THE LEPER IN ENGLAND
“_From the benefactions and possessions charitably bestowed upon the
hospital, the hunger, thirst and nakedness of those lepers, and other
wants and miseries with which they are incessantly afflicted . . .
may be relieved._”
(Foundation Charter of Sherburn.)
We now turn from leper-asylums to consider the leper himself—a sadly
familiar figure to the wayfaring man in the Middle Ages. He wears a
sombre gown and cape, tightly closed; a hood conceals his want of hair,
which is, however, betrayed by the absence of eyebrows and lashes; his
limbs are maimed and stunted so that he can but hobble or crawl; his
features are ulcerated and sunken; his staring eyes are unseeing or
unsightly; his wasted lips part, and a husky voice entreats help as he
“extends supplicating lazar arms with bell and clap-dish.”
* * * * *
At the outset it is necessary to state that inmates of lazar-houses
were not all true lepers. Persons termed _leprosi_, _infirmi_,
_elefantuosi_, _languidi_, _frères malades_, _meselles_, do not
necessarily signify lepers in a strict sense. Gervase of Canterbury,
writing about 1200, speaks of St. Oswald’s, Worcester, as intended
for “_Infirmi, item leprosi_”; and these words are used synonymously
in Pipe Rolls, charters, seals, etc. “Leprosy” was an elastic term as
commonly used. In the statutes of one hospital, [p049] the patriarch
Job was claimed as a fellow-sufferer—“who was so smitten with the
leprosy, that from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head there
was no soundness in him.” A _lazar_ was one “full of sores,” and any
person having an inveterate and loathsome skin-eruption might be
considered infected. Disfiguring and malignant disorders were common.
Victims of _scrofula_, _lepra_, _lupus_, _tuberculosis_, _erysipelas_
(or “St. Anthony’s fire”) and persons who had contracted disease
as the baneful result of a life stained with sin, would sometimes
take advantage of the provision made for lepers, for in extremity
of destitution this questionable benefit was not to be despised. In
foreign lands to-day, some are found not unwilling to join the infected
for the sake of food and shelter; we are told, for example, that the
Hawaiian Government provides so well for lepers that a difficulty
arises in preventing healthy people from taking up their abode in the
hospitals. On the other hand, it often happens that those who are
actually leprous refuse to join a segregation-camp.
No one, however, can deny that leprosy was once exceedingly prevalent,
and after weighing all that might be said to the contrary, Sir J.
Y. Simpson and Dr. George Newman were convinced that the disease
existent in England was for the most part true leprosy (_elephantiasis
Græcorum_).
1. PIONEERS OF CHARITY
One practical outcome of the religious revival of the twelfth century
was a movement of charity towards the outcast. The Lazarus whom Jesus
loved became linked in pious minds with that [p050] _Lazarus ulceribus
plenus_ neglected by men, but now “in Abraham’s bosom,” and the thought
took a firm hold of the heart and imagination. Abandoned by relatives,
loathed by neighbours, the famished leper was now literally fed with
crumbs of comfort from the rich man’s table.
The work of providing for “Christ’s poor,” begun by the great churchmen
Lanfranc and Gundulf, was carried into the realm of personal service by
Queen Maud (about 1101), the Abbot of Battle (before 1171) and Hugh,
Bishop of Lincoln (about 1186). Queen Maud is the brightest ornament
of the new movement. Like St. Francis of Assisi a century later,
she “adopted those means for grappling with the evil that none but
an enthusiast and a visionary would have taken.” Aelred of Rievaulx
relates how Prince David visited her and found the house full of
lepers, in the midst of whom stood the queen. She washed, dried and
even kissed their feet, telling her brother that in so doing she was
kissing the feet of the Eternal King. When she begged him to follow her
example, he withdrew smiling, afterwards confessing to Aelred:—“I was
sore afraid and answered that I could on no account endure it, for as
yet I did not know the Lord, nor had His spirit been revealed to me.”
