5 10 61 https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/4843e0ea0a11561b558630326e621b1a.jpg 1b0a9d95db9719344154cb2e17c91295 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 800 Height 514 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 IPTC String copyright_notice:Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html byline:Wellcome Images object_name:L0037241 Artificial left leg headline:L0037241 Artificial left leg caption:L0037241 Artificial left leg Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk Artificial left leg with thigh socket for amputation above the knee. Photograph circa 1920 Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html IPTC Array a:5:{s:16:"copyright_notice";s:123:"Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";s:6:"byline";s:15:"Wellcome Images";s:11:"object_name";s:28:"L0037241 Artificial left leg";s:8:"headline";s:28:"L0037241 Artificial left leg";s:7:"caption";s:360:"L0037241 Artificial left leg Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk Artificial left leg with thigh socket for amputation above the knee. Photograph circa 1920 Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";} 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 An artificial left leg with a thigh socket for amputation above the knee. Photograph (circa 1920). Courtesy of <a title="Wellcome Images" href="http://wellcomeimages.org/" target="_blank">Wellcome Library, London</a> under a Creative Commons License (<a title="Wellcome Images" href="http://wellcomeimages.org/" target="_blank">Museum No A500465</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 1837 to 1860 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 shall proceed to adduce in favour of a single member, in opposition to what I am forced to confess is the general current opinion, an opinion resulting as I hope to shew [sic.], from inconsiderate habit and the mere accident of birth. Let us glance, then, in the outset, at the numberless miseries and calamities in every shape that lie in wait for the thoughtless bipeds who on two active legs run to-and-fro upon the earth, and, mounted on “Shank’s naggie,”<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> rush headlong to their hurt. Let him number who can the fractures, the maimings, the fatal results that have ensued from these rampant and foolhardy exploits in which a man of single sole would never engage, and could not if he would. How many enterprising youths have broken their necks through having one leg too much? How many have jumped at all, had they, instead of elastic flesh and sinew, possessed good wooden substitutes? How many have sunk in the fateful flood who would never have dreamed of swimming with a timber-toe? and how many have followed their heedless noses into irretrievable mischief, who would have remained safe from all harm upon a single foot? Then look at the double risks of the double-footed, even in calamities that come unsought. The gout, that horrible visitant, has but half a victim in a one-legged man; of corns, also, he has but half a crop; his bunions never mar his quiet pilgrimage; and, come what may, he cannot by any possibility suffer from damp feet. [. . .] Then the man of one leg, it must not be forgotten, is the possessor of certain physical advantages to which the biped is for ever a stranger. He is exempt by law from all personal participation in the turmoils and brutalities of war. A man of peace by Act of Parliament,<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> he never incurs the disgrace of running away, or is laughed at for avoiding a combat by shewing what he has not got “a fair pair of heels”—though if by any aggression he is driven to his shifts, he can, upon an emergency, find a footing where the greatest hero upon two legs could not make a stand. Or he may cross a steam dry-shot where another would get up to his knee in water, simply by plunging his insensible substitute in the middle, and transferring the natural limb to the opposite bank. [. . .] Moreover, in cases of emergency, when it becomes necessary to put the best foot foremost, he is never hesitating and at a loss, like your bipeds, being at no pains on deciding between the leg which cost him nothing, and that which has cost him perhaps from ten shillings to ten pounds,<a title="" href="#_ftn3">[3]</a> as taste or circumstances may have led him to the adoption of the convenient cork, the patent spring, or the unsophisticated but manly stump, in the choice of a pedestal. I might enumerate many other advantages which contribute to his exclusive enjoyment, were I so disposed, but I scorn to accumulate evidence in favour of a truth which the reader must by this time be ready to admit, and shall proceed, as in fairness bound, to notice the objections that may be urged by prejudiced bipeds against his fortunate condition. <h3>Notes</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> A Scottish phrase literally meaning “to ride on Shank’s mare”. To “shank” is “To set off smartly, to walk away with expedition” (Jamieson 342). In this context, then, Smith means merely to walk with great haste. See Jamieson, John. Supplement to the Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language. Vol. 2. Edinburgh, 1825. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> Like nowadays, men wishing to enlist in the British Army faced a medical screening. If an applicant did not match certain physical requirements, he was not offered an enlistment (which were typically for ten or twelve years). For more on British Army enlistment, see Skelley, Alan Ramsay. The Victorian Army at Home: The Recruitment and Terms and Conditions of the British Regular, 1859-1899. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1977. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[3]</a> There was in fact a huge difference in price between top-of-the-range artificial legs (such as those made by British prosthetist Frederick Gray and the Americans Frank Palmer and A. A. Marks) and peg legs, which were produced by carpenters, cabinet makers and doctors as well as by prosthesis specialists. Mexican political leader Antonio López de Santa Anna, who lost his leg fighting the French in 1839, is said to have purchased two high-tech wooden legs from an American cabinet maker for a staggering $1,300 a piece. By contrast, in 1888 A. A. Marks charged just $10 a piece for his cheapest peg legs. For more on nineteenth-century British currency, see Marje Bloy’s “<a href="http://www.victorianweb.org/economics/currency.html">British Currency before 1971</a>” on The Victorian Web. </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 An Essay on Wooden Legs, with Some Account of Herr Von Holtzbein Description An account of the resource Charles Manby Smith (1804–80) was a writer fascinated by and deeply concerned with the position of “cripples” in Victorian society. In the second edition of his most famous work <a href="http://archive.org/stream/curiositiesoflon00smit#page/16/mode/2up">Curiosities of London Life: Or, Phases, Physiological and Social, of the Great Metropolis</a> (1857), a study of London street life that has been compared to Charles Dickens’s <a href="http://archive.org/details/sketchesbyboz00dick">Sketches by Boz</a>(1833–36) and Henry Mayhew’s <a href="http://archive.org/stream/londonlabourlond01mayhrich#page/n7/mode/2up">London Labour and the London Poor</a> (1851), he expresses particular anxiety for those maimed by “commerce” (referring to labourers injured by industrial machinery), who, according to him, were given little support and “left to fight the battle of life at fearful odds” (17). The “tale of adventure” “<a href="http://archive.org/stream/deadlockalsotal00smitgoog#page/n6/mode/2up">An Essay on Wooden Legs, with Some Account of Herr Von Holtzbein</a>” (first printed in the April 1854 edition of Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine and later published in a volume with Smith’s novel The Dead Lockin 1863), on the other hand, presents the amputee as curios whilst playfully gesturing toward the enabling potential of human prosthesis. In a perspicuously ironic manner, the narrator of “An Essay on Wooden Legs” goes beyond identifying prostheses as devices that can enable amputees to live normal lives, suggesting instead that such technologies are capable of enhancing a user beyond the limits of normalcy. As the narrator explains, “it is my present purpose to reconsider a question which I fear has been too summarily settled, without duly weighing the arguments which have been, or might be, adduced on both sides—the question being, whether TWO legs are better than ONE” (emphasis original; 247). According to the narrator, the use of an artificial leg not only lessens the chances of the user contracting illnesses or defects, such as gout, corns, and bunions, but also prevents damp feet and the risk of sustaining injuries as a result of doing things too quickly. It also, according to the narrator, provides some physical advantages, such as providing a better footing on soft ground. To exemplify his argument, the narrator also tells the story of Herr Von Holtzbein—the name in German literally means “wooden leg”—, a Berlin-based war veteran, who after losing his leg to a bullet-wound in the Napoleonic war, “cured the ills that fighting flesh is heir to by applications of wood and steel, and leather and whalebone and cork, all so elaborately made and so perfectly simulating nature's handy-work, that his reputation, amateur though he was, surpassed that of the first professors of the day” (254). After Von Holtzbein’s daughter gets engaged to a fellow veteran’s son, the prosthesis maker breaks off the engagement because of an off-hand comment made by the young suitor regarding the inferiority of prosthetic limbs to their organic equivalents. Only after the suitor has an accident himself—resulting in amputation and the chartable offering of an artificial leg by Von Holtzbein—is the relationship between father and son-in-law-to-be restored. Herr Doppelschank, the suitor, is thus only enabled to marry the successful prosthetist’s daughter (thus raising his status and, presumably, his finances) once he is himself adorned with a prosthetic limb. While the tone of Smith’s “tale of adventure” is obviously ironic, what is significant is that at no point are inorganic-looking prostheses privileged over human legs. Indeed, Von Holtzbein’s legs are described as being so impressive exactly because they “so perfectly simulat[e] nature's handy-work” (254). In this sense, then, while the author light-heartedly champions the durability of wood as a replacement for “elastic flesh and sinew” (248), he resists advocating a prosthetic device that looks mechanical or inhuman. The tale is therefore comical, rather than radical. The artificial limb is suggested to be more durable and resilient than the organic, but quietly nature’s design goes unquestioned. While the author is happy to mock the material flaws of the organic leg and also the supposed ingeniousness of contemporary artificial legs, he nonetheless privileges the appearance of the natural limb. This restraint reflects a wider Victorian acceptance of prosthetic technology on the condition that it resembles human form and masks the disability of its user. Indeed, as Vanessa Warne and others have identified, artificial legs (like the one displayed in the image above and those produced by Von Holtzbein) were seen as distinct from and were privileged over peg legs (worn predominantly by lower class characters such as Silas Wegg from Dickens’s <a href="http://archive.org/stream/ourmutualfriend00883gut/old/mfrnd10.txt">Our Mutual Friend</a>) in the Victorian period since they possessed superior mimetic capabilities and better disguised middle-class and aristocratic users from appearing maimed. