Visits to Some of the Schools for the Deaf and Dumb in France and England - 1846-47

In the American Annals of the Deaf Vol. I, No. 1 October 1847 there appeared an article written by Laurent Clerc. It recounted his trip in 1846 to France. The article was entitled “Visits to some of the schools for the Deaf and Dumb in France and England”. Laurent wrote:

“ I obtained leave of the Directors of the American Asylum to visit France on private business; but I did not avail myself of this permission till the month of August following.”

“On the 8th (August), I embarked at New York on board the packet-ship Argo, Cczpt. Anthony, bound to Havre, accompanied by my younger son, whom I intended to leave with my son (Charles Michael Clerc), whom I intended to leave with relations in Lyons for two or three years, for the purpose not only of enabling him to make further improvement in his knowledge of the French language but all of placing him in a school where the theory of manufacturing silk is taught.”

The SV Argo sailing out of New York City in 1846 was an American wooden sailing vessel specifically engineered for the transatlantic packet trade, operating on a rigid, recurring schedule between the United States and France. It was owned by William Whitlock, Jr. who managed the ship as part of his prominent Havre-Whitlock Line. Le Havre, France was her primary destination, maintaining a strict rotation of three round trips per year between 1841 and 1849. Pier No. 13 East River served as her primary New York berth, with agent operations handled out of Whitlock's office at 46 South Street. Captain Caleb Anthony, Jr. commanded the vessel as its master during this exact era of operation. The ship was part of a Packet Service, meaning the Argo prioritised strict departure dates over waiting for a full hull, guaranteeing reliable transit for mail, high-value freight, and travelers. There was a two tier class system which divided passengers into "cabin passage"—private or semi-private rooms for wealthier travelers—and "steerage," which crammed hundreds of working-class immigrants into tight bunks on the lower 'tween deck. We assume that Laurent was not in steerage.

“Our journey was prosperous and pleasant, and we reached Havre, within twenty-two days, a very rapid passage indeed, which would still have been more rapid had we not had several days of calm.”

“From Havre we proceeded to Paris, two days after landing, by railroad. The railroads in France, and elsewhere the continent, I found in fine order, well managed and very safe. There are policemen in uniform, placed at short distances, whose business is to march to mcl from the post, to see that there is nothing on the road to obstruct it, and to place abar at every crossing to prevent accidents, and sometimes to warn the engineer when he must stop. This information is conveyed to him in this way : When the policeman hears or sees the cars coming, he immediately stands up stands upon the border of the road like a soldier or sentinel, with his hand extended in the direction the cars we going, which means to say go, proceed; if, on the contrary, he wishes to give notice to the engineer to stop, on account of some obstruction which may impede to be o n the road, lie thrusts his hand forward and repeatedly moves it upward and downward, and this is understood by the engineer, who then endeavors to stop, or at least to slacken his progress as much as he possibly can.”

To make the journey in 1846, you would follow a two-part route due to a railroad viaduct being out. The first leg fromLe Havre to Rouen (By Road or River) — You would board a horse-drawn stagecoach (diligence) or a steamship to travel the roughly 90 kilometres from the port of Le Havre to the city of Rouen. This segment was delayed in 1846 due to the catastrophic structural collapse of the Barentin Viaduct during its construction. Laurent does not mention that he got back on a boat so we must assume he took the diligence to Rouen.

Because the horse-drawn diligence or the Seine steamboat took nearly a full day, and the train ride to Paris took another 4 hours, travelers rarely completed the trip in a single day.

If you made this journey in 1846, you would almost certainly spend the night in Rouen, the mandatory transfer point where the road or river leg from Le Havre met the railway line to Paris. Laurent would have stayed in Rouen's historic center and, depending on his budget, in a grand traditional coaching inn, it featured inner courtyards where the stagecoaches arrived, stables for the horses, and upstairs rooms for travelers. Your room would be heated by a small fireplace, lit by oil lamps or candles, and featured heavy wool carpets to keep out the damp Normandy chill. Likely the Hôtel des Diligences

Laurent would have likely eaten at the inn's common table (table d'hôte). In 1846, Rouen was famous for Normandy cheeses, apple cider, and rich duck dishes, giving you a hearty meal before facing the soot and smoke of the locomotive the next morning.

Having to cross the Seine River from the old city center to reach the Gare Saint-Sever on the left bank the day before, your innkeeper would arrange an early-morning return horse cab (fiacre) to transport you and your heavy luggage trunks to the morning train.

After of course was the second leg from Rouen to Paris (By Rail) — From Rouen, you would arrive at the Saint-Sever station. From there, you would board a steam-powered passenger train run by the Compagnie de Paris à Rouen, which had been successfully operating since May 1843.

If you were a passenger on the Rouen-to-Paris section in 1846, your train would pull into the original Gare Saint-Lazare in Paris, which had just been expanded and rebuilt in 1843 to handle the incoming Normandy traffic. Your train would likely be pulled by a British-designed steam engine built locally by Allcard, Buddicom & Cie at their specialized workshops in Rouen. The rail portion of the journey traveled at an average speed of about 37 km/h, making the trip from Rouen to Paris last roughly 4 hours.

On the 1846 train from Rouen, you would arrive at the Embarcadère de l’Ouest (The Western Pier), which was the historical name for the original Gare Saint-Lazare.

“The next day after my arrival in Paris, my first thought was of visiting the Institution for the Deaf and Dnmb. Accordingly I got into the first omnibus that passed by it, and at half past twelve I was set down there. I rung and the door was opened. The entrance was through the lodge of the concierge (door- keeper.) He spoke, and I believe he asked me what I wanted. I told him that I was deaf and dumb and wanted to see the Institution. He said, by spelling with his fingers, that it was now vacation, and there was nothing to see. I told him who I was and whence I came, and insisted upon entering. (‘Ah ! Monsieur C., "exclaimed he, (are you really Monsieur C. ? I know you by reputation and I am glad to have the honor of seeing Monsieur C., but really I cannot let you enter when there is no one to wait upon you. Such are the rules of the Institution, and it is not I who made them. Not liking to be thus treated, I took out my card, and handed it to him. I requested him to hand it to the Director, Monsieur Delanneau. (Adolphe de L'anneau)“

Monsieur Delanneau had served as director of the Saint-Jacques school from 1838 to 1858 and was noted for his defence of sign language. His predecessor, Désiré Ordinaire, had tried to phase out sign language in favour of forced spoken French. When Adolphe de Lanneau took over, he reversed this policy and reduced the role of spoken French, allowing French Sign Language (LSF) to flourish again as the primary language of instruction.

