A WOMAN’S QUEST
THE LIFE OF MARIE E. ZAKRZEWSKA, M.D.
EDITED BY
AGNES C. VIETOR, M.D., F.A.C.S.
FORMERLY INSTRUCTOR IN PHYSICAL DIAGNOSIS AND SURGERY, WOMAN’S
MEDICAL COLLEGE OF THE NEW YORK INFIRMARY; LATER ASSISTANT
SURGEON, NEW ENGLAND HOSPITAL FOR WOMEN
AND CHILDREN, BOSTON
[Illustration]
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK :: LONDON :: MCMXXIV
COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
[Illustration: MARIE E. ZAKRZEWSKA, M.D.
(From a photograph thought to have been taken some time in the ’60’s.)]
MARIE E. ZAKRZEWSKA, M.D. (1829-1902)
_Accoucheuse en chef, Royal Hospital Charité, Berlin, Prussia; First
Resident Physician, New York Infirmary for Women and Children, New
York; Professor of Obstetrics and Diseases of Women and Children, and
Founder and Attending Physician of the Clinical Department (Hospital),
New England Female Medical College, Boston; Founder and First
Attending Physician, New England Hospital for Women and Children,
Boston._
DEDICATED TO
THE DEAR MEMORY OF A FRIEND
ELIZABETH BIGELOW CONANT
FOREWORD
Viewed impersonally, this story of Marie E. Zakrzewska (Zak-shef’ska)
is one more document testifying to the Humanity of Woman. The fact that
the individual urge for the expression of this humanity found vent
along the line of Medicine, is a detail. It is also a detail that the
story is interwoven with an interesting transitional period in American
history and with the evolution of the American woman physician.
The essential interest lies in the fundamental human instinct asserting
itself through the individual woman, dominating her and driving her
to reach out into the world until, after migrations over thousands of
miles and through various phases of civilization, she at last found an
environment favorable for the development which her spirit so ardently
demanded.
Eventually stretching across the Atlantic Ocean, this Polish-German
branch of the Human Tree pushed through first one crevice and then
another, with here and there a struggling blossoming and leafage, to
find at last its best efflorescence and fruitage in the favoring sun
and air of America.
Transplanted here, as are all the nations of mankind, her life finally
found fulfillment through the creation of the New England Hospital for
Women and Children, and though the influence which she exerted upon
the lives of the numbers of women medical students, women physicians,
women surgeons, and women nurses who have there, in turn, been helped
to develop and to express _their_ Humanity.
Stopping on her way to help in the birth of the _first_ true
“Woman’s Hospital” in the history of the world (the New York Infirmary
for Women and Children), to develop the short-lived _second_
(Clinical Department of the New England Female Medical College), and to
assist in the conception of the _third_ (the Woman’s Hospital of
Philadelphia), her life reached its fullest expression in the evolution
of the _fourth_ (the New England Hospital for Women and Children).
Thus in no ordinary sense do the life and personality of Doctor
Zakrzewska endure in America, and especially in Boston. Thence the
inspiration of her life has extended throughout New England; throughout
the United States; back across the Atlantic to Europe; and across the
Pacific to the Orient.
Is there, then, any part of the earth reached by educated medical women
where her living spirit does not penetrate, that unconquerable spirit
made manifest through her unchanging ideal--reasoned human standards
for women as for men.
It is a common habit of our people to abbreviate long or unfamiliar
words and the American populace so generally declined to apply itself
to the complete pronunciation of the word _Zakrzewska_ that the
name was characteristically shortened to the first syllable. Hence,
“Doctor Zak” became the more familiar title, first of convenience and
then of that personal and unceremonious aptitude for appropriation
which we as a people display toward those whom we regard with
admiration and affection.
The material for this biography was given to the editor by Dr.
Zakrzewska to prepare for publication with what might be called one
condition, and this has now been fulfilled. Circumstances which the
editor could not control, and which it is unnecessary to discuss
here, have delayed its appearance until now. The earlier chapters are
autobiographical and most of them were written in the form of a letter
to Miss Mary L. Booth, of New York, and were published in 1860 by
Mrs. Caroline H. Dall under the title of “A Practical Illustration of
‘Woman’s Right to Labor’; or A Letter from Marie E. Zakrzewska, M.D.,
late of Berlin, Prussia.”
