SIR CHARLES GRANDISON, TO DR. BARTLETT
BOLOGNA, WEDNESDAY, MAY 10-21.
I told you, my dear and reverend friend, that I should hardly write to
you till I arrived in this city.
The affair of my executorship obliged me to stay a day longer at Paris
than I intended; but I have put every thing relating to that trust in
such a way, as to answer all my wishes.
Mr. Lowther wrote to Mr. Arnold, a friend of his in London, the
particulars of the extraordinary affair we were engaged in between St.
Denis and Paris; with desire that he would inform my friends of our
arrival at that capital.
We were obliged to stop two days at St. Jean de Maurienne. The
expedition we travelled with was too much for Mr. Lowther; and I
expected, and was not disappointed, from the unusual backwardness of the
season, to find the passage over Mount Cenis less agreeable than it
usually is in the beginning of May.
The bishop of Nocera had offered to meet me any where on his side of the
mountains. I wrote to him from Lyons, that I hoped to see him at Parma,
on or about the very day that I was so fortunate as to reach the palace
of the Count of Belvedere in that city; where I found, that he and Father
Marescotti had arrived the evening before. They, as well as the count,
expressed great joy to see me; and when I presented Mr. Lowther to them,
with the praises due to his skill, and let them know the consultations I
had had with eminent physicians of my own country on Lady Clementina's
case, they invoked blessings upon us both, and would not be interrupted
in them by my eager questions after the health and state of mind of the
two dearest persons of their family.--Unhappy! very unhappy! said the
bishop. Let us give you some refreshment, before we come to particulars.
To my repeated inquiries, Jeronymo, poor Jeronymo! said the bishop, is
living, and that is all we can say.--The sight of you will be a cordial
to his heart. Clementina is on her journey to Bologna from Naples. You
desired to find her with us, and not at Naples. She is weak; is obliged
to travel slowly. She will rest at Urbino two or three days. Dear
creature! What has she not suffered from the cruelty of her cousin
Laurana, as well as from her malady! The general has been, and is,
indulgent to her. He is married to a lady of great merit, quality, and
fortune. He has, at length, consented that we shall try this last
experiment, as the hearts of my mother and now lately of my father, as
well as mine, are in it. His lady would not be denied accompanying my
sister; and as my brother could not bear being absent from her, he
travels with them. I wish he had stayed at Naples. I hope, however, he
will be as ready, as you will find us all, to acknowledge the favour of
this visit, and the fatigue and trouble you have given yourself on our
account.
As to my sister's bodily health, proceeded he, it is greatly impaired.
We are almost hopeless, with regard to the state of her mind. She speaks
not; she answers not any questions. Camilla is with her. She seems
regardless of any body else. She has been told, that the general is
married. His lady makes great court to her; but she heeds her not. We
are in hopes, that my mother, on her return to Bologna, will engage her
attention. She never yet was so bad as to forget her duty, either to
God, or her parents. Sometimes Camilla thinks she pays some little
attention to your name; but then she instantly starts, as in terror;
looks round her with fear; puts her finger to her lips, as if she dreaded
her cruel cousin Laurana should be told of her having heard it mentioned.
The bishop and father both regretted that she had been denied the
requested interview. They were now, they said, convinced, that if that
had been granted, and she had been left to Mrs. Beaumont's friendly care,
a happy issue might have been hoped for: But now, said the bishop--Then
sighed, and was silent.
I despatched Saunders, early the next morning, to Bologna, to procure
convenient lodgings for me, and Mr. Lowther.
In the afternoon we set out for that city. The Count of Belvedere found
an opportunity to let me know his unabated passion for Clementina, and
that he had lately made overtures to marry her, notwithstanding her
malady; having been advised, he said, by proper persons, that as it was
not an hereditary, but an accidental disorder, it might be, in time,
curable. He accompanied us about half way in our journey; and, at
parting, Remember, chevalier, whispered he, that Clementina is the soul
of my hope: I cannot forego that hope. No other woman will I ever call
mine.
I heard him in silence: I admired him for his attachment: I pitied him.
He said, he would tell me more of his mind at Bologna.
We reached Bologna on the 15th, N.S. Saunders had engaged for me the
lodgings I had before.