“Monsieur D. has gone to Normandy, answered he. Then hand it to Prof. V. Monsieur V. is in the country. Then to Prof. M. Gone to Strasbourg. Then to Prof. B. Gone to Bordeaux. Then to Prof. L. Gone out to dinner, but will return at two o'clock, And taking off his cap, he invited me to walk into the waiting-room, close to his lodge, assuring me that he would let me know when Prof. L. should return. From the waiting- room, seeing some boys at play, I beckoned to them and they came to me, and I talked with them until Prof. L. made his appearance. He knew me and I him. He gave me a hearty welcome, and ushered me into the Institution, where I beheld about fifty pupils at work in the shops, the others having gone to pass their vacation at home. Of course I had no opportunity of witnessing their exercises in their school-room, but I promised to call again at some future time and bade them goodbye and went away.”

“I soon left Paris for Lyons, where I arrived early in October (1846), and, after spending a few weeks with my friends there, I proceeded to La Balme in Dauphine, my native place, and passed the winter with my sisters, with occasional excursions into the neighboring villages to visit other relations. On my return to Lyons (1847), I twice visited the school for the deaf and dumb. It is located in the western suburbs, and stands upon a bold hill, overlooking the city and a vast range of country, which can only be ascended by a circuitous paved way and on account of the distance and the fatigue of ascending, is but little visited and consequently little known.”

The hill on which it was situated was called the Place des Minimes, a bustling historic square on the Fourvière hill. Local Lyon artists of the 19th century—such as François Bellay—frequently painted scenes of the vibrant daily markets, architecture, and street life.

“The school was established some twenty years since by Mr. Comberry ( Jean François David Comberry)

a deaf and dumb pupil from the Bordeaux Institution, who had previously married a lady that could hear and speak.”

Born on May 20, 1792 in Bordeaux he was the deaf director of the institution for deaf-mutes in Saint-Étienne from 1815, which was transferred to Lyon in 1824. He studied in Bordeaux and then at the National Institute for Young Deaf People at the age of ten]. He trained as a tailor.

In 1815, David applied for a job at the Saint-Étienne town hall , and the mayor offered him the position of director of a school for deaf-mutes. Despite his qualifications, he eventually accepted after much deliberation. The school opened in 1815 and was moved to Lyon in 1824.

“They both died not many years ago, at a short period of time from each other, and left an only daughter endowed with all her senses, whom Mr. Forestier,

a former pupil of the Paris Institution, married not long since. Himself and the lady are now the principals of the school. They had about forty pupils at the time of my visit, nearly as many girls as boys, supported by the bounty of the Department and the generosity of some benevolent persons.”

Claudius Forestier came from a middle-class family of seven children. Claudius's brother, Hyacinthe, was also deaf. In 1819, his parents sent Claudius to the National Institute for Young Deaf People in Paris where he met students Ferdinand Berthier and Lucien-François Guillemont (known as Benjamin) and had Auguste Bébian as his teacher.

He was one of Bébian's most brilliant students at the Institution de Paris, where he was a student from 1820 to 1826. At the age of eight, he distinguished himself for his erudition on the Italian Wars. Dr. Blanchet said of him that his gentleness and common sense made him "the angel of the Institution de Paris." Between 1826 and 1829, he held the position of monitor and tutor, then teacher and supervisor, at the National Institute for Deaf Youth, despite his numerous requests for a professorship, which he never obtained. In 1833, he left to become a professor at the mixed institution for deaf-mutes in Lyon, founded by David Comberry. He then became its director while retaining his teaching position. He later acquired a building to establish an institution for deaf boys in Lyon; Claudius managed this institution, and his wife, Agathe Comberry, managed the deaf girls.

Claudius participated in the Congress of Milan in September 1880 . In addition, he helped to organize the first Congress of Deaf-Mutes held in Paris in 1889.

“I saw nothing there worth mentioning, except that Mr. F, had the sole superintendence of the establishment and was assisted in the instruction of his pupils by two other young men, deaf and dumb like himself, and Madame Forestier that of the girls, with the assistance of two females also deaf and dumb. In fact, there was no one save Mrs. F. that could hear and speak, servants of both sexes being likewise deaf and dumb. This is, I believe, the only school of this kind in the world. I examined some of the scholars, in compliance with the request of the teachers, and found they had made pretty good proficiency; but I took the liberty of advising Mr. Forestier to associate with him a clergyman, a gentleman of respectability and talents, who could hear and speak, for the greater prosperity of the school and the better improvement of the children in written language and religious knowledge; my opinion being that, however instructed a deaf and dumb person might be, he was still less so than those who hear and speak. But he did not appear disposed to adopt my suggestions; so I bade him good bye and departed, not without wishing him all the success he merited, in spite of his pretensions.”

“I had also an opportunity of visiting, another day, two other schools for the deaf and dumb, at St. Etienne, a large city about sixty miles south of Lyons, famous for its manufactures of ribbons and its mines of coal and iron. One of the schools is located in the eastern part of the city, and contained, at the time of my visit, upwards of fifty poor girls, under the care of four or five sisters of charity. The home which they occupied was beautifully situated and overlooked the city and country. The girls appeared happy and contented, and were making very respectable progress in their studies, but I remarked nothing extraordinary in the system of instruction, it being derived from that pursued in the other schools of France, and the ladies had learned it from some educated deaf and dumb. I had a short discussion with one of these ladies with respect to abstract qualities. For instance, I maintained that white was the color which we saw in objects : but that we did not see whiteness,as we had only received the impression of it, and wed kept the remembrance or image of it in our minds. She thought differently and tried to convince me, but to no purpose, that we saw both white and whiteness with our bodily eyes.”

In 1846, Saint-Étienne, France, was home to the Saint-Étienne School for the Deaf, originally founded in 1815, by our friend Jean-Baptiste Comberry.: Uniquely for the early 19th century, the school accepted both deaf boys and deaf girls.

