THE RIOT AT SURGEONS’ HALL
S. J.-B.’s medical experience in America had consisted mainly of
practical hospital work, and that chiefly in connection with the special
diseases of women. She had done a little dissecting in a rough and ready
way, and the privilege of what she then considered “real teaching” had
just been put within her reach when she was called home by the illness
of her father. She had this advantage, however, over her fellow-
students,—she knew that the “horrors” of the dissecting-room have only
to be faced in a spirit of serious intention in order to be dispelled.
She knew by experience that one _must_ pull oneself together in the
first instance for fear of doing irreparable damage to the dainty
structures that lie almost as cunningly hidden in surrounding tissue as
the future statue lies in the block of marble; and she knew that, little
by little, the privilege of laying bare that marvellous “handiwork”
becomes so enthralling as to make the earnest student oblivious to
everything else.
The Anatomy Class began formally in November, but the rooms were open
and teachers present from the beginning of October, for those who cared
to attend; so the women had the advantage of meeting in the first
instance only the keener of the students, or at least those who were
working with a special object in view. The women would gladly have had a
separate room, had this been available, but in their quiet corner they
worked away steadily, forgetful of all beyond. And everything went well.
Never, the lecturer said, had better work been done in his class-rooms.
Meanwhile influential friends were doing what in them lay to forward the
interests of the women in other quarters; for it must be remembered
that, as matriculated students of the University they ought not to have
been _compelled_ to study in Extra-Mural classes, and indeed it was only
a limited number of such classes that would be accepted for the
University degree. On October 28th a motion was brought forward in the
General Council of the University in favour of affording farther
facilities to the lady students. The motion was met by a direct
negative, Professor Christison asserting in the course of his speech
that Her Majesty Queen Victoria had expressed her concurrence in the
views that had been put forth on a previous occasion by Dr. Laycock and
himself. If there was any truth in this, one can only speculate as to
the form in which the story had reached Her Majesty’s ears,—certainly
not through the medium of a leading article in the _Times_. What weight
her reported opinion may have carried it is impossible to say, but, in
any case, when put to the vote, the negative was carried by 47 to 46.
(“Well, try again next year!” says S. J.-B.)
In reading the whole story, one is struck over and over again by the
narrowness of the majority by which things were turned. Great is the
responsibility of the weak and cowardly, the lazy and double-minded,—the
“unstable” who call themselves impartial.
At this stage, wisely or not, the women were advised to apply for
permission to work in the wards of the Royal Infirmary. This was the
only hospital in Edinburgh large enough to fulfil the requirements of
the General Medical Council for registration as a medical practitioner,
and the women were entitled to the privilege in virtue of their
Matriculation tickets. They knew that some of the doctors were in their
favour. Here are two of the “thumb-nail sketches” from the diary:
“Saturday, Oct. 29th. Dr. Watson,—most friendly. Only too happy to
have us as pupils. Could not anticipate difficulty about Infirmary,
etc....
Dr. Littlejohn foresaw the ruin of his son by women doctors, but
‘would drink the bitter cup to its dregs,’ and vote for us.”
Their request, however, was met by a curt refusal.
“Monday, October 31st. Refused us dead.
Gordon says, ‘Try a written memorial!’ Wood says he believes their
charter compels them to admit all medical students.
Qui vivra verra.”
It is obvious that they had approached the very stronghold of the enemy.
Might is right and possession nine points of the law. The matter lay in
the hands of a body of Managers who were obviously judging the case as
represented to them by the medical party in power; so now the duty fell
upon the women of explaining their position as far as possible to those
in whose hands the decision lay.
“Friday, Nov. 4th. Just put down this day’s work for a specimen!
Studying and canvassing at once,—
8.45. Started for Surgeons’ Hall.
9-10. Tutorial class, bones.
10-11. Surgery lecture.
11-1. Dissecting.
1-2. Anatomy Lecture.
2.10 Reached home and found a letter from Mr. Blyth (Manager) telling
me to meet him at 2 p.m.!! Got there (after bolting beef-tea and wine)
at 2.45. Talked at him for nearly an hour with good results, I
believe. Got back home 3.40. Bolted some food, and went
4 p.m. Demonstration exam. Didn’t know the Acromion but got 13/20
marks.
Home to dinner.
7 p.m. Started on round of calls.
Home at 10 p.m. Not tired,—oh, dear no!”
“I _don’t_ like you to be a perpetual battering ram,” writes Miss Du
Pre, “for I suppose battering rams do wear out after a good many
sieges; but still I thoroughly like and admire your ‘never say die’
feeling, and it _is_ a fight with something worth fighting for to be
got at the end, which is a great thing.
If only I could be with you!”
One must read the following letters, which were laid before the
subsequent meetings of the Board, in order to realize how strong and
sane the position of the women was:
“November 5, 1870.
