Man-midwifery got enough bad press in its day, in 18th century London. Smellie, Hunter, and their confreres have been amply vilified, justly or unjustly, for medicalizing the birth chamber. These chaps have since been heroes of the OB world on one side, and paragons of misogyny on the other. Without wishing to take sides, I couldn’t help but be amused by the latest assault on man-midwifery in the British press, particularly the online versions of The Guardian and the Daily Mail. It appears that New Zealander Don Shelton, writing in the Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine, now wants to paint them as serial murderers. Specifically, Shelton mounts the “case showing Smellie and Hunter were responsible for a series of 18th century ‘burking’ murders of pregnant women.”
The anatomy of the human gravid uterus exhibited in figures, by William Hunter.London, 1774.
Shelton’s article is largely devoted to providing a statistical look at the supply of bodies, most notably of pregnant women, available for dissection in 18th century London.He concludes that “the chance of them [Smellie and Hunter] receiving an undelivered corpse was tantamount to nil.”Shelton then asserts that their only recourse “must” have been ‘burking’ and hence rendered them at least accessory to murder.
Since I’m a historian by background and training, I prefer more convincing evidence than John Hunter’s “implied admission.”Others have voiced the same objection.Shelton’s conclusions have sparked a somewhat testy debate, especially on the blog Georgian London. Wendy Moore, biographer of John Hunter, offers this assessment in her comments on the JRSM site: “So while it is not impossible that the women in Hunter’s and Smellie’s atlases were murdered (it is not correct to describe them as being ‘burked’ since that term did not come into use until after the Burke and Hare murders in 1827) it is not possible to make out a case based on laws of probability.”
Or perhaps I prefer the Scots law verdict invoked by Wendy Moore: Not proven.
Jim Edmonson
p.s. – thanks to Christine and Marsha for the heads up on this one.
Few medical artifacts can be more intriguing and iconic than the obstetric manikin recently acquired by the Dittrick. Dating to the late 18th century, it served to train midwives in the mysteries of childbirth and delivery. It is modeled upon “la machine” of Madame du Coudray, the renowned midwife to Louis XV of France.
Last September I saw the original and best- preserved “machine” of du Coudray in the Musée Flaubert in Rouen, France. The Rouen manikin has all the bells and whistles, including large and small fetus, placenta, and even twins. Ours, in comparison, is a bare-bones model, but it still a very compelling artifact. We are indebted to the generosity of Trustees of the Cleveland Medical Library Association for their support of its acquisition.
I recently wrote to Nina Gelbart, author of The King’s Midwife -- a History and Mystery of Madame du Coudray, seeking her perspective on the Dittrick manikin. Professor Gelbart wrote back that “you've acquired something very rare, probably the only one in the US, and about which much can be said that is extremely important for medical history.” Additionally, the manikin is accompanied by Madame du Coudray’s Abrégé de l'art des accouchements [Summary of the art of childbirth] (1769), which features color plates of delivery technique.
We’ve invited Professor Gelbart to come to the Dittrick in the Fall and present her views on du Coudray, the use of her “machine” and text, and what it all tells us about midwifery and the rise of obstetrics in the 18th century. We’ll keep you posted on the details.
Jim Edmonson
For more on selected Dittrick artifacts and their intriguing stories, visit our website.
