XVIII

The State Hospital in which I now found myself, the third institution

to which I had been committed, though in many respects above the

average of such institutions, was typical. It commanded a wide view of

a beautiful river and valley. This view I was permitted to enjoy--at

first. Those in charge of the institution which I had just left did not

give my new custodians any detailed account of my case. Their reticence

was, I believe, occasioned by chagrin rather than charity. Tamers of

wild men have as much pride as tamers of wild animals (but

unfortunately less skill) and to admit defeat is a thing not to be

thought of. Though private institutions are prone to shift their

troublesome cases to state institutions, there is too often a

deplorable lack of sympathy and co-operation between them, which, in

this instance, however, proved fortunate for me.

From October 18th until the early afternoon of November 8th, at the

private institution, I had been classed as a raving maniac. The _name_

I had brought upon myself by experimental conduct; the _condition_ had

been aggravated and perpetuated by the stupidity of those in authority

over me. And it was the same experimental conduct on my part, and

stupidity on the part of my new custodians, which gave rise, two weeks

later, to a similar situation. On Friday, November 7th, I was in a

strait-jacket. On November 9th and 10th I was apparently as tractable

as any of the twenty-three hundred patients in the State

Hospital--conventionally clothed, mild mannered, and, seemingly, right

minded. On the 9th, the day after my arrival, I attended a church

service held at the hospital. My behavior was not other than that of

the most pious worshipper in the land. The next evening, with most

exemplary deportment, I attended one of the dances which are held every

fortnight during the winter. Had I been a raving maniac, such

activities would have led to a disturbance; for maniacs, of necessity,

disregard the conventions of both pious and polite society. Yet, on

either of these days, had I been in the private institution which I had

recently left, I should have occupied a cell and worn a strait-jacket.

The assistant superintendent, who received me upon my arrival, judged

me by my behavior. He assigned me to one of two connecting wards--the

best in the hospital--where about seventy patients led a fairly

agreeable life. Though no official account of my case had accompanied

my transfer, the attendant who had acted as escort and guard had

already given an attendant at the State Hospital a brief account of my

recent experiences. Yet when this report finally reached the ears of

those in authority, they wisely decided not to transfer me to another

ward so long as I caused no trouble where I was. Finding myself at last

among friends, I lost no time in asking for writing and drawing

materials, which had so rudely been taken from me three weeks earlier.

My request was promptly granted. The doctors and attendants treated me

kindly and I again began to enjoy life. My desire to write and draw had

not abated. However, I did not devote my entire time to those pursuits,

for there were plenty of congenial companions about. I found pleasure

in talking--more pleasure by far than others did in listening. In fact

I talked incessantly, and soon made known, in a general way, my scheme

for reforming institutions, not only in my native State, but, of

course, throughout the world, for my grandiose perspective made the

earth look small. The attendants had to bear the brunt of my loquacity,

and they soon grew weary. One of them, wishing to induce silence,

ventured to remark that I was so "crazy" I could not possibly keep my

mouth shut for even one minute. It was a challenge which aroused my

fighting spirit.

"I'll show you that I can stop talking for a whole day," I said. He

laughed, knowing that of all difficult tasks this which I had imposed

upon myself was, for one in my condition, least likely of

accomplishment. But I was as good as my boast. Until the same hour the

next day I refused to speak to anyone. I did not even reply to civil

questions; and, though my silence was deliberate and good-natured, the

assistant physician seemed to consider it of a contumacious variety,

for he threatened to transfer me to a less desirable ward unless I

should again begin to talk.

That day of self-imposed silence was about the longest I have ever

lived, for I was under a word pressure sufficient to have filled a

book. Any psychiatrist will admit that my performance was remarkable,

and he will further agree that it was, at least, an indication of a

high degree of self-control. Though I have no desire to prove that at

this period I was not in an abnormal condition, I do wish to show that

I had a degree of self-control that probably would have enabled me to

remain in the best ward at this institution had I not been intent

--abnormally intent, of course, and yet with a high degree of

deliberation--upon a reformative investigation. The crest of my wave of

elation had been reached early in October. It was now (November) that

the curve representing my return to normality should have been

continuous and diminishing. Instead, it was kept violently

fluctuating--or at least its fluctuations were aggravated--by the

impositions of those in charge of me, induced sometimes, I freely

admit, by deliberate and purposeful transgressions of my own. My

condition during my three weeks of exile just ended, had been, if

anything, one of milder excitement than that which had obtained

previously during the first seven weeks of my period of elation. And my

condition during the two weeks I now remained in the best ward in the

State Hospital was not different from my condition during the preceding

three weeks of torture, or the succeeding three weeks of abuse and

privation, except in so far as a difference was occasioned by the

torture and privation themselves.

Though I had long intended to effect reforms in existing methods of

treatment, my reckless desire to investigate violent wards did not

possess me until I myself had experienced the torture of continued

confinement in one such ward before coming to this state institution.

It was simple to deduce that if one could suffer such abuses as I had

while a patient in a private institution--nay, in two private

institutions--brutality must exist in a state hospital also. Thus it

was that I entered the State Hospital with a firm resolve to inspect

personally every type of ward, good and bad.

But I was in no hurry to begin. My recent experience had exhausted me,

and I wished to regain strength before subjecting myself to another

such ordeal. This desire to recuperate controlled my conduct for a

while, but its influence gradually diminished as life became more and

more monotonous. I soon found the good ward entirely too polite. I

craved excitement--action. And I determined to get it regardless of

consequences; though I am free to confess I should not have had the

courage to proceed with my plan had I known what was in store for me.

