THE DIGITAL RESEARCH LIBRARY OF ILLINOIS HISTORY JOURNAL™ PRESENTS
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Monday, January 16, 2017
Sunday, January 15, 2017
The Cholera Epidemic of 1832-33 in Illinois.
"Plague on the Prairie."
The cholera epidemic of 1832-33 and its impact on one Illinois town.
Thirty-eight-year-old Frances Ellis suffered but a few hours before succumbing to the dreaded disease that Jacksonville, Illinois, citizens prayed would spare their small town. The disease was cholera, and before the summer of 1833 was over, about 50 of Mrs. Ellis' friends and neighbors, plus her two young children and a niece, would die.
Mrs. Ellis' husband, the Reverend John Ellis, was traveling when his family died and did not find out about their deaths until he returned. Ellis, a Presbyterian minister and missionary, was one of the founders of Illinois College, located in Jacksonville. Mrs. Ellis was one of the leading women in Jacksonville at the time; she was a founder of a local women's social organization and a private school for young women. Mrs. Ellis school grew to become the Jacksonville Female Academy, one of the first schools for the higher education of women west of Ohio.
Illinois College Professor Jonathan Baldwin Turner described the deaths of the Ellis family members and the mood of the citizens of Jacksonville in a letter he wrote to his future wife, Rhodolphia Kibbe, in Connecticut, on August 28, 1833.
"Mrs. Ellis ... a lady of rare accomplishments, was taken sick one afternoon, and died before six o'clock. She had two little children; one was taken at one o'clock that same night, and died before morning; the other, and a niece, Miss Conn, a beautiful young girl of eighteen, died soon after. Mr. Ellis was away at the time, and when he returned he stopped at the church to attend prayer meeting before going to his home. As he entered the door he heard a friend praying for their 'stricken pastor so suddenly bereft of all his family.' He fell to the floor as if he had been struck by a butcher's ax. Immediately after this, forty-seven families, and as many single persons as could leave, fled."
Cholera was just one of the many diseases that pioneers such as the Ellis family had to battle in nineteenth-century America. Cholera, is a severe, epidemic disease spread when people swallow food or drink, usually water, contaminated with bacteria from a cholera patient or carrier. The disease causes profuse vomiting and diarrhea, which lead to rapid dehydration and, without treatment, death.
Cholera was probably the most terrifying of the diseases nineteenth-century Americans faced. It struck its victims without much warning. William McPheeters, a physician who treated patients during the 1849 St. Louis epidemic, wrote that the symptoms were "vomiting freely with frequent and copious discharges from the bowels; at first of slight bilious character, but it soon became pure 'rice water'; cramps in the stomach and lower extremeties and tongue cold; skin of a blue color and very much corrugated; urinary secretions suspended; eyes sunken and surrounded by a livid hue."
Some histories claim that India is where cholera, sometimes referred to as Asiatic cholera, first assumed epidemic form, in 1817. It is believed to have first arrived in America in 1832 and again in 1833, 1834, 1848, 1849, 1850, 1851, 1852, 1854, 1855, and 1873, when it made its final appearance in North America.
The 1833 Illinois outbreak actually began in the summer of 1832 when federal soldiers from the east were recruited to help fight the Black Hawk War. That spring the disease, carried by Irish immigrants, broke out in Quebec and slowly made its way to New York City. Troops passing through the northeast were infected and brought the disease with them as they traveled the Great Lakes corridor to Fort Dearborn (Chicago). By the time they arrived the Indian war was over but the pestilence proved a much more formidable and deadly foe.
Once in Illinois, the disease moved down the Mississippi Valley. The Illinois Patriot, Jacksonville weekly newspaper, reported on cholera attacks in several Illinois towns, including Quincy, Carrollton, and Galena, and attempted to allay the fears of local residents.
Following the deaths of Mrs. Ellis and her children on July 19 and 20, James G. Edwards, owner, editor and publisher of the Patriot, tried to calm his readers.
"Every requisite attention has been paid to the sick," Edwards wrote. "We hope our country friends will not place dependence on any exaggerated statements they may hear, concerning the ravages of the disease in this place, as the effects may be very injurious. Our accounts, thus far, may be depended on; and, should we be spared, we shall continue to give correct intelligence in regard to this subject."
The "intelligence" the Patriot had shared up to that point was that 10 people had died in Jacksonville in the previous three weeks. The first local cholera death, the Patriot reported, was a man named John Barber, a miller from the now extinct town of Middletown Mills near Exeter in Morgan (now Scott) County, who had been brought to Jacksonville.
Estimates vary greatly, but Edwards' published figures for Jacksonville's population and the number afflicted with cholera probably are the most reliable. On August 10, 1833, Edwards wrote that, according to Jacksonville physicians' estimates, from 200 to 300 people had contracted cholera in Jacksonville, out of a total population of 1,300. And of those 200 to 300 residents, 34 had died. Apparently many other residents, maybe as many as 600 or 700, fled Jacksonville to escape the cholera's grasp.
