Another branch of work taken up by women in some of our cities is the

owning and hiring of tenement houses, for the purpose of improving the

houses and thereby serving the tenants and the public. This is done both

by individuals, who undertake the oversight of the houses and the

collecting of rents themselves (following the example of Miss Octavia

Hill in London), and by associations such as the Co-operative Building

Association of Boston, which is a joint stock company of men and women,

who buy and build houses and oversee their property by means of

committees of their own number. The object is to raise the standard of

the houses for working people in any given locality, and also to show

that such houses, when managed for the benefit of the tenants, may be

made to pay a fair return to the owners. This work seems peculiarly

fitting for women, who carry sympathy and conscience into their business

relations.

Indeed, the work of women seems to be unending, and it is impossible to

compute its value. The only feeling evoked by the study of the reports

of what is going on all over the country is that of deep gratitude, and

of regret that the whole cannot be spread out for the encouragement and

inspiration of others, and that so meager an account as this must

suffice.

It is strange to remember that all this activity has had its rise in

less than a hundred years. The simple story of the first organized

charitable work ever done, so far as we know, by women in this country

is thus told in an account of the “Female Society of Philadelphia for

the Relief and Employment of the Poor:”

“It will be remembered that in the year 1793, the yellow fever made an

awful and depopulating visitation to our city, and those who were spared

its ravages were left in much distress. Anne Parish, and some other

young women, having devoted considerable time and strength in relieving

the sufferers, felt called upon to continue their labors when the deadly

scourge had passed, as the following minutes, the first on the books,

will show:

“‘A number of young women, having been induced to believe from

observations they have made that they could afford some assistance to

their suffering fellow-creatures, particularly _widows_ and _orphans_,

by entering into a subscription for their relief, visiting them in their

solitary dwellings without distinction of nation or color, sympathizing

in their afflictions, and, as far as their ability extends, alleviating

them, have for this purpose associated together. Their views being

humble and funds inconsiderable, yet seeking neither honor nor applause,

they only ask a blessing on their feeble efforts, sensible of the

obligations they are under to an Almighty Giver for the comforts they

enjoy, are desirous of making a grateful acknowledgment by endeavoring

to adopt the precept He taught, to visit the sick, feed the hungry, and

clothe the naked. They propose to nominate a treasurer, to appoint a

committee to visit the poor, and discover their necessities either for

immediate relief, or to give them employment.’”

This was in 1795, and it was this same young Quaker woman, Anne Parish,

who, in that, or the following year, believing that “ignorance was one

great cause of vice and the calamities attendant thereon, and that a

guarded education would tend greatly to the future usefulness and

respectability of the rising youth,” with two friends, opened the first

charity school for girls in the United States, teaching them “some of

the most useful branches of learning, viz.: spelling, reading, writing,

arithmetic, and sewing.”

These two little societies, both founded by one young woman, were the

pioneers in the work for the desolate and oppressed now being carried on

by hundreds of associations and by thousands of women all over our

country, and we can only thank God that so many are seeking “to comfort

and help the weak-hearted, to raise up those who fall, and to strengthen

such as do stand.”

XIII.

CARE OF THE SICK.

HOSPITALS AND TRAINING SCHOOLS FOR NURSES MANAGED WHOLLY OR IN PART BY

WOMEN.

BY

EDNAH DOW CHENEY.

So soon as the human being emerged from barbarism, and life became

precious, the restoration of the sick to health must have engaged

attention. The original idea of the hospital was wholly charitable, as

it was an obvious duty to take care of the sick, who were unable to help

themselves, and under many circumstances this work could be better done

in an establishment for that special purpose than in a private home.

Such establishments have existed in very early times and in various

countries, and women have always borne their part in the work as nurses,

if not as physicians or managers.

Although the hospital, in some form, was not unknown before the

establishment of the Christian church, yet that church certainly took

the care of the sick as a special province, and found in its orders of

monks and nuns very convenient instruments for carrying it on. It was an

important adjunct of religion, for the mind and heart, during sickness

and convalescence, are open to religious and moral influences, and the

grateful patient often became a zealous convert to the church which had

given him help in the hour of suffering. The old proverb recognized

this:

When the Devil was sick, the Devil a monk would be;

When the Devil was well, the devil a monk was he.

The earliest known hospital for the sick was founded in the latter part

of the fourth century at Cæsarea; St. Chrysostom built one at his own

expense at Constantinople, and Fabiola, the friend of St. Jerome,

founded one at Rome.

Many of the present great European hospitals, as the “Hôtel Dieu” of

Paris, “St. Bartholomew” of London, etc., owe their existence to

religious foundations, and the sisters of various orders made it their

especial work to labor in them.