The institution was highly regarded for its instruction in French Sign Language. In 1846, the Saint-Étienne School for the Deaf was being transitioned into a new era of leadership. Following the death of its deaf founder, David Comberry, in 1834, the institution began to struggle financially and administratively. To save the school and ensure its continuity, administration was transferred to two separate Catholic religious entities by 1845–1846. The “Boys' Department” was taken over by the Frères des Écoles Chrétiennes (De La Salle Christian Brothers). In preparation for taking over the school in Saint-Étienne, the Superior General of the order had specifically sent four of his Brothers to train at the prestigious Royal School for the Deaf in Paris to master deaf education methods. The “Girls' Department” was placed under the care of the local Sœurs de la Charité (Sisters of Charity), building upon the early foundational work laid by the school's original female educator, Sister Sainte-Anne Perrin.

“On inquiring of these kind ladies how their school was supported they answered: ‘By Divine Providence’ Upon further inquiring by whose instrumentality Divine Providence thus supported it, they gave no answer, but I guessed their modesty; for I was informed elsewhere that some of these excellent sisters had inherited a considerable property, and that instead of employing their nobility to live the lives of the rich, they had chosen to practise the precept of our Lord, who said that it was more blessed to give then to receive. What benevolence is this! And how few we see in the world disposed to do the like!

The other school, for boys, is located in the western part of the city, in one of the wings of a splendid seminary where young men are educated for the priesthood. Two of the brothers residing in this institution were charged with the task of teaching those poor boys, who numbered about ten; the school for their reception was opened too short a time since to permit me to speak of it with justice.”

The institution was the Saint-Louis Seminary (historically housing the Pensionnat Saint-Louis), located in the western portion of Saint-Étienne, France. Originally established as a religious house and school run by the Frères des Écoles Chrétiennes (De La Salle Christian Brothers), the vast complex prepared young men for religious life and provided high-level schooling. When the city's secular deaf school began facing severe financial collapse in 1845, the municipality and the De La Salle Brothers integrated the boys' curriculum directly into their network. The Brothers, who had specifically undergone rigorous training at the Royal Institution for the Deaf in Paris, designated this western Saint-Étienne sector as their central powerhouse for educating impoverished deaf boys.

“One day, in walking through Lyons, seeing a crowd of persons reading a notice stuck on the wall at the corner of a street, I had the curiosity to examine it. It announced that; Mr. La Fontaine would give in the evening, at the Hotel Du Nord, an exhibition of experimental magnetism, at which he would operate ona young girl and present the physical phenomena of magnetism, and produce ecstasy under the influence of music; that he would also introduce a deaf and dumb young man of Lyons, whom he said he had succeeded in making hear by magnetism, and submit to the magnetical operation many other deaf and dumb, whom he would try to enable to hear also. I immediately concluded to attend the exhibition, and to request Mr. La Fontaine to experiment upon me, should he succeed, that the operation might be decisive; but, as says the proverb, what I proposed, God disposed; for I was prevented from attending by the sudden illness of my son. I however visited the deaf and dumb the next day to learn the result of the experiment, and they told me that it had been a complete failure.”

In 1842 the French mesmerist Charles Lafontaine visited Leicester during a tour of Britain. After calling together a number of medical practitioners ‘to witness and take part in a preliminary trial’ of its effects, he held a public demonstration in the parlour of the Town Hall (The Guildhall at that time), reported in detail in the Leicestershire Mercury (26 February 1842). Here he conducted a variety of experiments on the young woman accompanying him on the tour, beginning with ‘a series of manipulations, passing his hands a number of times over the head, face, shoulders etc.; his movements becoming more rapid as he proceeded. During this operation, the young lady gradually passed into a state of slumber’. To demonstrate that ‘insensibility was now almost complete,’ she was then pierced by needles in various places, but ‘manifested no sign of feeling’. A lighted match was held to her nostrils, ‘but she only sighed.’ Her feet were raised from the floor and remained outstretched, and an arm was also extended, holding a weight. A pistol was fired close to her ear, ‘but she scarcely moved,’ and ‘did not stir’ when it was fired again. An electric shock was then administered - after first being applied to the Town Clerk ‘to test its strength.’ This was said to produce ‘only a slight trembling, which would be occasioned even in a corpse’.

These experiments, with additional features, were repeated during a second demonstration that attracted ‘a much more numerous audience’ a few days later. A request to the young woman to sing was only partly successful, prompting a member of the audience to say (after Hotspur in Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part I), “You may call spirits from the vastly deep, but will they come?” ...’. When her forehead was pierced ‘till the blood ran down in two streams’, she showed no sign of feeling, but this produced a ‘sickening shudder... and some exclamations of displeasure’ on the part of the audience. A youth fainted when a needle was inserted under a fingernail, to cries of ‘No, no’ from those present. M. Lafontaine had previously ‘magnetised’ a number of girls brought to him at his inn at his request, two of whom – aged around 15 and 13 -also appeared on the platform on this occasion, with the promise that ‘pins should not be thrust into them [but] they might be tickled’. The tickling had no effect – but when a male member of the audience volunteered to be mesmerised, M. Lafontaine agreed but said ‘he did not expect success, and the correctness of his opinion was verified by the result’ (Leicestershire Mercury, 5 March 1842).

(to be continued)

Visits to Some of the Schools for the Deaf and Dumb in France and England - 1846-47 - Part 2

(Continued from the last number)

“Another day, being at the country seat of a friend of mine at the foot of the mountains which separate France from Switzerland, I was told by the landlord that there was in village a poor woman about thirty years old, deaf and d from birth, who had never seen any deaf and dumb person, that she could hardly make herself understood by others, except by her aged mother with whom she lived. I expressed the desire to see her, as I believed I could talk with her. It would be of no use, as she was rather idiotic; but I insisted and she was sent for, and came in the evening. There were several ladies present at my friend's, besides a number of gentlemen, among whom were the curate of the village, the not the judge of the peace and the physician; all very anxious to see how far it was possible for an educated deaf and dumb son to talk with an uneducated one. They were them as ignorant as that poor woman; for they did not imagine that the language of signs was universal and as simple as nature herself. At length, she made her appearance. She was a common woman, very awkward in her manners, and rather bashful than bold. I had scarcely cast a glance at her, I pronounced her to be a woman of considerable intelligence that she wanted nothing but some one capable of arousing intellectual faculties, too long kept undeveloped. The company were seated in a circle by a brilliant fire; for it was winter, and when the poor woman had taken her seat opposite I immediately entered into conversation with her, all eyes became fixed upon us both. I began with informing her that I was deaf and dumb like herself, that there were a great many others in the world besides ourselves, that there were schools for where they were taught to write and read, that I could myself, that I had gone a great way off to teach others that I had returned and was glad to see her. I showed how we spelled with our fingers, and described many things that she appeared to understand very well. She was in astonishment and much pleased with all I said.

