A Short Narrative of an Extraordinary Delivery of Rabbets, Perform'd by Mr. John Howard Surgeon at Guilford

In Short

This book is a firsthand, contemporary report by a royal surgeon, Nathanael St. André, concerning a woman in the town of Godlyman who allegedly gave birth to a series of rabbits. The narrative follows St. André’s journey to verify the case, his clinical examinations of the patient, and his struggle to reconcile these impossible biological events with his medical knowledge. It has endured as an infamous historical document, revealing the intersection of public gullibility, professional ego, and one of the most audacious hoaxes in British history.

The Story

The narrative begins in November 1726, when Nathanael St. André, an anatomist and surgeon to King George I, learns of an extraordinary case in Surrey. A local woman, Mary Toft, is reported to be giving birth to rabbits. Attracted by the curiosity of such an unprecedented event and spurred by correspondence from a local practitioner, Mr. John Howard, St. André travels to Guilford to witness the phenomenon firsthand.

Upon his arrival, St. André finds the town in a state of agitation and the medical community divided. He meets Mary Toft, who appears to be in the final stages of labor. St. André, acting with the clinical detachment of a man of science, proceeds to perform an examination. To his apparent bewilderment, he successfully extracts parts of what he identifies as a rabbit—a trunk, a head, and various internal organs—directly from the woman’s body. He describes the physical state of the "creatures," noting their anatomical peculiarities, the lack of expected biological markers of pregnancy, and the specific, rhythmic movements he and others witness within the woman's abdomen.

St. André documents his interactions with the patient, her husband, and the attending nurse, consistently reinforcing the narrative that Mary Toft has been physically affected by a deep "longing" for rabbits after a failed hunting attempt in a field months prior. He takes pains to describe the clinical, almost sterile, environment of the examinations, noting his own hands-on involvement to emphasize the authenticity of the deliveries. He also includes the testimony of other professionals, such as Mr. Ahlers, another royal surgeon who initially confirms the phenomenon before later wavering, leading to a series of sworn affidavits that attempt to cement the veracity of the events.

The narrative moves through a series of increasingly frantic medical interventions. St. André and his colleagues monitor the woman’s vitals, examine membranes and animal parts in spirits of wine, and compare them against natural rabbit specimens. Despite the growing skepticism from the public and the mounting pressure on the surgeons to explain how these creatures could exist within a human uterus, the text maintains a tone of earnest, if increasingly strained, investigation. The account concludes with St. André’s promise to publish a full, illustrated anatomical study, firmly convinced that he is documenting a medical anomaly that will revolutionize science, even as the walls of the hoax begin to close in on him.

How It Unfolds

The initial report St. André receives letters from a trusted colleague, Mr. John Howard, confirming that a local woman has delivered multiple rabbits. The surgeon, driven by a mixture of professional curiosity and a sense of duty to document the impossible, arranges for an immediate investigation.

The clinical encounter Upon reaching Guilford, St. André examines Mary Toft while she is in labor. He describes the physical extraction of animal parts, meticulously detailing their appearance, texture, and the lack of trauma to the patient, all while maintaining a posture of objective medical observation.

The weight of evidence The author compiles observations from several witnesses, including other surgeons and local officials, to build a wall of testimony. He highlights the physical movements observed in the woman’s belly and compares the "rabbits" to natural specimens to bolster the argument that this is a genuine, albeit miraculous, biological event.

The defense of truth As outside skepticism grows, particularly regarding the behavior of other attending surgeons, St. André pivots to legalistic maneuvers. He gathers sworn affidavits from the town mayor and other witnesses to defend his own reputation and the legitimacy of the extraordinary deliveries he witnessed.

The People

Mary Toft, the central figure, is described as a woman of "sullen temper" and modest means who maintains the pretense of her impossible condition. She is the anchor of the hoax, providing the narrative of "longing" that serves as the period-appropriate explanation for her state.

Mr. John Howard, the local surgeon, acts as the primary gatekeeper and facilitator. His insistence on his own "probity and character" drives the initial acceptance of the case, as he is the one who first brings the woman to Guilford and manages the sequence of "deliveries."

Nathanael St. André, the narrator, is a man of status and scientific pretension. He is clearly eager to be the one to solve the mystery and present it to the King. He wants to be seen as a rigorous man of science, yet his desire to believe in the extraordinary blinds him to the obvious fraud unfolding in his hands.

Mr. Ahlers, the secondary surgeon, serves as the point of conflict. His vacillation—initially confirming the births, then retreating to London—creates the friction that forces St. André to defend the reality of the rabbits through official oaths and angry documentation.

In Its Own Voice

"As Mr. Howard himself intends shortly to publish the whole Account, and prove every Circumstance of it, by such Evidences as will put this Matter out of all possibility of Doubt, I must refer to him for several Particulars here omitted."

(St. André deflects the reader to his colleague, building anticipation for a definitive, scientific proof that never arrives.)

"I instantly cut off a piece of them, and tried them in Water; they seemed but just specifically lighter than it, and Mr. Molyneux pressing them to the Bottom they rose again very slowly."

(The author applies rudimentary physics to the biological evidence, attempting to lend a veneer of laboratory precision to the fraudulent remains.)

"The Rabbet which I extracted weigh’d one and twenty ounces Averdupoize, making an allowance for one of the Paws not yet come away, and part of the Viscera that were lost."

(St. André demonstrates his commitment to clinical record-keeping, treating the impossible as a matter of measurable weight and anatomical parts.)

What It's Really About

At its heart, this text is a study of institutional failure and the fragility of expertise. It asks how readily educated men can be deceived when they are presented with a "wonder" that fits their own preconceived notions of nature’s volatility. It explores the tension between the observational method of the Enlightenment and the older, more superstitious belief in maternal impressions—the idea that a woman’s thoughts could physically alter the development of a fetus. The narrative is less about the rabbits themselves and more about the desperate, frantic effort of a medical establishment to maintain its authority by treating an obvious deception as a legitimate scientific curiosity.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of medicine or the sociology of hoaxes will find this a fascinating, if occasionally frustrating, primary source. It captures the frantic, earnest tone of a man documenting his own downfall. The language is the formal, slightly stiff prose of the early 18th century, which, when combined with the grotesque subject matter, creates a uniquely unsettling atmosphere.

The book is not for those looking for a modern, debunked analysis; it is, rather, the pure, unadulterated record of the delusion itself. You will experience the creeping suspicion that the narrator is missing the forest for the trees, focusing on the weight of a rabbit’s heart while ignoring the absurdity of the entire premise. The difficulty lies in the dense, period-specific medical terminology and the repetitive nature of the affidavits, which serve to shield the author from the reality he refuses to acknowledge. What stays with you is the chilling realization that human beings—especially those in positions of power and education—are often the most capable of ignoring the obvious when they are committed to a narrative that promises to make them famous. Reading it today feels like watching a slow-motion train wreck, where the engineers are busy measuring the wreckage while the train is still clearly off the tracks.