Abstract
Nineteenth century whaling voyages commonly lasted several years, as the vessels and crews would not return to their home port until the holds were full of whale oil. Sailors with wives and families at home would be separated from their loved ones until their job at sea was done. This extended separation led many whaling wives to join their husbands on board. On the musty, cramped ships that would be their homes for several years, some whaling wives brought their children along, some were pregnant when they boarded and some conceived at sea. Ideally, a pregnant whaling wife would be put ashore in the later stages of her pregnancy to avoid giving birth on board the dirty, pitching, male-dominated whaling ship, but such relief was not always possible. Nineteenth century childbirth was shifting from female-dominated midwifery to male-dominated medical obstetrics. This change was marked by new training in midwifery, the invention of new obstetric equipment, and sometimes, more positive obstetric outcomes. Even on land, at the best of times, childbirth was still a potentially dangerous and devastating experience. This paper compares typical childbirth conditions, strategies and outcomes of the nineteenth century with those faced by whaling wives at sea.
Introduction
Superstitions amongst sailors regarding ‘bad luck’ discouraged the presence of women on sailing ships for centuries. Nonetheless, during the height of the whaling industry, the idea of being parted for many years at a time inspired many nineteenth-century whaling captains to bring their wives along on extended whaling voyages. Like their male counterparts, these whaling wives at sea were far removed from comforts, family, friends and medical attention. Women on board these ships sometimes began their journeys pregnant or became pregnant during the extended voyages. While, ideally, they would put into port near the later stages of pregnancy, there was no such convenience for some women, and the whaling grounds could be so remote that childbirth at sea was unavoidable.
This paper will consider accounts of pregnancy and childbirth experienced by captains’ wives on whaling ships to understand the conditions and frequency of such events. Childbearing at sea has not been extensively studied or understood by scholars. Various factors affect childbirth, including maternal health, level of medical knowledge and standards of care, sanitary conditions of labour and delivery spaces, and the quality of new-born care; thus, childbirth in history is a broad research area. This study draws upon medical, feminist and maritime studies to expand the understanding of childbirth on ships in the nineteenth century and add to the knowledge base of women's experience at sea. What was childbirth at sea like for women in the nineteenth century? How did the risks of childbirth at sea compare with those of childbirth on land? Who primarily attended women in labour on sailing ships in the nineteenth century? How did childbirth on whaling ships reflect the medical standards of the time?
This paper will begin by reviewing the state of childbirth, midwifery and obstetrics in the nineteenth century. Next, it will offer a glimpse into the daily lives of women onboard whaling ships. The third section of this paper will describe the materials and methods used to explore individual cases of women giving birth during whaling voyages. Finally, this paper will revisit the research questions and offer conclusions about the frequency and conditions of women who gave birth during whaling voyages in the nineteenth century.
Background
Nineteenth-century pregnancy and childbirth
For much of human history, childbirth was a relatively private, intimate affair steeped in tradition, superstition and danger. Childbirth and associated complications have been a leading cause of death for women for centuries. Women frequently feared childbirth because of the potential complications and the physical pain endured in the process. Pregnancy and childbirth in the nineteenth century were also undergoing a shift in the midwifery profession to an expanding field of obstetrics, as the scientific understanding of these processes and complications was still developing.
