CHAPTER VIII.

THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. Faith Healing.—Charms and Astrology in Medicine.—The Revival of Learning.—The Humanists.—Cabalism and Theology.—The Study of Natural History.—The Sweating Sickness.—Tarantism.—Quarantine.—High Position of Oxford University. FAITH-HEALING. Medicine in mediæval Christian history is simply the history of miracles of healing wrought by saints or by their relics. Bede’s _Ecclesiastical History_, for example, is full of saintly cures and marvels of healing. The study of medical science under such circumstances could have had but little encouragement. Doctors were but of secondary importance where holy relics and saintly personages were everywhere present to cure. In the Catholic Church there are special saints who are invoked for almost every sort of disease. St. Agatha, against sore breast. St. Agnan and St. Tignan, against scald head. St. Anthony, against inflammations. St. Apollonia, against toothache. St. Avertin, against lunacy. St. Benedict, against the stone, and also for poisons. St. Blaise, against the quinsey, bones sticking in the throat, etc. St. Christopher and St. Mark, against sudden death. St. Clara, against sore eyes. St. Erasmus, against the colic. St. Eutrope, against dropsy. St. Genow and St. Maur, against the gout. St. Germanus, against children’s diseases. St. Giles and St. Hyacinth, against sterility. St. Hubert, against hydrophobia. St. Job and St. Fiage, against syphilis. St. John, against epilepsy and poison. St. Lawrence, against diseases of the back and shoulders. St. Liberius, against the stone and fistula. St. Maine, against the scab. St. Margaret and St. Edine, against danger in child-bed. St. Martin, against the itch. St. Marus, against palsy and convulsions. St. Otilia and St. Juliana, against sore eyes and the headache. St. Pernel, against the ague. St. Petronilla, St. Apollonia, and St. Lucy, against the toothache. —— and St. Genevieve, against fevers. St. Phaire, against hæmorrhoids. St. Quintam, against coughs. St. Rochus and St. Sebastian, against the plague. St. Romanus, against demoniacal possession. St. Ruffin, against madness. St. Sigismund, against fevers and agues. St. Valentin, against epilepsy. St. Venise, against chlorosis. St. Vitus, against madness and poisons. St. Wallia and Wallery, against the stone. St. Wolfgang, against lameness. Pettigrew[803] gives the above list, but probably it might be considerably extended. CHARMS AND ASTROLOGY. A curious little MS. volume was discovered amongst the MSS. at Loseley, which contained a Latin grammar, a Treatise on Astrology, various medical recipes and precautions, with forms for making wills. It had probably been a monk’s manual. The writing was the character of the fifteenth century. Some of the medical recipes and astrological precautions are said to be taken from “Master Galien (Galen), leche,” thus:—“_For all manner of fevers._ Take iii drops of a woman’s mylke yt norseth a knave childe, and do it in a hennes egge that ys sedentere (or sitting), and let hym suppe it up when the evyl takes hym.—_For hym—that may not slepe._ Take and wryte yese wordes into leves of lether: Ismael! Ismael! adjuro te per Angelum Michaelum ut soporetur homo iste; and lay this under his bed, so yt he wot not yerof, and use it all-way lytell, and lytell, as he have nede yerto.” Under the head,—“_Here begyneth ye waxingge of ye mone, and declareth in dyvers tymes to let blode, whiche be gode._ In the furste begynynge of the mone it is profetable to yche man to be letten blode; ye ix of the mone, neyther be (by) nyght ne by day, it is not good.”[804] One Simon Trippe, a physician, writing to a patient to excuse himself for not being able to visit him, says: “As for my comming to you upon Wensday next, verely my promise be past to an old pacient of mine, a very good gentlewoman, one Mrs. Clerk, wch now lieth in great extremity. I cannot possibly be with you till Thursday. On Fryday and Saterday the signe wilbe in the heart; on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, in the stomake; during wch tyme it wilbe no good dealing with your ordinary physicke untill Wensday come sevenight at the nearest, and from that time forwards for 15 or 16 days passing good.”[805] This is very similar to what we find in Bede’s _Ecclesiastical History_, where (A.D. 686) “a holy Bishop having been asked to bless a sick maiden, asked ‘when she had been bled?’ and being told that it was on the fourth day of the moon, said: ‘You did very indiscreetly and unskilfully to bleed her on the fourth day of the moon; for I remember that Archbishop Theodore, of blessed memory, said that bleeding at that time was very dangerous, when the light of the moon and the tide of the ocean is increasing; and what can I do to the girl if she is like to die?’”[806] Holinshed says[807] that a lewd fellow, in the sixth year of Richard the Second, “took upon him to be skilful in physick and astronomy,” predicted that the rise of a “pestilent planet” would cause much sickness and death amongst the people; but as the pestilence did not appear, the fellow was punished severely. Stow records[808] that one Roger Bolingbroke, in the second year of Henry the Sixth (1423), was accused of necromancy and endeavouring by diabolical arts to consume the king’s person. He was seized with all his instruments of magic and set upon a scaffold in St. Paul’s Churchyard, where he abjured his diabolical arts in the presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury and many other prelates. The punishment for witchcraft was hanging or burning alive. Strutt says[809] that it was extremely dangerous in those days to pretend to any supernatural knowledge; as every one believed in the influence of malignant spirits, and that they were obedient to the call of the necromancers. “No contagion could happen among the cattle of a farmer, but the devil was the cause, and some conjurer was sought out; so that if any wretched vagabonds of fortune-tellers could be found, they were instantly accused of this horrid crime, and perhaps burnt alive.”