Disability Throughout History: Mary Ingalls

Mary, 1889

Outside of my personal life, my first experience with disability was in books. The most defining series of my childhood was the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder. My mother had her own precious copies from 1971 while mine were published in 1994.

Though I, like so many little girls, identified with the spunky and bold Laura, many of my traits really matched that of her older sister, Mary. Mary was quiet, obedient, and responsible. She was her mother's right-hand while managing frequent moves and adventurous little sisters. Her life, and that of her family's, changed drastically when she became ill at fourteen years old. From this point onward, the Little House series takes a turn: Laura's childhood abruptly ends and the family's moves become more focused on finding stability and security for their now-disabled oldest daughter.

Laura Ingalls Wilder is a topic about which I could speak for hours. I have many books both by and about her. I have visited the Little House sites in Wisconsin, Kansas, Minnesota, South Dakota, and Missouri. As a young teenager, I cried in reverence at Rocky Ridge Farm, where the real Wilder wrote the series that so influenced my life. And, while I technically appreciate the revived interest that the Little House on the Prairie TV series (1974-1983) sparked, I will rant about the endless historical inaccuracies. I've never actually made it through a full episode, though I have tried.

Melissa Sue Anderson as Mary Ingalls, 1974 publicity photo

This post is about Wilder's older sister, Mary Ingalls - the real one, not the one who slowly went blind, married the also-blind Adam Kendall, started a blind school, had a miscarriage, got depressed, had another baby who died in a fire at said blind school, got depressed again, then moved to New York with her husband, who had miraculously recovered his sight and become a lawyer. Man, that TV series was wild.

Mary Amelia Ingalls was born on January 10, 1865 in a small log cabin in Pepin, Wisconsin. She was the first child of Charles and Caroline Ingalls, born just a few weeks before their fifth wedding anniversary. Her sister, the famous Laura Elizabeth Ingalls Wilder (1867-1957), was later born in the same cabin. The girls' childhood was spent moving from place to place in hopes of becoming successful homesteaders - they moved from Wisconsin to Missouri to Kansas back to Wisconsin to Minnesota to Iowa and back to Minnesota. During this time, three more Ingalls children were born: Caroline "Carrie" Celestia Ingalls Swanzey (1870-1946), Charles Frederick "Freddie" Ingalls (1875-1876), and Grace Pearl Ingalls Dow (1877-1941).

In 1879, at the young age of fourteen, Mary suddenly became dangerously ill. Wilder records this time in her book By the Shores of Silver Lake briefly, saying that Mary, Ma, Carrie, and Grace were all sick with scarlet fever. The latter three recovered while Mary did not. "It settled in her eyes," Wilder wrote, "and Mary was blind."

"All that long time, week after week, when she could still see a little, but less every day, she had never cried. Now she could not see even the brightest light anymore. She was still patient and brave. Her beautiful golden hair was gone. Pa had shaved it close because of the fever, and her poor shorn head looked like a boy’s . . . Her blue eyes were still beautiful, but they did not know what was before them."

In Wilder's unpublished memoirs, she gives more detail: "One morning when I looked at her I saw one side of her face drawn out of shape. Ma said Mary had had a stroke […] After the stroke Mary began to get better, but she could not see well…As Mary grew stronger her eyes grew weaker until when she could sit up in the big chair among the pillows, she could hardly see at all.”

Newspaper accounts from The Redwood Gazette at this time correspond with these details. Beginning in April 1879, the paper chronicled her illness, including that she had a "severe headache" and "It was feared that hemorrhage of the brain had set in in [sic], one side of her face became partially paralyzed." In June, they reported that while her "health improves...her sight is so much impaired that she cannot distinguish one object from another. She can discern day from night but even this slight vision is also failing." That July, her parents took her to St. Paul in hopes something could be done. The paper reported Mary's demeanor in a way that matches her personality and the expectations of young women at this time: "Although entirely blind she is very patient and submissive."

Though Wilder attributes Mary's illness to scarlet fever in the book, modern medical research does not indicate that this was the case. Wilder had written to her daughter and editor, Rose Wilder Lane, before By the Shores of Silver Lake was published that it was "some sort of spinal sickness." This letter also mentions that Mary saw a specialist in Chicago who said “the nerves of her eyes were paralyzed and there was no hope.” In a study published by the medical journal Pediatrics in 2013, the authors theorized that she was ill with viral meningoencephalitis, an inflammation of the brain and its membrane. In severe cases, it also causes inflammation of the optic nerve, resulting in a slow and progressive loss of sight.

