Page:Once a Week June to Dec 1863.pdf/103

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
July 18, 1863.]
ONCE A WEEK.
93

It rather undermines our theories of health, to find that, notwithstanding the simple and hardy habits of the early countrymen of our princess, acute illnesses of all kinds were tolerably prevalent. The two prevailing diseases were scurvy and fever; although other sicknesses are incidentally mentioned, as jaundice, dropsy, consumption, smallpox, and so forth. Canute the Great died of the jaundice.

The more violent maladies, as madness, convulsions, epilepsy, were regarded as effects of the malice of the devil and of evil spirits (Onde Aander).

Leprosy, which is but a scorbutic affection of extreme and loathsome virulence, was fearfully common. The first hospitals erected by the Danish nation, owed their origin to this disgusting malady; as is amply proved by the first name of these abodes of sickness and contagion being simply “leprosy-houses.” Since those remote centuries, the extension of agriculture, a moderated consumption of fish, and a better regulated dietary altogether, have expelled the leprosy from Denmark.

Even so early as the sixteenth century, this disease had so much diminished in the country, that the emptied hospitals were applied to other purposes.

During the tenth century, the plague made its appearance several times, and was confidently looked for every ten years. That form of it which prevailed there and all over Europe in 1349-50, was known to the Danes by the name of Sorte Daed (the Black Death). Gebhardi and other historians affirm that two-thirds of the inhabitants of Denmark perished by this fearful pest. It was introduced into Jutland by an English vessel, and spared neither men nor animals. The sufferers never lingered more than two days, and died vomiting blood.

The mistletoe berry (Seidou mistel) was a remedy long in vogue for various diseases, and much relied on by the ancient Danes. Snorro attributes its discovery to Odin. It grew on several species of trees besides the oak; and was applied externally as well as internally. Juniper berries, mustard, and wormwood, cured all kinds of pains and colics. Cows’ milk, and the bark of the oak, were very useful in dysentery. The roes of fish were recommended in many maladies. The blood of ferocious animals, such as the bear and the wolf, was imbibed by way of a tonic. Biarke, an ancient hero, caused his ailing friend, Hialté, to suck the blood of a recently-killed bear. Drowned people were recovered, much as in these days, by means of friction and the application of heat.

Warming-pans were known; and bleeding was a common remedy in diseases of repletion. It was usually resorted to in the spring and fall of the year; and certain days were regarded as fortunate or unfortunate for the purpose.

Water ranked among the simple remedies. Baths were established in all the towns of Denmark. That these were usually warm is proved by their name, Badstner, the word bad signifying “to heat.” But, being gradually used for other and wrong purposes, these establishments were submitted to severe inspection, and their numbers gradually diminished.

Certain springs enjoyed the reputation of being medicinal. One in the cemetery of Skandrup, in Jutland, cured diseases of the eye in men and animals. Another at Tyrsback, in Jutland, healed burns and scalds. Qualities that would prevent the plague were attributed to a spring at Brœnshœli, in Zeeland. King Waldemar Christofersen used the water from a spring near Vorddringborg to cure his gout. Every province had its principal spring, to which crowds of the peasantry resorted on the eve of St. John. These spots are still occasionally visited.

There formerly existed in Denmark a famous compilation of medical recipes, called “The Eleven Books,” several volumes of which have survived the ravages of time and neglect, and are to be met with in the cabinets of the curious in such matters. These books used to be distributed over the country, and were handed down as precious bequests to the third and fourth generation. The first court-physician whose name has descended to us was the Abbé Johannes. This learned man attempted the cure of King Waldemar the First, ill of a mortal disease. He prepared for that monarch a peculiar tisane, and enveloped him in linen coverings by way of producing a profuse perspiration, but egregiously failed. Another eminent medical man of those later times was Henri Harpestraeng, who wrote a treatise on the art of healing. This book is still extant, and, being written in the Danish tongue, affords much insight into the early history of that language. Henri Harpestraeng died in 1244. When the Kings of the House of Oldenburg ascended the throne of Denmark, civilisation made a few steps in advance. In 1480 the University of Copenhagen was founded, and medicine represented there; but only moderately cultivated until the Reformation in 1536. Since then the healing art has been sedulously studied in Denmark; and that kingdom abounds with able surgeons and physicians, who will stand a comparison with the medical practitioners of any other educated state.




TO THE ALPS.

Eternal Alps, in your sublime abode
The soul goes forth untrammelled, and, apart
From little self, expands and learns of God.
There, it forgets awhile the busy mart
Where strength, heart, life, are coined with cunning art
To common currency; forgets the strife
For gold, place, power, and fame; the bitter smart
Of disappointment, pain, and sorrow rife,
Where poor humanity walks in the paths of life.

Ye are unsullied by the serpent’s trail
Of sin and death, with all their weary woes;
And ye do minister within the veil
Of an eternity that never knows
The changes of decay. Time overthrows
Man’s proudest glory, but his hand has striven
In vain to mar your beauty; as ye rose,
When form and light to the young earth were given,
Ye stand, with your white brows, by the closed gates of heaven.

Sarah T. Bolton.