The Fascinating History of Anatomical Study

Our Access Officer Lauren writes about her recent trip to the Anatomy exhibition at the National Museum of Scotland.

Virtue's Household Physician Vol I (1927) Acc10/024

If you’re from Edinburgh, or if you’ve lived here for a while, you’ve probably heard of Burke and Hare at some point or other.

I’ve seen Burke’s skeleton a number of times at Surgeons Hall museum (as well as the pocket book made of his skin!) and I've peered numerous times at his death mask at the National Portrait Gallery. I used to work on a jewellery stall on the Royal Mile and would have to listen to a gazillion tour guides theatrically describe how the duo would suffocate their victims and sell their corpses to the anatomist Dr Robert Knox for dissection. I thought my knowledge regarding this gruesome slice of Edinburgh history was pretty solid when I walked into the exhibition Anatomy: A Matter of Death and Life. But I walked out of the exhibition postively inspired and brimming with new knowledge and better still- a thirst for more!

The first (surviving) Register of Dissections 1842 GD20/2/8

I was particularly pleased to see a lot of material from the University’s archive, things I had the pleasure of consulting and handling when working at Research Services. A highlight for me was the vellum scroll, a petition signed by over 200 Edinburgh University medical students, for more cadavers for anatomical study. The petition was created in 1828, the same year as the West Port murders. Anatomical study depended on the supply of corpses of criminals who had been executed for murder (in Edinburgh, foundlings or unclaimed bodies could also be used for dissection). Edinburgh had amassed a very high number of medical students due to the medical school’s success and the demand for corpses outweighed the city’s supply. The trade of human corpses was therefore a very lucrative business, a corpse costing £7- a lot of money back then! The long scroll petition is placed close to a mort safe, a heavy iron box placed over a coffin to deter would-be body snatchers. Both are roughly the same length. I loved seeing the objects from the archive displayed like this, in a way which helps contextualise their place in history.

History of Anatomy by Alexander Monro (Primus), 1747. The handwriting is thought not to be Monro’s GD1/2

Another item on display is one from the LHSA collection, the volume Collection of Engravings Designed to Facilitate the Study of Midwifery from 1796, showcasing exquisite obstetric anatomical drawing. I was particularly captivated by the anatomical drawings, which included Leonardo Da Vinci’s studies, an engraving of a dissection by Hogarth and an image I will never forget- an incredibly detailed depiction of the dissected corpse of an unknown pregnant woman. It’s quite something to feel taken aback by an illustration in this day and age, especially by one which was created in 1774.

The West Port murders and the ensuing scandal had a significant impact on the distrust felt by the public towards dissection and the medical community. In Helen MacDonald’s book Possessing the dead, the artful science of anatomy, she describes the aggression which erupted during a violent snow fight at the steps of the College between university students and members of the public in 1838. MacDonald suggests the snow fight incident is proof of the tensions which lingered as a result of the anatomy school's role in the murders.

The Anatomy Act of 1832 would further this distrust, especially among the poor. Whereas before one had to be a murderer in order to be legally dissected, it was now possible for medical schools to buy unclaimed corpses from public institutions, namely prisons, hospitals, asylums and workhouses. The poor didn’t have access to the benefits of medical training and teaching, and dissection was still seen as a violation of the body, and post 1832, as a form of punishment for being poor.

The Anatomy Act 1832

“They tell us it was necessary for science. Science? Why, who is science for? Not for poor people. Then if it is necessary for science, let them have the bodies of the rich, for whose benefit science is cultivated”

- William Cobbett, a critic of the Anatomy Act.

Rebecca Burrows writes in The Anatomy Act of 1832: The Story of Bodysnatching, Dissections, and the Rise of Anatomy:

“Out of 57,000 bodies dissected within the first hundred years of the Act’s implementation, less than half a percent came from anywhere other than institutions which housed the poor.”

The Act did create a steady supply of corpses, but did little to curb the public’s general revulsion towards the practice. Although the Act allowed for people to donate their bodies, by 1842 only 6 people had done so. I was particularly moved when I read that the introduction of the NHS in 1948, “coincided to an increase of body donation, partly because people saw it as giving back to a system which now cared for them for life."

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By the 70s, institutions no longer relied on unclaimed corpses for anatomical study.

This wonderful exhibition inspired me to run a week-long social media campaign examining anatomy-related material from the LHSA collection. I absolutely loved finding material to share on our social media platforms and I'm eager to run another themed campaign at some point again- watch this space!