Cold Open

It’s June 1935, in the small village of Corbeil, Ontario.

From the upstairs window of his modest farmhouse, 31-year-old Oliva Dionne has a bird's eye view of the crowd gathering across the street. They're hovering around the gates of a new building opposite Oliva’s farmhouse - the Dafoe Hospital and Nursery.

Oliva shakes his head, a complex swirl of emotions running through him. A year ago, Corbeil was just a sleepy French-Canadian village, its inhabitants struggling through the Great Depression just like everyone else. Today, though, it’s a lively tourist attraction known to the world as “Quintland.” Thousands of people flock to the Hospital each day, hoping to catch a glimpse of the miracle babies of Corbeil: the five identical quintuplets born to Oliva and his wife Elzire.

The gates of the hospital swing open, allowing a wave of admirers onto the property. This happens twice a day. And a few yards in, the crowd reaches a second fence that encircles the facility. This is as close as most of them will get, and there’s jostling among the tourists as they fight for the best view of the show that’s about to begin.

From his window, Oliva watches the doors to the hospital open.

The crowd behind the fence grows quiet in anticipation as a nurse walks out onto the veranda, holding up a one-year-old baby girl.

Her name is Yvonne. And with some encouragement from the nurse, she shoots her admirers a smile and waves.

Oliva flings open the window and leans out, hoping to catch his daughter’s eye. But before he can even attempt to meet her gaze, the nurse turns sharply and carries Yvonne back to the nursery. As soon as she disappears inside though, an identical baby is brought out. This is another of Oliva's children, Annette. Oliva waves, desperate for the little girl to look in his direction. But she too doesn’t see him. Neither do his other girls, Cécile, Émilie, and Marie, who are all paraded along the veranda in quick succession.

The watching crowd coos and cheers but Oliva doesn’t. Unlike the tourists, he sees the Dafoe Hospital not as a place of miracles and wonder but a prison that keeps him and his children apart.

When the Dionne quintuplets were born, the world was captivated by their very existence. As the first set of quintuplets known to survive infancy, they were hailed as real-life miracles. But it wasn’t long before these miracles were exploited for financial gain - first by their parents, and then by the Canadian government. The abuse would continue for years and the damage it did would linger long after the miraculous birth of the five girls on May 28th, 1934.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham, and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is May 28th, 1934: The Birth of the Miracle Quintuplets.

Act One: The Birth

It’s early on May 28th, 1934, in the rural village of Corbeil, Ontario.

It’s still dark when Doctor Allan Dafoe rushes out the door of his red brick house with his coat and medical bag in hand and jumps into his car. It’s four in the morning, and Allan has just been informed that one of his patients, Elzire Dionne, has gone into labor two months prematurely.

Allan’s not surprised by the news. He checked on Elzire just a couple of weeks ago and noted that she was suffering symptoms of what we now know as preeclampsia, which is typically characterized by high blood pressure and fluid retention.

It often leads to death. Given the severity of the situation, Allan gave Elzire strict orders to rest in bed. But as a mother of five young children already, that’s not easy for 25-year-old Elzire to do.

Allan parks his car and bounds into the Dionne family farmhouse. In the bedroom at the very back of the house, two midwives hover over Elzire. Sweat beads down her face as she struggles to catch her breath. Just minutes earlier, she gave birth to two baby girls.

But Allan has no time to check on them. Before the doctor can even properly wash his hands, Elzire gives birth to a third baby girl. This one though, doesn’t seem to be breathing, and the midwives take swift action. They blow deep breaths into her tiny mouth, forcing air into her lungs.

A few tense moments pass, but then finally the baby takes a breath and cries out.

As the midwives wrap the newest arrival in ripped-up sheets, Allan notices Elzire writhe in pain. He can’t believe his eyes; the young mother is not done giving birth. But Elzire is losing strength by the minute. Her pulse is weak, and she can’t push anymore. So, Allan intervenes. He presses his hands against Elzire's swollen belly and helps push out a fourth baby. Two minutes later, he does the same for a fifth and final baby girl.

Incredibly, Elzire Dionne has just given birth to quintuplets. The last two infants are still in their amniotic sacs, their little arms and legs floating eerily in translucent fluid. The sight momentarily transfixes Allan before he ruptures the sacs and then goes to work to get the girls breathing.

Combined, the five babies weigh less than 14 pounds, and their torsos are so small that they can fit in the palm of Allan's hand. He puts on a brave face, but he can’t help feeling pessimistic. He’s never heard of quintuplets surviving for long and doubts any of the girls will last the week.

