follow him. The medical profession of the West is numerically by far stronger than those who gave to the City of Wash- ington the colossal statue of Hahnemann. Yet nothing has been done to remind the rising generation of doctors of that greatest of all Western physician, Daniel Drake, who, according to an entirely unbiased authority (H. W. Eelter, author of “A History of Eclecticism”) is “one of the greatest figures and most admirable characters in the medical history of our country.” The respectful, nay, even reverential, spirit that prompted the people of classical Greece to pay tribute to the great characters of the past and to surround the memory of heroic soldiers, statesmen and more particularly famous poets and philosophers with all the glamor of a mythical cult and worship, was typical of ancient culture and civilization. It is this pride in the traditions of the past and in the struggles and achievements of the great men of the times gone by, that is the rock upon which the self-conscious spirit, the self-respect, the natioMal pride of republics, kingdoms and em- pires rest. It is the soul, the life-element of patriotism. Only barbarians have no love for the ideals that are embodied in the traditions of their tribes and races. Who has not been inspired by the sight of the statue of Nathan Hale in the City Park of New York? The incessant clatter and grind of a thousand hoofs and wheels of industry and commerce that accompany a great city’s mad chase for the Almighty Dollar, can not drown the voice that speaks so eloquently out of the wan countenance of the heroic youth whose only regret was that he had but one life to give to his country. To gladly listen to the voices that faintly reverberate through the aisles of time and tell us of the heroic past, to try and understand the language of the great souls that speak to us out of musty tombs and crumbling monuments is a form of education that makes us better understand and more deeply appre- ciate our own purpose in life. It is proper and profitable for every true American to seek his ideals in the lives of such models as Washington and Franklin. Every loyal son of Ohio can turn to the noble countenance of McKinley and thus become a truer man and better citizen of the old Buclceye State. Every man who ministers to the sick bodies of his fellowmen in the valley of the Ohio River can peer through the mists of time and be inspired at the sight of Daniel Drake’s heroic figure that looms up in solemn and silent grandeur. To love and appreciate the past means to serve and secure the future. When will the physicians of the great Interior Valley of North America become conscious of their duty towards the memory of him whose immortal contributions to his profession were only equalled by his imperishable work as a Western pioneer and patriot? t 84 CHAPTER VTI. MEDICAL CINCINNATI AFTER 1800. / look to the doctors to resuscitate society. — Carl Riimelin. T he conditions of medical practice in the Western country one hun- dred years ago were in keeping with the unsettled state of society generally. Most of the physicians were empirics, although among them there were men of fine general education and great natural ability. There were no medical schools in the West. The oldest medical school in America was of comparatively recent date. In 1765 the University of Penn- sylvania, through the efforts of John Morgan and William Shippen, who had the powerful support of Benjamin Franklin, opened its medical depart- ment, the first medical school on this side of the Atlantic. Three years later King's College, afterwards called Columbia College, was organized in New York. The Harvard Medical School followed in 17(S4. Dartmouth sprang into existence at the dawn of the nineteenth century. The University of Maryland was founded in 1807, and Yale Medical School in 1810, There was no medical school in the West before 1817, when Transylvania Uni- versity, in Lexington, Ky., opened its medical department. Drake prac- ticed medicine for ten years before he attended a course of lectures, and was granted a diploma. Hardly any of the earlier physicians in this part of the country were graduates in medicine. The first attempt to regulate the practice of medicine and give those engaged in the latter a distinct legal standing in the community, was made in 1811, when the Ohio Legislature divided the State into five districts, naming three censors in each whose duties it was to issue licenses to those desiring to practice medicine. The candidates