Our conversation on the road turned chiefly on the case of Signor
Jeronymo. The bishop and father were highly pleased with the skill,
founded on practice, which evidently appeared in all that Mr. Lowther
said on the subject: and the bishop once intimated, that, be the event
what it would, his journey to Italy should be made the most beneficial
affair to him he had ever engaged in. Mr. Lowther replied, that as he
was neither a necessitous nor a mean-spirited man, and had reason to be
entirely satisfied with the terms I had already secured to him; he should
take it unkindly, if any other reward were offered him.
Think, my dear Dr. Bartlett, what emotions I must have on entering, once
more, the gates of the Porretta palace, though Clementina was not there.
I hastened up to my Jeronymo, who had been apprized of my arrival. The
moment he saw me, Do I once more, said he, behold my friend, my
Grandison? Let me embrace the dearest of men. Now, now, have I lived
long enough. He bowed his head upon his pillow, and meditated me; his
countenance shining with pleasure in defiance of pain.
The bishop entered: he could not be present at our first interview.
My lord, said Jeronymo, make it your care that my dear friend be treated,
by every soul of our family, with the gratitude and respect which are due
to his goodness. Methinks I am easier and happier, this moment, than I
have been for the tedious space of time since I last saw him. He named
that space of time to the day, and to the very hour of the day.
The marquis and marchioness signifying their pleasure to see me, the
bishop led me to them. My reception from the marquis was kind; from his
lady it was as that of a mother to a long-absent son. I had ever been,
she was pleased to say, a fourth son in her eye; and now, that she had
been informed that I had brought over with me a surgeon of experience,
and the advice in writing of eminent physicians of my country, the
obligations I had laid on their whole family, whatever were the success,
were unreturnable.
I asked leave to introduce Mr. Lowther to them. They received him with
great politeness, and recommended their Jeronymo to his best skill. Mr.
Lowther's honest heart was engaged, by a reception so kind. He never, he
told me afterwards, beheld so much pleasure and pain struggling in the
same countenance, as in that of the lady; so fixed a melancholy, as in
that of the marquis.
Mr. Lowther is a man of spirit, though a modest man. He is, as on every
proper occasion I found, a man of piety; and has a heart tender as manly.
Such a man, heart and hand, is qualified for a profession which is the
most useful and certain in the art of healing. He is a man of sense and
learning out of his profession, and happy in his address.
The two surgeons who now attend Signor Jeronymo, are both of this
country. They were sent for. With the approbation, and at the request,
of the family, I presented Mr. Lowther to them; but first gave them his
character, as a modest man, as a man of skill, and experience; and told
them, that he had quitted business, and wanted not either fame or
fortune.
They acquainted him with the case, and their methods of proceeding. Mr.
Lowther assisted in the dressings that very evening. Jeronymo would have
me to be present. Mr. Lowther suggested an alteration in their method,
but in so easy and gentle a manner, as if he doubted not, but such was
their intention when the state of the wounds would admit of that method
of treatment, that the gentlemen came readily into it. A great deal of
matter had been collected, by means of the wrong methods pursued; and he
proposed, if the patient's strength would bear it, to make an aperture
below the principal wound, in order to discharge the matter downward; and
he suggested the dressing with hollow tents and bandage, and to dismiss
the large tents, with which they had been accustomed to distend the
wound, to the extreme anguish of the patient, on pretence of keeping it
open, to assist the discharge.
Let me now give you, my dear friend, a brief history of my Jeronymo's
case, and of the circumstances which have attended it; by which you will
be able to account for the difficulties of it, and how it has happened,
that, in such a space of time, either the cure was not effected, or that
the patient yielded not to the common destiny.
In lingering cases, patients or their friends are sometimes too apt to
blame their physicians, and to listen to new recommendations. The
surgeons attending this unhappy case, had been more than once changed.
Signor Jeronymo, it seems, was unskilfully treated by the young surgeon
of Cremona, who was first engaged: he neglected the most dangerous wound;
and, when he attended to it, managed it wrong, for want of experience.
He is, therefore, very properly dismissed.
The unhappy man had at first three wounds: one in his breast, which had
been for some time healed; one in his shoulder, which, through his own
impatience, having been too suddenly healed up, was obliged to be laid
open again: the other, which is the most dangerous, in the hip-joint.
