"Dr. McFarland, the Superintendent of the Asylum, says she is insane; and
he ought to _know_."
Yes, he ought to know. But, in my opinion, Dr. McFarland, does not know a
sane from an insane person; or else, why does he keep so many in that
Asylum, as sane as himself? And mine is not the first case a court and
jury differed from him in opinion on this subject. He has been so long
conversant with the insane, that he has become a perfect monomaniac on
insanity and in his treatment of the insane. I never saw such inhumanity,
and cruelty, and barbarity, practiced towards the innocent and helpless as
he sanctions and allows in that Asylum. I could write a large volume in
confirmation of this assertion, made up of scenes I myself witnessed,
during my three years' incarceration in that terrible place. The material
is all on hand for such a book, since I kept a secret journal of daily
events, just as they occurred, so that my memory is not my only laboratory
of such truths. And in arranging this matter for a book, I intend to turn
Jacksonville Asylum inside out. That is, I shall report that Asylum from
the standpoint of a patient, and if this book don't prove my assertion
that Dr. McFarland is a monomaniac, I am sure it will prove him to be
something worse. But I claim to defend his heart from the charge of
villainy, and his intellect from imbecility, for I have often said of him,
"Dr. McFarland is the _greatest_ man I ever saw, and he would be the
_best_ if he wasn't _so bad_!"
But this is not the place to make a defence for Dr. McFarland. Let him
stand where his own actions put him, for that is the only proper place for
either superintendent or patient to stand upon. But I will own, God made
him fit for one of his great resplendent luminaries; but Satan has marred
this noble orb, so that now it has some very dark spots on its disk, such
as his patients can behold without the aid of a telescope! Yes, as a
general thing, his patients are not allowed to behold anything else but
these dark spots, while the public are allowed to see nothing except the
splendors of this luminary. And when my telescopic book is in print, the
public may look, or not look, at the scenes behind the curtain, just as
they please. The exact scenes are now fully daguerreotyped on my brain and
heart both, as well as on my manuscript journal. In this volume I am only
allowed to report what relates to myself alone. Therefore I have but
little to say; for as it respects his treatment of me, individually, I
regard him as a practical penitent, and on this basis, I have really
forgiven him. And God only knows what a multitude of sins this man's
repentance has covered! And my Christianity forbids my exposing the sins
of a practical penitent, after having practically forgiven him.
As proof of his penitence, I bring this fact, that it was under his
superintendence, and by his consent alone, that I was permitted to spend
the last nine months of my prison life in writing "The Great Drama." This
book was commenced as an act of self-defence from the charge of insanity,
and this man was the first person in America that ever before allowed me
any right of self-defence. And this act of practical manliness on his
part, awakened, as its response, my full and hearty forgiveness of all the
wrongs he had hitherto heaped upon me; and these wrongs had not been "like
angels visits, few and far between." But I had, in reality, much to
forgive. At least, so thought my personal friends at the Asylum, if their
words echoed their real feelings. Their feelings on this subject were not
unfrequently uttered in very strong language like the following: "If Mrs.
Packard can forgive Dr. McFarland all the wrongs and abuses he has heaped
upon her she must be more than human." And I now have before me a letter
from one who had been for several years an officer in that institution,
from which I will make an extract, as it corroborates this point. She
says, "How the mind wanders back to those dark hours. O, that hated
letter! once presented you by a ----, who delighted to torture those he
could not subdue. Our hearts did pity you, Mrs. Packard. Mrs. Tenny, (now
the wife of the then assistant physician, but my attendant at the time
referred to,) and myself often said, everything was done that could be, to
annihilate and dethrone your reason. Poor child! They had all fled--none
to watch one hour! All I have to say is, if there can be found man or
woman who could endure what you did in that three years, and not become a
raving maniac, they should be canonized."
Yes, God, God alone, saved me from the awful vortex Mr. Packard and Dr.
McFarland had prepared for me--the vortex of oblivion--God has delivered
me from them who were stronger than I, and to his cause, the cause of
oppressed humanity, for which I there suffered so much in its defence, I
do now consecrate my spared intellect, and reason, and moral power.
This "Great Drama," written there, is my great battery, which, in God's
providence, I hope sometime to get rich enough to publish; and it is to
the magnanimity of Dr. McFarland alone, under God, that my thanks are due,
for letting me write this book. He dictated none of it. He allowed me
perfect spiritual liberty, in penning this voluminous literary production
of seven hundred pages; and if ever there was a book written wholly
untrammelled by human dictation, this is the book. But as I said, his
magnanimity, even at the eleventh hour, has, so far as I am concerned,
secured my forgiveness.
But he has been, and I fear still is, a great sinner against others, also;
for, as I have often said, it is my candid opinion, that there were fifty
in that house, as patients, who have no more right to be there than the
Doctor himself. Judging them from their own actions and words, there is no
more evidence of insanity in them, than in Dr. McFarland's words and
actions. He certainly has no scruples about keeping perfectly sane persons
as patients. At first, this was to me an enigma I could not possible
solve. But now I can on the supposition that he don't know a sane from an
insane person, because he has become a monomaniac on this subject, just as
Mr. Packard has on the woman question. The Doctor's insane dogmas are,
first: all people are insane on some points; second: insane persons have
no rights that others are bound to respect.
He has never refused any one's application on the ground of their not
being insane, to my knowledge, but he has admitted many whom he admitted
were not near as insane as the friends who brought them were. He can see
insanity in any one where it will be for his interest to see it. And let
him put any one through the insane treatment he subjects his patients to,
and they are almost certain to manifest some resentment, before the
process is complete. And this natural resentment which his process evokes,
is what he calls their insanity, or rather evidence of it. I saw the
operation of his nefarious system before I had been there long, and I
determined to stand proof against it, by restraining all manifestations of
my resentful feelings, which his insults to me were designed to develop.