I then asked her what she did and how she passed her time, and she said that she led the cows of her neighbors to pasture, and took care of them and milked them morning and evening, made butter and cheese, spun in the evening, and helped her mother or friends in their domestic concerns. We talked on many other subjects, but it would take too much time to report them here. This scene was a very interesting one to my friends. They admired especially the striking accuracy with which we designated things by gesticulation.

I was asked whether I believed she had any idea of God, for the curate said she came to church punctually and regularly, and seemed to be very pious. I answered that I thought she did nothing but imitate what she saw other people doing, and that if she had any idea at all of a Supreme Being, she hardly could know his attributes; nor did I believe she had any notion of the immortality of her own soul. I was then desired to ascertain whether she could distinguish right and wrong. I accordingly questioned her, and her answers convinced me that she had rather vague ideas on this subject. When I asked her what would become of good and bad men after death, she pointed to heaven as the place where good men would go, and to the fire before us, where wicked men would burn until they were wholly consumed. I feigned to steal or to kill, and then asked her if what I had just done was good or bad. She said bad; and pointed to the fire; she gave the same answer to other bad actions: to the fire, to the fire. I inquired what in her would go to the fire; she said; her body. I further asked her what in her body made her think and will, and she said: " Something in my head and hearť that she could not explain. I moreover asked her who had made her, and she answered: " my mother." And who had made her mother, she answered; " her mother and so on. And who was that man whom she saw on the cross in church? A good man whom her mother had told her that wicked men had nailed there. What for? She could not say, nor could she say what else he was. Here our conversation ceased. Here I must say that had she had any intercourse with other deaf and dumb persons, or had her parents or friends taken any interest in her in her childhood, she would be otherwise than she was now, even without having attended school, and would have learned a great deal. I therefore think it necessary, nay, indispensable, that for humanity and Christ's sake, we all who are more blessed, should occupy ourselves more than we do, with founding everywhere schools for the instruction and education of these unfortunate beings.

I learned the next day that I had involuntarily rendered that poor woman unhappy. She cried, and would go to school with me, and lead the cows to pasture no longer.

After my return to Paris, in May, 1847, it was not long before I again repaired to the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb; so great was my desire to see the teachers among their pupils in their respective school rooms. I took care to arrive early in the forenoon, that I might be present at the beginning of the school. Here I will inform such of my readers as may not know it, that in the Catholic countries of Europe, it is not

the custom as in the United States, England and elsewhere, to admit males and females together into private or public institutions, schools or seminaries. They generally occupy separate buildings, and are taught by persons of their own sex. No wonder, therefore, that I did not see more than seventy boys coming out of their workshops and going into their respective classes.

The first class which I happened to visit was that of Prof. Berthier, a former pupil of mine under the Abbe Sicard, and now the senior teacher in the Royal Institution, who has since distinguished himself so much as to be the author of a great number of pamphlets and biographies, and the writer of several addresses delivered on certain public occasions. He made me sit by him, and we had so much to speak of, that we little”

Ferdinand Berthier (30 September 1803 – 12 July 1886) was a French deaf educator, intellectual and political organiser in nineteenth-century France. He was one of the earliest champions of deaf identity and culture.

Born in 1803 in the town of Louhans, Saône-et-Loire, France, Berthier first attended the Institut National de Jeunes Sourds de Paris as a young student in 1811, when the school was under the directorship of Abbé Roch-Ambroise Sicard. He

came from the rural south-east of France to learn basic vocational skills and literacy to prepare him for work as a tradesman.

He was influenced by his teacher Roch-Ambroise Auguste Bébian, a hearing man who had learned French Sign Language and published the first systematic study and defense of the language. Berthier was also influenced by two important deaf students of the school who later became teachers: Jean Massieu and Laurent Clerc. By the age of 27, Berthier had become one of the more senior professors at the school.

In late 1837, Berthier created Société Centrale des Sourds-muets (the Central Society for Deaf-mutes) bringing together "all the deaf spread across the globe... to put speaking and deaf men of intelligence and heart in rapport with each other, no matter the distance, no matter the difference in language, culture and laws.” It supported deaf working with "mutual aid" and a way to organize and attend adult education classes. Berthier performed a delicate balancing act as a passionate defender of deaf identity and sign language under a repressive social and political climate. He also wrote books about deaf history and deaf culture, noting deaf artists and sign-language poets of his time. He recruited affluent hearing benefactors in order to support deaf people.In 1849, he became the first deaf person to receive the Chevalier de la Légion d'honneur, the highest French order of merit.

“...thought of his pupils, who were then sitting at their desks studying their lessons. After taking a bird's eye view of them, I stepped into the next room, which happened to be that of Prof. Vaisse, a fine gentleman of about forty, who hears and speaks,”

In 1846, Professor Léon Vaïsse, (later to become the director of Institut National de Jeunes Sourds de Paris in 1859) was teaching the oral method in this classroom. He was a highly influential French educator, linguist, and administrator who played a pivotal role in the shift toward "oralist" methods (speech and lip-reading) in deaf education during the 19th century.

”whom the late Rev. Dr. Milnor, some twenty years since, on his return from Europe, brought with him (Léon Vaïsse) as an assistant teacher in the New York Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, where he remained a few years and then returned to Paris.”

The Rev. Dr. James Milnor (1773–1845) was an influential evangelical Episcopal rector of St. George's Church in New York and served as the President of the Board of Directors for the New York School for the Deaf.

“From Prof. V's room, I was ushered into another under Prof. Lenoir, a deaf and dumb gentleman of uncommon attainments, thence into another, and so on, until I had visited all the rooms.”

