Last Impressions. An exhibition at the Hunterian Museum, University of Glasgow, until 25 May 2002. The exhibition is also available at www.hunterian.gla.ac.uk/ museum/exhibitions/deathmask/death_index.html. Monday to Saturday 9.30 am to 5 pm. Admission free. Rating: ★★★
We all know the old chestnut that we all contain a molecule from the dying breath of Julius Caesar. Why is this appealing? Probably for the same reason as with the reputed last words of King George V: “Bugger Bognor.” The veracity or otherwise of either of these is not really the point—the fascination is with the “last things”: the deathbed speech, the final breath.
Members of the public rarely get to see the faces of the dead these days. When they do it is usually either because the dead were iconic figures—Lenin or Eva Peron—or because the manner of their death was violent or shocking—think of the Ceausescus or the heroin addict hunched over her last fix. The faces of the peacefully dead are largely unknown to us.
This exhibition is made up of the Hunterian's small collection of death masks and its subjects are a fairly eclectic mix. There is the museum's founder, the 18th century anatomist and obstetrician William Hunter, and his friend and teacher William Cullen, a physician and clinical lecturer. The other subjects are Isaac Newton, Voltaire, Charles Edward Stuart, and Charles XII of Sweden.
The fascinating thing is what the faces tell you of the subjects' lives and deaths. Isaac Newton looks deep in concentration. Charles XII looks stolid—surprising since his death was the only violent one of all those whose masks are on display. The bullet wound to his right temple shows the manner of his death. Voltaire's smile is evident still in death. Cullen and Hunter both have the faces of old men: Cullen's has a suggestion of a stroke or facial palsy, while Hunter's is edentulous.
The mask of Charles Edward Stuart (Bonnie Prince Charlie) is anything but bonnie. After defeat at Culloden he was something of a lost soul wandering Europe in the hope of winning support for the Jacobite cause. He died in Rome, a lonely man having taken to the bottle—the mask is a pale shadow of the vibrant Young Pretender.
These masks are relics of an age whose concept of memento mori—“remember you must die”—is almost completely alien to us. Doctors are one of the few groups who have the privilege of regularly seeing the faces of the dead. Next time you see the face of a dead patient, take a closer look.
Figure.
Charles Edward Stuart: not so bonnie