University of Virginia Library
LD2628 .B6 1927

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hen the Hopkins came to Balti

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0635 b?4WHEN THE HOPKINS
CAME TO BALTIMORE

  
  
    

 

By ALLEN KERR BOND, B.A.,M. D.

[Author of The Baltimore Guide]

 

 

 

| THE PEGASUS PRESS 7

1927
PUBLISHED BY THE PEGASUS PRESSWHEN THE HOPKINS
CAME TO BALTIMORE

   
   
 
 
    

By ALLEN KERR BOND, B.A.,M. D.

[Author of The Baltimore Guide]

 

 

COS

(THE PEGASUS PRESS
= 2,

 

A. K. BOND, M.D.
3104 WALBROOK AVENUE, BALTIMORE

Price, paper bound—50 cents, cloth, $1.00—Postage prepaid
1927

  

PUBLISHED BY THE PEGASUS PRESSCOPYRIGHTED, 1927
BY ALLEN KERR BOND, M.D.

 

Thomas & Evans Printing Co.
Baltimore, MarylandfAaiaay AEST PAR) Trae? ee eS
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Te Es & Se de hy Ge ow

 

 

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EREFACE 3 ee a ety Bea pen

EARLY SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS..............--.

EDUCATION FOR WOMEN............-

JOHNS HOPKINS, MERCHANT AND DREAMER.......
Atv THE HOPKINS UNIVERSITY... -ccccccoccconceccecceeecee-

aE Orp MErpical: SCHOOL.

RESIDENCE AT Bay VIEW Poe, We Se eee

MEDICAL PRACTICB.....-..-.-----------:- Lae Ss te ee

CALENDARS OF EDUCATION.....

INDEX

99_49

43-54

55-60

61-79

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84

 

ECLELELELELELESEPREFACE

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@

ALTIMORE’S Educational History has been ably re-

corded in the recent work edited by Clayton C. Hall
and Matthew Page Andrews; and in the United States Bureau
of Education Circulars, by Dr. Bernard C. Steiner. The pur-
pose of the present book is not to duplicate those publications,
but to offer an account of the subject in such a sketchy form
that it may interest the general public of our great city. Any-
one who even looks over the card catalogue of Dr. Steiner’s
publications in a public library must realize that in the death
of the Librarian of the Enoch Pratt Library, Baltimore lost a
devoted citizen of the highest literary gifts.

In his History of University Education in Maryland, (Johns
Hopkins University Studies, Ninth Series), Dr. Steiner says:
‘“To the superficial observer from a distance it sometimes
seems as if University education in Maryland began
with the foundation of the Johns Hopkins University * * * but
Maryland, instead of being one of the latest of the United
States to conceive the University idea, was in fact one of the
very earliest, and * * * her institutions have a history of
which they need not be ashamed.’’

My narrative (including, like the Hopkins, both general and
medical subjects), opens with a review of these educational
efforts as they affect the citizens of Baltimore, gleaned from
the above-mentioned histories, from old family letters, and
from talks with friends who attended schools now almost for-
gotten. This is supplemented, in another chapter, by chron-
ological tabulations (or ‘‘Calendars’’) for ready reference.

It then passes on to tell very simply my own educational
experiences in that period which surrounded the foundation
of the Hopkins;—at its Academic Department; at the Old
Medical School; and in City practice. If I have given a pic-
ture of that Transition Era true to the facts, my little book is
worth the writing.CHAPTER I

FARLY SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMASTERS

LOVE for culture has characterized Baltimore from its

foundation. This is clearly shown by official records as
well as by tradition. Two or three years after the estab-
lishment of Independence, a classical and mathematical school
was founded by the citizens of the little town, now numbering
over fifteen thousand. Although this school lived but a short
time, its inception under the cooperation of the leading Roman
Catholic, Episcopal and Presbyterian clergymen testified, not
only to a widespread appreciation of education throughout
the little community, but also to an unusual degree of en-
lightenment throughout its church circles.

Medical men, too, were of high type in early Baltimore,
many of them, immigrants, being graduates of good European
schools. Between 1778 and 1790, Dr. Wiesenthal (said to
have been the physician to Frederick the Great), formed a
small society here and began to give lectures on several med-
ical topics. Before the end of the century, Dr. Wiesenthal’s
initiative had borne fruit in a private Medical School or-
ganized by his son. Other physicians of energy were attract-
ed to Baltimore, and professional esprit de corps increased,
until in 1799 Baltimore contributed respectably to the founda-
tion of the Medical and Chirurgical Faculty (the State Med-
ical Society) ; being represented by a strong contingent of
six, “‘clad in the antique style of wig, cue, frilled shirt, high-
necked coat with large brass buttons, knee-britches, stock-
ings, shoe-buckles and not least, the gold-headed cane.’’? Four
of them had been trained in the universities of Oxford and
Edinburgh; one was a graduate of the University of Penn-
Sylvania; and the sixth had been a Revolutionary army sur-
oeon.WHEN THE HoPpKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

 

In 1799 an academic department was added to the Sulpi-
cian Seminary of St. Mary’s (the ancient Seminary still on
Paca Street whose Gothic chapel is so much admired). En-
dowed, six years later, with University standing, this school
offered to the city for fifty years the highest educational op-
portunities; yielding the task then to the Jesuit college (Loy-
ola) on Calvert Street.

With the opening of a new century, a movement for a
great medical school under the shelter of the Medical and
Chirurgical Faculty soon got under way and eventuated, in
1807, in the foundation by city practitioners (among them
my grandfather, Dr. T. E. Bond) of that sturdy school on the
corner of Lombard and Greene Streets, which has ever since
educated the majority of the practitioners in this State and
in the States westward of it,—its old high-pillared Medical
Hall planned after the Pantheon at Rome standing still per-
fect today, a shrine to the descendants of its throngs of alumni,
a testimonial to the high aims and cultured tastes of the men
who made Baltimore Town a City.

THE BAUTIMORE COLLEGE

There was chartered also at this time a second school of
classical education, the Baltimore College, not so vigorous as
St. Mary’s, but (non-sectarian, with Archbishop Carroll at
its helm) enduring for thirty years until it became the Facul-
ty of Arts and Sciences of the University of Maryland,
Among its alumni, its greatest ornament was John P. Ken-
nedy (the versatile literary patron of Edgar A. Poe) ‘‘a
name identified with all that is graceful and gracious in
American letters, and useful and honorable in American
statesmanship.’’

In 1854 this Faculty of Arts and Sciences was reorgan-
ized under the title of the School of Letters of the Univer-
sity. Its President, Dr. Dalrymple, was as Cordell testifies
a man of scholarly attainments ranking high as a student ofWHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

the classics, reading Latin as easily as English. A fine por-
trait of him is in the Maryland Academy of Sciences. His
chief characteristic was his unbounded faith in the efficacy
of hard work. School was not so much a place to acquire
knowledge, as an intellectual gymnasium. Tradition relates
that he was inexorable in his demand for perfection in the
tasks assigned to the pupils, and many illustrations of his
exactness have been preserved. He does not seem to have
used the rod (which is hardly credible) ; pupils who failed
in their lessons were kept in until they knew them perfectly.
He did not always keep them in literally ; for there is a story
of his taking some of these unfortunates off a-fishing with
him; while he fished the pupils got up the back lessons!

However reorganized or entitled, the department lacked
funds and soon began to decline. The last lessons were given
there in the year the Hopkins opened. Mr. William Reynolds,
who graduated in 1860, stated that his entire class eould re-
peat the Ars Poetica of Horace by heart in Latin (nearly 500
lines).

I have some very interesting mementoes of this Baltimore
College in its first and third stages of existence. One is a
Greek Testament awarded by the Baltimore College in 1830,
Just before its alliance with the University of Maryland, to
my father, Thomas E. Bond, junior, for ‘‘1st Premium, First
Greek Class,’’ by C. Williams, the President. The other me-
mentoes are ten medals bearing on one side ‘‘University of
Maryland’’, and on the other, the proficiencies for which they
were awarded. They were all won by Theodore C. Gambrall.
for French and Mathematies in 1857; for Mathematies, Greek,
and Latin in 1858; and for Mathematics, Greek, Latin,
French, and Punctuality in 1859. The recipient of these
medals is well-known to people of culture as the Historian of
the Colonial Episcopal Church in Maryland.WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

NEWTON UNIVERSITY

Perhaps the most ambitious of all these colleges was Newton
University. It came late upon the scene, in 1845. It had even
professors of Oriental Languages and of Anglo-Saxon; and
gave all the usual degrees, and in addition a unique degree
of Master of School Keeping; having well-equipped Normal
classes, with a Directory for furnishing school teachers who
had taken this diploma. It had in its curriculum a group
system of studies, with a department looking toward business
life. At its commencements, oratorical contests were staged
with polygot salutatories in English, French, Spanish, Greek,
Latin, and German. For some twenty years it cut a great
figure in the city’s educational life.

From 1800 until the Johns Hopkins came upon the scene,
there had been chartered in Baltimore, (excluding all in dis-
tant parts of the State) ten colleges authorized to confer all
degrees; and four of these had been raised to the dignity of
universities. The fatal defect of all was, not lack of high
ideals and able teachers; but lack of great endowments to en-
sure the salaries of the teachers and to provide for addition
of new departments. For some reason which I do not know,
the capitalization of the earlier colleges in Maryland was
limited in their charters to about one hundred thousand dol-
lars (as in those of the University of Maryland and the Bal-
timore Female College). That of Cokesbury College was
limited to an annual income of three thousand pounds (fifteen
thousand dollars); of Baltimore College, to nine thousand
pounds; of Asbury, to five thousand dollars; of Franklin Col-
lege, to ten thousand dollars; and of Newton University, to
twelve thousand dollars. Compare these figures with the
seven-million-dollar endowment of the Jnhns Hopkins, which

might yield something like four hundred thousand dollars a

year !WHEN THE HopKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

THE UNIVERSITY OF MARYLAND

Having witnessed the struggles of Mr. Hopkins’ able Trus-
tees to found his University on this basis (such are the unex-
pected expenses of these institutions), I am filled with admira-
tion that colleges and universities of an earlier day, even with
a simpler standard of living, survived so long and did such
efficient work. Any one, tracing in Cordell’s fine volumes the
history of the present State University from its earliest be-
ginnings, will rise from the reading with a new faith that
his City and State have in them energy and ability, if wisely
directed, to accomplish anything, no matter how difficult, that
civilization demands of them.

After twice failing in efforts to found a State University,
the Legislature chartered a medical college in Baltimore,
which, in 1808 bounded upon the stage without endow-
ment, without building of any sort, but with the backing
of the medical men of Baltimore, among whom the author is
proud to recognize two of his ancestors—Drs. Bond and
Birckhead. Baltimore was all alive in those days; and in the
memorable year, 1812, ‘‘the finest structure devoted to med-
ical education to be found in the New World’’ arose at the
present corner of Lombard and Greene streets.

The sight of this beautiful building, the equal even today
in classic dignity of any of our nation, put heart again into
Marylanders, and the Legislature decreed forthwith a new
University of Maryland, with a Faculty of Divinity, a Facul-
ty of Law, a Faculty of Arts and Sciences, to be ‘‘consti-
tuted, appointed and annexed to itself’’ by the Medical Col-
lege,—its Faculty of Physic.

It has always been an uncertain and anxious task,—this
rearing of triplets—, and the experience of the Faculty of
Physie in its unique undertaking was no exception to the rule.
The Faculty of Divinity ‘‘was never strong’’ and did not sur-
vive. Gradually, however, others were added by birth, by
adoption, or by affiliation to the family; and today the OldWHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 1]

School of Medicine is the historic centre of a lusty circle of
eleven teaching groups. At the corner of Lombard and
Greene Streets, five ‘‘Schools’’; and at College Park, in
Prince George County, five ‘‘Colleges’’ and one ‘*School’’.

THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS

During all this period, the Public Schools of Baltimore had
been steadily advancing in efficiency. They seem to have had
their origin in the recognition by the city government of
‘‘Bree Schools’’; which had been established by religious
bodies for the education of destitute children but had
taken in gradually more and more of the children of the well-
to do citizens. It is to Religion acting through or beyond
church organizations that the city owes all of its public
institutions for the rescue and uplift of its unwealthy classes.
Church people started them and later the government took
them over.

Steiner says that the possibility of the general education
now accomplished by our public schools was first “‘borne in
upon’’ educators by the now forgotten demonstrations of
JosEPH LANCASTER, who at his Laneasterian Institute in Bal-
timore published a book on his new System of Teaching. I
have described such a school in detail in the recently published
Guide to Baltimore. In these Lancasterian Schools, which
were established in many countries, the cost of education was
only one-fifth of that in the private schools. One good teach-
er was expected to handle four or five hundred pupils. Kven

in needle work, a Lancasterian teacher ‘‘could teach three
Modern

3

hundred pupils how to work, as easily as to read
teachers, overburdened with classes of fifty, will please take
notice!

Armed with this short-lived, cheap System, the city author-
ities felt able to district the whole city and establish schools
in each district. In this movement, preexisting Free Schools
were taken over, and High Schools were instituted. These12 WHEN THE Hopkins Came To BALTIMORE

latter, becoming too popular, gradually raised their standards,
restricted the number of their pupils, and forced the inferior
public schools to improve and elevate their curriculum in or-
der to meet the demands of those shut out from the high
schools. In 1866, the first Superintendent of Public Schools
was appointed, and a thorough reorganization was effected.
Little further advance, however, was made till close to the
end of the century ;—this great public department, as to its
practical workings, having passed absolutely into control of
local politicians.
THE PEaBopy

Just after the Civil War, an institution of great value in
higher education was endowed in Baltimore, the Peabody In-
stitute. Its wonderful stores of literary reference books not
accessible outside of the greatest libraries of the world are
familiar to every cultured citizen; its diploma in music is a
coveted prize throughout the nation: the name of its donor is
a household word. But while Mr. George Peabody gave the
money, the value of the Institute to the community and its
preeminent worth in education are the expression of the wis-
dom and loyalty to the city of another great man who lived
among us to the end, and in his will thanks God for many
blessings; among them the opportunities for public service
afforded him through the confidence of his fellow-townsmen
in more than one honorable trust—yet the name of John P.
Cennedy is already well nigh forgotten.

These two, Peabody and Kennedy, had boarded together as
young men and together had faced the enemy in the attack
upon the city in 1814, when, in his old age Peabody, now a
wealthy London banker, resolved to bequeath his great for-
tune for the endowment of charitable and educational insti-
tutions and thought of Baltimore, he wrote to Kennedy and
asked advice. Kennedy drew up a plan for an Institution
along the present lines, which was at once adopted by Pea-

body.WHEN THE HopKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

Entrusted with the organization of the Institute, Kennedy
studied similar establishments in England and on the Conti-
nent. He was the moving spirit of the Peabody trustees.
If they had consented, he would have gathered into one great
building not only the Peabody but also the Maryland His-
torical Society; and drawn together in a great educational
nucleus all the means of popular culture in the city. His
ideal included a great free library; a course of scholarly
lectures; prizes for merit in the High Schools; a music school;
an art gallery with annual exhibitions; and the Maryland In-
stitute, with other cultural associations. Everything notable
in literature and science useful to scholars’’ was the keynote.

When Mr. Peabody came to Baltimore in 1866, during the
absence of Mr. Kennedy in Europe, he found his Board of
Trustees hopelessly divided, the ten Southerners against
thirteen Yankees. At the inauguration banquet, he made them
shake hands all around the table, ‘‘and gentlemen who had
not met or spoken to one another for years renewed their
friendship.”’

In early days, the great aid to study in private schools of
all grades, for both sexes, was the rod and many traditions
have been handed down concerning this great incentive to
virtuous effort. My father, when a little boy, attended a
school conducted by a teacher of high reputation who always
whipped a number of the boys at the opening of school, before
he began to teach;—especially one sensitive boy (of poor
parents) who ‘‘jumped like a frog’’ under the discipline.
This gentleman, being ill on one occasion, had a boy brought
to his bedside and placed there on a stool; and died of over-
exertion while beating him on the feet. The procession of
little boy mourners at the funeral of this educator was re-

membered by my father as the happiest event of his boyhood.

