Claude Garton: a story of Dunburgh University

Front matter

BY THE SAME AUTHOR. Price 2/6 net. THE AWFUL AND ETHICAL ALLEGORY OF DEUTERONOMY SMITH. Illustrated by over 100 Sketches. Words only— Student's Edition — Price 3D. H Storp of Dunburgh University. BY THOMAS J. HENRY, F.R.C.S.E., Author of " Deuteronomy Smith" EDINBURGH: E. & S. LIVINGSTONE. 1897. PRINTED BY E. & S. LIVINGSTONE, 4 MELBOURNE PLACE, EDINBURGH. TO MY DEAR WIFE, ©Ijts \Baok IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. CONTENTS. n__PI_K _._,, I. A Future Doctor, ..... 5 II. The Session Opens, ..... 15 III. The Dissecting Room, . . . . .28 IV. A Students' Symposium, .... 48 V. Vacation Doings, . . . . .58 VI. An Academical Campaign, .... 73 VII. The Rectop.ial Election, . . . .84 VIII. A "Dark" Secret, ..... 95 IX. A Study in Medical Jurisprudence, . . .106 X. A Delicate Mission, .... 119 XI. An Agreeable Surprise, . . . .132 XII.

A University Star,. .... 143 XIII. A Day of Rest, . . . . . .155 XIV. Gipsy! 173 XV. A Professional Examination, .... 194 XVI. The Setting of a Star. .... 205 XVII. Claude's Dilemma, ..... 217 XVIII. A Graduation Festival, .... 225 XIX. A Glimpse of Practice, .... 239 XX. The Mysteries of Quackery', . . . 258 XXI. Father and Son, ..... 281 XXII. A Chloroform Case, .... 291 XXIII. The Passing of a Waster, .... 314 XXIV. Man to Man, ..... 330 XXV. Professor Frean performs an Operation, . . 351 XXVI. In the Royal Infirmary, .... 361 XXVII. Happy Hours, . . . . . .372 XXVIII. Temptation, ...... 379 XXIX. Claude has a Patient, ..... 389 XXX. Finis Coronat Opus, .... A STORY OF DUNBURGH UNIVERSITY. -*©"©-!-

Chapter I

A FUTURE DOCTOR. CLAUDE GARTON was very happy. His father, a simple country gentleman, had, after much deliberation, settled the perplexing question, "what shall I do with my boy ? " by deciding to make a doctor of him : and now Claude — with his father's benedictions and his mother's prayers still ringing in his ears— was being whirled swiftly, in a racing express train, towards the renowned and picturesque city of Dunburgh, at whose ancient University he was to enter upon the study of the Science and Art of Medicine. He had been fortunate in obtaining the sole occupancy of his compartment, and very pardonably felt on good terms with himself and all the world. The train stayed for some minutes at York, and here he alighted and walked up and down the broad platform to stretch his cramped limbs.

He gazed for a few moments with interest at the towD, his attention being chiefly arrested by the vast and weather-beaten fabric of the L venerable cathedral, which dwarfed the dingy houses clustered at its feet. On temporarily quitting his com partment he had with true British exclusiveness ingeniously disposed his baggage about the seats, to convey to any intending invader of its privacy the idea that it belonged to quite a large party, and that no more could crowd in under any circumstances. To his dismay he found, on returning, that an intruder had insolently appropriated a portion of the carriage, even going to such an extreme of rudeness as to remove one of Claude's bags to make room for himself. Claude naturally treated the man with disdain. The newcomer, who appeared in no wise abashed, and even cast amicable glances at Claude, seemed perfectly at home.

He was lolling back in an easy attitude, placidly puffing a cigarette in defiance of the fact that he was not in a smoking carriage, and had his feet resting upon the cushions of the opposite seat, to the utter contempt of the printed regulations. He was a rosy-cheeked smiling youth, with faultless teeth and genial blue eyes, and a boyish and beardless face, which, although he was two or three years Claude's senior, made liim appear as young. His broad and sturdy form — some thing inclined to premature corpulence it must be admitted — was attired in a faultlessly cut and uncreased suit of brown tweed, his necktie was of immaculate whiteness and set off by a pretty gold pin in which glittered a small diamond, his tanned boots were of a shade that harmonised with the colour of his clothes, and were surmounted by a neat pair of gaiters.

