The fatigue resulting from the effort exceeding our forces, imposed by

the unsatisfactory conditions of our labor, was augmented by the

invasion of publicity. The overturn of our voluntary isolation was a

cause of real suffering for us and had all the effect of disaster. It

was serious trouble brought into the organization of our life, and I

have already explained how indispensable was our freedom from external

distraction, in order to maintain our family life and our scientific

activity. Of course, people who contribute to that kind of trouble

generally mean it kindly. It is only that they do not realize the

conditions of the problem.

In 1904 our second daughter. Eve Denise, came to us. I had, of course,

to interrupt my work in the laboratory for a while. In the same year,

because of the awarding of the Nobel prize and the general public

recognition, a new chair of physics was created in Sorbonne, and my

husband was named as its occupant. At the same time I was named chief of

work in the laboratory that was to be created for him. But in reality

the laboratory was not constructed then, and only a few rooms taken from

other uses were available to us.

In 1906 just as we were definitely giving up the old shed laboratory

where we had been so happy, there came the dreadful catastrophe which

took my husband away from me and left me alone to bring up our children

and, at the same time, to continue our work of research.

It is impossible for me to express the profoundness and importance of

the crisis brought into my life by the loss of the one who had been my

closest companion and best friend. Crushed by the blow, I did not feel

able to face the future. I could not forget, however, what my husband

used sometimes to say, that, even deprived of him, I ought to continue

my work.

The death of my husband, coming immediately after the general knowledge

of the discoveries with which his name is associated, was felt by the

public, and especially by the scientific circles, to be a national

misfortune. It was largely under the influence of this emotion that the

Faculty of Sciences of Paris decided to offer me the chair, as

professor, which my husband had occupied only one year and a half in the

Sorbonne. It was an exceptional decision, as up to then no woman had

held such a position. The University by doing this offered me a precious

mark of esteem and gave me opportunity to pursue the researches which

otherwise might have had to be abandoned. I had not expected a gift of

this kind; I never had any other ambition than to be able to work freely

for science. The honor that now came to me was deeply painful under the

cruel circumstances of its coming. Besides I wondered whether I would be

able to face such a grave responsibility. After much hesitation, I

decided that I ought at least to try to meet the task, and so I began in

1906 my teaching in the Sorbonne, as assistant professor, and two years

later I was named titular professor.

In my new situation the difficulties of my life were considerably

augmented, as I alone had now to carry the burden formerly weighing on

my husband and me together. The cares of my young children required

close vigilance; in this, my husband's father, who continued to live

with us, willingly took his share. He was happy to be occupied with the

little girls, whose company was his chief consolation after his son's

death. By his effort and mine, the children had a bright home, even if

we lived with our inner grief, which they were too young to realize. The

strong desire of my father-in-law being to live in the country, we took

a house with a garden in Sceaux, a suburb of Paris, from which I could

reach the city in half an hour.

This country life had great advantages, not only for my father-in-law,

who enjoyed his new surroundings, and especially his garden, but also

for my girls, who had the benefit of walks in the open country. But they

were more separated from me, and it became necessary to have a governess

for them. This position was filled first by one of my cousins, and then

by a devoted woman who had already brought up the daughter of one of my

sisters. Both of them were Polish, and in this way my daughters learned

my native tongue. From time to time, some one of my Polish family came

to see me in my grief, and we managed to meet in vacation time, at the

seashore in France, and once in the mountains of Poland.

In 1910 we suffered the loss of my very dear father-in-law, after a long

illness, which brought me many sorrowful days. I used to spend at his

bedside as much time as I could, listening to his remembrances of passed

years. His death affected deeply my elder daughter, who, at twelve, knew

the value of the cheerful hours spent in his company.

There were few resources for the education of my daughters in Sceaux.

The youngest one, a small child, needed principally a hygienic life,

outdoor walks and quite elementary schooling. She had already shown a

vivid intelligence and an unusual disposition for music. Her elder

sister resembled her father in the form of her intelligence. She was not

quick, but one could already see that she had a gift of reasoning power

and that she would like science. She had some training in a private

school in Paris, but I had not wanted to keep her in a lycée, as I have

always found the class hours in these schools too long for the health of

the children.

My view is that in the education of children the requirement of their

growth and physical evolution should be respected, and that some time

should be left for their artistic culture. In most schools, as they

exist to-day, the time spent in various reading and writing exercises is

too great, and the study required to be done at home too much. I also

find these schools lacking, in general, in practical exercises to

accompany the scientific studies.

With a few friends in the university circle who shared these views, we

organized, therefore, a cooperative group for the education of our

children, each of us taking charge of the teaching of a particular

subject to all of the young people. We were all very busy with other

things, and the children varied in age. Nevertheless, the little

experiment thus made was very interesting. With a small number of

classes we yet succeeded in reuniting the scientific and literary

elements of a desirable culture. The courses in science were accompanied

by practical exercises in which the children took great interest.

This arrangement, which lasted two years, proved to be very beneficial

for most of the children; it was certainly so for my elder daughter.

Following this preparation, she was able to enter a higher class in one

of the _collèges_ of Paris, and had no difficulty in passing her

bachelor's examination before the usual age, after which she continued

her scientific studies in the Sorbonne.

My second daughter, although not benefiting by a similar arrangement for

her earlier studies, at first followed the classes of a _collège_ only

partially, and later completely. She showed herself a good pupil, doing

satisfactory work in all directions.

I wanted very much to assure for my children a rational physical

education. Next to outdoor walks, I attach a great importance to

gymnastics and sports. This side of a girl's education is still rather

neglected in France. I took care that my children did gymnastics

regularly. I was also careful to have them spend vacations either in the

mountains or at the seashore. They can canoe and swim very well and are

not afraid of a long walk or a bicycle ride.

But of course the care of my children's education was only a part of my

duties, my professional occupations taking most of my time. I have been

frequently questioned, especially by women, how I could reconcile family

life with a scientific career. Well, it has not been easy; it required a

great deal of decision and of self-sacrifice. However, the family bond

has been preserved between me and my now grown-up daughters, and life is

made brighter by the mutual affection and understanding in our home,

where I could not suffer a harsh word or selfish behavior.

