CHAPTER XIII.

_BAILLIE, HALFORD, CHAMBERS, AND HOLLAND, THE FASHIONABLE AND COURTLY

PHYSICIANS._

One cannot more strikingly emphasise the change which has taken place

during the present century in the views and practice of medical men

than by quoting from Sir Henry Halford’s biographical notice of

Baillie, the nephew of William and John Hunter, and brother of Joanna

Baillie. Here we have Halford acknowledging a current sentiment

against physical examination of the patient. “He (Baillie) appeared

to lay a great stress upon the information which he might derive from

the external examination of his patient, and to be much influenced

in the formation of his opinion of the nature of the complaint

by this practice. He had originally adopted this habit from the

peculiar turn of his early studies,—and assuredly such a method, not

indiscriminately but judiciously employed, as he employed it, is a

valuable auxiliary to the other ordinary means used by a physician,

of obtaining the knowledge of a disease submitted to him. But it is

equally true that, notwithstanding its air of mechanical precision,

such examination is not to be depended upon beyond a certain point.

Great disordered action may prevail in a part without having yet

produced such disorganisation as may be sensibly felt; and to doubt

of the existence of a disease because it is not discoverable to

the touch, is not only unphilosophical, but must surely, in many

instances, lead to unfounded and erroneous conclusions. One of the

inevitable consequences of such a system is frequent disappointment

in foretelling the issue of the malady, that most important of all

points to the reputation of a physician, and though such a mode of

investigation might not prove unsuccessful in the skilful hands

of Dr. Baillie, it must be allowed to be an example of dangerous

tendency to those who have not had his means of acquiring knowledge,

nor enjoyed the advantages of his great experience, nor have learned

by the previous steps of education and good discipline to reason and

judge correctly.” Halford then refers to the quickness with which a

good physician makes up his mind on the nature of a disease; at that

time it was oftener a guess than a process of reasoning. Baillie

was one of the first to study pathology, and to bring into practice

physical examination.

MATTHEW BAILLIE was born on the 27th October 1761, in the manse of

Shotts, Lanarkshire, his father having been Professor of Divinity

in Glasgow University, his mother, Dorothea, sister of William and

John Hunter. After two sessions at Glasgow, Baillie entered, in 1779,

at Balliol College, Oxford, where he completed his M.D. in 1789.

Residing during vacations with William Hunter, he became almost

like a son to him, and assisted him much in making his anatomical

preparations and superintending his dissecting-room. On the death of

his uncle in 1783, he and Cruickshank continued the lectures with

great success. Baillie lectured till 1799. One of his pupils said

of him that his style, though not eloquent, irresistibly commanded

attention; he appeared completely master of his subject, was

exceedingly clear, concise, and condensed, and never at a loss for an

appropriate word. He was always modest and unostentatious. When left

sole heir of his uncle William, he at once transferred to John Hunter

the family estate of Long Calderwood, to which he regarded him as

entitled.

Baillie’s principal work is pathological. In 1793 he published “The

Morbid Anatomy of some of the most Important Parts of the Human

Body,” and although pathology is now very different from what it was

in his day, and his classification is not now useful, his facts, when

properly interpreted, are still found excellent. The work met with

very great success, and was translated into many European languages,

besides going through five English editions in the author’s lifetime.

Baillie gradually got into good practice, being appointed physician

to St. George’s Hospital in 1787, elected Fellow of the College

of Physicians in 1790, Censor in 1791 and 1796, and Fellow of the

Royal Society in 1789. On the retirement of Dr. Pitcairn from

practice in 1798, Baillie succeeded to a great part of it, and

his practice was still further benefited by his marriage with the

daughter of Dr. Denman, whose great obstetric practice enabled him

to recommend Baillie very frequently. He resigned his hospital work

in 1799, and from that time had perhaps the leading practice in

London, making ten thousand pounds in some years. He was consulted

about George III.’s case, and in 1810 was made Physician to the

King and offered a baronetcy, which he declined. In 1814 he was

also appointed Physician-in-Ordinary to the Princess Charlotte, and

attended many members of the royal family. His manner towards his

fellow-practitioners was as pleasing as his conduct to patients. To

both he would carefully explain, as far as possible, his views of the

nature of the case and the treatment required, and he was exceedingly

successful in tranquillising the apprehensions of his patients.

