Silent Life and Silent Language

The Inner Life of a Mute in an Institution for the Deaf

Kate M. Farlow

• Publisher: Gallaudet University Press
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN:
  9781944838294
• eBook ISBN:
  9781944838300
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Sociology
• Index: Social Sciences

Silent Life and Silent Language presents a fictionalized account of life at a Midwestern residential school for deaf students in the years following the Civil War. Based on the experiences of the author, who became deaf at the age of nine and entered a residential school when she was twelve, this historical work is remarkable and rare because it focuses on signing deaf women's lives. One of only a few accounts written by deaf women in the 19th century, Silent Life and Silent Language gives a detailed description of daily life and learning at the Indiana Asylum for the Education of the Deaf and Dumb.

       Kate M. Farlow wrote this book with the goal of giving hearing parents hope that their deaf children would be able to lead happy and productive lives. She sought to raise awareness of the benefits of deaf schools and was an early advocate for the use of American Sign Language and of bilingual education. The Christian influence on the school and on the author is strongly present in her writing and reflects an important component of deaf education at the time. Descriptions of specific signs, games, ASL story nights, and other aspects of the signing community during the 1870s will be of interest to modern students and researchers in linguistics, deaf education, Deaf studies, and Deaf history. Farlow's work reveals a sophisticated, early understanding of the importance of access to language, education, and community for deaf individuals.

1

An Illness, and Its Result

It was a beautiful spring morning. The sunlight fell in golden splendor down upon the green earth, making the dew drops glisten and sparkle like costly diamonds. A soft and soothing spring breeze was blowing, gently stirring the delicate green leaves that covered the trees in front of Dr. Gage’s small white cottage. The bosoms of the little birds that now and then alighted upon these trees seemed filled to overflowing with gladness, so joyously did they sing.

Such was the outdoor scene presented to the eye and ear of Dr. Gage as he sat in his small but neat office from whence, through open door and window, he could catch glimpses of the outside world. He was trying to concentrate his thoughts upon a new and important medicinal treatise; but sickness, sorrow, pain, and death seemed so out of harmony with the life, and light, and beauty without that he found it impossible to become interested in his book and fell into a fit of musing.

Suddenly his train of thought was cut short by the appearance of a messenger at his open door, who said, “Doctor, you are wanted at Mr. Raymond’s. Carrie Raymond is very sick.”

At this announcement the doctor rose hastily to his feet, and, saying, “I will go in a few minutes,” began his preparations.

Upon reaching Mr. Raymond’s, he found Carrie moaning and tossing with pain. After feeling her pulse he turned to Mrs. Raymond and asked, “What were the first symptoms of illness which you observed?”

She replied, “I went into the parlor this morning and found her there, seated on the floor, with both hands clasped on the back of her neck, and crying bitterly. I asked her what was the matter, and she said her neck hurt. She also complained of pain in the head. I took her to bed at once and sent for you,” continued Mrs. Raymond.

“It is well you acted promptly,” replied the doctor. “I fear it is a case of cerebro-spinal meningitis, a very dangerous disease. I will call again in the morning, when I hope to be able to decide for a certainty the nature of the disease.” Then giving Carrie a soothing medicine to ease the pain, he left.^*

As Dr. Gage had thought, it proved to be a case of cerebro-spinal meningitis, and, in spite of care and the precautions taken, Carrie rapidly grew worse. For weeks she tossed to and fro, refusing food, meanwhile growing more and more feeble, till it seemed to the anxious watchers that speedy death was inevitable. But still, life lingered in the feeble frame, and at the end of two months a change came, and the doctor pronounced her out of danger. He was observed, however, to critically examine the pupil of her right eye, which looked inflamed and had a thin, whitish scum over it. “Is there anything serious the matter with that eye, doctor?” asked Mrs. Raymond, anxiously. The doctor did not reply at first, but when the question was repeated he answered, “I fear the sight is destroyed.” Then, seeing the look of deep pain on her face, he added, “It is quite common for the disease to affect the eyesight, but it is not always permanent; and her left eye is all right.”

From this time on, Carrie improved constantly. Her appetite, which had been entirely lacking for several weeks, now became ravenous. She would eat all it was thought prudent for her to have and cry for more. As she became more convalescent an unaccountable change was noticed in her manner. She did not appear to understand anything that was said to her, and all sounds, even the songs of the birds, which she had always delighted to listen to, were unheeded. Then, too, her conduct was at times so strange that her parents and friends were puzzled and could not account for it. Dr. Gage could not or would not advance any theory in relation to these peculiarities in her manner and conduct. As time went on these strange symptoms increased and grew more incomprehensible. Sometimes, without any visible cause, Carrie would burst into a fit of weeping, and all efforts to comfort her would for a time prove futile. At other times she would complain that someone was mocking her, and nothing could convince her that she was mistaken. She grew so timid that she could not bear to be left in a dark room, even though she knew she was not alone. As soon as the light was extinguished, strange, weird shapes seemed to fill the room, and she would shriek and cry with terror until the lamp was relighted. So all night long a lamp was kept burning in her chamber. Her parents wondered what could be the matter, as she was not naturally a timid child.

