Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2018 with funding from 
 Columbia University Libraries 
 
 https://archive.org/details/memorialsketchofOOruss 
 
/ 
 
Memorial Sketch 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY MARTIN KNIGHT, M.D. 
 
 Late Superintendent of the School for 
 Imbeciles at Lakeville, Conn. 
 
 BY 
 
 GURDON W. RUSSELL, M.D. 
 
 Hartford, Conn. : 
 
 Press of The Case, Lockwood & Brainard Co. 
 
 1891. 
 
IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 [Having been requested by the Directors of the School 
 for Imbeciles to prepare a Memorial of the late Dr. Knight, 
 I have brought together the following,—giving due credit 
 to each one, —compiled in part from a sketch of him by his 
 * brother, remarks made at his funeral by his pastor, and also 
 extracts from a newspaper article written by myself shortly 
 after his death. And there has been added to this such 
 other thoughts, suggestions, and remembrances as have 
 been brought to my notice by his friends, or have occurred 
 to me during this writing. — G. W. R., March , i888.\ 
 
 I T seems proper to commence this Memorial 
 with a brief life history by his brother: 
 
 \ Henry Martin Knight was born August 11, 
 1827, at Stafford, Conn., and died at Fernandina, 
 Florida, January 22, 1880. 
 
 ** He was the fifth son of Joseph and Ruba 
 Knight. His father was settled as pastor over 
 the Congregational Church at Stafford, and 
 was known far and wide among the clergy as 
 Father Knight. During a long ministry he 
 
4 
 
 suffered' .severely from a distressing malady, 
 and often, when unable to stand, would preach 
 while seated in a chair in his own house to his 
 congregation there gathered. This steadfast 
 adherence to duty, at any cost, was transmitted 
 
 I 
 
 fully to his son. Amidst the.se influences his 
 boyhood was passed in the healthful atmosphere 
 of the country at Stafford, and later among the 
 hills of Granby, and Peru, Massachusetts. The 
 strict economy of a country minister’s home, 
 with a large family to provide for with a small 
 salary, early fostered energy, self-reliance, and 
 perseverance in the face of apparently discour¬ 
 aging circumstances. His education was ac¬ 
 quired by his own efforts, energy, and self-de¬ 
 nial. At the age of sixteen he entered Willis- 
 ton Seminary, in East Hampton, Mass., already 
 a celebrated institution. His vacations were 
 occupied in teaching school; this led him at 
 one time to Norfolk, where he became acquaint¬ 
 ed with his future wife, Miss Mary Phelps. 
 
 v In 1847 he commenced the study of medi¬ 
 cine with Dr. Smith of Mffnson, Mass., and 
 afterwards studied with Dr. Miner of South 
 
 t' 
 
 Braintree, Mass. He graduated at the Berk- 
 
 O 
 
5 
 
 shire Medical College, Pittsfield, Mass., in 1849; 
 was soon after married, and commenced the 
 practice of medicine at Stafford Springs. In 
 1851 he removed to Lakeville, and entered into 
 partnership with Dr. Benjamin Welch, a well- 
 known practitioner of that place. He was act¬ 
 ively engaged in his profession until the cur¬ 
 rent of his life-work was changed in the di¬ 
 rection of the care of weak and feeble-minded 
 children. He was ever ready to respond to the 
 calls of the suffering, knowing no difference in 
 this respect between rich and poor. He fairly 
 earned the title of the ‘beloved physician.fi 
 Xln 1854 he was elected to the Legislature, 
 and was appointed one of a committee to ascer¬ 
 tain the number of imbecile children in this 
 State. The knowledge acquired while serving 
 on this committee, together with his previous 
 study and observation, inspired him with the 
 idea of founding the school which is his best 
 monument and memorial. In 1856 he presented 
 his plans to the legislature, and asked that Con¬ 
 necticut should establish a school for imbeciles 
 similar to those already instituted by Massachu¬ 
 setts and Pennsylvania. The measure passed 
 
the House, but was defeated in the Senate by 
 one vote. In 1858, abandoning the hope of 
 State aid in establishing the enterprise, he gave 
 up general practice and opened his own house 
 for the reception of feeble-minded patients, 
 meeting with such success that six years later 
 he erected the main wing of the present large 
 building. Later this was enlarged by appropri¬ 
 ations from the State, which eventually recog¬ 
 nized the utility and importance of the institu¬ 
 tion. After many discouragements and rebuffs, 
 which would have led most men to give up the 
 project, public sympathy and interest were 
 aroused, and a law was enacted giving aid and 
 support to a limited number of children — the 
 State’s sad and helpless ones who had found in 
 him a friend and advocate. 
 
