The Glass Uterus: A Social History of an Object

In 1778, four boxes of materials for the midwifery course in the Généralité of Soissons transferred from the recently deceased physician Nachet to the next instructor, Deberge, along with the title of professor of midwifery. These boxes included one real pelvis with ligaments, a sacrum, two hipbones, two femurs, two mannequins [fantômes], two infants for use with the mannequins, clothes for one infant, two placentas, and 12 images displaying both the female reproductive organs and the different positions of infants in the uterus.[1] The subdélégué of Laon, as the government’s representative, oversaw the inventory of these valuable objects and their transfer to Deberge, ensuring none were damaged or lost in the transfer.[2] Deberge quickly added to this collection a widow’s pelvis in order to “make the demonstrations more sensible.”[3] Within weeks of entering his new position, Deberge had printed the posters advertising the course, the certificates of completion for students, and the letters to be circulated to local notables announcing the course.[4] These objects and papers were the paraphernalia of the position and signified his new role.

The sheer number and diversity of inherited materials speaks to the centrality of objects to the mission of educating midwives in eighteenth-century France. During the 1770s, these provincial midwifery courses emerged all over the country. The wide-ranging creation of training courses came about due, in part, to national policies supporting such programs, but local training practices diverged considerably. Instructors disagreed, for example, on the ideal pedagogical materials. Deberge believed the addition of some new objects for the class would “establish a degree of perfection” greater than that found under previous instructors. He, particularly, complained that the paintings used by a previous instructor were poorly executed and showed “false” infant presentations. The intendant of Soissons, Louis Lepeletier de Mortefontaine, approved a hefty budget of 500 livres for the purchase of new items for the class.[5] Additionally Deberge requested permission to have Pierre Delaunay-Deslandes, the director of manufacturing from the nearby factory town of St. Gobain, create three glass uteri for the class: one of a non-pregnant size, one of 3-4 months pregnancy, and one at the end of pregnancy.[6]

 Objects like these glass uteri tell a tale of the importance of personal networks in shaping the specific form of midwifery courses in the généralité of Soissons. While the crown encouraged and supported such programs, very localized political structures and cultural practices around midwives and reproduction determined the eventual shape that the program would adopt. The history of three objects—the glass uteri of Deberge—reveals a local infrastructure around pedagogical objects in support of these midwifery courses and reflects a social world of personal networks and privilege connecting these provincial courses to Versailles’ Hall of Mirrors.

Educating Midwives in the Généralité of Soissons

When the physician Nachet died from a lifelong illness at 30 years old on March 10, 1778[7] a search for the next instructor of midwifery for the généralité of Soissons immediately commenced. Six candidates sought the position. Each offered their own relevant skill set and recommendations from prominent people. The choice of next instructor drew the opinions of accoucheurs (man-midwives) from Paris—such as Alphonse Leroy and Poissonnier—and some of the most prominent members of the region; the Count of Hédouville, the Abbot de Moncel, the Count de Coigny, and many local administrators and priests. It was far from a foregone conclusion who would be the next professor of midwifery.

The successful candidate, Deberge, was not the intendant’s first choice. This had been Nachet’s father, a surgeon in Laon, who declined the position for personal reasons. Deberge himself had initially applied for the position of epidemics doctor. “I doubt that we [would] find in this region a man more enlightened and with more zeal than S. Deberge,” praised the commissionaire of war, Lunyt de Sainte-Foix the day after Nachet’s death.[8] Deberge worked as a town physician and at the military hospital in La Fère (north of Soissons). An easy horseback ride away, the town of St. Gobain, less than nine kilometers south, boasted a large glass factory with over a thousand employees. Pierre Delaunay-Deslandes, the director of the factory, also submitted a recommendation for the epidemics position on Deberge’s behalf. Both Lunyt and Deslandes emphasized Deberge’s experience with epidemics and instating an inoculation program, noting nothing about midwifery.[9] Lunyt presented Deberge as the ideal public servant, fashioning the model candidate for the intendant Lepeletier:

His talents, Monsieur, known in this region, his assistance with the epidemics we had here without any remuneration, only by his zeal and his humanity, the same feelings and the same conduct for the service of the king.[10]

Lunyt orchestrated this transformation of Deberge into an ideal public servant, committed equally to king and his subjects, with the use of the words “zeal,” “humanity,” “service,” and the self-sacrifice demonstrated in the account of Deberge’s role in the epidemics. These traits made Deberge a model candidate for midwifery instructor as well. Moralistic medical writers and government administrators framed midwifery courses within ideals of subjugating personal desires for the greater good of country and humanity and the ideal instructor was expected to embody these qualities.

