Up the Gatineau! Article
This article was first published in Up the Gatineau! Volume 12.
Doctors Up The Gatineau
Since Dr. Stuart Geggie retired from the active practice of medicine, for health reasons, in 1985, he has busied himself reviewing the accumulated writings of his father, Dr. Harold Geggie. In this he has been capably assisted by his wife, Norma.
Norma and Stuart Geggie were the authors of two well-known books on their area — ’Lapêche' and ‘Unto the Hills'. These were published with some assistance from the Historical Society of the Gatineau.
The Geggies have been represented in past issues of the annual booklet of the Society. in 1976, their daughter, Judith, had an article "The Development of a Community in Lower Canada - Wakefield“ for which she had won first Prize in a 1973 Essay Contest sponsored by this Society. In 1982, Norma Geggie, had an article "I.B. York - a Man of Many Parts" - a shopkeeper in Wakefield who served his community well. This article was an award-winner in the Society's 1981 Essay Contest.
Regional Doctors
In 1851, the closest doctor for residents of the lower Gatineau valley, would have been in Hull or Aylmer. This, perhaps, was not as much of a problem as it would be today. People did not go to a doctor as readily as now. Furthermore, there was very little that the doctor could do for the majority of illnesses - no antibiotics, none of the specialized drugs for heart disease, hypertension, and arteriosclerosis. Even seventy-five years later, in the 1930s, epidemics were common, with serious death rates - diphtheria, smallpox, scarlet fever, typhoid fever and tuberculosis. Pneumonia was a scourge; Dr. Harold Geggie called it "the ten day terror." He said that he never told people that they had pneumonia - “cold on the chest“ was the term used. Since the advent of sulphas in 1940, and later, penicillin in 1945, the fear of pneumonia, scarlet fever, and, with other drugs, tuberculosis, has mostly vanished. Maintenance of the patients general strength, diet, water intake, and comfort, was all that anyone could do. Now, the doctor can airily say, "you have pneumonia, but you will be better in a few days."
A smallpox epidemic occurred in Montreal in the 1870s, about which is written, in a medical text book, the following: "The disease spread like wildfire through the unprotected population. There died that year in Montreal alone, three thousand one hundred and forty people, of which two thousand one hundred and seventeen were children under seven years of age.” Since then, wide spread vaccination throughout the world has eliminated this disease.
Dr. Harold Geggie spoke of an epidemic of diphtheria in 1911, where many people died in Duclos and East Aldfield. He said that he would go into a home and find two or three dead people, and one or two alive, but too ill to do anything. At that time, diphtheria serum was available, but it had to be administered early in the disease to be of value.
Dr. R.H. Church and Dr. William Barkridge were in Aylmer in 1851; in Hull, Dr. Decelles was alone. The latter signed a petition, with 179 others in 1846, asking for a Government grant to improve and repair the road up the Gatineau for some seventy-five miles. In particular, a bridge across the Pêche River was mentioned. Ten years later, Dr. Stephen Wright had settled in Wakefield with his wife and children. In the 1861 census, he stated that he owned one acre of land, a buggy and one horse. Dr. Wright was the grandson of Thomas Wright, who was Philemon's brother. Dr. Decelles was still in Hull; Aylmer boasted two doctors, John Aylen and R. H. Church. Three medical students called Aylmer their home.
In 1871 two doctors had come to Wright (Gracefield), Dr. Germaine, and Dr. Louis Duhamel. By 1881 Hull had two doctors, Aylmer five, and Dr. Hans Stevenson, aged twenty-eight, had opened a practice in Chelsea. "Big" Dr. Falls had replaced Stephen Wright in Wakefield. Census returns for Masham 1881 list Dr. James Pritchard, age 29, as a doctor. The Pritchard genealogy, written by Mr. P.M.O. Evans, states that Dr. James Pritchard, youngest son of Andrew and Many (Edey) Pritchard, was born in 1869. He attended school in Cobourg, Ont., Victoria College, and McGill University where he graduated in medicine in 1897. He started to practise in Chelsea and, after a short time, moved to Alcove where he lived and worked until his death in 1918. If the son of Andrew and Mary was born in 1869 he would only be 12 years old in 1881, hence, there must have been another of the same name, a doctor, in Masham in that year.
