Each madhouse has its gods and priests, its sovereigns and its subjects, terrific mimicry of worldly superstitions, pomp, pride, and degradation! There, tyranny rules with iron sway, until the keeper’s appearance makes tyrants know there does exist a power still greater than their own. In madhouses egotism prevails as generally as in the world, and nothing around the lunatic sheds any influence unless relating to his wretched self. In this struggle between the mind and body, this constant action and reaction of the moral and the corporeal energies, when reason has yielded to the brute force of animal passions, and the body with all its baseness has triumphed over the soul, one cannot but think of Plutarch’s fanciful idea, that, should the body sue the mind for damages before a court of justice, it would be found that the defendant had been a ruinous tenant to the plaintiff.
In many cases of insanity we observe a singular fertility of glowing imagination and a vivacity of memory which is often surprising. Dr. Willis mentions a patient who was subject to occasional attacks of insanity, and who assured him that he expected the paroxysms with impatience, as they proved to him a source of considerable delight. “Every thing,” he said, “appeared easy to me. No obstacles presented themselves either in theory or in practice. My memory acquired of a sudden a singular degree of perfection. Long passages of Latin authors occurred to my mind. In general I have great difficulty in finding rhythmical terminations, but then I could write verse with as much facility as prose.”
Old associations thus recalled into the mind are often mixed up with recent occurrences, in the same manner as in dreaming. Dr. Gooch mentions a lady who became insane in consequence of an alarm of fire in her neighbourhood. She imagined that she was transformed into the Virgin Mary, and that a luminous halo beamed round her head.
It is said that the Egyptians placed a mummy at their festive board, to remind man of mortality. Would not a frequent visit to a lunatic asylum afford a wholesome lesson to the reckless despot, the proud statesman, and the arbitrary chieftain? There they might converse with tyrants, politicians, and self-created heroes, in all the naked turpitude of the evil passions, who in their frantic gestures would show them that which they wish to be—that which the world considers they are! Often would they hear the maniac express the very thoughts that ruffle their own pillows, until the dreaded bell that announces the doctor’s visit, and which with one loud peal destroys his fond illusions, herald of that knell which sooner or later must call them from the busy world they think their own. How beautifully has Filmer expressed the madman’s fears!
See yon old miser laden with swelling bags
Of ill-got gold, with how much awkward haste
He limps away to shelter! See how he ducks,
And dives, and dodges with the gods; and all
Only in hope to avoid, for some few days
Perhaps, the just reward of his own sad extortions.
The hot adulterer, now all chill and impotent
With fear, leaps from the polluted bed,
And crams himself into a cranny!
There mighty men of blood, who make a trade
Of murder, forget their wonted fierceness;
Out-nois’d, they shrink aside, and shake for fear
O’ th’ louder threat’nings of the angry gods.
Whatever may be the nature of insanity or our fallacious views regarding it, it is a matter of great consolation to find that our mode of treating it is at last founded on rational and humane principles. The unfortunate lunatic is no longer an object of horror and disgust, chained down like a wild beast, and sunk by ignorance or avarice, even below the level of that degradation in the scale of human beings, to which it had pleased Providence to reduce him,—we no longer behold him rising from his foul and loathsome bed of straw, scantily covered with filthy tatters, his hair and beard wild and grisly—his eyes under the influence of constant excitement, darting menacing looks—the foam bubbling through his gnashing teeth—clanking his fetters with angry words and gestures, threatening heaven and earth—gazed at with dismay, through massive bars—the very female seeming of doubtful sex:
Her unregarded locks
Matted like fury-tresses, her poor limbs
Chain’d to the ground; and stead of those delights
Which happy lovers taste, her keeper’s stripes,
A bed of straw, and a coarse wooden dish
Of wretched sustenance.[18]
Now, the unfortunate persons are restored to social life as much as their sad condition allows; they enjoy every comfort that can solace them in their lucid intervals, when their hallucinations cease; in illness they are treated with kindness and liberality, and in health, their former associations with the busy world, are recalled by labour, voluntarily performed or stimulated by the incentive of some additional comfort. No coercion is resorted to, except to prevent the furious maniac from injuring himself and others, and then, such means are adopted that restrain his violence without a painful process. Even the straight waistcoat, which impedes respiration, is generally banished in all well-regulated establishments, and belts, sleeves, and muffs, which merely secure the hands, without preventing a free motion of the articulations, are usually resorted to. To such an extent is healthy occupation carried on in lunatic asylums, that at this moment at Hanwell, out of upwards of 600 inmates under my care, 421 are at work and distributed as follows:
Hanwell may be said to be an asylum for incurables, since it is doomed to receive old cases that scarcely ever afford a chance of recovery; to which are added a large proportion of the idiots and epileptics of Middlesex, whose families cannot support them.