Another tradition of the family is of an elderly Dame-
School mistress of high standing in well-to-do circles who was
caught one night by two of her ex-pupils on their return to14 WHEN THE HopxKIns CAME TO BALTIMORE

Baltimore from a voyage as sailors, taken into an alley, and
thrashed ‘‘exactly as she had thrashed them.”’

The belief that, in whipping, the educational point of view
was lost in hatred bred of the physical struggle, caused our
Public School authorities early to condemn the practice. In
the Hooks Town Academy (as I have elsewhere narrated)
the boys themselves tempered the severity of the thrashings
by nicking with their penknives the rods they brought to the
teacher from the nearby woods, and covering the deficiency
by extra-loud howls of anguish.CHAPTER II

EDUCATION FOR WOMEN

HE earliest tradition which has been handed down to

me, in regard to the education of women of Baltimore,
concerns Aliceanna Bond, after whom a waterside street on
Fell’s Point is named. A bit of faded manuscript in my pos-
session among the papers of John Bond, the first shipper of
that little port and in his own handwriting, states that his
vife was ‘‘the youngest daughter of John Webster, seniour.
She had many fine qualities and understood Medicine which
she administered without fee or reward. She left ten chil-
dren to condole her loss with their father. ‘Give her of the
fruits of her hands, and let her own works follow her’ ’’
In the families of colonial times there must have been many
such women of fine minds, who envied the men for their
greater educational privileges and seized upon every oppor-
tunity for self-development. Kitty Knight, for instance, the
heroine of our Eastern Shore, sat in publie gatherings among
the men, as she was ‘‘tired of chatter about clothes and such
nonsense’’; and would read no book written by a woman be-
cause ‘‘no woman had sense enough to write a book.”’

After the Revolution very good schools were established
in the larger cities, and the young ladies of prominent fami-
lies had, many of them, very fine training. I have several
letters dated about 1813 from Peter Hoffman, a leading mer-
chant of Baltimore, to his daughter, who was a pupil in the
school of Miss Lyman at Philadelphia. He comments with
delight on her taking for the second time the medal ‘‘for
Sincerity’’, which he values most highly. His appreciation
of culture is great. ‘‘I would undergo any privation,’’ he
writes, ‘‘in order that my children may have a good educa-
tion.”’16

 

WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

About this time there lived in Maryland a very remark-
able woman whose name should not be forgotten,—Margaret
Mercer, the daughter of Governor Mercer, a distinguished
veteran officer of the Revolution. She was the author of a
number of books,—Studies for Bible Classes; A series of Lec-
tures for Young Ladies, ete.;— and became noted for her sac-
rifice in freeing her slaves and sending them to Liberia. War-
field says she was known as ‘‘the Hannah Moore of Amer-
ica.”’

In 1818 a young ladies’ seminary was established in Bal-
timore by ‘“‘the accomplished daughters of Professor Black-
burn,’’ (a mathematical wonder), of Asbury College.

About 1834, my mother and her sisters were educated in the
seminary of Mr. Clark, on E. Saratoga Street, where Latin,
Greek, and if desired, Hebrew were taught. One of these
sisters, at her seventieth year could read Latin easily.

I was curious to know where a patient of mine, ninety-four
years of age, well connected socially, was educated. She
says she was born on Stiles Street, then moved to Exeter
Street and went to school at Miss Hall’s on Aisquith Street,
then at Mr. Adkins’ (afterward a P. E. clergyman) ; ‘‘fin-
ishing’’ at Mr. Morrison’s.

There are dim memories of a Baltimore Collegiate Insti-
tute for Young Ladies. After much searching, I have found
an advertisement for 1853 which represents it as sixteen years
old, with pupils from all the Atlantic States, ten teachers, an
imposing ‘‘Board of Council.’’ and Rev. John R. Jarboe,
President.

In 1850 Mr. Brooks, an educator of the highest type, re-
signed the charge of the Baltimore City College, which he had
conducted for ten years, and became Principal of the Balti-
more Female College, which he made the Goucher of that half
century. This fine school embodied the third attempt of Meth-
odism to establish advanced education in this eity. Among
my letters is one from Dr. Thomas E. Bond, a Founder ofWHEN THE HopPpKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 17

the University of Maryland and later ‘‘Defender of Meth-
odism,’’ in which he pictures the struggles of the early Meth-
odist preachers to develop higher education,—even by ‘‘beg-
ging from door to door for contributions.’” The women of

Baltimore should never forget this debt.

‘*BEFORE THE WAR’’

The decade preceding the Civil War shows few of the young
men of the city attending college. The young women, how-
ever, enjoyed rare educational advantages along the narrow
lines then permitted. Miss Bond, the author of Memorves of
General Robert E. Lee (just published) gives me an interest-
ing picture of a girl’s education at that period;—she was
taught to read, in her sixth year, by one of Mr. Clark’s grad-
uates, who used the modern method of teaching it,—not the A,
B.—AB, method then customary. Two years later, she entered
Miss MecDowell’s school. From her ninth to eleventh year,
her father taught her—in Euclid and in Latin grammar.

She then entered the Baltimore Female College; the Princi-
pal of which was Mr. Nathan C. Brooks. It was then in the
hands of the Methodist Church; and a large body of Trustees
used to come to the examinations. The girls declared that
these gentlemen held their Latin and Greek books upside
down. This institution was not fashionable, but her father
considered it the best. It had two courses, Preparatory and
Collegiate. Her older sister won its medal for Greek.

My informant went there for four years and studied no
Greek; but Mathematies, French and Latin.

She ‘‘finished’’ at Mrs. Cary’s Southern Home School,
where Literature and History were a specialty and Gracious-
ness was encouraged as a crowning accomplishment.

About 1880, with her sisters, she established the Mount
Vernon School, located next to the Peabody on the east, which
maintained the highest standards of preparation for college,
and was among the last of the type of girls’ schools conducted18 WHEN THE HopKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

 

by ladies of culture which has been replaced now by the
incorporated and endowed school.

Miss KUMMER

When President Gilman came to Baltimore, he was great-
ly surprised to find among the numbers of women educated
in the customary way, a little group of four or five young
women of wealth and social standing who were enthusiasts
in scientific studies. He ascribed their attitude to their for-
mer teacher, a Miss Kummer, who had conducted a school for
young ladies on Mount Vernon Place.

The relations of this circle of young devotees of science to
the beginnings of the Hopkins are so important that I add a
sketch (obtained with great difficulty) of the antecedents
of the gifted woman who inspired their enthusiasm. Miss
Sarah Agnes Kummer was born (May 13, 1830) and edu-
cated, in the Moravian community at Bethlehem, Pennsyl-
vania ;—so famous for the making of Pulaski’s Banner, cele-
brated in song and now preserved in our Historical Society.

Her father was born of a line of Moravian missionaries,
and was principal of the Bethlehem Female Seminary from
1836 to 1843, dying in 1846. Her mother was of a Yorkshire
Moravian family, nearly all of whom were teachers; —a
brother, Joseph Hinchcliffe having in England a large boys’
school, Thornton House;

 

and was also, before her marriage,
a teacher in ‘‘this first American boarding school for girls.”’

From 1849 to 1852, Agnes (later ‘‘Sarah’’) taught in the
Seminary. After several years’ experience as governess and
in the schools of Mr. Daniels and Mr. Sargeant in Balti-
more, she felt able to enter upon her true lifework. She
made a trip to Europe, perfecting herself in musie and
French; and in the fall of 1863 opened the Edgeworth School
for Young Ladies (boarding and day), with 31 scholars, and
three assistants,—one of them a French lady she brought with
her from Paris. For nine years, toward the end in partner-WHEN THE HoPpKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 19

 

ship with Mrs. (or Madam) Lefebvre, she conducted a very
suecessful school.
THE CIRCLE

A friend who was a classmate of the little circle of students
of science above mentioned has given me details :—

She was making good progress in the languages and mathe-
matics when Miss Kummer closed her active connection with
the school, intending to start a similar enterprise in Paris.
Before she could accomplish this, she was taken ill. She
died in Baltimore, in November, 1872.

The group of young women, advanced pupils, east adrift
on their own resources, got up a class in Biology and Science;
and invited my informant to join. ‘‘My dear!’’ one of
them pleaded, ‘‘you ought to join us. It is fascinating. Yes-
terday we dissected a rat!’’ ‘‘When I heard that, I just ran!’’
said my friend. Their former classmates were scandalized.
They were the talk of the town. ‘‘They dissected a rat!’’
placed them outside the pale of propriety. Men shrank from
them.

In the face of all this they persisted. One of the geroup
wanted to study medicine; but her father, a doctor in high
standing, confessed that he did not dare to permit it.

This little pioneer group, in my college days, were the
unflagging advocates of woman’s advancement to the place
she now occupies in business and education. They encouraged
the first two women doctors of social standing who settled in
the city, but who could not make good. They stood up for
the second two, who did make good; thanks largely to the
opening of Goucher College. I knew all of these doctors
and watched their struggles for a footing. Medical men, as
a rule, I think were fair to them,—but believed they had a
limited place, if any, in medicine.

There was about this time an effort made to establish a
medical school for women here. It assumed and held a tre-
mendously high standard; but it had no endowment. I met20 WHEN THE HopKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

and helped some of the advanced students in their difficult
cases in out-practice. They were very brave and self-con-
fident in medical matters; but had at times to call on even
very young doctors for aid. I remember helping two of them
through a difficulty at the bedside of a dispensary patient
in a forlorn district of the city; and about 3 A. M., starting
for home. To my astonishment, when our ways parted they
positively refused to make their way alone. They said they
were frightened!
THE CIRCLE AGAIN

Of the pioneer group of young advocates of woman’s ad-
vancement, several were daughters of Trustees of the Johns
Hopkins, whose fathers were in full sympathy with their
views. When the University fell into distress, they worked
for its relief; and after it had passed through fifteen years
of distress and on into despair, one of them, Miss Garrett—
daughter of the loyal Civil War president of the Baltimore
and Ohio Railroad, played a trump ecard for women. She
completed the sum necessary for the endowment of the medi-
eal school of the Hopkins by a Christmas Gift of nearly half
a million dollars; on condition that women should be taught,
not in similar but in identical classes with men throughout
the curriculum.

The Trustees held off a little, asking if her gift would in any
way infringe the ancient right of Universities to self-gov-
ernment. She replied that there was no limitation intended,—
provided that women had their rights; and another goal for
women of Baltimore was scored.

The Arundel Club has on its walls a tablet to the memory
of another member of this pioneer group,—as Founder and
First President of the Club.

Several of the group lived to see still another goal for which
they had struggled attained,—Woman’s Suffrage.

 

This chapter cannot be more fitly ended than by noting the
crowning service of the Methodist Chureh to the women ofWHEN THE HopkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 21

our city in the College with which, on its first centennial an-

niversary as a church, it consummated its work for Balti-

more women,—the institution first ealled the Woman’s Col-

and now bearing the name of Goucher ;

lege of Baltimore,
(and his devoted

in memory of the able Methodist minister
wife) who guided it to its present standing among the high-

est in our Nation.WHEN THE HopxKins CAME TO BALTIMORE

CHAPTER Il

JOHNS HOPKINS,
MERCHANT AND DREAMER

M* earliest association with the name of Johns Hopkins

is a story told me in my boyhood that a neighbor in
Harford County, a devout Quaker, had been in partnership
with Johns Hopkins, also a Quaker, and had left the firm
because he thought his partner had a too great love for mak-
ing money. The same charge might probably be made against
all builders of great fortunes. Traditions of those who knew
Mr. Hopkins well imply that he was a pioneer in that efficien-
ey which is today so much lauded in business circles. I have,
however, never heard or read the least aspersion against his
strict business integrity. That, outside of the battle for wealth,
in which he fought his way against the keenest minds to the
very top, he had a kind and generous disposition, is indi-
cated by the thousands of dollars he willed to all his numerous
near relatives; and if it be charged that this was only to pro-
tect his University endowments, by the large sums he left
to his servants and to colored orphans.

The way in which he donated warehouses in his will and
eodicils, to his relatives is astonishing to the ordinary citizen.
He would give three or four new warehouses in the heart of
the wholesale district to a single legatee.

(The charge has often been made against Mr. Hopkins that
he left nothing in his will to his relatives. treating them very
shabbily. His will in the Peabody Library (within the reach
of anyone who cares to know the truth) leaves to some ten
or twelve relatives approximately thirty warehouses, six stores
and fifty dwelling houses, with fifty thousand dollars in cash ;HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

 

and to three servants one dwelling house and about ten thou-
sand in cash ;—a total of about one million dollars.

Leaving out of consideration entirely the donation of a Uni-
versity to the city, Mr. Hopkins was still one of the greatest
benefactors that Baltimore has produced. Coming, a poor
boy, during the War of 1812, from his father’s farm in Anne
Arundel County (for his grandfather had freed several hun-
dred slaves for religion’s sake and the Hopkins boys had
to do a large part of the farm work themselves), Johns after
a short service in his uncle’s grocery store felt such confi-
dence in his own powers that almost without any backing he
formed, in 1819, a partnership with the Quaker above men-
tioned. He must have had commercial genius of a high order,
for when his partner left him three years later he took into
his firm two younger brothers and soon outdistanced all com-
petitors, winning far and near a reputation for shrewd bus-
iness insight, daring and integrity. Soon his great Conestoga
wagons, each crammed with merchandise sufficient to fill a
small warehouse, with their spanking teams and jingling bells
were crossing and recrossing the Alleghanies to the new States
beyond; and far down the newly accessible valley of Virginia
—at that time a paradise through which no ‘‘crow needed to
carry his rations’’—his firm was a household name. In 1838
he sent a load of merchandise weighing four tons to Mt. Ver-
non, Ohio; a distance of four hundred miles. The wagon
brought back three tons and a half of Ohio tobacco. Nothing
but one bow on the wagon was damaged on the trip.

From their very infancy, he believed in railroads. When
the Baltimore and Ohio met with difficulties in 1857, and its
original promoters were unable to help, Johns Hopkins felt
strong enough to come to its rescue; and again and again, in
the various panics which occurred in those troublous times,
placed hundreds of thousands of dollars at its disposal, and
saved it from ruin. In Civil War times, he stood bv the24 WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE
Union, and received enormous railroad dividends from ear-
riage of troops and supplies.

In business cireles of our city, he pursued the same course,
rescuing many struggling firms from distress. Such a posi-
tion in a growing city is necessarily very remunerative and
Mr. Hopkins’ bank deposits had to find new investments.

BUSINESS BUILDINGS

He seems now to have adopted a definite plan for rebuild-
ing the wholesale district of the city, which had spread over
the original Baltimore Town, and was occupying houses built
for residences a century before. He bought up property af-
ter property in this section, and giving permanent employ-
ment to large numbers of workmen, replaced the old wrecks
with solid warehouses of plain architecture or with fine
modern buildings when demanded. He seems designedly to
have put about half of his fortune into the Baltimore and
Ohio Railroad and half into these warehouses. A codicil had
to provide for the continued increase in the number of these
warehouses after his will was made.

This real estate, he willed to his Hospital. Some instinct
seems to have impelled him to place this benevolence which I
suspect was nearest his heart, on a basis which eould not be
shaken by panie and which possible mismanagement could
hardly destroy. Even the Great Fire, which wiped them all
from the face of the earth, does not seem to have hurt the
Hospital income seriously.

In the railroad which he had so often rescued, Mr. Hop-
kins had the most implicit confidence, charging his Trustees
not to sell their interest in it ;—even though his holdings were
largely common stock. The crash came in 1896; and only the
able receivership of Mr. Cowen saved anything. I believe
that if Mr. Hopkins had lived there might have been no re-
celvership at all. Mr. Cowen publicly stated that when he
took it in charge the road (with good management) was a
splendid property; and he soon had it making good earnings.WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

Havine long before enlisted earnestly in the advancement
of the city’s interest, it was perfectly natural for Mr. Hop-
kins to listen attentively to the pleas of progressive Baltimore
physicians for an endowment that would bring its medica!
and surgical equipment abreast of the business facilities he
had provided. Henceforth he devoted himself to the new Uni-
versity with the same energy that had made him successful

along commercial lines.

