The Doctors Blackwell by Unknown

The Doctors Blackwell by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Epub3
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company


CHAPTER 11

EDINBURGH

Emily remained even-keeled even when seasick. “Judging from the fine flavor of carrot with which the operation ended, the greedy old ocean coveted even the soup I had eaten for dinner,” she reported. “Probably when I am shut down in the cabin tonight I shall have another tussle with destiny, but if this weather continue I shall not know much of the horrors E was so troubled by.” She had sailed from Boston at the end of March 1854, spending her last night with Nancy Clark, who saw her aboard with a bouquet of roses and a generous supply of biscuits.

The Royal Mail Steamship Arabia, built for the Cunard line only a year earlier, was magnificent: nearly a hundred yards from stem to stern, with two masts, two smokestacks between them, and two huge paddlewheels on either beam. The main dining saloon, with seating for 160, was paneled in bird’s-eye maple and ebony, hung with crimson drapes, and upholstered in velvet, with glowing stained-glass sconces depicting camel caravans “and other Oriental sketches” in keeping with the ship’s name. Steam pipes beneath the floor warmed the staterooms, which were similarly done up with Brussels carpets and more red velvet.

Emily ignored its luxurious charms, perching contentedly in the lee of a smokestack, watching gulls tumbling in the sea-salted wind. Cresting waves foamed like spouting whales, and real whales spouted among them; icebergs resembled mountains or ruins or, in one case, “a little solitary watch tower.” Even rough weather was gorgeous, and once she was safe in her berth, the crashing sea rocked her to sleep. Her young roommate—“an inoffensive Irish girl”—might wake her screaming that a ghost had invaded their cabin, and her fellow passengers might weary her with their “drinking smoking cardplaying & crowding,” but these were passing irritations. The natural world continued to be Emily’s solace.

Her solitary hours offered time to reflect on the three weeks she had just spent in New York. A month after Emily’s graduation, Elizabeth had reached a milestone of her own: the opening of her dispensary. Following Daniel Brainard’s instructions scrupulously, she had obtained a charter from the state and stacked her board of trustees with prominent men—many of them Quaker and several the husbands of satisfied patients. They included the Tribune editor Horace Greeley and his deputy Charles Dana; Henry J. Raymond, politician and recent founder of the New-York Times; and the jurist Theodore Sedgwick.

“The design of this institution is to give to poor women an opportunity of consulting physicians of their own sex,” Elizabeth’s carefully crafted mission statement began. “The existing charities of our city regard the employment of women as physicians as an experiment, the success of which has not yet been sufficiently proved to admit of cordial cooperation.” At the end of a list of respected doctors who would serve as consultants, Elizabeth’s name was tucked in discreetly as “attending physician.” The minutes of an early board meeting suggest that even her trustees considered female physicians a hard sell. The



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