Part 51 (1/2)
When I arrived in town I was much worse, but did not wait more than an hour. I took my place in a coach which did not go to the town near which we resided; for I had inquired and found that coach was full, and I did not choose to wait another day. The coach in which I took my place went within forty miles of the vicarage, and I intended to post across the country. The next evening I arrived at the point of separation, and taking out my portmanteau, ordered a chaise, and set off for what once had been my home. I could hardly hold my head up, I was so ill, and I lay in a corner of the chaise, in a sort of dream, kept from sleeping from intense pain in the forehead and temples.
It was about nine o'clock at night, when we were in a dreadful jolting road, the shocks proceeding from which gave me agonising pain, that the chaise was stopped by two men, who dragged me out on the gra.s.s. One stood over me, while the other rifled the chaise. The post-boy, who appeared a party to the transaction, remained quietly on his horse, and as soon as they had taken my effects, turned round and drove off. They then rifled my person, taking away everything that I had, leaving me nothing but my trowsers and s.h.i.+rt. After a short consultation, they ordered me to walk on in the direction in which we had been proceeding in the chaise, and to hasten as fast as I could, or they would blow my brains out. I complied with their request, thinking myself fortunate to have escaped so well. I knew that I was still thirty miles at least from the vicarage; but ill as I was, I hoped to be able to reach it on foot. I walked during the remainder of the night, but I got on but slowly. I reeled from one side of the road to the other, and occasionally sat down to rest. Morning dawned, and I perceived habitations not far from me. I staggered on in my course.
The fever now raged in me, my head was splitting with agony, and I tottered to a bank near a small neat cottage, on the side of the road.
I have a faint recollection of some one coming to me and taking my hand, but nothing further; and it was not till many months afterwards, that I became acquainted with the circ.u.mstances which I now relate. It appears that the owner of the cottage was a half-pay lieutenant in the army, who had sold out on account of his wounds. I was humanely taken into his house, laid on a bed, and a surgeon requested to come to me immediately.
I had now lost all recollection, and who I was they could not ascertain. My pockets were empty, and it was only by the mark on my linen that they found that my name was Simple. For three weeks I remained in a state of alternate stupor and delirium. When the latter came on, I raved of Lord Privilege, O'Brien, and Celeste. Mr Selwin, the officer who had so kindly a.s.sisted me, knew that Simple was the patronymic name of Lord Privilege, and he immediately wrote to his lords.h.i.+p, stating that a young man of the name of Simple, who, in his delirium called upon him and Captain O'Brien, was lying in a most dangerous state in his house, and, that as he presumed. I was a relative of his lords.h.i.+p's, he had deemed it right to apprise him of the fact.
My uncle, who knew that it must be me, thought this too favourable an opportunity, provided I should live, not to have me in his power. He wrote to say that he would be there in a day or two; at the same time thanking Mr Selwin for his kind attention to his poor nephew, and requesting that no expense might be spared. When my uncle arrived, which he did in his own chariot, the crisis of the fever was over; but I was still in a state of stupor arising from extreme debility. He thanked Mr Selwin for his attention, which he said he was afraid was of little avail, as I was every year becoming more deranged; and he expressed his fears that it would terminate in chronic lunacy--”His poor father died in the same state,” continued my uncle, pa.s.sing his hand across his eyes, as if much affected. ”I have brought my physician with me, to see if he can be moved. I shall not be satisfied unless I am with him night and day.”
The physician (who was my uncle's valet) took me by the hand, felt my pulse, examined my eyes, and p.r.o.nounced that it would be very easy to move me, and that I should recover sooner in a more airy room. Of course, Mr Selwin raised no objections, putting down all to my uncle's regard for me; and my clothes were put on me, as I lay in a state of insensibility, and I was lifted into the chariot. It is most wonderful that I did not die from being thus taken out of my bed in such a state, but it pleased Heaven that it should be otherwise. Had such an event taken place, it would probably have pleased my uncle much better than my surviving. When I was in the carriage, supported by the pseudo-physician, my uncle again thanked Mr Selwin, begged that he would command his interest, wrote a handsome check for the surgeon who had attended me, and getting into the carriage, drove off with me still in a state of insensibility--that is, I was not so insensible, but I think I felt I had been removed, and I heard the rattling of the wheels; but my mind was so uncollected, and I was in a state of such weakness, that I could not feel a.s.sured of it for a minute.
For some days afterwards, for I recollect nothing about the journey, I found myself in bed in a dark room, and my arms confined. I recalled my senses, and by degrees was able to recollect all that had occurred, until I laid down by the roadside. Where was I? The room was dark, I could distinguish nothing; that I had attempted to do myself some injury, I took for granted, or my arms would not have been secured. I had been in a fever and delirious, I supposed, and had now recovered.
I had been in a reverie for more than an hour, wondering why I was left alone, when the door of the apartment opened. ”Who is there?” inquired I.
”Oh! you've come to yourself again,” said a gruff voice; ”then I'll give you a little daylight.”
He took down a shutter which covered the whole of the window, and a flood of light poured in, which blinded me. I shut my eyes, and by degrees admitted the light until I could bear it. I looked at the apartment: the walls were bare and white-washed. I was on a truckle bed. I looked at the window--it was closed up with iron bars. ”Why, where am I?” inquired I of the man, with alarm.