Two weeks later, the Patriot updated its list of cholera casualties and brought some encouraging news. "The Cholera - No new case of this disease has occurred in Jacksonville since our last publication. There have, indeed, been two deaths by Cholera, since last Saturday morning, but they were of some days standing. We have now every inducement to believe that this destroyer of human life has taken its flight, at least for a season, from this place." On August 24, 1833, the number of cholera victims in Jacksonville stood at 47.
Most histories of Jacksonville fixed the town's final toll from the disease at 55, but some accounts say as many as 100 people perished. The 1833 cholera outbreak also killed about 50 residents of Quincy and an estimated 33 people living in Carrollton, in nearby Greene County.
No official record of the number of cholera deaths in Illinois is known to exist. Death records were not required by law until much later in the nineteenth century, and newspapers rarely ran obituaries in those days.
Fortunately, Jacksonville and Morgan County histories recorded the efforts of two Jacksonville citizens who risked their lives to come to the aid of stricken neighbors, and also helped to bury those people they could not save.
Cabinetmakers John Henry and James Anderson both helped nurse the sick and prepared the dead for burial. Henry later wrote: "I was in every house where there was a death. I took fifty-three myself to burying ground and had them buried in a plain, raised lid cherry coffin."
Anderson added: "When a person died the measure of the body was sent us and we made the coffin out of cherry wood and lined it with domestic, but it was very seldom that any attempt at any ornamentation was made."
Henry and Anderson became revered citizens for their valiant efforts during the crisis. By their actions, they showed they had a strong sense of community responsibility and selflessness. Henry's leadership abilities carried him to service in the Illinois House of Representatives, the Illinois Senate, and to Congress. Anderson remained in Jacksonville, and continued to serve the community as a highly skilled cabinetmaker and undertaker until his death at age 88 in 1899.
The kindness shown by Henry and Anderson are even more remarkable when compared to the cholera account penned by Truman Post, another Illinois College professor at the time.
"The distress of the town was extreme. Society was not then knit together by acquaintance and mutual kindness. The people, gathered from all quarters, had not coalescence enough for mutual helpfulness. The wild, vague terror of a disease, regarded as contagious and killing with fearful rapidity, kept men aloof from each other. Families were isolated in mutual quarantine, and doors and windows were seen by one passing along the streets, thronged with pale and tearful faces, sometimes with the sick, who had no one to minister a cup of cold water ... Human society almost disintegrated by mutual fear ..."
Perhaps the most vivid contemporary account of the Jacksonville cholera epidemic was recorded by Professor Turner, who had come to Illinois College just a few months earlier to teach Latin and Greek.
Writing to Miss Kibbe on August 28, 1833, Professor Turner described the grief-stricken community. "From this time the daily yea, the hourly report, was 'He is sick,' 'He is dead,' 'He is buried,'" Turner wrote. "To meet a man at night and attend his funeral in the morning has ceased to alarm, much less to surprise. Some die in three hours, seldom do they live twelve, and very rarely twenty-four. As I have walked through the streets in the evening, I have seen through the windows and doors the sick and the dying, sometimes four or five in the same room in a log hut, some on the bed, others on the floor, and perhaps one or two sorrow-smitten beings crawling from bed to bed to give a cup of water or to brush away the flies. On every face was written 'Woe,' and on every doorpost 'Death,' and on not a few 'Utter desolation.'...For some weeks not a soul was seen approaching from the country, except here and there a man on a horse upon the full run for The doctor! The doctor! For Heaven's sake, sir, can't you tell me where is the doctor? My father is dying, my wife is dead, and my children are dying.' ...All this came to be answered at last by a stupid stare, or a shake of the head, or perchance, 'They are all sick.' For, at one time, out of eight or ten doctors not one could be had.'
A healthy doctor probably couldn't have helped anyway. The medical world in 1833 had little idea what caused cholera and therefore wasn't quite sure how to treat it.
One physician who studied the Jacksonville epidemic was Dr. Anson G. Henry of Springfield, and he put forth some unusual theories about how the disease was spread. He visited Jacksonville in August 1833 and wrote back to the Sangamo Journal, the weekly newspaper in Springfield, that he was "satisfied that moral causes (had) more to do in spreading cholera than physical (causes). Dr. Henry also criticized the people who ran from the disease, writing that "those who have been constantly exposed to its influence by their acts of humanity, have almost invariably escaped."
In a rebuttal sent to the Journal, an unknown Jacksonville resident challenged Dr. Henry's claim that the moral climate of Jacksonville spread the disease. The person acknowledged that while psychological factors could cause some diseases, only physical factors were at work in Jacksonville. "The timid and the bold, the temperate and the intemperate, the moral and the vicious none, can claim exemption from this liability."
Some people, including many doctors, believed at the time that cholera somehow originated from the decomposition of animals or vegetables and was transmitted through the air.
To prevent the disease, doctors recommended that decaying food be removed and that lime be thrown into privy pits and sewers once or twice a week.
