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Edgar Allan Poe: The System of Dr. Tarr And Prof. Fether
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Poe
THE SYSTEM OF DR. TARR AND PROF. FETHER
by Edgar Allan Poe
1850
southern provinces of France, my route led me within a few miles of a
certain Maison de Sante or private mad-house, about which I had heard much
in Paris from my medical friends. As I had never visited a place of the
kind, I thought the opportunity too good to be lost; and so proposed to my
travelling companion (a gentleman with whom I had made casual acquaintance a
few days before) that we should turn aside, for an hour or so, and look
through the establishment. To this he objected–pleading haste in the first
place, and, in the second, a very usual horror at the sight of a lunatic. He
begged me, however, not to let any mere courtesy towards himself interfere
with the gratification of my curiosity, and said that he would ride on
leisurely, so that I might overtake him during the day, or, at all events,
during the next. As he bade me good-bye, I bethought me that there might be
some difficulty in obtaining access to the premises, and mentioned my fears
on this point. He replied that, in fact, unless I had personal knowledge of
the superintendent, Monsieur Maillard, or some credential in the way of a
letter, a difficulty might be found to exist, as the regulations of these
private mad-houses were more rigid than the public hospital laws. For
himself, he added, he had, some years since, made the acquaintance of
Maillard, and would so far assist me as to ride up to the door and introduce
me; although his feelings on the subject of lunacy would not permit of his
entering the house.
I thanked him, and, turning from the main road, we entered a grass-grown
by-path, which, in half an hour, nearly lost itself in a dense forest,
clothing the base of a mountain. Through this dank and gloomy wood we rode
some two miles, when the Maison de Sante came in view. It was a fantastic
chateau, much dilapidated, and indeed scarcely tenantable through age and
neglect. Its aspect inspired me with absolute dread, and, checking my horse,
I half resolved to turn back. I soon, however, grew ashamed of my weakness,
and proceeded.
As we rode up to the gate-way, I perceived it slightly open, and the
visage of a man peering through. In an instant afterward, this man came
forth, accosted my companion by name, shook him cordially by the hand, and
begged him to alight. It was Monsieur Maillard himself. He was a portly,
fine-looking gentleman of the old school, with a polished manner, and a
certain air of gravity, dignity, and authority which was very
impressive.
My friend, having presented me, mentioned my desire to inspect the
establishment, and received Monsieur Maillard's assurance that he would show
me all attention, now took leave, and I saw him no more.
When he had gone, the superintendent ushered me into a small and
exceedingly neat parlor, containing, among other indications of refined
taste, many books, drawings, pots of flowers, and musical instruments. A
cheerful fire blazed upon the hearth. At a piano, singing an aria from
Bellini, sat a young and very beautiful woman, who, at my entrance, paused
in her song, and received me with graceful courtesy. Her voice was low, and
her whole manner subdued. I thought, too, that I perceived the traces of
sorrow in her countenance, which was excessively, although to my taste, not
unpleasingly, pale. She was attired in deep mourning, and excited in my
bosom a feeling of mingled respect, interest, and admiration.
I had heard, at Paris, that the institution of Monsieur Maillard was
managed upon what is vulgarly termed the "system of soothing"–that all
punishments were avoided–that even confinement was seldom resorted to–that
the patients, while secretly watched, were left much apparent liberty, and
that most of them were permitted to roam about the house and grounds in the
ordinary apparel of persons in right mind.
Keeping these impressions in view, I was cautious in what I said before
the young lady; for I could not be sure that she was sane; and, in fact,
there was a certain restless brilliancy about her eyes which half led me to
imagine she was not. I confined my remarks, therefore, to general topics,
and to such as I thought would not be displeasing or exciting even to a
lunatic. She replied in a perfectly rational manner to all that I said; and
even her original observations were marked with the soundest good sense, but
a long acquaintance with the metaphysics of mania, had taught me to put no
faith in such evidence of sanity, and I continued to practise, throughout
the interview, the caution with which I commenced it.
Presently a smart footman in livery brought in a tray with fruit, wine,
and other refreshments, of which I partook, the lady soon afterward leaving
the room. As she departed I turned my eyes in an inquiring manner toward my
host.
"No," he said, "oh, no–a member of my family–my niece, and a most
accomplished woman."
"I beg a thousand pardons for the suspicion," I replied, "but of course
you will know how to excuse me. The excellent administration of your affairs
here is well understood in Paris, and I thought it just possible, you
know-
"Yes, yes–say no more–or rather it is myself who should thank you for the
commendable prudence you have displayed. We seldom find so much of
forethought in young men; and, more than once, some unhappy contre-temps has
occurred in consequence of thoughtlessness on the part of our visitors.
While my former system was in operation, and my patients were permitted the
privilege of roaming to and fro at will, they were often aroused to a
dangerous frenzy by injudicious persons who called to inspect the house.
Hence I was obliged to enforce a rigid system of exclusion; and none
obtained access to the premises upon whose discretion I could not rely."
"While your former system was in operation!" I said, repeating his
words–"do I understand you, then, to say that the 'soothing system' of which
I have heard so much is no longer in force?"
"It is now," he replied, "several weeks since we have concluded to
renounce it forever."
"Indeed! you astonish me!"
"We found it, sir," he said, with a sigh, "absolutely necessary to return
to the old usages. The danger of the soothing system was, at all times,
appalling; and its advantages have been much overrated. I believe, sir, that
in this house it has been given a fair trial, if ever in any. We did every
thing that rational humanity could suggest. I am sorry that you could not
have paid us a visit at an earlier period, that you might have judged for
yourself. But I presume you are conversant with the soothing practice–with
its details."
"Not altogether. What I have heard has been at third or fourth hand."
"I may state the system, then, in general terms, as one in which the
patients were menages-humored. We contradicted no fancies which entered the
brains of the mad. On the contrary, we not only indulged but encouraged
them; and many of our most permanent cures have been thus effected. There is
no argument which so touches the feeble reason of the madman as the
argumentum ad absurdum. We have had men, for example, who fancied themselves
chickens. The cure was, to insist upon the thing as a fact–to accuse the
patient of stupidity in not sufficiently perceiving it to be a fact–and thus
to refuse him any other diet for a week than that which properly appertains
to a chicken. In this manner a little corn and gravel were made to perform
wonders."
"But was this species of acquiescence all?"
"By no means. We put much faith in amusements of a simple kind, such as
music, dancing, gymnastic exercises generally, cards, certain classes of
books, and so forth. We affected to treat each individual as if for some
ordinary physical disorder, and the word 'lunacy' was never employed. A
great point was to set each lunatic to guard the actions of all the others.
To repose confidence in the understanding or discretion of a madman, is to
gain him body and soul. In this way we were enabled to dispense with an
expensive body of keepers."
"And you had no punishments of any kind?"
"None."
"And you never confined your patients?"
"Very rarely. Now and then, the malady of some individual growing to a
crisis, or taking a sudden turn of fury, we conveyed him to a secret cell,
lest his disorder should infect the rest, and there kept him until we could
dismiss him to his friends–for with the raging maniac we have nothing to do.
He is usually removed to the public hospitals."
"And you have now changed all this–and you think for the better?"
"Decidedly. The system had its disadvantages, and even its dangers. It is
now, happily, exploded throughout all the Maisons de Sante of France."
"I am very much surprised," I said, "at what you tell me; for I made sure
that, at this moment, no other method of treatment for mania existed in any
portion of the country."
"You are young yet, my friend," replied my host, "but the time will
arrive when you will learn to judge for yourself of what is going on in the
world, without trusting to the gossip of others. Believe nothing you hear,
and only one-half that you see. Now about our Maisons de Sante, it is clear
that some ignoramus has misled you. After dinner, however, when you have
sufficiently recovered from the fatigue of your ride, I will be happy to
take you over the house, and introduce to you a system which, in my opinion,
and in that of every one who has witnessed its operation, is incomparably
the most effectual as yet devised."
"Your own?" I inquired–"one of your own invention?"
"I am proud," he replied, "to acknowledge that it is–at least in some
measure."
In this manner I conversed with Monsieur Maillard for an hour or two,
during which he showed me the gardens and conservatories of the place.