While they thus wondered, a solution of the mystery came in a very unexpected way. One day two ladies were visiting at Mrs. Raymond’s when one of them noticed Carrie’s strange behavior and thoughtlessly said to her companion, “Do you think Carrie has lost her reason?” The lady thus addressed gave her inquirer a quick, reproachful look, as much as to say, “Hush”; but Mrs. Raymond, who was in the room at the time, heard the question and saw the look which answered it, and a great pain filled her heart. Could it be, thought she, that Carrie, her bright, joyous Carrie, the pride of her heart, was doomed to go through life bereft of reason? The thought, with all its dreadful import, was almost more than she could bear. There now seemed no question of doubt as to the fact that Carrie’s mind was deranged. Suitable tests also proved, to their surprise and grief, that her sense of hearing was entirely gone!

These were dark days for Mr. and Mrs. Raymond. It seemed well-nigh impossible for them to discover any but gloomy aspects to the case, or even to find comfort in Cowper’s beautiful lines.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

But trust him for his grace:

Behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face.

But God, whom they served, had not left them in this trying ordeal. He was still constantly watching tenderly over them and theirs.

Carrie’s strength came back so slowly that months went by before she was again able to walk. As soon as she had far enough recovered to make it advisable, her father took her to a “water cure,” hoping she might be benefited by the mineral waters, and also hoping to meet with a physician who made diseases of the eye and ear a specialty. But he did not meet such a doctor, and Carrie had grown so fearful of strangers that he found it impossible to induce her to remain long among them. They soon returned home again.

Carrie’s physical health now improved rapidly, and her parents also saw, with joy, that her mental derangement was slowly disappearing. She was, however, very quiet, never answering any questions put to her. This was conclusive proof that she was indeed deaf. Human companionship now seemed distasteful to her. In summer she would often wander away alone into the woods and fields to play, talking, as she went, to the trees and flowers, or to some imaginary but invisible persons. These wanderings sometimes extended to such a length of time that, her parents growing uneasy, one of them would start out in search of the little wanderer, usually meeting her trudging along homeward with her apron gathered up to form a basket in which she would be carrying mosses, shells, bright-colored pebbles, acorns, nuts, etc., or else with her hands full of ripe berries or beautiful flowers.

Mr. and Mrs. Raymond grieved sorely over Carrie’s loss of hearing and made frequent efforts to secure medical aid whereby she might regain her power to hear, but without avail. Carrie herself was but faintly conscious of her loss. It dawned upon her mind only gradually as her reason returned. A friend, in commenting upon this fact, said, “I believe that God has some wise design in thus afflicting her, and that this darkening of the mind was sent temporarily to break the force of the grief and mental pain which a too sudden awakening to a full consciousness of her altered condition might naturally produce. Yes,” continued the friend, “I feel convinced that good and not evil will result from this seemingly unmitigated misfortune.”

God works in a mysterious way,

His wonders to perform.

“And ‘his ways are not our ways, nor his thoughts our thoughts.’ ”

Three years from the time Carrie became ill we find her fully restored, both bodily and mentally. She being now twelve years old, Mr. Raymond is advised to send her to the state institution for the deaf and dumb, to be educated.

 

*Note to readers: Some punctuation and sentences have been modernized for clarity. However, phrases that were common at the time Farlow wrote (for example, deaf-mute and deaf and dumb) have been retained.

2

Mr. Raymond Visits the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb

When the subject of sending Carrie to an institution for the deaf and dumb was first broached, both Mr. and Mrs. Raymond felt decidedly averse to the proposal. They did not like the idea of parting with her on any account. But they were very anxious to have her well educated, feeling that not only her earthly happiness and welfare, but her eternal interests, in a great degree, depended upon this. It was feared, however, that possibly the expense would be beyond their means. After some time spent in thought concerning the matter, Mr. Raymond decided to visit the institution of his state, located at I