Among the "medicines" doctors prescribed for treating cholera were calomel pills, a powder used for intestinal worms; laudanum, a solution of opium in alcohol; powdered rhubarb; hot tea of sage, balm or thorough-wort; brandy in warm water; and teaspoonful of pulverized charcoal mixed with brandy.
Professor Turner, in fact, wrote that he administered laudanum, tincture of red pepper in alcohol, and brandy to a very sick Illinois College student. The young professor said that he doubled and even quadrupled the doses he gave the student. "I will either kill or cure him at once," wrote Turner, who eventually cured the student of his cholera ailments.
One of the nearly five dozen Jacksonville residents who couldn't be saved was a seven-year-old boy named Alexander Carson, the son of Thomas and Catharine Carson and the first male child born in Jacksonville.
The Jacksonville cholera epidemic of 1833 lasted more than eight weeks, but its tragic consequences, according to historian Don H. Doyle, left a long-lasting mark on the community, leaving it with a reputation for being "sickly" and possibly costing it a chance at landing the state capital.
Further Reading: Cholera Cemetery, also known as the Lake and Wabash Burial Site in Chicago. (1832)
Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.
The cholera epidemic of 1832-33 and its impact on one Illinois town.
Thirty-eight-year-old Frances Ellis suffered but a few hours before succumbing to the dreaded disease that Jacksonville, Illinois, citizens prayed would spare their small town. The disease was cholera, and before the summer of 1833 was over, about 50 of Mrs. Ellis' friends and neighbors, plus her two young children and a niece, would die.
Illinois College Professor Jonathan Baldwin Turner described the deaths of the Ellis family members and the mood of the citizens of Jacksonville in a letter he wrote to his future wife, Rhodolphia Kibbe, in Connecticut, on August 28, 1833.
"Mrs. Ellis ... a lady of rare accomplishments, was taken sick one afternoon, and died before six o'clock. She had two little children; one was taken at one o'clock that same night, and died before morning; the other, and a niece, Miss Conn, a beautiful young girl of eighteen, died soon after. Mr. Ellis was away at the time, and when he returned he stopped at the church to attend prayer meeting before going to his home. As he entered the door he heard a friend praying for their 'stricken pastor so suddenly bereft of all his family.' He fell to the floor as if he had been struck by a butcher's ax. Immediately after this, forty-seven families, and as many single persons as could leave, fled."
Cholera was just one of the many diseases that pioneers such as the Ellis family had to battle in nineteenth-century America. Cholera, is a severe, epidemic disease spread when people swallow food or drink, usually water, contaminated with bacteria from a cholera patient or carrier. The disease causes profuse vomiting and diarrhea, which lead to rapid dehydration and, without treatment, death.
Cholera was probably the most terrifying of the diseases nineteenth-century Americans faced. It struck its victims without much warning. William McPheeters, a physician who treated patients during the 1849 St. Louis epidemic, wrote that the symptoms were "vomiting freely with frequent and copious discharges from the bowels; at first of slight bilious character, but it soon became pure 'rice water'; cramps in the stomach and lower extremeties and tongue cold; skin of a blue color and very much corrugated; urinary secretions suspended; eyes sunken and surrounded by a livid hue."
Some histories claim that India is where cholera, sometimes referred to as Asiatic cholera, first assumed epidemic form, in 1817. It is believed to have first arrived in America in 1832 and again in 1833, 1834, 1848, 1849, 1850, 1851, 1852, 1854, 1855, and 1873, when it made its final appearance in North America.
The 1833 Illinois outbreak actually began in the summer of 1832 when federal soldiers from the east were recruited to help fight the Black Hawk War. That spring the disease, carried by Irish immigrants, broke out in Quebec and slowly made its way to New York City. Troops passing through the northeast were infected and brought the disease with them as they traveled the Great Lakes corridor to Fort Dearborn (Chicago). By the time they arrived the Indian war was over but the pestilence proved a much more formidable and deadly foe.
Once in Illinois, the disease moved down the Mississippi Valley. The Illinois Patriot, Jacksonville weekly newspaper, reported on cholera attacks in several Illinois towns, including Quincy, Carrollton, and Galena, and attempted to allay the fears of local residents.
Following the deaths of Mrs. Ellis and her children on July 19 and 20, James G. Edwards, owner, editor and publisher of the Patriot, tried to calm his readers.
"Every requisite attention has been paid to the sick," Edwards wrote. "We hope our country friends will not place dependence on any exaggerated statements they may hear, concerning the ravages of the disease in this place, as the effects may be very injurious. Our accounts, thus far, may be depended on; and, should we be spared, we shall continue to give correct intelligence in regard to this subject."
The "intelligence" the Patriot had shared up to that point was that 10 people had died in Jacksonville in the previous three weeks. The first local cholera death, the Patriot reported, was a man named John Barber, a miller from the now extinct town of Middletown Mills near Exeter in Morgan (now Scott) County, who had been brought to Jacksonville.
