Fellow Doctor Defends Elizabeth Blackwell, First Woman Doctor

When Elizabeth Blackwell became the first woman doctor in U.S. history, receiving her Medical Degree from Geneva Medical College on Jan. 23, 1849, it troubled many members of the press, medical establishment, and the general public. These critics worried about the implications of a female doctor, and vented their displeasure at “proprieties” being upset. Others, however, came forward to support Blackwell’s efforts and applaud her achievement.

One such supporter was a Dr. Bailey, who wrote an article about Elizabeth Blackwell for the National Era newspaper in which he praised her character, hard work and intelligence. His article was reprinted in dozens of newspapers and contributed greatly to the ongoing discussion of this new phenomenon of a woman doctor.

Here is Dr. Bailey’s article, printed by the National Era (Washington, D.C.) on April 5, 1849:

Elizabeth Blackwell, M. D.

The public, through the newspapers, has been pretty generally informed that this lady was a regular student of Geneva Medical College, and received the diploma of that institution at its last commencement. As she is the first Medical Doctor of her sex in the United States, the case is, naturally enough, one of those questionable matters upon which there must be a great variety of opinions, and the public sentiment is, besides, influenced by the partial and inaccurate statements of facts and conjectures which usually supply the place of correct information. To help your readers to a better understanding of the whole matter than they can gather from these uncertain sources, and especially to inform those who feel something beyond a merely curious interest in it, I venture to furnish you a hasty sketch of her course, and such notions of herself and of her aims as the proprieties of the case seem to warrant.

Miss B. is twenty-eight years of age. She was born in the city of Bristol, England. Her father settled with his family in New York when she was about eleven years old. After a residence there of five or six years, he failed in business, and removed to Cincinnati. A few weeks after his arrival there he died, leaving his widow and nine children in very embarrassed circumstances. Elizabeth, the third daughter, was then seventeen years of age. During the ensuing seven years, she assisted two of her sisters in teaching a young lady’s seminary. By the joint efforts of the elder children, the younger members of the family were supported and educated, and a comfortable homestead on Walnut Hill was secured for the family. The property which, in the midst of their first difficulties, they had the forecast to purchase, has already quadrupled the price which it cost them. I give this fact for the illustration of character which it affords. The enterprise of these young ladies is still farther indicated by the next steps which they severally took. Anna, the eldest, some years ago took up her residence in the city of New York, where she has until lately worked at the trade of periodical authorship, French translation, and composer of music. She is now in England, under an engagement with a publisher there to translate the whole of Fourier’s works. She was selected for this task for her very high ability in French translation, and the excellence of her English style. Another sister, Emily, is teaching a boys’ school in Cincinnati, preparing them for college in the departments of mathematics and the classic languages. And Elizabeth, after two or three years’ hard labor and study in North and South Carolina, and two years more, exclusively devoted to the study of medicine, in Philadelphia and Geneva, has her medical diploma in her pocket.

About five years ago she first entertained the idea of devoting herself to the study of medicine. Having taken the resolution, she went vigorously to work to effect it. She commenced the study of Greek, and persevered until she could read it satisfactorily, and revived her Latin by devoting three or four hours a day to it, until she had both sufficiently for all ordinary and professional purposes. French she had taught, and studied German to gratify her fondness for its modern literature. The former she speaks with fluency, and translates the latter elegantly, and can manage to read Italian prose pretty well.

Early in the spring of 1845, for the purpose of making the most money in the shortest time, she set out for North Carolina, and, after some months teaching French and music, and reading medicine with Dr. John Dickson at Asheville, she removed to Charleston. Here she taught music alone, and read industriously under the direction of Dr. Samuel H. Dickson, then a resident of Charleston, and now professor of practice in the University of New York. Two years ago she came to Philadelphia, for the purpose of pursuing the study [of medicine]. That summer, Dr. J. M. Allen, Professor of Anatomy, afforded her excellent opportunities for dissection in his private anatomical rooms. The winter following she attended her first full course of lectures at Geneva. The next summer, she resided at the Blockley Hospital, Philadelphia, where she had the kindest attentions from Doctor Benedict, the Principal Physician, and the very large range for observation which its great variety and number of cases afford. Last winter, she attended her second course at Geneva, and graduated regularly at the close of the session. Her thesis was upon Ship Fever, which she had ample opportunities for observing at Blockley. It was so ably written that the Faculty of Geneva determined to give it publication.

It is in keeping with my idea of this story to add, that the proceeds of her own industry have been adequate to the entire expense of her medical education—about eight hundred dollars.

In a few weeks she will leave for Paris, with the design of remaining there one or two years, hoping to obtain there still greater facilities for the farther study of her profession than this country affords; especially in the department of surgery, which she has had but little opportunity to see.

She will return, when this purpose is accomplished, to practice medicine in all its branches, and will probably settle in the city of New York.

My purpose in detailing these particulars is to give the fullest notion of her enterprise and object. She gave the best summary of it that can be put into words in her reply to the President of the Geneva College, when he presented her diploma. Departing from the usual form, he rose and addressed her in a manner so emphatic and unusual, that she was surprised into a response. “I thank you, sir,” said she. “With the help of the Most High, it shall be the study of my life to shed honor on this diploma.”

Her settled sentiment was, perhaps, unconsciously discovered in this brief speech. She had fought her way into the profession, openly, without disguise, evasion, or any indirection, steadily refusing all compromises and expediencies, and under better impulses and with higher aims than personal ambition or the distinction of singularity. Her object was not the honor that a medical degree could confer upon her, but the honor that she resolved to bestow upon it; and that she will nobly redeem this pledge is, to all who know her, rather more certain than almost any other unarrived event.

