Dr. Daniel Collins

Williamsburgh Physician 1804-1857

John¹ Collins b. Eng Abt. 1616 s/o John came to NE about 1646

John ² Collins Abt 1640-12/10/1704 b. Boston, d. Guilford, CT

John ³ Collins1665-1/4/1751, m. (1) 1662 Mary Trowbridge

Danie ⁴ Collins 6/13/1701- , m. 6/15/1725 Lois Cornwall

Rev. Daniel ⁵ Collins 1/30/1738-8/26/1822 b. Guilford, CT, d. Lanesborough,

MA. grad. Yale 1760, ordained 4/17/1764 in Lanesboro, one of the old

Continental gentry who always dressed with queue and knee-buckles, and whose

manner was that of the courtly aristocrat.

i. Anna Collins 1781-1802

ii. Sarah Collins 12/6/1766-?, m. Rev, David Porter 1760-? Of Catskill, NY

iii. William Collins 1768-6/16/1820, m. 6/16/1795 Sarah Graves 1770-1835

of Guilford, CT

iv. Daniel Collins (1^st) 1775-1777

v. Anne Collins 1773-1777

vi. Infant Collins 1778-1778

vii. Dr. Daniel⁶ Collins 10/2/1780-11/6/1857 b. Lansborough, d. Wmsb. ae. 77

yrs, 1 mo. 4 d., of enteritis, b. Lanesborough, settled in Williamsburgh in

1804. Williamsburg’s physician for 53 years, unconventional but highly

respected, never married. He trained Dr. Thomas Meekins, his successor

as town doctor. Dr. Collins’ office was located where the Meekins Library

is now, and he is buried beside Dr. and Mrs. Thomas Meekins.

viii. Samuel L. Collins ?-?, in 1848 living with his family in Edinburg, Portage

Co, Ohio.

ix. Ruth Collins 8/6/1788-8/6/1854, b. & d. in Lanesborough unm.

¹Deming History— “Dr. Daniel Q. Collins passed most of his life in Williamsburg. He was

born in Lanesboro, October 2, 1780, was graduated from Williams College in 1800 and settled in

Williamsburg in 1804 for the practice of medicine. He was the son of Reverend Daniel Collins, a

Congregational minister of some note. The circumstances of his early years had a curious

influence on his later life. The minister’s house was considered a free hotel for missionaries,

colporteurs, and religious travellers of all descriptions, and to such an extent did they abuse the

hospitality of the doctor’s father that, to use his own words, they ‘kept the old gentleman poor’

and he wanted ‘nothing to do with a religion that would give countenance to any such sponging.’

But he very willingly paid his taxes for the support of the church in Williamsburg and when he

was no longer obliged by the law, he requested the privilege of paying the same amount he had

done before ‘because,’ he said, ‘it was a **** good thing.’ Think of anyone now asking to be

taxed! But that was Dr. Collins.

“As a physician he must be ranked as more than ordinary. He was especially eminent in

diagnosis. He seemed to locate the disease by intuition, and his judgments, though quickly

formed, were rarely at fault. He was a good botanist and in the treatment of his cases he

depended very largely on vegetable remedies. But his strong common sense was at the

foundation of his success in medicine, as well as in other things.

¹ A History of Williamsburg in Massachusetts, Compiled by Phyllis Baker Deming, 1946, pg. 101

“It is not easy to describe Dr. Collins, the man, as he really was. He was never married and

probably his living alone in his office for more than fifty years had a great deal to do with the

formation of his character. Though a most generous and kind-hearted man, he did not ‘wear his

heart upon his sleeve’ and he was regarded with a mild kind of awe, especially by children. He

was very moderate, and at the same time very quick in his motions and abrupt in his speech. He

made very little conversation. His sentences were short and crisp and to the point and he made

short work of any attempt at long talks by others.

Atributed to Dr. Thomas White Meekins

“Dr. Daniel Quartus Collins passed most of his life. He was born in Lanesboro, October 2,

1780, was graduated from Williams College in 1800 and settled in Williamsburg in 1804 for the

practice of medicine. He was the son of Reverend Daniel Collins, a Congregational minister of

some note. The circumstances of his early years had a curious influence on his later life. The

minister’s house was considered a free hotel for missionaries, colporteurs, and religious

travellers of all descriptions, and to such an extent did they abuse the hospitality of the doctor’s

father that, to use his own words, they ‘kept the old gentleman poor’ and he wanted ‘nothing to

do with a religion that would give countenance to any such sponging.’ But he very willingly paid

his taxes for the support of the church in Williamsburg and when he was no longer obliged by

the law, he requested the privilege of paying the same amount he had done before ‘because,’ he

said, ‘it was a ____ good thing.’ Think of anyone now asking to be taxed! But that was Dr.

