Crime, parks and royalty

**

The History Of The Royal College Of Surgeons**

On the 25th October, 1883, I had the misfortune to lose one of the best and kindest wives man ever had. In a memoir of her, written by her cousin, the late William Gorman Wills, poet, dramatist, and artist, he described her in the following terms:- “Lucie Cameron was not a ‘society’ woman; she shrank from publicity; she did not care to see her name on Committees or Subscription Lists, yet few in such circles as hers have succeeded in winning so many warm and devoted friends. She was equally popular with men and women. A lady who goes much into society said of her that she was almost the only lady concerning whom she had never heard an unkind word uttered.

“The reasons why Mrs. Cameron was so much beloved by all who knew her are simple enough. She never spoke unkindly of anyone; she never did unkind acts. Her friendships were not hastily formed, but they were enduring. Amongst mere acquaintances she was liked on account of the sweetness of her manner, her gentleness, and her amiable excuses for those made the subject of unfavourable comments. In addition to all this, there was something indescribable in her kind face and sweet voice which charmed everyone who conversed with her.

“Mrs. Cameron’s claims to be long and affectionately remembered rest, however, upon a better basis than charm of manner. She was a woman of the most active benevolence. It was only during her last illness and since her death that anything like the extent of her private charities became known. She never deserted friends because of their failing fortunes, and she never refused to assist those who appealed to her for help, pecuniary or otherwise.”

After the death of my wife, I did not go into society for a year, and only to a slight extent during the following two years. In those years I devoted all my time, free from professional work, in writing the history of the Royal College of Surgeons, and an account of Irish Medical Institutions, Literature, and Teachers. The work was finished in 1886, and the first copy of it presented to the Earl of Aberdeen, Lord Lieutenant, on the 27th May, 1886, on the occasion of his unveiling a statue of Professor Dense in the Royal College of Surgeons. I was President of the College at that time, and in the evening I gave a banquet, at which the Lord Lieutenant and about 200 others were present.

In collecting materials for the History of the College, some incidents occurred which I think are worth recording.

I intended to give a short biography of everyone who had been a President, Professor, Curator, or Secretary of the College. To get reliable information relative to those who were connected with the College in the 18th century and beginning of the 19th century was often very difficult. The documents in the Records Office, Four Courts, Parish Registries of births and deaths, old newspapers, &c., had to be examined.

Surgeon John Halahan, who was a member of the College from its foundation, was appointed its first Professor of Anatomy in the year 1786. In a curious, and now very rare, book, entitled “The March of the Physicians, Surgeons, and Apothecaries of Dublin to the Temple of Fame,” written by Dr. John Gilborne, and published in 1775, I found a short poetic description of Halahan:-

“John Halahan our just esteem deserves;

His curious art dead bodies long preserves

Entire and sound like monumental brass,

Embalm’d Aegyptian mummies they surpass

Surpass the labours of the famous Ruysch*

He does injections to perfection push.”

[* A famous Dutch anatomist.]

Now, I was anxious to discover a descendant of this man, who was famous in 1775, and was born in 1753; and, adopting my usual practice, I wrote for information to all the Halahans whose names appeared in the directories, hoping that some grandson or great-grandson would answer my letter. I was surprised to receive one from his own son. He proved to be the late Reverend Nicholas Halahan, Rector of St. Luke’s Protestant Church, Coombe, Dublin.

I visited the venerable cleric; and whilst I obtained some information about his father of which I was ignorant, I told him some things concerning the Professor which he had never heard of. He was delighted when I showed him the poetical eulogium on his father.

I noticed the portrait of a man, having one of his hands resting upon a skull, and in an attitude suggestive of giving a lecture or address. I suspected that it was the portrait of Halahan lecturing to the Hibernian Society of Artists, the predecessors of the Royal Hibernian Academicians, and my surmise proved correct. At my request Mr. Halahan promised to bequeath it to the Royal College of Surgeons.

At a proper interval after his death I called to see his granddaughter (who had kept house for him), and to claim the portrait of her great-grandfather. She said that the Rev. Mr. Halahan, of Enniskillen, had also claimed it as a family heirloom. I said that was nonsense, it could not be regarded as such.

Then I said to her that if I could get the boy she had referred to at my last visit a situation, would she consent to the picture going to the college. She promptly said she would, and in due time the portrait was placed in the college. When I saw Mr. Halahan he was 87 years old; his father had been born 134 years before that time (1886).

Captain Halahan, lately Adjutant of the 4th Battalion Dublin Fusiliers, is a descendant of Professor Halahan.

Surgeon John Timothy Kirby, founder of the Original School of Medicine, subsequently known as the Ledwich School, Peter street, was President of the College in 1823. The late Mr. John Baker, a well-known dentist in Clare Street, met me one day, and knowing that I was looking for information about Kirby (whom he knew), informed me that Kirby’s son, a retired naval chaplain, had taken a house in Northumberland Road.

On the same day I wrote to the reverend gentleman that I would call upon him at 10 o’clock next morning, and explained the object of my proposed visit. He received me most courteously, and gave me an autobiography of his father, detailing a long portion of his life. On the same day Mr. Kirby died from an attack of apoplexy Mr. Baker was astonished when he learned that I had got the desired information. The incident illustrated the advantage of prompt action.

Surgeon John Armstrong Garnett was President in 1810. I wrote to all the Garnetts, whose names and addresses I could discover, about the President, but none of them had even heard of him. Quite accidentally I heard that a Miss Colles, daughter of the Librarian of the Royal Dublin Society, had a grandfather whose name was Garnett.

I interviewed her, and found that her grandfather was the man who presided over the College in 1810. She gave me a diary which her father had kept whilst in medical charge of Lord Edward Fitzgerald when he was in Green Street Prison, and which had never been published. It proved to be an interesting diary, and contained information about the last days and death of Lord Edward hitherto unknown. I determined to put the whole diary into the History, from which it has since been several times copied into periodicals.

