From the Kansas City Times (Kansas City, Missouri), dated July 23, 1887:
Miss Laura Bridgman
The Evolution of A Mute of World-Wide Renown
How a Body May Get On with Only One of the Five Senses – The Accomplishments of Miss Bridgman, Now an Old Lady
It is just half a century since the popular heart of the country first went out in pity toward one who has ever since been regarded as the most afflicted of human kind, says a Boston correspondent of the New York Sun. Almost every middle-aged man and woman in New England remembers the story of Laura Bridgman, the blind deaf mute, whose fate has made a more standard example of patience and submission in Yankee homes and schools that the more ancient record of Job and his sores. Perhaps no better demonstration could be found of the fact that happiness is a matter merely of relative, and not of absolute conditions, than in the history of peace and content than has followed and still follows the life of Laura Bridgman. Certainly her sisters in this community would rank as happiest among women did they possess in the same degree her calm serenity and unselfish devotion. Possessing but one unimpaired faculty, that of touch, Miss Bridgman has become a cultivated woman, fairly well acquainted with the world and its life, as far as it is in the power of language without physical demonstration to convey ideas. It is a constant marvel to those around her that she understands and appreciates so much, and that she is able to make such wonderful use of the single sense that is left her. Miss Bridgman is now a woman of 57 years, and she still makes her home for the greater part of each year at the Perkins institution for the blind, where she received, fifty years ago, instruction in the use of language from the late Dr. Howe. In form and feature she is not unlike many women of her age, except that a rare delicacy of organization, both mental and physical, impresses everyone who meets her. Although not robust, she is seldom ill, and her health is probably as good as that of most ladies of her age. She dresses plainly, and her appearance in this respect is best described as old-fashioned.
The question always asked first by anyone who has not heard the story of Laura Bridgman’s life is: “How was the first idea of words and language conveyed to her mind?” Miss Bridgman’s infirmities date from the second year of her childhood. A severe attack of scarlet fever destroyed the four senses of sight, hearing, taste and smell. Her sickness continued for fully six months, and it completely wiped out all memory of her early infancy. Aside from this circumstance in her case, it is said to be a fact by competent investigators that no case is known of a person who can trace anything in memory back of the second year of infancy. So in Laura’s case there never has been the faintest recollection of the use of the two chief senses which she lost. In much that she says and writes, she often refers to the beauties of light and sound, especially of the former, but she has no adequate conception of either. How can she have? How can it be possible to convey in words even a vague impression of the beauties of a landscape to a mind which cannot do more than dimly wonder what the great principle of light may be? Or how can any idea of a grand harmony be brought to one whose conception of sound must be gained by the trembling of the floor under a friend’s footstep, or the concussion of air following a cannon shot. A great deal of patience was required to teach Laura the rudiments of word signs. It was accomplished by attaching to every article in common use its name in raised letters. Having mastered that idea, she readily learned the deaf-and-dumb finger alphabet signs for the same objects and thereafter her progress was remarkably rapid.
Most blind people are passionately fond of reading, and the occupants of the Perkins institution have a large raised letter library. Miss Bridgman cares very little for reading. She much prefers that someone should read to her by hand signs from newspapers and religious books. She is extremely sociable and earnestly keeps up a silent conversation whenever opportunity affords. Her daily routine is a quiet one. She lives in one of the four cottages on the grounds of the institution in South Boston. She has the sole care of her room, which is a model of neatness. She is very skillful with the needle in ordinary and fancy sewing. Many a sharp-eyed seamstress would envy the speed with which she threads her needle even it be a fine one. She does it by placing the head of the thread and the head of the needle in her mouth, and in an instant the threading is accomplished by the end of her tongue. Thread lace, very delicate, she knits rapidly, and in the course of a year makes a great deal of it. She is also a faithful correspondent, unless she be overwhelmed by letters from people whose sole object is curiosity or to obtain an autograph. Her writing is stiff and angular, like that of most blind people, but it is remarkable distinct.
A simple guiding device for the pencil is used by her and most blind writers. Beneath the paper on which she writes is placed a sheet of pasteboard covered with slight depressions, each about an eighth of an inch square (the size of the body of a small letter) three-eighths of an inch apart, and arranged in horizontal lines to correspond with the lines of manuscript. The body of a letter is made over each depression, and it extends above or below with such letters as it is necessary.
One of Miss Bridgman’s daily duties during the school year is to assist in the instruction of one of the kindergarten classes of blind children. They all learn the hand alphabet and her work among them is a delight both to her and her pupils.
Scientifically considered, Miss Bridgman’s case presents many interesting features bearing upon the degree of skill which the training of a single faculty will develop. The senses of smell and taste have in some degree returned to her. She can detect pungent odors and knows the difference by taste between articles of food which are dissimilar, but neither sense is a source of pleasure or much profit to her. The destruction of hearing and sight was so complete that the eardrums and the eyeballs are gone, the latter removed by operation to stop pain and inflammation. The sense of touch which remains to her has reached a much higher degree of cultivation and perceptive power than was ever attained in another human being. By sense of touch alone, which interrupts the waves of air upon her face, she can tell in walking on the street whether buildings abut closely upon the sidewalk or there is an open space intervening. More wonderful still, she can perceive in the same way – and other inmates of the Perkins institute have the same power – whether a fence lining the walk is made of pickets or is of solid boards. Mr. Anagnos, the director of the institute, says that Laura and two or three others of the blind inmates are able to perceive accurately, by means of reflected heat or air waves, whether a building they may be passing is of brick or wood. Some time ago, several scientists, one or two Harvard professors among them, made an interesting test of Miss Bridgman’s delicacy of touch. They undertook to measure the distance at which she was able to detect the separation of two points. Take, for instance, two pins, and hold them together with points side by side. Touch the points with the finger tips and you will be able to feel but one point. Gradually separate the pins and note the distance at which you can distinguish two points instead of one. You will find it varies from an eighth to a sixteenth of an inch. Two very fine needles were used in the experiments with Miss Bridgman, and the distance at which she could distinguish the separated points was infinitesimal. With most people the tip of the tongue is even more sensitive in touch than the fingers. In Miss Bridgman’s case, this rule does not hold good. A rare treat for Miss Bridgman about a month ago was a visit to the Waltham watch factory. There she found delicacy of workmanship which her exquisite sense of touch could appreciate and take delight in. She became wonderfully enthusiastic over what was shown her, and when a watch movement was presented to her, she was quite overjoyed. Much of her spare time since then has been spent in carefully putting together and separating the delicate mechanism of wheels and springs.
