IS AN ENGLISH LUNATIC ASILUM.

Otago Witness, Issue 1967, 5 November 1891, Page 40

IS AN ENGLISH LUNATIC ASILUM.

THE TRAG& AND COMIC SIDES OF ASYLUM LIFE. The Comic Side. Life within an asylum is not without its comicalities, incredible as it may seem ; and even the imprisoned sufferers themselves are often vastly amused by the outrageous sayings and doings of their fellow patients. Of course these are the better class of patients, who, barring a few. illusions, are rational enough. To a casual observer nothing very comical appears within an asylum ; but it is when one has passed two years, as I have done, in the capacity of an attendant, that its most comic as well as its most tragic side manifests itself. 1 A stranger going into an asylum would probably meet with a seemingly most rational inmate — a man who would converse with ' him on almost any subject in a very sensible manner. Gradually he would begin to wonder why on earth did they keep such a man locked- up in an asylum, till the patient confidentially tells him that Michael the Archangel is an intimate friend of his, or some equally, absurd statement. The man 'of titles is to be found in all asylums. There was'a patient at the asylum where I was who had land and titles not only all over the earth, but in the moon and stars, in addition to which he was Zion's king. He was generally occupied writing doggerel verses to the female attendants, all of whom : were ladies of the highest rank, with ex1 travagantiy romantic names. - There was another ma% who was always, begging for the favour of someone to cut his throat. He had religious' scruples about doing it himself. I believe he was in earnest too, for I have seen him bare his throat without flinching while an attendant drew a knife across it. Another inmate was possessed of the idea that he was made of wood, and if by any means he got broken he could easily remake himself. He was most dogged and determined, and would fight like a demon, and in . our struggles with him, for he was very refractory, his cry used to be, " You pay break me, but I can make'myself over again." The asylum being close to a seaport town, we had several foreigners in it. One in particular could only speak a few words of English. He required the undivided care of one man, for if left unattended he would amuse himself by breaking windows. He well knew when he was in the hands of a new attendant, and generally seized on the favourable opportunity to smagh a 3'quare of glass. Then he would innocently look into his surprised keeper's face' and utter the only English sentence he ktew— " Do me good, dat." His dress usually consisted of a suit of strong, course canvas, which was locked upon him, for he preferred the primitive state to the usages of modern civilisation. But the most comical of the lot was an old fellow who never spoke a single coherent sentence. He had a wonderful gift of the gab, and hour after hour he would , spin out the most ridiculous string of words, while all the time he elaborately illuetrated his speech with all manner of, gestures and grimaces. Here is a sample of one of his little speeches, generally delivered while chewing a quid of tobacco, which he frequently took from his mouth to shove into his ears, poise on the tip of his nose, or pass through one" of his buttonholes : — "You see, Malcolm, when the little bopeeps jumped ever the fig tree, and the three little nightingales went out for a walk, the rain washed the church steeple right on top of the corn lawß, and the old hen, jumping down- from the, top of the schoolhouse to peck up the pebbles, shouted to her mate : 'Cheese, old cock 1'" Manra madmen have a curious habit of stuffing their pockets with all kinds of rubbish, such as stones, pieces of rope, bits of stale bread, ladies 1 garters, scraps of rusty iron, broken glass, old nails, and how they become possessed of them is a mystery. One of the inmates believed that the famous men of one generation were the madmen of another.' According to his views Wolsey, Cromwell, Peter the Great, Louis XI, and many other bygone notables wfcre his daily companions. He himself was King Charles I, whose head was simply screwed again, and it was, be imagined, easily unscrewable. Ruskin, he asserted, would be a refractory patient, at^ some future period requiring a straight waistcoat. Frequently visitors carry away with them unpleasant recollections. I once found a pale, delicate-looking man in a lonely part of the grounds in the clutches of a burly, but very harmless, patient. He had the visitor by the collar, and was gazing into his face in a strange and altogether stupid manner. Goodness knows what his object was, but he did not mean mischief, for the poor man would not hurt a fly. Let me add for the consolation of those vfho have friends in asylums that they need have no fear that they are ill-treated, for -during my two years at the •— County Asylum I saw nothing but kind and considerate treatment dealt out to the patients by every officer of the establishment. The majority of the poor fellows enjoy themselves fairly well, and though painfully conscious of their .own sad affliction, are nevertheless keenly alive to the ludicrous in their companions. Tbe Tragic Side. But the tragic side of asylum life I Who can doubt that there is such a thing ? Who that has ever passed close to the sombre walls of an asylum, and heard the wild ravings, the fierce shouts and piercing cries, has not involuntarily shuddered at those dismal sounds 1 &,,,., But it is reserved to those who daily move among the poor wretches, who minister to their wants, and who hear them breathe the names of the loved ones from whom they must evermore be isolated, to fully realise the tragedy' of their blighted lives The natural affeotions are not always dulled •when even the mind is hopelessly affected; madmen are as capable of tender emotions and as susceptible to the most acute pangsas people possessed of undimmed reason. > There is .one ward in an asylum where

