1. That it is expedient that lecturers in this Medical School should be free to lecture to female as well as to male students.
2. That no restrictions be imposed on the lecturers as to the manner in which instruction is to be imparted to women.[87]
After the passing of this regulation, we applied to Dr Handyside to know if he could make arrangements for giving us a separate class. He replied that it would be quite impossible for him to do so consistently with his duty to his other students, but that if we liked to attend his course of Anatomy in the ordinary way, he should be happy to receive us. Dr Heron Watson similarly consented to admit us, to his ordinary course of Lectures on Surgery, and so our arrangements for winter lectures were complete.
The class of Practical Anatomy always meets at the beginning of October, although the lectures do not commence till the following month. The more studious and industrious students usually come up at the earlier date, but those who care less about their work seldom appear till November, as that is the beginning of the compulsory session. All through October we studied under Dr Handyside with great comfort; the students who worked with us, though in another part of the room, were never uncivil, and in fact we hardly exchanged a dozen sentences with any of them during the month. Dr Handyside and his demonstrator both told us that they had never seen so much steady, earnest work as since we joined the class, and expressed their opinion that the results were quite as valuable for the male students as for our ourselves. With November 1st the lectures began, and everything went on satisfactorily for another ten days.
About this time, acting on the advice of a medical friend, we made an application for permission to study in the wards of the Royal Infirmary, and, somewhat to our surprise, were met by a curt refusal. As we knew that several of the managers were liberal-minded and just men, we felt sure that they could not have fully understood the importance to us of the concession we desired, and, on enquiry, I found this was the case. One of those who had voted against our admission confessed to me that he had, in so doing, been guided simply by the medical members of the Board, and that he was not even aware that we were matriculated students of the University, and that we could not complete our education without attending the Infirmary, as there was no other hospital in Edinburgh of the size prescribed for “qualifying instruction.” We, therefore, drew up a memorial stating our grounds of application, and another was also sent in by our two teachers, Dr Watson and Dr Handyside, urging on the Board the great injustice that would be done by our exclusion. We also obtained and sent in a written paper from three of the medical officers of the Infirmary, promising to give us all needful instruction if we were admitted.[88] When these documents were presented to the managers, a majority of those present were in favour of our immediate admission, but, on the ground of want of notice, our opponents got the matter deferred for a week. From that time the behaviour of the students changed. It is not for me to say what means were used, or what strings were pulled; but I know that the result was, that instead of being, as heretofore, silent and inoffensive, a certain proportion of the students with whom we worked became markedly offensive and insolent, and took every opportunity of practising the petty annoyances that occur to thoroughly ill-bred lads,—such as shutting doors in our faces, ostentatiously crowding into the seats we usually occupied, bursting into horse-laughs and howls when we approached, as if a coalition had been formed to make our position as uncomfortable as might be. At the same time a students’ petition against our admission to the Infirmary was handed about, and 500 signatures were obtained, though, if some of the reports I heard were true, but a very small number out of the 500 had even read the petition before signing it. Be this as it may, the petition was got ready for the adjourned meeting, and when that came, every opponent we had among the managers was at his place, while some of our friends were unavoidably absent, and the Lord Provost, being in the chair, was precluded from voting, so that the medical party gained an easy victory. But when I say the medical party, I ought to explain that three medical men voted on our side,—a point on which I shall have to say something subsequently.
