Jesse Green’s memoir, written when he was an elderly man, give us glimpses of life in Dayton in the early days of its settlement. Accidents were always a danger, and not all had as good an outcome at this one:

“Our first physician in Dayton, was a German, whose name I have forgotten, next was Allen H. Howland, Harmon Hurlbut and Peter Schemerhorn, Dr. Howland was also an excellent surgeon whom father [John Green] employed, when he had his arm smashed from the hand to above his elbow, in cutting the ice from a water wheel, other Physicians wanted to amputate his arm, above the elbow but father would not consent to this, and sent for Dr. Howland, notwithstanding they had just passed through a very bitter campaign, in which Wm. Stadden was the regularly nominated candidate for the state Senate and Dr. Howland ran against him as an independent candidate and was defeated. When he called to see father and examined his wound, father made this proposition to him, “if he would save his life and his arm, he would give him five hundred dollars,” and the Dr. said he could do it, and took the case and did do it, and got his five hundred dollars.”¹

The second physician in active practice in Ottawa is believed to have been Dr. Allen H. Howland, who came here in 1833 from Saratoga, New York. He had received a good medical education, and for nearly a third of a century enjoyed a large practice. He was something of a politician, and had many enemies as well as numerous friends. He was an able man, and enjoyed the confidence of his fellow citizens. He died in 1866.²

1. Unpublished memoir of Jesse Green, a transcription of which is in the possession of Candace Wilmot, Urbana, IL
2. Ottawa: Old and New (Ottawa, Illinois: The Republican-Times,1912-1914), 192

A SAD ACCIDENT. – Last Thursday evening, at about 12 o’clock, Mr. James Timmons, a brick mason who lives at Dayton, met with a fearful accident by which he was deprived of his right arm. He was attempting to get upon a freight train at Grand Ridge to go home, when, owing to the darkness and the difficulty of climbing on the caboose of the train, he fell with one arm under the wheels. The arm was of course completely crushed. He got up and ran a short distance in a state of complete bewilderment, caused by his intense agony, and then fell. Jay Doolittle, being near, picked him up and brought him to Ottawa. Dr. Campfield successfully amputated the mangled arm, the poor sufferer bearing the operation bravely. He was eased as well as could be done with opiates, and left under the care of Jay Doolittle and John Cliff at the Ottawa house, where he now lies. He is a poor man with a large family, and presents rather a pitiable case.¹

1. The [Ottawa, Illinois] Free Trader, 7 Aug 1875, p5, col 3

The following report, from the Ottawa newspaper, gives details of the courage required to confront the horrors of medical care without anesthesia, in early Illinois.

Surgical Operation

           Messrs. Editors. – Permit me to lay before the readers of your paper a detailed account of an operation I yesterday saw performed upon the breast of a female living at Dayton, who, for her courage and fortitude in sustaining it, has scarcely a parallel on the records of Chirurgery. Mrs. Q____, aged about 30, perceived a tumour eighteen months’ since in the left breast, which in consequence of its small size and not being painful, was little regarded until three months since, when it began rapidly to enlarge, ulcerating and becoming very painful. Accordingly she was apprised of the truth, that there was no hope of a cure in her case, short of a complete extirpation of the tumour, to which operation she expressed her assent; and with an unflinching resolution she seemed to call forth all the energies of her body and mind, and bared her bosom to the formidable strokes of the Scalpel. The operation was performed by Doct. Hurlbut, according to the approved method laid down by Sir Astley Cooper, with a clear perception of the nature and extent of the malignant mass, being a Medullary Sarcoma, of which he was careful not to leave the least particle from which it might again form. The tumour, which weighed five pounds, was removed in about 20 minutes, although it was rendered very intricate by many adhesions. Dr. H. shurely merits the approbation of the profession, for the expert manner in which he removed the tumour; and Drs. Hatch, Sanger, and myself, who by request lent our assistance, can vouch for the feeling and tender manner the operation was conducted. Nothing, Messrs. Editors, could be more touching to our feelings than to see this poor dependent creature alive to every trivial roughness while treading the prosperous path of life, suddenly raising in mental and bodily force, to abide with unshrinking firmness this most formidable operation, not a groan passed her lips, nor was there the least distortion, or rigidity of the muscles.

