XV

A few hours later, without having witnessed anything of particular

significance, except as it befell myself, I was transferred to my old

ward. The superintendent, who had ordered this rehabilitation, soon

appeared, and he and I had a satisfactory talk. He gave me to

understand that he himself would in future look after my case, as he

realized that his assistant lacked the requisite tact and judgment to

cope with one of my temperament--and with that, my desire to telephone

my conservator vanished.

Now no physician would like to have his wings clipped by a patient,

even indirectly, and without doubt the man's pride was piqued as his

incompetence was thus made plain. Thereafter, when he passed through

the ward, he and I had frequent tilts. Not only did I lose no

opportunity to belittle him in the presence of attendants and patients,

but I even created such opportunities; so that before long he tried to

avoid me whenever possible. But it seldom was possible. One of my chief

amusements consisted in what were really one-sided interviews with him.

Occasionally he was so unwise as to stand his ground for several

minutes, and his arguments on such occasions served only to keep my

temper at a vituperative heat. If there were any epithets which I

failed to apply to him during the succeeding weeks of my association

with him, they must have been coined since. The uncanny admixture of

sanity displayed by me, despite my insane condition, was something this

doctor could not comprehend. Remarks of mine, which he should have

discounted or ignored, rankled as the insults of a sane and free man

would have done. And his blunt and indiscriminate refusal of most of my

requests prolonged my period of mental excitement.

After my return to my old ward I remained there for a period of three

weeks. At that time I was a very self-centred individual. My large and

varied assortment of delusions of grandeur made everything seem

possible. There were few problems I hesitated to attack. With

sufficient provocation I even attacked attendants--problems in

themselves; but such fights as I subsequently engaged in were fights

either for my own rights or the rights of others. Though for a while I

got along fairly well with the attendants and as well as could be

expected with the assistant physician, it soon became evident that

these men felt that to know me more was to love me less. Owing to their

lack of capacity for the work required of them, I was able to cause

them endless annoyance. Many times a day I would tell the attendants

what to do and what not to do, and tell them what I should do if my

requests, suggestions, or orders were not immediately complied with.

For over one year they had seen me in a passive, almost speechless

condition, and they were, therefore, unable to understand my unwonted

aggressions. The threat that I would chastise them for any disobedience

of my orders they looked upon as a huge joke. So it was, until one day

I incontinently cracked that joke against the head of one of them.

It began in this wise: Early in October there was placed in the ward a

man whose abnormality for the most part consisted of an inordinate

thirst for liquor. He was over fifty years of age, well educated,

traveled, refined and of an artistic temperament. Congenial companions

were scarce where I was, and he and I were soon drawn together in

friendship. This man had been trapped into the institution by the

subterfuge of relatives. As is common in such cases, many "white" lies

had been resorted to in order to save trouble for all concerned--that

is, all except the patient. To be taken without notice from one's home

and by a deceitful, though under the circumstances perhaps justifiable

strategy, placed in a ward with fifteen other men, all exhibiting

insanity in varying degrees, is as heartbreaking an ordeal as one can

well imagine. Yet such was this man's experience. A free man one day,

he found himself deprived of his liberty the next, and branded with

what he considered an unbearable disgrace.

Mr. Blank (as I shall call him) was completely unnerved. As he was a

stranger in what I well knew was a strange world, I took him under my

protecting and commodious wing. I did all I could to cheer him up, and

tried to secure for him that consideration which to me seemed

indispensable to his well-being. Patients in his condition had never

been forced, when taking their exercise, to walk about the grounds with

the other patients. At no time during the preceding fourteen months had

I seen a newly committed patient forced to exercise against his will.

One who objected was invariably left in the ward, or his refusal was

reported to the doctor before further action was taken. No sane person

need stretch his imagination in order to realize how humiliating it

would be for this man to walk with a crowd which greatly resembled a

"chain gang." Two by two, under guard, these hostages of misfortune get

the only long walks their restricted liberty allows them. After the one

or two occasions when this man did walk with the gang, I was impressed

with the not wholly unreasonable thought that the physical exercise in

no way compensated for the mental distress which the sense of

humiliation and disgrace caused him to suffer. It was delightfully easy

for me to interfere in his behalf; and when he came to my room, wrought

up over the prospect of another such humiliation and weeping bitterly,

I assured him that he should take his exercise that day when I did. My

first move to accomplish the desired result was to approach, in a

friendly way, the attendant in charge, and ask him to permit my new

friend to walk about the grounds with me when next I went. He said he

would do nothing of the kind--that he intended to take this man when he

took the others. I said, "For over a year I have been in this ward and

so have you, and I have never yet seen a man in Mr. Blank's condition

forced to go out of doors."