Finally, the editor desires to express her appreciation of the
assistance rendered by Miss Anne Sullivan, her secretary and synergetic
critic.
AGNES C. VIETOR
CONTENTS
PART I
(1829-1862)
CHAPTER PAGE
BERLIN
FOREWORD ix-xi
I. Some recollections of childhood 3-7
II. School life begins 8-15
III. First knowledge of hospitals and reading
of medical books 16-19
IV. School life ends 20-25
V. Learns all details of household work;
then spends most of her time reading
in her father’s library; drifts
into assisting her mother, who has
become a trained midwife 26-34
VI. After regular course receives diploma
from School for Midwives and becomes
assistant teacher in the Royal
Hospital Charité 35-45
VII. Is appointed _Accoucheuse en chef_ and
succeeds Dr. Schmidt as teacher of
midwifery 46-54
VIII. Resigns her position 55-65
IX. Decides to go to America to help
establish a woman’s hospital, her
thoughts turned to Philadelphia 66-72
NEW YORK
X. Impressions and experiences on landing--Unable
to go to Philadelphia
or to establish a practice in New
York, she builds up a business in
fancy goods 73-91
XI. Social relations 92-98
XII. Meets Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell 99-106
XIII. Goes to Cleveland Medical School to
acquire the title of M.D. 107-119
CLEVELAND
XIV. Difficulties encountered by women
medical students in Cleveland,
Philadelphia, Boston, Edinburgh
(Scotland) 120-131
XV. Dr. Harriot K. Hunt’s attempt to
study at Harvard Medical School
and her practice in Boston 132-143
XVI. First visit to Boston--Meets many
noted men and women 144-158
XVII. An interesting week-end near Cleveland--Meets
Ralph Waldo Emerson--Receives
the degree of M.D. 159-175
NEW YORK
XVIII. Impossible for a woman physician to
rent an office or to be admitted for
study to a hospital or dispensary--Visits
Boston to ask money to
open the New York Infirmary for
Women and Children--Visit to
Philadelphia determines the building
of the Woman’s Hospital there 176-194
XIX. Frequent guest at the variety of social
“circles” then existing in New
York 195-208
XX. Opening of the New York Infirmary
wards and dispensary, with Dr.
Zakrzewska as resident physician
and superintendent--Mobbing of
the Infirmary following death of a
patient 209-219
XXI. Incident of Dr. J. Marion Sims--Second
mobbing of the Infirmary--First
attempt at establishing a
training school for nurses 220-234
BOSTON
XXII. Removes to Boston to become professor
of obstetrics in the New England
Female Medical College and
to establish a hospital department 235-242
XXIII. Meets opposition in her attempts to
elevate the standards of the college 243-258
XXIV. Her “Introductory Lecture” 259-270
XXV. Refused admission to Massachusetts
Medical Society because she is a
woman--Militant ostracism of
women by Philadelphia County
Medical Society, which tries to
crush the Woman’s Medical College
of Pennsylvania--She insists medical
students must be trained practically
as well as theoretically--Continuing
unable to elevate the
standards of the college, she resigns
from the faculty and the hospital
is discontinued 271-287
PART II
(1862-1902)
CHAPTER PAGE
XXVI. Founding of the New England Hospital
for Women and Children,
with Dr. Zakrzewska as first resident
and attending physician 291-298
XXVII. Letters to her first Boston student,
Dr. Lucy E. Sewall 299-313
XXVIII. Two stories illustrating her broad
common sense methods of studying
and treating patients 314-327
XXIX. Incident of Dr. Horatio R. Storer, the
only man ever appointed on the attending
staff--For the first time in
America the name of a woman is
listed officially as specializing in
surgery, Dr. Anita E. Tyng being
appointed assistant surgeon 328-344
XXX. Land bought in Roxbury for new
Hospital buildings--Dr. Helen
Morton--Sophia Jex-Blake 345-355
XXXI. New Hospital buildings completed--First
general Training School for
Nurses in America definitely organized--Dr.
Susan Dimock--First
Hospital Social Service in America
organized in connection with the
Maternity 356-365
XXXII. Dr. Zakrzewska goes to Europe for
her first vacation in fifteen years--Dr.