 He died when he was entering a period 
 of permanent prosperity, — when the heavy 
 work of urging, arguing, and pleading |was 
 mainly over, and an assured support was 
 secured.” 
 
 This brief sketch shows us in a graphic 
 manner how diligent he was in obtaining his 
 education, and how persevering he was in push- 
 
7 
 
 ing his plans; the very obstacles which, he met 
 were incentives to overcome them.. 
 
 I knew him for nearly a quaj:t*®r of^i century, 
 
 and was somewhat familiar' w r ith his work. 
 Commencing in a moderate way in his own 
 residence, he developed in the course of a few 
 years his methods of instruction and care of 
 feeble-minded children, until at the time of his 
 death he had under his supervision somewhere 
 about one hundred of them. • From that hum¬ 
 ble beginning in his own home there arose the 
 Connecticut School for Imbeciles; the contrast 
 between these early efforts, which I first saw in 
 
 r 
 
 1858, and the extended establishment at the 
 time of his death w r as very great. It was the 
 
 1 
 
 natural outcome and positive accomplishment 
 of a man who was earnest in his convictions 
 and resolute in his actions. The school had be¬ 
 come well known in this and neighboring 
 States; he had secured sympathizing and sup¬ 
 porting friends; his townsmen admired such 
 energy, and were proud of him; and his pro¬ 
 fessional brethren, who sympathized with him, 
 and who always are sympathizers in such hu¬ 
 manitarian work, gave him their cordial encour- 
 
8 
 
 / 
 
 agement. • He bad acquired a very favorable' 
 reputation in his specialty. 
 
 His endeavors to enlist the co-operation of 
 the State were not successful for some time ; 
 his projects were regarded as too visionary for 
 contributions of the public money. Nothing 
 could be. done with these people, it was thought, 
 and why waste upon them either money or 
 time which were better spent elsewhere and on 
 other objects. I met him on one occasion just 
 as the legislature had adjourned without grant¬ 
 ing him aid; his pleas before the committees 
 were patiently listened to, but he obtained no 
 help; while a few wished him success, the ma¬ 
 jority was against.him ; the appropriations were 
 needed for other objects. It was the old story, 
 “go thy way for this time.” There is brought 
 before me vividly, as I write now, many years 
 after the event, the .subdued tone and sadness 
 of his countenance ; he' was as one exceedingly 
 fatigued by his labors. But though disap¬ 
 pointed he was not discouraged, and felt sure 
 
 that the time would come when his expectations 
 
 • % 
 
 would be realized and he should receive that 
 public recognition which hd, deserved. It was 
 
/ 
 
 9 
 
 \ 
 
 especially noticed (and it was a beautiful trait 
 in his character) that he was not now, nor at 
 any time, as far as I know, loud in his blame of 
 those who were not in accord with him. He 
 recognized fully that new propositions must be 
 examined from all sides by many men of divers 
 thoughts and ways of thinking, and that, after 
 prolonged discussions, the right conclusion 
 would generally be reached ; and so he said, “ I 
 will be patient,” and went again to his indi¬ 
 vidual work. When we remember how many 
 claims are made upon the public treasury for 
 schemes which are visionary or selfish we may 
 excuse the legislator who is careful in his scru¬ 
 tiny, and prudent of public funds. If a proper 
 request is occasionally refused, yet it too often 
 happens that projects are Successful which 
 ought never to have been granted. If the 
 world is often ungrateful, it is also often over- 
 generous. / «< 
 
 A few faithful friends, however, rallied about 
 him, cheered and ^supported him, and enabled 
 him to continue in his good work; he was not 
 easily to be cast down. He labored on patiently, 
 and after some years of hard toil, with discour- 
 
 2 
 
agements which would have broken down a less 
 hopeful man, he began to reap his reward. The 
 success of the school was recognized, and the 
 State began to afford him some aid , in the sup- 
 
 i 
 
 port which it gave to poor pupils. His family 
 was growing up around him, aiding and taking „ 
 
 jr ) 
 
 an interest in his work. As far as human eye 
 could see he was receiving the reward of years 
 of labor and anxiety. 
 