Of Walter de Lucy, the chronicler of Battle Abbey writes:—
“He especially compassionated the forlorn condition of those
afflicted with leprosy and _elephantiasis_, whom he was so far from
shunning, that he frequently waited upon them in person, washing
their hands and feet, and, with the utmost cordiality, imprinting
upon them the soothing kisses of love and piety.”
St. Hugh used to visit in certain hospitals, possibly those at
Peterborough and Newark connected with the [p051] See or the Mallardry
at Lincoln.[33] He would even dwell among the lepers, eating with them
and ministering to them, saying that he was inspired by the example
of the Saviour and by His teaching concerning the beggar Lazarus. On
one occasion, in reply to a remonstrance from his Chancellor, he said
that these afflicted ones were the flowers of Paradise, pearls in the
coronet of the Eternal King.[34]
2. PUBLIC OPINION
These noble pioneers were doubtless important factors in moulding
public opinion. They may often have outstepped the bounds of prudence,
but, as one has observed, “an evil is removed only by putting it for
a time into strong relief, when it comes to be rightly dealt with and
so is gradually checked.” As long as possible the world ignored the
existence of leprosy. The thing was so dreadful that men shut their
eyes to it, until they were shamed into action by those who dared to
face the evil. The Canon of the Lateran Council of 1179 acknowledged
that unchristian selfishness had hitherto possessed men with regard to
lepers. We need not suppose that the heroism of those who ministered
to lepers was that which boldly faces a terrible risk, but it was
rather that which overcomes the strongest repulsion for hideous and
noisome objects. There is no hint in the language of the chroniclers of
encountering danger, but rather, expressions of horror that any should
hold intercourse with such loathsome creatures. The remonstrances of
Prince David and of William de Monte were not primarily on account of
contagion.—“What is it that thou doest, O my lady? [p052] surely if
the King knew this, he would not deign to kiss with his lips your mouth
thus polluted with the feet of lepers!” “When I saw Bishop Hugh touch
the livid face of the lepers, kiss their sightless eyes or eyeless
sockets, I shuddered with disgust.”—If St. Francis raised an objection
to inmates wandering outside their precincts, it was because people
could not endure the sight of them. The popular opinion regarding the
contagious nature of the disease developed strongly, however, towards
the close of the twelfth century. The Canon _De Leprosis_ (Rome, 1179;
Westminster, 1200) declares emphatically that lepers cannot dwell with
healthy men. Englishmen begin to act consistently with this conviction.
The Prior of Taunton (1174–85) separates a monk from the company of
the brethren “in fear of the danger of this illness”; and the Durham
chronicler mentions an infirmary for those “stricken with the contagion
of leprosy.”
3. CIVIL JURISDICTION
(a) _The Writ for Removal._—The right to expel lepers was acknowledged
before it was legally enforced. An entry upon the statute-book may be
merely the official recognition of an established custom. The fact that
where use and wont are sufficiently strong, law is unnecessary, is
illustrated to-day in Japan, where public opinion alone enforces the
separation of lepers. At length English civil law set its seal upon
the theory of infection by the writ _De Leproso Amovendo_, authorizing
the expulsion of lepers on account of manifest peril by contagion.
An early instance of removal occurs in the Curia Regis Rolls (1220).
It is mentioned that William, son of Nicholas Malesmeins, had been
consigned with the assent [p053] of his friends to a certain Maladria
in Bidelington, where he abode for two years. This was the leper-house
near Bramber, mentioned four years previously in a Close Roll as “the
hospital of the infirm of St. Mary Magdalene of Bidelington.”
