Sideshow 10: Monster Medicine

It appeared to have been born with the head of an animal, a cat in fact, and so the mother's private tragedy quickly morphed into a public accusation of beast reality and a trial that ended in a guilty verdict. She had brought a monster into this world, after all, and she would suffer the consequences for it. As the story goes, the woman was tied to allow matter in

Leiden's town square and burned alive. Today, a retrospective diagnosis tells us that the baby likely had an encephali, a rare condition which often results in a missing brain and a malformed skull. But Thomas Bartolin, the fellow who originally documented the story in six didn't know this. Thomas was an anatomist, but how could he a man with more knowledge of a human body than most have agreed with the judge's verdict. Wasn't he supposed to know better? The

answer was not. Then around the same time, a book series was published called and I've warned you this is a mouthful here The Midwives Book or the Whole Art of Midwiffery discovered, directing childbearing women how to behave themselves in their conception, breeding, bearing, and nursing of children. In six books. The message was clear, a mother was solely

responsible for anything that happened in her him. As people across space and time have grappled with our place in the world, the roles of sex and reproduction have played a large part. Pregnancy and birth have been things long shrouded in myth and mystery, and for a long time we've been getting a lot of what we know about it wrong. And where there's mystery, people have a natural inclination to fill in the gaps, to make order out of chaos, especially when this chaos is made of our

own flesh and blood. I'm Aaron Manky, and welcome to the side show. This new discovery had an ominous air to it. The pair of conea formed tablets spoke of calamity, thought to have been carved in Mesopotamia around seven BC. They claimed to hold the key to predicting the future. When archaeologists translated the tablets two columns, they discovered something surprising,

though it was about childbirth. The left side talked about congenital defects, while the right side drew upon corresponding prophecies related to those features. A missing right hand, for example, predicted an earthquake. An infant without a tongue was set to foretell the ruin of the home. Missing ears meant that the country might soon be pitched into mourning, and a royal child with a face of a lion was said to signify that the king would have no rival.

For millennia, human abnormalities have been a mystery drawings from our primitive ancestors have documented these malformations since the dawn of time. Across history, these births have meant different things in different places, and were frequently interpreted through the lens of superstition. Hinduism is home to multilimbed gods and goddesses, while the ancient Greeks spoke of hybrid offspring between humans

and gods. In the sixth century, is A Door of Seville tried to articulate reasons for these abnormalities, which he believed were supernatural in origin. By the Dark Ages and with the rise of Christianity, major belief systems were shifting. The human and the divine were entangled. Many blamed outbreaks like the Black Death on a wrathful god. Demons too became scapegoats. The devil was believed to take the form of animals and could impregnate women with monstrous offspring at will.

And we need to remember that before doctrine and anatomy were more than experimental trades, and before huge technological leaps helped us unlock the body secrets, these fields were greatly influenced by folklore and myth. Over time, though science became codified into a discipline. Scientific study became very serious business for a very serious professional class, and as it did, the field of teratology took shape. It's an old Greek term, with terra meaning a sign sent by the gods or

a monster. In simple terms, teratology was the scientific study of marvels and abnormalities. Specifically those related to the human body. It would only make sense then, that this new mix of new science and old superstition would make for a potent cultural cocktail. People were hungry for knowledge, those born with physical defects were seen as commodities for studying and collecting. Gerardist Rolick and his son Wilhelm were two such collectors

in the nineteenth century. They were pioneers in the field of vertebrate teratology. They had animal specimens and human fetuses of all kinds, to the tune of thousands jars of conjoined twins, articulated and diseased skeletons, you name it, they had it. After William's death, that collection was turned into a permanent exhibit, and it still exists today. Housed at the Diversity of Amsterdam. The collection now contains over twenty artifacts.

