CHAPTER XVIII. Beginning of the Arab Renaissance Under the Caliphs of Bagdad

BEGINNING OF THE ARAB RENAISSANCE UNDER THE CALIPHS OF BAGDAD

Toward the end of the sixth century A. D. the prospects for the perpetuation and further evolution of Greek medicine looked decidedly dark. In Rome and in the larger Italian towns of the Roman Empire, physicians were doubtless still to be found, but they must have led very precarious lives and they certainly could not have had any leisure or opportunity for scientific work. In these earlier years of the Middle Ages the monks conducted the larger part of whatever medical practice was required in the districts in which the monasteries were located. In Byzantium, also, the outlook at this period of Roman history was very unfavorable; and nowhere else, as a matter of fact, would it have been possible for the casual observer to discover any signs that indicated the approach of a revival in the study of the sciences. And yet, even at that seemingly darkest moment in the history of medicine, there were forces at work which would soon revive these precious seeds of Greek knowledge, and, after transplanting them to a richer soil, cause them to produce even better fruit and in larger quantities than ever before.

The rulers under whose auspices the first steps in the great Arab Renaissance were taken, belonged to what is known as the Abbaside Dynasty, the founder of which was Abbas (566–652 A. D.), the uncle of Mohammed. His descendants ruled as Caliphs of Bagdad, on the eastern bank of the Tigris, for many centuries (from 750 A. D. onward). Almansur, the second Caliph of this dynasty, felt a very strong desire that his people, the Arabs, should acquire knowledge of all the useful branches of learning, and more especially of medicine and philosophy; and accordingly, as the Greeks were then universally admitted to be the only nation which possessed that knowledge, and as scarcely any scientific books written in the Arabic language existed at that early date, he directed all his efforts to the finding of Greek originals and of the men qualified to translate them into Arabic. Already as early as the sixth century A. D., Sergius, a Christian of Ras el Ain, had translated a considerable number of Greek treatises into the Syrian tongue, but his work was found to be of an inferior character, and for this reason could not be utilized to any great extent in the present undertaking. Honein (ninth century), one of the most eminent scholars of the Arabic Renaissance, revised a few of these translations and thus rendered them of some service; but by far the larger part of this gigantic task of creating Arabic versions of the classical works of Greek literature, was performed during the ninth century, a period during which the reign of the Arabs extended from the Ganges on the east to the Atlantic on the west. By the end of the eighth century the work of translating had advanced only to the point of producing a single treatise on medicine and a few relating to alchemy; but before the ninth was completed, the Arabs had in their possession, in the form of translations, nearly all the scientific literature of Greece, and, more than this, they could boast that not a few men belonging to their own nation had already become celebrated as scientists of the very first rank.

The medical school at Djondisabour at the time (765 A. D.) when the Caliph Almansur decided to carry out the ambitious scheme which he had been meditating, was practically under the control of a family of Nestorian Christians. A large hospital formed the nucleus of the institution and furnished all the material needed for familiarizing the student with the different diseases and injuries commonly encountered in that part of the world and with the methods of treatment which, as long experience had shown, offered the best chances of affording relief or effecting a cure. It was a clinical school of a most practical type, and at the head of it was George Bakhtichou, who had been recommended to Almansur as the physician best fitted to take responsible charge of the new work which was then about to begin. George Bakhtichou was not the organizer of the school at Djondisabour, but simply its head at the time of which I am now speaking. Medicine had been taught there, it appears, since the early part of the seventh century A. D. The languages commonly spoken in that town were the Syrian, the Arabian and the Persian, and probably only a few persons understood Greek. The Caliph believed that, as the first and most important step in the new work, medical text books, translations of the works of the best Greek physicians, should be provided with as little loss of time as possible, and George Bakhtichou agreed with this opinion entirely. The latter, therefore, upon the urgent invitation of the Caliph, left the hospital at Djondisabour in the charge of his son, Bakhtichou ben Djordis, and went to Bagdad in company with two of his pupils, Ibrahim and Issa ben Chalata. He was well received at Court, partly because he displayed a readiness to further the Caliph’s educational plans, and partly also because he was promptly successful in relieving him of a distressing dyspepsia. Not long after he had arrived in Bagdad, however, he was himself taken ill and was obliged to return to Djondisabour. Before his departure the Caliph presented him with a gift of 10,000 pieces of gold. Issa ben Chalata, one of the two pupils whom George Bakhtichou had brought with him to Bagdad, was left behind to look after the Caliph’s health. He proved faithless to his trust, however; and, as soon as it was discovered that he was selling his supposed influence with the Caliph, he was not only dismissed in disgrace but all his property was confiscated. After this disagreeable experience the Caliph did his best to induce George to return to Court, but the latter was then unable to travel, owing to the injuries which he had received from an accidental fall. His pupil Ibrahim went to Bagdad in his place.