[810] THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING. POPE NICHOLAS V. (1389-1455) was a man of great intellectual sympathies. He was not devoted to any one branch of learning, but was “a well-informed _dillettante_, wandering at will wherever his fancy led him.” Æneas Sylvius said of him: “From his youth he has been initiated into all liberal arts; he is acquainted with all philosophers, historians, poets, cosmographers, and theologians; and is no stranger to civil and canon law, or even to medicine.” He was the patron of scholars, and was equally devoted to ecclesiastical and profane literature. Although he was the son of a physician, it is not true that he was ever one himself, as has been stated.[811] It is pleasant, however, to reflect that this pope, whose name is most intimately associated with the revival of learning, probably imbibed much of the scientific lore of his time which his father’s profession would encourage, and that taste for learning and that liberal spirit which has always been associated with the medical profession. The Humanists—as those who devoted themselves to the Humanities, such as philology, rhetoric, poetry, and the study of the ancient classes, were called—found a friendly reception at the papal court. NICHOLAS OF CUSA was the reforming Cardinal Bishop of Brixen (1401-1464). Giordano Bruno called him “the divine Cusanus.” In physical science he was greatly in advance of his age, and he united moral worth with intellectual gifts of the highest order. POPE PIUS II., better known in literature as Æneas Sylvius, pope from 1458 to 1464, was also a great friend to the Humanists, a man of great intellectual power. He stands forth in history as “the figure in whom the mediæval and the modern spirit are most distinctly seen to meet and blend,” ere the age of science begins to strangle the age of superstition. Professor Creighton says that Pius II. is the first writer “who consciously applied a scientific conception of history to the explanation and arrangement of passing events.”[812] LEONARDO DA VINCI (1452-1519), “the Faust of the Renaissance,” excelled not only as an artist, but in all kinds of experimental investigation. He was an anatomist, botanist, physiologist, and chemist. Had he applied himself wholly to science, he would have been foremost in that branch to which he devoted his wonderful energies. He was one of the greatest and earliest of natural philosophers. He has been declared to have been “the founder of the study of the anatomy and structural classification of plants, the founder, or at least the chief reviver, of the science of hydraulics—[the discoverer of] the molecular composition of water, the motion of waves, and even the undulatory theory of light and heat. He discovered the construction of the eye and the optical laws of vision, and invented the camera obscura. He investigated the composition of explosives and the application of steam power.”[813] MATTHEW DE GRADIBUS, of Fiuli, near Milan, in 1480 composed treatises on the anatomy of the human body. He first described the ovaries of the female correctly. GABRIEL DE ZERBIS (about 1495), of Verona, an eminent but verbose anatomist, dissected the human subject, and recognised the olfactory nerves. He mentioned the oblique and circular muscular fibres of the stomach. ALEXANDER ACHILLINI (1463-1512), of Bologna, the pupil of Mondino, is known in the history of anatomy as the first who described the two bones of the ear (tympanal bones), the malleus and incus. In 1503 he showed that the tarsus (or ankle and instep bones) were seven in number, so painfully and slowly was such a simple thing in human anatomy settled in those times. He was more accurately acquainted with the intestines than any of his predecessors. CORNELIUS AGRIPPA (1486-1536) was born at Cologne, and was a profound student of what is known as “Occult Philosophy,” a strange jumble of astrology, alchemy, cabalism, theology, and the teaching of the so-called “Hermetic Books.” This sort of thing has of late years again become fashionable under the revived name of Theosophy. He seems to have been sufficiently harmless; but as he knew much more of physical science than was considered consistent with good churchmanship in those times, he was persecuted by the monk Catilinet, and was forced to fly from place to place. JOHANN REUCHLIN (1455-1522) was the first great German humanist. His services to learning were chiefly in connection with the restoration of Hebrew and Greek letters in Germany. He worshipped truth as his god, was interested in philosophy, especially in that of the Cabala, in which he sought a theosophy which should reconcile science with religion. His sentiments brought him into conflict with the Inquisition, but by appeal to Rome, after a long and tedious process, the trial was quashed; the consequence being that the lovers of learning and progress banded themselves together against the opponents of learning, and assured the progress of the principles of the Renaissance in Germany. Reuchlin was the author of a celebrated work, entitled _De Verbo Mirifico_. THE SWEATING SICKNESS. The disease known as the sweating sickness first made its appearance in England in 1485, after the battle of Bosworth. It followed in the rear of Henry’s victorious army, and spread in a few weeks from Wales to the metropolis. It is described by Hecker[814] as being “a violent inflammatory fever, which, after a short rigor, prostrated the powers as with a blow; and amidst painful oppression at the stomach, headache, and lethargic stupor, suffused the whole