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The Incurables: Exploring London's History of Mental Health through Dramatic Re-enactment

Premise The Incurables is a walking tour which follows famous American poet Walt Whitman and his friend Richard Maurice Bucke, the superintendent of London’s Asylum for the Insane. The audience will follow them on their walk-through downtown London. The walking tour is set in 1880, during the only recorded visit of Walt Whitman to London. The tour will stop at various locations to watch vignettes about Victorian London citizens dealing with mental health concerns. The Whitman and Bucke dialogue bookends each vignette, framing the different historical discussions about mental health from their perspectives. There are six stops: 1. 1st Hussars Museum. 2. Old Jail. 3. Covent Garden Market. 4. Fanshawe Downtown Campus. 5. St. Paul’s Anglican Cathedral. 6. Victoria Park

Stop One: 1st Hussars Museum The first stop on the re-enactment introduces the audience to the historical friendship between Richard Maurice Bucke and Walt Whitman, which provides a frame narrative to surround the subsequent scenes featuring asylum patients. As the Medical Superintendent of the London Asylum, Bucke’s presence in the frame narrative is a counterpoint to the “history from below” perspective of the other vignettes. As the audience walks alongside Bucke and Whitman, they are forced to continually balance between voices of authority and the voices of the marginalized. Whitman’s voice in the drama, however, further complicates this dichotomy. Whitman is relevant to our project not only because of his connection to Bucke and to London, but because of his interest in the work of the asylum, his own struggles with depression, and his complex relationship with his brother, who was committed to an insane asylum in 1864. Furthermore, Whitman’s self-identification as a poet of the people and the voice of American democracy underscores our project’s focus on “people’s history.” As a dear friend of Bucke and a visitor of London, as a man with a fraught history with mental health , and as a writer who sought to make poetry accessible for all through his use of blank verse and democratized language, Walt Whitman is a perfect muse for a “history from below” project about the patients of the London Asylum for the Insane in the late 19TH century.

Portraying Whitman – Notes on Whitman’s Appearance Perhaps the richest vein of source material for our dramatic portrayal of Walt Whitman comes from the Richard Maurice Bucke’s biography of the poet. In chapter two of the biography, Page | 2 entitled “The Poet in 1880,” Bucke gives us a detailed physical description of Whitman as he appeared in London:

On the 31st of May, 1880, Walt Whitman was sixty-one years of age. At first sight he looked much older, so that he was often supposed to be seventy or even eighty. He is six feet in height, and quite straight. He weighs nearly two hundred pounds. His body and limbs are full-sized and well-proportioned. His head is large and rounded in every direction, the top a little higher than a semicircle from the front to the back would make it. Though his face and head give the appearance of being plentifully supplied with hair, the crown is moderately bald ; on the sides and back the hair long, very fine, and nearly snow-white. The eyebrows are highly arched, so that it is a long distance from the eye to the centre of the eyebrow (this is the facial feature that strikes one most at first sight). The eyes themselves are light blue, not large, indeed, in proportion to the head and face they seemed to me rather small ; they are dull and heavy, not expressive what expression they have is kindness, composure, suavity….The eyelids are full, the upper commonly droops nearly half over the globe of the eye. The nose is broad, strong, and quite straight ; it is full-sized, but not large in proportion to the rest of the face ; it does not descend straight from the fore head, but dips down somewhat between the eyes with a long sweep. The mouth is full-sized, the lips full. The sides and lower part of the face are covered with a fine white beard, which is long enough to come down a little way on the breast. The upper lip bears a heavy mustache. The ear is very large, especially long from above downwards, heavy, and remarkably hand some. I believe all the poet’s senses are exceptionally acute, his hearing especially so ; no sound or modulation of sound perceptible to others escapes him, and he seems to hear many things that to ordinary folk are inaudible (49)

Portraying Whitman: Notes on Manner Bucke’s writing also tells us how Whitman conducted himself around others: “The habitual expression of his face is repose, but there is a well-marked firmness and decision. I have never seen his look, even momentarily, express contempt, or any vicious feeling. I have never known him to sneer at any person or thing, or to manifest in any way or degree either alarm or apprehension, though he has in my presence been placed in circumstances that would have caused both in most men… No description can give any idea of the extraordinary physical attractiveness of the man. I do not speak now of the affection of friends and of those who are much with him, but of the magnetism exercised by him upon people who merely see him for a few minutes or pass him on the street” (49).

