CHAPTER I.

CHAUCER. Chaucer’s _Canterbury Tales_ present one of the most interesting pictures of life and manners in the fourteenth century we have in English literature. The father of English poetry was born in 1328, and London is generally believed to have been his birthplace. It was his fortune to live under the wing of that chivalrous and high-spirited king, Edward III., a time when gallantry, prowess, and courage were counted in the highest esteem. In his _Canterbury Tales_ he embodies some vivid sketches of the times and characters among which he lived. A physician of course forms one of his motley crew of pilgrims, who beguile the monotony of their ride to Canterbury, to pay homage at the shrine of Thomas à Becket, by the quaint stories related. The pilgrim doctor is thus described:— “With us there was a doctor of physic, In all this world there was none him like To speak of physic and of surgery, For he was grounded in astronomy, He kept his patient in a full great deal, In houres by his magic natural. Well could he fortune the ascendant, Of his images for his patient He knew the cause of every malady, Were it of cold, or hot, or moist, or dry, And where engendered and of what humour, He was a very perfect practisour. The cause-y-know and of his harm the root Anon he gave to the sick man his boot. Full ready had he his apothecaries, To send his drugges and his lectuaries For each of them made other for to win Their friendship was not newe to begin. Well knew he the old Æsculapius, And Dioscorides, and eke Rufus, Old Hippocras, Hali, and Gallien, Serapion, Rasis, and Avicen Averrois, Damascene, and Constantin, Bernard, and Gatisden, and Gilbertin. Of his diet measurable was he, For it was of no superfluity, But of great nourishing and digestable; His study was but little on the Bible, In sanguine and in perse he clad was, all Lined with taffata and with sendall, And yet he was but easy of dispence, He kept that he won in the pestilence. For gold in physic is a cordial, Therefore he loved gold in special.” One can thus picture the ancient physician riding his steady jennet, clad in doublet and hose of red and blue, with cloak of sendall, a fine silk material, all lined with taffata. In telling the stars and casting horoscopes he would be learned, as astrology entered very largely into his practice, and brought many big fees. So learned a leech would doubtless have a large practice, and the apothecaries evidently vied with one another in preparing his prescriptions. The names of ancient philosophers with whom he was familiar is quite formidable, nearly all the old authors being enumerated. It is satisfactory to know he was no glutton, and had an easy conscience. That he was a wise and careful man is evident from the fact that when an epidemic came he lived but moderately, and saved extra money that flowed in during the plague time. The closing couplet is a pretty bit of wit, and alludes to the frequent use of gold in medicine in ancient times. Among the pilgrims also was a cook— “To boil the chickens and the marrow bones, And powder marchant tart and garlingale”. The former ingredient, probably a kind of baking powder, is now unknown, and the use of galingal in cookery has been quite forgotten. This aromatic condiment was commonly used as a culinary spice in the middle ages. Reference is made to the drug in the writings of Ibn Khurdadbah, the Arabian geographer, in the year 869. It was used mixed with cloves and cardamoms, and also employed in medical practice as early as the ninth century. In the course of the knight’s romantic tale, Palamon, a gallant young knight, escapes from a prison in which he has been immured for seven years, by drugging the jailer:— “Soon after the midnight, Palamon By helping of a friend brake his prison And fled the city, fast as he might go, For he had given drink his gaoler so, Of a clary made of a certain wine With narcotise and opie of Thebes fine, That all the night through that men would him shake, The gaoler slept he mighte not wake”. Clary was Hippocras wine made with spices, probably chosen in order to mask the taste of the opium and other narcotics, of which it was evident Palamon must have given the unfortunate jailer a large dose if he slept through the vigorous shaking which is said to have been administered. The opium of Thebes was much used in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. Prosper Alpinus, who visited Egypt in 1580-83, states that opium or meconium was in his time prepared in the Thebäid from the expressed juice of poppy-heads, and it was called _Opium Thebaïcum_. Later in the story a sharp encounter occurs between two bands of knights, in which:— “All were they sorely hurt and namely one, That with a spear was thirled his breast bone, To other wounds and to broken arms, Some hadden salves and some hadden charms, And pharmacies of herbs eke sage, They dranken, for they would their lives have.” The carrying of salves by knights to battle probably originated with the Crusaders, who carried, prepared and blessed, unguents to dress their wounds. Other warriors scorned to encumber themselves with the healing medicines, and relied on the charm or talisman which almost every knight carried on going to war. Some would trust to the simple herb or decoction, and sage which is here mentioned was supposed to have special healing virtue. In the Miller’s tale we are introduced to one Hendy Nicholas, a poor scholar or tutor who lived at Oxford, and “Had learned art, but all his