"I cannot let you see my patients," he said, "just at present. To a
sensitive mind there is always more or less of the shocking in such
exhibitions; and I do not wish to spoil your appetite for dinner. We will
dine. I can give you some veal a la Menehoult, with cauliflowers in veloute
sauce–after that a glass of Clos de Vougeot–then your nerves will be
sufficiently steadied."
At six, dinner was announced; and my host conducted me into a large salle
a manger, where a very numerous company were assembled- twenty-five or
thirty in all. They were, apparently, people of rank-certainly of high
breeding–although their habiliments, I thought, were extravagantly rich,
partaking somewhat too much of the ostentatious finery of the vielle cour. I
noticed that at least two-thirds of these guests were ladies; and some of
the latter were by no means accoutred in what a Parisian would consider good
taste at the present day. Many females, for example, whose age could not
have been less than seventy were bedecked with a profusion of jewelry, such
as rings, bracelets, and earrings, and wore their bosoms and arms shamefully
bare. I observed, too, that very few of the dresses were well made–or, at
least, that very few of them fitted the wearers. In looking about, I
discovered the interesting girl to whom Monsieur Maillard had presented me
in the little parlor; but my surprise was great to see her wearing a hoop
and farthingale, with high-heeled shoes, and a dirty cap of Brussels lace,
so much too large for her that it gave her face a ridiculously diminutive
expression. When I had first seen her, she was attired, most becomingly, in
deep mourning. There was an air of oddity, in short, about the dress of the
whole party, which, at first, caused me to recur to my original idea of the
"soothing system," and to fancy that Monsieur Maillard had been willing to
deceive me until after dinner, that I might experience no uncomfortable
feelings during the repast, at finding myself dining with lunatics; but I
remembered having been informed, in Paris, that the southern provincialists
were a peculiarly eccentric people, with a vast number of antiquated
notions; and then, too, upon conversing with several members of the company,
my apprehensions were immediately and fully dispelled.
The dining-room itself, although perhaps sufficiently comfortable and of
good dimensions, had nothing too much of elegance about it. For example, the
floor was uncarpeted; in France, however, a carpet is frequently dispensed
with. The windows, too, were without curtains; the shutters, being shut,
were securely fastened with iron bars, applied diagonally, after the fashion
of our ordinary shop-shutters. The apartment, I observed, formed, in itself,
a wing of the chateau, and thus the windows were on three sides of the
parallelogram, the door being at the other. There were no less than ten
windows in all.
The table was superbly set out. It was loaded with plate, and more than
loaded with delicacies. The profusion was absolutely barbaric. There were
meats enough to have feasted the Anakim. Never, in all my life, had I
witnessed so lavish, so wasteful an expenditure of the good things of life.
There seemed very little taste, however, in the arrangements; and my eyes,
accustomed to quiet lights, were sadly offended by the prodigious glare of a
multitude of wax candles, which, in silver candelabra, were deposited upon
the table, and all about the room, wherever it was possible to find a place.
There were several active servants in attendance; and, upon a large table,
at the farther end of the apartment, were seated seven or eight people with
fiddles, fifes, trombones, and a drum. These fellows annoyed me very much,
at intervals, during the repast, by an infinite variety of noises, which
were intended for music, and which appeared to afford much entertainment to
all present, with the exception of myself.
Upon the whole, I could not help thinking that there was much of the
bizarre about every thing I saw–but then the world is made up of all kinds
of persons, with all modes of thought, and all sorts of conventional
customs. I had travelled, too, so much, as to be quite an adept at the nil
admirari; so I took my seat very coolly at the right hand of my host, and,
having an excellent appetite, did justice to the good cheer set before
me.
The conversation, in the meantime, was spirited and general. The ladies,
as usual, talked a great deal. I soon found that nearly all the company were
well educated; and my host was a world of good-humored anecdote in himself.
He seemed quite willing to speak of his position as superintendent of a
Maison de Sante; and, indeed, the topic of lunacy was, much to my surprise,
a favorite one with all present. A great many amusing stories were told,
having reference to the whims of the patients.
"We had a fellow here once," said a fat little gentleman, who sat at my
right,–"a fellow that fancied himself a tea-pot; and by the way, is it not
especially singular how often this particular crotchet has entered the brain
of the lunatic? There is scarcely an insane asylum in France which cannot
supply a human tea-pot. Our gentleman was a Britannia–ware tea-pot, and was
careful to polish himself every morning with buckskin and whiting."
"And then," said a tall man just opposite, "we had here, not long ago, a
person who had taken it into his head that he was a donkey- which
allegorically speaking, you will say, was quite true. He was a troublesome
patient; and we had much ado to keep him within bounds. For a long time he
would eat nothing but thistles; but of this idea we soon cured him by
insisting upon his eating nothing else. Then he was perpetually kicking out
his heels-so-so-"
"Mr. De Kock! I will thank you to behave yourself!" here interrupted an
old lady, who sat next to the speaker. "Please keep your feet to yourself!
You have spoiled my brocade! Is it necessary, pray, to illustrate a remark
in so practical a style? Our friend here can surely comprehend you without
all this. Upon my word, you are nearly as great a donkey as the poor
unfortunate imagined himself. Your acting is very natural, as I live."
"Mille pardons! Ma'm'selle!" replied Monsieur De Kock, thus addressed–"a
thousand pardons! I had no intention of offending. Ma'm'selle
Laplace–Monsieur De Kock will do himself the honor of taking wine with
you."
Here Monsieur De Kock bowed low, kissed his hand with much ceremony, and
took wine with Ma'm'selle Laplace.
"Allow me, mon ami," now said Monsieur Maillard, addressing myself,
"allow me to send you a morsel of this veal a la St. Menhoult- you will find
it particularly fine."
At this instant three sturdy waiters had just succeeded in depositing
safely upon the table an enormous dish, or trencher, containing what I
supposed to be the "monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen
ademptum." A closer scrutiny assured me, however, that it was only a small
calf roasted whole, and set upon its knees, with an apple in its mouth, as
is the English fashion of dressing a hare.
"Thank you, no," I replied; "to say the truth, I am not particularly
partial to veal a la St.–what is it?–for I do not find that it altogether
agrees with me. I will change my plate, however, and try some of the
rabbit."
There were several side-dishes on the table, containing what appeared to
be the ordinary French rabbit–a very delicious morceau, which I can
recommend.
"Pierre," cried the host, "change this gentleman's plate, and give him a
side-piece of this rabbit au-chat."
"This what?" said I.
"This rabbit au-chat."
"Why, thank you–upon second thoughts, no. I will just help myself to some
of the ham."
There is no knowing what one eats, thought I to myself, at the tables of
these people of the province. I will have none of their rabbit au-chat–and,
for the matter of that, none of their cat-au-rabbit either.
"And then," said a cadaverous looking personage, near the foot of the
table, taking up the thread of the conversation where it had been broken
off,–"and then, among other oddities, we had a patient, once upon a time,
who very pertinaciously maintained himself to be a Cordova cheese, and went
about, with a knife in his hand, soliciting his friends to try a small slice
from the middle of his leg."
"He was a great fool, beyond doubt," interposed some one, "but not to be
compared with a certain individual whom we all know, with the exception of
this strange gentleman. I mean the man who took himself for a bottle of
champagne, and always went off with a pop and a fizz, in this fashion."
Here the speaker, very rudely, as I thought, put his right thumb in his
left cheek, withdrew it with a sound resembling the popping of a cork, and
then, by a dexterous movement of the tongue upon the teeth, created a sharp
hissing and fizzing, which lasted for several minutes, in imitation of the
frothing of champagne. This behavior, I saw plainly, was not very pleasing
to Monsieur Maillard; but that gentleman said nothing, and the conversation
was resumed by a very lean little man in a big wig.
"And then there was an ignoramus," said he, "who mistook himself for a
frog, which, by the way, he resembled in no little degree. I wish you could
have seen him, sir,"–here the speaker addressed myself–"it would have done
your heart good to see the natural airs that he put on. Sir, if that man was
not a frog, I can only observe that it is a pity he was not. His croak
thus–o-o-o-o-gh–o-o-o-o-gh! was the finest note in the world–B flat; and
when he put his elbows upon the table thus–after taking a glass or two of
wine–and distended his mouth, thus, and rolled up his eyes, thus, and winked
them with excessive rapidity, thus, why then, sir, I take it upon myself to
say, positively, that you would have been lost in admiration of the genius
of the man."
