Life of Sir William Broadbent, bart., K.C.V.O., physician extraordinary to H.M. Queen Victoria, physician in ordinary to the King and to the Prince of Wales;

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LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM BROADBENT

LIFE OF

SIR WILLIAM BROADBENT

BAKT., K.C.V.O.

PHYSICIAN EXTRAORDINARY TO H.M. QUEEN VICTORIA

PHYSICIAN IN ORDINARY TO THE KING AND TO THE

PRINCE OF WALES

EDITED BY HIS DAUGHTER

M. E. BROADBENT

WITH PORTRAIT

LONDON

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.
1909

PREFACE

THIS Memoir of my father was at first intended
only for private circulation, and although at the
request of many friends it has been prepared for
publication, and to some extent modified accord-
ingly, it still retains many of the characteristics due
to the original purpose.

So far as possible, the story of his life has
been told in his own letters, linked together by
brief explanatory notes, and for this reason more
space has been given to the early years of
struggle and hardship than to the period of success,
when he was best known to the public.

The professional correspondence of a physician
must, as a matter of course, be held sacred, and
cannot be touched upon in any memoir, whether
for private or public circulation, and the incessant
calls of a large and active practice leave but
little leisure for the writing of other letters, or
for the discussion of subjects unconnected with his
work.

To this extent the biography of a doctor must
always be in some measure incomplete, but it is
hoped that those who were personally acquainted

2065269

vi PREFACE

with Sir William Broadbent will be able to fill in
the omissions for themselves, and that, in the
example given of perseverance under difficulties,
there remains sufficient to interest the general
reader, and to justify compliance with the desire
for publication.

Thanks are due to his sister, whose records of
the family history have furnished the material for
the greater part of this book, and to the friends
of his early manhood, who have allowed the letters,
which they preserved because of the affection which
they bore to him, to be made use of.

No one can be more conscious than I myself
of the deficiencies of this attempt to convey an
impression of my father's life ; but, as a sketch
may sometimes be more suggestive than a finished
picture, so it is hoped that the portrait of him
which emerges from the record of his own
words and actions may be one which those who
knew him will recognise and welcome as adding
to their understanding of his character, while
those to whom he is but a name may accept it
as faithful within its limitations.

M. E. B.

August 1909.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

LONGWOOD EDGE

PAGE

Birth of William Henry Broadbent. The Broadbent Family.
Life at Lindley and Longwood Edge. John Broadbent.
His Conversion to Methodism. Removal to Longwood
Edge. William Broadbent's early Education. Distaste
for Business. Ambition to be a Doctor. Apprenticeship
to a Doctor at Manchester (1852). Matriculated at London
University. A Lawsuit. Twenty -first Birthday. First
Patients. Early Letters to his Sister. Views on Reading
and Letter-writing. Lectures at the Royal School of
Medicine. Prizes. Failure to get an Appointment.
Decides to go to Paris . i

CHAPTER II

PARIS

Arrival at Paris. Sojourn with the Delilles. His Life at Paris
— at the Hospitals. Progress in French. His Desire for
Knowledge. A Christmas Letter. The Attempt to assas-
sinate the Emperor. Sees the Emperor. Questions as to
his Future. Leaves Paris. Friendship with the Delilles 28

CHAPTER III

ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

London. Examination for London M.B. Obstetric Officer at
St Mary's. Life at St Mary's in 1859. A Sister's Stories.
Other Appointments. His Appointment at St Mary's
extended. Walter Coulson. Appointed Resident Medical
Officer at St Mary's. Appointed Registrar at St Mary's.
Refused Admission to the College of Physicians without
Examination. Appointed Curator at St Mary's, and starts
practice in London at No. 23 Upper Seymour Street with
his sister as housekeeper . . . . .41

vii

viii CONTENTS

CHAPTER IV

FAMILY TIES

PAGB

His Interest in Longwood. Butterworth Broadbent. Lecturer
on "Comparative Anatomy and Physiology." Fever
Hospital. Early Struggles. Offered a Professorship at
Melbourne. His Engagement to Eliza Harpin. Can-
vasses for Appointment to Western General Dispensary.
Marriage. Sister's Illness. Her Death . 63

CHAPTER V
1864

Continued difficulties ; his views regarding his Career. His
brother Benjamin. Appointed on the staff of St Mary's.
Contributions to the Transactions of Medical Societies.
Study of the Brain and Nervous System. " Broadbent's
Hypothesis." Treatment of Cancer. British Medical
Benevolent Fund. Ruskin's Ethics of the Dust. Riot in
Hyde Park (24th July 1866). Birth and Death of Child . 83

CHAPTER VI

ORIGINAL RESEARCH

A Continental Holiday. Paris — The Rhine — Switzerland.
Climbing. Introductory. Christmas Letter to his Brother
(1868). 1868 Oxford Meeting. George Henry Lewes.
Original Research. Study of the Brain, etc. F.R.C.P.
British Medical Association at Leeds. At Llanfairfechan
(1869). Miscellaneous Letters .... 102

CHAPTER VII

FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR

Franco-Prussian War. Interest in Military Matters. Letters

from Paris during the Siege . . . . .125

CONTENTS ix

CHAPTER VIII

THE BATTLEFIELDS

PAGE

Madeleine Delille's Illness. Starts for Paris. Rouen, and some
Reflections. On the Battlefields. (1872) Luxembourg.
The Battlefield of Gravelotte. Chats with a Soldier. A
Town Crier. Sedan. Saarbriick. The Rhine. General
Views of German Government . . . .136

CHAPTER IX

34 SEYMOUR STREET

Removes to No. 34 Seymour Street. Full Physician at St
Mary's and Lecturer on Medicine. Income and Prospects.
Re-edits Tanner's Practice of Medicine. Death of Butter-
worth Broadbent. Progress in his Profession. His
Children. Letters to them . . . . .163

CHAPTER X

LETTERS, 1875-1880

Fortieth Birthday. Work and Lectures in 1876. Illness of
Mr Broadbent, senior. Income. Havre and Paris.
Professor Charcot. Salpgtriere. Congress at Geneva.
Bulgaria. Opinion of Disraeli. eath of his Mother . 179

CHAPTER XI

DEATH OF HIS FATHER

Death of Mr Broadbent, senior. His Funeral. Growth of

Practice. Dines with Ruskin , . . 193

i CONTENTS

CHAPTER XII

PROFESSIONAL WORK

PAQK

President of the Medical Society. Reminiscences of a Former
Student. Vice-President of the Clinical Society. Rome
and Michael Angelo. Romanism. International Medical
Congress, 1881. Member of Royal Commission . . 201

CHAPTER XIII

LECTURES AND ADDRESSES

Letter to his Brother. View of Politics. Domestic Affairs.
Paper on " The Cause and Consequence of Undue Tension
in the Arterial System." Harveian Lectures. Examiner
at the College of Physicians. Mechanism of Speech and
Thought. Mr Gladstone's Policy. Fiftieth Birthday . 214

CHAPTER XIV

IN THE WARDS OF ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

Illness. At Aix. At Dalmeny Park. Mr and Mrs Gladstone.

Work at St Mary's Hospital . • . . .221

CHAPTER XV

THE DUKE OF CLARENCE

Illness of the Duke of York. Illness of the Duke of Clarence.
Death of the Duke. Interview with Queen Victoria.
Letter from the Prince of Wales .... 234

CONTENTS xi

CHAPTER XVI

84 BROOK STREET

PAOB

1892, Removes to No. 84 Brook Street. Baronetcy. The

Duke of York's Wedding. Switzerland . . . 239

CHAPTER XVII

SOCIAL LIFE

Sandringham. R.A. Dinner. Lord Rosebery at the National
Liberal Club. Queen's Birthday Dinner at the Prime
Minister's. Retirement from St Mary's Hospital.
Marriage of Princess Maud and Prince Charles. Visits
to Ireland ....... 252

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST TUBERCULOSIS

The Crusade against Tuberculosis. Formation of the National

Association for the Prevention of Consumption . . 268

CHAPTER XIX

A FULL LIFE

Organising Work. Appointments. Coronation of King

Edward VII. Grandchildren. Seventieth Birthday . 277

CHAPTER XX

CLOSING YEARS

Visit of French Doctors to London and of English Doctors to
Paris. Commander of the Legion of Honour. Death
of his Second Daughter. Attends Meeting of the British
Medical Association at Toronto (1906). Letters from
Canada. Illness. Death. Letters from Sir C. Ilbert,
Sir C. Allbutt, and Prof. Osier . . . .282

INDEX ........ 299

LIFE OF
SIR WILLIAM BROADBENT

CHAPTER I

LONGWOOD EDGE

Birth of William Henry Broadbent. The Broadbent Family. Life at
Lindley and Longwood Edge. John Broadbent His Conversion
to Methodism. Removal to Longwood Edge. William Broad-
bent's early Education. Distaste for Business. Ambition to be
a Doctor. Apprenticeship to a Doctor at Manchester (1852).
Matriculated at London University. The Lawsuit Twenty-
first Birthday. First Patients. Early Letters to his Sister.
Views on Reading and Letter-writing. Lecturers at the Royal
School of Medicine. Prizes. His Failure to get an Appointment.
Decides to go to Paris.

WILLIAM HENRY BROADBENT was born at Lindley,
a village near Huddersfield, about a mile from
Longwood, on the 23rd of January 1835, in the
old house where his great - grandfather had lived,
which was occupied by his father and mother
during the first five years of their married life, until,
on the death of the grandfather, they succeeded him
at Longwood Edge.

His grandfather, John Broadbent, was one of
those small master manufacturers described by
Arnold Toynbee,1 who says: "They were entirely

1 In The Industrial Revolution.
1 A

2 LONGWOOD EDGE

independent, having capital and land of their own,
for they combined the culture of small freehold
pasture-farms with their handicraft."

Defoe has left an interesting picture of their
life :—

"The land near Halifax," he says, "was divided
into small enclosures, from two acres to six or seven
each, seldom more. Every three or four pieces of
land had an house belonging to them, hardly
an house standing out of speaking distance from
another. We could see at every house a tenter,
and on almost every tenter a piece of cloth.
At every considerable house was a manufactory.
Every clothier keeps one horse at least to carry his
manufactures to the market ; and every one,
generally, keeps a cow or two, or more, for his
family."1

This fairly describes the grandfather's establish-
ment at Longwood Edge.

The market-town is Huddersfield, three miles
south-east of Longwood, now a manufacturing town,
with a population of over 100,000, chiefly engaged
in the woollen trade.

It is a place of considerable antiquity, being
mentioned in Domesday Book as one of the manors
of Yorkshire, that then belonged to the Norman
Earl, Ilbert de Laci. " In Oderesfelt (before the
Conquest) Godwin, a Saxon thane, had six carucates
of land, being sufficient to employ eight ploughs.
Now in 1084-1086 the same Godwin has or holds it
of Ilbert de Laci, but it is waste."
1 Defoe's Tour.

LONGWOOD 3

Daniel Defoe in 1727 described Huddersfield
as already a considerable town, and the market of
the whole surrounding country, even to the foot of
the Lancashire hills ; the trade chiefly consisting in
the woollen goods which were produced in abund-
ance in all the neighbouring villages, "by means
of which industry the barren grounds in these parts
be much inhabited," says an early writer.

But at the beginning of the nineteenth century,
the population did not amount to more than 7268 ;
the houses were poor and scattered, the streets
narrow, crooked, and dirty, and the people, accord-
ing to Mr Phillips,1 debased and wild in their
manners almost to savagery. Their favourite pas-
times were bull-baiting and cock-fighting.

John Wesley records, "I preached near Hudders-
field to the wildest congregation I have seen in
Yorkshire," and again, "a wilder people I never
saw in England."

Longwood itself is situated among the bare hills
which compose the backbone of England — the
Pennine Range, which divides Yorkshire from
Lancashire — and it is almost the last village on the
Yorkshire side. It derives its name from the dense
forest which formerly covered the whole valley
between Nettleton Hill and Longwood Edge, the
latter being a bare, rocky ridge extending above
the village towards the wide sweep of moorland,
which rises mile after mile, until it reaches the
highest point of this part of the range.

1 Walks Around Huddersfield.

4 LONGWOOD EDGE

Traces of one of the longest Roman roads in
Britain — the one connecting York with Manchester
— have been found at various points, showing this
to have been an important military pass ; and it is
at Slack, a little hamlet a mile and a half from
Longwood, that the Roman station of Campodunum
was situated, as is shown by the fact that the whole
of this part abounds in relics of antiquity.

The hill opposite bears distinct traces of British
occupation, and on the high tableland which extends
along its summit, in a lonely and romantic spot,
were, till recently, some huge rocks, one of which
was known as the Rocking Stone, supposed to be
connected with the worship of the Druids.

Only a remnant of the forest is now left in the
upper part of the valley, from which a stream
emerges and falls into a reservoir, which is a
picturesque addition to the scenery ; but the out-
lines of the hills are still unchanged and, though
houses and mills have totally altered the character
of the country, it is easy to imagine how wild and
desolate it must have been in winter.

The village itself is not in the valley but on the
hillside, and consists of one straggling street of
irregularly built houses, many of them with the
long range of windows which shows that they
were once occupied by weavers. The rock of
which the hills are formed lies very near the
surface, and the houses and walls are all built of
stone, grey and weatherbeaten, in harmony with
the moorland which forms their background.

JOHN BROADBENT 5

Longwood Edge, as Sir William's early home
was called, is built against the steep hillside,
about quarter of a mile from the village, under
the Edge from which it derived its name. It is
a homely, old-fashioned, long, low building, raised
above the road on a sort of little terrace, and
sheltered from the north by trees and the slope
of the hill which rises above it. A little further
up the road are the farm buildings, and, adjoining
these, were formerly the workshops and manu-
factory, further still is a row of cottages called
"Stoops"; at the beginning of the nineteenth
century Longwood Edge was a very secluded spot,
the private road, which runs past the house, being
at that time apparently closed in with gates at each
end of the property.

An old woman, whose father lived in one of the
nearest cottages, tells how completely they were
isolated from the outside world, and speaks with
great affection and respect of Mr John Broadbent,
Sir William's grandfather, who took the deepest
interest in all their family concerns, encouraging
the parents in the bringing up of their large
family, and finding work for the children as they
grew up, on the farm and in the manufactory.
There was evidently a close personal tie between
him and every man in his employ.

In the Luddite disturbances which broke out in
the year 1812, his name was on the list of manu-
facturers who were to be shot for having intro-
duced a frame instead of hand-work in one of the

6 LONGWOOD EDGE

processes, and the threat might have been carried
out if one of his own men had not interposed.

He was a man of strict integrity, straight-
forward and honourable in all his transactions,
and a shrewd and successful man of business. He
and his household had always attended the church,
and the old tombstones in the churchyard record
their names ; but no account of the life of his grand-
son would be complete without some reference to
the subsequent connection of the family with the
Wesleyan Methodists, which began with Sir
William's father.

At what period Wesley's preachers first pene-
trated into Longwood is not known, and the first
striking testimony to the impression which they
made on the life of the village was the abolition of
bull-baiting.

Longwood "feast," or "the thump," as it was
popularly called, was noted for its drunken revelry,
and among the cruel sports of the time, the most
popular was bull-baiting ; but the influence of
Methodism touched the man who had always led
the bull to the ring, the site of which still exists
in the main street, and he, having been converted
himself, was anxious for the same change to be
brought about in his comrades. When the "feast"
came round he went in search of a preacher, being
determined that in the place where the people had
formerly assembled to witness a degrading sport
" they should now hear the words of life."

John Broadbent, the father of Sir William, was

A CONVERT TO METHODISM 7

born in 1796, and the last years of his school-life,
which were spent at the Moravian school of
Fulneck, left him with an eager thirst for
knowledge. He read any books he could lay
hands on, among these being Tom Paine's and
Voltaire's works, which had a mischievous effect
on him, and for some years induced an anti-
religious attitude.

At the age of twenty-four a great change took
place in his life, to which he often afterwards
alluded : —

" Before my conversion," he says, " I was easily
provoked ; anger and pride and covetousness were
my besetting sins, and I was aware would require a
double guard. My first resolve was that, as the
world so abounded in misery and wretchedness, my
part should be to do all in my power to diminish it,
and so to guard and watch my temper as not to
let it rise in my breast, much less appear in my
eyes or my actions."

On another occasion he writes : —

"In my first happy days of peaceful enjoyment
I thought it would be well for me to leave this
naughty world, supposing it almost impossible to be
a man of business and a man of God, but I soon
found out my mistake, for it was just the thing for
me. It was a settled thing with me to be on the
Lord's side under all circumstances, and I have
proved godliness profitable unto all things."

Moved probably by his first impressions of
Methodism, strengthened by the manifest im-
provement which it was bringing about in the
neighbourhood, he decided to join the Methodist

8 LONGWOOD EDGE

Society, of which he remained a firm supporter
all his life, although he maintained his friendly
relations with the church in the village.

It was eleven years after this that he met his
wife, who was the second daughter of Benjamin
Butterworth of Holmfirth, and had been educated
at the Moravian school at Gomersal.

The marriage took place in the Parish Church
at Almondbury, in 1832, and the young couple
went first to live in the old house at Lindley, where
they threw themselves heartily into the work of the
Wesleyan Church. They so far influenced the father
that after a time he began to attend the services at
Lindley, riding over from Longwood Edge with
his wife on a pillion, and spending his Sundays
with his son and daughter-in-law. As he became
convinced of the good work done by the Methodists
in Longwood, where they had by this time begun
a Sunday school in a cottage, he decided to help
them and gave them land for a chapel, of which
he laid the foundation stone in the spring of 1837.
He was then, however, in failing health, and did
not live to see it finished.

On his father's death, the five years spent by
John Broadbent and his wife at Lindley came to an
end ; and it was not without regret that they broke
up their happy little home, where three sons had
been born to them, William being the eldest sur-
viving, although the second by birth, and came
to Longwood Edge.

The new chapel opened the way for the advance

CHILDHOOD 9

of Methodism, and Mr Broadbent became the
leader of a class and superintendent of the Sunday
school, while his wife, in the midst of her domestic
occupations and the claims of an increasing family,
found time for visiting among the people and teach-
ing in the Sunday school.

William was only two and a half years old
when his grandfather died in the summer of 1837,
but he distinctly remembered some of the incidents
connected with the removal to Longwood. He
had even so early attended the village school, and
by his schoolmistress was regarded as a prodigy of
infant learning ; she was fond of recounting how
he delighted an audience by the wonderful way in
which he recited the Twenty-third Psalm, his clear
diction and appropriate gesture and intense earnest-
ness being remarkable in so young a child.

The first years in the new home were prosperous,
and all the prospects for the future seemed bright ;
but there followed a long period of anxiety and
stress, caused by the illness of both husband and
wife, and by the necessity of readjusting business
methods to meet the needs of the time. A transi-
tion had been gradually taking place, and the
general application of steam to drive machinery
struck the final blow at the small half-manufacturer
and half-farmer, and made necessary the transfer of
manufactures from quiet homesteads to factories.
An old mill had been handed over to Mr Broadbent
in part payment of a bad debt, and he hoped to be
able to start work in it ; but it turned out a bad

10 LONGWOOD EDGE

bargain, and had to be pulled down and rebuilt
before any use could be made of it.

In after years he writes to one of his sons : —

" Ever since my happy union to mother, I have
never lived for myself but for her and hers ; and no
self-denial was ever too great to contribute to your
enjoyment and comfort, and I never grumbled at
any expense that would contribute to future advan-
tage. But you youngsters will never know the
self-sacrifice it has cost father and mother to place
you in the positions you now occupy ; the industry
and economy I saw absolutely necessary to keep all
right at the mills, and in the trade, and the family,
has been no easy task."

The home training was singularly judicious.
No unnecessary restraint was put upon the children,
and even ebullitions of temper were not too severely
repressed ; but obedience and truthfulness were
rigorously enforced. It was the mother's regular
practice to gather her little ones round her on
Sunday evening for religious instruction, and every
day, morning and evening, they came together for
family worship.

"You are a consecrated family to God," says
the father in a letter to his son, " from your birth.
As soon as mother and I were able to kneel together
we solemnly gave you all to the hands that had
given you to us, and I think I might say that no
day has passed from your birth without a prayer
being presented to heaven on your behalf; and the
joy of believing that you are all on the happy way
is a continual subject of thanksgiving."

HOME INFLUENCE 11

That which gave greatest effect to the father's
and mother's teaching was the example of their
own life. The children saw that their parents were
guided by the same principles which were instilled
into themselves, and that there was no contradiction
between precept and example. Mr and Mrs Broad-
bent understood, too, at what point to relax
parental control and change the bond into one of
friendship and companionship, and, as their sons
went forth one by one from the shelter of home to
the wider experience of the world, there was no
violent change ; they carried with them principles
which they had already learnt to act upon for
themselves, and the freedom of their home-life,
while conducive to the development of their strong
individual characters, strengthened in them habits
of self-control and of self-reliance.

The father and mother always impressed upon
their children, as they grew up, the necessity of
making a definite choice for themselves of the good
part, and with most of them there was some
particular time at which this new life in Christ
consciously began ; but it was not so with William.
His mother always said of him that "he was one
who feared the Lord from his youth " ; and in his
case there was no particular point at which his
religious life could be said to begin, because from
the first he grew up in the religious atmosphere
of his home as naturally as he grew physically and
mentally. Throughout his boyhood he never gave
his parents a moment's anxiety, and he was thought-

12 LONGWOOD EDGE

fill and considerate beyond his years. To his
younger sisters and brothers he was a model
brother, feeling deeply his responsibility, and exercis-
ing over them the most loving care and protection.
A sister writes : —

" When I was born, my father had not recovered
from his long illness, and my childhood would have
been a forlorn one if it had not been for William.
All my earliest recollections are of his love and
tenderness, and I remember sitting on his knee
when I first went to chapel. Later I remember
well poring over Uncle Toms Cabin together, and
one day he found me reading Jane Eyre. I was
thrilled and fascinated, but when William explained
to me that it was not a book for little girls to read,
I never read another word.

" I loved him with intense devotion, and used to
hang about his chair ready to run any little errand
or do anything for him, and wherever he went, if he
possibly could, he took me with him."

After attending a day school in Longwood for a
time, William and his brother Butterworth went as
weekly boarders to Huddersfield College, which
was then a thoroughly good school, well up to the
educational standard of the day. He was studious
and made the most of his opportunities, winning
some of the highest prizes in the school, and making
some lifelong friendships, especially with Charles,
Henry, and Fred Schwann.

He left school at the age of fifteen and a half,
and was intended to go into business. For two
years he continued learning the various processes of

APPRENTICESHIP 13

manufacturing and assisting his father generally ;
but as it became evident that he had no taste and
no liking for business, and he had always wished to
be a doctor, his father determined, as soon as his
brother Butterworth was ready to take his place, to
give him his choice.

It was accordingly arranged that he should go
to an uncle related by marriage (his first wife
having been Mrs Broadbent's sister), who was in
practice in Manchester.

The deed of apprenticeship for five years was
drawn up in July 1852, when William was seventeen
years old. The premium paid was supposed to
cover all the expenses of his medical course in
Manchester, but it proved far otherwise. His
uncle's practice, which had been a good one, was
then deteriorating, and he himself too, and the
sum paid had to be frequently supplemented.

During the two years in which William had
been at home he had done a great deal of desultory
reading, without pursuing any systematic study,
and he now had to work hard to gather up the
threads of his school education and to carry it
forward. He had very little help, and any progress
he made depended entirely on his own exertions.

In some of his early letters from Manchester,
he says : —

" I always get up as soon as I can and cram a
little, but I have not my books yet. Uncle
recommends me to matriculate at the London
University, and of course I shall do so. Please

14 MANCHESTER

pack up all the Greek and Latin books — also
mathematical — indeed, all the school books."

" I am rather lonely at present, but I am getting
on all the faster with my work. Here is a little
account of the money I have spent. Odyssey, 35. ;
Livy, 33. ; Greek Lexicon, 145. ; note-books, etc.,
2s. gd. ; gloves, is. 6d. ; stamps, is. ; umbrella,
33. 6d. ; carriers, IDS."

In July 1853, he writes from London: —
To his Mother

8tA fuly 1853.

"The first examination is now over (Matricula-
tion). My probability of success, as far as I can
judge, may be estimated from the following.
French, pretty good ; Algebra and Mathematics,
good ; History, very bad ; Greek, very bad ;
Chemistry, good ; Geometry, good ; Natural
Philosophy, pretty good ; English Language, bad.
This last, however, when compared with what the
rest seemed to be doing, may be pretty good. I
have now another labour to commence, with rather
less chance of success."

He had no definite allowance from home, and
the amount which could be spared for his necessary
expenses was small, so that on one occasion he
writes, when he was in London for an examination : —

To his Brother B.

July 1853.

" I asked for money the other day, but matters
are now coming to an extremity. By Friday I

MONEY DIFFICULTIES 15

shall not be able to pay for my dinner. You must
not think I have been extravagant. I have not
spent 53. in indulgences of any kind, including
occasional pottles of strawberries."

And later on : —

" I have again to make the oft-recurring request
for money. To myself I seem to be always drawing
on father, and yet I cannot help it, though of all
things I have to write home for, the most un-
pleasant to me is when I have to ask for money.
What causes my present necessity is that the
London University requires me to attend more
hospital medical practice than the Apothecaries'
Hall, and as uncle only provides me with the
opportunities for passing the College and Hall,
of course the excess comes upon us. On this
account I shall want ^4, 135.

"Then about Owen's College. I have been
thinking of trying to do without, as there would be
a constant dribble out of my pocket for chemicals,
besides the £$ entrance fee. But the oftener I look
at the calendar, the more I feel the necessity of this
course, as the knowledge required is practical, such
as cannot be obtained from books. Would it not
be a pity to endanger my status for the sake of this
,£5, ill as we can spare it at present ? "

In spite of all these difficulties he was brilliantly
successful, and in 1855, writing after an examination
at the Royal School of Medicine, Manchester, he
says : —

" I have received many congratulations from the
better class of fellow-students. The prizes secured
are ^"5 Medal for Chemistry and £i for Anatomy.
I also consider myself sure of the £2. books for
Clinical Notes, and with this concludes the list of

16 MANCHESTER

prizes for the first session, leaving for all the rest to
share among them just nothing. I must work
harder than ever, so as not to make a bad con-
clusion to so good a beginning.

" I have been highly complimented by Dr
Browne on my success. And I value it the more
as he is considered to be, and is, the most con-
scientious man about the infirmary or school."

His father had become involved, along with
the other mill-owners of the valley, in a trouble-
some lawsuit with the Huddersfield Waterworks
Company about the water rights, which lasted for
four years, and was a constant drain on his resources
at a time when his increasing family and the ex-
penses of their education were also making large
demands upon him.

His eldest son writes in reference to it in
November 1854. " Butterworth told me that the
arbitrators' ' finding of facts ' was in our favour.
I am very thankful that it is so." This, however,
did not end the matter, and in July 1855 he
writes to his mother : —

" You may be sure that, though not with you
and though engaged in very different pursuits, I
share in the general concern which this dreadful
lawsuit has brought upon us. I was extremely
anxious till I heard from B., and now that it is
protracted still further completely discourages me.
Anything would have been better than suspense. I
almost feel disheartened when I look forward and
think what must become of us all if the judgment
should go against us. But we are in the hands of
a gracious Providence, and I often feel greatly

LAWSUIT 17

comforted when I reflect upon this. . . . We say
we believe the Bible ; if we really and practically
believe it we shall not be overburdened with care.

" I have long been impressed that our family was
destined to rise and not to go down in the world.
I love my profession and, with God's blessing and
good health, I doubt not I shall make something
out of it, though I must never expect wealth."

The lawsuit went against the manufacturers,
and he writes : —

To his Brother B.

January 1856.

" Your birthday comes round under very dis-
couraging circumstances, but things are not so bad
but that you may hope for ' many happy returns of
the day,' which I sincerely wish you. I wish you
would write soon, for I am anxious to know how
father and mother and all of you bear the shock
which the adverse decision has occasioned. I want
to know the amount of the costs. I have been
very much depressed since receiving your letter,
but I work at my studies as well as I can, knowing
that now there is all the more need for it. In a few
days it will be my birthday and I shall attain my
majority. I seem to enter upon manhood under a
cloud of adverse circumstances, but I trust in time
it will pass away. I have no heart to write much,
but I long to hear from you."

To his Sister M. J.

•$\st January.

"You will think it strange that I have not
written before now, but I was prevented on Saturday,

B

18 MANCHESTER

and that is the only time I have. I thank you, my
darling, for your kind wishes on my birthday. I
could not expect any present after the tremendous
loss we have suffered, and I was very much affected
by the sight of your present, for I recognised it at
once as a gift from father to you long since, which
you have been treasuring up, and now, rather than
let my twenty-first birthday pass without some mark
of your love, you sacrifice it. I shall always keep it
as one of my treasures, and, when in future years
I look upon it, I shall remember the circumstances
under which it was given, and think of the sisterly
love which prompted the act."

His health was far from good throughout his
five years at Manchester, and he suffered from
frequent colds and coughs which gave rise to con-
siderable apprehensions ; but it was not much wonder
that he should feel the strain of his incessant work
and, although at one time he was threatened with
a complete breakdown, he possessed great powers
of recuperation, and a few weeks at the seaside
restored his strength and energy.

The distance between his uncle's residence at
Higher Broughton and the surgery in the town
was considerable, and, after leaving the house in
the morning, he did not usually return till the
evening, lunch and tea being sent to him at the
surgery at very irregular hours and of uncertain
quality — in fact his meals required supplementing
by constant supplies from home.

His uncle at times gave way to intemperance,
and, as he grew more and more careless about his
practice, being often quite incapacitated from

FIRST PATIENTS 19

attending to it, William was compelled to do much
of the work, although he was still very young and
ignorant of his profession. He used to relate in
after years how he would go on his round to visit
and examine the patients, and note down in his
mind the symptoms of which they complained, and
the signs which he could detect, returning home to
search through his books till he could identify the
ailment, for which he would then prescribe some
remedy. He had to make up the medicines himself,
and it was extraordinary that he found time to
read at all, or to attend lectures ; but, as he said
himself, the practical experience was invaluable, and
he attributed his powers of close observation and
skill in diagnosis to this early training.

He had no separate study and shared his bed-
room with a fellow-student, so that he was obliged
to do his reading under very unfavourable con-
ditions, and he formed the habit, to which he con-
sidered that he owed his wonderful gift of
concentration, of ignoring all that was taking
place in the room and, in his mind, " going over
his bones," or recalling other points in the anatomy
which he was studying.

He had also to take charge of the books and
send out the accounts, and he writes : —

January 1856.

" I am working very hard now. I get up about
seven ; read till a quarter past eight ; then go to the
school and remain there, either attending lectures
or dissecting till half-past two. I then go to the

20 MANCHESTER

surgery to dinner ; then back to the school till six,
when I return to the surgery and work till ten. I
then return to Broughton, and it is generally twelve
before I get to bed."

•2nd December 1856.

" I have had so much to do in the practice
lately that I have had scarcely any time for study.
Nearly every morning I have to walk four miles
and see a patient before going to the hospital, and
often when I should be working in an evening I
have a long dismal round of five or six miles.
To-day it has been snowing very fast ; the streets
are consequently covered to a depth of several
inches. I set out to see two patients immediately
after the six o'clock lecture, when of course it was
quite dark, the snow still falling fast. I walked
along as fast as the slippery streets would allow
me, and as I came to a low part of the city I had
a foretaste of the treatment I was to expect, in the
shape of a snow-ball. Soon after a second from a
group of men standing at the door of a spirit vault
took off my hat. The men set up a loud laugh
and retreated into the shop.

" I had seen one patient and been hit several
times more, when unfortunately I fell in with
a regular mob of mill - hands. The cry was set
up, ' Here's a hat,' and they began to pelt me
with all their might. My hat went, and I was
hit on every part at once and completely
bewildered. Picking up my hat and holding it
on with one hand and my spectacles with
the other, I made my way from them. I was
dreadfully vexed. Well, I got along till I came to
another very bad part ; I was going down a street
and was told I had better turn back. I soon came
up to a group, but as they were engaged pelting a
poor woman, I approached them unperceived. I
saw what I had to expect, so when one had just

MANCHESTER 21

hit the poor woman on the head, I walked up to
him, gave him a kick behind and a good cuff which
sent him rolling in the snow. The rest I believe
thought I was a policeman, for I walked quietly on,
not heeding their shouts and threats, and not a
snow-ball was thrown at me. I saw my other
patient and reached Broughton tired and wet, but
had to set off again to the surgery, and here I am
writing this letter. Now is not this a long letter
to write when I am so tired and weary ? "

igth February 1857.

" I quite enjoyed the walking or driving to see
the patients, but to-day Manchester has been like
one huge wash-kitchen on a washing day with a
smoky chimney. The fog positively feels sticky,
and it makes my eyes smart to drive through it.

" We have had rather an eventful time since
uncle and aunt left. A new coat of mine and my
famous old study coat, with four teaspoons, have
been stolen. Then our manservant roused me out
of bed one night at about i A.M. to dress his
wounds, as he had had a narrow escape from
being murdered by a set of garotters. ... I have
been taking my tea and writing at the same time,
and now I am going out to have another taste of
the fog."

Letters written from Manchester to his sister
Sarah, then aged nearly fourteen, show how in the
midst of his heavy work, he yet found time to
guide her thoughts and studies, and to mould her
character, and all through his early manhood he
continued to take a keen interest in the welfare
of the younger members of the family, and gave
evidence of a singularly clear insight in judging

22 MANCHESTER

their capacities and the careers for which they were
best fitted.

The three eldest — himself, Butterworth, and
Mary Jane — seemed to form a distinct group in
the household, the next sister Sarah being eight
years, and the next surviving brother, John
Edward, ten years younger than he was. Then
after an interval of three years came a girl Eliza
(Leila), another boy Benjamin, and finally Arthur,
between whom and William there was a difference
in age of twenty years.

To his Sister Sarah

6th October 1856.

" We are just beginning real work once more.
I am of course much congratulated, but I must not
rest satisfied. Success or failure alike act as incentives
to further exertion. If I succeed I must work to
follow out my success ; if I fail, to redeem failure.

" When the box next reaches home you may
expect to find in it a book for your amusement
and I hope instruction. You remember the con-
dition on which I undertake to supply you with a
few novels so-called, and you know my reasons.
I think extensive and indiscriminate novel-reading
a most injurious practice, and especially for young
girls. It is to prevent this, and to have control
over the quantity as well as a knowledge of the
quality of such works that I have promised to send
you some of those I have myself read. You in
return promise to read none but such as I send
you, or till you have asked my opinion on any
that are thrown in your way. You have to write
and tell me what you think of every one you read ;
what characters you like, and why. I shall just

ADVICE ON READING 23

glance over each work before I send it, and direct
your attention to what I think worthy of it.

" Mrs L - must prevent you from spending
your leisure hours in reading. You must play a
great deal, and with all your might, and when you
receive the book, I shall be very angry if I know
you sit hour after hour devouring it. Take it in
moderation, read only a chapter at a time and you
will enjoy the whole more."

October.

" This book will arrive very opportunely for
your birthday. . . . One of the chief characters
introduced in this Last of the Mohicans is the
scout. When you have read it you must take
the map of America and follow as well as you
can the localities mentioned, all of which you
will find on or near the frontier between Canada
and the United States. Then you must look
over that part of history which relates to the
struggle between the English and the French for
the Canadas. . . . My reasons for choosing
Fenimore Cooper are, first and foremost, because
he is a great favourite of mine ; because his
narrative being full of thrilling incident pleases us
most while young ; because his style is clear and
elegant, his descriptions graphic, and because there
is a total absence of morbid sentiment of any kind.

"In my ideas the faculty of letter- writing is
rather a gift than an acquirement and you have
the gift. . . . Indeed you unconsciously praise
yourself in saying that you write as if you were
speaking to me, which is the very essence of a
good letter. Of course this gift may be vastly
improved by cultivation and care, and I am very
glad that Miss Maria is giving you lessons, but
when you write to me you must not think of rules."

24 MANCHESTER

In reply to a Birthday Letter

•27th January 1857.

" A great many important events have happened
since the last ; many will occur before the next
birthday ; all being well I shall be free from all
legal obligations. My indentures will have expired,
and I shall be in the world to seek or make my
way. I may not, probably shall not, be in practice
for myself, but I shall have begun to feel the stern
responsibilities of life. I hope you will have a
longer time at school than another year. As for
your qualifying yourself as a governess, you may
learn as much as you like — the more the better —
and I shall be happy both to encourage and help
you to acquire knowledge ; but never will I see you
exposed to the trials of a governess' life, so long as
with all the labour of my hands and head, I can
offer you food and shelter. But there is no fear
of any such necessity arising."

To Butterworth

i$/<4 January.

" By the time this reaches you, which I intend to
be on the igth, you will be twenty-one. You will have
entered upon that period of life when the responsi-
bilities of manhood are supposed to commence.
As you have not made any mention, I conclude
the event is not to be marked by any particular
festivities. It will be better signalised by special
reflection, no doubt, and, had I been at home, we
should have had probably a prolonged chat before
the fire — or rather a long period of quiet thought,
interrupted now and then by conversation on events
of the past and on hopes and plans for the future.
Well, I shall be with you in thought and prayer."

ROYAL SCHOOL OF MEDICINE 25

The lecturers at the Royal School of Medicine
during the time of William Broadbent's attendance
there were — Mr A. C. Heath on Midwifery, Mr
William Smith on Anatomy and Physiology, Mr
Arthur Dumville on Surgery, Mr Turner on
Physiology, Mr Lund on Anatomy, and Dr J.
Whitehead on Medicine.

At the Manchester Royal Infirmary he acted as
clinical clerk to Dr Henry Browne for six months,
and as dresser and clinical clerk to Mr Smith,
and he worked under Mr George Southam. He
received excellent testimonials from them all, and
a quotation from that of Dr Browne will show the
impression which he made on his teachers. He
writes : —

" In giving my testimony in favour of Mr W.
H. Broadbent, it would be superfluous to speak of
his abilities, as his remarkable success at the
Medical School and the London University is
abundant evidence of them. But I can testify
that all this success has not been obtained
without constant and untiring labour ; and that
his moral conduct has been equal to his persever-
ance and talents."

During his three years' work at the Royal
School of Medicine, he gained the first year's prize,
and silver medals in the second and third year, for
Anatomy and Physiology ; the first and second
year's medals for Surgery and for Medicine, medals
for Chemistry, Materia Medica, Pathology, Mid-
wifery, and Ophthalmic Surgery ; and the first,
second, and third year's scholarships for General

26 MANCHESTER

Proficiency, as well as the gold medals for Chemistry,
and Anatomy and Physiology, and the highest
honours in the examination for the first M.B. at the
University of London.

At the end of July 1857, on completing his
five years at Manchester, he went up to London
and passed the examinations at the College of
Physicians and the Apothecaries' Hall with his
usual success. His intention was to take a post
as house surgeon for a time, and then to begin
practice in Huddersfield. Having distinguished
himself and carried off the highest honours both at
Manchester and in London, it was not expected
that he would find any difficulty ; but he failed in
every application he made, and was greatly dis-
couraged and perplexed by such a continued series
of disappointments. He writes : —

LONGWOOD EDGE, ztfk Nov. 1857.

" By another mysterious dispensation of Provi-
dence I am again disappointed. I have not
obtained the appointment at the Infirmary. It has
been a great blow to me, but I feel resigned. . . .

" What are all my prizes and testimonials worth
now that they have been rejected at the very
hospital where they were earned ? Manchester
testimonials are valueless at Manchester. What
can they be worth elsewhere? I have felt before
that my provincial education was a great drawback.
Now I feel it more than ever and am more than ever
convinced that, if I am to rise above mediocrity in
my profession, it must be supplemented elsewhere,
and I am firmly persuaded that the longer I am
away from Paris the more time I lose. I had

FAILURE TO OBTAIN APPOINTMENT 27

hoped to aid in relieving father's embarrassments
by supporting myself and placing something in his
hands for my future use. That hope is swept away.
" I do not think it would be well to commence
practice. This last blow would weigh so heavily on
my mind, and for a time its consequences would
meet me at every step. I must prepare at once to
go to Paris. I am firmly persuaded that it will be
for the best in the end, but I must lose no more
time."

His mother says, in writing to a brother some
years afterwards : —

" I remember how William was disappointed
time after time ; it felt hard to bear, and things
looked very dark to him and to us when he tried for
the house surgeoncy at Lancaster and Manchester
and other places, and all seemed shut up. William
seemed to think all his labour had been in vain ;
but all was ordered by God and was working
together for good, and how wonderfully God in His
providence opened his way."

It had been decided that if he failed in his
application to the Manchester Infirmary he should
go to Paris and carry on his studies there for a few
months, and (though it was now near Christmas
and he had never been absent from home before at
that season), he started without further delay.

Paris at that time held a foremost place among
the Medical Schools of Europe, and it was no
doubt the reputation of such men as Trousseau,
Desmarres, Rayer, Ricord, and Piorry which deter-
mined his decision.

CHAPTER II

PARIS

Arrival at Paris. Sojourn with the Delilles. His Life at Paris — at
the Hospitals. Progress in French. His Desire for Knowledge.
A Christmas Letter. The Attempt to assassinate the Emperor.
Sees the Emperor. Questions as to his Future. Leaves Paris.
Friendship with the Delilles.

FRANCE in 1857 was under the rule of the Second
Empire, Louis Bonaparte having been elected
hereditary Emperor of the French in 1852, taking
the title of Napoleon III. A man of no dignity of
moral character, ambitious and unscrupulous, Louis
Bonaparte was, nevertheless, better than the
adventurers who surrounded him. As President of
the Republic established in 1848, he had concealed
his ambition and had waited his opportunity to
become Emperor ; but by the coup d'ttat of 1851, he
had swept away the whole existing constitution, and,
in order to prepare the way for the establishment of
the empire, the Assembly itself was forcibly dissolved,
universal suffrage was restored, and a plebiscite on the
new form of government was appointed to follow at
once. In the meantime the capital was placed in a
state of siege, and the Council of State dismissed.

28

THE SECOND EMPIRE 29

Outbursts of despairing resistance in Paris were
sternly put down with brutal severities, which aimed
at striking terror into the populace, and the men who
had won their power by conspiracy did not hesitate
to keep it by massacre.

After Napoleon became Emperor he did his
utmost to develop the prosperity of the country,
and although his government was almost inces-
santly involved in war, he was, no doubt, sincere
in proclaiming his wish for peace.

At this time the ruins left by the revolution of
1848, and by the struggles which preceded the
closing of the national workshops, were being
repaired, and Paris was being rebuilt according to
the plans of Haussmann, who devised the magni-
ficent boulevards which were to open out and
intersect the disaffected quarters of the north and
east.

Napoleon had also interfered a good deal in the
affairs of foreign countries. His action in regard
to Italy had resulted in the overthrow of the
Republic of Rome, and the restoration of Pope Pius
IX. in 1849, and had left deep and lasting resent-
ment in that country. In 1857 the Crimean War
was just over, and the Peace of Paris had been
signed, a peace which did little for the real good of
France, and had created some irritation between her
and England.

There were, therefore, ample reasons, both
external and internal, for the uneasiness which
prevailed generally throughout France, but more

30 PARIS

especially in Paris, at this time, and this may
account for the repeated attempts to assassinate
the Emperor, of which the best known, that
by Orsini, took place during William Broadbent's
residence in Paris at this period.

Notwithstanding these disturbances the social life
of Paris was, under the influence of the Empress,
gay and frivolous ; and in determining to go there
the ardent young Wesleyan took steps to make sure
that his immediate surroundings should be such as
would be congenial to himself and satisfactory to
his parents.

After a short description of the crossing from
Newhaven to Dieppe and the slow journey to Paris,
which was reached at midnight, he writes home : —

" Next morning I had my caft au lait and set
out to find the Methodist Chapel. On the chapel
door I found the address of Mr Hocart ; accord-
ingly, I set out to seek him ; being without map I
had to trust entirely to inquiries, and I managed to
find the place in a really wonderful way, seeing that
I could not understand half what was said in reply.
Mr Hocart referred me to a young man, the agent
for the Wesleyan books, and he again to a young
physician. We had great difficulty in under-
standing each other. With one circumstance of
our interview I was greatly affected. He was
asking me why I came to him. I was proceeding
to explain that I was in search of a house where I
should escape the temptations of this place. At
last he said slowly in French. ' Is it not that you
love Jesus Christ ? ' I saw at once his meaning.
He grasped my arm warmly and seemed wishful to
do anything for me. The same evening I called

M. ARMAND-DELILLE 31

upon M. Armand - Delille and arranged to come
here to-day. Of course it will be very expensive,
£2, i os. a week, but I think my safest plan will
be to stay here for at least a month."

He was singularly fortunate in the home in
which he found himself.

M. Armand - Delille was a French Protestant
clergyman, pastor of the church in the Rue Royale,
a man of wide cultivation and great eloquence,
known both in France and England as one of the
leaders of the Reformed Church.

Madame possessed a very attractive and sym-
pathetic personality, being a talented musician and
artist, as well as a devoted wife, mother, and friend.
Their home was a centre of social and religious
life, and William Broadbent became intimate with
the family, reading and studying French with
Madame, and learning the language from the
younger children, who, he said, taught him to
speak as no older person could have done.

He writes : —

"As to my lodgings, I have told you I am au
sixieme. My room is comfortable, warm, well-
ventilated and light, my two windows forming
doors opening on to a balcony from which I can
see an immense distance. I have my little basket
of fire, tables, chairs, chest of drawers, and my
enormous box. The windows and bed are taste-
fully curtained, and altogether I am very comfort-
able. 1 rise usually between six and seven, have
some cafd au lait and bread, and go to the hospital till
10. At 10.15 dejeuner, really a sort of little dinner

32 PARIS

— commencing often with potatoes — there is always
meat, and we drink tea or eau sucrde according to
taste. I then study French for a while, go to the
Ecole de Mddecine to hear lectures from 3 to 4.
At 5.30 we dine. After dinner we spend an hour
or so in the salon talking bad French, but improving
ourselves as well as we can. M. Delille has two
sons — also five daughters— oldest 18 or 20, who
appear to be very intelligent. Young ladies are
never allowed to go out alone ; they are guarded
almost like Moslems. In Protestant families there
is not such strictness in the household, though out
of doors they must conform to the customs of the
place. Accordingly, when we are in the salon
Mademoiselle is present and may play the piano —
a thing unknown in the Catholic family circles —
but even here when visitors are present Mademoiselle
disappears. At 9.30 again we assemble, drink tea,
and M. Delille reads and comments upon a psalm,
and prays.

" From what I have said before, you will judge
that the Ecole de Me'decine is not likely to profit me
very .much professionally. The hospitals, on the
contrary, offer a vast field for the acquirement of
knowledge. I have been at three, and followed
several very eminent men, Trousseau, Rayer, etc.,
but Trousseau is the man. I have presented my
letter of introduction to him, and have been kindly
received, henceforward I watch chiefly his practice,
and already I have learnt much. M. Fabre, the
student to whom Dr Roberts has given me an
introduction, is externe to Rayer, and is capable of
initiating me more fully into the ways of the
hospitals, particularly of La Charitt, at which he
is a constant attendant.

" The wards are beautifully clean and neat ;
they are superintended by sisters of charity, whom
the surgeons always address as ma mere. The

HOSPITALS 33

comportment of the medical men in the wards is
very different from that of the English ; they often
address the patient as ma petite fille, mon enfant,
and will joke with them and with some of the
students.

"The quarter of Paris I am in is from time
immemorial devoted to .students of all grades, and
it is not by any means the most pleasant. Still I
am very near the gardens of the Luxembourg, which
in summer will form a most agreeable retreat.

" I think it has been a providential occurrence
that I have met with this family. The terms are
certainly very high, but I have no trouble or anxiety,
and I have been saved from the hands of those who
might have taken advantage of my ignorance and
have defrauded me. You can have no idea of the
difficulties you meet with in a foreign land. At
first I had the greatest difficulty in understanding
anything at all. Now I understand nearly all that
is said in the lectures and hospitals. I have still
difficulty in colloquial conversation. I can take
some share in it, but cannot catch all that is said.

" I believe I am in the way of obtaining much
practical knowledge, though I may not succeed in
procuring certificates from the professors here, as I
had hoped. Well, it is the knowledge I want, not
chiefly the appearance of it. I must try to make a
name and reputation for myself, not build one up
on the testimony and names of others. Thus far I
have reason to consider my coming to Paris a step
in the right direction. I am learning every day,
and working up for my examination."

To his Sister S.

"It seems very strange to be away from you at
Christmas. I shall not be roused to-night by the

34 PARIS

singers, and hear ' Christians Awake ' melodiously
cleaving the night. I shall not join with you
in the festivities of the season ; no brawn, no
pork pies, no roast beef and plum pudding, no
football."

Christmas Day.

11 Last night we went to a midnight mass at
St Roch ; at about 11.30 a venerable-looking old
man addressed the assembled thousands. Then a
beautiful Chant de Noel was sung, and, as the clock
struck twelve, the first great chorus of the mass
burst upon our ears. The service ended by a
baritone voice singing the air of the Portuguese
hymn, our love feast and tea meeting tune. The
scenic effects, the candles surrounding the altar, the
magnificent robes, the mystery thrown around the
proceedings, the splendid music, all tended to
divert the mind from spiritual worship to material
ceremonial."

To his Eldest Sister

Christmas Day.

" I have been to the chapel, and in returning
crossed the gardens of the Tuileries, my nearest
way. You will remember what stormy scenes the
Tuileries and its gardens have witnessed. I often
think of them as I pass them now, devoted as they
seem to pleasure and show. . . . There must have
been hundreds of children and nurses, the bonnes all
in white caps and neat dresses. I was particularly
interested with a skipping party of little girls, most
beautiful little children some of them were, and so
richly dressed. What belles they will be should
they live! Already they have the air of little
coquettes, and were evidently pleased with the

ATTEMFP TO ASSASSINATE EMPEROR 35

admiration of the crowd, of which I for a time
formed one.

" I have heard once, and intend to hear again,
M. St Marc Girardin, Professor of Eloquence at
the Sorbonne. He lectures on the poetry of the
Middle Ages, speaks the most beautiful French,
and seems to do what he can to stem the stream of
immorality which pours like a torrent through
French society, threatening to sap its foundations.
The hall in which he lectures is crowded with men
of every age, rank, and station. He does his best
to put truth and right before them in its most
attractive form ; he exposes the vices of this age
and country ; tries to show their fearful conse-
quences ; endeavours to bring home the beautiful
and truthful lessons he draws from his subject."

