CHAPTER XV
Marie’s contact with “transcendentalism” and the Know-Nothing movement—Meets Dr. Harriot K. Hunt, of Boston—Why Harriot and her sister began to study medicine in 1830—In 1847, Harriot applies to Harvard for permission to attend medical lectures and is refused—In 1850, she renews her application and receives permission—Harvard medical students send two petitions of protest to the faculty: one against admission of negro men students; one against admission of women students—The faculty requests Harriot to withdraw her application—Marie’s father opposes her study of medicine, denounces her leaving “woman’s sphere” and demands her return to New York or to Germany. (Twenty-five years of age: 1854-1855.)
Retracing these later steps for a moment, I wish to add that the years 1840 to 1860 form the period of what is now called the “transcendentalism of New England.” What has given rise to this mode of thinking and acting of the people has been explained by many an able writer. I, arriving in America in 1853, experienced the effect of this phase of spiritual life when it was on the wane; when phalansteries had been tried and had failed; when social reforms were discussed in all parts of the country by those who led the van from Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Cleveland.
Groups of reformers existed in the churches and schools as well as in political and social circles. Women, still timid and under the pressure of social propriety, hailed every one who dared to give expression to their wishes and longings for a sphere beyond that of domesticity.
The broader religious preaching of William Ellery Channing and of Theodore Parker encouraged many to join these men in their efforts, while transcendental thinking and reading had prepared their minds to accept any new theory of life and its aims, for the individual woman as well as for the whole sex.
The first impressions received from the few acquaintances I had, after arriving, were depressing in the highest degree; for I found that the life of the New World had not only confirmed my countrymen in their Old World prejudices but it had even a reactionary result upon their mode of thinking, leading them to ridicule the American ways and modes in social, religious and political forms of life.
The Know-Nothing party had just been established; and those immigrants who were exiled after the revolutionary efforts of the years following 1848, created a prejudice among themselves against the English-speaking people of New York, especially against all reformers, which included the Know-Nothings.
And, yet, it was through the accidental acquaintance of these Know-Nothings that I was introduced to the so-called reformers; and, strange to say, the family giving firm adherence to the Know-Nothing principles was of German birth, their parents having emigrated after the year 1830, when exiled following the student revolt.
This family opened the path to the first acquaintance to whom I could show my credentials, verified by letters from the American Secretary of Legation at Berlin, Theodore S. Fay.[2]
A new world seemed to appear before my eyes when I was first introduced to the different circles of reformers. It seemed to me then as if the whole social and religious life was undermined, and that a labyrinth of ways ran confusedly in all sorts of directions. All that education, habit and custom had nurtured in my perception of life seemed to crumble into pieces.
That negro slavery was still in full force I soon learned, and that women declared their incapability to speak freely and openly against it shocked me beyond comprehension. On the other hand, I was shocked that a Mrs. Wright and others had demanded the emancipation of women. That a Woman’s Rights Convention was held in New York State seemed to me so ridiculous that I found the expression in one of the New York papers, “The hens which want to crow,” quite appropriate.
However, I had tried to crow as hard as any of these women without realizing it, for I had been quite enthusiastic when I received the news that ways and means had been found through the efforts of Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell for me to enter the medical school of the Western Reserve College, at Cleveland. It was not a week after my arrival when through a visit from Dr. Harriot Kezia Hunt to the house of my hostess and protector, Mrs. Caroline M. Severance, I learned to my great astonishment that the “crowing hens” of Cleveland had taken me under their wings to shelter me and to promote my efforts.[6]
[As Marie became better acquainted with the “woman’s rights” question her logical mind was impressed by the arguments in favor of the movement, and she eventually accepted it and became associated with its ardent advocates, though never herself taking the position of a militant suffragist.]
A few details regarding Dr. Hunt will be of interest here. Harriot Kezia Hunt and her sister, Sarah Augusta, had their minds withdrawn from their profession of teaching and turned towards medicine, in 1830, by the prolonged illness of Sarah and her ineffective treatment by the regular medical profession. “After forty-one weeks of sickness and one hundred and six professional calls, my sister was roused to more thought on this subject. We talked it over together; she obtained some medical works; and finally, she came to the conclusion that her case was not understood.”
The sisters continued the study of medicine by themselves, and Harriot first thought of woman as a physician when, in 1833, Mrs. Mott and her husband, two irregular practitioners who had come to Boston from England, were called to see if they could in any way help Sarah. As Harriot writes: “... it did not occur to us that to die under regular practice, and with medical etiquette, was better than any other way.”
