Hollow Echoes in the Silent Conservatory of Malthus Spire

The Potting Shed and the Naturalist’s Specimens

Malthus Spire was the residence and private laboratory of Dr. Elias Thorne, a rural registered physician and amateur botanist who specialized in medicinal flora from 1878 until 1897. Dr. Thorne’s life was divided between patient care and the meticulous study of plants for curative properties. He was a pillar of the community, known for his dedication to his often-isolated patients. He vanished in 1897 following a particularly severe winter outbreak of fever, his house left sealed with all contents intact, the common assumption being a self-imposed exile or an unrecorded death while traveling to a remote patient.
His professional life was documented in the attached potting shed, which he used for preparing remedies and storing his collections. The air here was cool and earthy, smelling strongly of dry clay, chalk, and the faint, chemical scent of ethanol used for preserving samples.
We located his professional records in a high, dry cabinet. It contained a small, leather-bound volume titled Patient Register and Herbarium Index. This was his dual-purpose book, tracking both his medical cases (date, diagnosis, treatment) and the source location and preparation method for the herbs he used. The entries stopped on February 19, 1897, detailing a final visit to a family suffering from fever and listing the preparation of a large batch of willow bark tincture.

The Final Diagnosis and the Empty Satchel

The Patient Register showed Dr. Thorne made his final visit to the remote farm, prepared the medicine, and then ceased all activity. The resolution was found not in documents, but in the material preparation for his final journey.
Taped beneath the seat of a small, wooden stool in the potting shed was a small, torn envelope. Inside was a single, brittle note written in a shaky, almost illegible hand, a deviation from his usual precise script. The note simply read: “Contagion confirmed. Final route taken. Isolate.”
The diagnosis, self-administered and concealed, explains the sudden, total abandonment. He did not leave due to failure or financial distress, but due to a deliberate, professional decision to protect his community from the fever he had contracted on his final rounds.
The final piece of evidence was found hanging from a hook in the entrance hall: a sturdy, leather medical satchel. It was completely empty, save for a single, small, dry sprig of Yarrow flower tucked into the lining—a common folk remedy for fever. Dr. Thorne had discharged his final duty—confirming the contagion and warning of isolation—and then walked out, leaving all his professional tools and records behind. The lost diagnosis and the empty satchel confirm a self-sacrifice, the profound, untold stillness of Malthus Spire now representing the final, isolated resting place of a dedicated physician who closed his own case file.