Dr. James Pritchard (son of Andrew and Mary) married Maud Pratt and had a family of five sons and one daughter. Two sons studied medicine as did, at least, one grand child. He was Dr. Stevenson's, and subsequently, Dr. Harold Geggie's closest colleague.
Hull and Aylmer medical staff had increased, as befitting the rapid growth of these towns. Hull had Dr. Marsden and Dr. Sydney Cooke. Drs. John Aylen, Coller (sic.) Church, Frederick Church, James Aylen, and Edmund Woods, all practised their profession in Aylmer.
Dr. Hans Stevenson, born in the family homestead on the road to Eidelweiss ski resort, was the youngest of the large family of Thomas and Ann (Pritchard) Stevenson. Thomas had immigrated from Northern Ireland about 1830. Ann arrived with her family a year or two later. Hans became first a school teacher, and later studied medicine at McGill under the “father of clinical medicine" - Sir William Osler, graduating in 1880. He then moved to Chelsea, prior to returning to practise in his home village in 1884, until his death.
Dr. Harold Geggie came to Wakefield in response to an advertisement at McGill for a young doctor to assist Dr. Stevenson. The latter was not well, and was to die six months later, of heart disease. Harold Geggie had grown up on a farm at Beauport, near Quebec City. Although being an English Presbyterian, he was fluently French speaking, and respected his Francophone patients and their religion. He married Dr. Stevenson's second daughter, Elia, in 1914, and after much soul-searching, stayed as a lone doctor, and continued in artive practice for more than fifty years.
Various doctors practised for short periods in Masham, one being Dr. Pelletier. Doctor Mulligan and Dr. Cameron Sully worked at Kazabazua. During World War I Dr. Kemp came to replace Dr. Harold Geggie, and later, when Dr. Geggie was in Scotland, Dr. Haddon Rabb replaced him. Dr. Rabb was a local boy, from Poltimore, who worked for many years at Fort Coulonge as a family physician and County Medical Officer of Health.
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The following are three excerpts from a forth-coming book, written by Dr. Harold Geggie, and now being edited and prepared for publication by Dr. and Mrs. Stuart Geggie.
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The Telephone
One of my first drives with Dr. Hans Stevenson, was to lsaie Brazeau's house on telephone business. They had, together, organized a rural party single wire telephone system from Wakefield to Wolf Lake and East Aldfield in Pontiac County, in 1906. The line was thirty-five miles long. M. Brazeau did much of the installation, and the Doctor provided the money, his own; and from his friends, contributions of poles and labour. The exchange was at Isaie Brazeau's house in Ste. Cecile de Masham; later it was moved a mile or so away to Norbert Martineau's place. He had been a life-long sufferer of asthma, slept very badly, and so was the best night operator available.
After some years, during the first World War, the line was pushed across “no-man's-land", to Quyon through the Onslow country. By now the lines had become metallic, as hydro had come in and made the grounded lines too noisy.
When I came to Wakefield, the line to Farm Point was just being built, and the switch was located, for want of a better place, in Dr. Stevenson‘s house. The lines were organized to facilitate the Doctor's business; he out in some $1,000.00 in money, and many hours of organization and worry, to save himself many a long trip with his horses.
With a party line, everyone along the road would know where the Doctor was going, and if another call came, it was often possible, by means of the phone, to locate him and head him off on his way home - possible, too, for Mrs. Stevenson, or a kind friend, to take a fresh team to meet him at the crossroads and bring home the tired one. It was quite easy to ring the Doctor's one long ring on a party line, and within a few minutes, have half-a dozen listeners, one of whom was sure to know something of the Doctor's movements, and one of whom was always good enough to drive out to head him off with the message.