The students were naturally elated at finding so much attention paid to their petition,[89] especially as I was told that some of the medical Professors had warmly applauded them for their exertions, and I suppose the lowest section among them began to wonder whether, if they had succeeded in keeping us out of the Infirmary, they might not, by a little extra brutality, drive us away from the lecture-room. Two days later, came the second competitive examination of the term, and on this day occurred the riot, when the gates were shut in our faces by a mob,[90] who stood within, smoking and passing about bottles of whiskey, while they abused us in the foulest possible language. It would be difficult to speak in too strong terms of the conduct of those engaged in this outrage, or of those who were morally responsible for it; but I am glad to say a word to-day about a part of the story which has not been made sufficiently public,—viz., the conduct of those of the students whose indignation against the rioters was even deeper than our own.[91] One gentleman rushed down from Surgeons’ Hall, and, at great risk to himself, forced open the gates for our admission, and a number of others made their way in after us to see that we came to no harm. When the class, which was interrupted throughout by the clamour outside, was over, Dr Handyside asked me if we would withdraw through a back door, but I said that I thought there were quite enough gentlemen in the class to protect us; and so it proved. As I spoke, a number came around us and formed a regular body-guard in front, behind, and on each side, and, encompassed by them, we passed through the still howling crowd at the gate, and reached home with no other injuries than those inflicted on our dresses by the mud hurled at us by our chivalrous foes. Nor was this all. When we arrived at the College next day, at the same hour, we found quite a formidable array of gentlemen with big sticks in their hands, who were keeping back a rabble that looked greatly disgusted, but merely vented their spite in remarkably bad language as the gentlemen referred to raised their hats as we approached, and instantly followed us in and took their seats on the back rows. After the lecture was over they formed round us, as on the evening before, escorted us home, gave us three deafening cheers, and dispersed. The explanation of all which was, that, hearing rumours of renewed rioting, a certain number of manly men among the students had resolved that the thing should not be, and for the next two or three days this same stalwart body-guard awaited and attended us daily, till the rowdies tacitly agreed to lay aside hostilities. Then I myself asked our volunteer guard to discontinue their most chivalrous escort, and quiet was restored.
No further event of importance occurred during the winter, except the meetings of Infirmary contributors, at the first of which a close contest took place between managers known to be favourable to us and those known to be unfriendly. A new Act came into operation at this date, and all the managers had to vacate their seats unless re-elected. I can give no more significant proof of the immense amount of pressure brought to bear by the medical clique than by stating that, of the three medical men who had voted for us six weeks before, it was found when the day of election came that two had turned their coats, while the one who refused to do so was unseated by the medical body that he had represented!
At the Contributors’ Meeting on Jan. 2, 1871, at which six managers were to be elected, the Lord Provost himself proposed the election of six gentlemen known to be friendly to the admission of ladies to the Infirmary; but by the very narrow majority of 94 votes to 88, the managers previously on the Board were returned. No other question was raised, and those who voted with the Lord Provost did so simply in consequence of the importance they attached to the exclusion of the ladies by those managers who now desired re-election.[92]
At a subsequent meeting, the Rev. Professor Charteris brought forward a motion expressive of the desire of the contributors that immediate arrangements should be made for the admission of the ladies, and this motion was seconded by Sir James Coxe, M. D., but was lost by a similarly small majority. On this latter occasion, two incidents occurred that deserve notice. Firstly, a petition in favour of the ladies’ admission was presented, signed by 956 women of Edinburgh.[93] Secondly, Mrs Nichol, an elderly lady whose name is venerated throughout Edinburgh, made, in spite of ill health, the great exertion of coming forward at that public meeting, to ask one question,—“not,” as she distinctly said, “in the interests of the lady students, but on behalf of those women who looked forward to see what kind of men were they who were to be the sole medical attendants of the next generation of women, if women doctors are not allowed.” The question which she said she had been commissioned to ask by more than 1300 women, belonging to all classes and all parts of the country, was as follows:—
“If the students studying at present in the Infirmary cannot contemplate with equanimity the presence of ladies as fellow-students, how is it possible that they can possess either the scientific spirit or the personal purity of mind which alone would justify their presence in the female wards during the most delicate operations on, and examinations of, female patients?”
This question was received, according to the newspaper report, with “Laughter, hisses, and applause,” but no one opened his mouth to reply. Perhaps in truth no reply could have been more significant than the burst of yells and howls which greeted the question from a gallery filled by students, who indeed so conducted themselves generally as to elicit a remark to me from a learned Professor, famous for his quaint sayings: “Well! ye can say now ye’ve fought with beasts at Ephesus!”