MY LORD AND GENTLEMEN,—As lecturers in the Edinburgh Medical School we
beg most respectfully to approach your honourable Board, on behalf of
the eight female students of this school whom, we understand, you
object to admit to the practice of the Royal Infirmary. On their
behalf we beg to state:—
1. That they are regularly registered students of medicine in this
school.
2. That they are at present attending, along with the other students,
our courses of anatomy, practical anatomy, demonstrations of anatomy,
and systematic surgery, in the school at Surgeons’ Hall.
3. That as teachers of anatomy and surgery respectively, we find no
difficulty in conducting our courses to such mixed classes composed of
male and female students sitting together on the same benches; and
that the presence of those eight female students has not led us to
alter or modify our course of instruction in any way.
4. That the presence of the female students, so far from diminishing
the numbers entering our classes, we find both the attendance and the
actual numbers already enrolled are larger than in previous sessions.
5. That in our experience in these mixed classes the demeanour of the
students is more orderly and quiet, and their application to study
more diligent and earnest, than during former sessions when male
students alone were present.
6. That, in our opinion, if practical bedside instruction in the
examination and treatment of cases is withheld from the female pupils
by the refusal to them of access as medical students to the practice
of the Infirmary, we must regard the value of any systematic surgical
course thus rendered devoid of daily practical illustration, as
infinitely less than the same course attended by male pupils, who have
the additional advantage of the hospital instruction under the same
teacher.
7. That the surgical instruction, being deprived of its practical
aspect by the exclusion of the female pupils from the Infirmary, and
therefore from the wards of their systematic surgical teacher, the
knowledge of these female students may very reasonably be expected to
suffer, not only in class-room examinations, but in their capacity to
practise their profession in after life.
8. That our experience of mixed classes leads us to the conviction
that the attendance of the female students at the ordinary hospital
visit, along with the male students, cannot certainly be more
objectionable to the male students and the male patients than the
presence of the ward nurses, or to the female patients than the
presence of the male students.
9. That the class of society to which these eight female students
belong, together with the reserve of manner, and the serious and
reverent spirit in which they devote themselves to the study of
medicine, make it impossible that any impropriety could arise out of
their attendance upon the wards as regards either patients or male
pupils.
In conclusion, we trust that your honourable Board may see fit, on
considering these statements, to resolve not to exclude these female
students from the practice of, at all events, those physicians and
surgeons who do not object to their presence at the ordinary visit
along with the other students.
Such an absolute exclusion of female pupils from the wards of the
Royal Infirmary as such a decision of your honourable Board would
determine, we could not but regard as an act of practical injustice to
pupils who, having been admitted to the study of the medical
profession, must have their further progress in their studies barred
if hospital attendance is refused them.—We are, my Lord and Gentlemen,
your obedient servants,
P. D. HANDYSIDE,
PATRICK HERON WATSON.”
The second letter was a petition signed by the lady students, the famous
“Septem contra Edinam,” as they were called, enclosing _Paper A_ and
_Paper B_. It may be well to give the names of the gallant seven once
for all: Sophia Jex-Blake, Mary Edith Pechey (Mrs. Pechey Phipson),
Isabel Thorne, Matilda Chaplin (Mrs. Ayrton), Helen Evans (Mrs. Russel),
Mary Anderson (Mrs. Marshall), Emily Bovell (Mrs. Sturge).
“November 5, 1870.
_Paper A._—We, the undersigned physicians and surgeons of the Royal
Infirmary desire to signify our willingness to allow female students
of medicine to attend the practice of our wards, and to express our
opinion that such attendance would in no way interfere with the full
discharge of our duties towards our patients and other students.
J. HUGHES BENNETT,
GEORGE W. BALFOUR,
PATRICK HERON WATSON.”
In _paper B_, two other medical men expressed their readiness, if
suitable arrangements could be made, to teach the female students in
the wards separately.
“15 Buccleuch Place, Nov. 13, 1870.
MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,—To prevent any possible misconception, I beg
leave, in the name of my fellow-students and myself, to state
distinctly that, while urgently requesting your honourable Board to
issue to us the ordinary students’ tickets for the Infirmary (as they
alone will ‘qualify’ for graduation), we have, in the event of their
being granted, no intention whatever of attending in the wards of
those physicians and surgeons who object to our presence there, both
as a matter of courtesy, and because we shall be already provided with
sufficient means of instruction in attending the wards of those
gentlemen who have expressed their perfect willingness to receive us.—
I beg, my Lord and Gentlemen, to subscribe myself your obedient
servant,
SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE.
To the Honourable the Managers of the Royal Infirmary.”
Now the managers of the Infirmary were worthy folk as human nature goes,
“several” of them, says S.J.-B., known to the women as “just and
liberal-minded men,” so it is not surprising that a majority were
sufficiently moved by these arguments to desire that the request of the
women be granted. On the ground of want of notice, however, the party in
power got the matter deferred for a week.
