Those Were The Days: Mary Scharlieb, the woman who blazed a trail for millions to follow

In the colonial Madras of 1800s, most if not all doctors were men. Native women shied away from describing their ailments to a male physician and craved for proficient female therapeutic counselling. But those were the times when even England or America was no better. There were no medical schools in Britain that admitted women. In opposition to the first seven female medical students admitted in 1869, the University of Edinburgh Medical School even had an unrest nicknamed the Surgeon’s Hall riot.

But all that was about to transform, and that wind of change had its origin in Madras.

In 1989, when British newspapers celebrated the achievement of Mary Scharlieb, the first lady doctor who qualified from the University of London, most of them also lauded the fact that Mary had received her primary medical licentiate in Madras.

It was a path breaking step by the Madras Medical College to begin admitting women students at a time when Europe was still debating the issue. It was only a year earlier that an institution in the US started admitting women students.

Mary had a deep scar within that would direct her throughout her life. Her mother had died 10 days after her birth, perhaps due to insufficient medical attention. She was also a deeply religious woman who refused to see women suffer on account of cultural restrictions.

At the age of 19, she met William Scharlieb, who was preparing for the Bar and subsequent practice as a barrister in Madras. His bid to marry Mary was initially met with opposition within the family. But Mary persisted and eventually the marriage took place in December 1865. The couple sailed to Madras almost at once.

As William was practising law in Madras, Mary helped in editing a law journal he ran. However, having heard horrifying stories of women enduring pain from diseases under the notion that they would rather die than be examined by a male doctor, a belief was building deep within her that Indian women needed doctors more than legal assistance. The mortality rate of child and mother during childbirth was abysmal and she was constantly reminded of her mother’s plight.

Luckily for the women of the Presidency, Edward Balfour, a visionary with a breath-taking foresight, headed the Medical Service in Madras as the surgeon general. Madras owes its zoo and museum, too, to him. In a memorandum to the Madras government, he advised the authorities to admit women to the medical college at Madras. Despite initial rejection, the recommendation was eventually accepted, allowing 30-year-old Scharlieb and five other women to become the inaugural female medical student line-up at Madras Medical College.

But the girls faced stiff resistance within the college. One of their professors, Bran Foot, even said, “I cannot prevent you walking round the wards, but I will not teach you.” But the situation slowly improved when three other Anglo Indian girls joined. Four of the girls passed the licentiate in 1878, with Scharlieb coming second.

With her eyes fixed on a degree in medicine in London School of Medicine, Mary set sail to England with her children. Aged 37, she received a degree of Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery with honours in all subjects.

She was commanded to Windsor Castle, where Queen Victoria insisted on hearing from her how the women in India, forbidden by their cultural shyness, failed to obtain help from male doctors. Though the Queen expressed her warm approval and interest on the achievements of Mrs Scharlieb in private, it would only be her grandson who knighted the doctor 40 years later. She was the first woman doctor in Britain to be so honoured.

Newly imbued with British medical instruction, Scharlieb returned to India in 1883 and established a hospital in Madras ‘for high caste and Gosha women’. It was called the Royal Victoria Hospital, which is now Government Kasturba Gandhi Hospital. A plaque commemorating her as the 1st superintendent is still there.

An avid diarist, Mary recorded her daily routine carried out in the trying climate of Madras:

‘5.30 am: visits to patients in their houses

7 am: About seventy patients at Hospital and a round of thirty beds; breakfast

12 noon to 1 pm: lecture to women students at the Medical College

1 pm: consultations at home

4 pm: tea and change of clothes, visits to European patients in their houses and perhaps a little relaxation before dinner at 8 pm, and then to bed, often only to be disturbed for two or three successive cases before dawn.’

After living like this for four years, Mary, then in her early forties, went back to England where she practised for a few more decades.

Scharlieb’s influence in the field and society was significant. In 1883, Lord Dufferin became Viceroy of India. Two years later, his wife Lady Dufferin established the Dufferin Fund to train Indian women as medical practitioners. The entry of women in the field of medicine resulted in obstetrics and gynaecology becoming a more advanced medical speciality and resulted in a significant drop in mortality during child birth.

Today, more than a century later, Indian medical colleges admit more women than men. And Mary started it all.