THE WORKHOUSE DOCTOR.
Of all scoundrels in society, there are none so bad as disreputable ordishonest lawyers--unless it be unprincipled doctors. And I think thatthe palm of villany, if there be such a thing, might be claimed by a fewof the latter class in any competition with the former. There is nolimit to the mischief, and no fathoming the depths of crime which asurgeon may commit. Few men, perhaps, have also such ample opportunitiesfor eluding detection. It is fair to say that I believe the crime ofdishonesty, or malfeasance, is rare among that most honourableprofession of medicine and surgery; but the exceptions, although few,are terrible.
"Doctor, you have been very good to me," said an old woman, "and I havedone wrong to you, and hope you will forgive me, and be kind to me; forI am a poor lone old woman, with no friend in the world but you,doctor."
The doctor smiled blandly at the compliment here paid him.
This old woman was a pauper patient. The doctor attended her by order ofthe relieving-officer of the ---- Union; the locality of which, it isenough for the reader to know, was on the south side of the metropolis.
The doctor had been many years a parish surgeon; and at this time hewas also the medical attendant at the workhouse of the union. He wasaccounted a successful man. He was in large practice, but his gains werenot commensurate with the extent of his business; and owing to asomewhat large family, with expensive habits of his own and his wife's,he had not made, after all, very much way in the world. I think I maydescribe him as a poor doctor, although he lived in a big house and keptup a liberal establishment. Yes; I may call him poor. There wereunmistakable, although negative, signs of comparative poverty. He keptno carriage, and had to trudge on foot from the beginning to the end ofhis daily rounds. He rarely indulged in the luxury of a cab, which, Itake it, showed either an extreme prudence, not consistent with someother habits I have mentioned, or very straitened circumstances.
"Yes, Goody, I hope I have been kind to you, and I will be kind, as Iknow a doctor ought to be to all his patients, but especially to all thepoor and old ones."
I ought to have mentioned, incidentally, that the doctor had obtained areputation for his urbanity to all people, and his especial affection tothe poor.
"Doctor," she exclaimed; "ah, I have something on my mind. I don't thinkI have acted properly by you. Will you forgive me?"
As she spoke these latter words her wretched crone-like featuresbetrayed a ghastliness which appalled the surgeon, and he couldscarcely, for several moments, answer her.
"You will forgive me, doctor, won't you?"
"Forgive you, Goody! What have I to forgive you?"
"Oh, it was very wrong to deceive you."
"But how have you deceived me?"
"Oh, it was very wicked."
"Why, what's the matter? What do you mean?"
As the doctor uttered this last interrogation, in soothing accents, hedrew a chair near to the old woman, and, in the extremeness of hisurbanity, or with the desire of a confessor to lighten the load thatweighed upon her conscience, as he so drew his chair by her side, heactually took her lean and withered hand in his.
"Come, tell me all about it, Goody. In what way have you wronged me? Inwhat deceived me? In what respect acted as a poor woman should not?"
"Well, doctor," she stammered, in reply to this kind and confidentialinquiry, "indeed I have a fortune."
The doctor started.
"Pray don't expose me. I shall die if I am found out. Kill me, doctor,if you won't forgive me."
"A fortune! and you for so long have been living on charity; obtainingrelief and medical attendance from the union! Oh, that is wickedindeed!"
At this moment there passed through the doctor's mind a thought morewicked than any of the thoughts or acts of the pauper patient. He wasthen walking the streets of London, attending his patients, earning hisown bread and his family's bread by the sufferance of a Christianusurer, who had obtained judgments against him on bills of exchange, andwho extracted, as the price of what he called forbearance, enormousinterest and costs for a disreputable attorney, who (let me say inconfidence) I have reason to know divided them with his client. Thebitter poverty of the man was his strong temptation.
"Could I manage to get this woman's property into my hands?" he askedhimself.
"No!" was the answer of his conscience.
"It would be an enormous blessing to me if I could get a little moneyjust now, and pay off that infernal Tompkins, who threatens and harassesmy life during the twenty-four hours in every day; whose sheriff'sofficer ghost haunts my steps from the moment I leave my door in themorning till the moment I return at night; who disturbs my repose athome, and the fear of whom disturbs my sleep. If I could get the use ofthe money, I would repay it. To wrong this wretched pauper would be acrime I am incapable of; but to use the money of the old sinner for awhile, and make it up again, would do nobody any harm. I will try if Ican get it."
Such was the train of thought, interrogation, and reply, and ofresolution, which passed through the mind of the doctor, with morerapidity than it has passed under the eye of the reader.