Collins.

“As a physician he must be ranked as more than ordinary. He was especially eminent in

diagnosis. He seemed to locate the disease by intuition, and his judgments, though quickly

formed, were rarely at fault. He was a good botanist and in the treatment of his cases he

depended very largely on vegetable remedies. But his strong common sense was at the

foundation of his success in medicine, as well as in other things.

“It is not easy to describe Dr. Collins, the man, as he really was. He was never married and

probably his living alone in his office for more than fifty years had a great deal to do with the

formation of his character.² Though a most generous and kind-hearted man, he did not ‘wear his

heart upon his sleeve’ and he was regarded with a mild kind of awe, especially by children. He

was very moderate, and at the same time very quick in his motions and abrupt in his speech. He

made very little conversation. His sentences were short and crisp and to the point and he made

short work of any attempt at long talks by others. One patient began a long story of her ‘aches

and pains’ and was cut short with ‘Woman, leave off tea and coffee.’

“‘Why, doctor, I haven’t drank any for years.’

“‘____ it, go to drinking it, then.’

“For another, not noted for neatness, he prescribed as follows:

“‘Take some soap and towels and go down to the spring back of your house and use them.’

“‘That’s about the same as taking a bath, isn’t it, doctor?’

“‘It looks like it.’

“In visiting his patients, he always rode horseback. His tall, slightly stooping figure,

enveloped in a camlet cloak or cape overcoat, with well-filled saddle bags behind, jogging along

on his horse, was a picturesque sight. He never hurried, no matter how urgent the call. One day

his horse happened to shy at something and the doctor in his wrath began to ‘lay on the braid’

² Appearing in the Hampshire Gazette & Northampton Courier, January 29, 1861, “Dr. Collins was a boarder

in the Williams’ family (Williams House) for 30 years.

pretty vigorously. A friend driving by shouted, ‘Doctor, it don’t do your horse any good to lick

him that way.’

“‘Don’t care, ____ him, it does me good.’

“He was very active in politics, and probably controlled more votes than any man in

Williamsburg before or since his time. He was no speaker in the town meetings but he was on

hand early and late, distributing ballots and seeing that they were cast for his side, though he

never sought political preference for himself. He was a staunch Democrat, and greatly added to

his party’s growth in the town.

“The high esteem in which Dr. Collins was held, in spite of his non-attendance at church at a

time when everybody went to meeting’ was a strong testimonial to his worth as a man and a

citizen. There was no sham or humbug about him. What he said could be depended upon. He was

not a companionable or a lovable man and his manners were often forbidding, but old and young

knew that beneath the apparent roughness there beat the heart of an honest, true, and good man,

and they respected him accordingly. His peculiarities, and they were many, were never the

subject of ill-natured remarks but were rather set down to his credit. The only thing that savored

of disrespect and that was not intended, was the bestowal of the cognomen ‘Old Squint,’ owing

to the Butlerian cast of one eye.

“He had two amusements, buying lottery tickets and shooting. He continued the former

through life. He drew only one or two small prizes, but he liked the mild excitement of buying

the ticket and watching for the drawing. He was very fond of a gun and could always be found

with his rifle at the Thanksgiving ‘turkey shoots.’ The following shows an amusing contrast

between the doctor and a fellow townsman, ‘Master White,’ as he was called. The latter had a

violin shop and his fear of a gun and the doctor’s hatred of a fiddle were about equally matched.

Driving by the shop one day, the sound of the everlasting fiddle came to the doctor’s ears.

Reining up to the door he roared out, ‘White, what in the Old Harry are you always fiddling for;

if you want some fun, why don’t you take a gun and go into the woods?’ and drove on. The idea

of firing a gun would have made White’s hair stand on end.

“Dr. Collins saved his money and accumulated quite a property for those days. But he was no

miser, and was always generous to himself as well as others. In common with most of the

Democrats he hated the ‘niggers’ as he called them, and thought their native land the best place

for them. For the purpose of sending them there he left by will $9,000 to the Colonization

Society, which, however, had then become a mere name, and the money went to pay the officers’

salaries. A much better bequest was the same sum for the support of the schools in Williamsburg.

This fund has been carefully looked after and now amounts to about $15,000.

