Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631)

by Wolf, Jack

  The Carriage slowed, and realising that we were arrived at the Address, I looked out of the Window to take Stock of the Appearance of the House, which I had been told was extreamly beautifull. In Truth, I thought, it was not so, altho’ it was a fine big House, at the very Centre of a Row new finished out of pinkish Stone, which seemed to glimmer faintly thro’ the late morning Mist. Perhaps, I thought, that very Newness is why I cannot call it beautifull.

  Dr Hunter descended from the Carriage, and strode up the front Steps to the tall white Door. I followed quickly, and joined him just as he rapped once upon it with his silver-headed Cane. The Door opened directly. I thought that the Maid, her Ladyship’s Abigail by her Dress, must have been awaiting our Arrival in the Atrium.

  “Ah, Alice,” Dr Hunter said, stepping over the Threshold. “How doth your Mistress? Is Dr Oliver here, and is all in Readiness?”

  “Dr Oliver is above, Sir, with my Mistress,” Alice replied, in a trembling Voice. “She is as well as could be expected, Sir.”

  “Good, good,” said Dr Hunter, in a gentler Tone. “And the Room, Alice; is the Room prepared?”

  “Yes,” Alice said, and burst forth into Tears.

  “Be at Ease, Lassie,” Dr Hunter said, patting her Shoulder. “All will be well. Mr Hart and I shall find our own Way to the Salon. Go down to the Kitchens and remain there with the other Servants till her Ladyship rings for you.”

  Weeping, Alice went.

  “Now,” Dr Hunter said. “To Business.”

  We climbed thro’ the unnerving silent House, Dr Hunter ahead, My Self following, as before. “Will his Lordship be present, also?” I asked.

  Dr Hunter stoppt. “Lud, no,” he said. “He hath been sent away, I do most dearly trust; there is naught worse than to have an Husband present at a Procedure such as this.”

  “Wherefore?” I said.

  Dr Hunter regarded me steadily. “You will understand wherefore, Mr Hart, if ever you take a Wife,” he said; and then turning abruptly from me, he resumed his swift Ascent of the wide, white Staircase.

  Lady B.——’s Salon, where she was waiting for Dr Hunter, I discovered to be a large, airy sitting Room, fashionably furnished; and, which was to our Purpose, well lit, with a north facing Window. Her Ladyship herself was presently laid flat upon a silver brocaide Sopha, her left Arm resting theatrically across her Forehead, and her corsetless Bosom heaving with all Appearance of extream Distress. By her Side, awkwardly patting her Hand, knelt Dr Oliver. He stood up at once as Dr Hunter entered the Room, his coarse Physiognomy registering boundless Relief.

  Lady B.—— lifted her Wrist from her Brow and stole a Look across the Salon. Her Eyes opened wide in seeming Horrour as she caught Sight of me. “Fie! Dr Hunter!” she cried. “What are you about, to bring a Jew in here! Is it not bad enough that Dr Oliver must witness mine Humiliation? Oh, Dr Hunter! Oh, Sir!”

  I came to a shocked Halt in the Doorway. My Countenance must have registered my Distress, for Dr Hunter shot me a Look, to tell me to remain where I stood; then he crosst to her Ladyship’s Side. Thro’ her Sobs, which seemed to me somewhat exuberant, I heard his gentle Scottish Accents explaining to her that I was no Jew, and his own Pupil, and that she must somehow control her Passions, if he was to attempt the Operation.

  I looked around the Room. Before the handsome Fireplace stood a lone Armchair, covered by a Number of old Sheets, and fearsome in its Emptiness. At its left Side, which was the farthest from the Fire, stood a long cup Board, atop which was piled an high Mound of Compresses, Bandages, Sponges, and Lint. Behind it, locked, for now, sate a small Chest, in which I knew were contained all the necessary Implements of Surgery.

  Mine Heartbeat quickened. The Mercy Seat, I thought.

  I was becoming most impatient to begin, and mine Attention returned to Lady B.—— whose Bawlings had seemingly ceased. Something about her Attitude perplext me. I could understand why she should be suffering, if indeed she was; but her Agonies seemed to mine experienced Ear intirely counterfeit, as if, in Truth, she was secretly delighted by her Predicament, and revelled in the Attention it brought her. This Woman, I thought, who oft makes Pretense that she is about to die, doth not comprehend the Severity of her present Sickness. She mistakes it for but another petty Alarum, that shall prove false, and be soothed by mere Words. But it is not such, and it shall not be so eased. The Room is ready and the Surgeons in Attendance, and the Cancer will not wait.