On his head rested a dainty travelling cap. The fragrant smoke of his cigarette he inhaled through his mouth, but exhaled through his nostrils, or else sent floating lazily upwards in quivering ring-like wreaths. By his side rested a formidable walking stick of olive wood, the handle of which was twisted into a crook which might have been the envy of a bishop. He had prudently laid in a stock of journals wherewith to beguile the hours. To judge from their titles their purchaser was not a gentleman of very serious tastes. They were chiefly of a dramatic or sporting character, and Claude was secretly of opinion that their reader must be either a juvenile actor or a bookmaker. la the rack above rested a well-strapped Gladstone bag with silvered buckles ; and on its side was painted in conspicuous characters, " W. Mostyn."

Claude was examin ing this inscription, and secretly wondering if that were the true title of its owner, or an alias, when the new passenger happened to suddenly turn his gaze full on him. Thus detected exercising his faculty of inquisitiveness, Claude felt a little embarrassed, and betrayed it in his blushing face. The other, however, showed no annoyance, but, evidently anxious to put Claude at ease, at once addressed him in a somewhat drawling voice, " I see, sir, that you already know my name — Mostyn, Wilberforce Mostyn. Might I in return ask yours ? " The frank manner in which this question was put momentarily disconcerted Claude, and he hesitated before replying. His good father, in one of his many homilies, had a few days previously told him of how a youthful traveller had been fleeced in a train by a gentlemanly stranger who proposed a little game of cards ; and Claude was therefore averse to receiving too amicably the advances of a stranger of evidently sporting tastes.

The other, in no way repulsed, took up the conversation before Claude had time to frame a guarded reply. " I may say," said he, " that I am a medical student. I have been spending the long vac. in the South. But the holiday is over now, and here I am bound for the old place again to put in a hard winter's fag." Claude was not quite clear whether he should believe this frank declaration, but the ice being broken he replied with a diplomatic " Indeed ! " "Yes," proceeded Mr Mostyn, "I had a grand time. Any amount of fun, and my cousins are the jolliest girls you can imagine. I wish the vac. was beginning instead of ending. Take a cigarette ? " "Thank you, but I am not a smoker." " You don't know what a pleasure you deprive yourself of. For myself, I could not get on with my dissecting had I not something to counteract the — ah — aroma of the room.

Now that Mr Mostyn spoke of dissecting, and was evidently not only a medical student, but one of experience, Claude felt ashamed of his previous suspicions, and in a more friendly tone replied : " You are then a medical student. May I ask if you belong to the Dunburgh University ?" "Yes. I am proud to be able to call myself a Dun burgh man." " I suppose you have to work very hard when attending classes ? " "Oh, yes, terribly hard. I'm what they call a reading man. I am quite celebrated for my intense devotion to my work. Up all night cramming — kept awake by draughts of strong coffee, and with a wet towel round my head to keep the brain cool." This confession was accompanied with an ironical smile which somewhat discounted its value. Claude, however, as yet unused to academical life, accepted it literally.

Work, unremitting and severe, with heroic abstinence from pleasure-seeking, he ingenuously imagined to be the sole duty, if not the chief delight, of every student. "Such application," he replied, "must be very hard upon your health ? " "It iS indeed. Look what a shadow I am. I am a mere wreck. Even the vacation has not put any condition on me." "I cannot altogether agree with you there," replied Claude, who began to recognise that the other was of a jocular temperament ; " you really seem to me to look re markably well. Your cheeks are quite round and radiant with health. But might I ask how long you have been a medical ?" " Close on two years." " Then you are well on in your course." " I ought to be after two years of such work as I put in. This winter I start Pathology and Materia Medica.

