(i) PERSONS MIRACULOUSLY CURED

In dealing with mediæval miracles it may not unnaturally be objected that we are wandering from the paths of history into the fields of fiction; but it is absolutely necessary to allude to them at some length because they played so important a part in the romantic tales of pilgrim-patients. We shall see that sufferers were constantly being carried about in search of cure, and in some cases were undoubtedly restored to health. This was an age of faith and therefore of infinite possibilities. It would appear that “marvels” were worked not only on certain nervous ailments, but on some deep-seated diseases. It is a recognized fact that illness caused by emotion (as of grief) has oftentimes been cured by emotion (as of hope). Possibly, too, not a few of the persons restored to health were suffering from hysteria and nervous affections, which complaints might be cured by change of scene and excitement. In the Book of the Foundation is the story of a well-known man of Norwich who would not take care of his health, and therefore “hadde lost the rest of slepe,” which alone keeps the nature sound and whole. His p093 insomnia became chronic, and by the seventh year of his misfortune he became very feeble, and so thin that his bones could be numbered. At length he betook himself to the relics of St. Bartholomew; there, grovelling on the ground, he multiplied his prayers and began to sleep—“and whan he hadde slepte a grete while he roys up hole.”

[♦ ] 14. ST. BARTHOLOMEW

(Twelfth-century seal)

On the other hand the conviction is forced upon us that many, perhaps most, of the so-called miracles were not genuine. Some diseases might have been feigned by astute beggars. Although experienced doctors and skilled nurses to-day are quick to detect cases, cleverly simulating paralysis, epilepsy, etc., the staff in a mediæval hospital would probably not discover the deception. When one such person became the hero of a dramatic scene of healing, the officials would joyfully acknowledge his cure, without intention of fraud. The narratives come down to us through monk-chroniclers, whose zeal for their home-shrines made them lend a quick ear to that which contributed to their fame. In those days people were uncritical and were satisfied without minute investigation.

There is, indeed, little information about early hospital inmates unless they were fortunate enough to receive what was universally believed in those days to be miraculous p094 healing. Startling incidents are related by contemporary writers, whose vivid and picturesque narratives suggest that they had met witnesses of the cures related. The twelfth-century chronicler of St. Bartholomew’s, Smithfield, gives us eyes to see some of the patients of that famous hospital.

(1) Patients of St. Bartholomew’s.—The cripple Wolmer, a well-known beggar who lay daily in St. Paul’s, was a most distressing case. He was so deformed as to be obliged to drag himself along on all fours, supporting his hands on little wooden stools. (Cf. Pl. XX.) His story is extracted from Dr. Norman Moore’s valuable edition of the faithful English version of the Liber Fundacionis, dating about the year 1400.

“There was an sykeman Wolmer be name with greuous and longe langoure depressid, and wrecchid to almen that hym behylde apperyd, his feit destitute of naturall myght hyng down, hys legges cleuyd to his thyis, part of his fyngerys returnyd to the hande, restynge alwey uppon two lytyll stolys, the quantite of his body, to hym onerous, he drew aftir hym. . . .”

For thirty winters Wolmer remained in this sad condition, until at length he was borne by his friends in a basket to the newly-founded hospital of St. Bartholomew, where his cure was wrought by a miracle as he lay extended before the altar in the church:—

“. . . and by and by euery crokidness of his body a litill & litill losid, he strecchid un to grownde his membris & so anoon auawntynge hym self up warde, all his membris yn naturale ordir was disposid. . . .”

The scene of this incident was, presumably, that noble building which we still see (Fig. 11), and which was then p095 fresh from the hand of the Norman architect and masons.

Aldwyn, a carpenter from Dunwich, once occupied a place in St. Bartholomew’s. His limbs were as twisted and useless as those of Wolmer; his sinews being contracted, he could use neither hand nor foot. Brought by sea to London, the cripple was “put yn the hospitall of pore men,” where awhile he was sustained. Bit by bit he regained power in his hands, and when discharged was able to exercise his craft once more.

Again the veil of centuries is lifted and we see the founder himself personally interested in the patients. A woman was brought into the hospital whose tongue was so terribly swollen that she could not close her mouth. Rahere offered to God and to his patron prayer on her behalf and then applied his remedy:—

“And he reuolvynge his relikys that he hadde of the Crosse, he depid them yn water & wysshe the tonge of the pacient ther with, & with the tree of lyif, that ys with the same signe of the crosse, paynted the tokyn of the crosse upon the same tonge. And yn the same howre all the swellynge wente his way, & the woman gladde & hole went home to here owne.”