THe GREAT IDEA

As I have found little published on the inception of this
creat enterprise, I am compelled to submit to the reader such
sidelights as I have been able to gather from those who knew
Mr. Hopkins, and their descendants.

His city home was in the old building on the east side of
the beautiful colonial rectory of St. Paul’s church, now the
home of the Royal Arcanum. His country residence was on
the Harford Road, in what is now the mansion house of Clif-
ton Park. A tradition of my family tells that as my father,
Dr. Thomas E. Bond, hurrying back from the city to his home
in Harford County passed with his fast trotters the buggy
of the old capitalist, he had many conversations with him.
On several occasions Mr. Hopkins asked him to stop for lunch;
and they had long and earnest talks on the need of Baltimore
for up-to-date medical facilities.

I do not suppose that Dr. Bond was the only physician
who urged this upon Mr. Hopkins; for among the Trustees to
whom originally the execution of his great design was com-
mitted was Dr. Fonerden, a physician prominent in the Med-
ical and Chirurgical Faculty, a staunch friend of its library,
a promoter of many benevolent movements in the city. He
had been a colleague of Dr. Bond in the faculty of the Wash-
ington University Medical School, which occupied the build-

ing on Broadway later known as the Church Home. Dr. Alan
P. Smith, also, a surgeon of worldwide fame and a popular26 WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

family physician, was on this board of trustees. There is a
tradition in the Maryland Academy of Sciences that at a noon-
day lunch in its old building on Mulberry Street, Johns Hop-
kins discussed and finally decided upon his great endowment. I
have been fortunate enough to find a little sketch of Mr. Hop-
kins’ plans published in 1871, two years before his death and
evidently issued under his authority or that of his trustees :—
Four years before this, in 1867, he had secured an Incor-
poration, “‘For the Promotion of Education in the State of
Maryland’’. Dr. Fonerden had died in 1869, leaving the way
free for changes of administration of the old Hospital on
Broadway where vaccination had been pioneered and where
the wounded in the Battle of Baltimore had been received.
With the return of Dr. Richard Sprigg Steuart, a progres-
Sive alienist, to its administration, a plan was made for the
removal of the inmates to the suburbs. Not waiting for this
removal, Mr. Hopkins had, in 1870 bought the old buildings
and the grounds, realizing the value of this eminence, fa-
mous in the defence of the city; and he was now ‘awaiting
with anxiety the arrival of the time when he may regard the
admirable site which he had selected for his hospital as se-
cured to its public uses by proper legislation, in order that he
may see that work completed during his life. ... *? ““The
corporation bearing his name, which he intends shall admin-
ister this great charity,
the trustees.
which will ]

has been fully organized, and...
will be enabled to commence buildings
9e a splendid and enduring monument to their
Founder ; and will prove an incalculable blessing to the poor
of the community in which they will be located.’’

At this time, ‘‘He has full confidence in the permanent value
of the stock itself (common stock of the Baltimore and Ohio
railroad) and has, it is believed. set apart the whole fund for
the establishment and Support of a University to be located
upon his fine estate (of four hundred acres)’ at Clifton.’’
‘This estate at Clifton will afford ample room, not only forWHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 2
the accommodation of the professors and students attached to
the University ; but also space for the establishment of a Bo-
tanical and Agricultural school upon an extended scale. The
buildings of the University will be surrounded by pleasure
prounds.... ’

To one brought up on the story of old King David and his
preparation for the great Temple; there is something facin-
ating in this similar picture of the old Baltimore merchant,
who started a poor boy from the country, planning at seven-
ty-six years the erection of a great institution which should
be a living memorial of his interest in the city which he had
helped to become great.

3etween his own fine homestead with its University and
Agricultural School (a pleasure ground of beautiful trees and
flowers gathered from all parts of the earth, surrounded by
professors’ cottages) he plans, as a surviving friend of his
tells me, a broad shady boulevard to the Hospital on Louden-

 

slager’s Hill;—an educational Pennsylvania Avenue unique
in the history of the world. Impatiently he throws his enérgy
against the slow moving legislature at Annapolis; hoping him-
self to see his great Dream a living reality. Unaware of dan-
ger to his investments almost the last act of his life is to pour
nearly a million dollars into the draining coffers of the rail-
road.

The financial difficulties into which the great Trust
came; and the suecessful efforts of the City and the citizens
to rescue this great educational institution do not belong to
this story. The attitude of the Trustees at the time of my ad-
mission to the classes of the University, is however worth pre-
senting. In the First Annual Report it is stated that:—
‘‘They also decided to postpone the construction of buildings
at Clifton (the prospective site of the University) and to pro-
vide the requisite class rooms . . . in the heart of the city
The Trustees have not forgotten the importance of develop-28 WHEN THE HopPpKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

ing the Clifton site with reference to the purposes to which
it will be devoted....”’

That the Trustees did not carry out in all its details the
plan of its Founder is not under criticism anywhere in this
book. They were wise and able men, and I believe built bet-
ter than Mr. Hopkins could have done, informing themselves
as to the greater educational needs of the day. I confess, how-
ever, being somewhat of a dreamer myself, that I regret the
failure of his great University Boulevard to materialize, as he
saw it in his Dream.CHAPTER IV

AT THE HOPKINS

le the Fall of 1876, learning from the authorities of the new
institution, which had at first refused me as under age,
that I could enter its Collegiate Department with conditions
in Mathematics; I entered upon its classical and mathemat-
ical courses, being the second undergraduate examined for
admission. It was here that I first made acquaintance with
the word ‘‘tentative.’’ Everything about the University was
tentative. There had been nothing tentative about Mr.
Carey’s school, (the rival of Dr. Atkinson’s for the title of best
30ys’ School in Baltimore), where I had gotten my classical
and mathematical equipment. I can still hear the patient
‘Cyra-w-l On, Gentlemen!’’ with which that veteran educator
was wont to stimulate his class to greater exertions. From
Mr. Carey’s, after a winter of special coaching and health-
building in my Harford County home, [ had taken the Prince-
ton examinations; and passed without conditions there. I
mention this to show the relative standards of the Princeton
and Baltimore Colleges.

The only impression that ] retain of my examinations in
Princeton, was the shock I experienced on hearing the rever-
end philosopher then at its head referred to in public by its
junior staff of teachers as ‘‘Jimmy.’’ There was nothing in
President Gilman’s character that suggested such familiarity.

My mathematical conditions of the Hopkins gave me no
special trouble. Having as yet no definite aim in life, I took
a ‘‘minor’’ in Physics. I learned to cut imaginary cones into
imaginary planes of circles, ellipses, parabolas and hyper-
bolas: and to measure them upside down and downside up,
with imaginary measuring rods. I think that I was also in-

troduced to the delights of measuring the empty spaces whichWHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

  
 
   
    
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
    
    
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
    
   
 
 
 
   
   
     
  

imaginary things would fill if they were there, which they
were not. I got very clever in these gymnastics of the imagin-
ation, being of a poetical temperament (has not Sylvester said
that Mathematics is Poetry) but when it came. in Physies, to
the actual measurement of a standard rod, I always fell down
on the job,—never coming out without grave error. They told
me (for comfort) that Error is not a haphazard thing. (Has
not one of our poets also told us that ‘‘C hances have laws as
fixed as Planets have’ ’). They assured me that in Physies
every worker, however expert, has his own particular way of
doing things wrong; one always making a measure too big and
another always too little.
things skimp and the too- little man never turns in a measure
in excess. There were. they said, international lists of these
Bulls and Bears of Physics; and whenever one of them pub-
lished a report, readers added or
centage to his figures.
universally
civilization),

The too-big man never measures

subtracted a certain per-
Outside of this important lesson (which
ee and applied would ch lange the |

I do not recollect that I learned
value from Physies,

Algebra, I always look
ward, when my |

story of
anything of

< upon with respect; for, years
aby was ordered by the speci
strength of milk made up witl

after-
ialist a certain
1 cream of a certain fat content ;
having failed to cipher out by Arithmetic how much cream
to add to each bottle. I betook myself to Alk gebra and, with
two equations of X and Y, easily found the answer.

The instructor in Physies, Dr Hastings, had a se raphie

smile which appeared only when one of his pupils at the black-
board was heading for a f all. When we saw it break out over
his face, we sure knew th

at Trouble was w aiting for us round
the corner. He wags the only teacher IT ever had who defamed
Spelling. He said he had wasted: endless ] hours learning spell-
ing, which now-a- days he left entirely to tl

le proof-reader, as
beneath his own notice.WHEN THE HopkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 31

He was very expert in lens-grinding and made the fine lens
of the telescope in our Academy of Sciences on Franklin
treet.

It was at his Physics class that I first heard a phonograph.
One day he brought in a machine which he said had been made
for him in a little shop on Eutaw Street, where an expert
mechanic was employed in making models of inventions such
as Professor Rowland’s spectrum gratings and things needed
for demonstrations, He set the machine a-going and it relat-
ed to us the tragie story of Jack and Jill,—ending with “‘Jill
came tumbling after him’’. ‘‘I know,”’ said Dr. Hastings,
‘“that the apprentice boy spoke that record; for that is the
way he always recites it.’’

I was a fair Latin scholar, thanks to the training of Mr.

l |

Carey’s school and the private tutoring of Professor Baird,
the principal of the Belair Academy (once a University) ;
and very much enjoyed Latin under Professor
Hopkins Collegiate Professor. He was what the girls would
eall ‘‘a Dear.’’ I believe we all loved him for his humanness,
as well as admired him for his talents as a teacher. He was
innately modest, and at certain passages of Horace would
break in with ‘‘We won’t read that! The dirty fellow!’’ It
was rumored that in a neighboring girls’ school no such skips
were permitted. Professor Morris, like Mr. Carey, felt very
much the tedium of our frequent class examinations. He had
English side whiskers (he had been a Fellow in Oriel, Ox-
ford), and would walk back and forth muttering ‘‘Oh dear!
Dear!’’—makine us feel that he was one of us. In these
walks, he would pull at his whiskers; which kept one side
shorter than the other. Once I joined him on Howard Street,
and wondering at the little dog that accompanied him, of the
type of Clematis in Seventeen, I asked him why he had a dog
like that. ‘‘Oh,’’ he answered, ‘‘somehow the poor thing got
dependent on me, and I didn’t have the heart to drive him

away !’’32 WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

He would translate long passages from the fathers of the
Church, and make us turn them back into Latin. Toward the
end of my studies under him, he told us he was obliged to
adopt a new method of Latin pronunciation, recently discoy-
ered to be the correct method; but when he tried it on the
name of the chief god, he said he would have to make that an
exception; he really could not call him ‘‘Juice.’’ This was
the third method of Latin pronunciation that I had been
taught, resulting in a delightful arabesque of sounds when-
ever I attempt a quotation.

Deciding to prepare for the Hopkins Medical School, short-
ly to be opened, I left the Classies, and turned to Chemistry
and Biology.

In chemistry, my work lay largely in the well-equipped lab-
oratory under Dr. Morse, a practical man, whose life was in
his tubes and retorts; left-handed, seeming to lift a brake from
his speech when he began to talk: deliberate, kindly, tremen-
dously accurate, very much trusted by the laboratory work-
ers. I don’t think he had much respect for my talents as an
analytical chemist. The minute bits of minerals which. to-
ward the end of my course, I was required to analyse, I could
never analyse quite correctly. I would work four or five hours
a day for five days over a fragment of mineral the size of a
grain of wheat,—testing, now for this element, now for that,
heating it most carefully in the platinum crucible, weighing
it most conscientiously in the exquisite balances provided;
and when I presented the results, he would say, ‘‘ We must try
again next week! You have missed something!’”’

When I left that laboratory at graduation, patience under

failure was part of my nature ; which has stood by me in many
a trouble since.

Professor Remsen I met chiefly at stated lectures on Or-
ganic Chemistry,—his reputation having been made by his
work on the structure of the chemical molecule. In his lec-
tures, he led us into the mysteries of chemical affinities andWHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORI

chain-building. He was known intimately only to his special
students:: but I respected him for his honesty, and simple

truthfulness. ‘‘Gentlemen,’’ he would say at the |

lackboard,

‘T had that formula and reaction exact in my mind when J

L¢

started to class, but I have forgotten it! I’ll give 1t to you at
my next lecture!’’ I don’t remember that Dr. Morse ¢ for
got anything at the board. We understood, however, tha
Dr. Remsen in his private laboratory was engaged upon .
mendously abstruse investigations. There Saccharin LS
synthesized under his direction from which a mercena -
ist would have reaped a fortune). It was said that Dr. in
sen had been quite an artist in his younger days When
President Gilman, in 1900, resigned his office and retired
full of hon Is, fron the oreat ente prise viheh he 1) 1 Sale.
conducted through almost unequalled difficulties, Remsen the
Chymiec Dreamer, was the only person considered comp‘
fill the breach until a new President should be appou d
With characteristic modesty, he promised to do his best. His
reward was to see the University under his leadership enter

upon its fine location at Homewood with a tribute from well-
wishers in Baltimore of nearly four million dollars.

a
I always lifted my hat when I met Dr. Remsen on the street ;
and he always in turn lifted his to me; with a puzzled look ;
he never could realize that he was a great man!
When I graduated from the Hopkins, I had not quite com-
pleted the assigned work in the chemical laboratory, my pre-

sentation of one more ‘‘minor’’ than was necessary for grad-
uation beine considered more than sufficient to make up the
deficit. At the first opportunity after beginning practice of
medicine, I asked permission of Professor Remsen to work
out the deficit in the laboratory. I think this pleased him
very much. Under the guidance of Dr. Morse, I began to
work on analysis for sugar. Dr. Morse lent me some of his
sugar crystals, on condition that I would make up an equal
quantity for him before I left. Fate pursued me, and I could

not get my sugar mixture to yield any erystals for me. Dr.34. WHEN THE Hopkins Came 710 BALTIMORE

Morse came to my rescue, but it would not crystallize for him,
either. For about two months, in intervals of my analytical
work, we labored over the sugar mixture but not a erystal
could we get. Finally, he said, ‘‘Doctor Bond, we are closing
the laboratory for the summer: suppose you put it in the cup-
board and maybe by fall it will have erystallized.’’ I said,
“All right, Sir!’ and slipped it into the waste jar. I had
learned that in the case of crystals, the unalterable Laws of
Science cannot be depended on. Hemmeter says they don’t
apply at all in the sphere of medicine. (I may say, passim,
that the great Pasteur believed that in these crystals of vege-
table origin may lie the secret of the difference between life-
less and living matter)

In the Hopkins Biological laboratory, I did fairly well. I
did not like to ‘‘pith’’ frogs, even if it was fun to see them
seratch without a brain: and the dissecting of shell-fish was so
objectionable that I have never since been able to enjoy eat-
ing an oyster. . Rats’ interiors did not attract me. It was a
shock to me to see the laboratory boy, an ardent biologist,
making and examining with the microscope sections of his
own eye which had recently been enucleated. |] must confess,
though, to the tremendous fascination of watching and follow-
ing the development of living things from their tiny first
celis, and peering into the unsolved mysteries of the begin-
nings of being.

Professor Brooks was to me Just a laboratory director—
hardly a memory today. Professor Martin had a fascination
for his students. He had a poor delivery ; but the most intel-
ligent blue eyes I have ever seen, and wl
over some scientific recital they fairly d

The choice of Professors Martin and
of instruction in these brancl

1en he was stirred up
anced with excitement.
Brooks for the charge
les caused a great deal of dis-
trust of the University in church circles, especially of the
First Presbyterian Church where I was growing up, as it was
rumored that, though able workers. they were both atheists.WHEN THE HopkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

Dr. Martin was a favorite pupil of Huxley, and had absorbed

fully the beliefs and unbeliefs of that eminent teacher.
Toward the end of my four years at the Hopkins, women

students gave Professor Brooks much discomfort. Somehow,
several of them forced their way into the laboratory, which
had not been designed for coeducation. The men students
did not like to have them around; and occasionally one of
them would approach Professor Brooks with questions com-
ing up in their work, concerning sex, which, being excessively
modest, it distressed him greatly to answer. | think that
privilege of working there was with-

TY
I

after a year or so the

drawn, much to his relief.
One of the features of examinations at this date in the Bi-

ological department was the presence at the examination (I

suppose, tO emphasize its impartiality of a medical teacher

unconnected with the University. At one of my examina-
tions, Dr. Latimer was present. It was very alarming to a
timid pupil, and probably confused some really w ell-informed
students.