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Smith, Charles Manby Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1854 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Ryan Sweet Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource An artificial left leg with a thigh socket for amputation above the knee. Photograph (circa 1920). Courtesy of <a title="Wellcome Images" href="http://wellcomeimages.org/" target="_blank">Wellcome Library, London</a> under a Creative Commons License (<a title="Wellcome Images" href="http://wellcomeimages.org/" target="_blank">Museum No A500465</a>). Relation A related resource <ul><li>Gray, Frederick. Automatic Mechanism, as Applied in the Construction of Artificial Limbs, in Cases of Amputation. London, 1855. Available <a href="http://archive.org/details/automaticmechani00gray">online</a> at archive.org.</li> <li>Mihm, Stephen. “A Limb Which Shall Be Presentable In Polite Society: Prosthetic Technologies in the Nineteenth Century”. eds. Katherine Ott, David Serlin and Stephen Mihm. Artificial Parts, Practical Lives: Modern Histories of Prosthetics. New York: New York University Press, 2002. 282–299. Print.</li> <li>Warne, Vanessa. “‘To Invest a Cripple with Peculiar Interest’: Artificial Legs and Upper-Class Amputees at Mid-Century”. Victorian Review 35.2 (2009): 83–100.</li> </ul> Language A language of the resource English Medicine Mobility Prosthesis Technology https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/78e981d9936899a347106d72adaef088.jpg 7b203ac401640e93e2df0502b6633d77 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 378 Height 532 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 IPTC String copyright_notice:Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html byline:Wellcome Images object_name:V0015892 A blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog headline:V0015892 A blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog with caption:V0015892 A blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog with Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog with a begging bowl. Etching by J.T. Smith, 1816. 1816 By: John Thomas SmithPublished: 30 April 1816 Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html IPTC Array a:5:{s:16:"copyright_notice";s:123:"Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";s:6:"byline";s:15:"Wellcome Images";s:11:"object_name";s:64:"V0015892 A blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog";s:8:"headline";s:69:"V0015892 A blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog with";s:7:"caption";s:452:"V0015892 A blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog with Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog with a begging bowl. Etching by J.T. Smith, 1816. 1816 By: John Thomas SmithPublished: 30 April 1816 Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";} 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 In this black and white etching, a blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog, who carries a begging bowl. Etching by J.T. Smith, 1816. 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 1880 to 1901 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 stands, a patient figure, where the crowd Heaves to and fro; a sound is in his ears As of a vexed sea roaring, and he hears In darkness, as a dead man in his shroud. Patient he stands, with age and sorrow bowed, And holds a piteous hat of ancient years; And in his face and gesture there appears The desperate humbleness of poor men proud What thoughts are his, as, with the inward sight, He sees the glad unheeding Fair go by? Is the long darkness darker for that light And sorrow nearer when such mirth is nigh? Patient, alone, he stands from morn to night, Pleading in his reproachful misery. 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 Blind Beggar' Description An account of the resource When <a title="Arthur Symons Wikipedia" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Symons" target="_blank">Arthur Symons</a> (1865-1945) published his sonnet “The Blind Beggar” in 1892, he added to an already large body of literature that links the experience of visual disability with begging.  Noteworthy among texts from the period that portray blind beggars is William Wordsworth’s posthumously published autobiographical poem <a title="The Prelude" href="http://www.nineteenthcenturydisability.org/items/show/11" target="_self">The Prelude</a> (1805, 1850). Whereas Wordsworth’s sighted speaker experiences an epiphany about the limitations of human knowledge while looking at a blind man, Symons’ speaker is far less assured and comes away from his encounter with a blind beggar with questions instead of answers.  Whereas for Wordsworth’s speaker, the blind man is useful both for how he prompts the speaker to greater insight and for the way in which he conveniently embodies human experience, for Symons’ speaker, the encounter with a blind man prompts him to wonder about the mental and emotional life of the blind man and about the blind man’s experience of social isolation.  Interested both in the experience of sensory disability and in the social marginalization and financial dependency that the poem attributes to the beggar’s disability, the speaker leaves the questions he asks unanswered.   He produces, nonetheless, a detailed, predictable and problematic portrait of the blind beggar.  The beggar, who is characterized by both the poem’s final word, “misery,” and by the thrice-repeated adjective “patient,” is isolated from the carefree crowd, described as “the glad unheeding Fair.”  Symons’ characterization of the blind man as passive is most apparent, and most troubling, in a simile that compares the blind man to a corpse.  Imagining the sensory experiences of a blind person, Symons’ speaker proposes that the blind man “hears/ In darkness, as a dead man in his shroud.”  While the simile enacts a doubling of the blind man’s disability, suggesting that the blind man can neither see nor hear, it is most remarkable for its disturbing identification of disability with death.  The poem, characterized by its mix of dehumanizing and empathetic statements, is usefully read in relation not only to other poems that feature blind beggars but also in relation to prose commentaries on the presence of blind beggars in nineteenth-century city streets.  When Charles Lamb defended the rights of blind beggars in his 1822 essay “A Complaint of the Decay of Beggars in the Metropolis,” he argued against campaigns to remove blind beggars from the streets, asserting that the claims being made on private charity by visually disabled men were legitimate and that freedom of movement and social contact with a wider community were highly valued by, and beneficial to, people with visual disabilities.  In contrast, Andrew Halliday, writing in Volume 4 of London Labour and the London Poor (1851-1861), commended the London Mendicity Society, an organization whose aim was to bring an end to public begging, in part by encouraging police to arrest street beggars.  While Halliday views “blind men and cripples” as having a more legitimate claim than most beggars to public sympathy and charity, he is ill at ease with the presence of some beggars in public places.  He writes: “The officers of the Mendicity Society have cleared the streets of nearly all the impostors, and the few who remain are blind men and cripples […] I cannot think, however, that the police exercise a wise discretion in permitting some of the more hideous of these beggars to infest the street” (4:431-3). Focused on a personage who was arguably the public face of visual disability in the nineteenth century, the blind street beggar, Symons’ sonnet contributed not only to a well-established literary tradition of linking blindness with begging but also to an important and ongoing debate about begging, charitable giving and the presence of impoverished visually disabled people on Britain’s public streets. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Symons, Arthur Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Symons, Arthur “The Blind Beggar” (1892). Poems by Arthur Symons. Vol. 1. London: Heinemann, 1927. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1892 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Vanessa Warne Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In this black and white etching, a blind beggar walks past two figures guided by his dog, who carries a begging bowl. Etching by J.T. Smith, 1816. Courtesy <a title="Wellcome Images" href="http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/" target="_blank">Wellcome Library, London</a> under a Creative Commons License (<a title="Wellcome Library" href="http://catalogue.wellcomelibrary.org/record=b1174340" target="_blank">Wellcome Library no. 16453i</a>). Relation A related resource <ul> <li>Lamb, Charles.  “A Complaint of the Decay of Beggars in the Metropolis.” Essays of Elia and Last Essays of Elia.  London: J.M. Dent, 1972. 134-41</li> <li>Mayhew, Henry.  London Labour and the London Poor.  4 vols. 1861-62.  Reprint.  New York: Dover, 1968.</li> <li>Warne, Vanessa.  “Clearing the Streets: Blindness and Begging in Henry Mayhew’s London Labour and the London Poor.” City Limits: Perspectives on the Historical European City. Glenn Clark, Judith Owens, and Greg Smith eds.  Montreal: McGill-Queen’s UP, 2010.</li> <li>Wordsworth, William.  <a title="The Prelude" href="http://www.nineteenthcenturydisability.org/items/show/11" target="_self">“The Prelude [Excerpt],” </a>  Annotated by Vanessa Warne.  Nineteenth-Century Disability: A Digital Reader.  </li> </ul> Arthur Symons Blindness Class Literature Poetry William Wordsworth https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/223e90d53a50a30669bcdec5a4411574.jpeg 44ccb11f742b60fa912395d02a2ae58e 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 woman swathed in the robes of a Greek goddess measures two children with a ruler that reads: “Haec est regula recti” (“This is the model of straightness”). 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 1837 to 1860 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. [T]here is no higher pleasure, no greater distinction, no more exalted exercise of the human mind, than that profession which has for its object the benefit of our species, and the mitigation and removal of those ills to which all of mortal birth are subjected. To the visitation of deformity this remark applies with double force, for the deformed have been regarded as loathsome in body, and depraved in mind; they have often isolated themselves from their fellow creatures; persecution of them has ever been sanctioned by the Mosaic ceremonial, which admitted the unblemished alone to the dignity of priesthood. Possessing all the feelings, and susceptible of all the impulses which animate the breast of man, frequently morbidly sensitive from the consciousness of their deformity, adorned with genius, gifted with wit, graced by fortune and by birth, crowned with learning,--still is the deformed man exposed to the derision of the heartless, and is shut out from the world simply because nature has played some freak by which he differs from his fellow mortals. Nevertheless, history records the names of many whose spiritual excellence overcame their bodily deformity: Socrates, Aesop, Alexander the Great, whose head his said to have inclined slightly to the left shoulder, the illustrious Lord Burleigh, Pope, Talleyrand, Sir Walter Scott, Flaxman, and Byron, were all deformed in different degrees.