Legislation on this subject was chiefly local. The Assizes of London
had proclaimed in 1276 that “no leper shall be in the city, nor come
there, nor make any stay there.” Edward III supplemented existing
measures by an urgent local edict for London and Middlesex. The royal
proclamation sets forth that many publicly dwell among the citizens,
being smitten with the taint of leprosy; these not only injure people
by the contagion of their polluted breath, but they even strive to
contaminate others by a loose and vicious life, resorting to houses of
ill-fame, “that so, to their own wretched solace, they may have the
more fellows in suffering.”[35] All persons proved leprous—citizens
or others, of whatever sex or condition—are to quit the city within
fifteen days, “and betake themselves to places in the country,
solitary, and notably distant from the city and suburbs.” This order,
sent to the mayor, was followed by a proclamation to the sheriff of
the county. Lepers are to abandon the highways and field-ways between
the city and Westminster, where several such persons sit and stay,
associating with whole men, to the manifest danger of passers-by.[36]
This social problem continued to vex municipal authorities. A
precept was issued (1369) “that no leper beg in the street for fear
of spreading infection.” The porters of the eight principal gates
of the city were sworn [p054] to refuse them admittance. (That
_barbers_—forerunners of the barber-chirurgeons—were included among
the gate-keepers in 1310 and 1375, was perhaps due to their supposed
capability of recognizing diseases.) If a leper tried to enter, he
should forfeit his horse or his outer garment, and if persisting, be
taken into custody. The foreman at “le loke” and an official at the
Hackney lazar-house were also bound to prevent their entry into the
city.
The “Customs of Bristol,” written down by the recorder in 1344, declare
“that in future no leper reside within the precincts of the town.”
Imprisonment was the penalty—a plan of doubtful wisdom. The measures
ordained by the burgesses of Berwick-on-Tweed were summary:—
“No leper shall come within the gates of the borough; and if one gets
in by chance, the serjeant shall put him out at once. If one wilfully
forces his way in, his clothes shall be taken off him and burnt, and
he shall be turned out naked. For we have already taken care that a
proper place for lepers shall be kept up outside the town, and that
alms shall be there given to them.”[37]
It was comparatively easy for the civic authorities to control the
ejection of lepers when the asylum was under their supervision, as
it frequently was. At Exeter, ecclesiastical leniency permitted a
continuance of the custom (which was already “ancient” in 1163)
of allowing lepers to circulate freely in the town. In 1244 the
bishop seems to have agreed with the mayor and corporation about the
inadvisability of the practice; and he resigned the guardianship of the
lazar-house, accepting in its stead that of St. John’s hospital. [p055]
Municipal documents record the expulsion of lepers. In Gloucester
(1273), Richard, Alice and Matilda gave trouble and would remain within
the town “to the great damage and prejudice of the inhabitants.” John
Mayn, after repeated warnings to provide for himself some dwelling
outside London, was sworn to depart forthwith and not return, on pain
of the pillory (1372). A Leet Roll among the records of Norwich states
that “Thomas Tytel Webstere is a leper, therefore he must go out of the
city” (1375). In the following instances, the infected were consigned
to hospitals. Margaret Taylor came before the keepers of Beverley in
the Gild Hall, and asked by way of charity permission to have a bed
in the lepers’ house outside Keldgate Bar, which request was granted
(1394). The town-clerk of Lydd makes an entry of ten shillings “Paied
for delyvere of Simone Reede unto the howse of Lazaris” (_circa_ 1460).
The manorial court sometimes dealt with such cases. That of the Bishop
of Ely at Littleport recorded (1321):—“The jurors say upon their oath
that Joan daughter of Geoffrey Whitring is leprous. Therefore be she
set apart.”[38]
The law evidently had no power to touch a leper unless he made himself
a source of public danger. No one interfered with him as long as he
remained in a quiet hiding-place, quitting it, perhaps, only at night.
