Memorial sketches of Doctor Moses Gunn

Front matter

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Chapter IV

Doctor Gunn's Personal Reminiscences, Written for "The Chronicle" in 1886 23

vii vm CONTENTS.

CHAPTEE V.

PAGE.

Arrival at Ann Arbor — "Satan," His First Horse; "Bishop," Satan's Successor — The Doctor's Devotions 36

CHAPTEE VI.

A Night Call— Winter of 1849-1850 in New York, Philadelphia and Boston — Letters 40

CHAPTEE VII.

The First House — Domestic Economy — Anecdotes — Eemoval to Detroit 61

CHAPTEE VIII.

"Chestnut Place" — Enters the Army — Letters from Camp — Experiences in Wind and Eain — Hard Day's Work — Runaway Attempt to Explore Enemy's Country — Broadhead's Cavalry — Camp Richardson Deserted 68

CHAPTEE IX.

Marching Orders Countermanded — October Roses — Alexandria — Camp Quarters at Fort Lyon — The Lewis Mansion — Mount Vernon . . 89

CONTENTS. IX

CHAPTEE X.

PAGE.

Second Visit to Mount Yernon — Tribulations with Fire-Places — Reconnaissance — A Ducking — Pohick Church — A Camp Union Menu — Leave of Absence 101

CHAPTER XI.

Return to the Army — Takes his Son into the Field — Quarters in an Old Confederate Camp — Before Yorktown— McClellan's " Delay" 116

CHAPTER XII.

Anxieties and Cares — Camp Breakfast; Charlie's Fritters — Questions Answered — Scenes During and After the Battle of Williamsburg — Glyndon Missing 126

CHAPTER XIII.

A Boy Surgeon — A "Trivial Incident" and its Result — "Writing in Camp no Fool of a Trick" — Dixie^ — N earing Richmond Apace — Ten Miles from Richmond— McClellan's Plan 142

CHAPTER XIV.

The Surgeon's Field of Glory 157

X CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XV.

PAGE.

Never a Day Too Late — Halleck and McClellan — Camp Affliction — Wretched Medical Management 159

CHAPTER XVI.

Doctor Gunn's Arrival in Washington — Home Again — Horse and Hound 169

CHAPTER XVII.

Death of his Son Glyndon 174

CHAPTER XVIII.

Removal to Chicago — Welcoming Address at Inauguration of New College Building 178

CHAPTER XIX.

Effects of the Chicago Fire — List of Doctor Gunn's Writings — Professor J. Adams Allen's Biography of Doctor Gunn 200

CHAPTER XX.

Dangerous Illness — Crosses the Ocean with a tarty of Doctors — Letter from Steamer Gallia — Queenstown — Cork — Shandon Bells — '- Red Letter Day at Killarney — Giant's Causeway — The Highlands of Scotland — London 212

CONTENTS. XI

CHAPTER XXI.

PAGE.

Doctor Gunn's Philosophy — Amsterdam — The Rhine — Heidelberg — Swiss Letters — Bern and the Bears — Chamouny — Paris — London — Home 237

CHAPTER XXII.

OUa Podrida — Editorial Controversies — Dread of Hyper-Medication 261

CHAPTER XXIII.

OUa Podrida, Continued — Peddlers — Rough Emeralds — Tenderness to Children 274

CHAPTER XXIV.

OUa Podrida, Continued — Punctuality — An Animated Hitching-Post — His Devotion to Astronomy 279

CHAPTER XXV.

Our Tour Abroad — The Organ at Bern — Alone in the Alps— The Rhone Glacier 291

CHAPTER XXVI.

Berlin — Paris — Historical Associations versus Clothes — Baroness Burdett - Coutts ' "At Home" 308

XU CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXVII.

PAGE.

Homeward Bound — The Doctor again in Harness —

Shopping Horrors from his Little Diary 310

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Interest in his Clinics — A Doctor's Anxieties — Doctor Gunn from a Student's Standpoint — His Strong Personality 315

CHAPTER XXIX.

A Doctor's Best Road to Success — Philosophy of Dislocations 326

CHAPTER XXX.

Visit to California — The Beginning of the End — St. Clair Springs — Doctor Gunn's Last Illness — Short Convalescence 331

CHAPTER XXXI.