John Whiteway succeeded Samuel Croker King as second President of the College in 1786. The name is an uncommon one, and the few persons bearing it, including an official in Newfoundland, with whom I communicated, had never heard of President Whiteway. One night it suddenly occurred to me that I had met with the name whilst reading the Life of Dean Swift. The next day I got the Dean’s biography and read his will, learning therefrom that Whiteway was the son of Martha, the cousin and housekeeper of Dean Swift. This information to begin with, I was enabled to write a biography of Whiteway.

Although the collection of materials for my History of the College, with its 759 large pages, entailed great labour during three years, I felt quite fascinated with the work, and a feeling of loneliness came over me when it was completed.

At the request of the Council of the College, I intend to produce a second edition of this history. **

A Visit To The Claret Country**

I am indebted to the great firm of Messrs. W. & A. Gilbey for many pleasant days and many kindly acts. In 1886 I accepted an invitation to join their party and pay a visit to Loudenne, their historic chateau in the Medoc district, near Bordeaux - associated with the family of the great poet and writer, Chauteaubriand - to witness the vintage.

The party leaving London included the late Sir John Power and Lady Power (Co. Wexford), the Hon. Richard Bellew; Mr. (now Sir) Ernest Clarke, then Secretary of the Royal Agricultural Society of England, and several members of the firm with some ladies of their families. The great scientist, Dr. Dewar (now Sir James Dewar), and his wife joined us later on.

From the hour we left London until our return to that city the guests were not allowed to spend one penny. We were not permitted to give tips to servants, or even to stamp our letters.

Luxurious sleeping-cars conveyed us from Paris to Libourne, near Bordeaux, where we embarked on a steamer which conveyed us on the Rivers Dordogne and Gironde to Chateau Loudenne, where we spent three most pleasant weeks.

On our arrival there at once occurred to me the lines of Byron:-

“Sweet is the vintage when the showering grapes

In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth,

Purple and gushing: sweet are our escapes

From civic to rural mirth.”

We witnessed, first, the picturesque scene of the gathering of the grapes; then the grapes being pressed, neither by men nor women, but by the then recently invented machine called the “agrappoir,” which mechanically separates the stalks, thus modernising the method mentioned by Macaulay in his “Lays of Ancient Rome”:-

“And in the vats of Luna

This year the must will foam

Round the white feet of laughing girls,

Whose sires have marched for Rome.”

Then followed the fermentation of the juice, we examining it from day to day in the cuves as it progressed until it was by Nature’s own chemistry converted into wine.

We visited all the famous claret vineyards, especially those in which first growths are produced. The growths are graded according to the repute of quality, Chateau Lafite, Chateau Margaux, and Chateau Latour being the first growths of the Medoc; while Chateau Haut Brion, the only other of the first growths, lies outside the Medoc and quite close to Bordeaux in the Graves district.

There are four lower grades of classified “crus” all of great reputation, viz., the second, third, fourth, and fifth, numbering about 60, while there is an infinite variety of clarets unclassified among the bourgeois, artisan, and peasant proprietors, some of which in certain highly-favoured years rank with even the very best of the classified wines.

We all heard for the first time that the French Government had just awarded the coveted prize, the gold medal for the best cultivated vineyard, to Messrs. Gilbey for their Chateau Loudenne domain.

That magnificent river, the Garonne, 360 miles in length, effects a junction with another - the Dordogne – almost of as great length, and the united rivers form the wide river, or rather estuary, termed the Gironde. The largest department of France is named after the latter, which divides it from Charente Inferieure.

On the east it is bounded by the Department of the Dordogne, on the south-east by that of Lot-etGaronne, on the south by Landes, and on the west by the Bay of Biscay. It is almost a peninsula, and has a coast line running north and south nearly 75 miles in length. The area of the department is 3,761 square miles, with a population of nearly a million. The capital of the department is the handsome city of Bordeaux.

The country between this town and the sea chiefly comprises the district termed the Medoc, in which nearly all the claret produced in France is prepared. Below Bordeaux, the rich white wines - Sauterne, etc. - are produced.

The Medoc is a very flat country, chiefly composed of alluvial clays, but close to the Garonne and Gironde there are a series of shingly hillocks, which extend from Bordeaux to the sea. While in some places only a few yards in width, in other parts they extend inland from a quarter to two miles.. Their soil consists of sand, a large proportion of water-worn pebbles, and a small proportion of clay; in some places it is calcareous.

The great plains which extend to the dunes, or sandhills of the coast, produce good crops of Indian corn millet, and rye. The sandy and calcareous hillocks and reaches of slightly elevated land are almost wholly under the vine. In a less favoured climate they would be almost worth-less, as they are little better than sand hills; yet in the Medoc vineyards situated on them have been purchased at from £50 to £200 per acre.

The vine delights in light and warm soils and in bright sunlight; and these conditions are completely fulfilled in the claret country. The stones and sand store up the heat received during the day, and long after sunset the soil round the roots of the vine is found much warmer than adjacent low-lying rich alluvial clays. Steaming down the Garonne and Gironde from Bordeaux, one sees on the left bank of these rivers such world-famed places as Chateau Margaux and Chateau Lafite, in which the finest wines in the world, I hesitate not to say, are produced.

From Bordeaux to the sea, 70 miles in length, there is almost nothing to be seen in the way of crops save the vine. The finest claret is that which is obtained from the districts which lie within 40 miles of Bordeaux. In many places the vineyards extend in-wards a long way from the rivers, covering hundreds and even thousands of acres.

Perhaps no better proof can be given of the enormous quantity of grapes grown in the Medoc than the fact that it is only rarely a fence protects the vine-yard from the public road. Even in the vicinity of towns it is usual, in the vintage season, to see the roadsides fringed with bunches of delicious grapes. There seems to be less. temptation to the passer-by to pluck the clustering purple grapes than there is to the British waysider to pick blackberries from the roadside hedge.