  The Lady’s apparent Quietude now gave to Dr Hunter the Opportunity of introducing me, and then of issuing the Instruction that I was to unpack and make ready the Contents of the Chest, whilst he and Dr Oliver prepared their Patient. I was gladdened to be given something to do. The Activity placated mine Annoyance at the Lady B.——’s Prevarications, and took me, moreover, out of her Sight. I removed my Frock, that it should not impede my Movement, and laid it to one Side before unlocking the Box and beginning to go about my Task.

  The two Doctors now between them perswaded Lady B.— to quit her Sopha and to approach the Chair. She was not, I noted in passing, unpleasing in her Features, tho’ she had called me Jew; her Complexion was smooth and remarkably even despite her Weeping; pale, but not yet with the Pallour of Horrour. She was attired in a blue morning Gown, which reminded me, for one unaccountable Moment, of mine early Childhood. Dr Hunter, with some Difficulty, had her remove it. This left only her Shift and Petticoats, and tho’ the Latter posed no Obstacle to the Doctor’s Knife, the Former certainly did. It, too, was taken off, and then her Ladyship stood before us, strippt naked to the Waist and crimson with Humiliation. I let my Gaze hover about her Body. It was, by the common Measure, well formed; her Waist small, her Breasts heavy and round, free from any superficial Imperfection.

  She was induced to sit; then Dr Oliver, over the Lady’s Head, asked: “Shall she be strappt down, Sir?” Dr Hunter nodded, but Lady B.—— sprung straight up again, crying: “No! No! Please! No! Do not tie me! I beg you, do not tie me!”

  Now, I thought, she is afraid. I can hear the Panick in her Voice. To mine Horrour, a Surge of dark Excitement travelled up my Spine. I set my Face into a Mask, and removed my cauterising Irons from the Chest.

  Conciliatory as Dr Hunter’s Manner had previously been towards her Ladyship, he shewed no Intention whatsoever of being swayed by her Wishes in this. Her Ladyship was to be restrained, he insisted, for her own Safety as much as that the Operation required it. She would find it impossible to sit still, for even knowing it to be necessary, what Creature would willingly submit to such a Mutilation? And what if she should faint, and fall?

  Seeing her Physician unmoved, Lady B.—— began in full earnest to weep. Her Sobs had now a very different Timbre; quiet, low; the Protestations of Helplessness. I thanked my Stars, and Dr Hunter, that I had been sent behind the Chair, for my Loins sprang at once to full Attention at the Tone, and a pretty Picture I should have made had I been in Sight. Then Lady B.—— gave a despairing, high Wail, like to the Shrieking of a Frog. A thin Worm of Pity stirred within my Bowels. Weeping, she was put back into the Chair; weeping, she was tied.

  The piteous Sight moved me thro’out mine intire Body. I wished I were the One to wield the Knife. A Storm of Excitation and the cruellest Desire raged within mine Hands, my Belly, my vicious, importunate Loins; yet mine Heart was wrung with Pity. Her Ladyship’s Sufferings, I could discern, were now both real and extreamly great, whatever they had been before. The Reality of her Position had broken in, and the Pains in her Breast and her Arm were no longer perverse Sources of Comfort, but only of Terrour.

  Those Pains, I thought, which I would so grievously worsen; and yet, by worsening, intirely take away; thro’ harming, heal. The Notion was so beautifull that I could not speak, and mine own Eyes filled, to my greatest Astonishment, with Tears. I blinked.

  Dr Oliver then placed a soft linen Band across her Ladyship’s Eyes, and bade her shut up and be patient. In the loaded Stillness that descended Dr Hunter removed first his Coat,
then his Waistcoat and the Ruffles of his Shirt, before signing to me to come around to the Front of the Chair in order to observe his and Dr Oliver’s Deliberations. With some Caution, lest I betray My Self, I approached. He drew mine Attention to a solid Swelling within the outside Tissue of the left Breast, where the Skin was puckered and somewhat flushed. I droppt upon mine Haunches and peered closely at the infected Flesh. My Loins began, to my great Relief, to shrink. The Tumour seemed small, as Dr Hunter had suggested, but mine Instinct was that it lay in an unhappy Place, too near to the Opening of the Lymphatick Channel for my Liking. Indeed, I thought, ’tis past Time this Thing was got out; ’twill kill her frightening quick if it is not. The Knowledge coursed thro’ mine Entrails with a sickening Chill. I pondered how deeply the Cancer had rooted within the Breast, and hoped that Dr Hunter’s Assessment of its Proportions had been correct.