<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> I believe the sole instance recorded by the classic poets of female deformity is a woman named Kutila, who lived to be a hundred, she is spoken of by Pliny, and also by Juvenal. A facetious Englishman, named Hay, has written an Essay on Bodily Deformity, in which he good-naturedly and sensibly vindicates those labouring under such an affliction from the stigma so ungenerously cast upon them.<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> He was himself deformed. <div> <h3>Notes</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Socrates">Socrates</a> (c. 469-399 BC), an ancient Greek philosopher, was considered by some ugly to the point of deformity; <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aesop">Aesop</a> (c. 620–564 BC), was an ancient Greek fabulist sometimes depicted as a hunchback; <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_the_Great">Alexander the Great</a> (356-323 BC) was the King of Macedon who united Greece; <a href="http://www.britannia.com/history/r-cecil.html">Lord Burleigh</a> (Robert Cecil, 1563-1812), a powerful Elizabethan politician, had a slight hunch back; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_Pope">Alexander Pope</a> (1688-1744) a satirical English poet, had a hunch back; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Maurice_de_Talleyrand-P%C3%A9rigord">Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord</a> (1754-1838), a politician and aristocrat who survived the French Revolution, had a clubfoot caused by Marfan syndrome; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_Scott">Walter Scott</a> (1771-1832), nineteenth-century novelist, was lame; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Flaxman">John Flaxman</a> (1755-1826) a neoclassical sculptor, had a shoulder deformity; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byron">Lord Byron</a> (1788-1824), a Romantic poet, was born with a club foot. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> Member of Parliament <a title="William Hay" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Hay_(MP)">William Hay</a> (1695-1755), who had a hunch back, wrote what is now considered the first personal memoir of deformity in 1754. See William Hay. Deformity: An Essay. Ed. Kathleen James-Cavan. Victoria, BC: English Literary Studies, University of Victoria, 2004. </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/. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Tamplin, Richard William. Lectures on the Nature and Treatment of Deformities, Delivered at the Royal Orthopaedic Hospital, Bloomsbury Square. London: 1846. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1846 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Karen Bourrier Relation A related resource <ul><li>Borsay, Anne. “Disciplining Disabled Bodies: The Development of Orthopaedic Medicine in Britain, c.1800-1939.” Social Histories of Disability and Deformity: Bodies, Images and Experiences. Ed. David M. Turner and Kevin Stagg. New York: Routledge, 2006.</li> <li>Bourrier, Karen. “Orthopaedic Disability and the Nineteenth-Century Novel.” Nineteenth-Century Contexts. 36.1 (2014): 1-17.</li> <li>Klenerman, Leslie. The Evolution of Orthopaedic Surgery. London: Royal Society of Medicine, 2002.</li> </ul> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Frontispiece from Nicolas Andry's Orthopaedia. A woman swathed in the robes of a Greek goddess measures two children with a ruler that reads: “Haec est regula recti” (“This is the model of straightness”). Image Courtesy the Wellcome Institute for the History of Medicine under a Creative Commons License. Title A name given to the resource Lectures on the Nature and Treatment of Deformity Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Tamplin, Richard William Description An account of the resource Orthopaedic medicine began as a general practice of child rearing in France with Nicolas Andry’s Orthopaedia (1741). (Andry’s work was translated into English in 1743.) In the mid-nineteenth century, orthopaedic medicine became a specialized branch of surgery that aimed to surgically correct asymmetries in the human frame, ranging from club foot to wry neck to hunch back. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_National_Orthopaedic_Hospital">Royal Orthopaedic Hopsital of London</a>, which began as a small institution in Bloomsbury Square in 1838, had moved to Oxford Street by 1865, and treated over 1600 cases of “deformity of all kinds”, according to surgeon William Adams, annually.<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> The following excerpt, from surgeon R. W. Tamplin’s 1846 series of lectures, brings to the fore several ideas associated with orthopaedic disability in the nineteenth century. Firstly, orthopaedic disability, rather than being seen as a variation in human form that may or may not need any intervention, became seen as an individual medical “problem” that needed to be treated through specialized surgery. In addition, orthopaedic disability was presumed to have a strong emotional impact on the individual, who would feel isolated from the community; this emotional impact, rather than any medical issue, was often given as one of the primary reason to operate on a person with a disability. A second emotional effect that orthopaedic disability might have on an individual was to spur them to “overcome” their disability by achieving great success, as Tamplin notes in his list of eminent individuals below.<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> Nineteenth-century thinkers seemed to associate orthopaedic disabilities and their presumed emotional excesses with men in particular, though there is no reason to think that orthopaedic disabilities affected men in greater numbers than women. <div> <h3>Notes</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> William Adams. Lectures on the Pathology and Treatment of Lateral and Other of Forms Curvature of the Spine. London: 1865, page 9. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> As disability studies scholars have noted, this overcoming narrative can have the pernicious effect of making it seem as though people with disabilities must achieve great success in order to compensate for a perceived lack. </div> </div> Medicine Mobility Orthopaedic Disability https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/145eea89916fbad772e9418fb8ae923f.jpg ecb1ed3f15257f9d554a70913a4d24b1 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 "It was a sight to see, a deed to record." Black and white illustration of Slope bending over Signora Neroni, who lies on her invalid couch. 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 1837 to 1860 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. She had fallen, she said, in ascending a ruin, and had fatally injured the sinews of her knee; so fatally, that when she stood she lost eight inches of her accustomed height; so fatally that when she assayed to move, she could only drag herself painfully along, with protruded hip and extended foot in a manner less graceful than that of a hunchback. She had consequently made up her mind, once and for ever, that she would never stand, and never attempt to move herself. Stories were not slow to follow her, averring that she had been cruelly ill-used by Neroni, and that to his violence she owed her accident. Be that as it may, little had been said about her husband, but that little had made it clearly intelligible to the family that Signor Neroni was to be seen and heard of no more. […] Madeline Neroni, though forced to give up all motion in the world, had no attention whatever of giving up the world itself. The beauty of her face was uninjured, and that beauty was of a peculiar kind. Her copious brown hair was worn in Grecian bandeaux<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> round her head, displaying as much as possible of her forehead and cheeks. Her forehead, though rather low, was very beautiful from its perfect contour and pearly whiteness. Her eyes were long and large, and marvelously bright; might I venture to say, bright as Lucifer’s<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a>, I should perhaps best express the depth of their brilliancy. They were dreadful eyes to look at, such as would absolutely deter any man of quiet mind and easy spirit from attempting a passage of arms with such foes. There was talent in them, and the fire of passion and the play of wit, but there was no love. Cruelty was there instead, and courage, a desire of masterhood, cunning, and a wish for mischief. And yet, as eyes, they were very beautiful. The eyelashes were long and perfect, and the long steady unabashed gaze, with which she would look into the face of her admirer, fascinated while it frightened him. She was a basilisk<a title="" href="#_ftn3">[3]</a> from whom an ardent lover of beauty could make no escape. Her nose and mouth and teeth and chin and neck and bust were perfect, much more so at twenty-eight than they had been at eighteen. What wonder that with such charms still glowing in her face, and with such deformity destroying her figure, she should resolve to be seen, but only to be seen reclining on a sofa. Her resolve had not been carried out without difficulty. She had still frequented the opera at Milan; she had still been seen occasionally in the saloons of the noblesse<a title="" href="#_ftn4">[4]</a>; she had caused herself to be carried in and out from her carriage, and that in such a manner as in no wise to disturb her charms, disarrange her dress, or expose her deformities. (75-76) <h3>Notes</h3> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> A bandeaux refers to a narrow band of ribbon worn around the head, as a kind of headdress. Especially popular in Regency fashion, the ribbon could be made from a variety of materials, such as velvet or silk, and might be worn both formally and informally. <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> Lucifer is the name given to the rebellious archangel who falls from heaven and becomes known as Satan. Here Trollope plays on the notion of the Signora’s literal and figurative “fall” from beauty and grace. <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[3]</a> Ancient writers describe the basilisk as a reptilian creature with a loud, frightening hiss and fatal breath. Like Medusa, the basilisk’s very look had the power to destroy its viewer. <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[4]</a> Of noble birth or rank. 