In the nineteenth century, many pregnant women were cared for by a midwife at home or medical professionals at a lying-in hospital. The profession of midwifery, defined as the practice of assisting women in giving birth, has been known since the early fourteenth century and has primarily been a female-dominated field. 1 Older women past their childbearing years often served as midwives for younger women, drawing upon their own experience and that of their close female friends and relatives. These women primarily learned their skill set from the women who came before them and from their own first-hand experience until the professionalisation and regulation of midwifery occurred in the seventeenth century. 2
Historically, husbands sometimes attended and assisted in the birth of their children. Still, childbirth was more commonly a female affair, with priests or barber-surgeons only attending for a complicated delivery and the necessity of their expertise. 3 The field of obstetrics changed drastically with the invention of the forceps in the late sixteenth century. These tools were reserved for male doctors and were used to successfully aid the delivery of a baby from a complicated birth. 4 The price of forceps, the reluctance to train midwives to use them, and the institutionalisation of hospitals set the stage for the medical and male transformation of childbirth. 5 Male, physician-dominated childbirth occurred more rapidly in urban areas, while rural women continued to be attended by female midwives. 6
An array of ailments could cause a complicated or even fatal delivery. Blood loss, pre-eclampsia and puerperal fever were common and dangerous conditions that could occur during or after childbirth. 7 While blood loss was unpredictable, and pre-eclampsia often presented before labour began, puerperal fever often did not affect a woman until the days immediately after delivery. Also known as ‘childbed fever’, puerperal fever accounted for nearly half of maternal deaths in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. 8 Puerperal fever was not well understood in the nineteenth century as some of its symptoms were rather generic, including headache, fever, chills, nausea and vomiting, while more severe symptoms included muscle contractions, thirst, abdominal distention, racing pulse, blanched tongue and difficulty breathing. 9
Physician Thomas Denman described puerperal fever in his late eighteenth-century essay and acknowledged that while the affliction was well known, effective treatments were not. 10 Based on cases he had witnessed, Denman described puerperal fever as often occurring within a few days of birth; symptoms included shivering, abdominal discomfort and swelling, nausea, fever, loss of control of bodily functions and dry mouth. 11 He had good instincts when connecting specific experiences during labour to the likelihood of suffering from puerperal fever, suggesting that women with difficult labour were less likely to contract the disease because of the care they received and that women with extreme blood loss were at increased risk. 12
Ultimately the study of infective diseases led to the understanding that puerperal fever was an infection caused by various bacterial strains. 13 Unfortunately, until the acceptance of germ theory at the end of the nineteenth century, hospitals did little to improve maternal mortality rates as obstetricians would tend to several women and babies without washing their hands or tools, which caused infections like puerperal fever to spread like wildfire. 14 Approximately 18% of births occurred at lying-in hospitals in Dublin in the nineteenth century, and 60% of the maternal deaths in the mid-nineteenth century at those lying-in hospitals were attributed to puerperal fever. 15 This is probably a conservative estimate as puerperal fever outbreaks, which occurred repeatedly, were sometimes recorded in vague terms so as not to alarm the public and cause a drop in hospital admittance. 16 Epidemics of puerperal fever were almost unheard of in midwifery; while cases certainly occurred, they did not spread rapidly, if at all, as was the case in hospital wards. 17
In addition to labour and delivery, women have long feared the possibility of a miscarriage. In the nineteenth century, the presumed causes of a miscarriage ranged widely, including ‘violent exercise, or very hot baths, wear[ing] tight corsets, [having] a fall, or a severe blow on the abdomen, suffer[ing] from an infectious disease, as scarlet fever, or some forms of chronic disease, [subjection] to extreme mental emotion, or any prolonged strain’. 18 Nicholas Culpeper's Directory for Midwives warned that miscarriages were most likely ‘in the two first months of their conception, because then the ligaments are weak, and soon broken; and towards the latter end of her time, because then the womb is so full’. 19 While the cause of a miscarriage can be any of the events above, it should be noted that one can occur entirely randomly and at any time during a pregnancy. 20
Diaries kept by nineteenth-century midwives are an invaluable source of information concerning childbirth practices and outcomes. Elizabeth Drinker's diary documented nearly 70 years of her life as a Quaker woman in Philadelphia. 21 She delivered eight children of her own, three of whom died in infancy, and closely monitored the pregnancies of her three daughters and one daughter-in-law. 22 Drinker recorded several of her own miscarriages and the details of her daughters’ conditions near the time of delivery as well as friends who died in childbirth or whose infant children died. 23 From her descriptions, which became more detailed as she aged, pregnancy and childbirth were distressing and unpredictable.
The diary of Martha Ballard, a midwife in Maine at the end of the eighteenth century, also provides numerous accounts of pregnancy and birthing situations. While her commentary remains mostly objective, Ballard's journal entries are very detailed, including information on the weather and her daily travels. She also discussed the course of treatment she pursued with her patients and kept a running tally of babies she delivered. The descriptions of labour and delivery are not overly detailed but illuminate the frequency of even slightly complicated childbirth in the eighteenth century. 24
In comparing delivery outcomes between Ballard and early nineteenth-century physician James Farrington, Laurel Thatcher Ulrich showed that they averaged the same number of deliveries per year and the same rate of maternal deaths. However, all of Ballard's maternal deaths occurred within two weeks of giving birth, while all but one of Farrington's occurred at the time of delivery. Additionally, Farrington's rate of ‘difficult’ births was four times that of Ballard, and the number of stillbirths was about twice that of hers. 25 This may reflect physicians’ and midwives’ opposing views of childbirth as the latter viewed childbirth as a natural process that occurred on a spectrum of ‘complications’ rather than a medical event that needed to be remedied.
