I wandered over this deserted mansion, in a considerable degree, at
random. Effluvia of a pestilential nature assailed me from every corner.
In the front room of the second story, I imagined that I discovered
vestiges of that catastrophe which the past night had produced. The bed
appeared as if some one had recently been dragged from it. The sheets
were tinged with yellow, and with that substance which is said to be
characteristic of this disease, the gangrenous or black vomit. The floor
exhibited similar stains.
There are many who will regard my conduct as the last refinement of
temerity, or of heroism. Nothing, indeed, more perplexes me than a
review of my own conduct. Not, indeed, that death is an object always to
be dreaded, or that my motive did not justify my actions; but of all
dangers, those allied to pestilence, by being mysterious and unseen, are
the most formidable. To disarm them of their terrors requires the
longest familiarity. Nurses and physicians soonest become intrepid or
indifferent; but the rest of mankind recoil from the scene with
unconquerable loathing.
I was sustained, not by confidence of safety, and a belief of exemption
from this malady, or by the influence of habit, which inures us to all
that is detestable or perilous, but by a belief that this was as
eligible an avenue to death as any other; and that life is a trivial
sacrifice in the cause of duty.
I passed from one room to the other. A portmanteau, marked with the
initials of Wallace's name, at length attracted my notice. From this
circumstance I inferred that this apartment had been occupied by him.
The room was neatly arranged, and appeared as if no one had lately used
it. There were trunks and drawers. That which I have mentioned was the
only one that bore marks of Wallace's ownership. This I lifted in my
arms with a view to remove it to Medlicote's house.
At that moment, methought I heard a footstep slowly and lingeringly
ascending the stair. I was disconcerted at this incident. The footstep
had in it a ghost-like solemnity and tardiness. This phantom vanished in
a moment, and yielded place to more humble conjectures. A human being
approached, whose office and commission were inscrutable. That we were
strangers to each other was easily imagined; but how would my
appearance, in this remote chamber, and loaded with another's property,
be interpreted? Did he enter the house after me, or was he the tenant of
some chamber hitherto unvisited; whom my entrance had awakened from his
trance and called from his couch?
In the confusion of my mind, I still held my burden uplifted. To have
placed it on the floor, and encountered this visitant, without this
equivocal token about me, was the obvious proceeding. Indeed, time only
could decide whether these footsteps tended to this, or to some other,
apartment.
My doubts were quickly dispelled. The door opened, and a figure glided
in. The portmanteau dropped from my arms, and my heart's blood was
chilled. If an apparition of the dead were possible, (and that
possibility I could not deny,) this was such an apparition. A hue,
yellowish and livid; bones, uncovered with flesh; eyes, ghastly, hollow,
woe-begone, and fixed in an agony of wonder upon me; and locks, matted
and negligent, constituted the image which I now beheld. My belief of
somewhat preternatural in this appearance was confirmed by recollection
of resemblances between these features and those of one who was dead. In
this shape and visage, shadowy and death-like as they were, the
lineaments of Wallace, of him who had misled my rustic simplicity on my
first visit to this city, and whose death I had conceived to be
incontestably ascertained, were forcibly recognised.
This recognition, which at first alarmed my superstition, speedily led
to more rational inferences. Wallace had been dragged to the hospital.
Nothing was less to be suspected than that he would return alive from
that hideous receptacle, but this was by no means impossible. The figure
that stood before me had just risen from the bed of sickness, and from
the brink of the grave. The crisis of his malady had passed, and he was
once more entitled to be ranked among the living.
This event, and the consequences which my imagination connected with it,
filled me with the liveliest joy. I thought not of his ignorance of the
causes of my satisfaction, of the doubts to which the circumstances of
our interview would give birth, respecting the integrity of my purpose.
I forgot the artifices by which I had formerly been betrayed, and the
embarrassments which a meeting with the victim of his artifices would
excite in him; I thought only of the happiness which his recovery would
confer upon his uncle and his cousins.
I advanced towards him with an air of congratulation, and offered him my
hand. He shrunk back, and exclaimed, in a feeble voice, "Who are you?
What business have you here?"
"I am the friend of Wallace, if he will allow me to be so. I am a
messenger from your uncle and cousins at _Malverton_. I came to know the
cause of your silence, and to afford you any assistance in my power."