I had of course read a good deal about the delights and
advantages of Logic; and when a class in this was formed, I
joined it. About the third lesson, however, we propounded to
ourselves a problem so tangled up that we could not straighten

1

it out. It seemed to me that this sort of thing was a waste ot

time, and I quit.

There was also a class in elocution. The teacher was a jolly
little man who said ‘‘'C ..U..9 in the most: delight-
ful way. I resonated, to his satisfaction ‘‘The splendor falls
on castle walls’’: but when I attempted ‘‘ What a good thing

‘s fun! I have not much of it myself but I do like it in

others!’’ he clapped his hands on his stomach and seemed in
severe pain. I was a very serious-minded young man. I sup-
pose that this class was one of the ‘‘tentative’’ classes of that
early period. In my later years, I have many times failed in

debate of medical and other matters to impress my views on36 WHEN THE HopkKINS CAME To BALTIMORE
the audience, simply from lack of loudness of voice, which
under proper training could have been developed.

About this time I joined my fellow-students in a petition to
the Faculty for some sort of a gymnasium: but we were told
that there was no money for such improvements; and we were
advised to go down town to the city gymnasiums.

Little of the romantic hovered round the halls of my Alma
Mater. They are there today, if anyone cares to look at them,
—two old dwellings with high mansard roofs fronting on
Howard Street, and the two new laboratory buildings in the
rear; with the (later) Physics Building across Little Ross
Street. (I hope that, before the final change to business uses,
a fitting memorial will have been set up there of the birth of
the great Institution; a Mecca to educators and students for
all time to come).

Perhaps a poet might have found romance in the high
brick wall beyond Howard Street, where woman walked still
in sheltered medixval paths ;—woman, to this day the creat
Unknown Quantity in the equation of Civie Life: the Force
that, leaving its shelter. is yet to make or wreck our Amer-
ican civilization!

There was in one of these buildings, Hopkins Hall, a room
for public gatherings, about the size of the ordinary church
lecture room. Here morning prayers were read by President
Gilman, or in his absence Professor Morris. This little room
was freely opened on every possible occasion to the cultured
element of Baltimore society. There I came once, uninvited,
upon a reading to the Trustees. the Faculty, and their friends,
by Judge Dobbin, of ‘‘the Rose and the Ring;’’ with Thack-
aray’s queer illustrations thrown upon a sereen. There, on
another occasion, I heard the ruddy Professor Francis J.
Child lecture on English literature. I remember his render-
ing of English as Shakespeare spoke it, ‘Ol the Woorld’s a
Staazhe; an ol the mane and oomen merely Plyérs.’’WHEN THE HopPpKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

 

SYLVESTER

The delight of us students, however, was the rare reading
of a paper by old Professor Sylvester. The great bald dome
rising out of an abundant halo of gray hair, which stood out
about its equator like the rings on Saturn, the impetuous de-
livery, that magnetism which attends ‘‘the gentleness of great-
ness,’’ and the delicious confusion of manuscript which was
almost certain to occur before he got through, were irresist-
ible. There might be other geniuses in that able Faculty, like
Rowland (did he not on one occasion when asked in a court,
who was the leading Physicist in the world, quietly, and we
may believe truthfully answer, ‘“‘I am’’); but Sylvester was

the student’s pet and particular genius. They drew the most

head; and he enjoyed

absurd caricatures of his ineredible

] ] f

them and showed them to his friends. They told all sorts of

stories, some of them of the many-wintered chestnut variety,
about his absence of mind. ‘They mourned his departure
from Baltimore; and would ever stand rapt before his fine
red-robed portrait in MeCoy Hall.

Professor Sylvester (a fancy name assumed on emigration),
was an English Jew, born in 1814 (as Blondheim tells us),
who showed in youth unusual talent for mathematics; and
came to the University of Virginia before the Civil War as a
teacher in that department. While there, he aroused the
hatred of some of the older students by his open eriticism of
the ‘‘domestic institution’’ of Slavery. Two of them declared
that they would ‘‘get’’ the ‘‘semi-idiotie calculating boy”’’ at
the first opportunity. Sylvester bought a sword cane. One
day they attacked him, struck him on the head with a club,
and were proceeding to ‘‘put him out of commission’’ when
he threw off the cane and drove its concealed sword into the
assailant just over the heart. The fellow fell back crying
that he was killed, and Sylvester escaped to New York and
was home in London before he learned that his sword-point
had hit a rib and done no harm.WHEN THE HopPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

In London, he studied Law and was admitted to the bar.
There he made friends with another lawyer, named Cayley.
30th of them drifted permanently into mathematics. Some
years later, the world awoke to the fact that Cayley and Syl-
vester were its greatest mathematicians. Cayley said Sylves-
ter was the only one who could thoroughly understand him;
and Sylvester said that Cayley was the only one who could
thoroughly understand him. Sylvester was professor for fif-
teen years in the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich; where
he was retired at the age of fifty-five. Then the invitation
came to visit the new America created by the Civil War; and
help the great Greek teacher Gildersleeve to set the tone of
Baltimore’s new University.

He is said, even in his old age, to have been very peppery,
(an elderly colored servant in his boarding house here de-
scribed him as the cussinest old professor he had ever waited
on) ; but there was a rare strain of youth and poesy in his
nature.

Did not he and Simon Newcomer, the Astronomer, decide
after a long discussion that mathematics is poetry? And did
not Sylvester construct long poems on mathematical principles
for the benefit of friends in the Hopkins? One of these con-
sisted of four hundred lines, all ending in ‘‘—ind.’’ Their
subject was Maidenhood Unindovined. It closed with the verse:

Rose smells sweet, and soft spells lind,
Soft, smooth, sweet spell Rosalind.

His idea in this Study in Monochrome was that the constant
repetition of the same sound, like playing pieces on a single
violin string, gave the same delicious feeling as the lapping
of waves on the seashore.

He termed poetry ‘‘Phonetie Syzygy.’’ This definition
quite captivated the poet-musician, Sidney Lanier (whom I
saw only at a distance in his lectures, but whose befriending
in his poverty and obscurity by the Turnbulls is now one otWHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 39

the most beautiful traditions among Baltimore’s ‘‘old fam-
ilies’’

Absent-mindedness was exalted into a virtue by the exam-
ple of the old Professor of Mathematics. One story about him,
I know to be true. Living at the Mount Vernon Hotel, one
door from Mt. Vernon Place, he was found wandering there,
like Joseph at Shechem, by a fellow-professor to whom he
confided that for an hour or more he had been wandering,
going round and round the monument searching for the hotel.

Onee, the students alleged, he was found by a policeman
who did not know him, beside the Convent wall gazing rapt
into the sky. ‘‘ You must move on! You can’t stand here!’’
‘*Sh!’’ softly, with hand on the lips, was all the reply offered.
The Professor was thinking!

Two graduate students, Royee and Halsted, attended a lit-
tle society formed at one time among the students. Both of
them were members of Sylvester’s lecture class in Mathe-
matics. He punctuated his discourse, they told us, with ques-
tions :—‘‘Is that clear to you, gentlemen ?’’ ‘‘ Have I made that
point plain?’’ and at first they would answer that they un-
derstood or did not understand him. Later it dawned on
them that these questions were mere rhetorical ornaments to
his delivery, and that their answers confused him; that he was
not in the least concerned whether they understood him or
not. He was thinking aloud; and if they could not follow
him he could not stop to teach them.

When about to enunciate a remarkable proposition in class,
he would draw himself up until he stood on the very tips of
his toes, and in deep tones thunder out his sentences. He
would outline his lecture course for the season, and perhaps
in the first lecture would go off on a side line, never returning
to his original subject all winter.

One of the rarely gifted who could follow Sylvester’s flights
was a woman, Miss Ladd, who was one of the few who gained
admission to the University in those early years. Miss Ladd40 WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE
showed such remarkable ability in Mathematics that she be-
came a Fellow by Courtesy, and won her Ph. D.

After founding at the Hopkins the first Mathematical Jour-
nal in the United States, Sylvester, in 1883, accepted a call to
Oxford. He died in England ;—‘one of the Giants of the
Victorian Era.’’

GILMAN

President Gilman faced the problems of the Hopkins in a
way that completely won my admiration. A graduate of
Yale, and assisting in the organization of the Sheffield School
there ; a man of broad interest and great tact who did not seem
to fit into any of the specialties; he had won attention by a
brief administration as President of the University of Cali-
fornia. We students had an idea that history was his forte,
and there is some confirmation of this in his advice to a stu-
dent, ‘‘read Biography!’’ Almost from the beginning, he
was handicapped in his administration of the Hopkins by
want of means; and the addresses I heard from him were
largely appeals for money from anyone who could give it.

The method pursued by the inexperienced Trustees in find-
ing a President is interesting. They wrote to four leading
men in every large city,—a lawyer, a minister, a merchant,
and a professor,—and asked each correspondent to name some
one whom he considered suitable for President of the new
university. When the same person was named by several
correspondents, they gave special consideration to his quali-
fications.

President Gilman was a man of pronounced religious be-
lefs, and wanted to teach a Bible class in the First Presby-
terian Church, but they feared he would teach infidelity, and
refused his offer. This did not interfere with his regular at-
tendance there for several years. Realizing that the appoint-
ment of Martin and Brooks, though they were able workers,
had given an atheistic reputation to the University in local
church cireles, he established morning prayers (there was noWHEN THE HopKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 41

Dean as yet); and in every way took his stand as a Chris-
tian. The influence of Mr. Moody’s revival meetings was very
strong on young minds at that time, and curious to relate, old
Professor Sylvester is said to have sat on the revival platform
(probably in the First Presbyterian Church), and joined in
the singing!

Professor Remsen, also, took occasion in his lectures to say
to us that no one need be alarmed lest chemistry’s advances
should detract from the mystery of life; they only added to
the mystery.

President Gilman, like Sylvester, took kindly the caricatures
which the students got off on him. His reassuring smile when
he spoke to us was a great point of attack. He even bore
patiently the account of a fake baseball game which appeared
in the students’ paper. The Professor of Psychology or Was
it Logic) was sending in twisters to a specialist at the ba

when one of them, more than usually speedy, escaped the bat

and took the catcher (Gilman) in the pit of the stomac

knocking all the wind out of him. They laid him out on the

crass and spent half an hour trying to revive him. Finally,

the umpire called ‘‘time.’’ ‘‘It will take him,’’ said the um-
Cen

pire, ‘‘so long to get all his wind back, that if we wait for him
1

we can never finish the game!”’

President Gilman became a real Baltimorean; and took
open interest in the movements for civic improvement which
were on. at that time. I remember particularly a ‘‘Union

for Public Good’? gotten up by a young enthusiast; which

was to brine together all the agencies working for uplift of

our citizens. I was on a committee with the editor of the

Labor Union paper and had several meetings with him and
}

f Child

members of the Union, concerning the conditions <
Labor in Baltimore. Dr. Gilman (together with the Unitarian
minister and others) attended the meeting called for organ-
ization of the Union for Publie Good, but did not go farther.
I asked him afterwards, why? He said he distrusted the lead-
ership of the young man eetting it up, as he knew others of

his family.WHEN THE HopxKINs CAME 10 BALTIMORE

 

To the students, the President was like an older brother ;
always helpful; always wonderfully approachable. In fact,
as I look back to those ‘‘tentative’’ days, it seems to me as if
we were all, from the President down, just a big family of
students together ; every one busy and ready to help his neigh-
bor. There were examinations, but no published marks. I
know I passed; but how I stood in the class, I have never
heard. Twelve of us entered in 1876, and twelve graduated
in 1880. I have the diploma, B. A., somewhere. It was de-
layed, perhaps as much as a year ‘‘because they did not know
whether to put it in Latin or English.”’

Whatever the value of University education for business
life afterwards; I am sure, looking back fifty years, that to
my careful religious training, my studies at the University
added a breadth of view, an eagerness for the Absolute Truth,
a fearlessness in seeking it and a confidence in its ultimate
triumph which justify the Seripture quoted in part as the
Hopkins motto :—‘‘Tf ye continue in my word, ye shall know
the Truth; and the Truth shall make you free.’’ It is worth a
great deal to be freed by the Truth!CHAPTER V

AT THE OLD MEDICAL SCHOOL

RADUATING in 1880 as Bachelor of Arts from the

course preparatory to the Johns Hopkins Medical School,
I learned that there was no such school ready to receive me;
and that though there was hope of its opening in any future
year, there was no use in counting on this. The failure in
plans was not, as commonly believed, due to inability of the
3altimore and Ohio railroad to pay the expected interest on
its stock: but to some other cause unknown to me. The Med-
ical School was not to be on the Hospital foundation, but on
that of the University.

I was thus left high and dry through no fault of my own,
and turned to the old University of Maryland School of Medi-
cine for my professional education.

At this period this historic school was marking time, eager
to make changes required by the advance of civilization; but
unable to initiate anything new, because certain aged pro-
fessors, protected by the Charter, held on to their chairs, yet
would not join in any development requiring a dip into their
own pockets for money to pay for the improvements. For
a decade or two, the younger and more alert members of the
Faculty, unable to displace these estimable old gentlemen,
waited and prayed for something that would compel them
to let go. As soon as this happened, the Faculty rushed up-
to-date improvements and placed the Old School among pro-
gressive institutions.

My attendance on the Medical courses fell within this dis-
tressful period; and I had to take up a eurriculum for which
I was utterly unprepared. My Hopkins training only in-

creased my handicap, in some lines.44 WHEN THE Hopkins Came to BALTIMORE

Instruction at ee Old School following still the ancient
custom was largely by didactic lectures. The course was for
two years, and the eee of the first year were repeated in
the second. A professor might write out for himself a course
of lectures when he entered upon his chair, and read them
year by year to his classes in the great amphiteatre class-room
for the rest of his life; with such little additions and cor-
rections as occurred to him as the years rolled by. The sec-
ond year students knew all the anecdotes and rhetorical flour-
ishes and climaxes of eloquence by heart, having applauded
them the winter before. Professor Howard was particularly
given to poetie flights. There was one about ‘‘feelinge the
pulse of the morning dew”’ which he declaimed with so much
feeling that the class, even when they were expecting it,
drowned the next sentences with wild <¢ 1pplause ;—whieh al-
ways pleased him very much.

Some of the professors lectured without notes and held the
attention of their pupils, as well as the hard wooden ledges on
which they sat would permit: but ee was almost no pro-
eression even here—the same subjee
cuage.

t and much the same lan-

In palliation of this out-of-date curriculum, it is only fair
to state that in old times the student was expected to educate
himself in medicine and the school simply helped him to do
so by offering certain sugeestions as to method, and putting
him into a professional atmosphere. How great an advance
ven this was upon the ages that preceded it, one may learn
from Paget’s delightful Life of Ambroise Paré,

where, at
four in the morning,

the Paris medical professors lectured
in Latin to classes who under stood nothing but French :—the

honor of the U niversity forbidding its instructors to teach in

the language of ordinary people. Yet Paré became‘ Chief of
all Surgeons’’ to five successive Kings of France.

From the Univ ersity of Maryland there graduated every
year many able young men who got their bearings from the
lectures; drilled on the essentials in the Quiz Classes: andWHEN THE HopkKINs CAME TO BALTIMORE 45

either completed their training in the field of family prac-
tice, or went abroad to the centers of Europe for post-grad-
uate work.

