English Monastic Life

by Francis Aidan Gasquet

7. THE INFIRMARIAN AND HIS WORK

The official appointed to have the care of the infirm and sick should have the virtue of patience in a pre-eminent degree. “He must be gentle,” says one Custumal, “and good-tempered, kind, compassionate to the sick, and willing as far as possible to gratify their needs with affectionate sympathy.” When one of the brethren was seized with any sickness and came to the infirmary, it was the infirmarian’s first duty to bring thither the sick man’s plate, his spoon, and his bed, and to inform the cellarer and kitchener, so that the sick man’s portion might be assigned to him in the infirmary refectory.

Whenever there were sick under his charge the infirmarian was to be excused, as far as was necessary, from regular duties. He said Mass for the sick, if he were a priest, or got some priest to do so, if he were not. If the sick were able to recite their Office, he said it with them, provided lights, if necessary, and procured the required books from the church. Whatever volumes they needed for reading he borrowed from the aumbry in the cloister; but he was warned always to take them back again before the cantor locked up the cupboard for the night. If there were more than one monk sick at the same time and they could help themselves, the infirmarian was then to go to the regular meals in the refectory; but he was to return to his charges as soon as possible and see that they had been properly served. He always slept in the infirmary, even when there were no sick actually there, and this because he had always to be ready for any emergency. Out of the revenue assigned to his office he had to find whatever might be necessary in the way of medicine and comforts for the sick. He was charged to keep the rooms in the infirmary clean, the floors sparsely covered with fresh rushes, and to have a fire always burning in the common-room when it was needed. According to one set of English directions, the infirmarian was advised always to keep in his cupboard a good supply of ginger, cinnamon, peony, etc., so as to be able at once to minister some soothing mixture or cordial when it was required, and to remember how much always depended in sickness on some such slight act of thoughtful sympathy and kindness.

The mediæval rules of the infirmary will probably strike us, with our modern notions, as being strangely strict upon the sick. The law of silence, for instance, was hardly relaxed at all in the infirmary; the sick man could indeed talk about himself and his ailments and necessities to the infirmarian at any time, and the latter could give him every consolation and advice; but there was apparently no permission for general conversation, even among the sick, except at the regular times for recreation; even at meal times the infirm ate in silence and followed, as far as might be, the law of the convent refectory.

BROTHER JOHN OF WALINGFORD
THE INFIRMARIAN OF ST. ALBAN’S

The brethren who were unwell were not all received in the infirmary for treatment. There were some monks sick, as one set of regulations points out, who were ailing merely from the effect of the very monotony and the necessarily irksome character of the life in the cloister; from the continued strain of silence; from the sheer fatigue of choral duties, or from sleeplessness and such-like causes. These did not need any special treatment under the infirmarian’s care; they required rest, not medicine; and the best cure for them was gentle exercise in the open air, in the garden or elsewhere, with temporary freedom from the strain of their daily service. Those who had grown old in their monastic service were to find a place of rest in the infirmary, where they were to be specially honoured by all. They too, however, had to keep the Rule as far as they were able without difficulty, and were to remember, as one English Custumal reminds them, “that not even the pope could grant them a dispensation contrary to their vows.” So they had to keep silence, for instance, if possible, and especially the great night silence after Compline.

The curious practice of periodical blood-letting, regarded according to mediæval medical knowledge as so salutary, formed part of the ordinary infirmarian’s work. The operation was performed, or might be performed, on all, four times a year, if possible in February, April, September, and October. It was not to take place in the time of harvest, in Advent or Lent, or on the three days following the feasts of Christmas, Easter, or Pentecost. The community were operated upon in batches of from two to six at a time, and the special day was arranged for them by the superior in Chapter, who would announce at the proper time that “those who sat at this or that table were to be blooded.” In settling the turns, consideration had, of course, to be paid to the needs of the community. The weekly server, for example, and the reader, and the hebdomadarian of the community Mass were not to be operated upon during the period of their service; and when a feast day was to be kept within four days of the blood-letting, only those were to be practised on who could be spared from the singing and serving at the necessary ecclesiastical functions of the feast.

From first to last, the operation of blood-letting occupied four days, and the process was simple. At the time appointed, the infirmarian had a fire lighted in the calefactory, if it were needed, and thither, between Tierce and Sext, if the day was not a fast, or between Sext and None if it were, the operator and his victims repaired. If the latter desired to fortify themselves against the lancet, they might proceed beforehand to the refectory and take something to eat and drink. During the time of healing, after the styptic had been applied and the bandages fastened, the discipline of the cloister was somewhat mitigated. The patient, for instance, could always spend the hours of work and reading in repose, either lying on his bed or sitting in the chapter-room or cloister, as he felt disposed. Till his return to full choir work, he was not to be bound to any duty. If he were an obedientiary or official, he was to get someone to see to his necessary duties for him during the time of his convalescence. If he liked to go to the Hours in choir, he was to sit; he was never to bend down or do penance of any kind, for fear of displacing the bandages, and he was to go out of the church before the others, for fear of having his arm rubbed if he were to walk in the ranks. During the three days of his convalescence he said his Compline at night in the chapter-room or elsewhere and then went straight to bed before the community. Though he had still to rise for Matins with the others, after a brief visit to the church he was allowed to betake himself to the infirmary and there to say a much shortened form of the night Office with the infirmarian and others. When this was done he was to return at once to bed. In the refectory the monk who had been “blooded” received the same food as the rest, with the addition of a half-pound of white bread and an extra portion, if possible, of eggs. On the second and third days this was increased in amount, and other strengthening food was given to him. In some places these meals were served in the infirmary after the blood-letting; and it was directed that the infirmary servant should on the first day after the bleeding get ready for the patients sage and parsley, washed in salt and water, and a dish of soft eggs. Those who found it necessary to be cupped or scarified more frequently, adds one set of regulations, had to get leave, but were not to expect to stay away from regular duties on that account.