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There are also several photographic portraits of Whitman taken in London in the summer of 1880 by James Newbury and William Daniel of Edy Bros. Photography Studio.

Portraying Whitman: Notes on Clothing Bucke also describes Whitman’s everyday clothing in detail, which will prove useful in finding accurate costumes for Whitman’s actor: “Walt Whitman’s dress was always extremely plain. He usually wore in pleasant weather a light-gray suit of good woollen cloth. The only thing peculiar about his dress was that he had no neck tie at any time, and always wore shirts with very large turn down collars, the button at the neck some five or six inches lower than usual, so that the throat and upper part of the breast were exposed. In all other respects he dressed in a substantial, neat, plain, common way. Everything he wore, and everything about him, was always scrupulously clean. His clothes might (and often did) show signs of wear, or they might be torn or have holes worn in them ; but they never looked soiled. Indeed, an exquisite aroma of cleanliness has always been one of the special features of the man ; it has always belonged to his clothes, his breath, his whole body, his eating and drinking, his conversation, and no one could know him for an hour without seeing that it penetrated his mind and life, and was in fact the expression of a purity which was physical as much as moral, and moral as much as physical” (51).

Portraying Whitman: Notes on Voice Bucke’s biography of Whitman provides extensive descriptions of the poet’s voice. We can learn much about Whitman’s patterns of speech and mannerisms from reading Bucke’s accounts of Whitman’s conversations. In the opening of Chapter 3 of the biography, Bucke writes “He did not talk much. Sometimes, while remaining cheery and good-natured, he would speak very little all day. His conversation, when he did talk, was at all times easy and unconstrained” (59). Bucke also mentions Whitman’s “deep, clear, earnest voice” that was not “characteristic of any nationality, accent, or dialect” (59).

Later in the chapter, Bucke writes “His conversation, speaking generally, is of current affairs, work of the day, political and historical news, European as well as American, a little of books, much of the aspects of Nature, as scenery, the stars, birds, flowers, and trees. He reads the news papers regularly (I used to tell him that was the only vice he had) He likes good descriptions and reminiscences. He does not, on the whole, talk much anyhow. His manner is invariably calm and simple, belongs to itself alone, and could not be fully de scribed or conveyed. As before told, he is fond of singing to himself snatches of songs from the operas or oratorios, often a simple strain of recitative, a sort of musical murmur, and he sings in that way a large part of the time when he is alone, especially when he is outdoors. He spends most of his time outdoors when the weather permits, and as a general thing he does not stay in for rain or snow, but I think likes them in turn as well as the sunshine. He recites poetry often to himself as well as to others, and he recites well, very well. He never recites his own poetry (he does not seem to know any of it). Yet he sometimes reads it, when asked by some one he wants to gratify, and he reads it well. I do not know whether or not he can be said to sing well ; but whether he does or not, his voice is so agreeable that it is always a pleasure to hear” (69-70).

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Whitman in London – Whitman’s Writings Whitman’s visit to London is well-documented in his diaries, which provide insight into Whitman’s perception of London, and give us a sense of his everyday use of language. Whitman’s diary entries for the Summer of 1880 were written down on fragmentary pieces of paper from the London Asylum for the Insane. This is evidenced by the fact that most of entries appear to be written on the asylum’s stationary. Whitman often appeared to turn the paper around and write on the back. On many of the pages, the asylum’s letterhead appears. In the images below, we see Whitman’s first entry, with the asylum letterhead visible on the reverse leaf showing through the page.

