Dr. Mary E. Pradt Harper (1858-1908)1“Mary E. Pradt Harper,” Memorial ID 18490896, Find A Grave, accessed June 20, 2020 practiced medicine in Mazomanie from 1896 to 1898.
Biography
Early life
Mary E. Pradt was born on October 4, 18582“Mary E. Pradt Harper,” Memorial ID 18490896, Find A Grave, accessed June 20, 2020 in Sheboygan, Wisconsin.3Mary E Pradl in Ward 2 Sheboygan, Sheboygan County, Wisconsin in “United States Census, 1860,” FamilySearch, accessed June 22, 2020 Her parents were Rev. John Brown Pradt, an Episcopalian clergyman, and Priscilla Elvira (Eels) Pradt. In the late 1860s, the Pradt family lived for a time in Mazomanie, where Rev. J. B. Pradt was the first pastor of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church.4Henry Howarth and Henry Z. Moulton, “Mazomanie,” in Madison, Dane County and Surrounding Towns (Madison, Wis.: Wm. J. Park & Co., 1877), 606 By 1870, however, the family had moved to Madison.5Mary Pradt in Ward 1 Madison, Dane County, Wisconsin in “United States Census, 1870,” FamilySearch, accessed June 23, 2020
Mary E. Pradt was married to Edwin D. Harper (18566Edwin D. Harper and Mary E. Pratt marriage record in “Michigan Marriages, 1868-1925,” FamilySearch, accessed June 25, 2020-19047“Ex-Railroad Physician is Dead,” Santa Fe New Mexican, August 3, 1904, Chronicling America, accessed June 21, 2020) on June 3, 1880 in Augusta, Michigan,8Edwin D. Harper and Mary E. Pratt marriage record in “Michigan Marriages, 1868-1925,” FamilySearch, accessed June 25, 2020 and again on August 17, 1880 in Madison, Wisconsin–this time with Mary’s father officiating.9Edwin D. Harper and Mary E. Pradt marriage record in “Wisconsin Marriages, 1836-1930,” FamilySearch, accessed June 25, 202010“Married,” Wisconsin State Journal, August 18, 1880, Newspapers.com, accessed June 26, 2020
After their marriage, the Harpers moved to Columbus, Ohio, where the both graduated from Starling Medical College (now the Ohio State University College of Medicine) in 1881.11Semi-Centennial Directory of the Alumni of Starling Medical College (Columbus, Ohio: Myers Brothers, 1898), 70
In New Mexico
George H. Pradt, Mary’s older brother, was living in New Mexico as early as 1873.12Santa Fe New Mexican, September 16, 1873, Newspapers.com, accessed June 25, 2020 It is perhaps due to his presence there that the Harpers moved to New Mexico. There is little information available about Edwin or Mary Harper in New Mexico prior to the late 1890s, but Dr. E. D. Harper is listed as a resident of Gallup, New Mexico as early as 1889.13Hearings Before the Subcommittee on Indian Affairs of the Committee on Interior and Insular Affairs, House of Representatives, Ninety-Second Congress, Second Session, on H.R. 11128, H.R. 4753, and H.R. 4754: To Authorize the Partition of the Surface Rights in the Joint Area of the 1882 Executive Order Hopi Reservation and the Surface and Subsurface Rights in the 1934 Navajo Reservation Between the Hopi and Navajo Tribes, to Provide for Allotments to Certain Paiute Indians, and for Other Purposes: Hearings Held in Washington, D.C. April 17 and 18, 1972, Serial No. 92-44 (Washington, U.S. Govt. Print. Off., 1972), 117
In Gallup, Dr. E. D. Harper was a physician and surgeon for the Santa Fe Pacific Railroad. He also had a private practice and hospital in Gallup.14“Dr. E. D. Harper Dead,” Las Vegas (NM) Daily Optic, August 2, 1904, Chronicling America, accessed June 21, 202015“Ex-Railroad Physician is Dead,” Santa Fe New Mexican, August 3, 1904, Chronicling America, accessed June 21, 2020
By the late 1890s, the Harpers were divorced. Edwin Harper was married to Sarah Bulkley (née Sapinhower) sometime before April, 1898.16“Coming Marriage,” Albuquerque Citizen, April 12, 1898, Newspapers.com, accessed June 25, 2020 In 1904, at the age of 48, Edwin Harper died at the New Mexico Territorial Insane Asylum in Las Vegas, New Mexico. According to his obituary, he died “due to hard drinking, in which he has indulged excessively for the past two years.”17“Ex-Railroad Physician is Dead,” Santa Fe New Mexican, August 3, 1904, Chronicling America, accessed June 21, 2020
From 1895 to 1896, Dr. Mary E. Pradt Harper took a post-graduate course at the University of Michigan. She was the only female resident graduate that school year.18Calendar of the University of Michgan, 1895-1896 (Ann Arbor, Mich.: The Inland Press, 1896), 279
As a doctor in Mazomanie
In September, 1896, Dr. Mary E. P. Harper returned to Mazomanie and opened up an office where she specialized in treating women and children. Her office was in the Gleason Building (on Hudson Street) along with Dr. Gleason.