, to learn the terms upon which pupils were admitted, and, if possible, secure for Carrie all the advantages the institution afforded. Accordingly, one pleasant August day he took the train bound for the city, and before many hours had gone by found himself at the institution. He was ushered by a servant into the presence of a small-sized, pleasant-looking gentleman, whose black hair and beard, thickly streaked with gray, suggested the fact that he had reached life’s meridian, and was journeying towards the setting sun. To this gentleman, who proved to be the superintendent of the institution, Mr. Raymond told the story of Carrie’s illness and how it had resulted in the loss of her hearing. Having finished the narrative, he said, “Now, if I can be assured that she will be well and properly cared for, and the charges are not beyond my ability to pay, I wish to have her placed under instruction here.” When he had finished, the superintendent said, “I can guarantee that she will be kindly treated, and tenderly and carefully cared for; and as to the costs of education, board, etc., these are all defrayed by the state.” Taking a report of the institution from his desk, he read the following:

The institution is open to all the deaf and dumb children in the state, of suitable age and capacity for receiving instruction, and is free of charge for boarding and lodging, instruction, schoolbooks, and medical attendance, on conformity to the rules. The age for admission should be from nine to twenty-one years. None below nine nor over twenty-one can be admitted, except by a special act of the Board of Trustees. The institution is a school of learning, and not an asylum; and no one will be admitted or retained as a pupil who, from sickness, or from any other cause, is unable to pursue successfully the prescribed course of study. And if any pupil, after a fair trial, shall prove incorrigible or incompetent for useful instruction, such pupil shall thereupon be removed. Applicants from other states may be admitted as pupils by agreeing to pay two hundred dollars each, per session of forty weeks, payable quarterly in advance, provided they can be accommodated without excluding any deaf-mutes eligible to receive instruction, and who are citizens of the state.

“The enforcement of these rules is very essential,” said the superintendent, laying down the book. “Without them,” he continued, “the institution would be the prey of lawless and ineligible characters, or else so overcrowded with deaf-mutes too young, or too old, or otherwise incapacitated for receiving an education, that neither health nor comfort could be guaranteed to any of its inmates. The number of deaf-mutes of suitable age for receiving an education in the state is large, and this number seems constantly increasing; therefore, the state can allow to each pupil but a limited period of time in which to secure an education at the public expense. Seven terms of nine months each, with a single vacation each year, extending from the middle of June to the middle of September, is the time now granted to each pupil. Your daughter will be allowed that length of time to finish her education, which time, considering the advancement you say she has already made, will, I think, be quite sufficient for her to secure all the advantages necessary to success in life. She should, if possible, be brought to the institution promptly at the opening of every term, so as to secure all the advantages it is in our power to bestow.”

Mr. Raymond promised to have Carrie promptly at school at the beginning of the next term, should no unforeseen event prevent, and arose to take his leave, expressing himself as thoroughly pleased with all he had seen of the institution.

When Mr. Raymond, by means of writing in print, told Carrie of their intention to send her to a school for the deaf and dumb, where she would be taught a great many things, her first question was, “Will they teach me to sing?” Mr. Raymond smiled when this question was asked, but answered, “Perhaps they will.” Carrie had, when quite young, learned to sing simple songs by hearing her mother and others sing them, and had acquired a deep love for song; therefore, this question was quite a natural one.

The time for the opening of the next term of school was fast approaching, and preparations for Carrie’s departure were pushed forward rapidly.

3

Carrie’s Life in the Institution Commences

The fresh green of the summer foliage was fast changing to hues of crimson and gold; ripe, luscious fruit hung temptingly from the limbs of the orchard trees, and summer’s heat had given place to the cool, fresh breezes of early autumn when Carrie left her home, and, in company with her father, mother, and little sister Minnie, departed on the train for the institution for the deaf and dumb, where the greater part of her time for seven years or more was to be spent. A pleasant ride of a few hours brought them to the city. Entering an omnibus, they were driven through the populous streets of the city towards its eastern suburb. Here they entered what seemed to be a park, with beautifully smooth lawns, still green, and dotted here and there with clumps and groups of tall evergreens and grand old forest trees. Up the smooth drive, winding between rows of trees, the omnibus passed swiftly and soon halted in front of a long building, towering story above story, high into the air, presenting so commodious yet neat an aspect. Mounting a long flight of white granite steps, they paused for a moment upon the broad portico, the massive pillars of which, rising upward for two stories, inspired Carrie with a sense of awe. Presently Carrie’s father rang the doorbell, and they were soon shown into the reception room and received a warm welcome from Mr. M

, the superintendent, whose kind expression of countenance and warm greeting at once won Carrie’s goodwill.

After arrangements had been perfected whereby Carrie was admitted to the institution and all its advantages, her parents spent a brief time in inspecting some of the rooms of the vast building, and then they were obliged to take leave of her and hurry away to the next train for home.

