CHAPTER VI.
Constantia had now leisure to ruminate upon her own condition. Every dayadded to the devastation and confusion of the city. The most populousstreets were deserted and silent. The greater number of inhabitants hadfled; and those who remained were occupied with no cares but those whichrelated to their own safety. The labours of the artisan and thespeculations of the merchant were suspended. All shops but those of theapothecaries were shut. No carriage but the hearse was seen, and thiswas employed night and day in the removal of the dead. The customarysources of subsistence were cut off. Those whose fortunes enabled themto leave the city, but who had deferred till now their retreat, weredenied an asylum by the terror which pervaded the adjacent country, andby the cruel prohibitions which the neighbouring towns and citiesthought it necessary to adopt. Those who lived by the fruits of theirdaily labour were subjected, in this total inactivity, to thealternative of starving, or of subsisting upon public charity.
The meditations of Constantia suggested no alternative but this. Theexactions of M'Crea had reduced her whole fortune to five dollars. Thiswould rapidly decay, and her utmost ingenuity could discover no means ofprocuring a new supply. All the habits of their life had combined tofill both her father and herself with aversion to the acceptance ofcharity. Yet this avenue, opprobrious and disgustful as it was, affordedthe only means of escaping from the worst extremes of famine.
In this state of mind it was obvious to consider in what way the sumremaining might be most usefully expended. Every species of provisionwas not equally nutritious or equally cheap. Her mind, active in thepursuit of knowledge and fertile of resources, had lately been engaged,in discussing with her father the best means of retaining health in atime of pestilence. On occasions, when the malignity of contagiousdiseases has been most signal, some individuals have escaped. For theirsafety they were doubtless indebted to some peculiarities in theirconstitution or habits. Their diet, their dress, their kind and degreeof exercise, must somewhat have contributed to their exemption from thecommon destiny. These, perhaps, could be ascertained, and when known itwas surely proper to conform to them.
In discussing these ideas, Mr. Dudley introduced the mention of aBenedictine of Messina, who, during the prevalence of the plague in thatcity, was incessantly engaged in administering assistance to those whoneeded. Notwithstanding his perpetual hazards he retained perfecthealth, and was living thirty years after this event. During this periodhe fostered a tranquil, fearless, and benevolent spirit, and restrictedhis diet to water and polenta. Spices, and meats, and liquors, and allcomplexities of cookery, were utterly discarded.
These facts now occurred to Constantia's reflections with new vividness,and led to interesting consequences. Polenta and hasty-pudding, or samp,are preparations of the same substance,--a substance which she needednot the experience of others to convince her was no less grateful thannutritive. Indian meal was procurable at ninety cents per bushel. Byrecollecting former experiments she knew that this quantity, with noaccompaniment but salt, would supply wholesome and plentiful food forfour months to one person[1]. The inference was palpable.
Three persons were now to be supplied with food, and this supply couldbe furnished during four months at the trivial expense of three dollars.This expedient was at once so uncommon and so desirable, as to beregarded with temporary disbelief. She was inclined to suspect somelatent error in her calculation. That a sum thus applied should sufficefor the subsistence of a year, which in ordinary cases is expended in afew days, was scarcely credible. The more closely, however, the subjectwas examined, the more incontestably did this inference flow. The modeof preparation was simple and easy, and productive of the fewest toilsand inconveniences. The attention of her Lucy was sufficient to thisend, and the drudgery of marketing was wholly precluded.
[1] See this useful fact explained and demonstrated in CountRumford's Essays.
She easily obtained the concurrence of her father, and the scheme wasfound as practicable and beneficial as her fondest expectations hadpredicted. Infallible security was thus provided against hunger. Thiswas the only care that was urgent and immediate. While they had food andwere exempt from disease, they could live, and were not without theirportion of comfort. Her hands were unemployed, but her mind was kept incontinual activity. To seclude herself as much as possible from otherswas the best means of avoiding infection. Spectacles of misery which shewas unable to relieve would merely tend to harass her with uselessdisquietudes and make her frame more accessible to disease. Her father'sinstructions were sufficient to give her a competent acquaintance withthe Italian and French languages. His dreary hours were beguiled by thisemployment, and her mind was furnished with a species of knowledge whichshe hoped, in future, to make subservient to a more respectable andplentiful subsistence than she had hitherto enjoyed.
