Fenn George Manville
Friends I Have Made

“He never give more than a sigh, mum, or I must have heerd him; for my eyes never closed that night, and though p’raps last time I looked I ought to have seen it, yet, not thinking of anything, my sight being not so keen as that of his own wife, who, poor woman! I lifted into a chair, and called for help.

“That’s what the bits of crape are for, mum, it’s a way we have with us. What complaint? Well, I only have my ideas, and thinks that if you run a hoss too hard he’s soon wore out, and I fancy as men can be run too hard as well. It seems to me as Natur’ never meant men to keep on day after day all them hours at a stretch; and though it ain’t like hard labour, yet you’re at it all the time; and, besides, what were Sundays made for if not for a rest? Seems to me, mum, that if a day of rest hadn’t been wanted, Sunday would have been left out altogether, and we should have gone right on from Saturday to Monday at once.

“P’raps ’tain’t for me to complain; but I have my own ideas about poor Sam.”

Chapter Thirteen.
Having Patience

Much living in London and the constant unvarying round of life does tell upon the constitution as in the case of the poor driver, and I was feeling heavy and sad beyond my wont in a way that excited the notice of my friends. The Hendricks were the first to speak about it, and with affectionate solicitude Mr Hendrick begged that I would listen to his advice.

“You know how bad I was,” he said, “and what the country did for me. Go and spend a month or two by the seaside.”

“And what is to become of my London friends and my poor?” I said.

“What is to become of your London friends and your poor,” he said quickly, “if you droop from over work, take to your bed, and die. Come, take my advice. Why, Hetty,” he said, “how would it be if she went and stayed with the Ross’s in Cornwall?”

“Cornwall?” I exclaimed, “so far away?”

“So far away,” he said laughing, “why no part of England’s far away now. You can start from Paddington at mid-day and be there the same night. Besides, John Ross is a medical man and a sensible fellow. He is a dear friend of mine, and I’ll be bound to say he and his wife and the Cornish air will send you back better than ever.”

“Are – are they very grand people,” I faltered.

“Grand? no. They’ve a nice place and garden and are doing well, but they’ve known what it was to struggle, and are simplicity itself. I know them as well almost as I know myself. We went down and stayed with them when we were married and very welcome the sum we paid for board and lodging was to them then. They kept nothing from us and I remember well the poor fellow’s struggles and despair.

“‘Don’t take on about it darling don’t, pray,’ little Mrs Ross would whisper. ‘Have patience and all will be well,’ and she’d leave her untouched breakfast and kneel at her husband’s feet so that she could lay her hands upon his breast and let her blue eyes look up appealingly in his.

“‘How can I be patient?’ he exclaimed angrily, and frowning as he spoke. But his anger was not such but that he could caressingly rest one hand upon the soft wavy hair, and draw the loving head closer to his bosom. ‘But there; go and sit down: it’s eleven now, and we shall never have done breakfast. Give me another cup of tea.’

“‘But you have not drunk that, dear,’ said Mrs Ross gently, as she returned to her seat at the breakfast-table.

“‘Haven’t I?’ said her husband absently. ‘Oh! no, of course not. But, there; I don’t want any breakfast, this constant anxiety frets away appetite.’

“‘But you will have something for that case last night, love? You were there from twelve till five.’

“Mr Ross smiled, as he replied, ‘Yes, I shall have something – thanks, and blessings, and that sort of payment. The people were too poor to go to old Tomkins – too proud to go to the union – so they came to me, and of course I went. That was right, was it not?’

“‘Of course, love,’ replied Mrs Ross. ‘How could you stay away, when you had it in your power to do good to a fellow-creature? But will the man live, do you think?’

“Mr Ross shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. He may linger on for months; but the foundation has been sapped by excess.’

“‘God help his poor family,’ murmured Mrs Ross, and then she rose and crossed the room to where her husband was irritably walking up and down before the window. The breakfast, with its thin tea and rank butter, lay untasted still, and a child-like little servant-girl appearing at the door, Mrs Ross gave her a nod, and the untouched meal was removed.