Sometime in the 1920's, the switchboard was brought down to Wakefield from Norbert Martineau's, and located at Mr. Fred Wills’. There was then no night service, as the switchboard was in another building adjoining his home. Mrs. Wills was bilingual and knew everyone, and was most helpful to everyone in perplexity. For many years she did a splendid job.
After the death of Dr. Stevenson, I, as his successor in the practice, was obliged to look after the interests of the telephone company. My objective was to get at least a free exchange of messages between the four companies that radiated from Wakefield.
The local authorities of each line were jealous of one another. Most of us had at least two phone boxes on our wall, but as there were four points to the compass, I had four boxes. Never did these four local lines fully exchange messages. They were -the Wakefield and Masham Telephone Company; the Rupert and North Wakefield Telephone Company, sponsored by Dr. James Pritchard and his friends; the East Wakefield Telephone Company, sponsored by Dr. Stevenson, Mr. Vital Deziel of Ste. Pierre de Wakefield and the progressive merchants of Poltimore -Dan McCallum and John Bonsall. The Rev. Father Chenier of East Wakefield had much to do in helping the growth of this line, and Isaie Brazeau engineered its building. Late in the first world war, Rev. Father Chenier of Farrellton interested his parishioners in building the Farrellton Rural Telephone Company. The Hydro installations were giving great troubles with the one-wire grounded systems, and Father Chenier, in 1918 to 1920, built a metallic line which gave much better service than the community had been used to.
Mr. John Reid, manager of the Alexander MacLaren firm in Wakefield, was interested in the first three lines mentioned, for the better prosecution of the extensive MacLaren interests. In the MacLaren office there were three local telephone boxes on the wall, and also a Bell Telephone. Messages could be repeated by the clerks from one system to the other, but there was no direct connection between them. In 1911, the Bell Telephone terminal was at Dr. Kennedy's, the veterinary surgeon, next door to Dr. Stevenson in Wakefield. Calls received by Mrs. Kennedy on the Bell line, were completed only by her contacting the person on a local line, and asking them to come to the Bell office. The Bell station at Dr. Kennedy's was also the terminal of the Maniwaki Telephone line, which went on for another eighty miles to the head of civilization on the Gatineau.
Perhaps the best remembered of the switchboard operators at Wakefield, was Mr. Jim Robb, who took it up when Mrs. Wills left. He was a victim of vascular disease in his legs, and after repeated surgery, he sat for years, legless, in his wheelchair, answering the community's calls. Night or day, Jim would get to the switch in spite of his infirmities, and was helped by his sister and brother-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Fred Moffatt.
The story is told of one lady gossiping on the line, who happened to mention that she had beans in the oven. Jim Robb, thinking she was taking up too much time, sought to drive her off by exclaiming: "Mrs.... your beans are burning, I smell them."
Evil times came to Wakefield and its telephone lines. Poles in clay country have a limited usefulness. Thomas Brazeau, Isaie's son, took up the repair work, but he was unable to climb rotten poles.
The rural lines gave an opportunity to more than one local lad, and even today, still working in “line” work for the Bell Telephone Company, are Brian Gorhem, Harold Stevenson, and several others, who got their start with the Masham Telephone Company. Leslie Gorham went on to the Gatineau Power Company; good men they were too, teamed up with occasional helpers. Brian and his helper, my son, Hans Geggie, changed a customer's baby's diaper, leaving the telephone box ready for more gossip, and the baby happy and clean.
The era of rural phone business was going out, the Bell Company was ready and able to wait; when nothing was left but the charter and the right of way, Bell took over. A thousand dollars was paid for what was left of the system, with all the records, so that no-one could come back on them with more or less fictitious claims. The big company had been there before and would not make another mistake. However, we have had better service since, and the fact remains that Wakefield had telephone service before many important areas in Quebec. Within twenty-five years of the development of the telephone, Wakefield had service.
