The Healing Arts: A Man Mid-Wife.

An interesting piece, addressing what was a great controversy, with people hotly on one side or another, as male physicians encroached on the world of childbirth. Additional information and sources under the image. Click for full size.

A Man Mid-Wife, Isaac Cruikshank, Etching coloured, 1793. Subject: John Blunt (pseud. S.W. Fores), Midwives, Surgical Instruments, Forceps.

A Man Mid-Wife, Isaac Cruikshank, Etching coloured, 1793. Subject: John Blunt (pseud. S.W. Fores), Midwives, Surgical Instruments, Forceps.

The text reads:

“A Man-Mid-Wife, or a newly discover’d animal, not Known in Buffon’s time; for a more full description or this monster, see, an ingenious book, lately published, price 3/6 entitled Man-Midwifery dissected, containing a variety of well-authenticated cases elucidating this animals Propensities to cruelty & indecency sold by the publisher of this Print who has presented the author with the above [illustration] for the Frontispiece to his Book.”

From the same source:

Summary

This etching illustrated a book criticizing (male) physician birth attendants–“man midwives”–today’s obstetricians. The etching shows a figure that is male on one side, female on the other. The male half stands on a plain wood floor next to a large mortar and pestle, holding an instrument labeled a “lever” in his hand, which is pressed against his thigh. The background seems to be a shop, with shelves lined with vials, bottles, and frightening looking instruments labeled “forceps,” “boring scissors,” and “blunt book.”

In contrast, the female half of the figure stands in a homey room on a decoratively carpeted floor; in her outstretched hand she holds a small cup. Behind her, a fire burns in a grate.

Commentary

This etching was made in 1793, at a time when middle-and upper-middle class English women were being attended by physicians rather than midwives at the births of their children. Midwives were left to attend the beds of birthing women too poor to afford the services of physicians.

At the time, however, criticism was leveled at physicians who chose to demean themselves by doing “women’s work,” with some suggestion that their only motivations must be prurient ones. (This latter accusation is hinted at by one of the bottles on the shelves of the man half of the man-midwife; it is labeled “love water.”).

Today, while few would accuse male ob-gyns of perversion (although male medical students who choose this specialty probably still raise eyebrows in some corners), questions about the proper place, methods, and attendants at childbirth still are debated. Only in the past three decades, for example, has the presence of fathers at childbirth been considered proper, and we still argue about home vs. hospital births, the use of midwives, training for midwives, and the place of technology and medication in normal births.

You can read a fair amount of what was written in the 18th century by people on both the pro- and anti- sides here.

Historian Ruby has an excellent rundown of the great controversy, where once again we encounter the scandal of Mary Toft in this excerpt:

Hugh Chamberlen, as well as being a physician, was also a speculative businessman, and when his proposed business dealings failed, his creditors forced him to flee abroad.  With his credibility damaged, he was lampooned in verse in 1699 in Hue and Cry After a Man-Midwife, Who has Lately Deliver’d the Land-Bank of their Money.  It was noted that ‘great belly’d ladies have mighty respect for’ the man-midwife, demonstrating that the fashion for men-midwives commenced in the seventeenth century and was not just an eighteenth century phenomenon.  The verse also alluded to the outrage that was displayed in some quarters by opponents of men-midwives, ‘Among his profession he’s fam’d as a topper, By some call’d a midwife, by others a groper,’ hinting at sexual improprieties that the man-midwife could commit once alone with vulnerable females.

Public suspicion of the medical profession ran deep in the eighteenth century, in part due to the non-secular society believing that decaying bodies tainted the men who practiced medicine, but also, medicine was considered the least prestigious of the professions and the physicians’ failure to cure illness and stave off death impacted the public’s perception of them.  The man-midwifery profession was further disparaged after several eminent London men-midwives supported Mary Tofts, who in the 1720s claimed to have given birth to a litter of rabbits.  The absurdity of their support of Tofts in her fraudulent claim led to professional ridicule.  Not only were the men of the medical profession considered asinine for agreeing with Tofts’ wild claims, there was a growing suspicion of the practitioner as a ‘corrupter of morals, a threat to female modesty and even as a libertine.’

Blunt’s book, Man-midwifery dissected ; or, the obstetric family-instructor : In fourteen letters, is available to read at the Internet Archive. You can also see the above image properly coloured as the frontispiece of the book.

The Healing Arts: Mixing A Recipe for Corns.