 . And when he was entering upon the fruition 
 of it he was suddenly taken away; and so it fell 
 to others to carry out his humane and efficient 
 plans, and to labor in that work to which he 
 consecrated and gave up his life. 
 
 Yes, he gave up his life for this work in a 
 most unselfish manner, — in a path generally 
 considered most disagreeable and unpromising; 
 and with a perseverance which was wonderful, 
 wrought out and brought to an acknowledged 
 success the truth that much could be accom¬ 
 plished in the instruction of mentally-feeble 
 children. * When we consider how many there 
 are in this condition, through no fault of their 
 own, but often through the fault of their par¬ 
 ents,— that they are regarded generally with 
 
disfavor, and are likely to be ill-treated, — we 
 may thank God that it is put into the heart of 
 some men to work diligently for their improve¬ 
 ment. The cases which he has related to me 
 of his success in bringing some from an entire 
 neglect of themselves to a comfortable condition 
 of life, were enough to establish his skill and 
 humanity. To say that it is better that all these 
 
 children should die young is to say that it is 
 
 > 
 
 better that we should be relieved of all pain and 
 trouble in an instant and at our own will, with¬ 
 out regard to circumstances. The pagan may 
 destroy all feeble and deformed children at 
 their birth, or if they do not agree with his own 
 ideas of beauty; but the Christian accepts the 
 burdens which are placed upon him, and strives 
 to make them as light as possible. 
 
 I never heard hii/]/boastingly or selfishly 
 exalt himself on his success ; but if he ever did 
 cherish the feeling that he had done a good 
 thing it was with a heartfelt thankfulness for 
 the accomplishment of benefit to others, rather 
 than with any vain glorying of himself. When 
 we see a man so conscientious in his work as he 
 was, and where so few are willing to labor, then 
 
12 
 
 I think we are bound not alone to accord to him 
 all honor, but to hold up his hands and give 
 him such substantial aid as the good and faith¬ 
 ful servant always deserves. As his pastor said 
 of him, “he gave himself freely for others,” 
 and I recognize among the men and women 
 whom I have known, few who labored to do 
 their duty more faithfully, and who did it not 
 with an eye to man service, but conscientiously, 
 and in the sight of God. 
 
 What a w r onderfui enthusiasm he possessed! 
 To see him take his children in his arms or 
 upon his knees, and talk to them in evident 
 pleasure, one would say, now this man is in 
 earnest; they are pleased with these attentions, 
 and appreciate that kindness of heart which is 
 so devoted to them. It did not disturb him if, 
 as sometimes happened, no immediate recogni¬ 
 tion was shown, or if the dull and listless coun- 
 
 * 
 
 tenance gave no indication that any impression 
 was made. But in all my acquaintance with 
 .him he showed no sighs of disgust, nor gave 
 any utterances of disappointment or peevish¬ 
 ness, if his advances were not readily noticed. 
 And in that patience and firm belief in faithful * 
 
 / 
 
teaching lay the great difference between our 
 friend and most of the world, and showed how 
 much of love he had in his work. His brother 
 well says of him, that “ he was a man of conse¬ 
 crated heart, and did his work not merely as a 
 secular business, but from the purest and high¬ 
 est motives; and he loved it. It enlisted his 
 soul and whole being in a religious senseff* 
 This patient continuance in well-doing is 
 spoken of by all his friends. Says the Rev. Mr. 
 Kitchell, in his funeral address, “The most 
 marked features of his character and life were 
 spiritual and noble, such as we delight to dwell 
 on, and such as aid us in placing him in that 
 higher realm, where it is our comfort to place 
 him. . . He gave his money, his influ¬ 
 
 ence, his time, his strength, yes, his life at last, 
 for the sake of his fellows. For his friends, for 
 the unfortunate, for the wretched in any sort, 
 he was ready always to spend and be spent. 
 . . . Fie gave himself to the weak-minded 
 
 unfortunate. Twenty years he was a successful 
 medical practitioner. His winning address, his 
 rare and quick intuitiveness, his ready sympa¬ 
 thy, had made him in all your households the 
 
