Laura Bridgman

LAURA BRIDGMAN.

IF the reader has ever known a family one child of which was either blind, deaf and dumb, or so lame as to be helpless, he has probably been struck with the great variety of compensating circumstances which gathered round that child to make its lot not less happy than that of children in general. It has seemed to me sometimes as if everybody and everything connected with such a child enters into a sort of holy conspiracy to alleviate its condition. Its mother loves it with a singular depth of tenderness. Its father regards it with pitying fondness. The relations and friends of the family vie with one another which shall do most for it. Its own brothers and sisters — cruel as children often are to one another — often look upon the afflicted one with a mixture of awe and affection, which makes them vigilant in good offices toward it.

In the town of Hanover, in New Hampshire, the seat of Dartmouth College, a town surrounded with mountains, and traversed by rapid mountain streams, Laura Dewey Bridgman was born, in the year 1829. She was a bright, pretty child, with pleasing blue eyes, but of so feeble a constitution, that during the first eighteen months of her existence her parents scarcely expected her to out-live her infancy. But after her eighteenth month, she rapidly improved in health, and, in a very short time, she was as well and vigorous as children of her age usually are. Her parents, as parents are apt to do, thought that she exhibited at twenty months signs of uncommon intelligence.

She was two years of age when she was attacked by a disease which brought her to death's door, one of those complaints the after consequences of which are often more terrible and lasting than the disease itself. For seven weeks the fever raged. Her eves and cars became living sores, and they were finally consumed. For five months she lay in a darkened room, and two whole years passed before she was sufficiently restored to take her natural place in the family.

She used to go with her mother about the house, and feel her hands as she performed the usual household work, and seemed to take pleasure in imitating her motions, although it was impossible she should know their object. Her imitative power was remarkable, and in the course of the next three years she even learned to knit and to sew a little. Being human, she began also to show the less amiable traits of human nature, to her parents' great perplexity and distress. As they had no way of reasoning with her, there was no method except that of force to prevent her from running into danger, or doing what was manifestly improper. So passed the first three years after her affliction.

During those years her great friend and benefactor was in training iii the city of Boston. Dr. S. G. Howe, after studying medicine, was so powerfully wrought upon by that movement for the independence of Greece in which Lord Byron spent the last months of his life, that he went to Greece, where he served as a surgeon in the patriot army, and in other capacities for five years. Afterwards he was in the Polish movement of 1831, which led to his imprisonment iii Prussia for six weeks. At thirty-two, we find him President of the Perkins Institution for the Blind in South Boston, in the founding of which he had taken an active part.

In 1837, when he had had five years' experience in teaching the blind, he heard of Laura Bridgman, and went to Hanover to visit her, intending, if her parents would consent, to bring her to the Institution, to see if it were possible to give her some instruction.

"I found her," he once wrote, " with a well-formed figure, a strongly marked, nervous-sanguine temperament, a large and beautifully shaped head, and her whole system in healthy action."

With the cheerful consent of her parents, she was transferred to the Institution in the fall of 1837, when she was eight years of age. For several days after entering. the Institution she seemed much puzzled with the novelty of the objects by which she was surrounded, and the doctor made no attempt to instruct her for two weeks, when she had become pretty familiar with her new abode and acquainted with its inmates.

He began her instruction in this way : He took a common spoon and key, and pasted upon each a label upon which its name was printed in raised letters. These objects she felt very carefully, and was not long in discovering the difference in the two words. A blind child makes a discovery of that kind in an instant, owing to the sensitiveness of its touch. Next, he placed before her two labels with the same two names printed upon them. She soon showed that she perceived the difference by putting the label k-e-y upon the key, and the label s-p-o-o-n upon the spoon. From that moment, the success of this most interesting experiment was assured, and the doctor encouraged her by patting her on the head. Other objects were placed before her, and she rapidly learned to placed the right label upon each. When her table was covered with articles and labels lying in confusion, she would sort them out, placing upon every one of them its printed name.

The next step was an important advance. Types were given her consisting of certain required letters. At first the types were arranged in proper order, B-O-O-K, and then, after a time, they were thrown into confusion, and she was taught to put them together again in the same order. This process was repeated until she could form the name, in her moveable types, of all the articles that could be placed within her reach. Gratifying as her progress was, it was still evident to her patient instructor that she did not as yet comprehend the object which he had in view. But, one day, while she was setting up names in this manner, a change came over her demeanor.