"I have no doubt of it," I said.
"And then," said somebody else, "then there was Petit Gaillard, who
thought himself a pinch of snuff, and was truly distressed because he could
not take himself between his own finger and thumb."
"And then there was Jules Desoulieres, who was a very singular genius,
indeed, and went mad with the idea that he was a pumpkin. He persecuted the
cook to make him up into pies–a thing which the cook indignantly refused to
do. For my part, I am by no means sure that a pumpkin pie a la Desoulieres
would not have been very capital eating indeed!"
"You astonish me!" said I; and I looked inquisitively at Monsieur
Maillard.
"Ha! ha! ha!" said that gentleman–"he! he! he!–hi! hi! hi!–ho! ho!
ho!–hu! hu! hu! hu!–very good indeed! You must not be astonished, mon ami;
our friend here is a wit–a drole–you must not understand him to the
letter."
"And then," said some other one of the party,–"then there was Bouffon Le
Grand–another extraordinary personage in his way. He grew deranged through
love, and fancied himself possessed of two heads. One of these he maintained
to be the head of Cicero; the other he imagined a composite one, being
Demosthenes' from the top of the forehead to the mouth, and Lord Brougham's
from the mouth to the chin. It is not impossible that he was wrong; but he
would have convinced you of his being in the right; for he was a man of
great eloquence. He had an absolute passion for oratory, and could not
refrain from display. For example, he used to leap upon the dinner-table
thus, and–and-"
Here a friend, at the side of the speaker, put a hand upon his shoulder
and whispered a few words in his ear, upon which he ceased talking with
great suddenness, and sank back within his chair.
"And then," said the friend who had whispered, "there was Boullard, the
tee-totum. I call him the tee-totum because, in fact, he was seized with the
droll but not altogether irrational crotchet, that he had been converted
into a tee-totum. You would have roared with laughter to see him spin. He
would turn round upon one heel by the hour, in this manner–so-
Here the friend whom he had just interrupted by a whisper, performed an
exactly similar office for himself.
"But then," cried the old lady, at the top of her voice, "your Monsieur
Boullard was a madman, and a very silly madman at best; for who, allow me to
ask you, ever heard of a human tee-totum? The thing is absurd. Madame
Joyeuse was a more sensible person, as you know. She had a crotchet, but it
was instinct with common sense, and gave pleasure to all who had the honor
of her acquaintance. She found, upon mature deliberation, that, by some
accident, she had been turned into a chicken-cock; but, as such, she behaved
with propriety. She flapped her wings with prodigious effect–so–so–and, as
for her crow, it was delicious! Cock-a-doodle-doo!–cock-a-doodle-doo!-
cock-a-doodle-de-doo-dooo-do-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
"Madame Joyeuse, I will thank you to behave yourself!" here interrupted
our host, very angrily. "You can either conduct yourself as a lady should
do, or you can quit the table forthwith-take your choice."
The lady (whom I was much astonished to hear addressed as Madame Joyeuse,
after the description of Madame Joyeuse she had just given) blushed up to
the eyebrows, and seemed exceedingly abashed at the reproof. She hung down
her head, and said not a syllable in reply. But another and younger lady
resumed the theme. It was my beautiful girl of the little parlor.
"Oh, Madame Joyeuse was a fool!" she exclaimed, "but there was really
much sound sense, after all, in the opinion of Eugenie Salsafette. She was a
very beautiful and painfully modest young lady, who thought the ordinary
mode of habiliment indecent, and wished to dress herself, always, by getting
outside instead of inside of her clothes. It is a thing very easily done,
after all. You have only to do so–and then so–so–so–and then so–so–so–and
then so–so–and then-
"Mon dieu! Ma'm'selle Salsafette!" here cried a dozen voices at once.
"What are you about?–forbear!–that is sufficient!–we see, very plainly, how
it is done!–hold! hold!" and several persons were already leaping from their
seats to withhold Ma'm'selle Salsafette from putting herself upon a par with
the Medicean Venus, when the point was very effectually and suddenly
accomplished by a series of loud screams, or yells, from some portion of the
main body of the chateau.
My nerves were very much affected, indeed, by these yells; but the rest
of the company I really pitied. I never saw any set of reasonable people so
thoroughly frightened in my life. They all grew as pale as so many corpses,
and, shrinking within their seats, sat quivering and gibbering with terror,
and listening for a repetition of the sound. It came again–louder and
seemingly nearer–and then a third time very loud, and then a fourth time
with a vigor evidently diminished. At this apparent dying away of the noise,
the spirits of the company were immediately regained, and all was life and
anecdote as before. I now ventured to inquire the cause of the
disturbance.
"A mere bagtelle," said Monsieur Maillard. "We are used to these things,
and care really very little about them. The lunatics, every now and then,
get up a howl in concert; one starting another, as is sometimes the case
with a bevy of dogs at night. It occasionally happens, however, that the
concerto yells are succeeded by a simultaneous effort at breaking loose,
when, of course, some little danger is to be apprehended."
"And how many have you in charge?"
"At present we have not more than ten, altogether."
"Principally females, I presume?"
"Oh, no–every one of them men, and stout fellows, too, I can tell
you."
"Indeed! I have always understood that the majority of lunatics were of
the gentler sex."
"It is generally so, but not always. Some time ago, there were about
twenty-seven patients here; and, of that number, no less than eighteen were
women; but, lately, matters have changed very much, as you see."
"Yes–have changed very much, as you see," here interrupted the gentleman
who had broken the shins of Ma'm'selle Laplace.
"Yes–have changed very much, as you see!" chimed in the whole company at
once.
"Hold your tongues, every one of you!" said my host, in a great rage.
Whereupon the whole company maintained a dead silence for nearly a minute.
As for one lady, she obeyed Monsieur Maillard to the letter, and thrusting
out her tongue, which was an excessively long one, held it very resignedly,
with both hands, until the end of the entertainment.
"And this gentlewoman," said I, to Monsieur Maillard, bending over and
addressing him in a whisper–"this good lady who has just spoken, and who
gives us the cock-a-doodle-de-doo–she, I presume, is harmless–quite
harmless, eh?"
"Harmless!" ejaculated he, in unfeigned surprise, "why–why, what can you
mean?"
"Only slightly touched?" said I, touching my head. "I take it for granted
that she is not particularly not dangerously affected, eh?"
"Mon dieu! what is it you imagine? This lady, my particular old friend
Madame Joyeuse, is as absolutely sane as myself. She has her little
eccentricities, to be sure–but then, you know, all old women–all very old
women–are more or less eccentric!"
"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure–and then the rest of these ladies and
gentlemen-"
"Are my friends and keepers," interupted Monsieur Maillard, drawing
himself up with hauteur,–"my very good friends and assistants."
"What! all of them?" I asked,–"the women and all?"
"Assuredly," he said,–"we could not do at all without the women; they are
the best lunatic nurses in the world; they have a way of their own, you
know; their bright eyes have a marvellous effect;- something like the
fascination of the snake, you know."
"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure! They behave a little odd, eh?- they
are a little queer, eh?–don't you think so?"
"Odd!–queer!–why, do you really think so? We are not very prudish, to be
sure, here in the South–do pretty much as we please–enjoy life, and all that
sort of thing, you know-"
"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure."
And then, perhaps, this Clos de Vougeot is a little heady, you know- a
little strong–you understand, eh?"
"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure. By the bye, Monsieur, did I understand
you to say that the system you have adopted, in place of the celebrated
soothing system, was one of very rigorous severity?"
"By no means. Our confinement is necessarily close; but the treatment–the
medical treatment, I mean–is rather agreeable to the patients than
otherwise."
"And the new system is one of your own invention?"
"Not altogether. Some portions of it are referable to Professor Tarr, of
whom you have, necessarily, heard; and, again, there are modifications in my
plan which I am happy to acknowledge as belonging of right to the celebrated
Fether, with whom, if I mistake not, you have the honor of an intimate
acquaintance."
"I am quite ashamed to confess," I replied, "that I have never even heard
the names of either gentleman before."
"Good heavens!" ejaculated my host, drawing back his chair abruptly, and
uplifting his hands. "I surely do not hear you aright! You did not intend to
say, eh? that you had never heard either of the learned Doctor Tarr, or of
the celebrated Professor Fether?"