He continued to regard me with an air of suspicion and doubt. These I
endeavoured to remove by explaining the motives that led me hither. It
was with difficulty that he seemed to credit my representations. When
thoroughly convinced of the truth of my assertions, he inquired with
great anxiety and tenderness concerning his relations; and expressed his
hope that they were ignorant of what had befallen him.
I could not encourage his hopes. I regretted my own precipitation in
adopting the belief of his death. This belief had been uttered with
confidence, and without stating my reasons for embracing it, to Mr.
Hadwin. These tidings would be borne to his daughters, and their grief
would be exasperated to a deplorable and perhaps to a fatal degree.
There was but one method of repairing or eluding this mischief.
Intelligence ought to be conveyed to them of his recovery. But where was
the messenger to be found? No one's attention could be found disengaged
from his own concerns. Those who were able or willing to leave the city
had sufficient motives for departure, in relation to themselves. If
vehicle or horse were procurable for money, ought it not to be secured
for the use of Wallace himself, whose health required the easiest and
speediest conveyance from this theatre of death?
My companion was powerless in mind as in limbs. He seemed unable to
consult upon the means of escaping from the inconveniences by which he
was surrounded. As soon as sufficient strength was regained, he had left
the hospital. To repair to _Malverton_ was the measure which prudence
obviously dictated; but he was hopeless of effecting it. The city was
close at hand; this was his usual home; and hither his tottering and
almost involuntary steps conducted him.
He listened to my representations and counsels, and acknowledged their
propriety. He put himself under my protection and guidance, and promised
to conform implicitly to my directions. His strength had sufficed to
bring him thus far, but was now utterly exhausted. The task of searching
for a carriage and horse devolved upon me.
In effecting this purpose, I was obliged to rely upon my own ingenuity
and diligence. Wallace, though so long a resident in the city, knew not
to whom I could apply, or by whom carriages were let to hire. My own
reflections taught me, that this accommodation was most likely to be
furnished by innkeepers, or that some of those might at least inform me
of the best measures to be taken. I resolved to set out immediately on
this search. Meanwhile, Wallace was persuaded to take refuge in
Medlicote's apartments; and to make, by the assistance of Austin, the
necessary preparation for his journey.
The morning had now advanced. The rays of a sultry sun had a sickening
and enfeebling influence beyond any which I had ever experienced. The
drought of unusual duration had bereft the air and the earth of every
particle of moisture. The element which I breathed appeared to have
stagnated into noxiousness and putrefaction. I was astonished at
observing the enormous diminution of my strength. My brows were heavy,
my intellects benumbed, my sinews enfeebled, and my sensations
universally unquiet.
These prognostics were easily interpreted. What I chiefly dreaded was,
that they would disable me from executing the task which I had
undertaken. I summoned up all my resolution, and cherished a disdain of
yielding to this ignoble destiny. I reflected that the source of all
energy, and even of life, is seated in thought; that nothing is arduous
to human efforts; that the external frame will seldom languish, while
actuated by an unconquerable soul.
I fought against my dreary feelings, which pulled me to the earth. I
quickened my pace, raised my drooping eyelids, and hummed a cheerful and
favourite air. For all that I accomplished during this day, I believe
myself indebted to the strenuousness and ardour of my resolutions.
I went from one tavern to another. One was deserted; in another the
people were sick, and their attendants refused to hearken to my
inquiries or offers; at a third, their horses were engaged. I was
determined to prosecute my search as long as an inn or a livery-stable
remained unexamined, and my strength would permit.
To detail the events of this expedition, the arguments and supplications
which I used to overcome the dictates of avarice and fear, the
fluctuation of my hopes and my incessant disappointments, would be
useless. Having exhausted all my expedients ineffectually, I was
compelled to turn my weary steps once more to Medlicote's lodgings.
My meditations were deeply engaged by the present circumstances of my
situation. Since the means which were first suggested were
impracticable, I endeavoured to investigate others. Wallace's debility
made it impossible for him to perform this journey on foot; but would
not his strength and his resolution suffice to carry him beyond
Schuylkill? A carriage or horse, though not to be obtained in the city,
could, without difficulty, be procured in the country. Every farmer had
beasts for burden and draught. One of these might be hired, at no
immoderate expense, for half a day.
