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 sudden
ness, 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-"
Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe Page 118