Whispers of Bedlam Asylum (Sigmund Shaw Book 2) (30 page)

Epilogue

Excerpts from
The Strand Magazine
of the article:

Whispers of Bedlam Asylum

by Charlotte Merrihail

The whispered rumours are true. The awful, terrible rumours of life in Bedlam Asylum are true. At worst, I thought they would be hyperbole, but no, they are unfortunate fact. I did not want it to be so as that puts some responsibility, and dare I say culpability, to all of us who have heard these stories and did nothing. However we justified our inaction, those poor patients suffered for it.

Some may argue, or at least question, is there sorrow without sanity? The answer is ‘yes.’ I lived among them and the emotions were real. They may not always understand what is happening to them or around them, but they felt the sadness and hardship that life in Bedlam provided. Just because there is difficulty in articulating their feelings, does not make them any less real. Now, I do not present this from any high moral ground, no, I present this from among you as one who shares in the guilt.

*

Going into the asylum, I did not expect to make friends or even acquaintances, for how could a sane person truly relate to the insane, but how wrong I was. There were those patients that were non-communicative and even violent, but there were many who were kind and helpful. The number of patients who do not belong in that place is a fearful number I never considered possible. They are trapped with next to no hope of release. The foremost of these are Annelise Devine and Jenaca Rose. One was abandoned in Bedlam for the sadness she felt at the death of her child. The other was placed there to avoid the potential embarrassment of having a strong woman in the family. Tell me, where is the insanity in these cases? If any is to be found, it is certainly not with those that were admitted, but with those that admitted them. A true and fair evaluation of all patients should be conducted at the soonest possible instance. Unjustified imprisonment cannot be tolerated.

*

I have mentioned the atrocities conducted by many of the staff and am happy to report that most are now under the care of the police. But it would not be fair to paint all with the same broad brushstroke. I refer first to Mrs. Rathbone. This remarkable woman gave proper care and treatment to the patients. A long time employee, she somehow avoided the pitfalls of apathy and jadedness. It would be hard to imagine that place without her steady influence.

Even Doctor Madfyre had his moments. Ultimately, many bad things happened under his watch as Head Doctor, but spending a little time with him convinced me that he wanted to help. My feelings are torn about him, but ultimately I think he is better suited purely as a doctor, not as an administrator. He cared about fixing things and little else.

The last one I mentioned is the biggest conundrum. He was the kindest of all the staff but also proved to be the worst. Mr. Silvester Thursby. As was mentioned previously in this article, he was responsible for the unsanctioned experimentation and death of several patients. There is no excuse for this and he will likely hang for his crimes. However, without the effects of the serum, he truly cared for the patients under his purview. He chose to help even when it made him unpopular with the other staff. No doubt the fact that his own fiancé was a patient helped him to understand that these poor individuals deserved care. Not caring for all would be tantamount to not caring for her.

It is sad that this bright hero of Bedlam became its darkest monster.

*

There seems to be no end to my nightmares after my experiences in Bedlam, just as there seems to be no end to the unkindness of man. As I am aware that some will doubt my claims, I take this moment to reassure you that all that I have written is the truth. I would like to think that my mind could not even dream up the atrocities I have written about. Be assured, dear reader, I am no story teller. The misery is real.

Also real are the preventable deaths of several patients and a staff member. The known ones are:

Prudence Goddard

Delphine Hubert

Roland Oxley

Dr. Gareth Exton

Cecil Vickers

Xavier Dalby

You may question me and this article all you desire, but it will not bring back, nor erase, the deaths of these individuals nor the ongoing torment of the other Bedlam patients.

I give renewed thanks for the life I have as a common Londoner, the same kind of life enjoyed by countless others. Now, I do not believe that something bad has to be experienced in order to appreciate the good. However, there is no question that a bad experience can help focus ones attention on the good they have. I am living proof of that. The simplicity of my bed shall nevermore be taken for granted.

But my ecstasy over daily comforts is tainted by the knowledge that those trapped in Bedlam have nothing approaching comfort in any form. It is an inhuman existence that cannot be tolerated. I, for one, will fight for the improved treatment, the meeting of basic needs of patients, not just in Bedlam, but in any asylum in England.

I urge all of you to stand and fight with me – not for glory of country, not for riches or fame, but for the sake of human decency. As a society, we are better than what I saw, we are better than those who mistreat unfortunates. Do not simply stand by in ignorance or disbelief anymore.

If our collective conscience is not pricked by the facts I have recorded, then we are witnessing the end of goodness. I beg you, be strong and rise above the obstacle of our apathy.

*   *   *

Excerpts from
The Strand Magazine
of the article:

The Beast of Bedlam

by Charlotte Merrihail

I mentioned in previous articles that there are many patients in Bedlam Asylum who simply do not belong there, however, there are many that do. None more so than Roland Oxley, better known as The Beast of Bedlam.

I did not meet this man personally, but talked to several that did. His condition in Bedlam was one of utter madness. It was as if he had given up on anything approaching rationality and gave in to the basest of thoughts. Animalistic is the consistent expression that people used when describing him.