"I am forced to acknowledge my ignorance," I replied; "but the truth
should be held inviolate above all things. Nevertheless, I feel humbled to
the dust, not to be acquainted with the works of these, no doubt,
extraordinary men. I will seek out their writings forthwith, and peruse them
with deliberate care. Monsieur Maillard, you have really–I must confess
it–you have really–made me ashamed of myself!"
And this was the fact.
"Say no more, my good young friend," he said kindly, pressing my
hand,–"join me now in a glass of Sauterne."
We drank. The company followed our example without stint. They
chatted–they jested–they laughed–they perpetrated a thousand absurdities–the
fiddles shrieked–the drum row-de-dowed–the trombones bellowed like so many
brazen bulls of Phalaris–and the whole scene, growing gradually worse and
worse, as the wines gained the ascendancy, became at length a sort of
pandemonium in petto. In the meantime, Monsieur Maillard and myself, with
some bottles of Sauterne and Vougeot between us, continued our conversation
at the top of the voice. A word spoken in an ordinary key stood no more
chance of being heard than the voice of a fish from the bottom of Niagra
Falls.
"And, sir," said I, screaming in his ear, "you mentioned something before
dinner about the danger incurred in the old system of soothing. How is
that?"
"Yes," he replied, "there was, occasionally, very great danger indeed.
There is no accounting for the caprices of madmen; and, in my opinion as
well as in that of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether, it is never safe to permit
them to run at large unattended. A lunatic may be 'soothed,' as it is
called, for a time, but, in the end, he is very apt to become obstreperous.
His cunning, too, is proverbial and great. If he has a project in view, he
conceals his design with a marvellous wisdom; and the dexterity with which
he counterfeits sanity, presents, to the metaphysician, one of the most
singular problems in the study of mind. When a madman appears thoroughly
sane, indeed, it is high time to put him in a straitjacket."
"But the danger, my dear sir, of which you were speaking, in your own
experience–during your control of this house–have you had practical reason
to think liberty hazardous in the case of a lunatic?"
"Here?–in my own experience?–why, I may say, yes. For example:–no very
long while ago, a singular circumstance occurred in this very house. The
'soothing system,' you know, was then in operation, and the patients were at
large. They behaved remarkably well-especially so, any one of sense might
have known that some devilish scheme was brewing from that particular fact,
that the fellows behaved so remarkably well. And, sure enough, one fine
morning the keepers found themselves pinioned hand and foot, and thrown into
the cells, where they were attended, as if they were the lunatics, by the
lunatics themselves, who had usurped the offices of the keepers."
"You don't tell me so! I never heard of any thing so absurd in my
life!"
"Fact–it all came to pass by means of a stupid fellow–a lunatic- who, by
some means, had taken it into his head that he had invented a better system
of government than any ever heard of before–of lunatic government, I mean.
He wished to give his invention a trial, I suppose, and so he persuaded the
rest of the patients to join him in a conspiracy for the overthrow of the
reigning powers."
"And he really succeeded?"
"No doubt of it. The keepers and kept were soon made to exchange places.
Not that exactly either–for the madmen had been free, but the keepers were
shut up in cells forthwith, and treated, I am sorry to say, in a very
cavalier manner."
"But I presume a counter-revolution was soon effected. This condition of
things could not have long existed. The country people in the
neighborhood-visitors coming to see the establishment–would have given the
alarm."
"There you are out. The head rebel was too cunning for that. He admitted
no visitors at all–with the exception, one day, of a very stupid-looking
young gentleman of whom he had no reason to be afraid. He let him in to see
the place–just by way of variety,–to have a little fun with him. As soon as
he had gammoned him sufficiently, he let him out, and sent him about his
business."
"And how long, then, did the madmen reign?"
"Oh, a very long time, indeed–a month certainly–how much longer I can't
precisely say. In the meantime, the lunatics had a jolly season of it–that
you may swear. They doffed their own shabby clothes, and made free with the
family wardrobe and jewels. The cellars of the chateau were well stocked
with wine; and these madmen are just the devils that know how to drink it.
They lived well, I can tell you."
"And the treatment–what was the particular species of treatment which the
leader of the rebels put into operation?"
"Why, as for that, a madman is not necessarily a fool, as I have already
observed; and it is my honest opinion that his treatment was a much better
treatment than that which it superseded. It was a very capital system
indeed–simple–neat–no trouble at all–in fact it was delicious it was
Here my host's observations were cut short by another series of yells, of
the same character as those which had previously disconcerted us. This time,
however, they seemed to proceed from persons rapidly approaching.
"Gracious heavens!" I ejaculated–"the lunatics have most undoubtedly
broken loose."
"I very much fear it is so," replied Monsieur Maillard, now becoming
excessively pale. He had scarcely finished the sentence, before loud shouts
and imprecations were heard beneath the windows; and, immediately afterward,
it became evident that some persons outside were endeavoring to gain
entrance into the room. The door was beaten with what appeared to be a
sledge-hammer, and the shutters were wrenched and shaken with prodigious
violence.
A scene of the most terrible confusion ensued. Monsieur Maillard, to my
excessive astonishment threw himself under the side-board. I had expected
more resolution at his hands. The members of the orchestra, who, for the
last fifteen minutes, had been seemingly too much intoxicated to do duty,
now sprang all at once to their feet and to their instruments, and,
scrambling upon their table, broke out, with one accord, into, "Yankee
Doodle," which they performed, if not exactly in tune, at least with an
energy superhuman, during the whole of the uproar.
Meantime, upon the main dining-table, among the bottles and glasses,
leaped the gentleman who, with such difficulty, had been restrained from
leaping there before. As soon as he fairly settled himself, he commenced an
oration, which, no doubt, was a very capital one, if it could only have been
heard. At the same moment, the man with the teetotum predilection, set
himself to spinning around the apartment, with immense energy, and with arms
outstretched at right angles with his body; so that he had all the air of a
tee-totum in fact, and knocked everybody down that happened to get in his
way. And now, too, hearing an incredible popping and fizzing of champagne, I
discovered at length, that it proceeded from the person who performed the
bottle of that delicate drink during dinner. And then, again, the frog-man
croaked away as if the salvation of his soul depended upon every note that
he uttered. And, in the midst of all this, the continuous braying of a
donkey arose over all. As for my old friend, Madame Joyeuse, I really could
have wept for the poor lady, she appeared so terribly perplexed. All she
did, however, was to stand up in a corner, by the fireplace, and sing out
incessantly at the top of her voice, "Cock-a-doodle-de-dooooooh!"
And now came the climax–the catastrophe of the drama. As no resistance,
beyond whooping and yelling and cock-a-doodling, was offered to the
encroachments of the party without, the ten windows were very speedily, and
almost simultaneously, broken in. But I shall never forget the emotions of
wonder and horror with which I gazed, when, leaping through these windows,
and down among us pele-mele, fighting, stamping, scratching, and howling,
there rushed a perfect army of what I took to be Chimpanzees,
Ourang-Outangs, or big black baboons of the Cape of Good Hope.
I received a terrible beating–after which I rolled under a sofa and lay
still. After lying there some fifteen minutes, during which time I listened
with all my ears to what was going on in the room, I came to same
satisfactory denouement of this tragedy. Monsieur Maillard, it appeared, in
giving me the account of the lunatic who had excited his fellows to
rebellion, had been merely relating his own exploits. This gentleman had,
indeed, some two or three years before, been the superintendent of the
establishment, but grew crazy himself, and so became a patient. This fact
was unknown to the travelling companion who introduced me. The keepers, ten
in number, having been suddenly overpowered, were first well tarred,
then–carefully feathered, and then shut up in underground cells. They had
been so imprisoned for more than a month, during which period Monsieur
Maillard had generously allowed them not only the tar and feathers (which
constituted his "system"), but some bread and abundance of water. The latter
was pumped on them daily. At length, one escaping through a sewer, gave
freedom to all the rest.
The "soothing system," with important modifications, has been resumed at
the chateau; yet I cannot help agreeing with Monsieur Maillard, that his own
"treatment" was a very capital one of its kind. As he justly observed, it
was "simple–neat–and gave no trouble at all–not the least."
I have only to add that, although I have searched every library in Europe
for the works of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether, I have, up to the present
day, utterly failed in my endeavors at procuring an edition.