“Dr. Collins died in November, 1857, at the home of his lifelong friend, Dr. Thomas Meekins,

who probably knew the real man better than anyone in Williamsburg. Shortly before his death he

wrote the following inscription to be placed on his monument:

‘The brittle thread of life is broken,

The body lies in its kindred dust,

The spirit dwells with God.’

No unbeliever in a divine Creator could have written that.

“His character may be summed up in a few words. He possessed an individuality amounting

almost to eccentricity, was thoroughly honorable, exact in his dealings with men, generous, as

many a poor sufferer could testify, impatient of wrong and loving the right because it was

right.”³

³ Atributed to Dr. Thomas W. Meekins (1830-1897), understudy and life long friend of Dr. Collins.

Wilbur M. Purrington (1864-1926) also contributed some amusing anecdotes of this kindly

personage at the 150^th Town Celebration, which, with Mr. Purrington’s own wit, become too

amusing to omit.

“Dr. Daniel Collins, 1780-1857, was a man of considerable dignity, scrupulous in honesty. He

was noted for his grammatical speech as became a graduate of Williams College. Dr. Collins was

not a religious man, no, not exactly; in fact, he swore like a pirate, and John W. Belden, the

auctioneer, says that it was beautiful to hear him when he was riled a little, for then his profanity

took on a cultured New England flavor of originality which was fine indeed. It is curious to note

that in this year of grace, 1909, all those persons who remember him at all remember his

profanity. Thus do our peculiarities outlive our virtues. George Loomis recalls that at the age of

about eight or ten years he had the typhus fever and Dr. Collins was called to treat him. The

picture of Dr. Collins coming in to see him is still vivid in his mind. A great tall, dark man

entered, took a chair from the side of the room, and with it held to his back walked over to the

bed and sat down. Pushing back his spectacles, he said ‘G**, I guess the little cuss will die.’

“Dr. Collins used to ride horseback to make his calls and had his barn just below Carter’s

store. One day he rode up to the barn and dismounting, stopped to talk a moment with someone,

when Henry W. Hill, our town clerk, then a boy, passing, cocked up one ear to hear what was

said, and the old doctor snapped out, ‘Get along home, you little devil.’

“The doctor was much troubled by certain cronies who used to sit around in his office and

sample his spirits, so much so that he used to smear his corks with coal oil and bitter herbs, for

Washburn of Unquomonk and French from on top the hill beyond Dwight Clary’s place well

knew the way up the outside stairway to the office of the doctor in the building which was

removed to make way for the Meekins Library. Luther Loomis used to tell that at the birth of

Byron Loomis on Mountain Street his mother was so ill that the doctor stayed the biggest part of

a week and ate most of a pig they had killed for the winter’s supply. Mr. John Belcher tells of

applying to him for some cough medicine made largely of gin. The old doctor said, ‘I suppose

you want the gin in a separate bottle.’

“When he came to die, his will began, ‘In the name of God, Amen, I, Daniel Collins, being of

sound mind and memory, do give $12,000 to town of Williamsburg for the benefit of the

schools.’ And the income from this generous legacy spent year by year for our youth is a better

monument to Daniel Collins than the marble shaft which marks the spot in the cemetery on the

hill where lies his mortal dust.” - Dr.Thomas Meekins

Gere History— Appearing in the Gazette & Courier January 30, 1861

“Dr. DANIEL COLLINS, a son of Rev. Daniel Collins, a congregational clergyman of

Lanesboro, was born in that place, Oct. 2, 1780, graduated at Williams College in the class of

1800, and settled in Williamsburg in 1804, for the practice of medicine. For 40 years he was the

principal physician in the place and was constantly occupied in a large and laborious practice.

His business was not limited to this town, but a large share of it was done in the neighboring

counties. As a physician, Dr. Collins occupied a commanding position. He was very skillful in

the diagnosis of disease, and this was peculiarly his forte. He was a man of excellent judgment,

and in the practice of his profession always acted promptly and energetically, in accordance with

his own convictions. He was a man of liberal feelings, whose breast was always open to the

relief of suffering and want, and whose generosity, though unostentatious, knew no reserve. Dr.

Collins, in his younger days, had in charge a large number of young men, who were in the

pursuit of a classical or scientific education. At his death, in November, 1857, he bequeathed to

the town the sum of $12,000⁴, for the support of schools. He was never married, and left the

remainder of his property—about $1,200—to various benevolent societies.

