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While the Thirteenth Century was engaged in solving the problems of
the higher education and of technical education for the masses, and was
occupied so successfully, as we have seen, with the questions of the
rights of man and the development of law and of liberty, other and more
directly social and humanitarian works were not neglected. There had
been hospitals in existence from even before the Christian era, but
they had been intended rather for the chronic ailments and as the name
implies, for the furnishing of hospitality to strangers and others who
had for the time no habitation, than for the care of the acutely ill.
In the country places there was a larger Christian charity which led
people to care even for the stranger, and there was a sense of human
duty that was much more binding than in the modern world. The acutely
ill were not infrequently taken into the houses of even those who did
not know them, and cared for with a solicitude difficult to understand
in this colder time. This was not so much typical of the times,
however, as of the social conditions, since we have many stories of
such events in our colonial days.
In the cities, however, which began more and more to be a feature of
life in the Thirteenth Century, though they counted their inhabitants
only by a few thousands where ours count them by hundreds of thousands,
the need of some other method of caring for such cases made itself
distinctly felt. At the end of the Twelfth and the beginning of the
Thirteenth centuries this need became demandingly manifest, and the
consequence was a movement that proved to be of great and far-reaching
practical benevolence. It is to the first Pope of the Thirteenth
Century, Innocent III., that we owe the modern city hospital as
we have it at the present time, with its main purpose to care for the
acutely ill who may have no one to take care of them properly, as well
as for those who have been injured or who have been picked up on the
Street and whose friends are not in a position to care for them.
The deliberateness with which Innocent III. set about the
establishment of the mother city hospital of the world, is a striking
characteristic of the genius of the man and an excellent illustration of
the practical character of the century of which he is so thoroughly
representative.
Pope Innocent recognized the necessity for the existence of a city
hospital in Rome and by inquiry determined that the model hospital for
this purpose existed down at Montpelier in connection with the famous
medical school of the university there. Montpelier had succeeded to
the heritage of the distinguished reputation in medical matters which
had been enjoyed by Salernum, not far from Naples, during the
Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh centuries. The shores of the
Mediterranean have always been recognized as possessing a climate
especially suitable for invalids and with the diminution of the
influence of the Salernitan school, a transfer of its prestige to
Montpelier, where the close relationship with Spain had given the
medical schools the advantage of intimate contact with the medicine of
the Arabs, is not a matter of surprise. At Montpelier the hospital
arrangements made by Guy de Montpelier were especially efficient.
The hospital of which he had charge was under the care of the members
of the order of the Holy Spirit.
Pope Innocent summoned Guy, or Guido as he was known after this,
to Rome and founded for him the hospital of the Holy Spirit in the
Borgo, not far from St. Peter's, where it still exists. This
was the mother and model hospital for the world. Visitors to Rome saw
it, and could not fail to admire its great humanitarian work. Bishops
from all over the world on their official visits to the head of the
Church, admired the policy under which the hospital was conducted,
recognized the interest of the Pope in it, and went back to their
homes to organize institutions of the same kind. How many of these
were established in various parts of Europe is hard to determine.
Virchow in his History of the Foundations of the German Hospitals,
has a list of over one hundred towns in Germany in which hospitals of
the Holy Spirit, or medical institutions modeled on this hospital at
Rome were founded. Many of these towns were comparatively small.
Most of them contained at the time less than five thousand
inhabitants, so that it can be said without hesitation, that
practically every town of any importance, at least in Germany, came
under the influence of this great philanthropic hospital movement.
With regard to other countries, it is more difficult to determine the
number of places in which such institutions were established. As both
France and Italy were, however, much more closely in touch with the
Holy See at this time, it would be surprising if they had not been
affected as much as Germany by the Pope's enthusiasm in the matter.