Those who will form opinions about Miss Blackwell herself, from their own views of her enterprise, run a very great risk of making mistakes. It is natural enough for them to ask, “what sort of a woman is she?” and it is likely that each will answer it for himself, but it is not likely that one in a dozen will hit the truth. Manifest considerations of propriety forbid such a description in the public prints, and especially due respect for her own feelings checks the inclination which I feel to draw her personal character. She seeks no notoriety that can be avoided, though she shrinks from no necessary exposure. She has not given her name to any of the publications by which she has been earning money for the achievement of her great undertaking, and her avoidance of the occasions of notoriety which court her at every turn amounts almost to a fault. In manner and spirit she is as quiet and retiring as she is inflexible in purpose and determined in action. The spirit of adventure never had a more gentle and tranquil lodgment in woman’s nature.

In the last two or three years, she has solicited perhaps fifty medical men, and at least a dozen medical schools, for the privilege of studying the profession, and was refused by all except those which I have mentioned. I heard her say that she had found in the Union four medical schools willing to admit black men, and only two that would extend the same courtesy to white women. I have seen her often after her successive repulses, but in no instance heard a word of complaint or reproach, or observed the slightest indication of dejection. Her conclusion always was, “There is some place in the world for me, and I’ll find it.” There are doubtless other physicians, and perhaps other schools, that would have received her, but she always took the first acceptable grant, and instantly availed herself of it, with an industry and promptitude that I never saw matched. The fact is, that the faith in which she lives and works has the tone and all the force of religious confidence. The secret of her efficiency and her success is in that patience which rests upon the Divine Providence. Her construction of the resistance which she was constantly encountering was always kinder and perhaps truer than any friend would allow or any opponent could fairly ask.

She entertains no particular respect for the science of medicine, and disavows any natural taste for its pursuit; and the incidents of the study I believe are as repugnant to her as to any sensible woman who would shudder at the thought of them. But she differs in the matter of nerves from those who shudder at anything which comes in the shape of duty and noble enterprise. She devoted herself to her novel undertaking at twenty-three years of age, because she had then worked herself into the spirit of victory, and the tone of an earnest life that could not be smothered in her merely personal interests. Heroes are not made of the metal that is liable to rust.

In person, she is every way rather below the middle size. Her weight is certainly less than 110, but her muscular vigor is perfectly prodigious. She is never ill, knows nothing of pain, and is almost incapable of fatigue.

Will she succeed? Those who, knowing her, do not know that now, are just the kind of geniuses who will not know the fact when it is fulfilled before their eyes.

After her return from Geneva this spring, having the desire to hear our most distinguished medical teachers, she was cordially invited by several of them. In the presence of these large classes, she heard Drs. Jackson, Chapman, Horner, Gibson, and Rodgers, of the University of Pennsylvania; and she also heard Drs. Dunglesson and Mutter, of the Jefferson School; and Dr. Williamson, of the Homeopathic College. Dr. Wood, of the University, refused. Conservatism came very near to caving in completely, but a little Hunkerism saved it from a general crash. The Professors of the Geneva College, I learn, have to suffer a little from a few of the old treadmill regulars, but they are manly enough to pay the price of their own independence without any heart-breaking. What an orderly thing established order is; and what a respectable thing respectability is; and, moreover, what an interesting thing professional interest is!

A few of the suckling Galens [ancient Roman physician—ed.] who loafed upon the University benches, I thought, looked a little awful at the sight of a woman—not exposed upon the surgeon’s table or hacked to pieces in the dissecting room, but sitting for all the world like a Doctor of Medicine on the platform with the Lecturer. They had my sympathies. I really pitied them. Think of a rowdy medical student objecting to anything on earth on account of its indelicacy! It is their misapprehension that a physician must be more or less of a blackguard. The question of propriety and delicacy had better not be raised—it will thin the ranks of the male practitioners when it comes up. Women will decide whether they must forever remain only sufferers and subjects of medical indelicacy, if they are once wakened up to the discussion.

No one knows better, no one feels more the impropriety of a woman studying medicine among a crowd of students, than Miss Blackwell; and when she can remove the necessity, she will do it. There is some sort of relief for objectors in that; and if it affords them any comfort, they may quit whimpering.

But Miss Blackwell must not be made responsible for my feelings about and manner of treating this matter. Her own are in many respects very different. She was generously invited by the medical class of Geneva to come among them. In one of the resolutions which they forwarded to her, they pledged themselves to do everything in their power to make her attendance agreeable to her. For two winters she tried them, and acknowledges that, in letter and spirit, they kept their promise nobly. It was next to impossible that they should do otherwise, but they did do all that was possible to relieve her from the disagreeables of the course; and one of the Professors has declared that the College could better afford to pay such a woman as Miss B. for attending, than do without the wholesome influence of her presence in the lecture-room.

Thus far the whole affair justifies itself, and the future can also take care of itself.

The conclusion of the whole matter, I think, is just this: the subject is no longer a question, but a fact. Miss B. is a worker. Just so far as people are workers, they are omnipotent, every one of them; they need very little help, and cannot be much hindered by anybody. She is one of those who cannot be hedged up, or turned aside, or defeated. She will not stop to complain or wrangle about proprieties with people that never do anything, either right or wrong, and she won’t fret. She is a woman, not of words, but of deeds; and those who only want to talk about it, may as well give it up. Withal, her purpose is higher pitched, her aim is broader, her idea deeper, than appears to those who look only at surfaces, and worry themselves with what they call proprieties and practicabilities.

Truly,
Your Friend,
Dr. Bailey.

Click here for more articles about American Women’s History.