His later years were passed at Sevenoaks, where he kept an
establishment for imbeciles, or weak-minded youths. I often
stayed with him (not as a patient), and a very comfortable
and pretty place it was. Now and then he would call on me in
London; and, with a face full of theatrical woe, tell me,
with elaborate circumlocution, how the Earl of This, or the
Marquis of That, had implored him to take charge of young
Lord So-and-So, his son; who, as all the world knew, had -
well, had 'no guts in his brains.' Was there ever such a
chance? Just consider what it must lead to! Everybody knew
- no, nobody knew - the enormous number of idiots there were
in noble families. And, such a case as that of young Lord
Dash - though of course his residence at Sevenoaks would be a
profound secret, would be patent to the whole peerage; and,
my dear sir, a fortune to your humble servant, if - ah! if he
could only secure it!'
'But I thought you said you had been implored to take him?'
'I did say so. I repeat it. His Lordship's father came to
me with tears in his eyes. "My dear Wigan," were that
nobleman's words, "do me this one favour and trust me, you
will never regret it!" But - ' he paused to remove the
dramatic tear, 'but, I hardly dare go on. Yes - yes, I know
your kindness' (seizing my hand) 'I know how ready you are to
help me' - (I hadn't said a word) - 'but - '
'How much is it this time? and what is it for?'
'For? I have told you what it is for. The merest trifle
will suffice. I have the room - a beautiful room, the best
aspect in the house. It is now occupied by young Rumagee
Bumagee the great Bombay millionaire's son. Of course he can
be moved. But a bed - there positively is not a spare bed in
the house. This is all I want - a bed, and perhaps a
tuppenny ha'penny strip of carpet, a couple of chairs, a -
let me see; if you give me a slip of paper I can make out in
a minute what it will come to.'
'Never mind that. Will a ten-pound note serve your
purposes?'
'Dear boy! Dear boy! But on one condition, on one condition
only, can I accept it - this is a loan, a loan mind! and not
a gift. No, no - it is useless to protest; my pride, my
sense of honour, forbids my acceptance upon any other terms.'
A day or two afterwards I would learn from George Bird that
he and Miss Alice had accepted an invitation to meet me at
Sevenoaks. Mr. Donovan, the famous phrenologist, was to be
of the party; the Rector of Sevenoaks, and one or two local
magnates, had also been invited to dine. We Londoners were
to occupy the spare rooms, for this was in the coaching days.
We all knew what we had to expect - a most enjoyable banquet
of conviviality. Young Mrs. Wigan, his second wife, was an
admirable housekeeper, and nothing could have been better
done. The turbot and the haunch of venison were the pick of
Grove's shop, the champagne was iced to perfection, and there
was enough of it, as Mr. Donovan whispered to me, casting his
eyes to the ceiling, 'to wash an omnibus, bedad.' Mr.
Donovan, though he never refused Mr. Wigan's hospitality,
balanced the account by vilipending his friend's extravagant
habits. While Mr. Wigan, probably giving him full credit for
his gratitude, always spoke of him as 'Poor old Paddy
Donovan.'
With Alfred Wigan, the eldest son, I was on very friendly
terms. Nothing could be more unlike his father. His manner
in his own house was exactly what it was on the stage.
Albany Fonblanque, whose experiences began nearly forty years
before mine, and who was not given to waste his praise, told
me he considered Alfred Wigan the best 'gentleman' he had
ever seen on the stage. I think this impression was due in a
great measure to Wigan's entire absence of affectation, and
to his persistent appeal to the 'judicious' but never to the
'groundlings.' Mrs. Alfred Wigan was also a consummate
artiste.
CHAPTER XLII
THROUGH George Bird I made the acquaintance of the leading
surgeons and physicians of the North London Hospital, where I
frequently attended the operations of Erichsen, John
Marshall, and Sir Henry Thompson, following them afterwards
in their clinical rounds. Amongst the physicians, Professor
Sydney Ringer remains one of my oldest friends. Both surgery
and therapeutics interested me deeply. With regard to the
first, curiosity was supplemented by the incidental desire to
overcome the natural repugnance we all feel to the mere sight
of blood.
Chemistry I studied in the laboratory of a professional
friend of Dr. Bird's. After a while my teacher would leave
me to carry out small commissions of a simple character which
had been put into his hands, such as the analysis of water,
bread, or other food-stuffs. He himself often had
engagements elsewhere, and would leave me in possession of
the laboratory, with a small urchin whom he had taught to be
useful. This boy was of the meekest and mildest disposition.
Whether his master had frightened him or not I do not know.
He always spoke in a whisper, and with downcast eyes. He
handled everything as if it was about to annihilate him, or
he it, and looked as if he wouldn't bite - even a tartlet.
One day when I had finished my task, and we were alone, I
bethought me of making some laughing gas, and trying the
effect of it on the gentle youth.