I will also go in specially for Bacteriology and Pathogenesis." Claude did not quite understand the meaning of these well sounding terms. The unknown being always great, he conceived a sudden admiration for the talents and achievements of his fellow traveller, who could roll such prodigious words so trippingly off the tongue. Forgetful forever of his first base suspicions, he made amends by handing his card over with a smile of brotherly greeting, saying meanwhile : " I am myself going to Dunburgh to enter as a medical student. I am charmed to meet you." " Put it there," said Mostyn, extending his hand, which Claude gripped heartily; " I trust we may be friends." " I certainly hope we may," said Claude ; " it is very fortunate I met you. Perhaps you would give me a few hints as to the work — what I should do when I arrive in Dunburgh, and so on."

" I shall be truly delighted. I may say I spotted you from the first as a budding student." * How ? " " by your general aspect and your rig-out, the mul tiplicity of your baggage, the tell-tale prelim, books that are strapped with your rug, and other signs known to the initiated. You'll soon pick up that indefinable visus eruditus, which enables one to diagnose the student at a glance, and to even allocate him to his proper year, and class him unerringly as reader, waster, or chronic" " I fear I would need much practice to become as pro ficient as that," returned Claude. " One tip I will give you here," continued Mr Mostyn, " the new man always travels first class — he has coin then, and thinks vainly of the exclusiveness and dignity which should accompany the going forth of a future saw bones.

Later on, funds usually suffer from a strange, unclassified disease, characterised by rapid wasting of tissue without corresponding replacement, and the student goes third without a protest." " But," retorted Claude, perceiving in the remark a sly drive at himself, " you are in a first class, like myself." " A first-class is the aspiration of every earnest student," rejoined Mostyn enigmatically, as he blew two long jets of smoke from his nostrils. " But this is quite an accident. I met a man, not a student of course, where I was staying, who had a first return, but was unable to get back within the time. I played him a game of nap for it. Hence the anomaly of my presence here." " I am quite excited at the prospect of becoming a student," ejaculated Claude with enthusiasm. " No doubt. For myself I have long passed that stage.

I used to feel it a glorious privilege, but the feeling has become the worse for wear. But have you any friends in Dunburgh ? " "No personal friends. I, however, have a few intro ductions. Dr Bennett, our family attendant and an old friend, who is himself a Dunburgh man, gave me a couple of letters — one is to Professor Frean, who was his fellow student, and the other to Professor Alison who was his teacher. Do you know them ? " " Know Frean ? Bather ! Everybody knows and likes Frean. Very fine man, so kind and candid ; able surgeon ; admirable lecturer. Alison, of course, has long retired. I only know him by name — a very good man in his day, I hear." Claude thought that Mr Mostyn spoke in rather a pat ronising tone. He afterwards found that it was usual for junior students to speak so of their seniors and mentors.

" Frean," continued Mostyn, " will, I am sure, be only too pleased to advise and help you, and to give you every possible tip about the professional side of the course. I'd look him up at once." " That will assist me materially. But what about the social side ? " " I will, with your permission, instruct you in that. I will put you into a good set, for among a couple of thousand or so you can only know a certain circle. I'll also help vou to find " digs " — short for " diggings " you know — and in fact act as guide, philosopher, and friend, till you know your own way about." During the remainder of the fast-speeding afternoon the two conversed freely, and Claude even accepted a cigarette, which, through the able tuition of Mr Mostyn, he soon smoked with quite an experienced air. For some obscure reason he firmly but politely declined a second.

Under the genial influence of the weed they grew confidential, and related their histories in outline. Mostyn it appeared came from Australia, and sounded the loud trumpet of that great country with many a sonorous blast. He had evidently employed his time at the University to advantage, and had all the intricacies of the curriculum at his finger ends. He, moreover, possessed a vast fund of more or less apocryphal anecdotes illustrative of the personal peculiarities of the various members of the professorial body. Many of these proved very entertaining, albeit they sounded somewhat irreverent to Claude, who as yet regarded the professors as remote and august beings, akin to the Olympian gods. Mr Mostyn, however, spoke of them as if they were merely common clay ; and as he was gifted with considerable powers of mimicry, wherewith he burlesqued the lecture room mannerisms of several distinguished individuals, there was scarcely a tedious moment all the afternoon.