About this time my conservator called to see me. Of course, I told him

all about my cruel experiences at the private institution. My account

surprised and distressed him. I also told him that I knew for a fact

that similar conditions existed at the State Hospital, as I had heard

convincing rumors to that effect. He urged me to behave myself and

remain in the ward where I was, which ward, as I admitted, was all that

one could desire--provided one had schooled himself to desire that sort

of thing.

The fact that I was under lock and key and behind what were virtually

prison bars in no way gave me a sense of helplessness. I firmly

believed that I should find it easy to effect my escape and reach home

for the Thanksgiving Day celebration. And, furthermore, I knew that,

should I reach home, I should not be denied my portion of the good

things to eat before being returned to the hospital. Being under the

spell of an intense desire to investigate the violent ward, I concluded

that the time for action had come. I reasoned, too, that it would be

easier and safer to escape from that ward--which was on a level with

the ground--than from a ward three stories above it. The next thing I

did was to inform the attendants (not to mention several of the

patients) that within a day or two I should do something to cause my

removal to it. They of course did not believe that I had any idea of

deliberately inviting such a transfer. My very frankness disarmed them.

On the evening of November 21st, I went from room to room collecting

all sorts of odds and ends belonging to other patients. These I

secreted in my room. I also collected a small library of books,

magazines and newspapers. After securing all the booty I dared, I

mingled with the other patients until the time came for going to bed.

The attendants soon locked me in my junk shop and I spent the rest of

the night setting it in disorder. My original plan had been to

barricade the door during the night, and thus hold the doctors and

attendants at bay until those in authority had accepted my ultimatum,

which was to include a Thanksgiving visit at home. But before morning I

had slightly altered my plan. My sleepless night of activity had made

me ravenously hungry, and I decided that it would be wiser not only to

fill my stomach, but to lay by other supplies of food before submitting

to a siege. Accordingly I set things to rights and went about my

business the next morning as usual. At breakfast I ate enough for two

men, and put in my pockets bread enough to last for twenty-four hours

at least. Then I returned to my room and at once barricaded the door.

My barricade consisted of a wardrobe, several drawers which I had

removed from the bureau, and a number of books--among them "Paradise

Lost" and the Bible. These, with conscious satisfaction, I placed in

position as a keystone. Thus the floor space between the door and the

opposite wall of the room was completely filled. My roommate, a young

fellow in the speechless condition in which I had been during my period

of depression, was in the room with me. This was accidental. It was no

part of my plan to hold him as a hostage, though I might finally have

used him as a pawn in the negotiations, had my barricade resisted the

impending attack longer than it did.

It was not long before the attendants realized that something was

wrong. They came to my door and asked me to open it. I refused, and

told them that to argue the point would be a waste of time. They tried

to force an entrance. Failing in that, they reported to the assistant

physician, who soon appeared. At first he parleyed with me. I

good-naturedly, but emphatically, told him that I could not be talked

out of the position I had taken; nor could I be taken out of it until I

was ready to surrender, for my barricade was one that would surely

hold. I also announced that I had carefully planned my line of action

and knew what I was about. I complimented him on his hitherto tactful

treatment of me, and grandiloquently--yet sincerely--thanked him for

his many courtesies. I also expressed entire satisfaction with the past

conduct of the attendants. In fact, on part of the institution I put

the stamp of my approval. "But," I said, "I know there are wards in

this hospital where helpless patients are brutally treated; and I

intend to put a stop to these abuses at once. Not until the Governor of

the State, the judge who committed me, and my conservator come to this

door will I open it. When they arrive, we'll see whether or not

patients are to be robbed of their rights and abused."

My speech was made through a screen transom over the door. For a few

minutes the doctor continued his persuasive methods, but that he should

even imagine that I would basely recede from my high and mighty

position only irritated me the more.

"You can stand outside that door all day if you choose," I said. "I

won't open it until the three men I have named appear. I have prepared

for a siege; and I have enough food in this room to keep me going for a

day anyway."

Realizing at last that no argument would move me, he set about forcing

an entrance. First he tried to remove the transom by striking it with a

stout stick. I gave blow for blow and the transom remained in place. A

carpenter was then sent for, but before he could go about his work one

of the attendants managed to open the door enough to thrust in his arm

and shove aside my barricade. I did not realize what was being done

until it was too late to interfere. The door once open, in rushed the

doctor and four attendants. Without ceremony I was thrown upon the bed,

with two or three of the attacking force on top of me. Again I was

choked, this time by the doctor. The operation was a matter of only a

moment. But before it was over I had the good fortune to deal the

doctor a stinging blow on the jaw, for which (as he was about my own

age and the odds were five to one) I have never felt called upon to

apologize.

Once I was subdued, each of the four attendants attached himself to a

leg or an arm and, under the direction and leadership of the doctor, I

was carried bodily through two corridors, down two flights of stairs,

and to the violent ward. My dramatic exit startled my fellow-patients,

for so much action in so short a time is seldom seen in a quiet ward.

And few patients placed in the violent ward are introduced with so

impressive an array of camp-followers as I had that day.

All this to me was a huge joke, with a good purpose behind it. Though

excited I was good-natured and, on the way to my new quarters, I said

to the doctor: "Whether you believe it or not, it's a fact that I'm

going to reform these institutions before I'm done. I raised this

rumpus to make you transfer me to the violent ward. What I want you to

do now is to show me the worst you've got."

"You needn't worry," the doctor said. "You'll get it."

He spoke the truth.

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