“Once more alone, that anxious wife softly stole one little hand beneath her husband’s arm, and creeping closer and closer, walked with him up and down the worn drugget, till he stopped short as if gazing from the window, but really looking inward at his own position, his wife refraining from speaking a word, as she anxiously watched the working of his countenance.

“For the Ross folks, as people in Elmouth called them were in sad straits. Some two years before, with a little money in hand, John Ross had come to settle with his young wife in the pleasant seaside town, having made his calculations that he would get no practice as the new doctor for the first year – at least none to signify – but that he could furnish his house quietly, and live decently for that first year; while what little he did earn would go to his remaining stock of cash, and add to what he gained during the second year, which he hoped would be something, if not considerable, at least enough to enable them to what he called ‘rub along.’

“But John Ross did not know the ignorance and prejudices of small country towns, and he soon found that he was looked down upon with contempt by the old practitioner; not known by those who considered themselves the gentry of the place; and viewed generally with suspicion by the poorer and middle classes. He might have possessed the skill of the Royal College of Surgeons condensed into one man, but the people of Elmouth would still have shaken their heads at him. And knowing all this, Tomkins, the old surgeon, used to chuckle and rub his hands, killing some, curing others, and year by year growing richer, telling himself that the new man would soon grow tired and go, for after all said and done, it was a great piece of impudence to come and set up in Elmouth without his leave. Why, did not Cheeseman, his assistant, set up in opposition after a quarrel, and go to the dogs in three months? At least that was what old Tomkins said, for Cheeseman’s going to the dogs was really going back to London to his friends, till he could obtain another situation as assistant.

“But things had gone very crookedly with the Ross people, and in spite of every exertion, John Ross found himself at the end of two years and some months penniless, and without a chance of bettering his position. It seemed as if the people would have none of him, and again and again he was for trying some other place. But after a long discussion his wife and he always bore in mind the old proverb of a rolling stone gathering no moss, and knowing that it would be like going through their troubles again, without money, they concluded that it would be better to fight on hopefully, keeping their poverty hidden as much as possible, and waiting patiently for better days.

“But though it was easy enough to talk of keeping their poverty hidden, that is no slight matter in a country town; and if John Ross and his wife could have known all, they would have found that the Elmouth people generally knew the extent of their wardrobes; how much to a shilling they owed baker and butcher; how that their landlord fully expected they would give him notice from quarter to quarter, and had promised the first offer of the house to some one else. In short, their affairs were made out to be so bad, that people used to shake their heads, and wonder how folks could be so proud, and keep up appearances as them Ross’s did, when they were almost starving, Lord bless you!

“John Ross would never take any notice of the small tattling of the people, or he might have resented the fact that Tomkins had spoken very disparagingly of his ability. But he was too wise a man. He hoped that times would mend, and gave every spare minute to the study of his profession, working late into every night, and merely taking such exercise as was absolutely necessary for his health.

“But it must not be imagined that no practice fell to his share, for the poor flocked to him in spite of the ill success that attended his efforts in the first year of his coming. In fact, Tomkins made great capital out of the death of a fever patient whom Mr Ross was called in to attend, when the young surgeon had told his wife that he was convinced that no human power could have saved the stricken one. However, people would talk and shake their heads, and say what a pity it was such an inexperienced person had been called in, et cetera; and it was not until the young surgeon had performed several clever cures in advice gratis cases that the poorer people favoured him with their patronage, giving him much trouble, few thanks, and seldom any pay.

“‘Look at that,’ said John Ross one day, as two nurses passed the window in charge of a perambulator fitted with an awning, and containing a fine-looking boy of some twelve months old – ‘look at that,’ he said bitterly. ‘Why, I should think what is spent upon that child in nurses and dress would be a comfortable income for us. It is enough to make any man envious to see how unequally money is distributed. There are those people, the Westerns, rolling in wealth, and without labour to gain it, while the more I fight and struggle, the worse off I am. What do they know of trouble? Hetty, my girl,’ he cried passionately, ‘I wish I had never married you, to drag you down to this poverty!’

