Twelve years ago a lady (whom I met lately) had hemorrhage of the lungs
three times. She was told by seven doctors in the country that she "had
not a week to live." She had young children, and determined to make a
great effort to see Sir Andrew Clark. He prophesied she would get well,
providing she at once left the damp climate where she was then living
and made her permanent home at Malvern. A week after she had taken his
remedies she walked up the Wrekin. From that day she saw Sir Andrew once
every year, and looks upon herself as a monument of his skill.
"Die to live," was a favourite saying of Sir Andrew's. "In congenial
work you will find life, strength, and happiness." This certainly was
his own experience. Only in July last he said to the writer of this
notice: "I never know what it is to feel well now, but work is the joy
of my life."
He could, however, place strict limits as to how much a _patient_ might
work. It is well known how docile and obedient a patient he had in Mr.
Gladstone. One evening, coming downstairs muffled up to avoid a worse
cold, he was met by Sir Andrew with the greeting, "Where are you going?"
"To the House," said Mr. Gladstone. "No, you are not," replied his
friend; "you are going straight to bed!" and to bed he went. Sir Andrew
also limited the time Mr. Gladstone should speak. On one occasion,
however, notwithstanding the fact that the peremptory adviser was
present, watch in hand, Mr. Gladstone, after throwing down the written
speech as the clock struck, went on for another half-hour![A] This
disobedience was the exception which proved the rule.
[A] The substance of this anecdote which I quote from memory,
appeared in the _Daily News_, and happened at Newcastle.
Mr. Gladstone was a friend for whom Sir Andrew had the highest respect
and veneration, and hardly ever passed a day without going to see him.
Shortly before he was taken ill he said: "For twenty years I have never
heard Gladstone say an unkind or vituperative word of anyone."
[Illustration: NURSE HARRISON--LONDON HOSPITAL.
(The nurse who tended Sir Andrew Clark in his last illness.)
_From a Photograph by Mavor & Meredith._]
With respect to fees, he always took what was offered: sometimes he
would receive £500 for a long journey, sometimes two guineas. The
following is no doubt but one of many similar experiences. After a hard
day's work he was urgently summoned to a place 120 miles from London. It
was a very wet night. There was no carriage to meet him; no fly to be
had. After walking a mile or two he arrived at a small farm, and found
the daughter suffering from an attack of hysteria. Sir Andrew, with his
usual kindness, did what he could and evidently gave satisfaction, for
when he left the mother said: "Well, Sir Andrew, you have been so kind
we must make it double," and handed him two guineas. He thanked them and
said: "Good-bye."
Sir Andrew would never hear of charging more than his usual fee because
a person happened to be very rich. In a word, he was honest. On one
occasion when going to see a patient in the south, the doctor who was to
meet him in consultation met Sir Andrew at the station, told him they
were rich, and quite prepared to pay a very high fee. But Sir Andrew
replied: "I did not come from London," and naming the place where he was
staying, said, "My fee is only a third of the sum you name." Sir Andrew
was not indifferent to fees; on the contrary, he rather took a pride in
telling how much he earned. He is said to have once received £5,000 for
going to Cannes, the largest _medical_ fee known. Some, however, have
wondered who did pay him--so numerous were his non-paying patients. From
Anglican and Roman Catholic clergy, sisters, nuns, and all engaged in
any charitable work (unless rich men) he would never consent to receive
a fee, at the same time making it felt that unwillingness to accept his
advice "would deprive him of a pleasure"; and it was felt that this was
literally true, and if anything the patients whom he saw "as a friend"
were shown more consideration than others. "Come and see me next week,"
he said to one who demurred to the necessity for going again, knowing he
would not accept a fee, "and I will arrange that you shall not be
kept waiting."
[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF A PRESCRIPTION WRITTEN BY SIR ANDREW CLARK.]