"June," the Doctor's Saddle-Horse — The .Light Goes Out 337

CHAPTER XXXII.

Letters and Tributes: Prof essor Corydon L. Ford — Rev. George F. Nelson — Dr. Claudius H. Mastin — Mrs. Kate H. Lyman — Dr. Roswell Park— Dr. Henry M. Lyman 341

CONTENTS. Xlll

CHAPTEE XXXIII.

PAGE.

Extracts from Dr. Hyde's Address — Professor Parkes' Eulogy 356

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Tribute from Eeverend Dr. Clinton Locke 368

A Few Last Words 378

TLLUSTEATIOISrS.

Portrait of Moses Gunn Fronfispiece.

Bonnet Crest xv

INTEODUCTIOK

There is no better way in which to introduce these sketches than by some quotations from Professor James Nevins Hyde's Eeport on Necrology, so graphically written, and published in the Transactions of the Illinois' State Medical Society for 1888.

"Professor Gunn's reputation as one of the leading surgeons of the country was, however, largely attained after the establishment of his connection with Rush Medical College, Chicago, Illinois. . . . Here he remained actively

engaged in his practice as a surgeon, and in his duties as a teacher of medicine, up to the time of his death, which occurred, after an illness of several weeks, on the

fourth of November, 1887

Professor Gunn was granted the degree of Doctor of Laws, by the University of Chicago, in the year 1877.

"At the date of his death, he was a member of the American Surgical Association, an original member of the American Association of Genito-Urinary Surgeons, and in each capacity a member of the Congress of

XVlll INTRODUCTION.

American Physicians and Surgeons, a member of the Illinois State Medical Society, of the American Medical Association, and of the Chicago Medical Society.

"Besides the work required in his college professorship he served as a surgeon on the active and consulting staff of a number of the public charities of this city, including the Cook County Hospital, St. Joseph's Hospital, St. Luke's Hospital, and more particularly the Presbyterian Hospital, where in later years some of his most brilliant surgical operations were performed.

"Like most of the truly great surgeons of the civilized world. Professor Gunn won his exalted place in the ranks of his profession by his success, first, as a judicious, yet brilliant, always neat, and wonderfully successful operator; second, by his fame as an oral teacher of his art. He was indeed a scholarly and accurate writer, and had composed a systematic treatise on Surgery which was destroyed in the Great Chicago Fire.

"But his fame, like that of Velpeau, Nelaton, Hunter, Parker and Mott, will always rest rather on what he did with his knife than with his pen. All of his accomplishments, and they were not a few, were subordinated to his surgical skill, on which his reputation was firmly based. He was, for a physician, an

INTRODUCTION. XIX

unusually accurate accountant, a good churchman, an excellent horseman, a lover of the best general literature, a skillful architect, an amateur astronomer, and a man of refined tastes in all matters pertaining to art. But upon none of these subjects did he set his heart to any extent comparable with the untiring zeal and zest displayed in the discharge of his professional duties.

"With the enormous demands upon his time, he never, when in health, was known to fail to enter his lecture room at the stroke of the bell, or to be punctual at the appointed hour for a consultation. The clinical work he did in public was the chief delight of his life. There he was truly royal in word and act. His superb figure and commanding presence in the amphitheatre are the imperishable souvenirs of thousands of young medical men, who have learned from his life their first lesson in practical surgery, and have followed with their eyes the wonderful play of the instruments in his hand, guided by an anatomical knowledge that few, as fully as he, possessed.

"Professor Gunn came thus to be known to the world at large, as one of the most eminent surgeons of his day — a man of remarkable presence, of high moral character, and of the best social position. But to those who were admitted to share the intimacy of

XX INTRODUCTION.

his friendship, he exhibited qualities which others often V scarcely suspected. He was in all~these nonprofessional relations, found to be singularly modest, gentle as a woman, light-hearted as a boy, faithful in his friendships, fixed in an honest hatred of all shams and pretenders, and exhibiting in every judgment of his mind a strong common sense that illumined every dark corner into which he looked.

