Nellie Bly - 10 Days in a Madhouse

ON the 22d of September I was asked by the World if I could havemyself committed to one of the asylums for the insane in New York,with a view to writing a plain and unvarnished narrative of thetreatment of the patients therein and the methods of management,etc. Did I think I had the courage to go through such an ordeal asthe mission would demand? Could I assume the characteristics ofinsanity to such a degree that I could pass the doctors, live for aweek among the insane without the authorities there finding outthat I was only a "chiel amang 'em takin' notes?" I said I believedI could. I had some faith in my own ability as an actress andthought I could assume insanity long enough to accomplish anymission intrusted to me. Could I pass a week in the insane ward atBlackwell's Island? I said I could and I would. And I did.
My instructions were simply to go on with my work as soon as I feltthat I was ready. I was to chronicle faithfully the experiences Iunderwent, and when once within the walls of the asylum to find outand describe its inside workings, which are always, so effectuallyhidden by white-capped nurses, as well as by bolts and bars, fromthe knowledge of the public. "We do not ask you to go there for thepurpose of making sensational revelations. Write up things as youfind them, good or bad; give praise or blame as you think best, andthe truth all the time. But I am afraid of that chronic smile ofyours," said the editor. "I will smile no more," I said, and I wentaway to execute my delicate and, as I found out, difficultmission.
If I did get into the asylum, which I hardly hoped to do, I had noidea that my experiences would contain aught else than a simpletale of life in an asylum. That such an institution could bemismanaged, and that cruelties could exist 'neath its roof, I didnot deem possible. I always had a desire to know asylum life morethoroughlya desire to be convinced that the most helpless of God'screatures, the insane, were cared for kindly and properly. The manystories I had read of abuses in such institutions I had regarded aswildly exaggerated or else romances, yet there was a latent desireto know positively.
I shuddered to think how completely the insane were in the power oftheir keepers, and how one could weep and plead for release, andall of no avail, if the keepers were so minded. Eagerly I acceptedthe mission to learn the inside workings of the Blackwell IslandInsane Asylum.
"How will you get me out," I asked my editor, "after I once getin?"
"I do not know," he replied, "but we will get you out if we have totell who you are, and for what purpose you feigned insanityonlyget in."
I had little belief in my ability to deceive the insanity experts,and I think my editor had less.
All the preliminary preparations for my ordeal were left to beplanned by myself. Only one thing was decided upon, namely, that Ishould pass under the pseudonym of Nellie Brown, the initials ofwhich would agree with my own name and my linen, so that therewould be no difficulty in keeping track of my movements andassisting me out of any difficulties or dangers I might get into.There were ways of getting into the insane ward, but I did not knowthem. I might adopt one of two courses. Either I could feigninsanity at the house of friends, and get myself committed on thedecision of two competent physicians, or I could go to my goal byway of the police courts.
Nellie practices insanity at home.
On reflection I thought it wiser not to inflict myself upon myfriends or to get any good-natured doctors to assist me in mypurpose. Besides, to get to Blackwell's Island my friends wouldhave had to feign poverty, and, unfortunately for the end I had inview, my acquaintance with the struggling poor, except my own self,was only very superficial. So I determined upon the plan which ledme to the successful accomplishment of my mission. I succeeded ingetting committed to the insane ward at Blackwell's Island, where Ispent ten days and nights and had an experience which I shall neverforget. I took upon myself to enact the part of a poor, unfortunatecrazy girl, and felt it my duty not to shirk any of thedisagreeable results that should follow. I became one of the city'sinsane wards for that length of time, experienced much, and saw andheard more of the treatment accorded to this helpless class of ourpopulation, and when I had seen and heard enough, my release waspromptly secured. I left the insane ward with pleasure andregretpleasure that I was once more able to enjoy the free breathof heaven; regret that I could not have brought with me some of theunfortunate women who lived and suffered with me, and who, I amconvinced, are just as sane as I was and am now myself.
But here let me say one thing: From the moment I entered the insaneward on the Island, I made no attempt to keep up the assumed roleof insanity. I talked and acted just as I do in ordinary life. Yetstrange to say, the more sanely I talked and acted the crazier Iwas thought to be by all except one physician, whose kindness andgentle ways I shall not soon forget.

BUT to return to my work and my mission. After receiving myinstructions I returned to my boarding-house, and when evening cameI began to practice the role in which I was to make my debut on themorrow. What a difficult task, I thought, to appear before a crowdof people and convince them that I was insane. I had never beennear insane persons before in my life, and had not the faintestidea of what their actions were like. And then to be examined by anumber of learned physicians who make insanity a specialty, and whodaily come in contact with insane people! How could I hope to passthese doctors and convince them that I was crazy? I feared thatthey could not be deceived. I began to think my task a hopelessone; but it had to be done. So I flew to the mirror and examined myface. I remembered all I had read of the doings of crazy people,how first of all they have staring eyes, and so I opened mine aswide as possible and stared unblinkingly at my own reflection. Iassure you the sight was not reassuring, even to myself, especiallyin the dead of night. I tried to turn the gas up higher in hopesthat it would raise my courage. I succeeded only partially, but Iconsoled myself with the thought that in a few nights more I wouldnot be there, but locked up in a cell with a lot of lunatics.
The weather was not cold; but, nevertheless, when I thought of whatwas to come, wintery chills ran races up and down my back in verymockery of the perspiration which was slowly but surely taking thecurl out of my bangs. Between times, practicing before the mirrorand picturing my future as a lunatic, I read snatches of improbableand impossible ghost stories, so that when the dawn came to chaseaway the night, I felt that I was in a fit mood for my mission, yethungry enough to feel keenly that I wanted my breakfast. Slowly andsadly I took my morning bath and quietly bade farewell to a few ofthe most precious articles known to modern civilization. Tenderly Iput my tooth-brush aside, and, when taking a final rub of the soap,I murmured, "It may be for days, and it may befor longer." Then Idonned the old clothing I had selected for the occasion. I was inthe mood to look at everything through very serious glasses. It'sjust as well to take a last "fond look," I mused, for who couldtell but that the strain of playing crazy, and being shut up with acrowd of mad people, might turn my own brain, and I would never getback. But not once did I think of shirking my mission. Calmly,outwardly at least, I went out to my crazy business.