JOHN P. BACON, OF LANSINGBURGH.
Bacon is wronged, being held a slave to hard labor.
First saw Bacon in Ida Hill Lunatic Asylum, March 29, 1860, bound to a
chair in the hall near the dead-house; heard visitors say to him, "how
old are you Johnny?" "Eighteen," says he.
I was removed from the main house to the incurable one July 3, 1862.
Soon after this he was brought to the same, where he now is, in 1874.
JOHN P. BACON'S TREATMENT AND SUFFERINGS BY WILLIAM ANDERSON.
After Anderson came to the incurable house as attendant, Bacon roomed
with me most of the time, until I left in 1870, and lodged within three
feet of my bed. Here I became intimately acquainted with him. In his
childhood he had the advantages of the sabbath school; could say the
Lord's prayer, and repeat many passages of Scripture correctly, and,
in all probability, was a mild-tempered, well-disposed boy, until he
was led away and tempted by the opposite sex, as many of the young and
rising generation are before they are aware of the danger. Bacon was
a great sufferer from self-abuse. Behold, what a great fire a little
matter kindleth! He became ferocious, uneasy and discontented, unable
to govern his mind and person. He was sent to Utica Asylum; from thence
to where he suffered under the hands of William Anderson and others in
the incurable house of the Troy Asylum.
ANDERSON.
Anderson is a man about six feet high, well proportioned, of uncommon
muscular power. He told me with his own mouth, in 1870, he had been
in the Troy lunatic asylum sixteen years and had not slept out of the
institution one night. (Think you he entered as a patient? I do.) He
has been kept as attendant and bully fighter many years. He was married
to Isabella, the magdalen attendant, and when united it seemed as
though there was nothing so daring or cruel at times that they could
not do. And yet, when my wife came, they seemed so nice and talked so
soft it seemed that butter would not melt in their mouths, as the old
saying is.
The devil says many fine things to bring about his designs and
purposes, so do his children. The Lord keep me from such a government
as the incurable house of the Troy lunatic asylum, and all others that
I know any thing about.
But to my revelation. Bacon's sufferings under Wm. Anderson's cruel
hand.
As I have stated, Bacon lodged within three feet of me, and that for
more than three years, bound every night but one, some times one way,
and sometimes another, with the asylum harness.
Bacon was required to work like a slave under a cruel master, at almost
all kinds of work, from the wheelbarrow to the dirty work of the
chambers, and one winter, night after night and week after week, at
a late hour, he came to the room so wet his shirt would have frozen
if exposed to frost. What now? Anderson puts on his wrists cuffs, AA,
and muff, E, then runs strap, B, through staples that are in A and A,
locking it around his body, as seen in the engraving, then binds him in
bed.
LATER. ANDERSON AGAIN. HABIT A STRONG POWER.
I have seen Bacon at bed-time place on his own wrists cuffs A and A and
stand by his bed waiting for Anderson to come and put on the remainder
of the harness and bind him in bed.
Again, I have seen Anderson many a time whip him upon his naked
flesh, with strap B, till his flesh was red as a piece of raw beef,
and harnessed and put him to bed as heretofore. But, says one, as did
another to me, perhaps he needed whipping. God forbid! No more ought a
lunatic to be whipped, or abused, than the fond mother's infant child
that creeps to and paddles in the water-pail, carelessly left by her
upon her nice carpet.
When I last visited the kitchen of the incurable house in 1874 Bacon
was eating breakfast from off a coal-bin. He is no more luny, but kept
as a slave to do drudgery for the benefit of the stockholders of the
institution at the expense of tax payers in the county of Rensselaer,
if I am rightly informed.
ONE OF THE MANY SUFFERINGS OF GENERAL SCHUYLER, OF WEST TROY.
The General was some seventy years of age; a man of wealth; lived an
unmarried life; to all appearance a man of bad habits. I think his sins
had found him out. He was kept by his respected friends for a long
time, at length his guardian paid $10 per week for his board in the
Troy Asylum. He died one night in an adjoining room to mine before I
left.
I saw him bound at bed-time one night with the accursed harness,
and lashed to the bed, his feet being drawn to the foot round and
made fast; and as the door was soon to be locked, he exclaims: "Mr.
Anderson! Mr. Anderson! how long are you going to keep me here?" "All
night," says Anderson. "Water! water!" "Can't have any," says Anderson;
and locks the door, and leaves the General in bonds.
ISABEL'S TREATMENT TO MALE AND FEMALE PATIENTS.
Isabel, the magdalen woman, could not only bind old men and women, but
the young and strong.
