Part 2

In the seventeenth century, in England, one of the women most noted for medical skill was Lady Ann Halket,[28] born in 1622, daughter of the then provost of Eton College. “Next to the study of Divinity she seems to have taken most delight in those of Physick and Surgery, in which she was no mean proficient; nay, some of the best physicians in the kingdom did not think themselves slighted when persons of the greatest quality did consult her in their distempers, even when they attended them as their ordinary physicians. Many from England, Holland, and the remotest parts of the kingdom, have sent to her for things of her preparing; and many whose diseases have proved obstinate under all the methods of physicians, have at length, by the physicians’ own advice, been recommended and sent to her care, and have been recovered by her.”

In 1644 was born Elizabeth Lawrence, afterwards wife of the Rev. Samuel Bury, of Bristol, who wrote her life,[29] and who bears witness that “it was not possible there should be a more observant, tender, indulgent, and compassionate wife than she was; a more sympathising spirit is very rarely found.” He records that “she took much pleasure in Anatomy and Medicine, being led and prompted to it partly by her own ill health, and partly with a desire of being useful.” The difficulties that she encountered in her studies may be guessed, since “she would often regret that so many learned men should be so uncharitable to her sex, and be so loath to assist their feebler faculties when they were anywise disposed to an accurate search into things profitable and curious. Especially as they would all so readily own that souls were not distinguished by sexes. And therefore she thought it would have been an honourable pity in them to have offered something in condescension to their capacities, rather than have propagated a despair of their information to future ages.” Her husband, however, tells us that “she improved so much, that many of the great masters of the Faculty have often been startled by her stating the most nice and difficult cases in such proper terms;” and, remarking that, “How much knowledge and skill soever she attained in the practice of Physick, by long observation, conversation, and experience, yet she was very distrustful of herself,” he adds that the “instances of her successes in the preservation of human lives were not easily numbered.”

As a contemporary of these Englishwomen, we find in Germany Elizabeth Keillen, who published several medical works, and died in 1699. She is said by Finauer to have had “great knowledge of medicine and chemistry.”

In comparatively recent times, Bologna was remarkable as ever for its liberal encouragement of learned women, and about the middle of the last century the Chair of Anatomy at that University was filled by Anna Morandi Mazzolini, whose exquisitely delicate anatomical models, executed in wax, became the pride of the Museum at Bologna. She first became interested in the study of Anatomy in consequence of her wish to help her husband, who was a distinguished anatomist, and a maker of anatomical designs and models. He fell into ill-health and mental despondency, and therefore “his wife, loving him dearly, and fearing that he would desist from his work, gave herself up to his comfort; and for this purpose became herself an anatomical sculptor, reading works of anatomy, consulting anatomical tables and preparations, taking theoretical and practical lessons from her husband, and, marvellous to say, even dissecting dead bodies with resolute mind, and with incredible perseverance.... Too long to describe are the works executed in wax by the able hands of this illustrious woman. They were collected in five elegant cases in our Anatomical Museum.... The fourth case encloses delicate illustrations of all the parts belonging to the senses of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch--stupendous works in which she surpassed herself, and also her husband, and his colleague, Ercole Lelli.... These models were for some time kept in her own house, and each one who saw them spread her renown, so that through distant countries was spread the fame of her works, so that every learned and distinguished person passing through Bologna was solicitous to visit and know personally the maker of these wonders.”[30] Signora Mazzolini also made original discoveries in anatomical science, which obtained for her many marks of distinction from the learned colleges and societies of the day. She was offered a Chair at Milan, with increased revenues, but preferred to remain at Bologna, where she lived till her death in 1774. Medici, in his records of the Anatomical School of Bologna, speaks of this lady with profound respect, as distinguished alike by “rare powers, great erudition, gracious manners, and delicate and gentle temperament,” and relates that her fame reached the ears of the Emperor Joseph II., who visited her in 1769, and “having seen her works and heard her conversation,” loaded her with public honours. Her example seems to have inspired others of her countrywomen to follow in the steps of one so honoured, alike in the stern duties of her profession, and in the sanctities of household life; for in the course of the next half century several Italian women availed themselves of the thorough medical education which the Italian Universities never refused.

In 1788 Maria Petraccini[31] took a degree in medicine at Florence, and we find her, a little later, lecturing on anatomy at Ferrara, in presence of the medical professors. She married Signor Feretti, and has left several works on the physical education of children.

