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Creeping into Homes 213
Friar Daw’s Reply, ostensibly the work of a Dominican, is a point by point rebuttal of the criticisms of the friars voiced by Jack Upland. e polemical character of these vernacular poems and prose is reminiscent of the sort of doctrinal disputes between Wyclites and orthodox academics that took place in Oxford and London (the Wyclites were just as hostile to friars as Richard Fitzralph, the archbishop of Armagh, had been). Fiona Somerset has argued that the Upland series might well have originated in exactly that scholastic milieu and points out that William Woodford OFM took the trouble to respond directly to the questions raised by Jack Upland, showing that such vernacular works were read and taken seriously in academic circles. What is more, many of Woodford’s arguments are similar to those addressed by the Carmelite Richard Maidstone to one John Ashwardby, supposedly a Wyclite, who delivered vernacular sermons against the friars in the mid-1380s.
55
ese debates are some distance removed in tone and subject from anonymous verses about the doings of friars and nuns, mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, as well as from Langland’s allegorical exploration of the friars, with reference to salvation and healing. All these forms of writing are linked together, however, by worries over how the friars exploited their special access to confessants and patients in the household, so characteristic of this late medieval period.
Conclusion: hypocrisy and healing
English friars were able to access the household to an extent other clergy could not. eir mission to confess and to heal, whether serving the nobility as retainers or paying calls on humbler establishments, provided opportunities to ‘creep into homes’ which aroused suspicion and envy. eir critics, whether other clergy or laymen, suspected these opportunities were exploited for nancial or sexual prot. Above all, it was the friars’ hypocrisy that came under attack. e sins the friars identied in their confessants were but a pretext for them
55
D. Lawton, ‘Lollardy and the Piers Plowman Tradition’, Modern Language Review
76 (1981), 780–93; C. Von Nolcken, ‘Piers Plowman, the Wyclites, and Pierce
the Plowman’s Creed’, Yearbook of Langland Studies 2 (1988), 71–102; e Piers
Plowman Tradition, ed. H. Barr (London, 1993); E. Doyle, ‘William Woodford,
O.F.M. (c. 1330–1400): His Life and Works, Together with a Study and Edition
of his “Responsiones contra Wiclevum et Lollardos”’, Franciscan Studies 43 (1983),
17–187; F. Somerset, Clerical Discourse and Lay Audience in Late Medieval Eng-
land (Cambridge, 1998), Chap. 5; K. Ghosh, e Wyclite Heresy: Authority and the
Interpretation of Texts (Cambridge, 2002). On Richard Maidstone OC, see ‘e
Debate between Maidstone and Ashwardby’, ed. V. Edden, Carmelus 34 (1987),
113–34, and Chapter 5 above.
214 The Medicine of the Friars in Medieval England
to indulge their own greed and sexual opportunism. Criticism of the friars in contemporary literary sources and popular song might be ribald and jocular, or satirical, or denunciatory, but it came back always to the charge of hypocrisy. e splendour of the churches of the friars, the large footprint of the friaries within English towns, and close relations of friars with the powerful, served only to emphasise the contrast between the foundational ideology of mendicancy and the protable realities of the friars’ transactions with their lay clients.
is chapter has also made a case study of two aspects of the treatment of friars in Piers Plowman by William Langland. e rst deals with the friar as patient. Langland’s poem is exceptional in the depth of its exploration of the physical and spiritual sickness of the emblematic friar, its command of the diagnostic language of contemporary medicine and its attention to the predicament of the confessor who cannot heal himself because he is unable to confess his own sins. e second focusses on the friar as healer. At the climax of the poem, Langland identies ‘Friar Flatterer’ (a false healer in the literal sense) as the agent who betrays the unity and safety of the English Church. At the same time, Langland suggests that if mendicant friars could only be relieved of the need to prot from their confessants, and consequently to atter them, the central failure at the heart of their healing mission to the laity might be removed. e medicine of the friars is fully realised as a central part of an allegory of the predicament of the English church.