The present Lord Tennyson writes: "We are among the many who are much
indebted to Sir Andrew Clark. It was in a great measure owing to him
that my father recovered from his dangerous attack of gout in 1888, when
'he was as near death as a man could be.' After this illness Sir Andrew
paid us a visit, at Aldworth, in the summer of 1889. He told us that he
had come in spite of a summons from the Shah, to which he had replied
that the Shah's Hakim could not obey, as he had promised to visit his
old friend--the old Poet. Sir Andrew added: 'This disobedience of your
humble and devoted physician for the sake of his friend, the crowned
King of Song, struck the crowned King of Kings so much that, so far from
being offended, he took a noble view, and, as a mark of signal honour,
sent me the Star of the Second Class of the Lion and Sun of Persia.'"
[Illustration: SIR JAMES CLARK.
(Eldest son of Sir Andrew Clark.)
_From a Photograph by Wyrall, Aldershot._]
Sundays were often spent out of town, at Hawarden and elsewhere, and
latterly at Camfield, the house so lately purchased. Both this and his
town house were entirely furnished, as he wished each to be complete
in itself.
Already at Essendon the example of his life was felt to be a power for
good, as well as the kind interest he took in his poorer neighbours,
inviting them up to his house, promising to give the men a dinner at
Christmas, etc. Yet Sir Andrew was no "country gentleman"; his favourite
recreation was books. On being asked: "Which way are we looking? In
which direction is London?" he replied: "I don't know." "Don't you know
how the house stands, or what soil it is built upon?" and again he had
to plead ignorance.
Nevertheless, his love of neatness made him notice if a place was in
good order. One day, driving over to see some neighbours, after
congratulating them on the well-kept garden, he was getting into the
carriage, when he suddenly remembered he had not told the gardener how
much pleased he was with the whole place, and with his usual courtesy
insisted on going back to find him.
One of Sir Andrew's holidays was a trip to Canada, when he accompanied
the Marquis of Lorne and Princess Louise, on the former being appointed
Governor-General there. This he did as a friend, and in no way in a
medical capacity. He was most popular on the voyage out among the
passengers, keeping the ship alive with jokes and amusing stories, and
many called him "Merry Andrew." He was almost boyish in his keen
enjoyment of a holiday. He was evidently devoted to music, and was
delighted with the beautiful string band the Duke of Edinburgh brought
on board at Halifax. In Canada, Sir Andrew was most warmly received and
universally liked by everyone. Amongst others he made the acquaintance
of Sir John Macdonald.
The Princess told me without doubt there was one predominating interest
in his mind, and that the supernatural--whether at a British Association
meeting, the College of Physicians, or speaking privately to his own
friends. He realized the impossibility of explaining by scientific
methods the supernatural. He would often say: "There is more in Heaven
and earth than this world dreams of. Given the most _perfect_ scientific
methods, you will find beyond abysses which you are powerless
to explore."
He had the greatest charm of mind, and, needless to say, was a
delightful companion. His topics of conversation were extremely varied:
he liked dialectics for talk and argument's sake, and enjoyed talking to
those who had somewhat the same taste. Possibly for this reason he did
not fully appreciate children, although they amused him, and he liked to
understand their ideas. A friend of Sir Andrew's staying with him at the
time told me the following characteristic anecdote: One afternoon during
his autumn holiday in Scotland the footman came in to put coals on the
fire, and a child (a relation) coughed vehemently. "Why do you cough so
much?" said Sir Andrew. "To make James look at me," said the child. Sir
Andrew was "solemnly interested," and afterwards took it as a parable of
a woman's nature, which, speaking generally, he considered morally and
ethically inferior to a man's. In his opinion very many women were
wanting in the two great qualities--justice and truth--considering their
own, their children's, or their husband's interests first rather than
what was absolutely right.
One subject that interested him very much was heredity, and he had, of
course, countless opportunities of studying it. "Temperance and
morality," he would say, "are most distinctly transmitted, especially by
the mother; but," said Sir Andrew, "in spite of heredity, I am what I
am by my own choice."