Her daughter, Zaffira Feretti, seems to have inherited her mother’s talents, for she studied Surgery in the University of Bologna, and there received a medical degree[32] in May 1800. She obtained an appointment under the Italian Government, and for some time lived in Ancona acting as Director-General of the midwives in all parts of the country. She afterwards went to Turkey, and died at Patras in 1817.

Maria Mastellari seems also to have been a woman of unusual talent, and “progressed diligently in the most rigid sciences.” She obtained a medical degree at Bologna in 1799. She subsequently became the wife of Signor Collizoli-Sega, and is described as possessing a “sweet and gentle temperament, with special love of silence and quiet. She centred her interests in her family, which she managed admirably.”[33]

Still more distinguished in the annals of medicine was Maria delle Donne, who also studied in the University of Bologna, and “received the doctoral laurel” in 1806.[34] She “constantly practised both Medicine and Surgery,” and was appointed by Napoleon Bonaparte to the Chair of Midwifery at Bologna. The _Gazette Medicale_, quoting from the “_Raccoglitore Medico_,” gives the following account of her:--“Anna Maria delle Donne, docteur en médecine, auteur d’élégants vers latins, professeur d’obstetrique, à l’Université de Bologna, membre de l’Academie, bénédictine, &c., est décedée le 9 Janvier, 1842. Cette femme distinguée qui a succedé à Madame Mazzolini et à Madame Bassi, est une des gloires scientifiques de Bologna. Elle soutint en 1800, avec un très grand succès, une thèse de Philosophie, de Chirurgie, and de Medicine. Peu après, à la suite d’un examen public, on lui conféra le grade de docteur et de consultant. Napoleon en passant à Bologne fut frappé du savoir de cette dame, et institua pour elle une Chaire d’Obstetrique, où elle se fit une grande renommée.”[35]

Nor was Italy alone noted as the birthplace of women skilled in Medicine. In Germany, early in this century, Frau von Siebold so greatly distinguished herself in the practice of midwifery that the degree of M.D. was conferred on her by the University of Giessen;[36] and her daughter Marianne, afterwards Frau von Heidenreich, studied in the Universities of both Göttingen and Giessen, and took her degree in the regular way in 1817. She is spoken of as “one of the most famed and eminent female scholars of Germany,” and as being “universally honoured as one of the first living authorities in her special branch of science.”[37] She died only in 1859.

In France, the name of Madame Lachapelle[38] was known and honoured as that of one of the ablest teachers of Midwifery during the latter part of the last century. She has left several valuable works on subjects connected with her specialty. Her funeral in 1821 was followed by all the chief physicians of Paris. Her pupil and successor, Madame Boivin,[39] was still more distinguished for her medical knowledge and skill, and for her contributions to anatomical science. Her “Memoire de l’art des Accouchements” was approved by the highest medical authority, and was appointed as the text-book for students and midwives by the Minister of the Interior. She was invested with an Order of Merit by the King of Prussia in 1814, and in the same year was appointed co-director (with the Marquis de Belloy) of the General Hospital for Seine and Oise, and in 1815 was entrusted with the direction of a temporary Military Hospital, for her services in which latter capacity she received a public vote of thanks. She was also entrusted with the direction of the Hospice de la Maternité, and of the Maison Royale de Santé, and was one of the most distinguished practitioners of the time. She made original discoveries in Anatomy, invented various surgical instruments, and obtained prizes for medical theses from the Société de Medicine.

Her medical writings were distinguished by “precision et clarté, jugement sain, erudition choisie, et savoir solide.” In 1846 one of her books was eulogized by Jourdan as “ouvrage éminemment pratique, et le meilleur que nous possedions encore sur ce sujet,” with the additional remark that “tout se réunit pour lui mériter une des premières places parmi les productions de la littérature medicale moderne.” She was a member of the Medical Societies of Paris, Bordeaux, Berlin, Brussels, and Bruges, and was honoured with the degree of M.D. from the University of Marbourg. She died in 1841.

