Section II Amelia Wilhelmina Sieveking
“An actual life, that speaks for itself with that force of conviction which pierces like a purifying fire to the conscience, and demands of everyone who hears its voice, an answer, not in words, but in deeds.”
Dr. Wichern.
WOMAN’S RIGHTS.
At the present time the question of woman’s rights is being widely, and in some quarters warmly, discussed. Our serial literature, both at home and abroad, is claiming for woman freedom from all political, social, and legal, disqualifications. That women have legal grievances of a serious nature, cannot for a moment be questioned. How much longer will seduction continue to go unpunished, except as a civil injury and by a fictitious and costly suit! How much longer is woman to bear all the consequences flowing from the sin of two souls, and to be goaded into child-murder or suicide by the monstrous injustice of law! We punish every crime save the wrong that is deepest and most cruel of all. Then again, the absolute right of the husband to the property of his wife, unless secured to her by special settlement, is both cruel and unjust in its practical operation. Anything so injurious to woman ought immediately to be erased from the statute-book. Yet with every disposition to secure for woman all that she can wisely claim, we have no sympathy with those who would draw her into public action in opposition to man to whom she is so closely allied. Some time ago we read that the Aylesbury magistrates had appointed Mrs. Sarah Wooster to the office of overseer of the poor and surveyor of highways for the parish of Illmire, and that during the previous year four women filled similar offices in the Aylesbury district. As surely as a good housewife would give her husband a Caudle curtain-lecture were he to proffer his services in sweeping the floor, dressing the linen, or cooking the dinner, so surely will a good husband cry out against and turn with disgust from a wife who would invade his province. In the sick-room, woman, by her quick perception, her instinctive decision, and her tender sensibilities, may accomplish infinitely more for the well-being of society, than man. For all the services of philanthropy she is peculiarly fitted. The rights of woman do not obtain their due measure of attention even in this country. Nothing but good could possibly accrue from the full acknowledgment of her claims to be educated as well as man is educated, and thus to be provided for the many contingencies to which her sex is subject.
BIOGRAPHY.
Amelia Wilhelmina Sieveking was born at Hamburg, on the 25th of July, 1794. Her father, Henry Christian Sieveking, was a merchant, also a senator of the city, and seems to have been a man of considerable literary cultivation. Of her mother, Caroline Louisa Sieveking, whom she lost before she had completed her fifth year, Amelia retained no distinct recollection. During the illness of Madame Sieveking, Miss Hösch, a niece of her husband’s, entered the family, and, after their mother’s death, carried on the housekeeping, and took charge of Amelia and her four brothers. At an early age she received a succession of dry lessons in writing and arithmetic, French, drawing, music, and when old enough to enter on a more regular course of instruction, Mr. Sieveking gave his daughter her choice between two rationalistic theologians. Amelia had no means of making a choice between them; she had recourse to drawing lots, and the gentleman on whom the lot fell gave her instructions in German grammar and literature, history, geography, and religion. But his method of teaching was so stiff and formal, that he soon lost the affection and respect of his pupil.
Up to the time of her father’s death, in 1809, her education had been so badly conducted as to awaken positive dislike in the child’s mind, and her religious instruction in particular was so defective as to leave her not only without joy, but tossed with doubts and difficulties. After the death of her father, as he left no property, the family was scattered, and Amelia was put to board with a Mdlle. Dimpfel, a very pious but ill-educated person. Her Bible, however, the old lady knew from beginning to end, and had the happy art of telling Bible stories in such a way as to interest the young. Her dependent position deprived her of all paid tuition, and she had to work at ornamental needlework for her maintenance. About this time, although she had not learnt to know Christ as the Son of God, as her Redeemer, and the only source of happiness, she was nevertheless confirmed. In 1811 she went to live with Madame Brünnemann, an excellent and kind-hearted woman. Her duties consisted in reading aloud to an invalid son, and assisting his mother in the household. The son died in September of the same year, and Amelia could not leave the poor mother in her bereavement. It was arranged that an aged aunt of Madame Brünnemann’s should take up her abode with them, but she fell ill and died. From this lady and Madame Brünnemann, Amelia inherited a small sum of money, which, together with a pension from a fund for the daughters of deceased senators, supplied her modest requirements and insured her independence.
