Passages from the diary of a late physician / with notes and illustrations by the editor.

  • Warren, Samuel, 1807-1877.
Date:
1835
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: Passages from the diary of a late physician / with notes and illustrations by the editor. Source: Wellcome Collection.

Provider: This material has been provided by the Harvey Cushing/John Hay Whitney Medical Library at Yale University, through the Medical Heritage Library. The original may be consulted at the Harvey Cushing/John Hay Whitney Medical Library at Yale University.

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    an eccentric and reserved man, shunning all company except that of a favourite black servant, 1 thought he might yet be liberal. As he was something of a character, I must be allowed a word or two about him, in passing. Though he occupied the whole of the first floor of my house, I seldom saw him. In truth, he was little else than a bronze fireside fixture, all day long, summer and winter,— protected from the intrusion of draughts and visiters, which equally annoyed him, by a huge folding-screen,—swathed, mummylike, in flannel and furs—squalling incessant execrations against the chilly English chmate—and solacing himself, alternately, with sleep, caudle and curry. He would sit for hours listening to a strange cluttering, (I know no word but this that can give any thing hke an idea of it,) and most melancholy noise, uttered by his black grizzle-headed ser- vant—which I was given to understand was a species of Indian song —evincing his satisfaction by a face curiously puckered together, and small beady black eyes, glittering with the light of vertical suns: thus, I say, he would sit till both dropt asleep. He was very fond of this servant, (whose name was Clinquabor, or something of that sort;) and yet would kick and strike him with great violence on the slightest occasions. Without being sordidly self-interested, I candidly acknowledge, that, on receiving him into our house, and submitting to divers in- conveniences from his strange foreign fancies, I had calculated on his proving a lucrative lodger. I was, however, very much mis- taken. He uniformly discouraged my visits, by evincing the utmost restlessness, and even trepidation, whenever I approached. He was more tolerant of my wife's visits; but even to her could not help intimating, in pretty plain terms, on more occasions than one, that he had no idea of being '* drugged to death by his landlord. On one occasion, however, his servant came stuttering with agita- tion into my room, that hib massa wis to see—a—a Docta. I found him suffering from the heartburn; submitted to his asthmatic querulousness for nearly half an hour; prescribed the usual re- medies ; and received in return—a guinea?—No, a curious, ugly, and perfectly useless cane, with which (to enhance its value) he as- sured me he had once kept a large snake at bay ! On another occasion, in return for similar professional assistance, he dismissed me without tendering me a fee, or any thing instead of it; but sent for my wife, in the course of the afternoon, and presented her with a hideous little cracked china teapot, the led fastened with a dingy silver chain, and the lip of the spout bearing evident marks of an ancient compound fracture. He was singularly exact