“You are led a step or two and seated, the shoulder-cloth is taken
off, another put on, the first over it; another is folded round the
head; your feet are already in the wooden pattens; you are wished
health; you return the salute, rise, and are conducted by both arms
to the first or outer chamber, where the concluding act takes
place. The platform round the chamber is raised and divided by low
balustrades into little compartments, where the couches of repose
are arranged, so that while having the uninterrupted view all
round, parties or families may be by themselves. This is the time
and place for meals. The bather, having reached this apartment, is
conducted to the edge of the platform, to which there is only one
high step. You drop the wooden patten, and on the matting a towel
is spread, anticipating your footfall. You now recline on a couch
in the form of the letter W elongated, and, as you rest on it, the
weight is everywhere directly supported. Every tendon, every muscle
is relaxed—the mattress fitting, as it were, into the skeleton.
There is total inaction, and the body appears to be suspended.”
We shall not easily forget the sensations we ourselves experienced on
first reclining on such a couch, after emerging from the Turkish bath
(as revived by Dr. Barter at his far-famed hydropathic establishment
near Blarney), enjoying a luxurious, balmy, and quiet repose, followed
by an elasticity of body and mind such as we had never before felt.
[28] We must here extract from a note in Mr. Urquhart’s pamphlet the
following description of the feelings induced by reclining, after the
bath, on these delicious couches:—
“On trouve alors des lits delicieux; on s’y repose avec volupté, on
y eprouve un calme et un bîenetre difficile à exprimer. C’est une
sorte de régénération dont le charme est encore augmenté par des
boissons restaurantes et surtout par un café exquis.”—D’Ohsson, t.
vii., p. 63.