C. Annette Buckel 366-372
XXXIII. Attempts by Dr. Zakrzewska and the
other leading pioneer medical
women to keep the educational
standard for medical women from
being lowered--Opening of the
Woman’s Medical College of the
New York Infirmary--Movement
to open to women one of the great
medical schools for men, with special
reference to Harvard 373-387
XXXIV. Opening of the Massachusetts Medical
Society to women--Dr. Zakrzewska
declines to present herself a third
time for admission after having
been twice refused because she was
a woman 388-397
XXXV. Association for the Advancement of
the Medical Education of Women--Dr.
Mary Putnam Jacobi--The
New England Hospital establishes
District Nursing in its out-practice--Dr.
Zakrzewska leads another attempt
to persuade Harvard to admit
women to its medical school 398-415
XXXVI. Dr. Zakrzewska replies to the question,
“Should Women Study Medicine?”--Her
Opinion on “What’s
in a Name?” 416-434
XXXVII. Johns Hopkins becomes the first great
medical school in America to admit
women on the same terms as men--The
New England Hospital adds
new buildings for the Maternity
and for Nurses--Because of misbehavior
of men students Columbian
University of Georgetown closes
its doors to women--Dr. Zakrzewska
writes on “The Emancipation
of Women: Will It Be a Success?” 435-446
XXXVIII. Dr. Zakrzewska’s attitude as a critic:
her judgment on various details of
Hospital policy 447-456
XXXIX. Her private life; her home; her
friends; her ethics--Men physicians
who served as consultants at
the New England Hospital 457-467
XL. The New England Hospital adds new
buildings for the Dispensary and
for the Surgical department--Celebration
of Dr. Zakrzewska’s seventieth
birthday by a reception and
by the naming of the original main
building “The Zakrzewska Building”--Her
retirement from practice--Her
failing health--Her
characteristic acceptance of the inevitable--Her
death--Her funeral
service--Her farewell message 468-478
AFTERWORD 479-482
NOTES 483-498
BIBLIOGRAPHY 499
INDEX 501-514
ILLUSTRATIONS
Portrait of Marie E. Zakrzewska, M.D.
(From a photograph thought to have been
taken some time in the ’60’s) _Frontispiece_
Second location of the New England Hospital
for Women and Children, Boston Page 331
Portrait of Marie E. Zakrzewska, M.D.
(From a photograph taken about 1870) 352
First buildings of the New England Hospital
for Women and Children, erected 1872 (third
location) 357
Portrait of Marie E. Zakrzewska, M.D.
(From a photograph taken in 1896) 468
PART I
(1829-1862)
CHAPTER I
_Her reason for writing autobiography, to encourage average woman to
determine and decide for herself to do whatever she can--Polish-German
ancestry--Childhood in Berlin--Recollection of experience when
nineteen months old--Walks nine miles when twenty-six months old.
(Birth to five years of age: 1829-1834.)_
I am not a great personage, either through inherited qualifications or
through the work that I have to show to the world; yet you may find,
in reading this little sketch, that with few talents and very moderate
means for developing them, I have accomplished more than many women of
genius and education would have done in my place, for the reason that
confidence and faith in their own powers were wanting.
And for this reason I know that this story may be of use to others, by
encouraging those who timidly shrink from the field of action, though
endowed with all that is necessary to enable them to come forth and do
their part in life.
The fact that a woman of no extraordinary powers can make her way, by
the simple determination that whatever she can do she will do, must
inspire those who are fitted to do much, yet who do nothing because
they are not accustomed to determine and decide for themselves.
I do not intend to weary you with details of my childhood, as I think
that children are generally very uninteresting subjects of conversation
to any except their parents, who naturally discover what is beautiful
and attractive in them and appreciate what is said that corresponds to
their own feelings. I shall therefore tell you only a few facts of this
period of my life, which I think absolutely necessary to illustrate my
character and nature.
I was born in Berlin, Prussia, on the 6th of September, 1829; and am
the eldest of a family of five sisters and one brother.[1]
[1] The figures throughout the text refer to corresponding numbers in
Notes, pages 483 to 498.