"Professor Moses Gunn was one of those men who would have been great in any sphere of life. He was, viewed from every side, one of the greatest of the great men whose names the medical profession will always treasure with gratitude and respect. His memory is enshrined to-day in that pantheon of honor, where the most learned of jurists, the ablest ecclesiastics, the most successful military heroes, and the immortal poets and artists of America are numbered with its famous physicians and surgeons."

OF

Doctor Moses Gunn.

CHAPTER FIEST.

n^HESE desultory memoirs were begun in those first ^ days of enthusiasm, when as the pages grew under my hand, I found they were shaping themselves into something like a domestic romance. And though this tendency may still in a measure cling to them, I have as far as possible divested them of their original character. Knowing that husks only, with a few approved kernels can be used, and realizing that there is nothing heroic to relate, according to the world's idea of heroism (physicians' battles with disease are seldom recounted), and that my husband's colleagues and friends have kindly chronicled his professional accomplishments and many of his manly qualities, I yet desire to add a few incidents in his life. If in delineating these my personality has been intruded

^ MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

where it might have been avoided, I hope for a lenient judgment.

Friday, November 4th, 1887, dates the close of a useful life; the life of a man whose devotion to his family and to his profession, services to the world, aid to suffering humanity, and earnest counsel to those whom his enthusiasm aroused to nobler effort, must make his removal keenly felt by all.

To me his loss is irreparable. All I have left is the rich legacy of his love, my choicest heritage; in that I live, and if from the garnered recollections of the past, I can frame a tribute to my husband, it is the only task that can bring relief or make less insupportable each day of my life. I think of him in every sleepless hour ; and in my waking, endless dreams — I dream of him.

If, among the thousands with whom he was connected, there are any who find interest in these pages, it will repay my days of labor and my nights of tears. The labor has been no hardship, only an unremitting struggle lest I should too frequently reveal the undercurrent of deeper feeling, or portray too often the reverse of the picture, showing the trivialities in our lives.

Moses Gunn was a man who made the world better for having lived in it. Not that he was more charitable

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. o

or more amiable than his peers. On the contrary, he had a high-spirited nature, impatient sometimes; but underlying this, he had great geniality, the highest sense of honor, the keenest sensibilities, and the liveliest sympathies.

He was born in East Bloomfield, New York, xipril 20tli, 1822 — the youngest of four children. His father, Linus Gunn, was of Scotch descent; tall and powerfully built, he was the embodiment of vigor. Many stories are told of his prowess and endurance; and the ancient tradition of the universal hospitality of the Scots seems to have been transmitted to him." His liberality, his honesty of purpose, and his Christianity, which consisted not alone of being a zealous member and supporter of the Church, bore fruit in acts of benevolence that made him respected and beloved.

His wife, Esther Bronson, was a comely, clever, thrifty woman, who served as a balance-wheel to keep in bounds her husband's sometimes ill-advised generosity. She was kind and affectionate, a loving wife and loving mother; to her he was indebted for the many comforts ^of his home and for much of his success.

Their pioneer days were over, their early home exchanged for one in East Bloomfield. Here they had settled, and though not exempt from the necessities of economy, were, in farmer phrase, "fore-handed," or well-to-do.

Bloomfield suggests its counterpart in the large cultivated farms, the rich fruitful orchards, broad meadows and fields of feathery, waving grain, the comfortable farm-houses — all indicating prosperity.

In the distance were the blue Bristol Hills; those nearer were covered, in summer, with velvet verdure, in winter with glistening drifts of snow. The grand old elms that cast their cool and grateful shadows across the highway, the school-house, and the mill with its murmuring, unceasing accompaniment of dam and stream, completed the summer scene of rural loveliness.

Their house on the main stage-route from Rochester to Oanandaigua, was known for miles as a convenient resting-place; even stragglers along the road soon learned where to ask for food and rest, until the demand became so great, that a wayfarer's bed was suggested and finally located in a remote corner of the house and ever after called "The Beggar's Bed."

Not alone to these mere tramps did their hospitality extend. It was a delightful place for visiting. Clergymen were welcomed and here made a pleasant sojourn, friends were cordially received and entertained, and poor relations here found a haven for their woes.