\$th Jan. 1858.

" Last night there was an attempt to assassinate
the Emperor. As his carriage stopped at the
Opera House, three explosions were heard under
the horses' feet, and several persons are said to
have been wounded. The Emperor and Empress
were in the carriage together ; neither were touched.
There is a great diversity of opinion in France,
some are Imperialists, others Republicans, others
Orleanists."

20th Jan.

" I saw the place where the assassination of the
Emperor was attempted, and wondered more than
ever at his escape. The street is narrow ; the
windows of the houses on one side were broken as
high as the third story, the windows of the doors
of the Opera House on the other ; marks on the
walls, pillars, doors, show the force of the projectiles.
I saw him in the Jardin des Tuileries as I returned
from chapel on Sunday. He was walking along

36 PARIS

the front of the palace with another gentleman.
He is rather an insignificant-looking person. His
gait is not at all stately. The conspiracy was much
more extensive than was at first supposed. There
is much talk about the repressive policy the
Emperor has initiated. The Times has been ex-
cluded from France for two days. I fear the
Emperor is taking a wrong course, especially in
religious intolerance. I have many discussions with
M. Fabre, who feels deeply the state of his country."

26M Feb. 1858.

"The Carnival passed, we have settled down
into our quiet habits ; but considerable excitement
is roused by the trial of the assassins who attempted
the life of the Emperor. Still greater excitement
had been caused by the defeat and resignation of
Lord Palmerston. For my part I do not consider
his bill to mean much one way or another ; but I
was rather vexed that he should be turned out by
such a party ruse. Had Lord P. returned an
answer as Parliament decided he ought to have
done, it would have afforded the Opposition the
best handle in the world. Either it would have
been giving in to the Emperor, or it would have
been set down as another attempt to embroil us
with all Europe.

" It is true, as Mr Jessop says, that one
has to be extremely careful as to the opinions
expressed respecting the Emperor ; but there is
no danger in an Englishman saying pretty nearly
what he chooses. The French are also infinitely
more communicative to the English than to each
other ; they have some sort of confidence in our
honour, and can feel sure that at least we are
not police agents. In talking with them in the
streets, or gardens, or hospitals, however, when they
have anything to say against the Government, they

EXCITEMENT IN PARIS 37

glance carefully around, or manoeuvre one into a
corner, and sometimes suddenly change the con-
versation when any suspicious-looking individual is
near. As I am not so expert, and say what I have
to say without all these precautions, I sometimes
see an uneasy expression on their countenance,
when of course I stop."

i$th March.

" This morning Orsini and Fieri have expiated
their crime on the scaffold. An eye-witness tells
me that Fieri had to be carried to the guillotine,
but that Orsini walked up with head erect and step
firm. I feel glad that I did not allow my curiosity
to conquer my horror and go to see the execution.
Such scenes must harden the heart. Next to the
excitement caused by this is that excited by the
publication of a little brochure, entitled Napotton
III. et L'Angleterre. It is a defence of the
Emperor's policy throughout. Altogether there is
a great ferment here, and I am told that above
3000 persons have been arrested in Paris. The
police are busy enough. Our Union Chre"tienne
became a suspected society. Everyone was placed
under surveillance, and I suppose I amongst the
rest have been the subject of the solicitude of the
police. However, the result has been a very
satisfactory report that if all the young men were
like the members of the Union Chretienne, Paris
would be tranquil enough."

Some time afterwards he made the acquaintance
of an official high in the police service, who laugh-
ingly told him that his name was very familiar to
him, and subsequently allowed him to see the
dossier, in which he found that every move-
ment for many weeks had been recorded.

His time in Paris was drawing to a close, and

38 PARIS

he was very undecided as to what should be the
next step in his career. One suggestion being that
he should settle in Huddersfield, various proposals
of buying a partnership, or of starting as an
assistant were debated, and many letters passed
between William and his father and brother on
the subject.

In one of them he says : —

May 1858.

" I wonder if father ever thinks that he has very
near at hand a hole into which a lot of capital will
sink without a chance of interest for some time. I
mean his son William and his launch into life.
Well I must not go in at the large end of the
trumpet. Little by little I hope to get on ;
patience, perseverance, trust in God, will I hope
carry me through the first trying years of my
career, and release father from the burden I have
been."

Writing on 4th June, he ends : —

" Above all, Butterworth, we must make this a
matter of prayer. . . . I think we shall all be agreed
in thinking that perhaps the safer course will be
to let me commence alone and struggle my
way up.

"At present I am engaged in special study of
diseases of the eye under M. Desmarres. I pay
only 10 francs a month, and go to his clinique
three times a week. I am also following a course
of percussion under Piorry and his internes, and
without good reasons I do not wish to give them
up. Should you wish me to return, decide if
possible soon after the i4th."

MADAME ARMAND-DELILLE 39

The decision was that he should try to make
his own way, and it was at first thought that
he should take rooms with one of his sisters
to keep house for him ; but this project was only
carried out two years later, the intervening time
being spent by him as resident at St Mary's
Hospital.

On his return from Paris in July, the rest of
the summer was passed at home in working for
the examination for the M.B. of the London
University.

The friendship begun in Paris with the Delille
family was one which endured for the remainder of
their lives, and for many years a close and intimate
correspondence was maintained between Madame
Armand- Delille and the young physician, in whom
she had recognised a kindred soul. French was
the language employed, since Madame's acquaint-
ance with English was limited, and she wrote to
him as to one of her own sons, taking a keen
interest in every event of his life, and confiding to
him all her own sorrows and anxieties, sure
of a sympathy which never failed in heart,
although, as years went on, pressure of work
on his side, and the weight of advancing age
on hers, caused the letters to become gradually
less frequent. She was godmother to his eldest
child, and the youngest was called after one
of her daughters, Madeleine, who died as a
result of the hardships endured during the siege
of Paris.

40 PARIS

An extract from one of her letters shows the
impression which she received of his character : —

14 Mars 1859.

" Plus que jamais, ma pensde vous suit. Etes-
vous bien? A mon tour j'6tudie votre derniere
lettre. N'y a-t-il qu'une influence physique qui agit
sur vous ? Ne s'y joint-il point quelque preoccupa-
tion morale, peut-etre meme a votre insu ? Sur une
nature comme la votre, la plus tegere impression
peut produire un ebranlement. II y a en vous
un 6tonnant melange de fermetd et de sensibilite.
Je me rappelle qu'ici, quand je commenc.ais sans
m'en bien rendre compte, a chercher a vous deviner,
il y eu deux ou trois periodes oil j'ai cru que la
fermet6 etait ce qu'il y avait de plus saillant en
vous. Maintenant je connais 1'autre cote."

CHAPTER III

ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

London. Examination for London M.B. Obstetric Officer at St
Mary's. Life at St Mary's in 1859. A Sister's Stories. Other
Appointments. His Appointment at St Mary's extended. Walter
Coulson. Appointed Resident Medical Officer at St Mary's.
Appointed Registrar at St Mary's. Refused Admission to the
College of Physicians without Examination. Appointed Curator
at St Mary's, and starts practice in London at No. 23 Upper
Seymour Street, with his sister as housekeeper.

IT seems as if the disappointments and perplexities
with regard to his future career had deepened his
spiritual life, and it is possible that his prolonged
absence from home and the consciousness of being
in a foreign country led to a fuller expression than
was common with him of his feelings and aspira-
tions. Be this as it may, his letters from Paris
and the diary which he kept at this time contain
frequent inquiries as to the growth of religious
influence in the village, and constant references to
his own attendance at services or meetings, to his
own experience, and to the principles on which his
actions were based.

His father and mother were among the most
active supporters of Methodism, which was now
spreading rapidly in Longwood, giving both time

42 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

and money to the work, in spite of the many claims
upon them ; and those of their family who remained
at home shared their enthusiasm, and as they grew
up became members of the society, taking their
places in the Sunday school and classes.

William had tried to do his part, but his innate
reserve made even teaching difficult and distasteful
to him, and it was only to the few with whom he
was most intimate and most in sympathy that he
ever revealed what was in truth the foundation of
his character and life.

After three months spent at home in study, he
came up to London for the examination for the
London M.B. in October, and in referring to the
results he says : —

To Miss J. (a friend of his Manchester days]

zgth Nov. 1858.

" I should have written at once on learning how
ill you had been, but I thought I would wait so
as to be able to tell you about these 'miserable
honours,' and really when I saw the lists, I felt
inclined to adopt your expression. I have done
very well and very badly. I am first in Compara-
tive Anatomy and Physiology, and take the scholar-
ship— first in Midwifery, but sixth in Surgery and
nowhere in Medicine, whereas I had been flatter-
ing myself that I had done remarkably well in
Medicine."

Although far from satisfied himself with the
results of the examination, he had, in fact, been so
successful (taking first-class honours in Medicine, and

43

the gold medal in Obstetric Medicine, as well as
the scholarship in Comparative Anatomy and Physi-
ology), that he was told the distinctions which he had
earned might possibly open his way to a post in
one of the London hospitals, and hearing of one at
St Mary's, he applied and was at once appointed
Obstetric Officer, beginning his work there on the
loth of December 1858. In this most unexpected
way began his life-long association with St Mary's
Hospital.

Hospital life was rougher and less carefully
organised than at the present day, and perhaps
more freedom and responsibility were allowed to
the residents than would now be the case. Cer-
tainly there seems to have been no lack of oppor-
tunities of work for those who were anxious to
undertake it, and a few notes written many years
later will give an idea of the life led by the resident
Obstetric Officer during the first months of his
appointment : —

" In those days the students of St Mary's might
almost have been driven about in a four-wheel cab
— certainly in a bus — and there was not the internal
competition for these house appointments which I
am happy to say exists now.

" I had at first not a single student to assist me,
and I remember tramping through the night on the
last day of the old year from one case to another,
and hearing for the first time in my life the impres-
sive pause of multitudinous bells as the old year
expired, and the outburst which rang in the new.

"On one occasion I attended seven labours in
twenty-four hours, and was hauled up before the

44 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

Board for not attending an eighth. My two chiefs
left me very much to myself, and in the eleven
months during which I held the appointment I had
to deal single-handed with almost every complication
incident to labour."

Letters written home at the time give a descrip-
tion of the work which he was expected to do and
of the responsibility thrown upon him.

Christmas Day, 1858.

" I do not expect to be so busy as I have been.
Had the work lasted I could not have stood it, but
I am very well, better than when I left home. I
shall now lose less time than I have done, as I see
my out-patients at 9.30 instead of 11.30, which cut
up the morning too much. After seeing my out-
patients I go into the wards, then out into the
districts, and I hope now to finish this by luncheon
time. At 1.30 I must be prepared to meet Dr
Tyler Smith or Mr Baker Brown, and to see their
out-patients if they do not come. I then go round
with them. I expect now if I can finish the out-
door work before luncheon, to get done the taking
of notes, etc., and to have a little time to myself
before dinner, which I shall partly spend going
round with other physicians. After dinner I ought
to have my time to myself, except a visit to the
wards, but one thing and another have sadly
interfered with this. I am deriving great benefit
from the practice, but see at present no chance of
the appointment leading to anything better. I
shall be expected to make room for some student
at the end of six months."

4th January.

" I have had another spell of tremendous
work, beating the first out and out. Such
a run of bad cases I should think scarcely

THE MEDICAL STAFF 45

ever happened to anyone, causing me intense
anxiety. I have now seen examples of nearly all
the complications in midwifery. Happily I have
as yet lost none. On the night of 3Oth December
I was in bed about half an hour; 3ist, about three
hours; ist January, not at all; and on 2nd
January I was called out, but got back in two
and a half hours. I seem to be no worse for it,
when once I have had a good night's rest."

Hospital politics will hardly be of interest to
readers of the present day ; but St Mary's in its early
years seems to have been anything but an abode of
peace, and the letters home speak of the " quarrelling
going on here," and of "the parties and cabals."

A sketch apparently intended for a friend gives
an impression of some members of the staff, and
notes of tales told by the Sister of one of the wards,
convey some idea of the character of the nursing
and discipline of those days : —

" I thought that in quitting our little country
town I was quitting the region of little minds and
little ways — that in the great Metropolis I should
find great men, with great hearts, and grand
designs. Especially you will remember how often
I used to go over the list of names of the officers
and lecturers of St Mary's Hospital, the school of
my choice, the heir of the future, I used to call it,
as it could not boast of being the child of a long
past. You remember how I tried to find for what
each man was famous, and how I caught up any
word applied to my future teachers. Ye are gods,
I thought to myself. So I thought, too, on the
evening of the introductory. But they are men,
Tom, only men. I cannot trace the process of

46 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

ddsillusionnement ; indeed it was too sudden and
sharp to be called a process. But as we have
together gone over their names, and I have proudly
dilated on what I supposed they were, let me now
take them one by one and tell you what they are.
Physicians first.

" The senior physician, as you know, is Alder-
son, F.R.S., of high standing in the College of
Physicians, of some renown, and formerly Fellow
of St John's. A man who has taught mathe-
matics at Cambridge must have something in him,
and old A. is a very shrewd fellow ; evidently no
great hand at physical diagnosis, i.e., finding out
what's wrong inside a man, but with an eye
that goes through his patients ; and, so far as
I can see, he generally knows as much about a
case when he has stood at the foot of the bed
for a minute, and touched a man's pulse, as some
other physicians after twenty minutes' hitting and
fumbling.

" But you know I had pictured him a grave and
reverend signer, with white hair and majestic mien,
and, would you believe it, he wears a cut-away coat
just like mine and a blue neckerchief; moves about
as briskly as a boy, and talks as rapidly as a woman.
I like him very much, though he does not take
much notice of us students, except now and then
when he turns round and makes a joke.

" Next comes T. King Chambers, Thomas Rex,
and upon my word his godfathers and godmother
must have been clever people to fit him so
exactly with a name. Rex every inch of him in
his own estimation evidently — a good reason why
he did not get on with the prince. He comes
into the hospital looking straight before him,
passing by the group of students as if they were
so much empty space, or acknowledging their
respectful salutation by a nod, as may happen

DR SIBSON 47

to be his lordly pleasure. At times, even, he will
address an inquiry to some individual, but usually
manages to leave the impression on the mind of
the individual thus honoured, that he would have
spoken much in the same words and tones had he
been his servant or a policeman. He is slightly
short-sighted, which may to some extent account
for his way of knowing you one day and cutting
you the next, but this defect appears singularly to
accord with his natural disposition.

" He is tall, rather good-looking, slightly bald,
always well dressed, a great swell in fact in his way,
and he has the fashionable inability to fairly pro-
nounce his ' r's.' ' How vewy odd ' is an expression
often in his mouth. Well, when he gets to the wards
he maintains his character ; he is king of his cases.
After a few questions he makes his diagnosis, and
then goes through the form of an examination. To
show that this diagnosis is true, the necessary
physical signs declare themselves, the proper
symptoms appear at the bidding of leading
questions, and then His Royal Highness proceeds
to dictate the treatment as unhesitatingly as he
formed the diagnosis, and, mind you, he is not one
who deals with disease on the expectant plan ; he
handles the most powerful remedies in the most
fearless way, and, whatever the result may be, he
certainly goes shares with nature in its production.
He ought to be infallible — I hope he is. It is said
he is so well satisfied with himself that he rarely
takes the trouble to seek the aid of the researches
of others.

" And now comes Sibson. ' Well, dear Smith, I'm
glad to see you. How are all my patients ? ' And
away he bolts along the corridor to the office of the
secretary, or up the steps, by twos and threes,
towards the wards, unless some idea has got
possession of him, when he knits his brows, purses

48 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

his lips, and moves in a fitful way here and there
till he has shaken it off. He is always in a hurry ;
his sanguine temper leads him to take on himself
more work than any mortal man could get through,
and then the work in hand always occupies his mind
so fully that he forgets everything else."

In referring to these men in after years he
said : —

" I learnt much from all three physicians — most
from Dr Sibson, whose infinite capacity for taking
pains was a life-long lesson to me. To say nothing
of the time he spent in the wards, he would often
be in the post-mortem room at 6 A.M."

William Broadbent not unfrequently assisted
him on these occasions, and in the hospital lost
no opportunity of listening to clinical teaching
which, at any rate in relation to diseases of the
chest, was at that time not to be equalled in
London.

The following are notes of stories told by the
Sister of one of the wards : —

"You remember that patient Emma D. She
was Dr Sibson's patient when you were his house-
surgeon and I was night nurse. Well, every night
she used to eat my supper ; bread and cheese, or
bread and meat, or whatever it was. She would
eat nothing in the day, but at night I used to take
her my bread. I saved some for myself in the
morning. I daren't give her all the cheese, cause
I was feared it might make her ill. I used to give
her a bit and say, * There now, there's all my bread ;
you see they don't give us too much cheese.' She

WARD SISTER'S STORIES 49

always stayed awake till I came on, and then, as
soon as she had eaten my supper, she went off to
sleep as fast as possible. I remember the night
she died. I saw as soon as ever I got into the
ward, she was worse. 'You are not so well to-
night I'm sure, my dear,' I said; 'do you think
you can eat a bit of supper ? ' She wanted it, and
so I gave it her, poor thing, but she could not
manage it. She sat up in bed trying to get down
a mouthful, and then she wandered rather. She
kept on saying, ' Eat the cheese yourself, my dear ;
eat the cheese yourself, my dear ; eat — the — cheese —
yourself — my — dear — my — dear' . . . well so she
went on. I wanted to fetch you, but I daren't. I
was afraid you would find me out, and then I knew
I should catch it. When she had been at it for
about an hour, I said, ' Well it's no use, I must go
for Dr B.' And so I came down to you. Would
you believe it ? She stopped saying it, and all the
time you were with her she never said it once. I
stood by all in a shake, and when you were gone
I said, ' There, Dr B.'s been and gone ; I am thankful
for that ' ; and the minute you left she began again,
' Eat the cheese yourself, my dear ; eat the — cheese —
yourself — my dear — my dear — my dear.' And these
were the last words she said. She got on slowly, ' Eat
the cheese,' and there she stopped. She breathed
a few times after that, but only gasping. What
would Dr S. have said if he had known I gave her
my supper every night ?

" I am obliged to be very careful with Dr S.,
but do you know I have never had a word from
him since last summer, nearly nine months, and
then I had it all round the ward.

" Ever since then I have minded what I am
about with Dr S.'s cases. When they ask me for
anything I say, ' Ah ! you are Dr S.'s patient, I
cannot give you anything unless it's ordered.'

50 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

Sometimes when I see them suffering I must do
something for them, but I always take good care
to put it down. I run after the house-surgeon to
every part of the house, and then perhaps I do not
find him, and so I give what I know will do them
good myself; but then I can never rest till I have
seen the house-surgeon, for fear Dr S. should come
in and find me out before I have it put on the card.

" The other day a patient of Dr S. was very bad.
She would eat nothing, and was dying as fast as
she could. One night I said to her, ' Don't you
think, now, you could take a little arrowroot and
brandy if you had it ? ' She waited a little bit, and
then she said, ' I think perhaps I could, Sister.'
'So you shall, then,' I said, and I got it ready
directly, and she drank it all. I took good care to
get Mr R., who was Dr S.'s house-surgeon, to sign
for it, and it was very well I did. When Dr S.
came to see her, he looked at her in the smiling
way he has when a troublesome patient is beginning
to mend. 'Well, Mrs H., I am glad to find you so
much better to-day.' 'Yes, sir,' she said, 'but it
isn't your physic ; it was that arrowroot and brandy
Sister gave me.' You should have seen him. He
took the card, and began to look if it was ordered ;
but he was too angry to see whether it was or not.
He was just going to begin, but I saw what was
up, and so I just said, 'It is on the other side, sir,'
and stopped him. ' Oh, Mr R. has ordered it. Very
good, very good. You shall have some every night,
my good woman, and I hope you will soon be quite
well.'

" There is such a difference between the doctors.
Dr Alderson will let his patients have anything
they ask for, and he never grumbles, whatever we
do for them. The other day, that poor girl of
his in consumption — he was asking her what she
fancied to eat She answered, ' Nothing, sir, but

WARD SISTER'S STORIES 51

a cold bone and a lettuce.' ' Has she had it,
Sister?' he says, turning round to me. 'Yes, sir,'
I said. ' That's right, Sister. Take care of her.'
She had had it every day for a week. Dr A. is
such a kind gentleman, and I am sure many a
patient's life is saved by letting them have their
fancies. When there is anyone very ill and she
has 3 great wish for anything, I always try to get
it unless it is something very bad. You remember
Smith, that girl that had the fever so bad when you
and Mr F. were house-surgeons. She was your
case, and under Dr Sibson. Just when she was at
the worst, I was having half a pound of sausages to
my supper. I had been out in the afternoon, and
bought them for a treat for myself, and when I had
got my women all settled for the night, I went
behind the screen and began to cook my sausages.
I held them to the fire on a toasting-fork one by
one, so as to disturb no one, but when I had just
done one I heard somebody, ' Sister, Sister.' I
knew the voice ; it was Smith ; she was so weak
that she could hardly speak. I went up >to
her. ' Well, my dear, what is it ? ' 'I should
so like a bit of sausage,' she said. ' Sausage,'
I said, ' who ever heard of such a thing ? ' 'I
know you have some,' she said, ' I smell the
cooking, do give me a little bit. I am sure it
will do me no harm.' She begged and prayed so
hard, I was obliged to give her some ; and would
you believe it, she ate half of my half-pound of
sausages. The best of it is, she got well straight
away after it, and she has been strong and hearty
ever since.

" I never like to say to a patient, ' Don't tell,'
because if you teach them to cheat others, it's likely
enough they'll cheat you. I did to poor Smith,
though, and I don't think anyone but yourself
knows from that day to this."

52 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

The office of resident obstetric physician, which
William Broadbent was holding, was for six months
only, and his next step was a subject for anxious
thought.

Various posts were offered to him ; an appoint-
ment as surgeon to the Danube Railway in Turkey
at £300 a year ; that of medical attendant to an
old insane gentleman at a salary of a guinea a day.

Both offers were declined, and it is evident that
he had thrown himself with his whole heart into the
work at the hospital.

To his Brother B.

Feb. 1859.

" You will have learnt that I had come to the
same conclusion with respect to this offer as you
had. The inactive life would not have suited me,
and I should have been doing no good to anyone,
just rusting away. I cannot do much studying
here. There are so many interruptions and dis-
tractions, and living in a hospital makes one feel a
disinclination to hard work, it is so very depressing.
I am, however, learning a great deal practically,
and I think making original observations. I have
a paper written out, but I hesitate about sending it
to the Medical Journal : first, because I have not
read all the works on clinical midwifery, and again,
because the proper place would be the Obstetrical
Society, and I have a case to communicate to that
Society for Dr Tyler Smith. I contemplate, too, a
paper of my own on a more important subject, and
it will not do to be always before the Society.

" I am setting myself to the improvement of my
department. It has been rather neglected. I am

CHILDREN'S DEPARTMENT 53

sure it is one of the most useful departments of the
hospital, in which most good is done at least
expense, and I want to extend its benefits."

March.

"There is one department I am pushing
especially, i.e., the seeing of children every morning.
They are brought without recommendation, and
are under my treatment altogether. The number
has greatly increased since I came. I only fear
they may be taken from me, as there is at present a
great jealousy of the resident medical officer on
the part of the Governors. However, I have good
grounds for a stand, and I shall be able to show
them that they cannot interfere with me without
doing great harm."

"jth March 1859.

"As to my future and that of all of us, we must
leave it entirely in the hands of our heavenly
Father. I feel utterly unable to choose for myself.
London offers great attractions to me with my
position and tastes. I feel myself better fitted for
practice here than in a provincial town, where I
should be alone in my profession, for I should look
in vain for anyone with whom I could act, and, in
discussion of different points of medical practice,
' Iron sharpeneth iron ' wonderfully."

As the period for which his appointment was
made drew to a close, he grew more and more
anxious ; but in spite of the difficulties at home and
the certainty, which he fully realised, that it would
be many years before he could hope to support
himself in London, he felt the attractions of the life,
with its opportunities of congenial work, and his

54 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

father and mother were prepared to make any
sacrifices in their power to assist him.

All immediate anxiety as to his future was,
however, set at rest by an unexpected offer of the
Hospital Board to extend his appointment to
twelve months, so that it was not until the autumn
that it again became a pressing question.

He was gradually settling down into the ways
of London life, and beginning to make friends. He
became a member of the Obstetrical Society,
and registered as a medical practitioner under the
new Act, keenly on the watch for any professional
opening which might present itself, while in the
meantime working hard at the hospital.

In October a totally unforeseen occurrence led
to his term there being extended for another six
months. Mr A., the resident medical officer,
having left very abruptly, the Medical Committee
appointed William Broadbent to take his place.

To Miss J.

ST MARY'S HOSPITAL, i-yd Nov. 1859.

" I have been very long in answering your last,
but when you know how hardworked I have been
you will forgive me. More than a month ago
Mr A. suddenly resigned, or rather deserted.
There was no student of the hospital to take his
place, and there was nothing but the humiliating
expedient of advertising to which to resort for his
successor. This post was one which would suit me
extremely well, provided I were not compelled to
pledge myself to remain in it longer than I wished,

RESIDENT MEDICAL OFFICER 55

so at the last moment I offered my services under
certain conditions. All the staff and the Board of
Governors were delighted, so I obtained what I
very much desired on my own terms, and at the
same time obtained the credit of relieving the
hospital from a disagreeable fix. But a successor
had to be provided for my old post. His appoint-
ment was a work of three weeks, and during that
time I had on my hands the duties of both. I was
nearly knocked up before it was over. My successor
is my old friend Lawrence, and I have left the
women's and children's department to become
resident medical officer and apothecary. N.B, —
Apothecary does not imply that I have anything to
do with dispensing, but that I have charge of the
medical department. The conditions under which
I took the appointment were that I should be
formally appointed till 2ist May 1860; but my
appointment may be continued longer, or I have
permission to resign sooner if I wish it. I get on
very well with my new work, and love it.

"After the special practice in the diseases of
women and children, this more general work will be
of great use. I want particularly to study diseases
of the chest, and to compare the results of the
various methods of treatment."

ToB.

6tk Dec. 1859.

" I shall be very glad to get home once again
for a few days, for I am rather knocked up. Indoor
work tells on me sooner than when exercise is part
of the work. Night after night I have been in the
wards till after ten, and frequently I have to make
visits into one or other, and remain twenty minutes
or half an hour after midnight."

56 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

The short Christmas holiday was spent at
home, and on his return to London, he applied
for the post of Registrar at St Mary's Hospital,
which seemed to him, in its influence on his future,
the most important office which he had tried to
obtain.

The weekly Board, which was the real electing
body, was in his favour, and he was supported in
his candidature by Drs Alderson and Chambers ;
but Dr Sibson and Mr Spencer Smith wished to
exclude him altogether, and when Dr Murchison
withdrew his application for the post, they went
so far as to invite another man to take his place.
They found, however, at a very full meeting, that
they were alone against all the rest of the Medical
Committee, and finally had to give way.

He succeeded in obtaining the registrarship,
and this seemed to make it clear that he should
remain in London ; but as the time approached for
the long-delayed decisive step to be taken, he was
often greatly disheartened at the prospect before
him.

ToS.

•znd Jan. 1860.

"It would never do for me to come home often.
You do not know what longings a visit home sets
up in my heart. Not only do I always receive
good to my soul, but it rouses all my domestic
instincts, which are very strong. I feel a sort of
dissatisfaction at being deprived of those ties and
relationships which constitute my highest earthly

REGISTRAR 57

happiness. I have a sensation of something missing,
which is only gradually and slowly quelled by hard
work. Mere worldly success would not tempt me
to make the sacrifice I shall have to do if I pursue
the path which seems to lie before me now. But
then I have undoubtedly been placed in my present
position by Providence. It is the hand of God
which seems to be preparing my way, and which
at this critical period of my life seems to point it
out with especial clearness. I shrink from the
difficulties which are before me, but it would be
cowardly and wrong to be daunted by them. All
I can do is to put my trust in God and go
forward."

His next step was to try to get admitted a
member of the Royal College of Physicians under
the old rules, in which he was unsuccessful, as
he writes : —

To M. /.

Feb. 1860.

" I have not been admitted member of the
College of Physicians without examination and at
the reduced fee of £10, so I shall have to wait,
undergo an examination, and pay ,£30. The delay
and the money are what I care about, though I
shall have the advantage of making myself better
known to the Censors, and of holding myself more
at liberty during the next few months than if I
were already a member of the College of Physicians.
I do not know the exact reason why I was not
admitted in the year of Grace, as it has been called.
I suppose it was partly my age, or rather my
youth, as I was only a few days over 25, the
lowest age of admission, and partly the fact that
I have some surgical duties at St Mary's."

58 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

His time as resident medical officer at St
Mary's expired on the 2ist of May, and he had
been most anxious before he left the hospital to
have it settled where he was to live, and had spent
hours in looking at houses or rooms that might be
suitable.

But in spite of all his efforts he had failed to
secure rooms, and this, together with an offer
which came to him at this particular juncture, made
it seem as if his intention of settling in London
were after all to be frustrated.

To MissJ.

22 LONDON STREET,
PADDINGTON, zistjune 1860.

"It is true I left the hospital on the 22nd of
May, and since then I have been home for a short
time, not, however, to return in better health and
spirits, but to get one soaking after another till I
was regularly ill.

" Since my return to town I have had a very
busy and agitated time of it. I have not been
successful in finding a suitable residence yet, and I
am losing valuable time on this account — then I
am trying for the curatorship of the school here and
I think I shall obtain it. I am already registrar at
the hospital, and that decided me to begin practice
in London as a physician. But the most agitating
matter of all has been an offer of the post of Vice-
Consul at Japan, which was made when I was at
home, but not communicated to me till four days
after my return. I did not want to go, but I should
have felt it my duty to accept the post ; but fortu-
nately during the delay while I was out of town,

WALTER COULSON 59

and while I waited an answer from home on the
subject, it was offered to another gentleman. It
was a great relief to hear this, for though the
salary was good and the opportunities of distinction
great, I did not like the idea of leaving England
for so long a time as would have been necessary.
I only entertained the idea at all because of the vast
opportunities for usefulness which would have been
open to me."

The next important step in his career was his
application for the office of curator at St Mary's
Hospital, and again he had to meet determined
opposition on the part of some members of the
staff, although, again, the weekly Board was in
his favour.

Mr Walter Coulson, who had been holding
the post, was one of his closest friends, and
through all the early days of his life in London
was of the greatest assistance to him, obtaining
for him an introduction to his uncle, who had a
large practice in the city, and supporting him in
every way at the hospital.

Speaking of him many years later, he said : —

" First in my recollection stands Walter Coulson,
resident medical officer and then curator and
pathologist. He had the reputation of being
rather wild, and I was disposed to avoid him, but
there was no resisting his frank, genial nature and
fascinating personality. He was the most intimate
friend I ever had ; to no one do I owe so much.
Nothing about him was small — great faults, still
greater redeeming virtues, brilliant qualities, and
the kindest of hearts."

60 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

He obtained the appointment, entering upon his
work at the end of June 1860, and it was finally
decided that he should begin practice in London ;
but for many weeks he had one disappointment
after another in his efforts to find suitable rooms,
and he was at last compelled to take a house, 23
Upper Seymour Street (afterwards altered to 44
Seymour Street), where he lived for the next twelve
years, his eldest sister coming up to town to be
with him.

He was now reading for the examination for
the membership of the College of Physicians as
well as for the M.D. of the London University, and
this, together with the work involved in fulfilling
the duties of his appointments at St Mary's
Hospital, and in coaching, gave little time for
letter-writing. He was also beginning to get some
practice, principally in midwifery cases, and to make
a little money by giving chloroform for Mr Coulson
and by taking pupils, of whom he mentions two.
These sources of income, added to his scholar-
ship and to the ^50 a year which he received as
curator, made him less dependent on help from
home.

His life was a strenuous one, and he appears
even then to have been as indifferent to regular
hours for food and sleep as he certainly was in later
years. He was not fond of early rising when in
London, and often complains of the difficulty of
getting up in the mornings ; but on two days in the
week for five or six years he was at the Old Jewry

UPPER SEYMOUR STREET 61

by 6.30 o'clock, sometimes dining with Mr Coulson
and sleeping at his house the night before, but more
frequently going in the early morning, either by bus
or walking the whole way, in order to attend a sort
of out-patient department for working men, held
from 6.30 to 8 A.M., which had been started by old
Mr Coulson in connection with his hospital.

When Dr Broad bent first came to London he
for a time attended a Methodist chapel, but he
found the Church of England service more con-
genial, and not long after he settled in Seymour
Street he definitely joined the congregation of
Quebec Chapel. The Rev. Francis Holland (after-
wards Canon of Canterbury), who became a life-
long friend, was the incumbent, and many references
to his sermons and to the influence which he
exercised occur in the letters written home.

To Miss J.

23 UPPER SEYMOUR STREET, W.,
igth Sept. 1860.

" At last I am settled in a house of which I am
supposed to be master, and of which I am expected
to pay the rent. I have to solve the problem of
meeting an expenditure of .£300 or ^400 a year out
of very unsubstantial expectations.

" My chances of making money are curtailed by
the tremendous demands made on my time by the
offices of curator and registrar at St Mary's, and
by my ambitious step of going in at once for pure
practice, so that altogether I am in a state of
glorious uncertainty. Seriously speaking, I have
taken a bold step, and I look forward with consider-

62 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

able anxiety to the results of it. I took rooms in
this house in the first instance, found that the house
suited my purposes and that the people did not, so
I bought the furniture, took the house, and have
installed my sister Mary Jane as housekeeper pro
tern. Do not suppose that when I say pro tern. I
have another housekeeper in view — if I had I should
soon tell you. Without presumption I may say
that my prospects are ultimately good, but the first
few years will be very trying, and my father cannot
afford to supply me with money ad lib. He is
building another mill, which will require all he can
spare just at the time when I may need it. How-
ever, I have everything to encourage me — a larger
measure of present success than I could have
expected, and good friends. I have plenty of work
in my offices and that occupies my mind. I am
also taking the work of one of the physicians to the
Brompton Consumption Hospital.

" I am seeing more of the world, becoming more
mixed up with it, getting more knocked about in
it, entering more into the excitement of making
way in it, but I do not forget our quiet chats — our
friendly, open-hearted talk, and I sigh for them
again."

He passed the examination for the degree of
M.D. at the University of London in 1860, and
also became a member of the Royal College of
Physicians.

CHAPTER IV

FAMILY TIES

His Interest in Longwood. Butterworth Broadbent. Lecturer on
" Comparative Anatomy and Physiology." Fever Hospital.
Early Struggles. Offered a Professorship at Melbourne. His
Engagement to Eliza Harpin. Canvasses for Appointment to
Western General Dispensary. Marriage. Sister's Illness. Her
Death.

IT may seem unnecessary, now that he was fairly
launched in London, and had practically decided to
make it the sphere of his work, to refer again to
the old home at Longwood, or to the other members
of the family ; but his life for many years was still
so closely interwoven with that of his brothers and
sisters, especially as regards the two eldest, and he
continued at all times to take such a constant
interest in the welfare of his native village, that it
would be impossible to give a true view of his
character without some further reference to the
conditions which influenced its development.

There must, too, be many homes in England
where the family ties are as close, and where the
obligations of relationship and neighbourhood are
still felt to be binding ; and in these days of restless
energy and often superficial display of feeling, it
may, perhaps, not be out of place to unfold in some

63

64 FAMILY TIES

detail another view of life, where stress is laid on
the deepening of the channels of the affections
and on the mutual benefits to be derived from the
loyal acceptance of duties in connection with those
related by blood or birthplace, even though it
should occasionally seem that the sacrifice of time
and strength involved is a heavy one.

William Broadbent considered that he owed
much to his parents, and the consciousness of the
interdependence of human lives, seldom expressed
aloud, occurs in letters throughout his life.

He writes : —

" Father was one of the best of men, and I dwell
on his memory with reverence, love, and pride. It
is to the unexpended blessing carried on from him
and mother to the third and fourth generation, that
I owe and attribute my own good fortune and the
good qualities which I see in my children."

And again : —

"You divine exactly the thoughts which have
been uppermost in my mind since the death of my
dear and good old father — especially the desire to
hand down to my children the inestimable blessings
I have inherited from God-fearing and God-serving
parents. I have always felt that a shield of un-
ceasing prayer was over me while my father and
mother lived, and that my path in life has been
opened out by their faith."

And during his last illness he wrote to his youngest
brother, who still remained in the old home : —

"The reflection which gives me the greatest
satisfaction is that we have carried on the family

BUTTERWORTH BROADBENT 65

tradition of usefulness in our day and generation —
you, in particular, have borne the burden and heat
of the day, and have, by your self-denying exertions
and single-minded devotion to the family, been the
foundation on which our power and influence for
good have been built."

Butterworth, the second son, nearest to William
in age, was his constant companion in boyhood,
and his intimate friend as they grew up to manhood.
He was naturally full of life and spirits : his broad
forehead, from which the curly hair fell back in
waves, and his open face, with its singularly bright
smile, were indications of a disposition and character
which attracted all who came in contact with him.

He left school early to help his father in the
business, thus setting William free to pursue his
medical studies, and he threw himself heart and
soul into the work, taking a keen interest in its
prosperity, not so much for his own sake — although
his livelihood depended upon it — as because by its
success or failure must be decided the future pros-
pects of his brothers.

In later years, after passing through a period
of anxiety and stress due to continued bad trade,
he writes : —

" For myself I thank God and take courage.
Having food and raiment and a reasonable prospect
of a continuance thereof, I am quite content. I
accept my mission ; it is to take the management of
our family financial concerns, and the best recom-
pense I can have will be to see our family rise and
prosper — secondary of course to the highest of all

E

66 FAMILY TIES

rewards, the approval of God and the conscious
sense of duty discharged to the best of my ability."

William took his part in the life of the family,
and by the opportunities which he gave to his
younger brothers and sisters, showed his apprecia-
tion of, and, perhaps, to some extent repaid, the
sacrifices which his father had made for him.

His house, as soon as he had one, was always
open to them, and he was ever ready to urge that
they should make use of it, never considering his
own convenience, or hesitating to incur any trouble
or expense if it was in his power to help them.

For Butterworth he could at this time do nothing
beyond sharing the anxiety which the burden of the
family affairs laid upon him ; but Leila, the youngest
sister, came to London to attend school under the
care of the eldest one, who was still acting as his
housekeeper, and his letters to the sister at home
and to a younger brother show the interest which
he took in their work.

To his Sister S.

12th Feb. 1862.

" I have been very much interested by your two
last letters, and I cannot imagine that anyone can
have a word to say against your studying Latin
and Greek when the desire to do so is so strong,
and taking care, as I know you will, that the study
does not interfere with your practical duties.

"As to the question of their probable usefulness
to you, they will be as useful to you as to nine out
of ten that ever learn these languages — much more

LETTERS ON WORKING 67

useful in all probability, since you take up the
study from pure love of it. It will improve your
mind in many ways. Even if you never get so far
as to have the treasures of ancient literature opened
to you, the very elements of the grammar will give
you new ideas. It is almost impossible to under-
stand the structure of our own language without
comparison with that of others.

" I often wish I had been able to follow out
classical studies more fully. Boys are very ready
to say, ' What is the use of learning Latin and
Greek ? ' but I am sure that it is real education to
be well grounded in the classics, and I can see and
feel now how I should have enjoyed a course at
Oxford."

To his Brother J. E.

" I was glad to hear from you, and especially
that you are likely to get to work. I know it would
not suit me to have any time on my hands, and
there is enough of a family likeness in our minds to
make me fear its effects on you. One retrogrades
terribly when in a state of idleness, and, having
enjoyed the sweets of self-indulgence, it is very
difficult to nerve up the mind for an effort. You
should never let slip the habit of work."

To J. E.

" I hope you are attending to my recommenda-
tion about chewing the cud — it will improve your
mental digestion wonderfully. Man is not naturally
a ruminant animal, and you must expect to find it
an effort at first, but I have my own experience to
back me in saying that it pays."

68 FAMILY TIES

A letter to Miss Jackson gives an account of his
work and circumstances : —

To Miss J.

23 UPPER SEYMOUR ST. W.,
17 ih July 1 86 1.

" My life is a busy one now, rather an anxious
one too. ... I have worked hard this spring and
summer. My appointment to the lectureship on
comparative anatomy was made only a few weeks
before the opening of the session, and, as I was just
at the time trying for the Fever Hospital, I had no
time to prepare my lectures beforehand, and I have
had to do it day by day. I have recently been
appointed lecturer on physiology, so that all the
recess will be fully employed in getting ready for
the winter session. I was fortunate in succeeding
at the Fever Hospital, and the position is all the
more valuable from having been resigned by Dr
Jenner on his appointment as Her Majesty's
physician.

" My success is embittered, however, by the ill-
ness of my sister who was with me. She is in
consumption. Up till Christmas she improved in
health and strength in London. At home she took
cold, and she was not well when she joined me about
the end of January. She did not improve, and at
length I examined her chest and found that already
disease had made great progress — you may imagine
the shock this was to me, and the distress it has
caused in our family.

" This life in London spoils one for any other part
of the world. If I left it I feel as if I should like to
wander all over the world without any fixed abode
— not that I wish to leave it, or that I am dis-
satisfied, but there is so much excitement, so much

HOME ANXIETIES 69

change, that only constant reckless wandering would
supply its place. I sometimes wish I were married
and done for, especially since my sister left me. I
cannot bear to have to manage servants, or to have
anything to do with making the arrangements for
the house, and I see and feel the difference made by
my sister's absence, though my housekeeper is one
of the best servants I ever knew, and my little
sister of 12, who came to live with us and to
go to school, has remained till now and has
really been a wonderful help. My brother of 16
and a cousin of the same age are now here for
their matriculation examination, and have both
passed. They all leave on Monday, and then I
shall be quite alone."

As the summer advanced there were some signs
of improvement in his sister's health, but another
member of the family became ill, and in August
William was sent for to see his brother Benjamin,
who was suffering excruciating pain from inflam-
mation of the knee-joint.

Troubles seemed to accumulate, for the anxiety
involved in the building of the new mill had been
greater even than had been anticipated, trade was
dislocated, owing to the civil war in America, and
for Butterworth the position was made more trying
by the fact that he was engaged to be married,
and had been looking forward to the possi-
bility of buying a house and settling in it very
shortly.

Quarter after quarter reports " a sad letting
down to the prosperity of the mill." "Only half
the machinery running, and that only four days a

70 FAMILY TIES

week." " Money very scarce ; things wearing a
dreary aspect." And in the midst of these dis-
couraging circumstances came a breakdown of the
engine.

William writes to his brother, who was in
Hull :-

To B.

7.\st Sept. 1 86 1.

" I daresay you will to-day have received the
same distressing intelligence as I have, that of the
smash at the mill. I feel how the accident will
affect your prospects and dislocate your plans, and
bad as it seems to me, I know the blow will come
with tenfold force on you. It is hard to see the
fruits of months and years of toil and anxious
thought swept away in a moment, to see your
happiness deferred and your hopes frustrated. I
know it will distress and discourage you, but do not
give way. It is in such times as these, when
calamity and distress come suddenly upon us, that
Christianity and manhood are put to the test.
' Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.'
Let this be your watchword, and may God enable
you to rise above misfortune and trial. I shall
stand out for your marriage in October. I know
your first thought will be that that hope is gone.
If I live and am permitted to come home at Christ-
mas, I will try and have it a settled thing. You
are the stay of the family, and it is only right that
you should have the happiness which God has
placed within your reach, and the support which
only a true-hearted wife can give. May God aid
us all."

William threw himself into work, his usual

BAD TIMES 71

antidote to worry, and writes to his brother's
future wife : —

To Julia

Oct. 1861.

" I had to begin my course of lectures yesterday
morning, and as I was anxious to give rather an
ambitious introduction, I have allowed it to give
me more trouble perhaps than the result was worth.
However, I got through with it, and to-day have
given my second. Already I am getting into my
subject, and am beginning to feel quite at home in
the work.

" Yesterday I had an examination of the
students. Some of them answered very well, but
it is amazing to see what stuff the majority write —
such abominable English and such utter confusion."

In the meantime he was not doing well in his
own practice, and through all the succeeding months
the struggle was a hard and very discouraging one.

To B.

Oct. 1 86 r.

" I have had very bad times, and more than
once have been on the point of having to send
home for money. For a day and a half I think I
had only 3d. or 4d., and did not know when or how
I was to get more.

" Before the turn I had never had such a
prolonged bad season. A midwifery case of £10,
i os. set me on my legs just as I was on the point
of yielding and sending home."

72 FAMILY TIES

He notes the illness of Prince Albert and his
death in December, but for himself the next twelve
months were uneventful, and he pursued the even
tenor of his way, working hard at the hospital
and gaining ground a little in his practice.

Still the struggle was so incessant that the offer
of an appointment at Melbourne came as a great
temptation.

ToB.

June 1862.

"A professor of anatomy and physiology is
wanted at the Melbourne University in Australia,
and ;£iooo a year and house are the terms offered.
What do you say to my going in for it ? It would
be pleasant to pour in ^"500 a year instead of
withdrawing constantly, to say nothing of the
freedom from anxiety. The great objection is
Mary J.'s illness."

Eventually the idea was given up.

He was making friends in London, and the
names of many whose attachment to him continued
to the end of their lives, begin to appear in his
letters. Reading was his principal recreation, and
he could at all times find relief from fatigue or
worry in a book.

After a Christmas spent at home he writes : —

To Julia

list Dec. 1 86 1.

"My chains gall me a little when I first put
them on, and I cannot help looking forward, back-

MARRIAGE OF BROTHER 73

ward, to this side or the other, to see if there is not
something in store for me better than this never-
ceasing round of work. I used to think so — and
the thought comes back with every visit home,
but after a while the harness fits itself to me again,
and it is jostled out of my head by competitors
nearer and more pressing. After all I enjoy life,
after a fashion, very much. One side of my nature
is satisfied, and that is more than most people
can say.

" I cannot really enjoy New Year's Day except
amid associations which cling round the heart itself.
I might go out and spend a very pleasant day, or
evening, but it would be very unsatisfactory, it
would be like offering acid drops to a man dying
of thirst. This, I trust, is to be the happy New
Year for you, and, as I said, I am prepared to be
very jubilant."

Butterworth had been engaged for about three
years to Julia, a daughter of John Harpin, of Birks
House, Holmfirth, a small town seven miles from
Longwood, and he had hoped to be married in the
summer of 1862 ; but the depression of trade was
worse than ever, and the new mill was still making
large demands on his father's resources, so that
there were many alternations of hope and fear before
the time was finally fixed for December.

The wedding took place on the loth, and on
William's return to London he wrote to his father
and mother expressing his wish to become engaged
to Julia Harpin's sister, Eliza, and asking their
consent and approval. It was no sudden thought,
but he had waited to give expression to it till his
younger brother was married.

74 FAMILY TIES

His father replied on igth December 1862 : —

" I have not had time to write since yours
arrived till to-day. I can only say that my fixed
principle has been that I would neither choose a
life occupation nor life partner for my children. I
would advise but not dictate. . . . But every
avoidable expense at present ought to be prevented,
as the expenses incurred by Butterworth will place
us for the coming year in much the same position
as we were last, and it is absolutely necessary that
we should have our pecuniary affairs in an altered
position. Don't misunderstand me ; with our habits
of economy I have no fear for the future, if spared
myself for a few years longer ; but my affairs ought
to assume a very altered position before I am called
from the stage of action. There are unavoidable
expenses before us ; if all take their part and you
are tolerably successful, we may do very well. I
can say that no personal sacrifice has been too
great on the part of mother and myself for the
welfare of our family, and we shall no doubt
continue. . . .

" When you come home we must talk the
matter over, and should you feel desirous, and
Eliza and you resolve to be united, I will endeavour
to furnish the means."

William wrote in the meantime : —
To his Mother

I8//& Dec. 1862.

" I was sure I should give you great anxiety. I
had gone through a good deal before I wrote.
When I came home, and even when I left, I had
no idea that I should write as I did, and when I
did.

LETTER TO HIS MOTHER 75

" I have been so much in the habit of dismissing
marriage from my thoughts, or, I am sorry to say,
thinking of it as a means to secure success, that I
really did not know the hold E. had on my
affections. Of course, whenever I have been home
and have seen her, I have come back unsettled and
unhappy, and, if at any time a match which might
have been satisfactory in a worldly point of view
has suggested itself to me, the thought of E. has
interfered. Many and many a time, especially when
my better feelings have been moved and I have felt
there was something else to do in the world besides
gaining fortune and fame, I have felt that with her
obscurity and poverty would be better than anything
the world could give. Many and many a time have
I gone over the old process of putting down my
feelings, beginning by considering my duty to father
and the younger children, finishing up in hours, or
days, or weeks, perhaps, by finding ambition for
worldly success predominating over everything.

"I do not think I had any prior right over
Butterworth, and had I thought so, he had been
engaged so long that I could not have used it.
Butterworth had claims over me from having
remained in the business and from not having been
such an expense. ... I have every confidence that
he will work hard and unselfishly for the good of
the younger members of the family.

" I have lived ages in the last few days ; my
self-restraint once broken down, I have thought of
nothing else.

" I see all the difficulties you can see. I know
it would be a great responsibility, and, if Providence
be put out of the question, a great risk. It would
be folly in me to say / would run the risk, because
I bring it on the heads of others more than incur it
myself. It is only the conviction that all will be
over-ruled for good, and that it is not merely

76 FAMILY TIES

happiness here which is concerned that induces me
still, when calmer and cooler, to say I believe it
would be for the best.

" But I would rather that you and father would
tell me just what you feel."

Butterworth and his wife were to return from
the Isle of Wight, where their honeymoon had
been spent, on Christmas Eve, and William was
to come on with them from London, which
he owas the more anxious to do, as Eliza Harpin
was staying at Longwood to meet them. He
was, however, detained in London by a patient, and
he writes : —

To his Sister

Dec. 1862.

