Old Saint Pauls | Page 8

ever
required in that capacity. The children looked upon her as a second
mother; and her affection for them, which was unbounded, deserved
their regard. She was a perfect storehouse of what are termed "old
women's receipts;" and there were few complaints (except the plague)
for which she did not think herself qualified to prescribe and able to
cure. Her skill in the healing art was often tested by her charitable
mistress, who required her to prepare remedies, as well as nourishing
broths, for such of the poor of the parish as applied to her for relief at
times of sickness.
Her son, Blaize, was a stout, stumpy fellow, about four feet ten, with a
head somewhat too large for his body, and extremely long arms. Ever
since the plague had broken out in Drury-lane, it haunted him like a
spectre, and scattered the few faculties he possessed. In vain he tried to
combat his alarm--in vain his mother endeavoured to laugh him out of
it. Nothing would do. He read the bills of mortality daily; ascertained

the particulars of every case; dilated upon the agonies of the sufferers;
watched the progress of the infection, and calculated the time it would
take to reach Wood-street. He talked of the pestilence by day, and
dreamed of it at night; and more than once alarmed the house by
roaring for assistance, under the idea that he was suddenly attacked. By
his mother's advice, he steeped rue, wormwood, and sage in his drink,
till it was so abominably nauseous that he could scarcely swallow it,
and carried a small ball in the hollow of his hand, compounded of wax,
angelica, camphor, and other drugs. He likewise chewed a small piece
of Virginian snake-root, or zedoary, if he approached any place
supposed to be infected. A dried toad was suspended round his neck, as
an amulet of sovereign virtue. Every nostrum sold by the quacks in the
streets tempted him; and a few days before, he had expended his last
crown in the purchase of a bottle of plague-water. Being of a
superstitious nature, he placed full faith in all the predictions of the
astrologers, who foretold that London should be utterly laid waste, that
grass should grow in the streets, and that the living should not be able
to bury the dead. He quaked at the terrible denunciations of the
preachers, who exhorted their hearers to repentance, telling them a
judgment was at hand, and shuddered at the wild and fearful
prophesying of the insane enthusiasts who roamed the streets. His
nativity having been cast, and it appearing that he would be in great
danger on the 20th of June, he made up his mind that he should die of
the plague on that day. Before he was assailed by these terrors, he had
entertained a sneaking attachment for Patience, the kitchen-maid, a
young and buxom damsel, who had no especial objection to him. But of
late, his love had given way to apprehension, and his whole thoughts
were centred in one idea, namely, self-preservation.
By this time supper was over, and the family were about to separate for
the night, when Stephen, the grocer's eldest son, having risen to quit the
room, staggered and complained of a strange dizziness and headache,
which almost deprived him of sight, while his heart palpitated
frightfully. A dreadful suspicion seized his father. He ran towards him,
and assisted him to a seat. Scarcely had the young man reached it, when
a violent sickness seized him; a greenish-coloured froth appeared at the
mouth, and he began to grow delirious. Guided by the convulsive
efforts of the sufferer, Bloundel tore off his clothes, and after a

moment's search, perceived under the left arm a livid pustule. He
uttered a cry of anguish. His son was plague-stricken.
II.
THE COFFIN-MAKER.
The first shock over, the grocer bore the affliction manfully, and like
one prepared for it. Exhibiting little outward emotion, though his heart
was torn with anguish, and acting with the utmost calmness, he forbade
his wife to approach the sufferer, and desired her instantly to retire to
her own room with her daughters; and not to leave it on any
consideration whatever, without his permission.
Accustomed to regard her husband's word as law, Mrs. Bloundel, for
the first time in her life, disputed his authority, and, falling on her knees,
besought him, with tears in her eyes, to allow her to nurse her son. But
he remained inflexible, and she was forced to comply.
He next gave similar directions to old Josyna respecting his two
younger sons, with this difference only, that when they were put to rest,
and the door was locked upon them, she was to return to the kitchen
and prepare a posset-drink of canary and spirits