The clinics of the professors, also, were faithfully attended,
and though at the beginning of the term an observer had oc-
casionally to be laid down on the bench to recover his nerve,
the class found themselves after graduation able to repeat very

successfully the operations they had seen performed by their

teachers, especially as the latter were always willing to be
present at and even act as assistants in the first operations of
their favorite pupils. The clinics also were well supplied
with medieal cases from the dispensary, and the graduate,
especially if he acted as dispensary assistant, had a very fair

knowledge of the treatment needed in ordinary cases of ill-
ness. The professors received a thousand dollars or so from
student fees, if there were no improvements of prope
equipment to eat these up; and were further remunerated by
consultations asked by the graduates in after years.
of men

As the professors (the equal as a whole of any body
in America) were engaged in treating the sick in office and
home, the lectures were intensely practical. In their clinics
they were the big brothers of the students, even enjoying lit-
tle jokes at their expense. I remember the amusement that
the military Chisolm got out of the diagnoses that I, with
others, made on the glass eye of a patient sent up from the
dispensary.

I suppose that nearly every one of the out-of-town first year
students had for a year or more been under a ‘“‘preceptor’’ at
home,—a local practitioner whose office he frequented, whose
books he read, and with whom he drove from house to house
assisting him in operations. When these young men came to
medical college, they came to work hard; for their own sav-
ings and the savings of their parents must not be wasted.

The Old School provided for Maryland, the States south of
her and a large district east of the Mississippl the only medi-
eal relief they had. Students said that west of the Allegha-46 WHEN THE HopkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

nies where they came from, not one doctor in ten had a dip-
loma. Of course this may not have been true, literally; for
in those parts a young man could buy a dipioma for thirty
dollars and set up an office on his nerve,—acquiring such fa-
cility as he was eapable of, by daily practice. The art of
medicine is after all only trained common sense. With com-
mon sense, a self trained man may in time become a fairly
good physician; without common sense, the more highly
trained a man is, the worse may be his treatment of the sick;
especially if he adds laziness and a swelled head.

The common sense of the public and of the less pretentious
graduate physician has down the ages safeguarded the profes-
sion against the false theories and fads of great teachers.

Many of my first year classmates had been in business as
salemen or drug clerks and knew pretty well the life for
which they were preparing themselves. I did not know! An-
ticipating an easy ascent in the Hopkins Medical School to a
position as a specialist or consultant, with high endorsement
from the start, in practice, I had secured no preceptor, and
no preliminary practical experience. One such bit of expe-
rience, I did have in a summer vacation of the Hopkins eur-
riculum. An ageressive graduate of the University of Mary-
land, named Gorsuch, settled near my Harford County home.
The “‘Squire,’’ or local magistrate had cancer of the lip: ‘ihe
surgeon asked me to assist, as I was talking about going to
medical school soon. He had another like medical aspirant,
also, helping him :—named Finney, I think. Such an opera-
tion on an advanced case in those days when trained nurses
were unknown was not nice. Finney and I stood our eround,
though, taking turns with our heads out the window for air;
and I felt I had proved my fitness for the profession of my
forefathers.

The first view I had of my class at the Old School made my
heart sink. The great amphitheatre had not stood the wear
and tear of a century as well as the majestic pillared portico
by which we had entered. There is never as much neatnessWHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 47

in the housekeeping of men as of women. Save for a remark-
able drawing in crayon on the wall opposite the entrance of
Anatomical Hall, of Raphael’s St. Michael and the Devil
(drawn there in 1835 by a student, Fred Butler, who got the
janitor to shut him in from Friday to Monday for the pur-
o decorations to relieve the general bare-

pose) there were 1
ness. It was not only the long semicircular wooden ledge on
which we were to sit,—but the students! Coming in strangers
from remote country districts, and intent on economy, the
boys wore their oldest clothes in class. The very oldest clothes
of a country youth, with a certain amount of negligeé added,
do not brighten up a room or give it style. I said to myself,
‘‘Are these the sort of men I am to make my life-work
among?’’ Later, I came to know and respect them, and I re-
member that at graduation, in their dress suits, hired, I sup-
pose for the occasion, they were as fine a company as one
would want to see!

In the distribution of the students informally among the
members of the Faculty for general supervision, I was more
directly attached to an old family friend, Professor Samuel
Claggett Chew. The son of an equally distinguished profes-
sor in the Old School, (whom my father once found enjoying
a Latin novel) he taught therapeutics; a cultured gentleman,
President of the Board of Trustees of the Peabody; illustrat-
ing his unwritten impressive discourse by occasional refer-
ences to ‘‘the Immortal Bard,’’ for he was a great lover of
Shakespeare. A scion of the colonial Southern Maryland
Quaker stock which gave to Pennsylvania her greatest jurists,
he represented dignity and culture in the Faculty. I don’t
believe the use of remedies in sickness could have been taught
better from his chair. He was among the ablest practitioners
in the country, and always a devout Christian of unblemished
walk before men. The students told me that he had one fault,
due I suppose to his Quaker ancestry,—he would not fight
for his students in the Faculty meetings (in the matter of
prizes, hospital appointments, ete., on graduation). ‘*How-
ard,’’ they said, ‘‘will fight for his students to the last ditch.’’48 WHEN THE HopPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

HowWARD

Professor Wm. T. Howard, whose chair of Gynecology and
Pediatrics was the first ever established in the United States,
impressed me as a very able general physician. He affected
roughness, but had a kind heart. His lectures were alleviated
by anecdotes of his early diligence (more or less fabricated.
I suspected). At the old almshouse, while the other resident
doctors were skylarking and roystering, he was searching
deeply into medical literature, burning the midnight oil.
That was how he attained to his position as their teacher! In
examinations, all oral, he would check a student,—‘‘ I don’t
want to know what the books say! What did I tell you?’’
He told us one story which greatly impressed me:—He
had graduated just at the time when the revelations of Laen-
nee reached America, and was full to the finger tips of aus-
cultation lore,—percussion, rales, rhonchi, souffles, the brwit
de diable, and the like. He located in a town of North Caro-
lina and presently had a child to treat, ill with pneumonia.
He made a fine analytical study of all the ‘‘signs and symp-
toms,’’ and having a memory for details prescribed the drugs
his professors had told him to give in such eases; but the lit-
tle child got worse. He felt sure it would die. The family
became alarmed. ‘‘Would Dr. Howard mind if old doctor
M———came in as a consultant?’’ He knew the old doctor
did not know a thing about auscultation or modern medical
advances, but the child would die anyhow; so he consented.
Old Doctor M————arrived, inspected the patient, retired for
private consultation: ‘‘What do you think, Doctor?’’ ‘‘It’s a
desperate case, Dr. Howard! Desperate! I think the child
will die. There is only one chance for life. Stop all your
medicines, and throw the windows open! Give him air!’ That
child got well, quickly!

 

The medical courses of fifty years ago were ill-equipped,—
but stories like that stuck in students’ minds: and the men
who told them were not failures in the lecture rostrum.z 49

WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMOI

 

Dr. Howard believed in calomel. ‘‘ When you see a remedy,

Gentlemen. coming down the ages, rejected, then again
trusted : there is value un she”
As an operator, he did the best he could. He helped Dr. Wil-

son to found the Hospital for Women,—a place es
were treated like ladies, even in operations. His great de-
light was in having ‘‘my friend, Dr. T. Addis Emm
on from New York and operate before the class.

As a subject for flattery, Dr. Howard was royal n
Disraeli say of Queen Victo ith o nal D
may 1! ib fla ery on wl h oul s R
must spread on 1a tall 0
liked appreciation of his virtues. He nevs d
his class at clinics how out of his own pocket he
the great window of the operating room. At my gri
I was in a small STOUDp waiting in! uch : nxit U) o go in to the
Green Room for Dr. Howard’s oral examination. We were t
70 In two by two. ‘‘Ton’t be nervous, Bond;’’ said my
panion, ‘“Watch me handle the old man.’’ He told Dr.
ard tha his lectures were bv ill odds tl Hect ( ad s 117

der in the college. He had made copious notes of the
would be the basis of his future practice. He would rem
ber all the wise advice and wonderful prescriptions whic
the doctor had given. Under such an Ajax-shield, little Teu-
eer also came through safely.

for grat

es
7

In those days if a student persisted in comi1
uation a sufficient number of years, undismayed by failure, he
always passed. The Faculty got tired of seeing him around
and graduated him to get ri
done the same!).

Professor Miltenberger taught obstetrics. Most patiently

—

and clearly he explained each detail; yet sraduated with-
out ever seeing a real case, and had to care for such cases
alone and without a trained nurse’s help!

Dr. McSherry was Professor of Medicine and the leading
consultant of the city, a man of highest ethical tone and arq

50 WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

vivid lecturer. ‘‘Gentlemen,’’ I remember him saying, ‘‘you
know we had a fatal epidemic of Typhus Fever in this city
some years ago. Our hospital was so crowded with these pa-
tients that we had to put some in tents in the yard. Every
one put wnto the tents recovered.’’ I called him into eonsulta-
tion later in a case of very severe tonsillitis. He told me he
did not know whether it was Diphtheria or not. We knew
nothing of diphtheria germs or antitoxin then.

It was a strong Faculty ; mostly able men who knew how to
appeal to their pupils. And the pupils who were in earnest
added ‘‘quiz classes’’ to their weekly routine. Either turn
about among themselves, or under a recent graduate, these
circles reviewed week by week the themes of the lectures and
drilled in the essentials of actual practice.

PADLOCKS

One old Professor had his own quiz class; You paid him five
dollars for his quiz and ensured your graduation as far as
Chemistry was concerned. Though only seventy-three years
of age, he was very defective in sight and hearing; and stead-
ily opposed all improvements. A very eminent teacher in his
prime, his classes were now a subject of ridicule among the
students. His lectures (on a subject not directly essential to
medical practice) were the only ones I ever attended where
the classes were locked in, to prevent their escape during the
lecture. The students’ single aim in this course was to grad-
uate; and this had been made certain by joining the profes
sor’s quiz. A student seated on or near the steps down into
the deep amphiteatre, becoming weary, would throw the
cushion, with which he softened the hard wooden ledge, up
the steps a little way. Then, when the professor’s back was
turned, would run up to the cushion, amid the applause of
the class. The professor, much puzzled, but seeing all quietly
seated would continue his lecture or experiment. When
another opportunity offered, the student would accomplishWHEN THE

>ALTIMORI 51

another stage toward the exit amid increased applause; the
Professor still more puzzled. Finally, after three or four
ascents, the student and his cushion would flee out the door,
amid applause that could be heard a block away. This exodus
continued spasmodically throughout the lectures, until the
janitor by his orders got a padlock and fastened his class in.

The final examination in chemistry almost proved my Wa-
terloo. On the strength of my ‘‘major course’’ in the lab-
oratory of the Hopkins, I thought I might safely neglect to
join the Professor’s quiz. I appeared before him in the Green
Room for final examination, and the first question he asked me
was, ‘‘ What is Phlogiston?’’ I did not know what it was, as
the chemical theory with which it was associated had been
exploded a hundred years before. I felt that I was facing
disaster! Fortunately, I remembered that the Professor had
been the chemical specialist in a famous murder trial, about
ten years before; so I engaged him for half an hour in a dis-
cussion of the merits of the case and was passed by him all
right. A few such victories, however, would have left my
nervous system a wreck.

I took the Tiffany surgical prize at graduation; and for
years Dr. Tiffany tried to make a surgeon of me; for |] had
the theory down fine; but practical surgery in those days, per-
formed in the patient’s home without trained nurses was t00
terrible. The long knife of my prize case I tried, by blunt-
ing its point, to utilize for a table carving knife; for it was
of the finest steel, shaped to pierce the hip and cut outward
quickly before the patient had time to bleed to death; but
housekeepers have prejudices, and today it lies in its case
unused.

CHLOROFORM

At that time the great battle was on, between Chloroform
and Ether. Chloroform was sure to quiet, but dangerous;
Ether was safer, but as then used, uncertain, for the anes-
thetized was liable to get up off the operating table and walk52 WHEN THE HopxKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE
away. Young surgeons began practice as advocates of chlo-

roform. Presently one of their patients suddenly died of
chloroform—thereafter they used ether. Among the Faculty,
Professor Chisolm stood alone as the champion of chloroform.
He was an impressive lecturer, concise, accurate, with the
voice and bearing of a military officer giving orders to his
staff. In the service of the Confederacy, he had treated the
first wounded of the War, at the firing on Fort Sumter, and
had written the standard Manual of Military Surgery for the
Southern armies. He told me a little of his surgical practice
in the four years before the War began. ‘‘I would operate,’’
he said, on a slave; and send the bill to his owner.’’ ‘‘Doe-
tor,’’ the owner would protest, ‘‘the nigger ain’t worth that
much. You can have him, for your fee.’’ ‘‘I don’t want
him,’’ Dr. Chisolm would answer. ‘‘And the master was al-
ways forced by law to pay the bill,’’ he told me.

When Dr. Chisolm eame to Baltimore, he announced him-
self as a specialist in eye surgery (he was a good one, too)
and somehow got on the Staff of the Old School as surgeon,
gradually specializing in the eye alone.

He attached himself to the First Presbyterian Chureh
(northern) and presently they built an eye and ear hospital
(by inter-church subscription) and put Dr. Chisolm at the head
of it. At the time of my graduation, he is said to have oper-
ated for cataract a thousand times; and to have administered
chloroform more than ten thousand times without a serious
accident. The rapid domestication of a Southern military
surgeon in a Northern church, when there was a Southern
church near by, and a certain disregard of Professional con-
ventions by him, must have prejudiced some of the Faculty
against him; although they could not deny his ability as a
surgeon. Professor MeSherry confided once to a circle of
pupils that Chisolm’s financial future was safe: for he had
thrown so much dust into the eyes of those Presbyterians
that it would take him all the rest of his life to get it out. It
was a subject of wonder with others of his colleagues, ‘‘howWHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

+

LO build-

Chisolm had managed to hypnotize those churches in
ing him a hospital.’’

Professor Chew’s only departure from his inherited Quaker
poise was when some one spoke to him of Chisolm’s use of
ehloroform. Dr. Chisolm considered auscultation of the heart
quite proper before chloroforming. I have seen him gravely
apply his ear to the chest of a patient lying ready for an eye
operation; ‘‘Heart perfectly normal! Go ahead with the an
esthetic!’’ Other surgeons, when a patient’s heart during
anxsthesia with chloroform stopped beating, would be alarm-
ed. Not so, Dr. Chisolm. When this occurred during an eye
operation at his hospital, he would have the head lowered
and the body raised and go on operating. ‘‘Gentlemen’’; he
would say to his class ‘‘when my patient’s heart stops under
ehloroform, I olve more chloroform!’’

Dr. Chew would become angry when we told him of this:—
‘“Chisolm auscultate the heart!’’ he would break out, ‘*Chi-
solm don’t know any more about auscultation than a cow!”’
How Professor Chisolm put it over till the end of his days
without accident, was a standing puzzle to the Baltimore

Profession :—but he did!
THE NEw ‘‘Oup ScHOOL’’

| have hesitatece to. paint: its shadows: intd this picture of
the Old Medical School as I saw'it’ fifty years ago; but who
wants a picture’ without’ shadows! ‘Phe :Old School is a part
of Maryland ;—a’stardy tree planted: by our forefathers which
has weathered the storms of more than a century and is today,
with graduates equalling the best in the nation, as strong and

young as ever.

The almost impossible task assigned to it in its charter; of
(without endowment) creating or annexing to itself all the
other parts essential to the formation of a University, has
been recently accomplished. Today it is a part of our ac-
Engineering, Ag-

 

eredited State University of five colleges,o4. WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

riculture, Education, Home Economies, Arts and Sciences;
and five schools—Medicine, Law, Pharmacy, Dentistry, and
Nursing; (also a Graduate School) ; with a total enrollment
of students of about four thousand. The colleges draw sup-
port from Maryland’s share of National school funds; the
schools are liberally provided for by appropriations of the
State Legislature.

The Johns Hopkins University is a great national or world
institution located at Baltimore. Maryland feels capable of
supporting another great University,—a direct product of
Maryland soil, embodying the best ideals and traditions of
one of the thirteen sovereign states which associated them-
selves into the national Union. The number of students in
the two Universities aggregates about the same. Working to-
gether in friendly rivalry, they will furnish to Baltimore even
more than her dreams of old,—diversified advantages unsur-
passed in the world. It is interesting to observe that the Agri-
cultural College planned by Johns Hopkins has found real-
ization at College Park.