When people talk of the adulteration of claret and other wines, they must be ignorant of the fact that there is no material so abundant or so cheap to prepare wine from as the grape.

I visited many of the celebrated wine-producing estates. On each there is a handsome chateau, generally richly furnished. As a rule they are owned by very wealthy persons-such as, for example, the Rothschilds, one of whom is the proprietor of the estate on which the well-known Mouton Claret is made. As much as £170,000 has been paid for a vineyard of no great extent. So well established is the character of the wine produced on certain estates in the Medoc that it is bought when quite fresh on the strength of its reputation. For example, the wine made at such a place as Chateau Lafite may be purchased when quite new at £50 per hogshead, whilst wine of older date, prepared on the property of a peasant proprietor may not realise £5 a hogs-head.

On examining the soils, elevation, and aspect of several of the most famous vineyards of the Medoc, I failed to discover in what way they differed from other, and what I may term commonplace, vineyards; and yet undoubtedly the wine which bears the brand Lafite or Palmer is intrinsically superior in flavour and odour to the ordinary claret.

Even when a chemical analysis is made of a claret sold at 84/- per dozen, and one purchased at 12/- per dozen, very little difference can be detected as to amounts of solids and alcohol. The alcohol, sugar, and extractive matter may be identical, and the only striking difference will be in the amount of free acid and of the fragrant ethers.

As to the preparation of the wine, there is little to distinguish the process used at Lafite from that employed by the peasant proprietors. The vines are grown in rows in the field, and as a rule are not more than four feet in height. The grapes are gathered chiefly by women and children, and brought by men on a cart drawn by oxen to the wine-house. Here, by means of a machine, the stalks are removed, but occasionally this operation is not performed. The grapes, more or less crushed, with or without stalks, are pressed into a vat, the lid of which is carefully closed - a tube, however, passing through it to permit the gases of fermentation to escape.

In a week or two the active fermentation is completed, and the “must,” as the liquid part is called, undergoes for a long time a slow fermentation. The floating masses of skins, stalks, and seeds are removed, mixed with water and a little sugar, and fermented; the produce is a low class wine, used only by the workpeople.

The wine produced in the Medoc is usually kept in wood for three years before it is bottled. The term “claret” is exclusively applied by the British to the red wines of the Gironde, but the French word *clairet *means any red wine. The word is derived from the Low Latin, *vinum claretum, *or wine clarified with honey. It was probably this wine which in the olden time was known in England under the name of *Hippocras. *Very little French red wine, save claret, is now consumed in the United Kingdom.

The peasantry of the Medoc seem to me to be a fine race; both men and women are well developed, and a large proportion of the women are very fat. So far as I could learn they are a healthy population, and rheumatism and gout are not so common as they are in the United Kingdom.

Bread and garlic are largely consumed, and everyone, young and old, drinks wine. Workpeople are paid partly in money, partly in kind, the allowance of wine being half a hogshead or more a year to each man. As claret is in such great demand in Great Britain, the United States, Belgium, etc., most of the best wines produced in the Medoc are exported to those countries, and the people in the Gironde largely use cheap imported wines.

There is a common notion that “cheap” claret differs greatly in strength from the higher priced varieties; this is an error. All clarets are “light,” that is, contain much less solid matter than Burgundy, port, and sherry; but I have met with a claret at 12/- per dozen which contained as much alcohol as a specimen of Lafite or Chateau Margaux. The differences between a cheap and a dear claret are chiefly in the points of acidity and flavour. The idea that cheap claret is generally adulterated is quite erroneous, for, as I have already stated, there is no cheaper material for wine-making than the grape itself. Clarets are sometimes mixed with each other, a thin one with a full-bodied kind, for example, but this blending is perfectly legitimate and desirable.

The very low duty on wines under 30 degrees of alcoholic strength places a very small tax upon the alcohol in them; whilst an enormous duty is levied on the alcohol in whiskey, gin, brandy, rum, and spirit of wine. As wine could be adulterated only with some kind of alcoholic liquid, how could it pay to sophisticate claret when the latter can be retailed pure at a shilling a bottle!

Claret contains about 10 per cent. of alcohol and 2 per cent. of solid matter. It includes a mere trace of sugar, which proves that its fermentation has been perfected - a dietetic point of great importance. The pleasant taste and flavour are chiefly due to its richness in certain ethereal principles, and volatile aromatic oils.

Its slightly rough but. piquant flavour, its fragrant odour, and its magnificent colour, account for the high estimation in which millions of people hold the wine of the Medoc. I can hardly realise the idea of a man becoming a drunkard through the use of claret. In the Gironde a drunken man is a phenomenon, and yet wine enters largely into the diet of all classes.

I wrote from Chateau Loudenne to the editor of the London “Times” a geological description of the soils of the wine-producing districts ‘of France, which he was good enough to publish.

During my three weeks’ sojourn in the Medoc the temperature hardly varied up or down from 70 degrees Fahr.

I did not see a single beggar or drunken person, and in the same number of middle-aged and elderly females I never saw so large a percentage of hugely proportioned women.

One sequence to this pleasant expedition was the marriage of the Hon. Richard Bellew to one of the two daughters of the late Mr. Henry Gilbey, soon after they had been at Chateau Loudenne. **

The Brothers Blyth**

Of the senior members of the firm who formed part of the company at the Chateau, three only now survive-Sir Walter Gilbey, Mr. Henry Grinling, and Lord Blyth.

The late Mr. Henry A. Blyth, one of the principal members of the firm of Messrs. W. & A. Gilbey, I knew intimately for half a century. He was one of the most charitable and generous of men, and his benefactions were very numerous. Presiding once at a Masonic dinner in Dublin, he insisted on providing the wines (which were of rare quality) and gigantic cigars for the company, numbering nearly 200. It is usual at Masonic dinners to make a collection for Masonic charities, the brethren contributing sums varying usually from sixpence to a sovereign. When the collection plate was put before Mr. Blyth lie put a cheque for two hundred guineas upon it.

