‘Angélique!’ replied M. Davenne.
Saturday, 22nd.—Oh, how happy I am at this moment, for Dubois has just left me, understanding for the first time the justice of my determination to obtain a full medical education, and obliged to confess that I was right in principle. I shall have my congé, and a hope of cliniques and study in the Eccentric hospitals. Heaven has answered that heart-cry of the other night.
Wednesday, 26th.—Off actually! I dressed for the first time. Bandaged and veiled; the carriage drove to the door, Anna guided me in. I made kind adieus, caught glimpses of stone walls in the cold dull light, and thus ended my Maternité life. I felt very weak, and laughed hysterically the whole evening.
The following letter, written at this time to an uncle, an officer in the British army, shows the important support which the mind can render the body in combating disease:—
Dear Uncle,—I thank you with all my heart for the kind sympathy you have expressed for me so warmly. Fate certainly gave me a strange and sudden blow, but now I am up again strong and hopeful, and eager for work, and I beg uncle to feel quite sure that a brave soldier’s niece will never disgrace the colours she fights under; but will be proud of the wounds gained in a great cause, and resolve more strongly than ever to ‘conquer or die.’ In truth, dear friends, the accident might have been so much worse that I am more disposed to rejoice than to complain. Even in its present state the eye is not a very striking disfigurement, and it will gradually become still less so. As to the more serious consideration—loss of vision—I still hope to recover that in time, and meanwhile the right eye grows daily stronger. I can write without difficulty, read a little, and hope soon to resume my usual employments. I certainly esteem myself very fortunate, and I still mean to be at no very distant day the first lady surgeon in the world.
I find from your letters that there is a possibility of your visiting Paris. I should rejoice in the prospect of meeting you, if my own stay were certain; but it is by no means so. I have already accomplished much in France, but I find it very difficult to proceed further; still, I cannot yet judge decidedly of my prospects. I have just received permission from Government to visit the hospitals, which is encouraging, and one opening may lead to others, so that I may still hope to meet you some day, unless you should grow frightened at the idea of my scalpel and lancet, and feel uncertain how far the ties of relationship may modify the experimental researches of the medical student!
Believe me, very truly,
Your niece,
Elizabeth Blackwell.
But the six months which followed my departure from the Maternité proved to be a time of great mental suffering, under which a strong physical constitution threatened to give way; for the condition of the affected organ entirely prevented that close application to professional study which was needed. Both anatomical and surgical work were out of the question; and even reading had to be laid aside. I followed a few lectures and some cliniques at the Hôtel-Dieu, by permission of M. Roux, and engaged a répétiteur, but this was quite inadequate to accomplish the end in view.
In June of 1850 a visit to the fine mountain air of Priessnitz’s famous establishment at Gräfenberg was resolved on, in the hope of regaining strength and power of study. Travelling rapidly through France, Germany, and Prussia, in five days I reached the famous water-cure region. On the journey a day had been spent in Berlin, where I had been struck by the arrogance of the Prussian officers, and the fear which was expressed by a friend with whom I talked freely in Kroll’s Garden lest conversation should be overheard!
Freiwaldau, at the foot of the Gräfenberg, was full of Kurgäste; but, being warned by a lady to whom I brought an introduction that it would be impossible for a lady to go alone to the Gräfenberg Hotel, for it ‘was full of gentlemen who went about in their shirt-sleeves,’ I was rather perplexed as to where to go. A home letter describes this curious experience:—