This project appeared so practicable and so specious, that I deeply
regretted the time and the efforts which had already been so fruitlessly
expended. If my project, however, had been mischievous, to review it
with regret was only to prolong and to multiply its mischiefs. I trusted
that time and strength would not be wanting to the execution of this new
design.
On entering Medlicote's house, my looks, which, in spite of my languors,
were sprightly and confident, flattered Wallace with the belief that my
exertions had succeeded. When acquainted with their failure, he sunk as
quickly into hopelessness. My new expedient was heard by him with no
marks of satisfaction. It was impossible, he said, to move from this
spot by his own strength. All his powers were exhausted by his walk from
Bush Hill.
I endeavoured, by arguments and railleries, to revive his courage. The
pure air of the country would exhilarate him into new life. He might
stop at every fifty yards, and rest upon the green sod. If overtaken by
the night, we would procure a lodging, by address and importunity; but,
if every door should be shut against us, we should at least enjoy the
shelter of some barn, and might diet wholesomely upon the new-laid eggs
that we should find there. The worst treatment we could meet with was
better than continuance in the city.
These remonstrances had some influence, and he at length consented to
put his ability to the test. First, however, it was necessary to
invigorate himself by a few hours' rest. To this, though with infinite
reluctance, I consented.
This interval allowed him to reflect upon the past, and to inquire into
the fate of Thetford and his family. The intelligence which Medlicote
had enabled me to afford him was heard with more satisfaction than
regret. The ingratitude and cruelty with which he had been treated
seemed to have extinguished every sentiment but hatred and vengeance. I
was willing to profit by this interval to know more of Thetford than I
already possessed. I inquired why Wallace had so perversely neglected
the advice of his uncle and cousin, and persisted to brave so many
dangers when flight was so easy.
"I cannot justify my conduct," answered he. "It was in the highest
degree thoughtless and perverse. I was confident and unconcerned as long
as our neighbourhood was free from disease, and as long as I forbore any
communication with the sick; yet I should have withdrawn to Malverton,
merely to gratify my friends, if Thetford had not used the most powerful
arguments to detain me. He laboured to extenuate the danger.
"'Why not stay,' said he, 'as long as I and my family stay? Do you think
that we would linger here, if the danger were imminent? As soon as it
becomes so, we will fly. You know that we have a country-house prepared
for our reception. When we go, you shall accompany us. Your services at
this time are indispensable to my affairs. If you will not desert me,
your salary next year shall be double; and that will enable you to marry
your cousin immediately. Nothing is more improbable than that any of us
should be sick; but, if this should happen to you, I plight my honour
that you shall be carefully and faithfully attended.'
"These assurances were solemn and generous. To make Susan Hadwin my wife
was the scope of all my wishes and labours. By staying, I should hasten
this desirable event, and incur little hazard. By going, I should
alienate the affections of Thetford; by whom, it is but justice to
acknowledge, that I had hitherto been treated with unexampled generosity
and kindness; and blast all the schemes I had formed for rising into
wealth.
"My resolution was by no means steadfast. As often as a letter from
_Malverton_ arrived, I felt myself disposed to hasten away; but this
inclination was combated by new arguments and new entreaties of
Thetford.
"In this state of suspense, the girl by whom Mrs. Thetford's infant was
nursed fell sick. She was an excellent creature, and merited better
treatment than she received. Like me, she resisted the persuasions of
her friends, but her motives for remaining were disinterested and
heroic.
"No sooner did her indisposition appear, than she was hurried to the
hospital. I saw that no reliance could be placed upon the assurances of
Thetford. Every consideration gave way to his fear of death. After the
girl's departure, though he knew that she was led by his means to
execution, yet he consoled himself by repeating and believing her
assertions, that her disease was not _the fever_.
"I was now greatly alarmed for my own safety. I was determined to
encounter his anger and repel his persuasions; and to depart with the
market-man next morning. That night, however, I was seized with a
violent fever. I knew in what manner patients were treated at the
hospital, and removal thither was to the last degree abhorred.
