A Love Story
"About four months had elapsed previous to my landing in Corfu, and I had
been eight months there; although at the time, I paid little attention
to these circumstances.
"My road lay through an olive grove. I had arrived in its centre, where
a small knoll stretched away on my right; on whose summit, was a white
Greek monastery, backed by some dark cypress trees.
"The moon was shining brightly--dancing on the silver side of the olive
trees--and illuminating the green sward.
"This was smooth and verdant.
"My spirits were more than usually buoyant, when suddenly my pony
stopped.
"I could not conceive the reason.
"I looked before me. Immediately in front of me, was the shattered trunk
of an old olive tree--it had been blasted by lightning--and sitting
quietly at its foot--I saw my own mother, Giorgio! as clearly as I see
you now. I could not be mistaken. She wore the same embroidered vest and
Albanian shawl, as when I had last seen her.
"She conversed with me calmly for many minutes, and--which surprised me
much at the time--I felt no dread, and asked her and answered many
questions.
"She told me I should die early, in a foreign land; and many--many more
things, which I dare not repeat; for I cannot contemplate the
possibility of their being true.
"At the time, I told you I felt composed: without any sense of alarm
or surprise. For many days afterwards, however, I never left my bed
of sickness.
"I told my kinsman all the circumstances, and he discovered beyond a
doubt, that it was on that very day, the twelve-month previous, that my
poor mother had been murdered."
Sir Henry and George tried to smile at Acmé's story, and account for
what she had seen;--but her manner was so impressive, and her ingenious
reasonings--delivered in the most earnest tone--seemed to confute so
entirely all their speculations, that they were at length content to
deem it "wondrous strange."
In the best and wisest of us, there is such a tendency to believe in a
mysterious link, connecting the living and the departed; that a story
of this nature, in exciting our feelings, serves to paralyse our
reasoning faculties, and leaves us half converts, to the doctrines that
we faintly combat.
They looked forth again on the scene. The mountains of Calabria were
frowning on them. The village was far behind--and not a straggling light
marked its situation.
Numberless stars were reflected on the glassy water, whose serenity was
no longer ruffled by wing of sea bird, which long ere now had returned
to its "wave girded nest."
Our party and the watch were the only lingerers on deck.
George wrapped Acmé's silk cloak around her, and then carefully assisted
her in her descent to the cabin.
Chapter XX.
The Mad House.
"And see the mind's convulsion leave it weak."
The land breeze continued to freshen, and the first dawn of morning saw
our party on deck, scanning with near view, the opposite coasts of
Sicily and Italy, as their vessel glided through the Faro of Messina.
Some pilot boats,--how unlike those which greet the homeward-bound
voyager, as he first hails Britain's chalky cliffs--crowded around the
vessel, offering their services to guide it through the strait.
Avarice--one incentive to language--had endowed these Sicilian mariners
with a competent knowledge of English, which they dealt out
vociferously.
As the Captain made his selection, the rejected candidates failed not
to use that familiar English salâm; half the gusto of which is lost,
when used by foreign lip.
On the Calabrian coast, the sea-port town of Reggio wore an unusual air
of bustle and animation.
It was a festa day there; and groups of peasants, in many-coloured
costumes, paced up and down the mole; emitting that joyous hum, which
is the never-failing concomitant of a happy crowd. Passing through
the Faro, the vessel's course lay by the northern coast of Sicily.
The current and wind were alike favourable, as it swept on by Melazzo
and Lascari.
Etna, towering over the lesser mountains, became once more visible; its
summit buried in the clouds of heaven.
On the right, a luminous crimson ring revealed Stromboli, whose fitful
volcano was more than usually active.
The following day our party arrived at Palermo. So pleasurable had been
their voyage, that it was with a feeling akin to regret, that they heard
the rumbling chains of the anchor, rush through the hawse-hole, as
their vessel took her station in the bay.
After going through those wearisome forms, which a foreign sea-port
exacts; and which appear purposely intended, to temper the rapture of
the sea-worn voyager, as he congratulates himself on once more treading
terra firma; our party found themselves the inmates of the English
hotel; and spent the remainder of the day in engaging a cicerone, and in
discussing plans for the morrow.
The morrow came--sunny and cloudless--and the cicerone bowed to the
ground, as he opened the door of the commodious fiacre.
"Where shall I drive to, Sir?"
"What were our plans, George?" said Sir Henry.
"I think," replied George, "that we only formed one plan to change it
for another. Let the cicerone decide for us."
_He,_ nothing loath, accepted the charge; and taking his station on the
box of the carriage, directed the driver.
The carriage first stopped before a large stone building. The bell was
rung--a veteran porter presented himself--and our party entered the
court yard.
"What place is this?" said Delmé.
"This," rejoined his guide, with the true cicerone fluency, "is the
famous lunatic asylum, instituted by the illustrious Baron Pisani. This,
gentlemen, is the Baron!"
Here a benevolent-looking little man with a large nose, took off his
hat.