Meanwhile the season advanced, and the havock which this fatal maladyproduced increased with portentous rapidity. In alleys and narrowstreets, in which the houses were smaller, the inhabitants more numerousand indigent, and the air pent up within unwholesome limits, it ragedwith greatest violence. Few of Constantia's neighbours possessed themeans of removing from the danger. The inhabitants of this alleyconsisted of three hundred persons: of these eight or ten experienced nointerruption of their health. Of the rest two hundred were destroyed inthe course of three weeks. Among so many victims it may be supposed thatthis disease assumed every terrific and agonizing shape.
It was impossible for Constantia to shut out every token of a calamitythus enormous and thus near. Night was the season usually selected forthe removal of the dead. The sound of wheels thus employed wasincessant. This, and the images with which it was sure to beaccompanied, bereaved her of repose. The shrieks and lamentations ofsurvivors, who could not be prevented from attending the remains of ahusband or child to the place of interment, frequently struck hersenses. Sometimes urged by a furious delirium, the sick would break fromtheir attendants, rush into the street, and expire on the pavement,amidst frantic outcries and gestures. By these she was often roused fromimperfect sleep, and called to reflect upon the fate which impended overher father and herself.
To preserve health in an atmosphere thus infected, and to ward offterror and dismay in a scene of horrors thus hourly accumulating, wasimpossible. Constantia found it vain to contend against the inroads ofsadness. Amidst so dreadful a mortality it was irrational to cherish thehope that she or her father would escape. Her sensations, in no longtime, seemed to justify her apprehensions. Her appetite forsook her, herstrength failed, the thirst and lassitude of fever invaded her, and thegrave seemed to open for her reception.
Lucy was assailed by the same symptoms at the same time. Householdoffices were unavoidably neglected. Mr. Dudley retained his health, buthe was able only to prepare his scanty food, and supply the cravings ofchild with water from the well. His imagination marked him out for thenext victim. He could not be blind to the consequences of his ownindisposition at a period so critical. Disabled from contributing toeach other's assistance, destitute of medicine and food; and even ofwater to quench their tormenting thirst, unvisited, unknown andperishing in frightful solitude! These images had a tendency toprostrate the mind, and generate or ripen the seeds of this fatalmalady, which, no doubt at this period of its progress every one hadimbibed.
Contrary to all his fears, he awoke each morning free from pain, thoughnot without an increase of debility. Abstinence from food, and theliberal use of cold water, seemed to have a medicinal operation on thesick. Their pulse gradually resumed its healthy tenor, their strengthand their appetite slowly returned, and in ten days they were able tocongratulate each other on their restoration.
I will not recount that series of disastrous thoughts which occupied themind of Constantia during this period. Her lingering and sleepless hourswere regarded by her as preludes to death. Though at so immature an age,she had gained large experience of the evils which are allotted to man.Death, which in her prosperous state was peculiarly abhorr
ent to herfeelings, was now disrobed of terror. As an entrance into scenes oflightsome and imperishable being it was the goal of all her wishes: as apassage to oblivion it was still desirable, since forgetfulness wasbetter than the life which she had hitherto led, and which, should herexistence be prolonged, it was likely that she could continue to lead.
These gloomy meditations were derived from the languors of her frame:when these disappeared, her cheerfulness and fortitude revived. Sheregarded with astonishment and delight the continuance of her father'shealth and her own restoration. That trial seemed to have been safelyundergone, to which the life of every one was subject. The air, whichtill now had been arid and sultry, was changed into cool and moist. Thepestilence had reached its utmost height, and now symptoms of remissionand decline began to appear. Its declension was more rapid than itsprogress and every day added vigour to hope.
When her strength was somewhat retrieved, Constantia called to mind agood woman who lived in her former neighbourhood, and from whom she hadreceived many proofs of artless affection. This woman's name was SarahBaxter. She lived within a small distance of Constantia's formerdwelling. The trade of her husband was that of a porter, and shepursued, in addition to the care of a numerous family, the business of alaundress. The superior knowledge and address of Constantia had enabledher to be serviceable to this woman in certain painful and perplexingcircumstances.