And now, clearly, the moment had come when every effort must be made to
turn the women out altogether. If they carried their point at the next
meeting, all might well be lost.
It was at this juncture that, for the first time, some of the students
began to make themselves unpleasant, “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 conspiracy had
been formed to make our position as uncomfortable as might be.” A
students’ petition against the admission of women to the Infirmary was
handed about, and 500 students signed it.
So the majority gained their point, and the party in power won an easy
victory.
“Follow it up,” said someone. “Don’t stop there. While you are at it,
why not get rid of the women altogether?”[69]
Footnote 69:
This is a neutral and harmless paraphrase of the arguments some of the
professors actually used in talking to the students, but one does not
want to perpetuate the memory of words used in an angry conflict.
It was not a surprising suggestion; the presence of the women was making
some people very uncomfortable; but those who made the suggestion must
have had a pretty good idea of how the students would proceed to carry
it out, and what class of student would take the lead.
For a day or two a feeble and cowardly effort was made to obstruct the
entrance of women into the class-room, but S. J.-B., followed by her
companions, simply failed to see the students who half-heartedly stood
in her way, and walked through them.
And then came about the “riot at Surgeons’ Hall”, of which so much has
since been said, and of which Charles Reade made picturesque use in his
novel, _The Woman Hater_.
In order to get a plain, unvarnished account of what took place, we
cannot do better than quote the _Courant_[70] (the only Edinburgh
morning paper which was unfavourable to the women) and the very brief
record in S. J.-B.’s diary:
“A disturbance of a very unbecoming nature took place yesterday
afternoon in front of the Royal College of Surgeons, caused by the
entrance of the lady ‘medicals’ to the class-rooms. However ungallant
it may appear, there is no doubt that many of the students look upon
the admission of the ladies to the classes with no friendly eye; but,
unfortunately for their own credit, some have adopted a very
undignified mode of signifying their displeasure. Shortly before four
o’clock, the hour when the ladies arrive at the College, nearly two
hundred students assembled in front of the gate leading to the
building. As may be readily supposed, there was no lack of animation
amongst the students; and, with other popular melodies, ‘The Whale’
and ‘John Brown’s Body’ were sung with more spirit than good taste by
at least a hundred voices. Such a noisy demonstration speedily
attracted a large crowd, and greatly interfered with the public
traffic. Shortly before four o’clock those on the outlook descried the
approach of the ladies, and immediately their appearance was greeted
with a howl which might have made those who are supposed to be
possessed of more temerity, quail, but it seemingly had no effect upon
the ladies, for they most unconcernedly advanced towards the gate, the
students opening up their ranks to allow them to pass. On reaching the
gate it was closed in their face. Amidst the derisive laughter which
followed this very questionable action, it must be said to their
credit that a number of students cried ‘shame.’ In a short time the
janitor succeeded in opening one leaf of the gate, and the ladies were
admitted to the precincts, but not before some of them had been
considerably jostled.
The anatomical class-room to which they proceeded was crowded to the
door, and, in consequence of the noise and interruption, Dr. Handyside
found it utterly impossible to begin his demonstrations. With much
difficulty, he singled out those students belonging to his class, and,
turning the others out of the room, he was about to proceed, when the
pet sheep which grazes at the College was introduced to the room, a
student jocularly remarking that it would be a good subject for
anatomical purposes. Poor ‘Mailie’ was kept a prisoner, and the
lecturer was allowed to proceed.”
Footnote 70:
The _Courant_, Nov. 19, 1870.
“Let it remain,” Dr. Handyside had said, “it has more sense than those
who sent it here.”
“When the class broke up, a number of the students seemed determined
to accompany the ladies home; but the result was that several of them
were apprehended by the police.”
The writer of the diary naturally saw things from a different point of
view:
“Friday, 18th. On getting in sight of S(urgeons’) H(all), found mob of
students and mixed multitude.
Had to go down to P.O. and to Houlden’s for Mrs. Evans [a most
characteristic touch this! in later life S. J.-B. often spoke of
herself as ‘a sheep dog grown old.’] Then crossed road, ... Mrs.
T[horne] and I in front, then Mrs. K[ingsley] and others.
Reaching pavement, way cleft for us by one or two, till gate reached
and clashed in our face, by smokers inside. I placidly leant on it
outside, mid cries of ‘Shame,’ ‘Let them in,’ etc., till Sanderson
sprang forward and forced it open and in we went,—Mrs. K. not, [she]
remaining outside to hear ‘very bad language, in which I didn’t join.’
(To S. M. M.’s great amusement.)
Then we went in and had demonstration,—some rushed in after us.
Dr. Handyside went out and remonstrated, etc. Then sheep introduced.