Mr. Blyth and his brother, Lord Blyth, married two Dublin ladies, the daughters of the late Mr. W Mooney, of Clontarf. One died some years ago; the other, Mrs. Henry Blyth, is still with us, and happily enjoys the best of health.

I have spent dozens of pleasant days in the homes of those brothers in town and at their country places in Essex. There are no residents in London who have given more brilliant entertainments. For many years the Tate Mr. Henry Blyth gave a large dinner party on the eve of the greatest Epsom race. At those “Derby” dinners many distinguished persons were present. I was at a great number of them, and on the day following the Derby dinner I generally accompanied my host to see the Derby run. The late Sir William Kaye, C.B., Assistant Under-Secretary, and the late Mr. Maurice Brooks, of Dublin, attended several of those dinners.

Lord Blyth has contributed largely to the improvement of many industries, especially those relating to agriculture and viticulture. He has received numerous foreign decorations. His dinners at 33 Portland Place are not likely to be forgotten by those who, like myself, were privileged to attend them. They included on many occasions both the late King Edward and King George before their accession to the throne

On one memorable occasion, namely, the year of the death of Queen Victoria, when the usual Royal Academy banquet had to be abandoned, Lord Blyth was asked to replace it by entertaining the President, Academicians, and Associates at dinner to meet the Duke of Cambridge and distinguished guests of the art world.

On the important occasion of the meeting of the Tuberculosis Congress in London, in July, 1901, Lord Blyth, as honorary treasurer, entertained at dinner many of the distinguished British and foreign representatives of medical science.

As far back as 22nd September, 1894, Lord Blyth enter tamed the British Dairy Farmers’ Association and their President, the Earl of Cork, at his beautiful house and grounds, Blythwood, Essex. The luncheon given on the occasion was upon an enormous scale, the principal marquee containing 700 persons. There were many distinguished people present, including several noble personages. It was marvellous how a luncheon, chiefly hot, could be served to such a number! - but the great firm of Spiers & Pond, caterers, were equal to the occasion. The toast of “The British Dairy Farmers’ Association” was proposed by Sir Walter Gilbey, Bart., in very happy terms, and, according to the “Herts and Essex Observer,” I made the following observations:

“Sir Charles Cameron, of Dublin, who was asked to speak in support of the toast, having referred in fitting terms to his long friendship with Sir Walter Gilbey, said the toast was one which their host had deemed of sufficient importance to ask at least two persons to propose it. He took it that Sir Walter had dealt with what might be called the temporal affairs of the Association, and he supposed he would, as a medical man, have to say something as regards their sanitary condition, whilst, no doubt, some eloquent divine who had not yet turned up, had been asked to say something on a matter they wanted more talking about - namely, their spiritual condition. (Loud laughter.)

“He had taken pains to study the physiognomies of the Association, and he ventured to say their sanitary condition must be excellent (laughter) - and that local medicos in their respective districts made very little out of them. (Laughter.) The caterer told aim that whenever he catered for the Association he was obliged to add 50 per cent to his contract owing to their enormous capabilities of disposing of agricultural produce. (Laughter.)

“Their worthy host had asked him to restrict his observations to three minutes, and yet told him to say all he could about Irish agriculture. Ninety seconds had already elapsed, and the destinies of Ireland were entrusted to him to bring before that great meeting in a period of another 90 seconds. (Laughter.) None one felt more kindly towards his country than their excellent host, but he would mention that that short space of time is another injustice to Ireland. (Loud laughter.)

“With regard to Ireland, the first thing he would say was that he thought Irishmen ought to be very much indebted, not only to their worthy host, but also to the nobleman who represented in his (the speaker’s) country their most gracious and beloved Sovereign. (Applause.) Their host and the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland [Baron Haughton, now Marquis of Crewe] had joined together in paying the expenses of a large number of delegates from Ireland - selected gentlemen – to come over to hear and see all that was instructive, so that they would be able to do good in that country in improving the dairy industry.

“Ireland had long been celebrated for its bulls (laughter), and they wished now to attain an equal degree of celebrity with reference to their cows. (Applause.) He regretted to say that there was still a great deal to be improved in Ireland with respect to the dairying husbandry. They had in Ireland the best breeds of cattle for the production of meat, but there was a singular deficiency in the cultivation of breeds which produced the milk richest in fats.

“Therefore, in Ireland he would be glad to see the example followed which their host had shown them in having the very best meat producing animals and the best animals for the production of butter. A great deal of the butter now produced in Ireland was made in a better way than formerly, and that he largely attributed to the existence of creameries in Ireland. He looked upon that as a sign of the prosperity of dairy farming in Ireland - the establishment of nearly 250 creameries. [[No one has done more to improve the dairy husbandry in Ireland than the Right Honourable Sir Horace C. Plunkett, K.C.V.O., F.R.S.]] He thanked their host for his magnificent entertainment, and suggested that the Association should make him their perpetual President. (Applause.)”

“Sir Chas. Cameron, replying to the toast of the B.D.F. Association, proposed by Sir W. Gilbey, was received with storms of applause from beginning to end of his speech, which was characterized by a vein of happy humour possible only to an inhabitant of the Emerald Isle.” - “Farmers’ Gazette,” 29th September, 1894. **

An Abortive Attempt To Defraud Me.**

In 1890 I received one morning a letter from a London barrister, with whom I was not acquainted, informing me that a young man appeared to be personating a son of mine. This young man called on the writer of the letter, and, representing himself to be my son, requested a loan to enable him to get to Dublin. He said that he had been on the Continent, and that his funds were exhausted. The gentleman gave him a shilling, and told him to telegraph to his father, asking him to telegraph to him (the gentleman) a request to lend his son money. As the young man did not return, he concluded that he was an impostor.