The many losses and calamities brought on Hamburg in consequence of the French occupation in 1812, led her to retrench her expenditure by doing her own washing. For a whole summer she washed all her own clothes in secret. She also endeavoured to learn dressmaking and cooking, and besides these household accomplishments, gave some attention to others of more use in society; but the instruction of youth was the only vocation that seemed to satisfy both her intellect and heart.
In 1817 her brother Gustavus died at Berlin while studying for the ministry. He was the nearest in age to herself, and had been her chief and favourite companion. The stroke was heavy, and intensely felt. Amelia herself says, “I had not felt so deeply the death of my father, still less that of my elder brother. This profound grief became a turning-point in my life.” At the pressing invitation of her now, alas! only brother and sister-in-law, she visited London in June, and found refreshment for her own heart at the sight of their domestic happiness. Soon after her return from England, the house next to the one where she lived in the city was burned down, and five persons perished in the flames. This event impressed her deeply. Thomas à Kempis’s “Imitation of Christ” now fell into her hands, and its devout and tender teachings shed a balm over her wounded spirit. She sought explanations of the Bible from all the books that came in her way; but unfortunately they were all rationalistic in their tone, and gave no light. At last Francke’s “Preface to the Bible” fell into her hands, and there she was taught to compare the different passages one with another, and to apply all she read to herself by prayer. She was hungering and thirsting after righteousness, and the promised blessing was soon to be hers. In June, 1819, she says: “I feel myself now strongly inclined to adopt the orthodox doctrine which I have so long rejected, but I must have clearer light on it first.” That clearer light was soon given to her, in conversations with an evangelical pastor of the name of Rautenberg, and at last she arrived at childlike faith in “that most comforting doctrine of atonement.”
The biographer of Miss Sieveking, in a memoir in itself of unusual interest and value, by means of apt quotations from her diary and letters, has presented us with a very complete portraiture of her outer and inner life. From these extracts we learn, that in her early years she was in the habit of casting lots, when in difficulty as to the path of duty; but in after-life she discontinued the practice. Doubtless, like many others, she was led to feel that we have no right to ask for a sign in circumstances which are sent to train us in the use of our judgment. We also find her complaining of a certain slowness and awkwardness in the transaction of business, which often prevented her from managing all her household and social duties to her satisfaction.
Miss Sieveking published several works. These were for the most part merely transcripts of the religious instruction given to her pupils. They were read in many circles, and met with very different receptions; but they certainly contain a vast amount of practical wisdom and judicious suggestions on the whole subject of charitable work, and organizations of women for that purpose.
Amid these varied labours and experiences, one thought was ripening in her soul. She had read a little French book in which there was much said of the sisters of charity among the Roman Catholics, and it awakened in her a strong desire to found such a sisterhood in the Protestant Church. She had been led to this by the fact, that in hundreds of instances unmarried women are not permitted to do the good to which their hearts impel them, because they have not the settled position which would be given by a definite calling, recognised as such by the world without. With a longing after this work which had only increased in intensity from being so long pent up within, we cannot but admire the Christian wisdom and moderation with which she viewed the matter, even when encouraged by the approval of friends.
In the autumn of 1824, Miss Sieveking became acquainted with Pastor Gossner, a Bavarian by birth, who had been a priest in the Roman Catholic Church, but by deep study of the holy Scriptures had been converted to the evangelical doctrines. This good and great man gave a new and powerful impulse to her aspirations after what now floated before her as the future vocation of her life. Charitable work now engaged so much of her thought and sympathy that her health, usually so strong, began to give way; but the water of Ems proved beneficial, and old strength and fresher looks returned. In 1826, Professor Tscharner of Berne, who had been imprisoned in his own country, was giving lectures in Hamburg, and Miss Sieveking spent many happy hours with himself, his wife, and his son. Here also, in 1828, she became intimately acquainted with the celebrated Neander, of Berlin.
Nursed amid the sultry climes of India, where it periodically slays its thousands and tens of thousands, the cholera seems occasionally to take migratory and comet-like excursions to Europe, spreading on every hand sickness, death, lamentation, and dismay. In 1831, it suddenly appeared in Hamburg; and Miss Sieveking felt constrained to take a step which, in the eyes of the world, had something unusual in it, and was judged by that world accordingly. With the full consent of her adopted mother, she offered her gratuitous services as nurse in the French wards of the town hospital. She also inserted in a journal an appeal to other females to offer themselves for the same work, but her letter found no response. Our own Florence Nightingale had not yet set the example of a lady voluntarily consecrating herself to such an office.
