It may now be internationally known for its annual arts celebrations, but back in the late 18th century, Edinburgh was world-famous for a very different type of theatre. The city’s medical school was a renowned destination for aspiring doctors to learn their craft, with many going on to make significant contributions in the world of surgery and anatomical study. The National Museum Of Scotland’s new exhibition, Anatomy: A Matter Of Death And Life, explores the relationship between society, poverty, ethics and science over a 500-year period, highlighting the capital’s position as a pioneering centre of modern medicine and how it earned this status.

‘The study of anatomy at that time (and now) was considered important for the education of medical practitioners, surgeons and physicians,’ explains Dr Tayce Phillipson, the museum’s Senior Curator Of Science who was heavily involved in curating the exhibition. ‘However, this work relied on the dissection of bodies, the sourcing of which was often controversial and distressing. Anatomists could only get the quantity of bodies they wanted through dehumanising the dead and financing a murky industry. Murder was a particularly shocking consequence of this, with people killed for the sale price of their bodies.’ She is, of course, referencing the infamous 1828 Burke and Hare murders, where 16 people were killed so their bodies could be sold to Dr Robert Knox, a hitherto distinguished anatomy lecturer in Edinburgh, for seven to ten pounds a pop. 

^{Dr Tayce Phillipson admiring The Anatomy Lesson Of Dr Willem Röell by Cornelis Troost (1728)}

The circumstances that gave rise to Burke and Hare’s nefarious actions are explored in this exhibition through some of the intriguing objects designed to stop resurrectionists from bodysnatching. These include a curious coffin collar handed in to the museum 120 years ago by an unknown source, and a 500kg iron mortsafe that would have housed an entire coffin. The latter ended up being the trickiest item to prepare for display. ‘It has required trigonometry, model making and lots of head scratching!’ insists Diana de Bellaigue, the museum’s Artefact Conservator.

Handling such sensitive material wasn’t just physically taxing; ensuring it was displayed in an ethical manner was a central challenge for the curators. ‘The whole of the exhibition covers such powerful topics that don’t need added sensationalism,’ says Phillipson. ‘We stuck to what could be supported by evidence, and especially where we could reveal the story through real objects.’

As a prime example, William Burke’s full skeleton is the only semblance of human remains on display. ‘Human remains have their own strong impact and ethical considerations, especially the remains of people whose bodies were probably dug up by grave robbers,’ continues Phillipson. ‘By limiting our display of actual human remains to Burke’s skeleton (and a note written in his blood), we anticipate that this will be particularly thought-provoking and impactful for our visitors. It should lead some to think about exactly this question of displaying such historic anatomical specimens.’

^{Group of charms to cure ailments} 

Elsewhere, dissections of specimens and references to the human body are explored through animal bones, anatomical figures, and sketches by Leonardo da Vinci and other European artists. ‘I hope the story people will find in all this is the contrast between the clean elegance of lines in anatomical drawings and the scientific knowledge,’ explains Phillipson, ‘as well as the realms of social and physical unpleasantness which were necessary to achieve that end.’

A more sociological look at how people dealt with illness is the focus of a charms and amulets display, highlighting some of the alternative healing methods adopted when medical intervention wasn’t available. ‘These show just how prevalent the use of charms were in every corner of Scotland,’ says Dr Ailsa Hutton, the musem’s Assistant Curator, Modern And Contemporary History. ‘Most of them had specific uses. For instance, a touch piece was handed out by sovereigns and the queen for a very specific type of tuberculosis called scrofula.’ Other objects include a rattle made of geese windpipe that was used for healing whooping cough and a recipe book compiled by a housewife. ‘On one page you could get a recipe for lemon sponge and then on the facing page there would be a remedy for curing convulsions . . . so it really does cover all bases,’ Hutton jokes. 

^{Skeleton of William Burke}

Thought-provoking questions raised by the exhibition range from how far medical practices have come since the 18th century to how many of our societal rituals around death have been influenced by this history. ‘Many more deaths are now handled in hospitals and funeral homes rather than at home with arrangements made within the community,’ says Phillipson. ‘And the fact that your body can be useful after death, from organ donation to training doctors, has become a more familiar idea.’

As a society we may be more familiar with donating our organs to science, but with longer life expectancy and less infant mortality, we are surely far less intimate with death in its truest sense than ever before.

Anatomy: A Matter Of Death And Life, National Museum Of Scotland, Edinburgh, until Sunday 30 October.