This service was repaid with the utmost gratitude. Sarah regarded herbenefactress with a species of devotion. She could not endure to beholdone, whom every accent and gesture proved to have once enjoyed affluenceand dignity, performing any servile office. In spite of her ownmultiplied engagements, she compelled Constantia to accept herassistance on many occasions, and could scarcely be prevailed upon toreceive any compensation for her labour. Washing clothes was her trade,and from this task she insisted on relieving her lovely patroness.
Constantia's change of dwelling produced much regret in the kind Sarah.She did not allow it to make any change in their previous arrangements,but punctually visited the Dudleys once a week, and carried home withher whatever stood in need of ablution. When the prevalence of diseasedisabled Constantia from paying her the usual wages, she would by nomeans consent to be absolved from this task. Her earnestness on thishead was not to be eluded; and Constantia, in consenting that her workshould, for the present, be performed gratuitously, solaced herself withthe prospect of being able, by some future change of fortune, amply toreward her.
Sarah's abode was distant from danger, and her fears were turbulent. Shewas nevertheless punctual in her visits to the Dudleys, and anxious fortheir safety. In case of their sickness, she had declared herresolution to be their attendant and nurse. Suddenly, however, hervisits ceased. The day on which her usual visit was paid was the samewith that on which Constantia sickened, but her coming was expected invain. Her absence was, on some accounts, regarded with pleasure, as itprobably secured her from the danger connected with the office of anurse; but it added to Constantia's cares, inasmuch as her own sickness,or that of some of her family, was the only cause of her detention.
To remove her doubts, the first use which Constantia made of herrecovered strength was to visit her laundress. Sarah's house was atheatre of suffering. Her husband was the first of his family assailedby the reigning disease. Two daughters, nearly grown to womanhood,well-disposed and modest girls, the pride and support of their mother,and who lived at service, returned home, sick, at the same time, anddied in a few days. Her husband had struggled for eleven days with hisdisease, and was seized, just before Constantia's arrival, with thepangs of death.
Baxter was endowed with great robustness and activity. This disease didnot vanquish him but with tedious and painful struggles. His muscularforce now exhausted itself in ghastly contortions, and the houseresounded with his ravings. Sarah's courage had yielded to so rapid asuccession of evils. Constantia found her shut up in a chamber, distantfrom that of her dying husband, in a paroxysm of grief, and surroundedby her younger children.
Constantia's entrance was like that of an angelic comforter. Sarah wasunqualified for any office but that of complaint. With great difficultyshe was made to communicate the knowledge of her situation. Her visitantthen passed into Baxter's apartment. She forced herself to endure thistremendous scene long enough to discover that it was hastening to aclose. She left the house, and hastening to the proper office, engagedthe immediate attendance of a hearse. Before the lapse of an hour,Baxter's lifeless remains were placed in a coffin, and conveyed away.
Constantia now exerted herself to comfort and encourage the survivors.Her remonstrances incited Sarah to perform with alacrity the measureswhich prudence dictates on these occasions. The house was purified bythe admission of air and the sprinkling of vinegar. Constantia appliedher own hand to these tasks, and set her humble friend an example offorethought and activity. Sarah would not consent to part with her tilla late hour in the evening.
These exertions had like to have been fatally injurious to Constantia.Her health was not sufficiently confirmed to sustain offices so arduous.In the course of the night her fatigue terminated in fever. In thepresent more salubrious state of the atmosphere, it assumed no malignantsymptoms, and shortly disappeared. During her indisposition she wasattended by Sarah, in whose honest bosom no sentiment was more livelythan gratitude. Constantia having promised to renew her visit the nextday, had been impatiently expected, and Sarah had come to her dwellingin the evening, full of foreboding and anxiety, to ascertain the causeof her delay. Having gained the bedside of her patroness, noconsideration could induce her to retire from it.
Constantia's curiosity was naturally excited as to the causes ofBaxter's disease. The simple-hearted Sarah was prolix and minute in thehistory of her own affairs. No theme was more congenial to her temperthan that which was now proposed. In spite of redundance and obscurityin the style of the narrative, Constantia found in it powerfulexcitements of her sympathy. The tale, on its own account, as well asfrom the connection of some of its incidents with a subsequent part ofthese memoirs, is worthy to be here inserted. However foreign thedestiny of Monrose may at present appear to the story of the Dudleys,there will hereafter be discovered an intimate connection between them.