Dr. Howe’s greatest aim in the training of Laura Bridgman he failed to accomplish, and it was one of the greatest disappointments of his life that he was thwarted in his plans. When he undertook her education it was under the strict condition that she should be solely in his charge, and that nothing was to be taught her or said to her on any new subject without his permission. He believed he could solve through her one of the great problems of the human race. He took her at the age of 7, possessing intelligence but no knowledge. Her mind was an absolute blank respecting any of the world’s theories of morals or religion. His plan was to teach her first the physical things of life, but to carefully abstain from giving to her mind any religious idea or impression until she came to mature years. Then he believed he could ascertain through her whether or not there is in the human mind any innate religious instinct, and if so, of what nature and scope. The study would have been one of vast interest, and it would have had an immense influence upon some modern religious views. But Dr. Howe’s plans were thwarted by certain zealous person, who, during his absence in Europe, thought it their duty to save Laura’s soul without further delay. Accordingly the filler her mind with the dogmas of the orthodox faith, and she accepted them. When Dr. Howe returned he found his protégé a changed woman. She was no longer, mentally and morally, original and independent. She made Scriptural injunctions the basis of almost every thought and process of reasoning, and so it has been ever since. Dr. Howe died without accomplishing his great ambition in the case of Laura, or anyone similarly unfortunate. The existence of a person filling the conditions was never known before. There have been a few people deaf, dumb and blind, made so by accident or disease after they had reached years of memory and knowledge, but no case where the victim was practically born with those infirmities, and who possessed an active, capable mind.
There has been no parallel of Laura Bridgman’s case until, within a few months. Mr. Anagnos has been following the career of a young girl in Alabama, who promises even more wonderful results than did Laura. Her name is Helen Keller, and she lives with her parents, well-to-do people in Tuscaloosa. She is 7 years old, and lost the faculty of sight, speech and hearing when only six months old. She is thoroughly robust and healthy, while Laura all her life has been delicate. Furthermore she is bright and intelligent, and is pining for knowledge. In February last, Mr. Anagnos sent one of the best instructors of the institution, Miss Sullivan, to Alabama to undertake the education of the unfortunate child. She has pursued the same methods adopted by Dr. Howe with wonderful success. When the child, after a few weeks, began to comprehend the meaning of the raised letter signs upon her playthings she became wild with joy and ambition, which were both pitiful and inspiring. She shows powers of memory that are remarkable. Already she has mastered nearly 500 words, and she would spend all her time adding to her knowledge if permitted. She abandons all her former amusements, and begs all around her constantly to talk to her with their fingers. Such words as “comforter,” “spread,” “pillow,” she learns and spells correctly after only on repetition. Mr. Anagnos fears, however, that this opportunity for making the great investigation which Dr. Howe sought to undertake will also be lost to science. The child’s parents are strong Presbyterians, and they are anxious that little Helen’s spiritual welfare shall be ministered unto as soon as she is able to comprehend their theology.
From the Daily Missouri Republican (St. Louis, Missouri), dated April 1, 1888:
Helen Keller
The Little Blind Deaf-Mute of Tuscumbia, Ala.
More Wonderful Even Than the Case of Laura Bridgman
Her Progress in Eight Months Almost Incredible
Seemingly Able to Read the Thoughts of Her Associates
The Republican last Sunday gave a sketch of the life of little Helen Keller, together with a short account of Miss Sullivan’s first year’s work with her as her teacher. Today the pictures of teacher and pupil are given, as also additional information concerning the little girls history and education and a chapter from the last annual report of the Perkins school. Mr. Anagnos in his fifty-sixth annual report of the Perkins institution and Massachusetts School for the Blind says: “The discovery of ways and means for rescuing persons afflicted with combined blindness and deafness from the dungeon of deathlike darkness and stillness and for enabling them to come into communion with the outer world is one of the grandest achievements of the nineteenth century. History has preserved the names of only a few members of the human family who have been doomed to that terrible state of mental and spiritual incarceration, which one of its more recent victims, Mr. Morrison Heady of Kentucky, delineates so pathetically in his most powerful poem, ‘The Double Night,’ but there is no mention of any serious attempts having ever been made to teach them systematic language as a means of intercourse with their fellows. It was just fifty years last autumn since the popular heart of this country first went out in sympathy toward Laura Bridgman in her dreadful affliction. Attached early in childhood by that dire disease, scarlet fever, in a malignant form, she was shorn of the senses of sight and hearing, taste and smell, and was left in a most deplorable condition. For five months she lay in a darkened room. After long suffering she began to rally. She improved slowly, and two years had passed before her health was fully restored, but her mind was shut up by what appeared to be an impenetrable wall. Her deprivations were simply appalling. She was left with the meager equipment of touch as her sole means from which to find her way into the world of thought, speech and light. Benevolent persons, amazed at the immensity of her calamity, asked: ‘Who will free this imprisoned soul? Who will bridge the chasm that separates this isolated spirit from her kind?’ In the midst of general silence the illustrious founder of this institution answered: ‘I will try,’ and hastened to Hanover, N.H., to ascertain the facts in the case and induce the parents of the little girl to send her to Boston and place her under his care.
