BLACKWELL FAMILY ELIZABETH BLACKWELL From Gould (Julia F.)[*Julia F. Gould*] [*Gould*] Santa Barbara Cal. Augst 4, 1885. My dear Dr. Elizabeth, It is such a very long time since I have either written to or heard from you, that except for Dr. Emily's assurances that a letter from me would give you pleasure, I should have hesitated about re opening the communication between us. Many years, I believe must be bridged over in a few sentences, before you can take me up again, in friendly interest, where I am now - no longer a dreamy young girl, with vague and unfulfilled aspirations, but a middle aged woman, with the burdens and cares, and many of the pleasures of active practical life about me. I have learned something in these years,and am glad to feel that they have brought me more than they have taken away. I have lived over and beyond many vain visious, and am content to find myself beloved and useful in a small sphere. I think you would be sorry for my mother were you to see her now. Her body lives but her mental powers are badly impaired. The care of her is onerous at times, for she is in the border land between sanity and imbecility, and cannot yet be left to other hands than mine. She is quite an aged woman - seventy five years old. And yet, bad as it is, it is in some ways easier than the relations between us used to be. She has no power any more to spoil my life, and patience is comparatively easy, because of the pitifulness of her present condition. But you will wonder why I am in this beautiful, but far away, land separated from all my friends, and the many interests which have heretofore made my life. A more complete contrast to a large city can hardly be imagined than my surroundings here. My youngest brother, and able fellow, of unusual promise, never very robust, became a physician. He had a brilliant professional future before him, when owing to mental strain and overwork, his health gave way. He fell a victim to that dreadful disease locomotor taxia. He cannot live in New York. The last winter we were in Madison Square was a very trying one in regard to weather, and a very bad one to us, as we were feeling keenly our recent bereavement in the sudden death of my oldest brother's sweet young wife, who had endeared herself to all our hearts in quite a remarkable manner.Poor Fred became rapidly so much worse that we brought him here a year ago last April. It was a time full of uncertainties and anxieties. I was doubtful, even, if he would reach the end of the journey alive. We took a furnished house in the town at first, our New York house being leased for a term of years. But we were not very well satisfied. So, after a few months, when it became evident that my brother could live in this delightful climate in comparative comfort, and may be with us for many years, though always an invalid, feeling the need of a real house, we bought a charming place, four miles from the little town, in the small wooded valley of El Montecito, where we have been living since last December. It is really in the Country, with oh such satisfying views of mountains and Ocean! I have grown to love it very much. We are a small family of three - My Mother, My Brother, and Myself, and the life is necessarily rather a laborious and a monotonous one. Housekeeping here is a much more arduous task than at home, especially when, as in our case, we live four miles from our base of supplies. I find constant watchfulness is needed to ensure domestic comfort. Then, service is costly and unsatisfactory. Many little things which go to the refinement and well being of the home I must do with my own hands, if they be done at all. So what with the care of this large place - eighteen acres, about half of which is woodland - the care of the house, and the charge Mother and Fred, I am quite as busy as is good for me. Mother fusses among the geraniums, drives about, and except for occasionalattacks of extreme restlessness, worse for me perhaps, than for her, seems quite contented. Her memory is about gone, though the critical faculty is still strong, but I do not think she suffers at all. Thanks to this wonderful out door life I keep fairly well, in this climate, where it is never too hot nor too cold for exercise. Our roses are magnificent all the year trough, and except when it rained, our front door was open every day last winter. I have a little saddle horse, the gentlest and easiest of its kind, and find that mode of getting about a great convenience as well as a pleasure. I am not as strong as I should like to be, and the amount of work I do, and the care of every thing in some measure counter balances the good that comes from being out the door so constantly. Fred is most considerate and unselfish. THe chastening hand is laid heavily on him, poor fellow, and yet, there is never a murmur nor a word of complaint. He is still able to go about, though with difficulty, and he sits in the sun, reads a great deal, drives, and leads, of course, a quiet invalid life. Naturally, there are many things from out my former life that I miss, sadly enough. Most of all, my friends. But I get compensations as I go along, in the nearness to Nature, and I cannot but feel it a privilege to be allowed to minister to those nearest me, since the need exists. There are numbers of pleasant young girls, here, whom I have gathered into a weekly Bible class. Every Friday, after our early dinner, I mount my little horse and ride into town to meet them.This is a fertile source of interest and pleasure to me. I joy to make my influence felt over these dear young minds and hearts. I was obliged to go to New York this Spring on a hurried business trip. It was an unfortunate experience for the weather was so inhospitable that I fell ill by the way. I managed, however, to get to see Dr. Emily, who told me about you, gave me your address, and encouraged me to write. You see, I have been obliged to tell you all about myself and my own concerns, because I am so entirely out of the detail of you and yours, in which, nevertheless, I am very much interested. I hope you will write me when you are able, and supply the missing links. Meantime, and always, I beg you to believe that I am most affectionately your friend, Julia F. GouldEl Montecito, June [6?]. 