In 1906, when I succeeded my husband at the Sorbonne, I had only a

provisional laboratory with little space and most limited equipment. A

few scientists and students had already been admitted to work there with

my husband and me. With their help, I was able to continue the course of

research with good success.

In 1907, I received a precious mark of sympathy from Mr. Andrew

Carnegie, who donated to my laboratory an annual income for research

fellowships which enabled some advanced students or scientists to devote

their whole time to investigation. Such foundations are very encouraging

to those whose inclinations and talents are such as to warrant their

entire devotion to research work. They ought to be multiplied in the

interest of science.

As for myself, I had to devote again a great deal of time to the

preparation of several decigrammes of very pure radium chloride. With

this I achieved, in 1907, a new determination of the atomic weight of

radium, and in 1910 I was able to isolate the metal. The operation, an

extremely delicate one, was performed with the assistance of a

distinguished chemist belonging to the laboratory staff. It has never

been repeated since that time, because it involves a serious danger of

loss of radium, which can be avoided only with utmost care. So I saw at

last the mysterious white metal, but could not keep it in this state,

for it was required for further experiments.

As for the polonium, I have not been able to isolate it, its quantity in

the mineral being even much less than the quantity of radium. However,

very concentrated polonium has been prepared in my laboratory, and

important experiments have been performed with this substance,

concerning especially the production of helium by radiation of polonium.

I had to devote special care to the improvement of the measuring methods

in the laboratory. I have told how important precise measurements were

in the discovery of radium. It is still to be hoped that efficient

methods of quantitative determination may lead to new discoveries.

I devised a very satisfactory method for determining the quantity of

radium by the means of a radioactive gas produced by it and called

"emanation." This method, frequently used in my laboratory, permits of

the measurement of very small quantities of radium (less than a

thousandth of a milligramme), with a fair precision. More important

quantities are often measured by their penetrating radiation, named

Gamma-rays. For this we also possess in my laboratory a suitable

equipment. It is easier and more satisfactory to measure the radium by

the emitted rays, than to weigh it in a balance. However, these

measurements require the disposition of reliable standards. So the

question of a radium standard had to be taken into careful

consideration.

The measurements of radium had to be established on a solid basis, for

the benefit of laboratories and scientific research, which, of course,

is in itself an important reason, and moreover, the growing medical

utilization of this substance made it necessary to control the relative

purity of commercially produced radium.

The first experiments on the biological properties of radium were

successfully made in France with samples from our laboratory, while my

husband was living. The results were, at once, encouraging, so that the

new branch of medical science, called radiumtherapy (in France,

_Curietherapy_), developed rapidly, first in France and later in other

countries. To supply the radium wanted for this purpose, a

radium-producing industry was established. The first plant was created

in France and worked very successfully, but afterwards manufactures were

founded in other countries, the most important of which are now in

America, where great quantities of radium ore, named "carnotite," are

available. The radiumtherapy and the radium production developed

conjointly, and the results were more and more important, for the

treatment of several diseases, and particularly of cancer. As a

consequence of this, several institutes have been founded, in the large

cities, for the application of the new therapy. Some of these institutes

own several grammes of radium, the commercial price of the gramme being

now about $70,000, the cost of production depending on the very small

proportion of radium in the ore.

It may be easily understood how deeply I appreciated the privilege of

realizing that our discovery had become a benefit to mankind, not only

through its great scientific importance, but also by its power of

efficient action against human suffering and terrible disease. This was

indeed a splendid reward for our years of hard toil.

The success of the therapy depends, of course, on the precise knowledge

of the quantity of radium which is used, so that the measurements of

radium are as important for industry and for medicine as for

physicochemical research.

Considering all these needs, a commission of scientific men of different

countries was formed who agreed to take as a base an international

standard, formed of a carefully weighed quantity of pure radium salt.

Secondary standards were then to be prepared for each country, and

compared to the basic standard by means of their radiation. I was

appointed to prepare the primary standard.

This was a very delicate operation, as the weight of the standard

sample, quite small (about 21 milligrammes of chloride), had to be

determined with great precision. I performed the preparation in 1911.

The standard is a thin glass tube, of a few centimeters in length,

containing the pure salt which was used for the determination of atomic

weight. It was accepted by the Commission and is deposited in the

International Bureau of Weights and Measures at Sèvres, near Paris.

Several secondary standards, compared with the primary one, have been

put into service by the Commission. In France the control of radium

tubes, by the measurement of their radiation, takes place in my

laboratory, where any one may bring the radium to be tested; in the

United States this is done in the Bureau of Standards.

Near the end of the year 1910, I was proposed for the decoration of the

Légion of Honor. A similar proposal was made earlier in favor of my

husband, who, however, being opposed to all honorary distinctions, did

not accept the nomination. As my husband and I were too united in all

things for me to act differently from him in this matter, I did not

accept the decoration, in spite of the insistence of the Ministry. At

that time also, several colleagues persuaded me to be a candidate for

election to the Academy of Sciences of Paris, of which my husband was a

member during the last months of his life. I hesitated very much, as

such a candidacy requires, by custom, a great number of personal visits

to Academy members. However, I consented to offer myself a candidate,

because of the advantages an election would have for my laboratory. My

candidacy provoked a vivid public interest, especially because it

involved the question of the admission of women to the Academy. Many of

the Academicians were opposed to this in principle, and when the

scrutiny was made, I had a few votes less than was necessary. I do not

ever wish to renew my candidacy, because of my strong distaste for the

personal solicitation required. I believe that all such elections should

be based wholly on a spontaneous decision, without any personal efforts

involved, as was the case for several Academies and Societies which made

me a member without any demand or initiative on my part.

As a result of all the cares devolving on me, I fell seriously ill at

the end of 1911, when, for the second time, I received, this time alone,

the award of the Nobel prize. This was a very exceptional honor, a high

recognition of the discovery of the new elements and of the preparation

of pure radium. Suffering though I was, I went to Stockholm to receive

the prize. The journey was extremely painful for me. I was accompanied

by my eldest sister and my young daughter Irene. The ceremony of

delivery of the Nobel prizes is very impressive, having the features of

a national solemnity. A most generous reception was accorded me,

specially by the women of Sweden. This was a great comfort to me, but I

was suffering so much that when I returned I had to stay in bed for

several months. This grave illness, as well as the necessities of my

children's education, obliged me to move my home from Sceaux to Paris.