Almost as an afterthought, Lunyt finally addressed the question of midwifery in the postscript of a subsequent letter: “I will add, Monsieur, that M. de Berge [sic] has knowledge and a particular study of midwifery,…he presides over all our women in this great work.”[11] With its 1,200 workers and their families, the glass factory of St. Gobain comprised its own town. Deberge, as a physician and accoucheur, performed inoculations, births, and, probably, many other general health care practices for the factory families. Due to his experience as a medical practitioner and the commendations from Lunyt and Deslandes, Lepeletier, the intendant, expressed to Deberge his “greatest confidence…in your talents, experience, wisdom, and morals…” and bestowed on him the title of professor of midwifery.[12]

The St. Gobain Glass Factory

From 1758 to 1790 Deslandes oversaw the glass factory in St. Gobain, originally built in 1692.Under the name of Manufacture Royale des Glaces, this company had a monopoly on glass making in France until the Revolution and made the mirrors that still line the Gallery of Mirrors in Versailles. Deslandes transformed practices of glass production from glass blowing to glass casting, restructured the factory layout, and imposed new work practices promoting order and discipline on the factory floor. This meant pushing his workers in a never-ending pursuit of efficiency.

I changed the orders. We no longer paid attention to holidays or Sundays. When the glass was melted, we cast it, and when it was cast, we began to melt again. There was not a moment lost… I had my heart and my conscience.[13]

Further pursuing maximum productivity, Deslandes constructed two new manufacturing halls in the 1780s ensuring that three of the five total halls could be operating at all times. Within these halls he implemented new manufacturing techniques such as further developing the use of the casting table, thereby enabling the production of larger sheets of glass. He also initiated a new purification method for the energy-reducing ingredient soda ash.[14]

Deslandes’ reforms reordered the social world in support of these new labor practices. Over 400 workers lived on factory grounds with their families. A bread oven and drinking establishment provided wine, beer, and cider. Chickens and livestock foraged in the ditches, likely in unsanitary conditions. Smuggling of salt and tobacco frequently resulted in violent reprisal from factory officials. Deslandes, however, sought to establish order here too. Faced with persistent theft of metal, tools, soda lye ashes, and, predominantly, firewood, Deslandes built worker’s compounds next to the factory, separating living and manufacturing areas and facilitating closer control and monitoring of workers.[15] Deslandes earned letters of nobility in 1772 for revolutionizing French glass making.[16]

Deslandes’ factory was central to the economic vitality of the region of Soissons and his factory produced the windows and glass objects that adorned nobles’ homes around France, important signifiers of status. Without the support of such a prominent man, Deberge may have failed to obtain the highly sought position of professor of midwifery. Deslandes’ involvement in the midwifery courses, moreover, supported his project of efficiency and productivity by promoting a growing, healthy workforce at no additional cost to himself.

Glass Uteri

 The glass uteri ordered by Deberge continued a tradition of using glass uteri in midwifery pedagogy. In Bologna, Giovanni Antonio Galli built a macchina ostetrico with a wooden pelvis and glass uterus so that students could visualize the movements of the infant in-utero. William Smellie and Richard Manningham both utilized glass uteri in their London classes. A glass uterus could be filled with liquids to be released at a particular moment in the demonstration and it facilitated the penetration of the student’s gaze into the inner workings of the uterus during childbirth.[17] The Deberge uteri, however, seem to be of a different type. He requested three: one non-pregnant, one of 3-4 months, and one representing the uterus at the end of pregnancy. These uteri did not depict the process of childbirth but, presumably, illustrated the dramatic growth of the uterus during pregnancy. It is unknown if there was a fetus inside or if the uterine models represented any other reproductive structures.

