WHO GOVERNS THE INMATES?
But, says one, who governed these patients you have named within? This I can answer readily, though I had to learn it. Brattleborough and the Marshall institutions were high schools to teach human nature to me. I was on one of the halls of the Brattleborough asylum with thirty-seven patients, where blood was often shed; upon this hall was a patient by the name of Adkins, here I thought my attendants were lunatics, did not certainly know. But soon after I got into the Marshall institution, this same patient, Adkins, became attendant over me, I shall call him the Brattleborough lunatic barber, for he often ordered me into the shaving room and shaved me, and my Lord I was afraid to be shaved by a lunatic barber in a room alone, no alternative, be shaved I must. And when I was taken to the incurable house, Alfred and Thomas Haly, formerly patients, whom I shall speak of in future pages, became my attendants. These men had been self-abused; Alfred was a drunkard; the others were something else—they also knew how to abuse others; give such low, degraded men the keys, and a little authority, and their word is law, and they are lord of all. Such men govern within.
After suffering more than ten years in this institution, I graduated on the 13th day of October, 1870. If any one thinks that I have not got my diploma, please look at the accursed harness in the engraving that I bought in 1873 of Mr. Hogan of River street, Troy, similar to the accursed ones used in the Marshall Crazy House, to bind poor unfortunate men and women with, and then torture and strangle them. I have read of our Saviour casting out devils in kindness, and I have read of the devil being bound in everlasting chains, but it never came into my mind that such barbarous acts were practiced in these institutions, until I saw them with my own eyes and experienced to my sorrow.
I am governor of my own house, but if I do not rule it well, I shall be awfully accountable on the day of judgment. And I fear those twenty-six governors, doctors and inspectors, and all who have any thing to do in holding men and women in slavery in this institution will have a dread account to give at the judgment day.
March 29, 1860. After I had lodged in this dead-house hell many lonely nights, I made up my mind that I was considered a bad man by all who knew me, yet I was childlike and innocent. I had more than uncommon watch-care, for I greatly feared to do any thing wrong. Here I used much discretion and caution, shunning the paths of the inmates, for many of them were as ferocious as lions. At length I was removed from this cell to an opposite room on the same hall, and Patrick Fitzgerald was locked up in it, after which a John Beldon, a man who, it was said, killed his daughter in a passion. By this time I had learned this cell was used for wicked men, and I was numbered with transgressors in the asylum as well as in the post-coach at my door, when we first started. This, in addition to my own spiritual trouble, added greatly to my sorrows and tears. I was obliged to stay upon this hall with these lion-like men through the day-time, though in fear of my dear life. I was the whole time quiet and peaceable, although I groaned under my burden with groans that could not be uttered. Since I left the asylum I have often visited it, not because I felt it a sort of a home, neither because I was cured, by a course of medical treatment (for I had no medicine administered to me the first four years). I visited, not because I had any antipathy against the governors of this institution, doctors or inspectors. But I visited out of pure motive, for often the words of the Saviour came to mind, "The poor ye have always with you, and when you will you may do them good." On one of my visits to the asylum, I remarked to Dr. Lomax, "You have got a nice theater, now," said I, "you need one more house, separate from noise, to keep the quiet patients in." Although my advice may not be heeded, I suffered much for want of sleep by being disturbed by noisy inmates. I remained upon this dead-house hall most of the time till the war broke out, about that time I was removed to a small hall near the dining-room. I have said but little about the transactions I saw in that dead-house hall; many that pained my heart. Among the many was one most trying to see, a person walk up and down the hall like a roaring lion, and leaf after leaf torn from the Bible, and destroy it by chewing with his teeth. This Bible lay upon a stand at one end of the hall. Here was a mixed multitude of many nations, of high and low degree, of different faith and different belief, some mild and gentle, whilst others were lion-like and ferocious as tigers; here the quiet ones had to share the abuses of the ruffians, and the ruffians had to share the abuses of the attendants. I have seen patients that were bound with handcuffs upon this dead-house hall, taken by the throat by attendants, and their breath shut off. I have seen patients called by attendants to their assistance, who would thrash other patients to the floor most cruelly. These transactions, with many others, led me to remark to Doctor Lomax the necessity of having a house of quietude for quiet patients.
Had my father, when farming, put all his stock into one fold, such as the horses, the oxen, the swine, the lambs, and all the fowl kind, would not the strong and ferocious trample down and kill the weak and the innocent, as is done in these popular institutions at the present day? I am not recording such barbarous transactions to gratify a disordered mind, but to wake up sensibility and activity in sane minds to the subject of suffering humanity.
Neither am I setting forth the inward workings of this institution that it may be disannulled by the authority that chartered it, for the purpose of keeping the unfortunate and poor. I am aware that there are many innocent ones who are suffering in these institutions who are proper subjects for a prayer-meeting and not for a penitentiary. There are many received into these lunatic asylums that are more fit for State prison or penitentiaries than places like these, and these are they that cause so much bloodshed, as did Haly and Mrs. Anderson, in my case, being appointed attendants by the government of the asylum.
I have stated that about the time the civil war broke out I was placed upon a hall near the dining-room, the patients in this hall were more quiet at times. In the room that I occupied were three single beds, one was occupied by Charles Barclay a part of the time, at other times while I remained these were occupied by transient comers. At one time there was a patient came into this room bound with belt and handcuffs, locked up with me for a room companion. Now I was in a perilous situation, for he was a strong, muscular man, apparently unable to control his thoughts and acts. Many nights he would ramble about the room, climbing from bed to bed, and from window to window, while I lay mute in fear; he descended from his ramble to the floor, raised my bed from its foundation, and threw me prostrate on the floor. Mr. Burr, the attendant, hearing the noise, unlocked the door and hurled him out.
How many times I have thought of sweet home and friends once so dear, when locked up in these rooms with these brute-like men. And many has been the time when I have knelt upon my knees in silent prayer in this poorly governed institution and implored mercy and deliverance, and thanks be to Him who hears prayers, He delivered me and gave me peace, and brought me on my way home rejoicing.