Immediately after getting this letter, a telegram was received, requesting me to send to my son, who was in London, a telegraphic money order for £3. The telegram came from Euston Post Office. Suspecting that the telegram was from the impostor, I put the matter into the hands of the police. The London police were informed by telegraph of the suspicious case, and accordingly two detectives were in the Post Office waiting for the arrival of my son or his personator. A young man applied for the telegram, but as his appearance did not correspond to the description of my son which the detectives possessed, he was arrested and brought to the police station.

Meantime, my son was found in the Euston Hotel, and he proved that the prisoner was an impostor. It appears that my son had played a game of billiards with him in Euston Hotel, and that the prisoner had elicited from him who his father was. The case came before the Police Court, and was sent on to the Sessions. Conviction followed, and the prisoner was sentenced to three months’ imprisonment. It transpired that he had obtained several sums of money from persons to whom he represented himself as my son, temporarily out of pocket.

He was the son of an organist, and, I am informed, was apparently well educated. He was a tall young man, with reddish hair.

A kinsman of mine, Professor Howard Irvine Cameron, M.D., of the University of Toronto, happened to be in the Great Western Hotel at the time of the above-described occurrence. A tall young man who was in the hotel accosted him, enquiring was he a son of Sir Charles Cameron, of Dublin. He replied that he was the son of Sir Matthew Cameron, of Toronto. This was the same man who tried to swindle me.

Professor Cameron occupies the unique position of being an Honorary Fellow of the three Royal Colleges of Surgeons of the United Kingdom. **

An Attempt To Rob Me, Wednesday, 25th July, 1894.**

I spent a pleasant few days as the guest, not for the first or last time, of Professor William R. Smith, M.D., B. L., J.P., and his charming daughter, at 74 Great Russell Street, London. My fellow-guests were the Very Reverend T. Cameron Lees, D.D., C.V.O., Dean of the Thistle, and a great favourite of Queen Victoria; and Professor Sir Henry D. Littlejohn, M.D., LL.D., lately Medical Officer of Health for Edinburgh, a gentleman renowned for his kindness and humour. Returning one night from a conversazione in King’s College, the Dean and Professor Smith proceeded up Drury Lane, and I followed in the company of an Irish engineer who had been at the conversazione. Sir Henry D. Littlejohn had left the King’s College an hour or so earlier.

When we had made some progress up the lane, and arrived at a spot immediately opposite the place where the famous Nell Gwynne was born, two men jostled us. The engineer was on my right side and next the street. His watch was snatched from him, and the thief ran off. I clapped my left hand over my watch chain, and so defeated the object of the second man, to whom I gave a shove which sent him reeling into the street, whereupon he, too, ran off.

The engineer was a fat man, nevertheless he gave pursuit. His hat fell off and revealed a bald head. I joined in the pursuit, receiving cheers and encouragement from the denizens of the lane, and ultimately the thief was captured by a constable. We proceeded in triumph to the Bow Street Police Station, where the charge was made against the prisoner, and he was detained in durance vile.

My two friends, being well in advance, had not noticed the incident I have related, and searched for some time for us, and then proceeded to Great Russell Street. There they found Sir Henry seated upon the doorstep and looking very disconsolate. The servants had retired to bed-naturally believing that the house party would be in possession of the latchkey (but, unfortunately, Sir Henry Littlejohn had left the College before the rest of the party), and were in a part of the house in which the noise of rapper or bell was inaudible. **

Lord Ardilaun And St. Stephen’s Green Park.**

St. Stephen’s Green was only available to the inhabitants of the houses which surrounded it up to 1879. In that year it was made a Royal park, and taken in charge by the Board of Works. The Corporation of Dublin gave up their right to derive a small rent from it.

The great expense of converting the dreary stretches of grass in St. Stephen’s Green into a beautiful park was provided by Lord Ardilaun. For 11 years there was no tablet or inscription indicating to whose princely generosity the citizens owed this magnificent gift. It occurred to me that it was only necessary to direct attention to this omission, and to the inference of public ingratitude to which it led, in order to raise a fund for the purpose of placing within the park a memorial of its generous donor. I enquired from Lord Ardilaun whether or not he would object to such a proposal. He replied that although he had never thought of anything of the kind, yet if there was a general desire to place a memorial of him in the park, it would naturally be gratifying to him and Lady Ardilaun.

At the time (1890), Mr. E. D. Gray was an influential man, a member of the Corporation, and the proprietor of the “Freeman’s Journal.” He approved of my proposal to place in St. Stephen’s Green Park a memorial in honour of Lord Ardilaun, and said that he would have a leading article on the subject in the “Freeman’s Journal.” However, he changed his mind soon after, and suggested that the project should stand over for a while. This was because political feeling ran high at the time, Lord Ardilaun’s brother, Sir E. C. Guinness, being Conservative candidate for Parliamentary representation of Dublin.

The matter remained in abeyance for some time; but then, in 1891, the Right Honourable Alderman Meade became Lord Mayor, I brought it under his notice and secured his co-operation. A meeting was held in the house of my old friend and colleague, the late Dr. Edward Hamilton, Stephen’s Green, to inaugurate the movement.

I sent out a large number of invitations, to which there was a very good response. A committee, with the Lord Mayor as chairman, was formed, and I became the acting honorary secretary. My proposal was that the memorial should take the form of a handsome gateway, similar to that which has since been erected at the Grafton Street entrance to the park, a statue of Lord Ardilaun or a bust of heroic size to be placed over the gate. This proposal met with much support, but ultimately it was decided to erect a statue of his Lordship in the park facing the Royal College of Surgeons. It is the work of the late Sir Thomas Farrell, President of the Royal Hibernian Academy, and is considered to be one of his best productions.