Manuals for women concerning pregnancy, childbirth and child-rearing gained popularity in the nineteenth century. Elisabeth Robinson Scovil's Preparation for Motherhood provides unique insights into the experience and level of medical and social advancement surrounding pregnancy at the time. Scovil discusses the indications of pregnancy as including the cessation of monthly menstruation, morning sickness, enlargement of the breasts, changes to the navel and ‘quickening’, or the feeling of the foetus moving in the uterus. Recommendations for comfort and health during pregnancy included eating a balanced diet rich in fruits, vegetables, cereals and high-quality meat, wearing loose-fitting clothes to avoid restricting movement or growth, exercising moderately outdoors and keeping the disposition positive and calm. 26 She also offered a method of calculating due dates and discussed the likelihood of infant survival at various stages of pregnancy. 27
John Abbot's The Mother at Home advised mothers on raising their children. 28 Although Abbott did not write about pregnancy and childbirth, his work was incredibly popular and has been published repeatedly even into the twenty-first century. Even whaling wives away from home acquired copies of Abbott's book and read his work before delivering their children. 29 Unlike the works of Culpeper and Denman, Abbot and Scovil's publications aimed to inform women themselves, not medical professionals.
Life onboard whaling ships for women
The nineteenth-century Industrial Revolution led to advances in agriculture and manufacturing. Increasingly complicated machinery required lubrication, and whale oil was an excellent source of that lubrication. Whale oil was also highly desirable for use in oil lamps and soap. Non-toothed whales also offered baleen, used in various consumer goods, such as corsets, hoop skirts, and umbrellas. High demand for these products led to the commercialisation of the whaling industry, and New England seaports became home bases for many whaling ships and their crews. Whaling voyages lasted as long as it took to meet quotas, which could be anywhere from months to years, ranging throughout the Earth's five oceans. Owing to the length of these commitments, and the need for supplies in the far reaches of the world, communities associated with the whaling industry developed along the coast of South America and throughout many of the Indo-Pacific Island chains. These ports provided opportunities to gain crew members and allowed families to travel or even relocate to see their whalers more often than when living in New England. 30 To understand the circumstances of women who gave birth onboard whaleships in the nineteenth century, it is necessary to appreciate the conditions aboard those ships. Most whaling wives desired the company of their husbands above all else, despite any discomforts that may have come along with life on a whaleship.
As the whaleship was a workplace above all else, whale blubber storage and processing were of primary concern. When a whale was spotted, small boats were lowered and rowed toward the cetacean until they were close enough for the harpooner to stab the animal. A rope connected the harpoon to the small boat, dragging the crew behind until the whale tired and the men could pull the boat close enough to kill it before towing it back to the ship. Back onboard with the whale tied alongside the ship, the men would cut off strips of blubber, tongues, jaws, baleen and even brains to be hoisted on deck. The fat was boiled in large cauldrons on deck to render its oil, which was then stored in casks in the hold.
Processing whales was ‘at times dirty, smelly, tiresome, and monotonous’ and took priority in the division of space onboard a whaleship. 31 The captain generally kept a cabin at the stern of the ship with quarters where wives and children primarily resided. They would spend time on deck when the weather was nice. 32 The layout of the whaleship Charles W. Morgan is often cited as a typical arrangement of quarters for the captain and his family, as well as the higher-ranking officers. The captain's stateroom was the cabin that held the captain's sturdy four-poster bed, as well as storage space in the form of built-in cupboards and drawers. Connected to the stateroom was the after-cabin or sitting room, which included a sofa and writing desk, where many whaling wives would spend their days. The main cabin was forward of the after-cabin and had a large table where the captain, his family, and the officers took their meals. 33 Although there is no record of women giving birth on board this ship (although Lydia Landers gave birth on land in Guam in 1865 during a voyage aboard Charles W. Morgan), women who gave birth on board other whaleships probably did so in spaces comparable with the quarters of Charles W. Morgan.
Wives onboard whaling ships, like Mary Brewster and Mary Chipman Lawrence, often kept diaries where they describe spending their time cleaning their cabins, reading, writing letters, sewing for themselves and others on board, observing activity on deck and attempting to educate and reform their children or even the crew. 34 Occasionally passing whalers would stop for a ‘gam’ or a visit between crews. One wife would usually be rowed to the other ship at these events to exchange pleasantries, mail, small gifts and often have a meal together. 35 Whaling wives often complained of boredom, missing family at home and the frustration of the captain and crew when whales were scarce. 36 Nonetheless, captains’ wives continued to accompany their husbands onboard whaling ships throughout the nineteenth century.
Cases of childbirth during whaling voyages
The dataset of women who gave birth during whaling voyages was initially composed of accounts from published volumes on whaling, whaling wives, and whaling families. The American Offshore Whaling Voyages Database offered additional cases of wives onboard, which were cross-referenced with the existing accounts in the dataset. 37 Each woman was investigated using United States Census and birth and death records to determine if she probably gave birth during the whaling voyage.
