The Royal Physician

Where there are royals and people of means, they will endeavor to have the best health care. A physician who had a good track record was well worth his fees (and worth giving special dispensations to; consider the example in the 5th paragraph of this post).

Although I would never want to live in the time before modern medicine, I have to admit there were some clever men and women who certainly made a difference in people's lives. One such was John Bradmore, court surgeon to King Henry IV of England. He was from a family of surgeons: his brother Nicholas was a surgeon, and his daughter Agnes married a surgeon named John Longe.

A lot of surgeons in the Middle Ages had side hobbies as metalworkers, no doubt because it was convenient to be able to visualize and manufacture your own instruments. John was a metalworker (and also called a "gamester," suggesting he made jewelry, or used gems for their supposed curative properties (see the use of amethyst here). Facility with metals could arouse suspicion, however.

The Battle of Shrewsbury in 1403 between forces led by King Henry's son Henry (who would become Henry V) and Henry "Hotspur" Percy resulted in an arrow embedded in the prince's left cheek. Higher and it might have taken out an eye and gone into his brain. Lower and it might have hit his throat and he could have bled to death. He survived the blow, but the arrow was going to require careful handling.

Normal procedure for an arrow in the flesh was to push it through and treat the wound; this could not be done without driving it through Henry's skull. The surgeons on hand tried to pull it back out, but either the shaft broke or it came free from the point; either way, the arrowhead was still there at the bottom of a deep wound.

John Bradmore would have been the ideal choice for the procedure. There was one problem: Bradmore was in jail. He was suspected of counterfeiting coins, a serious offense against the Crown. This was no time for standing on principle, however. Bradmore was sent for with haste.

Bradmore wrote one of the first treatises on surgery, called Philomena, and in it he describes his steps to help young Henry. He used the pith from an elder branch wrapped in honey-soaked linen to probe the wound to assess its depth. He then used increasingly larger probes to expand the wound. He designed an instrument (the illustration is one re-creation of it based on his description) that he could insert, twisting a screw to open the tongs and grip the arrowhead. He was able to wiggle the arrowhead back and forth and exact it. He then filled the wound with white wine, laying over it a poultice of bread, flour, barley, and honey. He stayed with the prince, changing the dressing as needed, until Henry recovered.

Bradmore died nine years later, in 1412, but lived on a handsome pension from the King in that time. He deserved it; surviving a wound like that was nearly impossible: septicemia or tetanus would have killed anyone without the extreme care that Bradmore provided. Henry went on to become King Henry V, win the Battle of Agincourt, etc.

Before Henry went on to fight battles and get wounded, he had other pursuits. I want to talk about his youth a little more, and his time at college. See you tomorrow.