In view of the facts above mentioned regarding the University of Salerno—the excellence of its work, its liberality and breadth of view, its attitude toward the higher education of women, and its preëminence for so many centuries as a school of medicine—is it surprising that it was, until comparatively recent times, considered "the mater et caput of medical authority in ethical matters," and that, so late as 1748, the Medical Faculty of Paris should address an official letter to the faculty of Salerno requesting its judgment regarding the rights of precedence as between physicians and surgeons? But what is surprising, and what, too, passes all understanding, is that the University of London, after being empowered by royal charter to do all things that could be done by any university, was legally advised that it could not grant degrees to women without a fresh charter, because no university had ever granted such degrees.[200]

While women were winning such laurels in Salerno in every department of the healing art, their sisters north of the Alps were not idle. As early as 1292 there were in Paris no less than eight women doctors—called miresses or mediciennes—whose names have come down to us, not to speak of those who practiced in other parts of France. There was also a certain number of women who devoted themselves to surgery and called by the old Latin authors of the time cyrurgiæ.

In Paris, however, conditions for studying and practicing medicine and surgery were far from being as favorable to women as they were in Salerno. As there were no schools open to them for the study of these branches, they had to depend entirely for such knowledge as they were able to acquire on the aid they could get from practicing doctors, the reading of medical books and their own experience. The consequence was that they were not at all so well equipped for their work as were the women who enjoyed all the exceptional advantages offered the students at Salerno. None of them was noted for scholarship, none of them was a writer of books, and only one of them—Jacobe Felicie, about whom more presently—rose above mediocrity.

The reason for the great difference between the conditions of the women doctors of Paris and those of Salerno is not far to seek. The Faculty of Medicine in Paris was, from the beginning of its existence, unalterably opposed to female medical practitioners. As early as 1220 it promulgated an edict prohibiting the practice of medicine by any one who did not belong to the faculty, and, according to its constitutions and by-laws, only unmarried men were eligible to membership.

For a long time the edict remained a dead letter. But eventually, as the faculty grew in power and influence, it was able to enforce the observance of its decrees. One of its first victims was Jacobe Felicie, just mentioned, who was hailed before court for practicing medicine in contravention of its edict issued many years before.

Jacobe Felicie was a woman of noble birth, and had won distinction by her success in the healing art. As the testimony at her trial revealed, she never treated the sick for the sake of gain. In nearly all cases the sick who had addressed themselves to her had been abandoned by their own physicians. All the witnesses who had been called testified that they had been cured by Jacobe Felicie, and all expressed their deepest gratitude to her for her care and devotion. But, in spite of all these facts, and in spite of the brilliant defence that this worthy woman made, she was condemned to pay a heavy fine—condemned because, as the indictment read, she had presumed to put her sickle into the harvest of others-falcem in messem mittere alienam—and this was a crime.[201] The faculty was a close corporation and insisted that its members should have a monopoly of all the honors and emoluments that were to accrue from the treatment of the sick and suffering. What a curious adumbration of similar proceedings within the memory of many still living!

The prosecution of Jacobe Felicie recalls that of Agnodice in Greece long ages before. And the plea urged for the necessity of a female physician—that many a woman would rather die than reveal the secrets of her infirmity to a man[202]—was the same as that offered by the women of Athens before the council of the Areopagus. It was the same agonizing cry that had been heard thousands of times before and which has been heard thousands of times since. Isabella of Castile was not the first of the long list of victims who, for lack of a doctor of their own sex, have been sacrificed through womanly modesty, and, more's the pity, she will not be the last.

Unfortunately for the women of France, the result of the prosecution of Mme. Felicie was the very reverse of that instituted against Agnodice; for the latter came off victorious, while the former was condemned and punished. So crushing was the blow dealt to women practitioners, outside of obstetrics, that they did not recover from its effects for more than five hundred years. For it was not until 1868 that the École de Medicine of Paris opened its doors to women, and it was not until nearly twenty years later that female physicians were able to enter the hospitals of the French capital as internes.[203]

Until quite recent years there is very little to be said of women physicians in England and Germany. Their practice, outside of that of certain herb doctors, was confined chiefly to midwifery. There was no provision made in either of these countries for the education of women in medicine and surgery, and such a thing as a college where they could receive instruction in the healing art was unknown. It is true that an ecclesiastical law of Edgar, King of England, permitted women as well as men to practice medicine, but this law was subsequently abolished by Henry V.[204]