I wish I could mention all of the noble minds, pioneers of a new era in the broadening of thought. No specialism was represented, except perhaps that of Abolitionism and the Advancement of Women. Free scope of the intellect was admitted, and every one who promoted culture of mind and body was welcomed. Scores of able women sought instruction, demanding to know what was objectionable in woman’s aspirations.
These and other activities were evidences of the smoldering volcano which burst forth into active conflagration in the outbreak of the Civil War, in 1861, and which gave birth to a new type of Woman—as Minerva was said to have issued forth from the head of Zeus fully armed with weapons of force and intellect.
The names of Lucy Goddard, Abby May, Ednah D. Cheney, Sarah Shaw Russell and Anna Lowell should be engraved on plates of gold for remembrance by those who will come after, for they took a stand which made history in life, and especially in the life of women.
For, let it be understood, the impression of the great liberality of Boston society, which I had cherished and fostered as a belief, was not as well-founded as I thought, and upon closer acquaintance I was soon convinced that here also it required a great deal of courage to advocate a new era in woman’s sphere.
Although I found much less tendency to ridicule, to treat with contempt, or to prophesy failure than we had met in New York, yet the fear of losing social caste was strong here also. Declarations that the study of medicine would unsex girls or break down health and beauty prevailed throughout the community, and newspaper remarks were discouraging rather than otherwise.
In short, I had to go over the same ground as in New York, explaining the possibility of a woman physician’s being able to do precisely the same work as the average man physician. The only difference I found in the two cities was that in spite of doubt and prejudice against woman “leaving her sphere,” as it was called, intelligent men and women in Boston were ready to listen to and to discuss all possible chances.
The fact that this small medical college for women had now lived for nearly ten years induced the liberal-minded to go a step farther and to begin to employ women, especially in midwifery cases.
One of the graduates of this school was still practicing in Boston as midwife on July 1, 1889, she having by that time attended five thousand confinement cases. Although she was never sought by the well-paying portion of the Boston community, she held a very reputable position among her patients and among such of the profession as had business relations with her. Her name, Mrs. Hassenfuss, has been mentioned to me quite often by the best of men physicians. Therefore, honor to whom it belongs. This good, sensible woman, the mother of eleven children, has done her share in overcoming prejudice against women physicians.
Several other ladies who had graduated from this school tried to practice in Boston although as they told me with very little financial result. They were obliged during the first years after establishing themselves to seek practical experience among the poor, either as assistant to a friendly man physician or on their own responsibility. In either case, they appeared to the people’s minds more like well-trained nurses than physicians who assume an authority which creates confidence. Their position was by no means an enviable one, and only the self-assurance produced by the American education could hold them up socially.
Here it should be said that the graduates of this school labored under disadvantages produced by obscurities in the minds of those who controlled it.