  “Where would you make the Incision, Mr Hart?” Dr Hunter asked.

  I understood that this Question was merely to test mine Apprehension of the Case rather than an eager Request for mine Advice. Nevertheless, I indicated silently the Places where I should decide to cut, and then looked to him to see his Reaction.

  Dr Hunter nodded. “Intirely right,” he said. “Dr Oliver, if you will hold the Organ, Sir, we must begin.”

  As the good Doctor’s Blade bit into her Flesh, Lady B.—— screamed. At once, my Fire was back, as if ’twere never doused. Her Scream was a white Arrow, swift and light, a feathered Shaft vibrating with a stinging Hiss, and climbing, climbing, extatically high, one shining silver Note; but then, as it reached the Apex of its Flight it was suddenly gone. The Room rang with its Silence.

  “She hath fainted,” said Dr Oliver. “Good.”

  Good? I thought, with a cruel Spit of Anger. Good? My cheated Body howled Frustration. The aethereal Beauty of the Moment had dissolved into an ugly Lust that had neither Object nor Hope of Satiation. For the second Time, I could have wept.

  As my vicious Desire dissipated, my medical Mind, which should always have been in the Ascendant, began more strongly to arouse. Oh, ’tis a Relief, I told My Self, that she is senseless; to me as much as ’tis to her. The Agony, of itself, can do her little Good, and to me ’tis a Distraction I would better do without. I directed mine Attention closely upon the opened Breast. My Stomach tightened against a Stab of startling Fear. How can Dr Hunter properly assess her vital Condition, if she be not conscious? She may die, I thought.

  The Tissue within the Breast was not Flesh, but Fat, and a white glandular Matter, richly supplied with Blood. I recalled the Doctor’s Injunction to be quick with mine Irons, and I grippt them tightly, lest they slip. I would be as clever with mine Hand at the cauterising of the leaking Veins and showering Arteries as he was with the Scalpel itself. The Blood was hot upon my Fingers, salt-smelling, slippery, surprising plentiful.

  Dr Hunter’s Blade worked swiftly and with Precision. The Cancer was in a Lobe hard by the Pectoral Muscle, and it was necessary to cut away all the Glandular Tissue that surrounded it. Such was his Skill that within a very few Minutes, the gross red Body of the Cancer came free from the Flesh. It had the Appearance of a giant Louse, gorged fat with Blood, deeper and darker than the healthy Matter around it. Dr Hunter, keen as always to spare his Patient a Moment’s Anguish, ordered Dr Oliver and My Self to begin the Closure and Bandaging of the Wound. But something prevented me.

  “No, Sir,” I said. I did not compleatly know wherefore. Her Ladyship had begun to revive. Perhaps, I thought, ’twas but the Hope she might be brought to scream again.

  “What?” Dr Hunter said.

  “You have not finished, Sir.” As I spoke, the latent and clouded Suspicion, that had caused me to refuse, came suddenly into brilliant Clarity. Staring into the Body, I perceived, as if it were mapped out for me, the exact Strategy by which the Cancer sought to insinuate itself thro’ the healthy Tissue, turning all morbid. I could see precisely where its Incursions began, and in what Direction they were headed. No Louse, but a parasitic Fungus, weaving its deadly Nexus within living Flesh. “There was too much Blood,” I said. “From here—and here. The Arrangement of the Arteries in these two Spots is quite unlike to that of the Remainder of the Gland. The Flesh here is corrupt, Sir. I would swear to it.”

  Dr Hunter cast me an horrified Glance, but, seeing that I was not in any Doubt, he bent over the Lady’s Breast to perform his own Inspection of the now cauterised Tissue. “I can see no Corruption,” he said.

  “Damme, Sir!” I said. “Can not you? The Cancer is growing, Sir.”

  “Quiet!” said Dr Hunter sharply. “She will hear you. Dr Oliver, your Opinion, please.”

  “I am, as you know, disinclined towards too much cutting,” Dr Oliver said, slowly. “But I think in this Case ’twould be more harmful to excise too little, than too much.”

  The two Surgeons stared at each other, their Expressions grave. My Cheek grew cold. I could not believe that Dr Hunter would disagree now, after Dr Oliver had given me his Support. The Lady will die, I thought, if he doth not continue. She will die, and she must not. She must not! Time, and mine own Heart, seemed to stop. Then Dr Hunter nodded his Concurrence, and lifted his Scalpel again. Again the Steel sliced thro’ the yielding Gland, again the red Blood leapt. The Doctor made no Sound, but from the Speed and Intensity with which he worked, I judged that he had found exactly what I had feared: the Tumour had sent forth two thick bloody Threads, which had burrowed thro’ the Breast, towards the Lymph.

