Date: Thu, 17 Jul 2014 22:42:57 +0100
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@gmail.com>
Subject: Tom Browning's Schooldays Chapter 87
Tom Browning's Schooldays
By
Joel
Chapter EightySeven
Epilogue Part One
Saturday September 22nd 1900
I sit here in Great St Mary's in contemplation of my life and that of
others close and dear to me. Sitting, waiting to honour another life now
sadly departed. His remains will enter soon before being taken after this
hallowed service to his final resting place in the vault with his
ancestors. The organist, our Fellow in Music, Dr Daniel Palmer is playing
that most beautiful of Sebastian Bach's Chorale Preludes 'Schmucke dich, O
liebe Seele' and will, as I requested, play the great Passacaglia in C
minor which I know Daniel has timed to end as the hearse reaches the door
at eleven o'clock.
I look towards the chancel where my dearest friend and companion
through life sits enveloped in his scarlet robes, our Master of St Mark's,
Dr Robin Goodhew. Me, though a Doctor myself, am arrayed in my MA gown and
hood as it would not be politic to flaunt my MD from Edinburgh! A sad
thought hits me. There will be one dear friend missing when I am conferred
with an MD [Cantab] Honoris Causa in a month's time for my devotion, as it
has been said, to the College as Honorary Fellow and Physician. Dear Robin
when made Fellow in Mathematics did, as required all those years ago, take
Holy Orders as a deacon. There he remained believing what he could and
rejecting what he could not. I could not believe, so with the blessing of
the College Council was made an Honorary Fellow with full rights to College
benefits and as such I continue!
Many others are entering this edifice as I sit. I stand and bow my
head to some who take their places along my pew. Some are robed in scarlet
or in black, others resplendent in the most modern of tailoring. As I sit
I turn my head to my side where another dear friend and fellow physician is
sitting. We look at each other with wan smiles and tears in our eyes. The
death was not unexpected but the parting is hard. Dr Timothy Turner has
been my partner in the physicians' practice I had set up on King's Parade
soon after I returned to Cambridge after my studies in Paris and Edinburgh.
His expertise and kindly manner has endeared him to generations of
undergraduates as well as the citizens of Cambridge. His companion and
fellow apothecary and physician, Dr Jeremy Mead, sits beside him. Beyond
them is the renowned judge and advocate His Honour Theodore Davis QC. Grey
now and stooping but our friendship stretches back to that first day at
Ashbourne School.
There is a whisper behind me. Another pair of friends have entered
and taken their places. Older than I but still sprightly, Jabez Bottom and
Mehmet Sevinc, have shared the house above the consulting rooms with me and
Robin for the past seven years, having retired from Her Majesty's service
loaded with honours. Mainly secret honours for their work dealing with
those who have little or no regard for good governance and the safety of
the populace. They have joined others, long-standing friends from the
Bartoli clan whose eating- houses and shops here in Cambridge and London
are of great repute.
The stately theme of the Passacaglia sounds and the twenty variations
above it will begin and wend their inexorable way to those final
semiquavers and the held chord. It would seem most of the congregation is
now present. The two empty places beside me are now taken. I turned,
stood, and acknowledged those members of his family. The younger still a
youth but with the looks of his uncle as I remembered him at that age.
The verger brings three more to the other end of the long pew. I
raise a hand in greeting as Sir Philip Goodhew RA and his brother Professor
James Goodhew with Mr Nathaniel Dyer FSA take their places. A vestry door
opens and a surpliced boy bearing a crucifix comes through leading the
choir of men and boys of St Mark's College followed by their choirmaster
Augustus Pennefather, They take their places in the choir stalls as the
final two variations are played. Faintly, the passing bell is tolling,
then stops.
The main door of the church clangs open. The hearse has arrived. The
C minor chord fades from the organ above the door. We stand as the College
chaplain, the Reverend Dr Jacob Palmer solemnly intones 'I am the
Resurrection and the Life...'
1847 - 1856
What busy times those first years were at St Mark's. They went so
fast but Robin and I relished being students. We studied hard but that did
not mean we did not have our pleasures as well. We had experienced the
sots and louts in Pratt's House so were not surprised that many students
let loose from school and parental ties spent a deal of their time in
ale-houses, bawdy-houses and the theatres. We hoped we were not prigs but
drank more sparely than some, though did wake with sore heads on a few
occasions. Many boasted of losing their virginities but we were not
enticed to explore the female flesh on offer at a price. The price
sometimes included infections which became a source of income for me later!
Robin and I had each other as companions and lovers and remained quite
faithful throughout.
However, there were other games and sports aplenty. These we did join
in. Blaze and Silver had been put to grass at Careby so we had a young
gelding apiece, my father's gifts. We were not idling at home, and rode,
somewhat sedately, to hounds usually once a week in the season. Both of us
learned to row and our arm and chest muscles developed with that exercise
while our legs bore the brunt of football for Robin and running to and from
Grantchester for me. We swam, too, though the Cam was a foul sewer at
times, however, the College had a secret garden with a pool fed by its own
spring. It was supposedly for the Fellows alone but we young fellows were
allowed access for we were convinced our nakedness as we cavorted there was
a joy to behold for many a crusty old bachelor! We made good friends of
those on our Stair and in our third year were joined there by Harry Lawson
and Matthew Coulson whose antics especially in our dramatics became almost
legendary. Both made their names first as actors and then impresarios much
to their families' consternation but to the delight and approbation of the
many thousands who have attended their productions over the years. They
are here today somewhere in the pews behind me.