Wilder, at the request of her father, became "Mary's eyes." She later attributed this as helping develop her skills as a writer and storyteller. As Mary put it, "See out loud for me, please." Once Mary was recovered, she was expected to continue helping with chores and learning her lessons, with Wilder reading out loud as Mary memorized pages of content. The fact that the Ingalls family continued to have high expectations for their daughter was very progressive for the time: an 1874 Harper's Magazine article said that the blind "rapidly and inevitably gravitate lower and lower in the scale of humanity." The 1880 census classified the nearly 50,000 blind Americans with other "defective persons" - "the insane, the feeble-minded, the deaf and dumb."

Carrie, Mary, & Laura, 1882

During the fall of 1879, the family moved a final time, filing for a homestead near modern-day De Smet, South Dakota. A traveling minister and family friend told them about a college for the blind in Iowa, giving them hope that they could send Mary there. Two years later, following her parents and Wilder working to save money while also surviving one of the worst winters on record, Mary was able to enroll in the Iowa College for the Blind in Vinton. The family was determined that their oldest daughter be given every educational opportunity possible, even when they were eating the fried blackbirds that had devastated their crops or twisting hay to burn in the stove to keep warm. They were assisted by the government in Dakota Territory, which supported its blind residents to attend school in Iowa. Kingsbury County, in October 1881, recorded, "A statement received from [the] County Superintendent certifying that Mary A. Ingalls is entitled to the benefits of the Territorial Blind Asylum and the same was forwarded to the Governor with the certificate of the Commissioner attesting to the truth of the recitals therein."

This school, first opened in 1852 and now known as Iowa Educational Services for the Blind & Visually Impaired, opened up the world to the sixteen-year-old. Mary and her parents took the 450-mile train ride to Vinton and were greeted by the principal, Mr. Carrothers, and the friendly (and also blind) teacher Lorana Mattice. Mary's roommate was Blanche Howard, "a lively sort of girl." As expected, Mary passed the difficult entrance exam. She was happy, excited, and eager to learn to play the organ.

Mary as a student in Vinton, Iowa

At this time, the school's 12-year curriculum included academic classes (e.g., history, geography, physiology, philosophy, rhetoric, chemistry, zoology, raised print, New York Point, civil government, political economics, and botany), music (e.g., piano, pipe organ, violin, guitar, flute, clarinet, and cornet), and industrial skills (making brooms, mattresses, hammocks, fly nets and cane seating, piano tuning, carpet weaving, sewing, knitting, and bead work). This innovative curriculum was developed by the young school superintendent, Thomas McCune. He preferred to educate the children “along general educational lines rather than industrial training for the adult blind," because “the individual with a trained mind would always be able to maintain himself.” He also intended to "reduce as much as possible the difference between this school and schools for the sighted."

When Mary enrolled in November 1881, there were 94 students in the school, ages 6-67. She achieved exceptionally highly in academics and was noted for above average musical talent as well. Her days were marked by bells beginning at 6:00AM for "rising" and ending at 9:00PM for "retiring." The meals and accommodations were simple yet adequate. There was no coddling or pity for the students, who were expected to, for example, walk to town and shop by themselves. Students learned both social and practical skills to navigate a sighted world. McCune "wanted his students to view themselves as competent and capable of doing whatever they chose to do."

Mary returned home for the first time (traveling independently by train) eight months later, her family amazed at her newfound confidence. College had also brought out her sense of humor. Mary told a story of shopping with her roommate, who could see bright colors. Blanche secretly signaled to Mary the fabrics' colors but Mary pretended she knew the colors simply by touch, much to the amazement of the storekeeper. She was full of hope and excitement at new adventures, such as staying with Blanche's family the following summer instead of coming home. The next year, Wilder got married and Mary regretted missing time with her beloved sister. "I didn’t realize that anything would ever change, here at home. I felt it was always here, to come back to.” In regards to Wilder, Mary said, “I’ll never see so well with anyone else."

Mary graduated, even with a few absences for illness or lack of funds, in June 1889 when she was 24 years old. She was one of eight students in her graduating class. At commencement, she recited the Robert Burns essay, "Bide a Wee and Dinna Weary," based on a Scottish song her father often played. Mary then returned to De Smet to live in town with her parents and sisters. Charles had built the house with her in mind: her room was on the first floor to avoid navigating the twisted stairs, every closet and cupboard had neat compartments, and the backyard had a series of ropes to assist her going to the gardens and outbuildings.