14 
 
 ‘beloved physician.’ With these qualities it is 
 safe to say that any prize of his profession lay be¬ 
 fore him, whether here, or in any other sphere 
 to which ambition might have led him. But 
 his heart became interested in the needs of the 
 imbecile, and gradually he left everything else 
 to alleviate their wretched condition. As the 
 result, he built up ybout himself as his life work 
 the school at Lakeville, and in that work the 
 
 >. . t 
 
 great feature is a tender and generous humanity. 
 We call it his life .work — and it does fitly rep¬ 
 resent the quality of his soul — yet how small a 
 part it seems of what he was and did. 
 
 “But if we love theny who love us, what 
 thank have we? He'loved and gave himself 
 for the wretched and degraded of every sort, 
 
 t 
 
 especially for the intemperate/ You remember 
 the enthusiasm and the labors of his life in this 
 direction. ... A second feature in his char¬ 
 acter was, he gave himself freely to his Saviour. 
 He gave himself to Christ in the same whole¬ 
 hearted, decided way in which he loved his 
 
 > / 
 
 fellows; he did not keep anything back. You 
 know how strong his will was; - yet it was most 
 perfectly, submitted. I never saw a meek- 
 

 t 
 
 15 
 
 spirited woman who was more docile, or more 
 heartily at one with the will and the work of 
 God. His desires were eager and strong, yet 
 he ever seemed to follow them entirely and 
 safely, because they led him right, — because 
 loving the Saviour he had come himself to de¬ 
 sire thos^ things which are lovely, pure, and of 
 good report. 
 
 “ So all of his religious exercises partook of 
 this heartiness. How childlike, how eager, how 
 direct, how tender, how grand-was his approach 
 in prayer to the throne ! How strong and mas¬ 
 terful his rich voice went in sacred song before 
 us, as his spirit went before ours. He loved 
 the church, — it was the body of Christ to him ; 
 he honored it and loyed to work through it — 
 for temperance, for missions at home or abroad 
 — as if he sought his own personal aggrandise¬ 
 ment. He loved the Sunday-school; here in¬ 
 deed was his pride and glory; here his love for 
 little children (and he was a little child himself 
 with them) was blended with his love for his 
 Saviour into a great swelling passion.” 
 
 The Rev. Mr.- Hallock, on the same occasion, 
 said : “ How often have the noble words of this 
 
faithful servant (pillar in the church that he 
 was, pillar that he is) -thrilled us in our deepest 
 purpose, and made us strong for good. And 
 what a monument he left over there ! Gather- 
 
 ing those little ones r around him in the very 
 
 ■>/ 
 
 spirit of his Master, fitting them for their best, 
 
 ^ t 
 
 I see upon it the A words, ‘ inasmuch as ye did it 
 unto one of the least of these, ye did it unto me.’ 
 With quick wit, with earnest views of life, with 
 sound judgment and keen grasp of things im- 
 portant, I mark Dr. Knight as (in every thought 
 and fibre of his .mind-and heart) ^manly man. 
 Manliness he always had, and of the truest 
 Christian kind, while irfany of us found his 
 counsel safe, and his friendship beyond price.” 
 A friend who knew him well writes me: 
 
 r i > 
 
 “ Dr. Knight’s well-worn b6oks, outside his 
 specialty, and all that -bore upon sacred history 
 (of which he was an ardent student all his life) 
 were mainly history and biography. But he 
 devoured everything wiqLch came in his way — 
 light literature of all kinds, poetry, books upon 
 art, architecture, farming, —all sorts of things 
 that a man of much more leisure than he ever 
 had, could be excused from looking into-. 
 
i7 
 
 „ r 
 
 f <• 
 
 “ In his conversation his ‘ hobbies ’ were, 
 first, last, and always, ‘ the children,’ as he called 
 all the unfortunate who came under his care ; 
 next, religious subjects, to which he brought 
 all the life, and warmth, and charm of which he 
 was so much the master; their music, in which 
 he was so unusually gifted, and to which he 
 gave a devotion that would have brought him 
 fame had he not chosen ‘ better things ’ for a 
 
 ♦ j 1 
 
 life work. He was a zealot in temperance, a 
 practical as well as theoretical farmer; and 
 while he could make nothing, could direct the 
 mending of everything under the sun. 
 
