He wasted no time in communicating his message. Using all the freedom allowed him by his gender, he met the politicians in hotels and boardinghouses, and there, likely over wine and cigars, he shared his professional diagnosis of Elizabeth and urged them not only to reject her bill but to repeal the other. “In nearly three thousand admissions here,” he claimed of his asylum, “a question [of unfair commitment] was never seriously raised, in a single instance [under the previous law].”16
Upon hearing his claims, which he also published in his biennial report, Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. A question had never been seriously raised? Honestly? Elizabeth soon published her riposte: “Has the Doctor forgotten that the question has been once, at least, seriously raised by the court at Kankakee City, in the case of one whom that court decided had been falsely imprisoned for three years?”17 Mindful of her sisters, she added, “Mrs. Packard’s case is a type of other cases of false imprisonment now there; and the simplest claims of justice and humanity demand that this Legislature extend to such a fair trial.”18
But an angry article in the press was no match for the personal pressure that McFarland was able to bring to his intimate tête-à-têtes. With McFarland cozying up to the members of the general assembly, woman or not, Elizabeth felt she had to do the same. She therefore called on the landlords of the relevant boardinghouses and begged permission to meet the members in their parlors. In face of Elizabeth’s persuasiveness, all cheerfully agreed. She took along copies of her printed riposte to McFarland as well as her many books and pamphlets, often giving away her publications for free in order to further her cause.
One might have thought that some men would think her pushy or unnatural for this fearless behavior. But over the past few years, Elizabeth had honed a very clever strategy as she campaigned. On the surface, she seemingly embraced the male view of women as weak and defenseless, but if that was the truth, she argued, men had to protect them by passing the laws she proposed. She also openly flattered the lawmakers, telling them she knew that they would never dream of treating women badly; if all men were true men like them, no legal reformation would be required. But as deviants, such as her husband, did exist, she had no choice but to beg them to change the law on her behalf.
It was a method a million miles away from the radical philosophies in The Great Drama. But Elizabeth Packard was nothing if not practical. She knew instinctively that it was too soon politically for those ideas; they would hinder and not help her. She needed to see change in her lifetime, so she employed these manipulations in order to persuade the politicians.
Her wily positioning worked a treat. Despite the shockingly public nature of her work, she regularly earned men’s praise and not their opprobrium. In later years, she was even commended for not being one of the “offensive class”19 of female campaigners. “You are reasonable and sensible on the subject of ‘Woman’s Rights,’” one man said. “Coming with such views as yours, there is more hope, at least, of your making it a success.”20
In late January 1867, success did indeed seem within reach. Elizabeth felt her bill was “constantly growing in favor with the enlightened public.”21
There was a particular reason for that. Elizabeth was not backward in coming forward with all the details of her time in the asylum, which included stories of abuse as well as unjust imprisonment. Given the extensive press coverage, others soon began to share their own experiences. Some were erstwhile attendants, including Mrs. Graff （formerly Mrs. Hosmer）。 They wrote letters to the media, which sat alongside Elizabeth’s own vivid accounts. “Horrible revelations”22 began to be published of the violence patients suffered behind closed doors. In such a climate, Elizabeth’s reforms—and the spotlight she was fearlessly focusing upon the asylum—seemed increasingly essential.
Yet despite these further, serious allegations, Dr. McFarland remained untouched. A legislative committee visited the hospital on January 26, but it was a rerun of the outcome of those glowing media tours; the committee expressed “much gratification at the condition & management”23 of the asylum. It vowed to recommend the customary budget for the next two years.
In other words, business as usual.
Elizabeth had only one last-ditch attempt to make a difference—to make them see the truth. On February 12, 1867, she was personally invited to address the general assembly.
One last chance to make it count.
CHAPTER 50
Only once before in her life had she spoken to such a huge crowd of men. The year before, she’d made a similar presentation in Connecticut’s legislative hall, one of the first women ever to address a general assembly.