"So much approved of was his beneficent design, that our noble King, and
our paternal Government, have not only adopted it; but have graciously
permitted the Baron, to continue to preside over that institution, which
he so happily commenced, and which he so refulgently adorns."
During this announcement, the Baron's face flushed with a simple, but
honest pride.
These praises did not to him appear exaggerated; for his intentions had
been of the purest, and in this institution was his whole soul wrapt up.
Acmé became somewhat pale, as she heard where they were, and looked
nervously at George; who could not forbear smiling, as he begged they
would be under no apprehensions.
"Yes! gentlemen," said the Baron, "circumstances in early life made me
regard mental disease as the most fearful of all. I observed its victims
struggling between reason and insanity; goaded on by the ignorance of
empirics, and the harsh treatment of those about them, until light fled
the tortured brain, and madness directed its every impulse. You,
gentlemen, are English travellers, I perceive! In _your_ happy land,
where generosity and wealth go hand in hand, there are, I doubt not,
many humane institutions, where those, who--bowed down by misfortunes,
or preyed on by disease--have lost the power to take care of themselves,
may find a home, where they may be anxiously tended, and carefully
provided for.
"Here we knew not of such things.
"I have said, gentlemen, that chance made me feel a deep interest in
these unfortunates. I sunk the greater part of my fortune, in
constructing this mansion, trusting that the subscriptions of
individuals, would enable me to prosecute the good work.
"In this I was disappointed; but our worthy Viceroy, who took an interest
in my plans, laid the matter before the Government, which--as Signer
Guiseppe observes--has not only undertaken to support my asylum, but
also permits me to preside over the establishment. _That_, gentlemen, is
my apartment, with the mignionette boxes in front, and without iron bars
in the window; though indeed these very bars are painted, at my
suggestion, such a delicate green, that you might not have been aware
that they were such.
"This is our first chamber--cheerful and snug. Here are the patients
first brought. We indulge them in all their caprices, until we are
enabled to decide with certainty, on the fantasy the brain has conjured
up. From this room, we take them to the adjacent bed-room, where we
administer such remedies as we think the best fitted to restore reason.
"If these fail, we apportion the patient a cell, and consider the case as
beyond our immediate relief. We cure, on an average, two-thirds of the
cases forwarded to us; and there have been instances of the mind's
recovering its tone, after a confinement of some years."
"How many inmates have you in the asylum at present?" said Acmé.
"One hundred and thirty-six, eighty-six of whom are males. These are our
baths, to which they are daily taken; this the refectory; this the
parlatorio, where they see their friends; and now, if the lady is not
afraid, we will descend to the court yard, and see my charges."
"There is no fear?" said George.
"Not in the least. Our punishment is so formidable, that few will incur
it by being refractory."
"What! then you are obliged to punish them?" said Acmé, with a shudder.
"Sometimes, but not often. I will show you what our punishment consists
in. You see this room without furniture! Observe the walls and floor;
and even the door as it closes. All these are carefully stuffed; and if
you walk across the room, there is no sound.
"We cautiously search violent lunatics; who are then dressed in a plain
flannel suit, and left alone. It is seldom we have occasion to retain
them longer than twenty-four hours. They soon find they cannot injure
themselves; their most violent efforts cannot elicit a sound. Their
minds become calmed; and when released, they are perfectly quiet, and
generally inclined to melancholy."
They descended to the court yard, set apart for the men. Its inmates
were pacing it hurriedly; some jabbering to themselves; others with
groups round them, to whom they addressed some quickly delivered jargon.
With one or two exceptions, all noticed the entrance of the strangers;
and some of them bowed to them, with mock gravity. One man, who wore an
old cocked hat with a shabby feather, tapped Sir Henry on the shoulder.
"Vous me reconnaissez--Napoleon! votre Empereur!"
He wheeled round, and called for his Mamelukes.
The next moment, a young and interesting looking person came forward,
the tears standing in his, eyes, and extended his hand to Acmé.
"Give me yours," said he, "as a great favour. I was a painter once in
Naples--and I went to Rome--and I loved Gianetta Cantieri!"
A more ludicrous incident now occurred. At and since their entrance,
our party had heard what seemed the continued bark of a dog. A man on
all fours came forward from behind a group, and with unmeaning face,
and nostril snuffing up the wind, imitated to perfection the deep bay
of a mastiff.
"That man's peculiarity," observed the Baron, "is an extraordinary one.
He had a cottage near Catania, and had saved some little wealth. His
house was one night robbed of all it contained. This misfortune preyed
on the man's reason, and he now conceives himself a watch dog. He knows
the step of every inmate of the asylum, and only barks at strangers."
From the male court yard, the Baron ushered them to the female, where
insanity assumed a yet more melancholy shape.
A pale-faced maniac, with quivering frame, and glaring eye-balls,
continued to cry, in a low and piteous tone, "Murder! murder!!
murder!!!"
One woman, reclining on the cold pavement, dandled a straw, and called
it her sweet child; while another hugged a misshapen block of wood to
her bared breast, and deemed it her true love.
A third was on her knees, and at regular intervals, bent down her
shrivelled body, and devoured the gravel beneath her.