Individuals, sheltered by the affection or self-interest of relatives,
might never come under the ban of the law: in the Norwich records, for
example, Isabella Lucas seems to have been allowed to remain at home
(1391). Judge Fitz-Herbert, commenting on the writ of removal, observes
[p056] that it lies where a leper is dwelling in a town, and will come
into the church or amongst his neighbors.[39]
English legislation was never severe regarding lepers. We may believe
that the tolerant spirit of a certain thirteenth-century Scottish canon
prevailed throughout Great Britain. Lepers, it was declared, might well
fulfil their parochial obligations, but “if they cannot be induced
to do so, let no coercion be employed, seeing that affliction should
not be accumulated upon the afflicted, but rather their misfortunes
commiserated.”[40] In France, however, upon one terrible occasion,
Philip V was guilty of the abominable cruelty of burning lepers on the
pretext that they had maliciously poisoned wells. Mezeray says:—“they
were burned alive in order that the fire might purify at once the
infection of the body and of the soul.” The report of this inhuman act
reached England and was recorded both in the Chronicle of Lanercost
(under date 1318) and also by John Capgrave, who says:—
“And in this same yere [1318] the Mysseles [lepers] thorow oute
Cristendam were slaundered that thei had mad couenaunt with Sarasines
for to poison alle Cristen men, to put uenym in wellis, and alle
maner uesseles that long to mannes use; of whech malice mony of hem
were conuicte, and brent, and many Jewes that gave hem councel and
comfort.”[41]
(b) _Property._—The legal status of the leper must now be examined.
When pronounced a leper in early days, a man lost not only his liberty,
but the right to inherit or bequeath property. A manuscript Norman
law-book [p057] declares “that the mezel cannot be heir to any one.”
In the days of Stephen, for example, Brien Fitz-Count was lord of
Wallingford and Abergavenny. “He had two sons, whom, being lepers, he
placed in the Priory of Bergavenny and gave lands and tithes there to
for their support,” bequeathing his property to other kinsmen. Again,
two women of the Fitz-Fulke family appeared in the King’s Court (1203)
in a dispute about property at Sutton in Kent: Avice urged that Mabel,
having a brother, had no claim—“but against this Mabel says that he
is a leper.”[42] Even a grant made by such a person was void. In 1204
King John committed the lands of William of Newmarch to an official who
should answer for them at the Exchequer, but “if he have given away
any of his lands after he fell sick of the leprosy, cause the same to
be restored to his barony.”[43] This illustrates Bracton’s statement
that “a leprous person who is placed out of the communion of mankind
cannot give . . . as he cannot ask,” and, again, “if the claimant be
a leper and so deformed that the sight of him is insupportable, and
such that he has been separated . . . [he] cannot plead or claim an
inheritance.”[44]
On the other hand, Lord Coke declares that “ideots, leapers &c. may
be heires,” and he comments thus upon Bracton and Britton:—“if these
ancient writers be understood of an appearance in person, I think
their opinions are good law; for [lepers] ought not to sue nor defend
in proper person, but by attorney.”[45] Possibly the Norman custom of
disinheritance prevailed in England at one time and then died out. The
case of Adam [p058] de Gaugy proves that in 1278 this Northumbrian
baron was not liable to forfeiture. He was excused, indeed, from
appearing in the presence of Edward I, but was directed to swear fealty
to an official. Although spoken of as his brother’s heir, Adam did not
long enjoy his property. He died the same year, childless, but leaving
a widow (_Eve_), and the barony passed to a kinsman.[46]
The Norman maxim that the leper “may possess the inheritance he had
before he became a leper” is illustrated by the story of the youthful
heir of Nicholas de Malesmeins. Having attained full age, he left the
hospital where he had been confined, appeared before his feudal lord,
did homage, made his payment, and entered his fief.[47]
4. ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION
Although leprosy was a penal offence, only laymen could be cited and
dealt with by the king, mayor or feudal lord. Clerks in holy orders
had to answer to their bishop. In the case of parochial clergy, the
diocesan was responsible for their suspension from office, as stated
by the Canon _De Leprosis_. Lucius III (1181–1185) decreed that they
must serve by coadjutors and wrote to the Bishop of Lincoln on this
subject.[48] The episcopal registers of Lincoln afterwards record
the case of the rector of Seyton (1310). Several leprous parish
priests are named in other registers, e.g. St. Neot, 1314 (Exeter),
Colyton, 1330 (Exeter), Castle Carrock, 1357 (Carlisle). In the latter
instance, the bishop having learned with sorrow that the rector was
infected and unable to [p059] administer the sacraments, cited him
to appear at Rose with a view to appointing a coadjutor.[49] It was
ordered by Clement III that when clergy were thus removed, they should
be supported from the fruits of their benefices. Sir Philip, the
leper-priest of St. Neot in Cornwall, was allowed two shillings a week,
besides twenty shillings a year for clothing. He was permitted to keep
the best room in his vicarage and the adjoining chambers, except the
hall. The rest of the house was partitioned off for the curate, the
door between them being walled up.[50]
5. EXAMINATION OF SUSPECTED PERSONS
The duty of reporting and examining cases fell to the clergy, doctors,
civil officers or a jury of discreet men. (Cf. Fig. 7.) A curiously
complicated lawsuit brought into the King’s Court in 1220 relates how a
certain man had custody of the children of Nicholas de Malesmeins. When
the eldest-born became a leper, his perplexed guardian took the young
man to the King’s Exchequer, and before the barons of the Exchequer he
was adjudged a leper, and consigned to a hospital. (See pp. 52, 58.)