Women assisted in these good works. In the old hospital of the Savoy in

London, thirteen sisters are on the pay roll. “Queen Mary tried to

restore this hospital, and the ladies of the court and maidens of honor

stored the same with two beds, bedding, and furniture in very ample

manner.” The work of the sisters of charity is familiar to all, and

Protestants have imitated it by establishing orders of women who devote

themselves to the care of the sick.

In addition to the ordinary needs of human life, war brought its large

increase of wounds and sickness, which made military hospitals a

necessity, and women did not hesitate to follow men to the camp and

field to minister to their fellow-beings in distress. In these scenes of

war Florence Nightingale began her great work, which has raised nursing

to the rank of a skillful profession. Private charity also extended help

to the sick, and King James’s favorite goldsmith, George Heriot, secured

an honorable remembrance in Edinburgh by founding the large hospital

which bears his name. Neither has the State forgotten its duty to the

sick, not only in providing infirmaries, almshouses, and other

institutions, but certainly, in later times, in furnishing hospitals for

the poor at the public expense.

In time of war, or when great epidemics devastated cities, the hospitals

often became excessively crowded, and offered scenes of misery and

horror which justified the dread and disgust felt for them in the

popular mind, so that to “die in a hospital” was an expression for the

extreme of human misery.

Through all these years women took an active part in hospital work as

nurses, and, in the case of infirmaries connected with female convents,

must have had charge of the administration; but it is not until our own

day that hospitals have been established especially for the benefit of

women, and mainly under their own control. As the science of medicine

advanced, and physicians were not solitary students but became a body of

educated men united in their work and deeply interested in the

advancement of their science, the hospital came to be regarded not

exclusively as a charity, but also as a school in which the student of

medicine could gain experience and knowledge by intimate acquaintance

with various forms of disease and the means employed to remove it. This

created a vulgar prejudice that the sick were considered only subjects

of experiment, without regard to their own good. But, in fact, the

constant presence of bodies of intelligent students in hospitals has

done much to raise their character and to reform abuses. As Dr. Finlay

says, “Clinical teaching benefits the patient, secures careful

investigation of his case, and has a bracing effect on the work done in

the hospital.”

It is in this relation that hospitals have become especially important

to women during the last thirty years.

The woman physician was not wholly unknown in America before this time.

Anne Hutchinson, of Boston, was doctor as well as preacher. Ruth Barnaby

practiced the profession of midwifery forty years, and this branch of

practice was fully recognized as belonging to women.[197] But while the

standard of education for women was very low, these were only

individuals carrying out the impulses of their genius or their hearts,

having no relation to each other and no thorough systematic education.

When Elizabeth Blackwell took her stand for thorough medical education

for women, she felt the imperative need of clinical instruction for

them. No hospital in America would give to women students of medicine

any opportunity to see the work done in it.

The other hospitals, which have been established since these pioneers,

have followed their plans so nearly that but few exceptions need be made

to the general account. While I cannot be sure that my list is complete,

I give the following names of hospitals known to me, similar in

character and methods:

New York Infirmary, 1857.[198]

Women’s Hospital of Philadelphia, 1860.

New England Hospital for Women and Children, 1862.[198]

Chicago Hospital for Women and Children, 1865.

Pacific Dispensary and Hospital for Women and Children.

Ohio Hospital.

Northwestern Hospital, Minneapolis.

The hospital in Chicago, like other promising children of the East

transplanted to the West, has outgrown its parents, and is now the

largest institution of its kind in this country, and probably in the

world. It has eighty beds.

The Massachusetts Homœopathic Hospital was not established for the

special benefit of women, but in connection with the medical school of

Boston University, but it received the funds of the old Female Medical

School, and it has women professors and students, and admits women to

the hospital as _internes_.

The hospitals have dispensaries connected with them which are very

important aids to the work, both of charity and education. These

dispensaries afford the students a wider range of observation and

experience than they could gain in the hospitals, since the patients are

numbered by thousands, and they bring the poor sick women to the

acquaintance of women physicians, to whom they can often confide their

troubles more freely than to men. Cases which need the treatment of the

hospital are secured admittance to it. In all this hospital work, and

especially in that of the dispensary, as indeed in all charitable work,

it has been found necessary to guard against the danger of pauperizing

those who should be helped. For this reason a small charge is made to

dispensary patients, except in cases of known destitution. The patients

willingly pay it, feeling their own self-respect increased thereby, and

the dispensary may be thus made nearly or quite self-supporting.

The surgical department of hospitals is of special importance to the

poor, as it is almost impossible for them to have the conditions in

their homes necessary to insure a fair chance of success and recovery in

cases of operations. Remarkable success has been attained in this

department in some of the hospitals I have named, where the greatest of

abdominal operations are performed by surgeons connected with the

hospital, with a percentage of recovery equal to that of other good

hospitals here or in Europe. This branch of work is of absolute

importance to the _internes_, and of the greatest value to the nurses.