Perhaps the most startling cure was that of a maid deaf, dumb, blind of both eyes and crippled. Brought by her parents to the festival of St. Bartholomew in the year 1173, she was delivered from every bond of sickness. Anon she went “joyfull skippyng forth”; her eyes clear, her hearing repaired, “she ran to the table of the holy awter, spredyng owte bothe handys to heuyn and so she that a litill beforne was dum joyng in laude of God p096 perfitly sowndyd her wordes”; then weeping for joy she went to her parents affirming herself free from all infirmity.

In the foregoing narratives it will be noticed that hospital and shrine were adjacent. This convenient combination not being found elsewhere, incurable patients were carried to pilgrimage-places. Two of the chief wonder-workers were St. Godric of Finchale and St. Thomas of Canterbury, who both died in 1170. Reginald of Durham narrates the cure by their instrumentality of three inmates from northern hospitals.[62]

(2) The Paralytic Girl and the Crippled Youth.—A young woman who had lost the use of one side by paralysis, was brought from the hospital of Sedgefield (near Durham) to Finchale, where the same night she recovered health. The poor cripple of York was not cured so rapidly. Utterly powerless, his arms and feet twisted after the manner of knotted ropes, this most wretched youth had spent years in St. Peter’s hospital. At length he betook himself as best he could to Canterbury, where he received from St. Thomas health on one side of his body. It grieved him that he was not worthy to be completely cured, but learning from many witnesses the fame of St. Godric, he hastened to his sepulchre; falling down there, he lay in weakness for some time, then, rising up, found the other side of his body absolutely recovered. The lad returned home whole and upright, and this notable miracle was attested by many who knew him, and by the procurator of the hospital.

(3) A Leper Maiden.—The touching tale of a girl who was eventually released from the lazar-house near p097 Darlington (Bathelspitel) is also related by Reginald, and transcribed by Longstaffe.

“There is a vill in the bishopric called Hailtune [Haughton-le-Skerne] in which dwelt a widow and her only daughter who was grievously tormented with a most loathsome leprosy. The mother remarried a man who soon began to view the poor girl with the greatest horror, and to torment and execrate her. . . . She fled for aid to the priest of the vill, who, moved with compassion, procured by his entreaties the admission of the damsel to the hospital of Dernigntune [Darlington], which was almost three miles distant, and was called Badele.”

There the maiden remained three years, growing daily worse. After describing her horrible symptoms and wasted frame, the chronicler narrates her marvellous cure at Finchale. Thrice did the devoted mother take her thither until the clemency of St. Godric was outpoured and “he settled and removed the noxious humours.” When at length the girl threw back the close hood, her mother beheld her perfectly sound. The scene of this pitiful arrival and glad departure was that beautiful spot at the bend of the river Weir, now marked by picturesque ruins. The complete recovery was attested by all, including the sheriff and the kind priest, Normanrus. We reluctantly lose sight of the delivered damsel, wondering whether the cruel step-father received her less roughly when she got home. It is simply recorded that never did the disease return, and that she lived long to extol the power given by God to His servant Godric.

(4) A Taunton Monk.—Seldom do we know the after-life of such patients, but a touching picture shows us one cleansed of his leprosy, serving his former fellow-inmates. This was John King, a monk of Taunton Priory. Prior p098 Stephen tells how he was smitten with terrible and manifest leprosy, on which account he was transferred to a certain house of poor people, where he stayed for more than a year among the brethren. The prior’s letter, after declaring how the fame of St. Thomas was growing throughout the world, refers to divers miracles, by one of which John was completely cured. Returning from Canterbury, he was authorized to gather alms for his former companions:—

“We . . . earnestly implore your loving good will for the love of God and St. Thomas, that you listen to the dutiful prayer of our brother John, wonderfully restored to health by God, if you have power to grant it. For he earnestly begs you to help by your labour and your alms the poverty of those sick men whose company he enjoyed so long.”[63]

Two similar instances of service are recorded. Nicholas, a cripple child cured at St. Bartholomew’s, was sent for a while to serve in the kitchen,—“for the yifte of his helth, he yave the seruyce of his body.” In the same way a blind man who had been miraculously cured by the merit of St. Wulstan (1221), afterwards took upon himself the habit of a professed brother in the hospital of that saint in Worcester. He had been a pugilist and had lost his sight in a duel, but having become a peaceable brother of mercy, he lived there honourably for a long while.[64]