Estimates vary greatly, but Edwards' published figures for Jacksonville's population and the number afflicted with cholera probably are the most reliable. On August 10, 1833, Edwards wrote that, according to Jacksonville physicians' estimates, from 200 to 300 people had contracted cholera in Jacksonville, out of a total population of 1,300. And of those 200 to 300 residents, 34 had died. Apparently many other residents, maybe as many as 600 or 700, fled Jacksonville to escape the cholera's grasp.
Two weeks later, the Patriot updated its list of cholera casualties and brought some encouraging news. "The Cholera - No new case of this disease has occurred in Jacksonville since our last publication. There have, indeed, been two deaths by Cholera, since last Saturday morning, but they were of some days standing. We have now every inducement to believe that this destroyer of human life has taken its flight, at least for a season, from this place." On August 24, 1833, the number of cholera victims in Jacksonville stood at 47.
Most histories of Jacksonville fixed the town's final toll from the disease at 55, but some accounts say as many as 100 people perished. The 1833 cholera outbreak also killed about 50 residents of Quincy and an estimated 33 people living in Carrollton, in nearby Greene County.
No official record of the number of cholera deaths in Illinois is known to exist. Death records were not required by law until much later in the nineteenth century, and newspapers rarely ran obituaries in those days.
Fortunately, Jacksonville and Morgan County histories recorded the efforts of two Jacksonville citizens who risked their lives to come to the aid of stricken neighbors, and also helped to bury those people they could not save.
Cabinetmakers John Henry and James Anderson both helped nurse the sick and prepared the dead for burial. Henry later wrote: "I was in every house where there was a death. I took fifty-three myself to burying ground and had them buried in a plain, raised lid cherry coffin."
Anderson added: "When a person died the measure of the body was sent us and we made the coffin out of cherry wood and lined it with domestic, but it was very seldom that any attempt at any ornamentation was made."
Henry and Anderson became revered citizens for their valiant efforts during the crisis. By their actions, they showed they had a strong sense of community responsibility and selflessness. Henry's leadership abilities carried him to service in the Illinois House of Representatives, the Illinois Senate, and to Congress. Anderson remained in Jacksonville, and continued to serve the community as a highly skilled cabinetmaker and undertaker until his death at age 88 in 1899.
The kindness shown by Henry and Anderson are even more remarkable when compared to the cholera account penned by Truman Post, another Illinois College professor at the time.
"The distress of the town was extreme. Society was not then knit together by acquaintance and mutual kindness. The people, gathered from all quarters, had not coalescence enough for mutual helpfulness. The wild, vague terror of a disease, regarded as contagious and killing with fearful rapidity, kept men aloof from each other. Families were isolated in mutual quarantine, and doors and windows were seen by one passing along the streets, thronged with pale and tearful faces, sometimes with the sick, who had no one to minister a cup of cold water ... Human society almost disintegrated by mutual fear ..."
Perhaps the most vivid contemporary account of the Jacksonville cholera epidemic was recorded by Professor Turner, who had come to Illinois College just a few months earlier to teach Latin and Greek.
Writing to Miss Kibbe on August 28, 1833, Professor Turner described the grief-stricken community. "From this time the daily yea, the hourly report, was 'He is sick,' 'He is dead,' 'He is buried,'" Turner wrote. "To meet a man at night and attend his funeral in the morning has ceased to alarm, much less to surprise. Some die in three hours, seldom do they live twelve, and very rarely twenty-four. As I have walked through the streets in the evening, I have seen through the windows and doors the sick and the dying, sometimes four or five in the same room in a log hut, some on the bed, others on the floor, and perhaps one or two sorrow-smitten beings crawling from bed to bed to give a cup of water or to brush away the flies. On every face was written 'Woe,' and on every doorpost 'Death,' and on not a few 'Utter desolation.'...For some weeks not a soul was seen approaching from the country, except here and there a man on a horse upon the full run for The doctor! The doctor! For Heaven's sake, sir, can't you tell me where is the doctor? My father is dying, my wife is dead, and my children are dying.' ...All this came to be answered at last by a stupid stare, or a shake of the head, or perchance, 'They are all sick.' For, at one time, out of eight or ten doctors not one could be had.'
A healthy doctor probably couldn't have helped anyway. The medical world in 1833 had little idea what caused cholera and therefore wasn't quite sure how to treat it.
One physician who studied the Jacksonville epidemic was Dr. Anson G. Henry of Springfield, and he put forth some unusual theories about how the disease was spread. He visited Jacksonville in August 1833 and wrote back to the Sangamo Journal, the weekly newspaper in Springfield, that he was "satisfied that moral causes (had) more to do in spreading cholera than physical (causes). Dr. Henry also criticized the people who ran from the disease, writing that "those who have been constantly exposed to its influence by their acts of humanity, have almost invariably escaped."
In a rebuttal sent to the Journal, an unknown Jacksonville resident challenged Dr. Henry's claim that the moral climate of Jacksonville spread the disease. The person acknowledged that while psychological factors could cause some diseases, only physical factors were at work in Jacksonville. "The timid and the bold, the temperate and the intemperate, the moral and the vicious none, can claim exemption from this liability."
