It is sometimes a little difficult for casual students of the time to

understand the marvellous reputation acquired by this medieval

physician. It should not be, however, when we recall the enthusiastic

reception and procession of welcome accorded to Cimabue's Madonna, and

the almost universal acclaim of the greatness of Dante's work, even in

his own time. In something of that same spirit Bologna came to

appreciate Taddeo, as he is familiarly known, looked upon him as a

benefactor of the community, and voted to relieve him of the burden of

paying taxes. He came to be considered as a public institution, whose

presence was a blessing to his fellow citizens, and whose goodness to

them should be recognized in this public way. One is not surprised to

hear Villani, the well-known contemporary historian, speak of him as the

greatest physician in Christendom.

The feelings of the citizens of Bologna, it may well be confessed, were

not entirely unselfish, or due solely to the desire to encourage a great

scientific genius. Few men of his generation had done more for the city

in a material way quite apart from whatever benefits he conferred upon

the health of its citizens than Dr. Taddeo. It was he who organized

medical teaching in the city on such a plane that it attracted students

from all over the world. Bologna had had a great law school before this,

founded by Irnerius, to which students had come from all over the world.

With the advent of Taddeo from Florence, and his success as a medical

practitioner, there began to flock to his lectures many students who

spread his fame far and wide. The city council could scarcely do less

than grant the same privileges to the medical students and teachers of

Taddeo's school as they had previously accorded to the faculty of law

and its students. The city council recognized quite as clearly as any

board of aldermen in the modern time how much, even of material benefit,

a great university was to the building up of a city, though their

motives were probably much higher than that, and their enlightened

policy had its reward in the rapid growth of Bologna until, very

probably at the end of the thirteenth century, it had more students than

any university of the modern time. The number was not less than fifteen

thousand, and may have been twenty thousand.

To this great university success Taddeo and his medical school

contributed not a little. The especially attractive feature of his

teaching seems to have been its eminent practicalness. He himself had

made an immense success of the practice of medicine, and accumulated a

great fortune, so much so that Dante, in his "Paradiso," when he wishes

to find a figure that would represent exactly the opposite to what St.

Dominic, the founder of the Dominicans, did for the love of wisdom and

humanity, he takes that of Taddeo, who had accomplished so much for

personal reputation and wealth.

This might easily lead to the impression that Taddeo's teaching was

unscientific, or merely empiric, or that he himself was a narrow-minded

maker of money, intent only on his immediate influence, and hampered by

exclusive devotion to practical medicine. Nothing could be farther from

the truth than any such impression. Taddeo was not only the head of a

great medical school, a great teacher whom his students almost

worshipped, a physician to whom patients flocked because of his

marvellous success, a fine citizen of a great city, whom his fellow

citizens honored, but he was a broad-minded scholar, a philosopher, and

even an author in branches apart from medicine.

In that older time it was the custom to combine the study of philosophy

and medicine. For centuries after that period in Italy it was the custom

for men to take both degrees, the doctorate in philosophy and in

medicine at the same time. Indeed, most of those whose work has made

them famous, down to and including Galvani, did so. Taddeo wrote

commentaries on the works of Hippocrates and Galen, but he also

translated the ethics of Aristotle, and did much to make the learning of

the Arabs easily available for his students. His was a broad, liberal

scholarship. Dr. Lewis Pilcher, in his article on "The Mondino

Myth,"[14] does not hesitate to say that "to the spirit which, from his

professorial chair, Taddeo infused into the teaching and study of

medicine undoubtedly is due the high position which for many generations

thereafter the school of Bologna continued to maintain as a centre of

medical teaching."

Of course, erudition had its revenge, and carried Taddeo too far. The

difficult thing in human nature is to stay in the mean and avoid

exaggeration. His methods of illustrating medical truths from many

literary and philosophical sources often caused the kernel of

observation to be hidden beneath a blanket of speculation or, at least,

to be concealed to a great extent. Even the Germans, who have insisted

most on this unfortunate tendency of Taddeo, have been compelled to

confess that there is much that is valuable in what he accomplished, and

that even his modes of expression were not without a certain vivacity

which attracted attention and doubtless added materially to his success

as a teacher. Pagel, in Puschmann's "Handbuch," says: "It cannot be

denied [this is just after he has quoted a passage of Taddeo with regard

to dreams] that Taddeo's expressions have a certain liveliness all their

own that gives us some idea why he was looked upon as so good a teacher,

a teacher who, as we know now, also gave instruction by the bedside of

patients." Pagel adds, "Taddeo's greatest merit and his highest

significance in medical education consist in the fact that a great many

(_zahlreiche_) physicians followed directly in his footsteps and were

counted as his pupils. They were all men, as we know them, who as

writers and practitioners of medicine succeeded in going far beyond the

level of mediocrity in what they accomplished."

