Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631) (51 page)

BOOK: Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631)
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By the Time I reached the George Inn I was intensely thirsty, and my Feet were aching from my long Perambulation. I steppt quick thro’ the Doorway. Perhaps I had been too long in Berkshire, for the Establishment seemed at once too crowded and noisy for my Taste, and the dark smoake Reek caught in my Chest. I made my Way to the far Corner, where I hoped I might not be disturbed, and called the Landlord to bring Food and Ale. This done, I sate with my Plate and listened in upon the Conversation of the Students and Physicians who frequented the George, straining my Hearing for any Mention of Dr Hunter.

Perhaps I had timed mine Arrival ill, for although I pricked mine Ears as intently as a Coney apprehending Dogges, I caught no Newes of Dr Hunter, the Progress of his Lithographs, or his Researches. Moreover, none of those Individuals presently conversing in the George was familiar to me from my Time in the Hospitals or anywhere else. I wondered at this; how could the Studentship of St Thomas’s have altered so compleatly in the Months I had been absent from it? Then I remembered, with a small Jolt, that with the Exception of Erasmus, I had never taken the slightest Interest in my Companions upon the Wards; and I realised that I had perhaps been surrounded
by these Fellows for many a Sennight, without exchanging Word with one of them. The Notion saddened me; then I felt, all on a sudden, violent Anger at the Notion that these mediocre Clerks had been able to pursue their medical Careers when I had not; and I fervently wished each one of them at the very Bottom of Hell’s fiery Pit before I remembered that I no longer believed in Hell, nor Devil, neither; and I ground my Teeth, and sate on in fruitless Silence.

After some fifteen Minutes, mine Attention was captured by a Conversation some little Distance to my Right, between two I had thought to resemble the humblest Members of the Clergy and had dismisst therefore as having nothing of Interest to impart, concerning the medical Use of the electric Fluid.

“The electrical Machine,” the Speaker was saying, with such Enthusiasm in his Tone I could easily imagine him to have been an antient Prophet, “may be used cheaply, for ’tis only required to make a Purchase of the one, that may be used over and over; and therefore it may be offered free to the Poor, who cannot afford these Physicians. We may thereby bring about great Relief to the Ills of those Wretches so abominably afflicted with Palsy and with other vile Complaints; and this must be a good thing, and pleasing to the Lord; for once their Bodies are made whole, their Soules may be better able to attend His Word.”

“Aye, they may get Relief, Mr Wesley,” the other said. “But what of the poor Practitioner, who must spend Houres a-cranking th’Wheel and delivering the Shocks? Seems to me that any Benefit to the Poor from that Device will be at high Cost to ourselves. What Proof have we the thing will work as you say? Mayhap their clever Talk is naught but Puff. And how do we know, besides, that the Machine, in all Truth, causeth anything but pure and simple
Pain? ’Tis not God’s Will, I’m sure, that we torment the Poor to make them well.”

“No, no!” answered the other, striking the Table with his Fist. His Passion surprized me, and I jumped. “’Tis verily a Motion of the electric Fluid, from the Machine to the Body of the Afflicted; this Motion, like Lightning from the Clouds, hath a significant Effect within the Body. Lightning may kill a Man, as we all know.”

“Which Fact alone implies,” the other retorted, “that there is little Good that can come from electrical Application.”

“Electricity is not harmful, in itself,” replied the first. “’Tis dangerous only by its Quantity; the Amount that is stored in a Leyden Jar is insufficient to do Harm. For My Self, I am convinced of its Potential; and when ’tis commonly understood, even by our medical Men, who are set against it, that Electricity may relieve Palsy, or cure Blindness or Cancer, I shall be vindicated, to the Glory of Almighty God who hath created it for our Use; and my Detractors shamed.”

Naturally, I had heard, during the Course of mine Habitation in London, of such Electrostatick Machines, and such unscientific Ideas; but, todaye, something in the Quality of mine Attentiveness, or in the Pattern of my Thoughts, caused the Notion suddenly to leap out before me as an Hart from an Hedge: what if the curative Effects of medical Electricity were real, but did not derive from the electric Fluid
per se
, but purely from the intense Pain that such Shocks produced—as the second Speaker had, indeed, suggested. For Pain, I was certain, was a Mode of Thought, a physical Motion in the nervous Web of the Body immediately perceptible and comprehensible to both Body and Mind, in a Way that mere Electricity was not. Could I, by the appropriate Infliction of Pain
upon my Father, encourage the Lesions in his Brain to heal, and cure him of his Paralysis? The Action would not, after all, be very far removed from that of opening up the Curtains and letting in the Light; it implied only an Increase in the Intensity of his Stimulation. Could not it help him? At very least, I thought, it may ease his Condition. And then the Thought struck me that if that were the least, then at most—at most, such a Discovery might not only secure my scientific Reputation, but alter the Course of Medicine for the next Century. If it were indeed the case that Pain itself might be used to heal, that Pain was not necessarily the abominable Scourge of Mankind that commonly ’twas perceived to be, but might be an Aid to Recovery, then what Difference might be made to future Practice of the medical Art! The more I pondered upon this Revelation, the more it seemed to make great Sense to me; for had I not already reasoned that Pain, alone among Human Sensations, had the Capacity to leap betwixt two Persons, when in sufficient Sympathy? Again I thought, as I had done before: ’Tis a Species of Love.