There will be much of George Cruikshank, caricaturist and printmaker coming up, but I felt this one deserved to be on its own, given the sheer amount of very weird detail. There seems to be an implication of witchery and/or paganism here. Interestingly, this one was one of the ones designed by Frederick Marryat, a British naval officer, and author. It’s interesting to note that In 1839, Marryat also published his Diary in America, a travelogue that reflects his criticisms of American culture and society. The book and the author were both subject to acts of violence, including the burning of the book and of Marryat’s effigy in public. It can be read for free at the link provided; I note that the e-books are also available through Barnes & Noble and Amazon.

There’s an astonishing amount of detail here. Note the painting hanging on the wall – an assault in progress. That earns a WTF? Then the Goddess detail on the mantel, with the dogs. Peacock feathers on the mantel, too. They were associated with witches, particularly those with healing arts. Then there’s the cat and dog, and screaming parrot, with the mouse in between. And what appears to be a Buddha on the mantel, and so. much. more. Click for full size!

Mixing A Recipe for Corns.

Anatomy Atlas Part 7 – Pelvis

This is the last drawing in the Anatomy atlas that is about skeleton.

Pelvis is most ingenous in many ways. Not only is the hip joint  bearing most of the weight, it is second most flexible joint in human body, with three axes of freedom just like the shoulder joint, only in lesser degree. Further the whole structure must be flexible enough to allow for birth.

Pelvis skeleton

©Charly, all rights reserved. Click for full size.

Today’s stories ar more sad than interesting and they are both about the skeleton we used for learning.

When teaching assistant brought the box with skeleton in the class her emphasised ” These are not casts, these are real bones. Please be aware that you are handling the remains of a real human being, so treat them with dignity. Memento mori – you too shall perish.”.

I was wondering why he feels the need to say that, we are all adults over twenty years of age, surely we need not be reminded of that like some adolescents? Well, not long after he has left the class one future gym teacher was showing off in front of a few of his laughing female classmates with a femur used as a microphone for pretend singing. My opinion of them all dropped significantly and I never forgot that sight. That was one of many proofs that in every social gathering will inevitably be someone who insist on being an asshole and someone who enables them in being an asshole.

Second story is about the dead man himself. He did not have completely fused os sacrum, with the top vertebra being free. And his whole pelvis was assymetrical and deformed on one side, with the openning for nervus ischiadicus being pinched and ground between that free vertebra and the fused rest. The teaching assistant told us that the man must have suffered from immense pain his whole life and that this was assumed to be the reason why he dies at relatively young age with probable cause of death being suicide by means of unknown poison. Whenever I remember that story I wish he had better options to deal with that problem.

No. That’s Just Wrong.

I was happily lost in The Public Domain Review the other day, and came across High Frequency Electric Currents in Medicine and Dentistry from 1910. I know there was great excitement over electricity, and there were phases of “miracle cures” where it was concerned, but in this case, it was the photos which got my attention, including one which just about had me screaming, and I’m not even a parent:

The text reads:

Plate XXII. – This beautiful picture (as exquisite as Manet’s “Boy with the Sword” which is one of the classics of the Painting Art), sets forth this boy bringing his pocket “Tesla” for the enjoyment of his beloved tonic. His sturdy strength at the age of three is a tribute to the efficacy of high frequency currents, for at the age of three days, when his treatment with them was begun, he was an illy-thriving and frail infant with but the feeblest hold on life. Look at him well, and think how many myriads of pallid children – of all ages – need the same remedy.

There is So. Much. Wrong. there, it just leaves me sputtering. Applying electrical currents to a three day old infant? All I can think is how very easily that could kill said infant. As for the photo being as exquisite as Boy with a Sword, let’s see:

L'Enfant à l'épée'' par Edouard Manet, 1861.

L’Enfant à l’épée’ par Edouard Manet, 1861.

Yeah, I don’t think there’s any honest comparison there at all. There are other questionable and frightening photos to be seen with the magical Tesla wand, but have a care, there’s some nudity, so NSFW.

The Healing Arts: Les Mangeurs d’Huitres, La Luxure, Le Magnetisme, Les Lunettes.

Still with Louis-Léopold Boilly. I know La Luxure is supposed to be creepy, but Boilly outdid himself there. :shudder: But I do love Le Lunettes. All images, click for full size.

Louis-Léopold Boilly, Les Mangeurs d'Huitres (aphrodisiacs), Lithograph, 1825.

Louis-Léopold Boilly, Les Mangeurs d’Huitres (aphrodisiacs), Lithograph, 1825.

Louis-Léopold Boilly, La Luxure (Lechery), Lithograph, 1824.