" How true it is, thomme propose, Dieu dispose.
I thought to have spent this evening in happy talk
at home, to take my part in the glorious Christmas
hymn ; to hear once more the scraping of feet and
the muffled voices, and start up in my comfortable
bed with the exclamation ' The Singers ' ; to listen
to the old familiar strains, which somehow seem
never to lose their freshness, and to catch them
again coming more faintly, and perhaps more
sweetly, through the cold night air from a distance.
Well, one more disappointment ; another day or two
of feverish anxiety and restlessness. I hope not
more, for I expect to get away to-morrow or
Sunday. My patient is decidedly better, but
nothing must tempt me away from the call of
duty."

BECOMES ENGAGED 77

To Miss J.

23 UPPER SEYMOUR STREET,
$ist Dec. 1862.

" I only got home by the last train on Christmas
day, and I returned by the night train on Monday.
It has been an unfortunate absence, in that I have
missed most important cases ; most fortunate in
that I return an engaged man, happy in the affection
of the best and truest-hearted girl in the world —
Eliza Harpin, sister of my brother's wife. It has
been a mutual thing for the last two years or more.
I could not make known my love till I saw some
prospect of being able to marry, and would not even
let her or anyone else suspect its existence, and she,
poor child, has been all this time cherishing an
affection she believed to be hopeless, refusing offer
after offer, and silently resolved to a life of perpetual
maidenhood. I trust next Christmas will find her
already well settled in her new position as my wife."

The months before his marriage were sufficiently
harassing ones, and only the strength of will and
tenacity of purpose which characterised him enabled
him to face the difficulties and triumph over the
obstacles which lay in his path. His belief in his
own powers, provided that he had health, was strong,
and it was shared by others, who gave him help
and encouragement, although his mother, as was
perhaps natural enough, grew anxious and perplexed
about his future.

He had at this time one or two students living
in the house, and through all the earlier years of
his married life he was obliged to continue this

78 FAMILY TIES

arrangement, as he could not otherwise have met
his household expenses.

In May 1863, he tried for an appointment as
physician to the Western General Dispensary.

The elections for almost every appointment in
those days were decided by the votes of the sub-
scribers or governors of an institution, and they
involved not only the sending out of printed testi-
monials to a large number of people, but personal
canvassing by the candidate or his friends, which
was extremely distasteful to men of any refinement
of character.

He notes in his diary : —

" On Thursday tried canvassing in afternoon ;
wrong time for ladies — result discouraging. I was
very much disgusted and depressed.

" Better success attended efforts in St John's
Wood ; but I was extremely depressed, and only
continued working, and that languidly, from sense
of duty to father, as I had spent so much money
already."

Finally he notes : —

"This election has taught me: (i) To be
prompt, especially with ladies, who vote for first
comers mostly ; (2) Canvassing is expected ; on
the whole one may anticipate gentlemanly treatment ;
(3) Ladies to be seen before 2 P.M., (4) Gentle-
men before 10 A.M."

He was appointed physician to the Western
General Dispensary on ist June, obtaining 272 votes
against 231, 134, 96, and 76 given to his opponents.

MARRIAGE 79

He writes : —

" I obtained the appointment which has cost me
so much trouble and anxiety, and had a very large
majority. I had not the remotest idea it would be
so large, and I might have spared myself much
trouble."

William Broadbent was married on the 5th of
August 1863, at St John's Church, Holmfirth, the
wedding party, as on the occasion of his brother's
marriage, consisting only of members of the two
families now doubly united.

The honeymoon was spent in Paris and
Switzerland, and on their return home, William
and his wife persuaded his sister, Mary Jane, who
had been losing ground for several months, to come
to London, and she remained with them till
December, when they all returned to Longwood
for Christmas.

It was the last which found them a complete
family circle, and it was a happiness to them all to
recognise that the marriage of the two eldest sons
had in no way interfered with the family unity ;
while Butterworth's baby, the first grandchild, born
at Snowlea in September, formed a new interest in
the Christmas gathering.

The sister who had become gradually worse
while in Yorkshire, where the winter months were
very trying, yielded to William's urgent entreaties
and returned to London in February, although
she felt herself that little benefit could be expected
from the visit, which was, indeed, a sad one, as the

80 FAMILY TIES

disease was now making steady progress, and
there was no further probability of arresting its
course.

There is a short description of Garibaldi on
his way to receive the freedom of the city, in a letter
to her : —

To M. J.

z^rd April 1864.

" We got a capital sight of Garibaldi on
Wednesday. Through Mr Keith we had a
window in Cheapside, from which we could watch
him from the moment he turned the corner out of
St Paul's Churchyard to near Bow Church. He
was dressed as usual, a grey cloak over a red
flannel shirt. There was a great crowd, and as
he passed, the people broke through the lines of
policemen and rushed up to the carriage determined
to shake hands with him. Very few got up to him,
however, but the street behind the carriage was
like a raging sea of heads."

Mary Jane remained in London for some months,
but after her return home she grew rapidly worse,
and, although William went to see her as often as
possible, the long journey and the claims on him
in London made it out of the question for him to
spend as much time in Yorkshire as he wished.

A little daughter was born on the 3ist of May
and called after his sister, and in July he writes : —

To S.

6th July.

" Often and often the picture of Mary J. in her
sufferings, and of you in your distress, breaks in

DEATH OF A SISTER 81

upon the occupations of my life, here far from you ;
and many a time when I am seated at the bedside
of a poor patient, my mind has flown home, and I
have remained there abstracted and lost in thoughts
of the grief which has fallen on us."

"It is one of the hardest trials to have to put
my duty to my patients here, considerations of
expense, and of my own career, against the dictates
of affection. Could I choose, I should never leave
Mary J., and my distress is aggravated by the
circumstances which keep me from her side."

The business which detained him in London
was an attempt on the part of some members of
the hospital staff and school to alter the terms of
his appointment, and it was the climax of an
opposition which had grown in intensity with every
struggle in which he had been successful.

He was, however, able to be with his sister
during the last few days of her life, and on his
return to London after her death, he writes : —

To S.

qth Aug. 1864.

" Sitting here alone I begin to feel something
of what you will feel now that the reaction after
those few terrible days is past and the excitement
and work of the funeral is over, and the house is
being emptied of us all. A sense of our great
loss came over me as home receded yesterday.
One object of great love and of constant thought
gone for ever, so far as this world is concerned —

F

82 FAMILY TIES

home no longer quite the same — the family circle
no' longer complete. There seems to be a great
blank in everything."

Aug.

" I can quite understand your feelings. In
some degree I have had them myself and still
have them. My evenings at Maidenhead, by
compressing my work into a few hours, and by
providing me with healthful occupation and cheerful
society, have prevented the sense of desolation
coming upon me in all its force, but I have always
the feeling as of a great void in my heart and a
great blank in the world. When I have a little
leisure I cannot take to real work. I have no
heart for it.

" Time is sometimes called the great healer,
but wounds such as ours would be long in yielding,
were it not that we look higher, to no mere
passive agent, but to Him who so richly poured in
the oil and wine of His grace at first, who robbed
death of his sting, so far as our darling sister was
concerned ; yes, and for us too, for no pain but
only sorrow has been left by his visit to our
family."

CHAPTER V
1864

Continued difficulties ; his views regarding his career. His brother
Benjamin. Appointed on the staff of St Mary's. Contributions
to the Transactions of Medical Societies. Study of the Brain
and Nervous System. " Broadbent's Hypothesis." Treatment
of Cancer. British Medical Benevolent Fund. Ruskin's Ethics
of the Dust, Riot in Hyde Park (24th July 1866). Birth and
Death of Child.

WHEN he returned to town after his sister's death,
he could not afford to take any regular holiday, but
his wife and child remained in Yorkshire, while he
himself spent his nights, and as much of the day as
he could spare, at Maidenhead, with his friend,
Walter Coulson, to whose kindness he owed for
many years these opportunities of getting fresh air
and exercise. He became a good oarsman and an
excellent swimmer, often bathing in the Thames or
the Serpentine throughout the winter, even when
the ice had to be broken ; and it was with this
same friend that he made his first climbing expedi-
tion to Switzerland. His father had taught him to
ride, but, excepting when staying with Mr Coulson,
he had no opportunity of indulging this taste, and
all through his life his principal recreation was

84 1864

walking, or, when he was fortunate enough to be
among the mountains, climbing, of which he was
passionately fond.

In 1864 he had still to face the problem of
making both ends meet in London and, though the
little household was managed with extreme economy,
he was obliged to ask for some help from home.

In explaining his position he writes : —

To S.

Oct. 1864.

"The usual remarks about living within one's
income do not quite apply to me. I am confessedly
expending labour and money now for a reward only
to be looked for in the future. I am not supposed
to be making my living. I do not think anyone
could be more careful or self-denying, or more
anxious to cease being a burden on father.

"If I could come down from my present
position — give up all my aspirations and take some
country practice, where I could maintain myself and
make a small provision for the future, the sacrifice
would be more than made up for by the pleasure I
should have in the freedom from anxiety and the
power to help you at home. It is by no means
certain, however, that I should have been successful
in a country practice. Many a man with a thousand
times less knowledge and skill, but more assurance
and push, would pass me in the race, where there
was no room for scientific acquirements and for the
higher qualifications which the public cannot judge
of. Many a time where my acuter observation
would detect sources of uncertainty, which in con-
science I could not altogether conceal, a rash, half-
educated man would pronounce confidently and,

VIEWS ON PRACTICE 85

right or wrong, would in the eyes of many — of
most, I may say — be deemed the better practitioner.

"Only by degrees have I gained the confidence
necessary to meet such men, and to uphold my own
views in the face of opposition from others whether
my superiors or inferiors.

"As I have repeatedly said, God has placed me
where I am. I have done some good in my time.
I hope, please God, to do more. I indulge no lofty
ambition ; I trust in God from day to day, seeking
and asking for nothing beyond the happy mean —
neither poverty nor riches, but food convenient for
me, and for grace to serve Him and do the work He
has given me to do."

Himself the first of the family to launch out
into the world, having experienced the difficulties
of turning aside from the ordinary track, conscious
of the benefits of education, and looking forward to
the wider field of action which opened before him,
he sympathised with his younger brothers in their
ambitions, and it was due to him that the third son,
John Edward, was at last allowed to follow his bent
and study for the army. He spent some time in
London with William, and passed successfully into
Woolwich, working so hard while there that he
eventually came out head of the list.

Of the fourth son, Benjamin, William writes : —

To S.

\%th Oct. 1864.

" I should be glad of anything which would
relieve father of some of this work ; else I should

86 1864

be very much against the idea of Ben's leaving
school.

" Real education is only just commencing at his
age — at no time of life is so much knowledge
obtained for the same amount of money, and in
the same time as from 14 to 17 or 18; and
besides this, I do not believe that Ben will
ultimately remain in the business. I do not say,
as I might once have said, that he has too
much talent for it, but that his talents are
not of the right kind, and that they are associ-
ated with certain qualities of mind, in the nature
of defects, which will be against his success in
business.

" I judge in a great measure from myself. I
believe Ben to be possessed of higher natural
mental endowments than myself, but associated
with those particular qualities which would have
made me more or less a failure in business, also in
a more marked degree. My impression is that he
will enter the Church.

" I should like him to continue to work at
home and to make up his mind at least to
pass the matriculation examination at the London
University. I think it would be an interesting
task for you to help him in this resolve and
study with him in some of the subjects. My idea
would be to have him up to London to one of the
schools here."

William Broadbent had now been connected
with St Mary's Hospital for six years, first as
resident medical officer, then as curator, registrar,
and lecturer on physiology, and he was naturally
looking forward to a place on the staff when the
next vacancy occurred.

VACANCY ON THE HOSPITAL STAFF 87

He writes : —

To B.

NOV. 1864.

" Most unexpectedly Dr Chambers has sent in
his resignation, and the time has come when I must
contend for my ultimate position at St Mary's. I
am thankful to say that the entire staff will support
me, even those who have often opposed me before,
and I consequently have every probability of getting
on without any very serious opposition. This of
course is a very important thing. A contest would
be very expensive, and I am very anxious to avoid
all expense. Under the most favourable circum-
stances I shall have to spend some money, and as it
is a crisis in my career I know you will not begrudge
it. Will you some time next week send me ^5. I
hope that will be all I shall want. A judicious show
of strength early may prevent opposition and thus
be a great saving. I have been literally running
about all the morning to the different members of
the staff, and I shall let no grass grow under my
feet.

"Thus far all seems favourable.

"There is one point which gives me a little
anxiety, and that is that I am not 30, and there is
a rule that all physicians must be that age. How-
ever, I think this will not apply to me."

The election did not take place till the end of
January, and the two months which intervened
were occupied with a desperate struggle to secure
the post. There was unexpected opposition on the
part especially of two of the surgeons, who, he says,
" are working against me might and main, threaten-

88 1865

ing to employ paid canvassers and swamp me in
that way, and to keep me out of the hospital
altogether, and get me out of the school."

He was, however, ultimately successful, and
took up his new work early in 1865, retaining also
his position at the Western General Dispensary, at
the express request of the directors, who had been
so good in aiding him to get into St Mary's that
he felt he could not at once resign, although the
work, added to that of the Fever Hospital, was too
heavy, and for a time he felt severely the strain of
the election.

To Dr Felce

23 UPPER SEYMOUR ST.,
9/7* March 1865.

" The last event in my life has been my election
at St Mary's. I had a tremendous contest for it.
At first all seemed to go smoothly : the entire staff
promised me support ; nearly all the general practi-
tioners in the neighbourhood gave me promises, but
I knew too well how ill I stood with one party in
the hospital, and how little I could rely on their
support if there was a possibility of keeping me out,
to relax in my exertions. A formidable opponent
was in the field as soon as I was, and it was not
long before I found that he was receiving aid and
encouragement from S. S. and Co. This was, as
you will have seen, I daresay, Dr Edward Smith,
who is F.R.S., and a very big gun just now — a man
of tremendous energy too, and determined to win.
His supporters left no stone unturned, and several
who had promised me their vote and influence
withdrew their promises and worked with them
against me. All the physicians stood by me, and

ELECTION AT ST MARY'S 89

though they did not work much, their countenance
was valuable.

"The day of election was very exciting, but
there was never much doubt as to who would win.

"The secretary said 150 would carry the day —
I polled 238, Dr. Ed. Smith 171. The result was
received with loud cheers, and I had to go through
one of those boisterous scenes of congratulation
which seem very absurd when thought of in cold
blood. I had some noted people on my side, and Mrs
Thistlethwayte was in the passage a great part of the
afternoon soliciting votes for me. The contest was
a good thing for me, only it cost a good deal more
money than I could well afford ; however this is
beginning to return through patients it has
brought me."

Of his home life at this time he writes : —
To his Brother J. E.

June 1865.

" We must bear patiently this trying lack of
this world's goods. Enforced self-denial, endured
with firmness and without murmuring or grumbling
fortifies and strengthens the mind. We may not
see it now, but it is none the less true, that all
things work together for good. I do not know
when I have been so much discouraged, or when I
have had such good reason for it. It has almost
taken all the work out of me sometimes, but I try
to face difficulties manfully and thank God my trust
in Him does not waver."

To S.

nth August 1865.

"If anything could have induced me to let Baby
remain with you, your letter would, but I really

90 1865

cannot do without her. It is a great source of
happiness to me that you have such unbounded
affection for her, and such a desire to have her with
you, but, loving her as you do, you will see what
self-denial it has required to be separated from her
so long. Seven weeks' growth of love is a precious
thing. This I have foregone, but I cannot bring
myself to any further sacrifice. We must have our
little treasure with us.

" How happy I am that Mary J. saw her and is
her godmother. Nothing is needed to keep her
memory green in my heart, but it is a satisfaction
that my child, instead of tending to dim it, will
always be one more occasion of recalling it."

A letter written after the birth of his second
child, a boy, shows the simple and laborious life
which he and his wife were content to lead : —

To his Mother

znd Dec. 1865.

" My first object will be to do my duty to the
children given me ; to train them up for God, and
next to that, to provide for them in this world's
necessaries and comforts so far as I can. E. and
myself have no need to seek happiness out of
doors. Our little ones are our all. We keep no
company, frequent no society beyond what is actually
necessary, and, for the position in which, by God's
providence I am placed, our expenses are compara-
tively small. E. works like any servant, or rather
as few servants would, and even our evenings
are fully occupied, I with my writing and books, she
with her needle."

Ever since he had been in London he had

"BROADBENTS HYPOTHESIS" 91

been making observations and publishing papers,
the titles of which indicate the direction of the
work on which he was engaged. At first they
were contributions to the Transactions of the
Obstetrical Society, but in 1861, out of seven
articles appearing in the Transactions of the Patho-
logical Society, four were concerned with investiga-
tions into the results of damage to the brain, and in
the three following years papers were written on the
same or allied subjects, thus showing that his
interest for some time had been concentrated on
the study of the brain and nervous system.

In 1907 Dr Hughlings Jackson wrote of him in
an obituary notice : —

" More than forty years ago Broadbent pub-
lished an article on the bilateral association of the
nerve nuclei to the higher centres. The value of
what he did towards the elucidation of different
problems presented by cases of aphasia is univer
sally acknowledged. I shall limit remarks to the
wide bearings of a great principle he established, to
what is known as ' Broadbent's Hypothesis.' This
principle has brought method into the analysis of
complex symptomatologies of some very different
nervous maladies.

" This basic contribution to neurology has
lasted forty years, and is still not only valuable for
the explanation of certain neural symptomatologies,
but is also fruitful in its indications for further
research in medical neurology. Moreover I think
that it, and deductions from it, will be found of
great value in the study of still larger problems
than those dealt with in the foregoing — of great
value in the investigations into the physiology of

92 1865

the organism when that physiology is considered
as especially corresponding to psychology, both
to the psychology of the sane and that of the
insane.

"I, as one of his disciples, heartily acknowledge
great indebtedness to this distinguished physician
for the help his writings have for very many years
given me in my medico-neurological studies."

The paper to which Dr Hughlings Jackson
refers was entitled "An Attempt to remove the
Difficulties attending the Application of Dr Car-
penter's Theory of the Function of the Sensorimotor
Ganglia to the Common Form of Hemiplegia " ;
and its author writes of it in December 1865 : —

" I have just finished a long medical paper which
I am to read at the Medical Society on Monday
evening, and at which I have been at work for more
than a month till after 12 every night."

And later : —

9/A December.

" I have made a little discovery which throws
considerable light on the physiology of the nervous
system.

" I read the paper at the Medical Society, but
there was not a soul present who could understand
it. It will be some time before I get much of either
credit or benefit. I am about to write another
paper, in which I shall try to keep at the level of
my audience. Those who are capable of judging
think highly of my discovery, and facts are already
turning up in support of it and on which it throws
light.

" I have other investigations which, when I have

STUDY OF CANCER 93

time and money to carry them out, will, I believe,
be of great importance. In the meantime I have
to struggle hard to gain daily bread, but this is only
what all in my circumstances have to do."

He did not, however, confine his attention to
diseases of the nervous system, and had for some
time been making a special study of cancer, having
good reason to think that he had discovered a
method of treatment by means of injections of acetic
acid, which promised to procure alleviation, if not
cure, of the disease.

At the meeting of the British Medical Associa-
tion which took place at Chester in 1866, he read a
paper on the subject, and in September he writes : —

Sept. 1866.

" I have taken my first guinea for cancer
to-day, and have been written to about another
case. It is a great responsibility starting a new
treatment in such a terrible disease. God grant
I may not disappoint the hopes it will raise, but
that I may be the means of doing real and exten-
sive good."

The method attracted so much attention and
was so well received, that in October he writes : —

i8//% Oct. 1866.

" I hope to get on without further help from
home, and I think my fortunes have, with God's
blessing, seen their lowest point.

" My treatment of cancer is bringing me fame,
and must, I should think, bring also money. On
Friday evening, at a crowded meeting of the Patho-

94 1866

logical Society, I had quite a little ovation. A
cancer which had been treated by my method, and
afterwards removed, was exhibited, and successful
cases were related by Mr Moore and Mr Power.
The applause, which is an unusual thing, was very
considerable, and when I stood up to say a few
words the silence and concentration of attention
were quite embarrassing. My feelings at the
moment were those of thankfulness and a sense of
unworthiness."

1st Nov. 1866.

" I was sure it would give you pleasure to see
that my treatment was recognised as valuable by
the profession. This must have its effect on the
public, and I am thankful to say I am already
beginning to find this."

I3//& Feb. 1867.

" Last week I had to go to C to see a

cancer case. Fee 40 guineas, which left nearly as
many pounds for my day's work. The week before
I received my first hundred guineas from Mr S.,
so that, though money melts away very fast, I
am well off just now. I have a lady from
Belgium and a lady from Yorkshire at present
under my care."

He had, however, from the beginning recognised
that the method would not be applicable to all cases,
writing in one of his letters home.

" And yet it is a responsibility which seems to
me terrible at times. I have increased confidence
in the treatment, but there will be many cases in
which it will raise hopes only to deceive. Cancer
will still remain one of the most formidable maladies
we have to cope with.

BRITISH MEDICAL BENEVOLENT FUND 95

"The method is attracting great attention in
Paris as well as here."

Later on, finding that recurrences took place
in spite of temporary improvement, realising the
difficulty of convincing the public of the need
for discrimination, and dreading the possibility of
becoming a " Cancer Specialist," he quietly dropped
the treatment, and the only other reference to it
occurs early in 1871, when he says : —

" I cannot with any confidence recommend the
injection of acetic acid, with a view to diminishing
the size of the tumour, or even to checking its
growth. It would depend so much on the nature
and seat of its growth, whether acetic acid would
make any impression on it or not, and whether it
would be of any use, even supposing it did, that I
cannot advise a trial."

Letters refer to books which he was reading, to
the Hyde Park Riots, and also to his connection
with the British Medical Benevolent Fund, which
had been founded by Dr Baron of Cheltenham in
1836. A committee was formed in London in
1851, and as Mr Newnham and Mr Toynbee, both
belonging to St Mary's Hospital, acted in succes-
sion as treasurers, it was probably due to their
influence that William Broadbent in 1864 took
up the work of Hon. Secretary, becoming Treasurer
in 1873, a post which he retained till 1900, when he
was elected President of the Fund on the death of
Sir James Paget.

96 1866

He writes : —

To a Medical Friend

Mar. 1865.

" I am glad to see your name as a subscriber to
the British Medical Benevolent Fund. Six months
ago I became Hon. Secretary, and by my work I
save to the Fund ^30 a year previously paid to a
very inefficient secretary. It gives me trouble, but
I am very happy to accept this when I see how
much distress is relieved by the charity. I wish
you would let me propose your name to the
committee as hon. local secretary. You might
collect us a little money, and induce your brother
practitioners to subscribe."

To S.

$th April 1866.

" I have not yet read Ruskin's Ethics of the
Dust, but I had heard of it, and I intend to get
hold of it as soon as I can and I will tell you what
I think of it. The question about books is a
difficult one. There can be no doubt that some
are injurious and dangerous, and the line of danger
is different for different minds and at different
stages of development of the same mind. Any-
thing which enlarges our views without perverting
them, which removes prejudice without shaking
faith, which adds to our knowledge of what is
good without presenting to our imagination evil,
can only be useful. But we must be content with
gradual advances. Climbing the hill little by little
and going round all its sides gives us a truer idea
of the country at its foot, than if we were taken up
to near the summit and then planted so that we

ETHICS OF THE DUST 97

could see only in one direction. The little garden
plot of ideas, from which we set out, may look very
small, but to know its true value is better than to
imagine that it is a royal park.

" The good old bishop of Les Mistrables and
Port Royal will do you no harm. It rejoices me to
know that so much good exists in Roman Catholi-
cism, and to believe that so many may reach heaven
through that Church, but I am not a bit nearer
being a Roman Catholic. We meet with many
things in life to shake our belief in the goodness of
man and men, of systems, of religion and professors
thereof. . . . What a blessing that we also find
good where we did not expect it, and are able to
embrace in love and charity those we thought to be
foes.

"I do not know that it is particularly useful or
profitable to pursue all kinds of difficult questions.
It is certainly not wise to seek them out ; but once
they have presented themselves they ought to be
faced and resolved, if capable of resolution, which
some are not. These last are altogether vain and
profitless."

izth May 1866.

" I have read Ruskin's Ethics of the Dust.
There is much instruction in it conveyed in a
pleasant way, but it is a little too fanciful for me.
It seems to me just on the boundary line which
separates brilliant allegory from what might be
deemed fantastic, and according to the mind and
imagination of the reader will be almost passionately
admired, or tossed aside as absurd. I go a long
way with him when he says that girls should dance,
and dress, and be merry. The mirth and happiness
of children is praise to God, and I have no doubt is
acceptable in His sight as it is pleasant in ours.
Out of the mouths of babes He has perfected praise
in this as in a higher sense. There is truth, too,

G

98 1866

in what he says about reading the Bible as the
hedgehog steals grapes, but he is carried too far in
the reaction against the gloomy views of human
nature which are sometimes taught to children.
Perhaps even father and mother hold tenets verging
in that direction, but their life and example, by
which precept is always interpreted by children,
have taught us a milder lesson."

The Reform Bill introduced by Lord Russell
and Mr Gladstone was thrown out in June 1866,
and demonstrations were being held in many parts
of the country and in London in favour of Reform.

The action of the Conservative Ministry, which
had just come into office, in forbidding one such
meeting, arranged for the 23rd of July, to take
place in Hyde Park, resulted in an attack, said
to be unpremeditated, on the Park railings, which
were so weak that the people pulled them down
and walked over them, ignoring altogether the
locked and guarded gates.

To S.

1866.

" I have no doubt you have been startled and
shocked at the doings in London last evening. I
was eye-witness to much of them, and wrote an
account of what I saw to B. From the moment
that the Ministry forbade the meeting, I foresaw
what would come of it. Right or wrong, the people
imagined they had a right to meet in Hyde Park,
and a high-handed threatening proclamation could
have no other effect on Englishmen than to fire
their blood and make them resolute in their purpose.
The right course would have been to throw open

HYDE PARK RIOT 99

the Park and have abundance of police to keep
order ; the whole thing would have gone off quietly
and peaceably. Instead of this, the gates were
closed at five o'clock and guarded by a powerful
force of police. Such folly I never heard of, and
the results prove it. Scarcely a hundred yards of
railing standing round the Park ; law and order set
at nought, and the mob reigning supreme. Last
evening the mass of the people were working men
and respectable tradesmen — largely sprinkled of
course with the lowest classes, and, having had a
taste of license, as I expected, these last mean to
have more. And they are in the Park now by
thousands. It is said that another meeting is to be
called for next Monday. If so, I trust they will
not attempt to stop it. If they do there will be
bloodshed, and surely the most bigoted Conserva-
tive cannot think it worth that. In the meantime
we shall have the Park occupied by roughs every
evening, who will be sneered at as the champions of
reform, whereas they are only the dregs of the
people let loose by the folly of Government.

" I consider Government entirely responsible for
the row and for all that follows. You would be
astonished at the small amount of actual mischief
done. Where the rushes and fighting took place,
of course the flowers are trampled, but, though the
people had unrestrained access to every part, they
did not steal the flowers, and anyone attempting it
was made to desist."

The year 1867 was marked by the birth of a
second boy, who lived only a few weeks.

To Mrs C.

loth April 1867.

" I do not know what kind or degree of enter-
tainment you promise yourself from this note. I

100 1867

have just been at an entertainment upstairs in
which an entirely new performer was introduced,
name, as yet, unknown. The old, old story of the
little stranger, of course. I cannot say it loses
much of its interest, in spite of repetition.

" May at first regarded the new-comer with
eyes full of wonder, and for a time her little
chatter was quelled. Her theory on the subject
is that he is her property to replace her doll
which the boy smashed utterly yesterday. Said
boy does not trouble himself much about the
matter, but he gave a kiss very heartily, declin-
ing, however, peremptorily to take his little
brother's hand. To my great satisfaction ' it's a
boy,' and he has positively got a nose, only I have
no confidence in this feature, as boy senior's
promised to be something, and instead of growing,
has almost undergone retrograde metamorphosis.

"As to your banter, I have quite come to the
conclusion, that when I dine with you and Mrs A.,
one of the entremets will be a re"chauff£e de vieilles
reproches, and as acids and bitters are supposed to
be good for digestion, I shall make believe to relish
the familiar dish."

To Mrs C.

\Tth May 1867.

"You will already know that our little one is
taken from us. The flowers you brought to grace
his christening, will serve to deck his little coffin.
It is hard to have to part with a child, though so
short a time with us, and, poor little fellow, it seems
sad that his life should have been cut short.

"You will not expect us to-morrow. The old
and now unfashionable expression, Deo Volente, had
after all, not lost its application. I rarely omit to
supply it mentally, and did not forget it when

DEATH OF CHILD 101

writing to you ; indeed, the terms I used suggested
it with greater force than usual, but little did I think
that the fell destroyer would put his veto on our
expedition.

"It is a solemn thing to have a little spotless
one gone on before us. So soon after baptism.

"It seems as if Christ had taken us at our word
when we thus dedicated him to Him."

CHAPTER VI

ORIGINAL RESEARCH

A Continental Holiday. Paris — The Rhine — Switzerland. Climb-
ing. Introductory Lecture. Christmas Letter to his Brother
(1868). 1868 Oxford Meeting. George Henry Lewes. Original
Research. Study of the Brain, etc. F.R.C.P. British Medical
Association at Leeds. At Llanfairfechan, 1869. Miscellaneous
Letters.

IN June 1867, a few days were spent in Rouen
and Paris with his sister, and later in the year he
paid a visit to Switzerland with his friend Walter
Coulson.

His letters bear witness to the restless energy
which distinguished him during his early manhood,
and to the physical strength and indifference to
fatigue which made it possible for him to get
through the amount of work which he accom-
plished : —

PARIS, Ttkjune 1867.

"We arrived here this morning at four o'clock
and have already seen nearly all Paris. It was a
lovely morning, and we started on our travels.
Unfortunately the left luggage office was not
open, and I had to carry the bag. We walked
all the way — first to the Madeleine, then to the

102

A CONTINENTAL HOLIDAY 103

Place de la Concorde, over the bridge, up the
quay, back towards the garden of the Tuileries,
over the next bridge. These not being open at
that hour, we went along by the Tuileries to the
gate into the square between the Tuileries and
the Louvre — (Place du Carrousel, Place du Louvre)
— on to the Palais de Justice and Notre Dame,
by which time we found a caf6 open and had
our breakfast and a rest. Then along the Rue
de Rivoli for a short distance — next to the fruit
market — larger and busier than Covent Garden —
and into the Church of St Eustache.

" Finally we returned to the station by way of
the Place Vendome, and after a good deal of trouble
got our luggage and came on here (Mme Armand-
Delille's), arriving at about 10.30. We have had
breakfast and a rest, and are thinking of taking a
drive to the Bois de Boulogne, the only thing we
are up to."

In August of the same year he went to
Switzerland with Mr Coulson, and writes : —

To S.

yd Sept. 1867.

" I find it very difficult to turn to serious work,
and while the scenes I have just visited are fresh
in my memory, I have come to the conclusion that
I cannot do better than put down some of my
impressions for your benefit. As you know, we
first arrived at Bale, through which town runs the
Rhine, broad, deep, and extremely rapid. We
did little here but examine the Cathedral or
Miinster, which is built of red sandstone, and
occupies an elevated platform, round the base of
which the river sweeps, and from which a good

104 SWITZERLAND

view of the hills of the Black Forest is obtained.
We crossed the river in a peculiar ferry boat, which
is propelled entirely by the force of the current.
A wire rope stretches from one bank to the other,
along this glides another rope on a sort of carriage
or pulley, this last being attached to the bow of the
boat. All that has to be done is to place the helm
in a certain position, and away starts the boat
across the stream. It is an interesting case of
resolution of forces.

"We went to Zurich the same day, the rail-
way for the greater part of the way passing
through magnificent valleys. Zurich we did not
see much of, but we had a swim in the lake, our
second bath that day, for we had a dip in the
Rhine at Bale. Next morning we were up very
early to take the first boat along the lake. It
started soon after 5, and we had first the clear
transparence which precedes sunrise, then the haze
which rises from water under the early rays, and
again a clear bright atmosphere. About half way
down the lake we quitted the steamer, and after a
delay of about f of an hour mounted the post
omnibus for Zug. It was intended that passsengers
should go inside only, but it did not suit us to be
shut up in a close musty box, so we got the driver
to make us a seat of hay, bags, and luggage on the
top, and then we thoroughly enjoyed our ride. We
had magnificent views all along the road, first of
the lake and surrounding scenery, later of the
Rigi, Pilatus, and distant mountains. We were
able also to observe the very primitive postal
arrangements. Letters were lying about under
our feet, and the driver tossed up another, or
groped for one he had to deliver, as occasion
required."

AT CHAMOUNIX 105

To Mrs C.

yd Sept. 1867.

" Monday morning was full of promise. Mont
Blanc was visible from base to summit. We started
about 7 with no very definite object, taking the
direction towards the Pierre Pointue. We got
there in very quick time, our guide (one of the
Balmats) taking a pleasure in doing up an Ober-
land guide with Mr H. who joined us in this expedi-
tion. Coulson and I were in favour of going on to
the Grands Mulcts, but Mr H. did not wish, so we
turned aside towards the Glacier des Pelerins. We
soon had to take to the rope, and after some pretty
crevasse work and snow climbing, we made up our
minds to scale one of the spurs of the Aiguille du
Midi. It was a stiff piece of work we had set our-
selves, but we were up to anything, and Mr H.,
who is an experienced Alpine man, required a good
deal more help than either Mr Coulson or myself.
I was last in the string — the post of danger, and
therefore the post of honour. The only thing I
really did not like was being kept standing on a
snow bridge over crevasses, which was my lot over
and over again ; but I confess I was not sorry to get
down again to solid earth. Rain came on and we
got thoroughly drenched.

"On Tuesday we went to the 'Jardin,' starting
from Chamounix at about 5.30 and breakfasting at
Montanvert. You have done that, and so will be
able to appreciate the condition we were in, when I
tell you that from Montanvert to the Jardin we did
in seven minutes under three hours. The return
between the same points in one hour and a quarter."

His nature was singularly many-sided, and his
extraordinary energy and capacity for endurance

106 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE

made him throw himself into pleasure and work
alike with an enjoyment and thoroughness which
seemed to ignore fatigue.

At the same time he had a tenderness for
weakness, and a profound sympathy with suffer-
ing, which throughout his life were a dominant
note in his character, and were illustrated by the
closing remarks of the Introductory Lecture which
he gave to the students of St Mary's Hospital in
1867, when he was thirty- two years old: —

INTRODUCTORY LECTURE AT ST MARY'S
HOSPITAL

"They, as medical men, would enter a house-
hold at all times and seasons. When anxiety had
overthrown caution, or gratitude had overflown
reticence, its inner life would be exposed to their
view, and in many ways they would become
the repositories of secrets involving the honour
and happiness of individuals and families. No one
would be so base as to use these for his own
profit. But, further, peculiar delicacy was required
of them. They must shut their eyes to every-
thing which did not concern the safety of the
patient, and repress imprudent revelations. Even
the small matters which under other circumstances
might be thought subject of harmless gossip must
be regarded as under the seal of confession."

He goes on : —

" Again, we come into relation with our fellow-
man in his hour of weakness. Disarmed by
personal suffering or domestic affliction, he lies

ADDRESS TO STUDENTS 107

defenceless under our eyes ; the smaller aims and
objects which give colour to his outward life are
submerged ; the lesser motives and passions which
inspire his daily actions are in abeyance ; the deeper
strata of the character are bared ; the real man
stands before us in his true dimensions. And what
noble self-abnegation do we sometimes see, and what
hideous selfishness ! What unsuspected qualities of
mind and heart come out, and how many apparent
virtues and graces of character are found to be
fictitious ! To few is it given to see, as we do,
human nature in its majesty and in its meanness.

" What attitude of mind then becomes us who
are thus privileged to look into the fire of the great
Refiner? Is it not that of humility and charity?
We, of all others, should know ourselves, and
knowing ourselves we shall feel that in us there
dwells all too little of what is exalted, all too much
of what is mean. We shall be ready to see moral
greatness wherever it exists, and give it our homage
and admiration ; and we shall look on littleness
with pity, not with contempt. I think it is Oliver
Wendell Holmes, one of our own profession, who
says : ' When you see into a man, you despise him ;
when you see through him, you do so no longer.'
Yes, vices are often the result of a faulty organisa-
tion or of unpropitious circumstances. Cherish
always, then, a reverence for man as man, however
abject the individual.

" But not in sickness only and pain — in nature's
last extremity we are called to stand and look on ;
and the approach of death is impressive even when
the mind is confused by delirium or obscured by
coma, still more when it is awake and clear. One
man meets death in the spirit of the old warrior,
who bade them array him in complete armour and
place him upright on his feet ; he looks the last
enemy in the face with undaunted eyes. Another

108 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE

so fears his approach that when his hand is on
every limb, and his mark on every feature, he dare
not admit to himself the truth, and the last breath
is a whispered ' to-morrow.' One takes what is to
him the first 'leap in the dark' without quailing,
another with fearful misgiving ; while for others,
happily, it is no unknown bourne to which they go,
but a long-looked-for haven of peace and joy.

" Are these solemn lessons to be lightly regarded
by us because more than once repeated ? Shall it
be said truly of us that we are familiar with pain
and death, and insensible to suffering and sorrow ?
Familiar — yes! Insensible — no! We must keep
our minds unperturbed and calm in the presence
even of the fiercest agony, but it need not be that
sympathy is extinguished within us. If death is
in our experience an everyday event, we need not
therefore forget that to the dying man, whose
flagging pulse we tell, it is the supreme moment
when, all alone, he goes to meet his God ; to his
friends, the tearing asunder of ties close woven
round the heart ; and though we must, as men of
science, note with cool eye the throes of expiring
nature, and register the phenomena of dissolution,
we need not therefore forget that it is the passing
away of a human soul. Keep alive, then, sympathy
with suffering, and tenderness for weakness, and
never steel your hearts against the wholesome senti-
ment of awe.

"And, gentlemen, we owe it to our profession
to contribute, so far as in us lies, to the common
stock of knowledge. The particular stone we have
picked up may be small, and the cairn thrown up
by thousands who have passed by the same way
has reached the dimensions of a mountain. Our
pebble may be indistinguishable on the heap, but,
so it be our very own, let us add it.

" We are leaves on a stately tree. We cannot

A CHRISTMAS LETTER 109

all be differentiated into flower and fruit, but each
of us is responsible for the few fibres of wood he
must lay down before he drops off; and it is only
by the healthy action of every leaf that the vigour
and symmetry of the trunk are maintained.

" May we all, in the autumn of our lives, enjoy
the respect and regard earned by an upright and
honourable career ; may we have the inward con-
sciousness of duty faithfully discharged ; and may
our work then, near its end, receive the approval of
God."

His brother John, after joining the Royal
Engineers, went out to India in the autumn of
1868, and many of the letters which follow are
written to him : —

To /. E.

Christmas, 1868.

"This season, holy in what it commemorates,
and hallowed by so many associations, naturally
brings you much to our minds — not that you are
ever forgotten, for our thoughts and prayers follow
you daily — but we have been accustomed to meet
always round the home fireside, our meetings have
refreshed us for our work, made us young again,
and bound us together more closely in affection. I
hope they are not altogether over, and look forward
to others in the future ; but whether over or not,
they have coloured our lives, and left their mark on
our characters, they are never to be forgotten, or
thought of without emotion, and wherever one of
us may be on this earth, to that point will turn the
minds of all the rest with love and greetings. The
usual terms of Christmas greeting we find inappro-
priate for use among us who remain here, and

110 VIEWS ON RITUALISM

although you may possibly be surrounded by
festivities, we hardly think you will be ' merry.'

" One thing I wanted to say to you in my first
letter is to beware of letting your aversion to
Popery and Romanising tendencies carry you too
far. Remember that Roman Catholicism is after
all a form of Christianity, and in the presence of
heathenism all Christians should be brethren.
Tens of thousands go to heaven through the
Romish Church — it has its thousands of devoted
honest servants who, though involved in many
errors and superstitions, are servants of Christ.
You fear that Popery may regain its supremacy
here. I have no such fear, and, if it should, it
would be displacing not the pure truth held by
Protestant churches, but infidelity. In India, at
any rate, it must do more good than harm, and if
you find yourself side by side with some priest
who is living a pure, upright, devoted life, do not
let your disapproval of many of his tenets prevent
you from giving him your friendship and support.

"Again, as to Ritualists, who, as I hear are
numerous and extravagant in India, be charitable
towards them. Give them all the credit you can
for sincerity, and do not think that by active
opposition and strongly expressed dislike you are
doing your duty. Ritualism is not the disease
itself, it is only a symptom ; it can flourish only
in a corrupt state of society, such as I suppose
Indian society is on the whole ; it is a sort of com-
promise with conscience. It is the state of society
to which you may do good by the exhibition of an
upright Christian walk and conversation, but, if
they can fix upon you the charge of intolerance or
bigotry, your influence will be greatly diminished.
Even Ritualists may have good points ; do not be
blind to them. You can never be wrong in exercis-
ing charity and putting a charitable construction on

DUTY TOWARDS NATIVES 111

the actions and motives of others, especially in
matters of religion.

" I feel rather inclined to go on sermonising now
I have begun. I have thought, of course, a good
deal about your career and your character ; and to
what errors you are constitutionally liable, but I
know you carry right motives, and they will not let
you get far wrong.

" Practically your first duty is towards the natives,
over whom, in God's providence, we are set as rulers
for their good. This constitutes our only right to
be in India. You will never look upon them as
brute beasts, but as fellow-creatures whose material
and moral welfare it is your business to promote.
It is in this way you will best serve your Queen
and country.

" The only thing I feel inclined to warn you
against is taking too professional a view of some of
the questions which will be constantly brought
before you.

" You must have patience, too, with us Liberals in
politics. Most men come back from India extreme
Conservatives. I think the development of your
mind will carry you in a contrary direction. Always
be ready to give us credit for good intentions at
least, even when we seem to be pulling down what
are in your idea the bulwarks of the throne."

The letters written during these years contain
many references to the experiments upon which
he was engaged, and his accounts of the meetings
of the British Medical Association, which were
held at Oxford and Leeds in successive years,
show that the quality of his scientific work was
being recognised by his professional brethren : —

112 MEETING AT OXFORD

To B.

Aug. 1868.

" The meeting at Oxford was a great success. I
considered it very important that I should be there,
and, as I was invited to Magdalen College, I
expected to enjoy myself. The result surpassed
my expectations in both respects.

" I think I took a long step forward in the pro-
fession, and I do not know when I had so much
enjoyment in the same time. I left London at
6.30, and reached Magdalen in time for breakfast.
It is a grand old college. All the time I was there
I was regretting that I had not been sent to Oxford.
I think I should have spent my life there.

" I saw some Honorary Degrees conferred, and
heard an address, and then had lunch at Dr Acland's,
then more addresses and papers ; but the great
charm was meeting clever and distinguished men
and old acquaintances, teachers, fellow-students,
and pupils.

" One address, however, that of Professor
Haughton of Dublin, was the greatest treat in its
way I ever heard — so much Irish wit and humour
introduced into a subject which seemed about the
most unpromising and unlikely one could imagine.
He fairly carried away the meeting. I was un-
fortunate in not seeing him afterwards. He was
one of the few men I should have liked to know to
whom I did not get introduced.

"Among the acquaintances I made was George
Henry Lewes, husband of George Eliot. He took
to me very much, and invited me to join a little
party at dinner. (He is a great physiologist.) Our
talk was literary and scientific, but anything but
dry. It was one of those treats which happen
rarely. I am to be introduced to George Eliot,

SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS 113

and, in fact, am invited to their very selectest
gatherings. Next day I took part in one of
the grand discussions. I had the opportunity of
expounding my views to some of the advanced
men, and they are received with something like
enthusiasm. I had looked forward to many years
of hard work before any impression could be
made on the profession, but I think my ideas will
make way faster than I imagined. An abstract of
my paper has come out in the Proceedings of the
Royal Society, and I am now engaged on a paper
for the Journal of Anatomy and Physiology"

He often spoke of George Eliot's Sunday
gatherings, and of the original of Daniel Deronda,
whom he met there, but no reference to them occurs
in the letters which have been preserved.

7th Aug. 1868.

" My holiday for the year is gone. I have Dr
Murchison's work at the Fever Hospital for this
month, Dr Sibson's at St Mary's till late in
September ; and for once I have something which
will bring in a little money. I take Dr Chambers'
place at an insurance office for five weeks, which
gives me £3 a week."

He again turned his attention to scientific
investigation, and continued his experiments on
the therapeutic effects of drugs, work which did
not bring in money, and was difficult enough to
carry on in a house where there were young children
and students, and in which leisure time was scarce
and space was very limited. He was making use

of frogs, and, as there were no facilities for the

H

114 SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS

prosecution of original research at the hospital,
all his work had to be done at home in a small
back room which served as his study and laboratory,
and the frogs occasionally escaped and were to be
met with all over the house.

The other line of investigation with which he
was still occupied was a continuation of his close
study of the brain.

In describing the work on which he was
engaged, he says : —

" The tracings were made by the following
method practised with great success by Dr Sibson,
from whom I learnt it, in figuring the fibres of
the heart.

"A sheet of glass is placed over the brain as
close to it as possible. The fissures and sulci are
traced upon the glass in Indian ink, or some other
pigment, by means of a camel hair brush pencil,
the eye being carefully maintained perpendicularly
over the point to be represented. The tracing is
then transcribed on thin paper placed over the
glass and held up to the light, and is afterwards
carefully compared with the brain, so as to eliminate
accidental and unimportant markings, and to give
due relative importance to the different fissures and
sulci."

To B.

Christmas^ 1868.

" I am working very hard. I have just read a
paper on Chorea, which was a success, and I have
promised a series on the subject peculiarly my own,
' Chemical Properties and Therapeutical Action,'

EFFECTS OF DRUGS 115

to the British Medical Journal. All being well, I
wish to give the three years which must elapse
before I become full physician to science, and then
having, as I hope, established a scientific reputa-
tion, I shall be prepared to try for practice, which
one cannot do till after a certain age.

" I hope Ben and Arthur are looking out for
frogs for me, and that Ben will bring them.

" I am working away at my experiments. The
same time and labour spent on other work, such
as concocting a book on some disease or other,
would pay sooner and perhaps better, but I look
forward. I know it is work of the most valuable
kind, which will be doing good long after I
am gone.

"It is clearly my mission, too, and I could not
carry on the severe and close thinking if I were
making money now. I hope, however, to be doing
better in this respect."

A letter of the same date describes the conditions
under which this "severe and close thinking" was
carried on : —

ToS.

ec. 1868.

" But really for the last three months we have
been more like a boarding-house than a family, and
the little money gain that we shall have by two
students is more than counterbalanced by the loss
of comfort. We must endure it till the end of
March, but I shall not be tempted to try it again.
Perhaps an insufficient holiday has been partly the
cause also, but I think it has been the succession of
little worries of one kind and another which has
seemed to take all the elasticity out of me. I have
done my work and have worked hard in a dogged

116 SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS

sort of way, but I have had no heart for letter-
writing and for many other little things which gild
life and make it bright. However, I hope things
will be better soon. The relief which the prospect
of a few days to ourselves gives us is greater than
you can understand."

To his Brother J. E. in India

2Tth Feb. 1869.

" I think I have been working harder than
ever this year. I had long contemplated a thorough
investigation of the arrangement of fibres in the
brain, at which I worked a little some years ago,
and I began it early in the year. I never was so
fascinated with a study, and the new facts I have
made out exceed in number and importance all I
had anticipated. We know really very little of the
structure of the brain. I am not yet in a position
to publish my results, because there are many
points yet to settle, and what will be most trouble-
some, I must have drawings and specimens to
illustrate and demonstrate my discoveries. Some
of my old work is gaining recognition. The other
day, in the Gulstonian Lectures at the College of
Physicians, a discovery of mine in the physiology
of the nervous system formed the subject of a
considerable part of the lecture, very much to the
astonishment, I believe, of some of the old fogies
who had never heard of it."

\s>th Ap. 1869.

" We have had mid-summer weather since
Saturday, and I have taken to early rising. It is
quite delightful to have an hour's work before
breakfast.

" I have nearly finished my final dissection of the

WORK ON THE BRAIN 117

brain, but I find I have several points which I
cannot yet settle. I think I shall have to leave
them for another paper, especially as I have
received a cargo of frogs (50 or 60), and must go
on with my experiments on them.

" I think I enjoy work more than ever, and can
get through more of it."

To J. E.

iyd June 1869.

" My work not only takes all my time, but
occupies my thoughts and claims my attention in
a very exclusive way.

" I have just finished and sent in to the Royal
Society a long paper on the brain. What amount
of attention it will obtain at once I do not know,
but I am satisfied that it adds very much to our
knowledge of the structure of the brain, and that
some day or other it must be acknowledged to have
some value.

" I myself have been astonished at the number
and importance of new facts left for me to discover,
and I think I see my way to a very considerable
degree of comprehension of the brain as the instru-
ment of the intellectual operations."

" Besides my paper on the brain, I have this
year written a review on Carpenter's Physiology,
edited by Mr Power ; a paper ' On the Function
of the Blood in Muscular Work,' another on the
' Selective Absorption by the Lymphatics and
Lacteals,' explaining this by simple physical laws ;
and I have on hand different papers relating to
the brain.

" I want, too, to get back to my old subject, the
action of medicines and poisons. Altogether, if all
is well and I am able to get on with my work, I

118 SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATIONS

shall have turned out a tolerable amount during the
year. Whether all my work will one day bring me
patients and money, I do not know. It is clearly my
mission to do it, and I am thankful that God uses
me to add to the stock of human knowledge."

$th Oct. 1869.

" I have not yet got fairly to work, but I have
laid my plans, and hope, all being well, to complete,
or at least to add, to my researches on the brain ;
and I am beginning an investigation of relapsing
fever, which is epidemic in London just now, by
which I hope to obtain light on the subject of fever
generally."

" I told you I was full physician to the Fever
Hospital now, which brings ^100 a year. Another
source of income is, however, suspended pro tern.
I should not object were it finally, i.e., from
students."

" You may have heard from home that I was
elected Fellow of the College of Physicians in July ;
an expensive honour, ,£56, ios., which, however, I
could not afford to decline, and I hope to recoup
myself one day or other by being made examiner, etc.