His modesty was transparent. He would say to his friends: “I know

better perhaps than another man, from my knowledge of anatomy, how

to discover a disease, but when I have done so, I do not know better

how to cure it.” From this one is not surprised to learn that he

was not fertile in expedients, but if the simplest means failed, he

was often at a loss what to do next, and was not apt at varying his

prescriptions.

Baillie was not without an irritability of temper, in which we see

some resemblance to John Hunter; but his heart was at bottom most

kindly. He would often say after an outbreak, “I have spoken roughly

to that poor man; I must go and see him, be it ever so late;” “that

patient is in better health than I am myself, but I have been too

hard with him, I must make him amends.” There were many instances of

his great and delicate generosity to his patients. Overwork, to the

extent of devoting sixteen hours a day to practice, enfeebled his

constitution, and before the age of sixty he was compelled to retire

in a large measure from practice. He died at his seat, Duntisbourne

House, near Cirencester, on the 23d September 1823, leaving a fortune

of £80,000. He bequeathed a considerable sum to the College of

Physicians, with his manuscripts and other interesting curiosities,

such as the gold-headed cane used by Radcliffe, Mead, and others,

whose arms are engraved on it. He was buried in Duntisbourne Church,

but his memory was commemorated by his professional friends by a

fine bust by Chantrey in Westminster Abbey. His excellent qualities

and his strong religious principle were well set forth by Sir Henry

Halford in an address to the College of Physicians.

* * * * *

Sir HENRY HALFORD was long a contemporary of Baillie, but

survived him more than twenty years. He was the second son of

Dr. James Vaughan, a successful physician at Leicester, whose

third son became a judge of the Court of Common Pleas; the fourth

son was Dean of Chester and Warden of Merton College, Oxford;

the fifth, Envoy-extraordinary to the United States; and the

sixth was the father of Dean Vaughan, the well-known Master of

the Temple. The eldest son died in his twenty-third year. The

distinction which Vaughan’s sons attained shows that his judgment

was admirably exercised in their education. In fact, he spent his

whole professional income in providing for them the best possible

educational aids. Henry, like the others, was sent from Rugby to

Oxford (the youngest only going to Cambridge); and he records, in

eulogising his father’s treatment of them, that not one of them

asked or received further pecuniary assistance from him after he had

finished his education, and commenced his own efforts to provide for

himself.

Henry Vaughan was born on October 2d, 1766. Entering at Christchurch,

Oxford, he graduated B.A. in 1788, M.D. 1791. He studied medicine

for some months at Edinburgh, and also practised for a time with his

father at Leicester. About 1792 he came to London, and having a good

opening through his Oxford friends, had courage enough to borrow

£1000 on his own security in order to establish himself in London

practice. Here his good manners and evident learning stood him in

good stead, and he was elected physician to the Middlesex Hospital

in 1793, becoming a Fellow of the College of Physicians in 1794. In

March 1795 he still further promoted his advancement by his marriage

with the third daughter of Lord St. John, and rapidly rose into note.

With all his talents, however, it looks like one of fortune’s freaks

that Vaughan should have been appointed Physician-Extraordinary to

the King in 1793, at the age of twenty-seven; and that his practice

should have so increased that in 1800 he was compelled to give up his

hospital appointment. But fortune had more favours in store for him.

He inherited a large property on the death of Lady Denbigh, widow of

his mother’s cousin, Sir Charles Halford; and he consequently changed

his name in 1809 by Act of Parliament from Vaughan to Halford. George

III. created him a baronet in the same year.

The King had indeed a strong preference for Sir Henry Halford, as

he now became. He secured Sir Henry’s promise, before the onset of

his last long derangement, that he would not leave him, and that if

necessary he would call in also Dr. Heberden and Dr. Baillie. To

recite the number of royal personages to whom Sir Henry was physician

would be tedious; suffice it to mention that he attended, besides

George III., George IV., William IV., and Queen Victoria, having thus

been the physician of four English sovereigns.