A surgeon of this place, and another of Padua, were next employed. The
cure not advancing, a surgeon of eminence, from Paris, was sent for.
Mr. Lowther tells me, that this man's method was by far the most
eligible; but that he undertook too much; since, from the first, there
could not be any hope, from the nature of the wound in the hip-joint,
that the patient could ever walk, without sticks or crutches: and of this
opinion were the other two surgeons: but the French gentleman was so very
pragmatical, that he would neither draw with them, nor give reasons for
what he did; regarding them only as his assistants. They could not long
bear this usage, and gave up to him in disgust.
How cruel is punctilio, among men of this science, in cases of difficulty
and danger!
The present operators, when the two others had given up, were not, but by
leave of the French gentleman, called in. He valuing himself on his
practice in the Royal Hospital of Invalids at Paris, looked upon them as
theorists only; and treated them with as little ceremony as he had shewn
the others: so that at last, from their frequent differences, it became
necessary to part with either him, or them. His pride, when he knew that
this question was a subject of debate, would not allow him to leave the
family an option. He made his demand: it was complied with; and he
returned to Paris.
From what this gentleman threw out at parting, to the disparagement of
the two others, Signor Jeronymo suspected their skill; and from a hint of
this suspicion, as soon as I knew I should be welcome myself, I procured
the favour of Mr. Lowther's attendance.
All Mr. Lowther's fear is, that Signor Jeronymo has been kept too long in
hand by the different managements of the several operators; and that he
will sink under the necessary process, through weakness of habit. But,
however, he is of opinion, that it is requisite to confine him to a
strict diet, and to deny him wine and fermented liquors, in which he has
hitherto been indulged, against the opinion of his own operators, who
have been too complaisant to his appetite.
An operation somewhat severe was performed on his shoulder yesterday
morning. The Italian surgeons complimented Mr. Lowther with the lancet.
They both praised his dexterity; and Signor Jeronymo, who will be
consulted on every thing that he is to suffer, blessed his gentle hand.
At Mr. Lowther's request, a physician was yesterday consulted; who
advised some gentle aperitives, as his strength will bear it; and some
balsamics, to sweeten the blood and juices.
Mr. Lowther told me just now, that the fault of the gentlemen who have
now the care of him, has not been want of skill, but of critical courage,
and a too great solicitude to oblige their patient; which, by their own
account, had made them forego several opportunities which had offered to
assist nature. In short, sir, said he, your friend knows too much of his
own case to be ruled, and too little to qualify him to direct what is to
be done, especially as symptoms must have been frequently changing.
Mr. Lowther doubts not, he says, but he shall soon convince Jeronymo that
he merits his confidence, and then he will exact it from him; and, in so
doing, shall not only give weight to his own endeavours to serve him, but
rid the other two gentlemen of embarrasments which have often given them
diffidences, when resolution was necessary.
In the mean time the family here are delighted with Mr. Lowther. They
will flatter themselves, they say, with hopes of their Jeronymo's
recovery; which, however, Mr. Lowther, for fear of disappointment, does
not encourage. Jeronymo himself owns, that his spirits are much revived;
and we all know the power that the mind has over the body.
Thus have I given you, my reverend friend, a general notion of Jeronymo's
case, as I understand it from Mr. Lowther's as general representation of
it.
He has prevailed upon him to accept of an apartment adjoining to that of
his patient. Jeronymo said, that when he knows he has so skilful a
friend near him, he shall go to rest with confidence; and good rest is of
the highest consequence to him. What a happiness, my dear Dr. Bartlett,
will fall to my share, if I may be an humble instrument, in the hand of
Providence, to heal this brother; and if his recovery shall lead the way
to the restoration of his sister; each so known a lover of the other,
that the world is more ready to attribute her malady to his misfortune
and danger, than to any other cause! But how early days are these, on
which my love and my compassion for persons so meritorious, embolden me
to build such forward hopes!
Lady Clementina is now impatiently expected by every one. She is at
Urbino. The general and his lady are with her. His haughty spirit
cannot bear to think she should see me, or that my attendance on her
should be thought of so much importance to her.
The marchioness, in a conversation that I have just now had with her,
hinted this to me, and besought me to keep my temper, if his high notion
of family and female honour should carry him out of his usual politeness.