were examined by these cen- sors, who met in Cincinnati, Chillicothe, Athens, Zanesville and Steuben- ville, respectively, for each of the five districts. This act of the Legislature was repealed the following year when the “Medical Society of the State of Ohio” was created a legal body to examine candidates and issue licenses. The State was divided into seven districts (Cincinnati, Chillicothe, Athens, Zanesville, Steubenville, Warren and Dayton). Under this law the first State Convention was held in Chillicothe, at least the attempt was made to hold it. It was in mid-winter and only five delegates appeared (Canby, of Lebanon ; Parsons, of Columbus ; Drake, of Cincinnati ; Scott and Edmiston, of Chillicothe). The following year a new law was passed which substan- tially re-enacted the law of 1811, with the exception that it divided the State 85 into seven districts instead of five, leaving ont Zanesville and adding Newark, Warren and Dayton. Penalties for practicing without a license were fixed at $70, or at $5 for each offense. The acts passed in 1817, 1821 and 1824 were substantially the same as that of 1813. In 1818 the law recognized the right of graduates to obtain a license without examination. In 1824 twenty medical districts were created with a “Medical Society” for each, the persons to constitute these societies are named, the organization, rights and duties of the societies defined and all provisions made for proper regulation of medical practice. This law called for a “Convention of Delegates from the District Societies” to be the executive body for the administration, interpreta- tion and application of the medical laws of the State. The first one of these conventions was held in 1827 and presided over by John Woolley, of Cin- cinnati. This convention adopted a plan and constitution of a State Medical Society to meet in Columbus in 1829. An amusing account of the first con- vention (1827) can be found in the Transactions of the Ohio State Society (1857). The historian says: “Towards the latter part of that year, some fifteen or twenty horsemen might have been seen wending their way, through mud and mire, along the different roads that centered in the village of Co- lumbus. Their personal appearance somewhat resembled that of a company of men crawling out of a canal, where they had been excavating on a rainy day.” Sanitary legislation in Cincinnati seems to have begun in 1802 when the council of the town passed an ordinance to prevent carcasses of animals from lying in any of the streets, alleys, lanes or commons. Fines are imposed on persons who violate the ordinance by permitting nuisances. The ordinance also regulates the slaughter of animals by butchers, compelling the latter to slaughter only in a specially appointed slaughter-house. A smallpox ordi- nance pertaining to isolation of patients, vaccination, etc., was passed in 1804. Death returns by physicians were made compulsory by an ordinance passed by council in 1813. This is the beginning of the present system of keeping vital statistics. Additional smallpox regulations were adopted in 1816. An ordinance creating the office of health-officer was passed in 1821. A Board of Health, consisting of five members, was established in 1826. The office of coroner was created by General St. Clair in 1789. In 1819 Cincinnati had 5,402 white males, 4,471 white females, 215 colored males, 195 colored females, altogether 10,283 inhabitants. This was the year of publication of the first City Directory and the birth-year of the Med- ical College of Ohio. The physicians who were practicing in Cincinnati at that time were Wm. Barnes who had an office at 157 Main Street and lived at 7 W. Fourth Street; Oliver P. Baldwin, 35 W. Front Street; Chas. N. Barbour, 230 Main Street; John Cranmer, 39 Main Street; Daniel Drake, 91 Main Street (h. Third and Ludlow) ; Daniel Dyer, Walnut, between Fourth and Fifth Streets; Jonathan Easton, Fifth, between Race and Elm; Isaac Hough, 51 Main (house 55 M.) ; Vincent C. Marshall, 133 Main; Eben. H. 86 Pierson, 87 Sycamore (h. 85 Second); Samuel Ramsey, 14 W. Front; Abel Slayback, 194 Main, (h. Fifth, between Main and Sycamore) ; John Sellman, 26 E. Front; John Wooler, 170 Main; Coleman Rogers, Fourth and Walnut; Thos. Morehead, 24 E. Front; John A. Hallam, 6 Lower Market; Josiah Whitman, Second Street; Edw. Y. Kemper, Eifth and Race; John Douglass, 228 Main; Ithiel Smead, Sixth and Smith; Elijah Slack, Eourth, between Elm and Plum, is given as a physician although he was a preacher