With regard to medical charities, the precise value of which is fortunately not a subject of political difference, the King has enjoyed practically a free hand. Twice in his life His Majesty has realised in his own person the incalculable benefits of skilled medical and surgical treatment and trained nursing, being indeed on the first occasion literally snatched from the jaws of death. Though the King’s active support of hospitals dates from an earlier time in his life, these experiences doubtless strengthened his keen desire to render the benefits which he had himself enjoyed available for the poorest classes of the community. Perhaps His Majesty’s interest in medical science dates from a visit which he paid when quite a boy to the great school, mainly for doctors’ sons, at Epsom. At any rate there can be no doubt about the steady development of that interest, which may be said to have culminated in “The Prince of Wales’s Hospital Fund for London,” established as a memorial of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee.
Probably only those who are concerned in the practical working of this fund have an adequate idea of the good which it has already done and will do in the future. It is not merely, as was erroneously supposed at first, a machine for collecting money which might as well be sent direct to individual hospitals. No one who appreciates the practical bent of the King’s mind could ever have believed that he would give his name to such a scheme as that.
The fundamental idea of the fund is the giving of personal service, the money collected being used as a means of raising the standard of work done in the various hospitals. Before the fund existed there was no regular systematic inspection of the London hospitals, which in consequence presented very varying degrees of efficiency, some institutions being admirably conducted, while in others the funds were to a greater or less extent frittered away owing to the lack of good business management. It never occurred to the great majority of business men to associate themselves in the practical work of hospital administration, though they subscribed most generously to the hospital funds. The King’s plan was to enlist the personal service of the most competent and representative business men, who should form, in conjunction with certain eminent physicians and surgeons, and a number of peers and members of Parliament of tried ability, a visiting committee to inspect thoroughly every London hospital. On the reports of this committee, grants from the fund were to be made immediately, or promised subject to conditions, or in extreme cases altogether withheld.
The moral effect of this ingenious scheme has been extraordinary. Not only have weak hospitals been brought into line, but the better-managed institutions have been improved, while as regards individuals the effect has been to encourage every competent hospital official and to minimise as far as possible the harm done by the incompetent. At first it was thought that the investigations of the visiting committee, which are necessarily extremely thorough, might be resented as inquisitorial and un-English, but the visiting committee found that the authorities of almost every institution were eager to afford all possible information. The income of the fund and the amount annually distributed show a steady increase, which has been greatly fostered by the Order of the League of Mercy instituted by the King in 1899. This decoration is bestowed only as a reward for special personal service in the cause of the hospitals. The hospital stamp, too, which brought in so much money to the fund, was, if not actually designed, at any rate suggested by His Majesty, the central figure being Sir Joshua Reynolds’s “Charity,” which is to be seen in the famous Reynolds window at New College, Oxford.
Perhaps the most often quoted observation ever uttered by the King is his famous saying about preventible diseases—“If preventible, why not prevented?” His Majesty is an eager supporter of every properly authorised medical discovery which promises to be of value to humanity in the alleviation of disease. For example, both the King and Queen Alexandra have taken the greatest interest in the “light treatment” for lupus introduced by Dr. Finsen, a Danish savant, which Her Majesty had installed at the London Hospital, and as we have seen His Majesty experienced in his own person the value of the Röntgen rays for purposes of diagnosis.
The King has long been deeply impressed with the ravages of consumption and other forms of tuberculosis, and when, comparatively recently, an association for the prevention of this terrible scourge was established, he not only became its president, but took an active part in its deliberations. Moreover, not long before the death of Queen Victoria he consented to preside at a great National Congress on Tuberculosis to be held in London in the course of 1901, and to be attended by delegates from all parts of the British Empire.
As far back as 1863 the King became a patron of the Brompton Hospital for Consumption, and in 1879 he laid the foundation-stone of the new wing by which its accommodation was largely increased. A few years afterwards he showed his continued interest in the same subject by presiding at a festival dinner in aid of the Royal Hospital for Diseases of the Chest, in the City Road, which brought in nearly £5000 to the funds of the hospital. Until comparatively lately, consumption was regarded as practically incurable, and it says much for the King’s clearheadedness and insight that he unhesitatingly placed himself at the head of the crusade against the disease. The historian of the future will reckon this as not the least of the services he has rendered to his people.
As may be imagined from the diversity of his interests, the King’s correspondence of late years rivalled that of Queen Victoria, and His Majesty is always eager to acknowledge the debt he owes to his private secretary, Sir Francis Knollys. The correspondence is reduced by the private secretary to three distinct sections—the private letters, the business letters, and the miscellaneous letters. Among the latter are those written by lunatics, begging-letter writers, and so on. The private letters are sent up to the King unopened, the others are all read through by Sir Francis and again subdivided, the larger section to be replied to in a formal and official way, the others to be submitted to the King before they are dealt with.
Some of His Majesty’s correspondents evidently have a touching belief in his power of righting wrong. They implore him to take up their cause when they are injured, and it may be stated that no bona fida epistle was ever sent to the King without being answered, often with marvellous celerity, and ever with the greatest courtesy and kindness.