By Thomas P. Elliott, President
Barnes County Historical Soc. Inc.
The first medical man to settle in Barnes County in Dakota Territory days was Dr. S. B. Coe. He came primarily to establish a newspaper, the Northern Pacific Times, which began publication in May of 1879.
Valley City was then a village of about 12 houses but began to grow like the proverbial "Topsy" in the spring and Dr. Coe thought there was a good future for a newspaper.
There remains little information as to Dr. Coe's medical practice since he did not mention it in his newspaper. His son, Dr. H. W. Coe, had associated himself with the paper but he did actively engage in a medical practice. In fact, on October 16, 1879, it is noted that Dr. Darrow of Fargo was called to treat a gunshot wound suffered by Mr. Butterfield because, "Dr. H. W. Coe was in the East courting his girl!"
Dr. Harley De Veau, a dapper Frenchman, arrived sometime toward the end of 1879. He, according to one story, had been with Sibley's Army and had been stationed at Fort Totten when his term of service came to an end. The story goes that he decided to ski south to meet the Northern Pacific Railroad and then decided to remain in Valley City when he arrived here. Dr. H. W. Coe had left for Bismarck to set up a practice and possibly another newspaper.
Dr. De Veau advertised that he was both an M.D. and an A.D., whatever that was. No one questioned his qualifications. He habitually dressed in a close-fitting suit with his trousers in knee length boots of fine leather and wore a coat of dark material trimmed in white. His moustache was curled and waxed to two fine points.
In the spring he usually changed to a fine dark blue suit and wore white kid gloves. He let it be known that he was the eldest son of the Duke of Rhiems, in France.
Shortly before October 14, 1880, his father, whose name was Samuel, accompanied by a younger son, arrived for a visit. They put up at the best hotel, the
Sherman House, where they entertained lavishly. They were in turn received royally by the elite of the village. The Duke, a short, smiling, genial gentleman of the "old school" announced that he had, "fallen in love with Valley City" and was considering selling his Rhinish castle and settling in Barnes County. Three weeks later the three De Veaus disappeared.
After several weeks passed without any word as to their whereabouts, it was noted by the editor that the De Veaus had left owing some rather large sums of money, most of it spent on entertainment. The sheriff began to make some discreet inquiries in Fargo and Minneapolis but to no avail. November passed, as did December and January of 1 881. The mystery deepened with the passing days.
On February 5, 1881, who should step off the morning train but our dear Dr. Harley De Veau. He, at once, proceeded to visit every merchant and pay up the monies owed. He explained that he had been called away suddenly and that was it. True to the code of the frontier, no one ventured to question him further and life returned to normal in the booming village of Valley City.
Early Valley City was built in an area where there were numerous low spots. Some were buffalo wallows but others were large in area. Heavy rains and flooding from the river left these spots filled with water. Stagnation and the resultant hordes of mosquitos made life miserable. Residents found them convenient places in which to dispose of their garbage and the manure from their barns. By late 1880 the village trustees had become increasingly aware of the problem and Dr. De Veau had assured them that the "Miasma" from these stink-holes was undoubtedly quite dangerous to the public health.
Steps were taken to have the worst of the lot filled in and the citizens were told to bury their garbage. However, nothing was done about the manure piles behind every barn in the village. To compound the situation, the editor noted that there were several dead horses within the village limits. The trustees ordered the owners to cart the dead bodies outside the city limits and bury them forthwith. When this failed, the trustees hired the work done but the dirt was hard and the bodies were barely covered, so that the wolves and coyotes uncovered the bodies and the smell was gently wafted over the village. The job had to be done over.
There were three extensive low spots in the village. One was located at the intersection of what is now Main Street and Second Avenue Southeast, extending southwestward to the rear of the Rudolf Hotel. Another was located at the corner of the Straus building, encompassing the area of the First National Bank and the Northwestern National Bank. The third spot extended from the rear of the Woolworth Store eastward to the new Fire Station. The depth of these low spots dictated the building of sidewalks on stilts, and accidents resulting in the unscheduled dunking of the inhabitants were common and sometimes reported with glee by the paper, but always with the question, "What are the city fathers going to do about it?"