My medical studies in the dissecting rooms, lecture halls, hospital
wards and those searching tutorials with Dr Quick meant my time was filled
to capacity. Dr Quick said he never knew a student who had so many
questions to ask and who questioned everything. It was the training I had
already received from my now long-departed cousin Lancelot which formed my
enquiring mind. I received a stipend also as deputy organist in the Chapel
and that skill developed for I received further instruction from the
organist of King's College who was renowned for his expertise. After a
tiring day receiving instruction on, say, anatomy and physiology, an hour
in the organ loft with our gyp, another of the tribe of Knotts, pumping for
me, was a great way to relax and put my thoughts in order.
Robin's life was no less arduous. His three years of undergraduate
life were not only busy with his duties as Servant of the Chapel but his
mathematical studies were such that he spent time with the most eminent
mathematicians in other Colleges as well. Our own Fellow in Mathematics
was elderly and poorly organised other than administering the college
cellar and its stock of bottles and barrels. In Robin's opinion it was
only Mr X's possession of a full complement of fingers and toes that let
him get to counting to twenty! Robin's expertise grew apace and he was
renowned even in his third year for his development of certain ideas which
were far beyond the limits of my comprehension and of numerous of his
fellow students. Limits, yes, the study of limits was one of his
strengths, but whatever came his way he absorbed and questioned and delved
and added his own thoughts and findings. He corresponded almost weekly
with Aubrey Bayes in Heidelberg who was making his own advances and between
them solved several fundamental problems which set certain courses for
further study. A great joy was that Robin was named a Wrangler for his
success in his degree examinations.
Without too much of a boast I admit my examiners were impressed with
my progress. Once armed with my first degrees in medicine and surgery Dr
Quick recommended I should study, as he and my cousin did, at Paris or
Leiden. I chose Paris and Edinburgh for many new and innovative ideas were
emerging in both of these centres of medical excellence. The welcome in
Paris by the Count de Roanne was most expansive. He insisted I should not
seek accommodation elsewhere but in his own house. His finances must have
been more secure for a fine new three-manual organ had been installed with
a full set of German pedals and my further medical studies were enhanced by
the concerts and recitals which he had in his house or took me to in the
salons of his many friends. I made acquaintance of a deal of French and
Italian opera as well while there mainly in the company of his nephews, the
Johnson twins, who were studying architecture. My only sadness was that my
Robin was not with me. The other sadness was on my visit to Riom old
Monsieur Fontane had died. However, his son Jacques and my distant cousin
Charlotte were now well-established. He as a physician and she as a
teacher of English.
I went on then to Edinburgh to study and to present my thesis for the
award of the Doctorate in Medicine on the basis of, dare I say, some rather
delicate anatomical studies. Again, I was given a great welcome in a known
household. Here it was by the Forsythe family into which Jacques' sister,
Marie, had married. I lodged with them though, sadly, Marie had succumbed
to that dreaded phthisis, the disease of bleeding and wasting of the lungs.
The joy was that her son, young James Forsythe, was a clever boy and had
entered a fine school in Edinburgh. I was a great help to him in one way
with my surgical skill. He was near to entering the accelerated growth of
young lads and was seen to wince when wishing to pass water. As a doctor,
as well as concerned distant cousin, I questioned him and on inspection
found him to be afflicted with phimosis, or an inability to withdraw his
over- tight foreskin. I explained to his grandfather that a slight
operation was necessary. He gave his permission and under the guidance of
my Professor of Surgery I performed that procedure which was to become a
useful adjunct to my skills. It was also under the guidance of that
Professor I learned how to administer the correct amount of ether or
chloroform vapour to dull any pain. With my examinations in anatomy and
surgery, and presentation of my thesis on my observations of the disparate
nature of the development of the sexual parts of some four hundred youths
between the ages of fourteen and seventeen both in Paris and Edinburgh, I
emerged from the eighteen months I had spent in Edinburgh with that coveted
degree.
With only short periods of time together when our itineraries matched
Robin and I were parted for near three years. Of course, we corresponded
with great regularity but, whenever we met, we knew our love and affection
for each other had not diminished. Neither of us had succumbed to an
affection for other men, though we both could recount a number of what
might be described as close encounters. We had a code between us for these
in our letters to each other. We called them 'our Radcliffes'!
We returned to be together again in the summer of 1853. Two
announcements were made that September. Robin Goodhew MA (Cantab) was
appointed Fellow in Mathematics at St Mark's College and Thomas Browning MA
(Cantab) MD (Edin) was appointed an Honorary Fellow as Physician and Tutor
in Medicine to the College. Although it seemed my Robin had less than me
in academic honours he heard just before Christmas of that year that his
own thesis had been accepted by the University of Heidelberg and he was now
a Doctor of that venerable establishment. Congratulations flew back and
forth for our great friend Aubrey Bayes was also awarded the same degree
and would be returning to London to take up an appointment at the
University College. Unfortunately within five years he was dead, killed by
that dread disease which had claimed Marie Forsythe and was the scourge of
many. It was something I would make part of my life's work to investigate.