"My good woman, as you say, you have acted very wrongfully, not alonetowards me; but you have, in that respect, done a great injusticetowards me. By what means can I live and maintain my family than by theexercise of my profession? If you could have paid my fees, you shouldhave done so. I would willingly have attended upon you as long as youlived, without charge, if your necessities had required it; but as youcould pay, I think you ought to have paid."
"Doctor, it is but little I possess, and I have always been afraid ofspending it or reducing it. It is only 500_l._ that I have; and if Ilost it I should lose my all. How do I know that I shall not want it,every farthing? And I have a son, for whom I have kept it these tenyears. Where he is now I don't know. He left England in a ship for theIndies. He ran away from his home during his father's lifetime, and Ibelieve he helped to break my husband's heart. But he used to write melong, long, and such nice letters; and used to tell me that he wouldcome home some day. It is a very long while since I heard from him, andmaybe he is drowned. But I don't think he is. Sometimes I dream of him,and in my sleep I think I hear a voice telling me that I shall see himagain. When he comes home I will give him all I have, and I am sure hewill be kind to his old mother, and keep me happy and comfortable aslong as I live."
While the old crone thus garrulously related the secret of her miserlythrift, the doctor was pondering over a scheme which he had alreadymatured.
"Well, my good woman," he said, "it is not my business to tell upon you.I will not bring you into disgrace. I will not reproach you. From me, atleast, you shall suffer nothing."
"Thank you, dear, kind, good doctor!"
"Will you not pay me something on my account?" he inquired.
"Oh, yes, doctor."
As she spoke she rose from her seat and went to a cupboard, from whichshe took a little box and unlocked it. In this box were contained twosavings-bank books. How extremely cunning this old lady had been! Howwell, for one in her position, and at her age, did she understand thatdifficult rule of prudently investing money! She laid these books beforethe doctor, again imploring him not to let any body know of her hoard.
"I will give you 10_l._, doctor," she said, "as soon as I can draw itout from the savings-bank."
"I am much obliged to you," observed the surgeon meekly.
The old woman was struck, perhaps flattered, by the comparativehumbleness with which the doctor acknowledged the proffered money. Thatacknowledgment reduced him to something like the level of his patient.The confidence at this moment became that of friends; and, when the seaof conventionality had been bridge over, the two talked _tete-a-tete_.
The doctor pointed out to the old woman the perils she ran, by fire,robbery, or other accident, of having her books destroyed, and theevidence of her investment, or that investment itself, obliterated. Shelistened to this demonstration with greediness and anxiety. She saw theforce, not
to say truthfulness or disinterestedness, of the suggestion.He pointed out to her the comparative profitlessness of the mode ofinvestment she had selected. He told her that money was worth twice,thrice, fourfold, or even tenfold, under careful, judicious management,the amount she was receiving for it.
The greediness of the old woman was aroused. There is nothing sotempting to the over-thrifty and penurious or miserly person as theoffer of large interest. This is a weakness they share with the commonusurer, who is met with in the ordinary walks of society. I believe itwould be possible to cheat an ordinary Jew bill-discounter, or the mostsubtle and acute of Christian usurers, by the temptation of largeinterest, and a little manipulation of their great ruling instinct ofgreediness.
The pauper patient, before this interview had been concluded, entreatedher good kind doctor to lend her the benefit of his extreme practicalsagacity, great worldly experience, and unmistakable judgment, in theinvestment of the moneys which had been saved up by her. After a littlehesitation, he agreed to comply with her request.
Within a fortnight the money was withdrawn from the savings-banks inwhich it had been distributed, in order to evade those regulations whichprevent more than a certain sum being at any one time invested in anyone bank. And after being withdrawn from this channel, it was placed inthe hands of the surgeon, for him to lend or employ as he might deemexpedient, and upon those securities that would yield a larger return.
The doctor used the money thus intrusted to him in payment of claimswhich pressed upon himself, and in reduction of his own embarrassments.He paid the old woman, or rather carried to her account, an interest oftwenty per cent. per annum with the greatest regularity; and hisconscience was satisfied by a belief that he was conferring upon her anessential benefit, by enabling her to obtain this liberal usufruct inpreference to the scanty dole of interest she had been receiving. Hesatisfied scruples, or rather prevented her distrusting him, by fromtime to time showing her bills of exchange, documents, or papers, whichhe called bills of sale, and slips of paper which he denominated scrip,railway shares, &c. &c., all of which, he explained to her, werebringing interest at a rate more than four times that she had beenpreviously obtaining.
