properly understood and skilfully treated from the first, he might conceivably have been saved; but the doctors failed to diagnose his symptoms; and it is noteworthy that his principal physician was Sir James Clark. When it was suggested that other advice should be taken, Sir James pooh-poohed the idea: "there was no cause for alarm," he said. But the strange illness grew worse. At last, after a letter of fierce remonstrance from Palmerston, Dr. Watson was sent for; and Dr. Watson saw at once that he had come too late The Prince was in the grip of typhoid fever. "I think that everything so far is satisfactory," said Sir James Clark.[1]
The restlessness and the acute suffering of the earlier days gave place to a settled torpor and an ever—deepening gloom. Once the failing patient asked for music—"a fine chorale at a distance;" and a piano having been placed in the adjoining room, Princess Alice played on it some of Luther's hymns, after which the Prince repeated "The Rock of Ages." Sometimes his mind wandered; sometimes the distant past came rushing
- ↑ Clarendon, II, 253-4: "One cannot speak with certainty; but it is horrible to think that such a life may have been sacrificed to Sir J. Clark's selfish jealousy of every member of his profession."—The Earl of Clarendon to the Duchess of Manchester, December 17, 1861.