The labours in which Miss Sieveking now engaged form a deeply interesting chapter in the history of philanthropy, but they must not be detailed here. Suffice it to say that her society was attended with the most blessed results. She at first found some difficulty in obtaining coadjutors, although she required nothing “beyond sound sense, a certain amount of bodily strength, and a knowledge of domestic matters—except love to the cause and a living principle of Christianity.”
Miss Sieveking’s robust bodily constitution and elastic spirits enabled her for many years to sustain the pressure of charitable work in its many branches. But in 1857, her strength began to fail; the physicians were unanimous in advising a journey to some watering-place, and Soden, near Frankfort-on-the-Maine, was recommended. In 1858, her active employments were gradually and with great reluctance given up, and for many months she had to learn the harder lesson of waiting patiently on the Lord in weakness and suffering.
On the 1st of January, 1859, she felt so ill, that she took leave of her servants with the words, “We part in tears, but we shall meet again with smiles.” Some time afterwards, her physician, at the request of her nephew, Dr. Sieveking, in London, examined the state of her lungs, and declared that he found things even worse than he expected; one half of the lungs was entirely gone, and only so much left as that, with entire silence and perfect rest, her life might perhaps be prolonged for a short time. Miss Sieveking thanked him, but remarked that as long as she was alive, she would act like a living person, and see and speak to her friends. On the 1st of April, after the reading of the psalm, “Like as the hart panteth after the water brooks,” she folded her hands, and said, “My Lord! my Lord!” Her work on earth was done, and she entered on the higher service above.
In order to conquer the prejudice of the poor people against a pauper funeral, she had desired to be buried as a poor person; and out of respect to her wishes, the plain coffin, made of four black boards, was carried by the two appointed pauper bearers, on the pauper’s bier, to the churchyard of the parish of Ham and Horn, and set down on the church path. It was soon covered with flowers and garlands, while a vast assembly, composed of all classes, flocked out of the city and the suburbs. Pastor Rautenberg spoke some impressive words, and the minister of the parish, Pastor Mumssen, uttered the concluding prayer and blessing. Then, as if from the depths, arose the chant of the brethren and the children, and amidst the sounds of the doxology and the apostolic benediction, the coffin was lowered into the vault of the Sieveking family.
AMATEUR TEACHING.
The children’s world was Miss Sieveking’s element, and she therefore felt happy among them. It was while attending confirmation classes that she began her career as a teacher. Among those who received the instructions of the clergyman, was a peasant girl, whom she found weeping under a tree, because unable to read aloud like the other scholars. Miss Sieveking offered to teach her, and for some time she came regularly for lessons, but after a while, probably finding the distance from home too great, she appeared no more. The impulse to work and make herself useful never slumbered in Miss Sieveking’s heart. She often fetched the little daughter of the family that lived in the same house into her room, to instruct her in knitting, and when the governess was leaving, she asked permission to educate the second girl. Finding that she could get on better if she had more pupils, and that no one had any objection to make, she took six others from families of her acquaintance, and at the age of eighteen began her little school. With what earnestness she set to work is shown in numerous letters to Miss Hösch. Madame Brünnemann’s married daughter had no children, and she had adopted a little girl, whom she was most anxious to place under Miss Sieveking’s tuition; and as the child was much younger than her other pupils, she was obliged to open a second set of classes. About this time, a small circle of ladies, of whom Miss Sieveking was one, established a school, in which twelve poor girls, afterwards increased to eighteen, received gratuitous instruction. She found increasing refreshment in her intercourse with her children, and as she had correct views on the subject of education, she aimed at something higher than the cultivation of the memory, viz., the development of the whole nature. Such training could not fail to sweeten domestic life, and realise the essential elements of a true home. If we would have security, virtue, and comfort in our dwellings, we must give our girls a thorough education.
SERVICES IN THE HOSPITAL.
