Stonehearst Asylum

Is not [Ire only such affliction.

And so we come to that condition

which most often afflicts the more nervous sex.

Hysteria.

Derived from {he Greek for 'uterus'.

Much studied by the French,

it has of late come under the scrutiny of our Austrian colleagues-.

Tonight, we'll endeavor to add a British accent lo this chorus.

Bring in (he patient, please.

As you can see,

the patient is a comely woman of five and thirty years

who has been under my care a! Bethlehem Hospital.

Of impeccable breeding, she has suffered much of her life

from the classic symptoms of the chronic hysteria.

Who can tell me what these are'?

Lassitude?

Correct. Another.

The tingling of the extremities.

Yes. Another. Convulsions.

Sometimes called “hysteria fits',

during which the patient may become violent,

dangerously unmanageable.

Which is why, as a precautionary measure,

I've had her injected with four grains of heroin.

One cannot be too careful when attempting to trigger a fit in a clinical setting.

As I shall new endeavor to do.

Please.

I beseech you, sir, do not.

Shh, Shh, Shh.

The trigger point... Help me.

Help me.

One of you, please.

Look at me.

Lam not mad.

I am not mad. Look at me.

The trigger point may be hidden anywhere in the female anatomy.

Mus! Often upon the breasts.

Do nut touch me. The inner thighs.

Or the ovaries.

the tonic and clonic spasms.

Concluding finally

in a profound contracture.

Watch yourself.

She's started her monthly bleeding-.

Next patient, please. Bring in (he patient.

Any questions? What of the woman's insistence (hat she is not mad?

Just as every criminal maintains he's innocent,

so does every mad woman insist she is sane.

But she seemed so-Reasonable?

Perhaps. Well bred?

Beautiful?

She is all these things.

And quite mad.

And therein He's the paradox of insanity

and the great peril of our profession.

Thus, I caution you all, gentlemen,

as you embark on your careers as alienists,

believe nothing that you hear

and only one half of what you see.

Bloody hell.

Hey! Wait!

Hello there. Excuse me.

I beg you, stop-.

At first, Da didn't want In stop

on account you may be a lunatic who escaped,

bu! I convinced him you couldn't be

since you're headed toward the madhouse and not away from it.

Ah, clever deduction.

And you look like a man who's only lost his way, not his mind.

Well, I'm grateful. Thank you.

Are you visiting someone at Stonehearst?

Actually' going there to complete my training as an alienist.

That's a doctor who specializes in asylum medicine.

Weir, I can ref! You?! be a good one.

You have kind eyes.

Aw, thank you.

The madhouse is just up that hill.

You're certain'? Oh, yes. Look!

I don't see anything.

Merry Christmas.

Hello?

Hello!

And who the feck might you be?

Ah, good God.

Good afternoon, sir. I'm-I'm Edward Newgate.

Dr. Edward Newgate, from Oxford.

Might-Might you let me in'?

Well, now, that depends. Were we expecting you?

Well. I hope so. I did send a letter lathe superintendent here.

Mus! Have been weeks ago new.

Well, the post isn't regular this time of the year-.

Oh, really? I...

I'm just acting (he maggot. Of course you can come in, Ted.

What kind of Christian would I be to leave another outside to freeze his onions off?

And on Christmas Eve no less.

Well, thank you so much. I-I do appreciate it.

My name's Finn.

I'm the chief steward.

Welcome to our little madhouse in the wilderness.

Presently we have 200 residents at Stonehearst.

Sons and daughters of some of the finest families in the realm.

We have lords, dukes. We even have a cousin of the Queen.

Now, she likes to finger paint with her awn shite.

There you go, Rosie.

We have a Viscount who's convinced he has two heads,

and an earl who thinks he's a teapot-

Seriously.

Wait-Wait here.

The doctor will be along shortly.

Right, yes.

Trephination.

An arcane medical procedure performed by savages

upon those possessed oi evil spirits.

By boring a hole in the skull,

they believed it would allow the demons to escape-.

Let us be thankful we live in more enlightened times,

don't you agree, doctor...?

Newgate. Edward Newgate, from Oxford.

Forgive me for turning up unannounced.

I did write a letter. It's just your Mr. Finn tells me it never arrived.

An Oxford man is always welcome here.

SO,

what brings you lo Stonehearst?

Well. As I wrote in my letter,

I had hoped I would observe your methods in or...

Oh, no, thank you. Nonsense.

You've had an arduous voyage.

From the backwaters of blissful ignorance

across vast oceans of academic blather

until at last you've arrived here,

on the shores of my little kingdom.

And at the dawn of a new century, no less.

SO,

it's asylum medicine you wish to practice-.

Uh, yes, since as lung as I can remember.

Why'? I'm sorry?

Why not some specialty that's held in higher regard? Surgery, for instance.

I don't much care for blood, I suppose-.

Tropical medicine then. Or problems of the female anatomy.

Both offer better pay.

Well. I've always been fascinated by the troubled mind.

So is a priest But he at least is guaranteed heaven.

What do you hope to gain?

The satisfaction of helping those in hell.

See. Of all the afflictions, I can think of none more,

more cruel than madness, sir.

See, it robs a man of his reason,

his dignity, his very soul.

And it does so,

so slowly, without the remorse of death.

Please, sir.

I have the desire and the training.

All I lack is the clinical experience.

Time for afternoon rounds.

Of course. I didn't wish lo keep you...

Join me, Doctor. Thank you-.

Mr. Finn, help the doctor off with his coat, would you?

Thank you.

You 'If find as well-stacked with the usual' cases.

Neurasthenia, dementia praecox,

incurable homosexuality, epilepsy, melancholia.

But where we differ from other asylums

is in the social station of our patients.

All hail from the finest families in Europe.

For instance, Terrance here

is heir to one of the largest rail road fortunes in the continent.

And what is the nature of his disorder?

He suffers from an utter lack of interest in trains.

So his family had him committed?

Interesting case this one.

Signore Balzoni was thrown from his horse during a polo match in Milan

and ever since he's believed himself ta be an Arabian stall/an.

He gets a tad agitated at feeding times.

Please go ahead.

You'll find most of our patients are here

because they are embarrassments to their families.

Outcasts.

Signore, give the gentleman his arm back

or I shall be forced to withhold grooming for a week.

You-You groom him?

Small price to pay to keep him contented-.

Isn't that reinforcing his delusion? Yes.

What, you don't attempt lo cure your patients?

Cure them? To what purpose?

Well. To bring them back lo their senses, of course.

And make a miserable man out of a perfectly happy horse.

Madame. Your Eminence.

Is it always this lively?

Here we do not believe in sedating our patients

into a stupor with bromides and the like.

We prefer to celebrate them in their natural unadulterated state.

Check.

Mm.

Good afternoon, my lovely.

Nurse. Nurse?

Has she eaten today?

She refuses to eat until her son returns from the war.

He was killed in action in Peshawar, '85.

Have you tried a feeding tube?

We do not use such medieval methods here.