Dr. Howe was, buy constitution, a champion of freedom, by impulse a philanthropist, and by genius and purpose a reformer. Like many gallant workers in the world he had the soldier spirit with the Saviour intent – and the love of adventure as well. He was the man to go out as an apostle of liberation. He entered upon the task of piercing a trackless forest, and purveying mental pabulum to the starving mind of Laura with undaunted courage and indomitable will. He had no precedent to follow, no indices to be guided by. But he was determined to succeed. In his estimate, obstacles of whatever magnitude were only ‘things to be overcome,’ and nothing more. He was confident that his little pupil possessed the desire and capacity for acquiring a complete arbitrary language, and resolved to enable her to do so. Perseverance, skill, sagacity, ingenuity, and in fact all the resources of his fertile brain, and the forces of his unbending will were brought to bear upon this point. Finally, after numberless trials and heroic efforts for weeks and months, the first and most important step was taken. Laura was made to understand that all things have names which can be expressed by complex sigs or letters embossed on paper or formed by the fingers. Thus a grand victory was won. A new jewel was added to the crown of philanthropy, and the name of Dr. Howe was engraved on the golden tables on which are inso??? [illegible] flames of the benefactors of mankind. The methods and processes employed in Laura’s case were soon applied to that of Oliver Caswell, and proved to be most efficacious. They have since become standard and are now used on both hemispheres with great success. During the past twenty-five years the number of persons bereft of the sense of sight and hearing has increased in both Europe and America. Sporadic cases are found, almost everywhere, but by far the largest proportionate number is scattered among the rural population of Sweden. Reliable statistics show that there are from thirty to thirty –five sufferers of this class in that country.
“A benevolent lady, Mme. Elizabeth Aurep Nordin, has taken a profound interest in the welfare of these hapless human beings. She has called the attention of the royal family to their existence and condition, and has secured parliamentary legislation for their care and training. Aided by a religious society, she came to this country about twenty months ago, visited the institutions for the deaf and those for the blind in New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Harford, Northampton and Boston, and spent several weeks under our roof studying the case of Laura Bridgman. On her return home to Skara, Sweden – where her husband is the principal of an establishment for deaf mutes – she organized a little school and commenced work with five pupils. Owing to the lack of sufficient pecuniary means this most beneficent enterprise is not making as rapid progress as we desire. The last census of the United States does not give the exact number of persons afflicted with the loss of two or more senses, but it is safe to state that there is not fewer than forty. About one dozen of these have been, or are now, under instruction in various schools for the deaf or for the blind.
A Few Cases
“The case of Jas. H. Caton has been known for a number of years. He was graduated from the New York institution for the deaf and dumb in June last and delivered the salutatory address.
“Agnes O’Connor has been in the Illinois institution for the deaf and dumb since last winter. She was taken there by the superintendent, Dr. Gillett, who had found her in the Cook county almshouse, and was placed under the immediate supervision and tuition of his niece, Miss Jane V. Gillett. The exact age of the unfortunate girl is not known, but she is not far from her 13th year. Dr. Gillett has spared no pains in directing her education, and she is making very satisfactory progress.
“Albert A. Nolan of Salem, Mass., was admitted to the American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, at Hartford, October 14, ???6 [illegible], at the age of 12 years. The principal of that institution, Prof. Job Williams, assigned the task of introducing him to a knowledge of words to one of his most competent teachers, Miss Kate C. Camp, and has himself taken a deep interest in devising or providing means to facilitate her work. During a brief visit in Harford last February, I had an opportunity of witnessing the processes employed in the training of this lass, and of seeing the progress he was making, and it is with great pleasure that I bear testimony to the excellence of both the methods and the results.
“Mr. Frank Battles, acting principal of the Pennsylvania Institution for the Blind in Philadelphia, has among his pupils three who are both deaf and sightless – Wm. A. Miller, born in England December 30, 1871 (lost his sight at 11 years of age); Martha Morehouse, born in New Jersey September 2, 1866, and Katharine A. W. Parry, born in England July 20, 1872 (lost her sight at 7 years of age, but sees enough to distinguish colors and objects plainly). They all retain the power of speech, having lost the sense of hearing after they had learned to talk. They are taught by means of the single hand manual alphabet used by the deaf, and are making satisfactory progress both in their studies and in various handicrafts.
“Edith M. Thomas was admitted to the kindergarten for the blind connected with this institution several weeks ago, and one of our graduates, Miss Lillian May Fletcher, was engaged as her special teacher, and has already taken successfully the first steps in opening to her the mysteries of language.
Helen Keller
“But of all the blind and deaf-mute children who are under instruction, Helen Keller of Tuscumbia, Ala., is undoubtedly the most remarkable. It is no hyperbole to say that she is no phenomenon. History presents no case like hers. In many respects, such as intellectual alertness, keenness of observation, eagerness for information and in brightness and vivacity of temperament she is unquestionably equal to Laura Bridgman, while in quickness of perception, grasp of ideas, breadth of comprehension, insatiate thirst for solid knowledge, self-reliance and sweetness of disposition she certainly excels her prototype. The case of this child is unique and of absorbing interest in every respect. So far as I know it is the only one inexistence which promises to throw important light upon such psychological questions as were no exhaustively investigated by Dr. Howe on account of the biasing influence which bigoted and fanatical zealots brought to bear upon the mind of his pupil during the process of his work. Let us hope that both science and humanity will profit by the present opportunity to the fullest extent.