As one grows older there are many sadnesses. My Uncle Digby had
decided to leave his position in Her Majesty's Service and move from London
to Careby and Barnes Hall with my Aunt Fanny. The establishment in Charles
Street was still maintained but was now under the direction of Mr Tuckwell,
revealed in his pseudonym as Lord Falconer, with the band of faithful
acolytes enhanced by fully-fledged Jabez Bottom and Mehmet Sevinc. My
brother Terence, now a Major, was in the background of that enterprise with
his companion, Caleb Bottom. Uncle Digby's general health improved for a
while but on catching a chill he succumbed to pneumonia even with the
ministrations of my cousin Lancelot. We heard that in that New Year he
would have been elevated to a Barony for his faithful duty to the Crown.
As it was his baronetcy passed to Nicholas, his recognised son, in America
where such titles were given short shrift.
Nicholas and Cornelius had prospered so we heard. We were beseeched
to make the journey to see and experience the growth of that country. We
heard they had taken a young Red Indian youth into their household and, as
he was adept at drawing, would be a most useful adjunct to their
architectural enterprises. We were much impressed with his name of Richard
Red Hawk and the daguerreotype sent to use showed a most handsome young man
in his native costume and headdress. Our two journeys to that huge country
were to come some years later.
Both my Uncle Dodd and Aunt Matty died in the winter of 1849.
Lancelot told me both had growths which he could not relieve other than by
increasing doses of laudanum. Their graves in the churchyard at Careby
were joined by a stone carved with great love and affection by Steven
Goodhew and his ex-apprentice, now a fully qualified stone mason, Liam
Keegan. Steven had willingly taken him as a partner in his trade and not
just as a paid journeyman. Liam's cousin, Niall, had made decisions and
was then in Rome studying to become a Catholic priest. Mr Grindcobbe said
he was sad to see him go for he was showing not only expertise as a
scrivener but also was adept in preparing conveyances for property
transactions which needed careful preparation.
A particular sadness was that a second daughter had been born to my
brother Torquil and his wife Elizabeth but had not survived.
Unfortunately, a surgeon had to be called to her delivery for the child was
in a wrong position and Elizabeth needed urgent attention. He proved to be
quite incompetent and in assisting the midwife must have severed a blood
vessel in the babe's abdomen and it was not noticed in all the blood and
mess associated with a difficult birth. Victoria Albertina, as she would
have been named, did not take even her first breath and no more children
were born to them. However, their daughter Amelia was growing and the sons
of Geoffrey and Rosamund Lascelles were hale and hearty.
Freddy Neville went to Leipzig to study the pianoforte further though,
sadly, Dr Mendelssohn had died. Freddy's studies there over three years
were extensive and both his playing and his compositions won acclaim. His
playing of the Chopin Piano Concerto Number One in Berlin began his career
across Europe and he was in great demand. After his grandfather died he
made Moss Hall his English base but also delighted us with his visits to
Cambridge.
My father began to suffer from shortness of breath and this
precipitated my brother Torquil's resigning his commission and taking over
the running of the stables in the spring of 1852 and moving to Careby with
Elizabeth and their daughter, Amelia. Both Squire Matthews and his wife
had succumbed to old age and the son in Canada could not be found so dear
Torquil became known as Squire for they took over the Manor House! He made
few changes to the regime of the stables and the hunters produced provided
more than a steady income. Elizabeth took over the role of my Aunt Matty
and continued her good works with the help of my mother and Aunt Fanny who
both remained hale and hearty and a great support for their daughter-in-law
or niece-in-law.
Philip Goodhew was now becoming well-known as a portraitist. He
maintained it was the easiest way for an artist to make money as all and
sundry, including the gentry, liked to see themselves above the
mantelpiece! When eighteen his brother James announced he would be
studying at St Mark's College. Not in Cambridge, but in London, where a
college of that name for the training of schoolmasters had been set up by
the Church of England in Chelsea. His first appointment was as a master in
a select school for the sons of clergy and liverymen in the centre of
London. His first novel was published when he was just twenty- one.
We made many excursions to London to visit relations and friends,
especially so when Timmy, now properly Timothy, Turner and Jeremy Mead
finished their apprenticeships and qualified to become members of the
Society of Apothecaries. In London after the conferment of their
memberships we took them to a performance of Donizetti's opera 'The Elixir
of Love' with the tale of Dr Dulcamara the quack doctor and his love potion
which is no more than cheap Bordeaux wine. I said we could set up in
competition now with all the other quacks and charlatans who set up and
touted their wares on the Cambridge market- place. That jest did not sit
well with the newly-qualified young gentlemen. Just because I was properly
styled 'Doctor' did not mean they could not use the same appellation which
more and more qualified apothecaries were taking as their own. It was not
long after that when Dr Turner joined me in ministering to more and more
patients in my private practice and Dr Mead took over the running of the
two thriving Pharmacies from his father.