[Illustration: 7. LEPER AND PHYSICIAN]
In ordinary cases, the leper would show himself to the parish priest
as the only scholar. It was the village priest who helped the stricken
maiden to enter “Badele Spital” near Darlington, and afterwards
attested her [p060] cure, as related by Reginald of Durham. (See p.
97.) The register of Bishop Bronescomb of Exeter declares that “it
belongs to the office of the priest to distinguish between one form of
leprosy and another.” It was the duty of the clergy to take cognizance
of cases, but it was not always politic to interfere. In 1433 the
parson of Sparham endeavoured to get a parishioner, John Folkard, to
withdraw from the company of other men because he was “gretely infect
with the sekeness of lepre.” The vicar advertised him to depart, for
“his sekenes was contagious and myght hurte moche people.” After much
disputing, John went off to Norwich and took an action for trespass
against the parson before the sheriffs. Whereupon the vicar had to
appeal in chancery.[51]
The writ of removal ordered the careful investigation of cases in the
presence of discreet and lawful men having the best knowledge of the
accused person and his disease. Probably the best was not very good,
for many judged by the outward appearance only. The Bishop of Lincoln,
directing the resignation of a clergyman (1310), says that he is
besprinkled with the spot of leprosy. The decree of 1346 condemns “all
those who are found infected with leprous spots” to be removed. Anthony
Fitz-Herbert, writing in 1534, points out that the writ is for those
“who appear to the sight of all men that they are lepers,” by their
voice, disfigurement and noisome condition.
In medical treatises, great stress was laid on the necessity of
investigation with pondering and meditation. The _Rosa Anglica_ of
John of Gaddesden (physician to Edward II) declares that “no one is
to be adjudged a leper, and separated from intercourse of mankind,
until [p061] the figure and form of the face is actually changed.” The
contemporary French doctor, Gordon, uses almost the same words; and,
repeating his precautions, observes that “lepers are at the present day
very injudiciously judged.” A later writer, Guy de Chauliac (_circa_
1363) says:—
“In the examination and judgement of lepers, there must be much
circumspection, because the injury is very great, whether we thus
submit to confinement those that ought not to be confined, or allow
lepers to mix with the people, seeing the disease is contagious and
infectious.”
Sir J. Simpson gives copious extracts from Guy’s _Chirurgia_, which has
also been translated into modern French (1890). Guy describes fully
the examination of a suspected person, giving in detail all possible
symptoms. It may here be observed that Bartholomew _Anglicus_, his
contemporary, enumerates among the causes predisposing to leprosy,
dwelling and oft talking with leprous men, marriage and heredity, evil
diet—e.g. rotten meat, measled hogs, flesh infected with poison, and
the biting of a venomous worm: “in these manners and in many other the
evil of _lepra_ breedeth in man’s body.” Guy advises the doctor to
inquire if the person under examination comes of tainted stock, if he
have conversed with lepers, etc. He must then consider and reconsider
the equivocal and unequivocal signs of disease. After a searching
investigation—not to be confined to one day—the patient must either
be set free (_absolvendus_) with a certificate, or separated from the
people and conducted to the lazar-house.