Dr. Marie Harper has opened an office in this place for the practice of medicine, with rooms in the Gleason building. Mrs. Harper is a graduate of Starling Medical College, of Columbus, Ohio, and has recently taken a post-graduate course at the state university at Ann Arbor, Mich. She will make a specialty of treating the diseases of women, and invites your patronage.
Mazomanie Sickle, September 18, 189619Mazomanie Sickle, September 18, 1896
In June, 1898, Dr. Mary E. P. Harper left Mazomanie for Fort Defiance, Arizona, where she accepted a job at the Hospital of the Good Shepherd, a mission of the Protestant Episcopal Church on the Navajo reservation.
Dr. Mary E. P. Harper leaves this morning for Fort Defiance, Arizona, where she has been tendered and has accepted a position as physician in a hospital on the Indian reservation. Her daughter, Miss Pearl, leaves at the same time for Oakland, California where she will remain during the summer. Dr. Harper has practiced medicine here for a little more than a year and a half, and during that time has won for herself an enviable position both socially and professionally. She has a large circle of friends here who are sorry to have her depart. Dr. Harper says she will like her position as that part of the country is by no means new to her.
Mazomanie Sickle, June 24, 189821Mazomanie Sickle, June 24, 1898
A journey to Arizona
The September 2, 1898 issue of the Sickle contains the following letter from Dr. Harper to Mrs. M. E. Gleason in Mazomanie, describing Dr. Harper’s journey to Ft. Defiance, Arizona:
Navajo Hospital, Ft. Defiance, Ariz., Aug. 10th, 1898.
My Dear Friend:
You will think I have forgotten my promise to write you something about my journey to this far country and my new surroundings. Pearl and I left Chicago too late to view any of the scenery of eastern Illinois but there is nothing very picturesque in that region and the Mississippi was an old story. The little strip of Iowa we traversed is rolling prairie; then Missouri with its distant horizons, occasional hills and patches of tember [sic] along the water courses. On the Missouri river swift and sand-laden the country is more rugged and heavily timbered. Then comes Kansas apparently as flat as the surface of the vast inland sea of which it was once the bed. Monday morning brought the first view of Colorado scenery. We had been getting up in the world, the air during the night had grown wonderfully fresh, dry and clear. The mountains were appearing on the horizon. First Pikes Peak, the two beautiful Spanish Peaks, then the Snowy range or Sangre de Criste. (Blood of Christ.) Pikes Peak vanishes a mere blue cloud on the horizon, but the Spanish Peaks and the Snowy ranges grow more and more distinct. Close to Trinidad Fishers Peak looms up 10000 feet in the air the van guard of the Raton Range. It was delightfully refreshing on one of the hottiest [sic] days of summer to see the snow lying on the mountains only forty miles away, and the cool breeze blowing off the range continually tempers the heat of the sun shining from the Colorado blue. At Sopris where there are 200 coke ovens is seen a sight not inaptly termed by the natives “the Inferno”. At night especially when the whole sky is reddened by the crimson smoke, particularly if the wind is such that the sulphurous fumes assail our nostrils, the scene is a very realistic one. The river is not inaptly called the Purgatory. Along the valley of the Purgatory are many ranches, pictures of rural felicity; the soil is fertile water plenty and vegetables and fruits raised in abundance. The sun shines with almost tropical fervor but in the shade it is comfortably cool and the nights are always cool. Hot nights and sun stroke are absolutely unknown. I wish I could make you see the scenery up the valley of the Purgatory. The green of the valley, the sparkling blue of the river, the mysterious purple of the distant mountains. The ensemble is charming, beyond my powers of description. Then the joy of breathing the exhilarating atmosphere. At a turn in the road there are two rude crosses planted, each in a heap of loose rocks. Some funeral train has paused here and each mourner has cast a rock onto the pile supporting the cross.