Popular Remedies
Popular remedies and measures are used by my patients and midwives. Are they based on experience, on tradition, on ignorance or superstition?
There is the tradition of the “nine days.“ A woman has a fall or a fright, and she may expect a miscarriage in nine days. A woman has a warning or false alarm of labour, and she expects her delivery in nine days. Many will get up on the third postpartum day, and not a few will go back to bed for the famous "ninth day." Why? The old women advise it.
Then the daily taking of flax seed to “oil the passage“ used to be in very common use. "Le beau mal" was a very common term. Almost any abdominal upset in a female was "beau mal", this could be all the way from gallstones with jaundice and vomiting, to cystitis and pyelitis, to extensive prolapse and bladder stones. “Rognon de caster“ in gin or high wines is the remedy. In my first years, few houses where I was called to a sick female were without a bottle of "high wine" with bits of beaver's kidney floating about in it. Many a time, my patient had an appendiceal abscess and I found her vomiting high wines with beaver kidney. It was useless for men, they did not have "beau mal.”
The use of roots of the wild iris tor cystitis, yellow iris for men, and blue iris for women, seemed to be a relic of the ancient “mandrake plant". It had to be gathered at night, with special observations, to be of real value. I have seen it sold on the market at Quebec City as "Belangelique", but l have never seen it used.
In almost every parturient's home was an eggcup or glass of nine handpicked grains of whole, unground wheat. Each day, in the latter months, the patient would carefully count out and swallow nine grains. “J'ai pris mes neuf grains," giving surety of an easy delivery. Also “nine grains" were taken when the patient thought she was in labour. If then, she thought she could lie down, she was sure that it was not time to call the doctor, and if, on the other hand, she jumped up and went to work, she knew as surely that the doctor would hardly get there in time. When I have told an expectant mother that she was not in labour, time and again a surprised look would come into her eyes and she would argue, “but I've taken my nine grains."
There is a whole host of forbidden actions. Cold water must not be given to a woman in labour. “Il faut casser l'eau“ with gin or making it lukewarm. The parturient must not turn off her back or put her arms above her head, or comb her hair. She must not see a cripple or an epileptic or an unknown beggar, or dire consequences will follow, because "the old women have said so."
After the second stage of labour, after the baby is born, the cord is apt to be drawn up by a rising uterine fundus. It must be kept down, so time and again I've seen it tied to the thigh, or held by an old lady for hours, when all that was needed was to express the detached placenta. Once, after waiting twenty four hours, I was called twenty-six miles, with horses, for just such a retained placenta. For a retained placenta, a hard bag of hot salt is put under the patient’s buttocks, then she must blow through her cupped hands, blow until tired out.
The breasts must be kept warm; no water on them, and the best preventative of abscess is a weasel skin to cover them. But if abscesses do occur, remedies used vary from an old man's night cap to autogenous urine (patient's own urine), heated and used as wet compresses. In one such case, three months of such treatment was endured before I came along to incise it and give her sulpha.
Jack-in-the-pulpit corms (roots), dried and grated, are considered good for vomiting and gastric upset; in slices, moistened and bound to the sore spot, the patient will be rewarded by a very efficient counter-irritant, to the point of blistering.
Getting About
Great changes in getting about the country have come over the years. My Preceptor was a great lover of his horses; patients came first, horses next, himself last. There were water-holes along the roads and the horses soon got to know where they were. So did Maggie who lived on top of the hill above one waterhole. She'd see the Doctor's team coming around the curve. She knew the Doctor would stop to water his horses before getting home, and she had just time enough to change her blouse and get down the hill to get a drive to the village, I giving up my place on the seat to stand on the rear axle.