There is no doubt that Halford possessed talents of a high order. He

is said to have been inferior to Baillie in accuracy of diagnosis,

but superior in the cure and alleviation of disease. He had quick

perception, sound judgment, and great knowledge of the powers of

medicines. For many years after Baillie’s illness and death he was

undisputedly at the head of London practice. At the College of

Physicians his rule continued unchecked, if not unquestioned, for

more than twenty years, he having been President from 1820 till

his death on the 9th of March 1844. He was largely instrumental in

securing the removal of the College from Warwick Lane in the city

to the present commodious building in Pall Mall East. His bust by

Chantrey was presented to the College by a number of Fellows. His

portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence is at Wistow, Leicestershire, where

he was buried in the parish church.

Halford’s early success was not favourable to his prosecuting

original research nor to his publishing much that is important. His

chief publications were first given as addresses to meetings of

the College of Physicians. In these he showed skill and pleasing

literary art. He wrote on the Climacteric Disease, on the Necessity

of Caution in the Estimation of Symptoms in the Last Stages of some

Diseases, on the Tic Douloureux, on Shakespeare’s Test of Insanity

(Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4), on the Influence of some of the Diseases

of the Body on the Mind, on Gout, on Phlegmasia Dolens, on the

Treatment of Insanity, and on the Deaths of some Illustrious Persons

of Antiquity—and again, on the Deaths of some Eminent Persons of

Modern Times. It is to be regretted perhaps that a man of such

accomplishments should have left so little behind him; but he was

of use to his day and generation; and as to the knowledge he had

attained, it served him only to affix the term “conjectural” to

medicine, when speaking of the confidence Baillie inspired. At least

he did not seem to have hidden from himself how little the medicine

of his days could lay claim to being completely informed.

* * * * *

WILLIAM FREDRIC CHAMBERS, the son of an East Indian civil servant,

whose family belonged to Northumberland, was born in India in

1786. Brought to England in 1793 in consequence of his father’s

death, he was educated at Bath, Westminster, and Trinity College,

Cambridge, where he graduated B.A. in 1808. He had hoped for a

fellowship, intending to take orders; but being disappointed, he

turned to medicine, and entered at the Great Windmill Street School,

subsequently spending a year at Edinburgh, and returning to study

at St. George’s Hospital, the Eye Infirmary at Moorfields, and at

Bateman’s celebrated Dispensary. His diligence, both in practical

medical study and in dissections, attracted the attention of the St.

George’s physicians, and on the resignation of Dr. Pelham Warren,

then one of the leaders of London practice, he was brought forward

and elected physician to the Hospital in 1816 when only thirty years

of age. His East Indian connection secured him, in 1819, the post

of examining physician to the East India Company, after being some

time assistant-physician. Notwithstanding his early prominence, his

professional income rose but slowly, showing that neither ability

nor patronage will avail greatly in competition with the established

favourites. It was 1825 before Chambers’s practice amounted to

£2000; and his pre-eminence was not marked till the death of Dr.

Maton in 1835, and the great age of Sir Henry Halford (who died

in 1844), left him in indisputed possession of the leading London

practice. From 1836 to about 1851 he received in fees between seven

and nine thousand guineas a year. In 1836 he was consulted by Queen

Adelaide, and in 1837 was made Physician-in-Ordinary to William IV.,

declining knighthood, though made Commander of the Guelphic order.

He was continued as Physician-in-Ordinary to Queen Victoria, and

his successful career was uninterrupted, except by rather frequent

ill-health. About 1851, owing to the failure of his health, he

retired from practice, and settled near Lymington, where he died on

the 17th December 1855.

Chambers did not win his success either by writing, teaching, or

discovering. In addition to a tall commanding figure, and the most

agreeable, yet straightforward manners, he possessed striking

decision, and pursued bold and successful plans of treatment in

acute diseases. He kept himself well acquainted with the advances of

others, and was early distinguished by his adopting the stethoscope.

Like many men of great eminence, he was at heart exceedingly

diffident, and felt acutely the responsibilities which he undertook.