”Where are you?” replied he; ”why, in Bedlam!”
CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR.
As...o...b..IEN SAID, IT'S A LONG LANE THAT HAS NO TURNING--I AM RESCUED, AND HAPPINESS POURS IN UPON ME AS FAST AS MISERY BEFORE OVERWHELMED ME.
The shock was too great--I fell back on my pillow insensible. How long I lay, I know not, but when I recovered, the keeper was gone, and I found a jug of water and some bread by the side of the bed. I drank the water, and the effect it had upon me was surprising. I felt that I could get up, and I rose: my arms had been unpinioned during my swoon.
It was about noon that the medical people, attended by the keepers and others, came into my apartment.
”Is he quite quiet?”
”O Lord! yes, sir, as quiet as a lamb,” replied the man who had before entered.
I then spoke to the medical gentleman, begging him to tell why, and how, I had been brought here. He answered mildly and soothingly, saying that I was there at the wish of my friends, and that every care would be taken of me; that he was aware that my paroxysms were only occasional, and that, during the time that I was quiet, I should have every indulgence that could be granted, and that he hoped that I soon should be perfectly well, and be permitted to leave the hospital. I replied by stating who I was, and how I had been taken ill. The doctor shook his head, advised me to lie down as much as possible, and then quitted me to visit the other patients.
As I afterwards discovered, my uncle had had me confined upon the plea that I was a young man, who was deranged with an idea that his name was Simple, and that he was the heir to the t.i.tle and estates; that I was very troublesome at times, forcing my way into his house and insulting the servants, but in every other respect was harmless; that my paroxysms generally ended in a violent fever, and that it was more from the fear of my coming to some harm, than from any ill-will towards the poor young man, that he wished me to remain in the hospital, and be taken care of.
The reader may at once perceive the art of this communication: I, having no idea why I was confined, would of course continue to style myself by my true name; and as long as I did this, so long would I be considered in a deranged state. The reader must not therefore be surprised when I tell him, that I remained in Bedlam for one year and eight months. The doctor called upon me for two or three days, and finding me quiet, ordered me to be allowed books, paper, and ink, to amuse myself; but every attempt at explanation was certain to be the signal for him to leave my apartment. I found, therefore, not only by him, but from the keeper, who paid no attention to anything I said, that I had no chance of being listened to, or of obtaining my release.
After the first month, the doctor came to me no more: I was a quiet patient, and he received the report of the keeper. I was sent there with every necessary doc.u.ment to prove that I was mad; and, although a very little may establish a case of lunacy, it requires something very strong indeed, to prove that you are in your right senses. In Bedlam I found it impossible. At the same time I was well treated, was allowed all necessary comforts, and such amus.e.m.e.nt as could be obtained from books, etcetera. I had no reason to complain of the keeper--except that he was too much employed to waste his time in listening to what he did not believe. I wrote several letters to my sister and to O'Brien during the first two or three months, and requested the keeper to put them in the post. This he promised to do, never refusing to take the letters; but, as I afterwards found out, they were invariably destroyed. Yet I still bore up with the hopes of release for some time; but the anxiety relative to my sister, when I thought of her situation, my thoughts of Celeste and of O'Brien, sometimes quite overcame me; then, indeed, I would almost become frantic, and the keeper would report that I had had a paroxysm. After six months I became melancholy, and I wasted away. I no longer attempted to amuse myself, but sat all day with my eyes fixed upon vacancy. I no longer attended to my person; I allowed my beard to grow--my face was never washed, unless mechanically, when ordered by the keeper; and, if I was not mad, there was every prospect of my soon becoming so. Life pa.s.sed away as a blank--I had become indifferent to everything--I noted time no more--the change of seasons was unperceived--even the day and the night followed without my regarding them.
I was in this unfortunate situation, when one day the door was opened, and, as had been often the custom during my imprisonment, visitors were going round the establishment, to indulge their curiosity, in witnessing the degradation of their fellow-creatures, or to offer their commiseration. I paid no heed to them, not even casting up my eyes.
”This young man,” said the medical gentleman who accompanied the party, ”has entertained the strange idea that his name is Simple, and that he is the rightful heir to the t.i.tle and property of Lord Privilege.”
One of the visitors came up to me, and looked me in the face. ”And so he is,” cried he, to the doctor, who looked with astonishment. ”Peter, don't you know me?” I started up. It was General O'Brien. I flew into his arms, and burst into tears.
”Sir,” said General O'Brien, leading me to the chair, and seating me upon it, ”I tell you that _is_ Mr Simple, the nephew of Lord Privilege; and, I believe the heir to the t.i.tle. If, therefore, his a.s.sertion of such being the case, is the only proof of his insanity, he is illegally confined. I am here, a foreigner, and a prisoner on parole; but I am not without friends. My Lord Belmore,” said he, turning to another of the visitors who had accompanied him, ”I pledge you my honour that what I state is true; and I request you will immediately demand the release of this poor young man.”
”I a.s.sure you, sir, that I have Lord Privilege's letter,” observed the doctor.