(A SKETCH FOR THE “MEDICOS.”)

Scene.—The mess-room, of the Medical Staff at Chatham. A couple of dozen Doctors at dinner; all in blue uniform,—red collar and cuffs, no epaulettes. Guests, consisting of a retired Major, and a Captain of Infantry on full pay. Attendants, &c. &c.

Staff Surgeon Ward. This goose is as good a subject as ever I cut up:—Doctor Adipose, shall I send you a superior extremity?16

Dr. Adipose. Thank you, Mr. Ward. I’ll take one—au—hau—, with a slice of the breast; and, as your hand is in, you may as well let me have the—au—Pope’s nose.

Staff Surgeon Ward. There,—there,—there, Doctor—there you are; there is the delicious os coccygis for you.

Dr. Adipose. Thank you, au—hau—, thank you, my dear friend—very good, indeed.

Dr. Kyle. Permit me to send you some sauce.

Dr. Adipose. Thank you, Doctor, au—hau—, very good, very good; it looks a perfect Kitchener,—au—hau, very good, indeed.

Hospital Assistant Lintly. Mr. President, a little soup.

President. Eh! what! soup again, Lintly?

Hospital Assistant Lintly. Yes, Sir, if you please.

President. There, there. De’il a word I’ll say aboot yer taste, mon; gin ye had supped as much sargery soup as me, ye’d tak to soolids.

Dr. Kyle. Ah, Mr. President, you were too long in the Peninsula to recover your taste for soup.

President. True, Doctor! Hey—de ye remember when you and I war hospital mates togither at Belem, when the sargeryman wad han’ us up twa smoking tins o’ broth, to see if it war fit for the sick; an’ then we wad hae anither twa, to see if it war fit for the wounded; an’ then twa mere to see if we liked it oorsels,—ha! ha! ha! Doctor, we war jolly hospital mates, then. Ecod! I never swallowed a mouthfu’ o’ soup sin’ I was promoted.

Dr. Kyle. I was never an hospital mate, Mr. President; “Hospital Assistant to the Forces,” was my first appointment in the department.

President. Aweel, it’s a’ the self-same thing. When I first entered—noo sax-an’-twenty years—we had mates, an’ nae assistants at a’.

Dr. Kyle. You are perfectly right, there; the service had no assistants at that time, sure enough.

Dr. Adipose. (wiping his chin.) You are too severe, Kyle; au—hau—; you are, indeed, hau—; I’ll trouble you for a cut out of the thick end of that haunch of mutton; it looks delicious; au—hau—, good indeed—very good.

Dr. Kyle. I’ll send you a slice, Doctor, that will digest on its first contact with the gastric fluid;—there, Sir, there.

Dr. Adipose. Hau—, very good. I haven’t seen such a haunch as that since the last annual dinner of the society for the benefit of the widows of our department; that was delicious, too.

Capt. Beamish. Oh, you have a society, then, for the widows of your department, Doctor?

Dr. Adipose. Yes, yes; I’ll tell you all about it, by-and-by.—A little currant jelly, Thomas.

Dr. Kyle. Yes, Captain, to the laudable exertions of Sir James M’Grigor we are indebted for a valuable fund,—sufficient to protect our widows and our orphans, if it please God to leave them without other means.—Mr. Lintly, do you take mutton? Oh! Sir, it is a vast advantage.

Major Oldfield. ’Pon my honour, I am very happy to see such improvements in your department. When I entered the service, now fifty years ago, there was no department at all. A surgeon was something like our present military parson; he used to go about in plain clothes, or with a black coat and a military cocked hat: his pay was bad; and as to his assistant, he was a sort of lob-lolly-boy; but now, how different! Ah! the Duke, Heaven rest his soul! was the first who improved your department, Gentlemen, as well as every other belonging to the army.

Dr. Adipose. Major—au—I’ll trouble you for a little of the harrico—hau: It looks very well—au—very well, indeed.

Vice-President. Splint, shall I send you a little pig?

Mr. Splint. Indeed it is a thing Mrs. Splint is very fond of; and if you like, I’ll send my servant up to you to-morrow for it.

Vice-President. For what!

Mr. Splint. Why the little pig you mentioned.

Dr. Adipose. Poo—oo—au—ha! ha! ha!

[A general laugh—more at the expense of Dr. Adipose than the little pig.]

Vice-President. Why, my dear Sir, I asked you to take a little of this roast pig.

Mr. Splint. Oh dear!—I beg your pardon.

Dr. Adipose. Very good—very good joke indeed—hau. Well, I think as you mentioned it, I’ll taste the little pig—a leetle bit, Mr. President. Devilish good joke—thank you, that will do.