"It makes no difference whether you have or not," said the attendant,

"he's going."

"Will you ask the doctor whether Mr. Blank can or cannot walk about the

grounds with my special attendant when I go?"

"No, I won't. Furthermore, it's none of your business."

"If you resort to physical force and attempt to take Mr. Blank with the

other patients, you'll wish you hadn't," I said, as I walked away.

At this threat the fellow scornfully laughed. To him it meant nothing.

He believed I could fight only with my tongue, and I confess that I

myself was in doubt as to my power of fighting otherwise.

Returning to my room, where Mr. Blank was in waiting, I supported his

drooping courage and again assured him that he should be spared the

dreaded ordeal. I ordered him to go to a certain room at the farther

end of the hall and there await developments--so that, should there be

a fight, the line of battle might be a long one. He obeyed. In a minute

or two the attendant was headed for that room. I followed closely at

his heels, still threatening to attack him if he dared so much as lay a

finger on my friend. Though I was not then aware of it, I was followed

by another patient, a man who, though a mental case, had his lucid

intervals and always a loyal heart. He seemed to realize that trouble

was brewing and that very likely I should need help. Once in the room,

the war of words was renewed, my sensitive and unnerved friend standing

by and anxiously looking on.

"I warn you once more," I said, "if you touch Mr. Blank, I'll punch you

so hard you'll wish you hadn't." The attendant's answer was an

immediate attempt to eject Mr. Blank from the room by force. Nothing

could be more automatic than my action at that time; indeed, to this

day I do not remember performing the act itself. What I remember is the

determination to perform it and the subsequent evidence of its having

been performed. At all events I had already made up my mind to do a

certain thing if the attendant did a certain thing. He did the one and

I did the other. Almost before he had touched Mr. Blank's person, my

right fist struck him with great force in, on, or about the left eye.

It was then that I became the object of the attendant's attention--but

not his undivided attention--for as he was choking me, my unsuspected

ally stepped up and paid the attendant a sincere compliment by likewise

choking him. In the scuffle I was forced to the floor. The attendant

had a grip upon my throat. My wardmate had a double grip upon the

attendant's throat. Thus was formed a chain with a weak, if not a

missing, link in the middle. Picture, if you will, an insane man being

choked by a supposedly sane one, and he in turn being choked by a

temporarily sane insane friend of the assaulted one, and you will have

Nemesis as nearly in a nutshell as any mere rhetorician has yet been

able to put her.

That I was well choked is proved by the fact that my throat bore the

crescent-shaped mark of my assailant's thumb nail. And I am inclined to

believe that my rescuer, who was a very powerful man, made a decided

impression on my assailant's throat. Had not the superintendent

opportunely appeared at that moment, the man might soon have lapsed

into unconsciousness, for I am sure my ally would never have released

him until he had released me. The moment the attendant with his one

good eye caught sight of the superintendent the scrimmage ended. This

was but natural, for it is against the code of honor generally

obtaining among attendants, that one should so far forget himself as to

abuse patients in the presence of sane and competent witnesses.

The choking which I had just received served only to limber my vocal

cords. I told the doctor all about the preliminary verbal skirmish and

the needlessness of the fight. The superintendent had graduated at Yale

over fifty years prior to my own graduation, and because of this common

interest and his consummate tact we got along well together. But his

friendly interest did not keep him from speaking his mind upon

occasion, as his words at this time proved. "You don't know," he said,

"how it grieves me to see you--a Yale man--act so like a rowdy."

"If fighting for the rights of a much older man, unable to protect his

own interests, is the act of a rowdy, I'm quite willing to be thought

one," was my reply.

Need I add that the attendant did not take Mr. Blank for a walk that

morning? Nor, so far as I know, was the latter ever forced again to

take his exercise against his will.