When that new terror-inspiring spectre of our age approached Hamburg, Miss Sieveking put her services at the disposal of the board of the cholera hospital of St. Eric, on the Hollandisch Brook, and was summoned when the first female patient was brought in. We cannot conceive of a more engaging spectacle than a pious female, who, amid all the abstractions attendant on her rank in society and personal accomplishments, can find time to visit the sick and the dying. At the same time, we must remember that certain duties require certain qualifications. Many excellent women who would spend their fortunes in soothing the sick, cannot bear the sight of blood; and a “rank compound of villainous smells” is to others positive poison. We do not say this to detract from such philanthropic heroines as Miss Sieveking, but in justice to those who would do what she did if they could. To Miss Hösch she thus writes: “I have not the slightest fear of infection; and as far as this danger is concerned, I can enter the hospital as calmly as my school-room. This absence of all dread is unanimously said by the physicians to be the best preventative against illness, and hence, nurses, comparatively speaking, very rarely die from infection. So you see there is no need for you to feel any painful anxiety on my account.” The letters written during the eight weeks she spent in the hospital, given almost entirely by her biographer, present us with a most graphic picture of her life and labours. In the men’s ward, her special duty was to observe what diet was prescribed, and to draw up the daily bill of fare for the housekeeper. She had also charge of all the linen belonging to the attendants. She also occasionally took part in nursing the patients; but the general superintendence was of more importance even in the women’s ward. Although called to the work of Martha, when the hospital afforded her opportunities she gladly engaged in Mary’s work, and was the means of saving at least two young girls from utter ruin, and restoring the one to her aged mother, and the other to a married sister. There was a strong prejudice against her entering upon this kind of work, not only in the outside world, but in the hospital itself; and it required no little wisdom and self-control to take up and keep her right place. However, she was enabled to meet and overcome all difficulties, and when her work ceased to be an experiment and became a success, those who had blamed, praised. On the morning of the day that she left the hospital, she received a formal visit from Dr. Siemssen and Dr. Siemers, accompanied by three other gentlemen of the special commission, when Dr. Siemers, in the name of the rest, made a speech, and then handed her a written address of thanks; and another of a similar kind was sent to her in the afternoon by the General Board of Health.
PROTESTANT SISTERHOODS.
At an early age we catch glimpses of that thought which, in the secret depths of her heart, Miss Sieveking cherished as her possible future vocation. In 1819, she writes in her diary:—“Has not God different vocations for His different creatures, and has not each its own joys? May I not find in mine some compensation for what is denied me elsewhere? To be a happy wife and mother is not mine—then foundress of an order of Sisters of Mercy!” While in the hospital her original plan assumed a more attainable form, and was shortly afterwards carried into execution. The first principles of the plan, however, remained the same, and they are those which have been so thoroughly tested, and so nobly advocated by our own Mrs. Sewell, Mrs. Bayly, Miss Marsh and others,—“personal intercourse with the poor, and the exhibition of a love towards them manifested in action and rooted in faith.” Miss Sieveking believed that under their rough exterior, the poor had considerable intelligence, and knew whether their visitors thought them fools or not. We sometimes blush to see how well-meaning men and women unwittingly insult the working classes in their efforts to do them good; there was no shrinking at dirt or personal infirmities—no talking down to or patronizing those whom she visited,—with Miss Sieveking. She treated them as human beings.
This new kind of labour for the good of the poor, was attended with the most blessed results. At first she met with many refusals. One considered herself too much tied by her household duties, another was afraid of the objections of her family, and a third was alarmed at the difficulties of the undertaking. But the Lord strengthened her to persevere, and by degrees led her to find some who formally bound themselves to take part in the work. In May, 1832, the members,—thirteen in number, and all voluntary workers from private families, six married women and seven unmarried,—met for the first time at Miss Sieveking’s home. Many perils threatened the young institution. It would be strange not to find a new thing objected to. The medical men were the greatest barrier. But by-and-by they changed their minds, and many of them recommended their poor patients to Miss Sieveking. In a few years the number increased to thirty-three visiting members, besides other ladies who undertook on certain days of the week to cook for invalids. The public confidence in the work so increased that contributions of all kinds were forthcoming as soon as wanted.