The fourth of July found us in Trinidad. A real barbecue was in progress and the ox roasted whole was apparently appreciated by the hundreds of Mexicans thronging the streets. It was certainly a “fiesta” for them. Almost every body seemed to be in a comfortable state of inebriety; but there was no fighting. It was a noisy but good natured crowd and every body seemed happy.
From Trinidad the railroad winds its way up over the Raton range. One may look out of the car window and see the road winding up above one’s head. The grade is so steep that it takes two engines of the largest size to pull the train up to the top. One thing I forgot to say before leaving Trinidad; to the right of the city is a red sandstone cliff rising to a height of some hundreds of feet. A conspicuous monument surmounts the point of this cliff and is known as Simpson’s Rest. A romantic story is told of a party of prospectors being besieged on the summit by Indians. One of the survivors was a man named Simpson and the story is told that he slew his own son rather than have him fall into the hands of the bloody savages. But now comes one of the “oldest inhabitant” type who assured me that he was acquainted with Simpson during his whole career and that he never knew him to shed blood but once and that was when he fractured his wife’s skull with a frying-pan. So much for Simpson, however he rests peacefully let us hope in his lofty grave, where he wished to lie, his remains being transported there on the back of a lusty mule.
From Trinidad the railroad follows the old Santa Fe trail, the oldest human pathway on the continent, and at a distance of 15 miles from Trinidad the tunnel is reached at the summit of the Raton range, and at an altitude of 7622 feet, here we get a last view of the Spanish Peaks 11000 and 13000 odd feet above sea level. We enter the tunnel in Colorado and emerge in New Mexico.
Just to think that in 1540 the tireless Coronado brought his soldiers bent on conquest, over this very pass. The Pueblos dwelt then as they do now in their terraced houses, a peculiar people unlike the roving nomads about them and living their lives apart, fighting desperately for their independence and their homes.
The soil of New Mexico teems with history, the history makers of the continent were those Spanish explorers who found so curious a civilization already established in the new world, upon their advent.
There is something decidedly oriental about New Mexican architecture. The houses are built largely of adobe, bricks of clay mixed with straw and sun-dried. Of course in any but a dry climate they could not stand a season but here there are ruins that have been standing centuries.
The last stage of my journey was by wagon, nearly 40 miles from the railroad through a country where there is not a house to be seen. But as we get farther away from the railroad we begin to meet herds and flocks attended by savage looking Navajos. These are real Indians in their picturesque native costume. The country becomes more and more rugged, the road takes us through valleys between lofty mountain ranges. For a long distance there are visible some curious sandstone formations called the Haystacks. They resemble those familiar objects in form if not in color being of a yellowish red and standing 75 or 100 feet in height. Near the Haystacks is another natural curiosity. This is a cliff several hundred feet in height perforated by an oval hole. It is curious to see the blue sky shining through the cliff.
Our hospital is located in a broad valley, on a little rise of ground. All around the horizon presents a view of mountains. Not a building in sight except a few Navajo hogans, Ft. Defiance less than a mile away lies beyond the next Mesa, and consists of perhaps a dozen buildings. The Navajo agency is located there, the government schools for Navajos and a few government buildings for employes.
There are nearly 20,000 Navajos on the reservation, which is partly in New Mexico and partly in Arizona. They are regular nomads, going from place to place in search of pasturage and water for their flocks and herds. They build temporary dwellings of stone or mud, roofed over with brush, and when they move they leave them. When a death occurs they leave the body in the hogan, seal up the door with mud and depart. No Navajo will go any where near a hogan where a death has occurred. They have a great many curious superstitions and customs. They will not kill a snake nor a bear. They regard a bear as possessed of evil spirit, to kill would be to invite disaster. They believe that the spirits of women after death enter the bodies of snakes hence will not kill them.
They have a mother-in-law joke which has come down from antiquity. It is considered bad luck for a man to meet his mother-in-law hence he always avoids her. On approaching a hogan where she is likely to be he sends word or gives a warning cry and she makes her self scarce.
My work so far has been far from monotonous and my job is no sinecure. In this country a dry watercourse is often converted suddenly into a raging torrent. Rains in the mountains bring about this sudden change in the landscape. One evening I crossed a creek dry shod and less than an hour later waded more than knee deep to avoid spending the night in a Navajo hogan already too densely populated. I was none too soon as five minutes later the stream was absolutely impassable.
