The Story of Robert North, A Colonial Apothecary
Chapter one:
When I came to America, my life changed, and I am unclear if that was for the better or for the worse.
It had all started about a decade ago, when I had moved overseas with my beloved wife, Catherine. The voyage was awful; it seemed to take years to get to Williamsburg, and Catherine got terribly seasick. But the promise of a new life and a better career pushed me forward, and I was excited to arrive. The plan was that I would become an apothecary at my uncle Charlie’s shop, we would live with their family until we had saved up enough to leave, and we would have five beautiful children and a happy family.
When I arrived, my apprenticeship felt long and confusing, but overtime I understood it, and mastered all the concepts I had never learned before. It all felt magical, that I, Robert North, a man who was never in the gentry class, got to learn more than many around me. Math, literature, and a bit of science was all within my mind. I almost felt like an old man with all that I carried in my head. I had felt that I had seen it all then, after all, I had already performing many surgical procedures, what more had I to fear now? I was skilled, experienced, and ready to be an apothecary. Now me and my wife could get our own cottage and have a family.
For a while, life felt like what is was meant to . Our family had grown so much after a couple years, and Catherine was currently teaching our youngest daughter, Lucy, how to be a lady. I wouldn’t tell anyone this, but she was always my favorite daughter. Though I loved Elizia, Benjamin, James and Eleanor, Lucy and I held a connection that I didn’t have with the rest of them. Unlike all my other children, she loved to be work with me, and often she help me grind some medicine and go to the woods with me. Whenever she came with me I’d tell her “You’re like my little apprentice”. She would smile when I said that, and I loved the way her dimples slowly awakened across her face. We’d then talk about how unfair it was that she could never be an apothecary. I would always nod and say that maybe someday things would change, and I’d go on saying how we would work side by side, one of us bleeding a patient while the other finding the painkillers, or something like that. Goodness, it’s been so long since that happened, I guess my memory’s fading now.
After a couple of years of being an apothecary, things started to take a turn for the worse. Many of my patients seem to fall ill after their surgeries, and many died even with my help. It was devastating to see all my efforts appear to be only worsening my patient’s condition, but I had no idea what I was doing to cause this for them. Even when I wasn’t acting as a surgeon, my medicine wasn’t always effective. I was running out of ingredients for my concoctions left and right now, and imports took a long time to come in. Sometimes I knew the medicine to cure my patient’s sickness, but I simply couldn’t give it to them.
I needed as much income as I could earn; medicine and tools didn’t come cheap, and I was already farming as well as doing my regular job. It was exhausting, but getting money for my family was well worth it. I loved my family, and I would do anything I could to keep them healthy. But it was quite hard, even with my knowledge of medicine, to keep them from illnesses that came from every which way.
Lucy often fell ill, but I persevered and kept treating her illnesses in order to keep her alive. It was hard work, managing her health and safety along with everyone else’s, and my own health seemed to be my last priority now. I fell ill much more often than most people now, and since I was not very skilled in surgery, I often cut myself and had many open wounds. Now that I think about it, maybe I’m the reason my family caught such awful illnesses. I couldn’t ever miss a day of work, so I kept worsening with everyday.
Chapter Two:
It only took seven days, and those were very short ones, nothing seems to stay with me beside her sickening face. I had been an apothecary for four years now, and like I had mentioned before, I had caught so many illnesses that it was a miracle I was alive. But now my family suffered, Lucy the worst of all. She had caught an illness that seemed make her warmer and warmer, and if I remember correctly, it was called the fever. Many of my patients had already fallen dead because of it, and it seemed to be so dangerous that I couldn’t risk being too close to her, so I was forced to let her be.