" I might possibly have done something towards
this at once, but unfortunately the meeting of the
College for the admission of new Fellows took
place while we were in Wales, and after learning
from the registrar that it was not incumbent
on me to attend that particular meeting, I did not
come.

" I find no meeting at which I can be formally
admitted will be held till November, and in the
meantime the Gulstonian Lectures, which are
always given to one of the new batch of fellows,
have been assigned to Dr Maudsley. I knew I

F.R.C.P. 119

had had a good chance of being appointed
Gulstonian Lecturer, and since my return to London
I find it amounted to little less than a certainty, so
that through ignorance I have missed at the same
time a great distinction, a great opportunity of
setting forth my views on the action of remedies,
and a money payment which would have diminished
the pressure of the heavy fee one has to pay for the
Fellowship.

" I propose to work hard at scientific questions
for another year or two, when it is not unlikely I
may be made F.R.S. Judging by what others
have done, I have earned it already, but there is a
good deal of private interest even in the Royal
Society elections. Afterwards I hope to turn my
attention to strictly medical questions, upon which,
however, all my work bears in the most direct
manner.

" But I have not told you of my visit to Leeds.
The meeting of the British Medical Association
was held there this summer, and I was invited by
Dr Clifford Allbutt to stay with him. Among his
guests were Dr Bastian, Lockhart Clarke, Gairdner,
and others, all first-rate men, and our discussions
on questions in which we are all interested, and at
which we are all working, were most delightful.
The meetings of the Association were quite second-
ary in importance and interest to these evenings
after all public work was over."

Miscellaneous letters of this period follow : —

To Mrs C.

LLANFAIRFECHAN,
gth Aug. 1869.

"Behold me in the 'buzzum of my family' —
only they are all just gone out — a very small

120 HOLIDAYS

' buzzum,' to speak figuratively, and a very large
family, for my brother is off to Yorkshire for a
short time on business, leaving me with two wives
and a large small family of 6 children.

" We reached the place on Monday last, and up
to this morning have been in all respects most
fortunate. We have a little cottage to ourselves
close to the sea and just under the hills ; a profusion
of flowers in the garden, in the porch, and in our
rooms ; everything clean and comfortable, nothing
wanting except perhaps a little more space. Oh
yes — a continuation of fine weather. We are not
at all grand and should not exactly come up to
Walter's notions, but we are so perfectly independent
and so utterly regardless of the rest of the world
pro tern., that it is for once easy to bring one's mind
to one's circumstances.

"And now about the youngsters; they are off
to the other house. They have lived out of doors.
Baby is the best little fellow that ever lived. He
persecutes his papa a little now that he is within
reach, but I rather like it, and I can have a roll
on the grass with him and take him to the beach,
regardless of Mrs Grundy.

" May is getting fat and brown, and is as charm-
ing and happy as ever. I am afraid she is in the
way of evil communications.

" Johnny finds some mischief still for his busy
hands to do, without, as I believe, any need of
Satanic suggestions, and in fact there is nothing
Satanic in his mischief.

" I have had to give him and May their first
lesson in Radicalism. Some little Welsh children
came to the gate to look at them in the garden.
Master Johnny ordered them off, and, as they
disobeyed, and probably did not understand his
mandate, proceeded to enforce it by throwing a
pailful of gravel at them. He was in such earnest

HOLIDAYS 121

that he threw his pail as well, and he was dreadfully
afraid they would run off with it before he could
get to it. He shook his fist and shouted, ' Don't
pick it up,' and dashed to the gate, putting the
youngsters to flight. I did not see this, but May,
later in the day, was adopting the same measures
for dispersing other children, and I gave them a
lecture. I am bound to say I did not succeed in
making much impression on Johnny, but he will
grow up a good Radical after all."

To Mrs C.

44 SEYMOUR ST.,
i ^th July 1870.

" Mr H.'s programme and my own plans are so
different that they afford no basis for negotiation,
and I must consequently ' gae my own gait.' I
usually find myself very good company (though I
say it who shouldn't) in the presence of Nature in
any of her manifestations ; or to put it less offensively
and egotistically, I find Nature very kind and very
entertaining, and we have most interesting conver-
sations, not always silent ones by any means, Nature
and myself, that is, or my two personalities, or two
cerebral hemispheres — whichever you like — so that
I do not despair of a pleasant journey, if I should
not obtain any better companion than myself.

" It seems very doubtful, though, whether I
shall be able to go by the Rhine, as things look
very warlike again, and I am not sure whether that
would not lead to an entire change of plan."

To Mrs C.

44 SEYMOUR ST.,
2yd Aug. 1870.

" When this morning I found myself in a linen
shirt and stand-up collar, in a long coat and tall

122 HOLIDAYS

hat, with various minor indications about me of an
attempt to assume the outward conventional marks
of respectability and civilisation, I felt I was quite
another individual from the one whose chief pre-
occupation for the last three weeks had been to get
over a certain amount of ground, climb a given set
of hills, see fine scenery and enjoy himself promiscu-
ously, as the Americans say.

" Curious, is it not, how large a proportion of a
person and of a character is constituted by clothes.
Here let me make a distinction and indicate a
difference : by person I mean an individual human
being in relation to others ; by character, the man
or woman (necessary to specify both nowadays)
in relation to self. (N.B. — This is not exact, and
comes very near being rubbish.) But the fact which
lies at the bottom of the reflection is that I feel as
if I had simply woke up from a three weeks' dream
— appetite better, it is true, and sleep sounder ;
face browner and step more elastic ; mind, as well
as body, braced up, and work easier ; but otherwise
(these are mere trifles of course), so completely do I
drop into routine ways and work, that I might never
have stirred from the spot, and all my experiences
seem to have happened to somebody else. There
are two threads, however, which establish my
personal identity, the identity of the individual
who left London three weeks ago, more or less,
who now sits writing to you, with that of
the one who in the meantime has been strol-
ling about in big boots (not his own, by
the way) and ' indescriptible ' costume. These
are constantly recurring thoughts of a little group
in Yorkshire, and the most intense interest in
the war.

" I have never seen the Rhine, and so cannot
make ' odious ' comparisons between it and the
Wye ; but I certainly could not have had more

THE NEWCOMES 123

pleasure from a trip up the Rhine, than I had from
my walks and drives near Chepstow.

" Tintern it is impossible to speak of without
apparent extravagance. I thought nothing could
compare with the exquisite proportions and incom-
parable grace of the west window, till I was fasci-
nated with the simple majesty and daring grandeur
of the east window. But turn which way one will
in that abbey, and there is something to strike the
imagination."

44 SEYMOUR ST.,
ec. 1870.

To Mrs C.

"... Curiously enough, we have read the New-
comes, and we are now reading Pendennis. You
astonish me when you say you do not care for
the old Colonel. The ' register ' of your heart must
be different from mine, if it has no strings which
vibrate in unison with such a character ; but so it
is. We mortals who call ourselves men and women
are different, more different than we imagine, till a
reagent, as the chemists say, is dropped into us, a
mild one, such as a book, or a powerful one, in the
form of an event, when, behold, a totally different
precipitate shows itself. Blue light will not pass
through yellow glass, and vice versa. When I find
myself among tropes, and similes, and metaphors
derived from physical science — when, in fact, I draw
upon the poetry of the future, I am almost as bad
as Sancho Panza with his proverbs. I should be
quite, if I were sure I should be understood and
appreciated. By the way, I wonder if you like
Don Quixote ? But I must go back to the dear old
Colonel, whom I love, voyez-vous, as if I had known
him ; whose sufferings give me so much pain that
for years I have not ventured to read the book. I

124 THIRTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY

like him now as when I first was introduced to him,
and I could take the book again to-morrow, and
read it through before I ate or slept. And if I read
it twenty times, I should enjoy it to the last.

" The children are very busy with a Christmas
tree which affords them endless amusement. Can
you give me any idea as to the market price of inno-
cent pleasure? I have tried to estimate approxi-
mately the relative quantivalence of nerve force,
but I cannot get a basis for calculation in the case
of pleasure ; the equation would be one of at least
three dimensions."

To J. E.

idth Feb. 1871.

" You say I am getting quite an old fellow, and
you have found it out just a year later than I did.
I had quite a bad quarter of an hour the day I was
35 ; there was really no possibility of any longer
imagining myself a boy. It is painful to think how
little one has done. I ought to have made my
mark in the world before now, and perhaps I have
sown some seeds which will germinate one day or
other. But how much there is that I feel I can do,
and have not yet done, and how time slips away,
and how slowly thought is matured and put into
shape. Well, I do not intend to have another
mauvais quart dheure of the same sort till I am 40,
should I be spared so long. I do work after a
fashion, and I hope I shall do good to the world in
general, and for myself and my own household in
particular."

CHAPTER VII

FRANCO- PRUSSIAN WAR

Franco-Prussian War. Interest in Military Matters. Letters from
Paris during the Siege.

THE outbreak of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870
gave a new turn to his thoughts, and he made
arrangements to go to Paris, intending to offer his
services with the ambulances. He was, however,
detained in London, and could only show his
sympathy with his personal friends by urging them
to take refuge in England, and inviting them to
stay with him. All through the war he was in
constant correspondence with them, and even during
the siege of Paris he received letters by pigeon or
balloon post, some few of which are inserted here
for the picture which they give of the sufferings
endured by the inhabitants during that terrible
time.

Immediately after the capitulation he sent a box
of provisions which reached its destination while
food was still at famine prices ; and after the con-
clusion of the Commune, hearing that one
of Madame Armand - Delille's daughters was
dangerously ill, he went to Paris to see her. He

125

126 THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR

had always taken an extraordinary interest in
military matters, saying that if he had not been a
doctor he should have entered the army, and during
this short visit he spent much of his time in going
over the battlefields in the immediate vicinity of
Paris. Later on, in 1872, he devoted part of his
summer holiday to studying the course of the war
in Alsace and Lorraine, and wrote home long
accounts of what he saw and heard in the course
of his walks.
He writes : —

To J. E.

\6thFeb. 1871.

" You will easily understand that the war has
been a subject of absorbing interest to me. It has
cost me 6 months' work. I had almost weaned
myself from newspapers, but when such tremendous
events were in progress it was impossible to keep
cool, and I have eagerly devoured every scrap of
information. My sympathies have been warmly
German throughout, and I have not seen reason,
as so many have, to change my opinions during the
later stage of the war. Of course my interest was
intensified as the struggle rolled up to the walls of
Paris, when the fighting was going on over ground
I knew perfectly well, and when personal friends
were actually engaged, or shut up in the place.

"When I say that I have sympathised with
the Germans, you will understand that no one has
felt more deeply the sufferings of the French,
whether national, or as falling on individuals. My
intention of going to the seat of war was inspired
by the wish to relieve them. It fell through because

LETTERS FROM PARIS 127

on arriving here I found Dr T., who had my Fever
Hospital work, ill with scarlet fever ; and at St
Mary's three of the physicians had arranged to
leave me in charge of their patients."

From Madame Armand-Delille

i H. DU MATIN,
4 Sept. 1870.

" Nous savons notre malheur actuel ; que notre
pauvre MacMahon a Iutt6 en vain, et meme qu'il
est blessed Tout semble vraiment bien perdu pour
nous. Cependant soyez avert! qu'il ne faut pas
toujours croire votre Times ; il y a quelques terns je
1'ai vu annoncer une revolution dans Paris, quand il
n'y avait rien ; une charge de cuirassiers centre le
peuple, quand ces braves militaires paradaient
paisiblement. Oui ; il y a des camps en presence,
des visees diverses, des sentimens opposes les uns
aux autres, dans notre capitale, mais en ce moment
Paris est electrise par la sublime defense de
1'heroi'que Strasbourg, tous voudraient marcher a
son secours, et tous veulent se defendre ici. Je ne
sais pas encore ce qu'on aura decide a la Chambre
aujourd'hui ; j'attendrai a demain pour fermer ma
lettre."

De chez mon Frere

I H. DE L'APRis-MlDI,

4 Sept. 1870.

"A minuit sont arrivees les depeches qui nous
apprennent la defaite complete, la capitulation,
1'Empereur prisonnier, enfin toute 1'horreur de ces
lamentables journees. Ce matin a 8 h. nous
1'avons su par le journal. Paris semble calme,
sombre, solitaire dans la stupeur. C'est incroyable
1'etat dans lequel nous sommes. J'apprends a

128 THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR

1'instant la mort de MacMahon ; la fuite de
1'Imperatrice . . . ceci peu importe . . . mais
point de gouvernement ; rien. Comme nous avons
besoin du gouvernement de Celui qui permet cette
effroyable malheur, cette humiliation nationale,
meritee sans doute, mais terrible."

9 H. DU SOIR,

4 Sept. 1870.

" Et cependant je ne me rends pasavotrepressante
invitation ; mais j'espere que ce soir deja vous etes
rassure sur nous. Le telegraphe vous a deja appris
que ce jour si sombre lorsque je finissais ma lettre
de ce matin se termine dans une joie nationale dont
vous ne pouvez vous faire d'idde. Jamais pareils
contrastes n'ont eu lieu en quelques heures. Mais
je suis si brisee par tant d'emotions que je ne puis
vous en dire davantage. Je ne pouvais non plus
rester dans le silence avec vous, apres ces nouvelles
lignes regues a 5 h. lorsque je rentrais, venant de
traverser Paris, de voir ces visages radieux, cette
joie qui illuminait tout ; ces aigles qu'on arrachait
partout ; cette statue de Strasbourg, couronne*e de
fleurs sur la Place de la Concorde, et les e"pe"es des
sergents de ville brise"es et jete"es a ses pieds ; cette
cour inte"rieure des Tuileries, ou nous sommes entrds
avec une foule paisible et heureuse. II semble
qu'un souffle de bonheur anime tout. On oublie la
Prusse, 1'ennemi sur le territoire, les ddsastres, les
humiliations, les douleurs de toutes sortes. II
faudra bien y penser encore, mais 1'espoir est rentre
dans toutes les ames. Dans quelques jours je vous
e"crirai encore."

9 Sept. 1870.

" Et sans doute encore vous etes anxious
about me, car notre position n'est guere plus
rassurante. Mardi le 6 en passant a St Sulpice

LETTERS FROM PARIS 129

je lisais la derniere affiche du gouvernement :
' L'ennemi se rapproche de plus en plus.' — C'dtait
tout. Ces seules paroles 6taient sinistres dans leur
brievete\ La foule, qui entoure sans cesse la mairie,
lisait et s'en allait en silence. J'ai fait de meme.
En suite, passant le long de la grille du Luxembourg,
je me suis arrete"e a contempler I'oc6an de moutons
qui y parquent depuis une douzaine de jours. La
vue de ces bonnes betes inoffensives, ces belements,
cette odeur de troupeau m'ont donn6 un instant de
soulagement. II me semblait voir la montagne,
le chalet, les frais paturages, et respirer 1'air de la
Suisse, et des hauteurs. He" las.

" Ce qui concerne 1'histoire du terns, les
eVenements exterieurs, vous les trouvez dans les
journaux, plus ou moins fidelement ; c'est done de
nous surtout que je vous parlerai, de nos incidens
particuliers, ou plutdt je vous parlerai de tout ce
qui viendra sous ma plume sans choix. Je suis
incapable de suivre un plan. Done, mardi j'avais
vu Tafriche sur la mairie. Mercredi en m'eVeillant,
j'ai rumine ma journe"e. J'ai cherche" nos sacs
de voyage les plus portatifs. Je les ai distribue"s
a mon mari, et mes trois filles, sans m'oublier
moi-meme, pour que chacun mette dans le sien
propre, les objets les plus ndcessaires a son usage
personnel. Ces sacs maintenant sont tout pr6ts,
dans nos chambres ; nous les avons sous la main.
Cela donne du sang-froid dans le cas, non pas
probable, mais possible, d'une fuite precipit^e.

"Jeudi j'ai employe ma journe"e a placer et
classer me"thodiquement toutes nos provisions pour
le siege. Je suis prete. Je n'attends plus qu'un
sac de riz de 100 kilogr., qui doit nous ar river de
Marseilles ; j'espere qu'il n'est pas destine" a la
soupe des Prussiens. Vendredi hier j'ai prepare"
les chambres des mobiles. Amelie en a un ; les
Monod deux. Nous, point encore ; il parait qu'ils

130 FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR

ne sont pas encore loges dans notre quartier.
Alfred L. en a rencontre" deux dans la rue qui
erraient, cherchant la mairie pour aller prendre
leurs billets de logement ; il leur a offert de les
conduire ; peu a peu, d'autres se sont joints a eux,
et il est arriv£ a la mairie k la tete d'une bande.
II y en a qui sont enchantes de voir Paris ; des
Bretons, des Picards, et bien d'autres. Les paysans
vont surtout se promener au Jardin des Plantes.

" Nous avons ete enthousiasme's, et vous aussi
j'espere, du manifeste de Jules Favre . . . et
ensuite de la lettre de Victor Hugo addressee aux
Allemands. Vous avez, peut-etre, vu qu'une
grande manifestation s'est ported jeudi a 1'am-
bassade ame>icaine k propos de la prompte recon-
naissance de notre R£publique par les Etats Unis,
annonce"e par M. Washburn en termes chaleureux
pour la France.

" C'est Alfred avec ses deux freres qui a entraine"
des amis a la Bourse pour commencer cette
manifestation ; ils sont partis six de la Bourse,
et le long de la route ils annon9aient tout haut
leur dessein ; peu & peu le cortege grossissait ; ils
1'ont affirm^ en achetant chez Giroult, le drapeau
ame>icain et le drapeau francos, qu'ils ont mis &
leur tete ported par deux francs tireurs. Ils sont
arrives plus de 2000 devant I'ambassade.

" Ce matin k midi toutes les fontaines de notre
quartier ont e^e" arre'te'es. On nous a promis de
1'eau pour demain a 8 h. J'ai e"te" moi-meme
recueillir de 1'eau de pluie dans les rigoles de la
terrasse. On prend 1'eau de la ville pour inonder
autour des fortifications devant les pas de 1'ennemi.

" Ma plus grande inquietude personnelle est
Ernst, qui ne reve qu'em ouches, coups de mains,
surprises & faire, sorties. ... II est capable de
tout. Adieu."

SIEGE OF PARIS 131

7 RUE PORTALIS, 23 Dtcembre 1870.

" Cette lettre partira comme autrefois la veille
de Noel mais vous arrivera-t-elle ? Ou etes-vous ?
Que pensez-vous ? Comment vous portez-vous
tous ? Helas ! quand aurai-je la r^ponse? Ce
que je sais bien c'est que votre coeur est bien
tourmente pour nous, vous si bon, si anxieux
pour nous, et qui me 1'avez t£moign£ par une si
touchante sollicitude. Deux coups de canon deja.
Trois, maintenant — quartre — cinq. Je ne compte
plus — viennent de retentir au fort St Ouen depuis
que je vous ecris. A present c'est le formidable
Mont Valerien . . . des coups plus lointains 6clatent
et se succedent. Nous connaissons maintenant
toute cette terrible gamme. C'est notre seule
musique, et les clairons et le tambour. Depuis
plus de trois mois dans Paris on n'entend plus
des pianos, plus d'autre chant que la Marseillaise,
ou le chant du depart, qui eclatent souvent dans
nos compagnies de guerre quand elles s'e"branlent
pour une campagne.

" O, mon ami, quelle vie nous fait cette guerre
inique. J'aurai des volumes a vous £crire. Ma
grande angoisse du moment c'est mon Ernst,
parti le 20 pour sa seconde campagne ; caporal
au 1326 bataillon de guerre, compagnie des
carabiniers de Levallois. Je vous le dis dans
le cas ou vous lisez des journaux fran9ais. Depuis
le commencement de 1'investissement il a fait son
service a Levallois, sous les forts, en differents
endroits ; une nuit il etait de garde aux Tuileries ;
vous voyez que c'est varie. Une angine 1'a retenu
dans sa chambre 1 5 jours ; a peine lev£, encore
tout pale et maigri, il est parti pour 10 jours,
pour la defense du Fort d'Issy. Pendant qu'il
etait aux avants postes, leur sentinelle a £t£
attaquee, et ils ont eu un petit combat qu'a

132 FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR

mis en fuite les Prussians. Le bruit a couru
que leur bataillon avait 6t6 e'charpe'. Heureuse-
ment nous ne Taverns su que le lendemain du jour
ou nous avions un mot de lui. II est revenu encore
plus maigre, et le 46 jour le bataillon est reparti.
Tous, en famille, nous e"tions douze et une bonne
qui poussait la petite voiture de son enfant, et
Blanche qui poussait celle de 1'enfant d'Amelie, nous
marchions a cote" de lui et du bataillon au pas des
clairons et du tambour, tout le long des boulevards,
au milieu de la haie incessante de la foule ; nous
avons marche" ainsi de midi, jusqu' a deux heures et
demi, jusqu' a la porte de la Villette. Ensuite il
a fallu le voir disparaitre sans savoir . . . je n'ai
pas le courage d'achever. En m'embrassant a la
hate, ainsi que son Edith, pendant une courte
halte, il m'a dit 'II faut avoir du nerf.' Je lui
ai dit que j'en aurai, et je veux en avoir. Le
lendemain, apres plusieurs demarches, nous avons
fini par savoir que son bataillon campait a Pantin
sous le fort de Romainville ; puis notre Louis, qui
est chirurgien Major, ayant accepte" ce jour la
d'accompagner une des ambulances pour aller
ramasser les blesses sur le champ de bataille
nous a rapporte" de ses nouvelles. Us ont eu le
grand bonheur pour tous deux de se rencontrer
et de pouvoir ^changer quelques paroles.

" Un peu plus tard notre cher Louis, avec
ses compagnons, n'e*chappait que par une fuite
pre"cipite"e a une pluie d'obus qui e"clatait tout a
coup sur le lieu ou ils s'e"taient un peu trop
aventure"s. Ce meme jour a 1'ambulance Chaptal
je voyais apporte" un bless6 inerte tout sanglant
avec une partie du crane emporte"e par un e"clat
d'obus. J'aidais a de"lacer ses souliers et ses
pauvres pieds me semblaient tout a fait sans vie.
Je pensais a sa mere. Ce que j'ai senti est
impossible a dire. Etait-ce la douleur ou la

PARIS DURING THE SIEGE 133

rage qui 1'emportait dans mon coeur? Je me
suis demandee si je voyais Bismarck en cet etat,
si j'aurais pitie de lui. Eh bien, non. Je me
serais baissee vers lui, et je lui aurais crie qu'il
est un infame."

26 Dfaembre.

" Ah ! son chatiment est deja commence". Ou
sont ces forts qu'il comptait prendre en 2 jours ?
Ou sont ces arbres de Noel que Fritz promettait
a ses soldats d'allumer a Paris ? Ce grand Paris
qui s'est dresse" si sublime devant 1'invasion.

"Notre France est d^solee, my friend, le sang
et les larmes y coulent a flots ; il y a des ruines
partout, et des tombes. Mais qu'elle est grande
et superbe. Son he"roisme est a la hauteur de
ses desastres. Elle sera invincible. La province
et Paris se tiennent les mains serrees et, du meme
regard fier et exaspere, jettent leur deft a la face de
la Prusse. Moi, mere, je declare que je ne veux
ceder ni un pouce de terrain ni une pierre de nos
forteresses a ces hordes barbares. Non, non,
nous attendons nos armees de la Loire ; nous
sommes resignes, patients, nous regardons en haut ;
nous ne sommes qu'un coeur avec notre paternel
Gouvernement de la Defense nationale.

" Puisse le ballon vous porter fidelement tous
mes voeux."

13 Fevrier 1871.

" Ernst enfin, le plus expose de tous, et qui a eu
le plus de fatigues et de privations, a ete garde
dans ses campagnes en avant des forts ; aux avant-
postes, au milieu des obus qui pleuvaient sur
eux comme la grele ; dans ces nuits glace"es aussi,
ou, defense faite d'allumer des feux trop pres de
1'armee ennemie, sur la terre durcie ils s'entassaient

134 FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR

les uns sur les autres, six dans une tente pour quatre,
pour essayer de dormir sans geler.

" Louise et moi nous avons ete gardees aussi,
quand le 5 JanvieV nous avons regu le bapteme du
feu, nous trouvant dans la Rue St Jacques et au
Val de Grace tout justement a 1'heure ou les premiers
obus qui atteignaient Paris tombaient tout autour
et tout pres de nous. Demain nous mangerons
notre derniere ration de cheval dit-on ; et c'est avec
plaisir, je vous assure, que nous retrouverons notre
'vieux bceuf,' et notre 'vieux mouton,' comme nous
le disons en famille. Si vos boites arrivent vite
c'est par vous que premierement nous les retrou-
verons, a 1'exception unique de deux cotelettes qu'
Ernst nous a apportees hier a 1'occasion de 1'anni-
versaire de son pere. II m'a dit que c'etait une
occasion qu'il avait trouvee, mais il n'a jamais
voulu m'avouer combien il les avait payees. Amelie
lui a fait cadeau de trois oranges, Louise d'un quart
de livre de fromage Roquefort, Louis d'une livre
et demi de lard. Ses filles lui ont donne des
boules de gomme pour sa toux, et moi j'ai cuisine
au coin de mon feu pour lui faire un gateau de
riz, mais sans lait, et sans ceufs. Ces details,
tres droles en un autre temps, vous donneront
une idee de la vie Parisienne en 1871, et vous
feront comprendre doublement combien votre envoi
sera le bien venu, afin que votre cceur en soit
tout a fait rejoui. Madeleine, Jane et notre
cuisiniere ont passe la matinee du 12 a la Halle,
et sont revenues transies de froid sans avoir
rien pu acheter. Dames et messieurs, tout le
monde y court ; on se jette sur ce qui arrive et on
fait monter les prix follement. Mais ne vous
mquie"tez plus pour nous, cela ne peut durer long-
temps ainsi, et un peu plus de confort s'introduit deja
chaque jour dans notre vie. Le pain surtout est
redevenu bon, et la boucherie libre quoique tres

THE COMMUNE 135

chere encore. Mais nous avons encore droit a nos
rations taxees."

After the Commune, she writes : —

3/«/« 1871.

" Votre chere lettre m'a etc" un rayon de bonheur
dans nos affreuses tenebres. Oui, votre cher pere
peut dire poor France. Tout ce qu'on peut ex-
primer serait tellement au-dessous de la desolation
et du decouragement qu'on ressent, que je renonce
a vous en parler. Et pourtant, on ne peut parler
d'autre chose. Notre beau Paris d'autrefois, nous
ne le reverrons plus. Ruines, cendres, cadavres
amonceles, nous ne marcherons plus que sur des
morts egorges ; quelle horreur profonde. Et tant de
haines non assouvies se cachent encore dans 1'ombre.
Pourtant il faut y retourner. Mes pauvres petits-
enfants, que je n'ai pas vus depuis plus de 9 mois,
et qui vont se trouver au milieu de ces devastations,
et dans cette atmosphere lugubre et souille"e. Dans
quelle epoque vivons-nous ?

CHAPTER VIII

THE BATTLEFIELDS

Madeleine Delille's Illness. Starts for Paris. Rouen, and some
Reflections. On the Battlefields. (1872) Luxembourg. The
Battlefield of Gravelotte. Chats with a Soldier. A Town Crier.
Sedan. Saarbriick. The Rhine. General Views of German
Government.

EARLY in July he heard from Madame Armand-
Delille that one of her daughters was dying from
consumption, and, knowing that it would be a com-
fort to her, he went over to France as soon as
possible, calling at Rouen for a few hours on the
way and arriving in Paris on Sunday morning.
He remained until Wednesday, and during his short
stay saw something of the ruin which had been
wrought in Paris and its neighbourhood by the war
and the Commune which followed it.

To S.

list July 1871.

" E. will have told you how very ill Madeleine
Armand-Delille is ; poor girl, she has not many
weeks to live. I am very glad I went to see her.
I have been able to do something for her relief, and
it has been a great comfort to them all. She never

186

AFTER THE WAR 137

was very strong, and the privations of the siege,
and more particularly the cold they had to endure
for want of firewood or coal, set up disease which
has progressed with fearful rapidity. All the others
are pretty well.

" My journey has been a very interesting one,
though very sad on more accounts than one. My
thoughts were perpetually occupied with the
question how it was that France as a nation has
fallen so low. I should think that intellectually the
French are the first nation in the world ; nowhere
do you meet with so large a proportion of fine heads
and faces as in Paris, heads expressive of intellect
and faces full of energy. It can only be the lack of
the great moral qualities, and loss of regard for
religion and negation of God, which have made
their splendid mental endowments a curse to them-
selves and to the world.

" I went by Newhaven and Dieppe, partly on
account of the expense of the short sea route,
and partly because I wanted to see Rouen again.
I spent a few hours in Rouen, walking about the
streets where the Prussian soldiers were quietly
promenading with their pipes in their mouths,
looking the quietest and least fierce of soldiers
you could conceive in their undress and in parties
of two or three, or sitting at the doors of the
houses in which they were billeted ; but on guard
in helmet and full dress they were military looking
enough. In a few days the Germans are to with-
draw from Rouen. Their guns were parked on the
large square in front of the Hotel de Ville, close to
that beautiful church of St Ouen. The sentries did
not quite know what to make of me, as I wandered
about at 1 1 o'clock at night round the church and
near the guns. I should have liked a chat with
them, but that Prussian discipline would not permit.
I sat down on the pedestal of the statue of Napoleon

138 PARIS AFTER THE WAR

III., making my nocturnal reflections on the events
which had brought the guns and sentries there,
and apparently occasioning some reflections to the
sentries themselves, as they had a good stare at me,
and finally one took up his position at the corner
nearest me till I retired. I found another beautiful
church — that of St Maclou.

" I got to Paris at 4 A.M., and saw nearly the
whole of the main features before breakfast time —
the Madeleine, with its beautiful columns chipped
by bombs and balls, the Rue Royale, half burnt
to the ground — the Rue du Faubourg St Honore,
along which shot and shell and ball must have
poured like hail ; the Arc de Triomphe, Place de
la Concorde, Tuileries, Louvre, Palais Royal, etc.

" This was Sunday morning, and I spent the
rest of the day with the Delilles. All the family
were at M. Armand-Delille's to dinner — Ernst,
his wife and two children, the last a baby born a
week before the Communal insurrection broke out ;
L. M., Louise and their three boys, from whom
they were separated for 9 months ; Amelie, her
husband and baby of 1 1 months, the baby a great,
strong, fat, healthy child, born on the day of the
battle (as they call it) of Saarbriick, and not a
bit worse for the siege, during which, however, he
sucked his mother to a shadow.

" Ernst's wife behaved heroically during the
siege, never complaining when Ernst had to go to
the outposts, and she would hear nothing of him
for a fortnight, but encouraging him to do what he
thought to be his duty. He was not compelled
to go outside the fortifications, but he went as a
volunteer, and, although, as he says, he has to
regret that he did not, so far as he knew, kill a
single Prussian, the event might have been different
if his spirit had animated the mass of Parisians.

"When the Commune insurrection began, his

CHAMPIGNY 139

battalion declared for the Commune and wanted
to make him first Captain, then Major, but he
refused. He could not get away on account
of his wife's confinement, and he had to fight, or
rather pretend to fight, on the side of the Commune
for a fortnight ; but when the baby was 3 weeks'
old, his wife got away, and then he followed,
running some risk as he dodged the outposts, and
having to seek refuge among the Prussians at St
Denis.

" There was much wild talk of a speedy
revenge, at the dinner table ; L. M. is the only
sensible man among them. I told them the first
thing to be thought of was to make the nation
over again ; but in two or three years, they say,
some complication will arise between Prussia and
Russia, or some other Power, and then they will
go in and repay Prussia.

" On the Monday afternoon I went by rail to
Champigny, the scene of the first great sortie. On
the suburban railway you can ride on the top of
the carriages ; and accordingly I took my seat there,
map in hand, studying the French positions, the
route by which they marched out to the sortie,
and marking the batteries and forts by the fire
of which they were supported. On arriving at
Champigny, I found the station to be on what had
been the French side of the River Marne, and I
had to cross by a bridge of boats, the beautiful
bridge having, with scores and scores of others,
been blown up on the approach of the Prussians.
It was guarded by Bavarian soldiers, still in posses-
sion hereabouts.

"Champigny is a little village of the common
type of French houses, with a number of detached
houses and gardens of the better sort. It lies quite
near the Marne, on a steepish slope, and extends
naturally rather along the course of the river than

140 THE BATTLEFIELDS

away from it. On the top of the slope you come
to a sort of tableland, which is cultivated and slopes
gently up to other villages, Villiers and Cornilly.
The Prussians held the tableland with its villages,
and their outposts were in Champigny and all
along the river bank, separated from the French
outposts by the river. Well, the French collected
50,000 or 60,000 men quietly on their side, which
they could do quite unknown to the Prussians,
threw bridges of boats across the Marne, and
crossed. Of course there was nothing for the
Prussians (or rather Saxons and Wiirtemburgers)
to do but to retire from Champigny itself, fight-
ing as well as they could. They could not have
any guns in the village, and could not bring
guns to bear upon it from above, because the
plateau was commanded by the French forts and
the great redoubt of La Faisanderie.

"The difficulties of the French really com-
menced when they got out upon the plateau,
because then their own big guns in the distant
forts had to cease firing, for fear of injuring their
own men, and they came under the fire of the
Prussian guns in their redoubts, while the Prussian
infantry could also venture out to meet them in
the open. The result was that the French took
Champigny easily enough, but when they attempted
to force the position on the tableland, they failed,
losing great numbers of men in the attempt.
The worst of the matter for the Prussians was
that they could not afford to allow the French to
remain in Champigny, because that would give
them the opportunity of concentrating on
that side of the river and of attacking during a
fog in some unexpected quarter, and accordingly
they drove them out next morning ; but now it
was their turn to suffer, exposed as they were to
fire from distant big guns in the forts, to field-

CHAMPIGNY 141

guns from the opposite bank, and to infantry
fire. This game went on for three days, causing
great losses to both sides. Champigny, as you
may imagine, was in a dreadfully battered state,
many houses burnt down, others torn to pieces
almost by shells, garden walls levelled, others loop-
holed, marks of musket balls in all directions,
often telling exactly what had been the progress of
the fight at some particular moment.

"After looking through the village, I took the
road leading out of it to the right, which went
obliquely upwards along the edge of the steep
overhanging the river, to the top of the plateau,
and I could see how the Prussians had met the
skirmishers who climbed up the steep, wooded
bank. In a place like that, all the advantages
are with the attacking party coming up the hill,
because they can hide behind trees and in inequali-
ties of the ground, while defenders, in trying to
catch sight of them, are exposed fully to view.
But the Prussians, instead of disputing the ascent,
seem to have constructed little sheltered spots a
little way back from the edge, whence they would
shoot down the French as they attempted to
emerge from the top. Where the road came out
on the plateau stood a single house, which, no
doubt held in turn by each side, had been riddled
with shell. Here, too I first noticed graves —
mounds of earth of varying size, surmounted by
a wooden cross on which was the inscription,
' Hier ruhen 2 Preussen Pioneer,' or ' Sachsen,'
and then, ' Sachsen und Wiirtembiirger ' and 50
or 60 ' Franzosischer ' ; but wherever practicable the
numbers of the French had been painted out, and
the crosses were covered with writing in pencil
threatening vengeance, or abusing Napoleon or
King William, etc.

" I wandered about, gradually making my way

142 THE BATTLEFIELDS

towards Villiers, studying the way in which the
Prussian positions mutually supported each other,
and thinking how hot they must have made it for
the French when they got up there, looking at the
inscriptions on the trenches and mounds that came
in my way, and noting the many scattered about in
the cultivated fields.

" I could not walk fast on account of the heat,
which was terrible, and indeed it was no part of
my plan to get over the ground hurriedly, as I
wanted not merely to see, but to understand. At
Villiers I met with evidence that the French had
got very close up.

" I was now frightfully hungry and almost
fainting, so I hunted about the little town for a
restaurant, and went into the first I met with, and
asked if they could let me have something to eat.
The woman who was serving looked at me not very
kindly, and said they had nothing, and repeated
this answer to my further inquiries. However
I was famished and could not afford to be put off
in that way, so I pointed to some bread and
eggs and cheese, and said that at any rate they
had these, and I must have some. By this time,
too, I think the woman had begun to find out that
I was not a Prussian, and so she set about getting
me something. I accordingly dined off bread and
cheese with a pint of their best wine, for which
altogether I paid the sum of 9d.

" I had still to look over the ground between
Villiers and Brie, where there had also been fight-
ing during this sortie, but on my way I came
across a Bavarian officer sauntering along the road.
I thought there could be no harm in bowing to
him, so I took off my hat and he returned the
compliment, whereupon I spoke to him, and, as
it turned out after a trial of our respective
linguistic acquirements, that we both spoke French

VILLIERS 143

better than he spoke English or I German, we
had a long conversation in French on all sorts of
topics connected with the war. He confirmed my
inferences as to the nature of the battle which
had taken place on the ground on which we
stood, and added many incidents, more particularly
such as illustrated the want of discipline of the
French, for whom he had the greatest contempt.
A battalion was advancing towards Villiers, across
the fields at the roadside along which we were
strolling. ' We sent them,' he said, ' a few boxes
of grape shot from a battery in the garden of my
chateau' (said chateau, which he called his, being
a magnificent country house of which he held
possession as Commandant of Villiers), 'but the
boxes were not good and did not explode soon
enough, passing through three or four companies,
and only bursting among those in the rear instead
of striking the head of the column. However,
the French hearing these explosions behind them
and seeing men fall there, took it into their heads
that they were betrayed, that Trochu was firing
into them from behind, and disbanded the whole
battalion, giving themselves up as prisoners.'

" This officer's personal adventures were remark-
able : he had fought at Woerth, at Gravelotte,
at Sedan, and at various other points. He had
a scar from a sabre cut extending across from
one side of the forehead to the other cheek. At
Sedan he had his leg shattered by a ball, but was
on horseback in a month, and altogether he had
eleven wounds. He was particularly severe on the
French talk of speedy revenge, and said that if
they tried it on, what they had done in the past
war was a joke to what they would do then.
We had among other matters a sharp discussion
on the supply of arms the French got from
England, and I rather shut him up. We parted

144 THE BATTLEFIELDS

very good friends just in time for me to catch the
last train to Paris.

" Next day my excursion was in the other direc-
tion. I went down the Seine, in a little steamboat to
the Point du Jour, the south-west corner of Paris,
where the river emerges from the city, looking
towards Meudon and St Cloud. Here again I was
lucky, as I met with an Englishman who came in
at this point with the Versailles troops when they
overcame the Communists ; this made the journey
down the river interesting. All round the Point du
Jour has been terribly battered, first by the Prussians,
but more by the French ; but the viaduct of the
railway round the interior of Paris, which here
crosses the river, remains uninjured to any serious
extent. The Prussians tried hard to bring it
down, but in vain, though they knocked it about
a good deal. After looking about here, I took
the road by the river side towards Meudon. I was
unable to distinguish what had been done during
the war from what had been done during the
Commune, but I could see that the rifle pits along
the roadside had been dug early in the first siege.
At Bas Meudon, however, I came upon unmistakable
evidences of the Prussians in the shape of German
writing on walls and doors, saying how many men
were to be there. I was astonished to find they
had been so near. Another thing which astonished
me was the great extent of the forts.

" My aim was the Chateau of Meudon, the
country seat of Prince Napoleon, and the terrace
in front of it, from which a magnificent view of
Paris is obtained. I overshot my mark at first,
and got to Bellevue, but as I got a more extensive
and clear knowledge of the parts occupied by the
Prussians, I did not regret it. Eventually I
found the Chateau, which has been terribly
knocked about and partly burnt, and I spent

ST CLOUD 145

some time on the terrace, enjoying the view
which is beautiful beyond description. Near here
were two great Prussian batteries, one now removed,
the other partially. I wished very much to go over
the one in course of demolition, and especially to
get a view from it of Fort Issy, which it had used
very badly ; but, though I marched in with all the
appearance of innocence and unconsciousness of
transgression I could assume, I was turned back by
the sentinels. The Prussians retired from this part
immediately peace was made, and it is in possession
of the French.

"From the Chateau de Meudon I went to
Bellevue, part of the way along what had been a
splendid avenue of trees, all sacrificed to Prussian
tactics. From the terrace of Bellevue again is a
grand sight of Paris and the river. I continued
my walk to Sevres, and as it was now i o'clock,
I had some lunch or breakfast, and what was
equally necessary, a rest and a nap. At Sevres
again were siege works, which filled one with
admiration of the engineering skill of the Prussians.
(I believe the waiter took me for one, he was so
surly, and so unlike French garfons in general.)

"After breakfast I had a look at the bridge,
and then entered the Park of St Cloud, pass-
ing through an encampment of French cavalry.
Ascending the hill, which is covered with fine
trees, I managed to get into a battery in course
of demolition, and I also saw how the Prussians
had thrown obstacles in the way of the French in
their final sortie by felling trees on each side of the
road, in such a way that they lay across each other,
and across the road, with their branches pointing
in the direction the French would have to come.

"After this I went to the Chateau of St
Cloud, the Emperor's summer palace, which with
its surroundings is a complete wreck. It was

K

146 THE BATTLEFIELDS

occupied by the Prussians, but Valerien set fire to
it by shells, and I think from all appearances the
Prussians, as they were not allowed to live in it
quietly, helped to make its destruction as thorough
as possible. At any rate they acted on this
principle with regard to the town of St Cloud.
Experience of the final sortie showed that in the
hands of the French it might be a source of
danger. Accordingly the word went forth for its
destruction, and anything more complete is not
to be imagined. Every single house is burnt,
petroleum having been largely used to make the
work sure. This occurred within a day or two of
the Armistice. I could not go over the whole
of the ground. Of course, the French look upon
the destruction of St Cloud as wanton and un-
necessary, and a woman I talked with there was
furious, but there is no doubt it was a legitimate
act of war.

" I shall always understand battles and military
operations generally much better for this excursion.
The destruction of property of all kinds can only
be realised when it is actually seen, and I speak
now of that done by regular war. At two places,
Asnieres and Argenteuil, five broken bridges were
to be seen at once. As for the wreck done by the
Commune, it is still more fearful to see.

"To describe in detail the mischief I came
across in my walks within Paris would be im-
possible. During the Commune M. Armand-
Delille's house was struck several times by shells ;
one carried away about three yards of a strong iron
balcony, one fragment entering the window of
M. Delille's study, embedding itself bodily in some
large books which it carried with it through a door.
Another shell took off a chimney."

The following letters were written more than a

LUXEMBOURG 147

year later, after a visit to the battlefields of Grave-
lotte and Sedan : —

ToS.

igth September 1872.

" Luxembourg is worth a few lines, on account
of its extraordinary situation and the use to which
this has been turned in fortifications. Approaching
it by rail from Belgium one is conscious of getting
upon high ground, as part of the way is among
beautiful hills, and the line gradually reaches a
watershed, but afterwards there is a smooth,
gently sloping or undulating plain for miles and
miles, which made me suppose for a time that we
must have got imperceptibly to a lower level, only
it struck me that the vegetation was not quite what
I should have expected in that latitude. Up to the
station at Luxembourg there was nothing to un-
deceive me, but walking from the station to the
town, I was astonished to find myself crossing a
ravine 300 or 400 feet deep at least on a viaduct.

"This roused my curiosity, but I could not
make out much that evening as it was already
growing dark, though I found roads into the valley
on two sides, and saw something of the old fortifi-
cations, which are on a gigantic scale. Next
morning I turned out early, and got information
before starting. I went first to a point from which
one looked down a perpendicular cliff, faced by a
thick wall at least 200 feet high, below the foot of
which the ground fell rapidly to the bottom of
the valley below. The morning mist was writhing
and boiling in the valley as one sees it from Alpine
summits. The edge of this precipice had not the
least protection, and I almost trembled to think
how near I had been in the darkness of the night
before.

148 THE BATTLEFIELDS

"Apparently the town stands on a plateau
surrounded by these ravines, and the whole has
been made stronger by walls such as I thought
none but Egyptians had ever built, and in the zig-
zags which lead up from below there are gates
and towers, and complications of walls and defences,
which seem multiplied to an almost ridiculously
unnecessary extent. Luxembourg, you may remem-
ber, was the subject of a quarrel some years ago
between France and Prussia, and was neutralised
by the intermediation of Lord Stanley. It is now
being dismantled and the walls are being pulled
down.

" Arrived at Metz about 10 A.M., I simply secured
a room at the hotel, got a map of the town, and off
I set to the battlefield of Gravelotte, the last of
the three which resulted in the French being shut
up in Metz. It was the only pitched battle, the
others, though quite as bloody, having come on
little by little as Prussians and French could be
brought up. You may imagine what an affair it
was when I tell you that the French line of battle
was about eight miles from end to end, and that
before the end of the day, the Prussians overlapped
them at each extremity.

" My course was on this first day to Amanvillers
and St Privat, north-west of Metz, and eight or nine
miles from the town. The road took me up a high
steep hill between the two great forts of St Quentin
and Plappeville, to both of which the Prussians
are adding largely. Plappeville was quite in my
way, and so I made for the works in course of con-
struction, relying on my nationality to get me out
of any scrape if I were doing wrong. I went right
in among the workmen, as if I had as much busi-
ness there as any of them, took no notice of the
officers who were riding about superintending, and,
as I expected, no one meddled with me.

METZ 149

" Leaving Plappeville, I found myself on a high
tableland with a wooded valley on each hand —
Metz behind me and a limitless plain beyond the
city to eastward, with the Moselle winding through
it — not a soul to be seen one way or another, a
very doubtful track for road, but I was sure of
my direction.

" After a while I saw a man far on my right going
in a direction which would bring his path and mine
together, so I timed my walk to be at the point of
junction, some two miles off or more, at the same
moment. It was a lucky hit. I began by inquiring
my way to Amanvillers, following this up by a series
of questions, answered civilly but coldly. I made
it known that I was English, and pursued my
questions till the evident sullenness was overcome,
and then I got most interesting information.

" This man had been in the 3ieme Chasseurs —
had fought at Forbach, Borny, and Gravelotte, been
shut up in Metz, and gone with the rest prisoner to
Germany. He was very intelligent — showed the
position of the French and Germans with perfect
accuracy — showed me where he was posted in the
distance, and described his part in the battle
without any bombast, and indeed with the simplicity
of a brave man who had only done his duty.

" Very soon the subject came up which I found
was uppermost in everybody's thoughts about
Metz. By October ist, all the inhabitants have to
become Germans or leave the country, and this
poor fellow, a native of a neighbouring village, was
debating what to do. He was making a comfort-
able living where he was, but to stay and live under
the Germans and be a German was out of the
question. . . .

" I went on to St Privat. A stronger position
than that held by the French here is not conceivable.
For one or two miles or more the ground slopes

150 THE BATTLEFIELDS

gently down without obstruction or shelter of any
kind — no hedge, no fence, no cover for a single
man except the poplars along each side of the
road. Along the top was a road slightly hollowed ;
or, when this was not quite in the line for the
French, a shallow trench was dug, in which the
men could lie down and shoot the Prussians as
they came, in almost perfect safety, while their
own artillery could fire over them from behind,
showing nothing but the muzzles of the guns.
No living soul ought to have got up that slope,
and how the Prussians fell in trying is shown
by the graves, which were positively appalling.
All those dead, and a corresponding number of
wounded — the ground must literally have been
covered. And yet it was at this end of the line
that the French were defeated — not from want of
bravery on the part of the soldiers, but from sheer
incapacity and neglect on the part of the generals.
They allowed the Saxons to get round the end of
their line along a distant valley — come up on the
high ground, and take them in flank — and it could
so easily have been prevented. Once there, the
execution among the French was fearful.

" While I was walking in the fields here, an
old fellow shouted to me from the road, whom I
took to be an aggrieved farmer, but it turned
out to be the town-crier of Briey, who was bursting
with information. He could name every village
in sight, pointed out the exact route of the
Saxons, and the spot by which they emerged.
Finding in me a sympathetic and appreciative
audience, he added to his description of places a
highly imaginative account of events ; and when
he had made 300 Frenchmen kill 10,000 Germans,
who lay a yard thick of dead round the chateau
the French were defending, I bid him good-
morning and walked towards a monument in course

GRAVELOTTE 151

of erection to the Prussian Guard, where I saw a
priest and some workmen.

" His parish comprised the villages St Marie aux
Chenes, Batilly, and another from which the
Prussian advance up the slope started, and he dwelt
with pleasure on their losses.

" They made three distinct attempts, which all
failed till the flanking movement had taken effect.

" From this point I crossed the battlefield
obliquely towards the south. At one point the
graves were even thicker than below St Privat.
These graves are marked by large square mounds,
with a white cross on which is an inscription to the
effect that ' Here rest in God brave soldiers, faithful
to the death.' These crosses are new, and have
replaced the rough ones which gave the number of
dead there lying. The numbers, French and
German, would have made it more interesting,
but it is only here and there in remote parts that
the old crosses remain. I found my way across
country to a ruin above Chatel-St-Germain — thence
down a steep vine-clad hill to the valley at a point
six or seven miles from Metz, part of which I got
over on an omnibus driven by a woman, next to
whom I sat. Her husband was gone into France
out of the way of October ist, leaving her with
two children and five horses, and so she had to take
to driving the bus herself.

" Next morning I was out betimes on my way to
Gravelotte, nearly at the southern end of the battle-
field and about six miles west of Metz. I had to
walk along the flat, dusty road in the valley for
3j miles or so, then I turned to my right and got
up through the vineyards to the high ground on
which the mass of the French left was stationed.
Here I had a splendid view of this part of the
position. I could not give any adequate idea of
it, and must be content with describing a small

152 THE BATTLEFIELDS

portion near Gravelotte, where the main fighting
took place.

" At the right of the French position, as I told
you, the ground falls in an even, gentle slope, but
about opposite their centre a stream begins, which
gets gradually nearer the French line and rapidly
cuts a valley which is steep and wooded. At Grave-
lotte this valley is a good depth and comes close
up to the French position, and, in fact, it separated
the French and Prussians during a great part of
the day.