He was continually in fear of doing something wrong or making a

mistake. Thus he undoubtedly was a most conscientious physician,

and it is to be feared that he gave himself much suffering by the

minutely painstaking system that he adopted. Both at the hospital

and in private practice, he personally recorded the particulars

of every case that he saw, together with all his prescriptions—an

astounding instance of laborious effort. In this way his private

practice furnished sixty-seven large quarto volumes of notes, which

were every day completely written up, and carefully indexed, so

that he could refer with the utmost ease to any case he had ever

seen. Moreover, he made in very many instances sketch maps of the

diseased organs, side by side with the description. So persistent was

he in this conscientious toil, that he often continued it far into

the night and even till daylight, resuming work again before nine

o’clock. Ill-health was a necessary consequence, but his reliability

was certain to tell in practice. He could scarcely depend on a single

regular meal a day, so great was the demand for his services. He

literally rushed through the streets driven post-haste at ten miles

an hour. After a serious illness in 1834, through having absorbed

poisonous matter from a patient who had died of pleurisy, his right

hand was distorted by the results of abscesses; and it was hence

vulgarly reported that his fingers had become crooked from the

continual habit of taking fees. The regard he won from others may be

evidenced by the fact that Sir Benjamin Brodie for some weeks visited

him daily during this illness at Tunbridge Wells, when this entailed

much greater loss of time than now. His liberality was well known,

and this, with his frequent illnesses, caused him to accumulate no

great fortune.

* * * * *

With regard to Sir HENRY HOLLAND, it is with regret that we own

how comparatively slight are his claims to a place in the gallery

of great medical men. He was accomplished beyond most men, but

one is compelled to ask, what did he accomplish with his great

opportunities? Whom did he teach? what did he teach? what did he

discover? His travelling excursions extended over almost the whole

globe except Australia. He was intimate for more than half a century

with many men and women of mark on both Continents. He knew well

the Presidents and statesmen of the United States; prescribed for

six Prime Ministers of England, as well as for its sovereigns and

princes. But even in regard to information of moment which he might

justifiably have given concerning them, he has been strikingly

reticent in his “Recollections of Past Life.”

Henry Holland, the son of Peter Holland, a much-respected medical

practitioner, was born at Knutsford in Cheshire, on October 27,

1788. His maternal grandmother was a sister of Josiah Wedgwood, the

eminent potter, and grandfather of Charles Darwin. Holland was also a

cousin of Mrs. Gaskell, the author of “Mary Barton,” and biographer

of Charlotte Brontë. He was educated first at Newcastle-on-Tyne

under the Rev. W. Turner, and early showed his predilection for

travel by making long pedestrian excursions in the neighbourhood.

In 1803, he went for a year to Dr. Estlin’s school, near Bristol,

where he succeeded at once to the position of head boy, left vacant

by John Cam Hobhouse, afterwards Lord Broughton, and where he also

commenced his long friendship with Richard Bright, who has already

been mentioned in this work. His classical and literary tastes here

developed, and were further fostered by a vacation passed at Dr.

Aikin’s at Stoke Newington, and in the society of his sister Mrs.

Barbauld and his daughter Lucy Aikin. Still, young Holland leaned

towards a commercial life, and entered a Liverpool merchant’s

office, with the stipulation that he was to spend two sessions at

Glasgow University. These saved him from being bound to a merchant’s

desk; for after his second session, 1805-6, he sought and obtained

release, and took up medicine. At Glasgow he had become intimate with

William Hamilton (afterwards Sir William), his discussions with whom

had doubtless a considerable influence on his mental development.

Holland’s literary talent already began to show itself, for he was

selected at the age of eighteen to draw up a Statistical Report on

the Agriculture of Cheshire for Government, and received for it £200,

double the sum proposed.

In October 1806, Holland entered at the Edinburgh Medical School;

but he did not confine himself exclusively to one school, for he

spent two succeeding winters in the Borough Schools of London, Guy’s

and St. Thomas’s, and in private study. Resuming at Edinburgh, he

took his degree in 1811. Travel had already found him apt; in 1810

he went to Iceland with Sir George Mackenzie and Richard Bright, and

contributed considerable portions to the narrative of the expedition.

