1 10 12 https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/1f20088a628575f2d8757c3b83058381.jpg 4ed206e60c25dfd73337a02fbdde0ef2 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Klemm, L. R. Relief Practice Map: Roman Empire (New York: William Beverley Harison, 59 Fifth Avenue, 1894), 29 x 32 cm. Scale 1:20,000,000. Image Courtesy The Library of Virginia. Description An account of the resource This waterproof relief map depicts the Roman Empire (284-476 CE), including insets of Greece and Lower Italy. The map typography is in raised capital letters. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. Maps printed in relief from plates are necessarily much cheaper than those made by hand. In general the boundaries in printed maps are indicated by raised lines, and the towns marked by dots, no distinction being usually made between land and water. In those, however, printed by Dr. Howe, of Boston, U.S., the water is raised above the land, which injurious practice has been imitated by Mr. Moon ,<a title="" href="#_edn1">[i]</a> of Brighton, in some of his productions. The idea of water being raised above land is so unnatural, that the mind never thoroughly becomes accustomed to it, and this produces constant irritation and uncertainty in consulting maps so arranged. The maps invented by Haüy,<a title="" href="#_edn2">[ii]</a> and still used in France, are made by hand. They are expensive and very inefficient. Herr Zeune,<a title="" href="#_edn3">[iii]</a> the director of “The Institution for the Blind” at Berlin, invented some years ago maps of very perfect construction; the various elevations on the surface of the earth being given on a regularly graduated scale: thus, if land one thousand feet above the level of the sea is represented on the map by a substance the tenth of an inch thick, land which is ten thousand feet above the level of the sea is indicated by a substance of the thickness of an inch. The utility of this invention in the case of institutions, and for the use of pupils of the wealthy classes is undoubted, but the costliness of maps constructed on such a principle places the advantages of the system beyond the reach of the blind generally. The mode adopted by Herr Zeune is so admirable that it has been employed in common schools, and it forms perhaps the only instance in which an invention, originally intended for the blind, has proved of signal advantage to the sighted. <h3>Notes</h3> <div><a title="" href="#_ednref1">[i]</a> Completely blind by the age of twenty-one, William Moon (1818-1894) was an educator of the blind and developed Moon type, a raised typography for tactile reading.</div> <div><a title="" href="#_ednref2">[ii]</a> Valentin Haüy (1745-1822) was founder of the first institute for the blind and developed an embossed printing system for the blind. <a title="" href="#_ednref3">[iii]</a> Johann August Zeune (1778-1853) founded the Berlin Foundation for the Blind.</div> Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Klemm, L. R. Relief Practice Map: Roman Empire (New York: William Beverley Harison, 59 Fifth Avenue, 1894), 29 x 32 cm. Scale 1:20,000,000. Image Courtesy The Library of Virginia. Patented on June 28, 1888 and copyrighted by William Beverly Harison in 1894, this waterproof relief map, as indicated in the upper left, depicts the Roman Empire (284-476 CE), including insets of Greece and Lower Italy. The map typography is in raised capital letters. Description An account of the resource Printed tactile, or relief, maps began to be published during the early nineteenth century and were used to teach the sighted and the blind geography. Initially used in Europe, they were introduced into the United States by American educators who traveled to Europe to observe educational practices.<a title="" href="#_edn1">[1]</a> Influenced by his observations of the education of the blind in Europe, Samuel Gridley Howe (1801-1876) of the Perkins School for the Blind made printed tactile maps, such as his <a href="http://www.davidrumsey.com/blog/2012/5/21/atlas-for-the-blind-1837">1837 atlas</a> of the United States that included the typography Boston Line Type, designed for the blind.<a title="" href="#_edn2">[2]</a> Likewise, Martin Kunz (1847-1923), the director of the Blind Institute at Illzack in Germany, also created <a href="http://www.aph.org/museum/virtual_exhibit/exhibit3/e30033a.htm">printed tactile maps</a> for the blind. However, his maps incorporated German Braille. A contemporary of Kunz, L. R. (Louis Richard) Klemm (1845-1925), superintendent of schools in Cleveland and Hamilton, Ohio, later worked for the United States Bureau of Education, specializing in foreign education, in Washington, DC in 1889.<a title="" href="#_edn3">[3]</a> He produced printed tactile maps in addition to other educational materials to engage sighted students kinesthetically, an educational strategy about which he learned in Europe and one that was successful for teaching the blind. His Relief Practice Map: Roman Empire (1894) that utilized raised typography in capital letters was created for the sighted but was also used by the blind. An announcement for his maps does not target a specific user other than students in general but provides details on the production and use of his maps: “In this series of blank maps the relief has been produced, on specially prepared paper, by pressure. It is intended that they should be filled in by the student with the names of places, rivers, lakes, mountains, etc. They are very portable, and seem well suited for use in schools.”<a title="" href="#_edn4">[4]</a> Klemm further details the construction of these maps in his “<a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=OQYCAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA131&lpg=PA131&dq=klemm+american+teacher+how+to+make+durable+relief+maps&source=bl&ots=xabyq0Xjwz&sig=g9SpEpUokhi8PjW_egRGDisy5ak&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0CB4Q6AEwAGoVChMIlNnRj6jHxgIVyzw-Ch2kXgAQ#v=onepage&q=klemm%20american%20teacher%20how%20to%20make%20durable%20relief%20maps&f=false">How To Make Durable Relief Maps</a>,” and his European Schools; or, What I Saw in the Schools of Germany, France, Austria, and Switzerland (1890) offers insight into the genesis of his printed tactile maps. Moreover, his <a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?url=patentimages.storage.googleapis.com/pdfs/US320564.pdf">patent</a> (no. 320,564 dated June 23, 1885) for his “Relief Map, Chart, &c.” includes the same figure that he displays in his aforementioned <a href="https://archive.org/stream/eurschoolsorwhat00klemiala#page/54/mode/2up">European Schools</a>. W. Hanks Levy’s Blindness and the Blind (1872) below reviews printed tactile maps in the US and Europe. He addresses accessibility issues regarding readability and expense of tactile maps for the blind. His critique illuminates the potential use of Klemm’s maps by the blind. <h3>Notes</h3> <div><a title="" href="#_ednref1">[1]</a> Various types of maps have been used to teach the blind geography since the eighteenth century and likely earlier. Students made relief maps and “raised maps” constructed with cushions, pins, wire, glass, and string. The first maps the blind used “were on embroidered cloth or canvas, the needle-work representing the land and the plain cloth the water” with other embroidered details. Relief maps were constructed on paper or cardboard. See Joseph Stadelman, “<a href="http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/05306a.htm">Education of the Blind</a>,” in The Catholic Encyclopedia, Vol. 5 (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1909), accessed July 7, 2015. See also Sébastien Guillié, An Essay on the Instruction and Amusements of the Blind (London: Printed for Richard Phillips, 1819, reprint, London: Sampson Low, Marston and Company, 1894), 101-106. Wooden “dissected,” or puzzle, maps were also used to teach the sighted and the blind geography. See “Maps for the Blind: How They Are Manufactured and How Used,” The New York Times (New York, NY), Aug. 10, 1890. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ednref2">[2]</a> See Kimberly French, Perkins School for the Blind (Charleston, SC: Arcadia Publishing, 2004), 9-10, 13. Braille was not introduced into the United States until 1860 and was not adopted in the US until 1918. Because of the lack of standardization of typography for the blind and the various existent writing systems, the struggle that led to the universal acceptance of Braille became known as the “War of the Dots.” See French, 65-70. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ednref3">[3]</a> “Educational Expert, Dr. L. R. Klemm, Dies,” The Evening Star (Washington, DC), Nov. 20, 1925. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ednref4">[4]</a> “New Maps,” The Geographical Journal 5, no. 1 (1895): 93-96, 96. </div> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived W. Hanks Levy, <a href="http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/005764641">Blindness and the Blind: or, A Treatise on the Science of Typhlology</a> (London: Chapman and Hall, 1872), 139-140. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1872 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Leah Thomas Relation A related resource <ul><li> Cooper, Holly L. “A<a href="https://www.tsbvi.edu/seehear/spring06/history.htm"> Brief History of Tactile Writing Systems for Readers with Blindness and Visual Impairments</a>.” Texas School for the Blind and Visually Impaired. </li> <li> Eriksson, Yvonne. Tactile Pictures: Pictorial Representations for the Blind, 1784-1940. Göteborg: Acta Universitatis Gothoburgensis, 1998. </li> <li> Norgate, Martin. “Cutting Borders: Dissected Maps and the Origins of the Jigsaw Puzzle.“ The Cartographic Journal. 44.4 (2007): 342-350. </li> </ul> Title A name given to the resource Printed Tactile Maps Language A language of the resource English Blindness Maps Martin Kunz Material Culture Samuel Gridley Howe https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/06f5b1577456228044d43531780df354.jpg 03315ef06120b10c195a07432d8be15f Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Druck von Leo Krause & Ewerlien “Maximo und Bartolo die leßten lebenden Azteken,” a 1909 postcard of siblings Bartola and Maximo, most likely from their final engagement in Germany. Image from author’s collection. Description An account of the resource The front of this black and white postcard shows the siblings sitting cross-legged. https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/da2709afa118b3b1b303e3d3c3ba675b.jpg da3256faf98e55ba86751fda32347a86 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource The back of the postcard shows a faded address and stamp. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. The place of residence assigned to our travelers was the vacant wing of a sumptuous and spacious structure, at the western extremity of the city, which had been appropriated, from time immemorial, to the surviving remnant of an ancient and singular order of priesthood called Kaanas, which it was distinctly asserted in their annals and traditions, had accompanied the first migration of this people from the Assyrian plains. Their peculiar and strongly-distinctive lineaments, it is now perfectly well ascertained, are to be traced in many of the sculptured monuments of the Central American ruins, and were found still more abundantly in Iximaya. Forbidden, inviolably sacred laws, from intermarrying with any persons but those of their own caste, they had here dwindled down, in the course of many centuries, to a few insignificant individuals, diminutive in stature. They were, nevertheless, held in high veneration and affection by the whole Iximayan community, probably as living specimens of an antique race nearly extinct. [ … ] Such is the marvelous story detailed by Velasquez. Containing all elements which can well stimulate curiosity, it also lays claim to a credence which further inquiry must either substantiate or withdraw. The Aztec Children stand independently as the most wonderful members of the human race, whatever their origin or descent; yet at the same time, all testimony professing to throw light on this is worthy of calm and considerate attention. To view these children is less to inquire whence they came, than to regard them as they are; to watch the progressive dawn of intelligence and continually stronger development of individual characteristics. To see them is an event in the life of the beholder, which will never be forgotten. Were they deformities, without proper lineage or name, excrescences or mere freaks of nature, their history would little merit the inquiry or examination now courted. They are here—the descendants of a people probably passed over to the Américan continent at a period too remote to be ascertained, members of a race kept preserved in rocky fastness, and now discovered on the eve of physical decline and disappearance. [ … ] It might be considered just, with great propriety, to class these remarkable specimens of humanity with fabulous existences, if the truth of their being rested on mere individual assertion—BUT HERE THEY ARE! LIVING!—and open to public examination—not merely imaginary creatures, like the strange men of Africa mentioned by Herodotus, the phoenix or the mermaid. Not a fictitious people, like the dryads of the Arcadian vales—not the moonlight fairies; the little grey men of Norse legends—not nymph, sprite, nor elf—but human beings of flesh and blood—the remnant of strange and wonderful race—the greatest marvel of a land of wonders, and of the nineteenth century—more strange than the vast skeletons of the Mastodon, which have been exhumed in the same region—but, like the black swan of New Holland formerly regarded as a myth, but now a well-established existence. In short, as curious and as well substantiated as the singular sightless fish of the mammoth cave of Kentucky. In brief, these Aztec Children present the most extraordinary phenomenon in the human race ever witnessed by the modern world: let their origin be what it may – let their history and their country’s history be every so vague and traditionary—doubt the truth of Velasquez’s narrative or believe it wholly—these children present in themselves the eighth wonder of the world. They are, without exception, the most remarkable and intensely interesting objects that were ever presented to the European public. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Druck von Leo Krause & Ewerlien “Maximo und Bartolo die leßten lebenden Azteken,” a 1909 postcard of siblings Bartola and Maximo, most likely from their final engagement in Germany. Image from author’s collection. Description An account of the resource Pedro Velasquez’s gripping 1851 Illustrated Memoir of an Expedition into Central America chronicles the enterprising Hammond expedition that absconded with a pair of native children after discovering Iximaya, a fabled city hidden in deep in the jungles of untouched Central America. These, however, were not just any children, but the two last living members of a pureblood priestly caste: Bartola and Maximo, “The Aztec Children.” Diminutive in stature and well beloved by the otherwise war-like Iximayans, after their “rescue,” the siblings became two of the most sought-after freak show performers of the nineteenth century. However, Bartola and Maximo were not Aztecs; and neither Pedro Velasquez nor Iximaya actually existed. Their life story pamphlet was actually a doctored up version of American lawyer and explorer John Lloyd Stephens’ travelogue, Incidents of Travel in Central America, Chiapas, and Yucatan (1841), a text that revitalized interest in Mayan antiquity during the nineteenth century. The wild romance of the “Aztec Children” was nothing more than freak show fabrication. Bartola and Maximo’s actual origins are unknown, but they were most likely born in San Salvador. They were both born with microcephaly, a neurodevelopmental disorder that impaired physical and cognitive development, earning them the nicknames the “Aztec Children” and “Aztec Lilliputians.” They first appeared with their impresario J. Morris in Boston, MA in the early 1850s. After catching the attention of Horace Greeley and President Millard Fillmore, they travelled to London in 1853 to meet Queen Victoria. For the next fifty years, they were continuously exhibited in London, Europe, and the US. They even briefly worked with P.T. Barnum, one of the most famous nineteenth-century showmen, which testified to just how popular the “Aztecs” were. Eventually interest in the siblings faded, and their last known sighting was around 1901. The postcard is a souvenir from one of their final performance engagements in Germany. Throughout their career, Bartola and Maximo sparked hot debates over the nature of physical, cultural, and racial difference. The conclusion of the “Aztec Children’s” pamphlet reveals how disability, science, and colonialism supported each other during the nineteenth century. On the one hand, they were routinely used as medical, ethnological, and anthropological evidence of the existence of degenerate species. But, Bartola and Maximo were also deemed imposters: they were little more than imperfect Aztec knockoffs, much like their fraudulent life story pamphlet. The twists and turns of their long career represent the freak show’s signature “artful deception,” a clever interweaving of truth and fiction, authenticity and fabrication, cover ups and exposé.<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> The freak show does not just calm anxieties and uncertainties that accompany physical difference, but also incites energetic debate that complicates cultural standards of normalcy. <h3>Note</h3> <div><a title="" href="#_ftnref1">[1]</a> Including the freak show, automatons, stage magic, and trompe l’oeil, James W. Cook maps out the modern form of trickery he refers to as “artful deception “ in The Arts of Deception: Playing with Fraud in the Age of Barnum. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2001) </div> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Illustrated Memoir of an Eventful Expedition into Central America Resulting in the Discovery of the Idolatrous City of Iximaya in an Unexplored Region; and the Possession of Two Remarkable Aztec Children Maximo (the Boy) and Bartola (the Girl,) Descendants and Specimens of the Sacerdotal Caste (now Nearly Extinct), of the Ancient Aztec Founders of the Ruined Temples of That Country. Edited by John L. Stephens and Other Travelers. Translated by Pedro Velasquez. New York: Wynkoop, Hallendeck, and Thomas, 1860. Pages 30 to 34. Available at: <a href="https://archive.org/details/101188943.nlm.nih.gov">https://archive.org/details/101188943.nlm.nih.gov</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1860 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Ann McKenzie Garascia Relation A related resource <ul><li>Aguirre, Robert D. Informal Empire: Mexico and Central America in Victorian Culture. Minneapolis: Minnesota, 2005. </li> </ul><ul><li>Bogdan, Robert. Freak Show: Presenting Human Oddities for Amusement and Profit. Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1988.</li> <li> Durbach, Nadja. Spectacle of Deformity: Freak Shows and Modern British Culture Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010. </li> </ul> Title A name given to the resource Bartola and Maximo, “The Aztec Children” https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/808b46dd6ea7968d1fd078d547cdae01.jpg 66505229236caf8973e661a0fc830074 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Philadelphia: American Artificial Limb Company, 1865, 27. Image courtesy of the National Library of Medicine, Bethesda, MD. Description An account of the resource Illustration of the mechanism inside a Palmer Patent Leg. From The Palmer Arm and Leg, Adopted for the U.S. Army and Navy by the Surgeon-General, U.S.A. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. Brigadier-General Bartlett. [This gallant General has risen from the rank of Captain while using the Palmer Leg in the service. Amputation above the knee.] Boston, Mass., January 6, 1865. Dear Sir: I have now used the Palmer Leg (full length) for more than two years. During most of that time I have been on active duty in the field. It has stood the severe test of campaigning, exposure to all weathers, and constant use in the saddle, admirably; not better than I had hoped, but far better than I expected. I have never been kept off duty an hour by any fault in its mechanism. I willingly bear testimony to its merits, and express my satisfaction with the result of the test to which I have subjected it. (It is not bullet-proof—few legs are!) I am, sir, very respectfully, W.F. Bartlett, Brigadier-General <div> </div> *** James S. Stackhouse, Esq. Philadelphia, January 9, 1865. Dr. B. Frank. Palmer. Dear Sir: On the 22d of April, 1857, it was my misfortune to lose a foot and ankle-joint by a railroad accident. Since wearing your Artificial Leg, I have, the greater portion of the time, been employed on the Pennsylvania Central Railroad in the capacity of conductor, and in the position have run, at different times, the most difficult trains on the road (accommodation trains<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a>), from the fact of these requiring greater activity on the part of the conductor, such as jumping on and off at stations, passing quickly through the train from one car to another, &c. It affords me great pleasure to add my testimony to the superiority of your limb. In fact I can scarcely realize that I have suffered so severe a loss as that of a foot. During the six years I have worn the leg I have thoroughly tested it in the most trying position in which a leg, particularly an artificial leg, can be used, and am happy to say I have never found it wanting. Should you wish to refer any parties to me for information concerning the good qualities of my limb, I would be happy to see them at my residence, No. 1344 Coates Street. I remain yours, truly, Jas. S. Stackhouse, Conductor P.R.R.<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> <div> **** </div> The Opinion of a Lady [Syme Operation.]