Sir Aldo Castellani (1877-1971), a great medical scientist

(Excerpted from Selected Journalism by HAJ Hulugalle)

The Twentieth Century Impressions of Ceylon, that massive volume of Ceylonians published in 1910, records that the man who came to be known as Marchese Sir Aldo Castellani, KCMG, was born on the September 8, 1874, or just a 100 years ago (as this is being written). But who, a reader of the younger generation may well inquire, was this man, and why should we take note of this centenary of his birth? Well, he was a versatile character who had a distinguished career in Ceylon for 12 years as a physician and medical scientist. Thereafter in a long life, he continued to hit the headlines in many foreign fields.

Castellani’s name appeared in such reference books as “Who’s Who”, the “International Who’s Who” and the “Authors and Artists Who’s Who”, but in each case with a different year of birth. I am inclined to accept the date of birth given in “Twentieth Century Impressions of Ceylon” because the information would have been furnished when he was a comparatively young man.

He gave his autobiography published in 1961, the title “Microbes, Men and Monarchs”. This neatly sums up his chief interests and achievements. He came to Ceylon in 1903 at the age of 29, having been appointed by the Colonial office in London as Director of the Clinic on Tropical Medicine and Lecturer of the Colombo Medical College. He had studied medicine at the University of Bonn in Germany and had held appointments in Naples, Bologna and the London School of Tropical Medicine before coming out to Ceylon.

Castellani was the first, and probably the only Italian to hold an important office in this country, although there were men with Italian names like Anthony Bertolacci, Auditor-General in the early years of the nineteenth century, and Carlo Zenetti an irrigation engineer much later.

When he was called to the colours of his home country during the First World War, Castellani left with a heavy heart. He wrote later: “So I left Ceylon in January of the year 1915 but a part of my soul remained there. The memory of the Enchanted Island stirs in my heart an emotion which can only be expressed as love. I was lover of that wondrous country then, I still am, and I shall be to the end of my days.”

He was born in Florence, where Raphael and other renaissance artists did some of their best work, and which is still a repository of painting and sculpture. When I was living in Italy about 20 years ago, it was my favourite city, and it could be of many others who have been fortunate enough to wander aimlessly in that Tuscan capital. I was asked to have a marble statue made from a model sent from Ceylon for the Vihara Maha Devi Park in Colombo and the commission was given to a florentine sculptor.

I met Aldo Castellani in somewhat unusual circumstances. He was then over 80 years of age. Our encounter was at the Madrid airport where we were waiting for our respective air connections. He was in the company of ex-King Umberto of Italy, the last ruler of his line. The day, as I gather from an old diary, was November 27, 1955.

I was on my way to Liberia. William Tubman used to get himself re-elected every four years as President of the Republic of Liberia. I had been instructed to proceed to Monrovia, the capital, to represent Ceylon at the official celebrations. One of the stops between Rome and my destination was Madrid. Castellani was by profession a physician and by choice a courtier, and for many years he had been physician to the royal House of Savoy. King Victor Emmanuel had abdicated on the May 9, 1946, after 46 years on the throne in favour of Crown Prince Umberto, On June 2 of that year however, the Italian people voted to end the monarchy and to set-up a republic. Umberto was thus King for only 24 days.

I introduced myself to Castellani and he seemed pleased to meet someone from Ceylon and presented me to the ex-King. He spoke of old times in Ceylon and of his friendship with Sir Solomon Dias Bandaranaike, the father of SWRD who was my contemporary at school in Mutwal and Mount Lavinia. Like Sir Solomon, Castellani had moved with kings, been knighted by the British and was a KCMG. But he had been deprived of these honours during World War II when under Mussolini he headed the health services of the Italian armies fighting against Britain and her allies.

Sir Solomon makes several references to Castellani in his autobiography entitled “Remember Yesterdays”. I quote two brief passages from it: “In the midst of these numerous engagements, I was visited by a grave domestic anxiety when my son in June 1905, had a serious illness. He was taken down to Colombo where the skillful treatment of Dr. Aldo Castellani assisted by Dr. David Rockwood and Dr. R. Saravanamuttu resulted in his ultimate recovery”.

