This mental alienation continued till within a few hours of his death: it was the touchstone of his character: he talked much, even when alone, or when, as in the watches of the night, by the faint light of a lamp, he thought himself alone; and his talking was thinking aloud; so that, had his mind or disposition concealed any thing inconsistent with piety, purity, or charity, it must have been then revealed: if his self-love had been excessive, it would have burst forth in vain-glorious expressions: if he had entertained inordinate desires of any kind, they would then have betrayed themselves. But there was nothing of all this.

He recited frequently and for a length of time together the prayers of the church, or those used in the family: he uttered sentiments of piety and devotion: "O my G.o.d, I love thee with my whole heart and soul, and I beg rather to die than offend thee by any mortal sin;" with many other aspirations of holy fervour. So little fear existed of his saying any thing unfit for chaste or virgin ears to hear, that, not till after his death, did it offer itself to my mind that this danger had actually been incurred. It is worthy of remark, that he never said any thing on the subject of those scruples which had given him uneasiness during his health; a presumption that they were unfounded, and had their source in timidity and inexperience. The charity "which thinketh no evil," did not now forsake him; he spoke of the several persons of his acquaintance, but not in dispraise of any. Of one who, as I knew, had lately given him offence, he said, "M. de ---- is a very good, a very pious man." It may be conjectured that he made an effort to say something in this person's favour, as the sort of eulogy by no means suited the character of him to whom it was given.

His patience was admirable. On the twelfth of September, sinapism was applied to the soles of his feet: it produced no good effect, being taken off four hours after it was put on; but, during those four hours, it caused excessive torture: he said, "it is a fire that burns without consuming." Two days after the removal of the sinapism, Roche ordered blisters on the legs, and insisted, in token of his good-will, on putting them on himself: he put them on as one unaccustomed to the work: the patient, unconscious of what he was doing, tore them off in the night, and spread the blistering drug on different parts of his body.

The surgeon who attended to dress the blisters, advised that these slight excoriations should be let alone, fearing to draw them by any healing plaster, and hoping that they might heal of themselves. The restlessness of the patient prevented this: plasters were then applied, but four or five of these wounds situated on the parts on which he rested in bed, continued till his death. By these wounds Kenelm was urged to exclaim, "O why do I suffer so much?" but immediately corrected himself: "I am very wrong--very impatient." He refused to take any thing to remove the nauseous taste of the medicines: he once asked for a piece of an orange for this purpose, and then rejected it. On some few occasions he complained, as one suffering indeed, but not as without resignation, or unwilling to suffer: he seemed at all times sensible of the duty of bearing his illness in the spirit of penance: even his delirium did not destroy the virtuous habits of his mind.

About this time my younger son began to be ill; the predisposition to the typhus manifested itself in listlessness and languor. Roche said, "Il est triste a cause de son frere: il faut l'amuser; il faut le promener."[70] He was still able, for some days longer, to amuse himself with his pencil or at chess with me, and to walk out with the servant or some of the family; but the malady gained upon him.

After the event, I can blame myself, and may be blamed by others, for allowing my confidence in Roche to continue so long. After the event, I received hints, and more than hints, that he was not of skill enough for a serious case; while he was still retained, no one spoke against him.

Besides, he had served me well in the serious case of the scarlet fever.

I did not place more reliance on him on account of his devotion, knowing that devotion is but too often another mode of self-deceit: but I thought him incapable of acting like a villain. The patient showed an appearance of great strength, and Roche's daily promises of his speedy recovery did not as yet bear the semblance of improbability.

The silence of the surgeon, who came every morning and evening to dress and keep open the blisters, also tended to deceive me. He might have been the means of saving a valuable life, of rescuing the family from the danger of contagion, all except the younger son, who had already taken the infection; and for him might have procured timely aid: but he prudently held his tongue, except to a.s.sure us that there was no danger.

At length came the grand conspirator, he who set his seal to the deceit, rendered the discovery of Roche's error impracticable, and a.s.sured its result.

FOOTNOTES:

[69] "Your son is an angel."--"Not yet."

[70] He is melancholy on account of his brother; he must be amused; he must be taken out.

CHAP. XVII.

On the seventeenth of September, I proposed to Roche to call in another physician, naming M. Guerard, a man of acknowledged ability, but old and deaf. On account of these natural defects of Guerard, and out of friendship for Roche, I did not discharge this latter. Roche said, "I will call myself on M. Guerard, and bring him to the house." I saw nothing in this proposal, but an act of civility towards Guerard. I have since understood that this man sheltered himself, under the character of _consulting_ physician, from the reproach of a treacherous abuse of my confidence in him. It is possible that Roche called him in as such, from unwillingness to seem to be superseded. But on his second visit, when he came alone, on his observing, "M. Roche est votre medecin," I replied, "vous l'etes aussi,"[71] and explained to him, that I expected from him the service of a physician just as much as if Roche was not in attendance; adding that, if I had been perfectly satisfied with Roche, I should not have called in another. Besides he received his fee; a circ.u.mstance which, if I understand aright, technically nullifies a technical defence of a conduct too atrocious for me to suspect at the time, and including too much cruelty to be justified by any considerations.