About the time that John of Gaddesden was professor of medicine at
Oxford (1307–1325), and was writing upon [p062] leprosy, “experienced
physicians” were summoned to examine a provincial magnate. The mayor
and bailiffs of royal Winchester had been over-zealous “under colour
of the king’s late order to cause lepers who were amongst the healthy
citizens to be expelled.” It was surely a bitter hour to Peter de
Nutle, late mayor of the grand old city, when his successor and former
colleagues hounded him out! But there was justice for one “falsely
accused”; and subsequently an order of redress was sent, not without
rebuke to the civic authorities for their malicious behaviour towards a
fellow-citizen:—
“as it appears, from the inspection and examination before our
council by the council and by physicians expert in the knowledge of
this disease, that the said Peter is whole and clean, and infected in
no part of his body.”
A few days later the sheriff of Hampshire was directed to make a
proclamation to the same effect, so that Peter might dwell as he was
wont unmolested.[52]
The royal mandate of 1346 reiterated the stipulation that men of
knowledge should inquire into suspected cases. It therefore seems
unlikely that a London baker ejected in 1372 was merely suffering
from an inveterate eczema, as has been suggested. Careless as were
the popular notions of disease, medical diagnosis was becoming more
exact; four kinds of leprosy were distinguished, of which “leonine” and
“elephantine” were the worst.
There is an interesting document extant concerning a certain woman who
lived at Brentwood in 1468. She was indicted by a Chancery warrant,
but acquitted on the [p063] authority of a medical certificate of
health. The neighbours of Johanna Nightingale petitioned against
her, complaining that she habitually mixed with them and refused to
retire to a solitary place, although “infected by the foul contact
of leprosy.” A writ was therefore issued by Edward IV commanding a
legal inquiry. Finally, Johanna appeared before a medical jury in the
presence of the Chancellor. They examined her person, touched and
handled her, made mature and diligent investigation, going through
over forty distinctive signs of disease. She was at length pronounced
“utterly free and untainted,” and the royal physicians were prepared to
demonstrate this in Chancery “by scientific process.”[53]
6. TREATMENT OF THE BODY
Alleviation was sometimes sought in medicinal waters. Here and there
the site of a hospital seems to have been selected on account of
its proximity to a healing spring, e.g. Harbledown, Burton Lazars,
Peterborough, Newark, and Nantwich. In various places there are springs
known as the Lepers’ Well, frequented by sufferers of bygone days.
Tradition ascribes to bathing some actual cures of “leprosy.” Bladud
the Briton, a prehistoric prince, was driven from home because he was a
leper. At length he discovered the hot springs of Bath, where instinct
had already taught diseased swine to wallow: Bladud, too, washed and
was clean. The virtue of the mineral waters, well known to the Romans,
was also appreciated by the Saxons; possibly the baths were frequented
by lepers [p064] from early days, for there was long distributed in
Bath “an ancient alms to the poor and leprous of the foundation of
Athelstan, Edgar and Ethelred.” A small bath was afterwards set apart
for their use, to which the infected flocked. Leland notes that the
place was “much frequentid of People diseasid with Lepre, Pokkes,
Scabbes, and great Aches,” who found relief. A story similar to that of
Bladud, but of later date, comes from the eastern counties: a certain
man, sorely afflicted with leprosy, was healed by a spring in Beccles,
near which in gratitude he built a hospital.
[Illustration: 8. ELIAS, LEPER MONK]
There was rivalry between the natural water of Bath and the
miraculous water of Canterbury; the latter consisted of a drop of St.