" Gravelotte is on the Prussian side of the
ravine, 200 or 300 yards from the margin. On the
French edge was a farmhouse and little inn called
St Hubert. The task the Prussians had here was
to carry the position of St Hubert, and time
after time they descended from Gravelotte and
tried to rush up the opposite side. The French
had mitrailleuses and guns so placed as to sweep
the cutting along which they had to come — their
infantry were hid from the fire, by which the
Prussians tried to clear their way, in the valley
which runs down by Rozerieulles to Metz, which
ends just at this point, and were ready to come
up at the proper moment. Every attempt was
foiled, and at 6.30 P.M. so far were the Prussians
from succeeding here, that the French had actually
crossed the ravine in the face of the Prussians, and
had driven them out of Gravelotte. This I have
from a German officer who was with the King, and
who pointed out the only house they still held, a
little beyond the rest of the village. The King
had to be dragged into the woods out of the way
of the shells.

" I was not able to make out the exact state
of matters here at 9 or 9.30 P.M., when the firing
ceased, the accounts being so contradictory. Of
course the Prussians had not only tried to force

GRAVELOTTE 153

their way along the road, but they had pushed on
through the woods, in which somehow they always
got the better of the French ; but when they tried
to get out of the woods upon the open ground
beyond, they always failed, at any rate till late on
in the evening, when an entire new Prussian division
of nearly 30,000 Pomeranians, under Fransecky,
pushed through the Bois de Vaux to the French
left of the contested road, and weakened their
hold upon it very seriously. Some Uhlans, too,
managed to get through the wood on the French
right of the road, where the valley was not so
deep, and they charged for the mitrailleuses and
guns, which had done so much mischief, taking
them in flank, or rather thinking to do so ; but a
more unlucky charge never was, for, while gallop-
ing across at the guns, they were edged off to their
right by the fire of infantry, and so, without know-
ing it, forced to cross the road where the cutting
was, instead of above it, as they intended, and two
entire squadrons went headlong into the cutting.
Of course, those who fell into the cutting were all
killed — some got across above it.

"There are many Prussian graves and some
monuments behind St Hubert, and, no doubt,
many got so far and fell there ; but whether the
monuments are intended to signify that they held
that ground at the end of the battle or not, I
cannot tell. I do not think they did, but that they
expected to have to fight for it next day.

" However, the French evacuated the entire
position in the night, and were never good for
much in the way of fighting afterwards. They
had completely lost confidence in their officers
and generals. It would not have been so difficult
to break out of Metz afterwards as I had sup-
posed, and I am quite sure the French could have
done it ; but the point was not whether they

154 THE BATTLEFIELDS

could pierce the lines of investment, but whether
they could hold together afterwards long enough
to reach a place of safety, notwithstanding the
Prussian pursuit. This they could not have done,
but it would have been better to try and fail, and
be taken prisoners, than to remain and consume
the provisions of the fortress, which, but for this,
could have held out, I was going to say, till now.

" To return to my personal proceedings, I went
from Gravelotte northwards, by Malmaison where
the Prussian guns had stood, which the Chasseur
talked about, just to the west of the wooded
ravine, towards VerneVille, from which the
Prussians had advanced to the attack on Montigny-
la - Grange and Amanvillers, the French centre.
Then I crossed the little valley, now no longer
wooded, and only very shallow, to the French
position, meeting my previous day's work and com-
pleting my study of the battlefield.

"There is a large farm establishment in the
valley, the garden walls of which were just as
they had been left after the battle, loop-holed
for musketry, and with great jagged chasms
made by shells. The farmhouse and buildings
which had been battered down were rebuilt.

" My principal conversations this day were one
with an old woman whom I found digging potatoes
on the high ground above Rozerieulles, who told
me that the French had encamped on that very
spot, and had completely eaten up her potatoes and
oats. She was chiefly concerned as to the question
of the indemnity she was to receive, which had
been promised to all, whether their property had
been destroyed by French or German troops.
Next to that came the date of their restoration
to France, and whether the Prussian rule was so
very dreadful. She was a pleasant, shrewd old
soul.

REZONVILLE 155

" Another was with a couple of children — a boy
and girl of 12 or 14 — the boy was going to France,
but in his case a journey of three or four miles was
all that was necessary, the frontier being very near.
They were both in the village during the battle.

" I got down to Chatel-St-Germain, and had
my evening ride on the bus and very entertaining
talk with my fellow-travellers. I had another day
at Metz on my return from Sedan. I took the
train to Ars sur Moselle, a few miles south of
Metz, and walked thence towards Gravelotte, in
order to see what the Prussians had had to do
in order to head the French and prevent their
getting away. The French were beginning to
withdraw to Verdun, and had a good and straight
road before them — the Prussians wanted to prevent
it, but were compelled to go round Metz, and to
cross the Moselle, 12, 15, or 20 miles south. Of
course, this gave the French a great start. How-
ever, on the 1 4th August, a large mass of the
French were still east of Metz — so near as not
to dream of being attacked — but the Prussians
with one army went at them furiously, simply for
the purpose of retarding their march, while
another army, Prince Frederick Charles', was
pushing on to intercept them. The purpose was
attained, though not so effectually as the Prussians
hoped, for, on the i6th, the French were at
Gravelotte, Rezonville, and Vionville on their way
to Verdun, while only a small part of Prince
Frederick Charles' army was on their path.
Attack them they must, however, at any cost,
if they were to be prevented from effecting their
escape, and thus came about the battle of the
1 6th, called by the French Gravelotte, by the
Germans Rezonville. Here the French, superior
in numbers, more than held their ground — the
Prussian left going into action tired by a long

156 THE BATTLEFIELDS

march, were really badly beaten, but a tremendous
cavalry charge was made to divert the French, and
another attack by the Prussian right, which, with
such generals as the French had, succeeded in
their object, and the French did not push their
advantage. Then, to crown all, there was no food
to be had for the poor soldiers after a long day's
fighting, and they had to be withdrawn nearer
Metz to the position of St Privat-Gravelotte, leav-
ing their dead and wounded on the ground.

" I wanted then to see through what sort of
country and by what kind of roads the Prussians
had come up. It was really astonishing. Two
or three hundred men might have delayed them
for days. Of course, the cavalry have to ascertain
that the way is clear. Well, almost every road
is along a deep valley, with steep, wooded sides,
where a few men, in perfect safety from pursuit,
might have been concealed, and have picked off
the horse-soldiers as they cautiously advanced
along the road below. A few were so shot, and
in those particular valleys the Prussians did not
advance till some days after they had flooded all
the others, and emerged on the open plateau beyond.

"That cavalry charge on the i6th must have
been magnificent — the ground level for miles —
the very place for cavalry. It was splendidly
delivered and carried out, but it cost the Prussians
very dear.

"On this visit I returned to Metz with two
Germans who would insist on my taking a seat
in their carriage.

" But I must get on to Sedan, which, though
fortified, is a woollen manufacturing town. It was
intended, when fortified, to protect or prevent the
passage of the Meuse, and lies across the river,
and therefore low. There are hills all round —
on the north, the fortifications extend to the high

SEDAN 157

ground — on the south and east and west there
is an alluvial plain of some extent, but modern
artillery can reach any part of the town or works
across this from the hills on the south.

" MacMahon, on his way to the relief of
Metz, hoped he was walking round the Prussians
marching on Paris, by his dttour to the north, but
here found himself confronted, and prepared to cut
his way through the opposing army. His direc-
tion was eastward, but the Prussians having got
between him and the Belgian frontier, he had to
face north-east, and everything was against him
— his troops ill-disciplined, the ground unfavour-
able— so that his task was hopeless, putting out
of the question the second Prussian army which
was closing in upon him from the south. He
went at the enemy in front, and while he was
fighting them, the other army occupied all the
elevations south and east, and sent masses of
men against both his flanks.

" Beaten in front, his men rushed into the
town ; some who had been kept together tried to
get away south or west, but found the Prussians
in position everywhere. Then there was a
scene such as I suppose the world has rarely
ever witnessed — the town was the common
refuge, and the streets were seething masses of
desperate men, shouting, cursing, drinking, plun-
dering, while all the time the Prussians were
pouring in shells from every side. After the
surrender it took several days to restore order or
anything like it.

" My first walk was across the plain to the
south towards Donchery, which took me past the
Chateau of Belle Vue, where the Emperor and the
King of Prussia had their interview, and past the
weaver's cottage — uncommonly like one of those at
'Stoops,' only a little way back from the road —

158 THE BATTLEFIELDS

where Bismarck met the Emperor ; then at Donchery
I turned up the hill from which the King of Prussia
had watched the battle. Here I could follow the
entire scene of the fighting, and I spent an hour or
more studying the ground by the aid of my map
and glass.

"Afterwards I had a long walk across country
to another spot more immediately overlooking
Bazeilles. The country is not so wild as I had
expected from what I had heard and read of the
Ardennes. There are magnificent views and a
great deal of wood. Wolves and wild boars are
still found, and had, I heard, been very troublesome
this year. I saw nothing more formidable than a
wild cat.

" I was forcibly reminded of Longwood in the
outskirts of Sedan by a woman, neither neat nor
clean, who came out of a weaver's house and
screamed out for a child, as I have heard them
at New Row or Stoops. They have a fearful
dialect, too, about Sedan. Manufacturers and
screaming women and uncouth dialects seem to
go together.

" In another walk I took the north side of the
town, having, on my way, a regular wander over
the Citadel. It was forbidden, of course, and
everything but the joists of a sort of bridge had
been removed to render it impossible, but I walked
along a joist and encountered nothing worse than
a stare. One grateful recollection of Sedan is of
two pleasant swims in the Meuse.

" The only other battlefield I went over was
that of Forbach, as the French call it, Saarbriick
according to the Germans. The battle was on
August 6th, the same day as Woerth, but further
north. Saarbriick was the only German town the
French entered, and was the scene of the Emperor
and his son's exploit. Lulu is the German nick-

SAARBRUCK 159

name for the Prince Imperial, and they have erected
a stone on the spot from which he fired a gun at
the Saarbruck Railway Station, which they call the
' Lulu Stein.' After occupying Saarbruck for a few
days, the French withdrew on the approach of the
Germans, and took up a position on the heights
of Spicheren, which the latter attacked and stormed,
though in inferior numbers.

" These heights are a range of hills which look
extremely formidable, and, at first sight, it would
seem madness to attempt to climb any part in face
of an enemy. The very steepness, however, is a dis-
advantage to defenders, and there were one or two
elements of weakness which the Germans at once saw
and took advantage of. One was that a spur of
the hill in the French centre projected considerably
beyond the rest, and its slope could not well be
commanded from other parts of the hill, especially
as on one side the hills were wooded, and so artillery
could not be employed — then this projection per-
mitted a number of batteries in the plain around its
base to converge their fire upon it, while, as I have
said before, its sides were steep and irregular.

" Irregularities on a steep hill permit the assail-
ants to find shelter from time to time as they climb
up — then when a hill is very steep, there is a region
just about its base which is almost quite safe.
Artillery fire goes over the heads of the men
who have arrived here, while the foot-soldiers
on the summit are too busy with those men at
hand to attend to them, so that they can stand
there and fire at the defenders. This is what
the Prussians did, but they would not have suc-
ceeded if they had not also found a way through
the wood on the French right, and dragged up a
couple of guns. There was another battle on the
tableland at the summit after the steep had been
climbed. The graves on the summit and around

160 IDEAS ON THE WAR

the base of the spur I have mentioned show where
the fiercest fighting was.

" The rest of my journey was to Strasburg,
where I arrived late at night and had to go wander-
ing about the streets in search of an hotel, the one
I intended going to being full. I had some amusing
talks with the half-tipsy porter who acted as my
guide, and who had had three ribs broken during
the siege.

" I was greatly pleased with the Cathedral, and
went to the top of the spire, the highest in the
world. Just at the top, before going into the
lantern, one has to go quite outside of everything,
standing on a stone about the size of a hat crown
and holding on to an iron bar.

" From Strasburg I went to Heidelberg, thence
to Mannheim, where I took the steamer down the
Rhine to Cologne, spending a night at Bingen. I
was charmed with Heidelberg and had a beautiful
walk near Bingen. There is no single spot equal
to the Wye near Chepstow.

" I had time for a short visit to the Cathedral
of Mayence, which I like very much, but my admira-
tion is entirely monopolised by that of Cologne ; I
do not know when I have been so impressed by a
work of human hands and brain. It is stupendous
in its proportions and surpassingly beautiful.

" My ideas on the war have been greatly
modified — the French soldiers fought as well as
ever, their generals were utterly incapable. I have
better hopes of the nation if they can but agree on
some form of government and take a salutary lesson
from their overthrow. Frenchmen seem univer-
sally to put their party before their country.

"It was very distressing to see the suffering
caused by the change of nationality in the annexed
provinces. Thousands upon thousands are sub-
mitting to utter ruin, rather than be accounted

METZ UNDER THE GERMANS 161

Germans, and see their sons in the German army.
Metz, a sort of petty capital, rich, gay, cheerful,
and busy, will be almost deserted. Property of
all kinds is selling for next to nothing — nearly all
the houses and shops were to let, and everybody
seemed depressed and sad. It is a cruel thing.
Altogether, the Prussian rule is too hard. It would
be unendurable to us, and must become so to the
Germans. Either it will have to be relaxed, or
there will be, sooner or later, an upheaval in
Germany which will overturn King and Kaiser,
and perhaps uproot society. There are some terrible
elements in Germany."

To J. E.

ijth April 1873.

" You will have heard of my little excursion to
Sedan, Metz, Strasburg, and the Rhine last
autumn.

" I had come to the conclusion that the French
defeats were almost as much due to the demoralisa-
tion of the men as to negligence and bad general-
ship in the officers — that, in fact, the corruption of
the Empire had got down to the people. I do
not even now understand how the French were
beaten at Saarbriick, where they had superior
numbers and a splendid position ; but at Gravelotte
they fought splendidly, and the battle was lost
by sheer imbecility.

" What interested me as much as anything and
engaged my sympathies, was the option of exile or
Prussian citizenship forced upon the Lorrainers and
Alsacians. The sufferings and sacrifices of which
I heard were terrible. The Prussians have a brutal
way with them somehow or other, and the most
intolerable specimen of human being I have ever
met is the small Prussian official.

L

162 PRUSSIAN OFFICIALISM

" I cannot understand how men can stand the
meddlesome Prussian Government, and the domin-
eering Prussian officials. In South Germany things
are different, and in my opinion Prussia will have
to be Germanised, or there will be an explosion
there some day which will shame the French
Revolution."

CHAPTER IX

34 SEYMOUR STREET

Removes to No. 34 Seymour Street. Full Physician at St Mary's
and Lecturer on Medicine. Income and Prospects. Re-edits
Tanner's Practice of Medicine. Death of Butterworth Broadbent.
Progress in his Profession. His Children. Letters to them.

IN 1872 he moved into a larger and more con-
venient house, 34 Seymour Street, which became
his home for the next twenty years. It was his
deliberate choice to remain in a neighbourhood
which was not recognised as the proper habitat for
a consulting physician, and it is evident that he
thought little of his own comfort, and did not fore-
see the future development of his practice, for his
consulting room was very small and inconvenient,
and the house was chosen more for the light and
sunshine in the upper rooms than with any
special regard to his own accommodation, although
it was, no doubt, much superior to that in which
he had spent the first twelve years of his life in
London.

He had given the time he proposed to strictly
scientific work, and, as he had anticipated, his
practice began to increase, and he was soon free

163

164 34 SEYMOUR STREET

from serious anxiety as to his future success,
provided that his health remained good.

In his own immediate family circle life was
uneventful, but the year 1873 was saddened by the
death of his favourite brother, Butterworth, and
from that time onwards he shared in the trials and
anxieties of his sisters at Longwood caused by the
failing health of his father and mother.

For months at a time he took the journey to
Yorkshire every week, leaving London on Saturday
evening, and returning on Sunday night, a heavy
tax on his time and strength during a period when
he was working at high pressure, and was preparing
lectures and pamphlets, as well as engaged in bring-
ing out a new edition of Tanner's Practice of
Medicine* a task which he welcomed at first as
a means of making money, but would have refused
had he known how rapidly his practice would
increase.

The letters are still written for the most part to
his brother in India : —

July 1871.

" To return to matters personal to ourselves —
the principal one is the impending change of house.
The lease for this expires at Christmas, and besides
the expense of removing, I shall have to face a
much higher rent. My choice wavers between one
at .£200 a year, between this and Edgware Road,
and another nearer Portman Square, larger, much
better looking, but less comfortably arranged, at
^210 a year, with a premium of £500 on entrance.
Appearance is, of course, of some importance — not

LITERARY WORK 165

that I care for it in itself — but it has a higher
commercial value in my profession, and the better
appearance and position of the more expensive
house make it really the cheaper.

" Dr Turnbull has retired from the Huddersfield
Infirmary, and many Huddersfield men of influence
were wishful for me to go there. I could have
begun to make ^1500 a year at once, and it was a
question with me whether I should not do better
for the children to forgo my London career and
take to making money. It seemed to me probable
also that I should save a greater number of lives at
Huddersfield, and make a greater present difference
to the community there than here, but I hope my
work will have an influence long after I am dead.

" My decision was made on what I believe were
proper and sufficient grounds, and with a sincere
looking for direction from above. Father's unhesi-
tating advice to continue the struggle in London
was an important element in it.

" I ought to tell you that I am now full physician
at St Mary's, and Lecturer on Medicine instead of
on Physiology."

April 1873.

" Last year I made over ^1000 ; it will take all
that and more to keep straight, even without a
carriage, which has now become a necessity.

" However, I have got some literary work to do
which will pay for the first year of the carriage, and
after that I hope there will be no serious difficulty.
This literary work is to re-edit Tanner's Practice of
Medicine. I had never even looked into it when
the proposal was made to me. It involves no end
of work, but the pay is good, and the work is what
I ought to do but never should have done — that is,
to go over carefully the whole range of medical
science and practice, and read all the more important

166 LETTSOMIAN PROFESSOR

monographs which have been published within the
last few years. It involves a considerable amount
of labour, but I do not allow it to monopolise my
energies. I have written various papers lately.

" I have also been nominated Lettsomian
Professor of the Medical Society for the next year.
I have to give a few lectures, and they will furnish
a favourable opportunity of bringing out my views
and observations on certain diseases of the nervous
system.

" I should like to hear that you are working at
native languages. Some of the best careers may
be closed to you unless you are something of a
linguist, and in any position you must get your
knowledge of native affairs and native feelings at
second hand.

" I should have liked a little holiday this Easter,
and should have been all the better for it, as I
always feel rather done up at this time of the year,
but there were various small obstacles, so that I
have not been away.

"The effects of overwork with me are chiefly
sleeplessness and a feeling of irritability. Just now,
too, I am having a slack time which worries me. I
very rarely undertake a letter when in this mood,
and congratulate myself on overcoming the inertia
which attends it so far as to write this. My refuge
from worry and anxiety is dogged work."

To J. E.

•zydjuly 1873.

" I am relieved to think that my letter will not
be the first to bring you the sad tidings of Butter-
worth's death. The best among us to be taken
first ! The very centre and pivot of the family.

" We have had the privilege of watching at his
bedside during his last hours, and witnessing his

DEATH OF BROTHER 167

triumph over death and the grave, and, agonising as
it was, there is no one privilege of our lives past and
to come which we would not rather have lost, and
we must tell you all we can. Looking back for
some little time, it seems as if everything had been
converging to this — to us — terrible event, and
preparing for it. In my own mental history there
are phases which this alone interprets.

" I was sent for on Friday afternoon." . . .
[Then follows a description of the illness.]

" I left only just to take sufficient rest to enable
me to go on nursing him. It will always be a
subject of thankfulness that I was with him — the
tender affection hid in both our hearts was brought
out anew ; we reverted to the terms of endearment
and affection used in boyhood, almost forgotten
since then ; he reminded me that it was nearly
twenty years since I had nursed him through
typhoid fever. His fortitude under all his suffer-
ings was superhuman, not a single murmur — not a
sign of giving way — courage undaunted and incap-
able of being daunted ; in this respect alone, if there
had been none other, he was an honour to human
nature.

" On Tuesday night there was another delusive
gleam of hope. But during the night his strength
began to ebb so fast that I felt I dare not conceal
from him any longer my fears. How I ever had
the courage to tell him that I could hope for his
recovery no longer, I cannot tell, and I cannot now
recollect the words in which I did so. I know I was
kneeling at his bedside — our hands locked, as they
mostly were. For some minutes there was silence
— I could hear both our hearts beating, but there
was no change of countenance, no inquiring look to
see what I really meant, as I had expected, and
after a time I commanded myself so far as to say,
' Did you understand me, lad ? ' ' Oh yes, quite,' he

168 DEATH OF BROTHER

answered. At length he began, thinking as usual
of our interests first, ' About the mills, I think the
best thing will be — ' But this was more than I
could stand. . . .

" We loved Butterworth, but we little knew what
a brother we had till his pure, self-denying life was
proved by his noble death.

" To go down to the edge of the river with one
like Butterworth clears one's ideas as to the realities
of our existence, and shifts one's point of view con-
siderably of things present and future."

To Mrs C.

" I do not think I gave you any particulars of
my brother's last days and hours, and I do not
think that now I ever can. Such fortitude in
suffering, such prompt and unhesitating and even
cheerful acceptance of God's will when he knew that
the end was near, and this so much against his
expectations — such thought, not only for his own,
but for the Sunday School and the many young
men in whom he was religiously interested, and
such an absolute triumph over all that was death-
like in death, I had never seen or imagined. His
funeral was a poem. Carried — his coffin covered
with flowers — from the house to the chapel by
young men who owed under God whatever of
good was in them to his example and teaching —
followed by an uninvited crowd of men of all ages
drawn together by regard and respect — met at the
little chapel by another crowd — the hard Yorkshire
faces disturbed by unwonted emotion — such a
testimony few receive or earn. Hearts get nearer
together in little country places, and we pay dearly
for our culture in the centres of civilisation at
the expense of the grand elementary feelings of
humanity."

OVERWORK 169

The letters continue to his brother in India : —

Dec. 1873.

"Arthur has astonished me. In the three or
four weeks which followed Butterworth's death, he
grew from boyhood into manhood. His firmness
and strength of character and the maturity of his
judgment are wonderful.

" I am glad to say I am getting on. My
receipts this year, up to the present date, come to
about ^1000. I expected when I definitely started
my brougham in May, that the first year or two
would show a deficit, but I shall quite meet the
additional expense at once. It would have been a
great mistake to postpone the carriage — indeed, I
could not have got on without it. Mandham is my
coachman, and we get on very well together. I
have been appointed consulting physician to a new
Assurance Company at an annual fee o

Mandham Spendlove had been with him as
page boy when he first set up house in London,
and came back to him as coachman when he began
to keep a carriage, remaining in his service till
1898, when an attack of bronchitis, aggravated by
the old man's determination to allow no one but
himself to drive his master, carried him off after
a very short illness.

To J. E.

•znd September 1874.

" I have been long in replying to your letter, but
you would not blame me if you knew the state of
prostration to which I was reduced by overwork.
I told you that I had undertaken to re-edit a large

170 SWISS TOUR

book. It was a formidable task and took all my
time, so that I could not have the kind of rest
which change of occupation affords.

" The result was a state of the nervous system
in which truly the grasshopper was a burden, and
to do anything which could by any possibility be
left undone was beyond my power. I struggled
through my task and got off for a holiday to
Switzerland, which I am thankful to say has com-
pletely reinstated me in health.

" You will no doubt hear from home the details
of our visit. It was resolved upon rather suddenly,
very much on Arthur's account, who has more work
and care and anxiety than are good for him. I
urged it strongly, knowing what a help a Swiss
tour is.

" We were just the right number — five." [His
wife, two sisters, and his youngest brother accom-
panied him.] " Sarah and Arthur went by Grimsby
and Antwerp, the rest of us by Dover and Ostend,
our rendezvous being Brussels. We met on Friday,
July 3ist, saw Brussels and Waterloo; Sunday,
Cologne ; Monday, up the Rhine to Bingen ;
Tuesday, a walk in the Niederwald, then on to
Heidelberg ; Wednesday, to Schaffhausen through
the Black Forest ; Thursday, by Zug and Arth to
the top of the Rigi — not much view that night, but
next morning a glorious sunrise."

ToS.

yotk October 1874.

" Distance and multitudinous occupations seem
to keep our lives a good deal apart, but notwith-
standing the infrequency of occasions calling for the
manifestation of our family affection, and in spite of
the old maxim, De non apparentibus et de non
extstentibus eadem est ratio, I know it is there on
both sides.

MEDICAL SCHOOL FOR WOMEN 171

"Our little out together in the summer was
delightful, and I hope it will not be the last of the
kind. It seemed quite to freshen up the old
brotherly and sisterly relationships.

"We had a grand battle on Tuesday in our
Medical School Committee on the question of the
connection of some of our lecturers with the Medical
School for Women. I do not lecture there, but I
am on the Council. The majority of the Committee
were against the Ladies Medical School, and we
were asked to reconsider our connection with it.
Of course we shall not abandon it. For a wonder,
the debate was carried on without loss of temper.

" On Wednesday evening I assisted at another
interesting discussion about the Hospital Saturday
Fund. There has been a good deal of talk about
hospital abuse and the way in which hospitals
encourage improvidence in the working classes, and
Mr Hamilton Hoare invited a few representative
men to dinner to discuss the matter."

To J. E.

24//fc October 1874.

" I confess that I am remiss in correspondence,
and I dare not make big promises of amendment.
I am hoping for the day when I shall only have to
reap the fruits of my work. At present, though the
harvest has begun, the seed-time is not over. I am
thankful to say that in reputation and prospects I
stand abreast with the best of my contemporaries,
and in front of most. I am far from attributing this
to my own exertions or merits. No one says more
sincerely non nobis Domine, non nobis, but still my
continued exertions are a condition of my continued
success, and I feel I have also something to say
which will be of use to my generation : like Cole-
ridge's Ancient Mariner, I have a tale to tell.

172 CHILDREN

" Then in a few years, if years be granted me, I
hope to give the social element in my character a
chance of development, and to show what I have
never failed to feel an undiminished family affection
and love.

" My edition of Tanner's Medicine appears to
be very well received. The sale is almost un-
exampled for the time. I have another book to
edit for the same publisher which will require
about one-tenth the work, and brings one-half the
payment, namely, ^150. I hoped and intended to
devote myself to strictly original and scientific
work for some time, but I could not quite afford
to refuse this."

The next few letters touch on his feeling with
regard to children : —

To J. E.

$th December 1873.

" I sincerely wish you both every happiness in
your little girl. An old German lady, whose grand-
children I was attending, said one day, ' Children
bring always cares — little cares when they are
little — great cares when they are bigger,' and
there is an Italian saying, that they give head-
aches when they are small, heartaches when they
are grown up ; but in my experience the pleasure
and happiness have far outweighed the cares and
anxieties, and I hope and believe this will be the
case with you.

" I have sometimes said that the common reflec-
tion, how much children owe to their parents is, in
one sense, unfounded, since they pay as they go
along for all the trouble expended upon them. Of
course this does not apply to the debt of gratitude
and love we owe to our parents, but is merely a sort

PREFERENCE FOR BOYS 173

of protest against the notion that children are
nothing but trouble. Life is incomplete without
them, and the purest and most unselfish form of
love unknown ; better have them to love if we lose
them in infancy, or childhood, or when the blow is
heaviest — in their prime, than never know that love
at all.

" When one comes to have five of them running
about the house one gets a little case-hardened and
does not think so much of a new advent, but I can
even yet sympathise with the flutter your little girl
appears to have set up in your breast.

" I prefer boys, theoretically ; they are an outlet
for ambition and a kind of ground-plan for schemes,
which girls are not. Besides, girls only tell on the
world, as a rule, in the next generation but one,
and there is need for workers in the present and
immediate future.

" Vanity of vanities, I must add — as if I, or
mine, could hope to make any appreciable difference
to the world's condition.

" But to come back to the point, I think it is
good for the first child to be a girl ; she becomes a
civilising influence, and an aide-de-camp to the
mother. All this would naturally be a prelude to
an account of each of our youngsters, but I am
afraid their praises would fall flat on Dora's and
your ears now that you have baby."

During these earlier years before the pressure of
professional work became so heavy as to allow no
time for recreation, he had his children with him
whenever it was possible, and even in London tried
to imbue them with his own keen love for nature,
and with the habits of close and accurate observa-
tion which gave an added interest to the holidays in

174 CHILDREN

the country, and made the walks in the parks a
constant pleasure to them and to him.

He always felt that it was a deprivation to them
that they could not be brought up among the hills
and woods which he loved so well, and he made it a
practice to show them the beautiful surroundings of
London, and to give them every opportunity of
becoming acquainted with trees and plants and
animals.

Every spring there was an expedition to
Richmond and Bushey Park to see the chestnuts in
flower, and to Kew Gardens when the azaleas and
rhododendrons were a blaze of colour, or when the
wild hyacinths recalled the blue mist of the wood-
land so familiar to the country child. Another
annual excursion was to Greenwich by steamboat,
and here an interest in history was roused by the
visits to the Naval Museum with its relics of Nelson.

Although there was never a scrap of garden
attached to any of the houses in which he lived in
London, the children were allowed to have an
extraordinary variety of pets, and their affection
for animals was encouraged to have full play.
There was, of course, a long succession of dogs ;
but, in addition, almost every possible kind of
creature was at some time or other an inhabitant
of the nursery, and many of them developed a
wonderful degree of intelligence. Guinea-pigs,
dormice, squirrels, birds of many kinds, frogs, a
hen which cleared the kitchen of black beetles and
laid excellent eggs, and a monkey, which had at

LETTERS TO CHILDREN 175

last to be transferred to the Zoo, were among the
companions of the children, who were also taught
to watch the habits of spiders, found in the park,
and the transformation of caterpillars into chrysalis
and butterfly.

Letters to his children in these early years
show the way in which he entered into their feelings
and shared their point of view : —

34 SEYMOUR STREET,
iindjuly 1875.

" MY DEAREST MAY, — I do not think you have
quite forgotten papa and you know there is no fear
of his forgetting you, but if we never write to each
other when we are separated we might almost as
well be forgotten.

" John is very quiet and all his wild buoyant
spirits seem to be gone — poor boy. I see as much
of him as I can, but he pines for the country and
misses you and the other children.

" I know I have no need to tell my May to be
good. Papa is very happy in being always sure
that you will not be troublesome ; but I want you
to be good in all ways, trying to be useful to grand-
mamma and aunties, thinking always how you can
save them trouble, and do things for them, even if
it prevents you from reading an interesting book.
Then I wish you to improve your mind as well as
enjoy yourself while you are in the country, learning
something every day of flowers and plants, about
insects and birds. You can read books in London ;
you must read nature while at Longwood."

ystjuly 1877.

" I hope you are also obtaining knowledge ;
there must be many plants in the woods and fields

176 CHILDREN

of which you do not know the names, and the
stone in Uncle H.'s quarries will teach you a good
deal if you take notice how it is arranged and ask
questions. You remember all those rocks once
formed a sea beach or a sea bottom, and I have
seen on the flags dug out the marks of birds' feet,
or of raindrops made when it was soft sand. Layer
after layer was deposited, and there it remained till
covered up by a great thickness and compressed
into solid rock.

" G. and M. are very good and very happy.

" Both Sundays I have taken them in the after-
noon to the Botanical Gardens, and on the Saturdays
they have been to the Zoo.

"Yesterday I had to go to Battersea, and so I
took them to see the sub -tropical garden in Battersea
Park. You must go sometime. It is very
beautiful."

34 SEYMOUR STREET,
1878.

" MY DARLING MAY, — You will like to hear news
of Tiny and your other pets. The squirrels, I
believe, are in existence ; so at least I am told, and
I have heard the rapid vibration of tl.jir scratching,
but they are gone from your room I know not
whither. The birds, too, I hear ; and as Walter
is busy winding silk, I both see and hear a good
deal about silkworms. Tiny is really distinguishing
herself. Now that everybody else is away she attaches
herself to me and, as a patient said the other morning,
assists at the consultations. On Saturday morning
she looked so unhappy as I was going out,
that I took her with me in the victoria to the
Fever Hospital. It was not much of my Times
that I was able to read, for she would stand as near
the edge as she possibly could, stretching her neck
to see everything, sometimes slipping and nearly
falling out, and at others sorely tempted, as I could

LETTERS TO CHILDREN 177

see, to jump out. My whole time was taken up
warning and scolding her. At the hospital, of
course, she went round the wards with me, amusing
the patients very much by her inquiries. She had
an adventure with a cat, too. Ti. was trotting
along meaning no mischief and rather going aside
to pass the cat, but the cat did not see her till they
were quite near each other, and so was startled. It
did not simply put up its back and remain on the
defensive, but made all the warlike noises a cat is
capable of, and darted off past Ti., jumped upon a
bed and then up a smooth wall, coming down on
the floor again with a bang. Poor Ti., who
thought all this splutter meant an attack, was by
this time at the other end of the ward with her tail
between her legs, and it was only when the cat was
safely perched on a high shelf, that she cautiously
ventured past, finishing with a rush to the door.

" In returning, I thought she might as well run
a little where the streets were not crowded. She
followed very nicely, but at King's Cross I stopped
and took her in. Nothing, however, would induce
her to remain in, and out she jumped. She is
wonderfully clever in the streets. She always runs
on the right-hand side of the carriage — never on
the left — and when we meet another carriage or
vehicle of any kind, which of course we pass on
this side, she dodges behind some time before it is
necessary.

"As she displayed such a remarkable talent
for following, I allowed her to come in the afternoon
with Walter and me, first to St John's Wood and
then to St George's Square and Battersea Park.
It was a very long run, 14 miles at least, but though
we made her the offer repeatedly she would not
stop in the carriage a moment, and she reproved
little boys and people on horseback just as if we
were only walking. At St John's Wood I carefully

M

178 CHILDREN

kept her from following me through the garden
door, but when I was going upstairs to see the
patient, to my dismay, she rushed on before me.
Of course we had to turn her out.

" The only other adventure worth relating was
that Walter, after remarking that Ti. did not know
how to jump out of a carriage in motion, as she
nearly rolled over, tried it on himself and rolled
over completely.

" Well now, I shall expect as long a letter as
this in answer. Do not read much, and never when
the light is failing."

CHAPTER X

LETTERS, 1875-1880

Fortieth Birthday. Work and Lectures in 1876. Illness of Mr
Broadbent, senior. Income. Havre and Paris. Professor
Charcot. Salpetriere. Congress at Geneva. Bulgaria. Opinion
of Disraeli. Death of his Mother.

To Mrs C.

6,th Feb. 1875.

" By the way, I have passed through a critical
period of my personal history since I last wrote.
My 4Oth birthday. When I woke up on the
morning of my 39th I had a mauvais quart
dheure. Entering my 4Oth year, it was impossible
to conceal from myself that my youth was gone.
The best part of my life spent. No new thing
worth doing is begun after the age of 40, so that
I could form a tolerable opinion of my life's work
and of the sort of mark I am likely to leave. But
I could not half tell you the ideas with which I
persecuted myself; and after all one becomes
reconciled to the inevitable, whatever form it may
take — even to being 40 years of age — and on the
whole I put a cheerful countenance upon it. I
have put down at least one stepping-stone in the
physiology of the nervous system which everybody
must make use of, and have been a pioneer in
investigations which will one day make medicine
scientific. I could push on some steps farther, too,

179

180 OVERWORK

but I live again in the children, and to immortality
in this form must sacrifice a possible immortality
of scientific reputation. From time to time the
spirit moves me and I long to go back to my
experiments, but the flesh is weak. No, I am
mistaken. It is too strong."

To J. E.

\6t& January 1876.

" At length I find myself trying to carry out a
good intention of very long standing, for you are
more in my thoughts than would appear from
my acts.

" One of Disraeli's sayings is, that ' Youth is
a blunder, manhood a struggle, old age a regret.' I
can answer for the truth that manhood is a struggle.
One gets caught in the whirl of events ; every day
seems to bring more than a day's work, the long-
desired leisure is always to be to-morrow, unless it
recedes still further, and so life goes on. I have
been overworked for some time — ever since, in fact,
I undertook the editing of Tanner.

" I was, unknown to myself, just on the point
of beginning to reap the fruits of my labours.
Had I known it, I should have declined the task,
but struggling as I was, it would have been
wrong to refuse work which would bring in so
much money.

" I have suffered a good deal from sleeplessness,
and this is followed by such lassitude that every-
thing I am not compelled to do is put off. This
year — last summer I mean — my holiday was again
cut short. I had to come from Scotland a week
sooner than I intended, and go straight to Havre
to see and bring back to England the son of a
patient.

"Then in October I was invited to give the

LECTURES AND PAPERS 181

address at Dr Crichton Browne's Annual Conver-
sazione at the Wakefield Asylum.

"It was too great an honour and too good an
opportunity to refuse, and, being a great oppor-
tunity, demanded adequate preparation.

"I took for my subject "The Theory of the
Construction of the Nervous System," and for the
first time in my life gave a long address without
notes. It was a success, except that the reporters
were puzzled by the names. This address was a
serious addition to my work. Then I had to make
my presidential address on retiring from the
Harveian Society, which was another important
matter.

" Finally, I have had to prepare the balance-sheet
and report of the Medical Benevolent Fund, of
which I am, much against my will, Treasurer, and
I have at this moment before me the task of
writing the report of the Fever Hospital ; while I
have undertaken to write the articles on Chorea,
on Typhoid Fever, and on Fever in general,
for a new medical encyclopedia, and have on
my hands papers on Ingravescent Apoplexy
and on the Constriction of the Mitral Valve of
the Heart, and ought to publish a clinical lecture
on Pericarditis.

"On Ingravescent Apoplexy and Mitral Con-
striction I have new and important matter to
contribute, and indeed I have never yet written
for the sake of writing or for the sake of
practice. Much indeed that I have done and
written has been so much in advance of existing
knowledge as rather to get me the reputation of
a theorist.

" Happily I do not forfeit my good name as a
practical physician. Already, with God's blessing,
my success is assured, and I have indeed a fair
chance of being, not only among the first dozen,

182 ILLNESS OF FATHER

but among the first two or three. Of course this
fires my ambition : it is a chance I must not let
slip past me for want of a little extra exertion. A
few weeks ago Sir W. Gull designated me as his
probable successor.

" Father is wonderfully well. I trust he will be
spared to see you and yours, after which he will be
ready to sing Nunc dimittis. Mother also is well.
Arthur looks more like Butterworth every time I
see him, and develops much of his business talent.
Ben also is better.

" Mills and business have both prospered during
the past year. Julia and the children have spent
Christmas with us : the house was a regular hive ;
unfortunately the bees had not the instinct of order
— quite the contrary."

These next years were shadowed by the long
illness of his father, who in October 1875 had a bad
attack of rheumatic gout, from which he was
recovering, when in the spring of 1876, on his
eightieth birthday, he overbalanced himself and
fell heavily in his room, an accident resulting in
shock and injury which left him almost completely
paralysed, and brought on constant returns of
pain and fever which for some time placed his life
in danger.

For nearly three months William went to Long-
wood every week, his father depending on him so
much that a letter from a sister describes him as
saying, "I'm like a schoolboy counting the days to
Saturday."

William, in writing to his brother in India,
says : —

ILLNESS OF FATHER 183

ToJ.E.

ttnd March 1876.

"I got home about 8.30 on Saturday evening,
and my mere presence seemed to do father good,
and he had a capital night's rest. He also took his
food better, so that on Sunday he was quite himself
in a way — that is, freedom from pain and prostra-
tion allowed his cheerfulness to come out, and we
had many a good laugh at his sayings.

" He quite expects to be restored, but as far as
he personally is concerned, it is quite the same to
him whether he is or not. He speaks of heaven
exactly as if it were next door — no rapture, no long-
ing, indeed he seems to belong to heaven quite as
much as to earth.

" Even accidental circumstances contribute to
throw a poetic halo round him, for over his head
hangs — surrounded by a garland of ferns — the
motto, 'At evening tide it shall be light.'

" Old age, as a rule, seen closely is unbeautiful,
and my experience of the world and of men is that,
as a rule, as men grow older, they deteriorate both
in body, mind, and character ; but to this there are
striking exceptions, and none more remarkable than
father."

28M April

" All last week he was very ill, and I went by an
early train on this account. On Sunday, however,
he rallied wonderfully, and I was full of hope again ;
but the last news from home is worse than ever,
and I cannot but fear that his time with us is very
short. He himself is weary of the long struggle
and anxious to depart, though he has clung to the
hope of seeing you again with Dora and the
children. Last Sunday he was saying he thought

184 ILLNESS OF FATHER

they would come to look at him after one of his
sleeps and find him gone.

" I told him, after all, I hoped he would still
live to see you, and he said, 'Yes, I should be
thankful to see John again. If you can relieve me
of the pain and raise me up, I have no objections —
that is, to live a little longer — but if not, I had
rather go quietly."

From the middle of May the pain and fever
gradually abated, and in course of time he was able
to be lifted to a couch for an hour or two each day,
but he never regained the use of his limbs and
could not assist himself in the least.

In this condition, with slight variations, he
remained for the next four years : his mental
faculties continuing wonderfully alert to the end.

In spite of the time occupied by the visits to
Longwood, Dr Broadbent's practice continued to
increase, and he writes : —

To J. E.

Sept. 1876.

" In the first half of the year I only just made
my ;£iooo, which was not keeping up to my rate of
progress, but July made amends, for I took ^450 in
that one month, and then my call to Weston paid
for our holiday.

" I found also another high compliment await-
ing me — an invitation to act as rapporteur to the
International Congress to be held at Geneva next
September. It is an honour and also an oppor-
tunity.

" Father keeps wonderfully sound and clear in
mind, but his frame will never be good for much,

CONGRESS AT HAVRE 185

and he will never be much out of his bed any
more.

"Our children will, I suppose, be giants com-
pared with yours, but yours will soon shoot up in
Yorkshire. I think one of the chief results of my
holiday has been to increase my love and veneration
for the children — a result which some of my friends
consider unnecessary, to say the least of it, if not
undesirable."

The rapport which he had to give at Geneva
determined his plans for the next summer, and he
combined work and pleasure by attending the
Congresses at Havre and Geneva, finishing up
with a short walking tour in the Swiss mountains.

To Mrs C.

NEUFCHATEL, znd Sept. 1877.

" My week at Havre was exceedingly pleasant.
I was the guest there of Mrs Yung, an old patient.
The house is on the top of the Cdte, the high
ground which overlooks Havre, and the view from
my window looked over the town and across the
Seine to Trouville and Honfleur ; up the river also
for some distance and out to sea, where an ironclad
squadron was at anchor in honour of the Congress.
The atmospheric effects were a constant source of
pleasure.

"The mornings I usually spent at the Congress,
where I met several distinguished men whom I
wanted to know, and learnt a good deal.

" My day at Paris was most interesting. I had
written to Professor Charcot saying that I pro-
posed to be at his hospital, ' La Salpetriere,' at 9
o'clock on Friday, asking him to let me know if he
would not be there. I found at the hotel a note

186 PROFESSOR CHARCOT

saying he would call for me, and accordingly he
drove me to the hospital. He was not on duty, but
came from the country expressly.

" At Salpetriere there are about 5000 women,
aged, insane, or ill, and Charcot has from among
them a perfect museum of nervous diseases. All
the most interesting cases were brought together
for my inspection, and you can imagine (or perhaps
you cannot] what a pleasure it was to see them and
discuss them with Charcot. Then I went with him
to dejeuner, and, as I am not indifferent to a good
meal and good wine, I enjoyed this.

" What you really would appreciate is the
exquisite furnishing of M. Charcot's apartments —
the old tapestry, bronzes, cabinets, chairs, etc.
I remained till after 3 o'clock, and nearly all
the time we were talking science, or shop,
according to the view taiken of it. I could
not have had a greater reward for the work
I have done, or a greater stimulus to further
exertion, than the appreciation of a man like
Charcot.

" I must confess also to a certain amount of
pleasure at the degree to which my name and work
were already known by men whom I met at Havre.
We have all our weak points, as you well know."

To Mrs C.

igth Sept. 1877.

" The Congress at Geneva opened with speeches
which were of no great interest to me, having, as
was the case, my own unfinished rapport on my
mind. All the evening, and on Monday morning,
I slaved away at the final re-arrangement.

"My great difficulty was that my subject was
too big for the time at my disposal, so that I could
not anticipate objections, and I knew my conclusions

CONGRESS AT GENEVA 187

were to be attacked by Schiff, whose name you will
remember as the great vivisectionist.

" Well, the eventful moment came at 3 P.M. I
had an audience of 300 or 400, and of course was
frightfully nervous, but once on my feet I was all
right. I got through pretty well. Then came
Schiff s attack, which after all was not really against
my conclusions, but very largely against conclusions
of others, which I had myself rejected. He had
prepared his speech, and could not spoil it by taking
notice of mine. My reply was necessarily very
imperfect.

" Once my own trouble off my mind, I could
enter into what was going on, and really it was
extremely pleasant. I made the acquaintance of
many men whose names and work I knew well, and
with some found a sympathy of mind and pursuits
which made us not acquaintances merely, but friends
at once.

" I was really astonished to find my own name
and work so generally known, and cannot tell how
to account for it. I positively felt rather like an
impostor, and one thing is imperative — since I have
the reputation, I must work harder than ever to
make myself worthy of it in some degree. Iron does
sharpen iron with a vengeance."

A few extracts may be given, illustrating his
political opinions during the years from 1876
to 1879: —

ToJ. E.

July 1876.

" I hope we shall not have war, I do not want
England to be found fighting for the maintenance
of Turkish dominion over the Slav races, and to be

188 VIEWS ON POLITICS

accountable for the atrocities the Turks commit. I
confess I have no confidence in our present govern-
ment. Disraeli is a mountebank, without any prin-
ciples of conduct ; Lord Derby, intellectually clear
and cool, but with a twist in his mental organisa-
tion ; Lord Carnarvon, a weakling. There is a
certain narrow force and intensity about Lord Salis-
bury, and luckily he does not readily fall under the
influence of Disraeli.

" Fortunately Russia is crippled for want of
money. The interests of Austria are antagonistic
to those of Russia, and Germany, having possibly
to fight either or both at some time or other, has
no desire to see either gain an increase of power.

"All this gives England a grand opportunity ;
what I fear is, that Disraeli may not look beyond
the triumph of the present. He is essentially a
hand-to-mouth politician — shrewd and adroit in
dealing with existing circumstances, vain and self-
seeking, reckless of remote consequences. I have
the most profound distrust of him ; but all you
soldiers are Conservatives, and, I am afraid, will
have little sympathy with my political views. Still,
the estimate I have given is a result of a study of
the men as men, and not a piece of partisan abuse."

8//fc Sept.

" I am afraid if you had been at home, we
should have had some hot discussions on the
Turkish question, and on the way in which our
Ministry has made the nation unwilling accomplices
in the atrocities committed in Bulgaria. It has
moved me more than I can tell, and my contempt
for Disraeli has deepened into abhorrence.

" You will, if you have read and considered
dispassionately the evidence, have seen that the
Bulgarian Christians were a quiet, peaceful, and
industrious race, seeking education, and obtaining

VIEWS ON POLITICS 189

it in spite of difficulties. There was, no doubt, a
local attempt at insurrection, and high time too.
I do not at all believe that Russia stirred it up.
But it is too late to potter about for causes, it must
be for ever put out of the power of Turkey to
perpetrate these crimes again.

" You say that wicked things are done in Indian
countries under our control, but two wrongs do not
make a right, and we may, by our unfaithfulness to
the trust committed to us as a nation, have deserved
the Mutiny, and be preparing the way for our own
expulsion.

" I suppose you are all in a ferment about Lord
Lytton's minute on the Fuller and Leeds case. I
do not agree with him. It is a high-handed pro-
ceeding to include in one sweeping censure so many
officials of high character and long experience.
But there is another side to the question.

"It would not occur to me to speak of the
Sepoy's throwing away his meat, because your
shadow had rested upon it, as an insult. I should
tell the man I was sorry I had spoilt his food, and
take pains to give it a wide berth another time. I
can understand that it is very trying to have to live
with and manage natives of India. The thing is
to try to understand them."

ToJ. E.

jth April 1879.

" National affairs do not improve. Commercially,
times are as bad as ever — politically, we are still led
floundering through congenial mire by our will-o'-
the-wisp Minister. You will know sooner and
better than we do, what is doing in Afghanistan,
where I am afraid our difficulties are only
beginning; and you will have read with eager
interest all about the frightful disaster in South

190 VIEWS ON POLITICS

Africa. What oppresses me more even than mis-
fortune is the feeling that we are in the wrong —
that all this bloodshed was unnecessary ; it is a
frightful responsibility.

" We are accomplices, too, in the oppression of
the poor Egyptian fellaheen, who are dying by
thousands of famine, the direct result of over
taxation ; and finally, we are to take part in a mixed
occupation of Roumelia, to aid in keeping Christians,
such as they are, under the Turkish Government,
such as it is. To what base uses may we come.

" Fortunately Mr Aitchison is at Burmah, or
the Viceroy would make a diversion in that direc-
tion to draw away attention from the North- West.
Peace with honour. What next ? "

His mother, who for some time had been in
failing health, developed cancer of the breast early
in 1878, and, although she came up to London,
where an operation was performed by Mr Joseph,
now Lord, Lister, under the advice of Sir James
Paget, the disease soon recurred in a more
malignant form, and she suffered intensely, the
physical pain being aggravated by her inability to
nurse her husband, or, for months before her death,
even to be moved into his room.

Her son thus describes her death : —

To Mrs C.

LONGWOOD EDGE,
iith Oct. 1879.

" My poor mother was released from her
sufferings last evening, more speedily than I had
expected.

" I did not get here till after 2 P.M., by which

DEATH OF MOTHER 191

time she was scarcely capable of giving any
manifestation of consciousness and had long been
unable to speak. All they could see was that her
eyes turned constantly to the door in evident
expectation, and all I received of recognition was a
feeble look.

" Up to this time, although they had told father
she was worse, he had not realised it, and I had to
tell him that she was dying. It was a great shock
to him. When I had gone back to mother's bed-
side, he said to a cousin of ours who was sitting
with him : ' You will find a warm coat of mine in the
other room ; bring it here. Then tell William I
want to see him.' When I got to him he said, ' Is
mother unconscious ? Will she know me ? I want
to kiss her once more.' I said of course that we
would take him to her ; he replied, ' That's right,'
and then said not another word while we were
making preparations. I will not trust myself to say
anything about the interview, and indeed I will only
add that she lingered till 7 o'clock and then passed
peacefully and quietly away, her mode of death
realising literally the words in which she used to
speak of it : ' the weary wheels of life stand still.'