Holland early became associated with the Whig section of Edinburgh

society, but he saw much of its general aspects, and he knew Walter

Scott, Dugald Stewart, Francis Jeffrey, Henry Erskine, and many

others known to fame. He had already made the acquaintance of Maria

Edgeworth during a visit to Ireland; and her letters to him would in

themselves fill a volume. Everywhere the bright pleasing intelligent

youth was welcomed. As he could not yet be admitted by the College of

Physicians owing to his lack of years, he undertook extensive travels

on the Continent, venturing into little-known regions, and published

his “Travels in Portugal, Sicily, the Ionian Islands, and Greece,”

in 1815, a work which yet further increased his fashionable repute.

Mrs. Piozzi, writing from Bath in 1815, says, “We have had a fine Dr.

Holland here. He has seen and written about the Ionian Islands, and

means now to practise as a physician—exchanging the Cyclades, say we

wits and wags, for the sick ladies. We made quite a lion of the man.

I was invited to every house he visited at for the last three days.

So I got the _queue du lion_, despairing of _le cœur_.”

Holland had spent much time in the military hospitals in Portugal

during his travels, and gained valuable experience. In Turkey he came

into contact with Ali Pasha, through whom he was deprived of most of

his papers relating to Albania, a mortifying loss at the time. After

his return home he speedily formed friendships with Lords Lansdowne,

Aberdeen, and Holland, which continued uninterrupted save by death,

and of course led to his intimacy with many other persons of note,

traits in whose characters are recorded in the “Recollections.” We

cannot here follow the incidents of the brilliant social life into

which Henry Holland entered with so much zest. Suffice it to mention

that he was elected to the Royal Society in 1816, and admitted on the

same day as Lord Byron, who on that occasion made his only visit.

Henry Holland was an almost constant guest at Holland House. In the

summer of 1814 he became domestic medical attendant on the Princess

(afterwards Queen) Caroline, to accompany her during her first year

of travel on the Continent. This situation became one of extreme

delicacy, and its importance was very manifest at her trial years

afterwards, where Dr. Holland’s evidence, declaring that he had never

seen anything improper or derogatory in her behaviour to Bergami or

any other person, proved of extreme weight in her behalf.

A man of such connections could not fail to gain almost as much

practice as he liked. His visits to Spa for four successive years,

after the London season, strengthened his professional prospects,

and his fourth year’s practice brought him over £1200. In a few

years he was able to resolve that his professional income should

never exceed £5000, and that he would give to study, recreation,

or travel all his surplus time. Thus happily placed, Henry Holland

became the friend of every man of note, the patron of science at

the Royal Institution, of which he was long president—but not the

hospital physician, the clinical teacher, the original writer, the

promoter of medical reform, or the habitué of the medical societies.

He dined out, and never reproved his patients for the lapses from

physiological prudence which he observed at the table. The “frequent

half hour of genial conversation” was what he bestowed and was most

capable of bestowing on his patients. Perhaps he thereby solaced

their days of tedium or hypochondria as well as others who might have

sought to root up their habits or impart tone to their minds with

more ruthless energy. “When Lady Palmerston was suffering from an

illness that occasioned some alarm to her friends,” said the _Times_,

in its obituary notice of Holland, “one of them, meeting the late Dr.

Fergusson, asked anxiously how she was. ‘I can’t give you a better

notion of her recovery,’ was the reply, ‘than by telling you that I

have just received my last fee, and that she is now left entirely to

Holland.’” On this being repeated to Lord Palmerston his lordship

mused a little, and then said, “Ah! I see what he means. When you

trust yourself to Holland, you should have a superfluous stock of

health for him to work upon.” Holland himself had this superfluous

stock of health. When over eighty he writes: “A frequent source of

amusement to myself is my incapacity for walking slowly; and the

sort of compulsion I even now feel to pass those immediately before

me in the street, and to take the diagonal instead of the two sides

of a square, whenever this is the alternative. When I cease to take

the diagonal (often a dirty one) instead of the side pavements, I

shall consider that I have gone a step downwards in the path of

life.” His excursions were almost all taken alone; but he evidently

seldom put himself out of the reach of general society, as good

as the neighbourhood afforded. He was no recluse, yet apparently

not a man of a few warm strong personal friendships. If he was we

find no record of it. From his utter reticence about his medical

contemporaries, we should judge that he did not at bottom appreciate

them as they deserved.