Thomas’ blood many times diluted from the well in the crypt of the
cathedral.[54] William of Canterbury, a prejudiced critic, is careful
to relate how a leper-monk of Reading, Elias by name, went with his
abbot’s approval to Bath desiring to ease his pain, and there sought
earnestly of the physicians whatever he was able to gather from
them. “He set his hope in the warmth of the sulphur and not in the
wonder-working martyr,” says William. After forty days in Bath, Elias
set out for Canterbury, but secretly, pretending to seek medicine in
London; because (adds the chronicler) the abbot honoured [p065] the
martyr less than he ought to have done, and might not have countenanced
the pilgrimage. On his way, Elias met returning pilgrims, who gave him
some of the water of St. Thomas (Fig. 8); he applied this externally
and internally and became well.[55] Lest any should doubt the miracle,
Benedict of Canterbury tells us that many who were especially skilled
in the art of medicine used to say that Elias was smitten with a
terrible leprosy, and he proceeds to detail the horrible symptoms. In
the end, however, William declares that he who had been so ulcerated
that he might have been called another Lazarus, now appeared pleasant
in countenance, as was plain to all who saw him. What the Bath doctors
and Bath waters could not do, that the miraculous help of St. Thomas
had achieved.
We see from the story of the monk Elias that the ministrations of the
physician and the use of medicine were sought by lepers. Bartholomew
says that the disease, although incurable “but by the help of God” when
once confirmed, “may be somewhat hid and let, that it destroy not so
soon”; and he gives instructions about diet, blood-letting, purgative
medicines, plasters and ointments. Efficacious too was (we are told)
the eating of a certain adder sod with leeks.
There is no information forthcoming as to the remedial treatment of
lepers in hospital. The only narrative we possess is Chatterton’s
lively description of St. Bartholomew’s, Bristol, the Roll of which he
professed to find; it satisfied Barrett, a surgeon, and a local, though
uncritical, historian. A father of the Austin Friary came to shrive the
lepers (for which he received ten marks) and to dress [p066] their
sores (for which he was given fifty marks) saying, “lette us cure both
spryte and bodye.” When barber-surgeons came for an operation—“whanne
some doughtie worke ys to bee donne on a Lazar”—friars attended “leste
hurte ande scathe bee done to the lepers.” The friars’ knowledge was
such that barber-surgeons were willing to attend “wythoute paye to
gayne knowleche of aylimentes and theyr trew curis.”
7. TREATMENT OF THE SPIRIT
Disease was sometimes regarded as an instrument of divine wrath, as
in the scriptural case of Gehazi. Thus Gilbert de Saunervill after
committing sacrilege was smitten with leprosy, whereupon he confessed
with tears that he merited the scourge of God. The popular view that
it was an expiation for sin is shown in the romance of Cresseid false
to her true knight. But except in signal cases of wrong-doing this
morbid idea was not prominent; and the phrase “struck by the secret
judgement of God” implies visitation rather than vengeance. Indeed,
the use of the expression “Christ’s martyrs” suggests that the leper’s
affliction was looked upon as a sacrifice—an attitude which illuminated
the mystery of pain. St. Hugh preached upon the blessedness of such
sufferers: they were in no wise under a curse, but were “beloved of God
as was Lazarus.”
Those responsible for the care of lepers long ago realized exactly what
is experienced by those who carry on the same extraordinarily difficult
work to-day, namely, that leprosy develops to a high degree what is
worst in man. Bodily torture, mental anguish, shattered nerves almost
amounting to insanity, render lepers wearisome [p067] and offensive
to themselves no less than to others. These causes, together with
the absence of the restraining influences of family life, make them
prone to rebellious conduct, irritability, ingratitude and other evil
habits. Hope was, and is, the one thing to transform such lives, else
intolerable in their wintry desolation. St. Hugh therefore bade lepers
look for the consummation of the promise:—“Who shall change our vile
body, that it may be fashioned like unto His glorious Body.”[56]
Alleviation of the agonized mind of the doomed victim was undertaken
first by the physician and afterwards by the priest. A recognized part
of the remedial treatment advocated by Guy was to comfort the heart.