“‘Hush! oh, hush, darling!’ sobbed Mrs Ross, the tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘Have we not been happy through it all, and have I ever seemed to mind? Be patient, and times will brighten; but please – please – don’t – speak – ’

Mrs Ross could say no more, for her sobs choked her utterance. Her husband’s words had seemed to cut her to the heart, for of late he had grown more bitter and less hopeful. Instead of flying to his books for comfort, and studying hard, he had grown moody and peevish in spite of her loving attentions; and many a night while he slept had her pillow been wet with tears as she vainly tried to pierce the cloud of gloom that seemed to close them in on every side.

“His wife’s tears were not without effect, and the next moment John Ross was kissing them away, vowing that he would be hopeful and contented, fighting out the battle till the very last; for, as he said, the tide must turn some time.

“‘What a bear I am, darling,’ he cried, ‘to mope and growl as I do, envying, hating, and maliciously regarding my neighbours because they make money and I don’t. There, never mind! I’ll make old Tomkins want me for partner yet, and – there! if you haven’t sent out the breakfast things again, and I’m as hungry as a hunter.’

“It was of no use, John Ross would not own to its being pretence. He insisted upon the breakfast things being brought back, and ate bread-and-butter, and drank weak tea, insisting at the same time upon his wife partaking of the piece of toast he made for her himself.

“An hour after he was making notes, and eagerly studying up a case reported in the medical journals, now shaking his head and calling his wife’s attention to what he considered fallacies, or great blunders, and pointing out what would have been his course under the circumstances – not dwelling upon it with any show of assumption, but proving all he said step by step from the experience of those learned in the great science of medicine.

“And in spite of her aching heart, and their poverty, Mrs Ross’s eye lighted up, and her nostrils dilated with pride as, letting her needlework fall in her lap, she gazed upon the high, slightly bald forehead, and deep thoughtful eye of her husband, as wrapped in the case before him, his whole being seemed to dilate, and he in fancy performed some great cure.

“‘If he had had opportunity,’ she thought to herself, and then sighing resumed her task, one that betokened a change at hand in their little household, with helplessness and expense attendant, and she sighed again, but only to check herself, and look anxiously to see whether her husband had noticed her despondency.

“But John Ross was too busily intent upon his studies, toiling on eagerly till called to visit some unremunerative patient, from whom he returned weary and worn to renew his work.

“Work was his only resource; and but for his constant application, life would have been almost a burden, from the hope deferred that maketh the heart sick.

“Two months had glided by, and their affairs were at such a low ebb that John Ross would have given way utterly to despair, had he been alone. But he dared not, for now it was his turn to solace and comfort. Complaining for so long of his poverty, he had been unaware that it had pleased heaven to make him rich – a wealth that in his blindness he could not see, until he had thrown himself sobbing upon his knees by his wife’s bedside to pray forgiveness for his murmurings, and that heaven would be merciful and not take away the spirit then flickering, hovering, as it were, between this world and that which is to come.

“For there had been a bitter struggle in that little poorly-furnished chamber, and more than once John Ross had felt that he would be left to fight the battle alone. But the change that came had been for the better, and now, pale and tottering when she tried to cross the room, Hetty Ross was once more down, able no longer to give consolation, but glad to take it herself.

“Her face was very, very pale, but at times it would light up with such a smile of ineffable joy, that her husband would forget his studies, and sit breathlessly watching the young mother’s countenance, as in the pride of first maternity, her gaze lingered where, in its cradle, there was something whose breathing gently raised and let fall the warm coverlid. Then the parents’ eyes would meet, and with the husband at the wife’s feet, all worldly trouble would be forgotten in that happiness given to all that are true of heart.

“Another month glided by, and by some means or other John Ross still struggled on, even hopefully, for his wife had grown almost strong again, and her strength gave energy to him in his efforts.

“They were seated at breakfast once more, when Mrs Ross spoke.

“‘Such sad news, dear.’

“‘What is it?’ said her husband, not raising his eyes from the paper.