Helen’s Teacher
“But remarkable and unparalleled as is Helen’s case, that of her teacher is, in some points, no less noteworthy. Annie M. Sullivan entered our school October 7, 1880, at the age of 16 years. Her sight was so seriously impaired as to justify her classification with the blind. The circumstances of her early life were very inauspicious. She was neither rocked in a cradle lined with satin and supplied with down cushions nor brought up in the lap of luxury. On the contrary, her experiences in childhood and youth were of a most distressing character. But it should be remembered that it is adversity rather than prosperity which stimulates the perseverance of strong, healthy natures, rouses their energy and develops their powers. This was precisely the case with Miss Sullivan. When she was admitted to the institution her stock of information was painfully meager. Her blindness cut her entirely off from all advantages, but even before the obscuration of her vision her struggle for the means of existence had been so constant as to preclude all possibility of her acquiring the rudiments of knowledge. Hence she was obliged to begin her education from the lowest and most elementary point, but she showed from the very start that she had in herself the force and capacity which insures success. The furnace of hardships through which she passed was not without beneficent results. It freed the pure gold of her nature from all dross, for as Byron puts it:
The rugged metal of the mine
Must burn before its surface shine.
“An iron will was hammered out upon the anvil of misfortune. Miss Sullivan was not very long under systematic instruction before she gave unmistakable evidences of the depth, the steadfastness and the beauty of her character. She spared no pains to remedy the defects and to fill out the gaps in her training. She toiled in season and out of reason to overcome obstacles. She was determined to climb to the top of the ladder and used uncommon industry, perseverance and resolution as steps for the ascent. She has finally reached the goal for which she strove so bravely. The golden words that Dr. Howe uttered and the example that he left passed into her thoughts and heart and helped her on the road of usefulness, and now she stands by his side as his worthy successor in one of the most cherished branches of his work, carrying it on in a most satisfactory manner, and receiving the benediction of his spirit.
Delightful task to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot,
To pour the fresh instruction o’er the mind,
The breathe the enlivening spirit and to fix
The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
“Miss Sullivan’s talents are of the highest order. In breadth of intellect, in opulence of mental power, in fertility of resource, in originality of device, and in practical sagacity she stands in the front ranks. Only one of Dr. Howe’s assistants, Miss Wright (afterward Mrs. Edward Bond), could vie with her in these respects. Miss Sullivan is truly an honor to the graduates of this institution. By proper treatment and skillful surgical operations the thick opaqueness of her eyes were converted into translucency, and now she is able to read and write with but very little difficulty. Her personality is marked and positive. The story of her life is one of high endeavor and grand achievement. Helen’s rescue from the abyss of darkness and stillness is the crown of her work. She undertook the task with becoming modesty and diffidence, and accomplished it alone, quietly and unostentatiously.”
The rapid progress made by Miss Sullivan’s pupil was shown in last Sunday’s Republican. June 19, three months and a half after Miss Sullivan arrived at Tuscumbia, she wrote to Mr. Anagnos: “During our walks Helen keeps up a continual spelling and delights to accompany it with actions, such as skipping, hopping, jumping, running, walking fast, walking slowly and the life. When she drops stitches she says: ‘Helen wrong, teacher will cry.’ If she wants water she says: ‘Give Helen drink water.’ She knows 400 words, besides numerous proper nouns. In one lesson I taught her these words – bedstead, mattress, sheet, blanket, comforter, spread, pillow. The next day I found she remembered all but ‘spread.’ The same day she had learned at different times the words ‘house, weed, dust, swing, molasses, fast, slow, maple-sugar and counter,; and she had not forgotten one of these last. This will give you an idea of the retentive memory she possesses. She can count to thirty very quickly. She seems to understand about writing letters and is impatient to write Frank a letter. She enjoys punching holes in paper with the stiletto, and I supposed it was because she could examine the result of her work, but we watched her one day and I was much surprised to find that she imagined she was writing a letter. She would spell ‘Eva’ (a cousin of whom she is very fond) with one hand, then make believe write it; then spell ‘sick in bed’ and write that. She kept this up for nearly an hour. She was (or imagined she was) putting on paper the things which had interested her. When she had finished she carried it to her mother and spelled ‘Frank letter,’ and gave it to her brother to take to the post office.”
About the same time or a little earlier Miss Sullivan wrote as illustrations Helen’s love of dress: “Have I told you that Helen has a great notion of ‘primping?’ Nothing pleases her better than to be dressed in her best clothes. The other day I told her to put her hat on and I would take her to walk. I was changing my dress at the time, and I supposed Helen thought I was dressing up. She went down stairs in a great hurry, and showed her mother that she wanted her best dress on. Mrs. Keller paid no attention to her. Hence she decided to fix herself. When I called for her, I found the most comical-looking child imaginable. She had wet her hair until the water was running in little streams in all directions, and if it did not look sleek, nothing ever did. She had found her father’s hair-oil and put no small quantity of that on as a ‘finishing touch.’ Then she had oiled her face. She had ‘seen’ people put glycerin on their faces and she probably thought they did for the sake of appearance. Then she took the baby’s powder and applied that in small patches, so that she looked like a little darkey with a white eruption. When she had completed her toilet to her own satisfaction, she came for her mother’s approval with such a self-satisfied air. Of course she found us both laughing as if we would die. You never saw anyone look so comical. I assure you, we had hard work to make her dress according to our ideas.”
