Monday, Dec. 17, 1928

Blood Royal

Most people thought until quite recently that pneumonia was a disease in which one grew rapidly worse until THE CRISIS, whereupon one either died or definitely recovered, unless there was a RELAPSE. These old-fashioned ideas have been strikingly challenged by the King of England's steady resistance to pneumonia over a period exceeding three weeks. Science has now so advanced the medical profession that it has been possible to increase and fortify the white germ-destroying corpuscles in the blood royal. The skilled specialist is prepared today to wage a long-drawn war of attrition with the enemy germs in which the chances of medical victory are enormously enhanced. The old-fashioned CRISIS was the climax of a short, decisive skirmish between the infective germs and whatever white germ-eating corpuscles the patient was lucky enough to possess.

Among leading English physicians the opinion was frequently heard last week that had His Majesty been stricken even five years ago by so virulent an infection he would have died within ten days. The authoritative British Medical Journal told in simple, vivid language of the new means used to strengthen and increase the number of white corpuscles in the blood royal: "The infection belongs to a type with which clinicians have become much better acquainted in the last ten years. . . . There is no set duration and no crisis. . . . There are phases or chapters on infection . . . and . . . the temperature settles slowly and intermittently. . .<<.

"A blood culture was taken and a positive result obtained. The therapy directed against the [King's] infection has taken the form of chemical antidotes and attempts to raise the immunity" by injections into the blood stream.

Naturally, in the application of such treatment everything depends on the skill of the bacteriologist who examines the patient's blood and determines the nature of the injections. Therefore, British interest has focused sharply on Dr. L. E. H. Whiteby, the brilliant young bacteriologist who was called in by the elder royal physicians Baron Dawson of Penn, Physician-in-Ordinary, and Sir Stanley Hewett, Surgeon Apothecary (TIME, Dec. 3). Dr. Whiteby, with amazing speed, in 24 hours produced an autogenous vaccine from infected material taken from His Majesty. That vaccine was injected into the royal blood stream and directly combatted the pneumococcic poisons there.

A regrettable but persistent rumor was to the effect that early last week the "family doctors" found themselves in doubt upon several minor features of the case and therefore summoned further consultants. Sir Stanley Hewett was said to have called in Sir E. Farquhar Buzzard, and Lord Dawson was believed to have summoned Sir Humphry Rolleston. Presently these names were added to the signatures appearing beneath each bulletin displayed in every post office throughout Great Britain. To post up the Buckingham Palace bulletin not typewriter script, but inch-high black lettering was used.

Since the palace was shrouded in fog most of the week special "sunlight lamps" were placed in the sick room and an electric dehydrating machine employed to clear and purify the air. During a common "London fog" such as occurs dozens of times each winter, the moist particles hold so much dust in suspension that even healthy throats begin to tickle and the irritation to lungs already enflamed may become intense. For this reason His Majesty's venerable uncle, the Duke of Connaught, spends every winter at balmy Cape Ferrat on the French Riviera where he remained last week.

Interest in the royal nurses rapidly mounted as details were slowly wormed out of the palace news censor. At first he would say no more than "they are middle-aged women." Then he admitted their number (four) and that Her Majesty was not assisting with "the actual nursing," though constantly in attendance. Next it was learned that the four nurses all came from London's great charity hospitals and finally that they correspond to the four "nations" of the British Isles. Nurse "Nation" Hospital

Purdie English Westminster

Gordon Scotch St. Thomas'

Black Irish London

Davies Welsh London

The medical weekly Lancet stated on the basis of generous praise from the royal physicians that "in this case the best of nursing has played no small part."

At Toronto, Canada, famed Nurse Vivian Tremaine who tended George V when he fell from a rearing horse during the War, said last week: "The King was an ideal patient. . . . When he was convalescent, I wanted an evening off to go to the theatre but I didn't dare to ask the doctors for it. I wanted to go so much that finally I asked the King. He laughed and said, 'Go, by all means!' " Later His Majesty bestowed on Nurse Tremaine the Order of the Red Cross, the Royal Victorian Order and a pretty diamond brooch.

The insurance offered by Lloyds against "national mourning" prior to February i, 1929--i.e., against the death of the King by that date--was at rates indicating a virtual certainty of death early in the week and a marked uncertainty later. Strangely enough, the retired onetime Archbishop of Canterbury, now Baron Davidson of Lambeth (TIME, Aug. 6) considerably influenced the insurance rates. Baron Davidson is a close friend of the King and was also the prelate called in just before the passing of Edward VII. Therefore when he arrived at Buckingham Palace last week, death was thought practically certain by the insurance raters. Presently, however, the Baron emerged smiling and paused before entering his limousine to light a cigarette. Rates dropped. Later, since the public was beginning to call such insurance "betting," most firms publicly announced that they would write no more "mourning insurance"--wrote a little on the sly. Up to the very hour of Edward VII's death such "betting" was open, flagrant.