Another day I was caught in one of those sudden mountain storms and wet through before I could ride to a hogan for shelter, and when I got there I concluded I preferred the rain outside to the company inside and the various streams pouring through the brush roof were worse than the steady pour outside, so I kept on a mile further and reached the hospital as wet as if I had been in the river. There are a few experiences in this “wild woolly” country. I ride miles every day to widely separated hogans and quite enjoy it. Usually the skies are beautiful blue and the scenery ever varying changes of mountains and range upon range with now and again an isolated peak presenting outlines of fantastic beauty.
I wish I could make you see this country as it appears to me. There is certainly nothing grander or more soul satisfying than a mountainous country. At dawn when the dainty bands of opalescent color tint the sky, and all nature is wrapped in a wondrous hush of expectancy it almost seems as if one might sense the rush of earth through space. In that supreme moment the miracle, ever old, ever new, is impending, the birth of day. The glorious God of day springs from behind a mountain top and life is again pulsing throughout nature.
But when the sun has gone and that mysterious eidolon we call night reigns supreme, and a sable mantle is spread over all things, the solemn stars shine as they do no where else. Hanging apparently in mid air they blaze like jewels, in their setting of night. A thousand mysterious sounds spring up from earth baffling to the ear. But when we gaze into the immensity of the blue vault above and try to realize what space and time mean, we realize the futility of it all, the triviality of everything within our sphere of knowledge. We long to lift the veil that hides all things from our mundane sight, to fathom the depths of that mysterious immensity, to read the secrets of the stars, to explore realms that we in our finite littleness cannot dream of.
Well this letter looks like a piece of intellectual crazy patchwork, but you must take the will for the deed, and try to imagine that it is a properly written letter.
Your very sincere friend, Mary E. P. Harper.
“Letter From Arizona,” Mazomanie Sickle, September 2, 189822“Letter From Arizona,” Mazomanie Sickle, September 2, 1898
At Fort Defiance, Arizona
In August, 1898, Dr. Mary E. P. Harper arrived at the Hospital of the Good Shepherd in Fort Defiance, Arizona, after a brief stop at the town in which she used to live–Gallup, New Mexico.23“Gallup,” Albuquerque Daily Citizen, August 5, 1898, Chronicling America, accessed June 20, 2020 The superintendent of the mission, Miss Eliza W. Thackara, said the following about Dr. Harper in a letter to the Bishop not long after her arrival:
She is wonderfully fitted for this work. She is a very small woman, but can endure long journeys (on horseback) over the mountains, camping out at night. Her acquaintance is already quite extensive, and the Indians are delighted with her. I wish I could tell you half the interesting experiences she has had, and what she brings to the hospital.
J. Rockwood Jenkins, The Good Shepherd Mission to the Navajo, 2224J. Rockwood Jenkins, The Good Shepherd Mission to the Navajo (Phoenix, AZ: Mimeographed by the Record Reporter, 1956), 22
The October, 1898 issue of The Indian’s Friend (the official publication of the Women’s National Indian Association) described (with the prejudices of the time on full display) a visit to Fort Defiance during Dr. Harper’s tenure there:
At Fort Defiance, Arizona, under the care and presiding of Miss Thackara, is a noble and successful institution and deserves the generous support of all members of the Protestant Episcopal Church, under whose Board it is managed. A visit there in September confirmed all previous good reports of its work and gave pleasant opportunity to witness its services of many kinds. Not only is its surgical department a marked success under the skillful and experienced care of Dr. Harper, the new resident lady physician, but its constant help in way of general civilization among the Indians, one of whom has built his cottage of the same pinkish gray stone as that of the hospital’s lower story, is widely felt.
Recently, an Indian babe of two years was relieved by the surgeon’s kind knife there of a superfluous finger on each hand, and of a sixth toe on each foot; an adult Indian had a tumor on his head safely removed, and our eyes saw a very interesting elderly chief relieved, after six days of suffering, of a burrowing insect in his ear, the persistent and elusive pest being killed by chloroform and flooded out with oil, and water, to the joy of the sufferer who strode off to his home thirty miles away where his two small children, wholly alone and provided only with goat’s milk, tended his flocks during his three days’ absence. The doctor has been kept constantly busy and not only with her work indoors, but with a large outside practice among those unable to come to the hospital, and the kindness experienced by the Indians has already moved them in some remarkable cases to break through the bonds of old superstitions, as when an old family desired, and attended, the Christian burial for their dead, even riding home in the wagon which had carried the body to burial, a marvelous change for those who formerly could not be persuaded to touch or go near a dead body for fear of evil spirits.