THE END
Edgar Allan Poe: The System of Dr. Tarr And Prof. Fether
Up to the EServer | The Complete Works of Edgar Allan
Poe
THE SYSTEM OF DR. TARR AND PROF. FETHER
by Edgar Allan Poe
1850
southern provinces of France, my route led me within a few miles of a
certain Maison de Sante or private mad-house, about which I had heard much
in Paris from my medical friends. As I had never visited a place of the
kind, I thought the opportunity too good to be lost; and so proposed to my
travelling companion (a gentleman with whom I had made casual acquaintance a
few days before) that we should turn aside, for an hour or so, and look
through the establishment. To this he objected–pleading haste in the first
place, and, in the second, a very usual horror at the sight of a lunatic. He
begged me, however, not to let any mere courtesy towards himself interfere
with the gratification of my curiosity, and said that he would ride on
leisurely, so that I might overtake him during the day, or, at all events,
during the next. As he bade me good-bye, I bethought me that there might be
some difficulty in obtaining access to the premises, and mentioned my fears
on this point. He replied that, in fact, unless I had personal knowledge of
the superintendent, Monsieur Maillard, or some credential in the way of a
letter, a difficulty might be found to exist, as the regulations of these
private mad-houses were more rigid than the public hospital laws. For
himself, he added, he had, some years since, made the acquaintance of
Maillard, and would so far assist me as to ride up to the door and introduce
me; although his feelings on the subject of lunacy would not permit of his
entering the house.
I thanked him, and, turning from the main road, we entered a grass-grown
by-path, which, in half an hour, nearly lost itself in a dense forest,
clothing the base of a mountain. Through this dank and gloomy wood we rode
some two miles, when the Maison de Sante came in view. It was a fantastic
chateau, much dilapidated, and indeed scarcely tenantable through age and
neglect. Its aspect inspired me with absolute dread, and, checking my horse,
I half resolved to turn back. I soon, however, grew ashamed of my weakness,
and proceeded.
As we rode up to the gate-way, I perceived it slightly open, and the
visage of a man peering through. In an instant afterward, this man came
forth, accosted my companion by name, shook him cordially by the hand, and
begged him to alight. It was Monsieur Maillard himself. He was a portly,
fine-looking gentleman of the old school, with a polished manner, and a
certain air of gravity, dignity, and authority which was very
impressive.
My friend, having presented me, mentioned my desire to inspect the
establishment, and received Monsieur Maillard's assurance that he would show
me all attention, now took leave, and I saw him no more.
When he had gone, the superintendent ushered me into a small and
exceedingly neat parlor, containing, among other indications of refined
taste, many books, drawings, pots of flowers, and musical instruments. A
cheerful fire blazed upon the hearth. At a piano, singing an aria from
Bellini, sat a young and very beautiful woman, who, at my entrance, paused
in her song, and received me with graceful courtesy. Her voice was low, and
her whole manner subdued. I thought, too, that I perceived the traces of
sorrow in her countenance, which was excessively, although to my taste, not
unpleasingly, pale. She was attired in deep mourning, and excited in my
bosom a feeling of mingled respect, interest, and admiration.
I had heard, at Paris, that the institution of Monsieur Maillard was
managed upon what is vulgarly termed the "system of soothing"–that all
punishments were avoided–that even confinement was seldom resorted to–that
the patients, while secretly watched, were left much apparent liberty, and
that most of them were permitted to roam about the house and grounds in the
ordinary apparel of persons in right mind.
Keeping these impressions in view, I was cautious in what I said before
the young lady; for I could not be sure that she was sane; and, in fact,
there was a certain restless brilliancy about her eyes which half led me to
imagine she was not. I confined my remarks, therefore, to general topics,
and to such as I thought would not be displeasing or exciting even to a
lunatic. She replied in a perfectly rational manner to all that I said; and
even her original observations were marked with the soundest good sense, but
a long acquaintance with the metaphysics of mania, had taught me to put no
faith in such evidence of sanity, and I continued to practise, throughout
the interview, the caution with which I commenced it.
Presently a smart footman in livery brought in a tray with fruit, wine,
and other refreshments, of which I partook, the lady soon afterward leaving
the room. As she departed I turned my eyes in an inquiring manner toward my
host.
"No," he said, "oh, no–a member of my family–my niece, and a most
accomplished woman."
"I beg a thousand pardons for the suspicion," I replied, "but of course
you will know how to excuse me. The excellent administration of your affairs
here is well understood in Paris, and I thought it just possible, you
know-
"Yes, yes–say no more–or rather it is myself who should thank you for the
commendable prudence you have displayed. We seldom find so much of
forethought in young men; and, more than once, some unhappy contre-temps has
occurred in consequence of thoughtlessness on the part of our visitors.
While my former system was in operation, and my patients were permitted the
privilege of roaming to and fro at will, they were often aroused to a
dangerous frenzy by injudicious persons who called to inspect the house.
Hence I was obliged to enforce a rigid system of exclusion; and none
obtained access to the premises upon whose discretion I could not rely."
"While your former system was in operation!" I said, repeating his
words–"do I understand you, then, to say that the 'soothing system' of which
I have heard so much is no longer in force?"
"It is now," he replied, "several weeks since we have concluded to
renounce it forever."
"Indeed! you astonish me!"
"We found it, sir," he said, with a sigh, "absolutely necessary to return
to the old usages. The danger of the soothing system was, at all times,
appalling; and its advantages have been much overrated. I believe, sir, that
in this house it has been given a fair trial, if ever in any. We did every
thing that rational humanity could suggest. I am sorry that you could not
have paid us a visit at an earlier period, that you might have judged for
yourself. But I presume you are conversant with the soothing practice–with
its details."
"Not altogether. What I have heard has been at third or fourth hand."
"I may state the system, then, in general terms, as one in which the
patients were menages-humored. We contradicted no fancies which entered the
brains of the mad. On the contrary, we not only indulged but encouraged
them; and many of our most permanent cures have been thus effected. There is
no argument which so touches the feeble reason of the madman as the
argumentum ad absurdum. We have had men, for example, who fancied themselves
chickens. The cure was, to insist upon the thing as a fact–to accuse the
patient of stupidity in not sufficiently perceiving it to be a fact–and thus
to refuse him any other diet for a week than that which properly appertains
to a chicken. In this manner a little corn and gravel were made to perform
wonders."
"But was this species of acquiescence all?"
"By no means. We put much faith in amusements of a simple kind, such as
music, dancing, gymnastic exercises generally, cards, certain classes of
books, and so forth. We affected to treat each individual as if for some
ordinary physical disorder, and the word 'lunacy' was never employed. A
great point was to set each lunatic to guard the actions of all the others.
To repose confidence in the understanding or discretion of a madman, is to
gain him body and soul. In this way we were enabled to dispense with an
expensive body of keepers."
"And you had no punishments of any kind?"
"None."
"And you never confined your patients?"
"Very rarely. Now and then, the malady of some individual growing to a
crisis, or taking a sudden turn of fury, we conveyed him to a secret cell,
lest his disorder should infect the rest, and there kept him until we could
dismiss him to his friends–for with the raging maniac we have nothing to do.
He is usually removed to the public hospitals."
"And you have now changed all this–and you think for the better?"
"Decidedly. The system had its disadvantages, and even its dangers. It is
now, happily, exploded throughout all the Maisons de Sante of France."
"I am very much surprised," I said, "at what you tell me; for I made sure
that, at this moment, no other method of treatment for mania existed in any
portion of the country."
"You are young yet, my friend," replied my host, "but the time will
arrive when you will learn to judge for yourself of what is going on in the
world, without trusting to the gossip of others. Believe nothing you hear,
and only one-half that you see. Now about our Maisons de Sante, it is clear
that some ignoramus has misled you. After dinner, however, when you have
sufficiently recovered from the fatigue of your ride, I will be happy to
take you over the house, and introduce to you a system which, in my opinion,
and in that of every one who has witnessed its operation, is incomparably
the most effectual as yet devised."
"Your own?" I inquired–"one of your own invention?"
"I am proud," he replied, "to acknowledge that it is–at least in some
measure."
In this manner I conversed with Monsieur Maillard for an hour or two,
during which he showed me the gardens and conservatories of the place.