The shadows in my picture of the Old School in its time of
distress will but accentuate the loyalty of the men who be-
lieved in the School and e«e¢ fy it faithfully till a brighter
day dawned.GHAPIER Vi

RESIDENCE AT BAY VIEW

FTER graduation from the Old School, with a solemn
Pee exacted by Professor Miltenberger as he handed
us our diplomas that we would never ‘‘be guilty of any un-
professional or ur-regular practice’’, the more ambitious mem-
bers of the class looked around them for post-graduate oppor-
tunities. I could, as prize-man, have had a position as “‘In-
terne’’ in the University Hospital; but I chose a year’s res-
idence at the Bay View Almshouse, where there were large
numbers of invalids (though mostly chronic), and where |
would be in the country. Seven others chose this service, Craig-
hill, Woods, Berst, Sanderson, Russell, Miller and Keylor. We
paid one or two hundred dollars a year for the privilege ; and
had two large rooms for our quarters, with four beds in each
room. We must have been a good-tempered lot; for during
the whole year’s residence, I do not remember a single quar-
rel. There were several slight illnesses among us; and one
of the eight fell desperately in love with a city girl and spent
his time praticing on the banjo; but I rather liked the double
duty this threw on me. We made morning and evening
rounds, carrying out the directions of the Visiting Physi-
cians, and getting many opportunities to practice a little on
our own responsibility. Analyses, and temperatures (for
there were no nurses other than inmates), with case-records
kept us quite busy.

There was a Druggist, Dr. Bartlett, a Roman Catholic who
was a sort of house-father to all who were seriously ll, see-
ing to their physical comfort and spiritual necessities. This
he did in such a tactful, kindly way that we internes were

ereatly attached to him; (especially as his drugs and drug-WHEN THE HopkKINs CAME TO BALTIMORE

work were first class) and received from him much valuable
advice. I believe that every large hospital of this sort ought
to have such a friend of the suffering in residence. Noticing
some peculiarities in his religious ways, I enquired the cause.
He said he was a Jansenist;—the only one of that ancient
sect I have ever known.

There were two visiting physicians, understood by us to be
politically appointed. One, of whom we thought little sci-
entifically, usually prescribed Carbonate of Ammonia in whis-
key for all ailments. The other visitor, Dr. George Reynolds,
was a physician of earnestness and good judgment, whom we
regarded very highly.

I knew him fairly well in my after life. He was the only
man I ever met who bid defiance to Angina Pectoris; recov-
ering from it and practicing for many years afterwards ;—
till at last he sank under the consequences, of a blow on the
head given him near the Washington Monument by a high-
wayman. I was told that when he had his first attack of
Angina, he went to bed for a month or more, and ‘‘hardly
moved a muscle in all those weeks.’’ Usually, the physician
of that day (its victims were very often doctors) when at-
tacked by this disorder, made his will, set his affairs in order,
and went ahead with his ordinary work till his time came.

Dr. ATKINSON

Dr. I. E. Atkinson, also, a Baltimorean of the highest
medical type, visited Bay View. Through political friends,
he had forced himself in as Visiting Physician without salary ;
desiring to perfect himself in Pathology, which he had begun
to teach in the Old School. He had won a place there as Der-
matologist, having gained in this specialty an international
reputation; and he later advanced through Pathology and
Therapeutics to a position as successor of Dr. Chew, a lead-
ine medical consultant in the city ;—winning in each of these

positions the confidence of all who knew him. The coming ofWHEN THE HopkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 5

the Hopkins changed things; but could not affect the repu-
tation he had built for himself as Baltimore’s ablest physician.
I won his friendship by writing my graduation thesis on
Eczema. I confessed to its striking similarity to the descrip-
tion by Duhring; but defended the rest mblance on the ground
that it was the only book I had on the subject. Under Atkin-
son, the advantages of residence in Bay View were tret led
We did a great deal of microscopic and chemical ana ysis ;

attempted to unfold the tangled symptoms of accumulated

chronic diseases in the paupers; and made some Interesting
therapeutic studies, such as testing out the value of Tincture

of Iodine internally in certain chronic malaria cases unal

fected by quinine. Sometimes we thought, on analysing the
results. that it had acted very beneficially ; but us it
no good.

There was no separate hospital ward in thos d al-

though in winter, when
population of close to a thousand
trained nursing, this being attended to by the more able pau-
pers. The negro wards were in the wings, above the pauper
insane wards: and as some of these latter wandered about the
corridors. I did not like night visits to the upper wards. Only
once. however, did I have to run for safety from the threat
of a beating by one of these wanderers.

Few of the regular inmates were brought to the almshouse
by poverty; the majority being the vietims of drug-habits and
vice. The main streets at that time were dotted with liquor
saloons, sometimes three or more to a block, from which the
most seductive odors floated out to the passer-by. Bay View
was at that time the only refuge from whiskey and opium to
be found in the city. We, internes, became very much at-
tached to many of the inmates who had found shelter here
from these drugs, including the woman who looked after our
rooms and tended us when we were sick: and when on rare
occasions they ventured confident to the city and fell; we were

{
clad when they got back to Bay View and helped them58 WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

to get on their feet again and make a new start. Many young
women, wrecked in the houses which the city licensed (by
fines) at that time, became our patients, and we watched by
the death beds of some of them. I would find frequently at
their bedsides handsomely clothed and bejeweled ladies who
kept watch on them and took them back to their houses when
convalescent. We, internes, did not think this was right! I,
personally, resented the sacrifice of our young citizens to
these trafficks and was glad when the city cut loose from
them. Dr. Atkinson was greatly embarrassed, on days when
he stayed with us to dinner, by finding that the pauper in-
mate waiting on our table was one of his classmates and fel-
low-graduates, now a wreck from whiskey and opium.

From my care of the pauper insane, I learned nothing; as
little attention was paid to them. The males were under the
keeping of an insane doctor. The women were in charge of a
kindly middle-aged woman, also insane, in a mild way; but
how, I never learned. When I made my morning rounds, and
asked her how the patients in her rooms were, she invariably
answered, ‘‘ Well, Doctor, all I know is. they’s all able for
their rations.’”’ One of my charges danced or jumped all day,
stcepped at a post standing in the yard; praying or cursing
as the mood seized her. Nowadays her need for exercise
would be understood and satisfied; as we have found that
erazy people have a reason for what they do, and try to find
what that reason is.

After staying a year at Bay View, I became eager to leave.
It seemed to me that long residence in such institutions made
people lazy. I left and went into family practice. In those
days few, even of well-to-do families, started medieal prac-
tice as physicians de luxe, as at present. On graduation, they
located in or near some district peopled by the poorer classes,
on the main thoroughfare, and set themselves to work learn-
ing actual practice by earing for the sick who were sure to
throng the office of the young doctor who was so attentive to
them. Among thrifty foreign immigrants, who no matterWHEN THE HopKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE
how poor at the Start, were sure tO Make good; ana
large families and were used to paying cash “‘in the old coun-
try,’’ the advance of the young doctor who attended to his
business was certain. In my district, the poorer classes were
negro, for these nearly all had white physicians at that time;
and as eventually these had to be excluded from the office, on
account of the prejudices, not of the doctor but of his well-to-
do white patients, progress was much slower, and many good

practitioners found their incomes in later life uncertain.
MepicaL TRADE

Ability to hold practice against competition in middle and
later life. is an art entirely apart from scientific and thera-
peutic accomplishment. I knew a doctor who could keep his
private hospital rooms and wards filled more successfully than
any one in the city; yet was so careless and out-of-date that
eventually he was forbidden to operate in his own wards. The
first I ever heard of Dr. Atkinson, on the contrary, was a
remark of the college janitor that he wondered such an able
physician had only negro practice, and so little of that. I
have a very pertinent letter from my erandfather, Dr. Thomas
E. Bond, to my father, of the same name. The old gentle-
man, after practising for some years here, and Serving as
medical advisor to the Board of Health, had given up his
practice ‘‘on account of his health’’ as the records read, (but
I strongly suspect on account of the nerve strain attending
the effort to support a large family from the fees received) ;
and was comfortable in the editorship of the leading Meth-
odist journal, in New York.

He writes—‘‘When I left Baltimore I feared you had not
naturally, and did not seek to acquire the tact—the address—
the social propensities which are necessary to the acquisition
of professional business. I know by observation that business
cannot be commanded by eminent qualifications, without the

eoncomitants I have mentioned. Dr. Davidge affectionately60 WHEN THE Hopkins Came To BALTIMORE

called by his students ‘‘the Father of the University,’’—my
preceptor and afterwards my partner, was very superior in
this respect to any man of his time—yet he never had a fair
proportion of practice. .. . I would not have you depart a
hair’s breadth from the strictest obligations of religious or
moral duty to acquire either business or reputation—nor from
your own sense or opinion of these duties. Do what you think
right though the world fall. God will take care of us.”’

I went with great scientific and professional enthusiasm
into private practice and had the same experience as my fore-
fathers, fully endorsing the ancient dictum that ‘‘ Medicine is
the Noblest of Professions and the Meanest of Trades.’’

Devoting myself to practice and the intensive study of my
cases, with always some clinical position in the dispensaries,
I broke myself down and had at the end of two years to stop
work altogether. A year of Post Graduate Study in the great
Hospital in Vienna, Austria, completely restored my health.CHAPTER VII

MEDICAL PRACTICE

TIOT

A S a physician, I always wanted to be a family practition-
4 er. 1 could have become a specialist (Mr. W. W. Spence,

i

who was the main backer of Dr. Chisolm in the First Pres-
byterias: Church, offered to secure me a place under him in
the new eye hospital), but a specialist's life had never ap
pealed to me. This prejudice against specialism was not
hereditary ; for the type of specialism now pr valent was un-

known to the generations before me. The special line of sub-

division in medicine or surgery followed by certain men 1n
my father’s time had been determined by aptitude developed
during many years as general practitioners. In fact I b

lieve there were, in the printed pronouncements of the Med-
ical and Chirurgical Faculty, definite injunctions against
the taking up of any Specialty by any member who had not
had many years of experience as a general physician or sur-
veon. It was considered that a doctor could not wisely handle
the diseases of a particular part of the body, unless he knew
thoroughly by practice the management of the whele body
in its illnesses. /\, W\ ) | \\ UY WI AZ (N

I suspect that nearly all of the leading specialists of my
younger days were engaged more or less in General Practice.
Dr. Alan P. Smith, Trustee and Consulting Surgeon of the
Johns Hopkins Hospital, who held a world record for lithotomy
(out of one hundred and twelve operations, losing only his
fifty-fourth and sixty-seventh cases), was popular in family
practice. He had relinquished the opportunity to follow his dis-
tinguished father in the faculty of the Old School, because
he always became interested in his operations before the class
and forgot to talk to the students about them, as he worked.
Dr. Frank Donaldson, Throat specialist in the faculty, occa-62 WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

sionally attended typhoid fever. Dr. Tiffany, even after he
became a leading surgeon of Baltimore, had his regular three-
month service as attending physician to the little children at
the Home of the Friendless. Chisolm practised only his spe-
cialty ; but he had had unusually wide experience already in
general and military surgery ;—an experience which, doubt-
less, gave him his immense self-confidence and operative suc-
cess.

I suppose men are constitutionally classifiable into indoor
men and outdoor men. If I had the choice between life in a
comfortable office as a specialist and life involving a tramp
or drive all day through the snow, I would choose the snow
and the sky and the wind roaring through the leafless trees.
The stirps antiquissima Bondorwm for six hundred years have
been country-dwellers, with a love for the outdoors inherited
from those ancient Norse Bonder who never left the ‘‘dal’’
beside the mountain-sheltered fiord but for the open sea;; and
who founded on the chilly shores of Iceland the educational
centre of Europe. To the true descendant of these Bonder
the bleakest countryside has an appeal; all Nature is alive
with interest; and the wild wind-tossed deep sea is the most
beautiful of created things.

Dr. Osler once remarked that all the preeminent physicians
of England have been men who became personal friends of
the families who looked to them for advice; grieved by their
misfortunes and sharing in their happinesses. This relation-
ship has doubtless formed part of the lure of family practice,
which has drawn and draws today into this ill-remunerative
ealling generation after generation, moved by the hereditary
instinct. There is for this type of physician an unusual fas-
cination in taking care of and guiding the family along lines
of health; and the families whom they have long attended are
far above the rest of the community in their understanding
and appreciation of health. It was to such men and to the
lesser clergy that the advance of civilization among the
““masses’’ was mainly due, before the newspaper and the mag-WHEN THE HopkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 63
azine entered this field, and before the teaching of health in
public-school textbooks, and by school physician and school
nurse began to educate children and parents systematically
in the knowledge of hygiene, rendering no longer necessary

perhaps the old type of family physician-friend.
CORDELL

Returning from Europe rested and better equipped for
family practice, I found an office in a more promising loca-
tion and took up the struggle again. No more break-down
for me! I had learned that lesson thoroughly! About this
time, the position of Librarian in the Faculty Library became
vacant. The Library Board decided that the Librarian must
conduct a Directory for Nurses. Dr. Cordell, the great medical
historian, was Librarian. I used to see him dusting off the
books gathered by his predecessors and hear him begging
physicians of the old medical families of Baltimore and Mary-
land to send him books and mementoes of bygone days. Es-
pecially was he interested in completing the files of extinct
journals, and of the London Lancet. In colonial days Balti-
more physicians formed clubs of a dozen men and subscribed
to this valuable journal which they handed from member to
member until all had read it. Some of these old journals ly-
ing about in offices and garrets could not be duplicated in
America; yet they would, as Cordell well knew, soon be carted
to the dump as trash.

When he was told that he must conduct a directory for
nurses, Dr. Cordell said it was beneath the dignity of a phy-
sician and he would not do it. Under insistence, he resigned.
It seems a pity that there is no place now in our Baltimore
Profession for this Cordell type of historian. Again and
acain in America one may see an enthusiast of this type re-
laced by a worker like myself who would not give the nec-
essary time to such things, or by a trained librarian who eared

nothing for them, or by a secretary who knew nothing of64

 

WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

them. For long periods in our city nothing has been done
along these lines, and priceless records and letters and me-
mentoes have been lost. But for Dr. Cordell there would be
practically no record of the history of medicine in Maryland;
yet Cordell received no decent financial recognition of his
labors, and passed his life in comparative poverty.

I considered him foolish to spend so much of his time and
thought in lines that brought him no adequate return in mon-
ey. A man of good education. serving throughout the civil
war with brevetted honor, his efforts to introduce higher
standards of medical education in Baltimore caused him to
be looked upon as an unpractical dreamer of impossible
dreams. That was my own opinion of him, until his histories
appeared and his dream of higher education for medical stu-
dents came true. The beginnings of our medical annals had
peen instituted by Dr. Quinan; but the publication was only
a small volume, and as Cordell declared, was full of inac-
curacies. Dr. Cordell worked very carefully, and with tre-
mendous expenditure of pains, and his indexes are fine. All
future annalists must draw from his storehouses.

The initiation of higher standards of medica] education had
an interesting story. Year after year Dr. Cordell solicited
the medical colleges of the city to send delegates to a meeting
for raising the standards, each year they met without prac-
tical results. The larger colleges were willing to require a
longer and higher course of study but declared it would sim-
ply be suicide for their schools to require three or four years
when those in other cities would continue to demand only two
years. I remember being told in the library (then on Eutaw
Street), ‘‘Cordell has called his committee together again to
raise the standard.’’ We all thought it a great joke. Sud-
denly something happened! Professor Friedenwald, the dele-
gate from the College of Physicians and Surgeons, made the
suggestion at this meeting, ‘‘that all the leading schools of
the country be invited to join in raising the standards.’’ The
problem was solved! There was no question of suicide now.WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE
The movement spread over the whole nation.

I learned from this that no one need be discouraged by
failures in advocating an important advance, for his persist-
ency may stir up some one else who can put the thing through.