Alphonse Lenoir was a prominent 19th-century Deaf professor and intellectual at the Institut National de Jeunes Sourds de Paris (the National Institute for Deaf Children in Paris). Alongside other major figures like Ferdinand Berthier and Claudius Forestier, Lenoir played an essential role in pioneering Deaf culture, civil rights, and bilingual education in France. Following the July Revolution of 1830, Alphonse Lenoir and Ferdinand Berthier made an audacious political move. In November 1830, they secured a personal audience with King Louis-Philippe to directly present a petition demanding the reinstatement of their beloved hearing supporter and educator, Auguste Bébian. This was a groundbreaking act that braved the strict institutional hierarchy of the time. To further advocate for their cause, Lenoir and Berthier co-published an influential article on November 14, 1830, titled “The Deaf Demand Their Teacher Bébian of King Louis Philippe” in the publication The People's Sentinel. Lenoir was one of the three primary educators who organized the historic November 1834 banquet to celebrate the birth anniversary of Abbé Charles-Michel de l'Épée (the founder of the school). This event is widely recognized by historians as the "birth of the Deaf-Mute nation" and marked the first organized development of a conscious Deaf community and history in France.

“It was, on that day, a visit of mere formality; of course I could not bestow much attention on all I saw. But I promised myself the pleasure of calling again as often as would suit the convenience of the gentlemen to receive me, hoping to be then more at home, and to give less trouble and cause less interruption. Accordingly, I returned the next day, especially to witness the performances of Prof. V., who had been chosen, or rather, as I was told, who had offered to devote at least an hour, four times a week, before school hours, for a reasonable compensation, to teach articulation. About twenty pupils, therefore, selected from among the most capable, were formed into one class, and entrusted to the care of Prof. V. Candid readers, pray tell me, can you conceive it possible for one man to teach articulation to as many as twenty deaf and dumb boys at once, with advantage to themselves? I myself think it hardly possible; however, Prof. V. says it is possible, even easy, provided he perseveres in his enterprise, and his pupils are attentive enough to follow the motion of his lips, and he begged me not to speak of impossibility in presence of his pupils, for fear of discouraging them! I of course kept silence, and Prof. V., having required their attention, just as he was going to commence, he made them articulate a , e , i , Oy u ; then ba, be , bi, bo, bu ; then ca, ce, ci, co, cu, etc. They, according to Prof. V., repeated very well. Then some short words, as key, knife , watch, hat, cat, dog, ox, cow etc. And he had scarcely gone with the same vowels and words from one to five pupils, when I took the liberty to stop him, as I had seen how much time it took him to go through. And while he was thus engaged with one pupil, then with another, it was very difficult, if not impossible, to keep the other pupils still and attentive; so, it was very often that I saw him say to them by signs: Boys, boys! - Hush, boys! - Be still, boys! - Stop, boys, do not make so much noise.

I then took a small slate, with the permission of Prof. V., and wrote a short sentence on it, and requested him to dictate it by speech to two of his most forward pupils; one of whom, after the second repetition, wrote it quite correctly; but it must be remarked that he was not deaf from birth, and that he could spell many words before he came to school; the other did not succeed so well, although he had been under constant instruction for upwards of a year. I had witnessed enough and did not wish to witness more, being more than ever convinced of the little benefit to be derived from articulation, in comparison with the advantage of being able to express one's ideas in written language, which can be acquired in a much shorter time.”

My next visit, another day, was to the pupils of Prof. Morel, who hears and speaks, a gentleman of great talents, the editor of the Annals of the Education of the Deaf and Dumb, and the professor of the class of perfection, so called, i. e., of the highest class in the Institution. It may be proper here to say something about the origin of this class of perfection , and what its object is. It originated in the wish of the late celebrated Dr. Itard, the resident physician of the institution for about thirty years; an old bachelor who, by his industry and eminence, acquired a great deal of money, not from the unfortunate deaf and dumb, but from a numerous class of patients among the nobility and gentry, and bequeathed the greatest part, if not the whole of his fortune, to the institution, with this provision in his will, that the interest on the capital, should be employed for the support and tuition during two years, of a certain number of such pupils as, at the expiration of six years, should be found to have excelled others in learning, but who still wanted more time to perfect themselves in written language; and it is in conformity with his design that this class of perfection was thus created soon after his death. Prof. M., as his talents well qualified him for the purpose, was appointed the fortunate professor of this privileged class. He had eight or ten pupils, a few of whom I recollect having seen at my visit of 1835-6. Prof. M. was exercising them in the geography of Europe, and they all answered and described remarkably well. The hour for dismissing school, having arrived, I deferred my examination of them on other subjects.”

Édouard Morel (1805–1882) was a prominent 19th-century hearing professor, author, and administrator at the National Institute for Deaf Youth of Paris (then known as the Institution royale des sourds-muets de Paris). He is best remembered for his institutional influence, his balancing act between sign language and spoken French, and for founding the first major French journal dedicated to Deaf and blind education. Morel secured a prominent teaching and administrative foothold at the Paris school. He served as a professor, the school's primary secretary-librarian, and was the principal writer of the school's official Circulaires (administrative and pedagogical updates). In 1844, he founded and edited the Annales de l'éducation des sourds-muets et des aveugles (Annals of Deaf-Mute and Blind Education). This highly influential quarterly review chronicled teaching methodologies, historical insights, and institutional progress across Europe.