Not less interesting or successful is the maternity work of these

hospitals. A great deal of the chronic trouble from which working women

suffer so severely comes from want of proper care while they are

exercising the functions of childbearing. The poor applicant to the

maternity department is seen by the woman physician, who gives her

advice as to previous care of herself, and she has in the hospital that

thorough rest and care which are indispensable to full restoration to

health.

A great moral question forces itself on the consideration of the

managers of these hospitals. The applicants to the maternity are very

often unmarried girls. Does true humanity require us to refuse help to

such women? It is evident that care must be exercised to give no

encouragement to immorality, while we must not refuse the aid which is

so often absolutely necessary to save life. The problem is a difficult

one, but the managers have tried to meet it. They usually make a

distinction between the first offense—which is often rather due to

weakness and folly than to depravity—and confirmed habits of immorality,

and do not receive unmarried women a second time. In one hospital, at

least, the directors find the greatest assistance from a committee of

ladies who look after the maternity patients, both before they enter and

after they leave the hospital. They endeavor to procure work for the

mother, and watch over her welfare and that of the child. But they make

it their invariable rule to give aid only on condition that the mother

makes every effort to fulfill her maternal duties; for they believe

there is a regenerating power in motherhood, and that care for her child

is the surest safeguard against a mother’s committing a second fault.

To many women of good position the maternity is a great blessing, if

they have not comfortable homes and friends to care for them. The

expense in the hospital is much less than the price for which good

medical attendance and nursing can be secured at home.

I need only say of the medical care of women by their own sex in

hospitals that its value has been fully proved. Women of all classes

seek this aid eagerly, and show full confidence in their physicians and

obey them quite as implicitly as they do those of the other sex. Women

often say that they have suffered for years without medical or surgical

assistance, that might have relieved them, from unwillingness to reveal

their troubles to men. The greater freedom of the relation between

patients and physicians of the same sex, enables the doctors to exercise

much influence over their patients, who learn many good sanitary lessons

in housekeeping. A physician was surprised to find the sick room of a

poor patient carefully aired: “Why, you know they always do so at the

hospital,” was the explanation given.

These hospitals have also done much to dispel among the poor the fear of

going to hospitals.[199] Finding their friends kindly ministered to by

their own sex, they come to regard the hospital as a kindly refuge in

sickness, not as the last resort of a homeless and deserted sufferer who

will die unfriended and alone.

Besides these hospitals, especially adapted to assist in the medical

education of women, are others established by women mainly in the

interests of charity. I have, for instance, the twelfth annual report of

“The Home of Mercy,” in Pittsfield, Mass. It contains about thirteen

beds, and the number of patients in a year was one hundred. It was

established by a small body of women who felt the need of a place for

the victims of accident or disease. Sixty-eight per cent. of the

patients are women, and all the officers but the physicians. This

institution seems to present a good model for smaller cities and towns

where, especially among a manufacturing population, hospital

accommodations are often much needed. A training school for nurses is

added to its work.

Another step has been taken in the medical education of women in the

employment of women physicians, (made obligatory by the Legislature in

some States) in State institutions, thus giving them management of the

women’s infirmary. At the Reformatory prison at Sherburne, Mass., the

resident physician has charge of the health of two hundred prisoners.

The good care and treatment given them is apparent in the improvement of

the health of prisoners during their stay, and in the small number of

deaths.

The employment of women physicians in insane asylums is a very valuable

measure from which we may hope great good in the future. At present, the

most interesting instance of such work that has come to my notice is in

the State Hospital for the Insane at Norristown, Pa., where Dr. Alice

Bennett, with two women assistants, has charge of over eight hundred

patients. Her carefully tabulated statistics throw much light on

important questions regarding the causes of insanity and the probability

of restoration. Dr. Bennett has introduced beneficial improvements in

the treatment of patients in the direction of more freedom and more

social life and opportunity of employment. She says in her last report,

“No mechanical restraint (by which is meant enforced limitation of free

movements of the body by means of jackets, muffs, straps, etc.) is at

any time made use of in this department.... There are times in the

history of many cases, when temporary separation from external cause of

irritation is beneficial and necessary.... Brush making, basket making,

sewing and mending, kindergarten occupations for the feebler-minded and

melancholy, and the ever-present “housework,” in all its forms, engage

about half the whole number of patients at one time or another. The

officers and patients have also organized a ‘Lend a Hand Club.’ Dr.

Bennett has arranged for a large number of patients to take their meals

together, and finds the arrangement very beneficial.”

Some of those who are working for the sick have preferred the name of

“Hospital Association.” Such is the St. Luke’s hospital in Jacksonville,

Fla., said to be the first one in the State. The officers are women, but

the physicians and a board of trustees are men. The main purpose of this

association seems to be to relieve the wants of strangers, who so often

go to Florida seeking health, but sometimes in vain.

