My Experiences in a Lunatic Asylum: By a Sane PatientMerivale, Herman Charles
Science
My Experiences in a Lunatic Asylum: By a Sane Patient
Merivale, Herman Charles
Insanity (Law); Mentally ill -- Care
But I am anticipating a little. I met this lady, happily for me, at a
seaside 'house of ease,' to which some few of the patients were
periodically sent from the 'Establishment,' as the asylum was
euphemistically called (we were very refined and Pickwickian altogether,
and our warders were our 'attendants'), for change of air. To obtain even
that slight relief, an order from the magistrates, who execute justice and
maintain truth--and in this case were connections or near neighbours of
the head of the establishment--is considered necessary. No loophole for
escape was left us which the law can sew up. For five fearful months I
lived at head-quarters in the asylum, the whole _morale_ of heart and mind
being more played upon and shattered every day. I have described the ways
of two of my companions. Another, with an abnormally large head of hair,
had a way of skipping about the house with startling entreaties for
'baccy,' or singing to himself a favourite little song, which ran thus:
'Hey-diddle-diddle, I want some more beer.' Yet he could be consecutive
sometimes, too, when one talked with him; and under the care of the same
matron he sensibly improved, as, when I met him again afterwards--how
shall in due course be told--he had sensibly deteriorated. He was mad, no
doubt, quite mad, but very gentle; and I ask all good and reasonable
people, on every good and reasonable principle, how such a malady as his
can be bettered by constant association with other mental maladies of
every sort and kind? For myself--I say it again--my physical weakness
saved me, with the consequent incapacity of the brain to receive immediate
impressions strongly. But the impressions were made, deep and enduring;
and they come out afterwards in the light of health and freedom, as the
photograph takes form and strength under the action of the chemicals. Now,
happy and free, the horrors that were like dreams at the time seem to
shake me as I write; and strongly balanced as I know my brain to be, I
doubt if the companions who in sickness but vaguely frightened me, in
health would not break me down. There is a very fearful responsibility
somewhere for what was done to me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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