The great fire of Hamburg in 1842, gave occasion for the enlargement of the Amalienstift. The association erected two large white houses, each comprising twenty-four tenements, which were incorporated with the one already existing as the Amalienstift. At the celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the association, she stated that she had no fears for her work; she believed it would survive her; for it was built upon the only foundation that ensures permanence—faith in Christ. The idea that filled her whole soul, the raising and ennobling of her sex by works of saving, serving love, had become a fact and a reality. There grew out of the parent stem in Hamburg several kindred institutions; and similar associations on the plan of Miss Sieveking’s have been founded in many cities of Northern Germany, in Switzerland, in the Baltic provinces of Russia, in Sweden, Denmark, and Holland. It was the experience of this eminent philanthropist, as it is the experience of all who have thought carefully on the subject in the light of Scripture, that all higher kinds of benefit to the poor are connected with personal intercourse with them.
SPINSTERS RESPECTABLE, HAPPY, AND USEFUL.
Miss Sieveking had on two occasions cherished in secret those wishes and dreams which probably no young girl is wholly without. In both cases the object was worthy of her regard. She was not likely either to shut her eyes to reason and common sense, and marry a fool; or to flirt with a man, and in consequence die an old maid. In fact she declined an offer of marriage from a man whom many would have looked upon as a desirable match, because he was not after her own heart. She knew that the married life was only beautiful and happy when wisely entered and truthfully lived. In December, 1822, she writes:—“Doubtless it is sweet to be loved by a truly good man with his whole heart, and to give one’s self to him in return. I can understand this, and I am not unsusceptible to the happiness of the wife and mother; on the contrary, their joys seem to me among the sweetest and highest on earth.” Yet she well knew, that the married state was not essential to the respectability, happiness, and usefulness of woman. In novels and in Campe’s book, “A Father’s Advice to his Daughters,” she found marriage represented as the only proper destiny for a girl; but something within her secretly protested against that view. Yes; to her it constantly grew clearer that an all-bounteous God could not have given His blessing to one state of life alone, but must have a blessing for each. God had evidently reserved her for another career; and, like many other spinsters, she was unquestionably respectable, and evidently enjoyed more real happiness, and was more extensively useful, than numbers of married females. The marriage relation must be rightly used or it turns to evil. Some young men marry dimples, some ears, some noses; the contest, however, generally lies between eyes and hair. The mouth, too, is occasionally married; the chin not so often. Some of the most haughty, cold, equable, staid, indifferent, selfish creatures in the world are wives; and some of the noblest women are spinsters.
CHARACTER OF MISS SIEVEKING.
In stature Miss Sieveking scarcely reached the middle size; was sparely made; mercurial in all her motions; and very short-sighted. There was nothing remarkable in the head or forehead. Her figure was easily recognised from a distance, as she hurried along the streets, generally with a heavy basket of books and papers. Never arrogant in her dress, she was always neat and clean; cared little for fashion or elegance, and believed firmly that freedom consisted in having few wants. She was not handsome or graceful, in the ordinary sense of the words; and never wasted time over her toilet.
Mentally Miss Sieveking was simply a woman of good sense, conversant with tangibilities; but singularly ill fitted to calculate regarding the invisible elements of power by which the tangible and the material are moved and governed. She was not in any respect a genius; but eminently a matter-of-fact woman. Her knowledge of the human heart was profound, but her insight into individual character was not remarkable. She was, however, right in believing that most women underrate their own powers; and that besides discharging the duties which the conjugal and filial relations bring with them, they would do well to develope a different kind of activity, in schools, churches, and charitable societies.
Her character morally was of a high order. Few persons are so exactly what they profess to be as she was. Once she fell asleep in church, and when her brother charged her with it, denied it out of shame: but she could get no peace until she acknowledged the fact. In her conscientiousness and self-control, the earnestness which she carried into the smallest matters, the diligence with which she followed every good work, her severity towards herself and mildness towards others,—she may serve as a pattern to her sex. The great idea of compassionate and ministering love which was embodied in the life and work of Amelia Sieveking, is an idea which can and will set woman free—not from the restraints of law and custom, not from her vocation of quiet retirement and domestic virtue, but from the dominion of vanity, of false appearances, and of self-love. Naturally impetuous and impatient, at times sharp and abrupt, and prone to carry out her own will, she might have turned all her faculties to bad account. But by careful moral culture she built up a noble character, and in the language of her biographer, “Hamburg accounted it an honour and a joy to call Amelia Sieveking her own.”