Sir Andrew was a great reader. Metaphysics, philosophy, and theology
were his favourite subjects, especially the latter--he also occasionally
read a good novel. Reading was his only relaxation, for it was one he
could enjoy while driving or in the train. Dr. Russell, who was with him
when going to attend the tercentenary of Dublin College, tells the story
how Sir Andrew not only read but wrote hour after hour in the railway
carriage, and, in addition, listened to the conversation. Dr. Russell
Reynolds, Sir James Paget, Sir Dyce Duckworth, and Sir R. Quain were of
the party, and the two latter joined Dr. Russell in remarking with him
that it would ruin his eyesight. "I am using my eyes, not abusing them,"
replied Sir Andrew; "you cannot injure any organ by the exercise of it,
but by the excess of exercise of it. I would not do it were I not
accustomed to read and write without the smallest amount of mischief."
I much regret that lack of space prevents my describing the London
Hospital as I should like. Of most hospitals Sir Andrew was a governor,
but his great interest was the London, of which he and Lady Clark were
both life governors.
While Sir Andrew was visiting physician he came regularly twice a week,
as well as for consultation. He was interested in everything that
concerned the patients, and always had a kind word for the nurses. One
nurse in the Charlotte Ward (Sir Andrew Clark's) said he used literally
to shovel out half-crowns at Christmas when he asked what the patients
were going to do. Everyone speaks Of the pecuniary sacrifice and strain
his connection with the hospital involved. He endowed a medical
tutorship, also scholarships for students. Students, nurses, etc., would
eagerly listen to his informal expositions in the wards, as he
invariably showed a grasp of the subject that was equally minute and
comprehensive. "He would start from some particular point and work his
way point by point down to the minutest detail, not bewildering by a
multiplicity of facts, but keeping them all in order with perfect
handling, until the framing of the whole thing stood out luminously
clear to the dullest comprehension. An old pupil says his well-known
authoritative manner was the result of a profound and laboriously
acquired knowledge of his art, acquired by years of careful work in
hospital wards and post-mortem rooms."--_Medical Journal_.
[Illustration: SIR ANDREW CLARK.
_From a Painting by G.F. Watts, R.A._]
Happily there are two portraits of Sir Andrew. The last beautifully
painted picture by Mr. Watts (which by the great kindness of the artist
is allowed to be reproduced in this sketch) was only finished a few days
before Sir Andrew was taken ill--for he could only sit from eight till
nine a.m. It is one of the series Mr. Watts is so generously giving to
the nation, and he "thinks it one of his best." Sir Andrew himself was
delighted with it, saying in his hearty way to Mrs. Watts: "Why, it
_thinks_!" The position in the picture by Frank Holl is unfortunate.
Very imperfectly I have described the varied work of a man of limitless
energy, with an exceptionally keen appreciation of men and things. A
great man has passed away, and we are poorer in consequence.
* * * * *
_Beauties:--Children._
[Illustration: Winnifred Emma Heale.
_From a Photo. by Heath & Bradnee, Exeter._]
[Illustration: Edith Marguerite Dickinson.
_From a Photo. by J. Hargreaves, Barrow-in-Furness._]
[Illustration: Myrta Vivienne Stubbs.
_From a Photo. by Medringtons, Ltd., Liverpool._]
[Illustration: Kathleen Keyse
_From a Photograph._]
[Illustration: Madge Erskine
_From a Photo. by Allison & Allison, Belfast._]
[Illustration: Dorothy Birch Done
_From a Photo. by Stanley Hurst, Wrexham._]
[Illustration: Evelyn Mary Dowdell.
_From a Photo. by G. Ridsdale Cleare, Lower Clapton, N. E._]
[Illustration: Nelly M. Morris.
_From a Photo. by J. W. Thomas, Colwyn Bay._]
[Illustration: Aligander Smith.
_From a Photo. by Norman, May, & Co., Ltd., Malvern._]
* * * * *
_The Signatures of Charles Dickens (with Portraits)._