Lucinda Perrett – Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic

Although very niche, the Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic degree (or Tripos as it’s known in Cambridge) allows very flexible study in the range of papers it offers. Students can choose to focus on purely literature and language or on history, or as is most popular, they can mix the two together. Students have two opportunities to write a dissertation: it is optional in Second Year (Part I of the Tripos), and compulsory in Third (Part II). The beauty of the dissertation is that it allows you to either expand on an area you've already studied or to tackle something new which isn't covered in lectures or supervisions. For my Part II dissertation I chose the route of challenging myself with something I knew nothing about: Anglo-Saxon medicine.

Having always had an interest in early medicine and superstitious beliefs, my dissertation provided the perfect opportunity to study and learn something about the relationship between the two. Writing a dissertation on something you are actually interested in makes a great difference to the entire process; after a summer of reading about medicine, witchcraft and Anglo-Saxon elves, I decided upon my title: ‘To what extent did the Anglo-Saxon Church condemn contemporary medical practices, and for what reasons?’

I began by discussing the two main medical texts I would be using throughout, considering their historical context. The medical compendiums of Anglo-Saxon England are unique in that they were written in the vernacular  (i.e. Old English) rather than in Latin, and survive from a much earlier period than anything we have from the wider British Isles. Part of the importance of these texts is that they provide us with an insight into every-day Anglo-Saxon life and beliefs, commenting upon the social world, rather than the political. Believed to have been written in the late tenth or early eleventh centuries, Leechbook III and the Lacnunga display the Anglo-Saxons' understanding of the human body and the natural world, and the way in which these were thought to be subject to higher, ‘supernatural’ or divine powers.

In an attempt to understand the interplay between Anglo-Saxon medicine and religion, the works of Ælfric of Eynsham and Wulfstan, archbishop of York, arguably two of the most eminent ecclesiastical authors of the late Anglo-Saxon period, must be consulted for their comments upon practices of idolatry and medical healing. The Church had to find ways to address supernatural beliefs regarding illness, and it is thus the combined study of Anglo-Saxon medical texts and contemporary religious writings which truly develops our understanding of contemporary medical practices and the beliefs behind them.

Ælfric's homilies reveal the idolatrous rituals he believed to have been practiced during his own life-time; practices condemned by the Anglo-Saxon Church. With an increase in ‘pagan’ Scandinavians wintering and settling in England at this time, we can say with certainty that there would have been, in some areas, cultural cross-overs. The increase in Scandinavian activity does, to some degree, validate Ælfric's claims regarding the rituals supposedly practiced; we must enquire as to what beliefs lay behind and influenced such rituals and why the Anglo-Saxon Church was opposed to them. The condemnation of particular practices does not necessarily indicate their contemporaneous usage. Ælfric may merely have felt the need to warn against such practices as a consequence of the increasing Viking activity.

The Anglo-Saxon Church did not prohibit care of the sick. There are surviving references to infirmaries within monasteries, but we cannot be sure whether these were simply for sick members of the monastic community or if those belonging to religious orders provided relief for ill laymen. This brings us to the next challenge: attempting to decipher the social standing of Anglo-Saxon doctors. Were these laymen or members of the clergy? Whilst all the people we know practiced medicine were ecclesiastics, a key question to ask here is whether or not it is possible to harmonise the duty of care that members of the religious order had to the sick, with the Old English ‘medical’ charms, which appear not to conform to Christian ideology. The layout of the medical texts certainly suggests that they were designed to be used and referenced, whilst their content is seemingly conflated with teachings of the Church.

The content of these medical compendiums can be divided into three groups: ‘standard’ medical texts; ‘magico-medical’; and ‘Christian’, according to their nature: whether they rely solely on the use of herbs; whether they seem to combine the use of herbs with invocations of supernatural powers (other than the Christian God); and whether they appeal to the powers of Christianity, either solely, or combined with the application of herbs. Using this division and examining them within such categories, allows us to clearly see the vast variation between these remedy or charm ‘types’. The in-depth analysis of these charm types dominated the latter half of my dissertation. The main question I asked here was whether these charms and rituals would have been practised by members of the clergy, or whether, due to their ‘idolatrous’ content, it is more likely that they were performed instead by laymen, perhaps ‘professional’ doctors.

This discussion finally concluded that the Anglo-Saxon Church did indeed condemn certain medical practices: those practices which called upon supernatural powers other than that of the Christian God. The great variation of charms themselves highlights the Church's need to promote liturgical approaches towards medicine; the apparent need to ‘Christianise’ particular charms which otherwise appear idolatrous and the regulations set forth by Ælfric and Wulfstan clearly prohibit any practices that might reflect those deemed as such. We can be sure that the reasoning behind this condemnation was that they did not want the Anglo-Saxon populace to turn to supernatural powers other than that of God. If these powers seemed to work, and heal those afflicted, the Church's authority would surely be jeopardized. With the increase in Scandinavian activity in the tenth century, and the cultural cross-over this seeded, it is no wonder that Ælfric laid so much stress upon the dangers of idolatry within his homilies: he was clearly aware of the threat of the pagan Scandinavian presence to the Church.

Essentially, the Church condemned any practice which did not conform to Christian teachings. It is likely that the Church would not have taken great offence at the ‘standard’ remedies set out above as they do not call upon any spiritual power; those remedies as categorised ‘magico-medical’ are more representative of practices the Church would have condemned as calling upon supernatural aid, and do not focus on the healing powers of the Christian God.

Further Exploration

Leechbook III

Anglo-Saxon collection at the British Museum