Several complications arose while gathering this information. First and foremost, the birth of a child was not the most important thing to occur on a whaling vessel and was often only briefly mentioned, if at all. For example, Charlotte Dehart wrote in her journal in 1861 that they had arrived in New Zealand aboard Roman and stated, ‘our darling little boy was borned [sic] we took also 212 bbls of sperm oil from the ship Navy’. 38 The logbook keeper onboard Thomas Pope in 1862 wrote briefly of the captain's wife, Hannah, in one entry stating, ‘Looking for whales, reduced sail to double reef topsails at 9PM Mrs. Robbins gave birth of a daughter and doing nicely latter part fresh breezes and squally at 11 AM took in mainsail’. 39 Abbie Hicks mentioned the birth of her daughter in 1873 quite matter-of-factly, writing in her diary, ‘baby born about 12 – caught two rats’. 40
The second obstacle was the nature of Victorian conservatism, which meant that writing about such ‘vulgar’ events was done in a sort of ‘code’, rarely mentioning their condition in detail. 41 As was the custom of the time, women often utilised euphemisms such as having ‘taken sick’ or been ‘confined’. 42 Martha Brown first mentions her pregnancy in February of 1848 when she writes that she had been keeping busy ‘below sewing, fixing an old dress into a loose dress [maternity dress]’. 43 Adra Ashely makes a similar reference in an 1860 letter stating, ‘I am spending most of my time mending – I want to say what it is, but how can I! How dare I!’ 44 Towards the end of her pregnancy, over the summer months, Martha Brown referenced her condition at various times as her ‘circumstances’, ‘situation’, ‘in family way’ or generally feeling ‘sick’. 45 Her journal also mentions other wives reaching their confinement and their conditions after delivery, but never in detail. 46
Another issue arose when official census, birth, death and marriage records gave conflicting information regarding place of birth. In this case, discretion was used to determine the place of birth, cross-referencing the American Offshore Whaling Voyages Database information on each voyage with all available records for an individual. In the cases where census records were conflicting, records with the most specific information recorded by the census taker were preferred to those where census takers repeatedly used ‘ditto’. An additional census-related issue was the possibility that children born between censuses may not have lived until the next census was taken and thus may not be identifiable in this research. State censuses taken between national censuses helped in this situation, as well as vital records and funerary monuments.
The last factor that impacted this dataset was that births at sea with adverse outcomes, particularly the child's death and possible burial at sea or abroad, may not have been recorded anywhere at all. Additionally, these instances often occurred in foreign lands or waters where a memorial was impractical. Based on these potential shortcomings in research, it is likely that childbirth on whaleships was more common than even this dataset represents.
The dataset in this study comprised 137 instances of childbirth to 89 different women during whaling voyages between 1820 and 1895 (Table 1). Data was analysed using IBM SPSS Statistics software. Within this dataset, delivery during whaling voyages peaked in the 1850s (Figure 1), with over half the cases occurring in that decade (51%, N = 70). Most births in this dataset occurred on land (76%, N = 105), with less than a quarter (23%, N = 32) occurring at sea. Adverse childbirth outcomes were surprisingly low in this dataset; only 8% (N = 12) of examples resulted in some form of complication, while 91% (N = 125) were successful. The maternal mortality rate in this study was 0.2% (N = 3) compared with the general maternal mortality rates in the nineteenth century, which ranged between 0.4 and 0.65%. 47
Frequency of childbirth during whaling voyages by decade.
Nineteenth-century births during whaling voyages.
Women put onshore
As more whaling families went to sea and the industry boomed, communities formed throughout the Pacific where women were typically left to give birth. Ideally, if a captain's wife was pregnant and near her due date while at sea, the expectant mother would go ashore when the ship put into port to resupply. The vessel would leave to continue whaling while the woman was left behind to deliver her infant and would reboard when the ship returned.