I saw her walk up to a young man by the name of Patrick Donahue; put on
to him the asylum harness. Isabel might have been the devil, for aught
I know, that Donahue was trying to get away from her when he leaped
from the window of the third story; as he said when asked why he did
so, "_I was trying to get away from the devil_."
Again I saw this wonderful female come to the men's hall with a skirt
in her hand; laid hold of Patrick Fitzgerald, a young man; stripped off
his clothes to his shirt, and put on him a skirt. There was no shame in
her; there was no part of a lady in her.
TREATMENT OF THE PATIENT CALLED AUNTA BY ISABEL.
Aunta worked in the dining-room through the day.
Saw Isabel put on Aunta's night-dress, and that consisted of the asylum
harness; then saw Isabel go down stairs night after night with her,
saying to put her in a crib or lock-up. Q. Is not this slavery in the
first degree?
ISABEL'S CRUEL TREATMENT AGAINST MISS LAWN.
I first saw Miss Lawn in the short hall from the head of the stairs;
appeared pleasant and sociable; days passed and I again saw her, but
she was much disfigured; she had lost her beautiful head of hair;
appeared to be in trouble on that account; talked much about it; months
passed on, and I saw her hands bound with the muff, E; not long after
saw her with the whole of the harness on, walking in the hall below me,
where I first saw her.
Next, to add to her torture, Isabel, the magdalen attendant, fastened
her to a window bar in the south hall, where the sun, with all its
meridian heat, beamed in upon her.
Many has been the time since I left the incurable house in 1870, I have
visited it merely to ferret out what I could for the benefit of others,
taking minutes in my diary.
Learned of Wm. Anderson that, in 1873, Miss Lawn, Bridget Hamilton,
Walis and others, to the amount of twenty-two, considered incurable,
had been sent to the western part of New York State to a State Lunatic
Asylum. The Lord have mercy upon them.
The first year I entered the Troy Asylum, I found in the attendant's
room a circular containing the by-laws of the Institution. To me, when
I read it, there did not appear to be any thing objectionable; the
attendants were required to treat their patients kindly. But who knows
they do? Does these twenty-six Governors, under whose direction is this
Institution? If not, they come short, and will be held amenable at the
judgment.
An institution is an institution, and a kingdom is a kingdom.
And when the righteous are in authority the people rejoice; but when
the wicked beareth rule the people mourn.
There is a chapel in the main house of the institution where prayer
is wont to be made. But what is that to one shut out, more than the
passing look of the priests and levites who passed by the wounded man
who went from Jerusalem down to Jericho and fell among thieves; so I
fell among thieves on Ida Hill and was wounded and passed by.
I shall now leave this part of my narrative and speak briefly of the
Vermont State Lunatic Asylum at Brattleborough, and the treatment of a
few of the inmates.
BRATTLEBOROUGH ASYLUM, VT. MY RIDE TO BRATTLEBOROUGH ASYLUM.
In 1843 I visited the Vermont asylum, and little did I then think that
in 1859 I should have to pass through the iron gate leading from Dr.
Rockwell's office and be shut up with thirty-six lunatics in the third
story of that asylum. "Be ye also ready, for ye know not what a day
brings forth."
August 29, 1859, I was partly persuaded by my friends and in part
compelled, by others, to go to Brattleborough asylum to undergo a
course of medical treatment. From this time up to 1870 no person saw a
smile on my countenance. In addition to my own spiritual troubles and
weakness of body, to be snatched from my home and locked in with such a
crew was enough to break one's heart or make many crazy.
The day was warm and fine; had a fine shower. After brother B. and
myself were seated in the vehicle in came Esq. Warren who volunteered
his services. Weak as I was I had no pains or aches until they were
brought on by the treatment I received in the asylums. We rode forty
miles the first day, the Esquire kindly holding a shade over me to keep
off the heat of the sun. Going through Bennington, soon we arrived
at the top of the Green mountain, where I laid down waiting for
refreshment in the Fox hotel, in the neighborhood where I preached in
the summer of 1841, while attending school at Bennington. Paul verily
thought he was doing God's service when he was persecuting the church;
his mind changed. After trying to serve the Lord many years I verily
thought I should be forever lost, and was unhappy ten years and more.
A mistake is no sin, though we suffer by it. But to my story; after
we left the hotel we proceeded slowly onward, and when the heavens
blackened and the rain descended, we hauled into a barn by the wayside.