THE LIBRARY

In the opening of the present Medical Library building, Dr.
Cordell had no part. The University of Maryland, however,
founded in 1903 a chair of History of Medicine, ‘‘the first
Professorship of this much-neglected department in Amer-
ica,’’ and honored Dr. Cordell by appointment to it;—very
appropriately, for one of Cordell’s favorite topics of conver-
sation was the need of Endowment for the Old School. Dur-
ing my service as Librarian in the old Atheneum building, I
met nearly all the doctors who kept up with medical litera-
ture. We had a full list of foreign and domestic medical jour-
nals; and many of out habitués kept themselves quite up to
date in this line. Dr. Atkinson was even laughed at by some
as a ‘‘journal doctor’’ who got all his ideas out of journal ar-
ticles and not from personal observation on his patients.
Among the most interesting visitors was Dr. Joel Adam Held-
man, a native of Hesse. Every Saturday he appeared in the
library with a large folder under his arm. From this he would
remove a week’s issues of several German medical ‘‘wochen-
schrifts,’’ to be replaced by the next weck’s issues. Another
of my friends was Dr. George H. Rohé, of the Physicians
and Surgeons, whose career illustrates well the versatility of
the old-time doctor. Originally, I think a printer, he studied
Dermatology in Boston, lecturing here later on that sub-
ject, and wniting a text-book on his specialty. He served for
a time in the United States Signal Service, and afterwards as
Acting Assistant Surgeon, U.S. A. He wrote a text-book on
Hygiene, and became Health Commissioner of Baltimore. He
next held a professorship in Materia Medica, and thence de-
veloped into an obstetrician and gynecological surgeon. His66 WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

   

closing years were devoted to the Superintendence of our
State Hospitals for the insane; where he introduced valuable
reforms; but was unable to try out his startling method of
curing insanity by gynecological operation, because of the ob-
jections of the committee controlling the institution.

The old colored janitor of the library, ‘‘Doctor Simms,”’
interested me very much. He professed to be a Thomsonian,
the only practitioner of this once popular medical cult whom
I ever knew. It was Thomsonianism which broke the control
of the Medical and Chirurgical Faculty over the practice of
medicine in Maryland, and first successfully withstood the
devastating fad for bleeding, calomeling and depleting which
held America in its grip a century ago.

THOMSON

Thomson was, I believe, a genuine medical investigator and
therapeutic pioneer, dwarfed by lack of education. People of
this era would hardly believe the story of reputable practice at
that day. Every doctor carried his lancet (a thumb lancet to
be held between the fingers, or spring lancet to be released by
a spring’) to open the veins of his patients. Children even un-
der two years of age might in Diphtheria be bled five ounces;
but an ounce to a year was stated as a good rule for children.
For robust adults, about two pints was considered a full bleed-
ing, but Watson saw four pints and a half drawn from a
strong young man with acute dropsy,—with prompt recovery.
In the hands of injudicious practitioners the lancet was a
weapon of terrible possibilities for harm. The death of Wash-
ington is often ascribed to the bleedings the doctor gave him
for a cold he had caught.

A bleeding was so inevitable, that experienced patients, tak-
ing to bed for any illness, prepared towels, basins and ban-
dages against the doctor’s arrival. The more scientific doctor
bled for the ‘‘buffy coat,’’ a certain appearance of the blood-
clot in the basin. If he did not get the buffy coat, he cut an-WHEN THE HopkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 67

other vein. Old text-books tell of the indications for treat-

ment afforded by the buffy coat, but these are today hard to
understand. I can fancy, however, the learned discourse of
the old doctor, seated beside the high, curtained bedstead, as
he pocketed his extra fee for the operation and wiped his

lancet. The purging with calomel was severe, and its pro-

longed use in chronic eases debilitating ;—‘‘Her complexion’
said an old-time doctor, ‘‘was compounded of the rose and
the violet. Under a course of mercury she was blanched, in
six weeks, as white as lily.’’ The general principle was that
in inflammations and fevers the body is over-excited, over-
acting, and needs to be toned down. Fever patients, acci-
dent cases, women bearing children, were purged and bled,
bled and purged. Sometimes, with very strong people, this

1
+

must have done good: but the wreckage among the weak must

have been terrific. The great professors of Philadelphia and
elsewhere taught it, and the lesser practitioner dared not but
follow them, although secretly, as far as they could, many
doubtless tempered it. The common sense of the public often
revolted, but this was considered mere insolence; as is, today,
any criticism by the common people of professional fads in
any department of science.

The Yankee, Thomson, would not be repressed. He did not
believe that parturients and people with enfeebling ailments
ought to be bled and purged. He said so; and he kept on
talking:—ignorant talk to ignorant people. Finding that
talking did no good, he acted! He thought sick people needed
strengthening. He fancied that warming up their inside
would be a good way to begin. A hot tea would do more oo0d
than a purge or a bleeding.

What would make the stomach inside feel good and hot?
He went about the countryside chewing things—to find some-
thing hot. Horseradish was warm, but it did not make a
ood tea. One day he came across some red peppers hanging
up outside a cottage. He chewed some. ‘Help! Water!’
Here was something that would make a warming tea. A68 WHEN THE HopkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE
mainstay of his practice thereafter was Red Pepper Tea. Very
comforting in the chilly New England winters; ;and cheap !—
Two Yankee essentials!

He fancied something to tone up the inside would be good
for weak patients. What would tighten up your insides? He
wandered through the woods, chewing a bit of every herb and
bush and tree he came across. Oak bark was his find. It cer-
tainly can ‘‘dror things tight.’’ Oak bark tea was added to
his medical equipment. It also was cheap!

People began to talk about Thomson’s teas. ‘‘Mrs. N. was
at death’s door from purging; but Thomson’s Oak Bark Tea
brought her round.’’ ‘‘Little Johnnie R. was weak from
fever and bleeding; but Thomson’s Red Pepper Tea warmed
him up and gave him appetite.’’ ae

Thomson was encouraged. He made a lot of teas for dif-
ferent ailments,—searching woods and gardens. For grown-
ups, with chronic ailments requiring long-continued treat-
ment, he prepared, not teas, but herb remedies steeped in good
West India rum! That won him approval everywhere!

He developed his teas and his herb remedies (rum basis)
into a system of practice! and he patented the System in the
Umted States Patent Office! He sold the rights to use it to
physicians all over the country. If all the doctors of a town
would pay the money down, he would give that town the
rights. Else, not a drop of his remedies should the people
there swallow.

I later met a nurse who was a Thomsonian. She lent me
her textbook, edited and enlarged by Thomson, Junior. ‘‘The
best proof,’’ said the editor, ‘‘of the truth of my father’s
teachings, is that they have stood the test of so many years.”’
I carefully went over the remedies listed and used in this
Thomsonian book, and found they were, (I think without
exception) listed, with their properties and values in disease,
in the booklets issued by Parke Davis and other great pharma-
ceutical houses.WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE 69

In the hey-day of its success, however, Thomsonians went
before the Maryland Legislature and broke the right of the
Medical Faculty to pass on all applicants for practice in the
State ($10 fee). Many efforts of the Faculty members to re-
eover its charter rights were unavailing, and about the time
when the Hopkins was established here, the Faculty definitely
gave up the effort. When I graduated from the old Medical
School, any one who chose could put up a ‘‘shingle’’ and call
himself a doctor. Not many years later, however, the Ex-
amining Boards were appointed.

I never talked much with Doctor Simms about Thomsonian-
ism. I don’t know where he got his right to practice the sys-
tem; or how he acquired the title of Doctor. At that time
‘‘Doctor’’ was an honorary title conferred by their acquain-
tances on colored men who drove the buggies of popular white
physicians. Doctor Simms told me that in addition to Thom-
sonianism he practised also according to the Conjunctions of
the Planets.

Also, being exceptionally broad-minded, he used a water
treatment in the form of hot baths. ‘‘De disease material,’’
he explained to me, ‘‘lays between de innen and de outen
skin: and de hot bath drives it out to de suffus of de outen
skin. Den dey takes a towel and rubs it off in rolls.’’ The results
of his practice were in this respect, at least, admirable; and
his explanatory theory was quite as reasonable as a number
of other theories gotten off by eminent medical men. (There
were at this time, probably several well-educated colored
physicians in Baltimore. In 1882, Dr. Winsey, a Harvard
eraduate, had been admitted to membership in the Medical

and Chirurgical Faculty.)
DirEcTORY FOR NURSES
In my little office on St. Paul Street, at the front of the

Atheneum Building, which contained the library, I conducted
the official Directory of the Medical and Chirurgical Faculty.70 WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

 

When I took charge, in 1887, not a single nurse was being
graduated in Baltimore. The Bon Scour Sisterhood located
here about that time, but they were too few to make much
impression. On my registry lists of nurses were over sixty
““nurses,’’ female and male, listed by the Committee in Charge
as of sufficient character and experience for the service. I met
the other day a lady who says she entered the Directory in
1887 from Massachusetts, and that she was one of the two
first graduate nurses who came from the North to live and
nurse in Baltimore.

Some of the female nurses on my lists were very fine wom-
en; graduates of American or European training schools; but
these were so popular that I hardly knew them by sight. Many
of the others had been crowded out of cities in the North or in
Great Britain. One of the best trained was liable to wear her-
self out in devotion to a case and then fall to drinking. One
or two were found to be opium eaters, and had to be expelled
from the Directory for trying to teach the habit to their
patients. The great majority lacked systematic training.
They had perhaps been invalids in hospitals; nad helped
about the wards during convalescence; had then nursed a few
private patients for the doctors who attended the hospital;
and been accepted for the Directory on written recommend-
ations from these doctors and their patients.

As a physician in this city, if one of his patients needed a
nurse, was expected personally to look for one, and to spend
perhaps half a day in the search, very moderate accomplish-
ments in the nursing line were acceptable, and the Directory
was, naturally, much appreciated. The Committee in charge,
being all of them men, were kindly in judging nurses’ faults.
One of the nurses gave a patient a teaspoonful of carbolic
acid by mistake, without serious damage. I wanted to drop
the nurse from our list; but the member of the Committee
whose patient she had dosed wrongly, refused to do so. He
said that if I knew how the husband of the invalid had wor-WHEN THE ‘AME TO

ried that nurse, I would not have been surprised at anything
the nurse did.

There were nine male nurses on the list during my first
year, all undiplomaed; who had been orderlies in hospitals.
They were, with a few honorable exceptions, doubtful assets,
on account of their habits and slight regard for obligations.
One, with a listing as a masseur, gave such a vigorous treat-
ment to a patient at his first visit that he became too “raw os
for further treatments. Another, however, whom I sent to a
wealthy Baltimorean with delirium tremens, proved so ac-
ceptable, that he served as valet to his patient at his wedding
during temporary convalescence.

In the course of my administration of the Directory, the
College of Physicians and Surgeons began to send out from
their Maternité certified young women who had had six
months of special training in that Institution. This helped
me a good deal, as I used them in other lines of nursing, and
could always trust them to do their best. They told me their
troubles in the cases I sent them to, and the inconveniences
they had to put up with being very young and serving in an
unorganized profession. JI remember one incident :— ‘ Doe-
tor Bond,’’ the young nurse said, “‘I think they treated me
very badly. The old lady [ was nursing’ died in the middle of
the night, and every one of the family locked herself into her
left in the sick room. Presently the

own room and I was
undertaker came: and while I was helping him, | fainted.
There was nobody there but me and the undertaker and the
corpse; and the undertaker brought me to!’’? I have ever since
reoretted that I was not an artist, for that scene of ‘‘the un-
dertaker bringing me to’’ would have made a picture for the
Academy.

LITERATURE

After several years of Directory management, SO SUCCESS-
ful (on account mainly of the great need) that I had to have
an assistant, Dr. T. A. Ashby said to me one day, “Dr. Bond!WHEN THE HopPpkKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

You are at a danger point in your medical life. I have no-
ticed that when a young general practitioner has accumulated
enough practice to enable him to ‘‘get along some way’’ he is
apt to lose interest in his profession except as a source of in-
come, unless he becomes interested in its literature. I want
you to take a department (children) in my Maryland Medical
Journal, and furnish me weekly with one or more columns of
abstracts along that line.’’

With this kind warning and send-off I began to write. I
got paid for editorials in the Maryland Medical Journal and
from materials in the library wrote editorials for two great
New York journals, until I was supplying at times more than
half of their editorial columns. With this and income from
practice I felt able to give up my position at the library.
Later I held for couple of years the editorship of the Mary-
land Medical Journal.

ACADEMY OF MEDICINE

My service as librarian and as editor brought me into close
contact with many of the most efficient practitioners of the
city, and this friendship was accentuated by membership in
the Baltimore Academy of Medicine. This membership was
limited to physicians of ten years experience in medical prac-
tice; but any younger graduate who could write a thesis
judged equal to this amount of experience might be elected to
the Academy.

Immediately after my return from Vienna, I wrote a paper
on the Phenyl Hydrazin test for sugar, a practical working
out of a theme much dwelt on by the great specialist Ultz-
mann in his clinics. The paper won a prize of fifty dollars
offered annually by the older members of the Academy, and
was published by Dr. C. C. Bombaugh in his Life Insurance
Journal.

The Academy was an institution that ought to have sur-
vived. The leading specialists and general practitioners of3ALTIMORE

 

WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO

the city met there most informally, and presented clinical
experiences safe in the confidence that they would be treated
like gentlemen. There Miltenberger and Chew, of the Old
Medical School, swapped experiences with H. P. C. Wilson,
P. C. Williams, Chew Van Bibber and others who held no col-
lege position but had large personal followings. I remember
with interest Dr. Christopher Johnston, Emeritus Professor
of Surgery in the Old School, ‘an acecomplished gentleman,
an expert artist and microscopist, and a skilful surgeon,’’ as
he showed us through his fine microscope diatoms and other
mysteries or demonstrated the polarization of light.

Dr. H. P. C. Wilson was an enthusiastic pioneer in Gyne-
ecological Surgery, and one of the founders of the Woman’s
Hospital, which I fancy retains to the present day much of his
genial Eastern Shore spirit. I was told that every year he
went on to New York for several weeks to familiarize him-
self with any new advances in his specialty,in that birthplace
of American Gynecology, where Marion Sims labored and
suffered in his earlier years.

The jolliest doctor I ever knew was, | think, old Dr. W.
Chew Van Bibber, a man of very large general practice who
had years before initiated the specialty of Diseases of Chil-
dren at the Old School. Actually, the patient would be on
the way to recover before Dr. Van Bibber had been in the
room two minutes. Medical science was not his strong point,
and he did not shine in his disquisitions on ‘‘microorgasms”’
to the newly introduced Hopkins laboratory chiefs. He un-
derstood human nature in its distresses, however, and his con-
fidence in his well-tried medicines gave them healing power.
(I have always believed that there is genuine healing power
in the mother’s kiss which is the panacea for all the minor
sufferings of childhood; and that the mother’s shoulder has a
true sleep-persuading power over the insomnie child. Once I
put a desperately wounded, restless boy to sleep by pressing
his wrists tightly ; and for several hours whenever he seemed74 WHEN THE Hopkins Came To BALTIMORE

about to wake, sent him back into deep sleep by renewed pres-
sure. I believe this simple remedy saved his life.)

It was a treat to see the old doctor in the little circle of the
Academy of Medicine. Dr. Wilson would be telling, perhaps,
of the almost precipitate action of a forty-grain dose of calo-
mel in the olden time down country, when a funny incident
would occur to Dr. Van Bibber. His face would prepare us
for the telling, and he could hardly keep in his seat with ex-
citement till the other had finished. Busy older general prac-
titioners had no time for the research and clerical work nec-
essary in the preparation of formal papers; and in those days
the stenographer and her typewriter were not at his command,
as now. It was in the informal, friendly medical circle that
the younger men gathered practical points from the expe-
riences of their elders.

