The following curious extract is taken from a rare book published by W. Clowes, serjeant-surgeon to Queen Elizabeth, entitled, "A Proved Practice for all Young Chirurgians," 1588:
It is not long since that a subtile deluder, verie craftely having upon set purpose his brokers or espials abroade, using sundry secret drifts to allure many, as did the syrens by their sweet sonets and melody seduce mariners to make them their pray, so did his brokers or espials deceive many, in proclayming and sounding out his fame abroade from house to house, as those use which crye, "Mistresse, have you any worke for the tincker?" At the lengthe they heard of one that was tormented with a quartaine; then in all post haste this bad man was brought unto the sicke patient by their craftie means, and so forth, without any tariance, he did compound for fifteene pounde to rid him within three fits of his agew, and to make him as whole as a fish of all diseases: so a little before the fit was at hand, he called unto the wife of the patient to bring him an apple of the biggest size, and then with a pinne writte in the rinde of the apple Abracadabra, and such like, and perswaded him to take it presently in the beginning of his fit, for there was (sayeth he) a secret in those words. To be short, the patient, being hungry of his health, followed his counsell, and devoured all and every peece of the apple. So soon as it was receyved, nature left the disease to digest the apple, which was to hard to do; for at length he fell to vomiting, then the core kept such a sturre in his throate, that wheretofore his fever was ill, now much worse, a malo ad pejus, out of the frying-pan into the fire: presently there were physitions sent for unto the sick patient, or else his fifteene pound had been gone, with a more pretious jewell: but this lewde fellow is better knowne at Newgate than I will heere declare.[128:1]
Certain mystic sentences of barbaric origin, mostly unintelligible, and known as "Ephesian Letters," engraved upon the famous statue of Diana at Ephesus, were popular among the Greeks as charms wherewith to drive away diseases, to render the wearer invincible in battle, or to purify demon-infested places. Their invention was attributed to the fabulous Dactyls of Phrygia, and they appear to have been held in equally great esteem, whether pronounced orally as incantations, or inscribed upon strips of parchment and worn as amulets.
In ancient Hibernia, the former western limit of the known world, the Druids, in their medical treatment, relied much upon magic rites and incantations.[129:1] And the early Irish physicians, who belonged to the Druid priesthood, were devoted to mystical medicine, although they also prescribed various herbs with whose therapeutic use they were familiar.[129:2] In Ireland according to Lady Wilde,[129:3] invocations were formerly in the names of the Phenician god Baal, and of the Syrian goddess Ashtoreth, representing the sun and moon respectively. . . . After the establishment of Christianity, formulas of invocation were usually in the names of Christ or the Holy Trinity, and those of Mary, Peter, and numerous saints were also used. In Brand's "Popular Antiquities,"[129:4] we find a long list of the names of saints who were invoked for the cure of particular ailments; and the same authority quotes from a work entitled "The Irish Hubbub," by Barnaby Rich, 1619, these lines: "There is no disease, no sicknesse, no greefe, either amongst men or beasts, that hath not his physician among the saints."
The devotion of the Teutonic tribes to magical medicine is not surprising to any one versed in the mythological lore of Scandinavia, which is replete with sorcery. And throughout the Middle Ages, although medical practice was largely in the hands of Christian priests and monks, yet sorcerers and charlatans continued to employ old pagan usages and magical remedies. The German physicians of the Carlovingian era pretended to cure ailments by whispering in the patient's ear, as well as by the use of enchanted herbs. They inherited ceremonial formulas from the practitioners of an earlier age, for the treatment of ophthalmic diseases; and in addition to such spells, they made use of various gestures, and were wont to thrice touch the affected eyes.[130:1]
In Grimm's "Teutonic Mythology"[130:2] is to be found an old German spell against gout, as follows: "God, the Lord went over the land; there met him 70 sorts of gouts and goutesses. Then spake the Lord: 'Ye 70 gouts and goutesses, whither would ye?' Then spake the 70 gouts and goutesses: 'We go over the land and take from men their health and limbs.' Then spake the Lord: 'Ye shall go to an elder-bush and break off all his boughs, and leave with [such an one, naming the patient] his straight limbs.'"
Many old German healing-spells contain the names of our Lord and of the Virgin, which probably superseded those of pagan deities and sacred mythological personages, the formulas remaining otherwise the same. Such spells are akin to pious invocations or actual prayers. Others exhibit a blending of devotion and credulity, and appear to have degenerated into mere verbal forms.
According to a tradition of the North, while Wodan and Baldur were once on a hunting excursion, the latter's horse dislocated a leg; whereupon Wodan reset the bones by means of a verbal charm. And the mere narration of this prehistoric magical cure is in repute in Shetland as a remedy for lameness in horses at the present day.
A remarkable cure for intermittent fever, in a marshy district of Lincolnshire, is described in "Folk-Lore," June, 1898 (page 186). An old woman, whose grandson had a bad attack of the fever, fastened upon the foot-board of his bed three horse-shoes, with a hammer laid cross-wise upon them. With the hammer the old crone gave each shoe a smart tap, repeating each time this spell: "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, nail the Devil to this post, one for God and one for Wod and one for Lok. . . . Yon's a sure charm," said she, "that will hold the Old One as fast as t' church tower, when next he comes to shake un." The chronicler of this curious incantation calls attention to the association of the name of God with two heathen personages: Wodan, the chief ruler, and Loki, the spirit of evil, in the mythology of the North.
The early Saxons in England knew little of scientific medicine, and relied on indigenous herbs. They were much addicted to the use of wizard spells, a term which originated with them; and were too ignorant to adopt the skilled methods of the practitioners of Greece and Italy.