"Hitherto," says Doctor Howe, " the process had been mechanical, and the success about as great as teaching a very knowing dog a variety of tricks. The poor child had sat in mute amazement, and patiently imitated every-thing her teacher did ; but now the truth began to flash upon her ; her intellect began to work; she perceived that here was a way by which she could herself make up a sign of anything that was in her own mind, and show it to another mind; and at once her countenance lighted up with a human expression. . . . I could almost fix upon the moment when this truth dawned upon her mind, and spread its light to her countenance."

Doctor Howe next procured for her a font of metal types with the letters cast upon one end, and a board in which there were square holes in which she could place the types, so that the raised letters alone would extend above the surface of the wood. Upon handing her a pencil or a watch, she would immediately set up its name in type, so that the blind could read it; and in this way she was exercised for several weeks, -until her list of words became considerable. She took great delight in this exercise, and learned far more rapidly than when her performances were purely mechanical.

The next step was to enable her to communicate with others by means of her fingers, using the various deaf and dumb alphabets. Strange as it may seem, she learned very quickly to represent the different letters by the position of her fingers ; for she now had a clear sense of what the teacher was about. When she had been a year iii the Institution, she could converse with its inmates with considerable freedom, and was apparently among the happiest of them all. She never appeared to be in low spirits, but was full of fun and frolic, romped with the rest of the children, and laughed louder than them all. When alone, she seemed more than content with her knitting and sewing, and would amuse herself for hours in that way. In the course of time, she learned to write, and the first use she made of this accomplishment was to write a letter to her mother.

When she had been six months in the Institution, her mother came to see her; but Laura, though she ran against her, and felt of her hands and dress, did not recognize her—to her mother's great grief. But after a while, when her mother took hold of her again, an idea seemed to flash upon her mind ; she eagerly felt her mother's hands ; became pale and red by turns: and when her mother drew her close to her side and kissed her fondly, all doubt suddenly disappeared from the child's countenance ; and, her face beaming with joy, she yielded to her mother's embraces.

One of her visitors, when she was twelve years of age, was Charles Dickens, who was profoundly interested in her.

"Her face," he says, " was radiant with intelligence and pleasure. Her hair, braided by her own hands, was bound about her head, whose intellectual capacity and development were beautifully expressed in its graceful outline and its broad, open brow ; her dress, arranged by herself, was a pattern of neatness and simplicity ; the work she had knitted lay beside her ; her writing-book was on the desk she leaned upon. . . . Like other inmates of that house, she had a green ribbon bound around her eyelids. A doll she had dressed lay near her upon the ground. I took it up, and saw that she had made a green fillet, such as she wore herself, and fastened it about its minute eyes. . . . My hand she rejected at once, as she does that of any man who is a stranger to her. But she retained my wife's with evident pleasure, kissing her, and examined her dress with a girl's curiosity and interest."

It was at this period that Dr. Howe commissioned Miss Sophie A. Peabody of Salem, afterward the wife of Nathaniel Hawthorne, to model the bust of Laura in clay, which may still be seen in the Asylum at Boston: The artist was then engaged to Hawthorne, and the money 0150) that she received for the work, went into a fund which she had already begun to set apart for her wedding trousseau. Laura herself watched the progress of the clay model with keen interest, perusing its features with delicate, sensitive fingers, clapping her little hands with delight, and gleefully speaking of the bust as her "white baby.'

Mr. Dickens spoke of the difference between her treatment of himself and of his wife. Her sense of feminine propriety, if I may use the expression, was, so far as her teachers could discern, inborn. No child ever evinced more regard to appearances. She was never seen with her dress in disorder, or in an unbecoming attitude ; and if by chance she discovered a little tear or dirt upon her dress or person, she showed an acute sense of shame, and would hurry away to remove it. Her demeanor towards men was all reserve and distance, but to women she would be quickly affectionate, cling closely to them, kiss and caress them with unusual frequency and fondness. When a strange lady was presented to her she soon became familiar, examined her dress with her fingers, and permitted her caresses. But with men it was entirely different, and she repelled every kind of familiarity. No matter how much she was attached to a male teacher, she would not sit upon his knees, nor let him clasp her about the waist.

