Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631)

by Wolf, Jack

  When I was a Child I used to flee from her Visitations to the Ha-ha and the High Field. If she caught me running, I would have to suffer a lengthy Chastisement for all my Sins, which she plainly considered it her Duty to discharge. One Afternoon, when I was seven and still in Mourning for my Mother, she made me stand still with my Back against the chill drawing Room Wall for three Houres, while she played Cards with my Sister and her own Son before the flaming Fire.

  Somedaye, I thought, my Mother will come back, and you shall never come here; no, not even for one Houre.

  James Barnaby, my Cousin, was seven Yeares older than I, and when I was a small Boy I had considered him, as I was encouraged by mine Elders to do, a serious, high minded young Man. As I grew older, I revised mine Opinion. I now judged Barnaby a canting Hypocrite of the worst Kind, dresst like a Clergyman from his Hat to his Shoes, with an open Prayer Book in one Hand and a shut Purse in the other. He spoke loftily of his Longing to take Orders and enter the Church, but I believed that he had no real Intent of ever turning pious Semblance to useful Truth. The Fact was that his Father had left him more than tolerably wealthy, and a small country Living would have provided little Increase to his Income whilst adding hugely to his Work – which at present consisted of nothing more taxing than censuring others as and when he wished.

  I was annoyed that Barnaby was to marry Jane, but as I pondered, I finally had to admit that there seemed some Sense in the Match. My Sister had been a placid Child, generally kind, and hard to dislike—although I had tried. She had grown into a fashionable young Lady who took her Reputation very seriously. The general Cast of her Physiognomy resembled that of our Father; tho’ her Skin would never achieve a fashionable Pallour, and she was become very fond of white Lead. Once her Judgement was fixt, it rarely changed, and her Opinion of Barnaby retained the favourable Impression it had taken in her Girlhood. On Barnaby’s Part, although it piqued me much to recognise it, there appeared a genuine Esteem for Jane, which, I hoped, might in Time make him shed some of his unappealing Habits. They have Potential to make each other happy, I thought, if they but choose to fulfil it. I was surprized by how much this mattered to me.

  * * *

  So James Barnaby and mine Aunt became Frequent Visitors, but altho’ I swallowed the Reason, I found the Reality of their near daily Presence impossible to stomach.

  I recalled my Dream of constructing mine own Laboratory. I knew, naturally, that I could not yet devote any great Amount of Space or Expense to this Adventure, for my Father was as fit as a Flea and I was many Yeares away from mine Inheritance. Nevertheless, I thought, with no Tutors to waste my Time, I might spend as many Houres as I wished about the noble Art of Scientific Inquiry into the Processes of Life. I had no intention of beginning my Study upon living Animals, for I felt certain that such Attempt would only end badly. I had, however, easy Access to dead ones, and I knew that a few Months devoted to the Tissues of Rats, Coneys, Foxes, and Crows would teach me more about the animal Form than a whole Lifetime of Reading.

  I realised very quick that I could not fit even a small Laboratory within my Bedchamber, large as it was, and so, after much Consideration, I demanded the Key to my Mother’s old sitting Room from Mrs H. This Chamber, in which I had spent many happy Houres in mine Infancy, was a peaceful Spot, directly above my Father’s Library and well away from the Traffick of the House, and but one Staircase from my Bedchamber; and for a few Months after my Mother’s Death, after my Father had the Room shuttered and the Door locked, I had sometimes crept out of my Bed and curled up in the Hallway against the old Wood.

  To my Amazement, in View of the Insight I had experienced into her Character regarding me, Mrs H. refused even to consider it. Seeing that I had to let my sick Cat yowl, I threw My Self into a methodic Fit of Melancholy that lasted for a Sennight. This proved efficacious; Mrs H. agreed at least to ask my Father’s Permission to give the Key into mine Hand. He refused.

  I was very annoyed by this second, more significant, Denial. I began to ponder whether I aught to make direct Application to my Father for the Key, but the Infrequency and Coldness of our Dealings made me reluctant to speak to him upon anything at all. I therefore decided to cultivate my Sister’s Approval and Assistance. Jane had always been our Father’s Favourite.

  I dedicated August to Jane’s Society and Comfort, and to my Delight, this Method too met with general Success. At the end of the Month I applied to her, as subtily as I could, to ask our Father for the Key to our Mother’s Room for me.

