Page 15 of Lady for a Season
Maggie suppressed a gasp. Edward had borne being bled, blistered, his bowels emptied in the most violent fashion, yet he was afraid of the chair? How bad would it be?
“Now, Edward, I expect better of you.” Swiftly, he fastened the straps round Edward’s forearms and tightened the buckles. “Maggie, turn the handle so that the chair is raised from the ground.”
She hesitated.
“Come along, Maggie.”
She turned the handle with difficulty, straining against his weight. Inch by inch the chair lifted, until even Edward’s long legs could not keep his feet on the ground.
“Higher.”
A full foot from the ground.
“That should do it. Now, you must help me to rotate the chair for forty turns. There are mechanisms that do this, but I am afraid we must make do with this more primitive system here.”
One either side of the chair, they turned it, while the doctor counted and above them the rope holding the hook on the ceiling grew tight.
“One… two… three… five… ten…. fifteen… twenty-five… and forty.”
It took all of Maggie and the doctor’s combined strength to hold the chair in place.
“When I say the word, Maggie, you must let go and step backpromptly, you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well.Now!”
She let go and stepped back and the chair, released, spun so fast that Edward became a blur. He let out a cry and fell silent. The chair spun so violently that as it came to the end of its natural rotation, it began to re-rotate in the other direction, before slowly coming to a halt.
Edward was white-faced, swallowing repeatedly, his eyes unfocused. It was a horrible treatment, but at least it was over. She hoped the doctor would now leave.
“Excellent. And again.”
“Again?” Maggie stared in horror at the doctor.
“Well, of course, Maggie, one rotation would barely be enough, now, would it?”
“How many…?”
“We will continue for about two hours.”
“Twohours?”
“If you grow fatigued, I will call for Agnes or Eliza. They have helped in the past. But I am sure you can manage the first hour or so.”
They wound the chair and let it go. Again it spun, again Edward cried out. This time when the chair stopped, he retched and Maggie held a pail to his mouth, into which he emptied yellow bile, for he had not eaten at all that day. There was nothing in him to be voided.
“Very good. Again.”
“Please stop, sir, he is so unwell!”
“My dear girl, Edward is well used to this treatment. When he first came into my care and was less... tractable than he is now, I used this for an hour or two, three or even four times a day, for well over a month. It made a huge difference to him in the early days, so much so that now I need only visit him once every two months.”
Over and over the chair was wound and released. Each time, Edward cried out, gripping the chair with his bandaged arms, retching and retching again, even though there was plainly nothing left in his belly, not even the yellow bile.
“There now,” said the doctor, checking his pocket watch after an eternity. “That should do it.” He wiped his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. “Bless me, I believe I need a drink after that.”
Maggie followed him onto the landing to watch him go downstairs to the parlour, calling for Eliza as he did so, then hurried back into the room.