We do know that in various large cities, as in Florence, Siena,
Paris and London, there was a development of existing hospitals and
the establishment of new ones, that points to a distinct community of
interest in the hospital movement. At Paris, the Hotel Dieu was
moved from the Petit Pont, where it had been, to its present
situation and received large extensions in size and in usefulness. It
was at this time, particularly, that it received donations for
endowment purposes that would enable it to be self-supporting. A
number of bequests of property, the rent of which was to be paid to the
hopsital, were made, and the details of some of these bequests have an
interest of their own. Houses were not numbered at this time but were
distinguished by various signs, usually figures of different kinds that
formed part of their facade. The Hotel Dieu acquired the houses with
the image of St. Louis, with the sign of the golden lion of
Flanders, with the image of the butterfly, with the group of the
three monkeys, with the image of the wolf, with the image of the iron
lion, with the cross of gold, with the chimneys, etc. The Hotel
Dieu, indeed, seems to have become practically a fully endowed
institution during the course of the Thirteenth Century, for there
are apparently no records of special revenues voted by the city or the
king, though there are such records with regard to other places. For
instance the Hospital of St. Louis received the right to collect a
special tax on all the salt that came into the city. In England the
hospital movement during the Thirteenth Century is evidently quite as
active as in Germany, at least as far as the records go. These refer
mainly to London and show that the influence of the work of Innocent
III. and his enthusiasm was felt in the English capital. The
famous St. Bartholomew's Hospital in London had been a Priory
founded at the beginning of the Twelfth Century, which took care of
the poor and the ailing, but at the beginning of the Thirteenth
Century it became more frankly a hospital in the modern sense of the
word. St. Thomas' Hospital, which remains to the present day one
of the great medical institutions of London, was founded by Richard,
Prior of Bermondsey, in 1213. Bethlehem or Bedlam, which
afterwards became a hospital for the insane, was founded about the
middle of the Thirteenth Century. The name Bedlam is a corruption
of Bethlehem, since adopted into the English language to express a
place where fools do congregate. Bridewell and Christ's Hospital,
which were the other two of the institutions long known as the five
Royal Hospitals of London, also seem either to have been founded,
or to have received a great stimulus and reorganization in the
Thirteenth Century, but both ceased after some time to be places for
the reception of the ailing and became, one of them a prison and the
other a school.
The names of some of these institutions became associated with that of
Edward VI. about the middle of the Sixteenth Century. For this,
however, there was no proper justification, since, at most, all that
was accomplished within the reign of the boy king, was the
reestablishment of institutions formerly in existence which had been
confiscated under the laws of Henry VIII., but the necessity for
whose existence had been made very clear, because of the suffering
entailed upon the many ailing poor by the fact, that in their absence
there was nowhere for them to go to be cared for. As Gairdner points
out in his History of the English Church in the Sixteenth Century,
"Edward has left a name in connection with charities and education
which critical scholars find to be little justified by fact" The
supposed foundation of St. Thomas' Hospital was only the
reestablishment of this institution, and even when it was granted by
him to the citizens of London, this was not, as Gairdner says,
"without their paying for it."
How much all this hospital movement owes to Innocent III. will be
best appreciated from Virchow's account of the German hospitals, the
great German Scientist not being one of those at all likely to
exaggerate, the beneficent influence of the Popes. He says:
"The main cause decisive in influencing and arousing interest of the
people of the time in the hospitals of the Holy Ghost was the Papal
enthusiasm in the matter. The beginning of their history is connected
with the name of that Pope, who made the boldest and
farthest-reaching attempt to gather the sum of human interest into the
organization of the Catholic Church. The hospitals of the Holy
Ghost were one of the many means by which Innocent III. thought to
bind humanity to the Holy See. And surely it was one of the most
effective. Was it not calculated to create the most profound
impression, to see how the mighty Pope who humbled emperors and
deposed kings, who was the unrelenting adversary of the Albigenses,
turned his eyes sympathetically upon the poor and sick, sought the
helpless and the neglected on the streets, and saved the illegitimate
children from death in the waters. There is something conciliating and
fascinating in the fact that at the very same time at which the Fourth
Crusade was inaugurated through his influence, the thought of founding
a great organization of an essentially humane character to extend
throughout all Christendom, was also taking form in his soul; and
that in the same year (1204) in which the new Latin Empire was
founded in Constantinople, the newly erected hospital of the Santo
Spirito, by the Old Bridge across the Tiber, was blessed and
dedicated as the future center of this universal humanitarian
organization."
Virchow, of course, considers Innocent's action as due to the
entirely interested motive of binding the Catholic world to the Holy
See. Others, however, who have studied Innocent's life even more
profoundly, have not considered his purpose as due to any such mean
motive. Hurter who wrote a history of Pope Innocent III., the
researches for which he began as a Protestant with the idea that in the
life of this Pope better than anywhere else the pretensions of the
papacy could be most effectively exposed, but who was so taken by the
character of the man that before he completed his history he had become
a Catholic, looks at it in a very different way. Even Virchow
himself quotes Hurter's opinion, though not without taking some
exceptions to it. Hurter said with regard to charitable foundations in
his history of Pope Innocent III.: "All benevolent institutions
which the human race still enjoys, all care for the deserted and needy
through every stage of suffering from the first moment of birth to the
return of the material part to earth, have had their origin in the
church. Some of them directly, some of them indirectly through the
sentiments and feelings which she aroused, strengthened and vivified
into action. The church supplied for them the model and sometimes even
the resources; that these great humanitarian needs were not neglected
and their remedies not lacking in any respect is essentially due to her
influence upon human character."