  “Dearest Sister,” I said, “you know how our Father’s Intractability in this Matter of his Grief causes unpleasant Comment among our Acquaintances. I think ’tis Time for him to shew some proper Sensitivity to your Position. It will not do, dear Jane, to have him appear at your Wedding like an antient Crow, casting a Shaddowe over all our Merriment.”

  Jane seemed convinced—and a little upset, though she tried not to shew it. “I believe,” she said, “’twill be best if I ask our Aunt to speak on your Behalf—then it shall seem the Idea comes from her. He hath always been better inclined to listen to her than to me.”

  So Jane prevailed upon our Aunt, and that redoubtable Woman went to my Father with the Suggestion that he should at last give over his interminable Mourning and surrender my Mother’s sitting Room to me. Jane and I followed in secret, and waited, Ears presst to our Father’s library Door, for his Reaction.

  “Young Master Hart,” said mine Aunt, forcefully, “is grown into as respectful and as excellent a Son as anyone could wish; and that you don’t see it, John, is your Folly. He hath put all his wicked Ways behind him—” (I blinked) “—and I am sure he is intirely deserving of his own Chambers.”

  My Father muttered something that I could not catch.

  “Eugenia is dead!” Aunt Barnaby retorted. “Dead and gone to Heaven, God rest her Soule, these ten Yeares; and I can tell you, Brother, she would never want to think that you would deny her Son and spoil her Daughter’s Wedding for her Memory’s Sake.”

  A second indistinguishable Response from my Father.

  “How now?” shouted mine Aunt. “Not spoiled? I am surprized your Children can stand to be seen in Church with you at all, still in your Black whilst they are all in blue and grey. Enough is enough! Master Hart is out of Mourning, and so should you be! Let him have the Key. Call your Taylor and have him sew you something chearful in brown or burgundy!”

  A muttered Answer, followed by a very long Pause.

  “Well!” said mine Aunt at last. She sounded, to mine Ears at least, still surprized. “I am grateful to think that you are shewing a little Sense at last, John. The Room will need clearing out, and re-furnishing to a Gentleman’s Taste. The Lady’s Furniture that is there will do very well for Jane.”

  I smiled at Jane, delighted. She smiled back, and unexpectedly caught Hold of my right Hand in her own and lightly squeezed it. A long Second passed; then Noises within my Father’s Study alerted both of us to Aunt Barnaby’s Re-appearance. We scattered like affrighted Hares.

  * * *

  Mrs H. organised the Removal of my Mother’s old Furniture and set a Team of Housemaids to Work cleaning the Residue of ten Yeares from the Woodwork and the Mantelpiece. I watched these Removals with an odd Detachment. My Mother was neither in the Chairs, nor in the Draperies.

  Mine Aunt arranged the Purchase, from Oxford and London, of certain scientific Instruments, of which I had given her a List, and one or two Items of Furniture that could not be requisitioned from other Rooms in the House; and my Father, I believe, signed the Bills without Comment. The Servants moved these Furnishings into Place as they arrived, under my strict Supervision, and I personally then set about moving my Books, which I had been keeping upon several Shelves hard by my Bed, into their new Home.

  On the twelfth Daye of September, seventeen forty-six, after what had felt to me six very long Weeks, I stood, my Key in Hand, finally alone at the Centre of mine own miniature Universe, and I laughed loud at the
Irony; the very Woman I was desperate to avoid had brought about my Deliverance. Seeming, it seemed, was everything to mine Aunt Barnaby. Then I ran mine Hands across the fine polished Walnut of my writing Desk. I counted up the Books within its glass-fronted Case; my Treasures, locked behind Dozens of tiny diamond Panes. Homer and Virgil, Caesar and Suetonius; Catullus, Ovid; Aristotle, Euclid, Pythagoras; a Bible; Spenser, Shakespeare, Marlowe, Donne; Aristotle (What? out of Place!); Copernicus, Galileo, Newton; Paracelsus, Hobbes, Hooke, Locke, Boyle, Harvey, Descartes, Vesalius, Cheselden.

  On the long dark oaken Table, before the south-facing Window, stood my Chymistry Instruments. Two short, round bellied Alembics, four fat Bottles and eight Flasks, three Thermometers, a white marble Pestle and Mortar, a small leather Bellows. A Microscope, brought all the way from London. A Board for Dissections, a Sett of Bowls. And my precious Medical Etui, containing Scalpels, Needles, a Curette and a Retractor, Scizzors, a Thumb Lancet, and a Bone Saw. Mine only Lack was Subjects for Experimentation.

