Civil War Days

Two Old Dearborn Doctors

Civil War Days Recalled

by Henry A. Haigh

The Dearborn Press

March 18, 1931

          Dr. Sweeney and Dr. Snow, rare old characters of Old Dearborn, were among the men who interested me much.

          It seemed to me, in my youthful days in the good old town, that there were more interesting and odd old characters there than anywhere else in the world.  Perhaps it was because my observation was then limited to the little hamlet of about 500 people that lived in Dearborn in those wonderful days of long ago.

          And it was a glorious time, especially for wild-eyed boys of ten and twelve, those thrilling days of the 1860’s, when the Civil War was on and everything seemed fateful and terribly important.

          The soldiers were there at the Old Arsenal, a full regiment at times, sometimes separate companies, squads, recruits and veterans, coming and going, training, marching and holding grand parades.  War worked wonders in the little town.  Bands of martial music, fifes, drums, the call of bugles, and the firing of the great sunrise and sunset guns kept old and young alert.

          Great men came and went; General Grant and his staff on a special train, the town turning out to meet them; General Sherman, much beloved, who remained overnight and was entertained at my father’s house, and local heroes like Governor Blair, Michigan’s war governor and General Custer, famed Michigan soldier from Monroe--are among many that I recall.  They were received with cheers and cannon salutes, reviewed parades, held conferences, made speeches and departed, while the natives watched and wondered.

          The common talk of the town was of great heroes like “Old Abe”, and great events like “Gettysburg” and “Appomattox” and the shock of the assassination of Lincoln.

          This was the setting of the times in which the old characters of Dearborn can best be pictured.

          Of the dozen or more whose names come back distinctly, two stand out in memory as among the interesting characters of old Dearborn – Dr. Thomas Sweeney, and Dr. Edward A. Snow, both bright men, good citizens and good physicians of the old “family doctor” type, both devoted to their patients, their families and the public welfare.

          But politically they were diametrically opposed.  Dr. Snow was a “black Republican”, a stalwart champion of the Union, an advocate of the war as a protection of human liberty and as a means of procuring the freedom of the slaves.  Dr. Sweeney was an old-time, unregenerate Democrat, opposed to war, an advocate of the right of secession, a sympathizer with the South and a justifier of the rebellion.  He was called a “copperhead” but he could support his position by arguments hard to refute.  Yet at heart he, like Dr. Snow, was a kindly man, with a wide range of knowledge and a fondness for discussion; but Dr. Sweeney was not much given to story telling.

          Dr. Snow, on the other hand, was very fond of telling stories and could tell them well.  He enjoyed a “dish of conversation” specially if it ended with some humorous conclusion.  Space permits repeating but one of the good doctor’s stories, though all were wholesome and some funny, as the following may show.

          It seems that in those early days there was an old fellow who was a pretty good citizen in a general way, but who had one serious failing—more common formerly than now—that of “going on a spree”—with no evil intention further than having a harmless good time.  But on one occasion the “spree” extended to such length and was pursued so ardently as to result in an illness bordering on delirium tremens.  The devoted wife knowing of this weakness, finally succeeded in getting the old chap home and in bed where he dropped at once into profound slumber from which he refused to be aroused.

          The poor woman, knowing the danger of the dreaded delirium drowse, became so alarmed that she sent for the doctor and the priest.  On their arrival, rushing them to the bedside and shaking her husband, she exclaimed shrilly, “Rouse ye, rouse ye, the doctor’s come and the priest has come.  Rouse ye, lest it be too late.”  But all to no effect.  The more the good priest pleaded and the doctor dosed, the deeper seemed the drowse.  While they were giving another heart stimulant, a storm that had been brewing broke suddenly with a crash of thunder and a blast of wind. 

          The terrified wife in desperation grabbing the patient by the ears and bumping him up and down cried out, “Wake up, the storm is raging and the wind is blowing down the house!  Wake ye, we’ll sure be kilt.”

          At this the patient roused himself enough to utter faintly, “Wind, Hum!  Throw out a little peppermint.  It’s good for wind!”