The
reader may at once perceive the art of this communication: I, having no
idea why I was confined, would of course continue to style myself by my
true name; and as long as I did this, so long would I be considered in a
deranged state. The reader must not therefore be surprised when I tell
him that I remained in Bedlam for one year and eight months. The doctor
called upon me for two or three days, and finding me quiet, ordered me
to be allowed books, paper, and ink, to amuse myself; but every attempt
at explanation was certain to be the signal for him to leave my
apartment. I found, therefore, not only by him, but from the keeper, who
paid no attention to anything I said, that I had no chance of being
listened to, or of obtaining my release.
After the first month, the doctor came to me no more: I was a quiet
patient, and he received the report of the keeper. I was sent there with
every necessary document to prove that I was mad; and, although a very
little may establish a case of lunacy, it requires something very strong
indeed to prove that you are in your right senses. In Bedlam I found it
impossible. At the same time I was well treated, was allowed all
necessary comforts, and such amusement as could be obtained from books,
&c. I had no reason to complain of the keeper--except that he was too
much employed to waste his time in listening to what he did not believe.
I wrote several letters to my sister and to O'Brien, during the first
two or three months, and requested the keeper to put them in the post.
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