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 Barchester Towers Description An account of the resource Anthony Trollope’s Barchester Towers (1857), the second novel in his “Chronicles of Barsetshire” series, details the public ecclesiastic conflicts between the newly powerful Evangelicals of the Church and the reigning Tory conservatives. However, the private realm of the novel’s accompanying domestic plot offers a fascinating depiction of a physically disabled woman who captivates men with her beauty and sensuality. Signora Madeline Neroni, Trollope’s crippled seductress, forms a stark contrast to Trollope’s chaste and comparatively dull heroine, Eleanor Bold. As with many disabled women in nineteenth century novels, Madeline’s physical defect is linked to her transgressive sexuality—a physical manifestation of dubious morality. Her legs are irreparably damaged as a result of the violence of a husband who has abandoned her, and the novel seems to frame the injury as due punishment for succumbing to pre-marital sex. Like the many disabled female figures of sexual excess Martha Stoddard Holmes describes, Madeline functions only as a catalyst to the able-bodied heroine’s romance plot before disappearing from view in order to alleviate the anxiety her body generates. Yet, as modern feminist critics note, the spectacle of Madeline’s damaged body makes Trollope’s text a key site for tracing historical links between domestic abuse, sexuality, and disability. As Kate Lawson suggests, Madeline “keep[s] the image of the maimed body before us, the tantalizing yet repellent reminder of a—perhaps–grotesque act of domestic violence. Her disfigurement is both a source of continual fascination, of curiousity, and…repulsion” (57). Trollope describes Madeline’s defective body in shocking detail, making the reality of her damaged body visible for the reader. Yet, paradoxically, her meticulous construction of herself as beautiful, elaborately adorned, and sexually desirable depends upon her careful concealment of her crippled limbs. This consistent tension between grotesque display and mysterious veiling haunts Madeline’s character throughout the novel. Suzanne Rintoul notes that her “always only partially visible disability marks a break-down in representation and interpretation for those who work to circumscribe their identities through her abnormal body,” arguing that this “indecipherability” exposes the flaws of the community that surrounds her (7). Ultimately, the spectacle of the Signora’s body, always simultaneously hidden and revealed, invites a complex reading of female disability, agency, and the politics of display, as well as the notion of the mutilated woman’s body as evidence of unspoken violence between men and women. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Trollope, Anthony Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1857 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Melina Moore Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource "It was a sight to see, a deed to record." Black and white illustration of Slope bending over Signora Neroni, who lies on her invalid couch. Illustrated by Hugh M. Eaton (New York: the Century Co, 1902): 252. Image courtesy<a title="Wikimedia Barchester Towers" href="http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Barchester_Towers"> Wikimedia Commons</a> under a Creative Commons license. Relation A related resource <ul><li> Holmes, Martha Stoddard. Fictions of Affliction: Physical Disability in Victorian Culture, The Corporealities Series (Ann Arbour: U of Michigan P, 2004). </li> <li> Lawson, Kate. “Abject and Defiled: Signora Neroni’s Body and the Question of Domestic Violence in Barchester Towers,” Victorian Review 21:1 (1995) 53-68. </li> <li> Rintoul, Suzanne. “The Mysterious Woman and Her Legs: Scrutinizing the Disabled Body in Barchester Towers,” Nineteenth-Century Gender Studies 7.1 (2011). Available <a href="http://www.ncgsjournal.com/issue71/rintoul.htm">online.</a> </li> </ul> Anthony Trollope Gender Invalidism Literature Mobility Novel https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/dfb3d57671da48f43f07bbc25d2db837.jpg 2b8ebc083ad500236f735bd05338ccdb 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 391 Height 524 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 IPTC String copyright_notice:Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html byline:Wellcome Images object_name:L0047932 A lady retiring to bed, and ordering her maid to look a headline:L0047932 A lady retiring to bed, and ordering her maid to look after caption:L0047932 A lady retiring to bed, and ordering her maid to look after Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A lady retiring to bed, and ordering her maid to look after her artificial aids to beauty (wig, teeth, glass eye etc.). Coloured etching by P. Roberts after G.M Woodward Titled \'Celia Retiring\' c. 1807 By: G. M. Woodwardafter: P. RobertsPublished: [ca. 1807] Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html IPTC Array a:5:{s:16:"copyright_notice";s:123:"Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";s:6:"byline";s:15:"Wellcome Images";s:11:"object_name";s:64:"L0047932 A lady retiring to bed, and ordering her maid to look a";s:8:"headline";s:68:"L0047932 A lady retiring to bed, and ordering her maid to look after";s:7:"caption";s:555:"L0047932 A lady retiring to bed, and ordering her maid to look after Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A lady retiring to bed, and ordering her maid to look after her artificial aids to beauty (wig, teeth, glass eye etc.). Coloured etching by P. Roberts after G.M Woodward Titled \'Celia Retiring\' c. 1807 By: G. M. Woodwardafter: P. RobertsPublished: [ca. 1807] Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";} 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 colour sketch shows a lady retiring to bed and ordering her maid to look after her artificial aids to beauty (wig, teeth, glass eye etc.), entitled “Celia Retiring” by P. Roberts (after G.M Woodward). Coloured etching, 1807. 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 1837 to 1860 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. A lion-hearted old warrior was Miss Ruff,—one who could not stand with patience the modern practice of dallying in the presence of her enemies' guns. She had come there for a rubber of whist<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a>—to fight the good fight—to conquer or to die, and her soul longed to be at it […] “That Miss Ruff is dreadful.” Here an awful note was heard, for the Lady Ruth had just put her thirteenth trump on Miss Ruff's thirteenth heart. What Littlebathian female soul could stand that unmoved? “Oh, dear! that poor old woman!” continued Miss Todd. “You know one lives in constant fear of her having a fit. Miss Ruff is horrible. She has a way of looking with that fixed eye<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a> of hers that is almost worse than her voice.” The fact was, that Miss Ruff had one glass eye. “I know she'll be the death of that poor old creature some of these days. Lady Ruth will play, and she hardly knows one card from another. And then Miss Ruff, she will scold. Good heavens! do you hear that?” “It's just seven minutes since I turned the last trick of the last hand,” Miss Ruff had said, scornfully. “We shall have finished the two rubbers about six in the morning, I take it.” “Will your ladyship allow me to deal for you?” said Mr. Fuzzybell, meaning to be civil. “I'll allow you to do no such thing,” croaked out Lady Ruth. “I can deal very well myself; at any rate as well as Miss Ruff. And I'm not the least in a hurry;” and she went on slobbering out the cards, and counting them over and over again, almost as each card fell [. . .] This was dreadful to Miss Ruff. Here had her rival played two rubbers, won them both, pocketed all but a sovereign<a title="" href="#_ftn3">[3]</a>, and was again at work; while she, she was still painfully toiling through her second game, the first having been scored against her by her partner's fatuity in having trumped her long heart. Was this to be borne with patience? “Lady Ruth,” she said, emitting fire out of her one eye, “do you ever mean to have done dealing those cards?” Lady Ruth did not condescend to make any answer, but recommenced her leisurely counting; and then Miss Ruff uttered that terrific screech which had peculiarly excited Miss Todd's attention. [. . .] The table at which Lady Ruth and her party were sitting—we ought rather to say, Miss Ruff and her party—was in one corner of the room, and our friends had placed themselves on a cushioned seat fixed against the wall in this very corner. Things were still going badly with Miss Ruff. As Sindbad carried the old man, and could not shake him off, so did Miss Ruff still carry Lady Ruth Revoke; and the weight was too much for her. She manfully struggled on, however—womanfully would perhaps be a stronger and more appropriate word. She had to calculate not only how to play her own hand correctly, but she had also to calculate on her partner's probable errors. This was hard work, and required that all around her should be undisturbed and silent [. . .] The quarrelling had been going on unabated, but that had caused little surprise. It is astonishing how soon the ear becomes used to incivilities. They were now accustomed to Miss Ruff's voice, and thought nothing of her exclamations. “Well, I declare—what, the ten of spades!—ha! ha! ha! well, it is an excellent joke—if you could have obliged me, Lady Ruth, by returning my lead of trumps, we should have been out,” &c., &c., &c. All this and more attracted no attention, and the general pity for Lady Ruth had become dead and passive. But at last Miss Ruff's tongue went faster and faster, and her words became sharper and sharper. Lady Ruth's countenance became very strange to look at. She bobbed her head about slowly in a manner that frightened Mr. Fuzzybell, and ceased to make any remark to her partner. Then Mrs. Garded made two direct appeals to Miss Ruff for mercy. But Miss Ruff could not be merciful. Perhaps on each occasion she refrained for a moment, but it was only for a moment; and Mrs. Garded and Mr. Fuzzybell ceased to think of their cards, and looked only at the Lady Ruth; and then of a sudden they both rose from their seats, the colonel, as we have said, rushed across the room, and all the players at all the tables put down their cards and stood up in alarm. Lady Ruth was sitting perfectly still, except that she still bobbed her old head up and down in a strange unearthly manner. She had about ten cards in her hand which she held motionless. Her eyes seemed to be fixed in one continued stare directly on the face of her foe. Her lower jaw had fallen so as to give a monstrous extension to her cadaverous face. There she sat apparently speechless; but still she bobbed her head, and still she held her cards. It was known at Littlebath that she had suffered from paralysis, and Mrs. Garded and Mr. Fuzzybell thinking that she was having or about to have a fit, naturally rushed to her assistance. [. . .] “Do you feel yourself ill, Lady Ruth?” said Miss Todd. But her ladyship answered nothing. It seemed, however, that her ladyship could walk, for with her two supporters she made her way nearly to the door of the room. There she stood, and having succeeded in shaking off Sir Lionel's arm, she turned and faced round upon the company. She continued to bob her head at them all, and then made this little speech, uttering each word very slowly. “I wish she had a glass tongue as well, because then perhaps she'd break it.” And having so revenged herself, she suffered Miss Todd to lead her away into the bedroom. It was clear at least that she had no fit, and the company was thankful. (359-80) <h3>Notes</h3> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> Whist is a card game that was popular throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. It was derived from the older game “Ruff and Honours”, perhaps explaining Miss Ruff’s name. Rubber refers to a scoring system that decides the winner, meaning the best of three—that is, the winner is the first player to win two games. <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[2]</a> One of the major flaws in early ocular prosthesis was that shell design artificial eyes (curved shells of glass or enamel that would rest upon the surface of an atrophied eye) were often ill-fitting, or had sharp edges which restricted their range of movement and caused damage to surrounding tissue. It was rare for eyes to be surgically removed (enucleated) at this time—prior to improvements in anatomical knowledge and surgical procedure enucleation was extremely dangerous—and so shell design eyes were by far the most common forms of ocular prosthesis available. For more on the medical, technological and commercial history of artificial eyes, see Katherine Ott’s“Hard Wear and Soft Tissue: Craft and Commerce in Artificial Eyes” in Katherine Ott, David Serlin and Stephen Mihm’s (eds.) Artificial Parts, Practical Lives: Modern Histories of Prosthetics (New York: New York University Press, 2002), 147-71. <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[3]</a> A sovereign was a £1 coin. 