But that doesn’t stop news of the “Dionne Quints” spreading across the globe. Quintuplets occur roughly once in every 57 million births, so the newborns are viewed as miracles—especially now, in the throes of the Great Depression, when everyone’s desperate for some good news.

Soon, generous benefactors and newspaper owners are sending gifts to the Dionne family – some of them in exchange for exclusive rights to photographs of the babies. Life-saving incubators for the tiny girls arrive, and every day the train brings a fresh batch of breast milk donated by other nursing mothers eager to help.

The girls' father 30-year-old Oliva is overwhelmed by it all. While he always wanted a big family, he never anticipated having this many babies at once. He of course wants his miracle Quints to survive. But he can’t help worrying how he will feed and care for them all if they do.

The meager salary Oliva makes as a gravel hauler barely makes a dent in the family’s mounting bills. And it’s not just food and clothes his new daughters need—it’s round-the-clock medical care. Oliva needs to make money and fast. Luckily for him, a lucrative opportunity is about to fall into his lap.

Three days after the birth of the Quints, Oliva is approached by a man named Ivan Spear. Ivan wants to display the Dionne quintuplets at the Chicago World’s Fair. And in exchange, he’s promising to cover all of the girls' medical expenses and provide Oliva with a weekly stipend, as well as a percentage of the ticket sales.

It’s an incredible offer, more money than Oliva could ever imagine. But as he considers the contract, he hesitates. Oliva doesn’t like the idea of his little girls in a glass cage being gawked at by curious spectators.

Sensing Oliva's reluctance, Ivan assures him that the girls will be provided with every luxury. He even promises that Oliva's wife, Elzire, will have the final say in all matters concerning the girls' well-being.

Finally convinced, Oliva signs the contract.

Within a day, the agreement leaks to the press. But instead of stoking excitement about the public debut of the miracle Quints, the stories written make Oliva look like a money-hungry opportunist.

He and Elzire try to defend their decision, but the damage is already done. Before long, it will seem like everyone in the world thinks that the Dionnes are unfit parents. And calls will grow for the Canadian government to step in and take charge of the future care of the miracle babies of Corbeil.

Act Two: Quintland

It’s May 24th, 1935, in Corbeil, Ontario, almost a year after the birth of the Dionne quintuplets.

The girls’ mother, Elzire Dionne, leads her cousins, who are visiting from Montreal, through the gates of the newly-built Dafoe Hospital and Nursery. She spots her daughters, Yvonne, Annette, Cécile, Émilie, and Marie, napping in their carriages on the porch, and she is excited to introduce her little miracles to her family.

But as Elzire approaches the building, a nurse appears and orders her to stay back. Visiting hours are over. Elzire and her family protest, pleading for just a quick look at the girls. But the nurse stands her ground, insisting that rules are rules. Elzire and her guests will just have to return the next day during regular visiting time.

Two months ago, Canada passed the Quintuplet Guardianship Act. It made the Dionne girls wards of the state until they reach the age of 18. The doctor who delivered them, Allan Dafoe, was appointed as one of their guardians, and, under his supervision, the girls were removed from their family home and relocated across the street to the newly erected Dafoe Hospital and Nursery.

Now, Elzire and her husband Oliva have to adhere to strict protocols. To even see their children, they must ring a bell at the hospital gate and be escorted in by guard. Once inside, they are never left alone with the quintuplets and are only allowed limited physical contact.

All of these rules make Elzire feel more and more disconnected from her daughters, and she starts to question her role in their lives. Over time, the anguish of witnessing others care for her children becomes unbearable.

When her girls turn one, Elzire does not participate in their birthday parties. But little Yvonne, Annette, Cécile, Émilie, and Marie don’t notice her absence. They’re too young to know any different. The staff at the Dafoe Hospital and Nursery are their primary caregivers now, and they treat the girls like princesses. They’re dressed in the finest clothes, have plenty of toys to play with, and get all the professional medical care that money can buy.

But this royal treatment will come at a cost.

And in the summer of the next year 1936, the now two-year-old Dionne quintuplets are outside in the hospital’s playground, romping around in a wading pool. But they aren’t alone. Their playground is surrounded by one-way glass. The infants can’t see them, but on the other side of the glass, in a specially built observatory, where hundreds of people are watching them play.

The Quintuplets have become a tourist attraction, complete with hot dog stands and gift shops.