 s * 
 
 “Dr. Knight was not especially fond of fish- 
 
 > ^ \ 
 
 ing, or hunting, except as it gave some one else 
 pleasure. His two Recreations were music and 
 horsemanship. Jt would be impossible to say 
 that he had any one peculiar line of thought in 
 conversation; ^ think, instead, that the secret 
 of his wonderful charm 'and magnetism was, 
 that he had the gift of 'being able to be wholly 
 absorbed, for the time/ in the especial interests 
 of those with whom he was associated. 
 
 y , 
 
 “ All who had the happiness of knowing Dr. 
 Knight knew him alike. } To-day the plainest, 
 3 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
/ 
 
 / 
 
 
 y 
 
 18 
 
 most ignoranbman in Lakeville would speak of 
 him with the same-appreciation of all his noble 
 qualities that in equal would, because in all that 
 he said or did^j&ere was always present the 
 essence of all tputli and uprightness.” 
 
 "/His energy was wonderful; whatever he 
 undertook he did with his whole heart. His 
 brother says; “ his mind was not rapid and 
 sparkling, but it was sagacious and sure.” I 
 should say that his perceptions were so rapid 
 and acute that a subject was examined and set¬ 
 tled while some were only beginning to con¬ 
 sider it; and his judgment was so' correct that 
 he was rarely at fault: his mind had such a 
 practical turn that he saw right to the bottom 
 of a thing at once. If he did not always express 
 his opinions with rapidity it was not because he 
 had. not thpught them out. In conversing with 
 „ hiiL ope would say, now this man has no non- 
 ; sense about him. All that he did he did with 
 his might, whether in the practice of his pro¬ 
 fession, in the management of his own affairs, 
 
 ^ in the teaching of his specialty, in his efforts in 
 the cause of temperance, in his labors in tjie 
 Sunday-school, in his duties in the church of 
 
19 
 
 which he was a deacon, in the jteish choir, or 
 in his aid of any measure of' interest in the vil¬ 
 lage, all this he did with his whole heart; nor 
 was it done grudgingly, or as if Jrorn necessity, 
 but with cheerfulness and sincerity. 
 
 He was, I think, a very plain, downright, 
 and outspoken man, who could be independent 
 
 'i 
 
 without" being offensive. When you wished 
 for his opinion you got it, and not so; over¬ 
 whelmed or bound up in words that you were 
 uncertain whether you had gotten an opinion 
 or not. He „cprtainly was kind and courteous ; 
 he was so by nature; and these were strength¬ 
 ened by his convictions. 
 
 As we see, our friend labored in all his voca¬ 
 tions most abundantly. His large head and 
 broad shoulders and well-developed frame af¬ 
 forded/, one would say, a good prospect for a 
 long life, and it was true. But no system, how¬ 
 ever strong, can always bear an excessive strain. 
 By and by there comes a break in it, and it 
 came to Dr. Knight, just as it has come to thou¬ 
 sands of other men, and will come to thousands 
 more who are neglectful of themselves. Strong 
 men admit this in general, and say that no one 
 
 \ 
 
has a right to so abuse his- own body, and yet 
 go right on doing the things they ought not, 
 hoping, probably, that the- inexorable law will 
 not be applied to themselves. And yet it must 
 
 \ * '“N I , 
 
 be confessed there is a certain amount of excuse 
 for these persojis, 4hdmn admiration of. their 
 powers we afe inclined to forgive or regard 
 lightly their special cases of sinning. With the 
 many instances of slothfulness, and selfishness, 
 and twaddling, and half-performance of duties 
 
 A " N 
 
 we so often see, it-i§ glorious, some'times, to find 
 a man with all his strength of mind and body, 
 conscious of his ability, exercising his full pow¬ 
 ers, not for himself alone but, as we have said, 
 (and* it is especially true of Dr. Knight,) for 
 . others. 
 