During the year 1912 I had the opportunity of collaborating in the

creation of a laboratory of radium at Warsaw. This laboratory was

founded by the Scientific Society of Warsaw which offered me its

direction. I could not leave France to go back to my native country, but

I willingly agreed to occupy myself with the organization of the studies

in the new laboratory. In 1913, having improved my health, I was able to

attend an inauguration fête in Warsaw, where a touching reception was

given, leaving me an unforgettable memory of national sentiment which

succeeded in creating useful work under particularly difficult political

conditions.

While still only partially recovered from my illness, I renewed my

efforts for the construction of a suitable laboratory in Paris. Finally

it was arranged for, and work began in 1912. The Pasteur Institute

wished to be associated with this laboratory, and, in accord with the

University, it was decided to create an Institute of Radium, with two

laboratories, one of physics and one of biology, the first to be devoted

to studies of the physical and chemical properties of the radioactive

elements, the second to the study of their biological and medical

applications. But, because of the lack of financial means, the

construction work proceeded very slowly, and was not yet entirely

finished when the war broke out in 1914.

CHAPTER III

In 1914, it happened, as it often had in other years, that my daughters

had left Paris for their summer vacation before me. They were

accompanied by their governess, in whom I had all confidence, and were

living in a small house on the seashore in Brittany, at a place where

there were also the families of several of our good friends. My work did

not generally permit me to pass the entire vacation near them without

interruption.

That year I was preparing to join them in the last days of July, when I

was stopped by the bad political news, with its premonitions of an

imminent military mobilization. It did not seem possible for me to leave

under these conditions, and I waited for further events. The

mobilization was announced on August 1st, immediately followed by

Germany's declaration of war on France. The few men of the laboratory

staff and the students were mobilized, and I was left alone with our

mechanic who could not join the army because of a serious heart trouble.

The historic events that followed are known to every one, but only those

who lived in Paris through the days of August and September, 1914, can

ever really know the state of mind in the capital and the quiet courage

shown by it. The mobilization was a general wave of all France passing

out to the border for the defense of the land. All our interest now

centered on the news from the front.

After the uncertainties of the first days this news became more and more

grave.

First, it was the invasion of Belgium and the heroic resistance of that

little country; then the victorious march of the German army through the

valley of the Oise toward Paris; and soon the departure of the French

government to Bordeaux, followed by the leaving of those Parisians who

could not, or would not, face the possible danger of German occupation.

The overloaded trains took into the country a great number of people,

mostly of the well-to-do class. But, on the whole, the people of Paris

gave a strong impression of calm and quiet decision in that fateful year

of 1914. In the end of August and the beginning of September the weather

was radiant, and under the glorious sky of those days the great city

with its architectural treasures seemed to be particularly dear to those

who remained in it.

When the danger of German attack on Paris became pressing, I felt

obliged to put in security the supply of radium then in my laboratory,

and I was charged by the government to take it to Bordeaux for safety.

But I did not want to be away long, and hence decided to return

immediately. I left by one of the trains that were carrying government

staff and baggage, and I well remember the aspect of the national

highway which is at intervals in view from the train; it showed a long

line of motor-cars carrying their owners from the capital.

Arriving at Bordeaux in the evening, I was very embarrassed with my

heavy bag including the radium protected by lead. I was not able to

carry it and waited in a public place, while a friendly ministry

employee who came by the same train managed to find a room for me in a

private apartment, the hotels being overcrowded. The next morning I

hurried to put the radium in a safe place, and succeeded, although not

without difficulty, in taking a military train back to Paris in the

evening of the same day. Having opportunity for exchanging a few

sentences with persons on the place who wanted to ask information from

people coming by the train, I was interested to notice how they seemed

surprised and comforted to learn of some one who found it natural to

return to Paris.

My trip back was troubled by delays; for several hours the train rested

immovable on the rails, while the travelers accepted a little bread from

the soldiers who were provided with it. Finally arriving in Paris, I

learned that the German army had turned; the battle of the Marne had

begun.

In Paris I shared the alternating hope and grief of the inhabitants

during the course of that great battle, and had the constant worry of

foreseeing a long separation from my children in case the Germans

succeeded in occupying the city. Yet I felt that I must stay at my post.

After the successful outcome of the battle, however, any immediate

danger of occupation being removed, I was able to have my daughters come

back from Brittany to Paris and again take up their studies. This was

the great desire of my children, who did not want to stay away from me

and from their work, even if many other families thought it wiser to

stay in the country, far from the front.

The dominant duty imposed on every one at that time was to help the

country in whatever way possible during the extreme crisis that it

faced. No general instructions to this were given to the members of the

University. It was left to each to take his own initiative and means of

action. I therefore sought to discover the most efficient way to do

useful work, turning my scientific knowledge to most profit.

During the rapid succession of events in August, 1914, it was clearly

proved that the preparation for defense was insufficient. Public feeling

was especially aroused by the realization of the grave failings which

appeared in the organization of the Health Service. My own attention was

particularly drawn to this situation, and I soon found a field of

activity which, once entered upon, absorbed the greatest part of my time

and efforts until the end of the war, and even for some time thereafter.

The work was the organization of radiologic and radiotherapeutic

services for the military hospitals. But I also had to make the change,

during these difficult war years, of my laboratory into the new building

of the Institute of Radium and to continue, in the measure possible to

me, regular teaching, as well as to investigate certain problems

especially interesting the military service.

It is well known that the X-rays offer surgeons and doctors extremely

useful means for the examination of the sick and wounded. They make

possible the discovery and the exact location of projectiles which have

entered the body, and this is a great help in their extraction. These

rays also reveal lesions of bones and of the internal organs and permit

one to follow the progress of recovery from internal injuries. The use

of the X-rays during the war saved the lives of many wounded men; it

also saved many from long suffering and lasting infirmity. To all the

wounded it gave a greater chance of recovery.