Sarah soon began to improve and Harriot then decided to become a physician, giving up her teaching so that she might have more time to study. Sarah’s new treatment eliminated the rather drastic use of drugs then prevalent in medical practice, and confined itself principally to attention to the somewhat neglected laws of hygiene, combined with cheering assurances of a cure. As her health became established, Sarah joined in the study, and in October, 1835, the two sisters formally began practice by advertising the fact in the daily papers. Sarah later married and became the mother of six children, gradually withdrawing from the practice which Harriot continued alone.
Harriot persevered in her studies while building up a very successful practice in Boston, and, in 1847, she applied to Harvard College for permission to attend medical lectures but was refused. In 1850, she renewed her application and this time she received the desired permission, five of the seven members of the Faculty voting in the affirmative.
Of the two men who voted in the negative (Drs. James Jackson and Jacob Bigelow), it was Dr. Jackson who had introduced into Boston the midwife, Mrs. Janet Alexander. “Thus,” comments Dr. Putnam-Jacobi, “it would seem that his objection was not to women but to educated women who might aspire to rank among regularly educated men physicians.”
But again Dr. Hunt’s hopes met disappointment for, as noted in a previous chapter, the men students sent to the Faculty two petitions of remonstrance—one against the admission of negro men students, and one against the admission of women students.
The Faculty referred these petitions to a committee of which Dr. Jacob Bigelow (one of the two members originally voting against Dr. Hunt’s admission) was chairman. This committee reported the following votes regarding the petition against women students (and this report was accepted):
Voted, that the Faculty are at all times anxious to promote the gratification and welfare of the members of the medical class so far as their duty and the great interests of medical education permit.
Voted, that the female student who had applied for liberty to attend the lectures having by advice of the Faculty withdrawn her petition, no further action on this subject is necessary.
In 1853, Dr. Hunt received the honorary degree of M.D. from the Female Medical College of Pennsylvania, in Philadelphia.
I found among those whom Mrs. Severance had interested in my behalf, kind and intelligent as well as sympathizing friends who were willing to assist me even financially in my studies. These good people, I saw well, pitied my benightedness concerning the emancipation of women, without trying to proselyte, but leaving me in good faith that I would work out my own salvation and see the righteousness of their demands for a larger sphere for women.
Another tie of sympathy soon became apparent, namely, the religious tendency which was prevailing in the Severance circle of acquaintances. Mr. and Mrs. Severance were the leading spirits of a small Universalist congregation who held their meetings in the only public hall which Cleveland then possessed. This assembly was inspired by Rev. A. D. Mayo who had recently been called by them. They were adverse to Calvinism as well as to Episcopalianism, yet they felt the want and need of some form of church union.
This congregation was the most heterogeneous imaginable. Most of the people were in a transition stage from the darkest orthodoxy to atheism, neither of these extremes satisfying their ideals. There were also reformers in other directions dissatisfied with all existing codes of religion and law who sought refuge in the companionship of malcontents. Thus, we had not only Unitarians and Universalists to meet, but also Spiritualists, Magnetists, Fourierists, Freelovers, Women’s Rights advocates, Abolitionists—in fact, followers of all kinds of isms then existing.
Every theory had its representatives and advocates when a couple of dozen men and women gathered in alternate houses, socially or for discussing problems in general. A woman medical student was a new element and was welcomed by all the factions. Fortunately, I could not speak the English language, so I belonged to the class of patient listeners. I thus received attention from all groups, learning a great deal of what was agitating the intelligent and thinking ones, and being befriended by many in the expectation of swelling their numbers by one more in support of their specific beliefs or theories.
However, as these people seemed to be the only group of human beings who were not afraid of female medical students, I decided to avail myself of the customary opportunity of calling on New Year’s Day, 1855, at the house of Mr. Mayo, Mrs. Severance having inspired me with the courage to do so. To my great surprise, after arriving there I found that I could speak English well enough to be understood.
[At a later date Mr. Mayo writes of this call:
Among my visitors at my home in Cleveland, at the New Year’s reception of 1855, was a young woman whose face I recognized as a bright presence in the Sunday congregations that waited on my ministry.
Despite her impossible Polish name and her picturesque pronunciation of the English language, she became at once the notable guest of the evening. Her cheerful voice, reinforced by her magnetic womanhood, sent every sentence to the right place and won our hearts.]