“Two or three days afterwards, 1 came again, but Prof. M. was absent. His pupils were studying by themselves, I took the liberty of writing on the large black board the following words in French: to admire, admiring, admired, admiration, admirable, admirably, admirer, and requested them to write sentences on their small slates, into which these words should be introduced according to the order they were written. I found but one willing to gratify me, and while he was preparing his sentences, I wrote on another board other words of the same family; viz,: to see, seeing, seen, having seen, having been seen, sight; visible, visibly, visibility, vision, visionary, etc.; and just as I was about to invite some other pupils to introduce the above words into short phrases, in came the monitor. Each professor has a monitor to supply his place in case of his absence, and these monitors are generally young men, either hearing and speaking or deaf and dumb, who, desiring to qualify themselves to become teachers of the deaf and dumb, are hired for one or two years, like apprentices or clerks among merchants. They are boarded and lodged in the institution, but without any salary whatever, and their business is not only to attend the daily lessons of the professor; to occupy his place in case of absence or sickness; but also to attend with the pupils at their meals, or play, or study; to accompany them whenever they go to walk, to sleep with them in their dormitory; in one word, to be with them at all times; for the professors are not allowed to reside in the institution, no matter whether mar- ried or not, although there could be room for them, even for their families; for the institution is a very spacious one, capable of accommodating upwards of three hundred persons, and there were but two hundred, comprising pupils of both sexes, guardians, servants and others employed, besides the director, the superintendent, and their families! While I am on this subject, I must say I do not think this plan the best; for the professors, obliged to reside where they can, do not always find houses in the neighborhood of the institution, so as to be able to come to school with punctuality. No wonder, therefore, that some of them arrive rather late, while they must leave their school early enough to reach their houses. The director, Mr Delanneau, himself, I regret to say it, does not attend to his duties any better, and I am afraid he sets a bad example. Were he more regular and more faithful, his assistants would be so likewise; for like master like man, as says the proverb. He is seldom to be seen, nor does he ever visit the school rooms, or have any intercourse with the teachers or pupils except on extraordinary occasions. He is one of the twelve mayors of Paris, and the duties of his office call him out almost every day, to the great injury of the institution. He has the largest salary. He occupies with his family the whole first floor of the wing of the north building, with a pretty garden attached to it, and that, for doing what? Ah! very little indeed. He has never taught the deaf and dumb, nor is he much acquainted with the method of instruction. He knows but a few common signs, and talks with his fingers very slowly. Why, then, was he appointed Director ? Nobody could say unless it was for political purposes.”

Monsieur Adolphe de Lanneau was a prominent 19th-century educational director of the Institut National de Jeunes Sourds de Paris (INJS), the historic first public school for the deaf. He served as director in the mid-1800s, guiding the institution during its era of agricultural and vocational colony expansions for deaf youth.

“When I was introduced to him, he received me kindly, and gave me free entrance to the institution, and permission to visit the classes of both the boys and girls as often as I pleased, and this was all. He did not condescend to inquire after the American Asylum; nor did he say one word about the deaf and dumb!

The steward of the institution has the whole second floor above Mr. D., for in the opinion of the administration, an agent or steward is more indispensable, nay, more important than a teacher! The priest who is charged with the task of catechising the pupils and giving them a religious lecture on Sunday, is the only one who occupies the whole third floor; too large and too many rooms for one single priest! While these three great personages have the best accommodations and the largest salaries for doing so little, is it astonishing that those poor professors who devote themselves to the instruction and happiness of their unfortunate fellow beings, should have reason to complain of the smallness of their salaries? Is it astonishing that most of them, after the labour of the school, look out for doing something else, and go to give private lessons in town, for the sake of increasing a little their income? They do not seek to make large fortunes by their profession, but there can be no reason why they should not seek to gain more than a bare support. They should, at least, have enough to support their families, and to educate their children. The French Chambers, or rather the ministers of the king, are, and have ever been, very liberal towards the

institution; they annually appropriate a very large sum for the support of the pupils and the salaries of their teachers; but it is not their province to look into particulars: it is the business of the Committee of Administration, and unhappily the members who compose it, almost all belong to the aristocracy, and it does not agree with the aristocracy that the democracy should be superior or equal to it in point of emolument or honor.”

Laurent Clerc was known during his tenure at the Paris school to advocate for himself and his fellow teachers with the administration. There is a feeling that Laurent left France due to the poor living and working conditions at the Paris school. When he arrived in America, he had to reprise this role in his negotiations with the American Asylum Board of Directors.

“But let us return to my examination of Prof. M's pupils. I was giving them certain words, to see whether they could introduce them into correct sentences, when the monitor made his appearance. He was rather officious and entered into conversa-tion with me without ceremony, and kept me so busy in answering his questions, that the hour for dismissing school soon arrived, and the pupils effaced what was written on their slates, so that I had no opportunity to read what they had written; nevertheless at a subsequent visit, I ascertained that most of them had acquired great knowledge, although some of them made some very singular mistakes in composition.

[to be continued.]

Visits to Some of the Schools for the Deaf and Dumb in France and England - 1846-47 - Part 3

(concluded)

“After visiting the classes of the boys several times, I visited those of the girls in the other wing of the Institution. The girls are here shut up as in a cloister, and few gentlemen ever have access to them; nor are the teachers of the boys themselves admitted to visit them. An exception was made in my favor. I owed it to the politeness of the Director who, alone, has the right of entering and giving permission to enter; and he gave me this permission, probably, on account of my being a stranger, returning from a foreign land. It was the recreation hour when I called. The girls were in their garden, and on hearing of my arrival, immediately left their amusements and crowded around me. Some believed they recognized me; others stood gazing; some inquired of others who I was and what I had come for. Their curiosity was soon satisfied and they politely ushered me into their sitting-room up stairs. They numbered about sixty. With a few exceptions, they all looked very bright and intelligent; most of them were between the ages of ten and sixteen years; all dressed alike in plain clothes; uniformity being rigorously enforced, as is the case elsewhere in the boarding-schools for young ladies. At two o'clock p.m. they were called out to their respective classes which I attended by turns. Their teachers, with two of whom I had the honor of being acquainted, received me kindly. I had a long conversation with them, especially about the mode of instruction.

We agreed in some respects and differed in several others. They were all ladies of fine talents, first rate education and extensive reading; but of rather too much self-confidence, for we have not yet seen or heard of their ever having produced any very remarkable female scholars. Their apology is, that this is wholly owing to a want, on the part of their pupils, of an opportunity to practice. This may be true in a certain sense; but why do they keep their pupils shut up like nuns in a convent, and thereby deprive them of the opportunity of practicing? Why do they not permit them to visit or to receive visits? Why do they never introduce them into the very society they themselves frequent? What inconsistency, therefore, between their excuse and their objection? They say, that they fear there may be danger for these unfortunate girls to go out, even when accompanied, in so large a city as Paris. This may also be true. But if their pupils are taught self-respect and know to whom they may resort for protection, and have principles of morality imbued into their minds and the fear of God before their eyes, there will be no ground for the apprehensions of these good ladies who, although unmarried, know very well how to conduct themselves in this world of wickedness, deception and misery.

