Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631) (30 page)

The Atmosphere within the George Inn, tho’, to which Erasmus and My Self retired, was warm and friendly, the Aire suffused by a wispy Haze of tallow-Light and the red Echo of the slowly burning Coals. The Place was busy; whilst Erasmus sought the Attention of the Landlord, I elbowed a Path thro’ to a Table beside the Fire, and with a Nod and a few subtile Intimations, secured Possession of it. As we dried ourselves out over a brisk Dinner and a shared Jug of warmed dark Ale, Erasmus told me of his Fancy to take up a Position as a Ship’s Surgeon bound for Kingstown, where he meant to set himself up as Physician to the Planters.

“Wherefore should you wish to do that?” I asked, sitting upright in my Surprize. “I have heard that the Climate is unforgiving, and the People not at all friendly. You would do better, Erasmus, were you to enter Business here as a man Midwife. You have a most confiding Manner, and the Ladies are soothed by you.”

“Oh,” said Erasmus. “But then I should be forced to compete with the good Doctor and his Ilk, who put me to Shame. I should have to practise outside of London to have any Trade at all; and I had leifer not be a country Surgeon, setting gentlemanly Splints all my Life. Dr Oliver hath intimated that he could mayhap find me a Position in St Luke’s, but I have little fancy for that. I shall hie me to the Plantations, and at least see something of the World.”

“Yet,” I persisted, “’twill be a Wrench to leave behind your native Soil.”

“A small Wrench,” confesst Erasmus. “Truly, Tristan, I have little
Reason to remain. I have always known that I would have to make mine own Way in the World. My Father told me when I was six that he should leave his Business to mine older Brother, and naught for me. I am glad. I should have made a poor Apothecary.” Erasmus took a long Swig of his Ale, and then, finding that he had emptied his Tankard, lifted the brown Jug and refilled it, foaming, to the Brim.

“You have poured that too quick,” I said.

Erasmus smiled, and put his Mugg gently down to rest upon the Tabletop until the Storm within it should abate. “You, I think,” said he, “have more Reason to stay than your Expectations.”

“How so?”

“There is a Woman, is there not?”

I stared at him. “Egad. How did you know?”

“Your Features, Sir, are most expressive. Oft-times have I watched them soften and your Gaze become quite distant from the thing in front of you. Yours is the Countenance of a Man in Love, I’ll wager.”

My first Reaction to Erasmus’ Words was to resolve better to control my Physiognomy in the Future. But as I opened my Mouth to speak, the Tavern’s cellar-Man, his Expression as meek as his Action was disruptive, made impossible mine immediate Denial by the sudden rattling Discharge of half a Scuttle’s worth of Coals into the Fire. The red Gleam vanished, and an heavy Bloom of Smoake billowed outwards from the Grate. I coughed violently, and in no uncertain Terms berated him for his idiot Clumsiness.

Then, in the Moment’s Grace provided by this Irruption, I realised that altho’ I had spoken to no living Soule about mine Understanding with Katherine, that as far as I had Power over the
Secret, it was compleat, I longed to speak of her to anyone who might listen. Erasmus Glass, I then perceived, was so wholly separate from the Affair that telling him would risk nothing. Moreover, he was naturally reserved, and ill disposed to Gossip even when the Case affected his own Interest. He was, in fact, the perfect Confidant; had I created him to the Purpose he could not have been better.

So, as the Flames began to overpower and then to consume their fresh Fuel, I began the Tale; and over the Passage of the next two Houres I revealed the intire Story—leaving out only some few vicious Details involving Blood and Pain that I knew would be jarring to Erasmus’ Sensibilities. I told him of Katherine’s young Age, and her Relationship to the Rector, and the potent Attraction that had sprung up, so unexpectedly, between us. The Inn was all but empty by the Time I had reached mine End, and the Fire had burned again quite low. Erasmus was somewhat shocked by my Revelation that I must keep the Truth from my Father.

“Do you fear that he will cut you off?” he asked. In the paltry Candlelight, his grey Eyes seemed darkened Wells, and his Voice was serious.

“I am unsure,” I told him. “I think not, but I dare not attempt it for another Reason. There is no Engagement yet in Place and it would be the easiest thing for my Family to have Katherine hidden where I cannot find her. She is almost friendless; her Mother seems to have little Appreciation of her Value, and I have no Knowledge at all of her other Uncle. Certainly, the Ravenscrofts would sooner cast her off than lose my Father’s Approbation.”

“’Tis difficult,” Erasmus said, with a Grimace. “You have my Sympathies, Tristan.”

