The Complete Works of Nellie Bly: Ten Days in a Mad-House, Around the World in Seventy-Two Days and More

by Nellie Bly

"It's rather a bad-looking shawl," I said. "Well, some people would get along better if they were not so proud," said Miss Scott. "People on charity should not expect anything and should not complain."

After this, I began to have a spaner regard for the ability of doctors than I ever had before, and a greater one for myself. I felt sure now that no doctor could tell whether people were insane or not, so long as the case was not violent.

drink the stuff honored by the name of tea,

it was still as cold as when I went to bed, and had reduced me too, to the temperature of an iceberg,

It was a terrible task to play insane before this young man, and only a girl can sympathize with me in my position.

Every half-hour or hour they would walk heavily down the halls, their boot-heels resounding like the march of a private of dragoons, and take a look at every patient.

Then the ambulance-gong, as it brought in more unfortunates, sounded as a knell to life and liberty.

"I thought so," he said to himself. Then turning to me, he asked: "What do these voices say?" "Well, I do not listen to them always. But sometimes, very often, they talk about Nellie Brown, and then on other subjects that do not interest me half so much," I answered, truthfully.

a potatoe,

starting to Quayle under the stress, strain, and cold....

in search of a missing girl, for I was made take down the shawl repeatedly, and after they looked at me they would say, "I don't know her," "or [sic], "she is not the one," for which I was secretly thankful.

I heard him say my case was hopeless.

The morning brought many reporters. How untiring they are in their efforts to get something new.

of the gates in great style on toward the Insane Asylum and victory! The patients made no move to escape. The odor of the male attendant's breath was enough to make one's head swim.

At one end of the cabin was a span bunk in such a condition that I had to hold my nose when I went near it. A sick girl was put on it.

the other was dressed with some attempt at style. They were coarse, massive women, and expectorated tobacco juice about on the floor in a manner more skillful than charming.

As the wagon was rapidly driven through the beautiful lawns up to the asylum my feelings of satisfaction at having attained the object of my work were greatly dampened by the look of distress on the faces of my companions. Poor women, they had no hopes of a speedy delivery. They were being driven to a prison, through no fault of their own, in all probability for life.

We passed one low building, and the stench was so horrible that I was compelled to hold my breath, and I mentally decided that it was the kitchen.

"Visitors are not allowed on this road." I don't think the sign would be necessary if they once tried the road, especially on a warm day.

my heart gave a sharp twinge. Pronounced insane by four expert doctors and shut up behind the unmerciful bolts and bars of a madhouse! Not to be confined alone, but to be a companion, day and night, of senseless, chattering lunatics;

span

This seems to be her go-to word, like an even more spartan word for "spartan".

gently but firmly pleading her case. All her remarks were as rational as any I ever heard, and I thought no good physician could help but be impressed with her story.

my heart ached for her! I determined then and there that I would try by every means to make my mission of benefit to my suffering sisters; that I would show how they are committed without ample trial.

"You are German; speak to her for me." Miss Grupe proved to be one of those people who are ashamed of their nationality, and she refused, saying she could understand but few worlds of her mother tongue.

words

Thus was Mrs. Louise Schanz consigned to the asylum without a chance of making herself understood. Can such carelessness be excused, I wonder, when it is so easy to get an interpreter?

But here was a woman taken without her own consent from the free world to an asylum and there given no chance to prove her sanity. Confined most probably for life behind asylum bars, without even being told in her language the why and wherefore. Compare this with a criminal, who is given every chance to prove his innocence. Who would not rather be a murderer and take the chance for life than be declared insane, without hope of escape?

was again left to the last. I had by this time determined to act as I do when free, except that I would refuse to tell who I was or where my home was.

He gave the nurse more attention than he did me, and asked her six questions to every one of me. Then he wrote my fate in the book before him. I said, "I am not sick and I do not want to stay here. No one has a right to shut me up in this manner."

I struck a few notes, and the untuned response sent a grinding chill through me. "How horrible," I exclaimed, turning to a nurse, Miss McCarten, who stood at my side. "I never touched a piano as much out of tune." "It's a pity of you," she said, spitefully; "we'll have to get one made to order for you."