Goody thus learned to regard the doctor, who alone possessed her secretand stood in the relation of her confessor, as her best and sincerestfriend. She occasionally rewarded him, as she thought, by purchasinglittle presents for his children, and by an occasional visit to thehosier's or glover's to make some slight purchase for his own benefit orcomfort.
After two years or thereabouts had rolled away, Goody, whose physicalinfirmities increased, whose mental knowledge became more and morewarped, whose miserly vices had become more intense, also becamedissatisfied with the irregular mode in which she obtained the charityupon which she continued to live, while in her imagination she saw herinvestment increase.
One day the doctor called upon her, to explain that the interest upon arailway debenture fell due to-morrow, and 4_l._ 15_s._ had been thusobtained, which he was prepared to either hand over to her or hold forher investment. She told him she would much rather that he kept all ofit except a shilling, which she needed for some purpose, and which sumhe gave her. He promised to lay out this further amount, as he had laidout all the rest, in a way to increase its store.
"There," she then continued to say, "I have been thinking that I feelvery lonesome and very uncomfortable here by myself, and I should liketo get into the house."
"What! the union workhouse?"
"Yes, doctor."
"I am afraid it cannot be done."
"Oh, I am so sorry. I wish it could. Can't you manage that for me,doctor?"
"Well, you see, Goody, somebody might find out that you have money, andI might be ruined if it were to transpire that I had assisted you, oreven suffered you to become an inmate of the workhouse, and to live outof the ratepayers' money."
The old woman was crest-fallen. The idea which she had nursed for manymonths seemed dashed to pieces. Her hopes were destroyed.
The doctor continued: "I am afraid it would be hardly right, Goody."
"Nobody could know that I had money, doctor, unless you told them."
"I should not, of course, think of disclosing it, and perhaps, afterall, it might not be so very great a crime for me to let you take yourown course. Only, mind, I won't help you. My conscience will not let medo that. It would ruin me, if found out. No, Goody; if you can get intothe house, I will not be the man to tell upon you; but you must get inby yourself."
The doctor by this time had begun to tremble, lest every moment the oldwoman should demand the delivery up of her securities, and shoulddiscover that he had used the greater portion of her money. He knew thathe could not recover or replace it. He was at his wits' end oftentimesto determine what he should do in such an emergency. He therefore likedthe idea of this old woman's going into the house, where he knew shecould get, because the additional falsehood and imposture of herposition would be an added security for her silence. While there, shewould hardly dare to claim from him the money or the documents. He wouldhave far less difficulty in maintaining the secret of his fraud upon herthan he had hitherto done.
It will be enough to further state that the old creature madeapplication for admission into the union workhouse, and that therelieving-officer investigated her case; that a report was laid beforethe board of guardians; and that, without much difficulty, she obtainedan order of admission. So the fraud upon the ratepayers was effected andprolonged; so the doctor's crime was further concealed.
The old pauper was accustomed in the house, and out of the house whenpermitted to go beyond its walls, to laud the praises of her kinddoctor, who, on his visits to the place, would inquire after her, whowould find her very often ailing, and who very frequently ordered herluxuries that did not fall to the lot of other paupers not so cared for.
Three years rolled away, and during this time the pauper grew richer andricher (as she thought) out of the usufruct of her savings. The doctorall the while continued with growing certainty to look upon the fund hehad employed for his own advantage as money he would never be calledupon to replace. He had only to keep up the deception a little longer,and the real owner of that fund would pass into her grave unnoticed andunknown.
One day the old woman obtained her customary leave of absence, andwandered beyond the usual track of her accustomed visitations when soliberated. She called first upon the doctor, and obtained from him asmall sum of money--a few shillings--and afterwards among the places shevisited was the miserable home of an old acquaintance. Here she tookdinner and tea, and after tea drew out the money, which she said hadbeen given her by her dear kind friend the parish doctor, and insistedupon standing treat for her companion.
About nine in the evening a conversation took place between the twowomen.
"Goody," said her friend, "you know I don't want to hurry you. You knowI am very glad to have you here. I am very fond of you; but it isgetting late; and if you don't make haste, you will get shut out,"
The speaker was what is called a little the worse for liquor, and Goodywas more than a little intoxicated.
She spluttered out in reply something about not caring for the porter,or the relieving-officer, or the board of guardians, or the overseers,or the church-wardens, or any body. That if she was late, it did notmatter, and that she would not stand any of their nonsense. That if shewas late, why--she was late. If she could not get in the house, she muststay out; and if they did not care to keep her, why, she could keepherself.
"What nonsense you talk! What would you do, at your time of life, tokeep yourself? Why, if they were to turn you out, you must starve. Youcould not work, and you have not got any thing to live upon."