<a title="" href="#_ftn3">[3]</a> Irving House, Twelfth Street, Near Broadway, New York, January 12, 1865. Dear Doctor: Having derived so much benefit from your skill in the adaptation of an artificial foot, I cannot refrain from expressing my gratitude—daily increasing as it is—for I more and more experience the ease and facility movement through your invaluable invention. The 17th of last March my foot was amputated. The period of deep distress, and the frightful future of helplessness then opening before me in my 22d year, can only be realized by those of similar sad experiences. Unfortunately, not a few, in this day of crippled humanity from war’s sad footprints, will understand me. When Dr. Olcott,<a title="" href="#_ftn4">[4]</a> of Brooklyn, after close investigation of the subject, made me acquainted with your wonderful invention, I confess I had but little faith in the possibility of so far repairing my loss; but, from your care, I found myself not only able to throw aside my crutches, but was surprised immediately to find myself an independent walker. The second day of the trial I walked, without crutch or cane, full two miles; and now, after five months’ use, part of that time travelling, I find that I can run up and down stairs, walk without limping, and, with a perfect feeling of security, make my way through the crowds of a metropolis; indeed my most intimate friends would scarcely suspect the presence of an artificial foot. It would be an easy matter to conceal my loss, were I so disposed; but my sympathy with the unfortunate, and my gratitude to you, my dear Doctor, forbids anything of the kind; and I ask you to permit me to offer my public testimony to your skill, and will ever hold myself ready to gladly respond to any inquiries from those who may be interested. I remain yours, gratefully, Mrs. John B. Eagan. <h3> Notes</h3> <div><a title="" href="#_ftnref1">[1]</a> Local trains that make frequent stops, often carrying both passengers and freight.</div> <div><a title="" href="#_ftnref2">[2]</a> The Pennsylvania Railroad, founded in 1846.</div> <div><a title="" href="#_ftnref3">[3]</a> An amputation technique pioneered by James Syme (1799-1870), which removed the foot by disarticulating the ankle, removing the malleoli, and using a heel flap to cover the ends of the tibia and fibula.</div> <div><a title="" href="#_ftnref4">[4]</a> Cornelius Olcott, who graduated from the Medical Department of the University of the City of New York in 1849 and practiced at 104 Bedford Avenue, Brooklyn.</div> Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Illustration of the mechanism inside a Palmer Patent Leg. From The Palmer Arm and Leg, Adopted for the U.S. Army and Navy by the Surgeon-General, U.S.A. (Philadelphia: American Artificial Limb Company, 1865), 27. Image courtesy of the <a title="National Library of Medicine" href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/">National Library of Medicine</a>, Bethesda, MD. Description An account of the resource In 1846, B.F. Palmer filed the first patent for an artificial leg in the United States. His product, characterized by its smoothly articulated knee, ankle, and toe joints, as well as its elegant and lifelike appearance, was an immediate success. It won awards at dozens of industrial fairs and competitions in the United States, but Palmer was most proud of his invention’s performance at the Great Exhibition in London in 1851. Not only did the Palmer Patent Leg win a silver medal, it was also celebrated in the London Times and lampooned in Punch, a popular satirical magazine.<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> By 1857, Palmer had sold nearly three thousand of his famed appliances, and almost five hundred of them belonged to women. The Civil War (1861-65) resulted in thousands of amputations and dramatically changed the retail landscape for prostheses. The number of patents issued for artificial legs in the United States more than quadrupled from 21 between 1846 and 1860 to 88 between 1861 and 1873.<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> In 1862, the United States government agreed to supply artificial limbs to injured soldiers, and manufacturers fought vehemently for both government contracts and the patronage of wounded clients. Palmer’s advertising included this brochure, The Palmer Arm and Leg, Adopted for the U.S. Army and Navy by the Surgeon-General, U.S.A., which featured testimonials from surgeons and artificial limb wearers, both military and civilian. The three letters excerpted here articulate three different experiences of disability in nineteenth-century America, but their perspectives remain limited, as they were curated and likely edited by a manufacturer who aggressively controlled his product’s reputation. Still, the testimonials illustrate how the artificial limb intersected with popular ideals of military masculinity, as well as men’s physical command over railroads and other symbols of industrial growth and achievement, even as these technologies were responsible for much civilian limb loss. Both men and women put a premium on physical activity and ease of movement, and many of these advertising letters, including the third excerpted here, also appealed to the conventions of sentimentalism. In the end, Palmer’s greatest achievement was his ability to present the artificial limb as a desirable consumer product, bearing the diverse values and priorities of his time and place. <div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref1">[1]</a> “The Great Exhibition,” Times [London] (19 September 1851): 4; “Palmer’s Legs,” Punch (27 September 1851): 137. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref2">[2]</a> Laurann Figg and Jane Farrell-Beck, “Amputation in the Civil War: Physical and Social Dimensions,” Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 48 (1993): 461. </div> </div> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Palmer Arm and Leg, Adopted for the U.S. Army and Navy by the Surgeon-General, U.S.A.. Philadelphia, PA: American Artificial Limb Company, 1865. 30, 41, 42-43. Full text available at <a title="Archive link" href="https://archive.org/details/101462403.nlm.nih.gov">https://archive.org/details/101462403.nlm.nih.gov</a>. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1865 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Caroline Lieffers Relation A related resource <ul><li> Figg, Laurann, and Jane Farrell-Beck. “Amputation in the Civil War: Physical and Social Dimensions.” Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 48 (1993): 454-475. </li> <li> Hasegawa, Guy. Mending Broken Soldiers: The Union and Confederate Programs to Supply Artificial Limbs. Carbondale and Edwardsville: Southern Illinois University Press, 2012. </li> <li> Herschbach, Lisa. “Prosthetic Reconstructions: Making the Industry, Re-making the Nation.” History Workshop Journal 44 (1997): 22-57. </li> <li> Life and Limb: The Toll of the American Civil War. National Library of Medicine Web Exhibit. 2011. Curated by Manon Parry. http://www.nlm.nih.gov/exhibition/lifeandlimb/index.html . </li> </ul> Title A name given to the resource The Palmer Patent Leg Language A language of the resource English Prosthesis https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/fb32d389da8b7819ba4e831598371425.jpg 2baeb3b4db322a53d34161814c73f5cb Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. Now, after lessons, he<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> would occasionally be persuaded to quit that beloved study, and take a walk along the loch side, or across the moor, to show his pupil the country of which he, poor little fellow! was owner and lord. He did it at first out of pure kindness, to save the earl from the well-meant intrusion of neighbours, but afterward from sheer pleasure in seeing the boy so happy. To him, mounted in Malcolm’s arms and brought for the first time into contact with the outer world, everything was a novelty and delight. And his quick perception let nothing escape him. He seemed to watch lovingly all nature, from the grand lights and shadows which moved over the mountains, to the little moorland flowers which he made Malcolm stop to gather. All living things too, from the young rabbit that scudded across their path, to the lark that rose singing up into the wide blue air--he saw and noticed every thing. But he never once said, what Helen, who, as often as her house duties allowed, delighted to accompany them on these expeditions, was always expecting he would say, Why had God given these soulless creatures legs to run and wings to fly, strength, health, and activity to enjoy existence, and denied all these things to him? Denied them, not for a week, a month, a year, but for his whole lifetime – a lifetime so short at best; – “few of days, and full of trouble.” Why could He not have made it a little more happy? Thousands have asked themselves, in some form or other, the same unanswered, unanswerable question. Helen had done so already, young as she was; when her mother died, and her father seemed slowly breaking down, and the whole world appeared to her full of darkness and woe. How then must it have appeared to this poor boy? But, strange to say, that bitter doubt, which so often came into Helen's heart, never fell from Child’s lips at all. Either he was still a mere child, accepting life just as he saw it, and seeking no solution of its mysteries, or else, though so young, he was still strong enough to keep his doubts to himself, to bear his own burden, and trouble no one. Or else – and when she watched his inexpressibly sweet face, which had the look you sometimes see in blind faces, of absolutely untroubled peace, Helen was forced to believe this – God, who had taken away from him so much, had given him something still more – a spiritual insight so deep and clear that he was happy in spite of his heavy misfortune. She never looked at him but she thought involuntarily of the text, out of the only book with which unlearned Helen was very familiar—that “in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.” <h3>Note</h3> <div><a title="" href="#_ftnref1">[1]</a> Mr Cardross, the Earl’s minister and tutor, and Helen’s father.</div> Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource A Noble Life (1866) is Dinah Mulock Craik’s second novel to feature a disabled protagonist. It resembles her earlier novel, Olive (1850) in representing disability as a spiritually uplifting and morally improving experience, which renders the protagonist selfless, compassionate and pious. However, whereas Olive is able to pursue a career and marry, despite being “deformed”, the protagonist of A Noble Life, the Earl of Cairnforth, has to come to terms with a life of almost total self-denial. The orphaned Earl is born with multiple disabilities, described as “the smallest, saddest specimen of infantile deformity”, his body “thin, elfish, and distorted, every joint and limb being twisted in some way or other” (1.24). The doctor suggests it would be a mercy if he simply died, but the narrative works to validate the minister’s counter-argument that “God can work out His wonderful will, if He chooses, through the meanest means – through the saddest tragedies and direst misfortunes” (1.28). Although in adulthood the Earl has weak health and restricted mobility – he is carried everywhere and can only just hold a pen – he is shown to be a capable and reforming landlord, and above all to exert a good influence upon everyone he meets. His love for the minister’s daughter, Helen Cardross, is depicted as tragically impossible – since he accepts that he can never marry – but after her unworthy husband’s early death, he adopts and co-parents her son. The passage below is typical in highlighting the Earl’s moral virtues but also his reserve, implying that there is something unspeakable in the experience of disability, which somehow cuts the Earl off from those around him, forcing them to speculate about his true feelings. Although he is only a child at this point in the novel, he is already represented as being both morally superior and enigmatic to those around him. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Craik, Dinah Mulock. A Noble Life. Vol 1. London: Hurst and Blackett, 1866. Pages 125-8. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Clare Walker Gore Relation A related resource <ul><li> Bourrier, Karen, ed. Women’s Writing 20.3 (2013) Special Issue: Re-Reading Dinah Mulock Craik. </li> <li> Mitchell, Sally, Dinah Mulock Craik. Boston, MA: Twayne Publishers, 1983. </li> <li> Stoddard Holmes, Martha. Fictions of Affliction: Physical Disability in Victorian Culture. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2004. </li> <li> Walker Gore, Clare, "Noble Lives: Writing Masculinity and Disability in the Late Nineteenth Century." Nineteenth-Century Contexts 36.4 (2014): 363-375. </li> </ul> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1866 Title A name given to the resource A Noble Life Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Dinah Craik Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Hurst and Blackett Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Eilean Donan Castle, reflects the Scottish setting of A Noble Life. Image courtesy <a title="Eilean Donan Castle" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eilean_Donan">Wikipedia </a>under a Creative Commons License. Dinah Craik Masculinity Novel Orthopaedic Disability https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/999cce7e0d14ddd37ad898e6e403bc96.jpg 7195eedfc35ffc4dcb129e6c9a92bc30 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. Of course, we all know the instrument entitled the phonautograph,<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> and these curves were drawn by an improved form of phonautograph.<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> There was a cone into which you spoke, which condensed the air from your voice; at the small end of the cone, you had a stretched membrane, which vibrated when a sound was produced, and, in the course of its vibration, it controlled the movement of a long style of wood,<a title="" href="#_ftn3">[3]</a> about one foot in length, and those curves were drawn by the style upon a surface of smoked glass, which was dragged rapidly along. I myself uttered the vowels that are here shown, viz., e, a, eh, ah aah; these vowels were sung at the same pitch and with the same force, but you will observe that each is characterized by a shape of vibration of its own. In fact, when you come to examine the motion of a particle of air, there can be no doubt that every sound is characterized by a particular motion. [ . . . ] I attempted to construct one modelled as nearly as possible on the mechanism of the human ear, but upon going to a friend in Boston, Dr. Clarence J. Blake, an aurist, he suggested the novel idea of using the human ear itself as a phonautograph, and this apparatus we constructed together. It is a human ear. The interior mechanism is exposed, and to a part of it is attached a long style of hay. Upon moistening the membrane and the little bones with a mixture of glycerine and water, the mobility of the parts was restored, and on speaking into the external artificial ear, a vibration was observed, and after many experiments we were able to obtain tracings of the vibration on a sheet of smoked glass drawn rapidly along. Many of those were very beautiful, and I am sorry I have not any of them here to-night to show you, but as it is foreign to our subject, it is perhaps as well. I would merely direct your attention to the apparatus itself, as it gave me the clue to the present form of the telephone. <div> <h3>Notes</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> Bell is referencing Leon Scott’s 1857 invention, the phonautograph. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> This is an account of Bell’s 1877 Salem lectures, which explains his frequent references to visuals for the audience. The first account of these lectures appeared in the 31 March 1877 issue of Scientific American and was accompanied by pictorial illustrations. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[3]</a> According to the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, a style is “[a] sharp instrument or point for engraving, tracing, etc.” (3076). See “Style.” Shorter Oxford English Dictionary. 6th ed. Vol. 2. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2007. </div> </div> Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource As disability theorists such as Douglas Baynton, Jonathan Rée, Lennard J. Davis, Jennifer Esmail, and Jan Branson and Don Miller explain, in both America and England in the mid-nineteenth century, attitudes toward sign language shifted: whereas in the first half of the nineteenth century, “finger speech,” as signing was sometimes called, was largely approved of as a means for deaf-mutes to be included in the Christian community, in the second half of the nineteenth century, the public began to treat deaf signers as menacing outsiders who needed to be assimilated into the larger speaking community.<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> Oralists, those educators against signing, rejected signing as a primitive language, one that demeaned its users to the level of brutes (Rée 83). Oralist reformers thus fought for the removal of sign language from the curriculum of deaf schools and looked to emergent sound and writing technologies to help the pre-lingual deaf learn to speak English—and to speak it “properly.” In teaching the deaf to speak English, oralists sought a way to “soften” the “distasteful, loud, or harsh voices of deaf speakers” (Esmail 174). Bell’s father, Melville Bell, attempted to do so in the 1860s by developing a phonetic system of writing termed “Visible Speech.” Such a “universal alphabetics,” as he called it, was supposed to teach those with pre-lingual deafness how to properly enunciate English words by visually representing the shapes of sounds. Unfortunately for Bell, the system proved largely unsuccessful because deaf students could not hear themselves speak and therefore could not accurately reproduce sounds (Esmail 184). As a consequence of the inability of Visible Speech to narrow the divide between spoken language and its graphic representation, Alexander Graham Bell, a teacher of deaf children and an ardent oralist who fought for the eradication of sign language, determined to create a device that would serve as a feedback mechanism by visually representing the sounds that his deaf students were making, thus enabling them to check themselves against the tracings of “correct” speech sounds. With the assistance of Clarence J. Blake, an American ear specialist, Bell attempted to modify and repurpose Leon Scott’s 1857 invention, the phonautograph, a mechanism that used the principles of resonance to transcribe speech sounds (Sterne 31–36). Whereas Scott’s tool featured a membrane-like “diaphragm,” Bell and Blake’s 1874 “ear phonautograph” employed an actual human ear taken from a corpse to transduce sound waves into writing (Sterne 35, 31; Esmail 185). The deaf students’ vocal emissions, funneled through a metal mouthpiece, would vibrate the dead man’s ear, which would, in turn, activate a stylus to make tracings of the voice’s “shapes” onto smoked glass (Sterne 31). With the ear phonautograph, sound is thus experienced as disembodied—as alien to the speaker—and “heard” through the amputated organ of the corpse. As Esmail notes, “[T]he sound that is the source of these visual traces is wholly absent from both their ‘speaking’ and their visual ‘listening’” (Esmail 186). This prosthetic hearing device cleared the way for the invention of other sound technologies that treat sound as dislocated from the body in order to mechanically reproduce it. In fact, as Bell indicates in the lecture excerpted below, the telephone owes its realization to the ear phonautograph. <h3>Note</h3> <div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> See Douglas Baynton, “‘A Silent Exile on This Earth’: The Metaphorical Construction of Deafness in the Nineteenth Century,” The Disability Studies Reader, 3rd ed. (New York: Routledge, 2010); Jonathan Rée, I See a Voice: Deafness, Language and the Senses—A Philosophical History (New York: Metropolitan Books, 1999); Lennard J. Davis, Enforcing Normalcy: Disability, Deafness, and the Body (London: Verso, 1995); Jennifer Esmail, Reading Victorian Deafness: Signs and Sounds in Victorian Literature and Culture (Athens, OH: Ohio UP, 2013); and Jan Branson and Don Miller, Damned for Their Difference: The Cultural Construction of Deaf People as Disabled, A Sociological History (Washington, D.C.: Gallaudet UP, 2002). </div> </div> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Bell, Alexander Graham. “The Telephone.” The Musical Standard 13.698 (15 December 1877): 375–76. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1879 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Jennifer Janechek Relation A related resource <ul><li> Blake, Clarence J. “The Use of the Membrana Tympani as a Phonautograph and Logograph.” Archives of Ophthalmology and Otology 5.1 (1876): 108–13. See <a href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=b2c1AQAAMAAJ">https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=b2c1AQAAMAAJ</a> </li> <li> Esmail, Jennifer. Reading Victorian Deafness: Signs and Sounds in Victorian Literature and Culture. Athens, OH: Ohio UP, 2013. </li> <li> Sterne, Jonathan. The Audible Past: Cultural Origins of Sound Reproduction. Durham, NC: Duke UP, 2003. </li> </ul> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Moncel, Count Du. The Telephone, the Microphone and the Phonograph. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1879. 45. See <a href="https://archive.org/details/telephonemicrop00moncgoog">https://archive.org/details/telephonemicrop00moncgoog</a>. Title A name given to the resource The Ear Phonautograph Deafness Prosthesis Technology https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/0f1e1e4b36e4d6ba81e11ade96dd1eab.jpg df74c52653c74bdcbaac3c00b95b985c Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Width 1050 Height 922 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 IPTC String byline:Picasa IPTC Array a:1:{s:6:"byline";s:6:"Picasa";} Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource The frontispiece of The Pillars of the House, Vol.I, Herbert Gandy, shows Felix and Wilmet kneeling at the foot of their father's deathbed. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. Felix found Geraldine cowering down in her chair, with her hands clasped together over her forehead. She looked up at him, as if startled by his entrance. ‘O Felix, how could you?’ broke from her. ‘My dear, I could not help it. Has it been so very distressing?’ ‘Oh!’ with a great gasp, ‘I’m sure to refuse a man is the most horrible thing in the world – except to accept him!And such a man too – so great and good and kind. You shouldn’t have let him do it, Felix.’ ‘Don’t scold me, Cherry; how was I to know you would not like it?’ ‘Felix! an old man like that!’<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> ‘Well, that’s decisive,’ said Felix, laughing at the tone; ‘but, indeed, I did think you admired him very much.’ ‘So I do – but not in that way – not so as to bear to see him lower himself – and – and have to grieve him –’ and the tears started from her eyes. ‘But you know, he only could have done it because he saw a poor little lame thing and wanted to take care of her.’ ‘I think it goes a good deal deeper than that, Cherry.’ ‘I’m very sorry,’ said Cherry. ‘How very disagreeable it is that such things will happen; I thought, at any rate, that I was safe from them; and he was such an old man, and such a kind friend, that I was so proud of; and now I have vexed him so – and it is all over.’ ‘Do you really regret it? are you sure you did not speak only in the first surprise?’ ‘Felix! you! you to be against me!’ [...] ‘Cherry dear, don’t you think we ought to look at it reasonably? If you do not feel as if you cared for him – like a novel – yet still –’ ‘Hush, Felix! he is much too good to be accepted any other way.’ ‘I am not sure that he thinks so.’ ‘I do, then!’ said Cherry, raising her head up indignantly. ‘I should be ashamed to marry a man without! A lame, sickly, fretful thing like me ought to bring real love at least, to make up to a man for being bothered with her. Come, Felix, have done talking sensible nonsense! I know you don’t wish it, so don’t pretend.’ ‘I am making no pretence. It would be a dreadful business for me; but at the more I think I ought to make you consider.’ ‘Consider! Oh! I’ll consider fast enough; that beautiful drawing-room, with the statues, and the conservatory – and a carriage – and going to Italy! Do you think I am going to be bribed by things like that?’ ‘No; but to have one so fatherly, kind, and tender –’ ‘As if one wanted one’s husband to be fatherly! [...] I like him, I tell you; but not so much as the tip of your little finger!’ ‘Perhaps not now; but – ’ ‘Felix! You don’t want to get rid of me? I know you were right to argue with Wilmet,<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> and persuade her, because she had let her heart go, and only was afraid to acknowledge it; but mine isn’t gone, and couldn’t go. If I had not learnt to work, and had not a work to do, I might try to think of freeing you from a burthen; but now that I have, why should I upset it all, and wrench myself away from you? When I lean against you, I have got my home, and my rest, and all I want here. I never go away from you but I feel that I do want you so; and when one feels that, what’s the use of looking out for somebody else?’ ‘Dear little Sweetheart! Yes!’ as she lay contentedly against him, with his arm round her; ‘it only makes me tremble that you should give up a home like that, and risk so much upon my one life. [...]’ ‘I should love you better dead that any other man alive!’ cried Cherry impetuously. ‘I won’t do it, Felix! so spare your dutiful remonstrances! I do hate them so, and I know you don’t mean them!’ <h3>Notes</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> Mr.Grinstead is forty-six. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> Wilmet is the eldest sister in the family, who has already become engaged, and is subsequently married. </div> Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Pillars of the House Description An account of the resource One of Charlotte M. Yonge’s last great family sagas, The Pillars of the House (1873) prominently features disability. Several of the thirteen orphaned Underwood siblings experience disability or chronic illness: Felix, the eldest, struggles against the weakness of the lungs he has inherited from his father, who died of tuberculosis; his younger sister Geraldine has a tubercular ankle, which impairs her mobility and ultimately causes her to have her foot amputated; and the youngest brother, Theodore, is deaf, mute and developmentally disabled. The novel’s attitude towards disability and impairment is captured in the family motto, which Yonge included as a subtitle, “Under Wode, Under Rode”. The dying Reverend Underwood explains this to Felix, on his death-bed: “ ‘Bear thy cross, and thy cross will bear thee, like little Geraldine’s cross potent – Rod and Rood, Cross and Crutch – all the same etymologically and veritably.’” (1.35) This image of the Cross as prosthesis indicates the central place disability came to have in Yonge’s understanding of Christian experience. Having said this, Yonge’s representation of disabled characters in The Pillars of the House is highly various, and while physical suffering is clearly shown to be spiritually salutary, Geraldine Underwood is no saintly invalid. Although Geraldine refers to her diseased ankle as her “cross” (1.357), she does not endure pain passively: instead, she chooses to have her foot amputated, so that she can play a more active role in the family home. In fact, domesticity does not turn out to be her true calling, and she pursues her artistic talents, eventually going to stay in London to study art, and having her paintings successfully displayed at the Royal Academy. While she is in London, she receives a proposal of marriage from her new friend, the wealthy and distinguished sculptor Mr. Grinstead, which she refuses.<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> The extract below is taken from the scene in which she informs Felix of her decision. What is striking in this passage is that Geraldine appears to cite her disability as a reason not to marry, primarily in order to justify a decision she has already made for other reasons. As the scene develops, it becomes clear that she does not want to leave her adored brother Felix, nor to give up her new-found career as an artist. Disabled women are rarely depicted as marriageable in novels of this period,<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> but in this episode, Yonge represents Grinstead as being deeply in love with Geraldine, and Geraldine’s refusal as stemming from her aversion to the match, rather than from a sense of inferiority. While the heroine of Dinah Mulock Craik’s 1850 novel <a title="Link to Olive" href="http://www.nineteenthcenturydisability.org/items/show/5">Olive</a>, another disabled artist, can be seen to overcome her self-hatred through her marriage, Geraldine Underwood asserts herself in this refusal scene, and is shown to be “peaceful and happy” (2.172) in her chosen life as a celibate artist and sister. <h3>Notes</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> In the sequel to The Pillars of the House, The Long Vacation (1895), Geraldine is shown to have married Mr. Grinstead many years later, after Felix’s death. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> For a discussion of this, see Martha Stoddard Holmes, Fictions of Affliction: Physical Disability in Victorian Culture (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2004) </div> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Yonge, Charlotte Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Pillars of the House, Charlotte M. Yonge (1873), (repr. Macmillan: London, 1889), 2 vols. Vol. II, Chapter XXX, 132-134. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1873 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Clare Walker Gore Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource The frontispiece of The Pillars of the House, Vol.I, Herbert Gandy, shows Felix and Wilmet kneeling at the foot of their father's deathbed. Relation A related resource <ul><li> Colón, Susan E., “<a title="Colon Article" href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/09699081003754998#.UgivP23hcy0" target="_blank">Realism and Reserve: Charlotte Yonge and Tractarian Aesthetics</a>”. Women’s Writing 17.2 (August 2010): 221-235. </li> <li> Elizabeth Hale, “<a title="article link" href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/09699081003755151#.UgiwkW3hcy0" target="_blank">Disability and the Individual Talent: Adolescent Girlhood in The Pillars of the House and What Katy Did</a>”. Women’s Writing 17.2 (August 2010): 343-360. </li> <li> Juckett, Elizabeth C., “Cross-Gendering the Underwoods: Christian Subjection in Charlotte Yonge’s The Pillars of the House”, Antifeminism and the Victorian Novel: Rereading Nineteenth-Century Women Writers. Ed. Tamara Wagner Amherst, N.Y.: Cambria Press, 2009. </li> <li> Losano, Antonia, The Woman Painter in Victorian Literature. Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 2008. </li> </ul> Charlotte Yonge Gender Invalidism Literature Mobility Novel https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/ff3ff4b6d69ad75c393097ccbd3e94cb.jpg 0db76012c44426486226dec3a696c6ec Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Width 337 Height 549 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource This black and white photograph shows <a title="Wikipedia for Elizabeth Gilbert" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Margaretta_Maria_Gilbert" target="_blank">Elizabeth Gilbert</a> wearing a cape and shaded glasses.  From the Frontispiece of the book Elizabeth Gilbert and her Work for the Blind, Frances Martin, 1887 [available at <a href="http://archive.org/details/cu31924031232493">http://archive.org/details/cu31924031232493</a>]  Elizabeth Gilbert, the founder of the Association for Promoting the General Welfare of the Blind, lost her sight in early childhood as a result of scarlet fever. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. I was walking along a rather lonely road, humming a tune to myself – a most indefensible habit, which I only name as it accounted for my being suddenly stopped by a civil voice – “Ma’am, if you please” I turned, and now first noticed a young man who had just passed me by, stepping out quickly and decisively, with a stick in his hand and a bundle on his shoulder. “Ma’am, if you please, would you direct me to …?” naming a gentleman’s house close by, which I was proceeding to point out to him, when I perceived he had no eyes. It was a well-featured and highly intelligent countenance, with that peculiarly peaceful expression that one often sees on the faces of the blind; but of his calamity there could be no doubt: the eyes, as I said, were gone: the eyelids closed tightly over nothing.<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> Yet his step was firm, and his general appearance so active and bright, that a careless passenger would scarcely have detected that he was blind. Of course I went back with him to the door he named – in spite of his polite protestations that there was not the least necessity – “he could find it easily” – how, Heaven knows: also, I had the curiosity to lies in wait a few minutes, until I watched him come cheerily out, shoulder his big bundle, plant his stick on the ground and walk briskly back – whistling a lively tune, and marching as fast and fearlessly as though he saw every step of the road. “Have you done your business?” My friend started, but immediately recognised the voice. “Oh yes thank you, Ma’am. I’m all right. Very much obliged. Good Morning.” He recommenced his stopped tune, and pursued his way with such determined independence, that I felt as if more notice of him would be taking an unwarrantable liberty with his misfortune. But his cheerful face quite haunted me, and I speculated for a long time what ‘business’ he could be about, and how he dared trust himself alone, in the great wilderness of London and its environs, with no guide except his stick. At last I remembered he might be one of the ‘travellers’ belonging to an institution I had heard of (and the foundress of which, by coincidence, I was going that day to meet) – the ‘Association for Promoting the General Welfare of the Blind.’