Even delivery on land was not always desirable when it meant living in a foreign place without family and friends for support. As they neared the end of their pregnancies, women in these whaling communities had to find assistants wherever they could. A Chilean midwife delivered Mary (Carlin) Cleaveland's daughter, Ninita, in Talcahuano in 1857. 48 Martha Brown recorded her undesirable situation while she stayed in Honolulu, and childbirth neared. She wrote only a few days before her son was born that she had only made one friend who she expected to have with her during delivery. 49 Cordelia (Small) Childs’ experience at Honolulu was quite the opposite as Eliza Edwards recorded attending the birth of Mrs Childs’ daughter along with the doctor, the landlord's wife and a missionary wife, and that she (Eliza) stayed with Mrs Childs and the baby overnight following the delivery. 50 While overwintering at Herschel Island, north of Canada's Yukon Territory, Caroline ‘Carrie’ Sherman, who sailed with her husband on board Beluga, gave birth to a daughter and was attended to by several other whaling wives who were also overwintering at the time. 51
When considering locations where these women went onshore to give birth (N = 104), Hawaii/the Sandwich Islands accounted for most instances (37%, N = 38), followed by Chile (13%, N = 13), Australia (11%, N = 11), Peru (7%, N = 7), St Helena Island (6%, N = 6), the Azores (6%, N = 6), French Polynesia (5%, N = 5) and New Zealand (5%, N = 5). Other land locations in this dataset occurred fewer than five times (Figure 2). Three women in this dataset managed to return home to New England to give birth during their husbands’ whaling voyages.
Frequency of births on land by region.
Hawaii, also known as the Sandwich Islands during the nineteenth century, was the most common location in this study for pregnant women during whaling voyages (37%, N = 38); interestingly, none of those births were recorded as complicated. There were slightly more girls (55%, N = 21) than boys (45%, N = 17) born on land in Hawaii. Several women also made repeated stops in the Hawaiian Islands to give birth. Adra (Braley) Ashley bore three children at Hilo during two separate whaling voyages; first in 1857 during her voyage on Reindeer and again, seven years later, when she gave birth in 1864 and in 1865 while her husband continued whaling aboard Governor Troup. 52 Cordelia (Small) Childs bore two children in Honolulu on two separate whaling voyages: her son Byron in 1854 and daughter Minnie in 1858. 53
The Pacific coast of South America was a popular location for whaling wives to go ashore and give birth, namely Talcahuano, Chile, and Paita, Peru. Either because of miscalculated due dates, general dislike for being at sea or because there may not be another chance to go ashore for some time, several women spent extended periods on land in these foreign whaling communities. For example, Charlotte (Coffin) Wyer was set ashore in March of 1854 in Talcahuano and gave birth to her daughter Harriet in September. 54 Clarissa (Dexter) Cleveland successfully gave birth to a girl, also named Clarissa, in Talcahuano in April of 1856 but died five months after delivering her daughter, with her cause of death recorded as ‘stoppage’, which is understood to be a condition of the bowels. 55 Likewise, Elizabeth (Sherman) Green gave birth to her son, Levi, in Talcahuano in March 1860, but they both died in Peru just a few months later, Elizabeth in July of typhoid fever and Levi in August of consumption. 56 Clarissa and Elizabeth's deaths are not included in this study's complicated cases because they cannot be conclusively linked to the childbirth experience.
Over half the recorded instances of a whaling wife giving birth in Australia were on Norfolk Island and were delivered successfully between 1857 and 1871. 57 Maria Hamblin gave birth to her daughter on the mainland of Australia in 1860 and returned two years later to have her son, Henry, on Norfolk Island in 1862. 58 Maria's sister-in-law Emily Hamblin went ashore a decade later in Australia to give birth to her son Winfield Scott in 1873. 59
More unique birth locations included French Polynesia, Samoa, the eastern coast of Africa and Russia. Five children were born successfully in French Polynesia, including Lucy (Roberts) Giffords’ son Leonard and Lydia (Goodspeed) Landers’ son Arthur, born in Guam in 1863 and 1865, respectively. 60 Nancy (Wyer) Grant's two sons were born in the Samoan islands, one on Pitcairn and one on Navigator's Island. 61
A handful of children were born along the eastern coast of Africa during whaling voyages. Eliza (Long) Babcock's daughter Minnie and Alvina Rogers’ daughter Alice were born on land in Mauritius in 1862 and 1875, respectively. 62 Harriet (Butler) Allen's son Henry was born in the Seychelles in 1858. 63
Women onboard
Although perhaps not the preferred arrangement, pregnant women onboard whaling ships sometimes delivered their infants while still at sea (Figure 3). Most of the 32 childbirths at sea in this dataset were simply recorded as ‘at sea’ (31%, N = 10). Still, some specified the general region along the coast of South America, Russian waters or the waters surrounding Australia and New Zealand. Most of the births at sea were successful (90.6%, N = 29), with only three complicated deliveries (9.4%). The frequency of childbirths at sea seems to have peaked in the 1850s (43.8%, N = 14), mirroring the overall trend in births experienced by women during whaling voyages with the lowest numbers at the beginning and end of the nineteenth century.
Frequency of births at sea by region.