After the shower we continued our journey onward, and, as is common to
nature, the esquire had occasion to leave the wagon; we halted. Here,
I thought, was a chance to elope and shun the dreaded asylum, but my
better judgment forbade it on account of the weakness of my body, and I
sat in the wagon. After the esquire returned we made our way onward and
arrived in a village some eight or ten miles from Brattleborough. Here,
in the hotel, we staid. Supper being over, I was shown to my bed by
my guides and the landlord who says "I sleep under this room, if any
thing is wanting." Two beds in the room, the esquire pushed his against
the door. I lay with B., did not sleep sound; was not a strong believer
in dreams, but here I saw, in a vision or dream, the bottomless pit, as
I thought, while unconscious of all else around me. The unbeliever may
argue, there is no place of torment "where the worm dieth not and the
fire is not quenched," but Christ told his disciples to say, "he that
believeth not shall be damned."
WHAT I SAW IN MY VISION DESCRIBED.
Here, as I was lying within a few miles of the great and popular
institution, Vermont asylum, here I saw an awful pit below. Naught but
the inner side did I see; it was made of fire-brick as it appeared to
me, round at the top, broad as the eye could extend, the depth was the
same as the breadth at the top, running to a point below. Cast one
beast into such a pit and where is the bottom for his foot? Fill this
to the brim and one torments the other. I awoke from my visionary
state and the sun was shining through the window from the east. Soon I
was on my way to that earthly hell, Vermont asylum, similar to the Troy
asylum, that place of torment and slave depot.
Soon I entered the doctor's office; soon he grabbed my hat with his
heavy paw says, "take off your hat"; soon came John White into the
doctor's office says, "come," taking me by the arm, and locked me in
the third story with thirty-six beast-like men, while tears gushed from
my streaming eyes.
I shall say but little of my treatment, let it suffice to say, the
worst I was used was from attendant White, he kicked me severely when
I was a little too slow to suit him when walking out. This I had to
do with some two hundred men, bull-dogs and attendants, with clubs in
hand. Here, I contracted the catarrh and rheumatism by his showering me
with cold water in the month of November, night after night.
On this hall I became acquainted with Atkins, whom I have designated
as the lunatic barber. I will name a few others on this hall; Atkins,
Mircells, an old man; a boy called Mecheum, Joel Swain, a Mr. Reed,
John Eycleshymer, from Pittstown.
In this hall I was kept during the four months, lodged in the
south-east room with from two to three patients, with thirty-six on the
hall through the day.
SUFFERINGS OF MECHEUM THE BOY. PROVERBS.
My son, keep my words, and lay up my commandments with thee, that
they may keep thee from the strange woman, from the stranger which
flattereth with her words.
Unto you, O men! I call, and my voice is to the sons of man.
Oh, ye simple, understand wisdom, and ye foolish, be ye of an
understanding heart.
Mecheum came to the asylum after I entered it, roomed with me, was
showered in cold water till he became like a skeleton, sat beside me at
the table, sometimes refused to eat; attendant pulled his hair at the
table to make him eat, and caused a running sore; saw his wound dressed.
If Mecheum, Bacon, Scott and other young persons whom I have seen
in lunatic asylums, had shunned their seducers, they might have been
rejoicing in health, and shunned the fires of an asylum hell.
My opportunity to know the secret workings of this institution was
limited, only four months stay; not being changed from house to house
and room to room as in the Troy asylum. I know we had small potatoes
and cheap food. Asylums are asylums.
THE YOUNG MR. REED.
Roomed on another hall; knew but little of his treatment, but I know he
was showered as severely as Mecheum; became pale and poor; could barely
walk to his room after pouring four pails of cold water on his head, no
alternative, the rattan lay above his head, and he in the hands of his
attendant and J. White.
JOEL SWAIN.
Joel was a young man some twenty-two years of age; he was peaceable and
quiet; assisted White to lead a blind man and scrubbing the floor. He
once made a wooden false key to our room. I asked if he expected to
get out: "Yes, some time," said he, "I am going back there some time,
if the Lord will." The attendant made a mistake, and kept one of my
shirts, sending one marked Joel Swain. Swain is not Swan, yet a Swan
may be a little goosey.
JOHN EYCLESHYMER, OF PITTSTOWN.
Eycleshymer came to the asylum in 1859; think he might justly be
classed with those spoken of without the kingdom. His habits were bad,
and, no doubt, were the cause of his being in this lunatic hell.