Amelia S. Quinton, “The Navajo Hospital,” in The Indian’s Friend, October, 1898, 7-825Amelia S. Quinton, “The Navajo Hospital,” in The Indian’s Friend, October, 1898, 7-8
A letter from Dr. Harper to her daughter from October, 1898 described a house call:
The following extract from a letter written by Dr. Mary E. P. Harper to her daughter, Miss Pearl, illustrates some of the difficulties of practicing medicine on the Navajo Indian Reservation in Arizona.
Saturday noon a woman came to ask me to go to see her brother. I could not make out how far it was but after dinner got ready to go and at [unclear] Nelsie, my interpreter, and I started. The woman agreed to meet us a few miles from the hospital and accompany us; we meet her and rode on together over trails until sunset. Just as the sun was setting redly behind the distant mountains, we arrived at a trading store where we were allowed to stop all night. I occupied a cot in the store, while Nelsie spent the night in the chicken house, much to his disgust and discomfort, as the night was cold. The altitude is 8500, so no wonder it was chilly. Sunday morning we started on at 8 o’clock. The squaw appeared from some hogan were she had found shelter, and we rode up for 8 miles, to the summit of Cotton Wood Pass, an elevation of [unclear] feet.
As our guide favored trails, we went up some fearful places. I pitied Bird having to pack me up these steep and rocky trails, but it was out of the question for me to climb, especially at that altitude. On top of the mountain it was level and park like, while big pines, spruces, hemlocks and cotton woods stood in thick array. After a ride lasting until noon, we arrived at the edge of the mountains and looked down thousands of feet on the desert. The Two Gray Hills, where two missionaries live, lay eight miles away, 60 miles from the hospital. Then we went down a trail so steep it ran back and forth until we reached a lower level above the desert, and found the sick man. Spent an hour there, during which time, we were fed on Navajo mutton, coffee and musk melons. At 2 p. m. we started back to the traders store, and at 5 p. m. arrived there. Nelsie was anxious to go right on. I was tired, having ridden over 50 miles since 8 a. m. but to please him agreed after a rest to proceed. So at 10 o’clock we started. The first thing that happened Bird became frightened and began to plunge and rear to such an extent that we landed head first in some hole or gully. I managed to stick in the saddle, although I was hanging in an uncomfortable position, head down. By hanging on the bridle for dear life, brought her to her feet, and she plunged out and by the time Nelsie had got off his horse to assist me, had her in hand. Whether it was a “chinde Navajo devil” as the squaw suggested, or a bear encamping upon the mountain side, is uncertain; I did not see anything, so I will give them both the benefit of the doubt.
Next we lost our trail and every one branched out to find it. My two Indians started in a direction they deemed right, and although I do not wish to depreciate the famed native sagacity in the matter of direction, I soon saw by the stars that they were on the back trail and persuaded them to turn about. A little later we struck the road and kept it. Imagine us traveling all night by the light of the stars. They gloomy mountains on each side, their black shapes blotting out ever the anon the familiar constellations which gradually changed their positions in the sky as the night drew on. A big Navajo blanket afforded a grateful protection against the frosty night.
About 3 p. m. our guide left us and an hour later the dim outlines of the landscape assumed a familiar outline and presently the hospital loomed in sight–welcome vision.
“A Letter from Arizona,” Mazomanie Sickle, October 21, 189826“A Letter from Arizona,” Mazomanie Sickle, October 21, 1898
She continued in this role until December, 1899, when she resigned and moved back to Gallup, New Mexico to set up a practice. Miss Thackera later wrote, “Miss Harper was tired of this hard work.” She added, “But, her zeal gave out!”27J. Rockwood Jenkins, The Good Shepherd Mission to the Navajo (Phoenix, AZ: Mimeographed by the Record Reporter, 1956), 24
At the Rebecca Collins Memorial Hospital
Evidently, the relatively easy life in Gallup did not appeal to Dr. Harper greatly, as just a month later, she was planning to take a position at the Rebecca Collins Memorial Hospital, a Methodist Episcopal mission hospital, on the Navajo reservation at Jewett (now Waterflow), New Mexico:
Plans for the coming year were discussed at the January meeting of the New York City association. It was resolved to raise $400 towards the support of Dr. Harper in the Rebecca Collins Memorial Hospital at Jewett, New Mexico, in addition to the $150 towards the stable which is to be built.