MEMORIAL SKETCHES. O

Thanksgiving was the day for family reunion; from the aged grandmother, almost ninety, to the j^rattling child, all were often seated round the same board, where delicious viands were served to tempt their appetites.

On one of these occasions a little fellow of four or five, a frequent and favored guest, was overlooked when some delicacy was ^^ handed roundy Keproachfully turning to his aunt, he said, "Whatever that was, you did not pass it to me." Instantly it was placed before him. But with quaint humor, he said, "O! never mind, I do not wani it! only I like to have folks 'pass me fhincjs when I'm around."

The following incident, though trivial in itself, illustrates one phase of my husband's boyish character: His sister (fourteen years older than himself) he almost idolized, and his youthful fancy endowed her with marvelous beauty. When any allusion was made to her approaching marriage, though she was to live only across the way, his grief was so intense that he would wander off alone, lest he should hear their discussion, and would ponder over, by himself, what appeared to him the direst of calamities.

AVhen the eventful, but to him distasteful, day arrived, the wedding breakfast over (it was not called a breakfast then), and the guests departed, the bridal pair began preparations for their short trip. With b MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

jealous eyes he watched them reach their dwelling, then his plan was made.

Early the next morning he gathered together his few belongings. Some of these possessions he crammed into a small hair trunk that he had made for himself; with this upon his shoulder, two hats upon his head, and an extra pair of shoes dangling by his side, he marched across the road, and announced to his astonished sister that "he had come to live ivith herP''

His comical appearance and still more comical "announcement" was so convulsing, that it almost prevented her, at first, from saying — "That will be very nice. I have a little room upstairs that will exactly suit you." The families winked at this droll proceeding and allowed him to remain. One day, however, hearing his mother's voice, he thrust his head inside the door, and called out — "Hello! mother, is that you?"

"Yes, my son; and how do you think I feel to be left alone? Is it not bad enough to lose my only daughter without having my boy go off and leave me too?"

The pathos of her words and voice brought him to her side ; still with hesitation and some slight patronage, he said, "It is pretty bad, and I will go home with you to live; but, mother — I want it distincUy under - stood, that I shall come here once a day to eai!^^

This was too much for their equanimity, but the compromise was made and the boyish threat carried out almost literally for years.

His brothers delighted in exciting his childish ire, sometimes to test his youthful logic. He was tinkering at some vehicle (he manufactured all his own), when one of his brothers came along and carelessly asked, "Why don't you hitch up old Buff and make him pull?"

"You knoAv the reason, Lou, as well as I do; he is ioo old:'

The superannuated subject of their debate was dozing in the sun. Making a stride towards the unconscious animal, Lou called out, " I am going to kill this dog! for he is old, and useless, and takes up too much room."

Listantly the boy was on his feet. With flashing eyes and quivering voice he cried, " If you are going to kill everything that's old, you had better go in and kill your grandmother!''

His father seldom chastised his sons, but Avhen he did, invariably prayed with them afterwards. The doctor always said it was hard to tell which he dreaded most, "the thrashing or the prayer."

» MEMORIAL SKETCHES.

He once said of himself that his youth was remarkable for nothing but a love of fun and mechanics.

His sister mentions an act of their father's discipline: — "My brother, when a lad of ten or twelve, was in the habit of interchanging visits with his cousins. 'The Gunn boys.' They all anticipated the greatest pleasure in these visits. One evening when the boys were going home, Moses gained permission to walk part of the way back with them, the distance not being specified. When sufficient time had elapsed, and he did not return, my mother was fearful lest something had befallen her boy. You know he was her Benjamin.

"At last her anxiety became so great, that my father decided to o^o in search of him. When he arrived at his brother's, he found the 'young rascal,' as he called him, in bed with his cousins! He said nothing, but returned. In the morning, when the small culprit appeared, he was told that for this misdemeanor he could not go to his uncle's for one year! At times this seemed a greater punishment than he could bear."

Fifteen years after this memorable little episode, the doctor and his Avife were taking tea with these cousins and their sisters, when she fully realized what a cruel deprivation his boyish palate must have undergone during that long year!