I remarked among these poor girls several who were very smart and who would become useful members of society, make excellent wives and be good mothers, if they had ever a chance of being known; which, alas, will perhaps never happen as long as they continue to be cut off from society. I wish the ladies-professors of the Paris Royal Institution could see what a contrast there is between the present condition of their pupils and our own. Here, in the United States of America, several hundred deaf and dumb of both sexes have married since they left school, and are blessed with hearing and speaking children, which is a great comfort for them in their old age! There are hardly two dozen of them to be found in any one country of Europe thus happily situated.

From the Royal Institution, I proceeded to the Maison de Refuge pour les Sourdes-Muettes indigentes, Rue des Postesy [House of Refuge for deaf and dumb indigent girls, Post Street.] This Retreat is the indispensable complement of the Royal Institution; but it essentially differs from the latter in its conditions of existence. The Institution is a royal establishment endowed by government ; the House of Refuge, one of charity, which is supported only by donations or alms from benevolent individuals. The girls admitted into the Royal Institution, receive there, during six years, all the instruction they need. This space of time being over, they must return to their homes, or look for a place to support themselves. Such was, at least, the thought of the administration from the origin of the establishment ; but it was not long before it became evident that notwithstanding their instruction, it was difficult for these poor girls to find a suitable situation either as seamstresses, workwomen or servants. Their infirmity was an obstacle to all kinds of relation between themselves and strangers. It was, therefore, on this account that a committee of ladies chosen to watch over the female pupils of the Royal Institution and to provide for their future support, formed the idea of creating the House of Refuge, where might be received, on their leaving the Royal Institution, those among these unfortunate girls, whom the poverty of their parents or friends left without means of subsistence. This House of Retreat was established in 1829. It furnishes these poor girls a home of their own during their lives. Here they are sheltered from the numerous dangers to which they would be”

The Maison de Refuge pour les Sourdes-Muettes indigentes (House of Refuge for Destitute Deaf-Mute Women), formerly located on Rue des Postes in Paris (now Rue Lhomond in the 5th arrondissement), was a historic charitable institution founded in the mid-19th century. Its purpose was to house, support, and care for young deaf women who had aged out of official school systems and lacked financial resources.

“exposed, if left entirely to themselves. Here they find comfort and security, and which is still better, good advice and affectionate protection. A matron appointed by the committee and familiar with their language of signs, not only cultivates and developes in them all the good feelings of their hearts, but also superintends the different occupations in which they are employed. Every thing is well arranged in this small community; good order, quickness, cleanliness, facilities for air, exercise and amusements, morning and evening prayers and religious instruction on the Sabbath-morning. Thanks to the maternal care of this excellent matron, they form a family, if not quite happy, at least, peaceable and edifying.

Such was the House of Refuge that I visited on going out of the Royal Institution, from which it is but a few rods distant. I saw forty girls or thereabouts, all still in the bloom of youth, the oldest as far as I could ascertain, not being above twentyfive, all more or less able to write and read, as all had previously been educated at the Royal Institution, and it was with heart-felt regret that I beheld so many pretty and intelligent looking young girls, doomed to pass their whole lives thus shut out from the enjoyments this world affords. I think they might have been otherwise disposed of, had another plan been adopted for their happiness. I inquired why it had not been thought best to place them among farmers in the country, or in

respectable families in the capacity of chamber-maids or servants or cooks, etc., and I received the eternal answer, the fear of their being exposed to danger or seduction. These ladies, indeed, must have a poor opinion of the virtue of these poor Deaf and Dumb, if they think of them as they appear to do.

Another day, elsewhere in Paris, I visited a small private school for deaf and dumb boys under the care of Mr. B. Dubois, the younger, who lost his hearing at four years of age. Mr. D. is a former pupil of the Royal Institution, in which he remained, many years, and in process of time became one of the best scholars. Out of school hours, he received daily lessons in articulation from his teacher, and when he left the Institution, which was some years ago, he took it into his head to establish, in Paris, with the assistance of his father and sisters, a school of a novel kind, where none but little boys should be admitted, and in which not one single sign, not even spelling with one's fingers should be resorted to, as nothing but articulation was to be the mode of teaching. A deaf and dumb man teach other deaf and dumb persons to speak! what a novelty! what a spectacle! what a wonder!

Benjamin Louis Dubois was a prominent 19th-century French Deaf educator and author who advocated for the oral method (teaching deaf individuals to speak and lip-read) in Paris. Born in 1817, Dubois lost his hearing at the age of six or seven. He initially studied at the National Institute for Deaf-Muets in Paris before breaking away from standard sign-language education to champion articulation. In 1837, he opened his own private school in Paris specifically dedicated to teaching deaf students how to speak. Long before the famous 1880 Milan Congress officialized oralism globally, Dubois was one of the earliest deaf individuals in France to actively promote a spoken-language approach. In 1844, he published his primary treatise titled Cause du mutisme chez les sourds communément désignés sous le nom de sourds-muets (The Cause of Muteness Among the Deaf Commonly Designated Under the Name of Deaf-Mutes). The book argued that the vocal organs of deaf individuals were fully functional and that "muteness" was simply a consequence of lacking auditory input rather than a physical defect.

“But to be serious, Mr. D. whom I found to be a young gentleman 26 or 27 years old, of much intelligence and energy, persisted in believing that he could teach them to speak, and do so perhaps better than any one else who heard and spoke. Accordingly, in 1844, he announced his design by a circular which was spread far and wide, and applied to the Minister of the Interior for pecuniary aid in his enterprise. The Minister, ever regardful of suffering humanity, with his usual liberality, granted him an appropriation for the support of ten boys, and if at the end of three years, Mr. D. succeeded in his attempt, he might depend upon further patronage.

Mr. D. urged me to visit his school and examine his pupils, then twelve in number, which I did with pleasure the next day. I examined them in this way. I could not do otherwise, as I do not speak one word myself, and was not permitted at all to spell with my fingers, nor to make any sign whatever, which, however, would have been useless, as his pupils understood none. A small slate was handed me and I wrote on it several words, such as pain, vin, eau, livre, papier, maison, etc. (bread, wine, water, book, paper, house, etc.) These words Mr. D. articulated, and the boys wrote them on the black-board quite correctly.

