To bake the bread required an oven, and he accordingly built one in the garret, laying in a large stock of wood for fuel. Neither did he neglect to provide himself with two casks of meal.
But the most important consideration was butcher’s meat; and for this purpose he went to Rotherhithe, where the plague had not yet appeared, and agreed with a butcher to kill him four fat bullocks, and pickle and barrel them as if for sea stores. He likewise directed the man to provide six large barrels of pickled pork, on the same understanding. These were landed at Queenhithe, and brought up to Wood-street, so that they passed for newly-landed grocery.
Hams and bacon forming part of his own trade, he wrote to certain farmers with whom he was in the habit of dealing, to send him up an unlimited supply of flitches and gammons; and his orders being promptly and abundantly answered, he soon found he had more bacon than he could possibly consume. He likewise laid in a good store of tongues, hung beet, and other dried meats.
As to wine, he already had a tolerable stock; but he increased it by half a hogshead of the best canary he could procure; two casks of malmsey, each containing twelve gallons; a quarter-cask of Malaga sack; a runlet of muscadine; two small runlets of aqua vitae; twenty gallons of aniseed water; and two eight-gallon runlets of brandy. To this he added six hogsheads of strongly-hopped Kent ale, calculated for keeping, which he placed in a cool cellar, together with three hogsheads of beer, for immediate use. Furthermore, he procured a variety of distilled waters for medicinal purposes, amongst which he included a couple of dozen of the then fashionable and costly preparation, denominated plague-water.
As, notwithstanding all his precautions, it was not impossible that some of his household might be attacked by the distemper, he took care to provide proper remedies, and, to Blaize’s infinite delight, furnished himself with mithridates, Venice treacle, diascorium, the pill rufus (oh! how the porter longed to have the key of the medicine chest!), London treacle, turpentine, and other matters. He likewise collected a number of herbs and simples; as Virginian snakeweed, contrajerva, pestilence-wort, angelica, elecampane, zedoary, tormentil, valerian, lovage, devils-bit, dittany, master-wort, rue, sage, ivy-berries, and walnuts; together with bole ammoniac, terra sigillata, bezoar-water, oil of sulphur, oil of vitriol, and other compounds. His store of remedies was completed by a tun of the best white-wine vinegar, and a dozen jars of salad-oil.
Regulating his supplies by the provisions he had laid in, he purchased a sufficient stock of coals and fagots to last him during the whole period of his confinement; and he added a small barrel of gunpowder, and a like quantity of sulphur for fumigation.
His eatables would not have been complete without cheese; and he therefore ordered about six hundredweight from Derbyshire, Wiltshire, and Leicestershire, besides a couple of large old cheeses from Rostherne, in Cheshire — even then noted for the best dairies in the whole county. Several tubs of salted butter were sent him out of Berkshire, and a few pots, from Suffolk.
It being indispensable, considering the long period he meant to close his house, to provide himself and his family with every necessary, he procured a sufficient stock of wearing apparel, hose, shoes and boots. Spice, dried fruit, and other grocery articles, were not required, because he already possessed them. Candles also formed an article of his trade, and lamp-oil; but he was recommended by Doctor Hodges, from a fear of the scurvy, to provide a plentiful supply of lemon and lime juice.
To guard against accident, he also doubly stocked his house with glass, earthenware, and every article liable to breakage. He destroyed all vermin, such as rats and mice, by which the house was infested; and the only live creatures he would suffer to be kept were a few poultry. He had a small hutch constructed near the street-door, to be used by the watchman he meant to employ; and he had the garrets fitted up with beds to form an hospital, if any part of the family should be seized with the distemper, so that the sick might be sequestered from the sound.
* * * * *
III.
THE QUACK DOCTORS.