fantasy Was turned for to learn astrology”. Nicholas was a sly fellow to boot, and somewhat of a beau or a fop of his time and evidently having a turn for science, he practised it in his leisure, and was consulted by the farmers of the neighbourhood as to the state of the weather, or in prognosticating the future for their wives. He had a laboratory at his lodgings, which is described in the following words:— “A chamber had he in that hostelry, Alone withouten any company, Full fetisly-y-dight with herbs swoot, And he himself was sweet as is the root Of liquorice or any setewale. His almagest, and books great and small, His astrolobe belonging to his art, His augrim stones layed fair apart, On shelves couched at his beddes head. His press-y-covered with a falding red, And above all them lay a gay psaltry, On which he made at nightes melody So sweetely that all the chamber rang, And Angelus a virginem he sang; And after that he sung the Knight’s note; Full often blessed was his merry throat. And thus this sweete clerk his time spent, After his friendes finding, and his rent.” One can easily imagine from this sketch the astrologer sitting arrayed in his laboratory, the room filled with the perfume of fragrant herbs, with a manner that vied with the sweetness of liquorice or valerian root. Prominent among the many books with which he is surrounded is the _Almagest_, the book of Ptolomy, which formed the canon of astrological science in the middle ages. In one corner his bed, and above on a shelf his astrolobe, with which he told the stars, and the augrim stones, probably pieces of slate marked with figures used by astrologers in their art. Then there was the press or chest covered with a red cloth, and hanging above it his psaltery gaily decked with ribbons, on which he accompanied himself when he sang, at which he was evidently an adept. Later in the story the astrologer and man of science becomes smitten by Cupid, and one fine morning goes forth at an early hour to serenade a comely maid (unfortunately for him, married) of whom he is enamoured, and we are told— “When that the first cock hath crowed, anon Up rose this jolly lover Absolon, And him arrayed gay at point devise, But first he chewed grains and liquorice, To smelle sweet ere he combed his hair. Under his tongue a true love he bear, For thereby thought he to be gracious.” Like unto other votaries at the shrine of Venus, our astrologer took pains to make himself look to the best advantage, and evidently bestowed the greatest care on his dress. To perfume his breath and make himself acceptable to his lady love, he chewed grains of paradise and liquorice. The former was a favourite spice in early times, but now rarely used. It has a strong aromatic taste, which is imparted by an essential oil it contains. The “true love” is thought to mean some charm or sweetmeat in the form of a “true lover’s knot,” which he placed under his tongue for the same purpose, and thus this ancient gallant went forth to woo. That belladonna was used in Chaucer’s time as a narcotic may be gathered from a passage in the Reeve’s tale, which runs:— “To bedde went the daughter right anon, To bedde went Alein and also John. There was no more, needed them no dwale.” Dwale was an old name for the nightshade, and we may infer its properties were known, as it was used to produce sleep at this period. In the Nun’s Priest’s tale we are given a receipt for bad dreams and melancholy, which gives an example of the housewife’s knowledge of the herbs and simples which grew in her garden:— “Through in this town is no apothecary, I shall myself two herbes teache you, That shall be for your health and for your prow, And in our yard the herbs shall I find, The which have of their property by kind, To purge you beneath and eke above, Sire, forget not this for Godde’s love. Ye be full coleric of complexion, Ware that the sun in his ascension, You finde not replete of humours hot, And if it do I dare well lay a groat, That ye shall have a fever tertiane, Or else an ague that may be your bane. A day or two ye shall have digestives, Of wormes, ere ye take your laxatives Of laurel, centaury, and fumetére, Or else of elderberry that groweth there, Of catapuce, or of the gaitre berries, Or herb ivy growing in our yard that merry is. Pick them right as they grow and eat them in, Be merry husband for your father’s kin. Dreade no dream. I can say you no more.” The patient seems threatened with a fever, and the good-wife, after some wholesome advice, doses him with digestives for a day or two, and afterwards with aperients. Laurel would doubtless refer to the leaves of the cherry laurel, which, infused with wine, was an old digestive tonic. Centaury, common in our fields, enjoyed a very early reputation. The herb was so called because it is said that by its virtue the centaur Chiron was healed when the poisoned arrow of Hercules had accidentally wounded his foot. Fumitory, too, was grown by the housewives, and was used as a tonic and a remedy for jaundice. The curative properties of the elder-berry are still recognised as astringent and sudorific, and take a place in domestic remedies. Catapuce is the old name for spurge, a common herb formerly used for its purgative properties; while the gaitre or dogwood-berries, and the herb ivy, were also used as laxative medicines and liver stimulants. In the Canon’s Yeoman’s tale we are introduced to a canon who practises alchemy, and whom Chaucer makes the butt for some keen satire against the followers