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- 3559
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z
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- 3499
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- The apothecary immediately gave him a pint bottle of something he
called _“Trafalgar Oil_ for restoring the hair,” _price one dollar;_
and told him that after he had used that bottle, and it did not have
the desired effect, he must try bottle No. 2, called _“Balm of
Paradise, or the Elixir of the Battle of Copenhagen.”_ These
high-sounding naval names delighted Blunt, and he had no doubt there
must be virtue in them.
I saw both bottles; and on one of them was an engraving, representing a
young man, presumed to be gray-headed, standing in his night-dress in
the middle of his chamber, and with closed eyes applying the Elixir to
his head, with both hands; while on the bed adjacent stood a large
bottle, conspicuously labeled, _“Balm of Paradise.”_ It seemed from the
text, that this gray-headed young man was so smitten with his hair-oil,
and was so thoroughly persuaded of its virtues, that he had got out of
bed, even in his sleep; groped into his closet, seized the precious
bottle, applied its contents, and then to bed again, getting up in the
morning without knowing any thing about it. Which, indeed, was a most
mysterious occurrence; and it was still more mysterious, how the
engraver came to know an event, of which the actor himself was
ignorant, and where there were no bystanders.
Three times in the twenty-four hours, Blunt, while at sea, regularly
rubbed in his liniments; but though the first bottle was soon exhausted
by his copious applications, and the second half gone, he still stuck
to it, that by the time we got to Liverpool, his exertions would be
crowned with success. And he was not a little delighted, that this
gradual change would be operating while we were at sea; so as not to
expose him to the invidious observations of people ashore; on the same
principle that dandies go into the country when they purpose raising
whiskers. He would often ask his shipmates, whether they noticed any
change yet; and if so, how much of a change? And to tell the truth,
there was a very great change indeed; for the constant soaking of his
hair with oil, operating in conjunction with the neglect of his toilet,
and want of a brush and comb, had matted his locks together like a wild
horse’s mane, and imparted to it a blackish and extremely glossy hue.
Besides his collection of hair-oils, Blunt had also provided himself
with several boxes of pills, which he had purchased from a sailor
doctor in New York, who by placards stuck on the posts along the
wharves, advertised to remain standing at the northeast corner of
Catharine Market, every Monday and Friday, between the hours of ten and
twelve in the morning, to receive calls from patients, distribute
medicines, and give advice gratis.
Whether Blunt thought he had the dyspepsia or not, I can not say; but
at breakfast, he always took three pills with his coffee; something as
they do in Iowa, when the bilious fever prevails; where, at the
boarding-houses, they put a vial of blue pills into the castor, along
with the pepper and mustard, and next door to another vial of
toothpicks. But they are very ill-bred and unpolished in the western
country.
Several times, too, Blunt treated himself to a flowing bumper of _horse
salts_ (Glauber salts); for like many other seamen, he never went to
sea without a good supply of that luxury. He would frequently, also,
take this medicine in a wet jacket, and then go on deck into a rain
storm. But this is nothing to other sailors, who at sea will doctor
themselves with calomel off Cape Horn, and still remain on duty. And in
this connection, some really frightful stories might be told; but I
forbear.
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