Read Online Ten Days in a Mad-House and Other Stories by Nellie Bly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nellie Bly
Tags: General, Social Science, Medical, Biography & Autobiography, Editors; Journalists; Publishers, Psychology, Mental Illness, Psychiatry, People With Disabilities, Hospital Administration & Care
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felt anything so annoying as that wool blanket
as I tried to keep it around my shoulders to stop the chills from
getting underneath. When I pulled it up I left my feet bare, and when
I pulled it down my shoulders were exposed. There was absolutely
nothing in the room but the bed and myself. As the door had been
locked I imagined I should be left alone for the night, but I heard the
sound of the heavy tread of two women down the hall. They
stopped at every door, unlocked it, and in a few moments I could
hear them relock it. This they did without the least attempt at
quietness down the whole length of the opposite side of the hall and
up to my room. Here they paused. The key was inserted in the lock
and turned. I watched those about to enter. In they came, dressed in
brown and white striped dresses, fastened by brass buttons, large,
white aprons, a heavy green cord about the waist, from which
dangled a bunch of large keys, and small, white caps on their heads.
Being dressed as were the attendants of the day, I knew they were
nurses. The first one carried a lantern, and she flashed its light into
my face while she said to her assistant:
“This is Nellie Brown.” Looking at her, I asked:
“Who are you?”
“The night nurse, my dear,” she replied, and, wishing that I would
sleep well, she went out and locked the door after her. Several times
during the night they came into my room, and even had I been able
to sleep, the unlocking of the heavy door, their loud talking, and
heavy tread, would have awakened me.
I could not sleep, so I lay in bed picturing to myself the horrors in
case a fire should break out in the asylum. Every door is locked
separately and the windows are heavily barred, so that escape is
impossible. In the one building alone there are, I think Dr. Ingram
told me, some three hundred women. They are locked, one to ten to
a room. It is impossible to get out unless these doors are unlocked. A
fire is not improbable, but one of the most likely occurrences. Should
the building burn, the jailers or nurses would never think of
61
Ten Days in a Mad-House
releasing their crazy patients. This I can prove to you later when I
come to tell of their cruel treatment of the poor things intrusted to
their care. As I say, in case of fire, not a dozen women could escape.
All would be left to roast to death. Even if the nurses were kind, which they are not, it would require more presence of mind than
women of their class possess to risk the flames and their own lives
while they unlocked the hundred doors for the insane prisoners.
Unless there is a change there will some day be a tale of horror never
equaled.
In this connection is an amusing incident which happened just
previous to my release. I was talking with Dr. Ingram about many
things, and at last told him what I thought would be the result of a
fire.
“The nurses are expected to open the doors,” he said.
“But you know positively that they would not wait to do that,” I
said, “and these women would burn to death.”
He sat silent, unable to contradict my assertion.
“Why don’t you have it changed?” I asked.
“What can I do?” he replied. “I offer suggestions until my brain is
tired, but what good does it do? What would you do?” he asked,
turning to me, the proclaimed insane girl.
“Well, I should insist on them having locks put in, as I have seen in
some places, that by turning a crank at the end of the hall you can
lock or unlock every door on the one side. Then there would be some
chance of escape. Now, every door being locked separately, there is
absolutely none.”
Dr. Ingram turned to me with an anxious look on his kind face as he
asked, slowly:
62
Ten Days in a Mad-House
“Nellie Brown, what institution have you been an inmate of before
you came here?”
“None. I never was confined in any institution, except boarding-
school, in my life.”
“Where then did you see the locks you
as I tried to keep it around my shoulders to stop the chills from
getting underneath. When I pulled it up I left my feet bare, and when
I pulled it down my shoulders were exposed. There was absolutely
nothing in the room but the bed and myself. As the door had been
locked I imagined I should be left alone for the night, but I heard the
sound of the heavy tread of two women down the hall. They
stopped at every door, unlocked it, and in a few moments I could
hear them relock it. This they did without the least attempt at
quietness down the whole length of the opposite side of the hall and
up to my room. Here they paused. The key was inserted in the lock
and turned. I watched those about to enter. In they came, dressed in
brown and white striped dresses, fastened by brass buttons, large,
white aprons, a heavy green cord about the waist, from which
dangled a bunch of large keys, and small, white caps on their heads.
Being dressed as were the attendants of the day, I knew they were
nurses. The first one carried a lantern, and she flashed its light into
my face while she said to her assistant:
“This is Nellie Brown.” Looking at her, I asked:
“Who are you?”
“The night nurse, my dear,” she replied, and, wishing that I would
sleep well, she went out and locked the door after her. Several times
during the night they came into my room, and even had I been able
to sleep, the unlocking of the heavy door, their loud talking, and
heavy tread, would have awakened me.
I could not sleep, so I lay in bed picturing to myself the horrors in
case a fire should break out in the asylum. Every door is locked
separately and the windows are heavily barred, so that escape is
impossible. In the one building alone there are, I think Dr. Ingram
told me, some three hundred women. They are locked, one to ten to
a room. It is impossible to get out unless these doors are unlocked. A
fire is not improbable, but one of the most likely occurrences. Should
the building burn, the jailers or nurses would never think of
61
Ten Days in a Mad-House
releasing their crazy patients. This I can prove to you later when I
come to tell of their cruel treatment of the poor things intrusted to
their care. As I say, in case of fire, not a dozen women could escape.
All would be left to roast to death. Even if the nurses were kind, which they are not, it would require more presence of mind than
women of their class possess to risk the flames and their own lives
while they unlocked the hundred doors for the insane prisoners.
Unless there is a change there will some day be a tale of horror never
equaled.
In this connection is an amusing incident which happened just
previous to my release. I was talking with Dr. Ingram about many
things, and at last told him what I thought would be the result of a
fire.
“The nurses are expected to open the doors,” he said.
“But you know positively that they would not wait to do that,” I
said, “and these women would burn to death.”
He sat silent, unable to contradict my assertion.
“Why don’t you have it changed?” I asked.
“What can I do?” he replied. “I offer suggestions until my brain is
tired, but what good does it do? What would you do?” he asked,
turning to me, the proclaimed insane girl.
“Well, I should insist on them having locks put in, as I have seen in
some places, that by turning a crank at the end of the hall you can
lock or unlock every door on the one side. Then there would be some
chance of escape. Now, every door being locked separately, there is
absolutely none.”
Dr. Ingram turned to me with an anxious look on his kind face as he
asked, slowly:
62
Ten Days in a Mad-House
“Nellie Brown, what institution have you been an inmate of before
you came here?”
“None. I never was confined in any institution, except boarding-
school, in my life.”
“Where then did you see the locks you
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