THE abbess of _Andoüillets_, which if you look into the large set of
provincial maps now publishing at _Paris_, you will find situated
amongst the hills which divide _Burgundy_ from _Savoy_, being in danger
of an _Anchylosis_ or stiff joint (the _sinovia_ of her knee becoming
hard by long matins), and having tried every remedy——first, prayers and
thanksgiving; then invocations to all the saints in heaven
promiscuously——then particularly to every saint who had ever had a
stiff leg before her——then touching it with all the reliques of the
convent, principally with the thigh-bone of the man of _Lystra_, who
had been impotent from his youth——then wrapping it up in her veil when
she went to bed—then cross-wise her rosary—then bringing in to her aid
the secular arm, and anointing it with oils and hot fat of
animals——then treating it with emollient and resolving
fomentations——then with poultices of marsh-mallows, mallows, bonus
Henricus, white lillies and fenugreek—then taking the woods, I mean the
smoak of ’em, holding her scapulary across her lap——then decoctions of
wild chicory, water-cresses, chervil, sweet cecily and cochlearia——and
nothing all this while answering, was prevailed on at last to try the
hot-baths of _Bourbon_——so having first obtained leave of the
visitor-general to take care of her existence—she ordered all to be got
ready for her journey: a novice of the convent of about seventeen, who
had been troubled with a whitloe in her middle finger, by sticking it
constantly into the abbess’s cast poultices, &c.—had gained such an
interest, that overlooking a sciatical old nun, who might have been set
up for ever by the hot-baths of _Bourbon, Margarita_, the little
novice, was elected as the companion of the journey.
An old calesh, belonging to the abbesse, lined with green frize, was
ordered to be drawn out into the sun—the gardener of the convent being
chosen muleteer, led out the two old mules, to clip the hair from the
rump- ends of their tails, whilst a couple of lay-sisters were busied,
the one in darning the lining, and the other in sewing on the shreds of
yellow binding, which the teeth of time had unravelled——the
under-gardener dress’d the muleteer’s hat in hot wine-lees——and a
taylor sat musically at it, in a shed over-against the convent, in
assorting four dozen of bells for the harness, whistling to each bell,
as he tied it on with a thong.——
——The carpenter and the smith of _Andoüillets_ held a council of
wheels; and by seven, the morning after, all look’d spruce, and was
ready at the gate of the convent for the hot-baths of _Bourbon_—two
rows of the unfortunate stood ready there an hour before.
The abbess of _Andoüillets_, supported by _Margarita_ the novice,
advanced slowly to the calesh, both clad in white, with their black
rosaries hanging at their breasts——
——There was a simple solemnity in the contrast: they entered the
calesh; the nuns in the same uniform, sweet emblem of innocence, each
occupied a window, and as the abbess and _Margarita_ look’d up—each
(the sciatical poor nun excepted)—each stream’d out the end of her veil
in the air—then kiss’d the lilly hand which let it go: the good abbess
and _Margarita_ laid their hands saint-wise upon their breasts—look’d
up to heaven—then to them—and look’d “God bless you, dear sisters.”