cw: discussion of abortion and suicide
Last week, the Roe vs. Wade decision turned 51. For reasons I’m sure the living breathing readers of this newsletter know, it was a bittersweet anniversary. The progressive criminalization of abortion care in this country has been like watching a horror movie without any hope of a satisfying or redemptive conclusion.
When I feel a sense of despair about an injustice, sometimes turning to the past can make me feel if not better, than at least less alone. And one of the most fascinating characters in the history of women’s reproductive care in America is having a moment.
For decades in mid-19th century New York, one Madame Restell treated STDs, sold contraception, offered midwifery services for births deemed “illegitimate,” and performed illegal abortions. She was arrested. A lot. She went to jail. She and her family were harassed at their home. But what she didn’t do was stay quiet.
Restell used the burgeoning mass market of newspapers to advertise her services, without resorting to the euphemisms and coded language other abortion providers used to stay beneath the notice of the police and moral crusaders that sought to shut them down. She was straightforward and frank about the healthcare she was providing. When she was attacked in the press she responded in kind, concluding her written rebuttals with offers to discuss the issue in person at her home office, the address for which she would include.1 And Madame Restell both had every reason to speak out confidently (her pharmaceutical and medical interventions were of the highest quality—she never lost a patient) and every reason to hide: abortion was officially outlawed in New York in 1845, and she continued openly practicing until her death in 1878. Restell’s confidence and bravery made her an easy target: hence the “Wickedest Woman” branding by the tabloids.
Restell’s life ended tragically. After her arrest by noted misogynist dipshit Anthony Comstock, she died by suicide hours before her trial was set to begin. She was 66 years old. But let’s conclude by celebrating what a fascinating badass she was. Did I mention that she carefully constructed her entire identity, starting with her name? She was born Ann Trow in England, and picked “Madame Restell” because it sounded French. She then made up a French midwife grandmother to go with it, who allegedly taught her everything she knew. But Ann was self-taught, died a self-made millionaire, and helped hundreds of women to live their lives the way they chose.
Two biographies of Restell have been published recently, The Trials of Madame Restell and Madame Restell, but for my money, a woman this compelling and dramatic deserves a full theatrical production. And guess what? There is one! I was lucky enough to see Jessica Bashline’s production of Wickedest Woman in 2019, and it blew me away. Looks like Jessica is currently touring a solo show related to Madame Restell, her process researching and writing the play, and its implications in a post-Dobbs world. I think texts investigating the history, current state, and future of reproductive healthcare with the goal of making stories about abortion not true “crime” stories at all are vital to making this country a safer and freer place.
148 Greenwich Street in Manhattan, less than a block away from where I teach!
I recall reading somewhere that children used to chase her carriage down the stairs chanting, 'Your house is built on baby skulls!' 'Fascinating badass' vs. 'noted misogynist dipshit' is a terrific premise for a movie. I think we should propose it to someone.