However, at the beginning of the war, the Military Board of Health had

no organization of radiology, while the civil organization was also but

little developed. Radiologic installations existed in only a small

number of important hospitals, and there were only a few specialists in

the large cities. The numerous new hospitals that were established all

over France in the first months of the war had, as a rule, no

installation for the use of X-rays.

To meet this need I first gathered together all the apparatus I could

find in the laboratories and stores. With this equipment I established

in August and September, 1914, several stations of radiology, the

operation of which was assured by volunteer helpers to whom I gave

instruction. These stations rendered great service during the battle of

the Marne. But as they could not satisfy the needs of all the hospitals

of the Paris region, I fitted up, with the help of the Red Cross, a

radiologic car. It was simply a touring motor-car, arranged for the

transport of a complete radiologic apparatus, together with a dynamo

that was worked by the engine of the car, and furnished the electric

current necessary for the production of the rays. This car could come at

the call of any of the hospitals, large or small, in the surroundings of

Paris. Cases of urgent need were frequent, for these hospitals had to

take care of the wounded who could not be transported to more distant

places.

The first results of this work showed that it was necessary to do more.

Thanks to special donations and to the help of a very efficient relief

committee called "le Patronage National des Blessés," I succeeded in

developing my initiative to a considerable extent. About two hundred

radiologic installations were established or materially improved through

my efforts in the zone of the French and Belgian armies, and in the

regions of France not occupied by the army. I was able, besides, to

equip in my laboratory and give to the army twenty radiologic cars. The

frames of these cars were donated by various persons who wished to be

helpful; some of them offered also the equipment. The cars were of the

greatest service to the army.

These privately developed installations were particularly important in

the first two years of the war, when the regular military service

possessed but few radiologic instruments. Later the Board of Health

created, little by little, a considerable radiologic service of its own,

as the utility of the stations was more clearly realized owing to the

example given by private initiative. But the needs of the armies were so

great, that my cooperation continued necessary to the end of the war,

and even afterwards.

I could not have accomplished this work without seeing for myself the

needs of the ambulance stations and hospitals. Thanks to the help of the

Red Cross and to the agreement of the Board of Health, I was able to

make several journeys to the army zones and to the other parts of

France. Several times I visited the ambulance stations of the armies of

the north and in the Belgian zone, going to Amiens, Calais, Dunkirk,

Furnes, and Poperinghe. I went to Verdun, Nancy, Luneville, Belfort, to

Compiegne, and Villers-Cotterets. In the regions distant from the front,

I took care of many hospitals which had to do very intensive work with

little aid. And I keep as a precious recollection of that time, many

letters of warm recognition from those to whom I brought help in their

difficulties.

The motive of my starting on a journey was usually a demand from

surgeons. I went with a radiologic car which I kept for my personal use.

In examining the wounded in the hospital, I could gain information of

the special needs of the region. When back in Paris, I got the necessary

equipment to meet these needs and returned to install it myself, for

very often the people on the ground could not do it. I had then to find

competent persons to handle the apparatus and show them how to do it, in

full detail. After a few days of hard toil, the manipulator knew enough

to work the apparatus himself, and at the same time a large number of

wounded had been examined. In addition, the surgeons of the region had

gained an idea of the usefulness of the radiologic examination (which

few of them knew at that time), and friendly relations were established

which made the later development of my work much easier.

On several of my trips I was accompanied by my elder daughter, Irene,

who was then seventeen years old, and, having finished her preparatory

studies, was beginning higher studies at the Sorbonne. Because she

greatly desired to be useful, she now studied nursing and learned

radiology, and did her best to help me under the most varied

circumstances. She did ambulance work at the front between Furnes and

Ypres, and also at Amiens, receiving, from the Chiefs of Service,

testimonials of work satisfactorily performed and, at the end of the

war, a medal.

Of the hospital life of those years, we keep many a remembrance, my

daughter and I. Traveling conditions were extraordinarily difficult; we

were often not sure of being able to press forward, to say nothing of

the uncertainty of finding lodgings and food. However, things always

ended in arranging themselves, thanks to our persistence and to the good

will we met. Wherever we went I had to look after each detail myself and

see innumerable military chiefs to obtain passes and permissions for

transportation. Many a time I loaded my apparatus on to the train

myself, with the help of the employees, to make sure that it would go

forward instead of remaining behind several days at the station. And on

arrival I also went to extract them from the encumbered station.

When I traveled with the radiologic car, other problems presented

themselves. I had, for instance, to find safe places for the car, to get

lodgings for the assistants and to secure the automobile accessories.

Since chauffeurs were scarce, I learned to drive the car, and did it

when necessary. Owing to all this personal supervision, my installations

were usually swiftly made, whereas appeal to the Central Health Service

was answered slowly. So the military chiefs greatly appreciated the

assistance they could get from me, especially in cases of urgent need.

We both, my daughter and myself, have pleasant and grateful memories of

the personnel of the hospitals, and were on the best terms with the

surgeons and nurses. One could not but admire these men and women who

were giving their services without counting, and whose task was often

overwhelming. Our collaboration was easy, for my daughter and I tried to

work in their spirit; and we felt that we were standing side by side

with friends.

While we were attached to the Belgian Ambulance Service, we were present

several times during visits of King Albert and Queen Elizabeth. We

appreciated deeply their devotion, their solicitude for the wounded,

their extreme simplicity, and the cordiality of their behavior.

But nothing was so moving as to be with the wounded and to take care of

them. We were drawn to them because of their suffering and because of

the patience with which they bore it. Almost everyone did his best to

facilitate the X-ray examination, notwithstanding the pain caused by any

displacement. One learned very soon to know them individually and to

exchange with them a few friendly words. Those who were not familiar

with the examination, wanted very much to be reassured about the effect

of the strange apparatus they were going to experience.

I can never forget the terrible impression of all that destruction of

human life and health. To hate the very idea of war, it ought to be

sufficient to see once what I have seen so many times, all through those

years: men and boys brought to the advanced ambulance in a mixture of

mud and blood, many of them dying of their injuries, many others

recovering but slowly through months of pain and suffering.