Although Lord Ardilaun was, and is, a Conservative, the working classes, nearly all Nationalists, showed great enthusiasm in reference to the honour proposed to be paid to him. Books of subscription forms were widely circulated amongst the trade unions, and thousands of shillings and sixpences were subscribed by the working men.

On May 7th, 1891, the foundation-stone of the Ardilaun Monument was laid by Alderman Meade, Lord Mayor. There was a great procession of trades unions and their bands to the scene of the function, on the west side of St. Stephen’s Green Park. Speeches appropriate to the occasion were made, and great enthusiasm displayed.

On the evening of the same day a banquet was held in honour of the event in the great hall of the Antient Concert Rooms. The Lord Mayor presided, and there was present a numerous and distinguished company. Many ladies were in the gallery, and it was noticed that Lady Ardilaun was much affected by the numerous complimentary references to her husband made by the various speakers.

On the 18th June, 1901, Lord Ardilaun’s statue was unveiled by the Lord Mayor in presence of an enthusiastic and appreciative assembly, and was taken into charge by the Chairman of the Board of Works, the late General Sankey. **

The Father Mathew Statue.**

In 1893 a statue of the celebrated “Apostle of Temperance,” Father Mathew, was unveiled in Upper Sackville Street. The Catholic Archbishop of Dublin was unable to be present at the ceremony, but his place was taken by the Protestant Archbishop, the late Lord Plunket - a broad-minded, just man, deservedly popular even with those not belonging to his own communion. The Corporation, with great willingness, granted a site in Kildare Place for his statue.

Sackville Street was crowded with sightseers, and there were several bands present. They created much amusement by the variety of airs which they played at the same time, some slow, some fast. It was remarked that unusually large numbers of inebriates were seen that day in Dublin.

Although I am not a teetotaller, I found myself one of the honorary secretaries of the committee of the fund subscribed for the erection of the statue. Sir Robert Jackson, C.B., who is not a teetotaller, was an honorary treasurer. I was asked to put up a couple of visitors from England, and I selected Sir Wilfred Lawson, Bart., M.P., and Sir Benjamin Ward Richardson, M.D., F.R.S.

Sir Wilfred had a great reputation as a humorist, and was known as the jester of the House of Commons. Sir Benjamin was a sanitarian and the author of a book, “The City of Hygiene.” He also wrote a novel. I gave a dinner party on the day of the unveiling of the statue, and amongst those who accepted my invitation were Sir George Owens, Sir Robert Jackson, and Monsignor Nugent, who had come over from Liverpool for the function.

I had some labels prepared to put on vessels containing non-alcoholic beverages corresponding to labels sometimes attached to bottles or decanters containing wires, etc. I labelled the lemonade “1862,” zoedone “1870,” apolinaris “1868,” and so on. The water carafe I labelled “Vartry water,” giving the day and hour of the dinner. All this greatly amused Sir Wilfred.

As I knew Sir George Owens and Sir Robert Jackson would not enjoy a strictly teetotal dinner, I had a bottle that had contained zoedone (a cordial then in use) filled with Madeira, and gave directions to my butler to help only the two knights out of that particular bottle. Sir George’s grave face assumed a cheerful aspect when he found his zoedone was a very different beverage. Next morning Sir Wilfred said to Sir Benjamin that it was very nice of me not to have any form of alcohol at the dinner, although I was not a teetotaller.

My servants having expressed a wish to have Monsignor Nugent’s benediction, I readily acquiesced. They assembled in the hall, and he not only gave them his benediction, but administered to them the teetotal pledge, which they did not like to refuse to take. I believe the women kept it, but the man did not, as he thought his promise had been unfairly extracted from him. **

An Oyster Patti**

One day, long ago, I met the late Father Healy, parish priest of Bray, and a celebrated wit. I said that I was about. to send him an invitation to meet his and my friends, the Blyths, [The present Lord Blyth and the late Mr. Henry Arthur Blyth.] at dinner in my house. He said he would accept the invitation if I did not intend to invite Dr. Fitzpatrick (the author of many biographical and other works, with whom I If was intimate). I replied that I did not, and he then accepted my invitation.

I enquired why he did not like to meet Dr. Fitzpatrick, and he said that it was because he was afraid that if he predeceased him the doctor would write his biography. In about a year after this conversation Father Healy’s interesting life came to an end, but he will long be remembered as one of the Irish celebrities of the 19th century.

A few days after his death Dr. Fitzpatrick called upon me and informed me that he was about to write a. biography of Father Healy, and would be pleased if I could tell him any anecdotes of him from personal knowledge. I felt much inclined to mention Father Healy’s apprehension of the biography he proposed to write, but I refrained from doing so, as I thought he would not like to know of it. I said that. although I had met Father Healy at dinner dozens of times, I could not recall any anecdotes of him which could be put into print.

Father Healy was a most amusing man, and often “set the table in a roar;” but unless one were actually present and understood the *raison d’etre *of his humour, he would not appreciate it if he saw it recorded in cold print.

The late Mr. Maurice Brooks, who frequently met Father Healy at dinner, told me that his answer to Dr. Fitzpatrick’s enquiries was similar to mine. The late Mr. Fry, Treasurer to the Corporation, agreed with Mr. Brooks. He, too, was a frequent host of Father Healy’s.

In due course Dr. Fitzpatrick’s biography appeared, but I think it did not give a good narrative of the life of the celebrated ecclesiastic, an admired friend of many distinguished people, such as the late Duke of Cambridge, the late Marquis of Salisbury, etc.

Shortly after the publication of Father Healy’s biography I had the pleasure of being a guest of the Duke and Duchess of Abercorn, at Baronscourt, County of Tyrone. One day at dinner another guest, Major-General Stewart, of the County of Donegal, who had recently returned from London, remarked that a good joke of Father Healy’s appeared in several of the London newspapers, extracted from Dr. Fitzpatrick’s biography of that gifted cleric.