The Indian’s Friend, February, 1900, 428The Indian’s Friend, February, 1900, 4
She began her work there on April 1, 1900.29Albuquerque Daily Citizen, March 21, 1900, Chronicling America, accessed June 21, 202030Las Vegas (NM) Daily Optic, April 7, 1900, Chronicling America, accessed June 20, 202031Valerie Sherer Mathes, ed., The Women’s National Indian Association: A History (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2015), 163 According to the issue of The Indian’s Friend from just two months later, she reported treating 112 patients from her arrival to the time of her writing.32The Indian’s Friend, June, 1900, 5
Enumerating the Navajo
On May 28, 1900, Dr. Mary E. P. Harper departed for Fort Defiance to take part in taking a census of the Navajo:33El Paso (TX) Herald, May 10, 1900, Newspapers.com, accessed June 24, 2020
From Dr. Harper, we learn also that arrangements are completed by which she will take a share in the census-taking during the month of June among the Navajo Indians. This assistance was earnestly asked for by the government officials since there are few who so well know the Indian language and the people, and at the same time possess their confidence, as does Dr. Harper. In the meantime work at the hospital is lighter than usual at this season of the year and an arrangement has been made by which her place will be occupied during her absence.
The Indian’s Friend, June, 1900, 534The Indian’s Friend, June, 1900, 5
Dr. Harper wrote, utilizing the language and attitudes of the day, about her experiences enumerating the Navajo in a letter to the president of the Women’s National Indian Association:
Dr. Mary Pradt Harper who, at the earnest request of government officials, assisted in the late census taking, in a letter to the president of our Association, thus describes some of her experiences in that work.
“Now that my census work is done, I shall try to tell you somewhat of my rather unique experience among the Navajos. Starting on the 28th of May I reached Fort Defiance the next evening; an Indian accompanied me as I was taking a pack horse. The first few days my work was about the Fort so I was able to get in every night to comfortable quarters at the Agency. Then it was necessary to take longer trips and with a schoolboy interpreter I set out one Monday morning. That night I camped in a Navajo hogan or rather kin, which means house. My hostess invited me to join the family in their evening meal. This consisted of a stew of mutton, served in a granite utensil of a kind not usually seen, native bread and coffee. My portion of the stew was served to me in a saucer; the rest of the family sat around, each dipping his or her spoon into the utensil, until it was empty. The house was of stone, containing one room about fifteen feet by eighteen. The two windows were not made to open, so when bed-time came and a dozen natives camped down on their sheep-skins, the air was rather thick as they persisted in keeping the door closed. In the morning the old squaw was up early and after performing her ablutions in the frying-pan proceeded to wash up the dishes from the night before and finally to fry the mutton for breakfast in the same useful article. My appetite was rather poor that morning. This family is considered very well to do and their stone house is a mansion compared with the ordinary brush or mud hogan or hut of the natives, but is as scantily furnished as one can well imagine, there being neither beds, chairs, tables, cook-stove nor any of the articles considered necessary to the poorest household. A few sheepskins and blankets, a very meagre supply of cooking utensils and dishes, a few articles of clothing hanging over a pole suspended from a rafter were all. The fire-place although rude is quite a luxury as the natives usually make the fire on the earth floor and the smoke escapes through the hole in the roof left for that purpose.
“Next we were located at the house of a half-blood, Henry Dodge or ‘Chee,’ probably the best known and most influential member of the tribe. Here I had a comfortable room and Mr. Dodge did every thing in his power to help me in my work. After a few days’ work in the vicinity I moved my supplies to Moore’s trading post. From this point I was obliged to go such long distances that it was economy of time to camp out. I had engaged a guide for this part of my work, a regular savage, one who knew the country and every trail through the mountains. He was blind of one eye and could never have boasted of any amount of beauty at any time; his grizzled hair was tied into a knot with cotton twine; about his head he wore a black rag, the remains of a silk handkerchief; his shirt was of gaudy calico; his nether garments were cheap trousers of American make, and his feet were encased in the usual buckskin moccasins. My cavalier avantes rode ahead, occasionally looking back with a hideous one-eyed grin intended for a reassuring smile. From sunrise until sunset we rode through mountain trails hunting for sheep camps, as in summer the Navajos drive their sheep up out of the heated valleys into the cool mountain benches where water is plenty. I found my gentle savage most helpful; by daylight the horses were run in and fed, the fire made, and my coffee boiling before I had emerged from my blankets. I carried my own coffee and some light provisions, but usually managed to strike a hogan at noon and get some native bread, and mutton stewed or broiled on the coals. Sometimes I slept out under the stars, sometimes under a rude shelter of brush and poles at a sheep camp. It is not altogether pleasant to sleep within a few feet of a flock of sheep and goats huddled close to the fire kept burning in front of the shelter to scare away the bears and wolves. Frequently my guide pointed out bear tracks but we encountered no bears. It is not exactly agreeable to feel sheep ticks traveling across your countenance, or to have sand rattle down from the open-work roof upon your head, and sleeping in one’s clothes becomes monotonous; but one realizes how very few our real necessities are.