These benches, which were perfectly straight, and just as uncomfortable, would hold five people, although in almost every instance six were crowded on them.

Everything was spotlessly clean and I thought what good workers the nurses must be to keep such order. In a few days after how I laughed at my own stupidity to think the nurses would work.

Here again came a long halt directly before an open window. "How very imprudent for the attendants to keep these thinly clad women standing here in the cold," said Miss Neville. I looked at the poor crazy captives shivering, and added, emphatically, "It's horribly brutal."

One fat woman made a rush, and jerking up several saucers from those around her emptied their contents into her own saucer. Then while holding to her own bowl she lifted up another and drained its contents at one gulp. This she did to a second bowl in shorter time than it takes to tell it.

"You must force the food down," she said, "else you will be sick, and who know but what, with these surroundings, you may go crazy. To have a good brain the stomach must be cared for."

I was at last past seeing or speaking,

think I experienced some of the sensations of a drowning person as they dragged me, gasping, shivering and quaking, from the tub. For once I did look insane.

Imagine plunging that sick girl into a cold bath when it made me, who have never been ill, shake as if with ague.

"You are in a public institution now, and you can't expect to get anything. This is charity, and you should be thankful for what you get." "But the city pays to keep these places up," I urged, "and pays people to be kind to the unfortunates brought here." "Well, you don't need to expect any kindness here, for you won't get it," she said, and she went out and closed the door.

Every door is locked separately and the windows are heavily barred, so that escape is impossible. In the one building alone there are, I think Dr. Ingram told me, some three hundred women. They are locked, one to ten to a room. It is impossible to get out unless these doors are unlocked. A fire is not improbable, but one of the most likely occurrences. Should the building burn, the jailers or nurses would never think of releasing their crazy patients.

"The nurses are expected to open the doors," he said. "But you know positively that they would not wait to do that," I said, "and these women would burn to death." He sat silent, unable to contradict my assertion. "Why don't you have it changed?" I asked. "What can I do?" he replied. "I offer suggestions until my brain is tired, but what good does it do? What would you do?" he asked, turning to me, the proclaimed insane girl.

I never was confined in any institution, except boarding-school, in my life."

Pittsburg, Pa.,

Pittsburgh!

"There is only one place I know of where they have those locks," he said, sadly, "and that is at Sing Sing." The inference is conclusive. I laughed very heartily over the implied accusation,

sent to the bathroom, where there were two coarse towels. I watched crazy patients who had the most dangerous eruptions all over their faces dry on the towels and then saw women with clean skins turn to use them.

the hair of forty-five women was combed with one patient, two nurses, and six combs. As I saw some of the sore heads combed I thought this was another dose I had not bargained for.

the noise kept me awake. It's dreadful! My nerves were so unstrung before I came here, and I fear I shall not be able to stand the strain."

I asked for unbuttered bread and was given it. I cannot tell you of anything which is the same dirty, black color. It was hard, and in places nothing more than dried dough.

It is not the attendants who keep the institution so nice for the poor patients, as I had always thought, but the patients, who do it all themselves-even to cleaning the nurses' bedrooms and caring for their clothing.

When I again referred to it, he said that Miss Grady said I only brought a book there; and that I had no pencil. I was provoked, and insisted that I had, whereupon I was advised to fight against the imaginations of my brain.

I eagerly watched the passing lines and a thrill of horror crept over me at the sight. Vacant eyes and meaningless faces, and their tongues uttered meaningless nonsense. One crowd passed and I noted by nose as well as eyes, that they were fearfully dirty.

there came another sight I can never forget: A long cable rope fastened to wide leather belts, and these belts locked around the waists of fifty-two women. At the end of the rope was a heavy iron cart, and in it two women-one nursing a sore foot, another screaming at some nurse, saying: "You beat me and I shall not forget it. You want to kill me," and then she would sob and cry. The women "on the rope," as the patients call it, were each busy on their individual freaks. Some were yelling all the while.