Case Study: Mary Toft
In September 1726, John Howard , a surgeon from Guildford, witnessed Mary Toft deliver nine rabbits. By October, Toft was being visited by members of the public and medical professionals alike as a medical curiosity. Her case was discussed and dissected in newspapers , printed ballads and satirical sketches, and Toft âs predicament was considered by many to be an example of the maternal imaginationâher rabbit births the result of eating and craving rabbit meat while pregnant (Lieske 2007: xiii). In November, following three months of similar sporadic âbirthsâ and increasing public interest, Nathanael St. AndrĂ© , surgeon and anatomist to the Prince of Wales, and Cyriacus Ahlers , surgeon to George Iâs German household, visited Toft in Guildford, where she was again observed delivering parts of a rabbit (Todd 1995: 26â27). Suspicious of fraud, Ahlers â reports led fashionable physician Richard Manningham to examine Toft , delivering an object subsequently identified as a hog bladder. Toft was finally moved to London and observed by the trio of surgeons and physicians, along with new specialist âmen-midwivesâ, such as James Douglas , while being pressured to admit fraudulent delivery. Eventually, following evidence that Toft âs husband and a porter were supplying her with dead rabbits (and Manninghamâs threat to perform a forced caesarean section), Toft finally confessed to the fraud.
Douglas â published response, An Advertisement Occasionâd by Some Passages in Sir R. Manninghamâs Diary , Latedly Publishâd, by J. Douglas , M.D., 1 presented a copy-edit of Manninghamâs publication, querying the accuracy of certain sections and reiterating his own claims to have never been convinced by Toft , as well as detailing her symptoms and habits. Yet while the content of these two texts might indicate an intended audience of medical professionals , Toft âs melodramatically entitled Much ado about Nothing: Or, The Rabbit-Womanâs C onfession, and popular ballads such as The D iscovery : or, The Squire turnâd Ferret. An Excellent New B allad demonstrate how the commentaries were titled with a view to public consumption as much as (if not more than) medical professionals . Mary Fissellâs work on the politics of reproduction in early modern England draws connections between the availability of monstrous birth narratives in cheap printed pamphlets and a cultural shift in the way the womb was viewed across society, both medical and lay. In a post-Reformation society, women were no longer encouraged to identify with the Virgin Mary during pregnancy , and the womb , previously a site of miraculous life-giving, was increasingly viewed as âthe source of many womenâs maladiesâ. Cheap print allowed for the proliferation of sensational stories, and womenâs bodies, pregnancy and motherhood were popular choices (Fissell 2006: 53).
The Toft affair certainly highlights developments in print technology and the commercial possibilities it afforded eighteenth-century printers and publishers; more importantly, however, it also demonstrates how the eighteenth-century medical marketplace was able to exploit the promotional potential of print. The physicians involved in the case were keen to document their work and observations, and some made their way quickly into print. Both The Wonder of Wonders,2 which contains an excerpt of correspondence by surgeon John Howard , and A Short Narrative,3 written by Nathaniel St AndrĂ© , were published shortly before Toft âs confession (Lieske 2007: 21). In addition to providing details of the surgeonsâ actions in the case, both texts attempt to quell doubts over the authenticity of the births and âcounter an anticipated assault on [the physiciansâ] public and professional imageâ (Lieske 2007: xii).
That so many well-respected medical professionals were fooled or even implicated in the fraud triggered further waves of published material relating to the affair. In the months following Toft âs confession, the physicians, surgeons and midwives involved in the case published a number of pamphlets and accounts defending their own professional reputations (and often laying blame on other parties). These publications were undeniably sensational in nature, as well as deeply intertextualârequiring and expecting from their readers a substantial knowledge of the case and the associated medical details. Manninghamâs published diary extracts, for example, present the case in explicit medical detail, while also cementing his claims to have never been convinced by the births.4
Mary Toft âs case engaged with a range of eighteenth-century concerns by and about the medical profession: the role of sensationalism in professional practice; public questions about medical authority and verisimilitude; the accountability of medical men to the public (of all classes). As Pamela Lieske states, however, the Toft case âdid not occur in a cultural vacuum, but [is] part of a larger historical tradition of strange and monstrous births, whose meaning contemporary scholars are still attempting to decipherâ (Lieske 2007: viii). Situating the Toft affair within a history of âmonstrous birthsâ which stretches back to the medieval and classical periods, Lieske argues that such cases should not be dismissed as mere fantasy, but that we should consider how the medical profession made âconcerted efforts [. . .] to make sense of what they observed and experiencedâ (Lieske 2007: viii). Mary Toft may have been at the centre of the affair, but her female body quickly became a physical and rhetorical battleground between the male medical professionals defending their reputations and livelihoods.
The Mary Toft case has long been noted as a bizarre but intriguing example of late eighteenth-century medical and gynaecological practices5 and, from a book history perspective, of the role of the popular press during this time. This chapter, however, aims to draw attention specifically to the paratextual features of the various publications. Paratext constitutes the linguistic and visual features which are contained within and surround the main text(s); meaning and information are communicated by and encoded in these features.6 More specifically, the various Toft publications are examples of the âmedical paratextâ and highlight the breadth and complexity of material which this term may encompass. In addition to demonstrating wider concerns and preoccupations within the eighteenth-century medical profession, the Toft affair texts and their paratexts also reflect contemporary public opinion about physicians and their trade. A focused investigation of the paratext not only highlights the complexities of the case itself, it provides insight into the structures and knowledge base of the medical profession in the late eighteenth century . Furthermore, the various elements of paratextual detail and the distinctive inter(para)textuality expose the tensions between public and professional, medical and lay, and privacy and sensationalism.
Paratext is always a site of mediation between the reader, printer/publisher, editor, and author; it is often also a site of tension.7 This tension is clearly evidenced in the Toft publications, as medical professionals used the printed text and its paratextual framing devices to promote their expertise, defend their reputations and demonstrate accountability to the reading public. Furthermore, many of the texts were produced in direct response to each other, and to developmentsâallegations and revelationsâover the course of the affair. As such, the texts, and specifically the paratexts, are dialogic. Titles such as An Advertisement Occasionâd by Some Passages in Sir R. Manninghamâs Diary , Latedly Publishâd, by J. Douglas , M.D., a tract in which Douglas makes âremarksâ upon Manninghamâs account, are explicit in their inter(para)textuality. Acknowledging the paratext, then, not only demonstrates how medical professionals responded to the case, but how they engaged with each other, and to the wider reading public.
The voices of the male physicians take centre stage across the publications but the voice of
Mary Toft is notable in its absence; when we do âhearâ her voice, it is heavily mediated. The following text comprises the opening pages of Toft
âs printed confession,
Much ado About Nothing, which features an explanatory preface
from the publisher:
The Publisher to the Reader
The poor woman of Godalming being now the topic of every conversation, and it being put to the general vote, whether rabbits shall be admitted to our tables, ay or no; it has been thought fit to trace the whole affair from its first original; and to hear what the poor woman has to say for herself, at a time when all mouths are open against her: in order to which, the publisher hereof has taken indefatigable pains to bring the whole mystery to light, by purging the woman in a proper manner, and at proper times, without the low artifice of wheedling, or the high hand of threatening; but by touching her in the tenderest part, vis. her conscience ; and extracting the very quintessence of the whole affect in such a manner, and method, as will set all mankind to rights in their various mistaken notions of this unhappy woman.
It is therefore to be hoped, they will suspend their judgements, till they have heard what she has to say for...