MATERIALISM

At the time of which I am speaking,—the time when the
Hopkins began, a materialistic wave had burst over medicine
and threatened to reduce practice to a medley of mathematical
formulae. The patient was viewed as an animated test tube
full of germs which must be killed, to restore health -:—so
many germs, so much poison to kill them, and the patient is
cured! The disease-germ,—the agent in the production of dis-
ease, was Imagined to be the cause of the disease, whereas
the cause of disease is really the failure of the self-protecting
powers of the body,—the Vis Medicatrix Naturae, of which
the ancients were so fond of talking. The older practice of
acting simply as a helper of the body in its fight, of giving
now a tonic to the whole body, or to a particular organ, to help
it do its work better; again, a medecine that would carry away
poisonous accumulations through the bowels, kidneys or skin;
again, a medicine which would help the nervous system by
deepening the sleep ;—these reasonable measures were aban-
doned for a fierce war against germs. In abdominal opera-WHEN THE HopKINs CAME TO BALTIMORE 19
tions the great peritoneal cavity was sprayed with antiseptics,
earbolie acid solution, ete., before closing the incision, to kill
the germs which might have gotten in from the air; every
inward surface of the body was douched liberally with strong
cermicides; efforts were seriously made to sterilize by means
of medicines by the mouth, the whole digestive canal! There
was a total disregard of the self-healing powers of the body
and of the feelings of the patient. In typhoid fever the ice
ruthlessly administered

bath was declared to be a panacea, s
that the patient, especially a child, spent the hours between
the baths in terror of the coming immersion. For a time the
idea prevailed that in typhoid fever the main thing was to
keep the temperature normal, and as a substitute for the cold
bath some practitioners actually kept vt normal in their pa-
f

tients by the depressing new drug Acetanilid. Instead «
considering himself as the ring-master in the arena, seeing to
it that the body had a fair fight with disease; the doctor him-
self engaged in a fight with disease over the prostrate body
of the patient, and many an ‘ll-directed blow landed on the
poor sufferer. ‘‘Sometimes,’’ confessed one of my old med-
‘eal friends, Dr. B. B. Browne, “‘it seems to me that the lit-
tle life left in the patient was snuffed out by the electric cur-
rents the doctors applied to strengthen his heart.’’
Gradually, the common sense of the public, the protests of
nurses and the conservative attitude of many experienced
practitioners revived again a respect for the body’s healing
powers. Some older men among us were outspoken in their
anxiety for the future of the profession. I shall never forget
walking home one night with Dr. Miltenberger from the
Academy of Medicine how he suddenly burst out, ‘Doctor!
They have gone back thirty years! They are treating disease,
and not the patient!’’ I myself learned in long-continued
cases,—to stop all medicines occasionally for a day or two and
Sometimes I found that the drugs I was
or even harmful. The daughter of an
* one-tenth of

oet my bearings.
using were useless;
elderly patient once told me that the placebo o1WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

a grain of Bromide of Soda which I had furnished her moth-
er for the purpose just mentioned was the best medicine I
had ordered during the whole course of her illness.

I should not be a true historian if I passed over the many
efforts, often mixed with quackery, which have been made to
heal disease through the agency of the self-healing powers of
the body. One of our most distinguished Mayors cured his
rheumatism by (or while) carrying a potato in his pocket. I
have known of malaria being cured by (or while) wearing a
little table salt in the stocking. Pure Hahnemannism (often
called Homeopathy) consists in putting the body to bed; giv-
ing it a fine flushing out with water taken hourly with the
infinitessimal drug-nothings; and stimulating the nervous
system to its best work by hope and confidence of ultimate
recovery. It is a good system in those cases where the bowels
and kidneys do not quit work and go into a sort of spasm at
the onset of the illness. Mixing his Hahnemannism with
little undetected excursions into the realm of active drugs on
occasion, a homeopath possessing common sense was often the
best doctor in the village. The celebrated instance in old
times where the Panama Beans obtained ‘‘with great diffi-
culty’’ for a malarial patient by a leading Baltimore home-
opath were discovered to contain sulphate of quinine coated
with gelatine made a delightful story for ‘‘Regular’’ circles.
Homoeopathy received what seemed to me an unfair blow
“below the belt’? when some years ago the Regulars induced
the best equipped Homeopaths to join the Medical and Chir-
urgical Faculty as ‘‘not Homeopaths, but Physicians who at
times used Homeopathic measures in appropriate cases.”’
Hahnemann’s theory of treatment, however, took no account
of the self-healing powers of the body, but was a direct attack
by aid of the highly spiritualized medicine upon the disease
seated in the spirit of the patient.WHEN THE HoPpKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

   

OSTEOPATHY .

A very ingenious working theory concerning the self-heal-
ing power was the basis of Osteopathy, as originally taught
by its American Founder. He taught that there is in every
part of the body a healing liquid which circulates in its own
special vessels or channels and, when this circulation is unin-
terrupted, vivifies the tissues and protects them efficiently
trom all diseases, however fierce their onset. Sickness, there- '
fore, can occur only when this circulation is interrupted. Such .
interruption is produced usually by pressure of a displaced |
bone upon the special vessels,—through fracture of the shafts
of the bones or dislocation of the bones at a joint; of which .
(laree and small together) there are a great many. The phy-
sician’s only duty was to search for the place of pressure
(often in the most unsuspected location) and, finding it, to .
reduce the fracture or dislocation. The Founder was so sure

that he was right that no anatomical proof of this circulation
or of its vessels was attempted or considered desirable. His
ideas nevertheless were taken up with enthusiasm, and from
them several more or less vigorous schools allied in clinical
method to massage, have been evolved. The self-healing pow-
ers of the body are certainly strengthened by anything that
cheers and comforts the mind; and intense absorption in
religious or other happy thought-processes not only gives bet- '
ter play to the self-healing agencies, but gives time for the
body to work out its own cure. The defenders of the various

types of mind-cure and faith-cure, of homeopathy, and Chris-

tian Science (or more properly Eddyism) very wisely be-

little anatomical studies or demonstrations of the seat or

symptoms of the disease, and lay special stress on the patient’s

recovery of his health.
I think I have in these fifty years since I began my pre-

liminary studies in the Hopkins, outlived all sectarian pre-
judices as to how physicians should attempt to guide the sick

to recovery. I believe that no one should be permitted prac-78 WHEN THE Hopkins CAME TO BALTIMORE

tice until he knows something of the body, of the nature of
disease, and of the actions of the various agencies used in
treatment; but after he has obtained a sufficient knowledge
of these things, he should be permitted to practice as he thinks
best,—subject to the laws of the State and of Common Sense.
I have had friendly relations with adherents of many medical
fads and have studied their systems carefully. Once I had
the pleasure of watching the body throw out an infection in
a tonsil, by means of a large ‘‘abscess,’’ in a lady who said °
she had “‘a belief of an old-fashioned sore throat.’’ It cer-
tainly was a bad crowd of beliefs. She was a practitioner of
her cult herself; but the beliefs increased till her throat was
nearly closed, and she called in a consultant. The body’s
self-healing process had now thinned the abscess-walls almost
to bursting, and the consultant told her to go home and think
no more about it as she was well. When I saw her next day
she was very happy in the consultant’s cure by ‘‘Science’”’
and told me that a great quantity of the most horrible mat-
ter had come from her throat. I congratulated her on her
recovery and told her she ought to be thankful she was rid
of such an accumulation of bad thoughts. She was of the opin-
ion that I was really a ‘‘Scientist”’ myself. To sick children,
however, I believe that the community stands naturally in
the relationship of Guardian: and it ought to see to it that
they have the best treatment known in our city.

THe New MeEpIcInNr

The new medicine, of which the Hopkins School and Hos-
pital and the School of Hygiene are embodiments, has opened
a new field of scientific discovery ;—the revealing through lab-
oratory research of those agencies by which the body overcomes
disease—germs and their poisons; the surface defenses: and
the poison-destroyers produced by the blood itself. The liter-
ature on this theme, issued from many laboratories in many
nations is already enormous.WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 79

The further investigation of the means by which the body,

.s :
qaiseases, lS

havine once won a fight against certain epidemic

long immune to their assaults, has always been a subject of

special interest to Dr. Welch, its chief exponent here.
This new medicine wages war against sickness on two
fronts:—First by searching for the outside breeding-places

of its poisonous agent, and for the means by which it 1s car-

ried to patients,—in order to lessen its virulence, to destroy
and, second, by

developing generations of men and women and children so

realthy that their bodies by their own powers shall

strong and |
beat back infections which have attacked them, without ever

its breeding-places and to prevent carriage ;

hecoming sick. As the banishment of sickness Irom the com-

munity requires that every citizen shall live intelligently,
cleanly, happily and wholesomely, this new medicine takes

r bringing in a

its place among the most potent agencies f0
lization for the whole human race, higher, more
has preceded it.

i

<

new era of Civi
kindly and more practical than any which1796
1800
1813
1818
1839
1840

1841
1848

1850

TO

a“ 1870

cer, ‘

 

 
  
   
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  

CHAPTER VIII

CALENDAR OF SCHOOLS FOR
YOUNG LADIES
IGHER education of women, checked by the Reforma-

tion, is resumed in the United States. Margaret Mer-
‘a daughter of our Revolutionary Aristocracy’’, becomes

the leading teacher and trusted guide of the young women
of Maryland.

The Methodists offer to young women a high grade co-
education in Cokesbury College, relocated in Baltimore.
Mrs. Priestly conducts a popular young ladies’ school
here.

Miss Hoffman takes a medal at Miss Lyman’s school,
Philadelphia.

Misses Blackburn have a large female seminary here.
Miss Hall’s Dame School, Fayette near Asquith Street.
Misses Morris attend Mr. Clark’s popular Baltimore
school.

School of Mr. Adkins (later an Episcopal clergyman).
Baltimore Female College (Methodist) opens under N.
C. Brooks.

Miss McDowell has a school for little boys and girls.
Miss Letitia Tyler Semple (once Lady of White House)
has a girls’ finishing school on Hamilton Terrace.

Mr. N. H. Morrison (later Provost of Peabody) has a
girls’ school.

Baltimore Collegiate Institute for Young Ladies, (Jar-
boe, Pres’t).

Mrs. Jones has a school for girls on Mt. Vernon Place.
Mrs. Cary’s Southern Home School for Young Ladies
lays special stress on social graces. A daughter sang
‘Maryland, My Maryland’’ among the Southern sol-
diers at Manassas.1871

1876

1882

1888

1788
1788
1790

1799

1807

   

   

WHEN THE HopPpKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE 81

Miss Kummer and Mrs. Lefebvre have a high grade girls’
school.

Misses Adams have English and French School for
girls.

Misses Hall have a very popular school for girls.
Misses Bond conduct the Mount Vernon School.

The Woman’s Medical College;—high standards, but
no endowment.

Goucher College opens;—the crowning gift of Meth-

odism to the women of Baltimore.

MEDICAL CALENDAR
Dr. Wiesenthal founds a medical society in Baltimore.
His school (of anatomy only) is wrecked by a mob.
Dr. Wiesenthal and Dr. Buchanan found a medical
school here.
The Medical and Chirurgical Faculty (State Med. Soc.)
is founded.
The Medical School, University of Maryland, is char-
tered.
Washington University Medical School, refused by Leg-
islature, gets Pennsylvania charter.
The University of Maryland, to Medicine and Law, adds
Arts and Sciences (the Balt. Coll.).
Washington Medical College obtains incorporation in
Maryland.
Baltimore College of Dental Surgery (the first in the
world), is incorporated by Drs. Hayden, Harris and
T. E. Bond.
Washington Medical College obtains powers as a Uni-
versity.
Washington University is closed and sold for debt.
The charter of Washington Medical School revived by
physicians and surgeons of Confederate armies.1787
1796

1797
1799

1800

1801]

1818
1829

1830

 

 

WHEN THE HOPKINS CAME TO BALTIMORE

 

College of Physicians and Surgeons splits off from
Washington College.

3altimore Medical College is founded.

Woman’s Medieal College is founded.

Johns Hopkins Hospital opens.

Johns Hopkins Medical School opens. (There were now
eight city medical schools white and colored, turning
out graduates. )

CALENDAR OF EDUCATION (General)

First college (Interdenominational) in Baltimore opens.
Cokesbury college, rebuilt in city, (Methodist; Coedu-
cational).

Maryland Academy of Sciences founded.

Academic Department, St. Mary’s Seminary (R. C.)
opens.

John P. Kennedy attends lower grades of Priestly’s
Academy.

Baltimore Free School opens in Light Street Methodist
Parsonage.

3altimore College (non-sectarian) opens; from schools
of Priestly and Knox; Archbishop Carroll, President
Board of Trustees.

St. Mary’s College (at the R. C. Seminary), becomes
a University and two years later is proposed to the
Legislature as a department of the University of Mary-
land.

Asbury College (backed by the Methodists) opens.
First Publie School (Male Free School) opens on Lan-
easter System.

3altimore College made Department Arts and Sciences,
University of Maryland.

Mt. Hope College opens. Gives all degrees, for several
years.

Franklin College is chartered.1839

1844

1848

1852

1854

1855

1856

1866

1867

1872

1876

1888

    
  
  
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
   

HoPpKINS

 

WHEN THE

University powers given to Washington Me lical Col-

]

ity Colle re Opt ns under N. { s Brooks.

lege. Baltimore C
Trustees of Publie Sehools t y to annex Di partment O1

Arts, ete., University of Maryland.

Newton Academy opens. Next year getting University

charter.

Baltimore Female College opens under N. C. Brooks.

Maryland Institute organized.

Loyola College (Jesuit) opens.

Department Arts, ete., of University of Maryland be-

eomes its School of Letters. :
Topping’s School for Boys. ‘
Mt. Washington College (Methodist) opens north of :
city.

Peabody Institute opens. Public Schools reorganized.
Maryland Academy of Sciences granted a perp tual

charter.

The a ithor attends (;eorge ( are) *s Seh 0] tor B YS
Dr. Atkinson’s school rivals Mr. Carey’s.
Johns Hopkins University opens. In city are described

private schools ;—for boys, 16; for girls, 34; for boys
and girls, 31; parochial (R. C.) 34.
Goucher College founded by Centennial Methodist Cont.INDEX

(CHAPTERS 1-7)

Academy of Medicine, 72. Adkins, 16. Andrews, 5. Ashby, 71.
Atkinson, 56, 57, 65.

Baird, 31. Bartlett, 55. Birckhead, 10. Blackburn, 16. Blond-
heim, 37. Bombaugh, 72. Bond, 7, 8, 10, 13, 15-17, 25, 59.
Brooks, 16, 17, 34, 35, 40. Browne, 75. Butler, 47.

Carey, 29, 31. Carroll, 7. Cary, 17. Cayley, 38. Chew, 47, 53.
Child, 36. Chisolm, 45, 52, 53, 61, 62. Clark, 16, 17. Cordell,
7, 10, 63-65. Cowen, 24.

Dalrymple, 7, 8. Davidge, 59. Dobbin, 36. Donaldson, 61.
Fonerden, 25. Friedenwald, 64.

Gambrall, 8. Garrett, 20. Gildersleeve, 38. Gilman, 29, 3838, 36,
40, 41. Gorsuch, 46. Goucher, 21.

Hall, 5, 16. Halsted, 39. Hastings, 30, 31. Heldman, 65. Hem-
meter, 34. Hoffman, 15. Howard, 44, 47, 48.

Jarboe, 16. Johnston, 73. Kennedy, 7, 12. Knight, 15. Kummer, 18.

Ladd, 39, 40. Lancaster, 11. Lanier, 38. Latimer, 35. Library,
65-71. Lyman, 15.

Martin, 34, 40. McSherry, 49, 52. Mercer, 16. Miltenberger, 49,
55, 75. Morris, 31, 32, 36. Morrison, 16. Morse, 32, 33, 34.

Newcomer, 38. Nurses Directory, 70.

Osler, 62.

Paré, 44, Pasteur, 34. Peabody, 12. Quinan, 64.

Remsen, 82, 33, 41. Reynolds, 8, 56. Rohé, 65. Rowland, 31, 37.
Royce, 389.

Smith, 25, 61. Spence, 61. Steiner, 5. Steuart, 26. Sylvester, 30,
37-41.

Thomson, 66-69. Tiffany, 51, 62. Turrbulls, 38.
Van Bibber, 78, 74.

Welch, 79. Wiesenthal, 6. Williams, 8.*Wilson, 49, 73. 74. Winsey,
69.ALDERMAN LIBRARY

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