I thanked him honestly for that; then, since it was nearly eleven, and we were both expected back at Bart’s in the Morning, we departed from the George, and headed thro’ the dismal Streets to our individual Lodgings as rapidly as we could.

Six Dayes after Christmas-tide, it being the Opinion of the Government that it could alter Time by legal Decree, the Yeare of our Lord seventeen fifty-one ended, to the great Confusion of the Uneducated; it was barely two hundred and eighty-one Dayes old, and ought not to have died so soon. The only immediate Consequence to me was that, as I had been born in late January, I had now seemingly to have gained an extra Yeare, and should by the reckoning of the calendar have turned two-and-twenty instead of one. Altho’ I knew for certain that this clerkish Dislocation of Time by Human Agency could have no Effect upon Reality, I felt strangely uncomfortable, for it seemed to me as if my coming of
Age had taken place in a Time that was, in some peculiar Manner, outside of itself—and so I perceived that I had in some bizarre Sense simultaneously attained, exceeded, and failed to attain my Majority.

Because I had not, despite my Sister’s Exhortations, returned to Berkshire for Christmas, I had not seen my Father or any Members of my Family since the previous June. Upon my Birthdaye I received, in addition to a very lengthy Epistle from Jane, a cursory Missive from my Father explaining his Intention to settle upon me an Allowance of four hundred Pounds a Yeare for as long as I should choose to remain in London, unmarried, and without the Necessity for any greater Sum. I was staggered by this, and a Kernel of Shame began to germinate within me as I considered mine Inability to face my Father. I regretted the cowardly Spirit that had prevented me from so doing, for it broke clear upon me now that my Father, despite his apparent Reluctance to have aught to do with me, was neither Villain nor Ogre. I remembered his muttered Words concerning me to mine Aunt in the Carriage, and I began to question whether, in Truth, we were not more alike than I had realised.

My Work about the Hospitals grew ever more exacting, and mine Houres ever longer. I did not consider My Self overworked, for the simple Fact that I was about the Practice of Medicine thrilled me beyond any Thought of Tiredness. But I had noticed that I could no longer recognise, with any Clarity, the Faces of my Patients. I told no one this.

I was engaged, very late one Afternoon, about resetting the dislocated Wrist of an Apprentice who had fallen from a Scaffold, when Erasmus came to find me. I had been, as usual, about the Hospitals since the early Morning, and mine Eyes and Head were
devilish sore, but I greeted him as affectionately as I could, and asked what was the Matter.

“Dr Oliver,” he said, “is this Evening to perform a Trepanation upon a Melancholic who hath intirely lost his Reason, and he sent me to inquire whether you might wish to witness the Operation.”

“Why,” I exclaimed. “I should be astonished if Melancholy, which is surely a Disorder of the Mind, will be cured by an Operation.”

“Your general Instinct is sound,” Erasmus answered. “But Dr Oliver believes that this Man’s Condition hath its Onset in an heavy Blow to the Head he sustained some Yeares since, which hath resulted in the Presence of mortified Tissue beneath the Cranium, that he hopes Trepanation shall remove.”

Immediately, I was reminded of Nathaniel, and his Story of the Labourer who could not perceive Left. Verily, cerebral Damage doth affect the Mind, I thought. Dr Oliver’s Hypothesis may not be incorrect. Erasmus, mistaking my Preoccupation, said: “If you do not wish to watch, Mr Hart, then do not come.”

“I have not said so,” I replied quickly. “I would not miss it for the World.”

Erasmus laughed, and answered that he had thought that would be the Case. I finished bandaging the Child, released him into the Care of his Master, and hurried after Erasmus.

I should have expected that the Procedure would be carried out at the Bethlem, or at St Luke’s in Windmill Street, which was the new mad-House. This Operation, however, I supposed for Dr Oliver’s Convenience, and certainly to mine immense Relief, took Place in the Theatre at St Thomas’s.

I had not witnessed a Trepanation before, and I was greatly excited. The Operation was now rarely performed, even for an Epilepsy, for the foolish Superstition that had maintained that
such Disease resulted from the Imprisonment of Demons and fuliginous Vapours in the Skull had, thankfully, been overturned. However, it was still undertaken on Occasion where there was Cause to believe that such a mental Disorder might have a treatable, mechanical, Origin. I was not surprized, however, that the Surgeon should be Dr Oliver, whom I knew to be profoundly interested in the Question of how Lunaticks might have their lost Wits restored.