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. 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 Bertrams Description An account of the resource Anthony Trollope's <a href="http://ia600308.us.archive.org/19/items/bertramsnovel01troluoft/bertramsnovel01troluoft.pdf">The Bertrams</a> (1859) is a rare example of a nineteenth-century novel that depicts a one-eyed female character. Whereas male characters that have missing eyes appear frequently elsewhere in nineteenth-century British literature—thinking, for instance, of Mr. Squeers from Charles Dickens’s <a href="http://archive.org/stream/nicholasnickleby00967gut/old/ncklb10.txt">Nicholas Nickleby</a>(1838-39), Mr. Pinto from William Makepeace Thackeray’s short story“<a href="http://archive.org/stream/thelockandkeylib01831gut/lckyl10.txt">The Notch on the Ax: A Story a la Mode</a>” (1862) and M. Laferté from George du Maurier’s <a href="http://archive.org/stream/themartian27400gut/pg27400.txt">The Martian</a>(1897) to name but a few—Trollope’s text includes a character that, despite her sex, aligns with several of the common negative characteristics that were associated with one-eyed men and ocular prosthesis wearers in this period. The minor character, Miss Ruff, who is a regular visitor to Littlebath in Trollope’s tale (the home of well-to-do spinster Miss Todd), is indeed a wearer of an artificial eye and like many of the male characters described elsewhere in Victorian fiction, is portrayed in a far from flattering manner. Despite resisting associating the deformed with criminality in this text, which was often the case in relation to the one-eyed male character, Trollope does, however, depict Miss Ruff as someone who is as ugly in character as she is in appearance. In fact, though to a less extreme extent, like the sinister schoolmaster Mr. Squeers from Dickens’s novel, Miss Ruff is portrayed as somewhat villainous and, considering her excessively aggressive card-play, to some extent violent. Significantly, the tale also reveals the gender-specific social difficulties that faced Victorian one-eyed women. Written at a time when artificial eyes were becoming more user-friendly and increasingly accurate-looking replacements for the human eye, Trollope’s text can, to some extent, be read as a critique of contemporary ocular prostheses due to the very fact that Miss Ruff is a recognisable user of a glass eye: the primary aim of the artificial eye maker was to produce a device that could as accurately as possible mimic the appearance of a real eye, making the wearer’s loss unperceivable thus alleviating unwanted attention and stigma. While significant and well-publicised developments in artificial eye technology were made in the 1840s, 50s and 60s—most notably by French prosthetist Auguste Boissonneau, who pioneered the production of ergonomically designed bespoke enamel artificial eyes—Trollope’s text suggests that ocular prostheses could still easily be distinguished from their natural counterpart. In fact, the very flaws in Miss Ruff’s prosthesis add to her abhorrent demeanour: the “fixed” position of her eye is a physical manifestation of the intensity and harshness that she displays behaviourally in her aggressive card-play. For one-eyed women, ocular prosthesis use has long been associated with aging, abhorrence and spinsterhood. Jonathan’s Swift’s satirical poem “<a href="http://archive.org/stream/thepoemsofjonath14353gut/14353.txt">A Beautiful Young Nymph Going to Bed</a>“ (1731), Louis-Léopold Boilly’s painting “Les epoux assortis” (1825; available to view at <a href="http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/">Wellcome Images</a>) and G.M Woodward’s “Celia Retiring” (1803; see image above) are just three examples that exemplify this point. As it would appear, Trollope reaffirms these connotations with his depiction of Miss Ruff. An unwanted ever-present at the whist table, Miss Ruff’s glass eye can be read as both a reason for and signifier of her old age and spinsterhood. Since such a premium was placed on physical appearance and maternal function, women with deformities, especially those with visible physical disfigurements, often occupied a marginalised position within society. In Miss Ruff’s case, her obvious use of an artificial eye is a visual signifier for her inability to attract a male suitor; it could, in fact, be the very reason why she remains single. Trollope further emphasises her unsuitability for marriage by enamoring her with a number of unattractive traits—sternness, competitiveness, rudeness and aggressiveness—which reaffirm the prejudices against bodily difference which were rife during this period. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Trollope, Anthony. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Trollope, Anthony. The Bertrams. Leipzig: Bernhard Tauchnitz, 1859. Vol. 1. Pages 359-80. Available <a href="http://ia600308.us.archive.org/19/items/bertramsnovel01troluoft/bertramsnovel01troluoft.pdf">online</a> at archive.org. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1859 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Ryan Sweet Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource The colour sketch shows a lady retiring to bed and ordering her maid to look after her artificial aids to beauty (wig, teeth, glass eye etc.), entitled “Celia Retiring” by P. Roberts (after G.M Woodward). Coloured etching, 1807. Courtesy of the <a href="http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/">Wellcome Library, London</a> under Creative Commons License (<a title="Wellcome Library Catalogue" href="http://catalogue.wellcomelibrary.org/record=b1662684" target="_blank">Wellcome Library no. 662684i</a>). Relation A related resource <ul><li>The College of Optometrists, “<a href="http://www.college-optometrists.org/en/knowledge-centre/museyeum/online_exhibitions/artificialeyes/glass.cfm">Glass Eyes</a>”.</li> <li>Davis, Lennard J. “Constructing Normalcy”. The Disability Studies Reader. ed. Lennard J. Davis. 3rd ed. London: Routledge, 2010. 3-19.</li> <li>Holmes, Martha Stoddard. Fictions of Affliction: Physical Disability in Victorian Culture. Ann Arbor: U of Michigan P, 2004.</li> <li>Ott, Katherine. “Hard Wear and Soft Tissue: Craft and Commerce in Artificial Eyes”. Artificial Parts, Practical Lives: Modern Histories of Prosthetics. eds. Katherine Ott, David Serlin and Stephen Mihm. New York: New York UP, 2002. 147-71.</li> <li>Prince, J. H. Ocular Prosthesis. Edinburgh: E. & S. Livingstone, 1946.</li> </ul> Anthony Trollope Gender Literature Novel Prosthesis https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/e395394a0d67c1b013c123fd275dcabf.jpg 4bf7790948a346849fd6971aa32d5980 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 635 Height 800 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 IPTC String caption:by FranÁois Theodore Rochard, watercolour, 1846 caption_writer:National Portrait Gallery London - www.npg.org.uk headline:NPG 4381; Martin Farquhar Tupper by FranÁois Theodore Rochard special_instructions:Unauthorised reproduction prohibited. For authorisation contact rightsandimages@npg.org.uk www.npg.org.uk byline:National Portrait Gallery London - www.npg.org.uk byline_title:Rights and Images Department credit:National Portrait Gallery London source:National Portrait Gallery London object_name:NPG 4381; Martin Farquhar Tupper date_created:02.05.2012 city:London, St Martin's Place, WC2 0HE country:United Kingdom copyright_notice:© National Portrait Gallery, London IPTC Array a:13:{s:7:"caption";s:48:"by FranÁois Theodore Rochard, watercolour, 1846";s:14:"caption_writer";s:49:"National Portrait Gallery London - www.npg.org.uk";s:8:"headline";s:62:"NPG 4381; Martin Farquhar Tupper by FranÁois Theodore Rochard";s:20:"special_instructions";s:105:"Unauthorised reproduction prohibited. For authorisation contact rightsandimages@npg.org.uk www.npg.org.uk";s:6:"byline";s:49:"National Portrait Gallery London - www.npg.org.uk";s:12:"byline_title";s:28:"Rights and Images Department";s:6:"credit";s:32:"National Portrait Gallery London";s:6:"source";s:32:"National Portrait Gallery London";s:11:"object_name";s:32:"NPG 4381; Martin Farquhar Tupper";s:12:"date_created";s:10:"02.05.2012";s:4:"city";s:34:"London, St Martin's Place, WC2 0HE";s:7:"country";s:14:"United Kingdom";s:16:"copyright_notice";s:36:"© National Portrait Gallery, London";} 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 watercolour, in an ornate frame, shows a dapper Martin Tupper leaning against a wall, hat in hand. Martin Farquhar Tupper by François Theodore Rochard. Watercolour, 1846. 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 1837 to 1860 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. Ah! think it not a light calamity To be denied free converse with my kind, To be debarred from man’s true attribute, The proper glorious privilege of Speech. Hast ever seen an eagle chain’d to earth? A restless panther in his cage immured? A swift trout by the wily fisher checked? A wild bird hopeless strain its broken wing? Hast ever felt, at the dark dead of night, Some undefined and horrid incubus Press down the very soul, — and paralyse The limbs in their imaginary flight From shadowy terrors in unhallowed sleep? Hast ever known the sudden icy chill Of dreary disappointment, as it dashes The sweet cup of anticipated bliss From the parched lips of long-enduring hope? Then thou canst picture, — aye, in sober truth, In real, unexaggerated truth, — The constant, galling, festering chain that binds Captive my mute interpreter of thought; The seal of lead enstamp’d upon my lips, The load of iron on my labouring chest, The mocking demon that at every step Haunts me, — and spurs me on—to burst with silence! Oh! tis a sore affliction to restrain, From mere necessity, the glowing thought; To feel the fluent cataract of speech Check’d by some wintry spell, and frozen up, Just as it leapeth from the precipice! To be the butt of wordy captious fools, And see the sneering self-complacent smile Of victory on their lips, when I might prove, (But for some little word I dare not utter,) That innate truth is not a specious lie: To hear foul slander blast an honour’d name, Yet breathe no fact to drive the fiend away: To mark neglected virtue in the dust, Yet have no word to pity or console: To feel just indignation swell my breast, Yet know the fountain of my wrath is sealed: To see my fellow-mortals hurrying on Down the steep cliff of crime, down to perdition, Yet have no voice to warn, — no voice to win! ‘Tis to be mortified in every point, Baffled at every turn of life, for want Of that most common privilege of man, The merest drag of gorged society, Words, — windy words. And is it not in truth, A poison’d sting in every social joy, A thorn that rankles in the writhing flesh, A drop of gall in each domestic sweet, An irritating petty misery, That I can never look on one I love, And speak the fullness of my burning thoughts? That I can never with unmingled joy Meet a long-loved and long-expected friend, Because I feel, but cannot vent my feelings, — Because I know I ought,—but must not speak, Because I mark his quick impatient eye Striving in kindness to anticipate The word of welcome, strangled in its birth! Is it not sorrow, while I truly love Sweet social converse, to be forced to shun The happy circle, from a nervous sense, An agonizing poignant consciousness That I must stand aloof, nor mingle with The wise and good, in rational argument, The young in brilliant quickness of reply, Friendship's ingenuous interchange of mind, Affection’s open-hearted sympathies, But feel myself an isolated being, A very wilderness of widow’d thought! Aye, ‘tis a bitter thing, — and not less bitter Because it is not reckoned in the ills, “The thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to;” Yet the full ocean is but countless drops, And misery is an aggregate of tears, And life, replete with small annoyances, Is but one long protracted scene of sorrow. I scarce would wonder, if a godless man, (I name not him whose hope is heavenward,) A man, whom lying vanities hath scath’d And harden’d from all fear, — if such an one By this tyrannical Argus goaded on Were to be wearied of his very life, And daily, hourly foiled in social converse, By the slow simmering of disappointment Become a sour’d and apathetic being, Were to feel rapture at the approach of death, And long for his dark hope, — annihilation. 