"I cannot let you see my patients," he said, "just at present. To a
sensitive mind there is always more or less of the shocking in such
exhibitions; and I do not wish to spoil your appetite for dinner. We will
dine. I can give you some veal a la Menehoult, with cauliflowers in veloute
sauce–after that a glass of Clos de Vougeot–then your nerves will be
sufficiently steadied."
At six, dinner was announced; and my host conducted me into a large salle
a manger, where a very numerous company were assembled- twenty-five or
thirty in all. They were, apparently, people of rank-certainly of high
breeding–although their habiliments, I thought, were extravagantly rich,
partaking somewhat too much of the ostentatious finery of the vielle cour. I
noticed that at least two-thirds of these guests were ladies; and some of
the latter were by no means accoutred in what a Parisian would consider good
taste at the present day. Many females, for example, whose age could not
have been less than seventy were bedecked with a profusion of jewelry, such
as rings, bracelets, and earrings, and wore their bosoms and arms shamefully
bare. I observed, too, that very few of the dresses were well made–or, at
least, that very few of them fitted the wearers. In looking about, I
discovered the interesting girl to whom Monsieur Maillard had presented me
in the little parlor; but my surprise was great to see her wearing a hoop
and farthingale, with high-heeled shoes, and a dirty cap of Brussels lace,
so much too large for her that it gave her face a ridiculously diminutive
expression. When I had first seen her, she was attired, most becomingly, in
deep mourning. There was an air of oddity, in short, about the dress of the
whole party, which, at first, caused me to recur to my original idea of the
"soothing system," and to fancy that Monsieur Maillard had been willing to
deceive me until after dinner, that I might experience no uncomfortable
feelings during the repast, at finding myself dining with lunatics; but I
remembered having been informed, in Paris, that the southern provincialists
were a peculiarly eccentric people, with a vast number of antiquated
notions; and then, too, upon conversing with several members of the company,
my apprehensions were immediately and fully dispelled.
The dining-room itself, although perhaps sufficiently comfortable and of
good dimensions, had nothing too much of elegance about it. For example, the
floor was uncarpeted; in France, however, a carpet is frequently dispensed
with. The windows, too, were without curtains; the shutters, being shut,
were securely fastened with iron bars, applied diagonally, after the fashion
of our ordinary shop-shutters. The apartment, I observed, formed, in itself,
a wing of the chateau, and thus the windows were on three sides of the
parallelogram, the door being at the other. There were no less than ten
windows in all.
The table was superbly set out. It was loaded with plate, and more than
loaded with delicacies. The profusion was absolutely barbaric. There were
meats enough to have feasted the Anakim. Never, in all my life, had I
witnessed so lavish, so wasteful an expenditure of the good things of life.
There seemed very little taste, however, in the arrangements; and my eyes,
accustomed to quiet lights, were sadly offended by the prodigious glare of a
multitude of wax candles, which, in silver candelabra, were deposited upon
the table, and all about the room, wherever it was possible to find a place.
There were several active servants in attendance; and, upon a large table,
at the farther end of the apartment, were seated seven or eight people with
fiddles, fifes, trombones, and a drum. These fellows annoyed me very much,
at intervals, during the repast, by an infinite variety of noises, which
were intended for music, and which appeared to afford much entertainment to
all present, with the exception of myself.
Upon the whole, I could not help thinking that there was much of the
bizarre about every thing I saw–but then the world is made up of all kinds
of persons, with all modes of thought, and all sorts of conventional
customs. I had travelled, too, so much, as to be quite an adept at the nil
admirari; so I took my seat very coolly at the right hand of my host, and,
having an excellent appetite, did justice to the good cheer set before
me.
The conversation, in the meantime, was spirited and general. The ladies,
as usual, talked a great deal. I soon found that nearly all the company were
well educated; and my host was a world of good-humored anecdote in himself.
He seemed quite willing to speak of his position as superintendent of a
Maison de Sante; and, indeed, the topic of lunacy was, much to my surprise,
a favorite one with all present. A great many amusing stories were told,
having reference to the whims of the patients.
"We had a fellow here once," said a fat little gentleman, who sat at my
right,–"a fellow that fancied himself a tea-pot; and by the way, is it not
especially singular how often this particular crotchet has entered the brain
of the lunatic? There is scarcely an insane asylum in France which cannot
supply a human tea-pot. Our gentleman was a Britannia–ware tea-pot, and was
careful to polish himself every morning with buckskin and whiting."
"And then," said a tall man just opposite, "we had here, not long ago, a
person who had taken it into his head that he was a donkey- which
allegorically speaking, you will say, was quite true. He was a troublesome
patient; and we had much ado to keep him within bounds. For a long time he
would eat nothing but thistles; but of this idea we soon cured him by
insisting upon his eating nothing else. Then he was perpetually kicking out
his heels-so-so-"
"Mr. De Kock! I will thank you to behave yourself!" here interrupted an
old lady, who sat next to the speaker. "Please keep your feet to yourself!
You have spoiled my brocade! Is it necessary, pray, to illustrate a remark
in so practical a style? Our friend here can surely comprehend you without
all this. Upon my word, you are nearly as great a donkey as the poor
unfortunate imagined himself. Your acting is very natural, as I live."
"Mille pardons! Ma'm'selle!" replied Monsieur De Kock, thus addressed–"a
thousand pardons! I had no intention of offending. Ma'm'selle
Laplace–Monsieur De Kock will do himself the honor of taking wine with
you."
Here Monsieur De Kock bowed low, kissed his hand with much ceremony, and
took wine with Ma'm'selle Laplace.
"Allow me, mon ami," now said Monsieur Maillard, addressing myself,
"allow me to send you a morsel of this veal a la St. Menhoult- you will find
it particularly fine."
At this instant three sturdy waiters had just succeeded in depositing
safely upon the table an enormous dish, or trencher, containing what I
supposed to be the "monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen
ademptum." A closer scrutiny assured me, however, that it was only a small
calf roasted whole, and set upon its knees, with an apple in its mouth, as
is the English fashion of dressing a hare.
"Thank you, no," I replied; "to say the truth, I am not particularly
partial to veal a la St.–what is it?–for I do not find that it altogether
agrees with me. I will change my plate, however, and try some of the
rabbit."
There were several side-dishes on the table, containing what appeared to
be the ordinary French rabbit–a very delicious morceau, which I can
recommend.
"Pierre," cried the host, "change this gentleman's plate, and give him a
side-piece of this rabbit au-chat."
"This what?" said I.
"This rabbit au-chat."
"Why, thank you–upon second thoughts, no. I will just help myself to some
of the ham."
There is no knowing what one eats, thought I to myself, at the tables of
these people of the province. I will have none of their rabbit au-chat–and,
for the matter of that, none of their cat-au-rabbit either.
"And then," said a cadaverous looking personage, near the foot of the
table, taking up the thread of the conversation where it had been broken
off,–"and then, among other oddities, we had a patient, once upon a time,
who very pertinaciously maintained himself to be a Cordova cheese, and went
about, with a knife in his hand, soliciting his friends to try a small slice
from the middle of his leg."
"He was a great fool, beyond doubt," interposed some one, "but not to be
compared with a certain individual whom we all know, with the exception of
this strange gentleman. I mean the man who took himself for a bottle of
champagne, and always went off with a pop and a fizz, in this fashion."
Here the speaker, very rudely, as I thought, put his right thumb in his
left cheek, withdrew it with a sound resembling the popping of a cork, and
then, by a dexterous movement of the tongue upon the teeth, created a sharp
hissing and fizzing, which lasted for several minutes, in imitation of the
frothing of champagne. This behavior, I saw plainly, was not very pleasing
to Monsieur Maillard; but that gentleman said nothing, and the conversation
was resumed by a very lean little man in a big wig.
"And then there was an ignoramus," said he, "who mistook himself for a
frog, which, by the way, he resembled in no little degree. I wish you could
have seen him, sir,"–here the speaker addressed myself–"it would have done
your heart good to see the natural airs that he put on. Sir, if that man was
not a frog, I can only observe that it is a pity he was not. His croak
thus–o-o-o-o-gh–o-o-o-o-gh! was the finest note in the world–B flat; and
when he put his elbows upon the table thus–after taking a glass or two of
wine–and distended his mouth, thus, and rolled up his eyes, thus, and winked
them with excessive rapidity, thus, why then, sir, I take it upon myself to
say, positively, that you would have been lost in admiration of the genius
of the man."