I could have taken this Insight home and applied it straightway to my Father’s Care; but I did not. I applied my Reasoning instead to how it might be proved.

Verily, I must acquire Time in the dissecting Room, I thought. ’Tis now a Matter of most pressing Urgency that I demonstrate causal Relationship betwixt cerebral Damage resultant upon an Apoplexy and the Paralysis of the Limbs that my Father endures. Oh, why hath Dr Hunter not responded to my Letter?

I returned to my Lodging on foot, as I had come, and upon arriving there inquired whether I had received any Correspondence or Visitor, but I had had neither. I was greatly disappointed. I returned to my cramped and musty Chamber and composed a
Letter to Katherine in which I poured out my Frustrations as freely as Oil from a Cask. This accomplished, however, there seemed little I could do except to wait.

On the third Daye after this I received a Letter, but ’twas not from Dr Hunter. It was from Katherine, telling me naught of Bloody Bones or Leonora, but that she herself had injured her right Shoulder whilst reaching for the Sauce; yet I must not worry, for Erasmus had succeeded in clicking it back into place. I was somewhat concerned as to what she could mean by sending me this Intelligence, for she described precisely a minor Subluxation of the Os Humeri. I was naturally familiar with the excessive Pliability of her Joints, and had often wondered at the Ease with which I might have pulled her Limb from Limb, but I had never heard of such an Event’s occurring spontaneously. I thrust firmly from my Mind the wondering Dread that had leapt up at her Newes, and the shameful Thought that it should have been I, not Erasmus, who had put her together again, and forced My Self to conclude against mine Instincts that her Report was greatly exaggerated. I wrote in Reply to scold her for reaching like a Savage across the dinner Table in the first Place.

I continued thus frustrated and helpless for another Sennight before my Forbearance cracked. I wrote again upon the Mondaye Morning to Dr Hunter, asking him wherefore he had not responded to mine earlier Epistles, and alerting him that unless he give me strict Instruction to the Contrary, I should call in at the Little Piazza later in the Daye, to discuss my Proposition with him in Person.

Within one Houre of my dispatching this Missive, I received this Reply.

Dear Mr Hart,

I regret that it is quite impossible for me to attend to you this Afternoon, for I shall have a Class of Paying Students, whose Educational Advancement I must, regretfully, put before yours. Moreover, I am unable to offer you any Manner of Support, Financial or Otherwise, in your Endeavour, despite its very Commendable Aim. I trust that you are still minded of the Caveats I rigorously apply in Respect of Anyone who would seek Entrance to the noble Profession of Surgery. I wish you well, but I must politely request that you do not contact me again until such time as we may both have Reassurance as to your State of Mind.

Dr Wm Hunter

Upon reading this cruel Dispatch, I found my Legs begin to quiver beneath me as intense as if Hades had been about to swallow me. My Knees giving way, I collapsed upon the hard Floorboards of my Chamber. A Puff of black Smoake billowed from the smouldering coal Fire. Dr Hunter would not assist me. Worse, he desired no future Contact, as if I had caught the Plague, or were a Person of such low Character it would be improper for him to associate with me.

Doth Dr Hunter consider me mad? I thought in a Panick. But mine Hypothesis is sound, and my Method also. ’Tis unlike he could have mistook them for the Ravings of a Lunatick, however unwell I might previously have been. Hath he simply dismisst them, doth he dismiss me, because he thinks that I have been mad? I am not! I am a sane Man, as sane as he; and mine Hypothesis is right! Wherefore doth he disown me?

Struggling to my Feet, I threw My Self bodily upon the Door and wrenched it open. I had it in mine Head to disregard Dr Hunter’s Instruction and demand of him what he thought he was
about, to abandon me thus and contemn my Research to rank Oblivion before ’twas even birthed.

