Surgeons and doctors figure conspicuously in the old tales of the Red Branch Knights, and indeed in very many others, whether historical or romantic and fictitious: as well as in the strictly historical writings. A medical staff always accompanied armies, each man having, slung from his shoulder, a bag full of herbs, ointments, bandages, and such other medical appliances as were used at the time. They followed in the rear of the army—each company under one head doctor; and at the end of each day’s fighting—or during the fighting when possible—they came forward and applied their salves.
We are all now familiar with the humane practice of giving medical aid to the wounded after the battle, without distinction of friend or foe. The same practice was common in Ireland two thousand years ago. We read in one of the Tales, that when Kehern, a famous Ulster hero, returned from fighting, all covered with wounds, the Ulstermen sent a request to the Connaught camp—i.e., the camp of the enemy—for physicians, as it happened that none of the Ulster leeches were just then at hand: and physicians were promptly despatched with the messenger.
A king or a great chief had always a physician as part of his household, to attend to the health of his family. The usual remuneration of these men was a residence and a tract of land in the neighbourhood, free of all rent and taxes, together with certain allowances: and the medical man might, if he chose, practise for fee outside the household. Some of those in the service of great kings had castles, and lived in state like princes. Those not so attached lived on their fees, like many doctors of the present day: and the fees for the various operations or attendances were laid down in the Brehon Law.
Though medical doctors were looked up to with great respect, they had to be very careful in exercising their profession. A leech who through carelessness, or wilful neglect, or gross want of skill, failed to cure a wound, might be brought before a brehon or judge, and if the case was proved home against him, he had to pay the same fine to the patient as if he had inflicted the wound with his own hand, besides forfeiting his fee.
Medicine, as a profession, like Law, History, etc., often ran in families in Ireland, descending regularly from father to son; and several Irish families were distinguished leeches for generations, such as the O’Shiels, the O’Cassidys, the O’Hickeys, and the O’Lees.
Each medical family kept a book, which was handed down reverently from father to son, and in which was written, in Irish or Latin, all the medical knowledge derived either from other books or from the actual experience of the various members of the family; and many of these old volumes, all in beautiful handwriting, are still preserved in Dublin and elsewhere. As showing the admirable spirit in which those good men studied and practised their profession, and how much they loved it, it is worth while to give a translation of the opening statement, a sort of preface, in the Irish language, written at the beginning of one of these books, nearly six hundred years ago:—
“May the good God have mercy on us all. I have here collected practical rules of medicine from several works, for the honour of God, for the benefit of the Irish people, for the instruction of my pupils, and for the love of my friends and of my kindred. I have translated many of them into Gaelic from Latin books, containing the lore of the great leeches of Greece and Rome. These are sweet and profitable things which have been often tested by us and by our instructors.
“I pray God to bless those doctors who will use this book; and I lay it as an injunction on their souls, that they extract knowledge from it not by any means sparingly, and that they do not neglect the practical rules herein contained. More especially I charge them that they do their duty devotedly in cases where they receive no payment on account of the poverty of their patients.
“Let every physician, before he begins his treatment, offer up a secret prayer for the sick person, and implore the heavenly Father, the Physician and Balm-giver of all mankind, to prosper the work he is entering upon, and to save himself and his patient from failure.”
There is good reason to believe that the noble and kindly sentiments here expressed were generally those of the physicians of the time; from which we may see that the old Irish medical doctors were quite as devoted to their profession, as eager for knowledge, and as anxious about their patients as those of the present day.