It was that whilst Father Healy was lunching at Corless’ Restaurant, Dublin, well known for the excellence of the oysters dispensed in it, the proprietor showed him a telegram from his daughter announcing that she had won a vocal scholarship. Thereupon Father Healy exclaimed, “Bravo! We shall now have a real oyster Patti.” On hearing this, the Duke exclaimed, “It was Cameron who said that when he and I were lunching at Corless’.” I had no recollection of the incident, but on returning to Dublin I asked Mr. Corless did he remember it, and he confirmed the Duke’s assertion. Corless’ Restaurant is now known as Jammet’s.

The following is a *facsimile *of one of the many letters which I received from Father Healy, and in which he refers to my attempts to persuade Mr. O’Reilly Dease not to leave his money to help to reduce the National Debt. I refer to Mr. Dease in another place:- **

King Edward VII. In Dublin Slums.**

In 1885 the Prince of Wales, afterwards King Edward VII*., *visited Dublin in his capacity of Chairman of the Commission relating to the dwellings of the working classes. He was accompanied by the Princess of Wales and the Duke of Clarence.

I suggested to Earl Spencer, Lord Lieutenant at the time, that as the Prince of Wales had visited many model dwellings for the working classes, he ought to see some of the wretched dwellings in which the poor lived and which it was desirable should be replaced by healthy abodes.

The proposal met with some opposition from the Prince’s *entourage, *but ultimately it was agreed that he would visit the slums, but strictly *incognito. *At 11 o’clock one morning, the Prince, the Duke of Clarence, and Sir Dighton Probyn, Comptroller, left Dublin Castle in a plain carriage to visit, under my guidance, slums, and also the model dwellings erected at the expense of Sir Edward Cecil Guinness (now Viscount Iveagh).

We went to Golden Lane, which was not far off. Just as we stopped at a large tenement house a woman discharged into the channel course a quantity of water in which cabbage had been boiled and which contained fragments of leaves. In getting out of the carriage the Duke of Clarence unfortunately stepped into this fluid, slipped, and fell.

He was much startled, and his coat and one glove were soiled. We wiped him with handkerchiefs, and Sir Dighton, a man of almost gigantic stature, took off a light overcoat and invested the Duke with it. As the Duke was of moderate height, the coat reached nearly to his feet.

On entering the large yard of the tenement house, a ragged boy familiarly took the Prince by the arm and enquired what he was looking for. The Prince took all this, including the Duke’s *contretemps, *with great good humour, and in visiting the rooms he left something behind him which delighted its recipients.

At this time there was great political excitement in Ireland, and the Fenian movement was going on. Many people were under the impression that the Prince’s life would not be safe in a Dublin purlieu. I held a contrary opinion. I knew that the Prince, if recognised, would be well received, for the poorer classes in Dublin have generous instincts and would respect any visitor who with kind intentions would come amongst them. It soon leaked out (was I responsible for it?) that the Prince of Wales was in Golden Lane, and an immense crowd assembled within a few minutes.

I never witnessed greater enthusiasm than was exhibited by those poor denizens of a slum. Many of them shook hands with the two Princes, and all cheered loudly. We were followed for a long way by the younger members of the crowd. We subsequently visited Rialto dwellings for the working classes, erected by Sir Edward Cecil Guinness (now Viscount Iveagh), to whom I had previously written requesting him to meet the Prince.

The London “Times” had a leading article on what it termed the Prince’s levee in the slums, which, it declared, was of great importance. Unfortunately, some Conservative newspapers made political capital out of it, arguing from it that it showed how loyal the Irish people were and contented under existing political conditions. It was probably those articles that gave rise to an unpleasant incident which occurred at Mallow, whilst the Prince and Princess were on their way to Cork. Some of the illustrated papers sent their artists to the house at Golden Lane which the Prince entered first, and gave various illustrations of the scene, which they did not witness.

After a quarter of a century, I had again the opportunity of showing the Prince, who had in the meantime become King, Dublin workingmen’s dwellings. They were those erected by the Corporation in Bride Street. On entering the first of the two-room tenements we saw pictures of the King and Queen on the wall. I said to the King, “There is the portrait of their temporal sovereign; now I shall show your Majesty the picture of their spiritual sovereign.” We went into the bedroom, where the portrait of the late Pope Pius the Ninth graced the wall. The King looked earnestly at it, and exclaimed, “He received me very kindly.”

I had the honour of meeting the late King Edward on several occasions, exclusive of levees and receptions. He was very affable, and more easy to converse with than many of the *nouveau riche *are. I had a short conversation with him once at a dinner party given by the late Sir Edward Clark, President of the English Royal College of Physicians. I reminded him of his visit to the Dublin slums, and asked him when he intended to visit Dublin again. He said that he always liked to visit it, as there was no place in which he was better received. Then I said, “But, sir, when may we expect you again?” He laughed, and said that he could not say when it might happen.

The “London Daily Telegraph,” July 24th, 1904, described the King’s visit as follows:- **

“The King and Queen in Ireland. His Majesty among the Poor and Lowly.**

“Then His Majesty walked down Ross Road, where he was taken by Sir Charles Cameron, Superintendent Medical Officer of Health, to see a block of reconstructed buildings. The moral of this visit was that reconstruction is an expensive and unsatisfactory process, and that it is better to pull down and rebuild. Along Werburgh Street the narrow pavement just permitted His Majesty and Sir Charles Cameron to walk side by side. In their wake came Mr. Wyndham and Lord Dudley, otherwise His Majesty was quite unprotected. The poor folks of the neighbourhood crowded along the path, cheering continuously. The children, too - the little, bare-legged, hatless, and unwashed children, who never hoped to see a real live King pass by their gutter playground - joined in the demonstration; while from windows and doorways men and women shouted a chorus of ‘Good luck to ye.’ As for the King, his smiling face told unmistakably how much he sympathised with what he saw and how delighted he was with his reception by some of the poorest of his subjects.” **

A Gathering Of The Clan Cameron**

There are several associations formed by members of the Scottish clans, amongst others the Clan Cameron Association, of which Lochiel is the chief. In January, 1892, I presided, in the absence of the chief, and at his request, at a gathering of the association in Glasgow. I arrived in that big city barely in time to don my Highland costume before proceeding to the gathering. There were speeches extolling the glorious deeds of the clan, [In the rising in 1745 a small party of the clan cauptured the City of Edinburgh], songs in Gaelic, and an address from myself.