Fifteen years later, Sir Solomon’s son was again seriously ill, Sir Solomon writes: “I received a disturbing telegram one day that Sonny was down with an attack of paratyphoid at Oxford. I promptly cabled to Dr. Castellani”.

In his own autobiography, Castellani writes of Sir Solomon and his son: “He (Sir Solomon) was a delightful man with perfect polished manners, plenty of brains and a most generous heart. We became firm friends. His son, a charming and intelligent little fellow, caught diphtheria at their country home near Veyangoda and I was fetched to see him.

Anti-diphtheria serum was given. I remember I ordered huge doses which surprised the local country doctor. The little boy grew up into a brilliant clever young man and was sent to Oxford by his father. There – to use his father’s expression – he became affected with rather advanced political ideas, and Sir Solomon was very upset. At a public dinner I heard the young man in his second year, give a speech which held us spellbound; it was spontaneous, ebullient, magnificent oratory”.

In Ceylon, Castellani’s patients had come from all levels of the population. He was treating poor patients at the General Hospital and he was called elsewhere to see distinguished visitors such as the Empress Eugine, widow of Napoleon III and the Crown Prince of Germany, when they were ill in Colombo. Although Castellani had the gift of healing, he was first and foremost a medical scientist and it was as such that he came out to Ceylon.

He had already been a member of the Commission appointed by the British Foreign Office for the investigation of Sleeping Sickness and had been awarded the Craig Medal for his share in the discovery of the germ. Among the diseases for which he had found cures or palliatives were elephantiasis (‘Gaile legs’) and yaws (‘parangi’). He was also an expert on malaria and Mussolini used his services during his campaigns in Africa.

Castellani’s researches sometimes took strange directions as this passage from his autobiography indicates: “Sinhalese girls are renowned for their beauty. They are slender and graceful with chiselled features and luminous dark eyes, and their complexion is hardly darker than that of southern Europeans. The charming oval face is often speckled with the famous golden beauty spots praised in songs by ancient and modern Sinhalese bards as ‘gomara’ which means drops of tears of liquid gold’. “Incidentally, I may say that my investigations mania led me to take scrapings from these spots and examine them microscopically; they were colonies of a fungus! My enthusiastic announcement of this fact was received coldly by the Sinhalese literary and poetic circles”.

When he was employed by the Ceylon Government he does not seem to have charged fees from the locals. No doubt grateful patients sometimes gave him a gift. He once surprised a Maharaja who came from India to be treated by him. The Maharaja sent him a cheque for 20,000 rupees which he returned saying that his fee was Rs.150. “His secretary told me later” writes Castellani “that the Maharaja was at first greatly annoyed, but then laughed, and swore that never in his life – most of it spent consulting doctors over three continents (it was his hobby) – had he such an incredible experience”.

Castellani’s beautiful daughter Jacqueline, appropriately enough, married an English Ambassador, Sir Miles Lampson (later Lord Killearn). World War II saw a turning point to Castellani’s life and career. He was once again called to arms but this time Italy was fighting against Britain and her allies. He lost his Harley Street practice, his connection with the London School of Tropical Medicine and his KCMG. At the end of that war he attached himself to the Italian Royal Family. He escorted the Queen and her children to Portugal and kept close to King Umberto in his exile. It was in those circumstances that I met him.

I find a letter to me from Aldo Castellani in my pillowcase of old letters, It is dated May 22, 1965, and is sent from Junquira, Lisbon. He would have been 91 then. I had sent him one of my books “Ceylon of the Early Travellers” and in the course of a complimentary acknowledgment said: “I remember your grandfather very well indeed. Should you pay a visit to Portugal I am sure His Majesty Umberto will be very pleased to make your personal acquaintance.”

(First published in Sept. 1974)