The Dublin Art Union made it their first purchase from the
exhibition in which it appeared. Mr. Wall remembers America with much
pleasure, and nothing can exceed his kindness to such of the Americans as
he meets in Ireland.
He took us to the exhibition of the Royal Hibernian Society. Among its
pictures is a portrait of a lady by Burton, in water-colors, most
surprising for its perfection of execution and expression, its strength of
coloring and absolute nature. Burton is a native of Dublin, and is but
twenty-five years old. The Irish connoisseurs claim for him the praise of
being the first artist in water-colors in the world. He paints with the
left hand. There are several other fine things by him in the exhibition.
Maclise, another Irish artist, has a picture in the exhibition,
representing a dramatic author offering his piece to an actor. The story
is told in Gil Blas. It is a miracle of execution, though it has the fault
of hardness and too equal a distribution of light. I have no time to speak
more at large of this exhibition, and my letter is already too long.
This afternoon we sail for Liverpool.
Letter XXVI.
The Lunatic Asylum at Hanwell.
London, _July_ 28, 1845.
Since we came to England we have visited the Lunatic Asylum at Hanwell, in
the neighborhood of London. It is a large building, divided into numerous
apartments, with the plainest accommodations, for the insane poor of the
county of Middlesex. It is superintended by Dr. Conolly, who is most
admirably fitted for the place he fills, by his great humanity, sagacity,
and ingenuity.
I put these qualities together as necessary to each other. Mere humanity,
without tact and skill, would fail deplorably. The rude and coarse methods
of government which consist in severity, are the most obvious ones; they
suggest themselves to the dullest minds, and cost nothing but bodily
strength to put them in execution; the gentler methods require reflection,
knowledge, and dexterity. It is these which Dr. Conolly applies with
perfect success. He has taken great pains to make himself acquainted, by
personal observation, with the treatment of the insane in different
hospitals, not only in England, but on the continent. He found that to be
the most efficacious which interferes least with their personal liberty,
and on this principle, the truth of which an experience of several years
has now confirmed, he founded the system of treatment at Hanwell.
We had letters to Dr. Conolly, with the kindness and gentleness of whose
manners we were much struck. He conducted us over the several wards of the
Asylum. We found in it a thousand persons of both sexes, not one of whom
was in seclusion, that is to say confined because it was dangerous to
allow him to go at large; nor were they subjected to any apparent
restraint whatever. Some were engaged in reading, some in exercises and
games of skill; of the females some were occupied in sewing, others at
work in the kitchen or the laundry; melancholic patients were walking
about in silence or sitting gloomily by themselves; idiots were rocking
their bodies backward and forward as they sat, but all were peaceable in
their demeanor, and the greatest quiet prevailed. No chastisement of any
kind is inflicted; the lunatic is always treated as a patient, and never
as an offender. When he becomes so outrageous and violent that his
presence can be endured no longer, he is put into a room with padded walls
and floors where he can do himself no mischief, and where his rage is
allowed to exhale. Even the straight jacket is unknown here.
I said that the demeanor of all the patients with whom the Asylum was
swarming was peaceable. There was one exception. On entering one of the
wards, a girl of an earnest and determined aspect, as soon as she saw Dr.
Conolly began to scream violently, and sprang towards him, thrusting aside
the bystanders by main force. Two of the female attendants came
immediately up and strove to appease her, holding her back without
severity, as a mother would restrain her infant. I saw them struggling
with her for some time; how they finally disposed of her I did not
observe, but her screams had ceased before we left the ward.
Among the patients was one who, we were told, was remarkable for his
extravagant love of finery, and whose cell was plastered over with glaring
colored prints and patches of colored paper ornamentally disposed. He wore
on his hat a broad strip of tarnished lace, and had decorated his
waistcoat with several perpendicular rows of pearl buttons.
"You have made your room very fine here," said the doctor.
"Yes," said he, smiling and evidently delighted, "but, my dear sir, all is
vanity - all is vanity, sir, and vexation of spirit. There is but one thing
that we ought to strive for, and that is the kingdom of heaven."
As there was no disputing this proposition, we passed on to another cell,
at the door of which stood a tall, erect personage, who was busy with a
pot of paint and a brush, inscribing the pannels with mottoes and scraps
of verse. The walls of his room were covered with poetry and pithy
sentences. Some of the latter appeared to be of his own composition, and,
were not badly turned; their purport generally was this: that birth is but
a trivial accident, and that virtue and talent are the only true nobility.
This man was found wandering about in Chiswick, full of a plan for
educating the Prince of Wales in a manner to enable him to fill the throne
with credit and usefulness. As his name could not be learned, the
appellation of "Chiswick" was given him, which he had himself adopted,
styling himself Mr. "Chiswick" in his mottoes, but always taking care to
put the name between inverted commas.