"I have no doubt of it," I said.
"And then," said somebody else, "then there was Petit Gaillard, who
thought himself a pinch of snuff, and was truly distressed because he could
not take himself between his own finger and thumb."
"And then there was Jules Desoulieres, who was a very singular genius,
indeed, and went mad with the idea that he was a pumpkin. He persecuted the
cook to make him up into pies–a thing which the cook indignantly refused to
do. For my part, I am by no means sure that a pumpkin pie a la Desoulieres
would not have been very capital eating indeed!"
"You astonish me!" said I; and I looked inquisitively at Monsieur
Maillard.
"Ha! ha! ha!" said that gentleman–"he! he! he!–hi! hi! hi!–ho! ho!
ho!–hu! hu! hu! hu!–very good indeed! You must not be astonished, mon ami;
our friend here is a wit–a drole–you must not understand him to the
letter."
"And then," said some other one of the party,–"then there was Bouffon Le
Grand–another extraordinary personage in his way. He grew deranged through
love, and fancied himself possessed of two heads. One of these he maintained
to be the head of Cicero; the other he imagined a composite one, being
Demosthenes' from the top of the forehead to the mouth, and Lord Brougham's
from the mouth to the chin. It is not impossible that he was wrong; but he
would have convinced you of his being in the right; for he was a man of
great eloquence. He had an absolute passion for oratory, and could not
refrain from display. For example, he used to leap upon the dinner-table
thus, and–and-"
Here a friend, at the side of the speaker, put a hand upon his shoulder
and whispered a few words in his ear, upon which he ceased talking with
great suddenness, and sank back within his chair.
"And then," said the friend who had whispered, "there was Boullard, the
tee-totum. I call him the tee-totum because, in fact, he was seized with the
droll but not altogether irrational crotchet, that he had been converted
into a tee-totum. You would have roared with laughter to see him spin. He
would turn round upon one heel by the hour, in this manner–so-
Here the friend whom he had just interrupted by a whisper, performed an
exactly similar office for himself.
"But then," cried the old lady, at the top of her voice, "your Monsieur
Boullard was a madman, and a very silly madman at best; for who, allow me to
ask you, ever heard of a human tee-totum? The thing is absurd. Madame
Joyeuse was a more sensible person, as you know. She had a crotchet, but it
was instinct with common sense, and gave pleasure to all who had the honor
of her acquaintance. She found, upon mature deliberation, that, by some
accident, she had been turned into a chicken-cock; but, as such, she behaved
with propriety. She flapped her wings with prodigious effect–so–so–and, as
for her crow, it was delicious! Cock-a-doodle-doo!–cock-a-doodle-doo!-
cock-a-doodle-de-doo-dooo-do-o-o-o-o-o-o!"
"Madame Joyeuse, I will thank you to behave yourself!" here interrupted
our host, very angrily. "You can either conduct yourself as a lady should
do, or you can quit the table forthwith-take your choice."
The lady (whom I was much astonished to hear addressed as Madame Joyeuse,
after the description of Madame Joyeuse she had just given) blushed up to
the eyebrows, and seemed exceedingly abashed at the reproof. She hung down
her head, and said not a syllable in reply. But another and younger lady
resumed the theme. It was my beautiful girl of the little parlor.
"Oh, Madame Joyeuse was a fool!" she exclaimed, "but there was really
much sound sense, after all, in the opinion of Eugenie Salsafette. She was a
very beautiful and painfully modest young lady, who thought the ordinary
mode of habiliment indecent, and wished to dress herself, always, by getting
outside instead of inside of her clothes. It is a thing very easily done,
after all. You have only to do so–and then so–so–so–and then so–so–so–and
then so–so–and then-
"Mon dieu! Ma'm'selle Salsafette!" here cried a dozen voices at once.
"What are you about?–forbear!–that is sufficient!–we see, very plainly, how
it is done!–hold! hold!" and several persons were already leaping from their
seats to withhold Ma'm'selle Salsafette from putting herself upon a par with
the Medicean Venus, when the point was very effectually and suddenly
accomplished by a series of loud screams, or yells, from some portion of the
main body of the chateau.
My nerves were very much affected, indeed, by these yells; but the rest
of the company I really pitied. I never saw any set of reasonable people so
thoroughly frightened in my life. They all grew as pale as so many corpses,
and, shrinking within their seats, sat quivering and gibbering with terror,
and listening for a repetition of the sound. It came again–louder and
seemingly nearer–and then a third time very loud, and then a fourth time
with a vigor evidently diminished. At this apparent dying away of the noise,
the spirits of the company were immediately regained, and all was life and
anecdote as before. I now ventured to inquire the cause of the
disturbance.
"A mere bagtelle," said Monsieur Maillard. "We are used to these things,
and care really very little about them. The lunatics, every now and then,
get up a howl in concert; one starting another, as is sometimes the case
with a bevy of dogs at night. It occasionally happens, however, that the
concerto yells are succeeded by a simultaneous effort at breaking loose,
when, of course, some little danger is to be apprehended."
"And how many have you in charge?"
"At present we have not more than ten, altogether."
"Principally females, I presume?"
"Oh, no–every one of them men, and stout fellows, too, I can tell
you."
"Indeed! I have always understood that the majority of lunatics were of
the gentler sex."
"It is generally so, but not always. Some time ago, there were about
twenty-seven patients here; and, of that number, no less than eighteen were
women; but, lately, matters have changed very much, as you see."
"Yes–have changed very much, as you see," here interrupted the gentleman
who had broken the shins of Ma'm'selle Laplace.
"Yes–have changed very much, as you see!" chimed in the whole company at
once.
"Hold your tongues, every one of you!" said my host, in a great rage.
Whereupon the whole company maintained a dead silence for nearly a minute.
As for one lady, she obeyed Monsieur Maillard to the letter, and thrusting
out her tongue, which was an excessively long one, held it very resignedly,
with both hands, until the end of the entertainment.
"And this gentlewoman," said I, to Monsieur Maillard, bending over and
addressing him in a whisper–"this good lady who has just spoken, and who
gives us the cock-a-doodle-de-doo–she, I presume, is harmless–quite
harmless, eh?"
"Harmless!" ejaculated he, in unfeigned surprise, "why–why, what can you
mean?"
"Only slightly touched?" said I, touching my head. "I take it for granted
that she is not particularly not dangerously affected, eh?"
"Mon dieu! what is it you imagine? This lady, my particular old friend
Madame Joyeuse, is as absolutely sane as myself. She has her little
eccentricities, to be sure–but then, you know, all old women–all very old
women–are more or less eccentric!"
"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure–and then the rest of these ladies and
gentlemen-"
"Are my friends and keepers," interupted Monsieur Maillard, drawing
himself up with hauteur,–"my very good friends and assistants."
"What! all of them?" I asked,–"the women and all?"
"Assuredly," he said,–"we could not do at all without the women; they are
the best lunatic nurses in the world; they have a way of their own, you
know; their bright eyes have a marvellous effect;- something like the
fascination of the snake, you know."
"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure! They behave a little odd, eh?- they
are a little queer, eh?–don't you think so?"
"Odd!–queer!–why, do you really think so? We are not very prudish, to be
sure, here in the South–do pretty much as we please–enjoy life, and all that
sort of thing, you know-"
"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure."
And then, perhaps, this Clos de Vougeot is a little heady, you know- a
little strong–you understand, eh?"
"To be sure," said I,–"to be sure. By the bye, Monsieur, did I understand
you to say that the system you have adopted, in place of the celebrated
soothing system, was one of very rigorous severity?"
"By no means. Our confinement is necessarily close; but the treatment–the
medical treatment, I mean–is rather agreeable to the patients than
otherwise."
"And the new system is one of your own invention?"
"Not altogether. Some portions of it are referable to Professor Tarr, of
whom you have, necessarily, heard; and, again, there are modifications in my
plan which I am happy to acknowledge as belonging of right to the celebrated
Fether, with whom, if I mistake not, you have the honor of an intimate
acquaintance."
"I am quite ashamed to confess," I replied, "that I have never even heard
the names of either gentleman before."
"Good heavens!" ejaculated my host, drawing back his chair abruptly, and
uplifting his hands. "I surely do not hear you aright! You did not intend to
say, eh? that you had never heard either of the learned Doctor Tarr, or of
the celebrated Professor Fether?"