At one time it appeared as though other passengers would intrude their unwelcome presence, but by the judicious application of what Mostyn learnedly termed oleum palmæ to the guard, they secured immunity from this outrage. By the time the train arrived in Dunburgh — shortly after nightfall — Claude and Mostyn had become so attached, that the former gratefully accepted an invitation to stay with the latter until suited with rooms of his own. As soon as they had dined, Mostyn having other business — a "tryst" he said they called it in Dunburgh — Claude sallied forth alone on a tour of inspection. A lull moon was riding in the heavens, and by its soft and silvery lustre the main outlines of the city and of its buildings were distinctly revealed. The loftiness, regularity, and architectural beauty of the structures which surrounded him on every hand filled him with enthusiastic admiration.

Here and there rose many-columned facades, soaring domes or tapering spires ; whilst spacious squares, adorned with statues, and relieved with shrubbery, abounded. For hours Claude walked hither and thither full of pleasure at the scenes that met his eye. Finally he found himself before a massive and imposing building that occupied a square to itself. It was in the Italian style, with elegant porticoes, and flanked by a Hall of noble proportions. There was no sight or sound of life within its ample curtilage, and its unlit windows reflected only the moon-rays. Separated by only an avenue stood another large building, modelled on the quaint and substantial castellated designs of the Elizabethan age. It stood back a little from the street as if to escape as far as possible the multitudinous noises of the traffic.

An investiture of lawns and planta tions lent an air of seclusion and serenity which not even the proximity of the great city in whose midst it stood, could entirely destroy. The monotony of the long walls was broken by tier above tier of subdued lights, which. from many scores of windows, radiated as beacons into the night, inviting those who suffered to enter and find compassion and succour. Claude needed no companion to inform him as to what purposes these great buildings were devoted. Instinctively he realised that they were the renowned Medical School at which he was about to enter as a student, and the splendid and famous Hospital which was its handmaid and complement. For some minutes he gazed contemplatively on those edifices, the doors of which were as yret unpassed by him. He felt that at that moment he was at a critical point in his young life's pilgrimage — pausing on the threshold of a new career.

Through his mind there flashed in brief epitome all he had heard of the grand traditions which clustered round those institutions, whose stately archi tectural equipage towered in solemn majesty before him — traditions carried without break from the humbler dwelling-places of the past in which they had been created and nurtured, to the vast and ornate habitations of the present. Were they not memorable both in the history of science, and in the history of humanity, for the long line of illustrious sons they had produced, and at whose brilliant and beneficent achievements the world was amazed and grateful . He felt that it was no light privilege, no easy responsibility, to be enrolled as an alumnus of an alma mater so distinguished and august. How would his own record be written on her scroll ?

Would it record ignominious failure, respectable mediocrity plodding drearily along the safe road of dull routine, neither rising into eminence nor sinking into obscurity, or would it com memorate a notable and bright academical life, from which he would emerge with the applause of admirinoellows, and the commendations of learned professors ringing in his ears, bearing away prizes and honours and regarded as one of the most distinguished students of his time.

Chapter II. The Session Opens

ON the day the session opened Mostyn kindly escorted Claude to the door of the Chemistry lecture-room. On the way they had to run the gauntlet of a horde of urchins, who thrust into the hands of all and sundry the circulars of medical booksellers and instrument makers Mostyn could not be prevailed upon to enter. He explained that, at his stage of advancement, to be seen in such a junior class as that of Chemistry would inflict irreparable injury upon his rising reputation as a hard-working and successful student. Besides, he had Pathology and other high-sounding ologies to study. Claude gazed upon his retreating form with envious eyes, wondering if he himself would ever scale such dizzy heights of scholarship. He was not quite early enough to secure a front seat, although with the good intentions which ever inspire the neophyte, he determined to be in time to do so at every one of the future ninety and nine gatherings of the class.

His present place was near the back, from which coign of vantage he was able to secure a bird's-eye view of the whole room and its occupants. It was just ten o'clock, the hour fixed by the official calendar as that at which the lecture should commence, but the professor had not yet made his appearance. Claude took advantage of the interval to survey his surroundings. The room was spacious enough to accom modate some five hundred students. The lecture-desk rested on a long counter-like table on the floor at the lower end. The seats were of polished white wood, and rose from the level of the table iu amphitheatrical tiers until the back seat — that favourite rendezvous of the Waster— was high placed indeed, and fitting for the academical " gods," inasmuch as it was close to the ceiling. The slope was sufficiently steep to allow of each student having an unobstructed view of the professor, aud of whatever manipulations he indulged in to illustrate his lectures.