It is known that George Bakhtichou personally took an active part in the work of translating Greek medical treatises into Arabic, but it has not yet been ascertained which books in particular were assigned to his care in the distribution of the different tasks. Ossaibiah, the Arabian historian, makes the statement that the work of translating Greek medical treatises was entirely under the control and guidance of George Bakhtichou; and in the “Continens” of Rhazes frequent mention is made of the latter’s name. All of which confirms the belief that, at the beginning of the Arabic Renaissance, George Bakhtichou was in reality the head and front of the movement, so far at least as medicine was concerned. When he became too old and infirm to continue his attendance at the Djondisabour hospital, he intrusted the management of that institution to Issa ben Thaherbakht, who was one of his best pupils. He died in 771 A. D.

In 786 A. D., Haroun Alraschid succeeded to the caliphate; and not long afterward, on the occasion of some temporary illness, he requested Bakhtichou ben Djordis, the son of George and his successor in the work of translating from the Greek, to consult with the regularly appointed physicians of the Court in regard to the nature and proper treatment of his malady. The consultation took place at the appointed time, and one of the Caliph’s physicians, thinking that he might catch Bakhtichou in a trap, submitted to him a specimen of urine which purported to come from the Caliph, but which in reality had been obtained from a beast of burden. Alraschid, who knew of the deception, asked:--

“What remedy would you administer to the person from whom this urine came?”

Bakhtichou, who had been clever enough to recognize the true character of the specimen, replied promptly: “Some oats, your Majesty.”

The Caliph laughed heartily over the episode, loaded George’s son with presents, and appointed him the chief of all his physicians,--the first instance among the Arabians, it is said, of the appointment of an Archiater.

Bakhtichou ben Djordis was the author of a collection of short medical treatises, and he also wrote, for the special use of his son Gabriel, a medical “remembrancer.” He was as highly esteemed by the Arabs as his father had been before him. The date of his death is not known.

Gabriel, the son of Bakhtichou and a grandson of the famous George Bakhtichou, was the most distinguished member of this remarkable family of physicians. In the year 792 A. D., five years after the consultation mentioned above had taken place, Gabriel was sent by his father to give medical advice to Jafar, the son of the Grand Vizier. The treatment which he recommended proved to be entirely successful, and, pleased with the result, Jafar soon afterward had an opportunity to speak to Haroun Alraschid of Gabriel as the physician best fitted to effect a cure in the case of his own favorite wife, who, in a fit of yawning, had dislocated her shoulder. The Arabian physician had tried friction, different sorts of ointments, and manipulations of every imaginable kind, but all in vain. The dislocation still persisted. When Gabriel arrived on the scene he told the Caliph that he could bring the shoulder back into place provided no offense would be taken at the means which he was about to employ. Alraschid gave the desired promise and Gabriel made a movement as if he were about to lift up the bedclothes. Instantly the patient, through a natural sense of modesty, stretched out her dislocated arm to keep the bed-covering in place. “There! she is cured!” exclaimed Gabriel, and such indeed was the truth. The sudden movement of the limb had reduced the dislocation.--It only remains for me to add that the sum of 500,000 drachmae was paid to Gabriel by Haroun Alraschid for his successful treatment.

Some surprise having been expressed by the Caliph’s relatives that he should display such extravagant generosity toward a Christian, he replied: “The fate of the empire is bound up in my fate, and my life is in the hands of Gabriel.”

Gabriel Bakhtichou died in the early part of the ninth century, not long after the Caliph El Mâmoun had started on his expedition against the Greeks (828 A. D.). He was the author of several medical treatises, and, like his famous grandfather, George Bakhtichou, he did everything in his power to promote the work of translating from the Greek into the Arabic. Gabriel’s brother, also named George, and his son Bakhtichou ben Djabriel were both of them physicians of considerable distinction. The latter accompanied El Mâmoun on his expedition against the Greeks. It is a fact worth noting here, that throughout this war the Caliph never for a moment lost sight of the great national scheme of education which his predecessor Almansur had inaugurated and which was still engaging the time and best efforts of many scholars and copyists in Bagdad. Whenever he captured a city he insisted upon the delivery to him of whatever copies of scientific treatises its citizens might possess. But even these extraordinary methods of securing the books which they needed did not satisfy the Arabs, their eagerness to accumulate as many text books as possible being insatiable. Accordingly, from time to time, one of the translators--some member of the Bakhtichou family, for example--would be sent to the different cities of Syria and Persia to search out and get possession of as many Greek manuscripts as possible. Thus, Honein is reported to have said: “I have not been able to procure a complete copy of Galen’s ‘Demonstration.’ Gabriel endeavored to find a copy, but did not succeed; and I myself hunted through Irak, Syria, Palestine and Egypt, but was at last only partially successful. I found one-half of the text in Damascus.”