" We cannot but be glad that it is so."

Throughout the winter it seemed as if her
husband would quickly follow her. It was pitiful to
see his weariness and restlessness, and his intense
yearning to be gone. His one desire was to rejoin
her.

The increasing tension of all the muscles was
giving him great pain, and after his years of patient
suffering it was hard to see him so heavily afflicted
as he was now.

But as the spring came round he rallied beyond

102 A RIGHT HAPPY OLD MAN

all expectations. He became more restful and
regained something of his former cheerfulness, and
during the summer was as well as he had ever been
during the last four years.

ToJ. E.

7th June 1880.

" Father is wonderfully well, notwithstanding
increasing contraction and deformity of all his
limbs, which has now reached a degree unexampled
in my experience, and he remains a happy old man
— 'a right happy old man,' he is fond of saying.
Although extreme deafness is now added to his
afflictions, he must put up with it he says. I did
not think at one time that he would survive the
winter."

He lingered on till September.

CHAPTER XI

DEATH OF HIS FATHER

Death of Mr Broadbent, senior. His Funeral. Growth of Practice.
Dines with Ruskin.

To Mrs C.

\ith Sept. 1880.

" My dear old father has at length attained his
long-desired haven. He died yesterday.

" This death leaves a great void in our hearts,
though we cannot be sorry that he is released from
weariness and suffering, and for myself it is rather
a feeling of great solemnity and seriousness than of
grief and sadness that has come over me.

" He was a good man — the best man I have
ever known, and I cannot but feel how far short of
his standard I come. I do not hesitate to say that
he was a great man too. There was something in
his character which commanded respect, and he
had an influence altogether unaccounted for by his
means or position. There was an entire absence
of self assertion, but his equals all gave way to
him, and among his workmen his word was law.
He always had his choice of the best men, and men
would work for him as they would for no one else.

" He has left his mark on the world — a real,
if not a conspicuous one. The moral and religious
tone of the whole neighbourhood was raised by his

193 N

194 DEATH OF HIS FATHER

influence, and who can estimate the value of this
throughout so long a life ? Materially, too, he has
been a benefactor. Driving up the village the
other day, my brother pointed out house after
house, good, substantial, comfortable stone houses,
built for themselves and occupied by our work-
people. Some, indeed, have become manufacturers
and have made fortunes, but I think more of the
comfort of the many.

" Intellectually he was an undeveloped poet, not
that there was anything brilliant about him. It
was, indeed, only in his prayers that the poetic
element appeared, and that not in any excitement
or vehemence, but in the quiet family prayers, which
were always extemporaneous.

" Well. He is gone. Day by day since my
mother's death he has said, ' How long is it since
mother left us ? ' Naturally he lost count of time,
sleeping half the day and waking half the night.
When my sister told him, he usually answered, ' So
long, is it? I shall soon join her.'

" Out of a full heart the mouth speaketh. I
feel sure of your sympathy, and so have let my pen
run on.

" He is to be buried on Wednesday. It will be
a simple, old-fashioned Methodist funeral, more of
triumph than of mourning on the surface ; but there
will be a depth and intensity of feeling in many a
rugged heart, which only those who know the
Yorkshire men of our district could imagine."

To Mrs C.

17 th Sept. 1880.

" I feel moved to continue my letter about my
dear old father and to tell you about his funeral,
which seemed to belong to another age and

FUNERAL 195

generation altogether, more simple and natural than
our own, and to be more like a tribe following an
old patriarch to the grave than a modern burial.

" I think I told you how he had arranged every
detail of his own funeral long since ; he had seen
the village carpenter and given him instructions
about the coffin, had had our head mason up to
his room and told him exactly how the vault was
to be constructed, so that he and my mother should
lie side by side, and how it was to be closed, and
he had made my brother write down all particulars
with regard to the proceedings of the day itself.
Sometimes after a restless night, when asked how
he had slept, he would say, ' Well, not very well, but
I have been superintending my own funeral.' All
this was before my mother's death and in the
anticipation of her surviving him ; when she died
he had not the heart to give a single direction or
to express a wish, and when we asked if he would
like so and so done, he would only say he left it
all to us. So far as I know, he has never said a
word about his own funeral since.

" People often give instructions about their
funeral ceremonies out of vanity, but anything like
vanity was absolutely foreign to my father's
character. He knew the relation in which he stood
to so many neighbours, and that numbers would
come to stand by his graveside, invited or not, or
would learn too late with infinite regret that he was
buried, and he simply thought for others at his
death as during his life. He was so much
accustomed also to look forward almost eagerly to
death as the entrance into everlasting life, that it
seemed natural to him that there should be more of
triumph than of sadness when his mortal remains
were committed to the dust, and this he wished to
secure.

" According to his wishes, then, our near

o

196 DEATH OF HIS FATHER

relations and a very few intimate friends came to
the house. All others assembled at the school-
room connected with the chapel, where breakfast
was provided for those who came from a distance
before the funeral ; for those living in or near the
village, after it.

"At about half-past ten the coffin was brought
down from the bedroom and placed in the passage
unclosed, and while the minister who had charge
of the service read a chapter and prayed with our-
selves and the friends, the people, who had by
this time come up from the school-room, filed past
to have a final look at my father's face, entering by
one door and leaving by another.

" My father had chosen the chapter to be read,
as he had the hymns, and even the tunes to be
sung. You would never guess what the chapter
was, and you could not without knowing him
intimately, at all understand his choice.

" The minister seemed puzzled at first, and one
could see that he thought there must have been
some mistake ; but, as he read on, a gleam of light
seemed to fall upon his understanding, his intona-
tion changed, and it was to him a revelation of my
father's mind. The chapter was Isaiah 54.

"The Methodist burial service is that of the
Church of England without, or, as in my father's
case, with the interpolation of one or two hymns
and a short address and prayer. After the psalms
we had over again the first hymn, and sung as it
was heartily and with feeling, with all the parts well
given and especially the bass, one felt that there
was not only music in the tune but poetry. Poetry
in the tune itself as well as in the words, which,
indeed, usually is the case in my father's favourite
tunes, only you must have a singing congregation
to do them justice.

" The second hymn is one of the grandest ever

AN INHERITED BLESSING 197

written, and to it again the tune was a worthy
match. I think my dear old father would be
satisfied if really there in spirit, superintending, as
he said, in his playfulness, his own funeral.

" The last solemn and hopeful words were said,
and we returned home, leaving the chapel-yard full
of people waiting respectfully till we had gone,
before they too had a last look into the grave.

"Well, I must conclude. I do not feel that
the solemn impression made on my mind by my
father's death wears off, or that serious thoughts
become fewer.

" He was the last of his family, and now that he
has fallen, I seem to be moved forward into the
front rank of combatants. It is for me now — not
to take his place in the world, that can never be —
not even to prove myself worthy to be his son and
successor, that too is beyond me — but I must at
least try to take inspiration from his example.
What I feel most of all is my responsibility with
regard to the children. My father and mother
have earned for us the blessing promised to the
children of those who have loved and served God.
How can we pass it on to our children ? "

To J. E.

-zdth December 1880.

" Dear old father, the marks of age had
increased greatly in the last year of his life, and his
face had lost much of its characteristic expression ;
but time itself could not impair the dignity of head
and forehead, and to the last his heart retained its
kindliness ; and gleams of his old shrewd penetrat-
ing humour showed his mental powers were only
obscured and not really failing. You will find it
more easy than I do to go back to the time before

198 DEATH OF HIS FATHER

his long illness, and picture him as he was before the
infirmities of age had taken any real hold upon
him.

" My frequent visits and our intense anxiety
make his illness subtend a large angle in my
experience, and throw back all antecedent impres-
sions and events. Who would have thought that
mother, young as she looked and active and
energetic as she was, would have been the first
to go ? How the time comes back of the operation,
and again, of her later sufferings. Poor mother !
she was sorely tried."

To A.

2<)th December.

" I propose, all being well, to go to Longwood
on the 3ist, to spend New Year's Day and Sunday
there. By father's death the centre of gravity of
the family is displaced for all of us who are no
longer there, but perhaps more for me than for
you and Ben, and our respective homes will become
new centres.

" I shall still go from time to time, when I can,
and we shall be glad to send the children when
they can do with them. I should like the house
to be kept up as a family property, Sarah and Leila
living there as long as they choose."

To J. E.

i ^th January 1881.

" Each day brings some imperative task to clear
off which carries me late into the night. I went to
Longwood on New Year's Eve, spent New Year's
Day and Sunday there, enjoying it extremely.
We are all of one mind, I think, about the old
house.

RUSKIN 199

" Another event was Sancho's death (a big black
retriever) on the last day of the old year. He had
developed wonderful intelligence ; had got over his
youthful combative follies, or rather, I think, had
established his superiority over all the dogs in
the neighbourhood, so that, like the Spanish
marshal on his deathbed, who, when asked if he
forgave all his enemies, answered, ' I have none, I
have shot them all,' old Sancho might have said he
had beaten all his. His heart only got bigger and
kinder and more tender as he got older.

" I am still getting on. My receipts in 1880
just reached ^3400. Unfortunately I cannot save
as much as I should like or as much as I ought
to do out of so good an income, and I hesitate to
add to my insurance in case I should break down
in health and be unable to pay the premiums. I do
not think I shall make as much in the coming year
as last year. I had two exceptionally good cases, but
a good feature in my practice is, that my morning
work at home is growing."

Two letters to his sister give his impressions of
a meeting with Mr Ruskin : —

To S.

Dec. 1880.

" Last evening I at last met Ruskin at dinner
at Mr Searle's. There was another gentleman
staying in the house, and Madame Searle's sister ;
but I was the only invited guest, except, of course,
Mr and Mrs Severn, so that the party was quite
a small one, and no one was out of reach of con-
versation.

" Ruskin was quite at home, perfectly natural
and happy, so that I really saw the man himself.
I was much more charmed and struck with him

200 DEATH OF HIS FATHER

than I expected, not that the talk was unusually
brilliant, although all through the evening it was
animated and general and interesting, but because
he is evidently so simple-minded and good, and so
entirely free from vanity or desire to shine. His
laugh is remarkably sweet and genuine ; I could not
give you an idea of the subjects talked about.

" We passed from one to another ; his recent
visit to France, Amiens Cathedral, the expulsion
of the monastic orders, Coniston, Yorkshire, etc.
A little personal matter which interested me was
that he said he should enjoy railway travelling, the
rapid changes of scenes, etc., if it were not that he
was so frightened. He stuck to it that he was
really frightened and shrunk into himself, felt
miserable and ill, could not look at anything, and
the next day was quite prostrated.

" I was very much struck with the beautiful form
and outlines of his brow, especially as seen from
the side.

" Mr Ruskin's niece is a friend of the Searles,
and she has a room at her house always ready for
him. It was indeed his nursery as a child. Mrs
Searle is a lively little Frenchwoman, and when-
ever Ruskin is at Herne Hill he is very fond of
running in to see them. On Saturday week he
dined with them ; there was a small dinner party
and he had enjoyed the evening, and was among
the last to go down from the drawing-room. While
he was in the hall, and Mrs Searle was assisting
him to put on his coat and wrap, her sister struck
up a lively bit of music on the piano, when to the
astonishment of everybody, Ruskin rushed upstairs,
threw his topcoat upon a chair, and invited Mrs
Searle to dance a minuet. She threw herself into
it with spirit. He was quite like a boy."

CHAPTER XII

PROFESSIONAL WORK

President of the Medical Society. Reminiscences of a Former
Student. Vice-President of the Clinical Society. Patient at
Egham. Rome and Michael Angelo. Romanism. International
Medical Congress. Member of Royal Commission.

THE next ten were years of fruition, and were
marked perhaps even more by the rapidly growing
recognition of the value of his work, and of the
strength of his personality on the part of his profes-
sional brethren than by the appreciation of the
public, although his practice increased steadily, and
he speaks of his income as rising to £4000 and
^5000 per annum.

He was made President of the Medical Society,
and was called upon to take a leading part in the
International Medical Congress, which was held in
London in 1881, and in the same year he was
appointed a member of the Royal Commission on
Fever Hospitals, while his letters to his eldest
daughter, who was in Rome, show what was the
pressure of his professional work.

The consciousness of success gave a new
impetus to his life, and he responded to every fresh

201

202 PROFESSIONAL WORK

call on his time and energy in a way which would
have been impossible, had he not been endowed by
nature with an exceptionally vigorous constitution,
and braced by the discipline of his early life to the
habit of strenuous and unremitting exertion. It
would seem impossible that he should have had
any time for writing or study, but no year passed
without the publication of papers on various
subjects, and in 1884 he gave the Harveian
Lectures on " Prognosis in Heart Disease," and in
1887 the Croonian Lectures on " The Pulse," which,
later on, formed the basis of a book which he
published in 1890.

He was never able to dictate with any degree of
success, and his manuscript was often revised and
rearranged to an extent which sometimes rendered
it almost illegible, due, perhaps, to the fact that for
many years country journeys furnished almost the
only opportunities of recording his thoughts and
experience on paper, and much of his writing was
done in the train.

He had resigned his post at the Fever Hospital,
but he was still on the staff of St Mary's Hospital,
and it is characteristic of him that he did not confine
himself only to the professional side of his work,
but, being appealed to by some of the resident
medical officers to uphold their cause against the
matron and medical superintendent, whom he
characterises as tyrannical, he did not hesitate to
"fight their battles," although, as he says, "it is
hateful work, and the attendance at the Board

REMINISCENCES OF A STUDENT 203

meetings will probably cost me some hundreds a
year."

The struggle which lasted for nearly eighteen
months ended in the resignation of the matron, of
which he writes : — " This has been a great deal my
doing, and through it I have incurred much odium,
and some loss, and have risked much, but it became
my duty to stand between her and those whom she
would have injured. I ought really to have inter-
posed sooner, but I might not have had the same
success."

One of his former students writes of his "quick-
ness of perception, the alertness to catch and fix the
fleeting impression, the undercurrent of serious
earnestness, yet withal the sunny cheeriness," and
says : —

" Medical students as a body are not over-
burdened with a sense of respectful deference to
their seniors, and adverse criticism was wont to come
trippingly on the tongue to the tribe of us ; but
such criticism never once found its expression in my
hearing with regard to Dr Broadbent. His care-
fulness as a diagnostician, his consideration equally
for the requirements of the student and the well-
being of the patient, the pains he would take to see
that the point under consideration was fully com-
prehended, his willingness at all times to place
himself at the disposition of his students, so far as
the multifarious calls upon him made by his busy
life permitted, the personal courtesies and hospitality
he extended to them, and above all the high-minded-
ness and noble purpose of his character, all tended
to endear him to those brought into contact with
him in their student days.

204 PROFESSIONAL WORK

" Nor did the friendly interest excited during a
student career lapse with its termination. Those
who kept in touch with him could always be sure of
kindly and wise counsel for the asking, whether the
matter were one as to a career, a perplexing case,
or personal or domestic illness. In the first two of
these contingencies I have myself repeatedly experi-
enced his unfailing kindness ; in the last, I have
known of instances where all the engagements of a
busy life have been put aside to make time to give
freely his aid in consultation at the bedside of some
former pupil, not only in or near London, but at
distances involving a railway journey of many hours
each way.

" Two cases of his professional advice by letter
to me, when in the early eighties I was a general
practitioner in country practice, stand out clearly in
my memory. In the first, a country gentleman
under my care had what appeared to be a most
obstinate and serious attack of typical tertian ague.
Quinine and arsenic, as well as everything else I
could think of, proved unavailing. A letter to Dr
Broadbent brought back the valuable suggestion
that, though I had described nothing specifically
pointing in that direction, symptoms closely re-
sembling malarial disease, even in periodicity, were
not infrequently caused by gall-stone. The result
justified the suggested diagnosis.

"On another occasion I drove on my rounds
through a certain village, and spoke to a peasant's
healthy little child, some nine years of age, playing
joyously and vigorously on a bright summer day.
This was between 10 and n A.M. When I returned
from my round between 2 and 3 P.M. I found the
father in my surgery waiting anxiously to take me
back to see this little child, who was then at death's
door. Death ensued within an hour after my
arrival, with nothing that I could discover pointing

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER 205

to the source of the mischief. I wrote a description
of the case and of my perplexity to Dr Broadbent,
who replied by return, suggesting that I should
make rigid inquiry as to the existence in the neigh-
bourhood of scarlet fever, which in a malignant form
at times made a sudden onslaught such as I had
described, causing death before any distinguishing
mark of any kind had time to manifest itself.

" Inquiry elicited the fact that the child had
recently played with another one who had been
sick with ' a bad sore throat,' and the diagnosis was
promptly confirmed by the outbreak of scarlet fever
among other inmates of the dead child's household."

Letters to his Daughter

yothjany. 1881.

" We are very sorry to hear of the unfavourable
weather. The Riviera appeared to me to present
a combination of lovely scenery scarcely to be
equalled, and it is with something like pain that I
find you flying from it. To have felt one's entire
being penetrated and saturated by the unimaginable
blue of the Mediterranean ; to have seen from those
hills, clothed with fragrant herbs and shrubs behind
Cannes, the curves of the coast and the snow-
covered Maritime Alps is to me a joy for ever, and
I hoped you would have had like enjoyment."

loth Feb. 1881.

"The present year promises, if I live and all
is well, to be a very busy and exciting one for me.
I have just returned from a dinner given by the
President of the Medical Society whom I am to
succeed, and very soon I shall have to attend the
dinner of the Society, and I suppose make a speech
as President-elect. A satisfaction in connection

206 PROFESSIONAL WORK

with this office is that Edmund Owen is to be one
of the secretaries.

" I am also a Vice- President of the Clinical Society,
which will compel some degree of regularity in my
attendance there, in addition to the weekly meetings
of the Medical Society. Finally, I have to take the
chair at the St Mary's dinner in October, so that
with the fuss of the Medical Congress I shall have a
time of it altogether."

Feb. 1 88 1.

" I do not like to let Sunday evening pass
without writing at any rate a few lines, though I
am rather tired from an unusually hard day's work
yesterday.

" I had arranged to go to Crawley, but in the
morning I received a summons to Turvey, near
Bedford, and I had scarcely sent word to say by
what train I would go when I had another telegram
from Egham. To the latter I could only reply
that if it would do, I would go down after my
return from Bedfordshire, which would be at 9.35
P.M., and when I got back from this visit, which was
at 9-55» I found Mother at the station to send me
off from Waterloo at 10. 10. Old Kildare, however,
could not do it in the time, and I missed the train
by about half a minute. I had then to wait till 12
and to go to Staines instead of Egham, which
involved a long drive at the other end. Of course
I came home and had a cup of tea in the mean-
time. I got to the patient's house before 2
o'clock, but it was nearer 4 than 3 before I went
to bed, and I was called between 7 and 8. I
did not at all dislike it, but naturally I am tired
this evening, especially as I had several patients
to see in the afternoon instead of having a nap.
The weather was fine, though cold, and the country
pretty in both journeys, and the night drive

PRESIDENT OF THE MEDICAL SOCIETY 207

was made pleasant by a beautiful moon almost at
the full."

Thursday •, yd March 1881.

"It took me all last week nearly to write to you,
and this week my habit of at any rate beginning a
letter on Sunday evening was dislocated by a call
to Sutton to see a doctor who was very ill. I had
to go again ^on Tuesday, which was another evening
lost. Ann " (an old servant who had married and
gone to live at Peckham) " died in spite of all we
could do for her. I wish she had been nearer, so
that I might have watched the illness more closely
and dealt with the changing phases more promptly.
Mother was with her a great part of the day on
which she died ; her gratitude and her simple piety
and trustfulness and her love for little Jimmy were
very touching."

March 1881.

"It seems to make you even farther away than
you are, when I cannot write to you, and all last
week I was occupied from morning to night. On
Sunday evening I was sent for by the most long-
winded of the many tedious doctors who call me
to their cases, and before he could tell me about
the patient, he entertained me with a long account
of a carriage accident he had had the day before.
On Monday I had to go to Sutton and then to
spend the remainder of the evening at the Medical
Society, as I was elected President that night. On
Tuesday I was under obligation to attend the
dinner of the Society in the capacity of President-
elect, and I arrived at said dinner at 8 o'clock
instead of 7, finding myself between the President,
whose conversational power, such as it is, was in
abeyance, as his brain was charged with the
speeches he had to deliter, and the President
of the College of Physicians, about whose social

208 PROFESSIONAL WORK

qualifications it would not be respectful to speak
the truth. On Thursday I had to go to Hayes,
on Friday to Sydenham after the regular day's
work, while I ought to have had every moment of
my time for the preparation of my address on
taking the chair as President to-morrow evening.

" Occupied as I have been, I do not realise in
imagination so distinctly your little group, or follow
your proceedings, and this is quite painful. I wish
I had a better idea of what your rooms are like.
If you could send a photograph of the hotel or of
the street, it would form a background for the
pictures I try to form of you all, which would be
really a comfort.

" I never realised before what a wonderful place
Rome is. That Last Judgment of Michael Angelo
is one of the pictures I should most like to see ; I
think the power displayed in it would compensate
for anything uncongenial in the subject. Michael
Angelo is one of the men I admire most. His
versatility is astounding when one considers how
great he was in everything to which he turned his
hand — painter, sculptor, architect, engineer, soldier,
poet. He would have left a name in any one of
these departments, and his letters display an almost
child-like nature.

"To hear of the Laocoon, the Apollo, the
Dying Gladiator, and of so many paintings
familiar by name and by engravings from you,
and to think how much I should enjoy seeing
them with you, and how even more, I should enjoy
the visits to the ruins, makes me long to join you."

17 th April, 1 88 1 (Easter Sunday).

" I am very glad you saw the Pope, after all. I
consider him as interesting as the other ruins by
which he is surrounded. He is a great potentate
— greater than our Protestant minds easily com-

THE POPE 209

prehend — and probably his sway is greater now
that he has lost the temporal power and can say
with more truth, ' My kingdom is not of this world.'
It is not very long since the Pope exercised command
over kings and emperors, but it is a mightier thing
to rule the minds of men, and that he still does.
Romanism has exhibited extraordinary vitality,
some would say in virtue of its wonderful
organisation, others because of the kernel of
truth which it holds wrapped in so many errors.

" I should be disposed to hope that it is
preserved for some great end, like unworthy Israel,
and that it may be purified and not destroyed.

" Romanism may seem to make progress in
England and America, but the world is more and
more slipping away from the grasp of the Papacy.
There must, however, be something very human,
if not very good — and that is not quite the same
thing — in the Roman system for it to have held
the sway it did for so many centuries, and to retain
the hold it still does on so many millions of minds."

April 1 88 r.

" Lord Beaconsfield is dead after all. His has
been a marvellous career. Perhaps I judged him
too harshly, but I fear his influence on political
morality and on the national welfare has been
disastrous."

The chronicle of his life again goes on in letters
to his brother in India : —

To J. E.

KESWICK, Aug. 1881.

" I continue to make visible progress, not merely
as this is measured by money, but in the esteem of

O

210 PROFESSIONAL WORK

my professional brethren. My receipts before I left
town amounted to over ^2500, and the last week
scarcely counted as I was almost off work in conse-
quence of the International Medical Congress. I
was elected President of the Medical Society of
London in March, a good deal because of the
coming Congress, as it was supposed I should
represent the Society favourably in the eyes of
foreigners. Of course this imposed responsibility
upon me, but in any case I should have exercised
hospitality to the extent of my powers.

" The Congress lasted from Aug. 2nd to Aug.
9th. We had as guests Prof. Reverdin and his
wife, from Geneva, and Dr and Mrs Dukes
of Rugby. Besides these in the house we had
about a dozen to lunch, and as many, or more,
to dinner every day except when I had to dine
out, ex officio. Every lunch and every dinner was
a genuine success both as regards company and
dishes. I invited none but foreigners, except on
one evening when Prof. Charcot dined with us,
and then I thought it would give pleasure to
Englishmen to meet him, while it would also be
more of a compliment to him. I never had
such a busy week in my life. Except on the first
evening I had the luncheon and dinner party to
make up day by day, by inviting old friends,
and new acquaintances, and, as I also laid
myself out to be useful to French - speaking
foreigners, I soon became for them a sort of Deus
ex machina to whom they applied for information.
The afternoon was divided between the private
picture galleries and the general addresses or
sectional meetings. Buckingham Palace, Apsley
House, Sir R. Wallace's, Lord Dudley's, Earl
Fitzwilliam's, the Dukes of Sutherland's and
Westminster's, and Mr Holford's houses were all
open to members of the Congress.

INTERNATIONAL MEDICAL CONGRESS 211

"On the Wednesday there was a conver-
sazione at the S. Kensington Museum, on Friday
at the Guildhall, on Monday the ;th at the
College of Surgeons. On the Thursday the
Lord Mayor gave a banquet. On the Wednes-
day I dined with Sir Wm. Gull. He had the
Crown Prince of Prussia on one hand and the
Prince of Wales on the other: a rare honour
for any man. On the last Friday there was an
' informal dinner ' at the Crystal Palace. I secured
a table for 20 in the best part of the room.
About 1 200 sat down. We had a rare good time :
you can imagine the bustle and excitement, and
then one table fraternised with another, and all
sorts of incidents were taking place. The thing
wound up with fireworks.

SEYMOUR STREET,
i6tA Sept.

" I must not quite finish without telling you
something of my principal part in the Congress
doings. The Medical Society had selected a
number of distinguished foreign physicians and
surgeons who were to be made Honorary Fellows,
and we had a good deal of discussion as to the best
way of giving a little tclat to the ceremony.
Ultimately I offered to give a luncheon on the
occasion. I invited the new Honorary Fellows,
Charcot and Verneuil (French), Volkmanand Halla,
(German), Billings and Bigelow (American), such
old Honorary and Corresponding Fellows as were
at the Congress, some former presidents, the
Council, and a few friends, and we sat down 56.

" The luncheon was a very good one : we were
remarkably successful in arranging our guests. I
had Virchow on one hand and Charcot on the other,
and all through the eating and drinking part of the
business it was evident that everybody was enjoying

212 PROFESSIONAL WORK

himself. Then at the end I had to make a little
speech about the Society, the Congress, and our
new Honorary Fellows, concluding with the formal
admission of each. Nothing could have gone off
better. The whole meeting was roused to a pitch
of enthusiasm which I have never seen equalled.

" The Congress has fairly stirred me up to new
exertions. I have been astonished to see how my
work has borne fruit, and what influence my ideas
of the mechanism of the nervous system have had,
and as these ideas have developed in my own mind
into a really great and comprehensive theory of
nervous action, I am constrained to do what I can
to work it out. But life is short and practice now
claims much of my time and strength, and self-
indulgence is so seductive. I trust nevertheless
that with God's help I shall be able to contribute
something to the further advancement of knowledge
and to the relief of suffering."

To J. E.

-2hth December 1881.

" I have not been very well for the last month or
six weeks, and it seemed as if the last straw
would be the Royal Commission, of which I have
been appointed a member. We have been meeting
twice a week on Saturdays and Mondays, from 1.30
till 4 P.M., in one of the Committee rooms of the
House of Commons. It is of course a great honour,
but it will bring a tremendous amount of work upon
me, and will entail no inconsiderable amount of
pecuniary sacrifice. The subject we have to
consider is the amount of hospital accommodation
for small-pox and fever in London. Everything
depends on the medical element, and practically a
very large proportion will devolve upon me.

" Besides two afternoons a week, perhaps three,

ROYAL COMMISSION 213

for probably six months, I have a great deal of
work to do between meetings to be able to test and
sift the evidence brought before us, and I find both
the chairman, Lord Blachford, and the secretary
look to me for guidance. Fortunately the mild
winter has made my work easier than usual.
From the way in which general practitioners have
complained of having nothing to do, I wonder I
have been as busy as I have. After Christmas I
have only one lecture a week instead of three, which
will be a great relief. I have given up half the
course of medicine to Dr Cheadle. The general
slackness has no doubt interfered with my receipts,
but I shall just about make up ^"4000 for the year.
I do not, however, look upon this as my natural
income yet, so to speak, and do not expect to keep
at that figure for a year or two. Still I may fairly
look forward to ^5000 a year by the time I am 50,
all being well."

CHAPTER XIII

LECTURES AND ADDRESSES

Letter to his Brother. View of Politics. Domestic Affairs. Paper
on "The Cause and Consequence of Undue Tension in the
Arterial System." Harveian Lectures. Examiner at the College
of Physicians. Mechanism of Speech and Thought. Mr
Gladstone's Policy. Fiftieth Birthday.

To J. E.

Nov. 1882.

" You would be off on your travels before your
letter reached me, and may now be back from
Quetta. Your views of politics as they affect India
are extremely interesting to me. I give you credit
for independent judgment on matters which come
under your own observation, and though I should
not look upon official or general local opinion as
infallible, I attach much importance to it, and am
glad to have the reflex of a mind I know, under
circumstances of which I know something, to correct
impressions derived from newspapers.

" In general politics there are certain aims
which I set before myself as desirable, and I
follow men as I see them striving for them.
These are the material well-being and moral and
intellectual elevation of the lower classes (the
better classes can take care of themselves).
In foreign politics the main object to be held in
view is deliverance from oppression, and in dealing

214

VIEWS ON POLITICS 215

with other nations, I should not always be con-
sidering " British interests." It is an essentially
shortsighted and mischievous policy to make our
own interests the first object and sole guide.
The only safe rule is to do what is morally right!
I am a strong party man, but my admiration
of Gladstone, and my contempt and detestation of
Lord Beaconsfield, have been far more the cause
than the consequence of my political opinions, and
at this moment I should have far more confidence
in a Conservative Government, under the guidance
of Sir Stafford Northcote, without the malign
Salisbury element, than in a Liberal Government
with Mr Chamberlain as its leading spirit, although
there are many objects in which I sympathise
with Mr C.

" I have seen something of Mr Chamberlain,
and I know Sir Stafford well, and I have been glad
to find the opinions I had formed of them from
their speeches and acts confirmed by the impressions
derived from personal intercourse. I called at
Pynes, Sir Stafford's place near Exeter, on my
return from my holiday in Devonshire, and had a
delightful half day with him and Lady Northcote.

"It is time to turn to domestic affairs, and
happily here there is no striking incident to relate.
We pursue the even tenor of our way, and there is
so much happiness in seeing the progress and good
conduct of the boys at school, in watching their
bodily growth, and their intellectual and moral
development, in studying May's clear mind, and
sedate, self-contained character, and in ministering
to and sharing the wonderfully joyous existence of
the two children, that one would wish to arrest the
steps of time, and stop just here indefinitely. It
would seem as if the future could have nothing
better to give, and as if any change must be for the
worse.

216 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES

" I cannot help recognising, in fact, that per-
sonally I have reached the central tableland and
watershed of existence in this world, and am
indeed near its farther edge, though I do not yet
feel the detachment from its affairs which no doubt
I ought to have felt long since. I am thankful to
say that I am still prospering, and that, with God's
blessing, to which I owe everything, the future, as
regards my prospects, is full of promise. I am still
in the militant stage, and cannot afford to put off
my harness, but if I live and am well, it seems
clearer every year that when time removes the
group of men who now stand at the head of the
profession, I shall be among those who take their
places, and not far from the top.

" We spent our holiday in Devonshire. We were
fortunate in obtaining a cottage at Lee, about three
miles from Ilfracombe, a very pretty place, out of
the way of the mass of holiday makers. I think
the younger children were never so happy in their
lives. There was the endless interest of the sea,
and of the creatures to be found in the pools : we
could bathe en famille, without the nuisance of
machines, and there were delightful walks. An
immense addition to the enjoyment of the children
was a donkey which they rode and drove at will,
and they were also intensely interested in the fact
that the cottage had been a smuggler's house, and
has caves under the garden.

" We had a dog, a beautiful St Bernard pup ; he
was great fun at times, but especially in the water,
as he insisted on saving us."

To J. E.

1st January 1884.

" If I had not made up my mind to write to you
at this season, whatever else I might or might not

ON THE "HEART" 217

do, I should find ample reason for putting it off
once more in my sense of fatigue and in the arrears
by which I am surrounded.

" I cannot go farther back than the summer,
when I was asked to give an address and open a
discussion at the Liverpool Meeting of the British
Medical Association, at the end of July. I accepted,
I may say, almost jumped at, the invitation, as it
is only by committing myself to some definite
engagement that I can compel myself to sit down
after a long day's work and undertake the serious
labour of writing what shall not be unworthy of my
reputation. Men read what I write, and attach
importance to it, and this throws great responsi-
bility upon me.

"I took for my subject 'The Cause and
Consequences of undue Tension in the Arterial
System,' a subject of immense importance in which
I have led the profession. I had a packed audience,
and have had ample evidence since of the impres-
sion my address made. It has already saved many
lives.

"The Harveian Lectures of the Harveian
Society had also been offered me, and those I took
for the same reason : there were three lectures to be
given in November ; the subject for these was
1 Prognosis in Heart Disease,' and I had planned
to block them out roughly but fully during the
comparative leisure of September, when, also, I had
intended writing to you.

" I then hoped to put them into such shape that
they might be published as soon as they were
delivered.

"I got home on Tuesday, Sept. 4th, and on
Wednesday I had to start for Switzerland to see
Canon C, who had been taken very ill at Miirren.
This turned out to be pleasant and profitable, but it
knocked all my projects on the head. Work came

218 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES

in with bewildering rapidity. I was appointed
Examiner at the College of Physicians, work which
I hate and abhor, but which I did not think it
right to refuse. I was asked to preside at the
annual dinner of the Victoria University, Owens
College, and Royal School of Medicine.

" The lectures grew in my hands as the subject
developed itself, and I really hardly know how I
got them ready for delivery. I have still three
months' hard work before they will be in shape for
the press, and when they are finished, I have,
during the year, to write a book on the Pulse.

"In the midst of all this, I got two post-mortem
examinations for which I have been looking for
years, which make it incumbent on me to write
papers for the Medico-Chirurgical Society. The
last of these was just the one which was lacking
to complete the evidence on my theory of ' The
Mechanism of Speech and Thought.' The patient
had, for five years, been able to say anything but
nouns. The mischief in the brain was exactly
where I expected to find it. I have published my
specifications and the cases on which they are
based, in fragments.

" As soon as I have got the Pulse off my hands
I hope to bring out a complete account of the
subject, that is, if life and health are spared me."

•2f)th April.

" I am thankful to say that my progress still
continues. I took over ^5000 last year, but what
is more satisfactory is that my position in the
profession is increasingly recognised. This time
last year I was asked to become an Examiner in
Medicine at the London University. I had not
sent in my name as a candidate, feeling that I had
not the time, and, as the Senate had expected me
to do so, the unusual step was taken of inviting me

FIFTIETH BIRTHDAY 219

to accept the post, which, as it brings ^150 a year,
is much sought for.

" More recently I have been made Member of
Council of the College of Physicians. The most
astonishing thing to me is the amount of power and
influence which I possess, having never sought
either the one or the other.

" Politically, things look more serious every
day. The issue of peace or war trembles in the
balance with all the tremendous and far-reaching
consequences. With regard to Gladstone, we must
be content to think differently. As I have said
before, in national and international affairs effects
are so utterly unforeseeable, that the only safe rule
of action is to endeavour to do what is right.

"It is because I recognise this motive in all
Mr Gladstone's policy that I follow him. The
malignant falsehoods circulated about him in the
corrupt society of London, and the shallow
criticisms of newspaper writers, make no impression
on me. I do not pretend to vindicate all he has
done, but I do perceive in all a single-minded desire
to do what is right."

ToS.

zt>th January 1885.

" I always look for a birthday letter from you,
and value it when it comes. The last has been of
special interest, for on reaching fifty there is no
concealing from myself that I am far advanced on
the tableland of middle life, if not on the downward
slope of declining powers. I do not feel as if I were
fifty, my interest in my pursuits is active, my feel-
ings are fresh, and my spirits buoyant. But this,
no doubt, is the universal experience, and I do not
try to disguise from myself the truth.

"It has been a solemn season. My life has

220 LECTURES AND ADDRESSES

been one unbroken series of mercies and provi-
dences. My early trials and difficulties were not
the least among them ; but for them my character
would never have been braced up to the degree of
firmness which has been so important an element in
my success. I look back on my life humbly and
thankfully, almost indeed with trembling when I
remember how often my foot had well-nigh slipped.

" At fifty it is no longer the time for making
vows and promises : all I dare do is to acknowledge
and deplore my shortcomings, and place myself in
God's keeping, to do with me as he sees fit. If I
were disposed for self-congratulation (which I am
not, for I hold good fortune with a trembling hand,
and fear lest I have already had more than my
share), if I were disposed to dwell on my prospects,
there is much promise in them. My reputation
grows and my practice increases.

" I am nominated for the Council of the Medico-
Chirurgical Society, and for the Council of the
College of Physicians, positions of honour and influ-
ence quite unsought and unexpected. I cannot say
they give me any particular pleasure. Such per-
sonal ambition as survives is only for such distinc-
tions as will reflect honour on those I love and give
them pleasure, though I do wish to make my mark
on medical science, and to contribute to the relief of
human suffering through many generations.

" My great care is to secure the comfort and
happiness of the children, but while working for
them I am fully aware that their real welfare does
not depend on me. The boys could not have a
happier lot than to rise through struggles and
difficulties as I have done."

CHAPTER XIV

IN THE WARDS OF ST MARY's HOSPITAL

Illness. At Aix. At Dalmeny Park. Mr and Mrs Gladstone.
Work at St Mary's Hospital

To J. E.

H ALTON, 20th May 1888.

" You will know long before now that I have been
experiencing my first illness. It has come as a
warning amid my work and success, and I trust I
shall profit by it spiritually and in other ways.

" I have always had in my mind the possibility
of being laid aside by sickness, and although I may
have presumed on my strength and have been
imprudent, I have not been reckless ; and it has
mostly been in work which I have looked upon as a
duty or perhaps under the influence of ambition, of
which I am little conscious, but which no doubt
drives me more or less, that I have overtaxed my
powers.

"To go back to the very beginning of my
sciatica, I have no doubt it was the writing I did
during the last vacation, when I often felt chilled
and had rheumatic pains ; but then I really ought to
get out the two little books which will embody my
chief contributions to medical science. I know
they will do good, and, although my ideas have
largely permeated the profession, and are being

221

222 ILLNESS

introduced and acted upon in all parts of the world,
the publication of these books would give a great
impetus to them and would secure for me what I do
not always get — the credit for my work.

" Well, the next stage in my overthrow was
the illness of Mrs S., which, on the top of my
winter work, took me time after time to Herne Hill
after dinner, or from Vauxhall Station without
dinner, during the cold snowy weather of March. I
had some very sharp bouts of sciatic pain, but I
went on with the hope that when Easter came, the
few days holiday which we always try to take at
this season would set me right.

" I seriously thought of going to Bath for treat-
ment, but I could not bear the idea, so we went to
Tunbridge Wells, where the attempt to walk, and,
failing that, to drive off the sciatica precipitated an
attack of inflammation of the nerve. I was ten
days or more in bed, after which, I gradually began
to work, but I am still very lame. A great hindrance
to my recovery is that I cannot do any work at all
without having to do too much.

"It may give you some idea of the pressure
which comes upon me at times, when I tell you that
yesterday I was simultaneously wanted at Hereford,
Burton-on-Trent, and Ascot, and had I been in
health I should have managed to see all these
patients. I should probably have tried as I am,
but I had promised Mr Rothschild to accompany
him into the country for Whitsuntide, and it is at
his place that I am now writing in bed at 5 A.M. on
a most lovely morning, as I am unable to sleep.
Mr Rothschild has been most wonderfully kind all
through my attack.

"The boys carried me upstairs while they were
at home for the Easter vacation, and at first I
could only see patients, out of the house, where
I could be carried upstairs, or on the ground floor.

BOOK ON THE "PULSE" 223

" Last Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I
had the kind of rest which is afforded by change of
occupation. I was examining for the final M.B. at
Cambridge. I had to take Eliza with me to help
in my dressing operations, and she took Gerty for
company, which, with Walter, made a delightful
party at lunch and dinner.

" Walter has now rooms in the main quadrangle
of the College (Trinity), and I spent the greater
part of the day in the window-seat looking out on
the quadrangle, taking, however, my longest walk
up to that time round the quadrangle, which is a
quarter of a mile, and going to chapel in the eve-
ning, the first service I had been able to attend since
Easter Sunday."

He did not entirely recover until after a visit
to Switzerland, but a letter written during his
holiday in the following year shows how com-
pletely his health had been restored, and gives a
description of the way in which he spent the time
devoted to rest and recreation : —

To J. E.

RlFFEL ALP,
September 1889.

" A wet day gives me the opportunity I have
been seeking for some time, of writing to you. My
work gets harder year by year, and almost month
by month, but I have kept very well in health since
I was set up by my holiday last year, and I did not
feel to be particularly in need of rest at the end of
the season.

" I was, however, anxious to finish my little
book on the 'Pulse/ so I struck work on the
3ist July, and writing for a few days at home,

224 SWISS HOLIDAY

then at Plymyard, and lastly at Longwood Edge,
I got through all that remained to be done, and
handed the manuscript — or rather the type of
May's copying — to the publisher before starting
for my real holiday on 2Oth August.

" Our holiday has consisted of a short week in
Paris, where we had the house of the Armand-
Delilles. Then, on the evening of Monday, the
26th, we came by the night train to Berne, and
after breakfast and a couple of hours in seeing
the town, we went on to Thun, where I have long
wanted to spend a day or two. After two nights,
we went to Interlaken, and, lunching there, pro-
ceeded straight to the Schynige-Platte, on the hill
which looks along the Lauterbrunnen and Grindel-
wald Valleys. I walked up (6400 feet), but it was
too much for me.

"After two nights and two sunrises in a
rudimentary hotel there, we came down to Spiez,
on the Lake of Thun, for Sunday, and then
started on Monday over the Gemmi to Leuker-
bad. Thence, on Tuesday, we easily made St
Niklaus in the Zermatt Valley, and yesterday we
came on to this place.

"All the walks I have described have been
done by the girls and Walter. Eliza, of course,
had a horse.

" We arrived in Switzerland with the fine
weather, and, till last night, when a thunderstorm
broke it, nothing could have been better. Our
views were perfect.

" At Paris it was cool, windy, and showery, and
remarkably clear, so that from the Tour Eiffel we
could see the remotest horizon. The Exhibition
was tiring, but I succumbed to the attractions of
the Eiffel Tower."

AIX-LES-BAINS 225

To S.

H ALTON, loth Sept. 1890.

"You have no doubt heard all about our
journeyings and doings in Switzerland, but it will
interest you to have some account of my adventures
at Aix-les- Bains, where I was made such a fuss of
as never before in my life.

"On arriving at Aix at 9.30 on Tuesday
morning, I was met by Dr Brachet, and taken to
his house, where I was to stay. Then I was shown
over the baths and round the town by a junior
colleague of his. I met patients and people whom
I knew at every step, and almost the first— a Mr
Maguire — said to me, ' Oh, I am going to meet you
at dinner this evening at Lady Somers."

" I knew I was to dine there, but this was the
first intimation that there would be anything like a
dinner party, and not only had I no dress clothes,
but the frock coat I had taken was old and shabby.

" After luncheon Lady Sefton took me for a
long drive, with most lovely views over the lake and
mountains, landing me at Lady Somers' villa about
an hour before dinner, which gave time for a chat
with Lady Somers, and a walk in the garden.

" I think there were eighteen people to dinner,
and among them four countesses. It was a very
lively party, and we got back to Aix about 1 1 o'clock.
Next day Lady Sefton again drove me out to the
Villa Grecy — Lady Somers' — to lunch, and after
lunch Lady Somers took me to the Cataract-de-
Grecy, and there was a big dinner in the evening at
Dr Brachet's.

" On the Wednesday I again lunched at Lady
Somers, and sat next Mrs Benson, the wife of the
Archbishop of Canterbury. Lady Somers then
took me a very long drive, and at a final dinner

p

226 DALMENY

at the club, besides Ladies Somers and Sefton,
there were Christine Nilsson and her step-daughter.
Lady Somers insisted on going to the station to
see me off. Lady Somers is the ' Virginia ' of
Thackeray's letters, and is the most charming lady
I ever met.

" I sent her to Aix three years since, because
she was killing herself with work among the vicious
and poor of London, and she has remained there
ever since. Her villa is the most original and
pretty dwelling I ever saw, and she is the Lady
Bountiful of all the villages round. I never had a
more interesting drive than the one I had with her
on the Thursday afternoon."

In October he was summoned to Dalmeny to
see Lady Rosebery, who was dangerously ill with
typhoid fever, and he remained there for over a
fortnight.

To M.

DALMENY PARK,
igth Oct. 1890.

" Having been called up at 6 A.M., and the
morning being splendidly fine, I had a walk before
breakfast, round by the castle to a point on the
Forth from which the bridge is seen. It was
marvellously clear and bright, and every step was a
new enjoyment. Some of the rooks were having
breakfast on cockles, which they brought on
to the grass to open, and I found lots of newly
opened shells ; there were gulls also feeding,
and a few curlews stalking about on the sand,
making a plaintive but very musical cry, and from
time to time plunging their long beaks into the
wet sand."

MR GLADSTONE 227

27 th Oct. 1890.

"On Sunday morning when I woke up, the
ground was white with what looked like a heavy
hoar frost, but was really a light snow. The
distant hills, which I learn are the Ochils, were
more beautiful than ever covered with snow. They
are round-backed, however, and not picturesque as
mountains. Arthur's Seat, near Edinburgh, on the
other hand, looked like a real mountain — all the
more that its base was in mist, from which it seemed
to emerge.

" No time, as undergrads. say in exams."

DALMENY PARK,
Oct. 1890.

" I met Lord R. on my return, and he asked me
to wait with him for Mr and Mrs Gladstone, who
were coming over, and to have tea with them and
him at the castle, which, as you know, is at the
water's edge, two or three hundred yards from the
house. It is built on the site, and very much on
the model of the old castle, which had been allowed
to fall into ruins ; the main rooms are very fine.
On a large stone in the outer wall is the sentence
from Proverbs : ' Remove not the ancient landmark
which thy fathers have set up.'

"Mrs G. drove out from Edinburgh and arrived
first, and we met her, and walked with her towards
the castle. Just as we got to the gate of the
grounds round the building, Mr Gladstone came
up, having driven from the Forth Bridge, which he
had crossed on foot, and was very full of. He was
accompanied by Herbert Gladstone, Sir Jas. Car-
michael, whom I knew, and a Mr Campbell, and a
carriage load of reporters had followed them. The
latter were following into the grounds, but were
sharply ordered back by Lord R. Both Mr and

228 REMINISCENCE OF A HOUSE PHYSICIAN

Mrs G. questioned me about Lady R. But the
first business was that Mr G. should plant a tree,
and then a little boy born on the day of his visit
here on the occasion of the first Midlothian
campaign, and named after him, was presented.

" Mr and Mrs G. then renewed their attack on
me, so to speak, and we must have looked like three
conspirators standing in the dusk, with our heads
together, and speaking low on the damp lawn.
Mrs G. was anxious, not only as to her illness, but
as to what she was doing, and what consolation she
was receiving in religious matters.

" We then went to the castle, at the door of which
Lady Sybil and Lady Peggy received us, and con-
ducted us to the tea, which was spread in a very small
room, as no guests but Mr and Mrs G., and Lord R.
and myself were expected. It was a very pretty sight
— the two little girls at the end of the table, Mr G. on
their right with Lord R. next him, Mrs G. on their
left and I next her. I am bound to say that
Mrs G. had most of the actual tea-making to do,
but the little hesitations and mistakes added to the
charm. Lady Sybil, in going round to hand cakes
or something, whispered in my ear, ' Is this the
right side ? ' '

A reminiscence of his work at St Mary's
Hospital, by a former House Physician, may be
quoted here, as it refers to this period : —

ROUND THE WARDS

" It is a Thursday afternoon in the early nineties,
shortly after 2 o'clock, and there is the usual group
at the top of the stairs in the entrance hall of the
hospital waiting for Dr Broadbent — for it was
before he had been created a baronet. The group

ROUND THE WARDS 229

consists of his House Physician and clinical clerks,
an ex-house physician, some former clerks who
have learned to appreciate their chiefs erudition as
a clinician, one or two 'qualified' men, and a
French doctor, but comparatively few of the rank
and file of the students, for he was in no sense a
' popular ' teacher.

"It is 2. 20 before the 'great man' enters in
the staff attendance book his striking signature —
so characteristic of his force of character — he
shakes hands with his House Physician, goes
straight to Victoria Ward without waiting to go
to the staff room, gives his hat and coat to the
Sister, and a minute later is standing by 'No. 13'
bed (by the fireplace on the left-hand side of the
ward) ; he exchanges a word or two with his House
Physician, and then calls on the clerk of the case
to read the notes.

"It is a case of Aortic Aneurysm — he listens
intently to the notes, occasionally interrupting the
clerk to clear up a doubtful point in the history,
and while listening to the notes is examining
first one, and then the other radial artery,
with that careful and accurate touch which made
possible the publication of his now classical work
on 'The Pulse.' The clerk had failed to notice
that there was slight prominence of the super-
ficial veins, upon which Dr Broadbent points
out the omission, and takes the opportunity of
emphasising the importance of accurate inspection,
and then mentions that, though the dulness and
accentuated aortic second sound and systolic bruit
had been duly noted, no mention had been made
of a slight diastolic shock; he explains how
important an evidence of aneurysm this is, at the
same time indicating that the presence of a bruit
is a merely accidental and inconstant sign. He
gives no detailed exposition of all the possible signs

230 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

and symptoms of aneurysm in text-book style,
which no doubt accounts for the remark of a
third-year student that ' he is not a good teacher ' ;
but he lucidly and impressively demonstrates the
special features of the particular case, and those of
his following, who had themselves penetrated beneath
the surface of clinical medicine, notice that he is
the first to detect a slight modification of air entry
over the right front, indicative of commencing
pressure on the right bronchus. Then follows a
typical demonstration on the differential features of
the 'aneurysm of physical signs' (ist part) and the
'aneurysm of symptoms' (2nd part).

" The next case is one of early phthisis. The
clinical notes are detailed, but the clerk alludes to
'harsh breathing at the apex,' at which Dr Broad-
bent stops him, and asks what he means, pointing
out, with a characteristic insistence on accuracy of
description, that ' harsh breathing ' may mean any-
thing, from an exaggerated vesicular murmur to
puerile or bronchial breathing ; the diagnosis is
clear, so he wastes no time over it, and passes on
to consider the factors in prognosis with his usual
breadth of view and clearness of insight.