Extracts from several of Helen’s letters were published last Sunday, and the one received by Mr. Anagnos last winter is here reproduced, together with a facsimile copy of a portion of it, showing the hand writing of a little blind and deaf girl not yet 8 years old:
“Dear Mr. Anagnos – I will write you a letter. I and teacher did have picture. Teacher will send it to you. Photographer does make pictures, carpenter does build new houses, gardener does dig and hoe ground and plant vegetables. My doll Nancy is sleeping. She is sick. Mildred is well. Uncle Frank has gone hunting deer. We will have venison for breakfast when he comes home. I did ride in wheelbarrow, and teacher did push it. Simpson did give me popcorn and walnuts. Cousin Rosa has gone to see her mother. People do go to church Sunday. I did read in my book about fox and box. I do like to read in my book. You do love me. I do love you. Good-by. Helen Keller”
At Mr. Anagnos’ request, Miss Sullivan prepared a brief account of Helen’s life and education, which is here given: Helen Adams Keller, daughter of Arthur H. and Kate Keller, was born June 27, 1880, in Tuscumbia, Ala. Her father was formerly editor of the North Alabamian, an old, influential and well-known journal, and is now United States marshal for the Northern district of Alabama. Mr. Arthur H. Keller’s father was a native of Switzerland, who came to America before the Revolution and settled in Maryland. His mother, Mary F. Keller, was born in Rockbridge, Va. Her maiden name was Moore, and she was a great-granddaughter of Alexander Spottswood, the first colonial governor of that state, and the founder of the Order of the Knights of the golden Horseshoe. She was also second cousin to Gen. Robert e. Lee. Helen’s mother is a daughter of the late gen. Charles W. Adams of Memphis, Tenn., a distinguished lawyer, and brigadier general in the confederate army. He was a native of Boston, Mass., but moved to the South when quite a young man. Mrs. Keller’s mother was an Everett and her grandparents on her mothers’ side were also from the North.
When Helen was about 19 months old she was attacked violently with congestion of the stomach, and this illness resulted in total loss of sight and hearing. Previously she had enjoyed perfect health and is said to have been an unusually bright and active child. She had learned to walk and was fast learning to talk. During this sickness her life hung in the balance for several days, and after recovery there was no evidence for some time of any injury to her eyes, except a red and inflamed appearance.
The terrible truth soon dawned upon her parents, however. They tried every available avenue of relief, carrying her to the best specialist of the day, from none of whom, however, did they receive the slightest hope of her restoration to sight or hearing. For many months her eyes were every painful, and she buried them in bed clothes away from the light. Soon she ceased to talk, because she had ceased to hear any sound. But her busy brain was not idle. Her mind was bright and clear. As her physical strength returned she began to exhibit wonderful aptitude for learning everything about the economy of the household. She also learned to distinguish the different members of the family and of her acquaintance and became familiar with their features through the sense of touch. As her mother went about her daily household duties, Helen was always by her side. Her little hands felt of every object and detected every movement. Then she began to imitate the motions of those around her, and to express her wants and many of her thoughts by signs. Both her power of imitation and her ability to express herself by means of natural signs were developed to a remarkable degree. Her parents finally became convinced that there was no possibility of Helen’s regaining either sight or hearing, and on March 2, 1887, I became her teacher. I found her a bright, active, well-grown girl, with a clear and healthful complexion and pretty brown hair. She was quick and graceful in her movements, having fortunately not acquired any of those nervous habits so common among the blind. She has a merry laugh and is fond of romping with other children. Indeed, she is never sad, but has the gayety which belongs to her age and temperament. When alone, she is restless, and always flits from place to place as if searching for something or somebody.
Her sense of touch is so acute that a slight contact enables her to recognize her associates. She can even distinguish readily between puppies of the same litter, and will spell the name of each as she touches him. So nice is her sense of smell that she will recognize different roses by their fragrance, and by the same sense she can separate her own clothes from those which belong to others. Equally perfect is her sense of taste. She inherited a quick temper and an obstinate will, and, owing to her deprivations, neither had ever been subdued or directed. She would often give way to violent paroxysms of anger when she had striven in vain to express intelligibly some idea. As soon, however, as she learned to use the finger alphabet, these outbursts ceased, and now she seldom loses her temper. Her disposition is sweet and gently, and she is remarkably affectionate and demonstrative. She frequently leaves work or play to caress those near her, and likes to kiss all her friends. If she is conscious of having displeased anyone she is not satisfied until she makes her peace with a kiss. She is never irritable or fretful, and no longer cries from vexation or disappointment. Seldom will physical pain draw tears from her eyes, but she will discover quickly if a friend is hurt or ill, or grieved by her own conduct; and this knowledge makes her weep freely. Her fondness for dress and finery is as noticeable as that of any seeing child. She is the happiest when she has on her best dresses, and she spends much time over her toilet. She learned with astonishing readiness to conduct herself properly at the table, to be neat and orderly about her person, and to be correct in her deportment. When I had been with her long enough for intimate mutual acquaintance I took her one morning to the school room and began her first lesson. She had a beautiful doll which had been sent her from Boston, and I had chosen it for the object of this lesson. When her curiosity concerning it was satisfied, and she sat quietly holding it, I took her hand and passed it over the doll. Then I made the letters d-o-l-l slowly with the finger alphabet, she holding my hand and feeling the motions of my fingers. I began to make the letters a second time. She immediately dropped the doll and followed the motions of my fingers with one hand while she repeated the letters with the other. She next tried to spell the word without assistance, though rather awkwardly. She did not give the double “l,” and so I spelled the word once more, laying stress on the repeated letter. She then spelled doll correctly. This process was repeated with other words and Helen soon learned six words – doll, hat, mug, pin, cup, ball. When given one of these objects she would spell its name, but it was more than a week before she understood that all things were thus identified. She would manifest pleasure when told the name of a new object and was always delighted to receive a pat of approval. One day I took her to the cistern. As the water gushed from the pump, I spelled w-a-t-e-r. Instantly she tapped my hand for a repetition and then made the word herself, with a radiant face. Just then the nurse came into the cistern-house, bringing her little sister. I put Helen’s hand on the baby and formed the letter b-a-b-y, which she repeated without help and with the light of a new intelligence beaming from her expressive features. On our way back to the house everything she touched had to be named to her and repetition was seldom necessary. Neither the length of the word nor the combination of letters seems to make any difference to the child. Indeed, she remembers heliotrope with chrysanthemum more readily than she does shorter names.”