Before each seat ran a narrow, hard, cold ridge of iron. It could easily be mistaken for a railing. It really illustrated the academical architect's notion of a desk. There was a tradition in the University that the idea of a ledge of iron to serve in lieu of a proper desk originated with a former professor in another Faculty. This gentleman having in early life had his name immortalized in a masterly, but biased and abusive, satire by a distinguished poet, was in his later days continually mortified at the discovery of the offensive lines carved on the class-room desks by idle and wanton students, who had more ingenuity and ingratitude than industry and good-feeling. The expectant students were employing the time of waiting by various little diversions calculated to deprive that brief period of all trace of tedium.

They were stamping their feet violently on the floor, and hammering their stout walking - sticks on the desks, in rhythmic movement. The din resounded far into the street, filling casual passers with astonishment, so incongruous did it seem with the calm and stately grandeur of the building from which it issued. Now and again these introductory proceedings were interspersed by popular choruses, in one of which the memory of a certain John Peel was celebrated with vigour, and in another the rare virtues of the in comparable Balm of Gilead were commemorated. A few of the younger students also amused themselves in making paper darts, most of them utilising the medical booksellers' circulars, and some ultra-enthusiasts going so far as to tear blank pages from their virgin note-books for the purpose ; and these missiles, when thrown by skilful hands, described eccentric parabola through the dusty air and lighted on the heads of classmates lower down, or even found resting places on the table sacred to the professor himself.

The great majority of the students were young — evidently youths hardly emancipated from the discij:>linary trammels of the secondary schools, against the restraints of which their noisy ebullitions were the inevitable boyish reaction — and for the most part beardless, but with, in many cases, faint suggestions of future moustaches decor ating their faces. The most common age seemed to be from eighteen to twenty. Here and there, however, in the throng could be detected men of older years, ajjjDroaching or in the thirties, whilst in one or two extreme cases, grey heads and beards were visible. One conspicuously venerable gentleman sat near the front. Claude at first imagined him to be a visiting professor. He subsequently found that he was an old missionary who after ministering to the spiritual wants of the benighted heathen for forty years, had conceived the noble idea of supplementing his ghostly comfort with the care of the physical ailments of his dusky flock, and was now valorously entering the lists with the first year's men.

On the walls were prominently displayed large sheets on which were printed, in bold type, tables of the elements, and highly-coloured representations of various abstruse chemical and allied industrial operations. On the long table were arranged numerous bottles filled with fluids of divers colours; beakers and retorts were there, wash-bottles and filters, and other picturesque and fragile appliances, which suggested Alchemy and other devices of occult art. Precisely at five minutes past the hour (for by an un written code five minutes grace is always granted by the students) the door of the retiring-room opened and Professor Krumm made his first appearance for the session. He entered with a lithe and springy step. His advent was the signal for a mighty outburst of cheers from the main body of students, intermingled with a few hideous cat-calls from the "gods."

One or two young men whom nature had originally designed for omnibus conductors, or who, under proper tuition might have developed into shining stars of the music hall stage, but whom misdirected parents had fondly imagined were born under the special guardianship of Esculapius, gave vociferous and ear -piercing imitations of various animals. One " artist," in particular, reproduced with striking fidelity the wild and heart-rending yelping of a badly-wounded terrier in the throes of death : whilst another gave a life-like rendering of the cacchinations of a hen who has achieved the physiological triumph of laying an egg. It is only fair to the class in general to state that these particular performers were promptly hissed down. Meantime the Professor stood with an agonised expression on his face, making deprecating and imploring gestures, sometimes wringing his hands in dumb despair, and anon covering his ears to shut out the tumultuous waves of sound.