To give briefly a few of the more notable dates in Holland’s life, he

married first, in 1822, a Miss Caldwell, who died in 1830, leaving

two sons, the present Sir Henry Holland and the Rev. F. J. Holland;

and secondly, in 1834, Saba, daughter of Sydney Smith. He was made

Physician-Extraordinary to the Queen in 1837; Physician-in-Ordinary

to the Prince-Consort in 1840; was offered, but declined, a

baronetcy by Lord Melbourne in 1841; was made Physician-in-Ordinary

to the Queen in 1852, and accepted a baronetcy in 1853. In later

years he withdrew altogether from practice, but continued active in

society and persevering in travel. In his last journey, to Russia, he

was accompanied by his son, the Rev. F. J. Holland; on his way back

he attended the trial of Marshal Bazaine at Versailles on the 24th

October 1873, dined the same day at the British Embassy, returned

to London the next day, did not go out on Sunday the 26th, and died

quietly in bed on the 27th, on the 85th anniversary of his birth.

To this extraordinary age lived the man who had been seen in all

climates, in the Arctic Circle or in the Tropics, on the Prairies or

the Pyramids, in the same black dress coat in which he almost ran

from house to house at home. Sydney Smith said of him that he started

off for two months at a time with a box of pills in one pocket and

a clean shirt in the other—occasionally forgetting the shirt. Let

Sir Henry tell his own tale of his enjoyment. “The Danube I have

followed, with scarcely an interruption, from its assumed sources at

Donau-Eschingen to the Black Sea—the Rhine, now become so familiar to

common travel, from the infant stream in the Alps. The St. Lawrence

I have pursued uninterruptedly for nearly two thousand miles of its

lake and river course. The waters of the Upper Mississippi I have

recently navigated for some hundred miles below the falls of St.

Anthony. The Ohio, Susquehanna, Potomac, and Connecticut rivers I

have followed far towards their sources; and the Ottawa, grand in

its scenery of waterfalls, lakes, forests, and mountain gorges, for

three hundred miles above Montreal. There has been pleasure to me

also in touching upon some single point of a river, and watching the

flow of waters which come from unknown springs or find their issue in

some remote ocean or sea. I have felt this on the Nile at its time of

highest inundation, in crossing the Volga when scarcely wider than

the Thames at Oxford, and still more when near the sources of the

streams that feed the Euphrates, south of Trebizond.” Altogether Sir

Henry estimated that he had spent twelve years of his life in foreign

travel.

Literary work was a pastime with Holland, and both in the Quarterly

and the Edinburgh Reviews he delighted to show his extensive

reading, and his enlightened yet very unrevolutionary views. His

more interesting reviews have been published as “Scientific Essays,”

and “Chapters on Mental Physiology;” while his “Medical Notes and

Reflections” constitutes almost all his practical contribution to

medical science. Interesting “Fragmentary Papers” were published

posthumously. In the “Medical Notes” certain current questions

were philosophically discussed in a most pleasing style, and some

questions of practice treated with some originality if not with

boldness. Two chapters may be especially alluded to as valuable,

namely, those “On the Abuse of Purgative Medicines,” and “On

Bleeding in Affections of the Brain.” Many of his chapters on

Mental Physiology show wide observation and kindly insight into the

relations of mind and body. But after all it is by his “Recollections

of Past Life” that Holland will be most known, his sketches of the

leading personages, politicians, wits, and scientific and literary

men having a charming vividness and truthfulness about them, making

every one regret that so many limitations were imposed by the author

upon himself when he might have easily furnished so much more

material for history.

Holland was of the middle height, spare in appearance, but very

active; with a countenance not indicative of the highest mental

power.

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