7
e Legacy of Friars’ Medicine
hat legacy did the medicine of the friars leave in England? e
W
three centuries after the 1220s in which the friars and their houses were an integral part of the civic landscape in England. is disruption in which the personnel were dispersed, the remaining possessions of the friars seized and the very buildings taken over by private individuals or pulled down for stone to build elsewhere was catastrophic and nal. e libraries of books and the records kept in the muniments of the friaries were scattered, and only a few books remain testifying to their previous ownership by friars.1 Attempts under Queen Mary I to re-found friaries as part of the restoration of the Catholic faith came to nought. Of monastic foundations, those medieval hospitals which had developed a medical role were more likely to survive than other kinds of house (for example, St Bartholomew’s Hospital in London). e inrmaries of the friars, however, were not spared. It might appear at rst sight then that the medicine of the friars was swept away with the rest. But this is not the whole picture. Some medical manuscripts compiled and owned by friars did survive and found new secular users, even after the advance of print technology had seemed to make manuscripts themselves redundant. Print in fact also helped the medicine of the friars by giving widespread circulation to texts which might otherwise have been lost. In this way, it enabled access for readers who would never have been able to read them in the heyday of the friars.
the survival of signicant medical texts and manuscripts in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. e works of Roger Bacon and Henry Daniel found in manuscripts were prized by collectors both before and after the dissolution of the friaries. Most of these texts travelled not in the guise of historical relics of earlier ages but were valued for practical purposes and repackaged in print, as if they were the work of contemporary
dissolution of the friars’ houses in 1537–8 marks an end to the
is chapter explores the legacy of the friars in medicine. It considers
1
R. Sharpe, ‘Dissolution and Dispersion in Sixteenth-Century England: Under-
standing the Remains’, in How the Secularization of Religious Houses Transformed the Libraries of Europe, 16th–19th Centuries (Turnhout, 2022), pp. 39–66.
216 The Medicine of the Friars in Medieval England
secular authorities. e new medium of print made it possible for some texts by friars to nd new readerships, as happened in the case of omas Multon’s is is the myrour or glasse of helthe and Bartholomaeus Anglicus, On the Properties of ings. is chapter also explores how a purchaser of one of the surviving manuscripts of the Tabula medicine in Oxford in 1574, Simon Forman, made friars’ medicine central to his medical practice. He did not acknowledge or even know that this was the case. e manuscript in question was cited against him in attempts by the College of Physicians of London to drive Forman out of practice, though again in total ignorance of its origin. rough Forman’s personal charisma as a healer and through the detailed casebooks he kept of his practice, he in turn inuenced the medical practice of the Anglican priest Richard Napier. Between the two of them, they treated and documented thousands of cases in late sixteenth­and early seventeenth-century England, as has been revealed by the work of the Casebooks project.2 eir religion was not that of the friars, but their medicine contained much that would have seemed familiar to friars in the elds of astrology, alchemy and medical experimenta. Paradoxically it may be that it is through the surviving casebooks of Forman and Napier that we can best understand the kind of encounter between healer and patient that was characteristic of the friars and their clients.
But before getting to these questions of survival of ideas and practices into a post-mendicant era, it will be illuminating to take account of what was happening to friars’ medicine in England in the last century before the Reformation. We have already seen in the case of Eryk de Vedica (1477) in Chapter 1 that the purchase of medical services from friars could be licensed, and that a friary might go to law to claim fees owed. e developments I focus on in this chapter can be accounted for under two rubrics, both concerned with the spreading inuence of friars’ medicine. First, we need to consider the development in the fteenth century of an exchange of information between the friars and university practitioners of medicine. e Franciscans began to record the cures of well-known secular physicians in their own compilation, the Tabula medicine. Reciprocally, some of the most prestigious English doctors at court, trained at English and Italian universities, can be shown to have adapted the medicine of the friars for their own use in practice. Secondly, we need to consider the role of the friars in bringing medicine to a new lay readership. By extending their commitment to charitable translation of Latin medicine into English, and by providing gentry households with medical vade-mecums, the
2
e Casebooks of Simon Forman and Richard Napier, 1596–1634: a Digital Edition,
ed. L. Kassell, M. Hawkins, R. Ralley, J. Young, J. Edge, J. Y. Martin-Portugues and