1. The Ottawa [Illinois] Free Trader, February 25, 1842, p. 2, col. 4

The following is an excerpt from a memoir written by Jesse Green, recounting tales of life in early Dayton and promoting a truly terrifying prescription for cholera:

“The next day after reaching home, I was taken down with the scarlet fever, which we supposed was contracted on a trip to St. Louis a short time previous.  This came very near to ending my earthly career, being the first and only time I ever fainted.  We had a German doctor who bled me with a high fever on.  I keeled over and was unconscious for quite a spell.  This was my first severe attack of sickness, but afterwards I had five others equally as severe, scarlet fever, lung-fever or pneumonia, inflamation of the bowels, cholera on route to California in 1849, and a fall on my head and shoulders, that came near to proving fatal.  I was saved in my attack of cholera by a prescription found in a medicine chest we bought in St. Louis put up by Dr. Westbrook.  It proved successful in every case where I knew it to be used.

“I will herewith give the formula from Dr. Westbrook:

Camphor                     6 grains
Capsicum                    6 grains            One dose in severe cases,
Blue-Mass                   6 grains            to be repeated often if
Pow’d Opium              3 grains            necessary.  1/2 dose
Prepared Chalk         20 grains            sufficient in mild cases.

“Some doctors claim that this is too large a dose, but I took three or four full doses myself.  It should be repeated every ten or fifteen minutes, but in mild cases of cholera morbus I found that a half dose was sufficient, and soon effected a cure.”

June of 1880 had an outbreak of disease, injury and death in Dayton, as the following newspaper reports show.

DIPTHERIA AT DAYTON IS ABATING

But one new case – that of Mabel, a girl of 7 years, youngest child of Jesse Green – is reported, and with her the disease is not violent. The others, who were very low with it last week, are recovering.

Fred Green, the lad who was so frightfully mangled in the paper mill last week, is bearing up bravely. His recovery would seem miraculous, considering the tortures he has suffered. In addition to the tearing off of the right hand, he lost the first and second fingers of the left hand, his right leg was broken below the knee, the left leg knee joint dislocated and the knuckle bone thereof broken and the right arm broken above the elbow. He successfully bore this awful shock and the subsequent one of the amputation of the fingers and right arm above the wrist, and apparently is on the mend, though many dangers lie in wait before he can recover.¹

DIED

At Dayton, May 20^th [sic: 26], 1880, of diphtheria, ALLIE, son of Jesse and H. R. Green.

At the same place on the same day and of the same disease, EDWARD, son of George and Charlotte McKinson [sic: Makinson].²

1. The Ottawa [Illinois] Republican, June 3, 1880, p. 1, col. 3
2. p.8, col. 5

An example of quick thinking:

A few days ago one of J. Baker’s (Dayton township) most valuable cows was taken violently sick after eating white clover. Seeing that death was inevitable unless immediate relief was given, Mr. B. made an incision, with a knife, 7 ½ inches below the backbone and 7 inches from the hip. Result, the cow is now well.¹

One of the great dangers to cattle pastured in a field with white clover was that of pasture bloat. Bloat, the buildup of gas in the stomach, is part of the normal process of digestion and is usually gotten rid of by belching. Eating the white clover produces foam which blocks the release of the gas. Death can come on in as little as fifteen minutes, so Mr. Baker’s quick act was necessary to save his cow’s life.

1. The Ottawa Republican, June 22, 1883, p. 8, col. 4

The early settlers of Dayton were subject to the fever and ague which prevailed to a large extent for a number of years. It was expected that every newcomer would necessarily have a siege of it to acclimate him. Jesse Green tells of how he became acclimated.

I will relate a little of my own experience in this line. It seemed to require more of the shaking up process to acclimate me than most others. I had it regularly every fall up to 1843 when I became so tired and disgusted with it that I concluded to try the remedy that my father experienced when moving to this country, and which proved successful in his case. I began to think that if cold water alone was a specific for that annoying complaint, we had plenty of it very convenient in a wool scouring box about six feet long, two and a half feet wide and three feet deep in the woolen factory. I had made up my mind to jump into this box of water a little before my chill came on, but being busy neglected it until I was shivering like an aspen leaf. I jumped in with my chill and with my clothes on, not caring very much whether it killed or cured. It came very near the former, as by the time I walked up home with wet clothing, I was shaking so badly that my wife thought I would shake down the old brick hotel where we were living at that time. I had a slight chill the next day, but have not had an attack of fever and ague since.