" Then follows a case of bronchitis. The
dyspnoea, the cough, the sputum, the inspiratory
retraction of the intercostal spaces, and the presence
of sibili and rhonchi are noted, but no reference is
made to the impaired air entry at the base of the
lungs. ' What you do not hear is often more
important than what you do hear,' is his comment.
He passes quickly by several beds, for his time is
limited ; but the remarks which pass between him
and his House Physician on their occupants are to
the point, and only those who have served as
his House Physician can realise how searching
and suggestive were those questions and quiet
criticisms.

ROUND THE WARDS 231

"The last patient to be seen in this ward is an
abdominal case. There was much pain and
abdominal distension, with occasional vomiting,
and the diagnosis of 'peritonitis' had been made!
After watching the action of the diaphragm, he
gently palpates for muscular rigidity, and is surprised
to find so little, but, while thus examining, slight
intestinal peristalsis is detected, which paves the
way for an altered diagnosis : the symptoms were
referable to intestinal obstruction — not to peritonitis,
as had been supposed.

" The clinique has now shifted to Albert Ward,
and the centre of interest is a man suffering from
right hemiplegia and aphasia. The condition of
the nervous system is fully described in the notes,
for the House Physician is anxious to leave as little
as possible by way of hiatus for his master to fill in,
and the clinical picture is complete. Broadbent
does not touch upon the typical features of hemi-
plegia, but proceeds to examine the thoracic move-
ments, and with evident pleasure once again
confirms the clinical basis of his now celebrated
hypothesis on the association of nerve nuclei in
relation to bilaterally associated muscles. He then
tells the patient to breathe deeply, gives a short
nervous cough, by no means unfamiliar to his pupils,
and proceeds to demonstrate the difference in the
movement of the two sides when voluntary impulses
come into play ; before he leaves the bedside he
shows the patient his watch, and produces from his
pocket a penknife, some silver coins and a sovereign,
to test the nature and degree of the speech defect.

" A typhoid patient is now approached. The
case is doing well, but none the less the clerk is
asked to read the last note, and a friendly thrust
is his for not having included in his daily purview,
besides the general condition of the patient, and the
pulse, respiration, and temperature, a full description

232 ST MARY'S HOSPITAL

of the abdominal signs, and details of the 24-hours
diet.

"An old case of mitral stenosis is next seen,
and the clerk shows Dr Broadbent some sphygmo-
graphic tracings of the radial pulse. He considers
them good of their kind, but observes the defects
of the instrument used in exaggerating the oscilla-
tions produced by the pulse wave, and takes the
opportunity of dilating upon the advantages of the
'educated' finger over instrumental aids — possibly
not himself realising how exquisitely his own tactile
sense had been developed by years of constant
training. Time does not allow of a systematic
description of the symptoms and signs of the lesion,
and the diagnosis is clear, so the clerk is questioned
straight-away on the prognosis of the case — whether
there is much or little stenosis ? — how far there is
efficient right heart compensation ?

"The time is almost spent, but, before his chief
leaves, the House Physician asks him to see a case
of pneumonia which has been in some days. The
patient is not ' doing well/ and there are symptoms
of heart failure. Dr Broadbent cites this as an
instance of heart failure being the special peril of
pneumonia, and proceeds to estimate the relative
importance of mechanical embarrassment of the
right side of the heart, and of muscular weakness
from the combined effects of the pyrexia and
toxaemia, and in so doing to illustrate that quickness
of grasp, breadth of view, soundness of clinical
perspective, and practical good sense in discriminat-
ing between essentials and non-essentials, which
were the basis of his great reputation as a scientific
physician and practical therapeutist.

" The visit is at an end ; with a cheery smile he
leaves Cambridge Ward and hurries away — for at
that time when his carriage drove off at 4 o'clock
his working day was barely half over ; at 1 2 o'clock

ROUND THE WARDS 233

he might have been seen in his study still hard at
work, grappling with the day's correspondence.

" One other reflection — with his unflagging keen-
ness as a scientific observer, Sir William Broadbent
combined the more humane qualities of the
sympathetic physician ; his quiet and somewhat
grave bearing at the bedside, without a trace of
affectation, inspired confidence, and one felt that
his opinion was as sincere as his grasp of the case
was thorough. Nor did he minimise the gravity
of mortal illness ; his demeanour in such a case
well accorded with a life and death struggle, and
his manner, and sometimes his words, showed that
he recognised that more than material issues were
involved.

"His work is done ; he has added imperishable
lustre to our Medical School, and has bequeathed
to those who come after an ennobling tradition of
fidelity to high clinical ideals. Requiescat in pace !

" St Mary's will see him no more ; but may the
memory of his life-work and example long hallow
the medical wards of the Hospital which he loved
and served for close on fifty years."

CHAPTER XV

THE DUKE OF CLARENCE

Illness of the Duke of York. Illness of the Duke of Clarence.
Death of the Duke. Interview with Queen Victoria. Letter
from the Prince of Wales.

DURING these years his reputation had been steadily
growing, and the names of men and women famous
in almost every walk of life begin to appear in his
appointment books and in his letters. With many
of them he was on terms of intimate friendship, and
his advice and decisions may at times have
influenced the destinies of the Empire. Men of
every party in political life — authors, artists, soldiers,
and clergy — all came to consult him, and although
he held no Court appointment at the time when
Prince George of Wales was attacked with typhoid
fever in November 1891, he was called in in con-
sultation, and was in daily attendance for more
than a month.

On the 26th of December 1891, he writes: —

" I ought to have answered your note long
since, but I have really time for nothing, and I get
very much knocked up. The attendance on Prince
George, besides adding to my ordinary work and

884

235

making me late every night, has robbed me of my
Sundays out of town, and the time I spend at
Maryborough House does not get less as he gets
better.

"Perhaps the most interesting incident was a
long interview with the Queen, when I saw four
generations of Royalty, the Duchess of Fife's baby
being there at the same time."

At the end of December Prince George was
able to be moved to Sandringham, and on the 2nd
of January 1892 Dr Broadbent, as he then was,
was invited by the Prince of Wales to spend the
week-end there, and much enjoyed the little visit,
writing home : —

SANDRINGHAM, yd Jan. 1892.

" I have had a pleasant time here, and the
weather to-day has been lovely. Last evening I
sat at dinner between Herkomer and Sir Francis
Knollys, and to-day at luncheon I was one of a
party of six at a small round table, the Prince and
Princess, the Duchess of Fife and Princess Victoria,
and Herkomer."

A week later he was again summoned to go
down, though without any intimation of the cause,
and on his arrival on Sunday morning found that
the Duke of Clarence was suffering from an attack
of influenza, complicated by a peculiarly dangerous
form of pneumonia. On the I2th of January he
wrote : —

To M.

11 1 shall be here for some days — unless, indeed,
we have a catastrophe — and you must do your best

236 DEATH OF THE DUKE OF CLARENCE

to satisfy people. This will, perhaps, be easier now
that we are issuing bulletins, and you know that
the less I hear about patients the better.

"The position here is difficult — much more
difficult and anxious than at any time during
Prince George's illness. Everyone is extremely
kind, which only adds to my own concern and
anxiety."

There were two days more of desperate struggle
against the deadly power of the insidious disease,
but on the 14th of January the end came, and
England was left to lament the loss of a Prince,
who even in his delirium had revealed how near to
his heart was the welfare of the nation, and how
earnestly he had tried to prepare himself for his
future responsibilities.

Dr Broadbent remained at Sandringham until
the next day, and then went to Osborne, as the
Queen had expressed a wish to see him.

He writes :—

To S.

17 th Jan. 1892.

" I was met by Dr Reid, and, as the Queen
preferred seeing me after luncheon, I had an hour's
chat with him and perhaps quarter of an hour with
the Princess Louise.

" The Queen sent for me about 3, and I had to
tell her the whole story of the illness. She was
sitting in an ordinary chair at a writing table, and
of course I had to stand. I was there almost
exactly an hour and a quarter.

" I was then told that Princess Christian

QUEEN VICTORIA 237

wanted to see me, and I was conducted to the
Duchess of Connaught's room on the floor above.
I could hardly crawl upstairs. I was kept standing
another 15 or 20 minutes talking to them and
Princess Beatrice. They were very pleasant and
cordial, but I was glad when the interview was
over.

' T1}e Queen looked wonderfully well, and was
greatly interested in my account. She is determined
to go to the funeral on Wednesday."

The letters which have been quoted were
written under stress of anxiety and exhaus-
tion, and their very curtness bears witness
to the depth of the feeling which could not be
expressed.

Of the Princess' devotion to her son and of her
unwearied and self- forgetful nursing he could never
speak without emotion, and the recollection of the
hours spent with her at the bedside of Prince Eddie,
and of the interviews with her after his death,
remained with him as a sacred memory.

The Prince of Wales wrote to him : —

OSBORNE, llh February 1892.

" MY DEAR DR BROADBENT, — There is no one
who stands higher in the medical profession in this
country than you do, and I am most anxious to ask
you to accept the appointment as my Physician-
in-Ordinary, not only on account of the high
position you hold, but as some mark of gratitude
and appreciation of the services you rendered
to our beloved sons during their dangerous
illnesses.

238 LETTER FROM THE KING

"It pleased God to take away one and leave
the other, but all that lay in your power, with the
knowledge of science and skill which you possess,
was done to save their lives. — Believe me, yours
very sincerely,

"ALBERT EDWARD."

CHAPTER XVI

84 BROOK STREET

1892. Removes to No. 84 Brook Street Baronetcy. The Duke of
York's Wedding. Switzerland.

IN 1892 he at last decided to move, and, after many
hesitations and delays, took possession of 84 Brook
Street, a much larger house with ample accommoda-
tion on the ground floor, and a hall with an old
Italian fireplace which made it unlike most London
residences.

Many will remember the small uncomfortable
consulting room at Seymour Street and the dining-
room, which was often so crowded that patients had
to be sent up to the drawing-room to wait their
turn, and doctors held their consultations in the
hall or on the staircase. It seems wonderful that
his practice should have grown to what it was with
so many drawbacks, and for years he had been
urged to remove into what was considered to be a
more professional neighbourhood ; but he steadfastly
refused to think of it till he had put by what he
considered sufficient to provide for his children, and
had settled on each of them a sum large enough to
make them secure against actual poverty.

240 84 BROOK STREET

He returned from his summer holiday, which
was spent in Switzerland as usual, to begin work in
his new rooms in September.

ToS.

H ALTON, nth Sept. 1892.

" You will have heard of our safe arrival at home
— already the new house feels like home, and it has to
me been very little of a wrench to leave the old one.
We have been very happy there, and God has
blessed us abundantly, but it is impossible to have
as much affection for a number in a street as one
has for a house in the country, and I trust that
God's blessing will go with us.

" Last week was an interesting and varied one,
and indeed my life is full of interest and variety.
The work is very hard, and I know no such thing
as leisure, except on my holiday, and sometimes
when I am here."

To J. E.

Christmas Day, 1892.

" I generally try to write to you during my
summer holiday, but this year I took some work
abroad with me in the hope of finishing my book on
Heart Disease, and, whenever I had time for any
writing at all, I spent it on this, and on an intro-
ductory lecture that I had to deliver at Owen's
College, Manchester.

" I really did a good deal, but a task of this
kind grows under one's hand, and I returned from
Switzerland apparently as far off the end as ever,
since which, I have never even looked at my manu-
script.

"It has been an eventful year, opening as it did

PHYSICIAN-IN-ORDINARY 241

with the tragic illness and death of the Duke of
Clarence. It is strange how short the years are as
one gets older, and yet how distant events seem
which have happened within the year.

" That time at Sandringham with all its pathetic
incidents appears to belong to a quite remote period
of my life.

" They have been very kind to me. You know,
of course, that the Prince made me one of his
Physicians-in-Ordinary, which among other things
gives me the entree at Court ; and I have been able
to be of great service to the hospital, the Duke of
York having, at my request, become President,
and the Prince of Wales having laid the foundation
stone of the new wing. In connection with this,
also, the Duke of York lunched with me on the
1 5th, which, of course, was a great honour.

" We afterwards drove — I in the carriage with
His Royal Highness — to the hospital, which I
showed him over. He was very much interested,
and at the Victoria Ward not only went round the
ward itself, but to the Sister's room, and spent at
least five minutes in it with her. She was one of
his nurses. On Saturday again, when the Prince
of Wales and Princess Maud went over part of the
hospital after the ceremony, he took them into her
little room.

" I am, of course, practically at the top of the
tree in my profession for the time being. I could
not conceal this from myself if I tried. But this
gives me no feeling of elation ; on the contrary, it
impresses me seriously when I think of it at all,
which is very rarely. So far as I know, I do my
work exactly in the same spirit, trying always to be
thorough and conscientious. My one concern is for
the children, and here one can do so little. I can
provide for them in some degree in a pecuniary
sense, but even in this respect they will, in a way,

242 84 BROOK STREET

come down in the world at my death, and, however
well off they might be, it would go but a small way
towards happiness. I can only prayerfully commend
them to the kind providence of God who has dealt
so bountifully with me.

" Perhaps the most interesting event of the year
has been our removal to Brook Street. It is really
a beautiful house, a great deal too good from one
point of view, i.e., accustoming the children to
appearances and comforts which they will scarcely
be able to command later, and which therefore they
may miss.

" I was compelled to move, however, by my
work, and — as far as one can be justified in living in
a fine house — was justified by my income and
position in taking this house when it offered itself.

" I have taken a good deal over ;£ 13,000 during
the year, but this cannot possibly be maintained,
and while it lasts it is slavery. What I feel most is
being away from Eliza and the children so fre-
quently on Sundays, and again at Christmas."

One letter, referring to the trial of Neil Cream,
the poisoner, whose crime was brought home to
him through a blackmailing letter which he had
written to Dr Broadbent, may be inserted here
on account of the interest which was roused in the
case at the time : —

To S.

HALTON, i$th July 1892.

" I hear that people in the neighbourhood are
excited about this dreadful poisoning case, in con-
nection with which my name has again appeared
in the papers, and you will no doubt be interested
to hear the facts direct from me.

BLACKMAILING LETTER 243

"I suppose I was selected as one of the
victims because I was attending Prince George
This was at the end of November. I at once
put the matter into the hands of the police, and
a trap was laid for the writer. An advertisement
was put in the Chronicle, as he directed, and he
was told to come to the house, where we had
two detectives in ambush for two or three days.

" However, he never turned up, or made any
further sign, and I thought no more about it till
the new case of blackmailing came out, and the
man was caught, when, of course, I recognised
the work of the same scoundrel. But I should
not have taken the trouble to proceed against
him, and should not have appeared in the case,
had it not been that the girl he accused me of
poisoning was not known to have been poisoned
at all.

" When the police observed this, they began
to make inquiries, and soon found that the
certificate of death had been given by a medical
man who had not seen the girl, and that the
symptoms had been like those of strychnine
poisoning ; upon which an order to exhume the
body was obtained, and it was ascertained that
she had actually died from the effects of strych-
nine. It was, of course, at once clear that this
man, who was the only person who knew that the
wretched girl had been poisoned, was the man
who had poisoned her. The letter to me was
thus of cardinal importance ; it pointed out the
criminal, and, once having the right clue, other
evidence has rapidly accumulated, and a perfect
network of proof appears to have been thrown
around him.

" When the Police Inspector explained this to
me, I had no choice but to give evidence, first
at the Police Court on Monday, then at the

244 84 BROOK STREET

inquest on Thursday, and I shall have to attend
again, when the final trial comes on at the Old
Bailey.

"It has cost me a good deal of time and caused
me great inconvenience, so that the scoundrel has
blackmailed me after all, though not exactly to his
own advantage. He little thought that in writing
to me he was putting his neck into the noose."

A Baronetcy was conferred on Dr Broadbent
in 1893, on the occasion of the marriage of the
Duke of York ; but it seemed at one time as if
his enjoyment of the honour would be short, for
early in 1894 he had a very sharp attack of
pneumonia and was dangerously ill. As soon as
he could be moved he went with his family to
Halton, the beautiful country house which Mr
Alfred de Rothschild most kindly placed at his
disposal, and from there his wife and daughters
accompanied him to Cannes to complete his
convalescence. While still away, they received a
telegram calling them back to London, as the
second son, who was acting as House Physician
at St Mary's Hospital, had been attacked with
diphtheria and was in extreme danger. Sir
William's health was fortunately so far re-established
as to enable him to stand the strain of the long
journey and of the anxiety of the next few weeks,
and a holiday in August in Switzerland completed
his restoration to his normal strength and vigour.

He had for some years spent four or five weeks
every summer among the Swiss mountains, usually
selecting some place 5000 or 6000 feet high, among

INTEREST IN LONGWOOD 245

his favourite resorts being the Eggishorn, Rieder
Furka, and Bel Alp ; and this year he took not only
his own children with him, but also Miss Field, to
whom his eldest son was engaged, and the Rev. H.
P. M. Lafone, to whom his second daughter was to
be married.

A sorrow, which touched him almost as nearly
as if it had affected one of his own sons, came to
him during this same year, in the long illness of the
only son of his dead brother, his nephew Arnold,
who had been married little over a year and died in
January 1895.

In his prosperity he had not forgotten his native
village, and in 1892 had established at Longwood a
District Nurse, the first in the whole neighbourhood,
whose services were so much appreciated that when,
after his death, it became necessary to make other
arrangements, a meeting was held at which every
shade of religious and political feeling was repre-
sented, for once combining in harmony, and the
number of those who volunteered subscriptions to
carry on the work exceeded nine hundred, the
majority of the contributions being promised by the
working men themselves.

Some years later he purchased an old quarry
at the top of the Edge, which was in danger of
being turned into a dust tip, and had the ground
levelled and planted, making a beautiful playground
for the children, and a sheltered walk which com-
mands a fine view of the hills. This he presented
to the town in commemoration of Queen Victoria's

246 84 BROOK STREET

Jubilee, and, since the rapid increase of building
in the neighbourhood, it has become a valuable
open space.

To S.

4/4 December 1892.

" I read over the regulations you have drawn
up for the nurse, and I approve of them. I enclose
^10, for preliminary expenses and a week or two's
salary, also my ^5 for the Longwood poor, which
I was nearly forgetting. I shall be glad to send
more if you can find employment for it in these
bad times. I can very well afford it : I am making
a great deal of money, and I have no use for it
except to provide for the children, and to try and
make the lot of those who are suffering a little
easier. Of course the expense of coming to this
house has been very great, and there will be
expense in keeping it up, but I have paid every-
thing out of the year's income and saved a fair
amount besides."

To S.

H ALTON, yh March 1893.

" I am glad to hear that Nurse is proving so
useful and so acceptable. You must always let
me know when you want money. I may not think
of it in time. We must not let her usefulness be
crippled for want of a little money, and Nurse must
be made thoroughly comfortable.

"Three weeks since I was called to the Dean of
Christchurch, Oxford, Sir James Paget's son. I
went down on the Thursday, Friday, and Saturday
— remaining over Sunday. I was of real service,
first in relieving their minds, and next in directing
the treatment.

BARONETCY 247

" I think that of all my professional experiences
this was the most gratifying, I have always
looked up to and reverenced Sir James Paget,
and to have been privileged to render him a
service, such as that of contributing to his favourite
son's recovery, was an event in my life.

" I went to the Levee, as you would hear. It is
a comfort to have the entree. Instead of waiting
an hour or two in a crowd and crush, I simply had
fifteen or twenty minutes' chat with men whom it
is a pleasure to meet — Sir James Paget, Lord
Rosebery, the Duke of Abercorn, Mr Arnold
Morley, and others."

To S.

HALTON, Zthjuly 1893.

" I was sure you would be pleased to hear that
the Queen had conferred a Baronetcy on me. I
thought that probably the marriage of the Duke
of York might be the occasion for this acknow-
ledgment of my services during his illness, but I
supposed that I should first be apprised of the
intention, and as I had heard nothing of it till
Wednesday, I had quite ceased to expect it. I
was not at all disturbed in my mind, although I
could not but see that the idea would enter the
public mind that I had in some way lost the
confidence of the Prince and Princess. It was
sufficient for me that they were as kind and cordial
as ever, and I was content to wait. The delay till
the Royal Wedding was, in fact, as you will have
seen, an act of thoughtful kindness.

" Dr Vivian Poore, who was medical attendant
of the Duke of Albany, gave me a very positive
hint, but I took no notice of it, and did not tell
Eliza. Soon afterwards Dr Reid, the Queen's
Resident Physician told me definitely that she had

248 84 BROOK STREET

mentioned it to him, and congratulated Eliza as
Lady Broadbent. The first I heard was at the
Garden Party at Marlborough House.

" We were dining that evening with Mr and
Mrs Buxton, and after we had started in the
carriage, we had to turn back.

"Just as we got to the house, a messenger
arrived with a letter from Mr Gladstone's private
secretary containing the official intimation.

"It is wonderful that from our dear modest
home and simple ways I should have come to be
on terms of intimacy with the Royal Family, and
have placed our names on the list of hereditary
titles. But ' there's dealins with us, there's dealins
with us,' as Silas Marner says. It is not my merit
but the Providence of God, and, as I like to think,
the unexpended blessings promised to our dear
father and mother which have brought me so
much success and honour. God help me that I
may not forfeit these blessings, but hand them
down to our children.

" The Garden Party was very interesting.
There must have been at least 2000 people there,
so that we were very thick on the ground, and it
was really quite difficult to get to see the Royal
Personages. Lanes were made in the direction in
which the Queen was expected to pass, but she
only walked to and from a single tent not far from
the gate.

"Almost the first person we met was Lord
Dufferin. We very soon came across Sir James
Paget and his son, the Dean of Christchurch, and
Mrs Paget, who were very keen on seeing the
Queen. We stood with them some time in one
of the lanes of people.

"We saw, at different times, I think all the
Queen's daughters, the Duke and Duchess of
Fife, the Duke and Duchess of Wellington, the

WEDDING OF THE DUKE OF YORK 249

Duke of Abercorn, the Marquis of Bath, and
Lord Londonderry ; Lady Dudley, who looks as
young as the Princess ; Lord Rosebery, who shook
hands with me very cordially ; the Russian and
Austrian Ambassadors, Millais, Leighton, and a
host of others.

"On the Wedding Day I had a seat in the
Armoury. Also I saw the signatures of the
witnesses of the marriage. After a time I went
down into the hall, where the guests had begun to
gather to witness the departures, and here I found
myself sitting on a form next to Lord Dufferin, with
whom I had a long chat. I also came across the
Duke of Abercorn, who said, ' I congratulate you,
Broadbent, I mean Sir William,' and I had a chat
with him.

" One incident was a flutter of Royal grand-
children and great-grandchildren, all in white, going
chattering upstairs with the bridesmaids, convoyed
by nurses.

"As the time for the departure approached, the
Prince of Wales, with the Duke of Edinburgh,
Lord Lome, Prince Henry of Battenberg, and
Prince Christian formed a group at the door of a
large room opening into the hall, and everybody
expected the bride and the Duke of York to
emerge by this door, so a lane was gradually
formed: the Beef-eaters indeed took up their
stations along this line.

"After a time they suddenly appeared corning
down the Grand Staircase, which was at right
angles. I happened to be standing exactly facing
it, so that I saw them very well. She was leading,
and he was laughing as if he had planned it for a
joke. The carriage was, of course, waiting, and
as they got into it they were pelted with rice,
chiefly, I think, by Prince Henry of Battenberg,
and the slipper was thrown.

250 84 BROOK STREET

"An enormous bundle of letters and telegrams
were placed in the Equerries' carriage which followed,
and off they drove amid cheers.

" Another delay of some duration now followed.
Nearly everybody who remained had gone outside,
and here there was more conversation under the
porch. Here I had quite a long talk with Mrs
Gladstone — Mr Gladstone having gone to the
House — and with Lord and Lady Breadalbane.
Lord Breadalbane as Lord High Steward had
had a great deal to do with the arrangements,
and it was he who proposed the health of the
bride and bridegroom at the luncheon.

" The Prince also caught sight of me, and came
up and congratulated me, and asked me various
questions. Finally the Royal Family and guests
drove off."

To J. E.

EGGISHORN, 27 th August 1893.

" We had already started for our holiday when
your telegram arrived. It caught us up at Thun,
where we spent three days by way of rest. Then
on Monday the i4th we went to the Wengern Alp,
which is now crossed by a Rigi railway — a great
desecration, but I am bound to acknowledge in my
advancing years, a great convenience.

" On Wednesday we descended by train to
Grindelwald, and then went over the Scheideck on
foot and horseback to Rosenlaui. Thursday night
we spent at Meiringen, Friday night at the
Grimsel Hospice, and we reached the Eggishorn in
time for dinner on Saturday.

" So far we have had splendid weather, and
every day I have been able to take a good long
walk. While here, I have twice been up the
Eggishorn, which is still within my capacity,

SWITZERLAND 251

though it takes me two hours. The weather, while
very fine for us, has been rather too unsettled to
allow the boys to do any very serious climbing ; but
on the way here John went from the Grimsel to the
Oberaarjoch Hut, where he spent a short and
uncomfortable night, and at i A.M. on Saturday
started for the Finsteraarhorn, joining us here soon
after we arrived. . . .

" It was strange that your first intimation of the
Baronetcy was through the letters from home. Of
course I am glad to have this recognition of my
position in the profession, and it will be of service,
inasmuch as the public run after a title. I look
upon it as marking the end of the militant part of
my career, and I shall have less hesitation in refus-
ing work. My chief pleasure in the honour is the
position it gives Eliza, and will, in the course of
time, give John.

" Eliza had to put up with a good deal that
was unpleasant and trying in the early part of our
married life, and I am happy to make her some sort
of return for her patience and self-denial. Then it
gave intense pleasure to Arthur, and your telegram
and letters testify to the satisfaction it has afforded
you. Longwood takes credit to itself on the
occasion.

" One point which gave me great pleasure was,
that father's and mother's names will be associated
with mine in the official records.

" I was glad also to bring in Longwood as part
of my description. Nothing could have been more
gratifying than the way in which the honour has
been received by the profession. I was over-
whelmed by letters of congratulation, some of ^ them
quite touching by their warmth and sincerity."

CHAPTER XVII

SOCIAL LIFE

Sandringham. R.A. Dinner. Lord Rosebery at the National
Liberal Club. Queen's Birthday Dinner at the Prime
Minister's. Retirement from St Mary's Hospital. Marriage
of Princess Maud and Prince Charles.

HE had now reached what may be called, from one
point of view, the most successful period of his
career, and was reaping the reward of all the years
of quiet work in public recognition of his position
and in incessant demands on his time.

It is literally true to say that for many years,
during the busiest months of the London season, he
had every day to refuse at least twice as much work
as he accepted, and his life was an unceasing rush,
without even time for meals — lunch often consisting
of a rice pudding eaten in the carriage, and dinner
being on many evenings a chop and dry toast,
which was his invariable choice when he could not
return home from a long round of consultations or
a country journey, at a reasonable hour.

He was of course urged to limit his work in
London by raising his fees, and to a small extent

he did so; but he did not wish that his attendance
m

SUCCESS 253

should be confined to the rich only, as he felt very
strongly that those who could not afford to pay
large fees might often be the ones most in need of
his services.

Many patients he saw without fee, as do all
medical men, and many, even during the period of
his hardest work, at a reduction ; but this was done
only at the request of the medical man by whom the
patient was introduced, and he was obliged to make
a rule to refuse to consider any such suggestions
unless they came from a doctor.

Kind-hearted and philanthropic ladies seem to
forget that, in asking a man whose time is valuable
to see their prottgtes for less than his usual fee,
they are not asking him to give time and thought
which would otherwise be unemployed, but are
expecting him also to sacrifice work for which he
would be paid ; and it was curious to note how
many people, who were absolutely unknown to him,
thought it a valid reason for appealing to him to
give them a gratis consultation, to say that they had
spent all they could afford on other doctors before
coming to him.

In his eldest daughter he found a willing and
efficient secretary, and it was possible for her
to fill the post because he wrote all professional
letters himself, and could never form the habit
of dictating. When tired he was not a ready or
fluent speaker, although he could write with less
effort, and the only available hours for corre-
spondence, from 10 o'clock P.M. (or later, if he was

254 SOCIAL LIFE

dining out) till 12 or i A.M., would have made it
difficult for anyone not living in the house to be of
use to him.

To Miss J.

84 BROOK STREET,
i$tk Feb. 1893 (Wednesday}.

11 My only chance of seeing you at all is for you
to come to lunch or dinner, and then I have not
much time for chat. My life is one continual hurry
— only this evening one of my daughters was
reminding me that I had not dined at home since
Thursday, and the very first chance of dining at
home will be on Monday. To-morrow I go to
Stevenage, on Friday to Devonshire, on Saturday
to Tring. Friday or Tuesday would be the best
day to come to lunch (I do not start for Devon-
shire till 3 P.M.), and by all means bring your friend
to lunch also."

To M.

SANDRINGHAM,
Sunday, zStb January 1894.

" The first person I met was Sir James Paget,
whom I am always glad to see, and it was a great
pleasure to find that he was coming. Then, when
I got to the train, the equerry came up and told me
that the Prince had given orders that I was to
travel in his carriage together with Sir James
Paget. We had therefore to wait till the Prince
came, which was two or three minutes later. The
other selected occupants were Sir Evelyn Wood
and Sir Redvers Duller ; the latter I had seen once
before, and his name gradually dawned on me.
Both are interesting men, and in the course of the

DEATH OF A NEPHEW 255

evening each was telling campaigning stories of
the other, as both served in the Ashanti War. I
sat between them at dinner. During dinner
Gottlieb's band played in the next room, and after
dinner in the hall. The music was excellent.

" Sir Evelyn Wood, who is very deaf, crept up
as near as he could to the musicians, and in one of
the pauses he said to me, ' Are you fond of music ? '
I answered, 'Yes.' 'Do you play anything?' I
said, ' No.' ' Well,' he went on, ' I am so fond of it
that, would you believe it, I began to practise
scales at 24. But one day my sister came up and
put her hand on my shoulder and said, " My dear
boy, you had better give that up," and so I did.'
He also told me that he began life as a sailor, then
went to the bar, and finally entered the army. The
only profession he had not tried was the Church,
and his enemies say he would have tried that, only
he did not know what Church to choose."

To /. E.

t>th January 1895.

" I like to write to you when any event of
importance happens in the family, and Arnold's
death is certainly such. It is a calamity to the
family and neighbourhood, second only to the
death of Butterworth.

"The funeral was grand in its simplicity and in
the deep emotion evinced on every side. I was
not myself in the mood to be observant, but I could
not help seeing the tearful faces of those who lined
the path up the chapel yard.

"There was snow on the ground, and it had
been snowing early in the day, but it was beauti-
fully fine during and after the funeral. There was
a purplish mist over Golcar flat, which hid the
distant hills but softened the church spire and the

256 SOCIAL LIFE

mill chimneys. A cloud projected over Golcar
from the shoulder of Moleshead Hill, from under
which the sun shone brightly, lighting up the mist
and snow. The effect altogether was beautiful and
poetical, and gave a tone not to be conveyed in
words, to one's feelings. The lower end of the
reservoir had snow-covered ice on it, the rest being
unfrozen and in glittering waves.

" I have twice attended funerals in Westminster
Abbey — Sir Andrew Clark's and Lord Coleridge's
— but with all the accessories of venerable surround-
ings and splendid ceremonial and music, there was
nothing that was so moving as the simple service
in Longwood Chapel."

The marriage of Sir William's eldest son, John,
took place in February 1895, an(^ that of his
daughter Gertrude in April of the same year.

He writes : —

To S.

\\th May 1895.

" Gertie and Pownall have had a very happy
honeymoon, and she returned quite radiant. Life
cannot be all pitched in the same high key of
happiness, and a toning down must come ; but it is
always something to have had a moment of exultant
joy and unalloyed pleasure, and I hope and pray
that they may continue to walk in the light.

" I must tell you about the Academy dinner.
It is held in the large room where all the principal
pictures are. A long table runs along the side of
the room, at which the Royalties, Ambassadors,
Archbishops, Ministers and Ex - Ministers, and
Dukes sit ; and eight or nine other tables stand
perpendicularly to this for the Academicians and
other guests.

ROYAL ACADEMY DINNER 257

"There were so many Royalties that even so
distinguished a man as Lord Dufferin was placed
at one of these. I was between Yeames and
Marcus Stone, both very pleasant. Opposite to
me was the Dean of St Paul's.

" The dinner was not particularly good, and, as
was to be expected when there were so many to
serve, the dishes were mostly cold, but of course
the food was of secondary importance.

" Marcus Stone lived with Dickens for ten or
twelve years, and told me a good deal about him.
Millais was very hoarse ; he has a tumour in the
larynx, probably malignant, and proposed all the
toasts, except one or two, without speeches.

" As the Queen's health was drunk, the gallery
was suddenly lighted up, which had a striking effect.
Millais' reference to Leighton was very simple and
touching : besides this, Lord Rosebery's was the
only really interesting speech.

" Before and after the dinner everybody stood
about and chatted. The first person who spoke to
me as I entered was the Duke of Teck : the Prince
shook hands with me before dinner, and I had a
long conversation after dinner with the Duke of
York. Others with whom I chatted were the
Russian and Austrian Ambassadors, Lord Rose-
bery, Lord Reay, Herkomer, and Sir Frank
Lockwood. Lord Rosebery asked me to go to
the Durdans next morning, and I had another
pleasant Sunday there.

" You will have heard of Lord Rosebery breaking
down in his speech at the National Liberal ^Club.
The papers have made a great deal of it, but it was
really very slight. He had had a very hard day,
and had entertained twenty people at dinner.
Then it was a disorderly sort of audience, and he
had not prepared his speech but was thinking it
out as he went along, when suddenly he lost the

258 SOCIAL LIFE

thread, and had to ask someone what he had said
last, after which he went on as if nothing had
happened.

" I heard of it the same night at the Duchess of
Devonshire's party. There was a great crowd as
usual at Devonshire House, and we saw a certain
number of interesting people. The one I cared
most about was Lady Dufferin, whom we came
across just before we left. The Duke of Devon-
shire came up to her just at the same moment.

" On Friday I had to preside at the annual
meeting of the Invalid Children's Aid Association,
held at Lord Brassey's house in Park Lane — which
I did not like, but May works for this Society,
which is really one of the most useful I know."

To S.

•2&th May 1895.

" I must give you a short account of the dinner
last evening. It is not likely I shall dine again
with the Prime Minister on the occasion of the
Queen's birthday : the distinction is the greatest I
have ever had, and it was all the greater as Lord
Rosebery had to entertain the Ambassadors, who
would, under ordinary circumstances, have dined
with Lord Kimberley, the Foreign Minister : this
left room for fewer non-official guests.

" I arrived at Downing Street exactly at
8 o'clock, and found about ten people already there,
mostly officials. The arrivals were then rapid, and
there were soon collected in the room all the
Ambassadors, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the
Lord Chief Justice, Lord Tweedmouth, Lord
Leigh, Lord Brassey, and others. I knew a
sufficient number of them to make the time pass
pleasantly till the Prince came.

QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY DINNER 259

" Lord Rosebery told me he had been to New-
market and back that day, to see his horse which is
to run in the Derby on Wednesday.

'The Prince, on his arrival, went round and
shook hands with everybody, and, soon after, we
filed in to dinner. I was between Mr Acland,' the
Minister of Education, and Mr Waterfield, and

chatted first with one and then the other with

Mr Acland about the Opium Commission and
Debate, and about appointments in his department.
He said the Government would fall with dignity,
but did not think it would be very soon.

" At the end of dinner, Lord Rosebery suddenly
started to his feet, and said, 'The Queen,' upon
which we all stood up, and the band played, ' God
Save the Queen.'

"This was the only toast. Cigars were then
handed round, and coffee, and after a short time we
returned to the room in which we had assembled,
where, again, we stood about and talked. As the
Prince did not sit down, no one else could, except
Count Hatzfeld, who appears to have heart disease,
and Rustem Pasha, who looked as if he had got
out of his coffin to come to the dinner. They asked
to be excused after a short time.

"The Duke of York had come in, and I shook
hands with him. Of course, in the presence of
Ambassadors and Ministers, I kept in the back-
ground ; but the Prince wanted to speak to me, so
he sent Lord Rosebery, who, by way of pretext,
said he wished to show me the portrait of a former
Prime Minister, who had died of influenza, which
was near the Prince.

"Finally, about 11.30, he left, and so did every
one else. There was a reception at Lord Tweed-
mouth's, to which he and most of the guests were
going, and it was evident that he had preferred to
remain smoking his cigar in peace and quietness.

260 SOCIAL LIFE

" As Lord Tweedmouth's house is in Park Lane,
I thought I might as well finish off there."

In 1896 Sir William Broadbent's time as
physician to St Mary's Hospital came to an end,
although, by the unanimous wish of his colleagues,
it had been extended for five years beyond the
period which was supposed to be the limit of any
appointment to the staff.

On his retirement he was presented with some
beautiful silver, and on the evening of the day on
which the meeting for the presentation had been
held, he invited as many as possible of his old
house physicians and residents to dinner. Thirty-
eight of them managed to be present, their ages
ranging from twenty-five to fifty, and, as many of
them were country practitioners who had not met
for years, the opportunity of comparing notes and
seeing old friends was thoroughly enjoyed.

He had been Censor of the College of Physicians
in 1889, and had served his year of office as Senior
Censor in 1895, and at the election for President in
1896, he was second on the list, although at that
time he did not desire the post, which would have
meant a heavy pecuniary sacrifice, and a large
amount of work of a kind which was irksome and
uncongenial.

In the next year, 1897, ne was elected a
Fellow of the Royal Society, an honour which he
valued much, and owed to his early scientific work ;
and in 1898 the honorary degree of LL.D. was

WEDDING OF PRINCESS MAUD 261

conferred on him by the University of Edinburgh,
and he was also appointed Physician Extraordinary
to Her Majesty Queen Victoria.

In the following year he was made an Hon.
LL.D. of St Andrews.

To S.

84 BROOK STREET,
2-znd July 1896.

"On Monday I had a special invitation from
the Princess to go and see the presents. She and
Princess Maud took me round, and I was intro-
duced to Prince Charles. For the wedding, I had a
seat in the chapel, and an invitation to the luncheon.

" The altar rails did not extend across the
chapel, but left a space for seats on each side.
Chairs were placed ready for the Queen and Princess
of Wales opposite the left of the altar rails, and for
other members of the Royal Family and suite
forming the Queen's procession.

"It was a long time to wait, from 11.20 to
12.30, but I was between Sir Francis de Winton
and Canon Dalton, and just behind Lady Knollys,
all of whom I knew, and others whom I knew were
within conversational reach, so that it was not very
tedious.

" The first to appear were, of course, the clergy ;
the Archbishop and the two bishops went to the left
of the altar, the other three clergymen to the right.
Within a few minutes of the half-hour the Queen
came in, everyone, of course, standing up. She
walked better than I expected, supported (I think)
by the Duke of Connaught, who let her down
gently into her chair.

"The music, with which her entrance was
accompanied, had quite finished, and there was a

262 SOCIAL LIFE

rather long and awkward pause before the proces-
sion of the Princess of Wales made its appearance.
The Court officials around me were looking at each
other, and shaking their heads.

" However, the Princess soon arrived, and after
bowing to the Queen, she took her seat to her left
and slightly behind her. The Duke and Duchess
of York, the Duke and Duchess of Teck, and the
Duke of Cambridge, as they passed the Queen, all
bowed profoundly, and I noticed that the Duchess
of Teck also bowed to the Archbishop.

"Then came the bridegroom's procession,
making, of course, their bows, and taking their
places opposite the Queen, Prince Charles close to
the altar rail.

" Finally, Princess Maud was led in by the
Prince of Wales, who stood behind her ; Princess
Victoria and the other bridesmaids followed and
stood close up. The Archbishop performed the
entire ceremony.

"The ceremony began at 12.55, and ended at
1.25. Princess Maud was kissed on both cheeks
by the Prince and Princess and the Queen. The
Princess also kissed Prince Charles, and then when
he stooped to kiss the Queen's hand, she drew him
to her and kissed him. It was all very natural and
touching.

" They then left — the bride and bridegroom
leading, the Queen going last. The Queen herself,
before she left, made a graceful bow to the Arch-
bishop and bishops.

" On leaving the chapel, we went down a flight
of steps to a long gallery, on each side of which,
separated by crimson cords, were people who had
been admitted to the palace to see the processions.
We were kept here for some time, while the signa-
tures were being attached to the register of
marriage, but it passed very pleasantly. Sir Walter

WEDDING OF PRINCESS MAUD 263

Parratt joined me, and I had chats with Mr and
Mrs Chamberlain, the Duke of Abercorn, Lord
Rosebery, Lord James, Canon Harvey, and various
other people.

"At the Duke of York's wedding, we had to
take luncheon standing, but on this occasion it was
served on a number of round tables, seating ten or
twelve people. You sat down anywhere. At my
table were four Danish officers, old Admiral Keppel,
two or three whom I did not know, and, seeing
Sir Walter Parratt wandering round, I called to
him to take a chair next to me.

"It was a good luncheon, and I was hungry,
and the chat was pleasant. At neighbouring tables
were seated the Archbishop, the Duke of Norfolk,
Lord Rosebery. A band was playing in a gallery
at one end of the room.

"At the finish the health of the Queen, the
Prince and Princess of Wales, the King and Queen
of Denmark, and the bride and bridegroom was
drunk.

" Then came another long wait in, I think, the
banqueting-hall, but this was even less tedious than
the one before luncheon. I had quite a long talk
with Mrs Chamberlain, and was with them when
Sir W. Harcourt, who is an enormous man, bore
down on Mr Chamberlain, who is rather slight and
not very tall, and began to chaff him at the defeat
of the Government, which had taken place during
the wedding, telling him that he was neglecting
his duties, etc., etc.

" I had seen a messenger with a despatch box
hurrying about in search of someone.

" Finally, we had to run the gauntlet of all the
Royalties (not the Queen), who stood in a long row,
headed by the Princess and the Bride, and it was
pleasant to see and feel that it was not a mere
formal shake of the hand that was given by more

264 SOCIAL LIFE

than one of them. The clasp of the Princess and
her look were very cordial, and there was eagerness
and sincerity in Princess Maud's thanks for my
good wishes, while Prince Charles gave me a
regular sailor's grip."

Sir William never underestimated the value of
holidays, and it was probably partly due to the
fact that he was able so completely to leave his
work behind, and to enjoy the relaxation which
comes from entire change of thought and scene,
that he was so little affected by the incessant
strain of his life in town, and so quickly recovered
from it.

He did not take to any form of sport, and was
perfectly satisfied to spend his time in long walks,
finding sufficient satisfaction in the companionship
of Nature in her various moods, or in the society of
some member of his family, or a congenial friend,
choosing always the mountains if possible, and for
many years avoiding towns or the seaside, which
seemed to have no attractions for him.

In the autumn of 1896 he went over to
Dublin for the marriage of his second son, Walter,
with Edith, only daughter of the Right Hon.
John Monroe, formerly Judge of the High Court
of Justice in Ireland, and stayed at the Judge's
country house, overlooking Dalkey Bay.

Although Sir William Broadbent had many
warm Irish friends, this was the first non-profes-
sional visit which he had paid to the country ; and
it was so much enjoyed that it was repeated two

VISITS TO IRELAND 265

years later, when he, with his wife and daughter,
also went to Clandeboye, as the guests of Lord
and Lady Dufferin, on which occasion he gave an
address on Tuberculosis at Belfast.

Twice again he crossed to Ireland, but each
time with a sorrowful heart. In September
1899, Judge Monroe, who had been ill for some
time, suddenly became worse, and passed away
before Sir William could be with him, while his
widow, who never recovered from the shock, died
a few days later.

It was in January 1902 that he paid his last
visit to Lord Dufferin, for whom he always had
the greatest admiration and affection, and he
valued almost more than anything which he pos-
sessed "The Book of Helen's Tower," with its
inscription in Lord Dufferin's own hand, dated
3rd February 1902 (perhaps the very last words
which he wrote), which was sent to him after he
returned to London.

In 1897 he spent a summer in England, taking
a house in Hertfordshire in order to be within easy
reach of Lady Salisbury, whom he was seeing
frequently in consultation, and in the following
spring he accompanied Lord Salisbury to the
Riviera, and paid his first visit to Italy, spending a
short time at Rome, Florence, and Naples, where,
with his wife and two daughters, he enjoyed the
hospitality of the late Mr George Rendel at his
beautiful villa at Posilippo.

266 SOCIAL LIFE

To J. E.

2ist May 1898.

" Everything in Italy surpassed my expectations,
and my juvenile faculty of wonder and admiration,
which had been dormant for years, was quite re-
awakened. Our stay at Rome was made extremely
interesting by Dr Charles, who has been in prac-
tice in Rome for twelve years. He is a most
enthusiastic antiquarian, and seems to know every
stone in Rome. He gave us two hours daily, and
took us to the Forum, or Palatine, and, one day
each, to the Coliseum and the Baths of Caracalla.
I learnt more of Old Rome from these visits, and
was more penetrated by its spirit and history, than
if I had read up books for months."

TVS.

6th May 1900.

" I have not written to you for a long time. From
Christmas onwards my work was overwhelming,
and I was looking forward to my rest at Easter
with great longing. I thought I should just last
out, but a late journey to Chislehurst on a very cold
day, and only getting home to dinner at 9.30 or
9.45 was too much for me. My rest and change at
Plymyard and Bettws-y-Coed have quite restored
my health and have given me a good deal of
strength, and I hope, with God's blessing, to keep
well. Whitsuntide is not far off, and I shall have
another little holiday then.

" Since I got back the work has been tremendous.
I never had five such days, but it will slacken off.
I was at the great Empire League banquet on
Monday evening, and at Lincoln's Inn on Tuesday.

EMPIRE LEAGUE BANQUET 267

The banquet was a very interesting occasion, and
Lord Salisbury's and Mr Chamberlain's speeches
were important. I had little chats with the Prince,
the Duke of York, Lord Salisbury, the Dukes of
Devonshire and of Abercorn."

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST TUBERCULOSIS

The Crusade against Tuberculosis. Formation of the National
Association for the Prevention of Consumption.

IT is hardly possible to omit some reference to
the formation of the National Association for the
Prevention of Consumption, and to the part which
was taken by Sir William Broadbent in the crusade
against tuberculosis.

The growth of scientific knowledge, the dis-
covery of the tubercle bacillus, and the evidence
from the results of experiment and treatment,
especially in Germany, that the disease was both
preventable and capable of arrest, and that the
agents in either case were such as would conduce to
a high standard of general health, and were largely
within the control of the patient himself, made many
who were interested in the subject feel the necessity
of making this knowledge common property.

The question was discussed in his own house ;
men were invited to meet one another and talk it
over ; Mr Malcolm Morris (now Sir Malcolm),
devoted a special number of The Practitioner, of

MEETING AT MARLBOROUGH HOUSE 269

which he was at that time editor, to the sub-
ject ; a conference was summoned by a number of
representatives of the medical profession, at which
it was decided to form the association, and the
work was inaugurated.

Sir William Broadbent was elected Chairman of
the Organising Committee, and the movement was
fortunate in enlisting the sympathy of His Majesty
the King, then Prince of Wales, who called a
private meeting at Marlborough House on the 2oth
of December 1898.

Sir William Broadbent placed before the meet-
ing, on behalf of the Organising Committee of the
National Association for the Prevention of Con-
sumption, a brief statement of their objects and
methods, and after referring to the loss of life
caused by tuberculosis, and the knowledge which
had been gained of the way in which infection
might be spread, said : —

"It is the realisation of these facts which has
called into existence the National Association for
the Prevention of Consumption and other forms of
Tuberculosis. The mission of the Association is to
carry into every dwelling in the land an elementary
knowledge of the mode in which consumption is
propagated, and of the means by which its spread
may be prevented, and thus to strengthen the
hands of medical men throughout the country who
are dealing with individual cases of this disease.
To this end the public attention must be captured,
the public imagination must be impressed, the
defensive instincts of the general public must be
aroused, and we do not hesitate to express our

270 THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST TUBERCULOSIS

belief that your Royal Highness will, by the single
gracious act of calling together and presiding over
this meeting, save thousands of lives.

" The objects of the Association can be stated in
a few words. They are : i. To educate the public
as to the means of preventing the spread of con-
sumption from those already suffering from the
disease. 2. To extinguish tuberculosis in cattle. 3.
To promote the erection of sanatoria for the open-
air treatment of tuberculous disease.

"It is only necessary to indicate here the spirit
in which the operations of the Society will be con-
ducted. While making known the contagious char-
acter of consumption, it will endeavour to allay the
panic which arises in some minds when it is known
that consumption is catching. It does not advocate
the compulsory notification of consumption, but it
will urge on sanitary authorities the desirability of
insisting on the disinfection of rooms in which con-
sumptive people have died, when notification of the
fact is made through the certificate of death.

" Its method is instruction and persuasion, not
compulsion. In particular it will seek to enlist the
co-operation of the sufferers themselves.

"The idea which animates the Association is
that the prevention of consumption is a national
duty, in which the medical profession and the public
can co-operate, the medical profession leading and
guiding the movement."

Sir Grainger Stewart and Dr Andrew from
Edinburgh, Dr Moore (now Sir John) from Ireland,
Sir James Sawyer from Birmingham, and Professor
McFadyean, Principal of the Royal Veterinary
College, spoke in support of the work, and Lord
Salisbury proposed the resolution that : —

"This meeting desires to express its approval

FORMATION OF THE ASSOCIATION 271

of the effort which is being made by the National
Association for the Prevention of Consumption and
other forms of Tuberculosis to check the spread of
the diseases due to tubercle, and to promote the
recovery of those suffering from consumption and
tuberculous disease generally. It also commends
the method adopted by the Association, of instruct-
ing public opinion and stimulating public interest,
rather than the advocacy of measures of com-
pulsion."

This was seconded by Sir Samuel Wilks, the
President of the Royal College of Physicians, and
His Royal Highness then put the resolution, which
was carried unanimously.

The Association was formally registered under
the Board of Trade regulations in 1899, with the
Prince of Wales as President and the late Earl of
Derby as Chairman of Council.