  I turned about, and ran as quick as I could to the Basement.

  The Kitchen was busy, and the sweet Scent of baking Bread rose on the warm Aire like a Benediction. The Clamour quietened somewhat as I came a-bursting in, and the Cook, who was up to her Elbows in Dough, shot me an inquisitive Glare, and bid me tell her sharp what I was about.

  “Vermin!” I answered. “I require a large dead Rat, or some other Animal of that Ilk, for Dissection. Have you any?”

  “A Rat!” cried the Cook. “As I live and breathe! A Rat! In my Kitchen! No, Master Hart, there are no Rats! I would sooner lose my Place than work in any Kitchen that had Rats! Heaven forbid!”

  “Egad, Woman, there is no Need for that Carry-on,” I said. “What about a Mouse?”

  Eventually, one of the Maids agreed to search the Traps, and so after about half an Houre I had secured my Specimen, and hurried with it to my Study to begin its Evisceration.

  My Subject was an house-Mouse, round eared and grey furred. I laid it out carefully on the sheer Surface of my Desk, and examined it closely. I had never before looked so intently at the Body of any Animal, even one with which I was familiar, and I was at once surprized. An immediate Change seemed to have been wrought upon the Creature by my mere Observation. This Mouse was, I am sure, almost identical to every Mouse I had previously seen, scuttling beside the skirting Board or atop my highest book-Shelf, but it seemed to me as if its Mouseness had become more exact—its Skeleton more precise in its Proportions, its Eyes more truly black, its minute Teeth more specific in their Shape and Number. I realised of Course that the Mouse had not been altered in any Way by my Looking at it, but that the Change had been in my Perceptions. From this Moment, I perceived, with a marvelling Jolt, that all living things, whatever their Species, would appear to me as Wonders of Ordinary Nature.

  I pinned the Mouse Belly up on my Dissecting Board, opened mine Etui and took out my sharpest Scalpel. Then I paused, for I was not at all sure how to continue. I wanted to explore the Body, but I also wanted to preserve the Skeleton as the first of what I intended to become a varied Collection. The Neck of the Creature having been crushed by the Trap, I pondered whether to conduct mine Investigation from the Chest downward, and open the Body at the Throat, but at last I gave up this Idea as too likely to damage the Ribcage, and instead my first Incision into animal Matter was made at the Anus.

  Immediately, Blood spurted out, along with a small Quantity of faecal Material. Caught by Surprize, I looked around for a Rag, but had none, and in the Event was forced to mop up the Mess with my Sleeve, which Act I found so repulsive that I almost abandoned my Dissection then and there. My Curiosity, however, soon reasserted itself, and I continued to cut more carefully, my Sleeve always at the ready in Case of a Recurrence. I worked on the little Corpse all Afternoon, taking detailed Notes as I progressed, and tho’ I made something of a pig’s Ear of the Dissection, I was pleased with it none the less, and attempted to clean the bloody Bones in a Cup filled with Vinegar.

  To my great Astonishment, when I returned to this four Nights later, I discovered that the tiny Skeleton had turned as pliable as Glue. I could do nothing with the Bones in that State, so I disposed of them in a flower Bed. I repeated this unintentional Experiment on Purpose with different Kinds and Sizes of Bone, and always achieved a similar Result, but I never discovered precisely what it is about Vinegar and Bone that causeth the one to undergo so peculiar an Alteration in the Presence of the other.

  From then on, I took Care to clean all skeletal Remains with a small Brush, and a Solution of white Salt in clear Water. I kept my finished Skeletons on Top of my Bookcase, until after a Twelvemonth the Collection grew too numerous, and I was forced to move it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  April, 1750, had proved a dismal Month beset by steady Clouds and Showers of heavy Rain. But it had not been a freezing Dampe. The Thermometer upon the window-Sill of my Bedchamber told me daily that at last the Temperature had begun to rise; the long cruel Winter that had stoppt the Clocks and frozen the River had ended. Now the Effects of this new Mildness were becoming visible in the budding, twittering Hedgerows all around Shirelands Hall. In my Study, I had kept the Fire piled high and fiercely hot, and I had stood within my Walls and watched the Rain pour out across the Valley of the Horse.