Patience, it may be remembered, had promised Blaize to give him her earnings to enable him to procure a fresh supply of medicine, and about a week after he had received the trifling amount (for he had been so constantly employed by the grocer that he had no opportunity of getting out before), he sallied forth to visit a neighbouring apothecary, named Parkhurst, from whom he had been in the habit of purchasing drugs, and who occupied a small shop not far from the grocer’s, on the opposite side of the street. Parkhurst appeared overjoyed to see him, and, without giving him time to prefer his own request, inquired after his master’s family — whether they were all well, especially fair Mistress Amabel — and, further, what was the meaning of the large supplies of provision which he saw daily conveyed to the premises? Blaize shook his head at the latter question, and for some time refused to answer it. But being closely pressed by Parkhurst, he admitted that his master was about to shut up his house.
“Shut up his house!” exclaimed Parkhurst. “I never heard of such a preposterous idea. If he does so, not one of you will come out alive. But I should hope that he will be dissuaded from his rash design.”
“Dissuaded!” echoed Blaize. “You don’t know my master. He’s as obstinate as a mule when he takes a thing into his head. Nothing will turn him. Besides, Doctor Hodges sanctions and even recommends the plan.”
“I have no opinion of Doctor Hodges,” sneered the apothecary. “He is not fit to hold a candle before a learned friend of mine, a physician, who is now in that room. The person I speak of thoroughly understands the pestilence, and never fails to cure every case that comes before him. No shutting up houses with him. He is in possession of an infallible remedy.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Blaize, pricking up his ears. “What is his name?”
“His name!” cried Parkhurst, with a puzzled look. “How strange it should slip my memory! Ah, now I recollect. It is Doctor Calixtus Bottesham.”
“A singular name, truly,” remarked Blaize; “but it sounds like that of a clever man.”
“Doctor Calixtus Bottesham is a wonderful man,” returned the apothecary. “I have never met with his like. I would trumpet forth his merits through the whole city, but that it would ruin my trade. The plague is our harvest, as my friend Chowles, the coffin-maker, says, and it will not do to stop it — ha! ha!”
“It is too serious a subject to laugh at,” returned Blaize, gravely.
“But are the doctor’s fees exorbitant?”
“To the last degree,” replied Parkhurst. “I am afraid to state how much he asks.”
“I fear I shall not be able to consult him, then,” said Blaize, turning over the coin in his pocket; “and yet I should greatly like to do so.”
“Have no fear on that score,” returned the apothecary. “I have been able to render him an important service, and he will do anything for me. He shall give you his advice gratis.”
“Thank you! thank you!” cried Blaize, transported with delight.
“Wait here a moment, and I will ascertain whether he will see you,” replied Parkhurst.
So saying, he quitted the porter, who amused himself during his absence by studying the labels affixed to the jars and bottles on the shelves. He had much ado to restrain himself from opening some of them, and tasting their contents.
Full a quarter of an hour elapsed before the apothecary appeared.
“I am sorry to have detained you so long,” he said; “but I had more difficulty with the doctor than I expected, and for some time he refused to see you on any terms, because he has a violent antipathy to Doctor Hodges, whom he regards as a mere pretender, and whose patient he conceives you to be.”
“I am not Doctor Hodges’ patient,” returned Blaize; “and I regard him as a pretender myself.”
“That opinion will recommend you to Doctor Bottesham,” replied Parkhurst; “and since I have smoothed the way for you, you will find him very affable and condescending. He has often heard me speak
of your master; and if it were not for his dislike of Doctor Hodges, whom he might accidentally encounter, he would call upon him.”
“I wish I could get my master to employ him instead of the other,” said
Blaize.
“I wish so too,” cried Parkhurst, eagerly. “Do you think it could be managed?”
“I fear not,” returned Blaize.
“There would be no harm in making the trial,” replied Parkhurst. “But you shall now see the learned gentleman. I ought to apprise you that he has two friends with him — one a young gallant, named Hawkswood, whom he has recently cured of the distemper, and who is so much attached to him that he never leaves him; the other, a doctor, like himself, named Martin Furbisher, who always accompanies him in his visits to his patients, and prepares his mixtures for him. You must not be surprised at their appearance. And now come with me.”