Some people, including many doctors, believed at the time that cholera somehow originated from the decomposition of animals or vegetables and was transmitted through the air.
To prevent the disease, doctors recommended that decaying food be removed and that lime be thrown into privy pits and sewers once or twice a week.
Among the "medicines" doctors prescribed for treating cholera were calomel pills, a powder used for intestinal worms; laudanum, a solution of opium in alcohol; powdered rhubarb; hot tea of sage, balm or thorough-wort; brandy in warm water; and teaspoonful of pulverized charcoal mixed with brandy.
Professor Turner, in fact, wrote that he administered laudanum, tincture of red pepper in alcohol, and brandy to a very sick Illinois College student. The young professor said that he doubled and even quadrupled the doses he gave the student. "I will either kill or cure him at once," wrote Turner, who eventually cured the student of his cholera ailments.
One of the nearly five dozen Jacksonville residents who couldn't be saved was a seven-year-old boy named Alexander Carson, the son of Thomas and Catharine Carson and the first male child born in Jacksonville.
The Jacksonville cholera epidemic of 1833 lasted more than eight weeks, but its tragic consequences, according to historian Don H. Doyle, left a long-lasting mark on the community, leaving it with a reputation for being "sickly" and possibly costing it a chance at landing the state capital.
Further Reading: Cholera Cemetery, also known as the Lake and Wabash Burial Site in Chicago. (1832)
Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.
Lyon and Healy Factory, Chicago, Illinois.
Lyon and Healy is a musical instrument manufacturer that still operates in Chicago. Formed in 1864, Lyon and Healy opened a factory at Randolph and Ogden in 1890 that is still operating.
Known for their harps, they have also, at times, made guitars, banjos, pianos, and other musical instruments. In 1913, the factory depicted on the postcard was opened (designed by Hyland and Green). Located on Fullerton just west of Pulaski (then Crawford), along the Milwaukee Road line, the factory included a station along the railroad named after the complex; the station is still called Healy today.
The Lyon and Healy factory on Fullerton did not remain in operation for long; by the 1930s, it was home to the Mills Novelty Company, a noted coin-operated machine manufacturer. The usual model of industrial deconcentration would suggest that the company would have closed its original factory on the Near West Side and made the Fullerton location their main operation. In actuality, the Fullerton operation did not last twenty years, and the firm’s 100+ year old Near West Side factory at 168 North Ogden Avenue in Chicago still remains in operation.
Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.
The Lyon and Healy factory on Fullerton did not remain in operation for long; by the 1930s, it was home to the Mills Novelty Company, a noted coin-operated machine manufacturer. The usual model of industrial deconcentration would suggest that the company would have closed its original factory on the Near West Side and made the Fullerton location their main operation. In actuality, the Fullerton operation did not last twenty years, and the firm’s 100+ year old Near West Side factory at 168 North Ogden Avenue in Chicago still remains in operation.
Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.
Saturday, January 14, 2017
Josephine Garis Cochrane [Cochran] (1839-1913). Inventor of the Dishwasher.
Josephine Cochrane believed that if you want something done right, you better do it yourself. But when it came time to do the dishes, she didn't want to, so she invented a machine to wash them for her. A man had made an attempt before her, but it didn't work and never got off the ground.
Josephine Garis was born on March 8, 1839. Her early childhood is unknown. After her mother, Irene Fitch, died and her sister moved out, she lived with her father, John Garis, in Ohio and Indiana. John Garis was an engineer from Chicago who invented a hydraulic pump for draining marshes. He worked as a supervisor in mills and as a hydraulic engineer, perhaps instilling an instinctive knack for the mechanical in Cochrane.
Her great-grandfather (not her grandfather, as some sources report) was John Fitch, who obtained a U.S. patent for a steamboat design in 1791 (note: this was not, as some sources report erroneously, the first patent for a steamboat design in the world, or America.)
She attended a private high school, but Garis sent his daughter to live with her sister in Shelbyville, Illinois, when it burned down.
After high school graduation, Cochrane's life took a traditional turn. At age 19, she married 27-year-old William Cochran. In 1857 after a disappointing four years of trying to strike it rich in the California Gold Rush, he returned home to Shelbyville. He made his mark and fortune in the dry goods business and other investment opportunities. Undoubtedly, the comfortable life he could offer his bride was one thing she was attracted to.
Despite her young age and the societal norm at the time, Cochrane was guided by her independent nature and personal confidence. She assumed her husband's name but preferred spelling it with an "e" at the end, a point of contention with his family.
The Cochranes had a busy social life, and in 1870 when they moved into what could be considered a mansion, they had the perfect house for entertaining. They threw dinner parties using heirloom china, allegedly dating from the 1600s. After one event, the servants washing up carelessly chipped some dishes. Cochrane discovered this the following day while she was putting the dishes away. She was furious and refused to let the servants handle the china anymore.