My roommate and fellow student, Mrs. Chadwick, refused to accompany me on this New Year’s call. Mr. Mayo was too liberal for her. Such is the inconsistency of human nature; she herself did not hesitate to don the robe of a reformer as medical student, yet she did not dare to speculate on new theories in the realm of thought.
Thus the new year began very promisingly, as it opened to me the chance of entering somewhat into social relations which to my nature were absolutely necessary in order to keep up my hopes and aspirations. Besides, this connection gave me the opportunity to observe the habits and customs of this new life, both in the intellectual and the domestic spheres, during the little time that I could spare from my studies.
In the autumn of 1854, after deciding to go to Cleveland to resume my medical studies, I wrote to my parents to tell them of my hopes and aims. These letters were not received with the same pleasure with which they had been written.
My father, who had encouraged me before my entrance upon a public career, was not only grieved by my return to my old mode of life but greatly opposed to it, and manifested this in the strongest words in the next letter that I received from him. My mother, on the contrary, who had not been at all enthusiastic in the beginning, was rather glad to receive the news.
As I had left many good friends among the physicians of Berlin, my letters were always circulated, after their arrival, by one of their number who stood high in the profession; and, though I did not receive my father’s approbation, he sent me several letters from strangers who approved my conduct, and who, after hearing my letters, had sent him congratulations upon my doings in America.
How he received the respect thus manifested to him, you can judge from a passage in one of his letters, which I will quote to you:
I am proud of you, my daughter; yet you give me more grief than any other of my children. If you were a young man, I could not find words in which to express my satisfaction and pride in respect to your acts; for I know that all you accomplish you owe to yourself: but you are a woman, a weak woman; and all that I can do for you now is to grieve and to weep. O my daughter! return from this unhappy path. Believe me, the temptation of living for humanity en masse, magnificent as it may appear in its aim, will lead you only to learn that all is vanity; while the ingratitude of the mass for whom you choose to work will be your compensation.
Letters of this sort poured upon me; and when my father learned that neither his reasoning nor his prayers could turn me from a work which I had begun with such enthusiasm, he began to threaten; telling me that I must not expect any pecuniary assistance from him; that I would contract debts in Cleveland which I should never be able to pay, and which would certainly undermine my prospects; with more of this sort.
My good father did not know that I had vowed to myself, on my arrival in America, that I would never ask his aid; and besides, he never imagined that I could go for five months with a single cent in my pocket. Oh, how small all these difficulties appeared to me, especially at a time when I began to speak English! I felt so rich that I never thought money could not be had whenever I wanted it in good earnest.
But with the closing of the term, which occurred early in March, the financial assistance in paying for my board ceased, and further provision had to be made for my support.
Shortly before this period, a letter was received from my father denouncing my leaving my sisters, my despising the sphere of woman, and my entering upon a field which so entirely belonged to men; he demanded my return to New York or to Germany and he utterly refused me any financial aid. After reading this letter to Mrs. Severance and asking her counsel, I retired to my room almost in despair.
That same evening, I attended a meeting which had been announced from all the pulpits and which was being held for the purpose of discussing how to aid the Cherokee Indians. Representatives of this tribe were sojourning in Cleveland on the way to Washington in order to see the Great White Father and to implore his help in their troubles.
During this meeting, I resolved to follow my father’s advice and give up man’s sphere, and offer myself as one of the missionaries to the Indians for which the leader pleaded as so necessary to civilize the squaws. Thus would I carry the working out of woman’s sphere to the wilderness of the Indian Territory. The next morning I told my decision to Mrs. Shepard, to my fellow students and to Mr. Mayo; and in the evening I began a letter to my sisters who were now well established, my sister Anna having married a very estimable young man whose parents were friends and neighbors of ours in Berlin.
If I had not been visited in the morning of the next day by Dr. Seelye, a friend of my fellow student, Miss Greene, and an hour later by Mrs. Severance, my fate as an Indian missionary would have been decided by the arrival of the afternoon hour appointed for the meeting of all those interested in the Indian troubles. However, these two friends not only dissuaded me from any such change, but promised to provide in some way or other, means for my continuing my studies.
Dr. Seelye insisted on my first writing to Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, showing me that I was under special obligation to her. The Indians had to leave before I received her reply. She was indignant at my proposition and requested me to return to New York immediately after my graduation the middle of the next March.