For me to undertake to describe this asylum fully would be useless; to
say the least it is a monster, and answers to the bottomless pit, I saw
in my vision; beneath my window was a pit or yard, with from fifteen to
twenty men; some bound; some up, and some down; some with naught but
their shirt, and some with none--burnt to the quick by the rays of the
sun. In this asylum hell I learn, by hearsay, there were five hundred
patients, besides the bull-dog. I suppose the club attendants were
reckoned in the number, at least the lunatic barber was, most assuredly.
The first night in this asylum I watered my couch with my tears,
groaning with groans that could not be uttered; naught but air to
encircle in my arms, and no dear wife, thought I, to smooth my pillow.
During my four months' stay at Brattleborough, my only friend, W.
Robertson, visited me, and I whispered in his ear and told him they
were killing me, and I wanted to go home. On the 29th of November
Brother B. came, while tears of joy and sorrow were streaming from both
my eyes. He asked me if I would like to go home. We were soon seated in
the coach, and up we rise the Green mountain, and we stopped for the
night; and now we are seated in a cutter; and now we are at the Fox
Hotel, again waiting for refreshments; and now the 30th I am at Brother
B.'s at bed-time; and now at home, sweet home, November, 1859; there
is no place like home! In this asylum I was a private patient, my wife
and brother paid $2 per week; in Troy Asylum the county paid $5 per
week, if I am rightly informed. If Brattleborough Institution made $1
per week on my board, what did the stock company of the Troy Asylum
make keeping me and others on shank beef more than nine years in the
incurable house.
1. I answer, they wrong tax payers.
2. They wrong the poor.
Lastly, they wrong themselves.
Money is the root of all evil, and I fear the prayers of many
stockholders connected with lunatic asylums are like the prayers of an
aged doctor in Vermont, who said to me, in times of health: "I wish
there were more sick." Said I: "Doctor, don't pray for me."
TROY LUNATIC ASYLUM INCURABLE HOUSE.
In this house I lay more than nine years, like persons at home; many a
time nigh unto death.
In the summer of 1870, I had a long fit of sickness. My wife, my
brother B., and brother J. were sent for, and informed I could not live
long. During this sickness I was very weak; and, strange as it may
seem, it is nevertheless true, my bowels became indisposed, and moved
not for thirty-two days. I was under the treatment of Dr. Lomax. As the
cool weather came on, I finally recovered. As I gradually grew strong
in body, my mind strengthened. The cloud that hung o'er my mind, during
my captivity, gradually disappeared. The sweet singing of the birds was
again music to my ears. All nature, which had been shrouded in darkness
to me, seemed now to praise the great Creator and gladden my heart.
After O'Donnel destroyed the Bible in the main house, familiar passages
of Scripture seemed to rush upon my mind as though I was reading them.
I will give one. Rev. chap. ii, verse 17: "He that hath an ear, let him
hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches. To him that overcometh,
will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white
stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving
he that receiveth it." Most of all, this verse seemed to encourage
me. My spirits revived, and not a cloud has gathered o'er my mind
since. I became talkative, cheerful, and happy. After I had been in the
asylum more than ten years, without having an almanac, in 1870, I gave
the steward a note with the exact time I entered to a day, saying it
would be ten years and six months the 29th of September, and that is
to-morrow. I never lost time but once, to my knowledge. I always tried
to remember what day of the week the month came in on, then I could say
thirty days hath September, and so on, as my mother learnt me when a
boy.
After I was delivered from the spiritual mistake, and happy, I sought
every opportunity to reason with Dr. Lomax, knowing I must show myself
a sane man in his judgment, or stay in the asylum. Previous to this, I
did not talk with the doctor. I began on Scripture reasoning, for here
my mind ran from a boy. He is a Greek scholar. I asked him if Emmanuel
was a Greek word. I asked some other Scripture questions. After a
time, he waived the subject, saying he was a doctor; I must ask some
clergyman. We had some pleasant interviews, but I perceived he wanted
me to do the talking, and that upon pleasing temporal matters, such
as telling anecdotes. This I could do, for I was jovial as a hungry
pig squealing for his dinner. I mind one. A Dutchman, who had spent
a fortune by intemperance, after which becoming a good and temperate
man, says: "I know more than any Dutchman in town." "How is that?" says
doctor or Haunse, who were standing by. "Can't you furstawn, Haunse? I
have found out that I am a fool."
Again, a funny joke on the doctor. Going into his office: "Good
morning, doctor," said I. "Doctor, do you know where I can get a
calve's rennet or a cod-fish to grease my hair?" I asked the doctor
how he found me, when I first began to talk with him. He said:
"Reasonable." Brother B. has come for me, this 13th day of October,
1870. "Good-bye, doctor; I'm going home--I'm going home."