Carrie was then conducted into a large room and placed in the charge of two pretty little girls of about her own age. For a few hours she was much pleased with her newfound friends. She watched with amused interest their swift, though by her uncomprehended, motions, as they conversed together. She went with them from room to room, inspecting with childish curiosity the various arrangements, and tried, in her feeble, untrained way, to talk to them.

By and by the dinner hour came, and Carrie was placed between two of a row of girls, and soon they all marched down to the dining room. She did not enjoy the dinner. It was all so different to what she had been accustomed to at home; and so she felt shy and ill at ease. She was laughed at for the awkward manner in which she passed the pitcher of water from the girl on her right to the one on her left, and rebuked for holding her piece of pie in her hand instead of placing it on her plate, cutting it with her knife, and then conveying the pieces to her mouth with her fork. By this time she felt that she was losing what little self-possession and self-control she had, and arose to leave the table. But this was against the rules; so she was promptly motioned back to her seat.

After the meal was over she went into the large study room, where, laying her head down upon one of the many desks, she covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. The storm of her grief soon spent itself, however; then she felt better and accepted with cheerful smiles the little kindnesses the other girls ventured to offer her. She was soon prevailed upon to follow some of them out of doors and join them in play, and forgetting at the time that her playmates were deaf like herself, she began talking to them as she would to persons who could hear. This brought smiles of amusement to the faces of some; others shook their heads in a perplexed way, and still others acted as if they heard what she was saying, smiling and nodding their heads in a very knowing manner.

The morning after her arrival Carrie donned a neat new calico dress and was putting into the trunk the nice alpaca she had worn during her journey, when one of the older girls, who acted as special supervisor of the others, took it from her and, going to a large wardrobe, hung it upon a hook. Carrie objected to this, fearing someone would steal it, and she insisted upon putting it in her trunk; but the supervisor refused to allow her to do so. This so angered Carrie that she at once secured her hat and, declaring she would go home, glided past the supervisor and hurried downstairs and out of doors. The supervisor, who had followed the would-be runaway as fast as she could, succeeded in catching her before she had proceeded far, but she could not induce her to return. Soon the superintendent, who had been watching the scene from his window, came out upon the broad balcony, descended the steps, and came to the spot where Carrie, held an unyielding prisoner, stood. After some little time he succeeded, by his gentle manner, in inducing her to accompany the supervisor back to the house.

She had hardly reached the side door by which they must enter when Miss Tyndall, the matron of the institution, with an expression of great displeasure upon her face, came up to Carrie, seized her roughly by the arm, and administered a series of stinging blows upon her cheeks. From that hour Carrie both feared and hated Miss Tyndall. There are persons who can be rightly governed only by kindness, and who are made worse instead of better if severity is employed to correct them. Such a one was Carrie. Miss Tyndall, however, was one of that class who consider chastisement to be the proper remedy for all cases of disobedience, and thought she was only doing her duty in administering it. Carrie’s actions seemed to convince her, however, that she had made a mistake in her mode of treatment, and she set about making amends for her harshness. Calling some of the other girls, she directed t...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Author’s Preface
• Introduction
• 1 An Illness, and Its Result
• 2 Mr. Raymond Visits the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb
• 3 Carrie’s Life in the Institution Commences
• 4 The Commencement of School Duties
• 5 Learning New Lessons
• 6 Thanksgiving Day
• 7 Promoted
• 8 Christmas at the Institution
• 9 The New Year—Encountering Difficulties
• 10 Some Glimpses into the Condition and Doings of Deaf-Mutes
• 11 Easter Sunday
• 12 The Annual Examination
• 13 Going Home to Spend Vacation
• 14 School Duties Resumed
• 15 Dozing, and Other Incidents
• 16 Some Unexpected Events
• 17 A Picnic, and How It Ended
• 18 Closing Exercises of the Term
• 19 The Opening of Another Term
• 20 The Magic-Lantern Entertainment
• 21 Friendships
• 22 The Ending of Another Year
• 23 Public Exhibitions
• 24 Spiritual Interests
• 25 Some Birthday Customs
• 26 The Sad End of Two Runaways
• 27 Some Happenings
• 28 The Library—Its Contents—Their Uses and Value
• 29 Some Little Incidents
• 30 A Description of the New Building
• 31 Persons and Organizations
• 32 Uncounted Blessings
• 33 Pleasures, Tribulations, and Triumphs
• 34 Winning a Prize
• 35 In the Academic Class
• 36 A Pleasant Surprise
• 37 A Departure—Compositions
• 38 Scenes—Gloomy and Gay
• 39 Events of the Passing Time
• 40 Harsh Treatment, and Its Results
• 41 Another Term
• 42 Conclusion