The earliest known instance of a whaling wife giving birth onboard a ship occurred in 1820 when Louisa (Fearing) Gibbs gave birth to her son onboard Arab. 64 Harriet (Taylor) Taber's son Charles and Elizabeth (Coffin) Gifford's daughter Priscilla were both born onboard in the frigid waters of the northern Pacific Ocean. 65 Charlotte (Heppingstone) Brown's daughter Mary and Mary (Jennings) Drew's son Herbert were both born at sea in Russian waters aboard North Star in 1851 and Abigail in 1853, respectively. 66
Without a midwife or physician onboard, most children born on whaling ships were delivered by their fathers. Captain Thomas Wilson of the whaleship James Arnold attempted to get his wife, Rhoda, onto land when she went into labour. 67 After arriving in port and finding no doctor, Wilson sent a small party to locate the physician upriver, but by the time the crew returned, the captain had already delivered his own daughter. 68 Captain James Cawse also delivered his own daughter, Maud, in 1879, two days away from making port. 69 Cawse's wife, Emma, noted that the delivery went ‘pretty well, thank God. James … is exceedingly kind, no one could act nicer, or more gently’. 70 Some women were confident in their husbands’ ability to deliver their child safely at sea, while others had reservations. Eliza Edwards wrote of Captain Henry Green's wife, who planned to have her baby on board and noted, ‘She has more confidence in him than I’d have in mine’. 71
The case of Captain Charles Nicholls attending to his labouring wife is humorous in its retelling but was surely a traumatic situation for the captain and crew alike. In 1853, Captain Nicholls brought his wife, Caroline, along on his voyage aboard Sea Gull, and as she neared the end of her pregnancy, Nicholls sought advice from another whaling captain, Peter Smith of Young Hector. 72 Smith instructed Nicholls that delivering an infant was easy as long as he could ‘devote all of his attention to his wife, and the easy way to make sure of that was to have the first mate at the ready in the cabin, all prepared to take over the baby the moment the infant was born’. 73 When Caroline finally went into labour, her husband followed Smith's directions and had the first mate ready to receive the new-born. Shortly after the infant was delivered, ‘the Captain again opened the cabin door and shouted: “Ahoy, there! Call the second mate!” … a second lusty youngster was passed out’. 74 Moments later, Captain Nichols shouted again, ‘I dunno! I dunno! Wait a minute – I’m not sure it's over yet. Better tell the third mate to stand by!’ 75 Ultimately, though, a third child was not born.
Complicated births during whaling voyages
Surprisingly, very few complicated births were identified during this research (Table 2). Complicated births include instances of mortality, twins and post-natal concerns such as insufficient milk supply (Figure 4). Of the 136 children born, only 8% (N = 12) were affected by complications, but 75% (N = 9) of those resulted in fatalities. Fatalities were more common on land (77%, N = 7) than at sea (22%, N = 2). Additionally, infant mortality (62%, N = 5) was marginally more frequent than maternal mortality (38%, N = 3). One case in which one mother died after delivering twins initially skewed the maternal mortality rate, as this case appeared in the data set as two births and two deaths but has been corrected to appear as a single death. Interestingly, none of these cases resulted in both the mother and infant dying. Finally, complicated births peaked in the 1850s, mirroring the trend of births during whaling voyages overall.
Frequency of types of complications.
Complicated births.
Cases of infant mortality showed no correlation to place or decade. Anna (Cammett) Burgess lost her infant at birth while ashore in Talcahuano, Chile, in 1852. 76 Lucy (Hix) Crapo gave birth to her son, Wilmer, onshore in the Azores during a voyage onboard Louisa in 1865, and he died less than a week later. 77 Elizabeth ‘Lizzie’ Brightman was put onshore at Norfolk Island from California in 1882, where her son Georgie died three days after his birth. 78
Annie (Holmes) Ricketson went ashore in the Azores to deliver her child in 1871. 79 Annie sailed with her husband, Daniel, the captain of the whaleship A. R. Tucker, from 1871 to 1874 as they traversed the Indian Ocean from South Africa to New Guinea in search of whales. The Ricketsons and their crew departed New Bedford, Massachusetts, in May 1871 and arrived in the Azores by the end of the summer. Less than five days into the voyage, on 22 May, Annie slipped on the stairs and sprained her ankle. 80 In August, they arrived in the Azores to resupply. Three days after coming ashore, on 29 August 1871, Annie wrote that she ‘had a poor nights rest and to day I cannot get up. Called the doctor about six o clock and twenty minutes past nine our little one was born which proved to be a little girl which of course we were very proud of’. 81 The following day, she mentioned that although her daughter was ‘very pretty’ she was also ‘such a tiney [sic] thing, only weighed three pounds’. 82 Unfortunately, after spending the summer on board her husband's whaling ship and then delivering her daughter away from home and family, Annie Ricketson's daughter died at two days old. 83