  My Laboratory had developed somewhat since its first Establishment. My long Table sate yet before the south Window, but it was flanked now by two large wire fronted Cages, in which I kept my living Specimens until I could make Use of them. Each of these Cages being sub-divided, I had thereby Housing for forty small Animals, and consequently the Room had often the Smell of an Aviary or a game-Keeper’s Hut. This Arrangement taking up the whole Length of that Wall, I had been forced to move my Desk into the Centre, for I had had more Bookcases and Cabinets built upon the other Walls from Floor to Ceiling, and there was not a spare Inch of Space anywhere. From behind Glass peered down the Skulls of Foxes, Otters, Badgers, and a Roebuck, and the mounted Skeletons of Cats and Mice danced along the Shelves in between Jars housing their pickled Viscera. For my Comfort when Reading, I had installed a small Sofa before the Fire, and I had spent a Deal of Time upon it over the preceding Months, wrappt in a Blanket.

  I had turned nineteen in January, and I wanted to go up to the University in Oxford, but that was impossible. My Father, when presst, gave the poor Excuse of my still fragile Mind. This appeared unfair to me; in the three and an half Yeares since I had taken up Possession of my Laboratory, I had not fallen more than twice into the melancholy Sea. The Mania that had brought about my Deliverance from the last of my Tutors seemed an half forgotten Nightmare. Mine Unhappiness was compounded by the Fact that on Christmas Eve, Nathaniel, whilst visiting my Chambers and extreamly drunk, had told me that he was to attend the Theological College from September in Accordance with his Father’s Wish that he take Orders. Seeing that I was put severely out of Sorts by these Newes, he had pleaded with me to return with him to the Rectory and restore our good Humour in Company with several of the local Maids—one of whom, he hinted, was particularly taken with me—but I had refused. I kept to My Self how much I would miss him.

  * * *

  At nine of the Clock, on the thirtieth Daye of April, I was painstakingly involved in the Dissection of a large gravid Rat when someone rapped unexpectedly upon my study Door. I startled wildly, and sliced intirely thro’ one of the delicate Amnions, which I had intended to preserve intact, cutting off the Head and dextral fore-Limb of the Foetus in the Process.

  “Damnation!” Clutching my Scalpel still in my Hand, I strode across to the Door, turned the Key and threw the Room open. “What the Hell is it?”

  “Is that any Way to greet your oldest Friend?” Nathaniel said.

  “Oh, ’tis you! I thought it had been the under-Footman.”

  “It would have been,” Nathaniel said. “But I perswaded him otherwise. Do you know that your Hands are covered with Blood? And here I am come to steal you awa
y to a Night’s Revellry.”

  “Revellry? What? The Blood is from that Rat you sent me. A beautifull Specimen, Nat; but I am running out of pickling Vinegar.”

  “I do not take your Meaning.”

  “I can’t preserve the Rat in toto; ’tis too big. So I have decided to excise the Uterus and embryo Pups only. And I was managing the Operation exceeding well, before your bloody loud Knock interrupted me. Come and see what you have made me do.”

  I crosst over to the long Table and placed my Scalpel carefully upon the thickly felted wooden Board, positioned at the mid-Point of a three-quarter Circle of tall wax Candles, where I had pinned the Rat. Nathaniel peered into the Corpse with a perplext Expression.

  “Here, Nat, for God’s sake,” I said.

  “Which is the Uterus?” Nathaniel asked.

  “That.” I presst the Organ lightly with my smallest Fingertip.

  “I see it now, I think. Little Questions, peremptorily dismisst. If her Pregnancy had occurred to me I might not have offered her to you.”

  “’Tis but a Rat,” I said. “And I must practise upon something. You know not what Human Suffering may yet be relieved because I have just spent three Houres on this Rat. Though I should have preferred it had been a Monkey.”

  “I did not have a Monkey. And as for alleviating human Suffering, I should say ’tis barely worth the Effort. If you were to ease a Man’s Pain by a full Half, he would only curse you for failing to remove the Whole. Now you must wash your Hands and Face, for you have a broad Smear of Rat above your left Eyebrow; change your Attire and come with me. I have tonight called in a Favour of the Landlord of the Bull, and he hath agreed to let me have the upper Room for a private Ridotto.”