Vice-President. Yes, Major, the Duke was our best friend; it was he who first raised the pay of the surgeons, and thus made the situation more worthy to be filled by men of education. Sir James M’Grigor, and Sir William Franklin, have completed what the Duke began, and now, thanks to those gentlemen, our department is not only happily organized, and its rank sustained, but we can furnish in the field, men of genuine professional education; not tyros of the pestle, but scientifically bred surgeons, who can whip off your legs while you’d be saying “Jack Robison.”—A glass of wine, Major.

Major. With great pleasure.

Dr. Adipose. Mr. Vice, I’ll taste that wild duck—hau—it looks well—and squeeze a lemon on it:—but first we’ll take a glass of wine—hau.

Capt. Beamish. I’m not so long as the Major in the service, by twenty years, and even in my time the military surgeons were in general inferior to what they are now, both in education and respectability.

Mr. Ward. The peninsular war required a vast deal of surgeons, and therefore, a number of young unqualified men, of necessity were sent out to Portugal; but since that, Sir, this very Chatham hospital has been established; and it bids fair to become a school for military surgeons.

Dr. Kyle. By-the-by, it would not be a bad thing to follow Buonaparte’s plan of educating medical men for the army. The Parliament might vote money for worse purposes than promoting the health and comfort of the soldiers in providing a military-medical school.—This I really believe. Then, in case of necessity, we should not be forced to receive indifferently educated surgeons into the service.—Chatham would be the very place for it. We have already a splendid anatomical museum, a good library, and an extensive hospital. All wanting now, is permission to receive young men as pupils or cadets, who would be supported by government until fit to join the army:—Something like the Artillery-school at Woolwich. Then the well-qualified officers of the department, who are now receiving half-pay for nothing, might have here something to do in lecturing as professors.

President. Hoot! if ya’d apply to parelament for sic a thing, ya’d ha’ Masther Joey Hume at wark wi’ his hammer an’ tongs:—he’d cry oot “sae muckle for lodging—sae muckle for poorridge—an’ sae muckle for pooltices,” till he’d run up a bill for the hoose that wad beat the Docthor’s Bill clane oot an’ oot.

Dr. Kyle. But Sir James and Mr. Hume are both Aberdeen men, are they not? There might be something done that way.

President. Nae, that wad do naething; Sir James has a lang heed o’ his ain, an’ if it war to be done at a’, he’d nae consult the calculator aboot it.

Dr. Adipose. Very true, Mr. President, hau—I’ll thank you for another custard, au—just to finish this apple-pie.

President. First we’ll take a drap o’ wine, Docthor; ya’r takin’ reed, so there’s the decanter.

Major Oldfield. I really think the plan is good; for this reason:—when men expend a considerable sum on medical education, they look to a return; and the success of private practice is far more tempting than the army-surgeon’s; therefore professional education might be provided for them at a moderate expense, and as a security, they might be bound to remain a certain number of years in the army.

Capt. Beamish. I remember a joke which passed current at the expense of the young surgeons when I was at Lisbon:—a ship was hailed, in passing up the Tagus, to learn what she had on board, and the Master answered “horses and hospital mates, for the use of the army.”

Vice President. Very true: there were many such jokes played off upon them; and this was owing, in a great measure, to the want of such an establishment as this at Chatham. Then, a set of young raw Scotch or Irish pupils would come up to London, pass their examinations, and be ordered forthwith out to Portugal. Unacquainted with military etiquette and the usages of officers, it is not to be wondered that they were in general laughed at. I myself have seen one of the medical juniors—then a dispenser of medicines, but now Apothecary to the Forces—dressed in a brown ill-made surtout coat, blue trowsers ending at the calf of the leg, pepper-and-salt coloured worsted stockings, and shoes; the whole surmounted by a cocked hat, and straight black feather: in one hand he carried his sword, and in the other an umbrella!

[A laugh from all the mess, particularly convulsive in Dr. Adipose.

President. It’s vary deeferent noo; look at us a’ here fra’ top to bottom—there’s nae irreg’larity in oor appearance—nae gaudy gewgaws aboot us, but neat an’ military to a degree: oor uniform is noo blue an’ reed ye see—then it was reed an’ black. Here, when a young man joins us, he learns not only his duty, but the mode o’ appearing like a proper meelitary surgeon, an’ joins a regiment ready made, as it were: it was far deeferent during the peninsular war. I can assure ya gentlemen, the present Airmy Meedical Board deserve the highest praise—an’ something more substantial too, for the establishment o’ this valuable heed-quarters, I may call it, o’ the Meedical Department; an’, wi’ yir leave, I’ll noo drink their health in a bumper; [all rise] I’ll gi’ ya, gentlemen, Sir James M’Grigor, an’ Sir William Franklin, the regenerators o’ the Meedical Department.