"Thanks chiefly to the government of Ontario, each day, weather and health permitting, the children may be seen without charges of any kind. And an ingenious system has been devised, whereby the visitors are not seen by the quintuplets."

Twice a day, crowds push their way inside the observatory to witness these real-life miracles. They watch the girls riding their tricycles or playing in the sandpit. They’re completely ordinary feats for young children, yet the spectators can’t help but be amazed. The world is still scarred by the Great Depression and seems to find solace in the existence of the Quintuplets.

And over the next few years, the girls’ popularity only skyrockets, leading to lucrative endorsement deals from companies like Quaker Oats and Karo Corn Syrup. They receive visits from Hollywood celebrities like Bette Davis, Greta Garbo, and Clark Gable. They are even received by real British Royalty during King George VI and Queen Elizabeth’s trip to Toronto.

The girls’ father, Oliva, is incensed. The Canadian government has essentially done what they accused Oliva and Elzire of doing—exploiting the children for monetary gain. Admission to the observatory may be free, but the Quints are still bringing in millions to the province of Ontario. Oliva has his own souvenir shop, trying to grab a slice of the pie. But it’s Dr. Allan Dafoe who’s the one benefiting most from endorsement deals.

By the summer of 1939, the girls are five years old and Oliva has had enough. He threatens to take Allan to court for the money he’s made from his daughters. Perhaps fearing public backlash, Allan resigns his position as the girls’ guardian and advocates for the Dionne family to be reunited.

And in January 1940, Oliva and Elzire Dionne will finally regain legal custody of their daughters. Plans will be set in motion to build a home large enough for the entire Dionne family to live in. But this will be no happy homecoming - because Yvonne, Annette, Cécile, Émilie, and Marie will be rejoining a family they never knew.

Act Three: A Tragic Homecoming

It’s November 17th, 1943, in Corbeil, Ontario, almost four years after Oliva and Elzire Dionne regained custody of their daughters.

Nine-year-olds Yvonne, Annette, Cécile, Émilie, and Marie Dionne sit uncomfortably at a large dinner table, beside their mother and father and their seven other siblings.

Earlier today, the girls made the 100-yard journey from the Dafoe Hospital and Nursery to what the girls will come to know as the Big House. It’s a monstrous, Georgian-style mega-mansion with 19 rooms and 9 bathrooms – all constructed for their homecoming. But the girls are unsettled - overwhelmed by the size of the house and unsure how to navigate the people inside.

Before they start their meal, they listen as their father Oliva tells them that they should no longer think of themselves as a set of Quints. In fact, they are no different from their siblings sitting beside them at the table. As such, the girls will be expected to do chores like everyone else, and if they disobey, they will face consequences like everyone else.

It’s a lot for the sisters to digest. Everything about life with their real family is new to them, and proves harder than they expected. Their mother Elzire reprimands the Quints for every little infraction. But unfortunately, that’s soon the least of the girls’ worries. When they become teenagers, Oliva starts sexually assaulting his daughters. The girls seek help from their priest and the nuns at their Catholic school, but no one takes action to stop the abuse.

So, as Yvonne, Annette, Cécile, Émilie, and Marie navigate their adolescent years, they grapple with overwhelming feelings of anxiety, shame and guilt. They dream of the escaping from the Big House, which they do as soon as they turn 18.

For the most part, the Quints then go on to live fairly unremarkable lives—at least when compared to their unusual beginnings. Decades later though, in 1998, one of Cécile’s sons launches a campaign to ensure his mother and aunts are compensated for their exploitation as children. The government turned a tidy profit from the girls, and when the world rediscovers their story, there’s plenty of support for their cause. With public scrutiny over the case mounting, the Premier of Ontario agrees to pay the quintuplets a total of 4 million dollars in compensation. It’s a win that comes too late for two of the sisters, though. Émilie died at the age of 20 from a seizure, and her sister Marie was just 35 when she suffered a blood clot in the brain.

The childhood of all five girls was cruel and exploitative. But with time, there comes healing and perspective. In August of 2018, the two surviving quintuplets, Cécile and Annette, return to the place where they were born to be honored by the Canadian government. On the old family farmhouse is now a plaque commemorating the historical significance of the Dionne sisters’ lives as the first recorded quintuplets to ever survive infancy after their birth on May 28th, 1934.

Outro

Next on History Daily. May 29th, 1953. Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay become the first explorers to reach the top of Mount Everest.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Matthew Filler.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Jane Oh.

Edited by Joel Callen.

Managing producer Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.