Annie Ricketson made minimal mention of her condition during her summer at sea. If she delivered at full term, it would have meant that she was roughly six months into her pregnancy when the ship departed New England. Although it is possible the Ricketsons would have embarked on their voyage regardless, it seems more likely that Annie discovered her pregnancy while at sea. If this were the case, given Elisabeth Scovil's description of premature birth and the recorded weight of the new-born, it is estimated that Annie Ricketson likely gave birth between four and six months of her pregnancy. 84
Instances of maternal mortality showed no correlation to place; however, two-thirds of maternal deaths occurred in the 1850s. Donna Maria (Chase) Bennett is a case of maternal mortality and the second instance of twins in this study. While onboard the ship Massachusetts in the waters off Hawaii in 1853, she delivered her twin sons only to die six days after their difficult birth in the Honolulu harbour. 85 Maria (Kean) Kelley had been sailing onboard Robert Edwards in 1856 when she was put onshore at Talcahuano, Chile, to deliver her baby. She died from puerperal fever just three days after giving birth to her daughter, who was also named Maria. 86 Finally, Myra (Weeks) Heyer died the day she gave birth to her daughter, also called Myra, on St Helena Island in 1881, having been sailing with her husband on board Wanderer. 87
This study identified two instances of non-fatal complications: a non-fatal case of twins and a case of low milk supply. Caroline (King) Nichols’ delivery of twins onboard Sea Gull has already been described above. 88 Lucy (Hix) Crapo appears in the complicated births for a second time but as a non-fatal example. Her daughter, Louisa, was born on board Louisa two years after her son's death in the Azores, but in this case, Lucy had complications with her milk supply, feeding the baby ‘rice water with sugar and “what milk I can give her”’. 89
Multiple births at sea
By the second half of the nineteenth century, women sailed with their whaling husbands so often and for so long that some women experienced multiple births abroad (Figure 5). Of the 89 women in this study, 35 gave birth to more than one child during their whaling voyages. Most women who experienced multiple births during whaling voyages had two children (66%, N = 23), fewer had three children (31%, N = 11) and only one woman had four children during her whaling voyages (3%) – only a quarter of the multiple births occurred at sea (25%, N = 21).
Number of births during whaling voyages per woman.
Women who gave birth twice during their voyages often did so once on land and once at sea. Abbie (Dexter) Hicks had two daughters – Elizabeth Dexter, born onboard Mermaid in the Seychelles in 1873, and Florence Kempton, born on land in Portugal in 1882. 90 Charlotte Dehart had two sons – Alexander, born onboard Roman II in 1858, and John, born on land in New Zealand in 1861. 91
Several women had multiple children within a single voyage. All three of Eliza (Griswold) Williams’ children were born during whaling voyages on the ship Florida. 92 Similarly, Ann Beckerman gave birth to three children during Othello's 1853–1858 voyage. 93 Emily Hamblin had three children during her voyage on Eliza Adams: Sylvanus Allen at sea in 1868, Winfield Scott on land in Australia in 1873 and Percy Calvin in New Zealand in 1875. 94 Eunice (Rogers) Lawrence had three children during her whaling voyages: two on land during the 1853–1858 voyage of Commodore Morris (Samuel, born in 1855 and Augustus, born in 1857) and Frederick, born in 1867, during a journey on Ohio. 95 Her sister-in-law Mercy Lawrence had two daughters – Mary, born at sea onboard Anaconda in 1854, and Amelia, born on land in the Azores in 1857. 96
Anna (Cammett) Burgess was the only woman in this study to deliver four children during her whaling voyage onboard Robert Edwards. All her children were born on land in South America. Margaret and Edward were born in Talcahuano, Chile, Robert in Paita, Peru and Helen in Tombez, Peru. 97
Some women may have preferred specific locations when giving birth during whaling voyages. Salome Davis had all three of her children on St Helena Island while accompanying her husband onboard Desdemona. 98 During her trip aboard Rambler, Elizabeth (Sampson) Willis had all three children at Hilo, Hawaii, in 1853, 1855 and 1857. 99 Nancy (Chapman) Bolles and Sarah (Reynard) Wall each gave birth twice in Hawaii. 100 Similarly, Ophelia (Beaman) Harrison bore both her sons in Australia in 1857 and 1859 during the voyage of Mars. 101
Maritime baby names
A final important aspect of giving birth is the naming of the new-born. For whaling wives at sea in the nineteenth century, many followed the conventions of the Victorian Era, naming their children after family members, royalty or Biblical characters. Children born at sea, though, were sometimes named for significant things in their parents’ lives, such as the ship they were born on or an important nearby landmark. While most of the children born during whaling voyages were given typical Victorian names, 10% (N = 14) were given names with a maritime theme. Children born at sea were more likely to have a maritime-oriented name (28%, N = 9) than those born on land (5%, N = 5). Most of the maritime names referenced the whaling ship (43%, N = 6), while the rest equally represented geographical associations (29%, N = 4) and generic maritime names (29%, N = 4). While children of both sexes received maritime-themed names, male children had a slight majority (57%, N = 8) over females (43%, N = 6). Finally, maritime-themed names followed the general trend seen in this study, seeing a peak frequency in the 1850s (36%, N = 5).