1886 My dear Dr. Elizabeth, It was delightful to get your letter. I felt a thrill of sympathy and admiration as I read how your efforts for the good of the human race were about to be crowned with success. How much you have been allowed to accomplish! In my quiet country life, satisfactory as it is in some of its aspects, there is no denying the fact that occasionally I feel somewhat stranded, as if the tide of the great affairs in which I always take the deepest interest had receded and left me behind. And yet I know that this is not really so, for I hold that high aims and noble purposes may be put into life every where and never fail of sheer effect though seeming to tell more in some places than in others. And so, I amcontented with my lot. Since I last wrote you, my mother, who has been gradually failing mentally for a long time, had entirely lost her mind, and become imbecile. I am searching for a suitable woman to take charge of her, as she has become a great care, and it is getting rather too much for my already slender stock of health. But this is no easy thing to do in this country, where service is regarded in the light of a favor to the employer, and as yet I have not been successful. However, I shall doubtless find the right person before very long, and then I shall feel greatly relieved. My invalid brother is wonderfully improved, thanks to the open air life, and the delightful climate. He can never be well, but still now, he is able to enjoy many things, and life is a blessing, I suppose, even under serious deprivations. You will be glad to learn, I know, that I have formed a friendship here with a woman physician, a graduate of the Philadelphia college. It came to me with a great surprise, because I fancied I should hardly make any more real friends now. I have had them who disappointed me bitterly, and then those whose friendships today makes the joy and comfort of my life. But that out here in this little tucked away corner of the word, I should meet any one like Dr. Belcher is something that I had not looked for. She is a very noble woman in every way - with large views andfine aspirations. She had heard of you, of course, and when I told her about you, and your kindness to me in the days gone by, she was so much interested that I ventured to give her your letter to read, as there was nothing of a personal nature in it. She was very much gratified and pleased. I do feel so glad and satisfied that your Kitty fills so large and important a place in your home life. Truly, you are having your reward for good attempted in faith and love. Wherever you may be this summer, you cannot surely find any thing more beautiful than our present home. The nearness to this wonderful Nature in contrast to the bricks and mortar of a large city, goes far towards reconciling me to the change. There is something unspeakably soothing and helpful to me in my rides on the back of my good little horse. If I am ever allowed to leave here, I shall doubtless miss much of enjoyment in many simple natural wholesome ways. Well, my dear friend, good bye for the present. Shall we ever see each other's faces in this world again, I wonder? Kindest regards to Kitty. Ever yours with affection, Julia F. Gould.Santa Barbara, Feby 9 1890 My dear Dr. Elizabeth, First let me thank you for the pamphlet containing your address, which I read with much interest. I am a good deal out of the tide of human events and affairs in this quiet little tucked away corner of the world, and especially welcome anything which brings me into touch with them again. Our winter has not been so pleasant a one as usual, owing to two months of almost incessant rains, which have deranged all rail roads, and delayed mails, besides making driving an impossibility without the danger of getting mired. We have a very comfortable home, and of course there aregood books, and various occupations, but it has been dull, and not at all good for the invalid brother, who does not complain, but grows depressed, and looks white and frail, missing the freedom of his ordinary out door life. However, the past three weeks has certainly gone far to make amends for the gloom and sullen skies of the earlier winter. Nothing could be more delightful. The country is covered with verdure and wild flowers and ferns, and the acacia trees are veritable pillars of flame, their fragrance filling the air. Then there are roses, and tiny humming birds taking their dainty little meals from them - and violets - and my camelia tree looks like a snow wreath. We feel like prisoners set free. For all this wonderful natural beauty I do feel grateful, and yet, sometimes my mind reverts to the very different interests of my former life. But still, I find I can be of some use here, among these poor plain people, and my duty lies here so that I am quite content. I am going to New York this Spring and although it can be but a brief business trip, I shall probably crowd in some pleasure as well. We have sold our house on Madison Square. It seems the right thing to do, although I acknowledge to a pang over it. This makes it needful that I should superintend the final disposition of all our numerous possessions there, the accumulations of years. It will be a tiresome puzzling work, I know, but if I do not take it in hand we shall all be the losers, perhaps more in our feelings than in our purses. As I have no one to leave in charge of the home here, I must simply do this as quickly as possible, and return in about a month. How I wish I could hope to see you again! But perhaps I may catch a glimpse of Dr. Emily, who is too busy a woman to be a good correspondent, and from whom I have not heard for a long time. I am trying to do something for the elevation of the swarms of Mexican children about us, who are brought up to worthlessness, as a general thing. I have started a sewing school and a Kitchen Garden class for them, but this is not enough. I have on my mind an industrial boarding school, where they can be taken away from their wretched home surroundings for a number of years and given a chance to learn habits of decency and morality. Such a school, too, would benefit the community by solving, at least in a measure, the much aged servant question, which makes so many uncomfortable broken in health housekeepers. But this is in the future. You will be glad to learn, I know, that since my Mother's death I have become not indeed enormously wealthy, but rich enough to supply my own needs amply, and have something besides to use for the help of others. Also, thanks to this delightful climate, and the open air life which it entails, I am in muchbetter health than I used to be. I hope the little Christmas remembrance which I sent you reach you safely. Give my kindest regards to Kitty, and believe me always most affectionately your friend Julia F. Gould