The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete
turns, “What, in the name of God!” cried he, “is the meaning of all
this trash!”
“Really, doctor,” replied the mother, a little confounded at being thus
taken by surprise, “Biddy has been taken dangerously ill, and lain
seven or eight hours in a severe fit, from which I am confident she
would never have recovered without the help of a physician; and as you
were absent, we had recourse to this gentleman, whose prescription hath
had a happy and surprising effect.” “Effect!” cried this offended
member of the faculty, “pshaw!—stuff!—who made you judge of effects or
causes?” Then advancing to the patient, “What has been the matter, Miss
Biddy, that you could not wait till my return?”
Here Fathom interposing, “Sir,” said he, “if you will step into the
next room, I will communicate my sentiments of the case, together with
the method upon which I have proceeded, that we may deliberate upon the
next step that is to be taken.” Instead of complying with this
proposal, he seated himself in a chair, with his back to our
adventurer, and, while he examined Miss Biddy’s pulse, gave him to
understand, that he should not consult with him about the matter.
Fathom, not in the least disconcerted at this uncivil answer, walked
round his antagonist, and, placing himself in his front, desired to
know his reason for treating him with such supercilious contempt. “I am
resolved,” said the other, “never to consult with any physician who has
not taken his degrees at either of the English universities.” “Upon the
supposition,” replied our adventurer, “that no person can be properly
educated for the profession at any other school.” “You are in the
right,” answered Doctor Looby; “that is one of many reasons I have to
decline the consultation.”
“How far you are in the right,” retorted Fathom, “I leave the world to
judge, after I have observed, that, in your English universities, there
is no opportunity of studying the art; no, not so much as a lecture
given on the subject. Nor is there one physician of note in this
kingdom who has not derived the greatest part of his medical knowledge
from the instructions of foreigners.”
Looby, incensed at this asseveration, which he was not prepared to
refute, exclaimed, in a most infuriate accent, “Who are you?—whence
came you?—where was you bred? You are one of those, I believe, who
graduate themselves, and commence doctors, the Lord knows how; an
interloper, who, without licence or authority, comes hither to take the
bread out of the mouths of gentlemen who have been trained to the
business in a regular manner, and bestowed great pains and expense to
qualify themselves for the profession. For my own part, my education
cost me fifteen hundred pounds.”
“Never was money laid out to less purpose,” said Ferdinand; “for it
does not appear that you have learned so much as the basis of medical
requirements, namely, that decorum and urbanity which ought to
distinguish the deportment of every physician. You have even debased
the noblest and most beneficial art that ever engaged the study of
mankind, which cannot be too much cultivated, and too little
restrained, in seeking to limit the practice of it to a set of
narrow-minded, illiberal wretches, who, like the lowest handicraftsmen,
claim the exclusive privileges of a corporation. Had you doubted my
ability, you ought to have satisfied yourself in a manner consistent
with decency and candour; but your behaviour on this occasion is such a
malicious outrage upon good manners and humanity, that, were it not for
my regard to these ladies, I would chastise you for your insolence on
the spot. Meanwhile, madam,” addressing himself to the mother, “you
must give me leave to insist upon your dismissing either that
gentleman, or me, without hesitation.”
This peremptory language had an instantaneous effect upon the hearers.
Looby’s face grew pale, and his nether lip began to tremble. The
patient was dismayed, and the old gentlewoman concerned and perplexed.
She earnestly besought the gentlemen to be reconciled to each other,
and enter into a friendly consultation upon her daughter’s distemper;
but, finding both equally averse to accommodation, and Fathom becoming
more and more importunate in his demand, she presented him with a
double fee; and giving him to understand that Doctor Looby had long
attended the family, and was intimately acquainted with her own and
Biddy’s constitution, said, she hoped he would not take it amiss if she
retained her old physician.
Though our hero was much mortified at this triumph of his rival, he
made a virtue of necessity, and retired with great complaisance,
wishing that Miss Biddy might never again be the subject of such a
disagreeable dispute. Whether the patient was frighted at this
altercation, or displeased with her mother’s decision against an
agreeable young fellow, who had, as it were, recalled her from the
grave, and made himself master of the secret that rankled at her heart,
or the disease had wound up her nerves for another paroxysm, certain it
is, she all of a sudden broke forth into a violent peal of laughter,
which was succeeded by the most doleful cries, and other expressions of
grief; then she relapsed into a fit, attended with strong convulsions,
to the unspeakable terror of the old gentlewoman, who entreated Doctor
Looby to be expeditious in his prescription. Accordingly he seized the
pen with great confidence, and a whole magazine of antihysteric
medicines were, in different forms, externally and internally applied.