With regard to this Virchow says that hospitals had existed among the
Arabs and among the Buddhists in the distant East,
"nevertheless," he adds, "it may be recognized and admitted, that
it was reserved for the Roman Catholic Church and above all for
Innocent III., to establish institutions for the care of those
suffering from diseases.
A corresponding hospital movement that received considerable attention
within the Thirteenth Century was the erection of Leproseries or
hospitals for the care of lepers. Leprosy had become quite common in
Europe during the Middle Ages, and the contact of the West with the
East during the Crusades had brought about a notable increase of the
disease. It is not definitely known how much of what was called
leprosy at that time really belonged to the specific disease now known
as lepra. There is no doubt that many affections which have since come
to be considered as quite harmless and non-contagious, were included
under the designation leprosy by the populace and even by physicians
incapable as yet of making a proper differential diagnosis. Probably
severe cases of eczema and other chronic skin diseases, especially when
complicated by the results of wrongly directed treatment or of lack of
cleansing, were sometimes pronounced to be leprosy. Certain of the
severer forms of what is now known as psoriasis -- a non-contagious
skin disease -- running a very slow course and sometimes extremely
obstinate to treatment, were almost surely included under the diagnosis
of leprosy. Personally I have seen in the General Hospital in
Vienna, a patient who had for many months been compelled by the
villagers among whom he lived to confine himself to his dwelling,
sustained by food that was thrown into him at the window by the
neighbors who were fearful of the contagiousness of his skin disease,
yet he was suffering from only a very neglected case of psoriasis.
There is no doubt, however, of the existence of actual leprosy in
many of the towns of the West from the Twelfth to the Fifteenth
centuries, and the erection of these special hospitals proved the best
possible prophylactic against the further spread of the disease.
Leprosy is contagious, but only mildly so. Years of association with
lepers may and usually does bring about the communication of the disease
to those around them, especially if they do not exercise rather
carefully certain precise precautions as to cleanliness, after personal
contact or after the handling of things which have previously been in
the leper's possession. As the result of the existence of these
houses of segregation, leprosy disappeared during the course of the
next three centuries and thus a great hygienic triumph was obtained by
sanitary regulation.
The successful hygienic and sanitary work, which brought about
practically the complete obliteration of leprosy in the Middle Ages,
furnished the first example of the possibility of eradicating a disease
that had become a scourge to mankind. That this should have been
accomplished by a movement that had its greatest source in the
Thirteenth Century, is all the more surprising, since we are usually
accustomed to think of the people of those times, as sadly lacking in
any interest in sanitary matters. The significance of the success of
the segregation movement was lost upon men down almost to our own time.
This was, however, because it was considered that most of the
epidemic diseases were conveyed by the air. They were thought
infectious and due to a climatic condition rather than to contagion,
that is conveyed by actual contact with the person having the disease or
something that had touched him, which is the view now held. With the
beginning of the crusade against tuberculosis in the latter part of the
Nineteenth Century, however, the most encouraging factor for those
engaged in it, was the history of the success of segregation methods
and careful prevention of the spread of the disease which had been
pursued against leprosy. In a word the lessons in sanitation and
prophylaxis of the Thirteenth Century are only now bearing fruit,
because the intervening centuries did not have sufficient knowledge to
realize their import and take advantage of them.
Pope Innocent III. was not the only occupant of the papal throne
whose name deserves to be remembered with benedictions in connection
with the hospital movement of the Thirteenth Century. His successors
took up the work of encouragement where he had left it at his death and
did much to bring about the successful accomplishment of his intentions
in even wider spheres. Honorius III. is distinguished by having
made into an order the Antonine Congregation of Vienna, which was
especially devoted to the care of patients suffering from the holy fire
and from various mutilations. The disease known as the holy fire seems
to have been what is called in modern times crysipelas. During the
Middle Ages it received various titles such as St. Anthony's
fire, St. Francis' fire, and the like, the latter part of the
designation evidently being due to the intense redness which
characterizes the disease, and which can be compared to nothing better
than the erythema consequent upon a rather severe burn. This affection
was a great deal commoner in the Middle Ages than in later times,
though it must not be forgotten that its disappearance has come mainly
in the last twenty-five years.