His counsel shows that doctors endeavoured to act as physicians of the
soul, for they were to impress upon the afflicted person that this
suffering was for his spiritual salvation. The priest then fulfilled
his last duty towards his afflicted parishioner:—
“The priest . . . makes his way to the sick man’s home and addresses
him with comforting words, pointing out and proving that if he
blesses and praises God, and bears his sickness patiently, he may
have a sure and certain hope that though he be sick in body, he may
be whole in soul, and may receive the gift of eternal salvation.”
The affecting scene at the service which followed may be pictured from
the form in _Appendix A_. There was a certain tenderness mingled with
“the terrible ten commandments of man.” The priest endeavours to show
the leper that he is sharing in the afflictions of Christ. For [p068]
his consolation the verse of Isaiah is recited:—“Surely He hath borne
our griefs and carried our sorrows, yet did we esteem Him as a leper,
smitten of God and afflicted.” The same passage from the Vulgate is
quoted in the statutes for the lepers of St. Julian’s:—“among all
infirmities the disease of leprosy is more loathsome than any . . . yet
ought they not on that account to despair or murmur against God, but
rather to praise and glorify Him who was led to death as a leper.”
[Illustration: 9. A LEPER]
After separation the fate of the outcast is irrevocably sealed.
Remembering the exhortation, he must never frequent places of public
resort, nor eat and drink with the sound; he must not speak to them
unless they are on the windward side, nor may he touch infants or young
folk. Henceforth his signal is the clapper, by which he gives warning
of his approach and draws attention to his [p069] request. (Fig. 26.)
This instrument consisted of tablets of wood, attached at one end with
leather thongs, which made a loud click when shaken. In England, a
bell was often substituted for this dismal rattle. Stow and Holinshed
refer to the “clapping of dishes and ringing of bels” by the lazar.
The poor creature of shocking appearance shown in Fig. 9 holds in his
one remaining hand a bell. His piteous cry is “Sum good, my gentyll
mayster, for God sake.” This was the beggar’s common appeal: in an
_Early English Legendary_, a _mesel_ cries to St. Francis, “Sum good
for godes love.”
Compelled to leave home and friends, many a leper thus haunted the
highway—his only shelter a dilapidated hovel, his meagre fare the
scraps put into his dish. To others, the lines fell in more pleasant
places, for in the hospital pain and privation were softened by
kindness.
FOOTNOTES:
[33] See p. 180.
[34] Chron. and Mem. 37, _Magna Vita_, pp. 162–5.
[35] Riley, _Memorials of London_, 230.
[36] Close 1346 pt. i. m. 18 _d_, 14 _d_, and 1348 pt. i. m. 25 _d_.
[37] Toulmin Smith, _Gilds_, 241.
[38] Selden Soc., _Court Baron_, p. 134.
[39] _Natura Brevium_, ed. 1652 p. 584.
[40] Wilkins, _Concil. Mag._ i. 616.
[41] Chron. and Mem., 1. 186.
[42] Selden Soc., 3, No. 157.
[43] Rot. Litt. Claus. 6 John m. 21.
[44] Chron. and Mem., 70, i. 95; vi. 325.
[45] First Institutes, p. 8a., 135b.
[46] Inquisition, cf. Rot. Curia Scacc. Abb., i. 33.
[47] Curia Regis Rolls, 72, m. 18 _d_.
[48] _Conciliorum Omnium_, ed. 1567, III, 700 (cap. 4).
[49] Reg. Welton. Cited Vict. Co. Hist.
[50] Reg. Stapeldon, p. 342.
[51] P.R.O. Early Chancery Proceedings, Bundle 46, No. 158.
[52] Close 6 Edw. II, m. 21 _d_.
[53] Close Roll, Rymer, ed. 1710, ix. 365. Translated, Simpson, _Arch.
Essays_.
[54] Chron. and Mem., 67, i. 416.
[55] Id. ii. 242.
[56] Compare the title of a modern leper-house at Kumamoto in Kiushiu,
known as “The Hospital of the Resurrection of Hope”: and in Japanese
_Kwaishun Byōin_—“the coming again of spring.”
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