One of my difficult problems was to find the necessary trained

assistants to operate my apparatus. At the beginning of the war there

was little knowledge of radiology, and apparatus in the hands of those

who did not understand how to handle it deteriorated quickly and was

soon useless. The practice of radiology in most hospitals in war-time

does not require much medical knowledge; it can be sufficiently grasped

by intelligent persons who know how to study and who have some notion of

electrical machinery. Professors, engineers, or university students

often made good manipulators. I had to look for those who were

temporarily free from military service, or who happened to be stationed

in the locality where I needed them. But even after I had secured them,

these operators were often transferred by military orders, and I had to

search again for others to fill their places. For this reason, I

determined to train women to do this work.

Accordingly, I proposed to the Health Service to add a department of

radiology to the Nurses' School which had just been founded at the Edith

Cavell Hospital. This they agreed to do. And so, in 1916, the course was

organized at the Radium Institute, and provided in the following years

of war for the training of one hundred and fifty operators. Most of the

pupils who applied had only an elementary education, but could succeed

if working in a proper way. The course comprised theoretical studies and

very extended practical training; it included also some instruction in

anatomy. It was given by a few persons of good will, among them my

daughter. Our graduates formed an excellent personnel very genuinely

appreciated by the Board of Health. Theoretically, they were supposed to

serve as aides to physicians, but several of them proved capable of

independent work.

My continued and various experience in war radiology gave me a wide

knowledge of that subject, which I felt should be made more familiar to

the public. So I wrote a small book called "Radiology and the War," in

which I aimed to demonstrate the vital importance of radiology and to

compare its development during war time with its use in the previous

time of peace.

I come now to the account of the founding of the service of

radiumtherapy at the Radium Institute.

In 1915, the radium, which had been safely deposited in Bordeaux, was

brought back to Paris, and not having time for regular scientific

research, I decided to use it to cure the wounded, without, however,

risking the loss of this precious material. I proceeded to place at the

disposal of the Health Service not the radium itself, but the emanation

which can be obtained from it at regular intervals. The technique of the

use of the emanation can readily be employed in the larger radiumtherapy

institutes, and, in many ways, is more practicable than the direct use

of radium. In France, however, there was no national institute of

radiumtherapy, and the emanation was not used in hospitals.

I offered to furnish regularly to the Health Service bulbs of radium

emanation. The offer was accepted, and the "Emanation Service," started

in 1916, was continued until the end of the war and even longer. Having

no assistants, I had, for a long time, to prepare these emanation bulbs

alone, and their preparation is very delicate. Numbers of wounded and

sick, military and civil, were treated by means of these bulbs.

During the bombardment of Paris, the Health Board took special measures

to protect from shells the laboratory in which the bulbs were prepared.

Since the handling of radium is far from being free of danger (several

times I have felt a discomfort which I consider a result of this cause),

measures were taken to prevent harmful effects of the rays on the

persons preparing emanation.

While the work in connection with the hospitals remained my major

interest, I had many other preoccupations during the war.

After the failure of the German offensive in the summer of 1918, at the

request of the Italian government, I went to Italy to study the question

of her natural resources in radioactive materials. I remained a month

and was able to obtain certain results in interesting the public

authorities in the importance of this new subject.

It was in 1915 that I had to move my laboratory to the new building in

the rue Pierre Curie. This was a trying and complicated experience, for

which, once more, I had no money nor any help. So it was only between my

journeys that I was able, little by little, to do the transportation of

my laboratory equipment, in my radiologic cars. Afterwards, I had much

work in classifying and distributing my materials, and arranging the new

place in general, with the help of my daughter and of my mechanic, who,

unfortunately, was often ill.

One of my first cares was to have trees planted in the limited grounds

of my laboratory. I feel it very necessary for the eyes to have the

comfort of fresh leaves in spring and summer time. So I tried to make

things pleasant for those who were to work in the new building. We

planted a few lime trees and plane trees, as many as there was room for,

and did not forget flowerbeds and roses. I well remember the first day

of bombardment of Paris with the big German gun; we had gone, in the

early morning, to the flower-market, and spent all that day busy with

our plantation, while a few shells fell in the vicinity.

In spite of the great difficulties, the new laboratory was organized

little by little, and I had the satisfaction of having it quite ready

for the beginning of the school-year 1919-20, the period of

demobilization. In the spring of 1919, I organized special courses for

some American soldier students, who also studied with much zeal the

practical exercises directed by my daughter.

[Illustration: _Photo by U. S. Signal Corps._

Mme. Curie instructing American soldiers in her Paris laboratory.]

The entire period of the war was for me, as for many others, a period of

great fatigue. I took almost no vacation, except for a few days, now and

then, when I went to see my daughters on their holidays. My older

daughter would scarcely take any, and I was obliged to send her away

sometimes to preserve her health. She was continuing her studies in the

Sorbonne, and besides, as said before, was helping me with my war work,

while the younger daughter was still in the preparatory college. Neither

of them wished to leave Paris during the bombardment.

After more than four years of a war which caused ravages without

precedent, the armistice came at last, in the autumn of 1918, followed

by laborious efforts to reëstablish peace, which is not yet general nor

complete. It was a great relief to France to see the end of that dark

period of cruel losses. But the griefs are too recent and life still too

hard for calm and happiness yet to be restored.

Nevertheless, a great joy came to me as a consequence of the victory

obtained by the sacrifice of so many human lives. I had lived, though I

had scarcely expected it, to see the reparation of more than a century

of injustice that had been done to Poland, my native country, and that

had kept her in slavery, her territories and people divided among her

enemies. It was a deserved resurrection for the Polish nation, which

showed herself faithful to her national memories during the long period

of oppression, almost without hope. The dream that appeared so difficult

to realize, although so dear, became a reality following the storm that

swept over Europe. In these new conditions I went to Warsaw and saw my

family again, after many years of separation, in the capital of free

Poland. But how difficult are the conditions of life of the new Polish

republic, and how complicated is the problem of reorganization after so

many years of abnormal life!