It is now known to be a contagious disease and indeed, as Oliver
Wendell Holmes pointed out over half a century ago, may readily be
carried from place to place by the physician in attendance. It does
not always manifest itself as erysipelas when thus carried, however,
and the merit of Dr. Holmes' work was in pointing out the fact that
physicians who attended patients suffering from erysipelas and then
waited on obstetrical cases, were especially likely to carry the
infection which manifested itself as puerperal fever. A number of
cases of this kind were reported and discussed by him, and there is no
doubt that his warning served to save many precious lives.
Of course nothing was known of this in the Thirteenth Century, yet
the encouragement given to this religious order, which devoted itself
practically exclusively to the care in special hospitals of erysipelas,
must have had not a litte effect in bringing about a limitation of the
spread of the disease. In such hospitals patients were not likely to
come in contact with many persons and consequently the contagion-radius
of the disease was limited. In our own time immediate segregation of
cases when discovered has practically eradicated it, so that many a
young physician, even though ten years in practise, has never seen a
case of it. It was so common in America during the Civil War and
for half a century prior thereto, that there were frequent epidemics of
it in hospitals and it was generally recognized that the disease was so
contagious that when it once gained a foothold in a hospital, nearly
every patient suffering from an open wound was likely to be affected by
it.
It is interesting then to learn that these people of the Middle Ages
attempted to control the disease by erecting special hospitals for it,
though unfortunately we are not in a position to know just how much was
accomplished by these means. A congregation devoted to the special
care of the disease had been organized, as we have said, early in the
Thirteenth Century. At the end of this century this was given the
full weight of his amplest approval by Pope Boniface VIII., who
conferred on it the privilege of having priests among its members. It
will be remembered that Pope Boniface VIII. is said to have
issued the Bull which forbade the practise of dissection. The
decretal in question, however, which was not a Bull, only
regulated, as I have shown, the abuse which had sprung up of
dismembering bodies and boiling them in order to be able to carry them
to a distance for burial, and was in itself an excellent hygienic
measure.
Many orders for the care of special needs of humanity were established
during the Thirteenth Century. It is from this period that most of
the religious habits worn by women originate. These used to be
considered rather cumbersome for such a serious work as the nursing and
care of the sick, but in recent years quite a different view has been
taken. The covering of the head, for instance, and the shearing of
the hair must have been of distinct value in preventing communication of
certain diseases. There has been a curious assimilation in the last
few years, of the dress required to be worn by nurses in operating
rooms to that worn by most of the religious communities. The head must
be completely covered, and the garments worn are of material that can
be washed. It will be recalled that the headdresses of religious,
being as a rule of spotless white, must be renewed frequently and
therefore must be kept in a condition of what is practically surgical
cleanliness. While this was not at all the intention of those who
adopted the particular style of headdress worn by religious, yet their
choice has proved, in what may well be considered a Providential way,
to be an excellent protective for the patients against certain dangers
that would inevitably have been present, if their dress had been the
ordinary one of the women of their class during these many centuries of
hospital nursing by religious women.
The organization of charity is supposed to be a feature of social life
that was reserved for these modern times. A subsequent chapter on
Democracy, Christian Socialism and National Patriotism, shows how
false this notion is from one standpoint; a little additional
interpretation will show that the generations which organized the
hospitals, took care of the lepers in such a way as to prevent their
becoming sources of infection for others, and segregated such severe
contagious diseases as erysipelas, not only knew how to organize
charitable efforts, but were able to accomplish their purposes in this
matter in such a way, that the friction of the charity organization
itself absorbed as little as possible of the beneficent energy put into
it, and much less than is the case in our own time. Besides the
monasteries were really active centers of charity organization of the
most practical character. They not only gave to the people when their
necessities required it, but they were active employers of labor and in
times of scarcity constantly made large sacrifices in order to keep
their people employed, and even the community itself went on short
rations in order that the suffering in the neighborhood might not be
extreme. In times of prosperity there were, no doubt, abuses in
monasteries, but no one ever accused them of neglecting the poor during
times of famine.