Then I wrote the following question, taking care that none saw or read what I wrote : Savez-vous qui je suis ? (Do you know who I am?) Then taking a little boy apart and making him read what I had just written, I requested him to communicate my question to another boy whom I pointed out to him. He did accordingly, and the other boy who had looked with much attention at the motion of the lips of his fellow-pupil, when the sentence was ended, immediately shook his head so as to say no, and taking a crayon, he wrote my question on the board quite accurately, and added his answer which was, non, Monsieur. I then begged Mr. D. to tell him my name, and when he had done it, the boy wrote: Monsieur Clair. I wrote another sentence with the same caution, and another boy lisped it to another, and the latter wrote: Je vais vous souhaiter le bon soir et m!en aller. (I am going to bid you good bye and go away,) which was exactly what I had written. The boy however, made one single mistake, which was his writing aller instead of m'en aller.) The conclusions that I am able to draw from my conversation with Messrs. Dubois, father and son, are, that they hold the following views : 1st. A child can be deaf without being mute; he can be mute without being deaf ; he can be, at once, both deaf and mute. 2d. Deafness does not cause mutism. 3rd. The child who was born deaf or who became so, after his birth, was not necessarily mute. He became so at a later period. 4th. The deaf does not speak, not because he has lost hearing, but because nobody teaches him to speak; because you have made him so by not speaking to him. 5th. Mutism is an infirmity which introduces itself for want of the exercise of the vocal organs. 6th. Hitherto, the deaf from birth has not been observed, nor the deaf who becomes so by accident; hence, therefore, numerous grave errors which taint the present mode of instruction. 7th. Among all the means of communication which are employed in instructing the Deaf and Dumb, mimicry is assuredly that which presents the greatest inconvenience. It should forever be proscribed from instruction. 8th. The education of a deaf and dumb child, should commence with the cradle, and to the mother this first education belongs. 9th. In order to make yourselves understood by the deaf child, to transmit your ideas to him, you should by no means have recourse to any peculiar manner of communication; on the contrary, you should employ with him the same mode which you employ with the child who hears; a very simple and rapid mode, indeed, which is speech itself; therefore, speak to the deaf, speak to him often; speak to him always; speak to him from his earliest childhood, and he will finish by answering you; for the child who comprehends speech by the eyes, instead of hearing it by the ears, will bestow all its attention on well imitating you, and the motion of its lips will always be like yours.

Such were some of the arguments of Messrs. Dubois in favor of their method, arguments which those who hear and speak, are better qualified than am I, a poor deaf and dumb man, to settle. But whatever may be their opinion, mine is that Messrs' D. will produce more ingenious automatons than good scholars. It ought also to be recollected that the questions which I had time to propose to them, were of the most simple and common kind.

I left Paris early one day in June (1847) and reached London the next day in the afternoon. I called on Mr. Watson, the Principal of the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, the week after my arrival. He gave me a hearty welcome and called one of the professors to accompany and show me all that was worth seeing in the Institution. I saw about two hundred little boys and girls at dinner ; but had no opportunity to talk with

any, as the place was not a proper one for the purpose. Besides, I was told that the children were not allowed to talk while at the table. On returning to Mr. Watson's room, I found him engaged with some strangers, and he proposed to me to call again on Monday following and he would be more attentive to me than he could now be. I accepted his invitation with thankfulness, and bade him good bye and went away. Two days afterwards I received a note from him through the Post-office in which he informed me that in consequence of the work people having taken possession of his rooms, he should not be at home on Monday, and therefore regretted that he was obliged to postpone the pleasure of my visit to some future opportunity.”

Thomas James Watson (d. 1857) was a prominent Victorian educator who served as the Principal of the Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb on Old Kent Road, London, from 1829 until his death in 1857. He was the son of the institution's legendary first principal, Dr. Joseph Watson. He spent years assisting his father before briefly serving as the headmaster of the Glasgow Institution for the Deaf and Dumb. He took over the London Asylum immediately following his father's passing in 1829. Under his leadership in the 1840s, the Asylum grew significantly, educating and providing asylum for hundreds of impoverished deaf children supported by public charity. His crowning professional achievement was compiling and publishing An Illustrated Vocabulary for the Use of the Deaf and Dumb (1857). This monumental textbook took his father's original teaching methods and dramatically expanded them. It broke down thousands of words into distinct syllables to teach phonetic pronunciation alongside visual imagery. When he died in 1857, his son, The Reverend James Harrison Watson, took over as principal. This marked the third and final consecutive generation of the Watson family to lead the school. During Thomas James Watson's tenure in 1847, the school caught the attention of prominent Victorian figures. Notably, Charles Dickens served as one of the Asylum's official Governors during this era. Dickens' experiences observing the school and its students under Watson's care heavily inspired his famous short story, "Doctor Marigold," which features an adopted deaf girl learning to read.

“This meant something that I am not yet able to solve. I had taken the trouble of coming to London for the sole purpose of visiting the Asylum, located in old Kent road; and great, indeed, was my disappointment at the receipt of Mr. W's note; but I bore it with the patience of a philosopher."

The SS Washington, launched on January 30, 1847, was the first full-power American steamship to enter transatlantic service. Built by the New York shipyard Westervelt & Mackay for the Ocean Steam Navigation Company (OSNC), the vessel played a pioneering role in establishing the United States as a competitor in steam-driven ocean mail and passenger transit. Washington was a wooden-hulled paddle steamship equipped with auxiliary sails. She was designed to bridge the gap between traditional sailing packets and modern, purely mechanical propulsion. Due to these performance shortcomings, the U.S. government revoked its mail subsidy contract with OSNC by the end of 1847, later reassigning it to the celebrated Collins Line. Laurent’s return voyage was precisely SS Washington’s historic first westbound return voyage, which arrived at the Port of New York on July 30, 1847, under the command of Captain Edward Crabtree. Laurent boarded the ship at Southampton, England, on July 10, 1847, expecting to reach New York by July 25. The Southampton departure was delayed when Just 70 miles out into the Atlantic Ocean, the steamship's furnaces began to melt due to what was blamed on "bad coal". The captain turned the ship around for emergency repairs, leaving Clerc stranded in Southampton, England, until the vessel was finally deemed safe to depart again on July 15, 1848.

“Soon after I left London for Southampton and Southampton for New York, where I landed safely from on board the steamship Washington in fifteen days, after an absence of a year.”

Everywhere I have looked it says that Laurent returned to New York Harbor on July 30, 1847. The SS Washington ship’s port arrival records are dated July 31, 1847. Laurent’s name is the third entry...

...on the full port record.