I missed her, even before she left me. It was horrible, terrible, awful, and all the words to describe the worst situation ever. Every time I caught a glimpse of her, she became paler and paler, sicker and sicker. I kept thinking that I could find an herbal remedy to treat her illness, but deep inside I knew it was a useless idea. “Peppermint? Germanium? My lord, maybe I’ll need rosemary to even remember her face when she leaves me.” That was all I thought about then, when she’d leave me. The world was only gray without her, and my wife and I were so depressed that she was all we’d talk about. It was like she was already gone.
The last moment I spent with her felt short, though it lasted hours. But to this day, all I want is to relive it and make it last longer. I had seen her every day, each moment her sickness destroying her. By now I had given up hope on her living another day, and the last moment I spent with her was both tragic and terrifying. She was lying on her small bed, she was only eight at the time. Her long, knotted blonde hair was spread around the pillow, and her hazel eyes were barely open. I was standing beside her, spreading another blanket on her bed. She kept pushing them off her, and when I lay my hand on her head I felt it was burning. She had become the sun in our family, both figuratively and literally. A sun burning so bright that it was killing itself, kind of ironic in a way. It was so hard and painful to see her now, her already pale skin now milk white. I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t quite find the words to say. There wasn’t much for her to look forward to now, so there was very little to say. So, I asked her if she wanted any tea, since in the past she would always for some.
“ Daddy! Do we have any lemon balm tea?”
“Not in the house, Lucy, but I’ll go to my shop to get some.”
“I’m coming with you then! The apothecary is much too far for you to go by yourself!”
“Honey, you’re much too young.”
“But I still want to come with you, Daddy!”
“Fine. Hold my hand, let’s go.”
After that, we’d walk the short distance together, hand in hand. She answered me slowly,
“Father, I am fine. Why don’t you read me something? You never finished that last book.”
And so I read to her, thoroughly, softly even, a medical guide written by Nicholas Culpeper. This was meant to help her learn more about medicine and my career, secretly I’d always wanted her to become the next apothecary, despite my knowledge of knowing this would not be possible. I read on, and saw her mouth slowly turn into a feeble smile.
The reading lasted hours, we pushed past many chapters in a fury. I guess I thought that the more chapters we could pass, the more chance she had to live. But it’s quite foolish to think like that, I already know. All of the apothecaries seem to know a little secret; believing in superstition is hopeless, it’s better to avoid it. Believing in fantasy will only hurt you deeply in the end, it’s pointless to believe anything you don’t truly know. I ignored it this fact, because of course I clung to any hope of her survival. I want to say so much more to her now, instead of just words written by an author faraway. At the time though, all I wanted to do was talk, I didn’t care what words I was speaking. My reading went well into the night, and I couldn’t find a way to stop my mouth from moving. After the sun set, I kept sobbing through words because I knew it would be our last night together, and there was nothing I could do to change it. So I read on and on, until my eyes closed without warning, and until I could read no more.
When I woke up, she was gone. Her body’s previous heat had disappeared, and now her former figure was only a cold, inanimate corpse. I couldn’t bear to look at her, or at least what she was now, so I left our house and walked with no direction. I tried to escape the pain of her death, but no matter how far I walked it stayed with me. I spent the day walking through forests and reading the guide out to her empty body, hoping she would hear me.
I would’ve quit my job by then, Lucy leaving me made it almost too difficult to treat any patient. But I had to persevere, because after all, without me many others would have to suffer my horrible fate. I have to be the hero that I had needed so badly mere months ago. I work much harder now, and I try to find a cure to her dreadful illness. I haven’t found too much yet, but I believe that I will soon. I hope that Lucy is there in heaven, helping me some how. I pray that she is everyday, and I dream of her quite often.
I haven’t told anyone this story it quite a while, it’s been too hard for me to think about or say. It’s been about a year now, but I still haven’t forgotten her. I don’t tell people this because I don’t want them knowing how she died. Not only would it ruin my reputation, but people would see how weak I really am. I am honestly the savior of these people, without me they would’ve all fallen dead years ago. I must let them think I am strong, because saviors and heroes aren’t weak.