While the Thirteenth Century was so intent upon the relief of the
social needs consequent upon illness and injury, it did not neglect
other forms of social endeavor. One of the crying evils of the
Thirteenth Century was the fact that mariners and merchants, as well
as pilgrims to the Holy Land, were not infrequently captured by
corsairs from the northern coast of Africa, and sold into slavery.
At times, if there was hope of a very large ransom, news of the
condition of these poor victims might find its way to their homes. As
a rule, however, they were as much lost to family and friends as if
they had actually been swallowed up by the sea, which was usually
concluded to have been their fate. The hardships thus endured and the
utter helplessness of their conditions made them fitting subjects for
special social effort. The institution which was to provide relief for
this sad state of affairs had its rise in a typically Thirteenth
Century way -- what, doubtless, the modern world would be apt to
think of as characteristically medieval -- but the result achieved was
as good an example of practical benevolence as has ever been effected in
the most matter-of-fact of centuries.
Shortly after the beginning of the Thirteenth Century two very
intelligent men, whose friends honored them very much for the
saintliness of their lives -- meaning by saintliness not only their
piety but their thoughtfulness for others before themselves -- had a
dream in which they saw poor captives held in slavery and asking for
some one out of Christian charity to come and ransom them. One of
these men was John of Matha, a distinguished teacher of Theology at
the University of Paris. The other was Felix of Valois, more
distinguished for his piety than his learning, but by no means an
ignorant man. On the same night, though living at a distance from one
anofher, they had this identical dream. Having told it next day to
some friends, it happened that after a time it came to their mutual
knowledge that the other had had a similar vision. The circumstance
seemed so striking to them that they applied to the Pope for an
interpretation of it. The Pope, who was Innocent III., the
founder of city hospitals, saw in it a magnificent opportunity for the
foundation of another great Christian charity.
Accordingly in interpreting it, he directed their thoughts toward the
redemption of Christian captives taken by the Saracens. He has as a
consequence been regarded as the founder of the order of Trinitarians
(A. D. 1198), and did, in fact, draft its Rule. It was
called, from its object, Ordo de Redemptione Captivorum, (Order
for the Redemption of Captives), but its members were more generally
known as Trinitarians. They wore a white habit, having a red and
blue cross on the breast. They were well received in France, where
they had originated, were the recipients of large sums of money to be
devoted to the objects of the order, and had large accessions to their
number, among whom were many distinguished by ability and profound
learning.
In the year 1200 the first company of ransomed captives arrived
from Morocco, and one may easily imagine their joy on again regaining
their freedom and beholding once more their friends and native land.
The members of this order were sometimes called Mathurins, from the
title of the first church occupied by them in Paris. They spread
rapidly in Southern France, through Spain, Italy, England,
Saxony, and Hungary, and foundations of a similar kind were also
opened for women. Cerfroid, in the diocese of Meaux, where the
first house of the order was opened, became the residence of the
General (minister generalis). There was a fine field for their
labors in Spain, where the Moors were constantly at war with the
Christians. The self-sacrificing spirit of these religious, which
led them to incur almost any dangers in the accomplishment of their
purpose, was only equaled by their zeal in arousing interest for the
poor captives. They became the accredited agents for the ransoming of
prisoners, and also for their exchange and even the Mahometans learned
to trust and eventually to reverence them. When they could not ransom
at once they thus succeeded in ameliorating the conditions in which
slave prisoners were kept, and proved a great source of consolation to
them.
Another order, having the same object in view but differing somewhat
in its constitution, was founded in 1218, by Peter of Nolasco,
a distinguished Frenchman, and Raymond of Pennafort the famous
authority on canon law. In this, too, medieval supernaturalism
evolved the usual practical results. In consequence of a vision, the
order was placed under the special protection of the Blessed Virgin,
and called the Order of the Blessed Virgin of Mercy (Ordo. B.
Mariae de Mercede). Its members bound themselves by vow to give
their fortunes and to serve as soldiers in the cause. Their devotion
was so ardent, that for the accomplishment of their purpose they vowed
if necessary to make a sacrifice of their very persons, as Peter
actually did in Africa, for the redemption of Christian captives.
Hence their members were divided into Knights who wore a white
uniform, and Brothers, who took orders and provided for the spiritual
wants of the community. Gregory IX., admiring the heroic devotion
of these intrepid men, approved the order. Many thousands of captive
Christians who would otherwise have dragged out a miserable existence
as slaves among the Mahometans of North Africa, were thus rescued
and restored to their families and a life of freedom and happiness in
Europe. This was a fine practical example of Abolitionism worthy of
study and admiration.
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