This was the teacher who most influenced young Mondino when he came to

the University of Bologna, for it seems not unlikely that as a medical

student he was actually the pupil of Taddeo, then in a vigorous old age.

If not, he was at least brought under the direct influence of the

teaching tradition created during more than thirty years by that

wonderful old man. Knowing what we do of Taddeo it is not surprising

that his pupil should have accomplished work that was to influence

succeeding generations more than any other of that wonderful thirteenth

century. Dr. Pilcher in the article on "The Mondino Myth," so often

placed under contribution in this sketch, says that "It needs no great

stretch of the imagination to picture somewhat of the effect that

contact with such a man as Taddeo di Alderotto[15] might have, in

molding the character of his young neighbor and pupil, the chemist's

son, who a few years later, by his devotion to the study of human

anatomy, was to re-establish the practical pursuit of study on the

human cadaver as the common privilege of the skilled physician, and was

to engrave his own name deeply on the records of medicine."

Under this worthy compatriot and contemporary of the great Florentines,

Mondino was inspired to be the teacher that did so much for Bologna.

Until recent years it has usually been the custom to give too much

significance to the work of the men whose names stand out most

prominently in the early history of departments of the intellectual

life. Mondino's reputation has shared in this exaggerative tendency to

some extent, hence the necessity for realizing what was accomplished

before his time and the fact that he only stands as the culmination of a

progressive period. Carlyle spoke of Dante as the man in whom "ten

silent centuries found a voice." The centuries, however, were only

silent because the moderns did not know how to listen to their message.

We know now that every country in Europe had a great contributor to

literature in the century before Dante. The Cid, the Arthur Legends, the

Nibelungen, the Troubadours, naturally led up to Dante. He was only the

culmination of a great period of literature. We know now that men had

worked in art before Cimabue and Giotto, and had done impressive work

that made for the progress of art. These names, however, have come to

represent in many minds the sort of solitary phenomena that Dante has

seemed sometimes even to scholars.

Because Mondino did such good work in medical teaching it is sometimes

declared, even in rather serious histories, that he was the first to

accomplish anything in his department, and that before his time there is

a blank. Some historians, for instance, have insisted that Mondino was

the first to do human dissections, and that he did at most but two or

three. Only those who are unacquainted with the magnificent development

of surgery that took place during the preceding century, the evidence

for which is so abundantly given in modern historians of medicine and

especially in Gurlt's great work on the history of surgery, from which

we have quoted enough to give a good idea of the extent to which the

movement went, are likely to accept any such declaration. There could

not have been all that successful surgery without much dissection not

only of animals but also of human bodies. The teaching of dissection was

not regularly organized until Mondino's time, but it seems very clear

that even he must have dissected many more bodies than the number

usually attributed to him. Professor Lewis Stephen Pilcher of Brooklyn,

who made a special study of Mondino traditions in Bologna itself, and

collected some of the early editions of his books, feels so acutely the

absurdity of the ordinarily accepted tradition in this matter, that he

has written a paper on the subject bearing the suggestive title, "The

Mondino Myth." He says:[16]

"We are accustomed to think of the practice of dissection as

having been re-created by Mondino, and at once fully

developed, springing into acceptance. The year 1315 is the

generally accepted date for the first public anatomical

demonstration upon a human body made by Mondino, and yet it is

true that among the laws promulgated by Frederick II, more

than seventy-five years before (A.D. 1231), was included a

decree that a human body should be dissected at Salernum at

least once in five years in the presence of the assembled

physicians and surgeons of the kingdom, and that in the

regulations established for admission to the practice of

medicine and surgery in the kingdom it was decreed that no

surgeon should be admitted to practise unless he should bring

testimonials from the masters teaching in the medical faculty,

that he was 'learned in the anatomy of human bodies, and had

become perfect in that part of medicine without which neither

incisions could safely be made nor fractures cured.'