With this, he led the way into a small room at the back of the shop, where three personages were seated at the table, with a flask of wine and glasses before them. Blaize detected Doctor Bottesham at a glance. He was an ancient-looking man, clad in a suit of rusty black, over which was thrown a velvet robe, very much soiled and faded, but originally trimmed with fur, and lined with yellow silk. His powers of vision appeared to be feeble, for he wore a large green shade over his eyes, and a pair of spectacles of the same colour. A venerable white beard descended almost to his waist. His head was protected by a long flowing grey wig, over which he wore a black velvet cap. His shoulders were high and round, his back bent, and he evidently required support when he moved, as a crutch-headed staff was reared against his chair. On his left was a young, handsome, and richly-attired gallant, answering to the apothecary’s description of Hawkswood; and on the right sat a stout personage precisely habited like himself, except that he wore a broad-leaved hat, which completely overshadowed his features. Notwithstanding this attempt at concealment, it was easy to perceive that Doctor Furbisher’s face was covered with scars, that he had a rubicund nose, studded with carbuncles, and a black patch over his left eye.
“Is this the young man who desires to consult me?” asked Doctor Calixtus
Bottesham, in the cracked and quavering voice of old age, of Parkhurst.
“It is,” replied the apothecary, respectfully. “Go forward,” he added to
Blaize, “and speak for yourself.”
“What ails you?” pursued Bottesham, gazing at him through his spectacles. “You look strong and hearty.”
“So I am, learned sir,” replied Blaize, bowing to the ground; “but understanding from Mr. Parkhurst that you have an infallible remedy against the plague, I would gladly procure it from you, as, if I should be attacked, I may not have an opportunity of consulting you.”
“Why not?” demanded Bottesham. “I will come to you if you send for me.”
“Because,” replied Blaize, after a moment’s hesitation, “my master is about to shut up his house, and no one will be allowed to go forth, or to enter it, till the pestilence is at an end.”
“Your master must be mad to think of such a thing,” rejoined Bottesham. “What say you, brother Furbisher? — is that the way to keep off the plague?”
“Gallipots of Galen! no,” returned the other; “it is rather the way to invite its assaults.”
“When does your master talk of putting this fatal design — for fatal it will be to him and all his household — into execution?” demanded Bottesham.
“Very shortly, I believe,” replied Blaize. “He meant to begin on the first of June, but as the pestilence is less violent than it was, Doctor Hodges has induced him to defer his purpose for a few days.”
“Doctor Hodges!” exclaimed Bottesham, contemptuously. “It was an unfortunate day for your master when he admitted that sack-drinking impostor into his house.”
“I have no great opinion of his skill,” replied Blaize, “but, nevertheless, it must be admitted that he cured Master Stephen in a wonderful manner.”
“Pshaw!” exclaimed Bottesham, “that was mere accident. I heard the particulars of the case from Parkhurst, and am satisfied the youth would have recovered without his aid. But what a barbarian Mr. Bloundel must be to think of imprisoning his family in this way!”
“He certainly does not consult my inclinations in the matter,” returned
Blaize.
“Nor those of his wife and daughter, I should imagine,” continued
Bottesham. “How do they like it?”
“I cannot exactly say,” answered Blaize. “What a dreadful thing it would be if I should be attacked by the plague, and no assistance could be procured!”
“It would be still more dreadful if so angelic a creature as Bloundel’s daughter is represented to be — for I have never seen her — should be so seized,” observed Bottesham. “I feel so much interested about her that I would do anything to preserve her from the fate with which she is menaced.”
“Were it not inconsistent with your years, learned sir, I might suspect you of a tenderer feeling towards her,” observed Blaize, archly. “But, in good sooth, her charms are so extraordinary, that I should not be surprised at any effect they might produce.”