Helen now understood that everything had a name, and that by placing the fingers in certain positions we could communicate these names to each other. Since that day my method of teaching her has been to let her examine an object carefully and then give her its name with my fingers. Never did a child apply herself more joyfully to any task than did Helen to the acquisition of new words. In a few days she had mastered the manual alphabet and learned upwards of a hundred names. At the end of August she knew six hundred and twenty-five words. At first it was necessary to use a great many signs in conversation with her, but these were laid aside as soon as the better medium of communication was established.
Next I taught her the verbs, beginning with sit, stand, shut, open. As the spelling of each word was accompanied by the action it represented she soon caught its meaning and almost immediately used it in forming sentences. The verb “give” was troublesome, but she mastered it in a few days. This lesson was followed with one on words indicative of place relations. Her dress was put in a trunk, and then on it and these prepositions were spelled for her. Very soon she learned the difference between on and in, though it was some time before she could use these words in sentences of her own. Whenever possible she was made the actor in the lesson and was delighted to stand on the chair and to be put into the wardrobe. In this way she learned the force of these words more quickly than she could have done with the use of a box and ring. In connection with this lesson she learned the names of the members of the family and the verb is. “Helen is in wardrobe,” “Mildred is in crib,” “box is on table,” “papa is on bed,” are specimens of sentences constructed by the child during the latter part of April.
Next came a lesson on words expressive of positive quality. For the first lesson I had two balls, one made of worsted, large and soft, the other a bullet. She perceived the difference in size at once. Taking the bullet she made her habitual sign for “small” – that is by pinching a little bit of the skin of one hand. Then she took the other ball and made her sign for “large,” by spreading both hands over it. I substituted the adjectives “large” and “small” for these signs. Then her attention was called to the hardness of one ball and the softness of the other, and so she learned “soft” and “hard.” A few minutes afterward she felt of her little sister’s head and said to her mother: “Mildred’s head is small and hard.” Next I tried to teach her the meaning of “fast” and “slow.” She helped me to wind some worsted one day, first rapidly and afterwards slowly. I then said to her with the finger alphabet, “wind fast,” or “wind slow,” holding her hands and showing her how to do as I wished. The next day while exercising, she spelled to me: “Helen wind fast,” and began to walk rapidly. Then she said: “Helen, wind slow,” again suiting the action to the words. May-day she came to me and said: “Give Helen key open door.” I then taught her the word “will” and she learned at once to say: “Give Helen key and Helen will open door.” I had tried a few mornings before to make her understand the use of the conjunction “and,” which she now supplies of her own accord.
She often surprises me in this way. When I think I have failed to make something plain to her and conclude to await another opportunity, she anticipates me and shows me that she has already caught my meaning. I now thought it time to reach her to read printed words. A slip on which was printed in raised letters the word “box” was placed on that object and the same experiment was tried with a great many articles, but she did not immediately comprehend that the label-name represented the thing. Then I took an alphabet sheet and put her finger on the letter “A,” at the same time making “A” with my fingers. She moved her finger from one printed character to another as I formed each letter on my fingers. Incredible as it may seem she learned all the letters, both capital and small, in one day. Next I turned to the first page of the primer and made her touch the word “cat,” spelling it on my fingers at the same time. Instantly she caught the idea, and asked me to find “dog” and many other words. Indeed, she was much displeased because I could not find her name in the book. Just then I had no sentences in raised letters which she could understand, all of them being for more advanced pupils; but she would sit for hours feeling of each word in her book. When she touched one with which she was familiar a peculiarly sweet expression would light up her face, and we saw her countenance growing sweeter and more earnest every day. About this time I sent a list of the words she knew to Mr. Anagnos, and he very kindly had them printed for her. Her mother and I cut up several sheets of printed words, so she could arrange them into sentences. This delighted her more than anything she had yet done, and the practice thus obtained prepared the way for the writing lessons. There was no difficulty in making her understand how to write the same sentences with pencil and paper which she made every day with the slips, and she very soon perceived that she need not confine herself to phrases already learned, but could communicate any thought that was passing through her mind,. I put one of the writing boards used by the blind between the folds of the paper on the table, and allowed her to examine an alphabet of the square letters, such as she was to make. I then guided her hand so as to form the sentence, “Cat does drink milk.” When she finished it she was overjoyed. She carried it to her mother, who spelled it to Helen as she read it. The child could scarcely restrain her excitement and joy as each word was thus repeated to her. Day after day she moved her pencil in the same tracks along the grooved paper, never for a moment expressing the least impatience or sense of fatigue The weeks she spent in forming the same letters over and over again were weeks of interest and pleasure to me. With such a gentle, persevering and patient pupil who would not find teaching a delight? On the 12th of July she wrote without assistance a correctly spelled and legible letter to one of her cousins, and this was only a little more than a month after her first lesson in chirography. She is very fond of letter-writing and has written several epistles – which are truly wonderful when her age and opportunities are considered. As she had now learned to express her ideas on paper I next taught her the Braille system. She learned it gladly when she discovered that she could herself read what she