Her sense of ownership seemed also to be innate. She was fond of acquiring property, and respected the right of ownership in others. She was never known to steal, and was noted throughout her childhood for speaking the truth. Nor was she less prone to imitation than other children. She was known to sit for half an hour holding a book before her and moving her lips, as she had observed people do when reading. One day she pretended that her doll was sick, as Dr. Howe relates, and went through all the motions of tending it and administering medicine. She carefully put it to bed, placed a bottle of hot water at its feet, laughing all the time most heartily.

"When I came home," adds the doctor, " she insisted upon my going to see it and feeling its pulse, and when I told her to put a blister to its back, she seemed to enjoy it amazingly and almost screamed with delight."

Her principal moral fault was a capricious quickness of temper. Though usually tractable and obedient, she was liable to sudden, unreasonable anger, which would manifest itself in the usual ways of slamming the door and dashing out of the room. At the age of fifteen she took offence one day because her teacher told her to put her handkerchief into her desk. She had left it upon the desk, which was against a rule of the school-room.

"Put your handkerchief in your desk," remarked the teacher in a quiet manner, supposing that she had forgotten it.

Laura showed displeasure in her countenance, hesitated a moment, and then placed the handkerchief in her lap, saying :

"I prefer to put it in my lap."

The teacher seeing that the child meant rebellion, said :

"I told you to put it in the desk, and now I want you to do it."

Laura sat still for about two minutes. She then lifted the lid very high, threw the handkerchief into the desk, and let the lid fall with a noise that startled all the school-room.

"Are you angry ? " asked the teacher.

This question had always calmed her before, but it did not on this occasion.

"I am very cross," said she.

The teacher replied, " I am very sorry, and I am very sorry you shut the desk so hard. I want you to open it again, and take your handkerchief and put it in gently."

"I will take it out to wipe my eyes, and put it back," she replied.

The teacher told her that she wished her first of all to put it into the desk gently. Laura lifted the lid, took out the handkerchief, let the lid slam as before, and then raised the handkerchief, as if to wipe her eyes.

"No," said the teacher with decision, and took her hand down.

Laura sat awhile without motion, and then, as the teacher reports, "uttered the most frightful yell I ever heard." Her face was pale, and she was trembling in every limb. The teacher, hearing the sound of visitors approaching, said to her :

"You must go and sit alone."

She rebelled for a moment, and then went to her room. The spirit of defiance seemed to have obtained firm possession of her, and some days passed before she showed a genuine penitence. In the interval, she behaved very much as other naughty children do; among other things, affecting gayety of a boisterous character. At length, however, through the tact and perseverance of the teacher, she came to a better state of mind. It was long before she gained the mastery of this fault ; lapsing occasionally after she was of age.

More than forty years have passed since Charles Dickens saw this afflicted child, (luring most of which she has lived at the Asylum and spent her summer vacations at her native village. Her education proves to be as successful as Mr. Dickens regarded it before it had been tested by maturity. Miss Bridgman is now (1883) fifty-four years old. In appearance she differs little from a prevailing type of middle-aged New England ladies. She passes her life very much as she would if she enjoyed the use of all her senses.

The most curious and interesting event of her later years was her reversion from the philosophical Unitarian-ism of Dr. Howe to the religion of her parents, who were Baptists. She became acquainted in 1855 with a blind girl from Germany, an enthusiastic Baptist, who imparted to Laura her view of the Christian religion. She became after many months of reflection and internal struggle a very fervent Baptist. She wrote to one of her teachers in 1861:
"I am better this morn. I have not been well much of the time this winter and in the fall. But I am much happier in mind concerning God, & his begotten son Jesus Christ. I profess religion since last spring most fervently. I devote a great deal of my time to studying the sacred Bible. I rejoice so highly that God has helped me to comprehend his works in many ways. I read iii the blessed Bible daily, which I prize the most of all books in this world."

During a visit to her native place she was baptized in one of the mountain streams, and admitted to the church of which her parents were members. The account which she gives of the ceremony is exceedingly touching. The thought first occurred to her mind during a visit to her relations at Thetford in Vermont, where she remained for some months, associating chiefly with her cousin Emily.