The Ingalls Family in 1891
From L-R: Caroline, Grace, Laura, Charles, Carrie, & Mary

Other than occasional trips to visit friends or family and one trip to a Chicago specialist for neuralgia, Mary stayed in De Smet for the rest of her life. She enjoyed church activities, visits with friends, reading, and composing poetry (sometimes published in their church newspaper The Advance). She and her younger sisters, Carrie and Grace, attended the Young People's Society of Christian Endeavor. Mary was also the church organist at the Congregational Church for over 30 years. She subscribed to a Braille magazine and her sisters learned New York Point (a system of tactile writing) to write letters to her. Once Mary and her mother were alone in their home (Grace married in 1901, Charles died in 1902, and Carrie married in 1912), they made money by taking in boarders, doing laundry, and making fly nets for horses. Mary never married, though a Wilder biographer claimed that she had "had a serious beau who proposed marriage."

Mary, near the end of her life

Caroline and her daughter Mary were always together. They were consistently dressed beautifully as they strolled arm-in-arm around town. Caroline was short and matronly while Mary tall and slender. As Caroline aged, she became increasingly crippled by arthritis. Mary commented that, "I am Ma's feet, and she is my eyes." The two were assisted by Grace and her husband, Nathan. In 1924, Caroline died at the age of 83.

Following this, Grace and Nathan moved in with Mary in her De Smet home (sold to her by her mother in 1912 for the price of $1 plus "love and affection"). Mary went to see her sister Carrie for an extended visit beginning in June 1927. The De Smet Leader reported that "the change should be a great treat to Miss Ingalls, with her sister and family to act as eyes for her, and she looked forward to the trip and visit with great anticipation.” The following January, she was hospitalized following a fall and a stroke. She remained with Carrie and, in August, Grace and her husband rented out Mary's home and moved back to their farm.

On October 17, 1928, Mary died, four days after another stroke. She was 63 years old. The De Smet Leader reported simply: "Mary Ingalls passed away at the home of her sister, Mrs. D. N. Swanzey, at Keystone, is learned by wire Wednesday. The body arrived in De Smet Thursday morning with Mrs. Swanzey accompanying it. Miss Ingalls suffered another stroke a few days before her death, after a year of ill health following former strokes. Funeral services will be held at the Congregational church Friday at two o’clock, with the Rev. J. T. O’Neill officiating." She was buried in the De Smet Cemetery in the Ingalls family plot. Four years later, Wilder would immortalize her family, including her beloved older sister, in the book Little House in the Big Woods.

A Wilder biographer wrote that Mary appeared to have a "quiet satisfaction" with her life, corroborated by family letters and recollections. In a 1914 letter to Wilder, she wrote, “How good it is to be alive! Let us be thankful that we were born. Let us fold away our fears and put by our foolish tears through the coming year and just be glad.”

To close, here are Mary's own words, a poem she wrote sometime after Charles died, that is entitled "My Father's Violin."

Long years have passed since childhood's happy day

Sorrow and joy have fallen in my way

Sunshine and shadow along my pathway lay

Happiness and misery have come and passed away

And rosy morn and twilight cold and gray

Never to fade and never to decay

Until this paper's page I print

With stylus of steel on slate of flint

The words which shall forever be

A record of the melody

That lifts my soul Oh God to thee.

Those sweet old strains shall ever rise

And be with me beyond the skies

Shall be with me and never die

Sweet strains of the "Sweet By and By,"

And oft the merry footsteps flew

And happy heart beats faster grew

As o'er the strings the bow he drew

And "Swanee River," "Home Sweet Home"

Shall be with me where e'er I roam

Through desert wild, o'er ocean foam

And make the glittering teardrop start

And faster beat the throbbing heart

But like some brilliant beacon star

As o'er the world I wander far

I seem to see my home again

My father and his violin.

Sweeter by far to my loving heart

Than minstrels of cultured art

Was music from those mystic strings

My father's hand to give it wings.

Oh how I wish for an hour once more

In that dear old home on Vermillion's shore

How I long to enter that vine-wreathed door

And stand on that old familiar floor

Once more the dear ones there to greet

To think of the years that have passed so fleet

Since with childish romping feet

We roamed through the gardens and meadows sweet

And to look with many blinding tears

Into the vista of the coming years

What the future may bring we cannot know

Joy's wings are fleet, sorrow's are slow

Sorrow from joys of the present may glow

Or joy may come of our grief and woe

But ever and always the song in my heart

Shall be of the time when never to part

In the Heavenly home we'll meet again

Sanctified, glorified, cleansed from all sin.

Most sincerely,

Clem

Disability Throughout History

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Monday, May 24, 2021

Mary Ingalls - Seeing with Words