Freak Attractions

When Margaret Mere of Maidstone in Kent gave birth to a seriously deformed baby, she tried to keep her distress to herself. The last thing she expected was to become a subject worthy of national news. But when a reporter got wind of the story and described the child as an evil portent and 'a warning to England', mother and child became reluctant celebrities. The year was 1568. The story was made public in 'broadsheets', a form of media with the flavour of today's tabloid press and reality TV.

In the rudimentary press of 16th century England, sensational reporting about freakish births was a staple attraction and, according to Parish records, human curios exhibited in the flesh were an even greater pull on the crowds.

In Shrewsbury, a child with cloven feet was displayed at the abbey fair in 1579. And in 1583, a travelling merchant bought a veritable cabinet of curiosities to town, including a dead child with two heads.

In 1585, the remains of malformed triplets from Monmouthshire were on view in London. And in 1615, the Kentish mother of deformed infants was 'relieved by much money, which out of Christian compassion many bestowed on her'.

Transgressions of nature clearly captivated gawping masses of the past just as much as they do today. Indeed, the tradition of travelling freaks and deformities cuts a deep vein that links the past with the present. History is littered with famous examples of strange human marvels, many of them enjoying posthumous fame today.

The huge bones of Charles Byrne, the 18th century 'Irish Giant' are on show at the Royal College of Surgeons. And the distorted skull of the celebrated Elephant Man can still be seen at the Royal London Museum.

The recent re-release of Tod Brownings classic 1932 film Freaks reveals a public with an ever hearty appetite for freak shows. Freaks, it seems, are as much on the menu today as they ever were. What is the attraction?

In the 16th century, monstrous births were most often read as a sign from a displeased deity, either as a warning to individual sinners, usually the parents, or as a generalized warning to the community at large. At the same time there was the beginning of a move away from such supernatural interpretations to a more natural-scientific view, although the popular press in all periods have generally preferred to stick with superstition.

This dichotomy is mirrored by contemporary reactions to Milagros Cerrón. In the rural community that she came from she is seen as a curse, a supernatural portent. Others, including Rubio, simply understand her fate as a failure in the development of a normal blood supply to the lower half of her body in utero; a failure that medicine could correct.