We passed rather good examination. Then at end H. asked if we would go
out by back door. ‘Oh, no,’ I said, ‘I am sure there are enough
gentlemen here to prevent any harm to us.’ And so we went, Hoggan and
Sanderson pioneering,—S. M. M. said she got hit,—Wilson came up and
took Mrs. K.’s arm (to our momentary fright), then we proceeded home,
escorted by
a. gallant cavaliers,
b. police,
c. general mob,
d. all boys and girls of the town.
“Monday, 21st. Had warning of a ‘more serious demonstration’, so
Wilson swore in the Irish Brigade. I asked Professor Wilson about it,
and he requested Turner to keep his class till past five,—they were
let out at 4.45![71]
Footnote 71:
One hopes this fact was incorrectly reported; it has never been
contradicted. Possibly the Professor was annoyed at being asked to
effect that by force which could safely be confided to the
gentlemanly feeling of his students.
However, it being rainy, there was almost no crowd.
“Tuesday 22nd.... The Irish Brigade filed in to demonstration, and
then escorted us home,—some 30 or 40 in all. One woman hissed. W. as
we came to crossing regretted it ‘hadn’t been swept,’ etc.—otherwise
all quiet. The O’Halloran squired E. P., called her ‘ma belle,’
declared ‘a loife wasn’t much, but all the Irishmen would lay down
theirs before we came to harm,’ etc.
And in the passage, the same mighty chief shook my hand nearly off,
vowing the pleasure it would give him and his to be any service to us,
etc., etc.
They gave us a great cheer when they got to the door.
In the crowd B. heard,—‘You know they’d never do it if they could get
married.’ ‘Eh, you‘re wrong there, there are some very good-looking
ones among them.‘ ‘Eh, now, see the students escorting them home,—
isn’t it pretty?’
And O‘Halloran’s troubles with his men. ‘For God’s sake, look after
X.! It’s his first night out, and he’ll be wanting to distinguish
himself,—he’ll be hitting a policeman!’
Altogether great ‘demonstration in favour,’ as _Daily Review_ says.
“Wednesday, 23rd. Same escort, though little necessary.”
The Wilson who swore in the Irish Brigade, has, of course, no connection
with Professor Wilson. He was a student, and remained throughout life a
loyal supporter of the cause.[72] His letter, written on the Sunday
following the riot, is interesting:
“DEAR MISS PECHEY,—I wish to warn you, and, through you, your friends,
that you are to be mobbed again on Monday. A regular conspiracy has
been, I fear, set on foot for that purpose. I wish you to tell your
friends that, although the projected demonstration against you on
Monday is intended to be much more serious than the one on Friday, and
to frighten you all away, you need not in the least fear it. I have
made what I hope to be efficient arrangements for your protection. I
have passed the word round amongst a lot of my friends—not wholly
inexperienced in the kind of work—and you will be all right.
I had a meeting with my friend, Micky O’Halloran who is leader of a
formidable band, known in College as the ‘Irish Brigade,’ and he has
consented to tell off a detachment of his set for duty on Monday.
Micky was the formidable hero with the big red moustache who stood by
us on Friday and whose presence with us rather disappointed the
rioters who, I think, calculated on the aid both of himself and his
set. I have taken care of _that_, and I believe the mere demonstration
of the fact that you have men on your side able and willing to protect
you, will deter the mob from even an attempt at a row.
They are a cowardly lot, nearly all very young, and I don’t think they
have even one amongst them, who has had experience of the days when
street-rioting was one of the accomplishments Edinburgh students were
acquainted with, so they are not likely to be very troublesome. I
believe they’ll ‘cave in’ if you only show a brave front. I have
considerable influence also with the Highlanders in College, and
expect to get a good deal of help from them, when I pass the word
round tomorrow.
May I venture to hint my belief that the real cause of the riots is
the way some of the professors run you down in their lectures. They
never lose a chance of stirring up hatred against you. For all I know
they may have more knowledge of the riotous conspiracy than most
people fancy. However, as I tell you, you and your friends need not
fear, as far as Monday is concerned. You will be taken good care of.
Yours faithfully,
ROBERT WILSON.
P.S. I would have sent this communication through Mrs. Kingsley, but
as I have no chance of seeing her tomorrow, and as you are her friend,
I send it to you.”
Footnote 72:
In January, 1886, Mr. Robert Wilson had an article, “Æsculapia
Victrix,” in the _Fortnightly Review_.
Mr. Henry Kingsley was at this time editor of the _Daily Review_, and
almost as redoubtable a champion of the cause as Alexander Russel
himself. Of Mrs. Henry Kingsley’s loyalty it is impossible to speak in
exaggerated terms. In the drawing-room, in the columns of a newspaper,
and on the platform, she was equally ready to defend a fighting cause,
and to correct the numerous misapprehensions that sprang up in
connection with it. She attended the scientific classes without any idea
of qualifying as a doctor, mainly for the purpose of identifying herself
with the movement, and with people who had her wholehearted sympathy and
admiration.