The Women’s Homœopathic Association of Pennsylvania was formed for a

distinctively reformatory purpose. Its government is composed of women,

with the exception of an advisory board of men. The medical faculty is

composed of both men and women. This account is given of its origin:

“The motive of starting a women’s association was, largely, to correct

the abuses that grow out of institutions managed by men. It is here now

and has been for many years the custom for hospital or other charitable

institutions to have an auxiliary board of women managers, whose duties

are to look after the housekeeping department and raise money either by

giving entertainments or begging—the expenditure of the money so raised,

and general management of hospital work, is considered beyond a woman’s

ability. This prevents a voice in the higher administration. Some of the

women, whose names appear as incorporators of the hospital of this

association, desired to open an institution where women could, when in

sickness and sorrow, be in the care of women. Out of 213 patients cared

for during 1888, 153 were charity cases, 45 partial pay, and 15 cases

full pay.”

The “Philadelphia Home for Incurables” was established by women, but its

bounty is not confined to them; it admits men as patients. With the

exception of a superintendent of the men’s department, the management is

entirely in the hands of women. This is an effort to meet the crying

need of a home for chronic sufferers. Each patient pays one hundred

dollars and is kept during her life.

Much other work of the same nature as that I have described is,

doubtless, doing in our vast country, of which no account has reached

us. One of the many “Women’s Clubs” has taken the subject of hospitals

into serious consideration. While rejoicing in every such effort, I

would like to add a word of caution that every enterprise should be most

carefully considered, and the work never allowed to fall below the

recognized standard of merit.

When the pioneer hospitals were opened, no other clinical advantages

were free to women; now the hospitals are beginning to open their doors

to them. The report of the city hospital of Boston says, “The propriety

of women practicing as physicians or surgeons, and their comparative

ability and fitness to pursue this profession, are not questions for the

trustees to consider in the official management of the hospital; they

must recognize the fact that women are becoming practitioners in all the

schools of medicine; that they are admitted to the Massachusetts Medical

and other State societies, and are recognized as practitioners by the

community at large; and that they are admitted in common with male

students to other leading hospitals of the country. The trustees

therefore feel that there is no sufficient reason why women should not

be admitted to the public instruction in the amphitheater on the same

terms as men, except as to certain operations from which a reasonable

sense or regard for propriety may exclude them.” This advance in public

opinion is most gratifying; but, even when all hospitals are open to

women students, the value of those of which I have spoken will not be

lost; they will still have special work to do, both in education and

charity.

This movement for the clinical education of women in hospitals begun in

America, has extended to Great Britain, Switzerland, and Germany, and is

now being rapidly introduced into India, where the Women’s Hospital is

found to be a most important agent in educating and elevating the women

of India.

The lamented Dr. Amandibai Joshee, who was the pioneer of medical

education for Hindoo women, was a student at the Philadelphia college

and an _interne_ at the New England Hospital.

An excellent hospital in Burlington, Vt., was planned and endowed by a

woman (Miss Mary Fletcher), who gave it her personal supervision. It had

no direct bearing on women’s education, but was open to all classes of

patients. Since Miss Fletcher’s death it is called by her name. It is

mainly intended for residents of the State, although other patients are

received if it is not full. It has no women physicians, but a board of

women visitors. It has an amphitheater for clinical instruction, and its

buildings are large and convenient.

All these hospitals maintain the principle that those who are treated in

them should pay for the care they receive according to their ability.

The price of board and treatment varies from five to forty dollars per

week, according to the service required and other circumstances; but in

all the institutions are free beds, endowed or supported by charity.

Out of this hospital work has grown another very important branch of

service in the training schools for nurses. While estimating this new

departure at its full value, I wish to pause a moment to pay a deserved

tribute to the “old-fashioned nurse.” In New England, especially in our

country towns, and I presume no less in other parts of the country, the

nurse was an important and honored member of society. Although not

regularly trained according to the modern demands, she was generally a

woman deeply read in the great school of life; often a widowed mother,

who earned her bread by giving to others the fruits of her own blighted

family life; sometimes a maiden, who, losing the hope of a home of her

own, found a wide and useful sphere for her energies and affections in

care of the sick; sometimes the girl who had wrecked her life by

youthful indiscretion (like Mrs. Gaskell’s “Ruth”), in the ministry of

help to others found a life which soothed her own sorrows and restored

her to the respect of society. The nurse then gathered her knowledge as

she could, watching through long winter nights with sick friends, and

visiting among the poor when disease came upon them. Dickens has drawn

cruel portraits of the nurse of olden time, true, perhaps, to flagrant

instances, but forming a pitiful caricature of the whole class. The old

nurse was more often the true friend of the family, summoned in every

time of trouble, and loving the children whose birth she had watched,

almost as if they were her own.

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