N. Kaoukji, https://casebooks.lib.cam.ac.uk/, accessed 19 April 2023.
The Legacy of Friars’ Medicine 217
friars cultivated readers outside their own convents. is second development was given a sharper focus by the recurrent challenge of epidemic disease in the fteenth century, primarily of bubonic plague and the sweating sickness. e friars repurposed older plague texts to satisfy the urgent contemporary demand for advice to lay households in time of pestilence. ese developments, allied to print technology, ensured that friars’ medicine was already having an impact outside the friaries in the years before the dissolution. In fact, the dissolution does not mark a clean break in the history of friars’ medicine, as might at rst have been expected.
Physicians and the Tabula medicine (1416–25)
As we saw in Chapter 1, there are many references in the Tabula medicine to remedies proved by friars, mainly Franciscans but with a few Dominicans too. ere are also remedies attributed to university physicians. Many of these are not part of the original text but have been added in the spaces deliberately left blank in the early manuscripts for just such additions. Yet even in the original layer of the text, we meet with ‘magister John Malvern’, credited with a remedy for pain in the back under the heading Dorsum. Malvern, who died in 1422, was a successful royal physician based in London, previously a chaplain of Balliol College, Oxford, and possibly MD as well as a Doctor of eology.3 References to university-trained practitioners become more frequent in the material added to the text of the Tabula medicine. One manuscript, Cambridge, Jesus College, MS Q.G.12, has an astrological nativity in the endpapers dated 1428, suggesting that it was an early copy of the text. In the spaces between the original entries and in the margins of the manuscript are many additional remedies, expanding the original text considerably. Two prominent physicians are repeatedly named. e rst is omas Duncan, who incepted in medicine in February 1429, while a Fellow of Merton College, Oxford. Even before that, he was already physician to Edmund Mortimer, 4th earl of March, who was retained at court by both Henry IV and Henry V, and who died in Ireland in 1425. One of several remedies credited to magister omas Duncan in the Jesus College MS is a variant on the well-known laxative, the Pulvis Walteri.
e second physician whose name appears even more frequently than
Duncan’s attached to the added remedies is Gilbert Kymer. He became
4
3
C. Rawclie, ‘Malvern, John (d. 1422), physician’, ODNB, 23 September 2004, ac-
cessed 14 April 2023, https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/17910; Talbot and Ham­mond, Medical Practitioners, pp. 166–7.
4
Talbot and Hammond, Medical Practitioners, pp. 340–1 (omas Duncan).
218 The Medicine of the Friars in Medieval England
an Oxford MD about 1423, and it was as physician to Duke Humfrey of Gloucester that he built up his long clerical career (he died in 1463 as dean of Salisbury). In 1424, Kymer composed a regimen of health for Duke Humfrey; other writings by him on alchemy seem to have been lost. His role in alchemical research in response to the crisis in the health of King Henry VI was addressed in Chapter 4. But his inuence was felt beyond the royal court and the University of Oxford. Sometimes Kymer’s name appears in the added remedies in the Jesus College manuscript of the Tabula medicine as Gilbert Kymer, sometimes as G. K. or even as K., sometimes as the duke of Gloucester’s physician. He is credited amongst many other things with a powder for pestilence, and we are told that with ‘fetid pills’ he cured Duke Humfrey of paralysis. Whoever added the remedies attributed to omas Duncan and Gilbert Kymer in this manuscript was evidently familiar with the kinds of physic practised at court in the second quarter of the fteenth century and happy to credit these well-known physicians with successful cures based on their own remedies.