The news of the “Riot” went forth over the whole world, and the
indignation roused by the matter of the Hope Scholarship was as nothing
compared to that called forth by this escapade. “We trust the
authorities of the medical school at Edinburgh will visit exemplary
chastisement on the cowardly cads—we have no milder name for them—who
could so conduct themselves towards the ladies who paid them the
compliment of supposing they could act like gentlemen. Edinburgh has
ceased to be so attractive as she was as a centre of education.” This
was a fair specimen of the indignant criticism called forth, and one is
glad to record that none were more prompt to disown the delinquents than
the more reputable of the students themselves. Some few papers, even of
some standing, espoused the cause of the rioters; and, in order to do
this, it was perhaps almost necessary to represent the women and their
doings in a way that disgusted all decent-minded men,—“a brutality,”
said the _Spectator_, with reference to a given article, “of which a
costermonger quarrelling with a fishwife would be ashamed.”[73]
Footnote 73:
_Spectator_, December 3, 1870.
Some of us can imagine, too, the style of anonymous letter which the
women received, and such letters were rather terrible to the women of
those days.
“‘Well!—we are about in the deepest waters now,—that’s one comfort,’
says S. J.-B.”
“‘What _do_ you think your constitution is made of that it will stand
such overwork?’ writes Miss Du Pre at this time. ‘You will be a real
martyr to the cause, if you don’t take care. Yet I know you never
needlessly use up one atom of strength, so I get a fearful idea of
what the amount of work must be. I _do_ wish you could just sit down
to your lessons quietly as the men students can.
The two newspaper articles made me nicely angry! I think the —— is the
lowest, but, when you get to such a depth it is not easy to measure
degrees of lowness. I should think such attacks must make you feel as
if all people on the other side were low and mean and wicked,—don’t
they? It’s always so hard to believe that one’s opponents may be good
and honest and even sensible; but when any of them write such letters
as those, I think it must be well nigh impossible.’”
A new Act came into operation at this time, and all the Managers of the
Royal Infirmary had to retire from the Board unless re-elected. Now was
the time to get in members favourable to the admission of the women, if
this could be done. One can imagine the canvassing that took place on
both sides.
Here are some characteristic “thumb-nails” from the diary:
“Littlejohn at Police Court,—very uncomfortable talk; he so very
candid and honest, but believing he ought to vote against us in
Infirmary, because ‘by hook or by crook’ they’d got up such a spirit
among the students (L. was ‘ashamed of his sex’) that he was afraid
persistence would injure the School.
M.,—£1000 subscriber. Quiet, simple, not narrow or hard,—only not
interested previously. Said he ‘must think of it now,’ though his
prejudices were against women doctors. I showed him that that was only
a detail,—the question of justice lay beyond.
L. R.,—Had nothing to do with it, etc.,—but thought it all improper.
‘The young men in female wards?’... ‘Oh, it was _their_ business’!!”
At the Annual Meeting of Contributors on January 2nd, 1871, the hall at
the Council Chambers was crowded long before the advertised hour, though
that hour was one o’clock. Proceedings began with a hot dispute among
the civic magnates as to the propriety of adjourning to the High Church
(St. Giles’ Cathedral) which would seat a larger number of people,—the
representative of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners declaring that the
Police Court would be a more suitable place, but allowing himself to be
over-ruled on a point of law by Mr. Duncan M‘Laren, M.P. for Edinburgh.
By the time the move to the church had been effected, everyone was
“rubbed up the wrong way,” and there was a good deal of squabbling and
noisy interruption before the main question at issue came on at all.
The Lord Provost himself proposed the election of six men known to be in
favour of the women students, and an amended list was proposed by one of
the Infirmary Medical Staff. Warm language was used on both sides, and
interruptions were frequent. This was the atmosphere in which S. J.-B.—
in the capacity of a subscriber—asked leave to speak.[74]
Footnote 74:
Someone has pointed out that she was the first woman to speak in St.
Giles’ Church since Jenny Geddes threw her stool at the minister.
She was, as has been said, one of the finest women speakers of her time;
but, even in her maturity, she was wont to suffer beforehand from an
access of nervousness, of which, happily, no trace was obvious when the
crucial moment arrived. What she must have suffered on this first
occasion in Edinburgh we can imagine. We know that she was over-worked
and tired, and that her honest resentment had been raised to the highest
pitch by the way in which some of those in authority were inciting the
students to make trouble. It was deliberately said later by certain
grave and responsible Edinburgh citizens that she had suffered
“unexampled provocation.” She wished the contributors to know the real
truth of the situation, and she was resolved that the presence of her
adversaries should not deter her from giving a plain, unvarnished
account of what had taken place. She had realized the danger of failing
from cowardice; but, in her inexperience, she had not realized the
danger of going to the other extreme: and that was what she did. Part of
her speech might quite justly be described as a direct personal attack
on one or two individuals.