She may have regretted her decision, but she didn't give in. The morning after every subsequent dinner party, she begrudgingly endured dishpan hands, wondering why someone hadn't invented a machine that could clean dirty dishes. This was, after all, the late 19th century, and if someone could invent a machine to sew clothes and cut grass, how hard could it be?
One morning, she had an epiphany while she was up to her elbows in soap suds. Why not invent the dishwashing machine herself? Consumed with the idea, she immediately went into the library to think it through, forgetting she was holding a cup in her hand. Within half an hour, Cochrane had the basic concept for the first mechanical dishwasher. Just like she had been doing by hand, it held the dishes securely (in a rack) while the pressure of spraying water cleaned them off.
William Cochran was a rising star in the Democratic Party, but too much alcohol led to a violent temper and illness. While Cochrane was busy with the details of her invention, William went away for a rest. Unfortunately, he didn't get well and died two weeks later in 1883.
While the Cochrans appeared to be successful socialites to their friends, all was not well at home. Her husband left Cochrane with a mound of debt and only $1,535.59. Now, developing the dishwasher was not only for convenience. It was for survival.
Her creation had wire compartments for plates, cups and saucers. They were put inside a wheel that lay flat inside a copper boiler. A motor turned the wheel, pumping hot soapy water from the bottom of the boiler over the dishes. Cochrane showed her design to a few men for their input, which was a frustrating experience. "I couldn't get men to do the things I wanted in my way until they had tried and failed in their own," she said. "And that was costly for me. They knew I knew nothing, academically, about mechanics, and they insisted on having their own way with my invention until they convinced themselves my way was the better, no matter how I had arrived at it." Finally, she got help with the construction from mechanic George Butters.
She applied for a U.S. patent, which she received on December 28, 1886, obtaining U.S. Patent # 355139, the Garis-Cochran Dishwashing Machine.
An earlier, unsuccessful dishwashing machine had been patented, in 1850, by Joel Houghton. It was made of wood, hand-cranked, and just ineffectually splashed water on the dishes. Consequently, the introduction to her patent application reads that her machine is an improvement.
Cochrane's first customers were not the housewives she thought she was helping. They didn't want to spend the money on something they didn't need, so she turned to hotels. After selling a dishwashing machine to the Palmer House Hotel in Chicago, she had one recommendation. Then she did one of the hardest things she'd ever done: she made a cold call to the Sherman House hotel in Chicago, waiting in the ladies' parlor to speak with the manager. "You asked me what was the hardest part of getting into business," she once told a reporter. "…I think, crossing the great lobby of the Sherman House alone. You cannot imagine what it was like in those days … for a woman to cross a hotel lobby alone. I had never been anywhere without my husband or father—the lobby seemed a mile wide. I thought I should faint at every step, but I didn't—and I got an $800 order as my reward."
Josephine displayed and demonstrated the machine herself at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893, where it was exhibited in the Machinery Hall. The dishwasher was a hit and won the Augustus Saint-Gaudens Medallion, the same award for all contest winners in the top 20% of their category in scoring.
She also sold nine of them on the spot to people running kitchens at the Exposition for $150 each ($5,100 today).
Her next model was motorized; it pumped the water and moved the rack back and forth. She registered this one for an American patent in 1900. A subsequent model had the racks revolve and drain via a hose into the sink.
That success led to her opening her own factory in an abandoned schoolhouse. Her customers extended to hospitals and colleges for whom the sanitizing effects of the hot water rinse were significant. Homemakers finally started using it too.
In 1912, at 73 years old, Cochran was still personally selling her machines. She managed her company until she died of a stroke in Chicago on August 3, 1913. She was buried in Graceland Cemetery in Shelbyville, Illinois.
In 1916, her company was bought out by Hobart, which became KitchenAid and is now Whirlpool Corporation. Cochrane is considered the founder.
Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.
Josephine Garis was born on March 8, 1839. Her early childhood is unknown. After her mother, Irene Fitch, died and her sister moved out, she lived with her father, John Garis, in Ohio and Indiana. John Garis was an engineer from Chicago who invented a hydraulic pump for draining marshes. He worked as a supervisor in mills and as a hydraulic engineer, perhaps instilling an instinctive knack for the mechanical in Cochrane.
Her great-grandfather (not her grandfather, as some sources report) was John Fitch, who obtained a U.S. patent for a steamboat design in 1791 (note: this was not, as some sources report erroneously, the first patent for a steamboat design in the world, or America.)
She attended a private high school, but Garis sent his daughter to live with her sister in Shelbyville, Illinois, when it burned down.
After high school graduation, Cochrane's life took a traditional turn. At age 19, she married 27-year-old William Cochran. In 1857 after a disappointing four years of trying to strike it rich in the California Gold Rush, he returned home to Shelbyville. He made his mark and fortune in the dry goods business and other investment opportunities. Undoubtedly, the comfortable life he could offer his bride was one thing she was attracted to.
Despite her young age and the societal norm at the time, Cochrane was guided by her independent nature and personal confidence. She assumed her husband's name but preferred spelling it with an "e" at the end, a point of contention with his family.