My early childhood passed happily, though heavy clouds of sorrow and
care at times overshadowed our family circle. I was of a cheerful
disposition, and was always in good humor, even when sick. I was quiet
and gentle in all my amusements. My chief delight consisted in telling
stories to my sister, one year younger than myself. She was always
glad to listen to these products of my imagination, which were wholly
original, for no stories were told me, nor had I any children’s books.
My heroes and heroines were generally distinguished for some mental
peculiarity--as kind or cruel, active or indolent--which led them into
all sorts of adventures till it suited my caprice to terminate their
career.
In all our little affairs I took the lead, planning and directing
everything; and my playmates seemed to take it for granted that it was
their duty to carry out my commands.
My memory is remarkable in respect to events that occurred at this
time, but it always fails to recall dates and names.
When twenty years of age, I asked my father what sort of a festival he
took me to once, in company with a friend of his who had only one arm.
We walked through meadows where daisies were blossoming in millions and
rode in carriages that went round continually until they were wound up.
My father answered, with much surprise, that it was a public festival
of the cabinet-makers, which was celebrated in a neighboring village,
and that I was, at that time, only nineteen months old. He was so much
interested in my story that I related another of my memories.
One dark morning, my mother wakened me and hastened my dressing. After
this was accomplished, she handed me a cup of something which I had
never tasted before and which was as disagreeable as was asafœtida in
later years. This was some coffee which I had to take instead of my
usual milk.
Then I went with my father to the large park called “The Thiergarten,”
where we saw the sun rise. I began to spring about, looking at the
big oaks which seemed to reach into the heavens, or stooping down to
pluck a flower. Birds of all kinds were singing in chorus, while the
flower-beds surrounding the statue of Flora scented the pure morning
air with the sweetest of perfumes.
The sun ascended meanwhile, from the edge of a little pond covered with
water-lilies. I was intoxicated with joy. The feeling of that morning
is as fresh to-day as when I related this to my father. I know I
walked till I got fairly tired, and we reached a solitary house beyond
the park.
Probably fatigue took entire possession of me, for I remember nothing
more till we were on our way home and the sun was setting. Then I
begged for some large yellow plums which I saw in the stores. My father
bought some, but gave me only a few. I had a desire for all and stole
them secretly from his pockets, so that when we reached home, I had
eaten them all.
I was sick after I went to bed, and remember taking some horrible stuff
the next morning (probably rhubarb), thus ending the day which had
opened so poetically in rather a prosaic manner.
When I repeated this, my parents laughed and said that I was only
twenty-six months old when my father’s pride in his oldest child
induced him to take me on this visit, and that I walked the whole
way--a distance of about _nine miles_.
These anecdotes are worth preserving only because they indicate an
impressionable nature and great muscular endurance.
It is peculiar that between these two events and a third which occurred
a year after, everything should be a blank.
A little brother was then born to me, and he lay undressed upon a
cushion, while my father cried with sobs. I had just completed my third
year and could not understand why, the next day, this little thing was
carried off in a black box. From that time I remember almost every
day’s life.
I very soon began to manifest the course of my natural tendencies. Like
most little girls I was well provided with dolls, and on the day after
a new one came into my possession I generally discovered that the dear
little thing was ill and needed to be nursed and doctored.
Porridges and teas were accordingly cooked on my little toy stove,
and administered to the poor doll until the _papier mâché_ was
thoroughly saturated and broken, when she was considered dead and
preparations were made for her burial--this ceremony being repeated
over and over again.
White dresses were put on for the funeral; a cricket was turned upside
down to serve as the coffin; my mother’s flower pots furnished the
green leaves for decoration; and I delivered the funeral oration in
praise of the little sufferer while placing her in the tomb improvised
of chairs.
I hardly ever joined the other children in their plays except upon
occasions like these, when I appeared in the characters of doctor,
priest and undertaker; generally improving the opportunity to moralize,
informing my audience that Ann (the doll) had died in consequence of
disobeying her mother by going out before she had recovered from the
measles, etc.
Once I remember moving my audience to tears by telling them that little
Ann had been killed by her brother who, in amusing himself with picking
off the dry skin after she had had the scarlatina, had carelessly torn
off the real skin over the heart, as they could see; thus leaving it to
beat in the air and causing the little one to die. This happened after
we had all had the scarlatina.