The phrase ‘hidden
from history’ is often very loosely invoked, so it is perhaps testimony to the omertà of the British medical profession that the name and activities of Dr
Isaac Baker Brown were concealed from view for nearly a century after his death
in 1873. One might have anticipated that his views on the deleterious effects of
female masturbation and his proposed remedy of clitoridectomy would have
featured in the writings of late nineteenth and early twentieth- century sexologists,
but even Iwan Bloch, that tireless and uncritical snapper-up of sexual curiosa,
fails to mention the episode. Oddly, Havelock Ellis cited the views of one of
Brown’s opponents in his account of Auto-erotism in Studies in the Psychology
of Sex (1897) without mentioning the context in which the opinion that
female masturbation did not cause insanity was expressed.
The topic
was first rediscovered by a Professor of Gynaecology, J. B. Fleming, after
encountering a passage in the works of Lawson Tait ‘so full of mystery that it
stimulated an investigation to be made into the circumstances which surrounded
the fall of Baker Brown’. The results of his investigation were published as ‘Clitoridectomy—The
disastrous downfall of Isaac Baker Brown, F.R.C.S. (1867).’ Journal of
Obstetrics and Gynaecology of the British Empire 67 (1960): 1017–34.
It took some time for these findings to percolate more
generally into knowledge of the period – although Alex Comfort had touched on
the matter in The Anxiety Makers: Some Curious Preoccupations of the Medical
Profession (1967), Ronald Pearsall, in The Worm in the Bud: The World
of Victorian Sexuality (1969) made a reference to ‘a doctor named Baker
Brown [who] performed a mysterious operation on her, unknown to her husband’ (p.156).
It is not quite clear where Pearsall acquired that information, since the case was
very extensively reported and the nature of the operation revealed, along with
Baker Brown’s negligence over obtaining her husband’s consent.
The Hancock-Peaty case of early 1867, in fact, if perhaps
rather beyond what the sensation novel of the period could contain and still be
acceptable to the circulating libraries, strikes one as possibly the basis for
a rather noir neo-Victorian novel, or possibly TV drama.
It was not, technically, a divorce case. Mr Peaty wanted to
stay married to his wife, the former Miss Hancock, but her relatives were
claiming that her mental condition meant that she had been incompetent to consent
to matrimony. The fact that she had, subsequent to the marriage, inherited
£3000, may have had some bearing on this. Previously, one suspects, the family
had been happy for their cousin, who had been wishing to marry her for some
while, to take on the responsibility, and after all, medical men had expressed
the opinion that marriage might be beneficial for her ‘hysteria’ – a term which
hardly encompasses the extreme eccentricity manifested by the lady in question.
At some point during the marriage, the wife’s sisters took
her to Baker Brown, who performed what Peaty’s counsel referred to as a ‘gross
and barbarous operation’, without seeking Mr Peaty’s consent. He subsequently
took her to St Luke’s
Hospital, in order to preserve her from further surgical interventions. Dr
Ellis, of that establishment, considered that ‘the surgical operation known as
clitoridectomy would be a most improper one in her case’, while conceding that
it was currently a subject of debate and controversy within the profession. The
subject was also discussed by other medical witnesses.
The extent to which this controversial, ‘barbaric’ procedure
thus obtained newspaper coverage through reportage of courtroom testimony contrasts
remarkably with the very discreet way in which the expulsion of Baker Brown
from the Obstetrical Society was dealt with by the mainstream press. While the
meeting was covered in all its heated detail in professional journals, only
brief paragraphs alluded to the event in newspapers intended for the general
public. The case is hardly mentioned at all in the historiography generated around
Baker Brown from the late twentieth century onwards
A question which arises is whether – allied to the controversy
over Baker Brown’s book On the Curability of Certain Forms of Insanity,
Epilepsy, Catalepsy, and Hysteria in Females (1866), the argument with the
Lunacy Commission conducted in the pages of The Times over his claiming
to treat lunatics in an institution not licensed by the Commissioners for that
purpose – appearing by repute in a high-profile case in connection with ‘barbarous
operations’ repudiated by the medical witnesses, added further weight to the
scales leading to his expulsion from the Obstetrical Society.
Lawson Tait’s obituary of Baker Brown, quoted in extenso in
the Fleming article, hinted at developing mental problems. A curious report in Lloyd’s
Weekly Newspaper, 15 December 1867, would suggest a certain erraticness of
behaviour manifesting. In the course of a case in which Baker Brown was suing a
music-hall singer for unpaid charges for professional attendance, the defendant
claimed that the surgeon had asked him to make introductions to ‘young ladies’
connected with the music-hall.