These numerous instances of the successful practice of Medicine by women seem to have been little known, or else forgotten, to judge by the surprise expressed when, after surmounting many difficulties, an English lady, named Elizabeth Blackwell, succeeded in obtaining medical education and the degree of M.D. from a medical school in America in 1849. The novelty, in truth, was not in the granting of the medical degree to a woman, but in its being received by an Englishwoman, for it is hardly gratifying to one’s national pride to find that England never has accorded such encouragement to female learning as was found in Italy, Germany, and France; and it is still more painful to realize that this country, almost alone, stands still aloof from the movement of liberal wisdom that has now in all these lands, as well as in Switzerland, and even in Russia, granted to woman the advantage of University education and degrees. English women are not behind others in desiring knowledge, but as yet they are forced to seek it on foreign shores, for hitherto no British University has ever fully admitted women to its educational advantages; and a few years ago, that of London, with all its professions of liberality, refused a woman’s petition even for examination for the degree of M.D.!

So much for the historical evidence bearing on this question. I am indeed sorry to have paused so long on this part of the subject, but it seemed essential to a proper statement of the whole case.

If, then, nature does not instinctively forbid the practice of the healing art by women, and if it cannot be denied that some at least of its branches have long been in their hands, we must go further to seek on what grounds their admission to the medical profession should be opposed.

Probably the next argument will be that women do not require, and are not fitted to receive, the scientific education needful for a first-rate Physician, and that “for their own sakes” it is not desirable that they should pursue some of the studies indispensably necessary. To this the answer must be, that the wisest thinkers teach us to believe that each human being must be “a law unto himself,” and must decide what is and what is not suitable for his needs, what will and what will not contribute to his own development, and fit him best to fulfil the life-work most congenial to his tastes. If women claim that they do need and can appreciate instruction in any or all sciences, I do not know who has the right to deny the assertion.

That this controversy is no new one may be proved by reference to a very curious black-letter volume now in the British Museum,[40] wherein the writer protests, “I mervayle gretely of the opynyon of some men that say they wolde not in no wyse that theyr doughters or wyves or kynneswomen sholde lerne scyences, and that it sholde apayre their cödycyons. This thing is not to say ne to sustayne. That the woman apayreth by connynge it is not well to beleve. As the proverbe sayeth, ‘that nature gyveth maye not be taken away.’”

If it be argued that the study of Natural Science may injure a woman’s character, I would answer, in the words of one of the purest-minded women I know, that “if a woman’s womanliness is not deep enough in her nature to bear the brunt of any needful education, it is not worth guarding.” It is, I think, inconceivable that any one who considers the study of natural science to be but another word for earnest and reverent inquiry into the works of God, and who believes that, in David’s words, these are to be “sought out of all them that have pleasure therein,” can imagine that any such study can be otherwise than elevating and helpful to the moral, as well to the mental nature of every student who pursues it in a right spirit. In the words of Scripture, “To the pure, all things are pure,” and in the phrase of chivalry, “Honi soit qui mal y pense.”

It has always struck me as a curious inconsistency, that while almost everybody applauds and respects Miss Nightingale and her followers for their brave disregard of conventionalities on behalf of suffering humanity, and while hardly any one would pretend that there was any want of feminine delicacy in their going among the foulest sights and most painful scenes, to succour, not their own sex, but the other, many people yet profess to be shocked when other women desire to fit themselves to take the medical care of those of their sisters who would gladly welcome their aid. Where is the real difference? If a woman is to be applauded for facing the horrors of an army hospital when she believes that she can there do good work, why is she to be condemned as indelicate when she professes her willingness to go through an ordeal, certainly no greater, to obtain the education necessary for a medical practitioner? Surely work is in no way degraded by being made scientific; it cannot be commendable to obey instructions as a nurse when it would be unseemly to learn the reasons for them as a student, or to give them as a doctor; more especially as the nurse’s duties may lead her, as they did in the Crimea, to attend on men with injuries and diseases of all kinds, whereas the woman who practises as a physician would confine her practice to women only. It is indeed hard to see any reason of delicacy, at least, which can be adduced in favour of women as nurses, and against them as physicians.

Their natural capacity for the one sphere or the other is, of course, a wholly different matter, and is, indeed, a thing not to be argued about, but to be tested.[41] If women fail to pass the required examinations for the ordinary medical degree, or if, after their entrance into practice, they fail to succeed in it, the whole question is naturally and finally disposed of. But that is not the point now at issue.