“‘You remember saying that the Westerns, with their wealth, did not know care?’

“‘Ah – yes! one says plenty of stupid and bitter things when in trouble,’ said John Ross. ‘But what is it?’

“‘Jane tells me their little boy is dying.’

“‘Never!’ exclaimed Mr Ross, starting. ‘What, that fine little fellow that looked heartiest of the hearty?’

“‘I fear so. Jane heard it from one of the nurses, who says the Westerns are almost heart-broken, and the poor woman sobbed herself as she spoke of it. It seems that they wanted to have more advice, but Mr Tomkins said it was not necessary, and now it seems it is too late.’

“‘Poor little chap!’ exclaimed Mr Ross, dropping his paper, and gazing towards the cradle where his own child lay, by whose side Mrs Ross was now kneeling, to assure herself of its safety. ‘Poor little chap!’ he muttered again, and then aloud, ‘God forgive me, Hetty! What blind fools we are! and I was envious of those people.’

“Father and mother were bending over the cradle, when there came the rattle of wheels, a horse was dragged upon his haunches at the gate, the bell rang furiously, and as Mr Ross hurriedly opened the door, the rich Mr Western seized him by both hands.

“‘For mercy’s sake, Mr Ross, pray come! My poor boy’s dying – half murdered by that man,’ and before he could recover from his surprise the surgeon was hurried hatless into a brougham, thrust in almost by the excited father, the horse was flogged, and John Ross just had time to wave an adieu to his wife at the window before the carriage was turned, and they were going at full gallop through the town towards the Hall.

“On their way Mr Ross learned all the particulars he could respecting the child’s illness; how the family attendant had treated it as of little moment, and the child had gradually sunk, till as he finished his account Mr Western exclaimed, in a voice choked with emotion.

“‘And now I fear we are too late. Oh, that I had come last night!’

“‘Calm yourself,’ said Mr Ross. ‘It may be that I could do no more than your regular attendant.’

“‘Don’t tell me, sir!’ exclaimed the father angrily. ‘My child has been neglected – shamefully neglected. That man came to my house last night from some public dinner, and I feel sure now, though I did not detect it then, that he was ignorant of what he was doing. But quick, sir, follow me!’

“In another minute John Ross was in the chamber before the little sufferer, lying pale and wasted upon its weeping mother’s knees. For a moment the young surgeon was almost unmanned, when, looking to him as her last hope, the weeping woman raised her red eyes, and joined her hands supplicatingly, as if to say, ‘Oh, save – oh, save my child!’

“Wealth was there, glancing from every article of furniture in the handsome room, but the cold grim shade that visits the palace with the same stern justice as the lowly cottage, seemed to be also there waiting for a few brief moments ere he claimed his own.

“For a moment John Ross thought he was too late, and his brow knit with disappointment; but the next instant he drew a long breath, and as if nerving himself to the struggle with the destroyer, he threw off his coat, knelt down, and softly lifted one blue lid, to gaze in the contracted pupil of the child’s eye, and listened to its faint, sighing breath.

“‘Cold water – towels – vinegar,’ he then said, in quick, firm tones. ‘Now brandy. What have you there, arrowroot? Yes; good. Now the brandy – quick!’

“Father and servants flew to execute his commands, and in a few seconds the tightly-closed lips were parted, and with difficulty a little brandy and arrowroot was swallowed. Towels saturated with vinegar and water were wrapped round the little golden head, and extemporising a fan from an open book, the young surgeon placed the father at his child’s head to keep up a sharp agitation of the air, and ran himself to throw open the window.

“Directly after he was back, and watching the child with an earnestness barely equalled by its parents, as at intervals he spoke, after drawing out his watch and referring to it from time to time.

“‘Look,’ he said, in short, peremptory tones: ‘the eyes are unclosing, the pupils dilate already, there is a little more pulsation – that sigh was stronger. Keep up the fanning, sir; now another towel, and colder water.’

Fresh applications were made, and then another anxious interval ensued, during which the dark shadow of death seemed to fade, and in a wondrous manner light – the faintest dawn of life – seemed to return into the child’s face.