  This Time, Dr Hunter did not hurry to close up the Wound, despite the Fact that Lady B.—— was now awake, and moaning softly. At his Invitation, Dr Oliver and I inspected the Place, our Eyes sharp to any Atom of infected Matter; but this Time neither of us could see anything amiss.

  Dr Hunter gave a relieved Sigh, and having put his Instruments aside, he left the Room in order to wash and change back into his previous Finery. Dr Oliver and My Self were quite bespattered with the Lady’s Blood, but that counted for nothing; it would be Dr Hunter she would look for when the linen Band was taken from her Eyes. I washed the Wound with Wine, then sutured it. Finally, I bandaged it as tightly as I could. Lady B.—— was pale as a Corpse, her Skin cold and her Breathing shallow. She said nothing as her Vision was at last unbound, and Dr Oliver and I assisted her to cross the Salon towards her adjoining Bedchamber.

  Thank God, I thought, thank God that she is not my Wife.

  Once her Ladyship was settled in her Bed, and the Bells rung for her Abigail and household Servants to clean up the Mess in her Salon, I made ready, on foot, to depart the Premises. Dr Hunter, restored to his courtly Dress, and looking almost as smart as if the Operation had never taken place, stayed, to reassure the Lady and her newly returned Husband of its likely Success. Dr Oliver left with me. He had been, he told me, about the House all Daye, and was now most desirous of fresh Aire and Exercise to clear the Blood and Screaming from his Head.

  The Weather had brightened whilst we had been within the House. The last Traces of yesterdaye’s heavy Fog lingered yet about the cold Corners where the Light did not reach, but the main Thorough-fare was now intirely clear, and thro’ the covering Cloud above I could discern occasional Glimpses of the Sunne.

  “I had the uncommon Pleasure, yesterdaye, of meeting with a young Man who claims an Aquaintanceship with you,” Dr Oliver said, as we walked.

  “Who, Sir?”

  “One Lt. Isaac Simmins, of the 31st Foot.”

  “Simmins!” I said. “Little Simmins! Egad! I know not what Cause he should have to wish to claim any Connexion with me! He was my Tutor’s Son and I treated him with precious little Kindness.”

  “He spoke fondly of you, in my Opinion. Perhaps you have more, and better, Friends than you know, Mr Hart.”

  “Indeed,” I said. “I must have better Friends than I deserve. Where is Lt. Simmins staying? I shall write to him.”

  “I do not know the Address,” Dr Oliver replied. “But I am sure you may smoake it easy eno
ugh. He was waiting upon an Associate of mine own, who hath, I believe, done him some Service I presume to be financial. Mine Associate hath no Child, and I believe your Friend to be the latest in a long Line of young Men whose Careers he hath seen fit to advance.”

  We had by now come to the Crossroads at the northern End of Covent Garden. Dr Oliver, whose Destination lay in the opposite Direction from mine, bade me Good Afternoon and turned to leave. He had gone no more than three Paces, however, when he stoppt and looked back. “That was a sound Judgement,” he said. “You may well have saved the Lady’s Life.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” I said.

  “Where do you go now? I should not go straight home, if I were you. I should visit one of these Houses and relieve that—Irritation. It amazes me that you were able to think at all, let alone so clearly.”

  With that, Dr Oliver touched his Hat, and scurried away thro’ the Covent Garden Crowds. I stood in the Street, bestilled by Shock.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I continued to stand, mortified, mine Eyes fixt upon the Space into which Dr Oliver had disappeared. A cold Breath passed thro’ me. Dr Oliver had seen it all. Dear God, I thought, and what did Dr Hunter see? Will he ever let me near to any of his Patients again? Yet Dr Oliver had also seen that I had perhaps saved the Lady’s Life.

  My Thoughts turned then to the Lady, and, despite my wishing they would not, to how she had called me Jew. I cursed my dark Countenance, and the Sephardic Heritage that had coloured it. If my Father, I thought, had but shewn the Sense to marry an Englishwoman, I should mayhap have been blessed with the bright Skin and blue Eyes of Jacob, instead of the swarthy Complexion of Esau. Yet, even as I gave birth to the Thought, I disowned it. It was not in me truly to regret my Mother. None the less, I thought. It would have been a fine thing if I had favoured my Father’s Family, instead of hers. I felt even my Mother would have admitted that.