BRATTLEBOROUGH ASYLUM, VT. MY RIDE TO BRATTLEBOROUGH ASYLUM.
In 1843 I visited the Vermont asylum, and little did I then think that in 1859 I should have to pass through the iron gate leading from Dr. Rockwell's office and be shut up with thirty-six lunatics in the third story of that asylum. "Be ye also ready, for ye know not what a day brings forth."
August 29, 1859, I was partly persuaded by my friends and in part compelled, by others, to go to Brattleborough asylum to undergo a course of medical treatment. From this time up to 1870 no person saw a smile on my countenance. In addition to my own spiritual troubles and weakness of body, to be snatched from my home and locked in with such a crew was enough to break one's heart or make many crazy.
The day was warm and fine; had a fine shower. After brother B. and myself were seated in the vehicle in came Esq. Warren who volunteered his services. Weak as I was I had no pains or aches until they were brought on by the treatment I received in the asylums. We rode forty miles the first day, the Esquire kindly holding a shade over me to keep off the heat of the sun. Going through Bennington, soon we arrived at the top of the Green mountain, where I laid down waiting for refreshment in the Fox hotel, in the neighborhood where I preached in the summer of 1841, while attending school at Bennington. Paul verily thought he was doing God's service when he was persecuting the church; his mind changed. After trying to serve the Lord many years I verily thought I should be forever lost, and was unhappy ten years and more. A mistake is no sin, though we suffer by it. But to my story; after we left the hotel we proceeded slowly onward, and when the heavens blackened and the rain descended, we hauled into a barn by the wayside. After the shower we continued our journey onward, and, as is common to nature, the esquire had occasion to leave the wagon; we halted. Here, I thought, was a chance to elope and shun the dreaded asylum, but my better judgment forbade it on account of the weakness of my body, and I sat in the wagon. After the esquire returned we made our way onward and arrived in a village some eight or ten miles from Brattleborough. Here, in the hotel, we staid. Supper being over, I was shown to my bed by my guides and the landlord who says "I sleep under this room, if any thing is wanting." Two beds in the room, the esquire pushed his against the door. I lay with B., did not sleep sound; was not a strong believer in dreams, but here I saw, in a vision or dream, the bottomless pit, as I thought, while unconscious of all else around me. The unbeliever may argue, there is no place of torment "where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched," but Christ told his disciples to say, "he that believeth not shall be damned."