"Salernum was notable in its legalization of the dissection of

human bodies before the first public work of Mondino, for,

according to a document of the Maggiore Consiglio of Venice of

1308, it appears that there was a college of medicine at

Venice which was even then authorized to dissect a body every

year. Common experience tells us that the embodiment of such

regulations into formal law would occur only after a

considerable preceding period of discussion, and in this

particular field of clandestine practice. It is too much to

ask us to believe that in all this period, from the date of

the promulgation of Frederick's decree of 1231 to the first

public demonstration by Mondino, at Bologna in 1315, the

decree had been a dead letter and no human body had been

anatomized. It is true there is not, as far as I am aware, any

record of any such work, and commentators and historians of a

later date have, without exception, accepted the view that

none was done, and thereby heightened the halo assigned to

Mondino as the one who ushered in a new era. Such a view seems

to me to be incredible. Be that as it may, it is undeniable

that at the beginning of the 14th century the idea of

dissecting the human body was not a novel one; the importance

of a knowledge of the intimate structure of the body had

already been appreciated by divers ruling bodies, and specific

regulations prescribing its practice had been enacted. It is

more reasonable to believe that in the era immediately

preceding that of Mondino human bodies were being opened and

after a fashion anatomized. All that we know of the work of

Mondino suggests that it was not a new enterprise in which he

was a pioneer, but rather that he brought to an old practice a

new enthusiasm and better methods, which, caught on the rising

wave of interest in medical teaching at Bologna, and preserved

by his own energy as a writer in the first original systematic

treatise written since the time of Galen, created for him in

subsequent uncritical times the reputation of being the

Restorer of the practice of anatomizing the human body, the

first one to demonstrate and teach such knowledge since the

time of the Ptolemaic anatomists, Erasistratus and Herophilus.

"The changes have been rung by medical historians upon a

casual reference in Mondino's chapter on the uterus to the

bodies of two women and one sow which he had dissected, as if

these were the first and the only cadavers dissected by him.

The context involves no such construction. He is enforcing a

statement that the size of the uterus may vary, and to

illustrate it remarks that 'a woman whom I anatomized in the

month of January last year, viz., 1315 Anno Christi, had a

larger uterus than one whom I anatomized in the month of March

of the same year.' And further, he says that 'the uterus of a

sow which I dissected in 1316 (the year in which he was

writing) was a hundred times greater than any I have seen in

the human female, for she was pregnant and contained thirteen

pigs.' These happen to be the only reference to specific

bodies that he makes in his treatise. But it is a far cry to

wring out of these references the conclusion that these are

the only dissections he made. It is quite true that if we

incline to enshroud his work in a cloud of mystery and to

figure it as an unprecedented awe-inspiring feature to break

down the prejudices of the ages, it is easy to think of him as

having timidly profaned the human body by his anatomizing zeal

in but one or two instances. His own language, however,

throughout his book is that of a man who was familiar with the

differing conditions of the organs found in many different

bodies; a man who was habitually dissecting."

(Quotations from the work of Mundinus showing his familiarity

with dissections. The leaf and line references are to the

Dryander edition, Marburg, 1541.)

"I do not consider separately the anatomy of component parts,

because their anatomy does not appear clearly in the fresh

subject, but rather in those macerated in water." (Leaf 2,

lines 8-13.)

"... these differences are more noticeable in the cooked or

perfectly dried body, and so you need not be concerned about

them, and perhaps I will make an anatomy upon such a one at

another time and will write what I shall observe with my own

senses, as I have proposed from the beginning." (Leaf 60,

lines 14-17.)

"What the members are to which these nerves come cannot well

be seen in such a dissection as this, but it should be

liquefied with rain water, and this is not contemplated in the

present body." (Leaf 60, lines 31-33.)

"After the veins you will note many muscles and many large and

strong cords, the complete anatomy of which you will not

endeavor to find in such a body but in a body dried in the sun

for three years, as I have demonstrated at another time; I

also declared completely their number, and wrote the anatomy

of the muscles of the arms, hands, and feet in a lecture which

I gave over the first, second, third, and fourth subjects."

(Leaf 61, lines 1-7.)

Very probably the best evidence that we have of the comparative

frequency at least of dissection at this time is to be found in the

records of a trial for body-snatching that occurred in Bologna. The

details would remind one very much of what we know of the difficulties

with regard to dissection in America a couple of generations ago, when

no bodies were provided by law for dissection purposes. In the course of

some studies for the history of the New York State Medical Society (New

York, 1906) I found that nearly every one of the first half dozen

presidents of the New York Academy of Medicine, which is not much more

than sixty years old, had had body-snatching experiences when they were

younger. Dr. Samuel Francis, the medico-historical writer, tells of a

personal expedition across the ferry in the winter time, bringing a body

from a Long Island graveyard. In order to avoid the constables on the

Long Island side and the police on the New York side, because there had

been a number of cases of body-snatching recently and the authorities

were on the lookout, the corpse was placed sitting beside the physician

who drove the wagon, with a cloak wrapped around it, as if it were a

living person specially protected against the cold. Similar experiences

were not unusual. The lack of bodies for dissection is sometimes

attributed to religious scruples, but they have very little to do with

it, as at all times men have refused to allow the bodies of their

friends to be treated as anatomical material. This is the natural

feeling of abhorrence and not at all religious. It is only when there

are many unclaimed bodies of strangers and the poor, as happens in large

cities, that there can be an abundance of anatomical material.