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 Stammerer's Complaint Description An account of the resource Most celebrated, and often ridiculed, in the Victorian era for his Proverbial Philosophy, <a title="Martin Tupper Wikipedia Entry" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_Farquhar_Tupper" target="_blank">Martin Farquhar Tupper</a> (1810-1889) was one of the most popular poets of the nineteenth century. His poem “The Stammerer’s Complaint” (1838) is one of the nineteenth century’s most provocative first-hand accounts of the mysterious condition of stuttering. A life-long stutterer, Tupper introduces a poetics of the stutterer’s melancholic disposition. The poem appeared in an era that had increasingly turned its attention to the causes and cures of a condition that still confounds doctors, therapists, and researchers today. “The Stammerer’s Complaint” reflects the sense that medical and elocutionary experts of the period had of the melancholia of the person who stutters. Composed of precise iambic pentameter lines, Tupper’s poem is essentially a fantasy of fluent speech from the lyric voice of a poet who laments being excluded from even the most basic privileges of communication granted to fluent speakers. The fantasy reaches a climax as Tupper’s speaker (presumably Tupper himself) imagines the self-annihilation that would result when “wordy captious fools” (l. 31), now become “godless” (l. 82), were to be forced to feel the misery, isolation, and loneliness that is the stammerer’s lot in life. Throughout the nineteenth century, representations of stuttering were fraught with stereotypes, misconceptions, and jokes at the expense of people who stutter. Even those, such as Wright in his The Stutterer's Friend (1843), who promoted the rights of people who stutter against the promotion of dangerous surgical “cures” in the early 1840s, admitted that stuttering is a woefully debilitating disorder that completely bars people who stutter from even the most tolerant and inclusive of conversations. Tupper’s poem demonstrates the longing for fluent speech that was rampant throughout the nineteenth century, a period that promoted a seemingly endless number of systems of cure for disfluent speech, many of which resulted in a further spiraling of melancholia for people who stutter as they sought the privileges of “normal” speech. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Tupper, Martin Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Tupper, Martin. “The Stammerer’s Complaint.” Geraldine, A Sequel to Coleridge’s Christabel: with Other Poems (London: Rickerby, 1838). 119-23. Print. The poem can also be accessed here: <a href="http://archive.org/stream/geraldineaseque01colegoog#page/n5/mode/2up">http://archive.org/stream/geraldineaseque01colegoog#page/n5/mode/2up</a> Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Rickerby Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1838 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Daniel Martin Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource This watercolour, in an ornate frame, shows a dapper Martin Tupper leaning against a wall, hat in hand. <a href="http://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw06416/Martin-Farquhar-Tupper?">Martin Farquhar Tupper</a> by François Theodore Rochard. Watercolour, 1846. NPG 4381. Courtesy <a title="National Portrait Gallery Link" href="http://www.npg.org.uk/" target="_blank">National Portrait Gallery</a> under a Creative Commons License (<a title="National Portrait Gallery" href="http://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw06416/Martin-Farquhar-Tupper?LinkID=mp04561&search=sas&sText=martin+tupper&role=sit&rNo=0" target="_blank">NPG 4381</a>). Relation A related resource <ul><li>Rockey, Denyse. Speech Disorder in Nineteenth Century Britain: The History of Stuttering. London: Croom Helm, 1980. Print.</li> <li>Shell, Marc. Stutter. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2005. Print.</li> <li>Wingate, Marcel E. Stuttering: A Short History of a Curious Disorder. Westport: Bergin & Garvey, 1997. Print. </li> </ul> Language A language of the resource English Audio Culture Literature Martin Tupper Non-Standard Language Poetry https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/f940507ad6ffc60de21b570554471496.jpg 0db5bb1781b1c60678f52b1fe8a25724 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 758 Height 487 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 IPTC String copyright_notice:Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html byline:Wellcome Images object_name:L0035591 A Victorian ear trumpet headline:L0035591 A Victorian ear trumpet caption:L0035591 A Victorian ear trumpet Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A Victorian ear trumpet swathed in black silk and lace mouning Photograph 19th century Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html IPTC Array a:5:{s:16:"copyright_notice";s:123:"Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";s:6:"byline";s:15:"Wellcome Images";s:11:"object_name";s:32:"L0035591 A Victorian ear trumpet";s:8:"headline";s:32:"L0035591 A Victorian ear trumpet";s:7:"caption";s:360:"L0035591 A Victorian ear trumpet Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A Victorian ear trumpet swathed in black silk and lace mouning Photograph 19th century Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";} 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 Photograph of a Victorian hearing trumpet swathed in black fabric and lace.  https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/5c639dbba52e3fb9a04970fe57b20840.jpg 25c09d6a80556aadcfcd52b79326b57d 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. 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Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A Victorian ear trumpet swathed in black silk and lace mouning Photograph 19th century Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html IPTC Array a:5:{s:16:"copyright_notice";s:123:"Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";s:6:"byline";s:15:"Wellcome Images";s:11:"object_name";s:32:"L0035592 A Victorian ear trumpet";s:8:"headline";s:32:"L0035592 A Victorian ear trumpet";s:7:"caption";s:360:"L0035592 A Victorian ear trumpet Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A Victorian ear trumpet swathed in black silk and lace mouning Photograph 19th century Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";} 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 photograph of an ear trumpet swathed in black and lace is taken from the front of the device, showing the trumpet, whose copious fabric makes it look like a black pom-pom. 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 1837 to 1860 Description An account of the resource 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 Ear Trumpet in Mourning Description An account of the resource The ear trumpet is among the earliest hearing aid devices designed to bring sound more effectively to the ear, dating to as early as 1800 when manufacturer Frederick Charles Rein opened shop in London (later becoming F.C. Rein & Son). They came in various designs from long trumpets 16” to 19” inches in length, to collapsible trumpets that could be placed in an individual’s pocket, banjo-styles, or bell/dome types that were popular for their ability to resonate sound effectively—the greater an individual’s hearing loss, the larger the instrument was recommended for use. These hearing trumpets, however, were very conspicuous devices and drew attention to an individual’s hearing loss. In the nineteenth century, a design trend towards hearing instruments favouring concealment became popular; large devices were redesigned to be worn on the person, as part of their attire, or masked as <a title="Ear Trumpet as Furniture" href="http://beckerexhibits.wustl.edu/did/19thcent/index.htm" target="_blank">furniture</a>. As hearing trumpets and devices became aesthetically appealing and socially acceptable, more individuals were making use of them to improve their hearing losses. This particular nineteenth-century hearing trumpet is a unique one, designed for use during a woman’s mourning period, to blend in with her clothes, as evident by the black fabric, lace, ribbon, and earpiece wrapping the device. It was likely constructed by one of the popular hearing aid instrument makers in London—F.C. Rein & Son, or T.Hawksley, Ltd., on Oxford Street, which was established in 1869 (later Hawksley & Sons). This hearing trumpet was part of the elaborate accoutrements of Victorian mourning inspired in part by Queen Victoria’s 40-year mourning period following the death of King Albert in 1861. Lavish funerals, formal garments, black-bordered stationery, were all part of the complicated and dignified mourning period, clearly an aspect for the wealthier parts of society, though in some cases these mourning rituals may served as sources of financial anxiety and commercial exploitations (Clewell 2004). The mourning period also invoked a strict and fashionable dress code which was applied rigorously to widows, who were required to wear full black mourning for at least <a title="Victorian mourning conventions" href="https://www.msu.edu/user/beltranm/mourning/mourning.htm" target="_blank">two years</a>. Extravagance and social emulation were part of the mourning rituals for the middle-classes and were reflected in fashion magazines such as Queen or Gentlewoman that outlined dictations for refinements and mourning and even updated mourning outfits according the latest season’s fashions (Jalland 1996:301). Advice manuals such as Manners and Rules of Good Society, or Solecisms to be Avoided (London: Frederick Warne & Co., 1887) also provided clear instructions for devotion to the mourning period. It was believed that mourning clothes, fashion, furniture, or even ear trumpets were the grieving family’s way of displaying their inner feelings over the loss of a loved one. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Uknown Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Jaipreet Viridi Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Photograph of a Victorian hearing trumpet swathed in black fabric and lace. Image courtesy <a title="Wellcome Images" href="http://wellcomeimages.org/" target="_blank">Wellcome Library, London</a> under a Creative Commons License (<a title="wellcome images" href="http://wellcomeimages.org/" target="_blank">Museum No. A129677</a> and <a title="Wellcome Images" href="Museum%20No%20A129677" target="_blank">Museum No A129677</a>). Relation A related resource <ul><li>Science Museum “Brought to Life” exhibit: Ear Trumpet c.1850-1910. <a href="http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/broughttolife/objects/display.aspx?id=92089">http://www.sciencemuseum.org.uk/broughttolife/objects/display.aspx?id=92089</a></li> <li>Bernard Becker Library Virtual Exhibit: Deafness in Disguise: Concealed Hearing Devices of the 19th and 20th Centuries <a href="http://beckerexhibits.wustl.edu/did/index.htm">http://beckerexhibits.wustl.edu/did/index.htm</a></li> <li>Tammy Clewell, “Consolation Refused: Virginia Woolf, The Great War, and Modernist Mourning,” Modern Fiction Studies 50.1 (2004): 197-223.</li> <li>Jalland, Pat. Death in the Victorian Family. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996.</li> <li>Rothman, Heather, “Mourning in the Victorian Era.” Web. May 2013. <a href="http://www.clas.ufl.edu/users/agunn/teaching/enl3251/vf/pres/rothman.htm">http://www.clas.ufl.edu/users/agunn/teaching/enl3251/vf/pres/rothman.htm</a></li> <li>Berger, Kenneth W. The Hearing Aid, it’s Operation and Development. Michigan, USA: National Hearing Aid Society, 1970.</li> </ul> Deafness Material Culture Prosthesis Technology https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/05341f421fe19fce0759b212b25cedb8.jpg d661a8d1e8421737a609e999fcef30e3 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 601 Height 516 Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 IPTC String copyright_notice:Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html byline:Wellcome Images object_name:L0036586 A selection of glass eyes from an opticians glas eye ca headline:L0036586 A selection of glass eyes from an opticians glas eye case. caption:L0036586 A selection of glass eyes from an opticians glas eye case. Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A selection of glass eyes from an opticians glas eye case. Possibly made by E. Muller of Liverpool. Photograph c. 1900 Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html IPTC Array a:5:{s:16:"copyright_notice";s:123:"Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";s:6:"byline";s:15:"Wellcome Images";s:11:"object_name";s:64:"L0036586 A selection of glass eyes from an opticians glas eye ca";s:8:"headline";s:67:"L0036586 A selection of glass eyes from an opticians glas eye case.";s:7:"caption";s:427:"L0036586 A selection of glass eyes from an opticians glas eye case. Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://images.wellcome.ac.uk A selection of glass eyes from an opticians glas eye case. Possibly made by E. Muller of Liverpool. Photograph c. 1900 Published: - Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons by-nc 2.0 UK, see http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/indexplus/page/Prices.html";} 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 photograph of a glass eye from an optician’s case—possibly made by E. Muller of Liverpool. c. 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 1902 to 1914 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. Many weeks after, amidst the charred ruins of the Experimental Farm, there was found something which may or may not have been a human shoulder-blade and in another part of the ruins a long bone greatly gnawed and equally doubtful. Near the stile going up towards Eyebright there was found a glass eye, and many people discovered thereupon that Skinner owed much of his personal charm to such a possession. It stared out upon the world with that same inevitable effect of detachment, that same severe melancholy that had been the redemption of his else worldly countenance. [. . .] The glass eye of course has an air of extreme conviction, but If It really is Skinner's—and even Mrs. Skinner did not certainly know if that immobile eye of his was glass—something has changed it from a liquid brown to a serene and confident blue. That shoulder-blade is an extremely doubtful document, and I would like to put it side by side with the gnawed scapulae<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a>of a few of the commoner domestic animals before I admitted its humanity. <div> </div> <h3>Note</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref">[1]</a> Scapulae is an anatomical term that refers to the shoulder blade. </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 Food of the Gods and How it Came to Earth Description An account of the resource Published in 1904, H. G. Wells’s novel <a href="http://archive.org/details/foodofgodshowitc00well">The Food of the Gods and How it Came to Earth</a> is a tale that depicts ocular prosthesis at its most effective: the minor character Mr. Skinner is only revealed as an artificial eye user after his death, where the only remains of him found are a glass eye and a severed shoulder blade, thus paying testimony to the increasingly life-like nature of contemporary ocular prostheses. Mr.Skinner’s use of such a device is in fact so convincing a replacement that even his wife is said to be unsure of whether he wore an artificial eye. Furthermore, the narrator even suggests that the device enhanced, rather than detracted from, Mr. Skinner’s personal appearance prior to his death, providing a contrast with earlier depictions of ocular prosthesis from nineteenth-century literature, which, in many cases, described artificial eye wearers as having an abhorrent look (see Miss Ruff from Anthony Trollope’s 1859 novel <a href="http://ia600308.us.archive.org/19/items/bertramsnovel01troluoft/bertramsnovel01troluoft.pdf">The Bertrams</a>, Mr. Pinto from William Makepeace Thackeray’s 1862 short story“<a href="http://archive.org/stream/thelockandkeylib01831gut/lckyl10.txt">The Notch on the Ax: A Story a la Mode</a>” and M. Laferté from George du Maurier’s 1897 novel <a href="http://archive.org/stream/themartian27400gut/pg27400.txt">The Martian</a>). Written following a number of significant improvements made in both the prosthetic devices that were available to the one-eyed and the surgical procedures that prepared the ocular cavity for the introduction of an artificial device, Wells’s text showcases an artificial eye which successfully negates the unwanted attention and stigma so often attached to earlier prosthesis users. Many technological and medical developments facilitated this ability in real life, including Amédée Bonnet’s re-description of the tenon’s capsule in 1841, which paved the way for surgeon’s to more safely remove eyeballs using a procedure called enucleation; the influence of French ocularist Auguste Boissonneau’s personalised and anatomically-accurate approach to prosthesis making; the development of new lighter and more durable glass compounds by German ocularists in the 1870s; and the Müller brothers’ invention of the “Snellen” or “reform eye” in the 1890s, which provided enucleated patients with a prosthetic device that could both fill the empty socket left following enucleation and enable a full range of natural movement. Through his portrayal of a device which utterly evades attention until it is detached from the socket of its user, Wells presents ocular prosthesis as a technology that (thanks to its development in the nineteenth century) could successfully hide the one-eyed user in early-Edwardian society. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Wells, H. G. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wells, H. G. The Food of The Gods and How it Came to Earth. 1904. rpt. London: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1909. Pages 50-1. Full text available <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/foodofgodshowitc00well">online</a> at archive.org. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1904 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Ryan Sweet Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource A photograph of a glass eye from an optician’s case—possibly made by E. Muller of Liverpool. c. 1900. Courtesy of the <a href="http://images.wellcome.ac.uk/">Wellcome Library, London</a> under a Creative Commons License (<a title="Wellcome Images" href="http://wellcomeimages.org/" target="_blank">Museum No A660037</a>). Relation A related resource <ul><li>The College of Optometrists, “<a href="http://www.college-optometrists.org/en/knowledge-centre/museyeum/online_exhibitions/artificialeyes/glass.cfm">Glass Eyes</a>”.</li> <li>Ott, Katherine. “Hard Wear and Soft Tissue: Craft and Commerce in Artificial Eyes”. Artificial Parts, Practical Lives: Modern Histories of Prosthetics. eds. Katherine Ott, David Serlin and Stephen Mihm. New York: New York UP, 2002. 147-71.</li> <li>Prince, J. H. Ocular Prosthesis. Edinburgh: E. & S. Livingstone, 1946.</li> </ul> H. G. Wells Literature Novel Prosthesis Science Fiction https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/8feb11aaa8db3e33f951103a2866dd4f.jpg eefbd851a6108f0e3ee99a1a5fa9956c https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/5f4b15379d7b2f4e0a15698d4c3f6d60.jpg 8a2f9681b2567e1939775052a4f19d7e https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/9c991a1aa4e81e3680aa33c96fb8fc9f.jpg fcf0c15054c402295fcba950a9f86f7d 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 1880 to 1901 Description An account of the resource Still Image A static visual representation. Examples of still images are: paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type "text" to images of textual materials. 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 In 1890, a 36” x 24” painting depicting Queen Victoria communicating with a deaf woman in front of a cozy hearth, was exhibited at the Edinburgh Exhibition. Titled “Royal Condescension,” this was the second of a series painted by the amateur painter William Agnew (1846-1941); each shows the Queen in various stages of conversation with a woman, but with minor differences: the 1883 version has a dog on the hearth and was shown at the Chicago World’s Fair; the 1889 version has a baby and won an award at the Edinburgh Exhibition; and the 1900 focuses only on the Queen and the woman. <a href="http://blogs.ucl.ac.uk/library-rnid/2011/12/20/deaf-artist-william-agnew/">Agnew painted</a> only two other works, “True Nobility” (1897) and “Post Office, Whippingham, I.O.W.” There is little evidence that any of these paintings survive. Born deaf and mute, Agnew received his education at an institution for the deaf in Glasgow, where he learned sign-language and fingerspelling. After leaving school, he was employed in various occupations, including as a bookbinder, printer, and writer. As a writer, he penned several articles advocating sign language in deaf schools, and condemning the implementation of oralism (educating the deaf through articulation and speech) in British schools. It was during this period that fierce debates were ranging amongst educators over the best pedagogical means for instructing deaf-mutes and on the value of sign-language for “normalizing” the deaf. In 1880, educators gathered at the International Congress on Education of the Deaf voted to ban sign language in the classroom and replace it with oral education. Although little is known about Agnew, he certainly saw oralism as a threat to his own identity and culture. He was recruited to fundraise for the building of a new Institute for Deaf and Dumb Adults in Glasgow and West Scotland that would rely on instruction through sign language. Upon exhibiting his 1889 “Royal Condescension” painting to Queen Victoria, Agnew received a generous contribution from the Queen (£50). Funds from an 1891 grand bazaar raised enough to purchase a site for the new building and Agnew was made Director of the Institution. Agnew’s “Royal Condescension” paintings