5
Conversely, eminent English physicians of the fteenth century were interested in the Tabula medicine, and the medicine of the friars began to appear in their writings and practice. We know that physicians owned or had access to copies of the Tabula medicine. Some blank folios used as endleaves to an Italian manuscript of Galen, owned by Roger Marchall MD, one of the richest London physicians, were used by him to copy three entries from the Tabula medicine. is extract is now part of Cambridge, Gonville & Caius, MS 98/50.6 Just as in the original text, Marchall left spaces for later additions. Another Tabula medicine manuscript seems to have been owned at one time by the Oxford physician John Cokkys, whose name is interpolated at two points in the manuscript (one of them a remedy for jaundice (Ictericia)).7 A century
5
P. M. Jones, ‘Mediating Collective Experience: The Tabula Medicine (1416–
1425) as a Handbook for Medical Practice’, in Between Text and Patient: The
Medical Enterprise in Medieval & Early Modern Europe, Micrologus’ Library
39, ed. F. E. Glaze and B. K. Nance (Florence, 2011), pp. 279–307 (pp. 287–
8); F. M. Getz, ‘Kymer, Gilbert (d. 1463), Dean of Salisbury and Physician’,
ODNB, 23 September 2004, accessed 14 April 2023, https://doi.org/10.1093/
ref:odnb/15820.
6
For Marchall as owner and annotator of a wealth of medical manuscripts, see
L. E. Voigts, ‘A Doctor and His Books: e Manuscripts of Roger Marchall
(d.1477)’, in New Science out of Old Books. Studies in Manuscripts and Early Print-
ed Books in Honour of A.I. Doyle, ed. R. Beadle and A. J. Piper (Aldershot, 1995),
pp. 249–314.
7
P. M. Jones, ‘Cokkys, John (d. 1475), Medical Practitioner’, ODNB, 23 September
2004, accessed 14 April 2023, https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/45761; Talbot and
The Legacy of Friars’ Medicine 219
later, this same manuscript was bought by the astrologer physician Simon Forman. A third manuscript, BL, MS Sloane 403, inserts many remedies attributed to William Hatteclye, MD, diplomat and royal physician to both Henry VI and Edward IV, who died in 1480.8 Clearly this Tabula medicine text was circulating amongst a cohort of physicians, educated at Oxford and Cambridge, and employed at court or by noble householders. For the physicians it was an accessible source of proven remedies to which their own favourite treatments could be added.
e best example of the way in which the Tabula medicine became a source of medical knowledge and inspiration to practice for physicians is aorded by John Argentine or Argentein (c. 1443–1508), a royal doctor in the reigns of Edward IV, Richard III and Henry VII, who ended his career as provost of King’s College, Cambridge. He began his medical studies as a fellow of King’s College, but later studied in Ferrara in 1473–6, where his main source of medical information seems to have been the Franciscan convent there. He copied extracts from the Tabula medicine into his personal notebook (now Bodl., MS Ashmole 1437) around 1476–7. He began this book by copying out long extracts from pseudo-Lull De secretis nature (see Chapter 4, pp. 135–6), a foundational work on the distilling of quintessences for medicinal purposes. He continued by going through the Tabula medicine systematically extracting the remedies that interested him. He copied the illness headings from Tabula medicine on separate pages of his own book and below them copied selected remedies from the text. For instance, under the heading Vulnus (wound), Argentine copied out Friar Robert Winstanton’s long recipe for the distillation of human blood to be used as a healing agent. In the space left on each page, he added remedies of his own or derived from other sources, very much in the spirit of the original Tabula medicine manuscripts. e notebook would have provided remedies he could use for his own practice. He may well have treated Prince Arthur (1486–1502), eldest son of Henry VII, who was Argentine’s patient until his early death, with remedies from taken from this notebook (and thus ultimately from the Tabula medicine). Amongst his other manuscripts, Argentine also kept a book of astronomy to which he added his own astrological notes, now Gloucester Cathedral Library, MS 21. It seems that Argentine’s medical practice was heavily inuenced by his astrological and alchemical interests,
Hammond, Medical Practitioners, pp. 134–6.
8
R. Horrox, ‘Hatteclye, William (d. 1480), Physician and Diplomat’, ODNB, 23
September 2004, accessed 14 April 2023; https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/12603;
Talbot and Hammond, Medical Practitioners, pp. 398–9.