He came, accompanied by Roche. He said, "M. Roche has explained to me in detail your son's illness and the treatment of it: we will go and see him." He examined his patient with great attention. On leaving the room he said, "this is a very serious malady, but I see no immediate danger."

He prescribed musk and bark: these medicines being proper for the typhus, prove what indeed has never been questioned, that he knew, from the first, the nature of the complaint. The languid state of my younger son was mentioned to him; he smiled on him good-naturedly, took his hand, but made no remark, giving at the same time a significant look at Roche.

The servant met them descending the stairs; Guerard wringing his hands, and Roche looking, as the man expressed himself, like a scolded child, "un enfant gronde." By some fatality, Antoine did not speak of this till some days after the death of Kenelm: had it been mentioned at the time, it might have changed the whole state of things.

The next morning, Antoine asked Roche on his first visit, "Is M. Kenelm worse, Sir? M. Guerard seemed much disturbed yesterday." Roche said, "O no: all is going on well: he is better."

Guerard did not even order Roche's treatment, though contrary to the malady, to be discontinued; and Roche went on with his barley-water and calming potion conjointly with Guerard's prescribed medicines. After visiting four days, Guerard fell ill of the gout and was confined to his house: it was then agreed that Roche should report to him daily the state of the patient, and consult with him on the treatment.

My eldest daughter, subsequently to Guerard's first visit, was ill of a sore throat: had she taken the infection of the typhus, would these medical men still have persevered in their silence? A good providence was merciful. She recovered; we were less alarmed, as unaware of the extent of the danger; and it is not proved that the medical men were willing to a.s.sa.s.sinate more than two of the family.

Kenelm appeared to be somewhat benefited by Guerard's medicines; and the external application of camphor, now prescribed by Roche, mitigated the delirium, though it did not remove the cause. His brother said one day, "Let us try how far his mind is free:" and, taking the drawing before-mentioned of the infant Jesus, which had been framed and hung up in the first salon, he placed it at the foot of his brother's bed.

Kenelm looked at it for a short time with seeming pleasure, and then said, "Perhaps that may hereafter do me some little honour." Other indications he gave, that he thought his end to be near: he said to me, with a pensive and composed look,--"Monument? what monument shall I have?" He heard the bell of the church of St. Agricol, and cried, "Why do they ring that bell? I am not dead yet." On the twenty-fourth of September he said to his mother, "I dreamed last night that Mr. Roche took me into a church, and left me there, promising to bring me every day bread and water. He did so for some time; but one day he failed of coming, and I died. I thought in my dream that I made a very happy death: I am certain it is a very easy thing to make a happy death."

This dream evidently tranquillized and spoke peace to his soul: it was a merciful dispensation, when other means of spiritual comfort were rendered impossible by the delirium, which however left to his pious thoughts their direction and energy.

He had been, for some days before, a little better. The delirium was somewhat abated, and he seemed to have more strength; but on the twenty-fifth these favourable symptoms disappeared; this lightening before death vanished. On the evening of that day, the surgeon took upon himself to apply healing plasters to the blisters, without asking the opinion of Roche, who was present, and who, though unasked, to keep himself in countenance, gave his a.s.sent, saying, "C'est tres bien fait de M. Busquet."[72] Roche had evidently now lost all presence of mind: he knew not what to do; and no confidence could longer be placed in one who ceased even to affect to have any in himself. The next morning I sent him his discharge: he wrote me a letter full of respect and sensibility, complaining of this measure, and returning the fee. The custom of France is, that the physician is not paid till the termination of the malady: had Roche retained the fee, he would have acceded to his own dismissal, which he earnestly wished to be recalled, foreseeing that all must inevitably be known on the arrival of another physician.

Guerard too, who was still confined by the gout, made strong objections to the calling in another physician, whom I named to him, and who had studied with credit at Paris. He requested me to be contented that the surgeon, an able man, should make his report as Roche had done, and promised to call the next day in a "chaise a porteurs"--sedan-chair.

I had taken with me my younger son, intending to consult Guerard about him. In my confusion and anxiety, I forgot to do so; but Guerard, who knew the nature of the malady, and that I had been kept in the dark concerning it;--who knew that my younger son, ten days before, had been ill for some days--must have apprehended his state, even from his looks, and to this state consigned him. Roche, during his latter visits, had sedulously avoided paying attention to the younger son; and so slow at first was the advance of the illness, that we had neglected to call his attention that way. Roche too knew all. Had he continued his visits, I cannot tell what he would have done: perhaps he could not tell himself.