[drunk with three times three.

Assist. Staff Surg. Leech. The only thing I see unpleasant in our situation, is that we are not promoted fast enough.

[a laugh.

President. There is something in that: Misther Leech there, has been in the sarvice—hoo long noo, Leech?

Assist. Surg. Leech. About eight years on active service abroad, and nearly eight more on half-pay.

President. Ha! that’s a long time. I remember when I enthered the sarvice, an assistant-surgeon seldom remained withoot promotion for mere nor three years, and some got it in as many months. But this can hardly be helped noo, fra’ the encreased numbers. Hooever, it wad be an improvement in the Department, if the juniors were mere quickly promoted; and also a greater number o’ gude places for the seniors to look up to.

Dr. Adipose. Right, Mr. President, hau—take care of the seniors.—I’ll thank you for the nuts.

[a laugh.

Vice President. There are not enough of high places certainly. The situation of Inspector of Hospitals, is all that the surgeon can fairly look to; and of these there are not many. Now what is that worth?—about 700l. a year. This, mind you, is the utmost a man can look to, unless it be the directorship of the Department; and that is but one place of worth—all this after twenty or thirty years of troublesome service:—there lies the disadvantages of the profession. If a surgeon be but commonly attentive, and fairly qualified, he will soon be worth more than twice seven hundred a year in civil practice: nay, an apothecary, who sticks up a blue bottle at the corner of a narrow lane in London, will soon make as good an income as the Inspector of Hospitals.

President. True enough: there ought to be at least half a doozen gude births, o’ a thoosand a year, by way o’ rewards for auld and meretorious meedical oofficers; an’ the young ones ought to run up a leettle faster. What d’ye think of the sinecures given to the Irish Medical Board:—the present Surgeon-general, an’ Physeecian-general, an’ several o’ the Inspecthors, enjoy their full pay an’ allooances, yet were never in the army at a.’ (murmurs of disapprobation from all the Mess) Yes, gentlemen, ’tis fac’ as deeth:—hey! I wish the Duke may just tak’ it into his head to examine it.

Dr. Adipose. Au—hau—that’s the man for cutting up the Doctors—hau—I’ll take the olives and that orange, Mr. Ward—hau—thank you.

Dr. Kyle. What our worthy President says is just. Those situations in Ireland were given to rich civil practitioners—I believe by one of the Viceroys: now, really, if Viceroys choose to reward their medical friends with good incomes, they should not take the money out of the pockets of those officers who have been living like gipsies on the mountains—enduring every privation to watch over the lives of our gallant soldiers; or perhaps wasting their health and life in the pestilential air of tropical hospitals. There are but few good places in the Department, and surely they should not be given to wealthy practitioners, who do not belong to the army. Cheyne, Crampton, Peel—all worth at least two or three thousand a year each by their practice—take three of our best places from us; yet, until their present appointment, never had anything whatever to do with the army.

Mr. Ward. Yes; Crampton, I believe, was an hospital mate for five or six months; and, I remember, he did duty in the camp which was on the Curragh of Kildare.

Dr. Kyle. Vast service, indeed! (a laugh.)

Dr. Adipose. Gentlemen, I’ll give you a toast—hau:—I’ll give you—Mr. Abernethy and the digestive organs.

[A roar of laughter follows the corpulent gentleman’s toast.

President. Why—Adipose—what the deel maks you toast the digeestive organs?

Dr. Adipose. Because they are our best friends—hau—and the particular supporters of our worthy brother Abernethy.

(applause.)

Major Oldfield. Gentlemen, I’m sorry my health requires me to leave you. There was a time when I could drink with the best of you: but I am seventy-six years of age, and that I hope will be my excuse for quitting so early this pleasant mess-table. Allow me, before I go, to say that it gives me the greatest satisfaction to see the hospital staff thus consolidated: many attempts were made, during the long time I served in the army, to establish a regular mess in this department, but all failed. I give you joy, therefore, gentlemen, on the attainment of the object now: and I trust you will not receive it as flattery when an old officer tells you, that for forty years in the service, he never had the honour of dining at a mess where there was more military regularity and more enlightened members. Permit me now, Mr. President, to drink “Prosperity to the Medical Officers of the Army—the soldiers’ best friends in the day of sorrow.”17

(great applause.)

The Major now departed—several of the members of the mess, who were on duty, also retired to the hospital, and the remainder sat in pleasant conversation until eleven o’clock, when they partook of deviled turkey, specially prepared by Doctor Adipose; and having washed it down with a few glasses of claret, broke up for the night.