had written; and this still affords her constant pleasure. For a whole evening she will sit at the table writing whatever comes into her busy brain; and I seldom find any difficulty in reading what she has written. Her progress in arithmetic has been equally remarkable. She can add and subtract with great rapidity up to the sum of 100, and she knows the multiplication table as far as “fives.” She was working recently with the number forty, when I said to her, “Make twos.” She replied without waiting to cipher out the sum, “Twenty twos make forty.” Later I said, “Make fifteen threes and count.” I wished her to make the groups of threes and supposed she would then have to count them in order to know what number fifteen threes would make. But instantly she spelled the answer, “Fifteen threes make forty-five.” She said to me a few days ago: “What is Helen made of?” I replied: “Flesh and blood and bone.” A little while afterwards I asked her about her dog “what is Jumbo made of?” After a moment’s pause she answered, “flesh and bone and blood.” I then turned to the doll and asked: “What is Nancy made of?” Helen was puzzled, but at last she replied slowly, as if in doubt: “Straw.” Evidently she went through a process of reasoning and concluded that her doll was not made of the same material as herself and her dog. On being told that she was white and that one of her servants was black she concluded that all who occupied a similar menial position were of the same hue, and whenever I asked her the color of a servant she would say “black.” When asked the color of some one whose occupation she did not know, she seemed bewildered and finally said: “blue.” Helen takes great pleasure in learning their habits and uses. It would puzzle a far wiser person than I am to answer many of her eager questions. Her power of imitation is strongly developed. Her memory is retentive and her curiosity insatiable. The relation of things she quickly perceives – so quickly that she seems sometimes to divine our very thoughts.
By way of illustration I will give a few of the many instances where she has exercised this inexplicable mental power. She has never been told anything about death or the burial of the body and yet on entering the cemetery for the first time in her life, with her mother and myself, to look at some flowers, she laid her hand on our eyes and repeatedly spelled, “cry,” “cry.” Her eyes actually filled with tears. The flowers did not seem to give her pleasure, and she was very quiet while we stayed there. Her grandmother told Mrs. Keller, in Helen’s presence, that orange peel soaked in wine made a nice flavoring for a cake. Mrs. Keller gave Helen the orange peel and showed her how to cut it up and put it into the jar. As soon as Helen had done this, she went to her mother, spelled “wine;” nor would she be satisfied until the wine was added to the jar. One of her dolls was knocked off the table and broken. As we were tired of seeing it lying about, Mrs. Adams said to Mrs. Keller, “Give it to Bessie” – a little negress on the place. Instantly Helen said with her fingers, “Helen will give Bessie doll.” On another occasion while walking with me she seemed conscious of the presence of her brother, although we were distant from him. She spelled his name repeatedly and started in the direction by which he was coming. When walking or riding she often gives the names of the people we meet almost as soon as we recognize their presence. Frequently, when desirous of making suggestions to her outside of the routine of her studies or her daily life, she will anticipate me by spelling out the very plan I had in mind. Of necessity much must be omitted which would be of interest concerning this remarkable child. Her progress thus far has been most gratifying. With great patience and perseverance she is constantly adding to her little store of knowledge. Every day finds some new task completed, some fresh obstacle overcome.
From the Trenton Evening Times (Trenton, New Jersey), dated November 8, 1902:
Helen Keller The Wonder Girl
June 27, 1880, was born to Mr. and Mrs. Arthur H. Keller of Tuscumbia, Ala., a fair little daughter, Helen Adams. Mr. Keller was of Swiss descent; Mrs. Keller came from the line of the New England Everetts. The child, Helen, was beautiful, active and healthy, unusually promising, with all her five senses uncommonly keen and quick. At nineteen months old she was running about and had begun to talk.
Then she was attacked with a violent congestion of the stomach. Gradually she recovered from the illness, but even as gradually her sight and hearing faded away altogether. The stomach trouble had injured them irreparably.
Indications showed the child to possess a brain of remarkable power, but it was locked away from the bright world so effectually it seemed as if it would never be able to manifest on the earth plane. Meantime the child’s sense of touch developed to an extraordinary degree. At the autopsy held over the body of that other remarkable blind deaf mute, Laura Bridgman, it was found that in her finger tips there was actually a deposit of gray brain matter. It must be the same with Helen Keller, for in time she grew to recognize every member of her family by the touch. She learned to distinguish all household objects in the same way and could feel her way about her home. But as she grew older she became more and more subject to violent fits of anger. They found these were because she could not express herself as others do. She knew they communicated with one another in a way she could not do, and it filled her with rage and despair. Likewise she began to show a disposition toward impish mischief that promised much trouble for the future.
It was time something be done with Helen. Then, she being not quite seven years old, there came into her life Helen Keller’s good angel, Miss Annie M. Sullivan, her teacher, who has remained with her from that day to this. Helen Keller was an untaught child, running wild. Now she is a junior in Radcliffe College, Harvard University, and this, aside from what her own marvelous intellect has done for her, she owes to Miss Sullivan. Helen Keller can now stand upon a platform and address an audience with the grace and clear articulation of a polished speaker and with an eloquence all her own, an eloquence that is marvelous. Had she been as other women are she would no doubt have been a writer and a distinguished literary light. Perhaps she may be yet, for she is only twenty-two, and her letters, her diary and her college theses display a power of imagination and of language that few writers, with all their senses perfect, are able to attain.