Two constant friends were George Lascelles and Theo Davis. Theo had
studied Law at Oxford and was called to the Bar in Middle Temple and joined
his brother's chambers. Our George rose from being Cornet of Horse to
Captain of a troop in just four years. He seemed to live at my Aunt
Fanny's or at his brother's house in James Street when not on duty. George
was a great favourite of my nephews Peter and Philemon who were packed off
to the new Ashbourne-by-the Sea, as they called it, as soon as they were
twelve. As predicted, Mr Ridley had retired and the Reverend Mr Martin
became the new Headmaster. We were amused that Pratt's House was no more.
He, too, had retired and took himself to Nice in the South of France where
he fascinated the natives and visitors with his haughty manners and the
Englishness of his dress whatever the weather. His entourage of sultry
young male servants caused many an eyebrow to be raised.
In 1853 the news-sheets were full of foreboding for the troops of the
Tsar of Russia had invaded the Ottoman Empire. Things would have been most
unpleasant for our Turkish friends and Serge the Russian masseur at the
Jermyn Street Baths. However, the owners of the baths, including my Uncle
Digby, had sold their interests in them after Mr Sevinc, Mehmet's and
Karem's father, and Serge had retired in 1851. The older members of the
two families lived happily together on good pensions, and what they had
saved from their labours, in a large villa in Clapham and whatever then
occurred in those lands passed them by. Also, with Mehmet employed with
Jabez under Lord Falconer and Karem with my Aunt Fanny at Barnes Hall they
were not involved in any strife. The notoriety which then grew up around
the Jermyn Street Baths is another story not to be related here!
Then came disaster. We heard of the deployment of a great number of
British and French soldiers, mainly infantrymen, to defend certain states
around the Danube from Russian troops. These, though depleted through
deaths, mainly through illness, kept the Russians from advancing and moved
forward to the town of Sebastopol in the Crimea and besieged the Russians
there. News came in the middle of 1854 that officers and troopers from the
regiment were to be shipped to aid the siege. Our friend George Lascelles,
now Major, and several of the younger officers were sent to command the
mounted troops. What we heard next was terrible. There had been a pitched
battle at a place called Inkerman in early November and many on both sides
were killed or injured. We had no news of the fate of George and his
comrades until Tuesday the 18th of November. Just as we were breakfasting
that morning a tired and agitated Caleb Barker was admitted. He had
travelled on the first train from London to Cambridge to bring the news
that George, with two companion officers named Lacey, who were brothers,
had arrived the night before by steam packet in the Pool of London and
needed immediate medical and surgical attention. George, though apparently
either delirious or under the influence of laudanum for his pain, had
insisted I and Timmy were the only ones who could deal with him. Another
physician had been called but shook his head and said things were beyond
his expertise.
What could we do but obey the command from our dearest friend? From
Caleb's description George had suffered slashing sabre wounds to the left
arm, hand and left leg. The two officers seemed less injured but one had a
damaged arm and the other a bullet wound in the leg. Jeremy said he would
look after any patients who appeared and Timmy and I packed a chest and
bags with all we thought we might need and, with Robin, were on the ten
o'clock train to London.
On the way Caleb recounted what he had heard of the trio's return from
the battlefield. In all, five had arrived late the night before. The
others were the batman to the two other officers and Mark Dawson who was
now George's batman. In fact, it would seem that Mark Dawson had been the
one to get all of them away from the battlefield and almost certain death.
Death: not from the skirmishing but from the fetid conditions in the camp
and the so-called hospital. Caleb said it was well-known amongst the
troops that most who were injured in any way were not likely to survive in
the poor conditions and the miasmas of the facilities which were pitiful
and scarcely available.
Somehow a message must have arrived at Charles Street by the railway
telegraph for a carriage was awaiting us at the railway terminus. There
were solemn faces as we arrived at the house. George's brother Geoffrey,
my brother Terence and Mr Topping were there with Jabez and Mehmet and
after doffing cloaks and drinking a welcome beaker of hot posset I said we
had better inspect the patients. Geoffrey, looking most stricken, took me
by the hand and said he trusted me to do my best. I said I would. He then
took Timmy's hand and whispered "You too, my friend". That endorsement was
a great encouragement to both of us.
As George was the most severely-injured Timmy and I went up to the
room where he was lying. Although Robin had accompanied us he remained
downstairs for we knew he had an aversion to the sight of blood and
injuries. When I saw George I wondered what we could do for him. He was
as white as a sheet and was grimy and stinking for we heard there had been
little in the way of medical assistance before or on the journey. He had
only a shirt and undervest on and had been wrapped in a blanket which was
blood-stained and looked to be infested with lice and, most probably,
fleas. Mark Dawson was by his side and though George was in a stupor Mark
was holding his right hand and speaking to him softly. He saw me and Timmy
and though he bowed his head in greeting I knew he was in charge. He
quickly said that George, or Master Lascelles as he called him, had been in
the forefront of a skirmish. His horse had been killed beneath him, a
lance to the throat which had been meant for George. As the horse stumbled
so another adversary had slashed at George's left side with a sabre. That
villain had then lost his head with a sabre cut from Mark who was riding
just behind George. Mark had managed to get George onto his own steed and
had ridden away from the battle. He had found the other two officers lying
injured and had told their batman, who he knew from the barracks, to get
them mounts and to follow.