While the specifics about these uteri and their production remains shrouded in mystery, it is safe to assume from their shape that they were blown rather than made on a casting table (which produced flat sheets of glass). The St. Gobain factory likely constructed the glass uteri using Venetian glass blowing techniques. These techniques came to France during the late seventeenth century in a drama involving Venetian glass blowers deserting to France, facilitated by Colbert, and resulting in retribution by poisoning. This method combined silica (sand), soda ash to reduce the temperature necessary to melt the silica, and lime to stabilize the mixture. Then furnaces melted all these ingredients together. Other ingredients could be added for color or clarity after the initial mix. A gob of the molten glass was then picked up with the blowpipe and rolled on a cast-iron plate. After a reheating in the furnace, the glass blower shaped the glass by blowing it into a mold. The resulting glass uteri for Deberge could not have been any bigger than 40 inches (a little over one meter) tall, as this is the limit of human lung capacity for glass blowing.

These techniques of glass making were closely guarded secrets and the crown maintained a monopoly on this knowledge through letters patent. This process of royal privileges kept these skills within the Royal Glass Works. Deberge’s geographic proximity to the St. Gobain factory and his personal connection to Deslandes provided him access to this restricted knowledge and the artisans capable of employing these techniques. In fact, despite the existence of glass uteri elsewhere in Europe, no such object has been found in any other French midwifery course.

Conclusion

Desberge relied upon and fostered regional infrastructure for the production of objects for his class. Patronage relationships, such as the one between Deslandes and Deberge, strengthened with the exchange of goods and services, as evidenced here. Deberge had probably worked for many years as physician to the families working in Deslandes’ factory, maybe even for the Deslandes family itself. When the opportunity arose, Deslandes provided Deberge with the necessary endorsement for his desired position and Deberge later reciprocated through the patronage of Deslandes’ professional endeavors. These types of personal connections shaped the form of local midwifery courses by informing such aspects as instructors and objects used. Social histories, thus, can help explain the diversity of forms of midwifery training in the 1770s and 80s in France.

 Narratives dedicated to the decline of the female midwife dominate the history of midwifery in eighteenth-century Europe. Yet, in France, no attempt to eliminate the practice of midwifery existed. Instead, most medical men and government officials sought to regulate and control the practice as evidenced by the proliferation of midwifery courses in the later part of the century. Most man-midwives, such as Deberge and the instructors before him, understood the potential profits—economic and professional—involved in the regulation of midwives. The title of Professor of Midwifery made Deberge a government pensioner, with all the significant benefits thereof. The position also enabled him to grow and strengthen his personal network, crucial in a society that functioned through privilege and patronage. These networks of individuals, however, are often difficult to uncover and navigate for the historian. Object-centered histories fill gaps within traditional social histories while creating alternative histories that recognize the active role of objects in shaping the world. 

Featured image: Midwifery student examination for the course of Madame Coutanceau in Bordeaux. (about 1820) Notice the pelvis and baby on the right side table to be used for maneuvers. (Bibliothèque de Val-de-Grâce L1526)

Bibliography

Primary Sources

Deberge, Inventory of Four Boxes of Supplies for Midwifery Cours: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘630’, Laon.

———, June 2, 1778, Letter from Deberge to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘630’, Laon.

———, August 1, 1778, Letter from Deberge to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘631’, Laon.

Deslandes, March 14, 1778, Letter from Deslandes to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘630’, Laon.

L’Eleu, March 10, (1778), Letter from Subdelegate L’eleu to Intendant Lepeletier Upon Nachet’s Death: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘630’, Laon.

L’Eleu, M., June ??,1778, Letter from Eleu to the Intendant Lepeletier: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘630’, Laon.

Lepeletier, May 22, 1778, Letter from Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons, to Deberge: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘630’, Laon.

Lepeletier, Secretary of, August 14, 1778, Letter to Deberge from the Secretary of the Intendant of Soissons: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘631’, Laon.

Sainte-Foix, Lunyt de, March 11, 1778, Letter from Lunyt, Commissaire Des Guerres, to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘630’, Laon.

