“It is difficult to treat of this subject (times of Louis XV.) without disclosing particulars at which purity may blush, or on which licentiousness may gloat; but general observations make little impression on the mind even of the most reflecting reader, if not attended with a detail of facts which proves that it is well founded; and one authentic example of the manner of the court and aristocratic circles in Paris, anterior to the Revolution, will produce a stronger conviction than whole chapters of assertion. All that we read in ancient historians, veiled in the decent obscurity of a learned language, of the orgies of the ancient Babylon, was equalled, if not exceeded, by the nocturnal revels of the Regent Orleans, the Cardinal Dubois, and his other licentious associates.”[6] Such is a faithful picture of the manners and vices of the age and country in which the custom of man-midwifery took its rise. Here and there a bright star shone out, the brighter for the blackness of that hideous night: men of the highest order of mind did all that great eloquence and vigorous thought could do to stay the strong and turbid current of pollution which threatened to overwhelm the human race, and amongst these great spirits of the past, the physician Roussel, in a work remarkable for the delicacy of its sentiments, the force of its satire, and the strength and power of its language, endeavoured to turn the attention of his countrymen to the indecency of the practice which was first adopted in the harlot De la Valiere’s chamber.[7] In some measure he succeeded; but who can wonder if, in that vicious age, his eloquence had passed unheeded, and the delicacy of his sentiments had been scoffed at and derided by the charlatans of the day, in a city where adultery was the fashion, and marriage but a cloak for vice. The causes which then prevented the writings and counsels of these eminent men from taking full effect upon the public mind, no longer exist; and, accordingly, in that very Paris, where, in former times, amidst such scenes of vice and profligacy as the historian describes, the immodest practice originated, has since sprung up an agitation against it, which is increasing day by day. Colleges, both metropolitan and provincial, have long been established for the instruction of females in the obstetric “art,” and many of those women, who have been educated in them, possessed such talents and intelligence that the treatises written by them have become the acknowledged text books of the French medical world.
Madame Boivin[8] in the dedication of her “Mémorial de l’Art des Accouchements,” 4me ed., says:—“Moved and affected by the painful cries which mothers, victims of barbarity and ignorance, caused to be heard from far, the Government hastened to reply to them by establishing a practical School of Midwifery within the Lying-in Hospital: from all parts were summoned, not men but women, to come and assist at the lectures of the most eminent professors of surgery and medicine.... Already a great number have, from this fertile source of instruction, derived the knowledge and the qualities necessary for the exercise of an art so important in its results to the population of the kingdom and the happiness of families.” In the preface to the above treatise, 4me ed., p. 10, we read the following allusion to the practice on this side the channel; “Thus you will find in this edition some novel remarks ... on certain cases of difficult labour, and on the operative process practised in these cases, so brutally treated by practitioners beyond sea, and in a manner so simple and so happily different by us, especially at the School of Midwifery in Paris.”
And what are we about in “moral England,” all this time? Where are our colleges of instruction, to which we have summoned “not men but women”—our Hospices de la Maternité,[9] wherein and whereby we may preserve the modesty of our women? Where is the voice to cry shame upon the custom which introduces men into the sacred precincts of the marriage chamber to perform offices which are, by nature, the duty of women alone?[10] Shall it be said that two thousand years ago the Romans possessed a higher sense of moral feeling than we do now? Roussel says, “The principal reason which, among the ancients, forbade the belief that the duty of aiding delivery could be proper to any but women—excepting in cases of very rare occurrence, where every consideration might necessarily yield to a pressing danger—was the grand interest of manners. This was an object to which ancient Governments had always special regard. They knew morality to be the foundation of all legislation, and that good laws would be made in vain unless good morals insured their execution. The cruelty of Archagathus’ surgical operations drove the doctors from Rome. She banished also from her bosom the Greek philosophers and orators who were accused of having introduced and cultivated the taste for the arts and vices of Greece. She would surely not have permitted, for any length of time, the existence of an art, which, practised by men, would, under the specious pretence of utility, threaten the sanctuary of marriage, and which, striking a blow at the chief safeguard of families, would next attack the mainsprings of the state; an art which, with power to alarm the modesty of women, would soon leave them without a blush,[11] and cause them to lose even the recollection of that severe virtue which had merited the respect and veneration of the Romans, and which of old had been the principle of the grandest revolutions. Cato, always careful to protect the hearts of the citizens from corruption, would never have permitted their wives, when presenting children to the republic, to tarnish the boon by a forgetfulness of the first of all decencies.”[12]
“The Greeks,” says Dr. Stevens, “invariably employed women; Phanarete, the mother of that distinguished man, Socrates, was a midwife. Hippocrates makes mention of them; and Plato speaks somewhat extensively of midwives, and explains their duties.” “We have reason to believe,” says Dr. Denman, “that the obstetric art was altogether in the hands of women, the natural delicacy of females having reluctant recourse to the professional aid of the other sex.”