The worthy but distracted man might have offered an inspiration to an artist about to depict Demosthenes endeavouring to address the wild and wasteful ocean. At one critical moment he made a sudden dive toward the door, as if to leave in disgust. But the more experienced knew this to be but the good-hearted Professor's favourite feint, and the abortive manoeuvre was greeted with up roarious hilarity by the back benches. Then he was seen to be speaking. So far as could be conjectured he was requesting silence. The tumult gradually died away. Professor Krumm beamed pleasantly at the class — a smile full of kindly welcome — and ejaculated the one word " Gentlemen ! " He seemed now to have the attention of all. But alas ! the thought was premature. From the upper regions floated the sound of a solemn chorus hummed by an ever-increasing number of voices in sonorous unison.

Four hundred and more throats were desecrating the solemn tune of the " Old Hundred." This was a common proceeding in this class, probably out of compliment to the strongly evangelical views the worthy Professor was understood to hold. He now seemed resigned to his fate. He had often passed through the ordeal before. Although he made an imploring gesture now and again, he stood his ground. The hymn tune ended with the first verse : there was a final round of applause, which raised an uncommonly unpleasant dust, and the class settled down in the un comfortable seats and prepared to listen to the words of the lecturer. The inaugural demonstration was over. The University did not waste time in formal opening ceremonies ; but the Chemistry class always nobly atoned for the supineness of the senatus.

Dr Krumm was one of the most popular professors in the University. His face glowed with geniality and philan thropy, and the character and disposition of the man himself did not belie these signs. Well on in middle age, strong and tall of frame, with alert and friendly blue eyes peeping from amidst hi§ bushy grey whiskers, among which stray dark hairs still lingered, reluctant to become " displaced," as he would call the porcess, by their age-betokening successors, Dr Krumm's personality and bearing commanded the im mediate respect of all, and to know him was to admire and love him. His head was surmounted by a well-worn, close fitting skull-cap of dark blue velvet, adorned by a silver tassel of attenuated dimensions. The tassel was dulled and tarnished by the influence of the chemical vapours amid which the enthusiastic scientist spent his days.

There was an irreverent tradition that the cap also did duty as a night-cap. There is reason to believe this to be but a malevolent fancy begotten by the fact that no modern eye amongst the undergraduates ever remembered seeing its illustrious owner without it. The Professor's scientific record was a distinguished one. He had rendered himself famous in more departments than one by his elaborate and original investigations, and his name is enshrined in the pages of many standard text-books. His students held it as an article of faith that he was fitted at a moment's notice, and without additional preparation, to undertake the duties of any Chair in the School. This was probably an exaggeration, but it gave evidence of their belief in his great powers. Before entering upon the technicalities of Chemistry the speaker, recognising that most of those before him were beginning the student life, devoted a few minutes to general counsel.

He pointed out that in these days the subjects of study are rendered as practical as possible. The mere bookworm who relies on a retentive memory and capacity for application, without employing powers of observation to become actually acquainted with the characteristics of what is under notice, has a bad time. The student who hopes for success must study objectively. In Chemistry he must become familiar, from personal observation, with the appearance and properties of all the obtainable substances ; he must demonstrate for himself actions and reactions, and the effect of the various solvents and so on. Just as in Anatomy the structure of the body must be chiefly learned, not from lectures or reading, but from dissection. Here the Professor related a little anecdote, which, like all professors' anecdotes or witticisms, was received with exaggerated hilarity and applause.

It referred to an apocryphal candidate in an anatomical ex amination. He was asked to describe the femur. He did so with remarkable glibness of speech, and striking accuracy of detail — in fact he recited a page from Gray, of immortal memory. Then the astonished examiner produced the very bone. The accomplished candidate, who had memorised a text-book, failed to recognise it. The class at last settled down into silence, broken by occasional scraping of feet when a long word was pronounced too fluently by the lecturer. The experienced gentleman would avert the threatened interruption by hastily writing the obnoxious term on the board. Occasionally, also, the back seat made its presence heard and applauded with undue persistence when an illustrative experiment was performed, but, apart from these transitory ebullitions, the only sounds to be heard were the scratching of pens as they scurried across the note-books and the flexible voice of the lecturer rapidly uttering his theorems.