It's most recent items added in nineteen fifty. The ethics of this feels a bit fuzzy, I know, and the collections very existence invites a difficult question. How do we decide if a body is to be put to rest or put on display? But rest assured not every specimen at the crossroads of science and superstition was destined for a glass jar or a curio cabinet. In fact, there were far less fatal ways of viewing a number of curiosities, and they were just as interesting. The neighbors had begun

to talk. The community of Rossolini, on the island of Sicily was by all definitions a pretty medieval village. The streets were tightly gritted and lined with sun faded stone buildings at small church squares. It was the sort of quaint Italian town that would look great on a postcard. It was early summer in the eighteen eighties when Giovanna went into labor. Different accounts say different things that this was her first birth or her sixth. Regardless, we know

this to be true. She gave birth in her to room home on Via Granadi Noavi, and undoubtedly had hopes for her baby. She and her husband were farmers, and in an agricultural community such as Rossellini, there was always more work to be done. In addition to an extra set of hands, Giovanna and her husband got an extra leg. Their child, Francesco Lentini, came into the world healthy, strong,

and having half absorbed his twin in utero. Their two bodies had fused as one, and because of that, Little Francesco was born with three legs, four ft and sixteen toes. His family read his arrival as a curse. Reports say that his father called his appearance and act of God. Their neighbors didn't quite know what to think. They simply spoke of him as the marvel, and naturally the community tried to figure out where to lay the blame. Some said that his mother had visited a carpenter where she

had laid eyes on a three legged stool. That was enough, they said, to irrevocably harm the child, a folk belief known as maternal impression. Around the same time Frank was born, Scottish physician J. W. Ballantine was busy working on debunking the idea that maternal impression was a cause for birth defects. Yet centuries of superstition weren't going to fade overnight. Frank would grow up in Roussellini with a nickname the Little Monster. He would tie his extra limb back and out of

the way, but he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. It made it hard for him to play games with the other children, and he hated it. He could run and swim and bike well enough, but he still felt different. In fact, Frank's extra leg didn't stop him from doing much at all, but he still felt the weight of its presence, and his father did everything within his power

to find a solution for his appearance. He had heard a rumor of a mysterious doctor in the Republic of Malta, a physician who worked at an institute for children with physical ailments, so they went to find him. But their consultation wouldn't be what they hoped for. The doctors determined that an operation to remove the third leg would prove far too risky. It was fused to frank spine, after all, and cutting it off could potentially result in paralysis. They

just didn't want to risk it. But what young Frank saw at this institution was a site that would stay with him forever. The children there appeared happy. But how could this be? He thought. He looked at himself, and then he looked back at them. They two were living with bodies that the rest of the world looked upon with pity and disgust, and yet they were full of joy. What did they know that he didn't? He would later write the visit to the instant tutition was the best

thing that ever happened to me. From that time to this I've never complained. I think life is beautiful and I enjoy living it. Not long after returning home from that trip, Frank came into contact with Vincenzo Megano, a traveling showman. He was smitten with Frank's figure and quickly hatched a plan with Frank's parents that would bring them all to America, to Bridgeport, Connecticut, in fact, to the home of P. T. Barnum. They knew an opportunity when

they saw one. Soon the East Coast papers were peppered with news of Frank's arrival. The headlines transformed him into the greatest medical wonder of all time and the great Lentini. People were drawn in by the promotional posters, but stayed for his charm. He was ultimately accessible to his audience, eliciting their questions and replying with candor. He even sold

his story in a small souvenir chap book. By nineteen o seven, he was married to a woman named Teresa Murray of Massachusetts, said to be a beautiful actress from a well to do family. Together they had four children and by all accounts, it was a happy time. A year after their marriage, Frank and his new wife returned to Rossellini. Spirits were high for the carnival season, and the whole town turned out for the prodigal son's return.