She spoke well, of course, but she owed her gift to Nature, in no way to
Art: and she was confronted by those—double her age and more—who had
learned the full value of outward calmness and urbanity in debate.
She had many friends in that church, and most of them must have suffered
acutely: not because they did not agree with her, but because they did.
Some whose allegiance was of little value, or who had come with “an open
mind,” probably went over to the enemy. One is almost surprised to hear
that it was only by the usual narrow majority—94 to 88 in this instance—
that her cause was defeated.
And yet, perhaps, one ought not to be surprised: for courage and honesty
make their own appeal; and the sore heart-burnings of generous adherents
are a fire in which great things are kindled.
Of course hostile papers jeered. The _Church Review_ went out of its way
to take up the matter. As it began by severely criticising on literary
grounds the speaker’s use of the words “realize” and “emanate,” one
wonders that it ever came to the end of its indictment at all.[75]
Footnote 75:
At a later date (1872) the _Church Review_ became definitely friendly.
We quote the part of the speech that was destined to lead to farther
proceedings:[76]
“I want to point out that it was certain of these same men, who had
(so to speak) pledged themselves from the first to defeat our hopes of
education and render all our efforts abortive—who, sitting in their
places on the Infirmary Board, took advantage of the almost
irresponsible power with which they were temporarily invested, to
thwart and nullify our efforts. I believe that a majority of the
managers desired to act justly in this matter; but the presence of
those bitter partisans, and the overwhelming influence of every kind
brought to bear by them, prevailed to carry the day—to refuse us not
only admission on the ordinary terms, but also to refuse us every
opportunity which could answer our purpose. I know of the noble
protests made against this injury by some of the most respected and
most learned members of the Board, but all their efforts were in vain,
because strings were pulled and weapons brought into play of which
they either did not know or could not expose the character. Till then,
during a period of five weeks, the conduct of the students with whom
we had been associated in Surgeons’ Hall, in the most trying of all
our studies, that of Practical Anatomy, had been quiet, respectful,
and in every way inoffensive. They had evidently accepted our presence
there, in earnest silent work, as a matter of course, and Dr.
Handyside, in answer to a question of mine after the speeches at the
meeting of the General Council, assured me that, in the course of some
twenty sessions, he had never had a month of such quiet earnest work
as since we entered his rooms. But at a certain meeting of the
managers when our memorial was presented, a majority of those present
were, I understand, in favour of immediately admitting us to the
Infirmary. The minority alleged want of due notice of the question,
and succeeded in obtaining an adjournment.
What means were used in the interim I cannot say, or what influence
was brought to bear; but I do know that from that day the conduct of
the students was utterly changed, that those who had hitherto been
quiet and courteous became impertinent and offensive; and at last came
the day of that disgraceful riot, when the college gates were shut in
our faces and our little band bespattered with mud from head to foot.
(“Shame.”) It is true that other students who were too manly to dance
as puppets on such ignoble strings, came indignantly to our rescue,
that by them the gates were wrenched open and we protected in our
return to our homes. But none the less it was evident that some new
influence (wholly distinct from any intrinsic facts) had been at work.
I will not say that the rioters were acting under orders, but neither
can I disbelieve what I was told by indignant gentlemen in the medical
class—that this disgraceful scene would never have happened, nor would
the petition have been got up at the same time, had it not been
clearly understood that our opponents needed a weapon at the Infirmary
Board. This I do know, that the riot was not wholly or mainly due to
the students at Surgeons’ Hall. I know that Dr. Christison’s class
assistant was one of the leading rioters—(hisses and order)—and the
foul language he used could only be excused on the supposition I heard
that he was intoxicated. I do not say that Dr. Christison knew of or
sanctioned his presence, but I do say that I think he would not have
been there, had he thought the doctor would have strongly objected to
his presence.
_Dr. Christison_—‘I must again appeal to you, my Lord. I think the
language used regarding my assistant is language that no one is
entitled to use at such an assembly as this—(hear)—where a gentleman
is not here to defend himself, and to say whether it be true or not. I
do not know whether it is true or not, but I do know my assistant is a
thorough gentleman, otherwise he never would have been my assistant;
and I appeal to you again, my Lord, whether language such as this is
to be allowed in the mouth of any person. I am perfectly sure there is
not one gentleman in the whole assembly who would have used such
language in regard to an absentee.’
_Miss Jex-Blake_—‘If Dr. Christison prefers——’
_Dr. Christison_—‘I wish nothing but that this foul language shall be
put an end to.’
_The Lord Provost_—‘I do not know what the foul language is. She
merely said that in her opinion——’
_Dr. Christison_—‘In her opinion the gentleman was intoxicated.’
_Miss Jex-Blake_—‘I did not say he was intoxicated. I said I was told
he was.’