In France, partly devastated and suffering from the loss of so many of

her citizens, the difficulties created by the war are not yet effaced,

and the return to normal work is being attained only gradually. The

scientific laboratories feel this state of affairs and the same

condition prevails for the Radium Institute.

The various radiologic organizations created during the war still

partially exist. The Radiographic Nurses' School has been maintained at

the request of the Board of Health. The emanation service, which could

not be abandoned, is also continued in a considerably enlarged form. It

has passed under the direction of Doctor Regaud, Director of the Pasteur

Laboratory of the Radium Institute, and is developing into a great

national service of radiumtherapy.

The work of the laboratory has been reorganized, with the return of the

mobilized personnel and the students. But in the restrained

circumstances under which the country still exists, the laboratory lacks

ways and means for its efficient development. Particularly are wanted an

independent hospital for radiumtherapy (which is called _Curietherapy_

in France), and an experimental station, outside of Paris, for

experiments on great quantities of material, such as are needed for the

progress of our knowledge of radioactive elements.

I myself am no longer young, and I frequently ask myself whether, in

spite of recent efforts of the government aided by some private

donations, I shall ever succeed in building up for those who will come

after me an Institute of Radium, such as I wish to the memory of Pierre

Curie and to the highest interest of humanity.

However, a precious encouragement came to me in the year 1921. On the

initiative of a generous daughter of the United States, Mrs. W. B.

Meloney, the women of that great American country collected a fund, the

"Marie Curie Radium Fund," and offered me the gift of a gramme of radium

to be placed entirely at my disposal for scientific research. Mrs.

Meloney invited me with my daughters to come to America and to receive

the gift, or the symbol of it, from the hands of the President of the

great republic, at the White House.

The fund was collected by a public subscription, as well by small as by

important gifts, and I was very thankful to my sisters of America for

this genuine proof of their affection. So I started for New York at the

beginning of May, after a ceremony given in my honor at the Opera of

Paris, to greet me before my departing.

I keep a grateful memory of my sojourn in the United States for several

weeks, of the impressive reception at the White House, where President

Harding addressed me in generous and affectionate words, of my visits to

the universities and colleges which welcomed me and bestowed on me their

honorary degrees, of the public reunions where I could not but feel the

deep sympathy of those who came to meet me and to wish me good luck.

[[Illustration: _Henri Manuel, Paris._

Madame Curie in her laboratory at the Institut Curie, Paris.]

I had also the opportunity of a visit to the Niagara Falls and to the

Grand Canyon, and admired immensely these marvelous creations of nature.

Unhappily, the precarious state of my health did not permit of the

complete fulfilment of the general plan established by my visit to

America. However, I saw and learned much, and my daughters enjoyed to a

full extent the opportunities of their unexpected vacation and the pride

in the recognition of their mother's work. We left for Europe at the end

of June, with the real sorrow of parting from excellent friends whom we

would not forget.

I came back to my work, made easier by the precious gift, with an even

stronger desire to carry it forward with renewed courage. But as my aims

are still wanting support in essential parts, I am frequently compelled

to give thought to a very fundamental question concerning the view a

scientist ought to take of his discovery.

My husband, as well as myself, always refused to draw from our discovery

any material profit. We have published, since the beginning, without any

reserve, the process that we used to prepare the radium. We took out no

patent and we did not reserve any advantage in any industrial

exploitation. No detail was kept secret, and it is due to the

information we gave in our publications that the industry of radium has

been rapidly developed. Up to the present time this industry hardly uses

any methods except those established by us. The treatment of the

minerals and the fractional crystallizations are still performed in the

same way, as I did it in my laboratory, even if the material means are

increased.

As for the radium prepared by me out of the ore we managed to obtain in

the first years of our work, I have given it all to my laboratory.

The price of radium is very high since it is found in minerals in very

small quantities, and the profits of its manufacture have been great, as

this substance is used to cure a number of diseases. So it is a fortune

which we have sacrificed in renouncing the exploitation of our

discovery, a fortune that could, after us, have gone to our children.

But what is even more to be considered is the objection of many of our

friends, who have argued, not without reason, that if we had guaranteed

our rights, we could have had the financial means of founding a

satisfactory Institute of Radium, without experiencing any of the

difficulties that have been such a handicap to both of us, and are still

a handicap to me. Yet, I still believe that we have done right.

Humanity, surely, needs practical men who make the best of their work

for the sake of their own interests, without forgetting the general

interest. But it also needs dreamers, for whom the unselfish following

of a purpose is so imperative that it becomes impossible for them to

devote much attention to their own material benefit. No doubt it could

be said that these idealists do not deserve riches since they do not

have the desire for them. It seems, however, that a society well

organized ought to assure to these workers the means for efficient

labor, in a life from which material care is excluded so that this life

may be freely devoted to the service of scientific research.

CHAPTER IV

A VISIT TO AMERICA

My beautiful voyage to the United States of America resulted, as is

known, from the generous initiative of an American woman, Mrs. Meloney,

editor of an important magazine, the _Delineator_, who, having planned

the gift of a gramme of radium to me by her countrywomen, succeeded in a

few months in bringing this plan to execution, and asked me to come over

and receive the gift personally.

The idea was that the gift would come exclusively from the American

women. A committee including several prominent women and distinguished

scientific men received some important gifts, and made an appeal for a

public subscription, to which a great number of women's organizations,

especially colleges and clubs, responded. In many cases gifts came from

persons who had experienced the benefit of radiumtherapy. In this way

was collected the "Marie Curie Radium Fund" of more than one hundred

thousand dollars for the purchase of a gramme of radium. The President

of the United States, Mr. Harding, kindly agreed to deliver the gift in

a ceremony at the White House.

The Committee invited me and my daughters to the United States in May,

and even though it was not vacation time for me, I accepted the

invitation with the consent of the University of Paris.

All care of the voyage was taken away from me. Mrs. Meloney came to

France in time to be present at a manifestation organized on the 28th of

April in favor of the Radium Institute of Paris by the magazine _Je Sais

Tout_, and accompanied by sincere expressions of sympathy for the

American nation. On May 4th, we took passage at Cherbourg on the

_Olympic_ for New York.