The details of this body-snatching case are strangely familiar to those

who know the history of similar cases before the middle of the

nineteenth century. The case occurred in 1319 in Bologna, just four

years after Mondino's public dissections. Four students were involved in

the charge of body-snatching, all of them from outside the city of

Bologna itself, three from Milan and one from Piacenza. In modern

experience, too, as a rule, students from outside of the town where the

medical college was situated, were always a little readier than natives

to violate graveyards. These four students were accused of having gone

at night to the Cemetery of St. Barnabas, outside the gate of San

Felice,--suburban graveyards were usually the scene of such

exploits,--and to have dug up the body of a certain criminal named

Pasino, who had been hanged a few days before. They carried the body to

the school in the Parish of San Salvatore, where Alberto Zancari was

teaching. The resurrection had been accomplished without witnesses, but

there were several witnesses who testified that they recognized the body

of Pasino in the school and students occupied with its dissection. If

evidence for the zeal of the medical students of that time for

dissection were needed, surely we have it in the testimony at this

trial. At a time when body-snatching has become a criminal offence

usually there have been many repeated occurrences of it before the

parties are brought to trial, so that it seems not unlikely that a good

many dissections of illegally secured bodies were being done at Bologna

at this time.

We know of a regulation of the University in force at this time, which

required the teachers at the University to do an anatomy or dissection

for students if they secured a body for that purpose. The students seem

to have used all sorts of influence, political, monetary, diplomatic,

and ecclesiastical, in order to secure the bodies of criminals.

Sometimes when they failed in their purpose they waited until after

burial and then took the body without leave. When we recall the awfully

deterrent condition in which bodies must have been that were thus

provided for dissecting purposes, it is easy to understand that the

enthusiasm of the students for dissection must have been at a very high

pitch. Certainly it was far higher than at the present day, when, in

spite of the fact that our dissecting-rooms have very few of the

old-time dangers and unpleasantnesses, dissection is only practised with

assiduity if special care is exercised in requiring attendance and

superintending the work of the department.

In my book on "The Popes and Science" I have gathered the traditions

relating to Mondino's assistants in the chair of anatomy at Bologna.

They furnish abundant evidence of the fact that dissections, far from

being uncommon, must have been not at all infrequent at the north

Italian universities at this time. Curiously enough, one of these

assistants was a young woman who, as was not infrequently the custom at

this time in the Italian universities, was matriculated as a student at

Bologna. She took up first philosophy, and afterwards anatomy, under

Mondino. While it is not generally realized, co-education was quite

common at the Italian universities of the thirteenth and fourteenth

centuries, and at no time since the foundation of the universities has a

century passed in Italy without distinguished women occupying

professors' chairs at some of the Italian universities. This young

woman, Alessandra Giliani, of Persiceto, a country district not far from

Bologna, took up the study of anatomy with ardor and, strange as it may

appear, became especially enthusiastic about dissection. She became so

skilful that she was made the prosector of anatomy, that is, one who

prepares bodies for demonstration by the professors.

According to the "Cronaca Persicetana," quoted by Medici in his "History

of the Anatomical School at Bologna":

"She became most valuable to Mondino because she would cleanse most

skilfully the smallest vein, the arteries, all ramifications of the

vessels, without lacerating or dividing them, and to prepare them for

demonstration she would fill them with various colored liquids, which,

after having been driven into the vessels, would harden without

destroying the vessels. Again, she would paint these same vessels to

their minute branches so perfectly and color them so naturally that,

added to the wonderful explanations and teachings of the master, they

brought him great fame and credit." The whole passage shows a wonderful

anticipation of our most modern methods--injection, painting,

hardening--of making anatomical preparations for class and demonstration

purposes.

Some of the details of the story have been doubted, but her memorial

tablet, erected at the time of her death in the Church of San Pietro e

Marcellino of the Hospital of Santa Maria de Mareto, gives all the

important facts, and tells the story of the grief of her fiance, who was

himself Mondino's other assistant.[17] This was Otto Agenius, who had

made for himself a name as an assistant to the chair of anatomy in

Bologna, and of whom there were great hopes entertained because he had

already shown signs of genius as an investigator in anatomy. These hopes

were destined to grievous disappointment, however, for Otto died

suddenly, before he had reached his thirtieth year. The fact that both

these assistants of Mondino died young and suddenly, would seem to point

to the fact that probably dissection wounds in those early days proved

even more fatal than they occasionally did a century or more ago, when

the proper precautions against them were not so well understood. The

death of Mondino's two prosectors in early years would seem to hint at

some such unfortunate occurrence.

As regards the evidence of what the young man had accomplished before

his untimely death, probably the following quotation, which Medici has

taken from one of the old chroniclers, will give the best idea:

"What advantage indeed might not Bologna have had from Otto

Agenius Lustrulanus, whom Mondino had used as an assiduous

prosector, if he had not been taken away by a swift and

lamentable death before he had completed the sixth lustrum of

his life!"

Old-Time Makers of Medicine The Story of The Students And Teachers of the Sciences Related to Medicine During the Middle Ages · 第 14 / 31 段