But this time his old neighbors, the ones who had once called him the little monster, demonstrated a change of heart. They showed their support for him by wearing their own three legged trousers. If you're going to concoct a plan on how to make people better, I suppose Southern Illinois is as good as any place to do it. Or so the proprietors of the nineteen twenty Perry County Fair thought when they announced that they would be hosting a Better Baby contest. The babies would be judged based on

their looks and their smarts. Why plan for better stock, they asked, and let the human race deteriorate. This contest was part of a larger trend that aimed to educate people on how to raise healthier children. But we can look back in hindsight and see more sinister shades. You see, only certain kinds of babies were allowed to enter. If you were African American or Native American or an immigrant, well, you were automatically disqualified. This question of how to make

better babies was on everyone's mind too. America was seeing a huge influx of immigrants, Social morays were being upended, and ways of life were changing. Social order some felt needed maintenance. The theory of eugenics was a natural outgrowth of teratology. As opposed to how to keep from birthing monsters, it asked how to optimize genetics with the plans of birthing perfect babies. The idea took hold with some of the most prominent thinkers of the day, Aiming to eradicate

what they called bad genes. They talked a lot about s elect of breeding. The idea, unfortunately, was also a big hit. This resulted in forced sterilizations, laws about who people could marry, pedigree registration and tracking, and, in the case of Nazi Europe, inspired the final solution. And what didn't you know it? But none other than the Great Lentini also received top billing at that same Perry County fair. He was a newly minted U S citizen and proudly assimilated.

One only has to wonder what he thought about all of this. You see Eugenicists had a habit of using sideshow performers bodies as proof of their subpar genes, often lobbying for their sterilization. It's almost certain that someone with Frank's condition may have been killed at birth. Only centuries after. Even still, Frank was busy touring and building his career. He reworked his chat book and continued to sell it, always adding to it and refining the story of his life.

In it, Frank answered the anticipated questions about his own genes. No had no ancestors that he knew of who had similar conditions, and all his siblings were, in his own words, ordinary appearing people. Frank wrote, often people look at me and pass the remark, isn't that too bad? But I am here to tell you that there are lots of people in the world who are a great deal worse off than I am, who have far less to live for, and who have but a fraction of the pleasure that

I get out of life. Frank also used his booklet as an opportunity to soapbox on his own ideas of reproduction. Over the years, he had become increasingly interested in health and hygiene, while so many of his peers in the side show industry ended up as anatomical specimens. Frank was different. Now he was the one observing, synthesizing, and teaching about the human body. There was one chapter in which he summarized the steps of fetal development. Scientists were beginning to

understand more about what happens in utero. Blaming birth defects on things like maternal impression. Exes and curses were by then largely going out of fashion. It's often said that we live out our adult lives in reaction to our childhood, and we can wonder if Frank's keen interest in procreation and morality had anything to do with his early traumatic years.

For his part, Frank performed into his old age. He was a darling of the press, often being profiled under such headlines as mother Nature stacked the deck against Lentini, but he took the hand he got, played it out, and he's been a winner in his pursuit of happiness. We can imagine that sideshow visitors loved him because he felt exceptional in the way he was self governed. He carried himself as an optimist, pursuing happiness and a quote normal life that may have otherwise been denied to some

of his fellow performers. He retired old and jolly to Sonny, Florida. Whether he settled in Miami or Gibson Town, a favorite wintering spot of fellow sideshow performers, is still up for debate. Each likes to claim him as their own. You see, Frank's was an immigrant success story of the highest regard. There's a sign on Ellis Island that says, I was told that in America the streets are paved with gold. When I got here, I found out three things. One,

the streets are not paved with gold. To the streets were not paved at all, And three I had to pave them. But if the American dream was ever really more than just a myth, Frank was one of the lucky few who found it. And that was one story, one myth, one bit of hearsay passed down over the years that he truly wanted to believe in. The bulk

of Frank's career coincided with a larger cultural shift. During his time, the general public began to view different physical appearances not as a form of entertainment, but rather as belonging to fully actualized people. Afflicted by disease and disorder. Whispers swirled and built into a roar, and by the nineteen fifties there were calls from outside the side show world to affirm the dignity of the performers by way of shutting down the side shows. Frank was at the

center of the storm of sensibilities. He was among those who opposed these changes. He advocated for the rights of freaks to perform, arguing that this was the only way many of them could make a living. But while the wider world attempted to open up opportunities for them outside the show, there were some straight facts that were ignored.