The work of translation was kept up with unremitting zeal until the middle of the ninth century (reigns of El Ouatocq and of Moutaouakkel).

Among the physicians who received their training at the Djondisabour medical school the Bakhtichous were not the only ones who attained considerable distinction. John Mesué the Elder, for example, who was a Nestorian Christian and the son of an apothecary, became more famous than any member of that family. He not only did his full share of the translating, but he was also a prolific author and a very faithful and efficient teacher, Galen’s writings furnishing the basis of his lectures. He lived to be about eighty years of age, his death occurring in 857 A. D. Most of his writings have been lost. Of the twenty or more which have come down to our time those bearing the following titles deserve to receive special mention:--

Book of Fevers. On the Different kinds of Food and Drink. On Venesection and Scarifications. On Tubercular Leprosy. On Abnormal Prominence of the Abdomen. On Purgative Remedies. On Baths. On the Regulation of Diet. On Poisons and Poisoning. On Vertigo. On the Treatment of Sterility. On Dentifrices and Gargles.

Sabour ben Sahl, whose death occurred in 869 A. D., was also connected with the hospital at Djondisabour. He was distinguished on account of his special knowledge of the properties of simple drugs and their combinations. He was also the author of the exhaustive formulary known as Acrabadin Kebir--probably the first one of its kind, says Le Clerc, of which history makes any mention. This formulary or dispensatory--of which a large and a small edition existed--was in general use in all the hospitals, physicians’ offices, etc., of that time.

Still another most distinguished physician and author of medical treatises received his training at the Djondisabour school--viz., John, son of Serapion (or Serapion the Elder, as he is commonly called). He lived about the middle of the ninth century of the Christian era and wrote entirely in the Syrian language, but at a later date his works were all translated into Arabic. The smaller of his two most important treatises, and at the same time the one which appears to have attracted the most attention, was called the Kounnach. About the middle of the twelfth century A. D. it was translated into Latin by Gerard of Cremona, and named by him Breviarium; a still later translation received the name of Practica. The first part of this smaller treatise (the Breviarium or the Practica) is divided into six books, the titles of which are as follows:--

1. On Nodosities, Ophiasis, and Alopecia. 2. On the Falling Out of the Eyelashes. 3. On the Mild Form of Tinea, the form which resembles Favus. 4. Scaly Affections of the Head and of Other Parts of the Skin. 5. Lice of the Head and of the Body. 6. Headache caused by Exposure to the Sun; and other forms of Cephalalgia.

Salmouïh ben Bayan, a Christian, was the last one of the pupils of the Djondisabour school who attained considerable celebrity as a physician. When the Caliph Motassem came to the throne in 833 A. D., he appointed Salmouïh his personal physician and soon became very much attached to him; leaning upon him more and more for advice in all sorts of troubles. Salmouïh was the author of several medical treatises, but they have all been lost, not even their titles are now known to us. When dying (early in 840 A. D.), he sent word to the Caliph not to put his entire trust in the medical judgment of Mesué if he should find it necessary to call upon the latter for advice in the event of a serious attack of illness. This celebrated physician was universally admitted to be most learned in everything relating to medicine, but there were many of his professional brethren--and Salmouïh was among the number--who did not esteem him so highly as a practitioner. “The most important thing in medicine,” said the latter, “is to appreciate correctly the intensity of the disease, and that is something which Mesué, with all his learning, is not able to do.” However, despite the death-bed warning given by Salmouïh to Motassem, this ruler died less than two years later from the effects of the treatment which Mesué the Elder, who had been called in to prescribe for his Highness, had ordered.

In addition to the pupils already mentioned there are a few others who, according to the testimony of Le Clerc, reflected some credit upon the institution in which they acquired their medical training. But enough has already been said, I believe, to establish the fact that, in this remote Persian province of Khorassan (to the west of the country known to-day as Afghanistan), there existed during the eighth and ninth centuries of the present era a most efficient medical school, which was entirely managed by Nestorian Christians, and which sent out into the world trained physicians of the very highest type.