"Oh, haven't I, though!" the old woman incoherently exclaimed. "That isall you know about it. I don't care for them all. Dr. Jalaype has got mymoney. He takes care of it for me. Why, I tell you, I have got afortune; that is, I mean he has got it keeping for me. I have got morethan a thousand p
ounds. Is not that a fortune? Would not you like tohave it, old girl? I dare say the chairman of the board would like tohave it, but he won't. No, that he sha'n't. I won't go back to thehouse. I will stop here. There, go and get a quartern more gin."
With the shilling now produced another quartern of gin was fetched, andthe old lady imbibed a further quantity, and got considerably worse, andwas soon reduced to a state of beastly, hopeless, and helplessintoxication.
After having drunk themselves into this condition, the two wretchedcreatures left the scene of their dissipation and endeavoured to toddlein the direction of the workhouse. They had not gone far, when tworiotous boys, returning from their work to their homes, saw themreeling, and began to poke fun at them. The female pauper, smartingunder a rude juvenile insult, endeavoured to rush forward and seize oneof the delinquents, but instead of effecting the capture of theoffender, fell flat on her face. Her companion endeavoured to pick herup, but rolled over; and while the sympathetic woman maundered, in herintoxication, words of consolation to the disfigured pauper, a policemancame up, and, observing their condition, took them both to thestation-house.
Next morning, on being brought before the magistrate, they told anartful tale, which that worthy functionary accepted as true, abouthaving met an old friend, who treated them to a half-quartern of gin(they were sure it was no more), and it overcame them. They weredischarged with an admonition, and toddled off to the house, at the gateof which they parted,--the one to find her home, like an independentwoman; the other to sneak into her ward, and bear the gibes of herassociates as best she might.
It was some time before these women could meet again. When they did so,among other things, they talked about the fortune. Goody the pauperwould have liked to have said nothing about the matter, but hercompanion was not to be put off in that way. She had a principle whichled her to argue that what people said in their cups might be regardedas their most sincere belief, and that the words uttered in drunkennesshad a truth not always attaching to the words of soberness. Shepersisted in her inquiries, and the result was that the pauper Goodytook her friend into confidence.
"Why, you see here," she said, "nobody knows what may turn up. I havebeen a lone woman these many years. I have got a son, leastways Ibelieve I have, and some day _he_ may turn up, you see. I love that boy,and I have screwed and contrived for him; and in case any thing shouldhappen to me, why I should like to have a little money by me; so I savedand put my money in a savings-bank. But, then, one day I told the doctorabout my money, and he told me not to let it be there. I asked if so behe would be so kind as to look after it for me, which he said yes, hewould do so. So I gave the money to him, and he lays it out, and gets methe best interest for my money, and I place that interest along with themoney, which makes the money bigger, do you see, every year. I have donethis for many years, and now I have no doubt I have got hard upon athousand pounds."
"Lor! You don't say so?"
"Yes, 'pon my honour, I have."
"Well, I wish I had got a hundred pounds, that's all I know."
"A hundred is not much," said Goody, whose ideas were prone to expand onfinancial theories.
In this way the couple chatted, until Goody's friend became almost aswise as Goody herself upon the matter of the investment, and thedoctor's fiduciary relationship became equally well known to two femalesas it had previously been known to one.
Now, it is said that women cannot keep a secret. I believe this doctrineis not to be accepted or taken as a rule without exceptions. But it iscertain that Goody's friend prattled and tattled long andpertinaciously, although in solemn confidence, to a variety of people.At last the fact or fiction of the pauper's fortune became known to Mr.Doe, a popular baker, and chairman of the board of guardians of theunion which had the honour of maintaining out of its public funds thewealthy pauper.
Mr. Doe was a man of independent mind. How he won his way, as hefrequently had occasion to say, to the distinction of a member of thevestry and chairman of the board of guardians, was by his own talents(sometimes he said genius), and his untiring energy, and hisuncompromising honesty. He was not the man to overlook any abuse; he wasthe last man in the world to permit a fraud to go unnoticed orunpunished. When he heard of the case of this female pauper with afortune, he determined to sift it to the last. He told the story as hereceived it to his colleagues or subordinate members of the board ofguardians; and a sub-committee was appointed to investigate the matter.The clerk to the board was directed to write to the doctor demandingfrom him an explanation. Upon that the board dropped the subject for afortnight, in order that, as Mr. Doe said, every body might have ampleopportunity for their proper defence against the grave charges he hadto make against them.
The doctor still held his situation of medical adviser and attendant tothe workhouse.