The Cochranes had a busy social life, and in 1870 when they moved into what could be considered a mansion, they had the perfect house for entertaining. They threw dinner parties using heirloom china, allegedly dating from the 1600s. After one event, the servants washing up carelessly chipped some dishes. Cochrane discovered this the following day while she was putting the dishes away. She was furious and refused to let the servants handle the china anymore.
She may have regretted her decision, but she didn't give in. The morning after every subsequent dinner party, she begrudgingly endured dishpan hands, wondering why someone hadn't invented a machine that could clean dirty dishes. This was, after all, the late 19th century, and if someone could invent a machine to sew clothes and cut grass, how hard could it be?
William Cochran was a rising star in the Democratic Party, but too much alcohol led to a violent temper and illness. While Cochrane was busy with the details of her invention, William went away for a rest. Unfortunately, he didn't get well and died two weeks later in 1883.
While the Cochrans appeared to be successful socialites to their friends, all was not well at home. Her husband left Cochrane with a mound of debt and only $1,535.59. Now, developing the dishwasher was not only for convenience. It was for survival.
She applied for a U.S. patent, which she received on December 28, 1886, obtaining U.S. Patent # 355139, the Garis-Cochran Dishwashing Machine.
An earlier, unsuccessful dishwashing machine had been patented, in 1850, by Joel Houghton. It was made of wood, hand-cranked, and just ineffectually splashed water on the dishes. Consequently, the introduction to her patent application reads that her machine is an improvement.
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| A drawing of Joel Houghton's 1850 patented dishwashing machine. |
Josephine displayed and demonstrated the machine herself at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893, where it was exhibited in the Machinery Hall. The dishwasher was a hit and won the Augustus Saint-Gaudens Medallion, the same award for all contest winners in the top 20% of their category in scoring.
Her next model was motorized; it pumped the water and moved the rack back and forth. She registered this one for an American patent in 1900. A subsequent model had the racks revolve and drain via a hose into the sink.
In 1912, at 73 years old, Cochran was still personally selling her machines. She managed her company until she died of a stroke in Chicago on August 3, 1913. She was buried in Graceland Cemetery in Shelbyville, Illinois.
In 1916, her company was bought out by Hobart, which became KitchenAid and is now Whirlpool Corporation. Cochrane is considered the founder.
Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.
The One and ONLY Prize Awarded for Contests at the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago, Illinois.
The 1893 World's Columbian Exposition (aka: Chicago World's Fair) official contest winners medallion in fine condition. (see complete history below.) Officially awarded in Bronze ONLY and measures: Diameter: 3" (76mm) - Thickness: 0.2" (5.5mm) - Weight: 7.2 ounces (205 grams).
The 1893 World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago was a commemoration of the Four Hundredth Anniversary of Christopher Columbus' landing in the New World in 1892.
THE FRONT (obverse) designed by Augustus Saint-Gaudens reads:
Christopher Columbus
Oct. XII, MDCCCXCII (1892)
Artist Signature: Augustus Saint-Gaudens Fecit
In the background are portions of a ship, an unfurled banner, and three male figures. In the upper right, in the distance, is a symbolic device of ships passing the Pillars of Hercules and the text inscription.
THE BACK (reverse) designed by Charles F. Baber (Mint Engraver) Reads:
World's Columbian Exposition in Commemoration of the Four Hundredth Anniversary of the Landing of Columbus. MDCCCXCII (1892) - MDCCCXCIII (1893)
Artist Signature: C. E. Barber Fecit
The medallions were struck by the Scovill Manufacturing Company, Waterbury, Connecticut.
MINTAGE: 400-600 known (References: Eglit 90; Baxter 87; Marqusee 348; Jaeger & Brown 64/53; Tolles p.135; and Weiss BW549.)
1893 WORLD’S FAIR CONTEST AWARDS HISTORY
The 1893 World’s Fair organizers decided to judge the contest prizes a little differently. Instead of competing directly against each other, the exhibitors, in all categories, were judged against a list of criteria that represented a standard of excellence for that category.
For example, the beer exhibitions. The judges were instructed to score each brew on purity, color, and flavor and assign a score between 0 and 100. All beers that scored an 80 or higher would be awarded a bronze Augustus Saint-Gaudens medallion and a parchment certificate. Things didn’t exactly work out that way once the exposition opened. The beer judges decided to come up with their own scoring system with ranked prizes awarded based on numerical scores in categories of their own creation. The brewers were left to assume that whoever ended the fair with the highest score “won”, never mind that there was, officially, no grand prize and that each medal was bronze and were identically the same as all the other prize medallions given out.
“Awards are designed to indicate some independent and essential excellence in the article exhibited, and as an evidence of advancement in the state of the art represented by it. They will be granted, upon specific points of excellence or advancement, formulated in words by a Board of Judges or Examiners, who will be competent experts; and the evidence of such awards will be parchment certificates, accompanied by bronze medals. Such awards will constitute an enduring, historical record of development and progress, and at the same time afford exhibitors lasting mementoes of their success.”