Yet how, I thought, as I watched Dr Oliver, with the Assistance of Erasmus, secure the unprotesting Man upon the Table, and prepare the three-armed Trephine for its Application, can Melancholy result from morbid Tissue? It is not like an Epilepsy, that manifests in violent Shaking of the physical Body. Neither is it like a Paralysis, that may readily be assumed due to Damage to a Nerve. Nor even is it a Distemper of the Senses. Unless verily there be some Truth in the Doctrine of the Humours, it must be a Disease that is intirely mental, having more to do with a Man’s Soule than Matter upon his Cerebrum. Yet Nat’s Labourer had no physical Incapacity—and what of mine own nervous Illness, that seemed so like to very Madness? Had that, as I had pondered, even hoped, its Origin in some Insult to my Brain of which I had lost all Memory? Where doth the Body stop, and Mind begin? Doth the one become the other? Was I poisoned? Was I mad? Or was I evil?

Mine Head began to spin; I sate down, and for the next half-Houre endeavoured to give my full Attention to the Scene unfolding before me upon the operating Table as Dr Oliver painstakingly removed a circular Section of the Man’s Skull about the Diameter of a Sovereign, and having exposed the thickened and pulsating Meninges of the Brain, endeavoured to stem the Bleeding from
the Scalp. But my Concentration was elusive. My Ribs felt as if they had sealed up around mine Heart, and the exhausted Organ fluttered desperate as a Goldfinch in a Flask. I wished that I could have had something to eat before I had arrived. I wished that I could have gone home, to have slept the Sennight out.

I stumbled out of St Thomas’s at perhaps ten o’ the Clock, and took a Chair all the Way back to Bow Street. I would have eaten when I arrived, but in the Event Sleep was too quick for me, and I succumbed to Slumber in Mr Fielding’s largest Armchair, where I remained until Midnight, when Mary chased me off to Bed.

The following Fortnight I passt in such a frantick Whirl of Work, much of which was about the dirty Wards, that I clean forgot the trepanning Operation and would never have learned its Outcome had not Erasmus, one Evening in the Shakespeare, remarked that the Patient was great improved. I found these Newes staggering, and plain said so. I did not tell Erasmus, however, that the mad Man’s Face and Name were both as absent from my Memory as if he had never been possesst of either. He, like all the Cases I had witnessed and worked upon, had seemingly become but an ordinary nothing.

Katherine, to whom I did confess this strange Phenomenon, wrote that she was afraid that I was working My Self sick; but I did not heed her Plea to cut mine Houres.

Mid May, my Sister wrote to tell me that she was with Child and longing to see me before her Confinement. I tried to respond to her Newes in an encouraging Vein, but in the Event could think of naught to ask, save whether she had made out her Will, so I gave up the Attempt.

It being a Sundaye, I had taken a few Houres away from my
Work about the Hospitals for Church; and with Katherine’s Concern for mine Health lying guilty on my Mind, I had also fashioned for My Self a Distraction, via the Person of Lt. Simmins, whose Address I had easily found out from Dr Oliver’s Associate, and who seemed, to my continuing Wonderment, extreamly pleased to renew our Acquaintanceship. Over the past Fortnight we had exchanged a few Letters, and the Conversation seeming friendly, we had arranged to meet in Person that Afternoon.

Simmins was settled with several other young Lobsters upon an Inn beneath the Sign of the Dragon near Hampstead. This Inn sate on the main Road into London, and it was to my Surprize that I learned that despite his Emblem the Landlord had put up but feeble Resistance when these young Pillars of the Nation had been foisted on him. Certainly, he must have regretted them, for they did not bring in anything like to the amount of Money their Billet surely cost him.

I arrived at the Dragon shortly before Noon on Sundaye, and finding Simmins not yet returned, waited in the Tavern opposite the open Door, and took a light Repast, to the Landlord’s Delight; tho’ not to mine own. The Inn put me in mind more of the Bull than any London Establishment, and I thought for a Moment wistfully of Nathaniel. Its low Ceilings were thick with the brown Residue of pipe Smoake; the plastered Walls glittered with horse-Brasses; upon the still Aire lingered the fulsome Scents of Beer and Human Sweat. The Daye being chill, I sate My Self in the shaddowed Recess of a leather Armchair, by the smouldering Fire, and from this Location I watched the Activity in the inn Yard. Simmins returned shortly after Noon, by which Time I was almost finished with my Meal. I heard him before I saw him; that Hesitation, an Extension of Sound at the Beginnings of his Words, unmistakable,
despite the Yeares that had passed since I had heard it. He was laughing with one of his fellow Officers over the Reason he had been delayed.