“‘Good, so far!’ exclaimed Mr Ross, while father and mother watched him with an aspect almost approaching to the veneration that must have beamed in the face of the Shunammite woman when the ‘Man of God’ raised her child from the dead. And truly this seemed almost a miracle – the miracle of science given by the Great Creator to those who will study and learn His wonders.

“But now Mr Ross was at a table, hurriedly writing out a prescription on a leaf of his pocket book.

“‘Take that,’ he said to Mr Western – ‘take it yourself to my wife, and bring back what she prepares.’

“‘To your wife?’ stammered the father.

“‘Yes, to my wife,’ said the young surgeon. ‘There, man, I’d trust my life to her accuracy, so do not be afraid.’

“With the obedience of a servant, Mr Western hurried from the room, and in a few minutes more the sound of hoofs was heard upon the drive, as he galloped off himself to fetch the medicine.

“In less than half an hour Mr Western was back, to find that the poor child had shown further signs of returning animation; the horrible convulsed look had left its countenance; its breathing was more regular, and already, with tears of gratitude, the mother was whispering her thanks. But Mr Ross only shook his head, saying that the danger had been staved off for awhile, but that it was still imminent.

“Then taking the medicine from its bearer, he tasted, nodded his head in token of satisfaction, and with his own hands administered a small portion.

“‘Now, Mr Western,’ he then said, fanning the child’s head furiously the while he spoke, ‘we have done all we can do for the present, the rest must follow, and all depends upon good nursing. With your lady’s consent, then, we will divide that between us; but I feel it to be my duty to tell you that the child is in very, very great danger, and likely to be for some time. What we have to do now, is to try and make up for the waste of nature that has already taken place.’

“Then followed instructions for preparing the juice of meat, arrowroot, and that an ample supply of brandy should be at hand; when, just as Mr Ross was in the act of administering a little in the arrowroot, the door opened, and in walked the great practitioner, expressing great astonishment at seeing his fellow professional there.

“‘You here, sir?’ he exclaimed. ‘This seems to be a most astounding breach of etiquette. Perhaps you will step with me into the next room.’

“‘Mr Tomkins!’ exclaimed the father angrily, ‘I entrusted the life of my sick child in your hands. You neglected that trust – whether from ignorance or carelessness I will not say – ’

“‘Oh, indeed!’ blustered the surgeon loudly, ‘I can see through the trick; charlatans and pretenders are always waiting to seize their opportunity; and – good heavens!’ he ejaculated as if in horror – ‘a dessert spoonful of strong brandy to a tender child like that.’

“Mr Ross turned upon him fiercely, but recollected himself directly after, and kneeling down by his little patient, he proceeded to pour the diluted spirit, drop by drop, between the parted lips, watching eagerly the effect; every tiny drop that trickled down seeming to brighten the eye, and give new life; even as when the effect passed off, the eye grew dim, and that life seemed slowly sinking away.

“The old surgeon made some further remark, but Mr Western sternly ordered him to leave the room, when Mr Ross rose from his knees.

“‘I could not speak before that man, sir,’ he said, ‘for he has heaped too many insults upon me since I have been in Elmouth; but I think that now, with careful watching and treatment, there may be some hope for the little one; and if you would prefer that your old attendant should take my place, I will directly leave.’

“As Mr Ross spoke, his eye lighted for an instant upon Mrs Western’s face, in which consternation was painted most plainly, but her husband took the young doctor’s hand, and in a broken voice said something respecting gratitude, and thanks, which he could not finish, for, worn out with watching and anxiety, he sank into a chair and wept like a child.

“Anxious hours followed, life appearing to be sustained by the strong spirit administered at intervals of ten or fifteen minutes, when the flame seemed to spring up vigorously, but only to slowly decline, and then begin to flicker and tremble, as if waiting for some stronger blast of air than usual to extinguish it for ever.