The trustees finally entered into an agreement with the railroad to allow them to build a spur to the gravel pit in the northeastern part of the city and in return the railroad was to use the overburden from the gravel pit to fill the three low spots in the city. Some filling was done but not to the satisfaction of the townspeople. The editor noted that he still had to take a boat from the railroad station to the First National Bank, just across the corner. He also said that he had seen a hat floating across the street only to find it was a citizen crossing from east to west on what was then known as 5th Avenue.
Dr. De Veau was joined in 1881 by Dr. J. W. Vidal, fresh from medical school and newly married. The following year Dr. Ferrin arrived, followed shortly by Dr. Sayles. It is fairly obvious that there could not have been a large practice for that many medical men in the village of Valley City. However, medical practice in those days was different. Much of the medical practitioner's time was taken up by calling upon patients in their homes, since there were no hospitals in Barnes County. Calling at a home sometimes meant a day's ride by horseback or by buggy one way. It sometimes meant a train ride to another town and back the next day or several days later. Life was not easy for the doctors of that time.
One of the ever-present dangers of living in those days was the possibility of being injured in a "run-a-way:" Indeed, patching up people injured as the consequence of a frightened horse or horses consumed a large part of a doctor's time. Accidents from the careless use of the common ax and pitchfork as well as gunshot wounds were all too frequent. Sometimes the gun-shot wounds were accidental and sometimes intentional.
At any rate, medical men of the time had little time for pleasure but most availed themselves of the fact that hunting and fishing were superb in the Dakotas. Dr. De Veau was an avid hunter and took time off to make a trip or two to the Devils Lake area where geese and ducks were plentiful. Also, there was a chance that a buffalo might appear, although there were few left after 1880.
On January 19, 1884 the first county hospital was placed in operation. Dr. De Veau, then county coroner and physician, had recommended that establishment of a building where indigent persons under the care of the county physician might be placed and where cases of. communicable diseases might be isolated. A building was built east of the brickyard, which would place it in the area of 8th Avenue Northwest. It consisted of several rooms for patients and living quarters for the couple hired to look after the patients. A Mr. and Mrs. Black were hired and they began with four patients; two transients with unspecified ailments and two transients with gun-shot wounds.
January 11th, 1884, Dr. Ferrin was called down the Valley on a case and in returning to Valley City, he froze his nose. The editor, who was always poking fun at someone in the community, noted that Dr. Ferrin had suffered the frozen nose and that he had treated himself and then sent himself a bill with the following itemized entry, "To treating one frozen nose - no charge for the large size!"
It was in the same year that the salary of the county coroner was raised to the magnificent sum of $400.00 per year.
The territorial government had passed no laws or regulations governing the qualifications necessary to practice medicine in the Territory. As a consequence, there were those individuals arriving in the Territory to practice medicine whose qualifications would not bear the cold hard light of day. There were those individuals who were running from some situation in the east and who hqped to get lost in the wilds of Dakota. One such man was a Dr. Calvert. He had deserted his wife and children and turned up in what is now South Dakota. Here he had remarried without the courtesy of obtaining a divorce or notifying his wife. With his new wife, he came to the new town of Eckelson, on the Northern Pacific, and began a new practice. However, his former wife traced him to Eckelson, had the new marriage annulled, sued for divorce and took him for all he had, about $40,000.
In the early part of January, 1885, Dr. Vidal was called to Eckelson on a case so he caught the local train. Eckelson was then on the west edge of Eckelson Lake and the trains did not like to stop here as it was on an incline, making it difficult to get the train going again. Dr. Vidal asked the conductor to stop the train and let him off and the conductor refused, since there were no other passengers for Eckelson. Dr. Vidal pleaded, but to no avail.
Deciding to take things into his own hands, Dr. Vidal walked to the rear of the train, where he climbed over the railing with his little black bag and jumped. The editor of the Valley City Times, in recounting the episode, noted, "He seemed in undue haste when he landed. He took several lightening giant steps and then settled down to business. During this time he fell down seven times. Finally, picking himself up, he shook his fist at the fast disappearing train and dusted himself off. Looking about, he finally found his black bag, something the worse for wear. Going back to the scene of his first jump, he measured the length of his longest step and found that it measured 16 feet. . . and that is some step!"
In 1885 Dr. H. W. Coe and Seth Richardson, the editor of the Valley City Times, both members of the legislature, co-sponsored a bill regulating the licensing and setting the qualifications for medical men who desired to practice in Dakota Territory and the Territory became of age, medically speaking.
Source: Barnes County History 1976 Page 318