In addition to the material form of the diary, the content of Whitman’s journal entries in Canada have much to tell us about Whitman’s time in London. The above entry, dated “London, Ontario, June 18, 1880,“ features a description of the London landscape: “Calm and glorious roll the hours here —the whole twenty-four. A perfect day (the third in succession); the sun clear; a faint fresh, just palpable air setting in from the southwest; temperature pretty warm at midday, but moderate enough mornings and evenings. Everything growing well, especially the perennials. Never have I see verdure – grass and trees and bushery – to greater advantage. All the accompaniments joyous. Cat-birds, thrushes, robins, etc., singing. The profuse blossoms of the tiger-lily (is it the tiger-lily?) mottling the lawns and gardens everywhere with their glowing orange-red. Roses everywhere too”

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In the subsequent entry pictured below, Whitman reflects on his trip to Canada. He writes “Such a procession of long-drawn-out, delicious half-lights nearly every evening, continuing on till ‘most 9 o’clock all through the last two weeks of June and the first two of July! It was worth coming to Canada to get these long-stretched sunsets in their temper’d shade and lingering, lingering twilights, if nothing more.”

Notes on Whitman at the Asylum In other diary entries Whitman recounts his walks through London and the asylum grounds. In an entry dated “Night of Saturday, July 3rd,” Whitman writes “Good night for stars and heavens; perfectly still and cloudless, fresh and cool enough; evenings very long; pleasant twilight till nine o’clock all through the last half of June and the first half of July. These are my most pleasant hours. The air is pretty cool, but I find it enjoyable and like to saunter the well-kept roads. Went out about 10 on a solitary ramble in the grounds, slow through the fresh air, over the gravel walks and velvety grass, with many pauses, many upward gazing. It was again an exceptional night for the show and sentiment of the stars, very still and clear, not a cloud, and neither warm not cold..” Bucke confirms Whitman’s habit of walking in his biography of Whitman, writing “His favourite occupation seemed to be strolling or sauntering about outdoors by himself, looking at the grass, the trees, the flowers, the vistas of light, the varying aspects of the sky, and listening to the birds, the crickets, the tree-frogs, the wind in the trees, and all the hundreds of natural sounds and shows (52). The full image of the manuscript can be seen here. In the following entry, Whitman writes: “A vert enjoyable hour or two this evening. They sent for me to come down in the parlour to hear my friend M.E.L., a deaf and dumb young woman, give some recitations (of course by pantomime, not a word spoken). She gave first an Indian legend – the warriors, the women, the woods, the action of an old child, etc., very expressive. But best of all, and indeed a wonderful performance, she rendered Christ stilling the tempest (from Luke, is it?). Full image available here. A close reading of Whitman’s journal opens a window into specific episodes explored dramatically in our project.

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Whitman and Thomas Nicholson Whitman befriended an attendant at Bucke’s asylum named Thomas Nicholson. Upon returning home to the United States from his Summer in Canada, Whitman sent several letters to Nicholson, in which he reiterates his appreciation for the “beautiful grass and spacious lawns there around the asylum.” Nicholson responded by urging Whitman to return to London: “Things in the asylum is quite lively now the Dances and Plays is in full blast now, and they make the Winter pass quite lively, Dr. Bucke and family and all the asylum people is well… Everybody loves you, and you wount be no stranger this time and you will like it hear in the Winter. I gus I will bring my letter to a close, By sending the Love of all the asylum Employies to you, your name is never dead.” Full manuscript letter available here.

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Additional Research Notes on Whitman’s Time in Canada Whitman also wrote about his time in London in his 1882 work, Specimen Days. In a section entitled “Jaunting to Canada,” Whitman recounts travelling to London, Ontario on a “first class sleeper” train. He then gives us evidence of that he stayed at the asylum, writing “I am domiciled at the hospitable house of my friends Dr. and Mrs. Bucke, in the ample and charming garden and lawns of the asylum (14). Whitman discusses asylums in Ontario further in an August 1880 diary entry written from his room in “Dr. B’s house.” Whitman lauds the “benevolence” of Canadian society, specifically praising the quality of care in Ontario asylums.