I had regard neither for mine Hat, nor my Greatcoat, nor my Cane. I thought nothing of mine Appearance, which must have been at that Moment akin to a Spectre a-rising from the Tomb, the Letter crumpled in my shaking Hand, mine Eyes wild and staring and mine Hair untended; nor did I consider what I ought to say to Dr Hunter when eventually I confronted him. I ran down the Stairs fast as an Hare, and thro’ the Door into the inn Yard, where for the second Time I collided, to my present Shock and Annoy, with Captain Isaac Simmins.

CHAPTER TWO-AND-THIRTY

Simmins, being so much smaller in Stature than My Self, and having not a Fraction of my Momentum, was immediately knocked from his Feet and tumbled upon his soldierly Arse on a Patch of the wet Straw that lay here and there in Heaps about the muddy Flags. The violent Collision having broke my Flight, I stoppt abruptly, to determine who, or what, I had run into. Perceiving at once who it was, I realised that I could not immediately continue in my Pursuit of Dr Hunter, and I was overcome by a Disappointment and Anguish so great my Legs began anew to tremble feverishly. I put out mine Hand to assist Captain Simmins to his Feet, but to mine Horrour perceived that it was shivering. Simmins did not take it.

“Mr Hart,” he said, staring up at me from the Dirt with an Expression of Concern. “Are you in some Difficulty, Sir?”

“No, Mr Simmins,” I replied, but my Voice betrayed me, “I—”

Simmins scrambled to a standing Position. “Mr Hart,” he said. “F-orgive me if I speak out of T-urn, but you have the Appearance of a M-an whose Courage hath sustained a severe and shocking Blow. Wilt return within? Some st-iffening Sp-irit will not do you ill, and if I can offer you any A-ssistance, I put My Self intirely at your D-isposal.”

“I—” I said. I could not continue. I could not say the Words that echoed, more and more loudly, within mine Head: I have been thrown away.

“Come inside, Sir,” repeated Simmins, putting his Fingers gently upon mine Arm and making some tentative Movements toward the inn Doorway. A greyish Rain had begun to fall. Tho’ ’twas near Noon, the Sky was dark. Simmins’ brown Eyes, glistening in the desolate Gloom, seemed suddenly to me to represent the only Points of Light in the whole World, twin Lanthorns like those that adorned the Door of the Collerton Bull, or like marsh-Lights dancing over the slow River. I reached out, and graspt him tight by his Elbow. He did not flinch.

“How is’t,” I said, “that you know precisely when, and how, to comfort me, Isaac? Hast some magical Glass that tells you when I am in Need?”

“No, Mr Hart,” Simmins whispered, his Eyes fixt upon mine. “’Tis but f-ortunate Co-incidence. I have the A-fternoon off.”

The Strength was now returning to my Limbs. I tightened my Grip upon Simmins’ Elbow, seeking to insinuate my Fingertips into that tiny Crevice betwixt the Bone and the Ligament, to make Simmins yelp, to make him pull away. His Greatcoat, however, was
too thick. Simmins only gave a little Smile, and cocked his Head upon one Side, in a Gesture that would have seemed unnatural and improper if performed by any other Man, yet appeared curiously correct in him.

Turning about on the Spot, I pulled Simmins sharply in that Direction in which he had hitherto attempted to guide me, back into the Inn; disregarding everything else, I dragged him into my Chamber, locked the Door, and secreted the Key in my Waistcoat Pocket along with Mary’s Sketch.

“Sit down,” I said.

I did not know precisely what it was that I desired to do to Captain Simmins, except that it was to hurt him viciously, sorely, cruelly. I wanted to exorcise, by making Sacrifice of his strong, beautifull Body, the Demon of heartbreaking Despair that seemed even this very Second hovering above me like a carrion Bird, its black Wings whispering that all mine Ambitions were as Dust.

I looked down at Isaac Simmins, my loyal Friend, beloved Slave, and some darkly hidden Thread in mine Heart seemed to snap. At last, I understood the Nature of the Service he must render me, and its Event seemed as inevitable as Night after Daye. I knew now that the Sensation I felt for him was not carnal Lust, as I had feared it might be; not as it might have been for Annie, or even, to my Shame, for the bound and naked Lady B. It was indeed Excitement; but despite the Spark in my Loins and the Fire in mine Entrails it was an Excitement of an intellectual Kind, brilliant as blazing Sunnelight, clean and sharp and intractable as a very Blade. Damn you, Dr Hunter, I thought. Ah, damn you! I shall prove mine Hypothesis—all mine Hypotheses—without your Patronage.

BOOK: Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631)
4.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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