Three girls were named after the ships on which they were born. Mary Caroline Smith, who sailed with her husband, Captain Franklin Smith, onboard Chelsea from 1837 to 1840, endured 24 hours of labour without a physician or a midwife and named her new-born daughter Chelsea after Smith's ship. 102 Additionally, Flora Williams was born onboard Florida in 1866, and Louisa Crapo was born onboard Louisa in 1867. 103 Similarly, Charles Bowditch Waldron received his middle name from the ship his parents sailed on, Bowditch. 104 It is inferred that Robert E. Howland and Bernice Howland Jones were likewise named, as their parents sailed onboard Robert Edwards and George Howland, respectively, although both were born on land in 1839 and 1865. 105
Geographical locations appear in the names of four children born abroad – James Fernandez Coffin was born aboard Athol in 1846, roughly 60 miles from Juan Fernandez Island; Lena Russell Wilson was born onboard James Arnold in 1874, in the Bay of Islands near Russell, New Zealand; and Helen Herschel Sherman was born on Hershel Island in the arctic during her parents’ voyage aboard Beluga from 1894 to 1896. 106 Similarly, Hannah (Griffin) James gave birth to a baby girl in 1853 in the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii) named Honnolula. 107
Finally, four boys received maritime-oriented middle names – William Fish Williams was born onboard Florida in 1859. 108 The name ‘Seaborn’ was frequently used as a middle name, appearing in three names: James Seaborn Bennett and William Seaborn Bennett, the twins born in 1853 onboard Massachusetts, and Ernest Seaborn Hamblin was born onboard Islander in 1872. 109
Discussion
Using the wealth of information provided here, this article now addresses the original research questions. What was childbirth at sea like for women in the nineteenth century? Childbirth at sea in the nineteenth century occurred in two forms – onboard the ship itself and on land in a foreign port during the voyage. At sea onboard a whaling ship, women had to make do with the supplies they had, delivering in their cabin with limited support. On land, women had access to more familiar comforts, like childbed linen and midwives, but lacked the support of friends, family and community at home.
How did the risks of childbirth at sea compare to childbirth on land? Infant and maternal mortality profiles for the cases of childbirth during whaling voyages seem to be within the expected range for the time. Contemporary midwives’ and physicians’ records indicate that their mortality rates were similar to the cases in this study. However, two differences stand out: the lower occurrence of puerperal fever in women delivering at sea and the lack of access to a medical professional during difficult births. It is possible that some of the women in this study who died in childbirth could have survived if a midwife or physician had attended them.
Who primarily attended women in labour on sailing ships in the nineteenth century? Women who delivered their infants onboard whaling ships were likely attended to by their husbands, another wife on a passing ship, or no one at all. Whaling wives delivering in foreign ports were attended by local midwives, other whaling wives or women they connected with in town.
How did childbirth on whaling ships reflect the medical standards of the time? Childbirth at sea on whaling ships of the nineteenth century does not seem to have occurred in an environment or community all that different from that which a woman would have experienced at home, except for the lack of female companionship and support. Obstetrics had not yet become a standardised field, but enough information had been published by midwives and physicians in the nineteenth century that these women were not particularly deficient in knowledge or technology. The only obstetrical technology of the time was the forceps, which were used sparingly regardless.
Conclusions
This article has reviewed the history of childbirth and midwifery as it relates to obstetrics in the nineteenth century. The evidence gathered from journals, census records and published research indicates that childbirth during whaling voyages was not uncommon. The statistical analysis conducted in this study shows that childbirth at sea or in foreign ports seems to align with general mortality profiles and environmental quality in the urban centres of Europe and New England at the time. Thus, childbirth at sea appears to have been no more dangerous than childbirth on land at home or in a lying-in hospital; in fact, it was probably safer than the conditions of the latter. The lack of access to midwives and physicians was just one more sacrifice made by whaling wives of the nineteenth century.