Gatineau bridges were being discussed in the 1860s. Each man wanted the bridge in his own village or backyard; no-one would give in, so political action was ineffective until Father Chenier somehow applied extra influence, and the covered bridge in Farrellton was built in 1914. The next year the Gendron bridge in Wakefield was completed. There were few, or no, roads to get to these bridges. In dry weather the way across the fields was possible; in wet weather at times it was necessary to unhitch the team in the middle of the field and leave the buggy, axle deep in mud, while man and horses staggered to safety. Gradually over the months and years roads were laid out, drained and surfaced to an adequate degree, and we began to enjoy our bridges and go many a mile around to cross on the bridge instead of by the old scows.
These scows were the only way to get across the river for many years. Many were maintained at public expense and at considerable cost. They were about fifteen feet wide by twenty feet long, with sides some two feet high and a railing of another foot or so. Back and front were brought up so as to take the water more easily, and also provide a gang-way for the horses and vehicles to get on and off. Fifteen to eighteen foot oars were balanced as to be not too heavy for even one man to be able to manage. At some places, scows took advantage of the river currents, with an adjustable wing balanced about the middle of the scow so that the considerable river current could push it across the river. These were “cable scows’ attached to a cable running across the river, and were a great luxury, once the formula was mastered. At other points, the eddies along the river banks made cable scows and wings impractical. The scow then was at the mercy of the currents and eddies, with nothing to prevent the crossing being really dangerous and being swept into the rapids below.
At the time of high Spring water, in the first week of May, old Fred and I pulled our hearts out, spent three hours crowing the river at Copeland's Landing, time and again missing the eddy at the far side. We drifted far down within a mile of the rushing waters over the Cascades. Only by catching an overhanging branch were we able, at last, to land two miles below the regular spot.
One great difficulty with scows was the floating logs. The cable scow could be stalled in mid-river with dozens and dozens of logs piled up against it. The tree scow could be made unmanageable, and the man and team become helpless in the currents. Often enough, men along the banks would have to row out in boats to the rescue. Even though the horses were invariably well behaved, the prospect at night, when alone and tired, was anything but enviable, especially if the wind was up the river, slowing the logs.
In November in the first days of early frosts, scows gathering layer upon layer of ice, became very heavy and unwieldy. Then they were hauled up on the bank until Spring.
Sometimes one could use the train. There were two or three trains a day to Maniwaki, and return. When the automobile became common, I first had a Ford, and then a Chevrolet 490. They were never very reliable, and I always said that I learned to swear driving the Ford. The 490 was so called, it is said, because it was on the road for four days, and in the garage for ninety. The fervent hope was that the crown gears in the 490 would hold out until one got home. Of course the horse was still supreme in the Fall, Winter and Spring. The other advantage of a horse was that it could drive itself, at least, on the way home, when I could get some sleep. Garages and repair services were not common, and we always had to carry oil, gas and an air pump to repair the frequent flat tires.
By the late 1930s, snow machines started to be developed. First came a Ford roadster that was converted for snow travel in the winter, with skis on the front, and six wheels with heavy chains on the back. This one was replaced by a similar apparatus using a Chevrolet rumble seat sports car. In 1940, Bombardier Company, had developed a machine with four skis and a Ford engine at the back, with an aeroplane type propeller to push it along. Very successful it was also, especially on roads broken by horses and sleighs. It was not warm or comfortable, the brake was a loop of heavy chain to throw over the front ski, and it was not very good if the snow was wet. In the Spring, trips had to be planned to take place at night or early morning when the temperature was low enough to make a firm road.
Before the bridges were built across the rivers and lakes, ice roads were marked out as soon as it had frozen enough to walk on. Rows of evergreen branches were placed to warn the traveller not to stray off the road where the ice was known to be safe. During the Spring break-up, these roads would remain safe much longer than the rest of the ice. Many horses became wise about the safety of the ice, and would warn the driver and only proceed with urging and reassurance.
Dr. Stevenson, as he grew older, travelled with someone to help with the horses, or it there were problems. Much of the time this was his wife or one of his children. In the hungry 1930s, I always had a chore boy to accompany me, to look after the horses or the snowmobile; two of whom were Ernie Brown and Eusèbe Meunier from Farm Point.