and a chemist. Truman Bishop, a Methodist minister, came here in 1818 and prac- ticed medicine until 1829 when he died. Edward Y. Kemper was one of Doctor Goforth’s pupils. He was born in Virginia in 1783 and was the son of Rev. James Kemper, who is referred to elsewhere. Doctor Kemper died in Cincinnati in 1863, probably the last survivor of that little band of medical students who gathered in Cincinnati prior to the establishment of the Medical College of Ohio. Eor a short time John Moorhead and John Sellman shared offices. The first Mayor of the City of Cincinnati was Isaac G. Burnet, who had his office at 49 Water Street. He was the son of Dr. William Burnet, one of the earliest physicians in Cincinnati. Jeremiah Tibbets, barber, sur- geon and hair-dresser, popularly known as the “Emperor of the West,” had his shop on Second Street, between Sycamore Street and Broadway. The physicians named, twenty-two in number, ministered to the physical ills of nearly ten thousand people. In 1830 the population of Cincinnati was about 25,000, with fifty-eight physicians. A few of the doctors named had the desirable clientele of the city, the few wealthy people like the Ludlows, Ganos and others who did not settle in this Western country empty-handed, but came, mostly from the East, with a comfortable allowance of the world’s goods. Of these, however, there were not many. The majority of the people were poor and their condition was doubly uncertain on account of the hard times that prevailed for nearly four decades after the first settlement of the Miami lands. The stringency of the economic conditions was accentuated by a number of financial panics that swept disastrously over the land and wrecked banks and business houses, notably in 1820 when the failure of the Miami Banking & Export Co. caused a riot and bloodshed. That the practice of medicine under such conditions in- volved much labor and self-sacrifice can be understood. There was much country practice on both sides of the river. “The doctor had to be his own pharmacist. He made his own pills and tinctures, compounded all his medi- cines, and generally carried all he required, as, with saddle-bags across his horse, he wended his way from house to house, administering to the sick and ailing, always welcome and often regarded as an angel of mercy, although his homely garb and rough appearance looked anything but angelic. His life was one of peril, toil and privation. The country was new and thinly settled, and his rides were long and solitary; his patients were scattered over a wide expanse of territory ; his travel was mostly performed on horse- back, and its extent and duration was measured by the endurance of him- 87 self and his horse. He struggled through almost unfathomable mud and swamps and swollen streams. He was often compelled to make long detours to cross or avoid the treacherous slough. His rest was often taken in the saddle, sometimes in the cabin of the lonely settler. From necessity he was self-reliant and courageous. Every emergency, however grave, he was gen- erally compelled to meet alone and unaided, as it was seldom assistance could be procured without too great an expenditure of time and money. His fees were small and his services were often paid for in promises, seldom in money, of which there was but little. The products of the country, called by the people “truck,’' was the general and most reliable circulating medium, and with this the doctor was usually paid. But there is a bright side to this pic- ture. The kindly life of a new country, and the dependence of its inhabitants upon each other, gave the doctor a strong hold upon the affection and grati- tude of those among whoni he lived and labored. They loved him when living, and mourned for him when dead.” This graphic description was given by a man who lived among these early Cincinnati doctors. Dr. Robert Boal, a student in the Medical College of Ohio in 1827. He also refers to the few fashionable doctors who did their work in powdered wig, cocked hat and knee breeches, and were able to feather their nest in the service of the well-to-do. The average doctor of those days was satisfied with 25 to 50 cents for a visit. Half of this and sometimes the whole of it went for provender for his horse or produce for his family. If he had to sit up the whole night, he got $1.00. In 1819 there were seven stores in Cincinnati where medicines could be purchased. Caleb Bates, at No. 19 Lower Market, was considered the leading- apothecary. Dr. John Woolley