I listened as he recounted this but was examining George's state while
he was speaking. I was then in charge. There were two young servants
standing near the window who were almost in tears at the sight. I stood on
one side of the bed with Mr Topping beside me and Mark, Terence and Jabez
on the other side. Timmy was unpacking the chest which we had filled with
boxes of surgical instruments and other paraphernalia as well as bottles of
all types of medicaments we had thought might be required. Geoffrey had
said he would wait below with Robin.
I said we should carefully lift George so the blanket could be
removed. He did not stir as we did this and the servants were instructed
to pull the blanket away as soon as we had uncovered him. They did this
swiftly and Mr Topping told them to take it downstairs and have it burned
immediately. I called after them and directed them to bring up pitchers of
hot water, washcloths and bowls as soon as possible. George needed to be
cleaned but what I saw both shocked and impressed me. Though his left arm
and hand as well as his left leg and foot were swathed in bloodied bandages
they had been placed neatly and tightly keeping whatever damage had been
done contained. Mr Topping said the physician the previous night had taken
one look at this and had said he was not prepared to do anything. He had
departed with a following oath and no fee!
I was not prepared to do anything either until George was washed. My
studies in Paris and Edinburgh, together with the essay on transmission of
cholera by Dr Snow in 1849 and the locking of the pump at Broad Street by
him recently, had convinced me that the theory of the spread of disease and
black rot in bodies was due to miasmas was not tenable. I was convinced,
contrary to many other physicians, that disease and rot were the result of
whatever might be carried in the dirt, in the water, or as particles in the
air, but not the smell. I was aware from my observations of the quality of
water under the microscope that where there was illness, such as excessive
diarrhoea in children, the water available had more organisms than in the
clear, purer water from countryside springs. I had also suggested at
Edinburgh that contagion might be carried by the bites of fleas for we knew
that a bite from a dog could result in death from rabies. This had
resulted in a retort by one over-grown but untalented, in my opinion,
student who had remarked he had never seen a flea as big as a dog! I did
not enlighten him that Herr Virchow in Berlin had recently studied the
effects that parasites might have on health.
I studied the bandages before the servants returned. I could see that
George had lost at least two outer fingers of his left hand. Mark Dawson
confirmed this and said the original bandages had been strips of shirts
which he had torn and wrapped round the injuries there and then on George's
leg and foot. I could see, however, the original bindings had been removed
and others most carefully placed. I could ask no more for the servants
returned and between us we washed George and I cut away his piss and
shit-stained underclout as well as the filthy shirt and vest with scissors
which Mr Topping had sent for. Two more pitchers of hot water had to be
brought up before I was satisfied. Timmy meanwhile had taken a flask of
pennyroyal and was rubbing a cloth dipped in it around the bedhead and foot
and also anointed George's chest and abdomen with the fluid for it was
useful in repelling fleas. We covered George's now naked body with a sheet
leaving his left arm and leg exposed. Poor George was little more than
skin and bone. Mark said he had had little more than gruel and soup with
added brandy on the journey because he was under the influence of the
laudanum to ease his pain and his stomach had rebelled against anything
else. Mark asserted that the rations in the camp before the battle had
been poor both for the officers and the men and there were many there
almost starving.
I realised that George was now less in a stupor as his eyes were
opening and shutting and he was trying to say something. I knew whatever I
did next would cause him great pain. Timmy had also seen this and without
asking handed me the mask and cloth to place over his nose and mouth for I
would administer a few drops of chloroform before I investigated his
injuries further. Timmy had stood beside me many times when I reset
fractures or had to remove a growth so was well-acquainted with the need
for a correct dosage of the vapour produced and a careful check of how the
patient was faring.
I then said that if anyone did not wish to witness what I intended to
do next they should leave the room or not look. Mr Topping told the
servants, who were no more than lads of sixteen or seventeen, that they
should stand outside the door but be ready for any instructions. I asked
Timmy for my medium shears from my surgeon's case and took up the bottle of
chloroform and dripped three drops onto the gauze of the mask and the pad
held in it. I took the shears and cut through the stiff, encrusted linen
binding his wounds. Thank goodness the flow of blood had been such to seal
the wound. I took a fresh cloth and swabbed away some of the congealed
gore with clean hot water from another bowl. Yes, George had lost his
outer two fingers and most of his hand to the wrist. I took a probe and
parted the flesh and saw the cuts had been made cleanly by a very sharp
sabre. As he had done before on many occasions Timmy passed me the bottle
of the weak carbolic solution which I always used to clean wounds. I had
noted that the swimming organisms in polluted water were quickly killed if
a solution of carbolic was dripped into the container. Once satisfied that
no dirt remained and though the wound had begun to seep blood with my
probing I bound it tight again with a clean linen bandage so that the
healing process could continue. If no infection from outside entered I was
most hopeful he would not lose his arm.