very melancholy incidents take place — the epileptic ward. The epileptic patient is generally speaking the most rational of all the unfortunate inmates. It is only after one of those terrible fits of epilepsy that the mind loses its balance. I have known the most inoffensive and weakly man become at such times so fierce and refractory that it required several strong men to master, him. I have known a patient go for months without one of those violent attacks. He worked regularly about the grounds, was even allowed to g« into the village to parchase tobacco, came back exactly at the appointed hour, and in every respect behaved i like a rational individual. But all at once down he would fall in a fit, and arise out of it a dangerous and violent maniac, ready to seize' the nearest weapon and kill whoever was in his way. I remember a poor woman there who was subject to epileptic fits. For eight months she had been wholly free from a bad attack. The doctors looked upon her as recovered ; even intimated to her their intention of taking her before the visiting justices for hei discharge, and wrote to her husband to come for her. The poor woman, of course, was overjoyed at the prospect of a speedy release, and kept wondering how she would find her home and her little ones. As the day approached her feverish joy grew boundless. The night before the sitting of the visiting ■justices six of the men attendants were called out of their beds to go into the female part of the building, this same woman having within a couple of hours become a raging maniac beyond the control of the nurses. The suicidal patient gives the most trouble, for it requires the unremitting vigilance of his keepers to prevent him from destroying himself. Once I found', a patient standing against the wall, his face blue and swollen,.and knowing that several red marks stood against his name in the ward book, I examined his neck and found his necktie fastened so tightly around his throat that I could scarcely squeeze my fingers in to untie it. Bat the saddest scenes of all are enacted in the visiting room. Many a bitter tear have I seen shed there as the young wife looked eagerly into hei insane husband's face with that sad, mournful question, " Do you know me, dear ? " to receive only a blank, stupid stare in return. Then she would turn to me, who knew it was a hopeless case, and ask me about his condition — did he ever speak of her or their children, and if I thought he would get better? And what could I say? What could anyone with a human heart do but return some vague, indefinite answer not calculated to wholly destroy the blessed hope which partially brightened her young and clouded life ? I have seen the heart-broken mother here bending over her idiot boy— idiot in everything except in love for the one who bore him — and how reluctantly she tore herself away from him. It was pitiful to see hisoutstretched arms as she went away, and doubly pitiful was her sorrowful look over her shoulder ere the door ! closed them.In the visiting room was once begun a tragedy that was consummated in the ward. Some friends came to visit a patient, and' brought with them, as many foolishly do, some presents,- which the attendants have strict orders to prevent the patients from receiving. In this particular instance, the friends had brought a bottle of whisky, acd passed it to the patient while the attendant's eyes were turned away. The attendant, noticing something bulky in the lunatic's, pocket when he took him back to the ward, searched him, found the whisky, and forthwith reported the matter to the governor.' A few days afterwards, as this same attendant was passing through, the ward, hd received a fatal stab from the patient, who had by some means armed himself with a sharp pointed nail. Here let me offer one word of advice to visitors. Do not give money to the attendants; it does not' ensure "any better treatment, for the afflicted relatives; and I have known unscrupulous attendants 1 take bribes from the friends of patients whom they scarcely ever saw from" one week's end to another.— "An Ex-attendant," in a Home paper.