<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> <h2>Notes</h2> <hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" /> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> Sealing the eyelids over the sockets suggests this man may have lost his eyesight as a result of an ophthalmic infection which caused the eyeballs to rupture. See Mary Wilson Carpenter, Health, Medicine and Society in Victorian England (Santa Barbara, California: Praeger, 2010): 128-148 for further information on blindness. <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> The Association for Promoting the General Welfare of the Blind continues today under the name ‘Clarity’. A video clip, made by Clarity, to celebrate the 200-year anniversary of Charles Dickens is available at <a href="http://www.claritymatters.org/blog/charles-dickens-and-clarity/">www.claritymatters.org/blog/charles-dickens-and-clarity/</a>. Here Clarity staff members discuss Dickens’ essay and the degree to which things have changed or remained the same since the nineteenth century. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Blind! Description An account of the resource When Dinah Mulock Craik, the author of John Halifax, Gentleman and The Little Lame Prince, wrote her essay, ‘Blind’, about the Association for Promoting the General Welfare of the Blind, in 1861, she was engaging in an active discussion about the education of the visually impaired in the mid-nineteenth-century. Charles Dickens had written an essay in 1859 entitled ‘At Work in the Dark’ and Craik’s friend and flatmate, Francis Martin, published another in 1864 for Cornhill Magazine entitled ‘Blind Workers and Blind Helpers’. Each essay promotes the valuable work of the association, in providing education and retraining for the visually impaired, and explains how readers can help and support the association, and by extension the people who work there, through the purchase of brushes, baskets and mats etc made by the pupils and workers at the association. In the following extract, which opens Craik’s essay, we are told of a chance encounter between a sighted person (Craik) and a young visually impaired man. Craik portrays the man as being at ease and confident in his movement and remarks on his firm step and active appearance, walking as if he ‘saw every step of the road’. Whilst Craik presents a more personal encounter with the man than Dickens does in his essay, nineteenth-century attitudes to blindness are evident. Craik expresses surprise at the man’s ability to walk through the city independently, a common view as it was widely believed that the blind were incapable of living productive lives and were often treated as children in need of protection. Craik’s insistence that she accompany the man to the door, despite his protestations, reveals how the sighted struggled to understand how the blind could manage without their help. The extract also highlights the way in which the blind were seen as a curiosity or spectacle by the sighted as Craik lies in wait, virtually spying on the man, in order to observe how he found his way without assistance. In addition to this we can see how blindness was considered to be a tragedy or ‘misfortune’ as the face of the young man continued to ‘haunt’ Craik long after their meeting has ended. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Dinah Craik   Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Dinah Mulock Craik, The Unkind Word and Other Stories, Volume II (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1870): 1-12.  Available at: <a href="http://archive.org/stream/unkindwordothers02crai#page/n7/mode/2up">http://archive.org/stream/unkindwordothers02crai#page/n7/mode/2up</a>  Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1861 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Theresa Miller Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource This black and white photograph shows <a title="Wikipedia for Elizabeth Gilbert" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Margaretta_Maria_Gilbert" target="_blank">Elizabeth Gilbert</a> wearing a cape and shaded glasses.  From the Frontispiece of the book Elizabeth Gilbert and her Work for the Blind, Frances Martin, 1887 [available at <a href="http://archive.org/details/cu31924031232493">http://archive.org/details/cu31924031232493</a>]  Elizabeth Gilbert, the founder of the Association for Promoting the General Welfare of the Blind, lost her sight in early childhood as a result of scarlet fever. Relation A related resource <ul> <li>Carpenter, Mary Wilson. Health, Medicine and Society in Victorian England. Santa Barbara, California: Praeger, 2010. </li> <li>Frances Martin, Elizabeth Gilbert and her Work for the Blind, 1887. Available at: <a href="http://archive.org/details/cu31924031232493">http://archive.org/details/cu31924031232493</a></li> <li>Stoddard Holmes, Martha.  Fictions of Affliction: Physical Disability in Victorian Culture. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2009 [2004].</li> </ul> Language A language of the resource English Blindness Dinah Mulock Craik Institutions Journalism life writing https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/6844a26923c493325651cc5c81092d36.jpg e32a14f3a8b9b5826c42f05c889eab5d Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Width 482 Height 642 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Silas Wegg stands on his peg leg, holding a candle to examine a skeletal leg that Mr. Venus, seated, holds up for inspection. “Mr. Wegg and Mr. Venus in Consultation” by Sol Eytinge. Wood engraving, Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. Assuredly, this stall of Silas Wegg's was the hardest little stall of all the sterile little stalls in London. It gave you the face-ache to look at his apples, the stomach-ache to look at his oranges, the tooth-ache to look at his nuts.<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> Of the latter commodity he had always a grim little heap, on which lay a little wooden measure which had no discernible inside, and was considered to represent the penn'orth appointed by Magna Charta.<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> Whether from too much east wind or no—it was an easterly corner--the stall, the stock, and the keeper, were all as dry as the Desert. Wegg was a knotty man, and a close-grained, with a face carved out of very hard material, that had just as much play of expression as a watchman's rattle. When he laughed, certain jerks occurred in it, and the rattle sprung. Sooth to say, he was so wooden a man that he seemed to have taken his wooden leg naturally, and rather suggested to the fanciful observer, that he might be expected—if his development received no untimely check—to be completely set up with a pair of wooden legs in about six months. . . . [Mr. Boffin approaches Wegg’s stall and opens conversation with him.] “Noddy Boffin,” said that gentleman. “Noddy. That's my name. Noddy—or Nick—Boffin. What's your name?” “Silas Wegg.—I don't,” said Mr Wegg, bestirring himself to take the same precaution as before, “I don't know why Silas, and I don't know why Wegg.”<a title="" href="#_ftn3">[3]</a> “Now, Wegg,” said Mr Boffin, hugging his stick closer, “I want to make a sort of offer to you. Do you remember when you first see me?” The wooden Wegg looked at him with a meditative eye, and also with a softened air as descrying possibility of profit.<a title="" href="#_ftn4">[4]</a> 'Let me think. I ain't quite sure, and yet I generally take a powerful sight of notice, too. Was it on a Monday morning, when the butcher-boy had been to our house for orders, and bought a ballad of me, which, being unacquainted with the tune, I run it over to him?' “Right, Wegg, right! But he bought more than one.” . . . [Boffin admits to eavesdropping on Wegg’s ballad singing to the butcher.] “I'm coming to it! All right. I'm coming to it! I was going to say that when I listened that morning, I listened with hadmiration amounting to haw. I thought to myself, ‘Here's a man with a wooden leg—a literary man with—’” “N—not exactly so, sir,” said Mr Wegg. “Why, you know every one of these songs by name and by tune, and if you want to read or to sing any one on 'em off straight, you've only to whip on your spectacles and do it!” cried Mr Boffin. “I see you at it!” “Well, sir,” returned Mr Wegg, with a conscious inclination of the head; “we'll say literary, then.” “‘A literary man—WITH a wooden leg—and all Print is open to him!’ That's what I thought to myself, that morning,” pursued Mr Boffin, leaning forward to describe, uncramped by the clotheshorse, as large an arc as his right arm could make; “‘all Print is open to him!’ And it is, ain't it?” “Why, truly, sir,” Mr Wegg admitted, with modesty; “I believe you couldn't show me the piece of English print, that I wouldn't be equal to collaring and throwing.”<a title="" href="#_ftn5">[5]</a> <h3>Notes</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> While even Wegg’s fruit displays characteristics akin to a wooden leg, this passage could also be read in context with genuine contemporary concerns regarding the adulteration of food. See Anthony S. Wohl’s “<a href="http://www.victorianweb.org/science/health/health1.html">Adulteration and Contamination of Food in Victorian England</a>” on The Victorian Web. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> Wegg’s measurements are also woodenly rigid, and are even administered by a wooden measuring device. A “penn’orth” is a penny’s worth. For more on Victorian currency, see Marje Bloy’s “<a href="http://www.victorianweb.org/economics/currency.html">British Currency before 1971</a>” on The Victorian Web. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[3]</a> While Wegg is seemingly unaware of his name’s origin, to the reader it is really quite obvious: Wegg is an elision of “wooden” and “leg”. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[4]</a> The crippled beggar was a common trope in Victorian literary and non-fiction texts. Here, Wegg sneakily alters his tone as soon as the possibility of accruing profit arises thus associating him with the often-deployed motif. As Martha Stoddard Holmes identifies, whereas “The victimized afflicted child is a figure of pure intensity and authentic pathos; the villainous begging impostor, in contrast, evokes the emotional clarity of rage, but also ambivalence of suspicion, or the conviction that pathos or ‘emotional excess’ is fakery, a coin that disabled people use to trick the nondisabled into inappropriate giving” (Fictions of Affliction 8). While Wegg does not explicitly use his afflicted state to evoke sympathy, his money-grabbing mannerisms and deceptive strategies associate him firmly with nineteenth-century cripple stereotypes. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[5]</a> As we learn later in the novel (to comical effect), Wegg really is no literary man at all. While orating to Boffin, he stumbles over sentences, mispronounces a number of words and surreptitiously avoids answering any questions. His lumbering, clumsy reading style could perhaps be described as . . . wooden! </div> Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Our Mutual Friend Description An account of the resource <a href="http://archive.org/stream/ourmutualfriend00883gut/old/mfrnd10.txt">Our Mutual Friend</a>, first published in serial form from 1864–1865, is a novel that literalises George Henry Lewes’s observation that Charles Dickens’s characters are wooden puppets that are brought to life by incident (“Realism and the Art of the Novel” 98): the author uses Silas Wegg, a man who is both a peg leg user and depicted as wooden in appearance, character and action, to explore the greed-provoking influence of material culture. While it is not entirely surprising that Dickens presents Wegg as villainous, since he is physically marked as different by his disability, as Adrienne E. Gavin has suggested, the inclusion of a peg leg corresponds with an apparent obsession that the author had with lower limb prosthesis. In addition to Our Mutual Friend, wooden legs also appear in <a href="http://archive.org/stream/thepickwickpaper00580gut/580.txt">The Pickwick Papers</a>(1838), <a href="http://archive.org/stream/theoldcuriositys00700gut/700.txt">The Old Curiosity Shop</a> (1840–41), <a href="http://archive.org/stream/barnabyrudgeatal00917gut/old/rudge10.txt">Barnaby Rudge</a>(1841), <a href="http://archive.org/stream/martinchuzzlewit00968gut/old/chuzz10.txt">Martin Chuzzlewit</a> (1843–44) and <a href="http://archive.org/stream/davidcopperfield00766gut/766.txt">David Copperfield</a> (1849–50). A number of prosthesis wielding characters also appear in Household Words, a weekly magazine established and edited by the author, which ran from 27 March 1850 to 28 May 1859. These include the wooden-legged Dust scavenger Peg Dotting from “Dust; Or Ugliness Redeemed” (13 July 1850), the wooden-legged man described in an article published on New Year’s Day in 1859 (“New Year’s Day”) and the respectable amputee milliner’s daughter Mary Wigley from Sarah Smith’s short story “The Lucky Leg” (19 March 1859) to mention but a few. What each of these examples demonstrates is not only that Dickens was familiar with cultural and fictional representations of lower-limb amputees but that he was in fact preoccupied with issues relating to prosthesis use. Wegg’s use of a rudimentary peg leg can be read as symptomatic of his class status early on in the novel. Peg legs were in fact the cheapest and most basic devices available to amputees. Having been in circulation for several centuries, these devices consisted, in the commonest instances, of a hollow wooden bucket or cup (into which the stump would fit) fixed to a wooden peg that would reach the ground (in the place of a foot). For slightly more money, other adaptations could also be made to better fit the amputee’s stump: a leather sheath could be attached for improved comfort or a knee joint could be incorporated so that the peg could be bent whilst sitting-down. Despite these possible modifications, however, the peg leg was considered to be a low-end product. Since these devices were most commonly used by the working class and street beggars, they therefore became synonymous with low status and small income. Wegg’s occupation at the novel’s outset, then, as the owner of a street stall that sells ballads, fruit and other miscellanies, is intimately tied to his prosthesis use: as we learn, he is unable to secure regular employment with a nearby house, probably because of the limited physical capacities that were associated with limb-loss and prosthesis use. Like many disabled characters and prosthesis users depicted in nineteenth-century literature, Wegg is associated with a number of negative traits. What is particularly interesting in this instance though, and which can be considered a trope of Dickens’s fiction more widely, is the peculiar linkage between personal object and character that is displayed by Wegg. Specifically, in this instance, the peg leg user is portrayed as wooden (just like his leg) in nearly every respect imaginable. Examples elsewhere in Dickens’s oeuvre of characters that display characteristics that reflect the material properties of a particular object with which they are intimately associated, include Miss Murdstone from David Copperfield, who carries around a “hard steel purse”; as David recalls, “I had never, at that time, seen such a metallic lady altogether as Miss Murdstone was” (Chapter 3). In a similar way to how prosthesis-wearing characters depicted elsewhere were said to reflect, in character, the material properties of their devices—for instance in the case of Miss Ruff in Anthony Trollope’s <a href="http://www.nineteenthcenturydisability.org/items/show/16">The Bertrams</a>, who is as cold, hard and fixed in her mannerisms as her glass eye is in material—here Wegg’s prosthesis reflects him as much as he does it. Unlike “the Oaken Lady” of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s short story “<a href="http://archive.org/stream/drheideggersexp00hawtgoog#page/n20/mode/2up">Drowne’s Wooden Image</a>” (1844)—a wooden figure head for a boat that is so mesmerisingly mimetic an effigy that “she” is thought to have come to life when “her” original comes to town—, the aesthetic effect of Wegg’s wooden artificial part is not only blatant, but all-consuming; as we will see in the following passage, in appearance he is more wooden than the oak figure skilfully carved by the craftsman Drowne in Hawthorne’s tale. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Dickens, Charles Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Dickens, Charles. Our Mutual Friend. 1864–65. London: Everyman, 2000. Pages 48–52. Also available <a href="http://archive.org/stream/ourmutualfriend00883gut/old/mfrnd10.txt">online</a> at archive.org. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1865 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Ryan Sweet Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Silas Wegg stands on his peg leg, holding a candle to examine a skeletal leg that Mr. Venus, seated, holds up for inspection. “Mr. Wegg and Mr. Venus in Consultation” by Sol Eytinge. Wood engraving, 7.5 cm wide by 10.1 cm high. Illustration for Chapter 7 of Charles Dickens's Our Mutual Friend in the Lee & Shepard (Boston), and Charles T. Dillingham (New York) 1870 Illustrated Household Edition. Image scanned by <a href="http://www.victorianweb.org/misc/pvabio.html">Philip V. Allingham</a>. Courtesy of <a href="http://www.victorianweb.org">The Victorian Web</a>. Relation A related resource <ul><li>Gavin, Adrienne E. “<a href="http://omf.ucsc.edu/london-1865/victorian-city/wooden-legs.html">Dickens, Wegg, and Wooden Legs</a>”. Our Mutual Friend: The Scholarly Pages. Dickens Project. Santa Cruz: n.p., 1998. n. pag. Our Mutual Friend: The Scholarly Pages. Web. 18 Dec. 2012.</li> <li>Holmes, Martha Stoddard. Fictions of Affliction: Physical Disability in Victorian Culture. Ann Arbor: U of Michigan P, 2004.</li> <li>Lewes, George Henry. “Realism and the Art of the Novel”. Literary Criticism of George Henry Lewes. ed. Alice R. Kaminsky. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1964. 94–105.</li> <li>Morgentaler, Goldie. “Dickens and the Scattered Identity of Silas Wegg.” Dickens Quarterly 22.2 (2005): 92–101.</li> </ul> Language A language of the resource English Charles Dickens Class Literature Mobility Novel Prosthesis Technology https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/1c33dec5afde0bfded4d301aa14f9da6.jpg 9c21d51da135b927e72745214f67e70b Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Width 453 Height 536 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource John McL. Ralston’s illustration shows Dolor testing out his flying cloak inside the tower, with his hands to his ears. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. He hesitated, not wishing to be impolite. “Don’t you think it’s—just a little old and shabby for a prince?” The old woman laughed—long and loud, though very sweetly. “Prince, indeed! Why, if all the princes in the world craved for it, they couldn’t get it, unless I gave it them. Old and shabby! It’s the most valuable thing imaginable! Very few ever have it; but I thought I would give it to you, because—because you are different from other people.” “Am I?” said the Prince, and looked first with curiosity, then with a sort of anxiety, into his godmother’s face, which was sad and grave, with slow tears beginning to steal down. She touched his poor little legs. “These are not like those of other little boys.” “Indeed!—my nurse never told me that.” “Very likely not. But it is time you were told; and I tell you, because I love you.” “Tell me what, dear godmother?” “That you will never be able to walk or run or jump or play—that your life will be quite different from most people’s lives: but it may be a very happy life for all that. Do not be afraid.” “I am not afraid,” said the boy; but he turned very pale, and his lips began to quiver, though he did not actually cry—he was too old for that, and, perhaps, too proud. Though not wholly comprehending, he began dimly to guess what his godmother meant. He had never seen any real live boys, but he had seen pictures of them; running and jumping; which he had admired and tried hard to imitate, but always failed. Now he began to understand why he failed, and that he always should fail— that, in fact, he was not like other little boys; and it was of no use his wishing to do as they did, and play as they played, even if he had had them to play with. His was a separate life, in which he must find out new work and new pleasures for himself. The sense of the inevitable, as grown‐up people call it—that we cannot have things as we want them to be, but as they are, and that we must learn to bear them and make the best of them—this lesson, which everybody has to learn soon or late—came, alas! sadly soon, to the poor boy. He fought against it for a while, and then, quite overcome, turned and sobbed bitterly in his godmother’s arms. She comforted him—I do not know how, except that love always comforts; and then she whispered to him, in her sweet, strong, cheerful voice— “Never mind!” “No, I don’t think I do mind—that is, I won’t mind,” replied he, catching the courage of her tone and speaking like a man, though he was still such a mere boy. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Little Lame Prince Description An account of the resource Dinah Mulock Craik’s Victorian fairytale The Little Lame Prince and His Travelling Cloak (1874) tells the story of Prince Dolor, whose legs are disabled after a nurse drops him at his christening. Following the death of his father, the king of Nomansland, the infant Prince Dolor is secretly banished to a distant tower by his wicked uncle. Dolor grows up in the tower, unaware of his position as the true king of Nomansland and, as the excerpt below suggests, equally unaware of his identity as a person with disability until his fairy godmother, Stuff-and-nonsense, provides him with a magical travelling cloak that allows him to leave the castle. The adventures Dolor has on the cloak teach him lessons that make him a better ruler when he is eventually reinstated as Nomansland’s king. In the excerpt below, Stuff-and-nonsense gives Dolor his magical travelling cloak, explaining that she does so because he cannot walk. Craik wrote prolifically about the <a title="Craik Olive" href="http://www.nineteenthcenturydisability.org/items/show/5">lives of people with disabilities</a>, and explored in her fiction the consequences of being deemed physically different in a world that privileges “normalcy.” Significantly, Craik’s portrayal of disability reveals that the Victorian perception of disability was complex and, at times, self-contradictory. The following excerpt paints disability as immutably and pitiably “different,” producing for the fairytale’s audience a sentimental lesson on accepting one’s circumstances; however, at the same time, the scene demonstrates that the primary problems of disability are social, not physical. What makes Dolor weep is his social isolation, not his physical difference. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Craik, Dinah Mulock Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Dinah Mulock Craik, The Little Lame Prince and His Travelling Cloak: A Parable for Young and Old. Illus. John McL. Ralston. London: Daldy, Ibitser & Co., 1875. Pages 59-61. Available <a title="Little Lame Prince" href="http://webapp1.dlib.indiana.edu/vwwp/view?docId=VAB7135" target="_blank">online</a> at the Indiana Women Writer's Project. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1874 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Kylee-Anne Hingston Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource John McL. Ralston’s illustration shows Dolor testing out his flying cloak inside the tower, with his hands to his ears. The Little Lame Prince (London: Daldy, Isbister & Co., 1875), Microform, Archival Survival, Inc. (1990): film 7314.1 Relation A related resource <ul><li>Dowker, Ann. “The Treatment of Disability in 19th and Early 20th Century Children's Literature,” Disability Studies Quarterly 24.1 (2004). Available <a title="Little Lame Prince Article" href="http://www.dsq-sds.org" target="_blank">online</a>.</li> <li>Hingston, Kylee-Anne. "Prostheses and Narrative Perspective in Dinah Mulock Craik's The Little Lame Prince." Women's Writing. Forthcoming in 2013.</li> <li>Holmes, Martha Stoddard. Fictions of Affliction: Physical Disability in Victorian Culture, The Corporealities Series (Ann Arbour: U of Michigan P, 2004) 48. </li> <li>Mitchell, Sally. Dinah Mulock Craik. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1983. Available <a title="Sally Mitchell Dinah Craik" href="http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/craik/index.html" target="_blank">online</a> on the Victorian Web.</li> </ul> Childhood Children's Literature Dinah Mulock Craik Fairy Tale Literature Prosthesis https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/4c227392db77ae2698895747dbd45067.jpg b5f10d2c10d6a6090aa1e80972279e00 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Width 1024 Height 750 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource This coloured photo shows the harbour in San Remo; three boats sail on the blue Riviera, with villas and hills in the distance. Photomechanical print, photochrom, colour. ca. 1890 to 1900. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1860 to 1880 Description An account of the resource Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Text Any textual data included in the document. San Remo combines, in a modified degree, the invigorating qualities of Nice with the warmth of Mentone, but without its closeness; and is thus peculiarly adapted for diseases of the chest,<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> especially if the digestive organs are impaired. It lies due south, in the middle of a large bay, at the east end of which the Capo Verde, and at the west the Capo Nero, run far out to sea, and form a sufficient shelter against the winds from both quarters. Gently sloping hills, covered with orange, lemon, and olive trees, rise from these capes, one above another, in the form of an amphitheatre, extending far back till they join a chain of lofty mountains, the highest of which, Monte Bignone, rising 4300 feet, lies exactly behind the town, and these mountains again are protected by the Maritime Alps. Begnone and its fellows form one continuous range, there is not a single gap through which the wind can rush; of all the numerous valleys radiating from the town not one leads to a pass, they simply run up between the lower hills till they lose themselves, vanishing in the sides of the mountains. The lowest elevation at which the range can be crossed is 2000 feet. Unless people have seen the place they will hardly understand this description, but the truth of it is perceived at once from any of the lower hills, or, better still, by taking a boat about a mile out to sea. Of course it is a matter of the greatest importance to invalids to step at once out of the house into the lemon and olive groves without risk of exposure to wind and dust; and this advantage San Remo possesses more than any place I know, as the olive groves reach down almost to the water’s edge, and the delight of wandering amongst them none but those who have tried can know. Their immense extent also keeps the air cool in the warmer parts of the season by preventing radiation, such as takes place from the bare rocks at Mentone, making it too hot for English residents after the middle of April. […] Hitherto I have never stayed at San Remo later than the end of April, but so much has always been said to me by the natives about the salubrity of their climate in May, and they have so often assured me that it was one of their pleasantest months, that this year I was induced to try it, and we therefore remained there instead of going as usual to Germany. The weather during the whole of April had been most charming, as nearly approaching to perfection as I can imagine. Bright, beautiful, calm, cool mornings, a delightful sea breeze springing up about ten and continuing till almost half-past five, when it again calmed down, and there was a delightful twilight, cool and refreshing, of nearly two hours. The nights were also quite cool. We remained until the twenty-fifth of May, and the same description will apply to the weather during the whole of that month; it was charming, hot, but never so much so as to cause us inconvenience, while the amount of verdure prevented that intolerable glare which is so trying to the eyes in less wooded localities. […] The weather is often hotter in England in April and May than we found it at San Remo.<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> As I shall mention elsewhere, the hotel keepers are going to build houses for the convenience of bathers, hoping to make San Remo the great summer bathing place of the Riviera. It will, I am convinced, be ere long the great winter sanatorium for diseases of the chest. Amongst other recommendations, physicians all agree that it is particularly good in cases of haemorrhage, the air is so soothing. <h3>Notes</h3> <div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> In the nineteenth century “diseases of the chest” often referred to tuberculosis, but could also refer to emphysema or bronchitis (which are now known as chronic obstructive pulmonary disease). </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> The average temperature of the month of May, up to the 26th, was, maximum 79°, minimum 57°, Farenheit. [author’s footnote] </div> </div> Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource San Remo as a Winter Residence Description An account of the resource Invalidism may seem to limit mobility, confining one to the four walls of the sickroom. But, for those who were well enough and wealthy enough, the Victorians actually made an industry of travelling for the sake of one’s health. Thus, far from being immobile, an invalid could actually undertake quite a strenuous travel itinerary. Within England, one could visit a hydropathy establishment, such as <a title="Ben Rhydding" href="http://www.nineteenthcenturydisability.org/items/show/1">Ben Rhydding</a>, in Yorkshire, or a seaside resort town. San Remo was one of many popular Mediterranean locations for invalids hoping to avoid an English winter altogether. The author of the excerpt below, a self-declared invalid, writes a practical guide for Englishmen and women wishing to winter abroad, in sunny San Remo. Aspinall compares San Remo favourably to Madeira (“depressing and debilitating” 2), Egypt (“hot and dusty, and the food little calculated to suit a delicate digestion” 2) Naples, Rome and Sorrento, and Nice as a favoured spot for convalescents. He gives practical advice on the hotels (with names like Hôtel Victoria and Hôtel d’Angleterre, it is easy to see that hotels were catering to the English abroad), and specific directions for scenic walks and donkey rides in this Victorian version of Lonely Planet for invalids. In Henry James's The Portrait of a Lady (1880), San Remo is one of the tubercular Ralph Touchett's haunts, where he wiles away "a dull, bright winter beneath a slow-moving white umbrella" (242). Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource [Aspinall, W.B.] Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived W. B. Aspinall. San Remo as a Winter Residence. London: John Churchill and Sons, 1865. Pages 10-13. Available online at <a title="San Remo as a Winter Residence" href="http://archive.org/details/sanremoasawinte00aspigoog" target="_blank">archive.org</a>. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1865 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Karen Bourrier Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource This coloured photo shows the harbour in San Remo; three boats sail on the blue Riviera, with villas and hills in the distance. Photomechanical print, photochrom, colour. ca. 1890 to 1900. Courtesy <a title="San Remo Library of Congress" href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2001699351/" target="_blank">Library of Congress</a>, in the public domain (<a title="Library of Congress" href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2001699351/resource/" target="_blank">LC-DIG-ppmsc-05986</a>). Relation A related resource <ul><li>Bar-Yosef, Eitan. “The ‘Deaf-Traveller’, the ‘Blind Traveller’ and Constructions of Disability in Nineteenth-Century Travel Writing.” Victorian Review 35.2 (2009): 133-154.</li> <li>Frawley, Maria. Invalidism and Identity in Nineteenth-Century Britain. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004.</li> <li>Haley, Bruce. The Healthy Body and Victorian Culture. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1978.</li> <li>James, Henry. The Portrait of a Lady (1881). Ed Nicola Bradbury. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998.</li> </ul> Class Invalidism Medicine Mobility Travel Writing