Timmy whispered that George was sleeping well but I asked him to put
three more drops on the pad before I investigated his leg and foot. There
were gasps as I cut away the bandages. His injuries here were more
extensive. His lower leg had been slashed and only his heel and a portion
of foot remained and his ankle was smashed. Again, the wound seemed clear
of any rot once I had swabbed away the congealed blood. I had to make a
decision. A decision which would be mine alone. I would have to remove
what was left of his foot. I was well aware of the way in which the foot
was hinged and had to rotate. This meant if I could take the part
remaining away by cutting through any tendons and vessels remaining there
would be a stump left which could be disguised and he would not be too
crippled. This was a test of my expertise. I went over to Timmy and said
what I intended to do. I said George would need to be well asleep while I
essayed this operation. "I will make sure he is," he said.
Again I cleaned the site further with the weak carbolic and warned
those who might be squeamish to look away. I took up three clamps in case
I cut into an artery or vein and would use these to stem the flow of blood.
My luck was in. My scalpel cut through the remaining tissue with little
blood which I stemmed with pads which I got an unmoved Mark Dawson to hold
against the wound. I had to use only one clamp and the cut-away foot was
wrapped in the bandage I had sheared off. That would be consigned to the
flames as well.
While any flow of blood was being stemmed I looked at the side of his
leg. Part of his calf muscle had been cleanly severed and other than using
the carbolic on it I thought it best to leave alone. I tied off the vessel
on his stump which was clamped and when Mark took his fingers off the pad
he was pressing on we found the flow there had stopped. I breathed a sigh
of relief. If no infection was evident after the nine or ten days since
the injuries had been inflicted I felt we had overcome most danger.
I left Mark to look over George and to see he was breathing once the
mask and pad had been removed from his face. I had given him two more
drops of chloroform and said to call if he noticed anything awry. Timmy
and I then went to the next room where the two brothers were lying side by
side. Both were awake though both looked haggard and were wincing. The
older one I found was Richard Lacey and he said his injury was not too bad.
His left arm was at a crooked angle across his chest and though bandaged I
surmised his elbow had been shattered. He was more concerned about his
brother, Francis. Francis had received a bullet in his right thigh and was
afeared his leg was useless. I said I would deal with him first.
Though Francis had been dosed with laudanum for the pain he was
somewhat frightened when I said I would put him to sleep while I dealt with
his injury. I had to get his batman and Jabez to hold him for he was
clearly afraid and struggled when Timmy tried to place the mask and pad
over his face. Four drops of chloroform and he was soon asleep. His
britches had been removed but he also required to be washed first. This
was done and as I cut through the bandage around his thigh I wondered if
the ball was still within the wound. I had not seen a wound like this
before. His flesh had been torn as the bullet had entered and the wound was
full of congealed blood. I pressed on his muscle and felt some hardness.
I had forceps in my surgeon's box so swabbed away the blood with my
carbolic solution and probed down and drew out a ball some quarter inch in
diameter. I dropped it with a clang into the lid of a pot which Timmy held
out to receive it. Richard Lacey had shut his eyes while I probed but now
was open-eyed. "God Almighty!" he blasphemed, "That bloody Russian
deserved the sabre in his guts for that!"
I did not wait to hear any more but said it was his turn as Timmy
padded and bandaged his brother's leg and told the batman to check for any
bleeding. The second brother was more docile when the mask was put over
his face. He needed a good application of the sleep-inducing liquid for,
in fact, his injury was more than he had realised. In short, I had to take
his lower arm off at the elbow for his hand showed evidence of blackness
and the red lines of creeping rot. I had only made two amputations like
this before, once when a bricklayer had fallen from scaffolding and crushed
his hand and wrist but delayed attending for his injury. The other was a
young boy who had caught his arm in a threshing machine and the hand and
lower arm had almost been severed before I was called to attend. Both of
these did not need the saw but the dissection out of the elbow joint. With
Richard it was a little more complicated. He would lose his lower arm and
as the injuries were below his elbow I could dissect around the joint and
the base of the humerus cutting through the attendant ligaments. I would
have to be careful because there were two arteries to clamp, the radial and
the ulnar coming from the brachial artery. As I probed I had noted the
base of the humerus, the capitellum, was somewhat splintered with some
fragments of bone detached. That would need my small saw to clean the
edges. I whispered to Timmy what I intended to do and he was ready with
all I needed. In case Richard stirred we dripped a couple more drops of
chloroform on the pad and I could see that his breathing was slow but deep.
I did the dissection and then quickly applied the saw as Timmy mopped away
the debris. I positioned a flap of skin and this was all tightly bandaged
after applying more of the carbolic solution. Again a severed limb was
bundled into the old bandages.
I will say the assistance of Jabez and Mr Topping was of great value,
for not only did they witness my dissections but helped in the staunching
of any blood and took away the severed parts. The staunching of blood is
not a sight, nor is the grating of the saw against bone a sound for
ordinary mortals! So, it transpired Richard Lacey's was the greater injury
and we could but hope the removal of his brother's ball - I mean the bullet
in his thigh - would relieve the loss of feeling in the rest of his leg.
