Hunt, Henry, 1773-1835; Social reformers -- Great Britain -- Biography
As I had to ride a distance of sixty miles, I calculated the time I should
be on the road, and as I was to go thither and back on the same horse, and
it was very hot weather, I somewhat slackened my pace, that I might not
knock up the poor animal. As I passed through Devizes, I left word for Dr.
Hill to repair immediately to my father's; and without loosing one single
moment for my own refreshment, I reached my friend's, at the brewery in
Walcot Street, a few minutes before one o'clock, having come the thirty
miles in some thing less than three hours. Two men were instantly set to
clean and refresh my horse, to prepare him for my return, while I hastened
to find Mr. Grant. He was visiting his patients, for he at that time had
the best practice in Bath. Seeing my distress, his servant readily
accompanied me to that part of the town where he was most likely to meet
with his master; and we soon found the doctor, coming out of a gentleman's
house in Brock Street.[21] Upon my accosting him with considerable
earnestness and agitation, he invited me to return with him into the
house, where I informed him of my earnest desire that he should proceed
forthwith, in a chaise and four, to see, and if possible, save my father.
To this pressing application he replied that, sorry as he was to be
obliged to refuse, he must nevertheless do so, it being impracticable for
him to leave Bath; but he added, that his old friend, Bob Clare, was as
able a man, and as good a judge how to proceed in such a case, as himself
or any surgeon or physician in England. I urged that it was Mr. Clare's
most particular wish that he should come; that Mr. Clare had not time to
write, or he would have explained that it was a peculiar case. I then
described it, together with the symptoms, as well as I could. He shook his
head, and said at once, "I fear, if I could go, that I should be too late.
That Pewsey doctor can kill much easier than I can cure. The taking of
blood away at such a moment was most stupid, it was most damnable; he
ought to have put blood into him, instead of taking it away. I fear, after
that, there is no hopes. What says Bob Clare?" "I am sorry to say, sir,
that you are too well agreed in your opinion; but for God's sake lose no
time to fly and do your utmost to save the best of parents." He repeated
that it was impossible; for that he had the most important engagements
that evening, to break which would never be pardoned, either by his
patients, or by the medical men who were coming over, one of them from
Clifton, on purpose to meet him. He said, however, that he would recommend
me to a friend, who would, perhaps, be able to attend me; and he assured
me that he was a very clever man, quite as capable as himself in such an
affair. No, this would not do for me; Mr. Clare wished the assistance of
Mr. Grant, and I would not accept of any one else. I implored, I wept,
and, in agony of supplication, I knelt and seized his knees, declaring
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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