Nevertheless, either nature was disturbed in her own efforts by these
applications, or the patient was resolved to disgrace the doctor. For
the more remedies that were administered, her convulsions became the
more violent; and in spite of all his endeavours, he could not overcome
the obstinacy of the distemper. Such a miscarriage, upon the back of
his rival’s success, could not fail to overwhelm him with confusion;
especially as the mother baited him with repeated entreaties to do
something for the recovery of her daughter. At length, after having
exercised her patience in vain for several hours, this affectionate
parent could no longer suppress the suggestions of her concern, but, in
an incoherent strain, told him that her duty would not suffer her to be
longer silent in an affair on which depended the life of her dear
child. That she had seen enough to believe he had mistaken the case of
poor Biddy, and he could not justly blame her for recalling Doctor
Fathom, whose prescription had operated in a miraculous manner.
Looby, shocked at this proposal, protested against it with great
vehemence, as an expedient highly injurious to himself. “My remedies,”
said he, “are just beginning to take effect, and, in all probability,
the fit will not last much longer; so that, by calling in another
person at this juncture, you will defraud me of that credit which is my
due, and deck my adversary with trophies to which he has no
pretension.” She was prevailed upon, by this remonstrance, to wait
another half hour, when perceiving, as yet, no alteration for the
better, and being distracted with her fears, which reproached her with
want of natural affection, she sent a message to Doctor Fathom,
desiring to see him with all possible despatch.
He was not slow in obeying the call, but hastening to the scene of
action, was not a little surprised to find Looby still in the
apartment. This gentleman, since better might not be, resolved to
sacrifice his pride to his interest, and, rather than lose his patient
altogether, and run the risk of forfeiting his reputation at the same
time, stayed with intention to compromise his difference with Fathom,
that he might not be wholly excluded from the honour of the cure, in
case it could be effected. But he had reckoned without his host in his
calculation of the Count’s placability; for, when he put on his
capitulating face, and, after a slight apology for his late behaviour,
proposed that all animosity should subside in favour of the young lady,
whose life was at stake, our hero rejected his advances with infinite
disdain, and assured the mother, in a very solemn tone, that, far from
consulting with a man who had treated him so unworthily, he would not
stay another minute in the house, unless he should see him discarded; a
satisfaction barely sufficient to atone for the affront he himself had
suffered by the unjust preference she had before given to his rival.
There was no remedy. Looby was obliged to retreat in his turn; then our
adventurer, approaching the bedside, reconnoitred the patient, examined
the medicines which had been administered, and lifting up his eyes in
expressive silence, detached the footman with a new order to the
apothecary. It was well the messenger used expedition, otherwise Doctor
Fathom would have been anticipated by the operation of nature; for, the
fit having almost run its career, Miss Biddy was on the point of
retrieving her senses, when the frontal prescribed by Fathom was
applied; to the efficacy of this, therefore, was ascribed her recovery,
when she opened her eyes, and began to pour forth unconnected
ejaculations; and in a few moments after, she was persuaded to swallow
a draught prepared for the purpose, her perception returned, and
Ferdinand gained the reputation of having performed a second miracle.
But he was furnished with a piece of intelligence, of much more energy
than all she had taken, and so soon as he concluded she was capable to
bear the news without any dangerous emotion, he, among other articles
of chit-chat culled for her amusement, took the opportunity of telling
the company, that Squire Stub (the cause of Miss Biddy’s disorder) had,
in his way to matrimony, been robbed of his bride, by a gentleman to
whom she had been formerly engaged. He had waited for her on purpose at
an inn on the road, where he found means to appease her displeasure,
which he had, it seems, incurred, and to supersede her new lover, whom
she quitted without ceremony; upon which the squire had returned to
Tunbridge, cursing her levity, yet blessing his good stars for having
so seasonably prevented his ruin, which would have infallibly been the
consequence of his marrying such an adventurer.
It would be superfluous to observe, that these tidings operated like an
admirable specific on the spirits of the young lady, who, while she
affected to pity the squire, was so much overjoyed at his
disappointment, that her eyes began to sparkle with uncommon vivacity,
and in less than two hours after the last of those terrible attacks,
she was restored to a better state of health than she had enjoyed for
many weeks. Fathom was not forgot amidst the rejoicings of the family.
Besides an handsome gratuity for the effects of his extraordinary
skill, the old lady favoured him with a general invitation to her
house, and the daughter not only considered him as the restorer of her
health, and angel of her good fortune, but also began to discover an
uncommon relish for his conversation; so that he was struck with the
prospect of succeeding Squire Stub in her affection. A conquest which,
if sanctioned by the approbation of the mother, would console him for
all the disappointments he had sustained; for Miss Biddy was entitled
to a fortune of ten thousand pounds, provided she should marry with the
consent of her parent, who was the sole executrix of the father’s will.
Animated with the hope of such an advantageous match, our adventurer
missed no opportunity of improving the lodgment he had made, while the
two ladies failed not to extol his medical capacity among all their
female acquaintances. By means of this circulation, his advice was
demanded in several other cases, which he managed with such an imposing