"1 attained," she wrote, much enjoyment of conversing with my cousin about sacred things. I thought how delightful it might have been to my soul if I could be baptized in the pure water by the minister who usually preached the Holy Ghost to the blest church in Thetford. But my dear God did not approve of my doing that away from my home. I felt fearful at times from these thoughts concerning the performance of baptism. I thought that there was danger of sinking my head beneath the water, & I might be drowned in the depth of water. I did not feel strong & confident sufficiently for being in a. grave. . . In the fall I had much delight in a religions conversation with my dear adopted sister & her husband, & my dear mother. One sunny r. N. 1 visited my adopted sister, Mrs. H. We had a very solemn happiness with a talk in the library with Mr. H., a most excellent minister. We transacted some business concerning the sacred ordinance. My sister, Mrs. Herrick, called upon me the first Saturday of July; she interpreted some sentences to me for the reverend. Shortly after dinner I accompanied my mother to his house a few rods from my home. I had a happy call there till it was time for us all to go to the holy sanctuary to attribute prayers and holy communion to the Almighty Father. The holy church agreed to vote me a member. The sixth of July, the first Sabbath, my cousin Mary called to see me once or twice Sunday. I went with her & my mother to Mr. Herrick's house at noon. I was so glad to meet a few ladies there ; I was waited upon by those ladies in preparation for baptism. I could hardly help myself undress and dress myself. Mr. H. welcomed me so gladly at his house. I was guided to the brookside by my mamma & Mrs. Huntington. Mr. H. sent for me one of his chairs to sit by the side of the brook while holy prayer was being addressed. Two students sang a hymn 112. I believe that the first line of the hymn is :

"In all my God's appointed ways."

I did not feel inclined to talk with my fingers at the blessed ordinance, but I was so happy to have my mother or any person speak to inc. My soul was overwhelmed with spiritual joy and light in the presence of Cod, & his blest Son Jesus Christ. I could hardly smile, for I felt solemnly happy. . . As Mr. Ii. took me by the hand crossing the pure water I felt a thrill of crying for joy, though not one drop of a tear fell in sight from my eyes. . . My dear father & a gentleman aided me up out of the water, & I sat in the chair with my wet clothes, on utterance of another prayer, I went to church & the holy communion. Mr. H. gave me the right hand of fellowship in Cod. It was a most glorious & pious Sunday, evermore for me to retain."

Since that period her thoughts have evidently had but slight relation to this world and its delights, although her enjoyment of life appears to be undiminished. The change in her religious feelings was far from lessening her regard for her illustrious teacher, Dr. Bowe.  He died in 1876. A few days after his death she wrote to a friend :

I think much of Dr. H. day & night, with sorrow, & gratitude, & love, & sincerity."

She spoke and wrote frequently of him, and looks forward with perfect confidence to meeting him again. She retains the tastes and the habits of industry which she acquired at the Institution in her childhood, taking pleasure in decorating her room. She has named her room Sunny Home, from one of its windows which lets in the sunlight, of which she is as fond as though she could behold the pictures it creates. She never finds time hanging heavily upon her hands. Besides reading the hooks and periodicals printed in raised letters for the blind, she sews, knits, crochets lace, makes mats and other fancy articles, which she sells to visitors with her auto-graph attached. She retains, too, her power to enjoy a jest, and has wholly recovered from her propensity to bursts of anger. I conclude with one of her poems :

LIGHT AND DARKNESS.
Light represents day.
Light is more brilliant than ruby, even diamond. Light is whiter than snow.
Darkness is night-like.
It looks as black as iron.
Darkness is a sorrow.
Joy is a thrilling rapture.
Light yields a shooting joy through the human. Light is as sweet as honey, but
Darkness is bitter as salt and more than vinegar. Light is finer than gold, and even finest gold.
Joy is a real light.
Joy is a blazing flame.
Darkness is frosty.
A good sleep is a white curtain. A bad sleep is a black curtain.*

Life and Education of Laura Dewey Bridgman. By Mary Swift Lamson. Boston. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1881.
 

Related:

• Bridgman Surname Genealogy Resources
• Search for Ancestors
• Biographies Online

ADVERTISEMENT

  

Daughters of Genius