“I had intended spending the last night at Little Water School with Mrs. DeVore, as my work was in that direction at the last. But night overtook us in the mountains and we were obliged to camp at a sheep-camp, where we found an old man and two young girls; they pointed out a hogan for us to sleep in. It was a beautiful hogan, built of peeled logs of uniform size; was pentagonal in shape, and unusually large and high. It was evidently a medicine lodge. Lifting the blanket which did duty as a door I discovered a small fire burning in the centre of the hogan and near it an old man reclined on a sheep-skin. My guide soon replenished the fire and put on the coffee pot. The old man who owned the sheep brought us some native bread in a basket of Navajo make, and with some canned meat our bill of fare was complete. Presently another native appeared, a visitor. One of the girls brought in several sheep-skins for my bed. I rolled myself in a blanket and soon slept. Old man number one, the visitor, and my guide all slept in the hogan also.
“One would not choose I suppose to camp in a hogan with three half-naked savages; but my slumbers were not at all disturbed in consequence of such company. Almost before daylight my gentle savage was up and out after the horses, and before sunrise had my coffee ready. He brought me a highly decorated bowl such as the natives use, full of clear water, and I made a slight toilet. The native ‘whole wheat’ bread was rather hard, but by soaking it in the coffee it was possible to eat it. Reserving two of the flat cakes for our dinner we returned the basket to the owner, and learning that the trail to Little Water was rocky and steep and the distance considerable, I concluded to work along towards Fort Defiance and get in there by night. We found the trails so bad that it was necessary often to get down and lead the horses. Going up was hard on the horses, and going down was hard on the rider’s nerves. Sometimes the trail is a mere shelf, a cliff above, a gorge below; a slip, a stumble, and an accident was inevitable.
“By noon we were riding along the bank of a deep arroga [sic] with a stream tumbling over the bottom. After riding some distance we found a way down to the water and were gratified to find it good and cold. Letting the horses drink all they wanted we refreshed ourselves and climbed out of the arroga [sic], the Indian carrying a coffee-pot full of water. He soon had a fire and boiled the last of the coffee; the two dry cakes soaked up in it constituted our dinner. Then on again down steep trails we went into a valley apparently hemmed in on every side by high cliffs. But as we rode on an exit into another similar valley appeared, and from that we rode into the big Defiance Valley. The steep rocky walls of one side of the beautiful Canon Benito were visible several miles away, and at its mouth is located the Navajo Agency, Fort Defiance, where we arrived about 5 p. m. I was glad to have a bath and to exchange my divided skirt, bloomers, buckskin leggings and moccasins for a more civilized garb. This will perhaps give you a glimpse at a few pages of what seems to me as I look back like a large volume of experiences. I am extremely glad of the opportunity this trip gave me of seeing more intimately the daily life of the Navajos. It has been a great object lesson. As to what I think I have learned from it, that is another chapter.”
“Taking an Indian Census,” in The Indian’s Friend, August, 1900, 2, 1135“Taking an Indian Census,” in The Indian’s Friend, August, 1900, 2, 11
Illness
Shortly after returning to her duties at the hospital, Dr. Harper traveled to Durango, Colorado on horseback. She arrived in Durango on August 28, 1900, after covering over 40 miles in one day. On September 1, 1900, she was taken to the hospital after suffering a stroke. The supposition was that the exertion of the trip was at least partially to blame:
Mrs. Mary Predt [sic] Harper a physician of Jewett, New Mexico, was taken to the Mercy hospital Saturday evening suffering from paralysis of the left side. Dr. Harper rode in from Jewett horseback, arriving at Durango Tuesday. Over forty miles were covered in one day and it is thought that this excess of physical exertion hastened a breakdown. Dr. McLain was called in Thursday. He is hopeful for recovery.–Durango “Democrat.”