220 The Medicine of the Friars in Medieval England
and both these interests were stimulated by his contact with friars in Italy, as much by his teacher at King’s College, William Hatteclye.
9
At a humbler level, there is evidence that the Tabula medicine was known to the West Country healer omas Fayreford. Fayreford kept a medical commonplace book, organised separately under medical and surgical headings, very much like Argentein’s, though not so closely modelled on the alphabetical order of illnesses as the Tabula medicine and Argentein’s book. Under one heading Pedes (feet), Fayreford does make explicit reference to the Tabula medicine, showing that it was one of his many sources for remedies. He attributes the text of the Tabula medicine to the Franciscans. At another place Fayreford says that an ointment for ssures in hands and feet, which he calls ‘a better remedy’, comes from a text by Franciscans.10 Fayreford had also been to Oxford (though not pursuing a medical degree it seems) and knew some of the local medical authorities there. e fruits of his medical learning as applied to practice were a collection of experimenta and charms, assembled from practical medical texts and surgeries, word of mouth recommendation from his own patients and other practitioners, and textual collections of secrets like those of the friars.
11
Heirs and annotators of Henry Daniel
Both of Henry Daniel’s works, the Liber uricrisiarum and the Herbal, were refashioned by the author. In the case of the Liber uricrisiarum, this gave rise to so-called alpha and beta versions, but also manuscripts showing evidence of dierent combinations of the two versions.12 e Herbal is found in two manuscripts representing dierent ways of organising the text. ere is then no standard authorial version of either of Daniel’s works. Once these works began to circulate in the fteenth century, short excerpts of the Liber uricrisiarum are found inserted into medical miscellanies. Conversely, the longer versions of the Liber uricrisiarum attracted supplementary material in
9
For more on John Argentein, his manuscripts and his cures, see Jones, ‘Alchemical’;
P. M. Jones, ‘Argentine, John (c. 1443–1508), Physician and College Head’, ODNB,
23 September 2004, accessed 14 April 2023, https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/642;
Jones, ‘Mediating’, pp. 300–1; D. E. Rhodes, John Argentine: Provost of King’s: His
Life and his Library (Amsterdam, 1967).
10
BL, MS Harley 2558, fol. 148v: contra ssuras manuum et pedum ut dicunt fratres
minores.
11
P. M. Jones, ‘Harley MS 2558: A Fifteenth-Century Medical Commonplace Book’,
in Manuscript Sources of Medieval Medicine: A Book of Essays, ed. M. M. Schleissner
(New York, 1995), pp. 35–54; Jones, ‘omas Fayreford’, pp. 156–83.
12
Harvey, ‘Textual Layers’, pp. 87–107.
The Legacy of Friars’ Medicine 221
Latin and English, in prose and verse. Short astro-calendric additions were popular, as well as texts on doctor-patient interactions, herbal terminology, bloodletting and plague. e intention seems to have been to make the text more useful as a compendious guide to practical medicine, and usefulness was also promoted in the case of BL, MS Egerton 1624, by the addition of a detailed index. Supplementing or reorganising the text in dierent ways did not end in the fteenth century: a sixteenth-century hand in BL, MS Sloane 1721, adds material on urine colours but also abridges selected parts and modernises the language of Daniel’s text. Abridgement is the most characteristic adaptation of Daniel’s lengthy text. ree complete copies survive of a seventeen-chapter abridgement (about a tenth of the alpha version), which may be the earliest such adaptation. A certain Friar Narborough, probably a Franciscan, was responsible for the so-called ‘Book of Narborough’ in New Haven, Yale Medical School, Cushing-Whitney Library, MS 45, dated internally to 1442 and written in English. e most signicant change in this version of the Liber uricrisiarum is the addition of a fourth book, Narborough’s ‘Passionary’, a practica in head-to-toe order. None of this remedy material is found in Henry Daniel’s text. Narborough also moves material around within the three books on urines and reduces Daniel’s prolixity. e most inuential of all the versions of the Liber
uricrisiarum, because it was the most widely read, is that found printed as e Iudycyall of Vryns ( Judgement of urines), printed twice in 1527.13 e
reviser of the text has removed many of the longer digressions and generally updated the language of the original. e result focusses more on uroscopy than on tangential subjects, and in language that would be more familiar to a sixteenth-century reader.