had bought out Drake & Co., on Lower Main Street and was considered a progressive man in his line. His soda fountain, purchased in Philadelphia in 1815 by Daniel Drake, was a great attraction. Oliver Fairchild had a drug store at 19 Main Street. Caleb Bates remained in business until 1849 when he was succeeded by James Burdsal. In 1829 the leading druggists in addition to those named, were J. B. Baird, Sycamore, between Fifth and Sixth; Henry Clark, No. G Lower Market; Goodwin, Ashton & Cleaveland (O. G. Goodwin, Daniel A. Ashton and S. B. C. Cleave- land), Upper Market Space; William Greene, 50 Lower Market; James H. Latham, 213 Main Street; William Woolley, Upper Market Space; Charles T. Minche, 16 Lower Market; John F. Stall & Co., Main, between Third and Fourth, which was four doors below the L^nited States Bank, and who an- nounced “Medicine chests complete — physicians’ prescriptions and orders from the country carefully attended to,” and last, but certainly not least, William S. Merrell, Sixth and Western Row, who called his the “Western Market Drug Store,” and announced “Prescriptions prepared with greatest fidelity and accuracy.” Pulaski Smith who graduated at the Medical College of Ohio, kept a drug store in the early thirties on Main Street, near Ninth. He sold out to 88 Samuel Biirdsal, who was a druggist in this town for more than fifty years. This old drug store with its snake jars and dingy interior was an historic place. When William H. Harrison, long before he thought of becoming President, was clerk of the courts, he was in the habit of lounging around this quaint old drug shop, talking politics to some of the other men who would congregate there, and occasionally ask Old Sammy, as Burdsal was generally called, for a little soda “with a stick in it”. This expression was en vogue then as it is now. The old shop passed out of existence in 1895. Soda water was probably more in demand before than since the war. In the fifties there was a drug store at the northwest corner of Fourth and Vine Streets that had the greatest soda water business in the West. Later W. B. Chapman, elected president of the American Pharmaceutical Association in 1854, made money and a reputation at the southwest corner of Sixth and Vine Streets. He had a soda fountain that was considered one of the attrac- tions in Cincinnati. It is not generally known that nectar syrup was orig- inated in this city. Its inventor was C. August Smith, who had a drug store at Fourth and Race Streets in the sixties. During the cholera year, 1849, many druggists reaped a harvest making and selling Burgundy Pitch Plasters which people would wear on the stomach to ward off the cholera. After 1840 the drug business was almost entirely in the hands of Germans. G. A. Hiller was probably the first German pharmacist here. He held forth on Lower Market. William Karrmann, famed as a connoisseur and col- lector of paintings and violins, was located at Fifth and Smith Streets as early as 1845. Adolph Fennel, who came here in 1851, and was located at the southwest corner of Adne and Eighth Streets for many years, was an able exponent of scientific pharmacy. Edward S. Wayne, who at different times held chairs in the Medical College of Ohio, the Cincinnati College of Medicine and Surgery and the Cincinnati College of Pharmacy, was with Suire and Eckstein in their great drug establishment at the northwest corner of Fourth and Vine Streets. His salary was $7,000 a year, considered at that time the largest paid to any chemist in this country. Fennel and Wayne were prominent among the men who started the Cincinnati College of Pharmacy, the third of its kind in the United States. In 1848 the American Phar- maceutical Association was founded. Through this Association a charter was obtained in 1850 for the Cincinnati College of Pharmacy. The first home of the school was in Gordon's Hall at the southwest corner of Eighth Street and Western Row. W. J. M. Gordon, a prominent pharmacist in those days, had a drug store downstairs. Above the store was a large room, known as Gordon’s Hall. The College of Pharmacy had its humble begin- ning in this hall. Gordon himself was an enthusiastic supporter of the school, and should be remembered as one of the pioneers of scientific pharmacy in the West. The school vegetated for a number of years in Gordon’s Hall and subsequently in a room in the Cincinnati College, and was finally aban- doned. After the civil war a reorganization of the school was decided upon. 89 The plan did not