The program of my voyage prepared by the Committee seemed very

intimidating. It was announced that I would not only attend the ceremony

at the White House, but also visit many universities and colleges in

several towns. Some of these institutions had contributed to the Fund;

all desired to offer me honors. The vitality and the activity of the

American nation produces programs on a large scale. On the other hand,

the wideness of the country has developed in American citizens the

custom of long travel. But during all that travel I was protected with

the greatest care, in order to lighten as far as possible the inevitable

fatigue of the voyage and the receptions. America not only gave me a

generous welcome, but also true friends whom I could not thank enough

for their kindness and their devotion.

After having admired the grand view of the harbors of New York, and

having been greeted by groups of students, Girl Scouts, and Polish

delegates, and welcomed by many gifts of flowers, we took possession of

a peaceful apartment in town. The following day I made the acquaintance

of the Reception Committee at a luncheon given by Mrs. Carnegie in her

beautiful home still filled with memories of her husband, Andrew

Carnegie, whose philanthropic achievements are well known in France. The

following day we went for a visit of a few days to Smith College, and

Vassar College, a few hours from New York. Later I also visited the

colleges of Bryn Mawr and Wellesley, and I saw some others on my way.

These colleges, or universities for women, are very characteristic of

American life and culture. My short visit could not permit me to give an

authorized opinion on the intellectual training, but even in such a

visit as I made one may notice important differences between the French

and American conception of girls' education, and some of these

differences would not be in favor of our country. Two points have

particularly drawn my attention: the care of the health and the physical

development of the students, and the very independent organization of

their life which allows a large degree of individual initiative.

The colleges are excellent in their construction and organization. They

are composed of several buildings, often scattered in very large grounds

between lawns and trees. Smith is on the shore of a charming river. The

equipment is comfortable and hygienic, of extreme cleanliness, with

bathrooms, showers, distribution of cold and hot water. The students

have cheerful private rooms and common gathering rooms. A very complete

organization of games and sports exists in every college. The students

play tennis and baseball; they have gymnasium, canoeing, swimming, and

horseback riding. Their health is under the constant care of medical

advisers. It seems to be a frequent opinion of American mothers that the

existing atmosphere of cities like New York is not favorable to the

education of young girls, and that a life in the country in the open air

gives more suitable conditions for the health and the tranquillity of

studying.

In every college the young girls form an association and elect a

committee which has to establish the internal rules of the college. The

students display a great activity: they take part in educational work;

they publish a paper; they are devoted to songs and music; they write

plays, and act them in college and out of it. These plays have

interested me very much in their subjects and the execution. The

students are also of different social conditions. Many of them are of

wealthy families, but many others live on scholarships. The whole

organization may be considered as democratic. A few students are

foreigners, and we have met some French students very well pleased with

the college life and the studies.

Every college takes four years of study with examinations from time to

time. Some students afterwards do personal work, and acquire the degree

of Doctor, which does not exactly correspond to the same title in

France. The colleges have laboratories with many good facilities for

experimentation.

I have been strongly impressed by the joy of life animating these young

girls and expanding on every occasion, like that of one of my visit. If

the ceremonies of the reception were performed in a nearly military

order, a spontaneity of youth and happiness expressed itself in the

songs of greeting composed by the students, in the smiling and excited

faces, and in the rushing over the lawns to greet me at my arrival. This

was indeed a charming impression which I could not forget.

Back in New York, several ceremonies awaited me before my leaving for

Washington. A luncheon of the Chemists, a reception at the Museum of

Natural History and the Mineralogical Club, a dinner at the Institute of

Social Sciences, and a great meeting at Carnegie Hall, where many

delegations represented the faculties and students of women's colleges

and universities. At all these receptions I was greeted in warm

addresses by prominent men and women, and I received honors very

precious to me because of the sincerity of the givers. Neither has the

part of national friendships been forgotten; the address of

Vice-President Coolidge was a noble recognition of the past where French

and Polish citizens have been helpful to the young American Republic,

and is also a statement of fraternity strengthened by the tempest of the

last years.

It was in this atmosphere of affection created by the convergence of

intellectual and social sympathies that there took place on May 20th the

beautiful ceremony at the White House. It was a deeply moving ceremony

in all its simplicity, occurring before a democratic gathering including

the President and Mrs. Harding, cabinet officers, Judges of the Supreme

Court, high officers of Army and Navy, foreign diplomats,

representatives of women's clubs and societies, and prominent citizens

of Washington and other cities. It comprised a short presentation by the

French ambassador, M. Jusserand, a speech by Mrs. Meloney for the

American women, the address of President Harding, a few words of

gratitude said by me, a defile of the guests, and a group picture for a

souvenir, all this in the admirable setting of the White House, peaceful

and dignified, white indeed between its green lawns with wide prospects

on that beautiful afternoon of May. A remembrance never to be forgotten

was left by this reception in which the chief representative of a great

nation offered me homage of infinite value, the testimonial of the

recognition of his country's citizens.

The address of the President had been inspired by the same sentiments as

that of Vice-President Coolidge, as far as concerned his appreciation of

France and Poland. This address gave also an expression of the American

feeling which was emphasized by an exceptional solemnity in the

delivering of the gift.

[Illustration: _Copyright International._

Mme. Curie and President Harding at the White House, May 20, 1921, when

a gram of radium was presented to its discoverer by the women of

America.]

The American nation is generous, and always ready to appreciate an

action inspired by considerations of general interest. If the discovery

of radium has so much sympathy in America, it is not only because of its

scientific value, and of the importance of medical utilization; it is

also because the discovery has been given to humanity without

reservation or material benefits to the discoverers. Our American

friends wanted to honor this spirit animating the French science.

The radium itself was not brought to the ceremony. The President

presented me with the symbol of the gift, a small golden key opening the

casket devised for the transportation of the radium.

Our sojourn at Washington following the principal ceremony included a

very agreeable reception at the French Embassy and the Polish Legation,

a reception at the National Museum, and some laboratory visits.