“Extracts From Exchanges,” Las Vegas (NM) Daily Optic, September 5, 190036“Extracts From Exchanges,” Las Vegas (NM) Daily Optic, September 5, 1900, Newspapers.com, accessed June 23, 2020
Her convalescence appears to have stretched at least into October,37“Gallup Items,” Albuquerque Weekly Citizen, September 15, 1900, Chronicling America, accessed June 21, 202038The Indian’s Friend, October, 1900, 4 but she was evidently healthy enough to travel by December, as she reportedly traveled from Jewett to Gallup at that time:
The Gallup Gleaner says: “Dr. Mary E. Harper and her daughter Miss Pearl, arrived on Thursday from Jewett, N. M. They are the guests of Mr. and Mrs. W. A. Smith. The ladies will probably remain in Gallup until spring when they expect to go east.”
San Juan County (Aztec, NM) Index, December 14, 190039San Juan County (Aztec, NM) Index, December 14, 1900, Chronicling America, accessed June 21, 2020
Move to Tohatchi, New Mexico
Dr. Harper’s next reported move was in January, 1903, when she moved to Tohatchi, New Mexico:
Major G. W. Hazylett, agent of the Navajos at Fort Defiance, came in this week, and accompanied Dr. Mary E. Harper to her new field of duties at Tohatchie. Major Hazylett has eleven Indian prisoners at Defiance from whom he is trying to get some information in regard to the murder of Chas. Kyle.
“Gallup,” Albuquerque Weekly Citizen, January 31, 190340“Gallup,” Albuquerque Weekly Citizen, January 31, 1903, Chronicling America, accessed June 20, 2020
Death
Dr. Mary E. Pradt Harper died December 16, 1908, in Madison, Wisconsin, at the age of 50, of a stroke:
Word came from the hospital on Wednesday morning of the death of Mrs. Mary Pradt Harper. The childhood, youth and many of the maturer years of Mrs. Harper’s life were spent in Madison. Here she was educated and married and after graduating at the Rush Medical college, went with her husband, also a physician, to New Mexico to minister to the needs of the Indians. Her father, the Rev. J. B. Pradt was for many years, editor of the Journal of Education and Assistant state superintendent. In his earlier and later years he was a clergyman of the Episcopal church and his energies were spent freely for its interests. With like singleness of purpose, Mrs. Harper gave of her skill and strength to the practice of her profession. As the result of a long exhausting horse back ride to a village sixty miles distant from her home, she was stricken with paralysis and was for years a helpless invalid. In the hope of relief she was brought by a devoted daughter from Arizona some six weeks ago and placed in the hospital. Her death was the result of another paralytic stroke, a few days ago. Notice of the funeral will be given later.
Wisconsin State Journal, December 17, 190841Wisconsin State Journal, December 17, 1908, newspapers.com, accessed June 20, 2020
Children
Edwin D. Harper and Mary E. (Pradt) Harper had one child:
- Pearl Harper (1882-1971)42Pearl Harper in Gallup, Bernalillo County, New Mexico in “United States Census, 1900,” FamilySearch, accessed June 22, 202043“Pearl H. Davies,” Memorial ID 188301285, Find A Grave, accessed June 22, 2020 married Edward H. Davies (1877-1938).44Edward Henry Davies in Farmington, San Juan County, New Mexico in “New Mexico Deaths, 1889-1945,” FamilySearch, accessed June 21, 202045“Edward Henry Davies,” Memorial ID 55795299, Find A Grave, accessed June 21, 2020 From 1911 to 1926, they ran the Two Grey Hills Trading Post near Newcomb, New Mexico. They later lived in Farmington, New Mexico, where they ran a grocery store. After Edward’s death, Pearl lived in Camden, Arkanasas. They had three children: Mary Jane Davies, Robert Edward Davies, and Edith Mabel Davies.46Pearl Davies in Navajo Indian Reservation, San Juan County, New Mexico in “United States Census, 1920,” FamilySearch, accessed June 21, 202047Pearl H Davies in Farmington, San Juan County, New Mexico in “United States Census, 1930,” FamilySearch, accessed June 21, 202048Pearl Davies in Southwest Farmington, San Juan County, New Mexico in “United States Census, 1940,” FamilySearch, accessed June 21, 2020
Census records
- 1860 United States Census in Sheboygan, Sheboygan County, Wisconsin
- 1870 United States Census in Madison, Dane County, Wisconsin
Last Updated on November 10, 2024 by Andy Szudy
References