Dr. Collins first occupied as an office the hall in the house of Abner Williams, afterward used

as a tavern, and now owned and occupied by Cornelius Tileston. He soon after took the office in

the second story of the store adjoining, and which he occupied until his death, a period of 45

years. Dr. Collins was an earnest and active politician; at first a Federalist, then joining and

leading the anti-Masonic party, and in his later years was an unflinching Democrat. The latter

party under his lead increased largely in point of numbers. He always refused political

distinction, and at one time when supported for the legislature, declined in favor of Dr. Meekins.

Some peculiarities further illustrative of his character may be of interest. In personal bearing

Dr. Collins was reserved and dignified; in form, tall and slim. His language was given with

scrupulous regard to grammatical accuracy. He seldom attended church—save in the early years

of his practice—but was always present at the funerals of his old friends and patrons.

In business affairs he was ever reliable. His word was regarded as good as his note. He paid

his indebtedness with remarkable punctuality and with strict regard to justice. It was a common

thing for him to pay more than was demanded of him. He would often say, in his emphatic tone,

“That isn’t enough—you can’t live so.” These generous qualities gave him great influence with

all classes, and over some minds he exercised almost complete sway. In the practice of his

profession the doctor always responded promptly to the call of his patients, and his singular

appearance as he rode along on horseback—always at a moderate rate, however urgent the

demand—will long be remembered. The first year of his settlement, he did about one-third of

the medical business of the town; the second year two-thirds, and in the third year Dr. Titus

withdrew for lack of patronage, and the entire business fell into his hands.

Soon after Dr. Collins came to Williamsburg and when his practice was quite small, he was

accosted by his early rival, Dr. Titus, who taunted him as follows—“Come, Dr. Collins, ride

around with me; I’ll get you into business.” It was not long before the tables were turned, and

the “young doctor” repaid his old friend; by addressing him in the same sarcastic language.

No man who ever lived in town was capable of using more severe and cutting sarcasm than

Dr. Collins; but underneath a rough and sometimes repulsive exterior beat a warm and generous

heart.

His funeral was attended by a large concourse, from the congregational church, on the

Sabbath afternoon following his decease. The Rev. Mr. Perkins, pastor, delivered an eloquent

discourse on the solemn occasion, from which we extract the following paragraph, which

appeared also in the Hampshire Gazette and Northampton Courier of Nov. 17th, 1857:--

“You now part with one who has been with you from his early manhood—for the period of

fifty years; one, as I judge, naturally of a noble nature, keen perceptions, kind feelings—however

affected by his single life, or unfavorably manifested in sudden expressions—still kind, as many

a house of sickness and heart of sorrow has testified; and as a loving, feeble, long bed-ridden

sister has often borne witness, in grateful acknowledgements for pecuniary aid. A man

independent in his purposes and judgments—far as the east from west from cringing

subserviency and fawning sycophancy; quick in thought and expression; able to see through men

at a glance—hence tossing them into the scales readily as a drug for weight, and out again as

unhesitatingly; of strictest integrity, that made him impatient of all unfairness, with a high sense

of honor that flashed and burned at wrong, no matter against whom committed, himself or a

stranger; a man with a high idea of what a man should be, and with feelings outraged by

⁴ Worth 2.24 million dollars in 2015 using the unskilled wage index.

immorality, which burst forth in language not justified; a man with traits nobler, if sharper, than

common.

You part not only with an old citizen, but with an old family physician. The full measure of

this, in the case of one who has been your physician more than half a century, no language can

express. In how many touching scenes has he shared? By how many tender sympathies been

connected with your families! His feet have pressed every inch of your streets. He made every

object a witness to his professional faithfulness, in season and out of season. All your homes

have been familiar with his steps. Your doors have gladly opened at his coming. Your families

have experienced his tender care and warm sympathies. To a great congregation now gone, he

has ministered. You do well to remember him kindly, and to bury his faults willingly.”

In the remainder of the discourse, the reverend gentleman touched very fairly and impartially

upon the religious opinions of the doctor.—Dr. Collins accumulated a handsome property as the

result of a long life of unremitting industry and economy. He was buried in the lot of Dr.

Meekins, near the entrance of the new cemetery, and a beautiful monument of the finest marble

marks his grave. It bears the following inscription:--

--“DANIEL COLLINS, M.D. Born in Lanesborough,

Oct. 2nd, 1780: located in Williamsburgh in 1804;

was the principal physician in the town for 40 years.

Died Nov. 6, 1857, aged 77 years. Punctuality,

activity, energy and fidelity in the discharge of his

duties, marked his character.

The brittle thread of life is broken,

The body lies in its kindred dust,

The spirit dwells with God.”--

Collected and edited by

Ralmon Jon Black

Williamsburg Historical Society