The doctor's mother Avas a remarkable woman, and needs more than a passing notice. She lived to the age of ninety -three, with all her faculties unimpaired. She survived her husband many years, he (dying at the age of sixty-seven) leaving her his small estate, which by her providence she increased, though her gifts were many and muniiicent. When her children were young, after attending to her household duties through the day, she would sit up far into the night, and while the others slept, accomplish the greater part of her sewing, which was of no ordinary kind. Two weeks before her death (it must be remembered she was then ninety-three), she had been engaged on some fine needle-work.

After giving up her home she resided with her daughter living directly opposite. There she found a melancholy satisfaction in looking over at the house where, through the lights and shadows, the hospitalities of other days had transpired. One night she saw this old home burn to the ground.

She spent a part of each alternate year with the doctor's family, and as a labor of love (after she was eighty) hemmed and "whipped" many of the fine linen cambric rufiles he then wore. He told her of an excitable French patient who said to him one day —

"Docteur! I shall tear off ze frille, some time, it make me so exasperate! I nevare get zings don up like zat!"

She was fond of making written extracts from her Bible. Up to the time of her death, her letters were written in a clear, neat hand.

Her face, slightly severe, was intelligent, and often and easily lighted up with a peculiarly humorous smile. She was of medium height, her form plump and erect, and her step vigorous. Her clothes fitted her perfectly, and were of handsome material. She was particular in her personal appearance and always made a point. of dressing for dinner. Among other graces she was wise, never allowing her son to imagine she saw any shortcomings in her daughter-in-law. She was amiable — in fact she was exceptional.

This little tribute is due from one who, under all circumstances, received her warmest affection.

The doctor, averse to his name when a boy, once asked his mother why she called him "Moses."

"Because, my son," she answered, "it was the name of your grandfather, — a courteous, amiable old gentleman, whom we hoped to have you emulate."

"That is a good reason, but I could just as well have emulated him — without his name."

He never quite forgave her this infliction, and never, until maturer years, signed his name in full.

When writing to his wife, he indulged in a nom de plume.

The rudiments of Doctor Gunn's education were begun very early, so early that he was allowed a pillow in school. He was twelve years old, when a young theological student became a member of his father's family, and was his tutor for three years. Then he entered the East Bloomfield Academy, where he pursued his studies until they were interrupted by a serious illness followed by prolonged invalidism. During a part of this time he rode on horseback to the academy, though a painful side often prevented his riding faster than a walk. A constant inclination to bend over either when walking or riding, he fought against, and a supreme effort of his will alone enabled him to sit upright in his saddle. His mother watched him with extreme solicitude for two years; finally a change of climate and a sea voyage aided in his recovery.

When on his way to New York, he was informed by a sympathetic passenger on board the "Packet Boat" (which was then the popular mode of travel in that section) that he would die of consumption, in less than a yeax*.

His sister says: — "After the first winter of my brother's illness he was always busy binding books or engaged in some mechanical employment. It was during this time he traced the ancestral line in both his grandfathers' families. "

A few months after his return from the South, he entered Dr. Carr's office in Canandaigua, as a student of medicine. He soon became a favorite with Dr. Carr; close attention to his duties won the doctor's regard, and he often drove with him on his professional rounds. His preceptor wore a large, blue camlet cloak, then much in vogue. One morning as they were starting out on their expedition a corner of the cloak blew over the young student's arm. Turning to Dr. Carr, he said: — " How proud I should be if your mantle could fall upon my shoulder.'" Looking at him earnestly, his preceptor replied, " My boy, you will wear a greater mantle than

Chapter Second

A N old-time friend, J. S. R , writing about his

-^^ early acquaintance with my husband, refers to his student-life at that period: —

" I often met Moses Gunn when he was studying medicine, and a member of Dr. Carr's family. I invariably noticed him intent upon his work; this made a deep impression upon me. After he had been studying a year, Dr. Carr would frequently take him when he had a difficult case, and always when he had an operation. Few physicians outside the cities had a reputation equal to his, for skillful and successful operations. He did aearly all the surgery within a radius of many miles; it was beneficial for your husband to be associated with sucli a man. Yet I recall a time when, speaking of a certain operation at which he assisted, he said 'If I ever have a case like that I shall manage it differently.' The treatment which he had in mind was radically different from that of his preceptor. Thus, while he studied, he thought for himself. Years after, when recalling old times, it occurred to me to ask him if lie had ever had such a case. I remember the satisfaction with which he replied 'Yes, several, and was successful according to those early convictions. '

"It is not necessary for me to speak of the doctor's splendid achievements; those you already know. My only object in writing this brief retrospect, is to make you better acquainted with the kind of man he was, before you knew him."

