[CHAPTER XV]
The Lunatic—Insanity and its Causes in Ireland—The Usual Old Lady and Donkey—Sunshine and Shadow—Clonmines and its Seven Churches—The Crosses around the Holy Tree—Baginbun and the Landing of the English—The Bull of Pope Adrian—Letter of Pope Alexander—Protest of the Irish Princes—Legends—Death of Henry II.
"To some men God hath given laughter, and tears to some men he hath given."
To-day it is tears and sadness for one poor woman.
B. is a magistrate here and last night at dinner a warrant for his signature was brought to the house. It was for the commitment of a poor woman to an asylum for the insane and this morning we roll away to the village to conclude the matter. The "Court" awaits our arrival, but I have no mind for such scenes; indeed I do not think it right that mere lookers-on should be permitted, any more than curiosity seekers should be allowed to stare at men in prison. So I stay out in the car while B., followed by the "Court," which has been sunning itself outside, passes within.
However, I am not to escape in all ways, as, turning my eyes towards a window to the left, I see the poor woman staring out at me, the sadness and misery of her expression passing description,—life is so absolutely over for her, with nothing save the horror of increasing insanity to look forward to throughout all the years which may remain of existence. Her mother died in an asylum and her fate is certain. The curse of intermarriage has pronounced her doom as it does for so many in Ireland. It is also claimed that much of the insanity so prevalent here is caused by excessive use of tea, and such tea. Placed on the stove and allowed to simmer and stew all day, it acquires a strength that would destroy in time the strongest of nerves.
This poor woman goes to the asylum by her own wish, and is glad to go, knowing the hopelessness of it all for her. Ah, the pity of it, and one is so absolutely powerless to do aught to help! The law is soon complied with and leaving her sad face still at the window we roll away.
The day is especially brilliant and the air like wine, laden with the fragrance of the hawthorn and wild grasses; while the hedgerows bordering the lanes are a mass of blossoms, and the world is beautiful,—all the more beautiful by contrast with that glimpse of sadness we have just left.