The movement was enthusiastically taken up,
and, looking at the way in which to-day so many
of its objects have been realised and its methods
adopted, it may be thought that there was no room
for difference of opinion as to the wisdom of initiating
such an Association for the purpose of instructing
the general public in the methods by which the
spread of tuberculosis could best be prevented or
arrested.

It was not so, however, and perhaps the very
difficulties of the position — the opposition of those
who thought that a panic would be created by a
recognition of the possibility of infection ; the fear
of compulsory notification and restrictive legislation ;

272 THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST TUBERCULOSIS

the criticism of the Royal College of Physicians, of
which Sir Samuel Wilks was no longer President-
made Sir William Broadbent feel it necessary to
throw himself more heartily into the struggle, to
support with his name and authority action which
might be unpopular, and to sacrifice not only
time and money and strength, but what he felt
far more, the approval of some of his professional
brethren.

After his death one of them wrote of him : —
" There are differences of opinion as to whether
he did not allow his judgment to be outreached in
the crusade against consumption," and, though it
was added "but all crusaders are impulsive, and
the sincerity and enthusiasm of his purpose was
never questioned," there is no doubt that during
the early stages of the movement the feeling was
strong, and he was aware of it and counted the
cost.

As Sir Thomas Barlow said of him : —

" There was doubt in the minds of many as to
the wisdom of taking the public into complete
confidence, but Broadbent saw that it was imperative
to secure a wide and enlightened public sympathy,
and to his courage, perseverance, and self-sacrifice
the fresh start in dealing with this disease in
England is largely due. Though he valued the
good opinions of his brethren he did not ask himself
whether a given project would command universal
professional approval, but, having satisfied himself
that fundamentally it was sound and that it came
within practical politics, he threw in his lot with it
and did his best to make it a success."

BRITISH CONGRESS 273

Branches were formed in many parts of England,
and the next important piece of work undertaken
by the Association was the organisation of the
British Congress on Tuberculosis, which was to
be held early in 1901, the Prince of Wales having
graciously consented to preside and to open the
Congress in person.

Sir William Broadbent was chairman of the
meeting of delegates of branches which was
summoned to consider the question, and was sub-
sequently elected Chairman of the Organising
Council, of which the late Earl of Derby was
President.

The date of the Congress had originally been
fixed for April, but, owing to the death of Queen
Victoria, it was found necessary to postpone it till
July, and His Majesty the King, who was unable
himself to attend the inauguration, requested H.R.H.
the Duke of Cambridge to perform the ceremony in
his place.

The meetings were attended by medical men
from all parts of the world, and the Congress was
made memorable by an address from Prof. Koch,
in which he threw doubt on the intercom-
municability of human and bovine tuberculosis.
This gave rise to a discussion at the time, in
which Lord Lister, Prof. Nocard, Prof. Bang,
and Prof. Sims Woodhead took part, hesitating
to adopt his conclusions, and it also necessitated
prolonged investigations by a Royal Commis-
sion, the results of which prove that there

s

274 THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST TUBERCULOSIS

had been no sufficient foundation for Dr Koch's
statements.

During the week of the Congress, Sir William
Broadbent gave up almost his whole time to the
guests who were staying with him, including Prof.
Von Leyden and his wife, and to the duties of
hospitality. His actual work in connection with the
proceedings was confined to the preliminary
organising and superintendence, and to the moving
of certain resolutions, the most important of which
was one proposing the appointment of a permanent
International Committee, "to collect evidence and
report on the measures which have been adopted
for the prevention of tuberculosis in different
countries."

Neither at this congress, nor at the one which
was held in Paris in 1905, did he read any paper or
profess to add to the scientific investigation of
tuberculosis. His part was to obtain recognition
of the work which was being done by men in
England and all over the world ; to organise means
by which the public might be instructed and roused
to support the efforts of Medical Officers of Health
and Veterinary Inspectors interested in questions
of public health ; to co-ordinate the many and
various agencies which were available, and to
further such manifestoes as that on " the control of
consumption," which was presented to the Metro-
politan Asylums Board by the National Association
in 1906.

Two letters written to Dr Philip of Edinburgh

TUBERCULOSIS DISPENSARIES 275

illustrate his constant interest in the subject, and
the trouble which he took to collect information :—

\lth Oct. 1906.

" I have to open a discussion on the co-ordina-
tion of measures for the control of consumption on
the 26th, and I am anxious to do you justice with
regard to tuberculosis dispensaries.

" I should be glad to know your mature con-
clusions as to their value, and as to the organisation
and working of them arrived at by your long
experience.

" We have never thought it practicable to start
them in London, where there are so many dis-
pensaries, good, bad, and indifferent, and so
many Out- Patient Departments of general and
special hospitals. Possibly the O.P. departments
of the consumptive hospitals might take on the
functions of tuberculous dispensaries more efficiently
than is the case at present.

" At Toronto there is a hospital for advanced
and far advanced cases of consumption from a
purely preventive point of view. The state and
municipality provide 6 out of the 8 dollars which
each patient is supposed to cost weekly."

HALEFIELD, WENDOVER,
igthjany. '07.

" MY DEAR DR PHILIP,

" Between my request for informa-
tion about your work and your reply I was struck
down by influenza and pneumonia, which resulted in
inter-lobar empyema going down to the medi-
astinum.

"I am only just beginning to take up my
ordinary interests, and among the arrears your
letter and the enclosures came to my notice
yesterday. What has happened with regard to

276 THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST TUBERCULOSIS

the meeting at which I was to have given the
address on co-operation against tuberculosis I do
not know even now.

" I must confess that I had not fully realised
the importance of your work and, while I looked
upon you as the pioneer in preventive measures
against consumption, I did not know that your
efforts went back 20 years ; and I had not given
sufficient attention to your dispensary system.
With the number and variety of so-called dispen-
saries in London, I did not see how a tuberculous
dispensary could be introduced and worked, more
particularly as there were the Out- Patient Depart-
ments of the consumption hospitals. While
recognising the great superiority of dispensaries
organised on your plan, I am afraid it would be
very difficult to obtain either public or municipal
support for them. I shall, however, give attention
to the question if I regain sufficient strength.

" Another fact I had overlooked is, that in
connection with the Royal Victoria Hospital you
have 50 beds for advanced cases. I attach the
greatest importance to this as a preventive
measure."

CHAPTER XIX

A FULL LIFE

Organising Work. Appointments. Coronation of King Edward VII.
Grandchildren. Seventieth Birthday.

THE account given in the preceding pages will
show how much of his time was now occupied
with committee and other organising work, and, in
addition to the special interest which he took in
the crusade against tuberculosis, he helped to
initiate the Imperial Cancer Research Fund, of
which he was a Vice- President, and he was con-
sulted on many other questions relating to the
public health.

Sir William Broadbent had been appointed
Physician Extraordinary to Queen Victoria, and on
the death of Her Majesty, he was made Physician-
in-Ordinary to His Majesty the King and to
H.R.H. the Prince of Wales.

He was created a Knight Commander of the
Victorian Order in 1901, and he was Chairman of
the Advisory Committee appointed by His Majesty
to draw up the plans for the construction of the
King's Sanatorium at Midhurst, of which institution

277

278 HONORARY DEGREES

he was later on a consulting physician, as well as of
the King Edward VII. Hospital for Officers.

He was also an Honorary Member of many
distinguished foreign medical societies ; of the
"Verein fur Innere Medicin, Berlin," of the
" Gesellschaft fur Innere Medicin and Kinderheil-
kunde, Vienna," of the " Socie'te' M6dicale de
Geneve," and of the " Imperial Society of
Constantinople."

In 1904 the University of Leeds conferred on
him the degree of Doctor of Science, and in 1906
he received the honorary degree of LL.D. from the
Universities of Toronto and Montreal, on the
occasion of his visit to Canada to attend the
meeting of the British Medical Association at
Toronto.

Extracts may be given from a letter describing
the Coronation of King Edward VII. : —

To S.

August 1902.

" Our places were near the muniment room —
just at the angle between the choir and the south
transept — so that we could see the altar, King
Edward's throne, and the two thrones on which
the King and Queen sat most of the time, and the
chairs at which they knelt to receive the Sacrament,
everything, indeed, except the two chairs on which
they sat on first entering, when the King took the
oath. In the north transept were the peeresses, in
the south the peers ; in galleries thrown across the
transepts further back, the Members of the House
of Commons and their wives. All these were

CORONATION OF KING EDWARD VII. 279

within our view, and we watched them being
gradually filled up.

'The first indication of the approaching
ceremony, long before the arrival of the proces-
sions, was the singing of Ein Feste Burg 1st
Unser Gott, without organ, accompanied only by
trumpets. It was in the nave and reached us
exquisitely soft and beautiful.

"After a time came the fanfare of trumpets
announcing the arrival of the first of the proces-
sions. As each emerged from the nave into the
choir the Westminster boys, who were stowed
away in the triforium near the organ, burst out
into an Ave, ave, ave ! followed by a Latin verse,
and ending with a Vivat, vivat, vivat ! It was
sung, or rather shouted, in quick time, and
produced quite a startling effect.

"It was, I think, quite 11.15 before the King
and Queen arrived. She looked most beautiful
and stately as she moved to her chair ; the King
also bore himself with great dignity. They were
out of our sight when the Archbishop of
Canterbury asked the King the questions and
administered the oath, but we could hear
every word. After the coronation the King
and Queen took their seat on the thrones,
which were on a da'is farther back from the altar
than King Edward's chair, and here homage was
rendered. . . .

"When the Archbishop, who was the first to
do homage, tried to rise from his knees he could
not, and had to be helped by the King and two
bishops who were guiding him about. There was
no fainting, and during the rest of the service his
voice was as strong as ever. When the Prince of
Wales did homage immediately afterwards the
King put his right arm round his neck, kissed
him on both cheeks and shook him warmly by

280 GRANDCHILDREN

the hand. It was most touching and brought
tears into a good many eyes."

Early in 1903 Sir William's youngest daughter
was married, and in April he, with his wife and
eldest daughter attended the International Medical
Congress at Madrid. They subsequently extended
their trip, in company with Sir Thomas and Lady
Barlow, to Seville and Granada, calling at Cor-
dova and Biarritz on the way home.

Of his family only the eldest daughter remained
unmarried, and the grandchildren were a source of
intense pleasure to him. For three years, until
the death of his daughter Gertrude Lafone, his
birthday was celebrated by a gathering of all his
children, with a belated Christmas tree for the
grandchildren, and the few intimate letters which
he wrote refer to these occasions : —

ToS.

•z^th Jan. 1903.

" Your affection and good wishes are always
precious, and I thank you for your letter. We
had a wonderful time with all the children, and
all the eleven grandchildren. I had to be Father
Christmas with my scarlet Doctor's gown trimmed
with cotton-wool as a robe, and a mask with a
long beard. The children enjoyed themselves as
much, I think, as even children can. They get on
extremely well together, and really like each other.

" On my birthday I had three of them out in
the carriage with me, lone and two of John's : they
were a very noisy and disorderly party."

SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY 281

To S.

\%th October 1903.

" Once more I wish you many happy returns of
the day. Happiness does not consist in abundance
of wealth or multitude of pleasures, but in the
limitation and simplicity of needs and desires, and
in the consciousness of duty discharged and service
rendered to God and our fellow men.

"In this sense — the highest — you have enjoyed
happiness, and in this sense, I wish you happiness.

"The grandchildren all enjoyed their visit to
you, and I am glad that Longwood should have
pleasant associations in their childish recollections."

ToS.

2yd January 1904.

" I thank you sincerely for your good wishes on
my birthday. As I enter on my ;oth year I cannot
look for many more of them, but those which
remain may be happy.

" My life has been crowned with tender mercies
and loving kindness, and not the least of these is
that I am surrounded as my years advance by such
children and grandchildren. The grandchildren are
a wonderfully fine lot, all so good-looking and
intelligent."

CHAPTER XX

CLOSING YEARS

Visit of French Doctors to London and of English Doctors to Paris.
Commander of the Legion of Honour. Death of his Second
Daughter. Attends Meeting of the British Medical Associa-
tion at Toronto (1906). Letters from Canada. Illness.
Death. Letters from Sir C. Ilbert and Sir Clifford Allbutt.
Address to Students of St Mary's Hospital by Professor Osier.

SIR WILLIAM BROADBENT'S friendship with many
French medical men, and his knowledge of
the language made it natural that he should be
approached when in 1904 the visit of a party of
French doctors to London was proposed. He
became Chairman of the Organising Committee,
and during the three days of the visit, which took
place in October, he was indefatigable, from the
moment of meeting the guests at the station on
Sunday evening till the concluding banquet at
which he presided.

The visit was of real use, for the Englishman
does not always show to the best advantage when
out of his own country, and French professional
men have hesitated to cross the Channel unless
they were acquainted with the language. The
heartiness of the reception and the genuine warmth

282

FRENCH DOCTORS IN LONDON 283

of the welcome extended to them came, therefore,
as a surprise to the guests, as did also the excellence
of the hospitals supported by voluntary contribu-
tions, and the standard of the nursing.

The French excel in turning a graceful com-
pliment, but there was more than superficial polite-
ness in the farewell speeches, which were marked by
true feeling, and were the expression of mutual
appreciation which has led to lasting friendships.

Prof. Poirier, in responding for the Faculty of
Medicine of Paris, said : —

" Je puis cependant citer les choses qui nous ont
frappe"s particulierement, d'abord le caractere si
parfaitement pratique de vos institutions qui s'allient
a leur grandeur et a leurs buts Sieve's. Les r^sultats
grandioses de 1'initiatif individuel et collectif
excitent notre admiration, mais c'est surtout cette
entente passione"e qui vous caracte"rise, allide au
respect profond pour la religion et la tradition."

And Prof. Chauffard in speaking of the
hospitals said : —

"L' Anglais est essentiellement pratique; il
cherche et il trouve le moyen le plus simple
d'atteindre son but. Dans vos hopitaux nous avons
trouve partout cette inge"niosite" extreme, cette
immense attention au detail. L'Anglais porte
partout avec lui son admiration pour son home, et
les malades dans vos hopitaux paraissent jouer un
role familial. Vous les considerez non pas comme
des cas pathologiques mais comme des freres
malheureux, comme si vous aviez un devoir double
de les soigner et de les aimer en meme temps.
Quelles douces visions que vos salles, si propres, si
intimes, avec la beaut£ des fleurs et le sounre de vos

284 PROFESSOR HUCHARD

nurses; il doit etre agr£able d'etre traite et gue>i
dans un tel milieu. Nous avons trouv£ dans votre
administration hospitaliere la meme libert£ d'allures
que dans votre vie politique, dans la maniere dans
laquelle vous construisez vos hopitaux, que vous les
aggrandissez, et tout par 1'initiatif prive, par
souscriptions individuelles."

Prof. Huchard, in replying for the guests,
referred to Sir William Broadbent as Le mtdecin
partout aimt et partout respect^ and went on to
say : —

" Entre m£decins, cette amiti6 precede souvent
d:abord d'une certaine communaut£ de travaux,
comme le d£montre le fait suivant que vous me
permettrez de vous rappeler, mon cher Sir Broad-
bent, ne serait-ce que pour vous rendre la justice que
vous vous refusez trop g£n£reusement a vous-meme.
II y a quelques semaines, sans avoir encore 1'honneur
d'etre personnellement connu de vous, vous avez
bien voulu m'^crire spontane"ment que vous
partagiez mes ide"es sur le role considerable de
1'hypertension arte"rielle dans la production de
nombreuses maladies. Votre grande modestie,
unie a trop de bienveillance, vous a fait commettre
une erreur ; c'est nous qui partageons vos ide~es, et
il y a plus de vingt ann^es, alors que nous com-
mencions nos recherches a ce sujet, vous nous
aviez deja r6vd6 quelques uns des dangers de cette
hypertension. Et c'est ainsi que, comme M.
Jourdain faisait autrefois de la prose sans le savoir,
nous avons fait ensemble de la bonne et scientifique
diplomatic sans nous en douter, puisque 1'entente
cardiaque entre nous a de longtemps pr^cddd
1'entente cordiale."

The French doctors insisted upon a return visit,
which was arranged to take place in May 1905, and

ENGLISH DOCTORS IN PARIS 285

proved to be a much more highly organised enter-
tainment than the English one ; for, while in London
the only formal reception had been that at the
Royal College of Surgeons, and, excepting for a
telegram from the King, there had been no public
recognition of the visit, in France the official
welcomes began at Calais, and in Paris itself the
heads of the Municipality, of the "Assistance
Publique," and of the University of Paris vied with
the Faculty of Medicine and private hospitality to
make the occasion a memorable one.

Receptions were held at the University of Paris,
at the Faculty of Medicine, at the Hotel de Ville,
and in the offices of the "Assistance Publique,"
and on every occasion there were speeches of
introduction and welcome, involving always a
response from Sir William Broadbent, amongst
others, often without preparation or notes, as the
English guests were quite unprepared for the import-
ance which was attached to their visit, or for the
ceremony which attended it.

A pilgrimage was made to the Pasteur Institute,
where a wreath was placed on the tomb of Pasteur,
and Dr Kingston Fowler referred, as M. Liard had
previously done at the Sorbonne, to the fact that
the importance of his work had been recognised
in England earlier than in France, and to the
friendship which existed between him and Lord
Lister.

An invitation, which was without precedent, was
given by the Institute of France to visit the

286 COMMANDER OF THE LEGION OF HONOUR

beautiful chateau at Chantilly, left to the Institute
by the late Due D'Aumale, special trains and
carriages being provided, and on the same evening
a wonderful entertainment was organised at the
private theatre of the Automobile Club, where
excellent performers from the " Comedie Frangaise,"
the Grand Opera and the "Ope"ra Comique" lent
their aid, and verses composed for the occasion by
M. Jean Robiquet were recited. The final surprise
was a cinematograph picture of the visitors and
their hosts as they had appeared at Chantilly in the
afternoon.

At the closing banquet over 400 guests were
present, and Prof. Bouchard, who presided, after
reading a telegram from M. Loubet, announced that
he had been instructed by the President of the
Republic to confer on Sir William Broadbent the
Cross and Insignia of Commander of the Legion of
Honour. He then invested Sir William with the
Red Ribbon and Cross, and amid loud applause
embraced the new knight of this, the greatest of
French orders. According to the description of
the scene in the Medical Journals of that date : —

" The band struck up the British National
Anthem, the British physicians and surgeons
gave vent to their feelings by singing, or rather
shouting, at the top of their voices the well-known
chorus of " For he's a jolly good fellow," and Prof.
Bouchard seized the opportunity to invite all
present to drink to the health of President Loubet
and that of His Majesty King Edward, which was
done with a fresh outburst of enthusiasm."

DEATH OF A DAUGHTER 287

On the ist of August 1905, just when Sir
William was preparing to start for his usual
holiday in Switzerland, he had to face the shock of
his daughter Gertrude Lafone's death, which took
place at Carlisle, from internal hemorrhage after
only a few hours warning. The telegram asking
him to come at once was the first notice that
anything was wrong, and before there was a train
which he could catch the telephone message came
that all was over : —

To S.

SfA August 1905.

" I am only just beginning to be able to write
letters. I managed to write a few lines to Arthur,
but all the energy has been crushed out of me by
Gertie's death. I have no wish to do anything,
and no strength for it if I did. I am physically
weak as well as mentally and morally prostrate, and,
for the first time, feel the weight of my 70 years.

" When loss comes in the course of nature it is
hard enough to bear, but the death of a beloved
child, prematurely, as it seems to us in our short-
sightedness, so young, so good, so useful, so
necessary — the blow is terrible. At present only
one aspect of Gertie's death presents itself to my
mind, that of loss and sadness, and I cannot rise
above it. I ought, however, to be thankful to have
had such a child who exercised such an influence
for good and for happiness, and so I am.

"'We bless Thy Holy Name for all Thy
servants departed this life in Thy faith and fear."1

288 VISIT TO CANADA

84 BROOK STREET,
\othjany. 1906.

" Death is the one certainty of life, and as years
advance, the prayer ' So teach us to number our
days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom '
becomes more applicable.

" We have six grandchildren in the house, five
from Carlisle. They are a great joy, but there
is an abiding element of sadness in the thought
that their mother has not the pleasure of seeing
them grow up, and that they have not her loving

care."

In the autumn of 1905 he attended the Inter-
national Congress on Tuberculosis, which was held
in Paris, and visited many of the French hospitals
and sanatoria.

His visit to Canada for the meeting of the
British Medical Association in Toronto in 1906
was, perhaps, one of the incidents in his life most
full of enjoyment and interest. Warm invitations
and the kindest offers of hospitality had reached
him before he left London, but the heartiness of
the welcome extended to him exceeded anything
that he could have expected, and from the beginning
to the end of the six weeks which he spent in
Canada he felt the most intense pleasure in the
young fresh energy of the people, and in the
wonderful resources and beauty of the country.

The whole atmosphere was congenial to him,
and it seemed as if, in the freer and less conven-
tional life of the newer world, he renewed his youth,
and as if his nature responded to the affection and

VISIT TO CANADA m

to the appreciation of his work which were
manifested on every side.

Through the generosity of some of the directors
of the Canadian Pacific Railway Company, a car
was placed at the disposal of himself and Sir
Ihomas Barlow and their families, and they were
thus able to travel in comfort across the whole of
the continent to Victoria, a journey which he could
not otherwise have attempted.

In Montreal, Sir William, with his wife and
daughter, stayed with Prof. Adami, one of his
old students and friends who had been largely
instrumental in persuading him to go to Canada,
and in Toronto they were the guests of Senator
and Mrs Osier, who did all in their power to make
the visit a happy one.

ToS.

GLACIER HOUSE,
6th September 1906.

" Canada has surpassed all my imaginations ;
the distances, the vast extent of the corn-growing
prairie, no hills to speak of, but one limitless plain,
no trees and yet abundance of water. Then come
the mountains ; first the Rockies, afterwards the
Selkirks, where we now are, the hills higher, the
snow-fields and glaciers larger. A glacier comes
down into this valley about an hour's walk through
pine woods from the hotel. Fortunately we went
to see it yesterday morning, and just stood on the
ice before the rain set in. On the path, or trail, as
it is called, we found raspberries and huckleberries,
a sort of glorified bilberry, growing on much taller
and more straggling bushes under the trees. We

T

290 CLOSING YEARS

have mostly slept in the car, where we have a
bright intelligent negro to make up and take down
the beds and look after us generally.

"We had two days at Banff, two at Lake
Louise, Laggan. The scenery was magnificent,
and the weather perfect till we got here, where there
is more to see and do than at the other places.
We have met some very interesting men in Canada,
and have learnt a great deal. The fusion of the
French and English races of which we hear so
much is merely nominal : they stand absolutely
apart in feeling and interest as well as in language,
and the French are ruled by the priests.

"The Roman Catholic Church is extremely
rich in Lower Canada as far west as Montreal, and
owns an enormous area of land. The loyalty to
the Mother Country appears to be general and
sincere, but the thinking men are uneasy, more
particularly with regard to British Columbia, which
is very accessible from the States, but cut off
from Canada by the tremendous mountain ranges.
There is no knowing what may be done by un-
scrupulous and clever men through financial or
industrial wars or by tariff trickeries."

CHATEAU FRONTENAC, QUEBEC,
igtk Sept. 1906.

" Our wonderful visit to Canada is coming to
an end. We arrived here this evening, to be ready
to sail in the Empress of Britain, which brought us.

" I hoped to find letters, but we have been
completely cut off from England by our rapid
journey west, and by the impossibility of giving any
address. This is the one drawback to such a visit
as ours has been, and I cannot help feeling nervous.
You must have heard from May before we left
Toronto, of our visit to Niagara. I am glad to
have seen the Falls before I die. It was after this

VISIT TO CANADA 291

that our real travelling began. The Canadian
Pacific Railway placed a car at our disposal, which
was taken off one train and put on to another as
we wished.

"In going out we shared it with Sir Thomas and
Lady Barlow and their son and daughter, and Dr
and Mrs Rose Bradford, we having the drawing-
room end, which was complete in itself. On the
return journey we had it to ourselves, and were able
to give comfortable places to Prof, and Mrs Sims
Woodhead. But for this car I could not have
stood the continuous day and night travelling.

"At first, after leaving Toronto, the land was
under cultivation, but in many places the stumps of
trees were seen in the fields. Then came primeval
forest, glacier-worn rocks, close-set trees, and a con-
tinuous succession of lakes, big and little. After
travelling through this for half a day or more, we
went to bed, and in the morning it was still lakes,
trees, and rocks. Here and there the woods were
represented by poles for miles, where there had been
great fires, accidental or intentional. The trees
were of various kinds, tall but not large, very close
together, with much undergrowth, so as to make an
impassable thicket.

"After a time we skirted the north shore of
Lake Superior, which was very beautiful. England
might be set down in it without touching the shore.
Then from Winnipeg came the prairie, an undulat-
ing, treeless, corn-growing plain, extending for
hundreds of miles in every direction, which could
feed the entire Empire. Most of the corn was cut,
but here and there some was left, and the reaping
machines were at work. They do not carry it, but
thresh it on the spot, and, I think, burn the straw.
We spent part of a day at Winnipeg, and were
taken round the town in motors, and entertained at
luncheon by the local doctors.

292 CLOSING YEARS

" The prairie was succeeded by the Rockies :
our first stay was at Banff, for two days. Here I
had my first walk, climbing the Sulphur Mountain
by an easy path to the observatory — about 3000
feet. Our next stopping-place was Laggan, where
Eliza did two good excursions to the Mirror
Lake, and to a sort of col or saddle from which
there was a splendid view. The waiters at
Laggan were Chinese boys, who were very quick
and efficient.

"There was a block in the line behind us from
a collision between two luggage trains, which delayed
us considerably ; one train was cancelled altogether ;
others were eight to fourteen hours late. Glacier,
where we next spent a couple of days, is in the
Selkirks, where a glacier comes down into the
valley from a snow-field said to be 200 miles in
extent. We had a walk to it. Then the rain came
on, preventing all further excursions, and flooding
the river so as nearly to stop the electric-light
turbines. I was sure this was dangerous for the
railway, and the next train, on which we ought to
have proceeded, was thrown off the line by a stream
which had burst its bounds : the enormous engine
demolished a snow shelter of strong timber, and
nearly went over the edge of a ravine. The
passengers were held up for nearly twelve hours,
almost without food. We ought to have left about
2.45 P.M., but went to bed in our car about 9
o'clock, and were picked up about 4 A.M. by the next
train.

" We reached Vancouver on Friday, went to
church on Sunday morning, and then on to Van-
couver Island and Victoria, a crossing of four or five
hours in the afternoon.

" There were a great many islands, and it was a
lovely day. The trip was most beautiful. The
next day we lunched with the Lieut. -Governor and

ILLNESS 293

Mrs Dunsmuir. The house is most beautifully
situated, and we had a pleasant time.

" At Vancouver, on the mainland, we drove round
the park, and saw some of the few really big trees
which still remain. In the hollow of one a dogcart
with three people in it was actually standing to be
photographed. Another, still living, is 56 feet in
circumference. At Victoria again, on Vancouver
Island, we had some delightful excursions. Pro-
fessor Sims Woodhead and I were entertained at
dinner there.

" On the return journey we came by the Arrow-
head Lakes and Crow's Nest Pass, and called at
Ottawa. We are now seeing Quebec, and I must
leave details for another time."

He was in excellent health and spirits on his
return to London at the end of September, and
started work with his usual vigour, but early in
October he got cold and probably an attack of
influenza, of which he took as usual little notice,
and although he seemed to be recovering from it,
he must have been more ill than he would acknow-
ledge. He was seized with pleurisy, followed by
pneumonia and heart failure, and, instead of any
crisis bringing the disease to a conclusion, weeks of
severe illness ensued, until an empyema was dis-
covered and opened. After that his improvement
was steady, and he was able at the beginning of
January to go down to his small country-house at
Wendover, where it seemed for a time as if his
health would be entirely restored. A relapse, or a
second attack of influenza, supervened on a move to
Brighton, and from that time onwards there was

294 CLOSING YEARS

gradually increasing weakness and emaciation, with-
out any definite cause which could be found to
account for them. He returned to Wendover,
where he could spend much of his time in the
garden, and in spite of cold ungenial weather
he had a drive almost every day, watching with
pleasure, for the first time since he was a boy, the
daily changes of an English spring and summer
in the country.

All through his illness reading had been his
great resource, and during these last months he
seemed to live more in the world of books than in
the weary details of daily life. He continued to
take an interest in current events and in medical
news and progress, and he enjoyed many new
books ; but, for the most part, he turned to the old
favourites, and went almost completely through the
works of many authors with whom he had become
familiar in earlier days.

Thackeray, George Eliot, Mrs Gaskell, and
Oliver Wendell Holmes were among the writers to
whom he turned for distraction.

At the end of June, as he was making no
progress, it was decided to try a change to the sea-
side, and he went to Broadstairs, where for a few
days there seemed to be some improvement, and he
even began to look forward to the possibility of
going to Switzerland to see once more the mountains
which he loved.

Sudden and acute illness, however, came on,
and he was moved back to his house in Brook

DEATH 295

Street only two days before his death, which
took place on the loth of July 1907, from malignant
endocarditis.

Sir Thomas Barlow and Mr Edmund Owen
showed him the most devoted attention throughout
all his illness, and he also greatly appreciated the
visits of Professor Osier, who came from Oxford on
several occasions to see him. His two sons were,
of course, in constant attendance on him.

He was buried at Wendover, where he had spent
so many of the last months of his life, and the first
part of the service was held at the church of St
Peter's, Vere Street, where he had been a regular
attendant for some fifteen years. It was con-
ducted by Canon Page Roberts, whose ministra-
tions he had always valued very highly, assisted
by the Rev. H. P. M. Lafone, Sir William's son-
in-law.

In the crowded congregation which filled the
church were, perhaps, many whose thoughts would
find expression in the words of Sir Courtenay
Ilbert, who wrote: —

July 1907.

" I could not help feeling, as I looked round
at those who attended in Vere Street, how great
and complete a life his had been ; at how many
points and in what various ways he had touchec
and influenced the lives of others ; how many
households, rich and poor, had been for years and
years in the habit of looking to him for counsel
Ld aid; how the whole of his exceptional
energies and abilities had been devoted, un-

296 SIR CLIFFORD ALLBUTT

selfishly and unstintingly, to the advancement of
science and the diminution of human suffering."

Sir Clifford Allbutt, one of his oldest friends,
said of him : —

July 1907.

" To Sir William Broadbent's scientific merits
and achievements, no private testimony is needed,
but I cannot forbear some witness to the richness
and variety of his professional mastery, and to his
clinical and pathological knowledge and experience.

"It so happened that to certain fields of
medicine he and I had been attracted alike, and
on these subjects we often spoke together ; on
every such occasion, I will not say that I was
surprised, but that I admired the wealth of illustra-
tion and interpretation which he would reveal, the
wisdom and sagacity with which he used it, and
his generous dispensing of it to his colleagues
and fellow- workers. It must always be a matter
of regret that the exigencies of an enormous
practice deprived us of much of the scientific
record of one of the ablest clinical observers of
modern times.

"Admirable as this was, I am not sure but
that his magnanimous and yet unpretentious
independence of spirit and lofty sense of personal
honour was still more admirable. If he saw that
a certain course of action was right, he could
not conceive himself as pursuing any other
course, whatever murmurs occasionally might come
from interested — or, more often — merely prejudiced
observers.

" His was the sturdy, righteous temper which
has been the making of England, and which we
northern men are proud to think has been largely,
though by no means only, ours."

PROFESSOR OSLER 297

Professor Osier, in speaking to the students of
St Mary's Hospital, when giving the Introductory
Address, in October 1907, said :

" Sir William Broadbent's career illustrates all
that is best in a successful physician. For years
he lived the self-denying life of the true student,
and perhaps the most encouraging among the
many lessons of his example is the circumstance
that such distinguished success was won by a
man who came to London without friends and
with all his capital in Minerva's Tower. A
special feature of all his work was thoroughness.
His studies on the Nervous System were among
the best of those memorable contributions made
in the seventies by that remarkable group of
London men who have stood for everything that
is best in British Neurology.

" Next, perhaps, to his capacity for thorough-
ness, we may attribute his success to a strong
belief in his profession. Broadbent knew the
great work which we have done, and can do, for
humanity, and he spent his time willingly and
lavishly in promoting its welfare. And he had a very
special reward — in many ways the most satisfactory
reward a man gets in life — the affection and regard
of an extraordinarily wide circle of his brethren.

" You knew him here as a staunch colleague, a
devoted teacher, and an enthusiastic supporter of
this School and Hospital. Such men leave a
deeper and wider impress than we realise. To
the generation which followed him, and who knew
his work and worth, he was a bright example, and
you cannot do better than to take him as a guide
on the way. You may not reach so high in the
mountains as he did, but your lives may be as
satisfactory and as perfect, if lived, as was his, in
the service of the profession and of his fellow-men."

T2

INDEX

ABERCORN, Duke of, 247, 249, 267
Acland, Dr, 112
Acland, Mr, 259
Adami, Professor, 289
Aitchison, Mr, 190
Aix-les- Bains, 225
Alderson, Dr, 46, 50, 56
Alexandra, H.M. Queen, 235, 237,

261, 264, 278

Allbutt, Sir Clifford, 119, 296
Almondbury, 8
Alsace, 126, 161
Amanvillers, 148, 149, 154
America, civil war in, 69
Andrew, Dr, 270
Apothecaries' Hall, 15,26
Apprenticeship, 13
Archbishop of Canterbury, 258,

262, 279
Ardennes, 158
Argenteuil, 146
Armand-Delille. See Delille
Arrowhead Lakes, 293
Ars-sur-Moselle, 155
Asnieres, 146

Assistance Publique, 285

B

BALE, 103
Balmat, 105
Banff, 290, 292
we

Bang, Prof., 273

Barlow, Sir Thomas, 272, 280, 289,

291, 295
Baron, Dr, 95
Bastian, Dr, 119
Bazeilles, 158
Beaconsfield, Lord, 180, 188, 209,

215

Bel Alp, 245
Belfast, 265
Bellevue, 144, 145
Benson, Mrs, 225
Bettws-y-Coed, 266
Bigelow, 211
Billings, 211
Bingen, 160, 170
Blachford, Lord, 213
Bouchard, Professor, 286
Brachet, Dr, 225
Bradford, Dr Rose, 291
Brain, work on the, 91, 114,

117

Breadalbane, Lord, 250
Brie, 142

British Columbia, 290
British Medical Association Meet-
ings, Chester, 93; Leeds, 119;

Liverpool, 217; Oxford, 112;

Toronto, 278, 288
British Medical Benevolent Fund,

95, 96, 181
Broadbent, Arnold, 245, 255

Arthur, 22, 64, 169, 170, 182,
251

Benjamin, 22, 69, 85, 182

300

INDEX

Broadbent, Butter worth, 13, 16, 22,
24, 38, 65, 66, 69, 73, 76, 79,
164, 1 66, 1 68, 182
Dora, 173, 183
Eliza (Leila), 22, 66, 198
Gertrude, 176, 245, 256, 280, 287
lone, 280
John, father, i, 6-n, 64, 74, 182-

184, 191-198

John, grandfather, i, 5, 9
John Edward, 22, 85, 109, 182
John F. H., son, 90, 100, 120,

175, 215, 251, 256
Julia, 71, 73, 182
Madeleine, 39, 176, 280
Mary Jane, 17, 22, 62, 68, 79, 80,

81,90
May, 80, 89, loo, 120, 175, 215,

253, 258, 280
Sarah, 12, 21, 22, 66, 102, 170,

198

Walter, 176, 177, 223, 244, 264
William, son, 100

Broadbent, Lady, 73, 76, 77, 90,
223, 224, 242, 247, 25 1>, 292

Broadbent, William Henry, birth,
i, 8; childhood and boyhood,
9-12 ; apprenticeship, 13 ; Man-
chester, 13-27 ; in Paris, 27-40 ;
posts at St Mary's Hospital, 42-
59 ; 23 Upper Seymour Street,
60 ; marriage, 79 ; appointed
Physician to St Mary's Hospital,
88 ; scientific work, 91, 113-118 ;
interest in Franco-Prussian War,
125 ; visits to battlefields, 137-
162 ; 34 Seymour Street, 163-
239 ; 84 Brook Street, 239 ;
baronetcy, 244 ; socal life, 252 ;
closing years and death, 282-
295 ; Broadbent's Hypothesis, 91

Brompton Hospital for Consump-
tion, 62

Broughton, Higher, 18, 20, 21

Brown, Mr Baker, 44

Browne, Dr, 16, 25

Browne, Sir James Crichton, 181
Bull-baiting, 6
Buller, Sir Redvers, 254
Butterworth, Benjamin, 8

CAMBRIDGE, 223

Cambridge, H.R.H. the Duke of,

262, 273

Campodunum, 4
Canada, 288-293
Canadian Pacific Railway, 289,

291

Cancer, work on, 93, 94, 95
Cancer Research Fund, 277
Cannes, 205, 244
Carlisle, 287, 288
Carnarvon, Lord, 188
Chamberlain, Mr, 215, 263, 267
Chambers, Dr King, 46, 56, 87,

i'3

Chamounix, 105

Champigny, 139, 140, 141

Chantilly, 286

Charcot, Professor, 185, 210, 211

Charles, Dr, 266

Chatel-St-Germain, 151, 155

Chauffard, Professor, 283

Cheadle, Dr, 213

"Chemical Properties and Thera-
peutical Action," 114

Chepstow, 1 60

Christchurch, Dean of, 246, 248

Clandeboye, 265

Clarence, H.R.H. the Duke of,
235, 241

Clarke, Lockhart, 119

Clinical Society, 206

College of Physicians, Royal,
26, 57, 60, 260, 271, 272;
censor, 260; examiner, 218;
fellow, 118 ; licentiate, 26 ; mem-
ber, 57, 60 ; Member of the
Council, 219, 220

INDEX

301

College of Surgeons, Royal, 211,

285

Cologne, 1 60, 170
Commune, the, 135, 138, 144,

146
Congress, British, on Tuberculosis,

273
Congress, International Medical,

Havre, 185 ; Geneva, 184, 185,

1 86 ; London, 210 ; Madrid,

280
Congress, Paris, on Tuberculosis,

274, 288
Connaught, H.R.H. the Duke of,

261
" Constriction of the Mitral Valve,"

181

Consumption, National Associa-
tion for Prevention of, 268-274
Cooper, Fenimore, 23
Cornilly, 140
Coulson, Mr, 61
Coulson, Mr Walter, 59, 83, 102,

103

Cream, Neil, 242
Croonian Lectures, 202
Crow's Nest Pass, 293
Crystal Palace, 211

Devonshire, Duchess of, 258

Devonshire, Duke of, 267

Dispensaries, Tuberculosis, 275,
276

Disraeli, Benjamin. See Beacons-
field

Domesday Book, 2

Drugs, action of, 113, 114, 117

Dublin, 264

Dufferin, Lady, 258, 265

Dufferin, The Marquis of, 248, 249,
257, 265

Dukes, Dr, 210

Dumville, Mr Arthur, 25

Dunsmuir, Lieut-Governor, 293

1-Lcole de M/decine, 32

Edge, the, Longwood, 3, 5, 245

Edward VII., H.M. King, 235, 237,

241, 249, 254, 259, 267, 269, 273,

277, 278, 279, 285
Eggishorn, 245, 250
Ethics of the Dust, 96, 97
Eugenie, the Empress, 30, 35,

128

D

DALKEY Bay, 264

Dalmeny, 226

Dalton, Canon, 261

Delille, M. Armand-, 31, 32, 138,

146
Delille, Mme Armand-, 31,39, 103,

125, 127, 136, 224 ; letters from,

40, 127-135
Delille, Ernst Armand-, 131, 133,

138
Delille, Madeleine Armand-, 125,

134, 136

Derby, Earl of, 188, 271, 273
Desmarres, 27, 38

FABRE, M., 32, 36

Felce, Dr, 88

Fever Hospital, 68, 88, 118, 176,

181, 202
Field, Miss, 245
Fife, H.R.H. the Duchess of, 236,

248

Florence, 265
Forbach, 149, 158
Fowler, Dr Kingston, 285
Franco-Prussian War, 125-161
Fransecky, General, 153
Frogs, experiments on, 114, "7
Fulneck, 7

302

INDEX

GAIRDNER, Professor, 119

Garibaldi, 80

Gaskell, Mrs, 294

Geneva Congress, 184, 185, 186

George Eliot, 112, 113, 294

Gesellschaft fur Innere Medicin,

Vienna, 278

Girardin, M. St Marc, 35
Gladstone, W. E., 98, 215, 219,

227, 228, 248

Gladstone, Mrs, 227, 228, 250
Gomersal, 8
Granada, 280
Gravelotte, 143, 147, 151, 152, 155,

161

Greenwich, 174
Grimsel, 250
Grindelwald, 250
Gull, Sir William, 182, 211
Gulstonian Lectures, 116, 118

H

HALIFAX, 2

Halla, 211

Halton, 221, 244

Harcourt, Sir William, 263

Harpin, 73, 76

Harveian Society, 181 ; Lectures,

202, 217

Haughton, Professor, 112
Havre, 180, 185
Heart, work on the, 181, 202, 217,

240

Heath, Mr A. C, 25
Heidelberg, 160, 170
Herkomer, Sir Hubert, 235, 257
Hoare, Mr Hamilton, 171
Hocart, Mr, 30
Holland, Canon F. J., 61
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 107, 294
. Holmfirth, 8, 73, 79
Hospital Saturday Fund, 171

Huchard, Professor, 284
Huddersfield, I, 2, 26, 38, 165 ;

College, 12
Hyde Park Riots, 95, 98

I

ILBERT, Sir Courtenay, 295
Imperial Society of Constantinople,

278

"Ingravescent apoplexy," 181
Institute of France, 285
International Committee, 274
Invalid Children's Aid Association,

258

Ireland, 265
Issy, Fort, 131, 145
Italy, 266

J

JACKSON, Dr Hughlings, 91, 92

Jackson, Miss, 42, 68

Japan, offer of post as Vice-Consul
at, 58

Jenner, Sir William, 68

Journal of Anatomy and Physi-
ology, 113

K

KEPPEL, Admiral, 263

Kew Gardens, 174

King Edward VII. Hospital, 278

King's Sanatorium, 277

Koch, Professor, 273

La Charitt Hospital, 32
La Faisanderie, 140
Lafone, Rev. H. P. M., 245, 256,
295

INDEX

303

Laggan, 290, 292

Leeds, 119, 278

Legion of Honour, 286

Leighton, Lord, 249, 257

Letter-writing, 23

Lettsomian Professor, 166

Lewes, George Henry, 112

Liard, Professor, 285

Lindley, i, 8

Lister, Lord, 190, 273, 285

Llanfairfechan, 119

Lock wood, Sir Frank, 257

Long wood, I, 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 63, 79,

158, 164, 182, 198, 245, 251,

281

Longwood Edge, 1,2, 5, 198, 224
Lorraine, 126, 161
Loubet, President, 286
Luddite disturbances, 5
Lund, Mr, 25
Luxembourg, 147, 148 ; gardens of

the, 33, 129
Lytton, Lord, 189

M

MACMAHON, 127, 128, 157

McFadyean, Professor, 270

Madrid, 280

Magdalen College, 112

Maidenhead, 82, 83

Malmaison, 154

Manchester, 13, 1 8, 21, 26

Manchester Infirmary, 26, 27

Manchester Royal School of Medi-
cine, 15, 25, 26,218

Mannheim, 160

Marlborough House, 248, 269

Marne, the, 139, 140

Maudsley, Dr, 118

Mayence, 160

"Mechanism of Speech and
Thought," 218

Medical Society, 92, 166, 201, 205,
206, 207, 210, 211

Medico - Chirurgical Society, 218,

220

Meiringen, 250
Melbourne University, 72
Metz, 148, 149, 153, 156, 157, 161
Meudon, 144, 145
Meuse, 156, 158
Michael Angelo, 208
Midhurst, 277

Millais, Sir John E., 249, 257
Mirror Lake, 292
Monroe, 264, 265
Montreal, 278, 289
Moore, Mr, 94
Moore, Sir John, 270
Morley, Mr Arnold, 247
Morris, Sir Malcolm, 268
Moselle, 149, 155
Murchison, Dr, 56, 113

N

NAPLES, 265

Napoleon III., 28, 35, 36, 37, 157,
158 ; attempted assassination of,

3°»35

"Nervous System, theory of con-
struction of," 181

Nervous System, work on the, 92,
116, 179, 181, 1 86, 297

Newnham, Mr, 95

Niagara, 290

Nilsson, Christine, 226

Nocard, Professor, 273

Norfolk, Duke of, 263

Northcote, Sir Stafford, 215

OBSTETRICAL Society, 52, 54, 91

Orsini, 30, 37

Osborne, 236

Osier, Professor, 295, 297

Osier, Senator, 289

304

INDEX

Ottawa, 293

Owen, Mr Edmund, 206, 295
Owen's College, 15, 218, 240
Oxford, 112

PAGE ROBERTS, Canon, 295
Paget, Sir James, 95, 190, 246, 247,

248, 254

Palmerston, Lord, 36
Paris, 26, 27, 30-40, 79, 102, 125-

135. 136, 138, 224, 285, 288;

University of, 285
Parratt, Sir Walter, 263
Pasteur Institute, 285
Pathological Society Transactions,

91,93

Philip, Dr, 274, 275
Fieri, 37
Piorry, 27, 38
Plappeville, 148, 149
Plymyard, 224, 266
Point du Jour, 144
Poirier, Professor, 283
Pope, the, 208
Posilippo, 265
Power, Mr, 94, 117
"Prognosis in Heart Disease,"

202, 217

Prussia, the King of, 157
Pulse, the, 202, 218, 223, 229

Reay, Lord, 257

Reform Bill, 98

Reid, Sir James, 236, 247

Rendel, Mr George, 265

Reverdin, Professor, 210

Rezonville, 155

Rhine, the, 103, 122, 160, 170

Richmond, 174

Ricord, 27

Rieder Furka, 245

Ritualism, no

Riviera, the, 205, 265

Roberts, Dr, 32

Robiquet, M. Jean, 286

Rockies, the, 289, 292

Rome, 208, 265, 266

Rosebery, Lord, 227, 247, 249, 257,
258, 263

Rosenlaui, 250

Rothschild, Mr Alfred de, 222, 244

Rouen, 102, 136, 137

Royal Commission on Fever
Hospitals, 201, 212 ; on Tuber-
culosis, 273

Royal Society, 117, 119, 260; Pro-
ceedings of, 113

Royal Victoria Hospital, Edin-
burgh, 276

Rozerieulles, 152, 154

Ruskin, John, 96, 199

Russell, Lord John, 98

QUEBEC, 293
Quebec Chapel, 61

R

RAPPORTEUR to International

Congress, 184
Rayer, Professor, 27, 32
Reading, advice on, 22

SAARBRUCK, 158, 159, 161

Salisbury, Lady, 265

Salisbury, Lord, 188, 265, 267, 270

Salpgtriere, 185, 186

Sandringham, 235, 241, 254

Sawyer, Sir James, 270

Schaffhausen, 170

Scheideck, 250

Schiff, 187

Schwann, 12

Schynige-Platte, 224

INDEX

305

Searle, Mrs, 199

Sedan, 143, 147, 156, 158, 161

Sefton, Lady, 225, 226

Seine, the, 144, 185

Selkirks, the, 289, 292

Severn, Mrs, 199

Sibson, Dr, 47, 48, 56, 113, 114

Slack, 4

Smith, Dr Edward, 88

Smith, Mr Spencer, 56

Smith, Dr Tyler, 44, 52

Smith, Mr William, 25

Societe Medicale de Geneve, 278

Somers, Lady, 225, 226

Sorbonne, 35, 285

Southam, Mr G., 25

Spain, 280

Spendlove, Mandham, 169

Spicheren, 159

St Andrews, Hon. LL.D. of, 261

St Cloud, 144, 145, 146

St Hubert, 152, 153

St Mary's Hospital, 39, 43, 81, 86,
106, 202, 206, 228, 241, 297 ;
apothecary, 55 ; children's de-
partment, 53 ; curator, 59 ; lec-
turer, 165 ; obstetric officer, 43,
52 ; physician, 88, 165 ; registrar,
56 ; resident medical officer, 54,
58 ; reminiscence of, 228 ; re-
tirement from, 260 ; staff, 45

St Peter's, Vere Street, 295

St Privat, 148, 149, 151, 156

Stewart, Sir Grainger, 270

"Stoops," 5,157, 158

Strasburg, 127, 160, 161

Sulphur Mountain, 292

Switzerland, 79, 83, 102-105, 170,
223, 224, 240, 244, 287, 294

"Theory of Construction of the

Nervous System," 181
Thun, 224
Tintern, 123

Toronto, 275, 278, 288, 289, 291
Toynbee, Mr, 95
Trousseau, Prof., 27, 32
Tuberculosis, campaign against,

268-276

Tuileries, the, 34, 103, 138
Turkish Question, 187
Turner, Mr, 25
Tweedmoutb, Lord, 259, 260

U

UNION Chr&ienne, 37
University of London, M.B., 26,

42 ; M.D., 62 ; examiner, 218 ;

matriculation, 13, 14

VANCOUVER, 292, 293

Verneuil, 211

Verne" ville, 154

Victoria, 289, 292, 293

Victoria, H.M. Queen, 235, 236,

237, 248, 261
Victoria, Sister, 241
Victoria University, 218
Villiers, 140, 142, 143
Vion ville, 155
Virchow, 211
Volkman, 211
Von Leyden, Professor, 274

TANNER'S Practice of Medicine,

164, 165, 172, 180
Thackeray, W. M., 294

W

WAKEFIELD, 181

Wales, H.R.H. the Prince of, 234,
235, 241, 244, 249, 267

306

INDEX

Wales, H.R.H. Princess Maud of Woodhead, Professor Sims, 273,

(Queen of Norway), 241, 261 291, 293

Wales, H.R.H. Princess Victoria Wye, the, 122, 160

of, 235, 262

Wendover, 293, 294, 295

Wesley, John, 3, 6 Y

Western General Dispensary, 78,

88 YUNG, Mrs, 185

Whitehead, Dr J., 25
Wilks, Sir Samuel, 271, 272

Winnipeg, 291 Z

Women, Medical School for,

171 ZUG, 104, 170

Wood, Sir Evelyn, 254, 255 Zurich, 104

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