_The Lord Provost_—‘Withdraw the word “intoxicated.”’
_Miss Jex-Blake_—‘I said it was the only excuse for his conduct. If
Dr. Christison prefers that I should say he used the language when
sober, I will withdraw the other supposition’ (laughter).”
Footnote 76:
_Scotsman_, January 3, 1871.
The _Pall Mall_,[77] chuckling sympathetically over this and another
repartee, wisely concluded:
“It is sincerely to be hoped that these unhappy little differences
will soon come to an end. It cannot be to the advantage of anyone that
lady students should be pelted with mud, or that they should use the
power of retaliation displayed by their champion at the Royal
Infirmary meeting on Monday.”
Footnote 77:
January 5, 1871.
So the conflict deepened, and it would have been small wonder if all but
the very brave had taken fright.
But Edinburgh did contain some very brave people besides the women
students.
At the meeting on January 2nd, the Revd. Professor Charteris had been
ruled out of order in some matter, but, at the earliest opportunity he
returned to his point, and brought forward a motion, expressing the
desire of the contributors that immediate arrangement should be made for
the admission of the ladies to the Infirmary. This motion, seconded by
Sir James Coxe, M.D., was lost by a small majority.
Several things happened at that meeting, however, which were of more
value to the cause than a formal victory would have been:
A petition was read, signed by 956 women of Edinburgh, expressing “our
great interest in the issues involved, and our earnest hope that full
facilities for hospital study will be afforded by the Managers to all
women who desire to enter the Medical Profession.”
More important still was the appearance of Mrs. Nichol, a well-known and
most gracious elderly lady, endowed with the very fragrance of early
Victorian womanhood, who came forward to ask a question,—“not,” she
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, if women doctors
were not allowed.”
“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 could justify their
presence in the female wards during the most delicate operations on,
and examinations of, female patients.”
Yes, there were very brave people in Edinburgh besides the women
students.
This question was received with “laughter, hisses and applause,” and no
one ventured on a reply. No one except the rougher of the students who
were assembled in the gallery on the look-out for a lark. They howled
their appreciation of the question; but it was only when S. J.-B. rose
to speak—and of course she had to pay the penalty of having rashly
described them as “puppets”—that they really let themselves go,—shouting
and yelling and pelting her with peas.
“Well,” said Professor Blackie, “ye can now say ye’ve fought with beasts
at Ephesus.”
As a matter of fact she had not meant to speak again, but one of the
professors had left her no alternative. In the course of a long speech
he had asserted that, in consequence of mixed education, a college in
America “had become so degraded that a woman who respected herself
shrank from the contamination, and preferred to renounce the benefit of
years of study rather than don the academic robe of one of its
graduates.”
“Name the college,” said S. J.-B., and other voices took up the cry of
“Name!”
“He spoke on authority.” (A voice—“What authority?”) “On the authority
of Miss Blake herself, who ... when asked why she had not pursued her
studies instead of coming here, told him that the character of female
medical students in America had so deteriorated that she could not
consent to stay.”
It cannot be easy to speak when one has awaited one’s opportunity
through a storm of hooting and pea-throwing; but now indeed S. J.-B.’s
fine courage and truthfulness shone out like the sun:
“She wished merely to give an absolute, unqualified denial to
Professor X.’s statement respecting her. She never made the statement
he asserted she had made. During her whole visit to America she had
never spent one whole session in any medical college whatever.... It
was true she had studied two years in a woman’s hospital, and every
day’s experience there had made her long more and more to see women in
charge of their own sex—(Great interruption and cries of ‘Order’)—and
it was her experience in that hospital and her knowledge of the ladies
connected with it [One can almost hear her inward cry, ‘Oh, Lucy!’]
that made her devote her life to getting medical education for herself
and also for other women.... Some of the friends she was proudest of
were women doctors in America who had been educated there entirely,
and in regard to whom she scarcely knew any equals and certainly no
superiors.”
It was only in answer to repeated calls that Professor X. rose and said,
“He was sure there was not an individual in that meeting who would not
give him credit for having given what he believed to be the correct
version of what occurred according to his recollection two years ago—
(Hisses and cheers)—between Miss Jex-Blake and himself. If he had
misconceived what had been said, or if his memory had failed him and he
had stated what was not correct, he begged to apologise, as it was
purely unintentional.” (Applause and hisses.)
A somewhat disappointing outcome this, of a long course of training in
scientific exactness.
It was now that the Professor of Moral Philosophy (Calderwood) rose,
profoundly stirred beneath the calm and judicial demeanour that seldom
failed him, and pointed out that Professor X., while speaking to the
amendment “that the question (of the women students) be left to the
unbiassed decision of the Managers,” had voluntarily given them a fair
average specimen of an unbiassed opinion!
There are worse adversaries, in fact, than the honest beasts at Ephesus.