Not all of them felt exploited. Some like Frank, actually wanted to work there, and with well meaning folks taking away their ability to perform, while they were effectively stripped of their livelihoods, but still there would be a reason to celebrate. In two thousand sixteen, Rossolini residents through a festival the dress code three legged pants. Of course, they were there to kick off pun intended naturally. The Frank Lentini Memorial Day to quote celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of

the death of America's most famous three legged man. He would be a day of first for Frank's descendants, the first time many of them met each other. The town was set to debut a portrait of him entitled Frank Lentini, King of Wonders. They would do tours of his childhood home, as well as cooking lessons featuring regional dishes, and the final event on the dockets a keynote really was a talk entitled the Value of Diversity. Frank, we can imagine

would have been very pleased. Indeed, I hope today's tour through the side Show helped you see birth and life in a whole new way. Kids come in all shapes and sizes, after all, and they all have their own unique challenges to overcome, which is why I think Frank's story is such a powerful one to hear. But we're not done just yet. If you stick around through this brief sponsor break, my teammate Robin Miniature, will tell you

one more tale about the side Show. They were dressed in doll outfits, born so early that these were the only clothes that would fit their tiny bodies. In the daily battle of life and death at Coney Island. These babies were on the front line, and they were in good company. Inside the infantry um, a team of nurses and starched white uniforms tended to their incubators by foot tall machines birth of steel and glass, and warm air. Each gave the infants a place to rest and a

place to be on stage. Visitors paid twenty five cents to come take a look. They would file through with their hot dogs and bend over the guard rails to look at the babies under glass. Each of them clocked in and no more than two or three pounds. They were barely larger than the palm of your hand, and while the medical establishment had dismissed the infants as weaklings,

Martin Cooney wasn't willing to give up so easily. Doctors would often keep quiet on the issue of premature birth due to the high mortality rate, but Cooney felt that he could not only educate the public with his exhibit, but he could also save lives. Incubators were originally crafted and used for chicken eggs, but it wasn't until the

nineteenth century that they were first used for humans. But they were expensive and experimental and didn't solve the problem of a fragile child who kneaded round the clock care, so where hospitals fell short, Martin and his staff stepped in. They took on the most desperate of cases, providing care until the child was fit to go home or the boardwalk closed for the season. Martin debuted his project at the eighteen nine Industrial Exhibition of Berlin, before taking the

show on the road. He made an appearance at Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee in London and eventually made his way to Omaha, Nebraska. Failing to gain much traction there, he took his exhibit to Coney Island and They're on the Boardwalk. From the beginning of his career until ninety three, he saved over of the eight thousand premature babies he took in. But Martin was no doctor. In fact, he lied about his birthplace, and he changed his name more than once. A lot of his early life is a bit of

a mystery. In true showman fashion, he had created his own story. But this is what we know to be true. Here is a man who changed the phase of neonatal care and did more for the field and these families than anyone else had up until that point. In nineteen o one, the Boston Medical Journal had asked if it was even and a quote worthwhile to try to save these premature lives. A famous propaganda film later circulated that encouraged people to quote kill the defectives, save the nation,

the better baby contests, remember them. We're all part of this larger cultural movement that asked the question who deserved to live? The Infantorium closed down for good in nineteen forty three, the same year that Cornell Hospital in New York City opened up the first neo natal unit, which meant that those babies had somewhere to go after Martin was gone, and some of these babies they're still alive today. For the price of his care, parents paid not a cent.

All expenses were heard by selling tickets to the general public who were hungry to see something they had never seen before, and in the process they funded something even more valuable. Hope Side Show was written by Robin Minat with narration by me Aaron Mankey. Research for the series was by Robin Minator, Taylor Haggard Dorn, and Sam Alberty, with production assistants from Josh Than, Jesse Funk, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. Grim and Mile Presents was created in

partnership with I Heart Radio. You can learn more about this show and everything else from Grim and mild Over at Grim and mild dot com, and, as always, thanks for listening. Open a