body with a fetid perspiration.” Holinshed[815] describes it thus: “Suddenlie a deadlie burning sweat so assailed their bodies and distempered their blood with a most ardent heat, that _scarce one amongst an hundred_ that sickened did escape with life; for all in maner as soone as the sweat took them, or within a short time after, yeelded the ghost. Two lord mayors and six aldermen died within one week. Many who went to bed at night perfectly well were dead on the following morning; the victims, for the most part, were the robust and vigorous. One attack gave no security against a second; many were seized even a third time.” The whole of England was visited by this plague by the end of the year. When it reached Oxford, professors and students fled in all directions, and the University was entirely deserted for six weeks. Medicine afforded little or no relief. Even Thomas Linacre, the founder of the Royal College of Physicians in 1518, does not in his writings say a word about the disease. As the doctors failed to help the people, their common sense had to suffice them in their need. They decided to take no violent medicine, but to apply moderate heat; take little food and drink, and quietly wait for twenty-four hours—the crisis of the disorder. “Those who were attacked during the day, in order to avoid any chill, immediately went to bed in their clothes; and those who sickened by night did not rise from their beds in the morning; while all carefully avoided exposing to the air even a hand or foot.”[816] The five years preceding the outbreak of this epidemic had been unusually wet, and inundations had been frequent. It is probable that this was one of the causes which contributed to the unhealthy condition of the atmosphere. The disease partook of the character of rheumatic fever, with great disorder of the nervous system.[817] In addition to the profuse and injurious perspiration, oppressed respiration, extreme anxiety, nausea, and vomiting, indicating that the functions of the eighth pair of nerves were disturbed, were the general symptoms of the malady. A stupor and profound lethargy indicated cerebral disturbance, possibly from a morbid condition of the blood. TARANTISM. Tarantism was a disease somewhat akin to the dancing mania. Nicholas Perotti (1430-1480) first described it. It was believed to originate from the bite of the Apulian spider, called the _tarantula_, as it was named by the Romans. Those who were bitten, or who believed themselves to have been bitten, became melancholic and stupefied, but greatly sensible to the influence of music. As soon as they heard their favourite melodies, they sprang up and danced till they sank exhausted to the ground. Others became hysterical, and some even died in a paroxysm of tears or laughter. By the close of the fifteenth century Tarantism had spread beyond the boundaries of Apulia in which it originated, and many other cities and villages of Italy were afflicted with the mania. Thus when the spider made his appearance the merry notes of the Tarantella resounded as the only cure for its bite, or the mental poison received through the eye, and thus the _Tarantali_ cure became established as a popular festival.[818] * * * * * Quarantine, according to William Brownrigg, who wrote in 1771 a book on the plague, was first established by the Venetians in 1484. Dr. Mead was probably the source of this information.[819] * * * * * Theories connected with the origin of the soul have continued to occupy the attention of theologians, philosophers, and physicians from the time of Pythagoras to our own day. Up to the ninth century their speculations were entirely idle, when Theophilus made his discovery of the capillary vessels of the male organs—a discovery which was further developed when in the fifteenth century Mattheus de Gradibus first enunciated the idea that these organs and the ovaria of birds are homologous structures; and thus originated the knowledge of the germ cells known as the ova of De Graaf.[820] * * * * * The fame of the University of Oxford was so high in the early part of the fifteenth century (1420) that a MS. in the Bodleian, quoted by Anthony à Wood,[821] says that other universities were but little stars in comparison with this sun. “Other studies excel in some particular science, as Parys, in divinity; Bologna, law; Salerno, physick; and Toulouse, mathematics; but Oxford as a true well of wisdom doth goe beyond them in all these. The bright beams of its wisdom spread over the whole world.” The practice of medicine became daily more honourable. Holinshed says,[822] in his description of the people in the _Commonwealth of England_, that “Who soeur studieth the lawes of the realme, who so abideth in the vniuersitie giuing his mind to his booke, or professeth physicke and the liberall sciences—and can liue without manuell labour, and thereto is able and will beare the port, charge and countenance of a gentleman, he shall for monie haue a cote and armes bestowed vpon him by heralds—and reputed for a gentleman euer after.” Medicine was a flourishing study at Cambridge, especially at Merton College, in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries.[823] * * * * * The origin of syphilis in Europe has been the subject of much learned discussion. It appeared with such violence and frequency in the year 1490 in France, Italy, and Spain, that the scourge was considered to have only then been introduced into Europe from America. “Its enormous prevalence in modern times,” says Dr. Creighton,[824] “dates, without doubt, from the European libertinism of the latter part of the fifteenth century.” It is pretty certain that syphilis had existed in Europe from ancient times. What appeared with so much virulence and such wide distribution in 1490 was simply a redevelopment of the malady on a scale hitherto unknown.