14
In the case of Daniel’s Herbal, the entry for Anthus/antha or rosemary includes a short treatise which achieved considerable popularity in fteenth­century England as an independent text. In BL, MS Additional 27329, the treatise is inserted within Daniel’s entry for rosemary:
Here beginneth þe litil boke of þe vertues of rosemaryn & norsching þerof,
qwich litil book þe scole of Salerne wrote & sent to þe duchesse of Henaud,
& sche sent þe copie to hir dogther, Quene of Angelond (Here begins
the little book of the virtues of rosemary and its cultivation; the school of
Salerno wrote and sent it to the Duchess of Hainault, and she sent a copy
to her daughter Queen (Philippa) of England)
13
STC 2, 14836 and 14836.3.
14
is account is based entirely on Tavormina, ‘Heirs’, pp. 108–32.
15
BL, MS Additional 27329, fols. 16r–81r.
15
222 The Medicine of the Friars in Medieval England
is claim about the origin of the treatise is plausible as an account of how the treatise (and rosemary itself) might have reached England, even if such name-dropping was a frequent way of promoting an instructional text. Although the Latin original has not been identied, it must have contained just the kind of medical herbal information that Daniel would have wanted to translate and include in his Herbal. ere are a wide range of medical uses claimed for rosemary, and it is also said to keep the machinations of devils and spirits at bay. e same information about the origin of the treatise on rosemary is found in the colophon of an independently circulating version of the treatise identied in twenty-one manuscripts. ere was also a similar treatise in verse on rosemary, most likely again based on Daniel, and itself preserved in seven manuscripts. e Herbal itself only exists in two manuscripts but we can see that the rosemary treatise ‘escaped’ into a much wider circulation. Judging from the frequent appearances of recipes using rosemary in fteenth-century remedy books, and its high reputation as a cure­all, Daniel’s treatise was widely read and used. Somewhat surprisingly neither prose nor verse texts of Daniel found their way into print. is was probably because a dierent treatise on rosemary began to circulate in England in both Latin and Middle English soon after Daniel’s translation, and this short and simpler text came to eclipse Daniel’s version in both manuscript and print by the sixteenth century.
16
Many surviving Henry Daniel manuscripts show signs of annotation by owners. e Henry Daniel website yields some valuable information about the varieties of annotation.17 CUL, MS Gg.3.29 appears to have been owned sequentially by two sixteenth-century apothecaries, both named David Harris, who lived on the ‘Bridge at Bristol’ and practised medicine there, as well as collecting medical books as collateral from Portuguese and Spanish physicians who needed to borrow money. Gloucester, Cathedral MS 19 was owned in the seventeenth century by another father and son, both named Henry Fowler. Although the younger Fowler became a physician, whereas his father was the Rector of Minchinhampton, it is the father who has left
16
J. H. Harvey, ‘Mediaeval Plantsmanship in England: e Culture of Rosemary’,
Garden History 1 (1972), 14–21; M. Mäkinen, ‘Henry Daniel’s Rosemary in MS
X.90 of the Royal Library, Stockholm’, Neuphilologische Mitteilungen 103 (2002),
305–27; G. R. Keiser, ‘Rosemary: Not Just for Remembrance’, in Health and Heal-
ing from the Medieval Garden, ed. A. Touwaide and P. Dendle (Woodbridge, 2008),
pp. 180–204.
17
See Henry Daniel Project, https://henrydaniel.utoronto.ca/urines/audience/#Late_
Medieval_and_Early_Modern_Audiences/, accessed 19 April 2023; Tavormina,
‘Heirs’, p. 126, n. 3.