of that science. “It seems,” says Tyrwhitt, “that some sudden resentment had determined Chaucer to interrupt the regular course of his work in order to insert a satire against the alchemists. That their pretended science was much cultivated about this time, and produced its usual evils, may fairly be inferred from the Act that was passed soon after, whereas it was made a felony to multiply gold or silver above the art of multiplication.” The description of the canon as he joined the procession is somewhat amusing:— “His hat hung at his back down by a lace, For he had ridden more than trot or pace, He hadde pricked like as he were wood. A clote leaf he had laid under his hood, For sweat and to keep his head from heat, But it was joye for to see him sweat. His forehead dropped as a stillatory Were full of plantain or of paritory.” To keep his head cool while riding hard he had placed a clote or burdock leaf, which was formerly used as a poultice, in his hat or hood, a common custom in some parts of the country at the present time. To show the tone of the poet’s mind when he wrote this tale, it may be noted how early the chemical hyperbole is introduced, in comparing the canon’s perspiring forehead to a still which is in operation, filled with plantain, or paritory, an old name for the wallflower. The former plant had a large, thick, juicy leaf, and was formerly used as an astringent, while the wallflower once enjoyed a reputation as an anodyne. The yeoman, in proceeding with the story of his master’s practises, first describes his duties as the philosopher’s man:— “I will speak of our work, When we be there as we shall exercise Our elvion craft, we seeme wonder wise, Our termes be so clergial and quaint, I blow the fire till that mine hearte faint. Why should I tellen each proportion Of things whiche that we work upon, As on five or six ounces may well be Of silver, or some other quantity? And busy me to tell you the names, As orpiment, burnt bones, iron squames, That into powder grounden be full small, And in an earthen pot how put is all.” The poet here describes an old amalgam used in alchemy composed of red lead, bone ash, and iron scales:— “Of the care and woe That we had in our matters subliming, And in amalgaming, and calcining Of quicksilver, called mercury crude, For all our sleightes we can not conclude”. The subliming of mercury was considered a most important process, and was performed with much care. The yeoman then goes on to enumerate other articles and apparatus used by the craft, in a somewhat disjointed manner:— “Yet I will tell them as they come to mind, As bol armoniac, verdigris, borace, And sundry vessels made of earth and glass, Our urinals, and our descensories; Phials, and croslets, and sublimatories, Cucurbites and alembikes eke, And other suche dear enough a leek”. The descensorie was a kind of flask used in distilling _per descensum_, while the croslet was an old name for the crucible. The cucurbite was the retort used in distilling, and the alembike was the still itself. The yeoman then continues:— “Waters rubifying and bulle’s gall, Arsenic, sal-ammoniac, and brimstone, And herbs could I tell eke many a one, As egremonie, valerian, and lunary; And other such if that me list to tarry, Our lampes burning both night and day, To bring about our craft if that we may, Our furnace eke of calcination, And of waters albification”. Egremonoine or agrimony, commonly called liverwort, was used in early medical practice as an astringent tonic, lunary or moonwort (_Botrychium Lunaria_) being possessed of similar medicinal properties:— “Clay made with horse and mannes hair, and oil Of tartar. Alum, glass, barm, wort, and argoil, Rosalgar and other matters imbibing, And eke of our matters encorporing; And of our silver citrination, Our cementing and fermentation, Our ingots, tests, and many things mo’.” Among the other strange articles named, argoil was the potters’ clay used as a luting to close the joints, seal the flasks, and exclude the air. Rosalgar was the ancient name for flowers of antimony, much esteemed by the philosophers. The term citrination refers to the yellow colour, which, when it occurred through chemical action, proved the philosopher’s stone. We next have the alchemist’s creed, and the fundamental principles of the old philosophy:— “I will tell you as was one taught also, The foure spirits and the bodies seven. By order as oft I heard my lord them neven, The first spirit quicksilver called is; The second orpiment, the third y-wis Sal-ammoniac, and the fourth brimstone, The bodies sion eke lo them here anon; Sol gold is, and Luna silver was threpe, Mars iron, Mercury quicksilver, we clepe. Saturnus is lead, and Jupiter is tin, And Venus copper by my father’s kin.” The metallic bodies were described in the works of alchemists by the planet under whose influence they were supposed to operate, and known by the alchemical symbol of that planet. Thus gold is called Sol, represented by the symbol ☉, and copper is termed Venus, represented by the symbol ♀. It appears to have been a custom of the apothecaries from very early times to fill bottles with coloured solutions which were marked with these symbols; thus, a bottle containing a yellow solution signifying gold would be marked ☉, and a red one would be marked ♂, signifying iron. These gradually became a kind of trade sign, and are probably the origin of the coloured globes used as the insignia of the pharmacist or compounder of medicines at the present time.