The female pauper was unfortunately ill, and at the time when thisoutcry arose she was an inmate of the infirmary or sick-ward. The doctorwas then in attendance upon her.
When the surgeon received the letter, he was of course naturally amazed.Long-continued success and concealment had led him to confidentlybelieve it was unknown to any body but himself that he held the money.How the secret had leaked out he could not tell or guess. Aconversation, which he found no difficulty in obtaining, with thepatient did not help the solution of the mystery; for she, like an oldsinner that she was, denied having mentioned the thing to a living soul.She affected to be as much in the dark as he was as to the mode in whichthe intelligence had reached the board. She did not affect to be, butreally was, terribly alarmed by the discovery. The doctor heightenedthat alarm by telling her she would be prosecuted and punished; no doubtsent to the treadmill; or, it might be, transported for fraud upon theboard of guardians. He told her that the only course for her to adoptwas one of entire secrecy. She must deny every thing; she must declareshe had never said that she had money; utterly deny that he had receivedany from her for any purpose; and if she did so, he would back herstatement up by declaring that he had none of her money in his control.The poor deluded wretch saw that she was placing herself entirely inthe hands of her doctor, and that he might turn round upon her; or atleast she thought so. But still, as between the treadmill andtransportation, she hesitated to run the risk of the doctor's possiblefraud upon her.
The meeting of the board took place. The doctor, in reply to the lettersent him, wrote a short pithy answer, declaring the statement touchinghim and the female pauper and patient to be a flimsy fabrication, whichhe thought it beneath him to answer in detail. He gave his unqualifieddenial, and should do no more. As for entering on a defence against suchaccusations, why, his character was before the world, and he left theguardians to judge the mere probability of such a statement as thatwhich had been made by somebody to his discredit. If the guardians feltinclined for any further information, perhaps he might be disposed togive it; but his present opinion was, that he should not.
The female pauper on being brought up before the guardians forexamination,--or, to speak more correctly, a deputation of the board, orits committee, waited at her bedside,--she stoutly denied every thing.She declared most solemnly that she had no money, and asked theinquirer, if she had such money, would she be there, in that wretchedinfirmary, on their bed, in unsavoury pauperism, and taking the noxiousworkhouse physic? One member of the deputation was convinced that thechairman had led them on a wild-goose chase: that the woman had no suchfortune as had been represented; that the whole affair was a bag ofmoonshine. Another had no opinion at all; he said, in frankness, that hedid not know what to make of the matter; and a third had a notiondirectly contrary to the first, and thought the ratepayers had beenswindled for a long while; that the chairman of the board was quiteright, and that the matter ought to be further looked into.
It unfortunately happened between the date of this inquiry of the bakerand the deputation that the pauper died. Poor creature! she expiredunder the treatment of her friend and conspirator against theratepayers,--the Workhouse Doct
or. That death was a godsend to him, forit practically stopped all further investigation.
The chairman of the board of guardians, Mr. Doe, at the meeting when thereport of the committee was brought up, expressed himself dissatisfied;he said he thought he smelt a rat; he had his suspicions that the doctorhad got the woman's money; he was sure, almost certain, that theratepayers had been robbed. He would like to have the whole thing out,and at once. He did not like that evasive letter of their surgeon's; heshould like that gentleman brought before them at once, and be asked toexplain. If he came, and did explain, well and good; Mr. Doe would notobject to apologise when he had been convinced that he had been in thewrong. Until he was so convinced, he should hold his own opinion, andvindicate it. The upshot of the whole investigation of this worthy, andenergetic, and prosperous, and dignified tradesman was, that thesurgeon was sent for by a special messenger, and that he attended theirdeliberations at the board meeting I have last referred to. Hemanifested a lofty spirit of mock dignity. He protested against theoutrage to which he had been subjected by their suspicions and by theirdemand, and by having him arraigned before them like a criminal at apublic tribunal. He did not know that he was doing at all right innoticing these charges; but concluded by laying his handmelodramatically upon his heart, offering many objurgations, andultimately, in the most familiar way, offering to prove--as he didprove, to the satisfaction of the majority, and the dissatisfaction ofthe minority, of the board--that the tattle of the chairman's informantwas a tissue of falsehood, or the wild imaginings of a lunatic.
The sequel to the whole of these incidents and this investigation was aresolution, passed by a majority of the board, expressing confidence intheir medical officer, embodying an opinion that he had been unjustlyaspersed, and requesting him to continue to bestow upon the paupers ofthe union under the control of that board of guardians his eminentservices and truly Christian-like mercies.