———, April 15, 1778, Letter from Lunyt, Commissaire Des Guerres, to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons: AD Aisne, ‘C’, ‘630’, Laon.

Secondary Sources

Carême, Claude. “La Lutte Contre La Mort Au Xviiie Siècle: L’instruction Des Sages-Femmes Dans La Généralité De Soissons.” In Mémoires- Fédérationdes Sociétés D’histoire Et D’archéologie De L’aisne. Laon: Fédérationdes sociétés d’histoire et d’archéologie de l’Aisne, 2004.

Dacome, Lucia. “Women, Wax, and Anatomy in the ‘Century of Things’.” Renaissance Studies 21, no. 4 (2007): 522-50.

“The Faces of Saint-Gobain.” http://www.saint-gobain350years.com/ – !/en/the-faces-of-saint-gobain/pierre-delaunay-deslandes

Hamon, Maurice. Saint-Gobain 1665-1990. Editions Jean-Claude Lattès, 1988.

“History of the Group Saint-Gobain.” http://www.saint-gobain350years.com/ – !/en/key-dates-of-our-history.

Lieske, Pam. “‘Made in the Imitation of Real Women and Children’: Obstetrical Machines in Eighteenth-Century Britain.” In The Female Body in Medicine and Literature, edited by Andrew Mangham and Greta Depledge. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2011.

Owen, Harry. Simulation in Healthcare Education. Cham: Springer, 2016.


[1] Inventory of Four Boxes of Supplies for Midwifery Cours, Deberge: AD Aisne, C, 630, Laon.

[2] Letter from Eleu to the Intendant Lepeletier, June ??,1778, M. L’Eleu: ibid.

[3] Letter from Deberge to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons, June 2, 1778, Deberge: ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Letter to Deberge from the Secretary of the Intendant of Soissons, August 14, 1778, Secretary of Lepeletier: ibid.631,

[6] Letter from Deberge to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons, August 1, 1778, Deberge: ibid.

[7] Letter from Subdelegate L’eleu to Intendant Lepeletier Upon Nachet’s Death, March 10, (1778), L’Eleu: ibid.630, ; Claude Carême, “La Lutte Contre La Mort Au Xviiie Siècle: L’instruction Des Sages-Femmes Dans La Généralité De Soissons,” in Mémoires- Fédérationdes Sociétés D’histoire Et D’archéologie De L’aisne (Laon: Fédérationdes sociétés d’histoire et d’archéologie de l’Aisne, 2004).

[8] Letter from Lunyt, Commissaire Des Guerres, to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons, March 11, 1778, Lunyt de Sainte-Foix: AD Aisne, C, 630, Laon.

[9] see also Letter from Deslandes to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons, March 14, 1778, Deslandes: ibid.

[10] Letter from Lunyt, Commissaire Des Guerres, to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons, March 11, 1778, Lunyt de Sainte-Foix: ibid.

[11] Letter from Lunyt, Commissaire Des Guerres, to Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons, April 15, 1778, AD Aisne, C, 630, Laon.

[12] Letter from Lepeletier, Intendant of Soissons, to Deberge, May 22, 1778, Lepeletier: ibid.

[13] “The Faces of Saint-Gobain,” http://www.saint-gobain350years.com/#!/en/the-faces-of-saint-gobain/pierre-delaunay-deslandes.

[14] Maurice Hamon, Saint-Gobain 1665-1990 (Editions Jean-Claude Lattès, 1988); “The Faces of Saint-Gobain”; “History of the Group Saint-Gobain,”  http://www.saint-gobain350years.com/#!/en/key-dates-of-our-history.

[15] Saint-Gobain 1665-1990.

[16] “The Faces of Saint-Gobain”; “History of the Group Saint-Gobain”; ibid.

[17] Lucia Dacome, “Women, Wax, and Anatomy in the ‘Century of Things’,” Renaissance Studies 21, no. 4 (2007); Pam Lieske, “‘Made in the Imitation of Real Women and Children’: Obstetrical Machines in Eighteenth-Century Britain,” in The Female Body in Medicine and Literature, ed. Andrew Mangham and Greta Depledge (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2011); Harry Owen, Simulation in Healthcare Education (Cham: Springer, 2016).


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