SOURCE: ”After Four Centuries the World's Fair. The Discovery of America to be commemorated by an International Exposition. Chicago, ILL., U.S.A. 1893” – Published by: Department of Publicity and Promotion. World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago 1891.
The art world supported him against the committee action, but to no avail. Saint-Gaudens made a model that eliminated the figure altogether, retaining only the inscription. This last model was the one adopted by Mint engraver Charles F. Barber for the final design. Saint-Gaudens’ design of Columbus for the obverse, however, was retained. Louis Saint-Gaudens assisted his brother with this commission.
READ MORE
OVER 100 BOOKS AND DOCUMENTS ABOUT THE 1893 WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION IN MY DIGITAL RESEARCH LIBRARY OF ILLINOIS HISTORY®.
Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.
The 1893 World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago was a commemoration of the Four Hundredth Anniversary of Christopher Columbus' landing in the New World in 1892.
THE FRONT (obverse) designed by Augustus Saint-Gaudens reads:
Oct. XII, MDCCCXCII (1892)
Artist Signature: Augustus Saint-Gaudens Fecit
In the background are portions of a ship, an unfurled banner, and three male figures. In the upper right, in the distance, is a symbolic device of ships passing the Pillars of Hercules and the text inscription.
NOTE: The small hooded figure to the right of Columbus is believed to be the only known self-portrait of Augustus Saint-Gaudens.
THE BACK (reverse) designed by Charles F. Baber (Mint Engraver) Reads:
Artist Signature: C. E. Barber Fecit
The medallions were struck by the Scovill Manufacturing Company, Waterbury, Connecticut.
MINTAGE: 400-600 known (References: Eglit 90; Baxter 87; Marqusee 348; Jaeger & Brown 64/53; Tolles p.135; and Weiss BW549.)
1893 WORLD’S FAIR CONTEST AWARDS HISTORY
The 1893 World’s Fair organizers decided to judge the contest prizes a little differently. Instead of competing directly against each other, the exhibitors, in all categories, were judged against a list of criteria that represented a standard of excellence for that category.
For example, the beer exhibitions. The judges were instructed to score each brew on purity, color, and flavor and assign a score between 0 and 100. All beers that scored an 80 or higher would be awarded a bronze Augustus Saint-Gaudens medallion and a parchment certificate. Things didn’t exactly work out that way once the exposition opened. The beer judges decided to come up with their own scoring system with ranked prizes awarded based on numerical scores in categories of their own creation. The brewers were left to assume that whoever ended the fair with the highest score “won”, never mind that there was, officially, no grand prize and that each medal was bronze and were identically the same as all the other prize medallions given out.
“Awards are designed to indicate some independent and essential excellence in the article exhibited, and as an evidence of advancement in the state of the art represented by it. They will be granted, upon specific points of excellence or advancement, formulated in words by a Board of Judges or Examiners, who will be competent experts; and the evidence of such awards will be parchment certificates, accompanied by bronze medals. Such awards will constitute an enduring, historical record of development and progress, and at the same time afford exhibitors lasting mementoes of their success.”
SOURCE: ”After Four Centuries the World's Fair. The Discovery of America to be commemorated by an International Exposition. Chicago, ILL., U.S.A. 1893” – Published by: Department of Publicity and Promotion. World's Columbian Exposition, Chicago 1891.
THERE WERE NO GOLD, SILVER, OR ANY TYPE OF RIBBONS (BLUE OR OTHERWISE) OFFICIALLY GIVEN TO CONTESTANTS AT THE 1893 WORLD’S FAIR.Saint-Gaudens’ design for the reverse of this medal was not used, despite the sculptor’s eventual willingness to modify it. It was rejected by the United States Senate Quadro-Centennial Committee because the premature circulation of a photograph of the new design fostered criticism of the youth’s nudity. Saint-Gaudens attempted various modifications but ultimately refused to alter his design, and solicited public support for his cause.
The art world supported him against the committee action, but to no avail. Saint-Gaudens made a model that eliminated the figure altogether, retaining only the inscription. This last model was the one adopted by Mint engraver Charles F. Barber for the final design. Saint-Gaudens’ design of Columbus for the obverse, however, was retained. Louis Saint-Gaudens assisted his brother with this commission.
NOTE: As with all official WCE souvenirs, permission was given to companies to produce souvenir items for sale. This included official picture books, "so-called" half dollar souvenir coins, etc.
The W.B Conkley company was given permission to produce blue ribbons for the contestants that were awarded a bronze medallion and official certificate. The ribbons were to be made of silk with gold leaf lettering and gold fringe. Contestants were charged $2.50 for each ribbon.
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| NOT AN OFFICIAL AWARD AT THE 1893 WCE. |
OVER 100 BOOKS AND DOCUMENTS ABOUT THE 1893 WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION IN MY DIGITAL RESEARCH LIBRARY OF ILLINOIS HISTORY®.
Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D.
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