In an address before the New York Woman’s Press Club some time since Mark Twin told how he had visited Helen Keller one evening with some friends, one of whom was W.D. Howells. They were introduced one by one, talked with the young lady and at length they took their leave. Miss Keller shook hands with every one at parting, but she evidently had something on her mind. She looked troubled and puzzled. It was at length explained that there was one of the party whom she could not recall by name, and that annoyed her, for after one introduction she never forgets an individual. This time, however, there was one among the party of gentlemen whom she desired to have presented to her again. Then it transpired that this particular man had shaken hands with Helen before removing his gloves. Thus Helen had failed to get a good sight of him, so to speak, because she had not obtained the clear touch of his naked hand. After detailing the marvelous development of Miss Keller’s mind under what seemed to be impossible conditions, Mark Twain added: “And I sometimes think if I had been born blind, deaf and dumb, I, too, might have amounted to something after awhile.”
If it be true there is a special design in every individual’s creation, then nature, to use the small name instead of the supreme one, must have here meant to show that the real human being exists independent of, even apart from, the ordinary five material senses. Helen Keller’s case shows too, how all the five senses are ultimately resolved into one – that of touch.
From the time the girl passed under Miss Sullivan’s care the fits of anger and the disposition to mischief disappeared. The child was beginning to be in touch with her kind. Her soul was unlocked at last, and it poured itself out in love and wonder. She was so full of gratitude because she could learn things that it filled her with perpetual joy. There is always something new to learn, and Helen Keller is one of the happiest women living. Her education began with learning the bottom fact that everything has a name. Next she went to Boston with Miss Sullivan and entered the Massachusetts institution for the blind.
During the following summer vacation the two went to the seashore, and Helen had a voyage on an ocean steamer. The progressive psychological processes of this prisoned soul are intensely interesting, all the more so because in her diary she has set them down clearly and logically. She can neither hear nor see, yet she knows when a thunderstorm is on as well as the ordinary individual does. A thunderstorm causes vibration, and to vibration of all sorts the soul of Helen Keller responds instantly. She felt the jarring of the steamer’s machinery on her first ocean voyage and concluded there was a thunderstorm. It had to be explained to her that this was the throbbing of a steam vessel’s engines. Then she learned something new.
She went in bathing and was tossed in the breakers. She was knocked over and got water in her mouth. On emerging and being righted up again she immediately asked: “Who put salt in the water?” And once more Helen Keller learned something. She has told the story of this first ocean bath in the Ladies’ Home Journal, a story revealing well the vivid, graceful literary style of this wonder girl. She says:
“The buoyant motion of the water filled me with an exquisite, quivering joy; I felt the pebbles rattling as the waves threw their ponderous weight against the shore, the whole beach seemed racked by their terrific onset, and the air throbbed with their pulsations. The breakers would swoop back to gather themselves for a mightier leap, and I clung to the rock, tense, fascinated, as I felt the dash and roar of the rushing sea.”
She felt all this grand sea story, and she could tell it better than can those who both see and hear it. To her, vibration is seeing and hearing.
Helen was so glad to be learning that in one day she mastered the whole raised alphabet for the blind, both capitals and small letters. She uses a typewriter with remarkable accuracy and on it writes her Greek exercises in college. She is studying Greek, Latin, French and German. One of the most interesting phases of her development is that pertaining to other world life. Her parents were careful not to let her child mind be perplexed by theology of any kind. In time, however, she learned something of current religious beliefs from others, but in the main she has evolved her own faiths. “In God’s beautiful sometime,” she wrote at the age of twelve years: “I know I shall have the things for which I now pray so earnestly – fullness of life, like the sea and sun; mind equal and beyond all fullness, greatness and goodness of soul higher than all things.” And eight years ago she wrote: “I like to think I lived with God in the beautiful somewhere before I came here.”
She perceives conversation by placing her fingers upon the speaker’s lips and throat. She feels sounds as others hear them, and from the softest footfall can recognize those whom she knows. There are things more marvelous than this. Once her grandmother told her mother in her presence that wine poured upon orange peel makes fine flavoring for cake. Her mother put the orange peel into Helen’s fingers and showed her how to cut it up and put it into a jar, telling her nothing of the wine. Immediately Helen spelled out “wine” with her fingers, for she had not then learned to talk. Again, her mother once said that a broken doll of Helen’s should be given to a little negro girl. Instantly, as though she had heard it, Helen spelled out: “Helen will give Bessie doll.” Can we conceive of a perception so fine that a person can catch the vibration made by sound even when the auditory nerve cannot do its proper work?
Besides her scholastic attainments, Helen Keller is considerable of an athlete, swimming, riding horseback and cycling on a tandem.
Marilla Weaver
From the New York Times (New York), dated June 2, 1968:
Helen Keller, 87, Dies
Special to The New York Times
Westport, Conn., June 1--Helen Keller, who overcame blindness and deafness to become a symbol of the indomitable human spirit, died this afternoon in her home here. She was 87 years old.
"She drifted off in her sleep," said Mrs. Winifred Corbally, Miss Keller's companion for the last 11 years, who was at her bedside. "She died gently." Death came at 3:35 P.M.
She is survived by a brother, Phillips B. Keller of Dallas, and a sister, Mrs. Mildred Tyson of Montgomery, Ala.
After private cremation, a funeral service will be held at the National Cathedral in Washington. No date has yet been set.
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