These are the recollections and impressions of one who knew Doctor Gunn in boyhood, as well as in later years : —

"When I first entered the family, the doctor was a boy of eleven. From that time forth, he had the same lovable nature which characterized his life; ever ready to contribute to the pleasure of others, or to the relief of their pain.

"Especially was he endeared to me during the last illness and at the bedside of my dying husband. . A student of medicine, he left his books, to devote himself night and day to the almost entire care of him.

" I can never forget the stay and comfort he was to me while passing through this, my first great affliction. No matter how often I disturbed his snatches of sleep by day or night, he awoke to my relief with unabated tenderness. ......

" His purity of character and unselfishness were so transparent, that I watched his development with interest and affection, and I believe there are few whose lives, from childhood ouAvard, are kept so free from stain or blemish.

"I am very glad I was permitted to meet the doctor so recently, by which the sacred memories of the long ago were revived."

Professor C. L. Ford writes of his early and later associations with Doctor Gunn: —

"I was a student of Dr. Edson Carr, of Canandaigua, N. Y., and after being graduated at Geneva College, was appointed Demonstrator of Anatomy, which office I held for several years.

"On my way to and from Geneva, I occasionally spent a few hours in Canandaigua, and there I first met your husband, who was then a student of Dr. Carr, as I had been before. By these occasional interviews, I became aware of his earnestness in whatever he undertook, and especially of his enthusiastic devotion to the study of anatomy.

"In October, 1844, he became a member of the medical class, and was at once recognized as a man of more than ordinary promise. The session passed as do most college sessions, without any specially exciting or noteworthy incidents, and he was again energetically at work as before in Dr. Carr's office. At the opening of the session of 1845-6, Dr. Gnnn returned and resumed work as usual. During this session my health was by no means good, as I had not fully recovered from a severe pneumonia, and my friend had already obtained such a knowledge of anatomy and had shown so much skill in dissecting, and imparting knowledge, that he became to me a valuable assistant and I often assigned to him duties that belonged to me. In all these, he evinced so much aptness and skill in instructing others, that it foreshadowed his appropriate field of labor as a future instructor as well as operator.

"During the college session, while mutually engaged in instructing others, we sometimes, as was very natural, talked of the future, and built air-castles, as young men occasionally will do, and even went so far as to hope that in the not distant future we might be associated in some medical college, where he should be professor of surgery, and I should teach anatomy.

"At the close of the session, the College received from a prison of the State an unclaimed body, which was to be devoted to scientific uses; and as we had no means of preserving it, and no occasion to use it after the college was closed. Dr. Gunn was allowed to employ it for purposes of instruction.

"As an illustration of his enterprise, he received his diploma on Tuesday, left his home on the Monday following the day of his graduation, and started for Michigan; and in two weeks from the day he left, he had made arrangements, and commenced a course of lectures on anatomy in Ann Arbor, for which his previous earnest devotion to dissection had made admirable preparation ; and the thorough study he had given the subject ever after inspired the confidence and self-reliance, based on accurate knowledge, with which he undertook formidable operations.

"Here he began his professional life and surgical career. His facility in lecturing, and his manifest acquaintance with the subject he had undertaken to teach, attracted attention and marked him as no ordinary man; and on succeeding seasons he repeated lectures on anatomy, accompanied by dissections and demonstrations, — the first ever given in Ann Arbor, if not in Michigan. ....

"In the fall of 1850 Dr. Gunn was duly appointed Professor of Anatomy and Surgery in the Medical College. In 1854 it was deemed desirable that he should no longer be required to teach anatomy in connection with surgery, and in June of that year I was appointed

Professor of Anatomy, and our youtliful aspiration was realized, wherein one taught anatomy and the other surgery, from that time till he resigned and went to Chicago; making us co-laborers for thirteen years of harmonious co-operation and friendly rivalry, as teachers of our respective branches of medical education.