Just before the massacre of St. Bartholomew, the ancestors of Dr. Delamater fled from France to Holland. The family name was then De La Maitre. Being whole-souled protestants, they migrated with other Dutch families to the Province of New York, and settled on the banks of the Hudson, near Kingston. Their names are still visible on the ancient grave stones of that neighborhood. Like the Huguenots, of South Carolina, they were Calvinist, or puritans of the French school. They became allied by marriage to the Rogardus family of New York, and others partook of the blood of Anneke Jans, whose name has become famous in the New York courts. The investigation of this connexion and heirship, occupied the last years of Prof. Delamater's life. It was closed only about a month before his death. His coadjutor in this work, was the late Chancellor Walworth, of Saratoga, whose ancestors were also in the line of Anneke Jans.

Dr. Delamater was born in Columbia county, New York, near Chatham, on the State line of Massachusetts, April 18th, 1787. He died at East Cleveland, in March, 1867, having almost reached the extreme age of four score years.

The Huguenots like English Puritans, and the Scotch Irish, have made their mark in North America. John Delamater, while a boy, was destined to be a farmer, on the soil where he was born. He was transferred to the medical profession on account of an accident, which injured his ability for manual labor. His father removed to Schenectady, New York, where his son was put under the tuition of one of the self-denying clergymen of those times, whose salary did not meet the expenses of living. At the age of nineteen his medical education was finished and he commenced practice in his native town. From thence he moved to Florence, Montgomery county, N. Y. Then stopped a short time in Albany, N.Y., and in 1816, established himself at Sheffield, Massachusetts. There was a settlement of negroes in this ancient borough. Dr. Delamater was then, as ever since, an active philanthropist. He attended the negroes as physician, Sunday teacher, and preacher. They also drew money from his purse, which was never very well filled, and paid back very little, either of his fees or of their debts. After some years of assiduous labor on his colored charge, his views of the race underwent a radical change. Among the last utterances of his life he expressed the opinion, based upon his experience at Sheffield, that the negro is by nature unfit for citizenship. In the days of the Jeffersonian Republicans and Adams Federalists, Dr. Delamater was in full accord with the new and rising Democratic party. He left it during the administration of General Jackson, and since then was a thorough Whig and Republican. No one hated slavery more. He saw the remnants of it in his early practice over the line in Connecticut, but never recovered faith in the capacity of the colored man for self-government.

Returning to his medical career, in which for sixty years he led in the profession, it is briefly as follows: While practising in the valley of the Housatonic, he rode almost constantly on a racking horse, about sixteen hands high, and almost with the speed of the wind, and occasionally in a two wheeled vehicle, common in those days, called a chaise, or more often a "one horse shay." At such times one of his medical students rode beside him, and drove the horse.

Between calls along the road the Doctor read his works, especially those relating to cases in hand. This custom of keeping up with the new works and periodicals of the profession he never relaxed, even after old age and the most distressing physical infirmities prevented his practice. Neither was the old shay ever abandoned; our citizens remember it well, moving carefully along these streets, with its huge calash top and faithful horse. No storm of rain or snow prevented him from keeping an appointment while he was able to get in and out of his vehicle.

In 1823, Dr. Delamater was made Professer in the Medical Institute of Pittsfield, Berkshire county, Mass.; in 1827, at the Fairfield Medical School, Herkimer county, New York. He was at the same time giving lessons at Bowdoin College, Mass. While at Fairfield, he was invited to lecture in the Medical College of Ohio, where Kirtland, Drake and Mussey have occupied chairs. This resulted in an appointment as Professor in the Willoughby University, Lake county, Ohio, at that time a flourishing institution. In 1842, he became one of the Faculty of the Western Reserve Medical College, at Cleveland.

Almost every man has some prominent talent, though with many it is never developed. With Professor Delamater it was the ability to give prolonged, profound and perspicuous lectures. This was his special gift and as usual in such cases he was not a facile writer. It is said he delivered seventy courses of medical lectures. His memory was perfect and his reading embraced everything relating to his profession. A good lecturer requires not only a clear perception of his subject, but a lucid and fluent presentation of it. Dr. Delamater never wrote lectures. His memoranda were of the most meagre kind. They were frequently nothing more than a few hieroglyphics made on the margin of a newspaper drawn from his vest pocket as he mounted the desk. Every case he had ever treated and all its details appeared to be thoroughly fixed in his recollection. He sometimes wrote medical essays for publication, but with evident reluctance. In cases of malpractice Dr. Delamater was the especial dread of the attorney whose side he did not favor. His full, clear and logical statements made a deep and generally an irresistible impression upon the court and jury.

After he became unable to visit patients he was consulted with never ceasing confidence by physicians and by patients, especially those afflicted with chronic complaints.

His moral and religious qualities were as conspicuous as his mental ones. He carried the faculty of conscientiousness to a length which the most conscientious would regard as extreme. Against the poor his charges for professional service were merely nominal and were never pressed, and with the rich he was so moderate and easy that with a large practice he was barely able to maintain his family, which, like himself, were afflicted with prolonged constitutional diseases. His rare Christian virtues are described with fidelity and beauty in the farewell discourse of Rev. W. H. Goodrich, of the First Presbyterian Church, which, being in print, may be read and preserved by the numerous friends of the good old man.