My curiosity as to what could make an individual give up his humanity in that way led me to investigate his past and to share the history of this poor individual. For the sake of simplicity, and more importantly, dignity, I shall refer to him as Roland for the remainder of the article.

It was with some difficulty that I found the history for Roland. Whether from a sense of propriety or a desire to avoid embarrassment, his story was well hidden. I had thought my investigation over if it wasn’t for the fortuitous discovery of a house servant that once served his family that the history can be known. The servant shall remain nameless as she was worried about her current position and how any notoriety might affect it.

Roland was the child of Dominic and Katherine Oxley. They lived just North of London in a nice home with one housemaid. Dominic Oxley worked as a foreman at a manufacturing plant and was successful by all accounts. I talked to a few of the men who were under Dominic and, without exception, they each had the same impression of the man, that he was strict and had high standards – none could shed any light on his home life as he never spoke to them about anything except work.

When Roland was three years old, he became very ill and sustained a dangerously high fever. His mother, Katherine, stayed by the boys side doing everything she could to help him. Unfortunately, Katherine became ill as well. The house servant was tasked with the care of both of them and did her best, but also tried to keep a distance for fear of becoming sick herself. She recalled that Mr. Oxley was worried and frustrated during this time with not knowing how to control the situation.

After two weeks, Katherine died from the illness. The boy, Roland, was not so fortunate. He lived, but the sickness or the fever had affected his mind. He stopped talking and became non-responsive to those around him.

This is the point where Roland started to become the animal that he was described as when older – but not so much because of his mind, but because of the treatment that he had to endure. His father was in complete distress at the loss of his wife. Although there is no one to truly blame in this kind of situation, let alone a three year old child, Dominic directed all his anger towards his son.

The first abominable thing Dominic did was to declare that not only had his wife died from illness, but so had Roland. He did not want the embarrassment of having a child who was insane. To achieve this illusion, Roland was moved from the nursery to the attic where he was left alone for most of the day. The house servant tried to give attention to the poor boy, but could never make up for the abysmal treatment of his father.

Before too long, Roland found ways out of the attic on his own. The servant allowed this but always made sure that he was back in the attic prior to his father’s arrival home. When Dominic Oxley returned from work early one day and found his son sitting in his old nursery, he became enraged. “What if there was a visitor?” he screamed at the house servant. To remedy this problem, Dominic shackled Roland with chains in the attic. These chains created the limit of Roland’s world for more than fifteen years.

If this was all that was done to Roland, it would probably be enough to explain his ferociousness. He was, for all intents and purposes, locked up like an animal. However, there is more to report. When Roland was around ten, his father started to beat him. The house servant reported that there was nothing particularly different about when the beatings started, but something in Dominic’s mind felt the urge to attack his own son.

Despite my investigation, I cannot find what triggered this change. Perhaps things were bad at work or perhaps a new relationship went poorly. In any event, Roland endured regular and unprovoked attacks by his own father.

The boy became more and more fearful and withdrawn. As this continued, he also became unpredictable, even aggressive. The house servant would continue to bring meals and try and clean him, but it was increasingly difficult, and eventually she was too afraid to approach him at all.

When Roland was nineteen – the house servant always kept track – things changed forever. She came to the home to prepare breakfast for Mr. Oxley. Entering the kitchen she began to gather the items needed until a sound from another part of the house grabbed her attention. It wasn’t the normal noises of Mr. Oxley getting ready, it was sporadic and even sounded a bit like something dragging. She left the kitchen to make sure everything was alright and found the body of Dominic Oxley on the floor of the sitting room. He looked beaten, scratched, and thoroughly dead. Immediately she left to report this to the police. After contacting them, they sent a few men along with her to investigate the supposed murder. Prior to entering the home, she felt it necessary to tell them about Roland. After confirming the death of Mr. Oxley and determining that his wounds were positively not self-inflicted, they searched the house.

They found Roland in the nursery. He still had shackles on his wrists, but the chains were no longer attached to anything. He must have finally broke them free from the rafter that they were secured to. He attacked the police, scratching, hitting, kicking and even biting them. Eventually, the two officers were able to subdue him and take him in. It was clear that Roland was the murderer they were looking for.

The house servant watched as they took the boy away. She remembered how surprised she was at the tears that came to her.
What life would Roland have?
she wondered.
Could it be worse than the life he had here?
After that day, she had never spoke about the Oxley’s to anyone, until I approached her. She wished to forget that part of her life, not only for the awful situation, but because she feels guilty for not doing more to help the poor boy.

It is amazing to me that the life that Roland had in Bedlam was better than his life at home. That is not to say that Bedlam was kind to him, it was not, but his own father’s treatment was that much worse.

I ask this question in conclusion: Who was more insane, more a lunatic, Roland or his father? There is no question that Roland had mental issues, but the inhuman decisions made by Dominic seem the worse of the two. To consciously and knowingly treat another person, especially a family member, the way that he did screams of mental issues of a particularly dark sort.