"I am forced to acknowledge my ignorance," I replied; "but the truth
should be held inviolate above all things. Nevertheless, I feel humbled to
the dust, not to be acquainted with the works of these, no doubt,
extraordinary men. I will seek out their writings forthwith, and peruse them
with deliberate care. Monsieur Maillard, you have really–I must confess
it–you have really–made me ashamed of myself!"
And this was the fact.
"Say no more, my good young friend," he said kindly, pressing my
hand,–"join me now in a glass of Sauterne."
We drank. The company followed our example without stint. They
chatted–they jested–they laughed–they perpetrated a thousand absurdities–the
fiddles shrieked–the drum row-de-dowed–the trombones bellowed like so many
brazen bulls of Phalaris–and the whole scene, growing gradually worse and
worse, as the wines gained the ascendancy, became at length a sort of
pandemonium in petto. In the meantime, Monsieur Maillard and myself, with
some bottles of Sauterne and Vougeot between us, continued our conversation
at the top of the voice. A word spoken in an ordinary key stood no more
chance of being heard than the voice of a fish from the bottom of Niagra
Falls.
"And, sir," said I, screaming in his ear, "you mentioned something before
dinner about the danger incurred in the old system of soothing. How is
that?"
"Yes," he replied, "there was, occasionally, very great danger indeed.
There is no accounting for the caprices of madmen; and, in my opinion as
well as in that of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether, it is never safe to permit
them to run at large unattended. A lunatic may be 'soothed,' as it is
called, for a time, but, in the end, he is very apt to become obstreperous.
His cunning, too, is proverbial and great. If he has a project in view, he
conceals his design with a marvellous wisdom; and the dexterity with which
he counterfeits sanity, presents, to the metaphysician, one of the most
singular problems in the study of mind. When a madman appears thoroughly
sane, indeed, it is high time to put him in a straitjacket."
"But the danger, my dear sir, of which you were speaking, in your own
experience–during your control of this house–have you had practical reason
to think liberty hazardous in the case of a lunatic?"
"Here?–in my own experience?–why, I may say, yes. For example:–no very
long while ago, a singular circumstance occurred in this very house. The
'soothing system,' you know, was then in operation, and the patients were at
large. They behaved remarkably well-especially so, any one of sense might
have known that some devilish scheme was brewing from that particular fact,
that the fellows behaved so remarkably well. And, sure enough, one fine
morning the keepers found themselves pinioned hand and foot, and thrown into
the cells, where they were attended, as if they were the lunatics, by the
lunatics themselves, who had usurped the offices of the keepers."
"You don't tell me so! I never heard of any thing so absurd in my
life!"
"Fact–it all came to pass by means of a stupid fellow–a lunatic- who, by
some means, had taken it into his head that he had invented a better system
of government than any ever heard of before–of lunatic government, I mean.
He wished to give his invention a trial, I suppose, and so he persuaded the
rest of the patients to join him in a conspiracy for the overthrow of the
reigning powers."
"And he really succeeded?"
"No doubt of it. The keepers and kept were soon made to exchange places.
Not that exactly either–for the madmen had been free, but the keepers were
shut up in cells forthwith, and treated, I am sorry to say, in a very
cavalier manner."
"But I presume a counter-revolution was soon effected. This condition of
things could not have long existed. The country people in the
neighborhood-visitors coming to see the establishment–would have given the
alarm."
"There you are out. The head rebel was too cunning for that. He admitted
no visitors at all–with the exception, one day, of a very stupid-looking
young gentleman of whom he had no reason to be afraid. He let him in to see
the place–just by way of variety,–to have a little fun with him. As soon as
he had gammoned him sufficiently, he let him out, and sent him about his
business."
"And how long, then, did the madmen reign?"
"Oh, a very long time, indeed–a month certainly–how much longer I can't
precisely say. In the meantime, the lunatics had a jolly season of it–that
you may swear. They doffed their own shabby clothes, and made free with the
family wardrobe and jewels. The cellars of the chateau were well stocked
with wine; and these madmen are just the devils that know how to drink it.
They lived well, I can tell you."
"And the treatment–what was the particular species of treatment which the
leader of the rebels put into operation?"
"Why, as for that, a madman is not necessarily a fool, as I have already
observed; and it is my honest opinion that his treatment was a much better
treatment than that which it superseded. It was a very capital system
indeed–simple–neat–no trouble at all–in fact it was delicious it was
Here my host's observations were cut short by another series of yells, of
the same character as those which had previously disconcerted us. This time,
however, they seemed to proceed from persons rapidly approaching.
"Gracious heavens!" I ejaculated–"the lunatics have most undoubtedly
broken loose."
"I very much fear it is so," replied Monsieur Maillard, now becoming
excessively pale. He had scarcely finished the sentence, before loud shouts
and imprecations were heard beneath the windows; and, immediately afterward,
it became evident that some persons outside were endeavoring to gain
entrance into the room. The door was beaten with what appeared to be a
sledge-hammer, and the shutters were wrenched and shaken with prodigious
violence.
A scene of the most terrible confusion ensued. Monsieur Maillard, to my
excessive astonishment threw himself under the side-board. I had expected
more resolution at his hands. The members of the orchestra, who, for the
last fifteen minutes, had been seemingly too much intoxicated to do duty,
now sprang all at once to their feet and to their instruments, and,
scrambling upon their table, broke out, with one accord, into, "Yankee
Doodle," which they performed, if not exactly in tune, at least with an
energy superhuman, during the whole of the uproar.
Meantime, upon the main dining-table, among the bottles and glasses,
leaped the gentleman who, with such difficulty, had been restrained from
leaping there before. As soon as he fairly settled himself, he commenced an
oration, which, no doubt, was a very capital one, if it could only have been
heard. At the same moment, the man with the teetotum predilection, set
himself to spinning around the apartment, with immense energy, and with arms
outstretched at right angles with his body; so that he had all the air of a
tee-totum in fact, and knocked everybody down that happened to get in his
way. And now, too, hearing an incredible popping and fizzing of champagne, I
discovered at length, that it proceeded from the person who performed the
bottle of that delicate drink during dinner. And then, again, the frog-man
croaked away as if the salvation of his soul depended upon every note that
he uttered. And, in the midst of all this, the continuous braying of a
donkey arose over all. As for my old friend, Madame Joyeuse, I really could
have wept for the poor lady, she appeared so terribly perplexed. All she
did, however, was to stand up in a corner, by the fireplace, and sing out
incessantly at the top of her voice, "Cock-a-doodle-de-dooooooh!"
And now came the climax–the catastrophe of the drama. As no resistance,
beyond whooping and yelling and cock-a-doodling, was offered to the
encroachments of the party without, the ten windows were very speedily, and
almost simultaneously, broken in. But I shall never forget the emotions of
wonder and horror with which I gazed, when, leaping through these windows,
and down among us pele-mele, fighting, stamping, scratching, and howling,
there rushed a perfect army of what I took to be Chimpanzees,
Ourang-Outangs, or big black baboons of the Cape of Good Hope.
I received a terrible beating–after which I rolled under a sofa and lay
still. After lying there some fifteen minutes, during which time I listened
with all my ears to what was going on in the room, I came to same
satisfactory denouement of this tragedy. Monsieur Maillard, it appeared, in
giving me the account of the lunatic who had excited his fellows to
rebellion, had been merely relating his own exploits. This gentleman had,
indeed, some two or three years before, been the superintendent of the
establishment, but grew crazy himself, and so became a patient. This fact
was unknown to the travelling companion who introduced me. The keepers, ten
in number, having been suddenly overpowered, were first well tarred,
then–carefully feathered, and then shut up in underground cells. They had
been so imprisoned for more than a month, during which period Monsieur
Maillard had generously allowed them not only the tar and feathers (which
constituted his "system"), but some bread and abundance of water. The latter
was pumped on them daily. At length, one escaping through a sewer, gave
freedom to all the rest.
The "soothing system," with important modifications, has been resumed at
the chateau; yet I cannot help agreeing with Monsieur Maillard, that his own
"treatment" was a very capital one of its kind. As he justly observed, it
was "simple–neat–and gave no trouble at all–not the least."
I have only to add that, although I have searched every library in Europe
for the works of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether, I have, up to the present
day, utterly failed in my endeavors at procuring an edition.
THE END
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