Hecquet says, “The Greeks, moreover, had their female physicians, as we perceive by the words ακεστρίδες and εατρίναι, which have been preserved to us.”
“Such was the chasteness of the times, that lithotomy on the female subject was practised by one of their own sex. At Athens the positive enactments of the land were inefficient to overcome their scrupulous modesty. It is said the Athenian doctors procured a legal enactment transferring the practice of midwifery to themselves; but at the very attempt the women rose en masse, and declared they would die rather than submit to such an outrage upon common decency.... The Romans[13] also employed women only. Pliny, in his Natural History, speaks of midwives,[14] explains their duties, and mentions some of great reputation. According to Roman law, midwives were recognized as a distinct class in society, and enjoyed certain rights and immunities in common with the medical profession.”[15]
We have shown, on the testimony of medical writers, that the practice of man-midwifery was introduced in France, or rather in Paris, for it was never generally adopted in the provinces,[16] so early as the end of the seventeenth century; but more than a hundred years elapsed before the unnatural and debasing custom became fashionable in England: and we find that late in the eighteenth century it was considered so objectionable, that few persons, excepting in those rare cases where danger was imminent, ever permitted “a medical man” to usurp the duties of the midwife: and it is only within the last fifty years that man-midwifery has prevailed in these kingdoms. Indeed Dr. Ramsbotham, in 1845, in the preface to his work on obstetric medicine and surgery, alludes to the difficulty which it would appear had not even then been entirely got rid of, in overcoming the very natural aversion of women to the regulations of midwifery practice as laid down in the many swollen and prurient treatises on the “pretended art.”
Nothing appears more extraordinary, or more opposed to all our preconceived notions of propriety, than that this man should bustle into the marriage chamber, our holy of holies, with so much privileged assurance, and that the world should look upon the affair with such perfect indifference. But we suppose that his presence is a necessary evil, and the whole proceeding quite a matter of course, in which “sensible people” see no harm whatever; honi soit qui mal y pense. Some such train of ideas may have been suggested by the arrival of Dr. A. B. or C., M.D. and accoucheur, whom you, perhaps, still young in the world’s ways, have summoned, you know not why, but that you had been told, it may be by your wife’s mother, that it was absolutely necessary to engage a fashionable “ladies’ doctor” to “attend” your first born’s introduction into the world; in fact, you began to have grave doubts whether it would be possible for the child to arrive without the doctor; (you may have since ascertained, much to the chagrin of A. B. or C., M.D. and accoucheur, that such an event is not altogether beyond the circle of probabilities.) You have also hired a “month nurse,” recommended by the doctor as an experienced and skilful woman, in every way fitted for her office. The critical moment approaches; in a state of nervous excitement and anxiety you are advised to retire to the drawing-room, which, like a fool, you do. From time to time you are assured that all is going on as well as possible, and at length you are gratified by the intelligence that you are a father. You are, of course, utterly ignorant of all that has been done, what the nurse’s share of duty may have been, and what the doctor’s, although you have perchance a sort of vague and undefined suspicion that you were wrong in leaving all that you held dearest in the hands of a stranger, and that stranger a man, at a moment when she, the loved one, required your presence to comfort, console, and strengthen her in the hour of trial. Nor would your ignorance be enlightened, unless, as we did after years of credulity and miserable evasion, you catechise the doctor. Then will break upon you, in all their horrible reality, the indignities to which you have subjected her for whom you would have given life itself, the purest of the pure, the idol of your love, the very essence of your being, your heart of hearts! Then, indeed, will you repent, when it is all too late, your folly in trusting to the candour of Dr. A. B. or C., M.D., and the actual crime which you have committed in not acquainting yourself, while there was yet time to prevent it, with the “process” by which the man-midwife pretends to improve upon the all-powerful machinery of nature, and the infinite wisdom of nature’s God.
In the bitterness of your thoughts you may, perhaps, venture to question the doctor’s mode of proceeding, upon the supposition that the nurse, having been recommended by him as a skilful and competent person, should alone have actively[17] interfered, when you may be truculently told that he was not there “only to stand by and make reports;” or that “an accoucheur is not necessarily an old woman;” that “there are no feelings;”[18] that “the first thing he always does, when he comes to the bed-side, is to make an examination per vaginam!” with other observations equally harrowing to the sensibilities of a husband.
What shock so terrible to a man who, rejoicing in the delightful sentiment of a wife’s purity, discovers that all he held dearest and most sacred, all which he would shield from profanation with the last drop of his life’s blood, has been invaded by the presence, and violated by the actual contact of the man-midwife? The doctor may be a sober, discreet, oily man, of staid appearance, and a very pattern of propriety; or he may be a vulgar, low-bred person, in his leisure consorting with those of a similar bent; or