are a testament to his campaigns on the importance of sign language. Queen Victoria was familiar with fingerspelling, having learned as her daughter-in-law Princess Alexandra’s hearing worsened over the years until she became deaf. According to Jennifer Esmail, Agnew’s paintings “not only depicts a unique conversation between a monarch known for her fingerspelling fluency, and one of her poor and ill subjects but also allows us a rare glimpse into the visual language of deaf Victorians” (1). The Queen spook the language of the deaf, refusing, as some accounts noted, to bring a translator. This was tremendously supportive to the manualist campaigns against oral education, for if the monarch spoke the language, why should it be an issue in the classroom? Even the woman in the painting, Mrs. Elizabeth Tuffield (neé Bective Groves, 1840-1874), gives us some insight into the lives of the Victorian deaf. The daughter of a schoolmaster on the Isle of Wright, Tuffield attended the <a href="http://jaivirdi.com/2010/06/14/the-london-asylum-for-the-deaf-and-dumb/">London Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb on Old Kent Road</a> (est.1792), one of the first schools in England for the deaf. She eventually married a bootmaker, Samuel (b.1840) in 1870, but she left him; sources indicate Samuel was abusive. The historical significance of Agnew’s “Royal Condescension” paintings is also revealed in how they were reproduced and distributed. Tracts and pamphlets were popular tools in the nineteenth century to propagate powerful visual images, especially to draw attention to a cause. They raised awareness for political or social issues, asked for contributions to fundraising campaigns, and/or merely disseminated information. As many educational asylums for the deaf in the nineteenth-century relied on donations and subscriptions, small pamphlets were often printed for fundraising, even consisting illustrations of sign language—as both information and novelty. <a href="http://blogs.ucl.ac.uk/library-rnid/2013/08/02/sign-alphabet-exhibition-royalty-and-the-deaf/">Harry Ash</a> (1863-1934) was a deaf draughtsman and designer of wallpaper who, like Tuffield, received his education from the London Asylum. In the late 1890s, he published some pamphlets on sign language, some of which were advertised in the publications of the British Deaf and Dumb Association and the British Deaf Times. In one pamphlet Ash copied Agnew’s “Royal Condescension” painting on the cover, and included the fingerspelling alphabet in the contents. Ash’s pamphlets were partly a response to his experiences at the London Asylum, where in the middle of his education, the <a href="http://blogs.ucl.ac.uk/library-rnid/2013/08/02/sign-alphabet-exhibition-royalty-and-the-deaf/">system of instruction changed</a> from sign language to the oral method, hindering his progress in learning English. Sign language was necessary and something that every Briton should learn. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wellcome Library, UCL Ear Institute & Action on Hearing Loss Libraries Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1800-1900 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Jaipreet Virdi-Dhesi Relation A related resource <ul><li>Beaver, Patrick. A Tower of Strength: Two Hundred Years of the Royal School for Deaf Children Margate. Sussex, England: The Book Guild, Ltd., 1992.</li> <li>Edwards, R.A.R. Words Made Flesh: Nineteenth-Century Deaf Education and the Growth of Deaf Culture. New York & London: New York University Press, 2012.</li> <li>Esmail, Jennifer. Reading Victorian Deafness: Signs and Sounds in Victorian Literature and Culture. Ohio: Ohio University Press, 2013.</li> <li>Jackson, Peter W. Britain’s Deaf Heritage. Edinburgh: The Pentand Press, Ltd., 1990.</li> </ul> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource (1) Postcard reprint of William Agnew’s 1889 “Royal Condescension” painting. Courtesy of UCL Ear Institute & Action on Hearing Loss Libraries. (2) Postcard reprint of William Agnew’s 1900 “Royal Condescension” painting. Courtesy of UCL Ear Institute & Action on Hearing Loss Libraries. (3) “Royal Condescension” process print by Harry Ash after William Agnew, c.1890-1900. Courtesy of Wellcome Images under a Creative Commons License. Title A name given to the resource Royal Condescension Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource William Agnew Deafness Painting Visual Culture https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/a6d43f5d554ca48472cae24eb3fc92d4.jpg 926b918b57de36a75699bafc4126e030 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 Miniature Self-Portrait by William Dunlap, in the high collar and blue jacket of the period. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/self-portrait-87 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1805 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Kim Beil Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Image Courtesy Yale University Art Gallery and the Metropolitan Museum of Art under a Creative Commons License. https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/899b3dbcccaccd392d2f7e715fc8480a.jpg ddfd2ed84f2c39b75637ed513b2ca61a 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 Self-Portrait by William Dunlap, watercolour on ivory shows the damage to the artist's right eye. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/self-portrait-17 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1812 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Image Courtesy Yale University Art Gallery and the Metropolitan Museum of Art under a Creative Commons License. https://nineteenthcenturydisability.org/files/original/49c33af7be39f0f6b9daf97dcc46027a.jpg 0dd1638b9a8bbc5051fa218cc01c10c0 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/. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived http://metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/17804?=&imgNo=0&tabName=object-information Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1825 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Image Courtesy Yale University Art Gallery and the Metropolitan Museum of Art under a Creative Commons License. Description An account of the resource Self-Portrait of William Dunlop. 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 1798 to 1837 Description An account of the resource 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 In these self-portrait miniatures the American painter William Dunlap (1766-1839) depicts the visible sign of his disability: permanent blindness of the right eye resulting from a childhood accident. Dunlap turned his damaged eye away from the viewer in each of these self-portraits, showing at least partial deference to prevailing conventions of portraiture. In one popular treatise on painting available in English translation,<a title="" href="#_ftn1">[1]</a> the Dutch classicist painter, Gérard de Lairesse (1641-1711) (who was himself blind due to congenital syphilis), admonished portrait painters who aimed to <blockquote>express punctually the deformities and defects of a face, without scruple; to wit, a blind or defective eye, or the like, though they know what an enemy it is to grace, and on no other ground than a false belief that it creates a greater likeness. But who loves to be reproached with his defects, when they can be artfully hidden?<a title="" href="#_ftn2">[2]</a></blockquote> While Dunlap repeatedly posed in a three-quarters view that favored the penetrating gaze of his left eye capped by a slightly arched brow, he also included the milky white of his damaged eye in at least two of these self-portraits. The injury was paradoxically the event that set Dunlap on the course to a career in the arts. Following his accident, Dunlap ceased formal schooling and concentrated instead on reading books and copying prints from his family’s library. It was on the strength of these copies, and his later pastel portraits of his family, acquaintances, and even General George Washington (United States Senate, 1783), that Dunlap’s father sent him to complete his artistic education in London under the premiere American expatriate artist, Benjamin West (1738-1820). Dunlap’s recurrent inclusion of his disability in his self-portraits perhaps signifies his recognition of its formative impact on his life, inspiring him to act in defiance of the prevailing expectation that such “deformities” be “artfully hidden” in portraiture. <div> <h3>Note</h3> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref1">[1]</a> For discussion of the impact of this text on Colonial American painters, see: Wayne Craven, “Colonial American Portraiture: Iconography and Methodology,” in The Portrait in Eighteenth-Century America, ed. Ellen Gross Miles (Newark; London: University of Delaware Press ; Associated University Presses, 1993), 113. </div> <div> <a title="" href="#_ftnref2">[2]</a> Gérard de Lairesse, A Treatise on the Art of Painting, in All Its Branches, trans. William Marshall Craig (London: E. Orme, 1817), 6. </div> </div> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Dunlap, William. Self-Portrait, ca. 1812, watercolor on ivory, 3 x 2 ½”, Yale University Art Gallery <a href="http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/self-portrait-87">http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/self-portrait-17</a> Dunlap, William. Self-Portrait, ca. 1805, watercolor on ivory, 2/ ½ x 1 7/8”, Yale University Art Gallery <a href="http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/self-portrait-87">http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/self-portrait-87</a> Dunlap, William. Self-Portrait, ca. 1825, watercolor on ivory, 3 x 2”, Metropolitan Museum of Art, <a href="http://metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/17804">http://metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/17804</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1805, 1812, 1825 Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Kim Beil Relation A related resource <ul><li> Craven, Wayne. “Colonial American Portraiture: Iconography and Methodology.” In The Portrait in Eighteenth-Century America, edited by Ellen Gross Miles. Newark; London: University of Delaware Press ; Associated University Presses, 1993. </li> <li> Dunlap, William. History of the Rise and Progress of the Arts of Design in the United States: Volume 1. 2 vols. New York: George P. Scott and Company, Printers, 1834. https://archive.org/details/historyofrisepro01dunl </li> <li> Lairesse, Gérard de. A Treatise on the Art of Painting, in All Its Branches. Translated by William Marshall Craig. London: E. Orme, 1817. <a href="https://archive.org/details/treatiseonartofp02lair">https://archive.org/details/treatiseonartofp02lair</a> </li> <li> Lyons, Maura. William Dunlap and the Construction of an American Art History. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2005. </li> </ul> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource William Dunlap Type The nature or genre of the resource Still Image Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Miniature self-portraits by American artist William Dunlap (c. <a href="http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/self-portrait-87">1805</a>, c. <a href="http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/self-portrait-17">1812</a>, c. <a href="http://metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/17804">1825</a>). Watercolour on ivory. Images Courtesy Yale University Art Gallery and the Metropolitan Museum of Art under a Creative Commons License. Title A name given to the resource Self-Portrait William Dunlap Blindness Visual Culture William Dunlap