Things Better Left Unvisited:
Exactly What It Sounds Like, Mates.
Now, compared to the real "medicine" of the dark ages, Redwall's a modern free health clinic in the most advanced nation in the world, which is... probably not the U.S., actually.
Most of the Abbeybeasts' healthcare consists of decoctions of various beneficial herbs and little poultice mats of equally good herbs for open wounding. Though surgery is never mentioned or described, I assume they have it well enough to not multi-task the surgeries with the shaves. No surgeon-barbers is a good healthcare standard to have if you don't know what gunpowder or electricity is.
I'll be frank, ninety percent of the healing herbs mentioned in the series actually do what Jacques's vague description of their effect describes. Dock leaves, or Rumex Crispis as sciencey people would call it, really is what herbalists refer to as a strong "astringent and detergent". This is a fancy way of saying what you already know from reading at least two Redwall books: It's good for skin afflictions of any kind, bee stings, abrasions, rashes, etc. It was once even used for syphilis symptoms after the Greeks f***ed the Syphilum plant out of existence. Thank you Greeks for your great contribution to medicine.
Another example is the herb Wormwood, or Artemisia Absinthium. Any Americans reading this would know it as Lamb's Quarter. It's an amazing plant able to treat the more severe pains and aches that some weaker herbs can't touch (it's narcotic, though. Don't eat it raw!). It is also one of the herbs Sela the healer used to treat Cluny after he broke about nine bones and got stuck full of bits of wood after Constance chucked him and an unassuming weasel off the wall.
Those would be the good examples. Bravo, Jacques, you portrayed something true to reality! But of course something else would come up, something with the potential to hilariously poison half the inhabitants of Redwall.
They keep using Nightshade the wrong way. Er, I meant the plant, not the vixen with the bad luck to be fated to serve some wad of anger management issues of a ferret.
Now, when nightshade is used correctly, it is diluted, finely measured, and added to another mixture of at least four other healing herbs. The reason it has to be so closely watched is the fact that if a human child eats so much as ONE RAW LEAF, they with die horribly in about an hour or two. Adults can get away with three or four leaves, with the same life expectancy. It's more toxic than rat poison (which is something everyone in the world should stop using due to the evilness of it... seriously, just look up its other uses and cringe as you imagine how dying from that must feel). Yet the Redwallers and to an even greater degree vixen healers use it like it's harmless candy, only mixing it with one or two other plants or not diluting it near enough for it to not send any patient on it into a near-death poisoned stupor.
Perhaps this is why Redwallers keep having trippy dreams about a long-dead hero talking to them in a void, while adder's tongues turn into swords behind him and poetry floats through the air. They couldn't even achieve that at Woodstock.
*Prophetic Visions*
Grissoul the Seer was rocking back and forth sitting behind an odd contrivance made of blown glass. Sawney Rath had been told it was full of magic herbs and strange potions that would aid in the soothsayer's visions becoming clearer. Several Juskabeasts stared in a mildly disturbed manner as the fox seer began.
"I see... the Taggerung. There be a flower... on his paw!" the seer took a break to suck on the thin glass outlet of the suspicious glass object filled with burning herbs and a small amount of water, "Phoooo--Oh, 'tis very fine magic, very fine magic indeed. Er... I see... a hawk and a dove... they are making a bell sound... See the ant run, running over the bones, heeheeheehee!"
"Did nobeast check t' see what's in that...thing?" Sawney turned to Eefera the weasel. The tattooed mustelid shrugged, still watching the stoned vixen delivering her omens.
Now, with that lovely information in mind, consider the implication that no healer, goodbeast at least, seems to have heard of maximum dosage before. Especially with hares, if your patient is unruly (or a vermin, that appears to automatically count as unruly) you are allowed to shut them up with another helping of toxicplant stew, force-fed down their gagging throats. This actually happened in Long Patrol in the most heinous fashion possible with the Painted Ones' chieftain. Observe the malpractice at hand, for this is HOW IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED (with a revision of wording only):
*The Main Hero Randomly Tortures a Prisoner*
"Okie-dokie! We had a battle, so now it's jolly medicine time!" the self-described sweet pretty haremaid Pasque Valerian chirped happily, getting her medicinal gear out of her pack. Two possible patients lay before her: One had possible multiple broken bones and at least one major hemorrhage, the other had a relatively minor cut.
She picked the one that wasn't a rat.
"Ooh, dear, future love interest, I can't believe those scummy tree rats maimed you so!" she shrieked in a hysterical way that made any female's rights activists nearby cringe. When she was done bandaging Tammo's MINOR SCRAPE with herbs and linens she made a grossed-out face and reluctantly decided she'd better keep their helpless captive alive for a bit.
"Oh Godddess..." Shavvakamala, whose name may as well have been "Ooga-Booga" (reread section on British Imperialism), groaned, holding up surprisingly well despite the extreme pain he had to be in. Pasque's voice reeked of overt hatred for her terrified patient as she treated him.
"Waaah, why do I have to be the one to touch the nasty rat? Eeeew!"
"Ouch, b*tchrabbit! That freakin' 'urtsa! At leasta watcha whatcha doin'!"
"I don't freaking care if it hurts--I'm a hare and you're a rat. That means we can do whatever we want with you, wot wot!" the haremaid grinned evilly, "If I'd have been the one to bally well fight you you'd be much worse off! Hold still!"
She proceeded to dump a totally unmeasured and mysterious combination of possibly toxic plant goop in the poor rat's mouth. Gagging at the vile mess, Shavvakamala was dismayed to find that his wrist was broken and that he couldn't reach the War Crimes Commission's contact information he kept in the back of his loincloth.
"Heehee! Let me help!", Tammo, the central hero of the damn story and exalted for his kindness and bravery, then proceeded to discreetly YANK ON THE TREE RAT'S BANDAGES ON HIS FREAKING BROKEN LIMBS, MAKING THE RAT MOAN IN AGONY AND MAKING PASQUE THINK HE NEEDS ANOTHER DOSE OF POSSIBLY POISONOUS PLANT SLUDGE.
"I just love bein' a bally goodbeast!" Tammo winked into the camera, "You can bloody get away with whatever y' bleedin' want, wot wot wot wot wot wot wot!"
"Even medical malpractice on an unarmed bound hostage!" Pasque agreed with a smile.
More may follow. If you like, you may leave an as-of-yet unanswered bit of unusual Redwall yore as a suggestion, but it is more than likely I'll cover the grand majority of oddness and unmentioned unmentionableness.