Sir Astley Cooper (b. 1768, d. 1841) also did not belong to the brimstone school. His surgical skill was very great, and he liked to display it. He always retained perfect self-command in the operating theatre, and during the most critical and dangerous performances on a patient, he tried to keep up the latter’s courage by lively and facetious remarks. When he was in the zenith of his fame, a satirical Sawbones said of him:
’Nor Drury Lane nor Common Garden Are, to my fancy, worth a farden; I hold them both small beer. Give me the wonderful exploits, And jolly jokes between the sleights, Of _Astley’s Amphitheatre_.’
When Sir Astley lived in Broad Street, City, he had every day a numerous morning levee of City patients. The room into which they were shown would hold from forty to fifty people, and often callers, after waiting for hours, were dismissed without having seen the doctor. His man Charles, with more than his master’s dignity, would say to disappointed applicants when they reappeared on the following morning: ’I am not sure that we shall be able to attend to you, for our list is full for the day; but if you will wait, I will see what we can do for you.’ During the first nine years of his practice Sir Astley’s earnings progressed thus: First year, £5 5s.; second, £26; third, £64; fourth, £96; fifth, £100; sixth, £200; seventh, £400; eighth, £600; ninth, £1,100. Eventually his annual income rose to more than £15,000; the largest sum he ever made in one year was £21,000. A West Indian millionaire gave him his highest fee; he had successfully undergone a painful operation, and sitting up in bed, he threw his nightcap at Cooper, saying, ’Take that!’ ’Sir,’ replied Sir Astley, ’I’ll pocket the affront;’ and on reaching home he found in the cap a cheque for one thousand guineas.
Dr. Matthew Baillie (b. 1761, d. 1823) was a physician who occasionally indulged in the brimstone temper, and was disinclined to attend to the details of an uninteresting case. After listening on one occasion to a long-drawn account from a lady, who ailed so little that she was going that evening to the opera, he had made his escape, when he was urged to step upstairs again that the lady might ask him whether, on her return from the opera, she might eat some oysters. ’Yes, madam,’ said Baillie; ’shells and all!’