 During the many years I knew him I was 
 brought in contact with him on various occa¬ 
 sions and in many ways. Sympathizing with 
 him in his work, and visiting not unfrequently 
 at his house, I came to have a great admiration 
 for the man, and love fori the openness and sin¬ 
 cerity , of his life. His hospitality was un¬ 
 bounded, and it seemed a great pleasure if he 
 could add to the enjoyment of his friends. The 
 
/ 
 
 2i . 
 
 days which he gave to a number of his brethren 
 in roaming through the surrounding towns 
 were days long to be remembered. To men 
 
 r 
 
 relieved for a time from the constant visit to 
 the sick-room, they were most delightful, and 
 no one seemed to enjoy them more than the 
 host. , - 
 
 I domot consider myself competent to judge 
 
 ' N - , ‘ ' V 
 
 of him '' critically as a general practitioner. 
 Though we,..were living many miles apart, yet 
 I saw, occasionally, some of his cases, and was 
 
 very favorably impressed with his methods of 
 
 * 
 
 investigation and treatment. He had a way of 
 looking at the essentials of symptoms and repie- 
 dies which indicated his good common sense \ 
 he was not led astray by every new theory, or 
 captivated by every newly vaunted medical 
 agent. Though conservative, yet he was liberal 
 enough to use all means which promised for 
 good, according to his own convictions. 
 
 How much inclination he had for recreation, 
 or something outside of and different from his 
 ordinary work, I know not; a busy man like 
 him takes his recreation in his labor, and so en¬ 
 joys his life daily. But I have heard him speak 
 
 > 
 
22 
 
 occasionally of his visits to trout streams in his 
 neighborhood, and have no doubt that he en¬ 
 joyed such short diversions. 
 
 He was a very constant attendant at medical 
 meetings and conventions, State and National, 
 and was an industrious member, as I know; 
 and he especially enjoyed the gatherings of the 
 men of his own specialty. He was frequently 
 present at the meetings of the New England 
 Psychological Society, at Worcester. Perhaps 
 here was recreation for him, a little outside of 
 and change from his daily tread at home. He 
 was very regular in his attendance at the quar¬ 
 terly meetings of the Board of Medical Visitors 
 at the Retreat for the Insane, and his counsel 
 and advice were of much value, When the State 
 proposed to increase its accommodations for the 
 insane poor at Middletown, by new and less 
 expensive buildings, he gave the project his 
 sympathy, though it seemed to jeopardize an 
 appropriation for his own institution ; he was 
 ready and willing to aid at all times in measures 
 for the relief of the unfortunate. 
 
 His views on temperance were well known ,7 
 and he was often enlisted as a speaker. ,His/' 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 T N 
 
 t- 
 
23 
 
 brother says, “in 1874, while speaking at 
 Plantsville on the Physical Effects of Alcohol, 
 at the invitation of a well-known friend of tem¬ 
 perance, he was seized with intense pain in the 
 head and spine, so intense that while conclud¬ 
 ing he could not see the faces of his audience. 
 This was the beginning of his ill health. This 
 attack was the commencement of spinal irrita¬ 
 tion, and for many months he was an invalid. 
 After rest, and travel in this country and in 
 Europe, he was mainly restored to practical 
 business ability, although his health never fully 
 recovered. Continually in pain, much of the 
 time confined to his room, he nevertheless con¬ 
 ducted the affairs of his institution, was at his 
 post in the Sunday-school whenever possible, 
 and although strictly forbidden by his physi¬ 
 cians, still spoke occasionally in public on sub¬ 
 jects dear to his heart. The latter part of De¬ 
 cember last (1879) l ie left his home to spend the 
 winter in Florida, hoping for a comfortable 
 season, but was taken with severe symptoms at 
 Fernandina, and died on the twenty-second of 
 J January, of rupture of the gall-duct. 
 i M flr g...-. m i g ht be— oF— him—— doubtless 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
24 
 
 much more by his immediate neighbors —in 
 his praise, and in delineation of his character. 
 But enough has been written to show that he 
 was no ordinary man. I am thankful to have 
 had him for a friend, and as his friend to write 
 these words in remembrance. The language of 
 friendship may be the language of eulogy, but 
 here it is properly bestowed. He was indeed 
 a noble man, a man whose neighbors, even 
 to-day, now nine years after his death, are re¬ 
 garding him as more noble than when he went 
 in and out among them. The greatness of some 
 men goes before them, and is forgotten; the 
 greatness of others comes after them, and the 
 fragrance is lasting. 
 
 It r!' 
 
f. ? , wmmm