A Love Story Part 15

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Chapter XX.

The Mad House.

"And see the mind's convulsion leave it weak."

The land breeze continued to freshen, and the first dawn of morning saw our party on deck, scanning with near view, the opposite coasts of Sicily and Italy, as their vessel glided through the Faro of Messina.

Some pilot boats,--how unlike those which greet the homeward-bound voyager, as he first hails Britain's chalky cliffs--crowded around the vessel, offering their services to guide it through the strait.

Avarice--one incentive to language--had endowed these Sicilian mariners with a competent knowledge of English, which they dealt out vociferously.

As the Captain made his selection, the rejected candidates failed not to use that familiar English salam; half the gusto of which is lost, when used by foreign lip.

On the Calabrian coast, the sea-port town of Reggio wore an unusual air of bustle and animation.

It was a festa day there; and groups of peasants, in many-coloured costumes, paced up and down the mole; emitting that joyous hum, which is the never-failing concomitant of a happy crowd. Pa.s.sing through the Faro, the vessel's course lay by the northern coast of Sicily.

The current and wind were alike favourable, as it swept on by Melazzo and Lascari.

Etna, towering over the lesser mountains, became once more visible; its summit buried in the clouds of heaven.

On the right, a luminous crimson ring revealed Stromboli, whose fitful volcano was more than usually active.

The following day our party arrived at Palermo. So pleasurable had been their voyage, that it was with a feeling akin to regret, that they heard the rumbling chains of the anchor, rush through the hawse-hole, as their vessel took her station in the bay.

After going through those wearisome forms, which a foreign sea-port exacts; and which appear purposely intended, to temper the rapture of the sea-worn voyager, as he congratulates himself on once more treading terra firma; our party found themselves the inmates of the English hotel; and spent the remainder of the day in engaging a cicerone, and in discussing plans for the morrow.

The morrow came--sunny and cloudless--and the cicerone bowed to the ground, as he opened the door of the commodious fiacre.

"Where shall I drive to, Sir?"

"What were our plans, George?" said Sir Henry.

"I think," replied George, "that we only formed one plan to change it for another. Let the cicerone decide for us."

_He,_ nothing loath, accepted the charge; and taking his station on the box of the carriage, directed the driver.

The carriage first stopped before a large stone building. The bell was rung--a veteran porter presented himself--and our party entered the court yard.

"What place is this?" said Delme.

"This," rejoined his guide, with the true cicerone fluency, "is the famous lunatic asylum, inst.i.tuted by the ill.u.s.trious Baron Pisani. This, gentlemen, is the Baron!"

Here a benevolent-looking little man with a large nose, took off his hat.

"So much approved of was his beneficent design, that our n.o.ble King, and our paternal Government, have not only adopted it; but have graciously permitted the Baron, to continue to preside over that inst.i.tution, which he so happily commenced, and which he so refulgently adorns."

During this announcement, the Baron's face flushed with a simple, but honest pride.

These praises did not to him appear exaggerated; for his intentions had been of the purest, and in this inst.i.tution was his whole soul wrapt up.

Acme became somewhat pale, as she heard where they were, and looked nervously at George; who could not forbear smiling, as he begged they would be under no apprehensions.

"Yes! gentlemen," said the Baron, "circ.u.mstances in early life made me regard mental disease as the most fearful of all. I observed its victims struggling between reason and insanity; goaded on by the ignorance of empirics, and the harsh treatment of those about them, until light fled the tortured brain, and madness directed its every impulse. You, gentlemen, are English travellers, I perceive! In _your_ happy land, where generosity and wealth go hand in hand, there are, I doubt not, many humane inst.i.tutions, where those, who--bowed down by misfortunes, or preyed on by disease--have lost the power to take care of themselves, may find a home, where they may be anxiously tended, and carefully provided for.

"Here we knew not of such things.

"I have said, gentlemen, that chance made me feel a deep interest in these unfortunates. I sunk the greater part of my fortune, in constructing this mansion, trusting that the subscriptions of individuals, would enable me to prosecute the good work.

"In this I was disappointed; but our worthy Viceroy, who took an interest in my plans, laid the matter before the Government, which--as Signer Guiseppe observes--has not only undertaken to support my asylum, but also permits me to preside over the establishment. _That_, gentlemen, is my apartment, with the mignionette boxes in front, and without iron bars in the window; though indeed these very bars are painted, at my suggestion, such a delicate green, that you might not have been aware that they were such.

"This is our first chamber--cheerful and snug. Here are the patients first brought. We indulge them in all their caprices, until we are enabled to decide with certainty, on the fantasy the brain has conjured up. From this room, we take them to the adjacent bed-room, where we administer such remedies as we think the best fitted to restore reason.

"If these fail, we apportion the patient a cell, and consider the case as beyond our immediate relief. We cure, on an average, two-thirds of the cases forwarded to us; and there have been instances of the mind's recovering its tone, after a confinement of some years."

"How many inmates have you in the asylum at present?" said Acme.

"One hundred and thirty-six, eighty-six of whom are males. These are our baths, to which they are daily taken; this the refectory; this the parlatorio, where they see their friends; and now, if the lady is not afraid, we will descend to the court yard, and see my charges."

"There is no fear?" said George.

"Not in the least. Our punishment is so formidable, that few will incur it by being refractory."

"What! then you are obliged to punish them?" said Acme, with a shudder.

"Sometimes, but not often. I will show you what our punishment consists in. You see this room without furniture! Observe the walls and floor; and even the door as it closes. All these are carefully stuffed; and if you walk across the room, there is no sound.

"We cautiously search violent lunatics; who are then dressed in a plain flannel suit, and left alone. It is seldom we have occasion to retain them longer than twenty-four hours. They soon find they cannot injure themselves; their most violent efforts cannot elicit a sound. Their minds become calmed; and when released, they are perfectly quiet, and generally inclined to melancholy."

They descended to the court yard, set apart for the men. Its inmates were pacing it hurriedly; some jabbering to themselves; others with groups round them, to whom they addressed some quickly delivered jargon.

With one or two exceptions, all noticed the entrance of the strangers; and some of them bowed to them, with mock gravity. One man, who wore an old c.o.c.ked hat with a shabby feather, tapped Sir Henry on the shoulder.

"Vous me reconnaissez--Napoleon! votre Empereur!"

He wheeled round, and called for his Mamelukes.

The next moment, a young and interesting looking person came forward, the tears standing in his, eyes, and extended his hand to Acme.

"Give me yours," said he, "as a great favour. I was a painter once in Naples--and I went to Rome--and I loved Gianetta Cantieri!"

A more ludicrous incident now occurred. At and since their entrance, our party had heard what seemed the continued bark of a dog. A man on all fours came forward from behind a group, and with unmeaning face, and nostril snuffing up the wind, imitated to perfection the deep bay of a mastiff.

"That man's peculiarity," observed the Baron, "is an extraordinary one.

He had a cottage near Catania, and had saved some little wealth. His house was one night robbed of all it contained. This misfortune preyed on the man's reason, and he now conceives himself a watch dog. He knows the step of every inmate of the asylum, and only barks at strangers."

From the male court yard, the Baron ushered them to the female, where insanity a.s.sumed a yet more melancholy shape.

A Love Story Part 15

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A Love Story Part 15 summary

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