Louis-Léopold Boilly, La Luxure (Lechery), Lithograph, 1824.

Louis-Léopold Boilly, Le Magnetisme (Hypnotism), Lithograph, 1826.

Louis-Léopold Boilly, Le Magnetisme (Hypnotism), Lithograph, 1826.

Louis-Léopold Boilly, Les Lunettes (Eyeglasses), Lithograph, undated.

Louis-Léopold Boilly, Les Lunettes (Eyeglasses), Lithograph, undated.

Head Full of Thorns.

I’ve had thorns in my head for well over a week, and finally got started on drawing yesterday, still not done on that front, but I had to play with colour a bit today. I’ve been working late, then falling into bed, not scheduling anything on Affinity, so if I’m late, or space out regular features, blame the thorns in my head. This one is going to take a long time, too. It’s large, filled with detail, and I’m going with pencil instead of paint, which is always slower for me. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to work, I’m now consumed with the need. Bad photo:

© C. Ford, all rights reserved.

The Healing Arts: Les Sangsues, La Gourmandise, La Felicité Parfaite, & Les Ivrognes.

Still with Louis-Léopold Boilly. Click for full size!

Les Sangsues, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph,1827.

Les Sangsues, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph,1827.

La Gourmandise, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph,1824.

La Gourmandise, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph,1824.

La Felicité Parfaite, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph.

La Felicité Parfaite, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph.

Les Ivrognes, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph, 1828.

Les Ivrognes, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph, 1828.

The Healing Arts: Consultation de Medecins & Les Grimaces.

I’ll be indulging in a highlight of Louis-Léopold Boilly the next day or three. Boilly was an incredibly talented artist, with an extraordinary gift for portraiture. Looking at his paintings, you get a strong sense that you should not be staring in the window, looking at these people, because there is a profound intimacy in his paintings. The Geography Lesson (Portrait of Monsieur Gaudry and His Daughter) is a good example of this intimacy. I also think his portrait of Robespierre is the absolute best. Boilly was a prolific painter, producing a great many small portraits as well as full scale paintings. When it comes to Les Grimaces, I like Les Grimaces 3 best. I think. All images, click for full size!

Consultation de Medecins. 1760, Lithograph, Louis-Léopold Boilly.

Consultation de Medecins. 1760, Lithograph, Louis-Léopold Boilly.

Les Grimaces 1, Louis-Léopold Boilly, 1823.

Les Grimaces 1, Louis-Léopold Boilly, 1823.

Les Grimaces 3, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph, 1823.

Les Grimaces 3, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph, 1823.

Les Grimaces 8, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph, 1823.

Les Grimaces 8, Louis-Léopold Boilly, Lithograph, 1823.

The Healing Arts: Mary Toft, Stones In The Head, Elephantiasis.

A new series! The Harvey Cushing/John Hay Whitney Medical Library has an absolutely astonishing collection of old prints and drawings, all to do with medical matters. There are exquisite anatomical drawings, drawings of hospitals, and the like, but I won’t be posting those. There are wonderfully satirical prints, interesting characters, and depictions of certain maladies, etc., of which, many tickle my fancy. We’ll start with Mary Tofts, who drew a great deal of attention, from on high to low in her day, for giving birth to rabbits. (All images, click for full size.)

Mary Tofts of Godelman the pretended Rabbit Breeder, mezzotint, John Laguerre, c. 1726.

Mary Tofts of Godelman the pretended Rabbit Breeder, mezzotint, John Laguerre, c. 1726.

Moving on to…head stones! :D

Loopt loopt met groot... [Operation for Stones in the Head], Laid, Claes (Nicolas) Jansz Weydtmans.

Loopt loopt met groot… [Operation for Stones in the Head], Laid, Claes (Nicolas) Jansz Weydtmans.

I’m not at all sure what this is all about, it doesn’t look quite like trepanning, but who knows? One very interesting thing about this is that it leads to a painting by Hieronymus Bosch, called Cutting The Stone, aka The Extraction of the Stone of Madness. It’s quite clear that Bosch is not being complimentary to the medical profession. The Band Wire did a song about the painting, called The Madman’s Honey.

Finally, we have a scary look at Elephantiasis, [Warning: A very graphic photo at that link.] a most dread disease back in the day. Note that the woman depicted has 6 toes on each foot.

Woman with Elephantiasis, Laid, Anonymous, Italian, 18th Century.

Woman with Elephantiasis, Laid, Anonymous, Italian, 18th Century.