A sore heart lay behind that jest of Professor Blackie’s if one may
judge by the following letter:
“24 Hill Street,
Edinburgh.
20th January, 1871.
MY DEAR MISS BLAKE,
It is of no consequence to you, my poor sympathy with you all at
present, and my utter horror of the conduct of your enemies; but I
wish to tell you how saddened my husband was by all he saw and heard
at the Infirmary meeting last week. He sat at tea-time shading his
eyes, and saying quietly from time to time, ‘I am ashamed of my sex.’
I never saw him so hurt before. I am sure the unmanly and indecent
conduct of these poor ill-led young men, and the untruthfulness of
their leaders will ultimately do you good. If men lose our respect and
confidence, let them look to themselves. Your admirable letters must
do great good.
Pardon this intrusion, and believe me always your true friend,
E. H. S. BLACKIE.”
No less welcome, we may be sure, was this:
Huntly Lodge,
Monday Evening.
MY DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I am feeling inexpressibly for you and your friends this
evening, and cannot resist the inclination that has come over me to
tell you how deeply grateful everyone who has the welfare of the next
generation at heart must feel to you who are so nobly fighting the
battle which must soon be gained—the _results_ of which will bear
_precious fruit_, I fully believe, long, long after even your heads
are laid in the grave.
You and the struggle you are carrying on remind me so forcibly of the
contest which the band of women in America so nobly waged with the
demon of Slavery. Your struggle will end much sooner, I trust, than
did theirs, but, whilst sympathising with you, I cannot help feeling
that the discussion is doing so much to educate people’s minds, that
it is better for the cause than if you had met with no opposition; and
in the end it may be better for you also, for by the time you are
ready to practise, persons will have become accustomed to the idea and
ready for you.
Meanwhile tell us if there is aught we outsiders can do for you, and
believe me, with love to dear Miss Pechey,
Your affectionate,
E. P. NICHOL.
I am sure you will like to know that I don’t feel a bit the worse for
this day’s work.
You will excuse haste and some little weariness.”
Once more we are tempted to quote from a delightful budget:
“13 Sussex Square,
Brighton,
Jan. 19th. 1871.
MY DEAR SOPHY,
One line to wish you many happy returns of the 21st, and most of
them quieter than this birthday seems likely to be.
I feel sure you will carry your point eventually, and should recommend
you to stick to Edinburgh where you have already so very nearly won.
It must be very harassing at times, and need a great deal of patience:
for half the enemy seem wily and half seem roughs.
The speech you last made, when the gallery ought to have been earlier
cleared of its noisy occupants, seemed to me excellent: and I thought
Maclaren showed great judgment in dealing with the adversary that same
day. I should not be drawn much into newspaper correspondence, if I
were you; and I doubt if ... was worth powder and shot. But he may be,
from personal or local reasons unknown to me.
I feel no doubt whatever of the ultimate victory, but the delay is
very fatiguing to the combatant.... Take it easy, and don’t let the
enemy make you angry. They are sure to try.
Your affectionate brother,
T. W. J.-B.”
Very soon, too, a long letter arrived from women in London,—“to the Lady
Students in Edinburgh:
“DEAR LADY STUDENTS,
Let us entreat you to persevere—” and so on.
Here then were both parties firmly entrenched, with no prospect of an
end to the combat; but that fire in the hearts of generous adherents was
burning steadily. The Lord Provost declined to accept his defeat. He
proceeded to call a meeting of citizens, and in a very short time a
committee was formed to share a burden that had become far too heavy for
the shoulders of a handful of women. The list of sympathizers grew like
a snowball, attracting many of the most honoured names in the country,
till it became a rallying cry for weaker folk the wide world over. One
can best describe the significance of all this in S. J.-B.’s own words,
written some fifteen years later:
“To the Committee thus inaugurated, we owe a debt of gratitude which I
hardly know how to describe adequately. From that time forward to the
close of our battle in Edinburgh, they stood by us with a fidelity and
chivalrous readiness to help which was never marred by officiousness
or needless interference. In a very short time they lifted from our
shoulders the whole burden of pecuniary risk and responsibility, and,
by personal and public help of every kind, made it possible for us to
continue the struggle in which, without such aid, we should have been
hopelessly outnumbered. Where so many gave us such invaluable
assistance, it is almost invidious to single out any for special
thanks; and yet I cannot refrain from putting on record our extreme
debt of gratitude to three men, of whom two have already passed away
from among us, viz., the Lord Provost of Edinburgh (William Law), who
gave us continually the support of his official countenance and
assistance; Mr. Alexander Russel, Editor of the _Scotsman_, whose
advocacy was literally beyond all price in those days, when our one
hope and our great difficulty was to get the real truth laid fully and
fearlessly before the public; and our still invaluable friend,
Professor Masson, whose championship of the weak and oppressed was
then, and always has been, worthy of the noblest days of chivalry.”