I returned to George who was sleeping soundly. I explained to Mark he
would be in pain when he woke and gave him a wineglass with a good dose of
laudanum in it. When George woke he was to be allowed just a few sips and
should sleep as much as possible. I said both I and Timmy wished to wash
ourselves for our hands and arms were splashed with blood as were our grey
smocks we had taken to wearing when having to do acts of surgery. Again, I
could not rejoice in wearing the same blood-stained and stinking garments
as I had witnessed in some of the operating rooms I had attended as a
student. The serving lads were rather overawed at all that had happened
but were prompt in bringing more hot water and clean towels. We were soon
clean and I and Timmy were ready for some luncheon as our patients slept.
Geoffrey was in tears when I told him of his brother's injuries and
what we had done but I assured him it was required and I was hopeful of his
full recovery. "I could never thank you enough," he said as he took our
hands in his. "I had some premonition that George may not survive for the
news which had emerged from those battles did not bode well. He is here
and is alive, I am relieved by that."
Later that day we heard the full story of the journey back from the
battleground in the Crimea to the haven at Charles Street. It must be said
that the real heroes were Mark Dawson and the brothers' batman, William
Mott. Mark was hesitant to tell the tale at first for it might have seemed
a boast but from the beginning he had his wits and his military training to
take command. He did intimate that neither of the brothers had interests
other than hunting and shooting and were only in the regiment as their
father was aggrieved by their general idleness at home and in desperation
had bought them commissions. Mark also said they had proved to be obedient
even when he, a mere Corporal of Horse, had to instruct Cornets of Horse in
dealing with labourers, landlords of inns, captains and officers of
steamers and other conveyances and so on, whose cooperation or coercion was
required. Mark was, of course, much older than them, or George, so was
looked on as having the wisdom of years!
It was Mark who had saved George from certain death by killing his
attacker. He had carried George on his own steed the mile or so to where
their camp was. With the others also injured plans had to be made for
evacuation, for none were in a fit state for further military missions.
With two who could not walk Mark had dragooned six of the labourers who
were employed at the camp to carry George and Francis Lacey on their camp
beds to the quayside at Sevastopol which was quite some distance away.
I did not know but it was a common practice amongst the soldiers to
sew coins in the hems of their jackets or cloaks in case of emergency, to
bribe, or to pay ransom. George, being more canny than most, had made sure
he had a good number of gold coins thus secreted. Mark said George
maintained the weight helped his jacket to hang more neatly. However, the
six labourers were handsomely rewarded with a gold coin to share and went
off happily. "Grunting in some heathen tongue," as Mark said with a grin.
Near the quayside was the residence of a doctor. In fact he was Greek
but a gold coin was enough to salve his conscience and he was the one who
had bandaged the trio and had supplied sufficient laudanum to keep pain at
bay for most of the further journey. What was sighted next was almost like
a miracle.
At the quayside were numerous small boats which might have been
suitable to take the trio across the inland sea to the Bosphorus channel
and across the next inner sea to the Dardanelles and the Aegean Sea where a
larger boat might be hired for the journey across the Mediterranean to the
port of Marseille. The older Lacey, Richard, had said he had a map
somewhere which showed the route and he knew there was now a railway from
Marseille to, at least Paris. However, a most welcome sight was an English
steam-packet to which Mark Dawson went to gain help. A naval officer was
on the foredeck surveying the quay and the town through his telescope.
Mark Dawson recognised him for he had visited George and his brother
Geoffrey in London. It was an old school-fellow of ours, no other than
Lieutenant Cedric Branscombe!
I shook my head in amazement in hearing this about my dear friend and
the brother of Torquil's wife but Mark continued with his tale. With no
thought to propriety and rank he had hailed the officer. He was
recognised, too, as George's servant and within minutes sailors had lifted
the camp beds and their occupants onto the deck of the small vessel. It
was found they would be sailing as soon as despatches arrived from the
battle front where Lord Raglan was the commander. These had to be taken to
Marseille where they would be forwarded in code by telegraph and semaphore
stations to Paris then to Calais where a fast steam packet would convey the
decoded messages to London. However, as the methods of communication might
not be secure from listeners or others adept at reading the semaphore
signals there would be two midshipman or young army officers who would
carry locked boxes containing copies of the despatches and any other secret
messages on special trains from Marseille to Paris and then to another port
on the coast. Here a fast steam-packet would take the messengers and their
despatches to London. Riders came within the hour and the journey began.
Two lieutenants of a foot regiment carried the locked boxes and would make
all arrangements for they were under orders to convey the boxes to London
in safety.
As the ship was small and even though the weather was bad the only
place for the three wounded was under awnings on deck. As all three were
in pain their suffering was reduced by frequent doses of laudanum. The
journey through from the Black Sea to the Aegean, across the Mediterranean
Sea and up the coast of Italy was however swift and their arrival at
Marseille had been heralded by flag signals. There a private train was
ready to take the officers and the despatches on to Paris. The officers
were most concerned about the injured trio so there was little persuading
by Mark to be done so the wounded and their batmen were also taken in the
train to Paris. Mark did say that Lieutenant Branscombe made sure there
were no quibbles. Accordingly, with the best wishes of Cedric Branscombe
and his crew the next part of the journey began. Care of the three and
especially George was now critical. The train had to stop at times for the
engine to be changed and food and ale had to be purchased. Mark said the
ale was not of the quality in England so wine was more often their drink.
