A New Guide for Emigrants to the West

by John Mason Peck

That this state is as healthy as any other western state, can be abundantly supported by facts. Let a candid observer compare the health of the early settlers of New England, with that of the early settlers of the West, and he will find the scale to preponderate in favor of the latter. Unless there is some strange fatality attending Illinois, its population must be more healthy than the early settlers of a timbered region. But in no period of its history have sickness and death triumphed, in any respect equal to what they did two or three years since, in the lake country of New York.

The year 1811, is recorded in the memoirs of the early settlers, as a season of unusual sickness near the banks of the Mississippi and Missouri rivers. The latter river rose to an unusual height in June, the waters of the small creeks were backed up, and a large surface of luxuriant vegetation was covered and deadened. This was succeeded by hot and dry weather. Bilious and intermittent fevers prevailed extensively. The seasons of 1819, '20, and '21 were usually sickly in Illinois and Missouri. Emigrants, in shoals, had spread over a wide range of country within a year or two preceding. Multitudes were placed under circumstances the most unfavorable to the preservation of health, in new and open cabins of green timber, often using the stagnant water of creeks and ponds, with a luxuriant vegetation around them undergoing decomposition, and all the other evils attendant on the settlement of a new and unbroken country. Under such circumstances, can it be surprising that many were sick, and that many died? The summer of 1820 was the hottest and driest ever known in this country. For weeks in succession, the thermometer, in the shade at St. Louis, was up to 96° for hours in the day. Not a cloud came over the sun, to afford a partial relief from its burning influence. The fevers of that season were unusually rapid, malignant, and unmanageable. Almost every mark of the yellow fever, as laid down in the books, was exhibited in many cases, both in town and country. The bilious fever put on its most malignant type. Black, fœtid matter was discharged from the stomach, and by stools. The writer and all his family suffered severely that season. He lived seventeen miles from St. Louis, on the road to St. Charles in Missouri, on a farm. The settlement had been called healthy. The Missouri bottom was one mile distant. Three miles west southwest, was the Creve-cœur lake, a body of water several miles in length and half a mile in width, connected by an outlet with the Missouri river. The water of this lake was entirely stagnant, covered with a thick scum, and sent forth a noisome smell. Fish in it died. My oldest son, a robust youth of ten years of age, and my brother-in-law, a hale and stout young man, sickened and died the first week in October. I was attacked the 5th day of July, came as near dying as a person could and recover. All my children were sick. While convalescent, in September, I took a long journey to Cape Girardeau country, 120 miles south, and back through the lead mine country to the Missouri river, 60 miles west of St. Louis, and in all the route found that sickness had prevailed to the same extent.

At Vincennes and other parts of Indiana, disease triumphed. The country around Vincennes, on the east side of the Wabash, is a sandy plain. A gentleman who escaped the ravages of fever in that place, and who was much engaged in nursing the sick and consoling the dying, stated to me that nothing was so disheartening as the cloudless sky and burning sun that continued unchanged for weeks in succession. Mortality prevailed to a great extent along the banks of the Wabash. Hindostan, a town on the east fork of White river, 38 miles from Vincennes on the road to Louisville, was begun the preceding year. Seventy or eighty families had crowded in at the commencement of the year 1820. The heavy timber of poplar, (whitewood) oak and beech, had been cut down, the brush burned, and the logs left on the ground. By June the bark was loosened, an intolerable stench proceeded from the timber,—sickness followed, and about two thirds of the population died! And yet, to look about the place, there is no local cause that would indicate sickness. In the summer of 1821, sickness prevailed very extensively, but in a much milder form. Its type was intermittent, and usually yielded to ordinary remedies. During that year the number of deaths in St. Louis was 136—the population 5000. At least one third of that number were strangers and transient persons, who either arrived sick, or were taken sick within two or three days after arrival. St. Louis had then no police regulations—the streets were filthy in the extreme—and the population were crowded into every hole and corner. This was the most sickly and dying season St. Louis ever knew, except when the cholera prevailed in October, 1832.

The same years (1820-21) were noted for unusual sickness throughout the United States, and indeed the whole world. The bilious fever prevailed in the hilly and mountainous districts of Virginia and Pennsylvania, and even among the Green Mountains of Vermont.

Very little general sickness (except cholera in 1832-'33) prevailed in 1830, '31, '32, or '33. In 1834, congestive fever, and dysentery, with some of the symptoms of cholera, existed in many places in the West, though not extensively fatal. In the month of June, were frequent sudden showers in Illinois and Missouri, with intervals of extreme heat. July and August very hot and dry. The disease began early in July and continued till September.

The year 1835, was the most sickly year, for common intermittents, which prevailed more amongst the old settlers, than the newly arrived emigrants. In Illinois, and generally throughout the West, below the fortieth degree of latitude, it was sickly, though not fatal. Early in the spring, till the month of May, it was unusually dry, and vegetation was two weeks later than usual. May and a part of June were very wet, followed by a few days of extremely hot weather. Vegetation grew with great luxuriance. Newly ploughed ground sent forth a noxious effluvium, with a most offensive odour, and after a few days would be covered with a greenish coat, like the scum on stagnant water. Town situations, even along the banks of river, were comparatively healthy.

In case of sickness, physicians are to be found in almost every county, and every season adds to their number. Charges are somewhat higher than in the northern states. Many families keep a few simple articles of medicine, and administer for themselves. Calomel is a specific; and is taken by multitudes without hesitation, or fear of danger. From fifteen to twenty grains are an ordinary dose for a cathartic. Whenever nausea of the stomach, pains in the limbs, and yawning, or a chill, indicate the approach of disease, a dose of calomel is taken at night, in a little apple honey, or other suitable substance, and followed up in the morning with a dose of castor oil, or salts, to produce a brisk purge. Sometimes an emetic is preferred. Either a cathartic or an emetic will leave the system under some debility. The mistake frequently made is, in not following up the evacuating medicine with tonics. This should be done invariably, unless the paroxysm of fever has commenced. A few doses of sulphate of quinine or Peruvian bark in its crude state, will restore the system to its natural tone. To prevent an attack of fever, medicine should be taken on the very first symptoms of a diseased stomach; it should not be tampered with, but taken in sufficient doses to relieve the system from morbid effects, and then followed up by tonics, to restore its vigor and prevent relapse.

New comers will find it advantageous for protecting themselves from the damp atmosphere at night, to provide close dwellings; yet when the air is clear, to leave open doors and windows at night for free circulation, but not to sleep directly in the current of air; and invariably to wear thin clothing in the heat of the day, and put on thicker garments at night, and in wet and cloudy weather.

I have observed that those families are seldom sick who live in comfortable houses, with tight floors, and well ventilated rooms; and who, upon change of weather, and especially in time of rains, make a little fire in the chimney, although the thermometer might not indicate the necessity.

In fine, I am prepared to give my opinion, decidedly, in favor of the general health of this country and climate. I would not certainly be answerable for all the bad locations, the imprudences, and whims of all classes of emigrants, which may operate unfavorably to health. I only speak for myself and family. I decidedly prefer this climate, with all its miasm, to New-England, with its northeast winds, and damp, "raw" and pulmonary atmosphere. We very seldom have fogs in Illinois and Missouri. My memoranda, kept with considerable accuracy, for twelve years, give not more than half a dozen foggy mornings in a year.