And this is his grand failure in my case. He has no capital to make out
his charge upon, so far as my own actions are concerned. No one ever saw
me exhibit the least angry, resentful feelings. I say that to God's grace
alone is this result due. I maintain, his treatment of his patients is
barbarous and criminal in many cases; therefore he shows insanity in his
conduct towards them.
Again, he does not always tell the truth about his patients, nor to his
patients. And this is another evidence of his insanity. I do say, lying
is insanity; and if I can ever be proved to be a liar, by my own words or
actions, I do insist upon it I merit the charge put upon me of monomania,
or insanity. But, speaking the truth, and nothing but the truth, is not
lying, even if people do not believe my assertions. For the truth will
stand without testimony, and in spite of all contradiction. And when one
has once been proved to have lied, they have no claims on us to be
believed, when they do speak the truth. Were I called to prove my
assertion that the Doctor misrepresents, I could do so, by his own letters
to my husband, and my father, now in my possession, and by letters Mr.
Field had from him while I was in the Asylum. For example, why did he
write to Mr. Field that I "was a dangerous patient, not safe to live in
any private family," and then refuse to answer direct questions calling
for evidence in proof on this point, and give as his reason, that he did
not deem it his duty to answer impertinent questions about his patients?
Simply because the assertion was a lie, and had nothing to support or
defend it, in facts, as they existed. These letters abound in
misrepresentations and falsehoods respecting me, and it is no wonder my
friends regarded me as insane, on these representations from the
Superintendent of a State Asylum.
I have every reason to think Dr. McFarland believes, in his heart, that I
am entirely sane; but policy and self-interest has prompted him to deny it
in words, hoping thus to destroy the influence of the sad truths I utter
respecting the character of that institution. A very intelligent employee
in that institution, and one who had, by her position, peculiar advantages
for knowing the real state of feeling towards me in that institution, once
said to me, "Mrs. Packard, I can assure you, that there is not a single
individual in this house who believes you are an insane person; and as for
Dr. McFarland he _knows_ you are not, whatever he may choose to say upon
the subject."
One thing is certain, his actions contradict his words, in this matter.
Would an insane person be employed by him to carry his patients to ride,
and drive the team with a whole load of crazy women, with no one to help
take care of them and the team but herself? And yet Dr. McFarland employed
me to do this very thing fourteen times; and I always came back safely
with them, and never abused my liberty, by dropping a letter into the
post-office, or any thing of the kind, and never abused the confidence
reposed in me in any manner.
Would he give a crazy woman money to go to the city, and make purchases
for herself? And yet he did so by me. Would a crazy woman be employed to
make purchases for the house, and use as a reason for employing her, that
her judgment was superior to any in the house? And yet this is true of me.
Would a crazy woman be employed to cut, fit and make his wife's and
daughter's best dresses, instead of a dressmaker, because she could do
them better, in their opinion, than any dressmaker they could employ? And
yet I was thus employed for several weeks, and for this reason. And would
his wife have had her tailoress consult my judgment, before cutting her
boy's clothes, and give as her reason, that she preferred my judgment and
planning before her own, if I was an insane person? And yet she did.
Would the officials send their employees to me for help, in executing
orders which exceeded the capacity of their own judgment to perform, if
they considered my reason and judgment as impaired by insanity? And yet
this was often the case. Would the remark be often made by the employees
in that institution, that "Mrs. Packard was better fitted to be the matron
of the institution than any one under that roof," if I had been treated
and regarded as an insane person by the officials? And yet this remark was
common there.
No. Dr. McFarland did not treat me as an insane person, until I had been
there four months, when he suddenly changed his programme entirely, by
treating me like an insane person, and ordering the employees to do so to,
which order he could never enforce, except in one single instance, and
this attendant soon after became a lunatic and a tenant of the poor house.
My attendants said they should not treat me as they did the other
patients, if the Doctor did order it.
The reason for this change in the Doctor's treatment, was not because of
any change in my conduct or deportment in any respect, but because I
offended him, by a reproof I gave him for his abuse of his patients,
accompanied by the threat to expose him unless he repented. I gave this
reproof in writing, and retained a copy myself, by hiding it behind my
mirror, between it and the board-back. Several thousand copies of which
are now in circulation. After this event, I was closeted among the
maniacs, and did not step my foot upon the ground again, until I was
discharged, two years and eight months afterwards. When he transferred me
from the best ward to the worst ward, he ordered my attendants to treat me
just as they did their other patients, except to not let me go out of the
ward; although all the others could go to ride and walk, except myself.
Had I not known how to practice the laws of health, this close confinement
would doubtless have been fatal to my good health and strong nerves. But
as it was, both are still retained in full vigor.
My correspondence was henceforth put under the strictest censorship, and
but few of my letters ever went farther than the Doctor's office, and most
of the letters sent to me never came nearer me than his office. When I
became satisfied of this, I stopped writing at all to any one, until I got
an "Under Ground Express" established, through which my mail passed out,
but not in.
One incident I will here mention to show how strictly and vigilantly my
correspondence with the world was watched. There was a patient in my ward
to be discharged ere long, to go to her home near Manteno, and she offered
to take anything to my children, if I chose to send anything by her.
Confident I could not get a letter out through her, without being
detected, I made my daughter some under waists, and embroidered them, for
a present to her from her mother. On the inside of these bleached cotton
double waists, I pencilled a note to her, for her and my own solace and
comfort. I then gave these into the hands of this patient, and she took
them and put them into her bosom saying, "The Doctor shall never see
these." But just as she was leaving the house, the Doctor asked her, if
she had any letter from Mrs. Packard to her children with her? She said
she had not.