go into operation until 1871 when the school was established at the southwest corner of Walnut Street and Gano Alley, whence it moved into a house at the southwest corner of Fifth and John Streets. The faculty consisted of E. S. Wayne (materia medica and pharmacy), J. F. Judge E. S. Wayne Adoeph Fennee (chemistry), and F. H. Renz (botany). The following year Wm. B. Chap- man was added to the faculty. The first course was attended by fifty-one students. Later on the institution moved into one of the historic buildings of the city, the old Catharine Street Baptist Church. Catharine Street was at one time the name of Court Street. In the early days the building fronted the Baptist Cemetery which was to the east of the old Methodist graveyard. Since 1871 the Cincinnati College of Pharmacy has been in continuous opera- tion. The early founders of the college were among the ablest exponents of chemistry, botany and scientific pharmacy in the country. Adolph Fennel J. F. Judge Wm. B. Chapman 90 was born in Cassel, Germany, in 1824. He attended the Polytechnic Institute in his native town and was employed as a chemist and pharmacist in Stutt- gart and in Switzerland. He emigrated to the United States in 1850, located in Cincinnati, and gained a vast reputation as an analytical chemist. He died in 1884. An equally distinguished man was E. S. Wayne, a native of Phila- delphia, to whose zeal and enthusiasm the American Pharmaceutical Asso- ciation owes its existence. Wayne was a man of solid scientific attainments, an excellent teacher and imimensely popular. He was the Beau Brummel of the profession, always faultlessly attired and with manners to match. He was John A. Warder’s assistant (1856) in the Medical College of Ohio. From 1858 to 1860 he was professor of chemistry in the Cincinnati College of Medicine and Surgery. He reoccupied the same chair in the last-named school in 1884. His health failing he returned to the place of his birth, Philadelphia, at the end of the session. He died there in 1885, sixty-seven years of age. Wm. B. Chapman, the third in the trinity of great pharmacists, was born in Pennypack Hall, near Philadelphia, in 1813, came to Cincinnati in 1835, opened a drug store in conjunction with John Eberle’s son, graduated from the Medical College of Ohio in 1839, but continued in the drug busi- ness. For many years he had a store at the southwest corner of Sixth and Vine Streets. In 1854 he was elected president of the American Pharma- ceutical Association. He was the inventor of Chapman’s suppository mould. He died in 1874. J. F. Judge, another distinguished chemist who became associated with the College of Pharmacy, is referred to in connection with the Miami Medical College. Another institution whose history has been closely related to the history of the medical profession, is the Ohio College of Dental Surgery, founded by an act of the Legislature January 24, 1845. It was the second school of its kind in the world, its predecessor being the dental school in Baltimore, founded a few years previously by H. Willis Baxley, subsequently a pro- fessor in the Medical College of Ohio. The Ohio College of Dental Surgery was organized by physicians. The first course of lectures began in Novem- ber, 1845. The first faculty consisted of Jesse W. Cook, professor of dental anatomy and physiology; M. Rogers, professor of dental pathology and therapeutics; James Taylor, professor of practical dentistry and pharmacy, and Jesse P. Judkins, demonstrator of anatomy. In February, 1846, a class of four graduated. Every graduate received a diploma and copy of the Holy Bible. Whether the graduates were expected to practice dental art by au- thority of the former or the latter is not stated. During the second session Elijah Slack delivered lectures on chemistry. During the long career of the Ohio College of Dental Surgery, many eminent medical men have been con- nected with the institution. Anatomy has been taught by John T. Shotwell, Thomas Wood, C. B. Chapman, Charles Kearns and Wm. Clendenin, pa- thology by George Mendenhall, Edward Rives, F. Brunning and others. Jesse W. Cook resigned in 1847, and was followed by J. F. Potter, a surgeon of 91 repute, who subsequently was connected with St. Luke’s Hospital. His dis- pute over an unimportant point in ethics with R. D. Mussey who was a stickler on correct form, attracted much attention at the time. Potter died in 1868. His wife was Miss Martha Longworth. The school started in an old building on College Street, which was ‘torn