He said he had made sure the young officers were also well-supplied for he
had charge of George's coins for the jacket was little more than a rag and
had to be discarded. With that he held up a leather purse which still
looked fairly weighty and it jangled as he shook it!
On arrival in Paris, the despatches had to be conveyed with their
keepers to another terminus. Mark said he was ready to break the journey
there if George did not seem able to continue. Francis Lacey had good
command of French and had seen the College of Medicine on a visit he had
made to Paris on a previous occasion and was sure the three of them could
receive any treatment they needed at they renowned establishment. However,
though George was moving in and out of consciousness, he maintained he
wished to continue and to be treated by his friends Dr Thomas Browning and
Dr Timothy Turner. There was a carriage awaiting to take the officers and
their boxes to the other Parisian terminus to continue their journey. Two
more carriages were needed to carried the injured and all embarked at the
other terminus to continue the journey to the port of Boulogne. That stage
was soon accomplished and it was only left to make the sea journey across
La Manche. At Boulogne another naval steam-packet was ready and waiting
and this took them swiftly across and up the River Thames to the Pool of
London. Bidding a grateful farewell to the Navy and the officers who had
been most concerned over the invalids' welfare the final stage to Charles
Street was soon accomplished. This did cause a deal of consternation as it
was now near eleven o'clock at night! Decisions were quickly made, the
uncooperative physician was called and departed and we had then been
summoned the next morning. Glasses were raised to Mark Dawson and William
Mott at dinner that night for they joined us all with Lord Falconer now at
the head of the table instead of my late-lamented Uncle Digby.
There was a little amusement over the camp beds during a re-telling of
the tale for it was well-known that the late Duke of Wellington had slept
each night at Apsley House and at Walmer, where he died, on the camp bed
brought back to England after his battles with Napoleon. Geoffrey said his
brother preferred a softer bed than that but the camp bed would be
preserved as a reminder of that momentous journey.
Robin, Timmy and I stayed a full week until Timmy and I were satisfied
with the progress of our patients. George recovered remarkably quickly.
It must have been his iron constitution, he averred. I was sworn at - but
not with malice - for the removal of his foot. Though it was his left he
said it was his best foot for kicking a ball. Robin said in that case mine
were safe! The two Laceys recovered too. Richard was surprised when he
awoke to find his lower arm was missing. He did say he now matched Lord
Raglan who had lost an arm in battling Napoleon. However, I was more than
pleased with the outcome. I blessed those who had taught me to use
chloroform to rid pain while operating and hearing, while in Paris as a
student, that carbolic and other like substances might be efficacious in
preventing black rot. In my adoption of that regime I think I was a few
years ahead of the general use of that substance which was initiated
somewhat later with the work of Professor Lister in Edinburgh . We did
find a competent physician nearby, one of those who had examined Timmy and
Jeremy Mead for their Associateships, and he was placed in charge of the
trio when we left. He had been rather impressed with what I had done and
suggested for the maintenance of their progress so that we kept up a
correspondence and met each other on our visits to London until he retired.
He was instrumental in my gaining that Associateship as an adjunct to my
other qualifications.
There was nothing but praise from Geoffrey Lascelles and his father,
who arrived in London the day before we left. Lord Harford tried to press
a substantial sum of money on Timmy and me but we refused saying George was
a friend to both of us. We did accept a fee from the Lacey family. Sir
Bernard Lacey came post haste to his sons within two days of receiving the
news of their injuries. Whether the tales of great bravery which he heard
from them were true we would never know but he was now satisfied that his
idle sons had at last achieved something even if the evidence was a bullet
in a bottle and a slight limp and a missing limb! Both relinquished their
commissions and promised their father they would be reformed characters and
take over the management of some parts of his estate. It was theirs to
inherit some day! When my Uncle Billy heard of the way in which Mark
Dawson and William Mott had comported themselves he arranged for them to be
presented with a medal each for bravery and attention to duty. This
happened at a ceremony at the Queen's Palace with members of the regiment
mounted as escort for the pair. My uncle also made sure each received a
good pension for they had requested to be discharged from the regiment in
order to take up positions in the Lacey household or with George.
Of course, when Cedric Branscombe, in his best Lieutenant's uniform,
came next to visit us in Cambridge there was much celebration for his
assistance and the recovery of dear George whose frequent missives bemoaned
the lack of good company and any excitement in the wilds of Westmoreland!
Two major occurrences happened between that Christmastide and the one
at the end of 1856. The dog-loving Master of St Mark's breathed his last
in his turd-encrusted habitation after a particularly festive Gaudy in June
1856. Dr Quick, the Fellow in Medicine, became the next Master much to
everyone's delight. However, the greater occurrence was that George,
tiring of the tedium of Garthorpe, asked if he might take up residence near
us in Cambridge. Fortuitously we were able to purchase the house next to
ours on King's Parade and with a door or two between to allow easy access
our wounded hero, and his more than attentive comrade Mark Dawson, stumped
his way into our lives.
To be continued:
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