"The morning arrived, and my situation was discovered. At the first
intimation, Thetford rushed out of the house, and refused to re-enter it
till I was removed. I knew not my fate, till three ruffians made their
appearance at my bedside, and communicated their commission.
"I called on the name of Thetford and his wife. I entreated a moment's
delay, till I had seen these persons, and endeavoured to procure a
respite from my sentence. They were deaf to my entreaties, and prepared
to execute their office by force. I was delirious with rage and terror.
I heaped the bitterest execrations on my murderer; and by turns, invoked
the compassion of, and poured a torrent of reproaches on, the wretches
whom he had selected for his ministers. My struggles and outcries were
vain.
"I have no perfect recollection of what passed till my arrival at the
hospital. My passions combined with my disease to make me frantic and
wild. In a state like mine, the slightest motion could not be endured
without agony. What then must I have felt, scorched and dazzled by the
sun, sustained by hard boards, and borne for miles over a rugged
pavement?
"I cannot make you comprehend the anguish of my feelings. To be
disjointed and torn piecemeal by the rack was a torment inexpressibly
inferior to this. Nothing excites my wonder but that I did not expire
before the cart had moved three paces.
"I knew not how, or by whom, I was moved from this vehicle.
Insensibility came at length to my relief. After a time I opened my
eyes, and slowly gained some knowledge of my situation. I lay upon a
mattress, whose condition proved that a half-decayed corpse had recently
been dragged from it. The room was large, but it was covered with beds
like my own. Between each, there was scarcely the interval of three
feet. Each sustained a wretch, whose groans and distortions bespoke the
desperateness of his condition.
"The atmosphere was loaded by mortal stenches. A vapour, suffocating and
malignant, scarcely allowed me to breathe. No suitable receptacle was
provided for the evacuations produced by medicine or disease. My nearest
neighbour was struggling with death, and my bed, casually extended, was
moist with the detestable matter which had flowed from his stomach.
"You will scarcely believe that, in this scene of horrors, the sound of
laughter should be overheard. While the upper rooms of this building are
filled with the sick and the dying, the lower apartments are the scene
of carousals and mirth. The wretches who are hired, at enormous wages,
to tend the sick and convey away the dead, neglect their duty, and
consume the cordials which are provided for the patients, in debauchery
and riot.
"A female visage, bloated with malignity and drunkenness, occasionally
looked in. Dying eyes were cast upon her, invoking the boon, perhaps, of
a drop of cold water, or her assistance to change a posture which
compelled him to behold the ghastly writhings or deathful _smile_ of his
neighbour.
"The visitant had left the banquet for a moment, only to see who was
dead. If she entered the room, blinking eyes and reeling steps showed
her to be totally unqualified for ministering the aid that was needed.
Presently she disappeared, and others ascended the staircase, a coffin
was deposited at the door, the wretch, whose heart still quivered, was
seized by rude hands, and dragged along the floor into the passage.
"Oh! how poor are the conceptions which are formed, by the fortunate
few, of the sufferings to which millions of their fellow-beings are
condemned. This misery was more frightful, because it was seen to flow
from the depravity of the attendants. My own eyes only would make me
credit the existence of wickedness so enormous. No wonder that to die in
garrets, and cellars, and stables, unvisited and unknown, had, by so
many, been preferred to being brought hither.
"A physician cast an eye upon my state. He gave some directions to the
person who attended him. I did not comprehend them, they were never
executed by the nurses, and, if the attempt had been made, I should
probably have refused to receive what was offered. Recovery was equally
beyond my expectations and my wishes. The scene which was hourly
displayed before me, the entrance of the sick, most of whom perished in
a few hours, and their departure to the graves prepared for them,
reminded me of the fate to which I, also, was reserved.
"Three days passed away, in which every hour was expected to be the
last. That, amidst an atmosphere so contagious and deadly, amidst causes
of destruction hourly accumulating, I should yet survive, appears to me
nothing less than miraculous. That of so many conducted to this house
the only one who passed out of it alive should be myself almost
surpasses my belief.
"Some inexplicable principle rendered harmless those potent enemies of
human life. My fever subsided and vanished. My strength was revived, and
the first use that I made of my limbs was to bear me far from the
contemplation and sufferance of those evils."