Amongst others who took part in the proceedings was Dr. Charles Cameron, M.P. for the College Division of Glasgow. He, like myself, was born in Dublin, but we are sons of Scotch fathers. Since we became members of the medical profession we have constantly been mistaken for each other, and he has always termed me his *alter *ego, or other self, and I have always addressed him as my alter ego.

Dr. Cameron referred in a humorous way to this confounding of the two Dr. Charles Camerons. He said that we both, when in London, stayed at Morley’s Hotel, and letters intended for him and addressed to the hotel were frequently opened by me. “I did not care,” he said, “whether he read them or not, for their contents were always such that anyone might have perused them; but when, on the contrary, I opened his letters, the case was very different!” This sally, of course, made the audience laugh at my expense. He continued “We agreed that one of us should put up at some other hotel, but there he had the advantage of me, for it was I who had to leave Morley’s Hotel. Notwithstanding this arrangement, people continued to mistake us; so we agreed that one of us should get a title. Here again he won, for he was made a knight, and I have got no title.”

After the speeches there was a ball, and about 3 o’clock a.m. several of us returned to the Central Hotel. As I had hastily dressed and had not fully taken my bearings on my arrival at the hotel, I could not at first remember where my room was. A little party escorted me whilst we were searching for it. An ardent Cameron, P. Cameron, known, according to the Scotch custom, as Corrychoillie, from his estate, was one of my escort. He had his own piper with him, and there were also in our procession the pipe-major and two other pipers of the Cameron Highlanders, who had come from Edinburgh to take part in the function.

Suddenly, Corrychoillie directed the pipers to play the “March of the Cameron Men.” It is easy to imagine the effect which the loud notes of the pibrochs produced on the sleepers. Many doors were opened and heads thrust out, amongst others that of the late Sir William Thompson, M.D., of Dublin, who was staying in the hotel. He told me afterwards that he was astonished to see me, attired in full Highland costume, slowly walking along a corridor, followed by Highland soldiers performing on the bagpipes. Some of the comments made next morning by the sojourners in the hotel were not complimentary to the Clan Cameron.

Seven years after the Clan Cameron meeting I was made a “Companion of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath,” and in the following year my alter ego was created a baronet in recognition of his valuable services to the State. Of course, I wrote to congratulate him, and to point out that during eight years we were easily discriminated from each other, for whilst he was Doctor Charles I was Sir Charles. In reply to my congratulations, I received the following letter, which subsequently appeared in a large number of newspapers on both sides of the Channel:-

“My *alter ego, *you say true,

How shall I know myself from you?

Perplexed to verge of mind paralysis,

Let us fall back on an analysis.

Though you have changed the old notation, *

I still can work out an equation;

C A C you; C C am I,

We’ll get the equation by and by;

Oh, thrice O plus Ca, plus C,

Should work out Ca CO3,.**

*He studied chemistry under the late Professor Apjohn, in Trinity College. Professor Apjohn did not adopt in his lectures the new chemical notation, which, for example, changed the term “carbonate of lime” into “calcium carbonate.” I at once adopted the new notation in my lectures in the medical schools.

** Calcium carbonate.

In my case add the O four times,

To suit requirement of rhymes,

Twice C plus four times O, that’s true,

Equals, of course, twice CO2 *

And why it makes one ‘thick of spache.’

• Carbonic acid.

Your strong C2, H5, OH, *

Which only suits my temper placid,

In water and carbonic acid.

These differences set down at random,

Exist - quod erat demonstrandum.

For, *alter ego, *clansman, brother,

If you’re a chemist, I’m another.”

• Alcohol.

Soon after my admission to the Order of the Bath, my *alter ego *sent me a threatening letter, of which the following is an accurate copy:-

“Balciutha, Greenock,

23rd September, 1899.

My Dear Alter Ego,

You have been hardly absent from my thoughts for one hour during the past week, so much so that I am beginning to doubt which of us is which. And so, apparently, does the editor of ‘Who’s Who,’ for in a proof of the paragraph supposed to be devoted to myself he puts me down as ‘C.B., 1899.’ As the Secretary of the Royal Institution does the same thing, I am more convinced than ever that that C.B. was intended for me. Please, therefore, to send over the decoration by return of post, and save me the pain of instituting criminal proceedings against a clansman. You will, I am sure, the more readily comply with my request when I mention that I am sending you a piece of property which has come to me, but which, I believe, has been meant for you, namely, Corbyn’s and Stewart’s ‘Physics and Chemistry,’ price 6/-, which has been sent to me by Messrs. Churchill, with a request that I should mend it to my classes. They make me a professor, too, but I am content to forego that honour if you will give me back my C.B.

Seriously, I see nothing for it but either to go into partnership under the title of Sir Charles Cameron, Unlimited, duplicate the badge, and use the honour con-jointly, or toss up which of us shall change our name.

By the way, have you sprained your ankles lately? I believed I had, and suffered accordingly, but now I am beginning to doubt whether it may not have been you. Meanwhile expect the ‘Physics,’ and return the badge, and

Believe me, yours ever,

(the real) CHARLES CAMERON. Sir Charles A. Cameron, C.B., M.D.”

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