He could hardly have talked of a second "catarrhal nervous fever;" nor could Guerard have borne him out in it.

The next morning, the 27th, I called again on Guerard. On seeing me, he cried out, "Sir, I should have come to your house yesterday, but for the difficulty of mounting the stairs."--"You might have been carried up in an armchair by the porters."--"That shall be done to-morrow, if I am not strong enough to mount by myself: at any rate I will come to-morrow." He now, by my desire, felt my younger son's pulse. "He has some fever: he must be taken care of: I will come to-morrow." He well knew, though I did not, how urgent the case was: though regularly called upon to prescribe for my younger son, he thus evaded his duty. He added, referring to the elder son,--"M. Busquet is a clever man: he has my method, and will treat your son according to it. Another physician will, very likely, wish to try experiments."

If I admitted with such credulous facility the delays of this cold-hearted man and the fear of empiricism, which he artfully threw in, it was because I foresaw not the calamities that awaited me: could I even have foreseen them, I should not have suspected any one capable of thus trifling with a father of a family, who, in that quality, had thrown himself on his good faith, and, in his quality of stranger, in some sort on the good faith of his nation.

I acted even worse on the morrow. Guerard failed to come; I waited for him the whole day, and then did not even send to inquire after him. I do not pretend to excuse a conduct so inconsistent with my principles and feelings; yet be it remembered, sorrow and perturbation of mind are bad counsellors. Desponding and sick at heart, overcome by la.s.situde--I speak not of corporeal fatigue, for a messenger would have ascertained the failure of Guerard, and brought a physician in his stead--but overborne by the disappointment of the efforts I had made, and, later in the day, becoming sensible of the danger of Kenelm, I felt as if, like the father of Thessalonica, I could not help one son without abandoning the other. I acted wrong: it is some consolation to reflect that, whereas, on the following day, I found the physician who saved the life of my younger son; had I this day sent for one, that one might not have had the same success. For Kenelm, the delay imported not; his days were numbered. It may also be a palliation that, when his mother asked the surgeon what news she might send to her friends in England, he replied,--"You may tell them, Madam, that there is no danger."

In the evening of the same day, this same man said to me, "Your son is worse: your younger son also requires attention: I will go immediately to M. Guerard, and tell him it is absolutely necessary that a physician should visit them." He said also, "It would be better that the young ladies should not stay in their brother's chamber." I said, "We have been a.s.sured that there is no danger of contagion."--"There is always some danger." He spoke of the sisters who were present, and whose presence had always seemed to give pleasure to Kenelm. His brother was so weakened by the now rapid progress of his own malady, that, for two days, he had hardly pa.s.sed into this room, and had gone early to bed. It was now with him, as was known afterwards, the twelfth day of the fever.

He himself, from his own feelings a.s.serted that his disorder was the same as his brother's. The medical diagnosis was the same; yet to me, who could judge by appearances only, it seemed a perfectly different illness; the prostration of all the strength of the body was the only visible symptom, and this had come on gradually and quietly, had brought with it loss of spirits and of appet.i.te, had even affected the eye-sight, but without any occasional excitement, without delirium.

Towards midnight I took my station to watch by the bed-side of Kenelm with a presentiment, very naturally to be accounted for, that it was for the last time. He pa.s.sed the night in tolerable tranquillity, but, at day-break, he began to disturb and alarm us by loud and continued talking. At the same time his understanding seemed to be returning, as, amidst the extravagancies he uttered, he spoke of an occurrence in the life-time of his eldest sister, (little Mary he called her,) "but that was a long time ago; she has been dead fifteen years:" this was exact.

He said also, "I would give the world to be able to hold my tongue, but I seem to have something within me that forces me to talk." He talked in fact incessantly for six hours, till his voice even became hoa.r.s.e. This was the last effort of the victorious typhus: the gangrene of the bowels was now in operation; sickness came on.

Guerard had not rendered himself to the summons of the surgeon the evening before, nor to the repeated summons of the same messenger this morning. I hastened to his house: at eleven o'clock he was sitting in his arm chair: he had not even sent word that he could not come. I addressed him in a hurried manner:--"Is my son to take the bark, since he is vomiting?" Guerard, being deaf, and supposing my question to be a reiterated invitation, or complaint of his absence, declared his utter inability to visit me, concluding his excuses, with "Voici le medecin que je vous recommande,"[73] pointing to a person sitting near him, whom I had before met with, but did not recognise. Suspecting that Guerard's recommendation might proceed from jealousy of the other physician whom I had once named to him, I requested the stranger to give me his address, which he did; M. Breugne. I then repeated my question to Guerard, who, not hearing to the end, advised that the bark should be continued. M.