That the most thorough and scientific medical education need do no injury to any woman might safely be prophesied, even if the experiment had never been tried; but we have, moreover, the absolute confirmation of experience on the point, as I, for one, will gladly testify from personal acquaintance in America with many women who have made Medicine their profession; having had myself the advantage of studying under one who was characterized, by a medical gentleman known throughout the professional world, as “one of the best physicians in Boston,” and who, certainly, was more remarkable for thorough refinement of mind than most women I know,--Dr Lucy Sewall.

Of course there may always be unfortunate exceptions, or rather there will always be those of both sexes who, whatever their profession may be, will be sure to disgrace it; but it is not of them that I speak, nor is it by such individual cases that the supporters of any great movement should be judged.

The next argument usually advanced against the practice of medicine by women is that there is no demand for it; that women, as a rule, have little confidence in their own sex, and had rather be attended by a man. That everybody had rather be attended by a competent physician is no doubt true; that women have hitherto had little experience of competent physicians of their own sex is equally true; nor can it be denied that the education bestowed on most women is not one likely to inspire much confidence. It is probably a fact, that until lately there has been “no demand” for women doctors, because it does not occur to most people to demand what does not exist; but that very many women have wished that they could be medically attended by those of their own sex I am very sure, and I know of more than one case where ladies have habitually gone through one confinement after another without proper attendance, because the idea of employing a man was so extremely repugnant to them. I have indeed repeatedly found that even doctors, not altogether favourable to the present movement, allow that they consider men rather out of place in midwifery practice;[42] and an eminent American practitioner once remarked to me that he never entered a lady’s room to attend her in confinement without wishing to apologize for what he felt to be an intrusion, though a necessary and beneficent intrusion, in one of his sex.

I suppose that the real test of “demand” is not in the opinions expressed by those women who have never even seen a thoroughly educated female physician, but in the practice which flows in to any such physician when her qualifications are clearly satisfactory. In England there are at present but two women legally qualified to practise Medicine, and I understand that already their time is much more fully occupied, and their receipts much greater, than is usually the case with medical men who have been practising for so short a period. Dr Garrett Anderson’s Dispensary for poor women is also largely attended, and during the five years which have elapsed since it was opened, more than 40,000 visits have been made to it; 9000 new patients have been admitted, and 250 midwifery cases have been attended by the midwives attached to the charity, Dr Garrett Anderson being called in when necessary.

When we turn to America, we find that a considerable number of women have very extensive practice and large professional incomes (more, indeed, than in some cases seems warranted by their medical qualifications). The Report of a little hospital, managed entirely by women, in Boston, U.S., relates that during 1867 the number of in-patients was 198; of persons visited at their homes, 281; and of those able to attend at the dispensary, 4,576; all these patients being women and children only. In fact, the attendance at the Dispensary became so excessive in proportion to the resources of the charity, that in 1868 a rule was passed by the Committee requiring each patient to pay twenty-five cents (or about ninepence) for medicines, at each visit, except when she brought “a certificate of her poverty, properly authenticated.” This regulation brought out still more strongly the distinct _choice_ of poor women in this matter, for, though the General City Dispensary gave medicines gratuitously, the number of those who attended at the Woman’s Hospital was much less diminished than was expected, being still 3,236 in 1868. In New York also, where the Dispensary managed by women doctors is but one of many, the crowd of patients is very great, the numbers being, in 1867, no less than 6354, while 545 persons were attended at their homes either in confinement or during severe illness. Of course it will be understood that each patient thus entered on the books implies not one visit, but many, paid to the Dispensary, or often repeated attendance at the patient’s home.

Of the Boston Hospital for Women and Children I can speak from lengthened experience in it as a student. When standing in its dispensary I have over and over again heard rough women of a very poor class say, when questioned why they had not had earlier treatment for certain diseases, “Oh, I _could not_ go to a man with such a trouble, and I did not know till just now that ladies did this work;” and from others have repeatedly heard different expressions of the feeling that, “It’s so nice, isn’t it, to be able at last to ask ladies about such things?”

As I am alluding to my own experience in this matter, I may perhaps be allowed to say how often in the same place I have been struck with the _contingent_ advantages attendant on the medical care by women of women. How often I have seen cases connected with stories of shame or sorrow to which a woman’s hand could far most fittingly minister, and where sisterly help and counsel could give far more appropriate succour than could be expected from the average young medical man, however good his intentions. Perhaps we shall find the solution of some of our saddest social problems when educated and pure-minded women are brought more constantly in contact with their sinning and suffering sisters, in other relations as well as those of missionary effort.