The itinerary of our journey from Washington included visits to the

cities of Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Buffalo, Boston, and New

Haven, a visit to the Grand Canyon, and to Niagara Falls. On that trip I

was the guest of several universities which did me the honor of

bestowing honorary degrees on me. I have to thank for these the

universities of Pennsylvania, of Pittsburgh, of Chicago, the

Northwestern University, Columbia University, Yale University, the

Women's Medical College of Pennsylvania, the University of Pennsylvania,

Smith College, and Wellesley College, while I thank Harvard University

for her reception.

The delivery of honorary degrees in American universities is accompanied

by solemnities. In principle, the presence of the candidate is required,

and the delivery takes place at the annual commencement, but, in some

cases, special ceremonies were organized in my favor. The university

ceremonies in America are more frequent than in France, and play a more

important part in the university life. Especially is this true at the

annual commencement, which begins with an academic procession over the

grounds of the university, the procession including the officials, the

professors, and graduates in academic caps and gowns. Afterwards all

assemble in a hall where are announced the diplomas corresponding to the

grades of bachelor, master, and doctor. There is always a musical part

in the program, and addresses are delivered by the officials of the

university or invited orators. These addresses are naturally devoted to

dignifying the ideals and the humanitarian purposes of education; but in

certain cases it seems permitted to introduced point of American humor.

These ceremonies are on the whole very impressive, and certainly

contribute to keep a bond between the university and the alumni. This is

a favorable circumstance for those great American universities which are

sustained entirely on private foundations. It is only in more recent

times that most States have created universities supported by the State.

At Yale University I had the pleasure of representing the University of

Paris at the inauguration of President Angell, fourteenth president of

the University. I was also pleased to attend at Philadelphia a meeting

of the American Philosophical Society and a meeting of the College of

Physicians, and at Chicago a meeting of the American Chemical Society at

which I delivered a lecture on the Discovery of Radium. The medals of

John Scott, Benjamin Franklin, and Willard Gibbs have been presented to

me by these societies.

Several meetings organized in my honor by the American women's

organizations have particularly interested the American public. I have

already mentioned the meeting of the University Women at Carnegie Hall

of New York; a similar meeting was held at Chicago, where I was also

received by the Association of Polish Women. I was also greeted by

women's organizations in the Carnegie Institute of Pittsburgh, and by a

delegation of Canadian university women at Buffalo. In all these

meetings it was impossible not to recognize the sincerity of the emotion

in the women who gave me their best wishes, at the same time expressing

their confidence in the future of feminine intelligence and activity. I

did not feel any opposition between these feministic aspirations and the

masculine opinion. As far as I could notice, the men in America approve

of these aspirations and encourage them. This is a very favorable

condition for the social activity of the American women which reveals

itself in a strong interest in work for education, for hygiene, and for

the improvement of conditions of labor. But any other unselfish purpose

may rely on their support, as is proved by the success of Mrs. Meloney's

plan, and by the sympathy this plan encountered in women of all social

conditions.

I could not, to my deep regret, give time enough to the visit to

laboratories and scientific institutes. These too brief visits were of

great interest to me. I found everywhere the greatest care for

developing scientific activity and for improving the facilities. New

laboratories are in building, and in older laboratories very modern

equipment may be found. The available room never gives that impression

of insufficiency from which we suffer too often in France. The means are

provided by private initiative expressed in gifts and foundations of

various kinds. There exists also a National Council of Research

established by private funds for stimulating and improving scientific

work, and for assuring its connection with industry.

I have visited with special interest the Bureau of Standards, a very

important national institution at Washington for scientific measurements

and for study connected with them. The tubes of radium presented to me

were at the Bureau, whose officials had kindly offered to make the

measurements, and to take care of the packing and delivery to the ship.

A new laboratory has been created at Washington for researches on very

low temperatures with the use of liquid hydrogen and liquid helium. I

had the honor of dedicating this laboratory to its service.

I had the great pleasure of meeting in their laboratories several very

important American scientific men. The hours I spent in their company

are among the best of my travel.

The United States possesses several hospitals for radiumtherapy. These

hospitals are generally provided with laboratories for the extraction of

radium emanation which is sealed up in small tubes for medical use.

These institutions own important quantities of radium, have a very good

equipment, and treat a great number of patients. I have visited some of

them, and this made me feel more deeply, if possible, the regret of not

having in France even one national institute capable of rendering the

same services. I hope that this lack will be filled in the near future.

The industry of radium has been started in France, but it is in America

that it has had its greatest development, owing to the presence of a

sufficient supply of the ore carnotite.[15] I was very much interested

in my visit to the most important of the factories, and I gladly

recognize the spirit of initiative in this undertaking. The factory owns

a collection of documentary films which enable one to appreciate the

effort made each day in collecting the ore scattered in the immense

fields of Colorado, in carrying and concentrating this ore originally

very poor in radium. On the other hand, the means of extraction of

radium are still the same which have been described in earlier chapters.

The greatest courtesy was paid me in my visit to the radium plant and

laboratory. I found the same reception at a factory of mesothorium which

presented me with some material, and where the officials expressed the

desire to help in my scientific work.

To make complete these travel impressions it would be necessary to speak

of the nature of the country. I recoil before the task, being incapable

of expressing in a few words the immensity and the variety of the spaces

which opened before my eyes. The general impression is one of unlimited

possibilities for the future. I keep a particularly vivid remembrance of

the great falls of Niagara, and of the magnificent colors of the Grand

Canyon.

On June 28th I embarked in New York on the same ship which had brought

me to the United States less than two months before. I would not take

the liberty, after so short a period of time, of giving an opinion on

America and the Americans. I would only say how deeply I have been

touched by the warm reception which was tendered everywhere to me and my

daughters. Our hosts wanted to make us feel that we were not with

strangers; and, on the other hand, many of them assured me that they

felt in entirely friendly surroundings when on the soil of France. I got

back to France with a feeling of gratitude for the precious gift of the

American women, and with a feeling of affection for their great country

tied with ours by a mutual sympathy which gives confidence in a peaceful

future for humanity.

[Footnote 15: Quite recently there has been started near Anverst an

important radium industry as a result of the discovery of uranium ore in

the Belgian Congo.]

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