“They would produce no effect on me,” replied Bottesham. “I am long past such feelings. But in regard to yourself. You say you are afraid of the plague. I will give you an electuary to drive away the panic;” and he produced a small jar, and handed it to the porter. “It is composed of conserve of roses, gillyflowers, borage, candied citron, powder of laetificans Galeni, Roman zedoary, doronicum, and saffron. You must take about the quantity of a large nutmeg, morning and evening.”
“You make me for ever your debtor, learned sir,” rejoined Blaize. “What a charming mixture!”
“I will also add my remedy,” said Furbisher. “It is a powder compounded of crabs’ eyes, burnt hartshorn, the black tops of crabs’ claws, the bone from a stag’s heart, unicorn’s horn, and salt of vipers. You must take one or two drams — not more — in a glass of hot posset-drink, when you go to bed, and swallow another draught of the same potion to wash it down.”
“I will carefully observe your directions,” replied Blaize, thankfully receiving the powder.
“Of all things,” said Bottesham, claiming the porter’s attention by tapping him on the head with his cane, “take care never to be without vinegar. It is the grand specific, not merely against the plague, but against all disorders. It is food and physic, meat and medicine, drink and julep, cordial and antidote. If you formerly took it as a sauce, now take it as a remedy. To the sound it is a preservative from sickness, to the sick, a restorative to health. It is like the sword which is worn not merely for ornament, but for defence. Vinegar is my remedy against the plague. It is a simple remedy, but an effectual one. I have cured a thousand patients with it, and hope to cure a thousand more. Take vinegar with all you eat, and flavour all you drink with it. Has the plague taken away your appetite, vinegar will renew it. Is your throat ulcerated, use vinegar as a gargle. Are you disturbed with phlegmatic humours, vinegar will remove them. Is your brain laden with vapours, throw vinegar on a hot shovel, and inhale its fumes, and you will obtain instantaneous relief. Have you the headache, wet a napkin in vinegar, and apply it to your temples, and the pain will cease. In short, there is no ailment that vinegar will not cure. It is the grand panacea; and may be termed the elixir of long life.”
“I wonder its virtues have not been found out before,” observed Blaize, innocently.
“It is surprising how slow men are in discovering the most obvious truths,” replied Bottesham. “But take my advice, and never be without it.”
“I never will,” returned Blaize. “Heaven be praised, my master has just ordered in three tuns. I’ll tap one of them directly.”
“That idea of the vinegar remedy is borrowed from Kemp’s late treatise on the pestilence and its cure,” muttered Furbisher. “Before you enter upon the new system, young man,” he added aloud to Blaize, “let me recommend
you to fortify your stomach with a glass of canary.”
And pouring out a bumper, he handed it to the porter, who swallowed it at a draught.
“And now,” said Bottesham, “to return to this mad scheme of your master’s — is there no way of preventing it?”
“I am aware of none,” replied Blaize.
“Bolts and bars!” cried Furbisher, “something must be done for the fair Amabel. We owe it to society not to permit so lovely a creature to be thus immured. What say you, Hawkswood?” he added to the gallant by his side, who had not hitherto spoken.
“It would be unpardonable to permit it — quite unpardonable,” replied this person.
“Might not some plan be devised to remove her for a short time, and frighten him out of his project?” said Bottesham. “I would willingly assist in such a scheme. I pledge you in a bumper, young man. You appear a trusty servant.”
“I am so accounted, learned sir,” replied Blaize, upon whose brain the wine thus plentifully bestowed began to operate— “and I may add, justly so.”
“You really will be doing your master a service if you can prevent him from committing this folly,” rejoined Bottesham.
“Let us have a bottle of burnt malmsey, with a few bruised raisins in it, Mr. Parkhurst. This poor young man requires support. Be seated, friend.”
With some hesitation, Blaize complied, and while the apothecary went in search of the wine, he observed to Bottesham, “I would gladly comply with your suggestion, learned sir, if I saw any means of doing so.”
“Could you not pretend to have the plague?” said Bottesham. “I could then attend you.”
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 238