“And so on at every quarter-hour the little sufferer seemed to be snatched back, as it were, from the hands of death – all that day, all that night, and again the next day; and during that space the young surgeon never left the child’s side. Next night he lay down upon a sofa in the room for a few hours, but only to be awakened at four o’clock by the anxious father, who dreaded that some change for the worse had taken place.

“But the alarm was needless, though Mr Ross once more took his place at the side of the little cot, working incessantly at his task with the earnestness of a man whose soul was in his profession. No night seemed too long, no watching too tedious, in his efforts to get the better of the great enemy with whom he was contending. If he was away for ten minutes he was restless to return, lest any change should take place in his absence, and truly it seemed that, but for the incessant care and attention, death would have gained the victory.

“But science conquered; and from incessant watching, Mr Ross’s attention was reduced to visits three times, twice, and then only once a day. From the inanimate pale face the dark shadow had been effectually chased, and divers signs of amendment set in, one succeeding the other rapidly, till danger was quite at an end.

“And now the change had taken place; for instead of sitting at home hour after hour, neglected, and longing for a patient, the demands upon Mr Ross’s time grew incessant, till with a pout on her lips, but joy in her heart, Mrs Ross declared that she could never be sure of her husband from one hour to another.

“For the fame of the cure had gone forth, with all the exaggerations common to a country place, and wealthy old Tomkins grew at last fat, as he sat at home gnawing his nails with annoyance at seeing his practice become less year by year, till a call grew to be something unusual; and making a virtue of necessity, he told a crony, one evening in confidence, that with so many new-fangled ideas in medicine the profession was going to the dogs, and he was glad to say he was not called out now one night in a month; while as to meeting that upstart, Ross, in consultation, he would not do it to save his life – and he might have added, anybody else’s.

“But John Ross was not proud in his prosperity, and would at any time have stretched out the hand of good fellowship to the old doctor, could he have been sure that it would have been taken.

“The Ross family found fast friends in the Westerns; and it was at one of the dinner parties at the Hall, that after seriously speaking to his friends of the debt of obligation he was under to Mr Ross, and thanking him again as the instrument, under God’s providence, of giving them back their child to life, that, to give a livelier tone to the conversation, the squire related an anecdote he professed to have heard a few days before, in an encounter which took place between the sexton of the old church, and the old gentleman doing duty at the new.

“‘Ah!’ said the first old man, chuckling with triumph, ‘you don’t have half so many funerals in your yard as I do in mine.’

“‘No,’ said the other, ‘and somehow they seem to be falling off year by year. My place isn’t hardly worth holding now. The town gets a deal too healthy.’

“‘It does so,’ said the first speaker. ‘I’m nearly ruined, and can’t make it out anyhow – can you?’

“‘No,’ said the other, ‘it’s past me’ – ‘and then the two old fellows went chattering and grumbling off,’ continued Mr Western; ‘and if any one wishes to know the reason of the falling away, he must ask our friend the doctor there; though he will be sure to deny that he has had anything to do with it.’

“‘There’s the bell again, dear,’ said Mrs Ross one day, ‘and if it wasn’t for knowing that you are wanted for some poor suffering creature, I believe I should exclaim against it as being a perfect nuisance. You never now seem to get a meal in peace.’

“‘Oh! yes, I do,’ said Mr Ross smiling. ‘The bell does its share of work, though, certainly. By the way though, my dear, you never feel any dread in having the bell answered now, do you?’

“‘Dread? no; what a question!’ said Mrs Ross. ‘What made you say that?’

“‘I was only thinking of a few years ago, when a ring at the bell sometimes caused one’s heart to beat, lest it should be some hungry creditor.’

“Mrs Ross sighed, and then smiled, saying, ‘and all the rest has come of patience.’

“‘And work,’ said her husband.

“‘But I don’t think,’ she whispered, creeping closer to his side, and drawing one strong arm around her as if for protection – ‘I don’t think, dear, you will ever again say that the rich have no trouble.’

“John Ross was silent for awhile, as he recalled the loss he had so nearly sustained, and the scene at the Hall, when the hope of two fond parents lay a-dying, and then he answered softly —

“‘God forbid!’”