Jewish Female Physicians

Female doctors were not unknown in medieval Europe. I've written before of Trotula, for instance, and of course there were midwives. The practice of midwifery was naturally dominated by women; in some cases  men were not even allowed in the room during childbirth. Even if they were, they did not necessarily involve themselves directly in the process. One medieval Jewish medical text, in the section on childbirth, has the physician direct the midwife to "massage the orifice of her womb" with herbs rather than do it himself.

But Jewish women were not just midwives. Many of them learned and practices medicine thanks to their families. Jews were not allowed to attend Christian universities, so they could not earn medical degrees in the normal way. Anyone could, however, "test out" by passing an exam and earning a license to practice medicine. Jews—female as well as male—did this by learning from mentors and family members who were physicians.

Two examples were Hava from Provençal, mentioned in the 1320s for her medical ability, and Virdimura, who earned her medical license in 1376 in Sicily. In both cases, we know that their husbands were physicians (in Hava's case so were her sons), and so medicine was clearly the "family business." Mayrona, from Provençal, appears in 40+ documents starting in 1342 as a holder of a licentia curandi et practicandi, a "license to practice medicine."

Jews were more likely to be familiar with Greek and Arabic, as well as Latin and Hebrew, and therefore had access to more medical texts than their Western European counterparts who knew Latin but did not have as many opportunities to learn other languages, and also may not have had the motivation to read texts written by non-Christians. Female Jewish doctors were accepted in Paris, Florence, and Naples as well as Sicily. They were also respected enough to become teachers of medicine as well: Sara of St. Giles was a Jewish doctor who in 14th-century France took on a Christian pupil.

I cannot in truth say that female doctors were accepted everywhere, and tomorrow I'll share some of the less-tolerant stories of this topic. See you then.

Midwives

When Guy de Chauliac mentioned midwives in his great work on surgery, it was only a mention: he declined to express details because the field was dominated by women; men were not even allowed into the room when a woman was giving birth. In fact, "One Henne Vanden Damme, for having hid behind a staircase to eavesdrop upon his wife, she being in labour of childbirth, which thing doth not befit a man, for the said eavesdropping was fined 15 livres." [source]

Later in the Middle Ages, there was regulation of midwifery, but midwives, unlike doctors, were not associated with any formal training. In fact, some of the early manuals produced on midwifery—by the rare individuals in the profession who were literate—do not even demonstrate current medical knowledge. Midwives never formed into guilds, as other professions did with regularity. So far as we know, the qualifications for becoming a midwife were gained from on-the-job experience. Even Trotula, the famous female doctor and professor of medicine, discussed many female conditions but not the subject of childbirth.

According to Joseph and Frances Gies:

During labor the midwife rubs her patient's belly with ointment to ease her travail and bring it to a quicker conclusion. She encourages the patient with comforting words. If the labor is difficult, sympathetic magic is invoked. The patient's hair is loosened and all the pins removed. Servants open all the doors, drawers, and cupboards in the house and untie all the knots.
...
When the baby is born, the midwife ties the umbilical cord and cuts it at four fingers' length. She washes the baby and rubs him all over with salt, then gently cleanses his palate and gums with honey, to give him an appetite. [Life in a Medieval City, pp.60-1]

Some historians have noted that the regulation of midwifery started generally around the same time as persecutions for witchcraft. This is, of course, not true in all countries, but it would be difficult to miss the similarity between two different practices of trying to place controls on a segment of society that was in a position of potential harm, either through neglect (on the part of midwives) or design (on the part of witches).