Breugne said, "Puisqu'il vomit?"[74] Guerard then said the bark must be suspended. I asked him what opinion he had formed on the report of the surgeon: to this a vague answer was given. M. Breugne said, that a physician could not judge of a patient's case by report: he gave some reasons for this opinion, concluding, "the pulse cannot be described." I took leave hastily and without explaining my intentions as to the successor to Roche and Guerard. This latter had no claim to know them. I wished to inform myself respecting M. Breugne.

The physician whom I had in my mind, had a high reputation, but was young, and consequently as yet had but little practice. I went up to my younger son's chamber, "Who is this M. Breugne?" said I. "He is the physician of the family of M. de R. of whom they all speak so highly."

Had the question been proposed to him an hour later, he would have been incapable of answering it, for then the stupor of the fever was fully come upon him. Had the stupor come upon him twelve hours later, he must have known of the death of his brother; and the effect of that knowledge, in his weak state, would most probably have been fatal to him.

I now recollected, concerning M. Breugne, what was amply sufficient to decide me in his favour. By way of making amends for my reserve, I went to his house myself. He promised to come in ten minutes: that s.p.a.ce of time I employed in helping my younger son to dress, and come down stairs: the fatigue of these operations was to him excessive; arrived at the door of the first salon, he looked at the sofa, as if he wished it to come to meet him, made a few hasty and tottering steps, and threw himself upon it, quite exhausted. He desired that it might be turned with its back to the windows, as the light importuned him: this was done, and the large round table was pushed from the centre of the salon towards one side, that there might be s.p.a.ce between it and the sofa.

This trifling circ.u.mstance is not mentioned idly; it will be seen hereafter to have its meaning.

Who can deny the existence of a superintending, a particular Providence, when he observes, that the mental faculties of my younger son were continued to him, as if on purpose that he might a.s.sist me in determining on the choice of the physician who rescued him from death, and that they were then temporarily suspended precisely at the time when it became necessary that he should be kept in ignorance of what, if known, would have r.e.t.a.r.ded or prevented his restoration to health? Is it presumption in me to think, that even my negligence of the former day, when I waited so long for Guerard without taking any steps to replace him, may have been regulated, that the merciful dispensations of a good Providence might have their way? I advance this conjecture in all humility, and corrected by a sense of my own unworthiness.

FOOTNOTES:

[71] "M. Roche is your physician."--"_You_ are my physician also."

[72] It is very well done of M. Busquet.

[73] Here is the physician whom I recommend to you.

[74] Since he is vomiting?

CHAP. XVIII.

M. Breugne, entering the room and seeing his younger patient stretched on the sofa, went first to him: after a short examination, he said: "Il a la fievre typhus, et, a en juger par la gravite des symptomes, il l'a eu depuis huit a dix jours: il doit l'avoir gagnee de M. son frere aine, que je n'ai pas encore vu."[75] I led him into the inner salon. He felt the pulse of the elder son; his mother was standing by the bed-side: he looked at what Kenelm had thrown from his stomach: the mother asked if it was the bark; "Non, Madam, ce n'est pas cela;" and, with a look of dreadful import, he led me out of the room, and, with a hurried under voice, said, "C'en est fait de lui: sauvons l'autre: qu'il soit monte au second; que ses soeurs ne mettent pas meme le pied sur l'escalier."[76]

All was now at once revealed. Breugne, overcome by the impetuosity of his own feelings, did not give himself time to reflect with how little preparation or management he made known to me the certain death of one son, the uncertain fate of the other, and the danger of all the family.

I was stunned, but not surprised.

He prescribed for the two brothers; "With respect to the elder, we will do our duty; but it is useless, and may torment him; he has not two days to live; indeed I fear he will not pa.s.s the night: for the younger, I can a.s.sure you of nothing; I have hope: I have followed, as physician, the armies of Italy, and have attended, it may be, a thousand persons under this disorder; I have lost but two or three, and then only through some fault of the patient; but here, in the case of your younger son, this fault exists,--he has been ten days without treatment, without medical aid." He returned at five o'clock in the afternoon, and gave more particular directions concerning him, confirming his opinion, that Kenelm could not live over the night. Two hours later, the surgeon called as usual, but proposed not to dress the blisters till next morning. How we cling to the possession of a beloved object!

Notwithstanding what she had heard and what she saw before her, the mother was alarmed, and cried out, "You think he will not live till morning?" Not less grieved, but more resolute, I touched the sole of Kenelm's foot, and said to the surgeon, "He is already cold here:" the surgeon, touching the upper part of the foot, said, "There is warmth here:" "Yes," said I, "the natural heat is retiring." The surgeon made no reply. To calm the mother's fears, he seemed to dress the blisters; and so the work of these medical men was ended.