In another section of Specimen Days, entitled “Sunday with the Insane,” Whitman gives us insight into his perception of the asylum patients. The passage reads: “Went over to the religious services (Episcopal) main Insane asylum, held in a lofty, good-sized hall, third story. Plain boards, whitewash, plenty of cheap chairs, no ornament or color, yet all scrupulously clean and sweet. Some three hundred persons present, mostly patients. Everything, the prayers, a shirt sermon, the firm, orotund voice of the minister, and most of all, beyond any portraying or suggesting, that audience, deeply impress’d me. I was furnish’d with an armchair near the pulpit and sat facing the motley, yet perfectly well-behaved and orderly congregation. The quaint dresses and bonnets of some of the women, several very old and gray, here and there like the heads in old pictures. O the looks that came from those faces! There were two or three I shall probably never forget” (162). Whitman then comments on his feelings of “common humanity” between himself and the asylum patients in the congregation, quoting the following line from his 1855 poetry collection Leaves of Grass: “The same old blood – the same red, running blood” (162). It is clear from his writings that Whitman viewed the asylum patients as human agents rather than dehumanized specimens. These sources serve to justify Whitman’s empathy for the asylum’s patients in our vignettes.

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Stop 2: The Old Jail William Everly sets the tone for the rest of the tour. Everly is based on a real patient named William E. He was a British officer, and while his last name is unknown, “Everly” is used because it is a popular British surname.1 The 13th Light Infantry Regiment is chosen as the most plausible choice for William’s backstory, since the regiment fought in Africa during the late 19th century. The Anglo-Zulu War is used in the backstory, because it is one of the more recognizable conflicts of the latter half of the 19th century. The war also helps develop the narrative of a civilizing mission, which shares similarities with the ideology of 19th century asylum work. Having served in South Africa during the Anglo-Zulu conflict 1879, the 13th Light Infantry consisted of British men in primarily front-line infantry roles. The unit did not serve in Canada but did see action in India justifying the claims that William had seen vast swaths of the empire.2 William’s service left him tired, homeless, and suicidal, all real symptoms and obstacles that William E. faced. William was admitted three times to the asylum for his faults, this scene in particular shows the augmentation of William’s problems to fit the familiar and frightening framework of post traumatic stress disorder. Post traumatic stress is common among soldiers returning home from war after being exposed to dangerous and traumatic events. It is characterized by lack of sleep, extreme irritability and angry outbursts, negative thoughts about themselves or the world, and staying away from reminders of the event.3 William was also a poet, and his language should reflect that.4 The character should not fall into the archetype of a damaged artist, but instead incorporate some of those real feelings as an aspect of the mentally scarred soldier. The position of the constables are fictional. The constables are based on a broad generalization of how most officers might have handled similar situations, as many police reports often use lively, generalized descriptions when arresting those who would be admitted to the asylum. For example, one report claims that the drunkard James S. was violent, suicidal, and the epitome of “everything that is bad.” These claims were dismissed by the residing doctor who said there was nothing wrong with James other than his vulnerability to alcohol and the odd violent outburst.5

1 C. L. Krasnick, “‘In Charge of the Loons’: A Portrait of the London, Ontario Asylum for the Insane in the Nineteenth Century,” Ontario History Vol. 74, No.3, (September 1982): 138-184, 144. 2 McToy, Edward. A Brief History of the 13th Regiment (PALI) in South Africa during the Transvaal and Zulu Difficulties 1877-8-9. Davenport: A.H. Swiss, 1880. 3 “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.” National Institute of Mental Health. U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. Accessed November 21, 2019. https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/post-traumatic-stress-disorder- ptsd/index.shtml. 4 In Charge of the Loons, 144 5 Ibid 146 Page | 9

Stop 3: Covent Garden Market This scene focuses on two London Asylum patients named James, and William E. James James was originally arrested for vagrancy and sentenced to thirty days hard labor. When in custody, he was “occasionally troublesome”, reverting to his abusive and threatening behavior that got him arrested. Part way through his labor, the Gaol physician oversaw James’ admission to the asylum.6 Some historians argue that instead of admitting prisoners to the asylum because they were mentally ill, police and gaol workers did so because they did not want to manage troublesome inmates.7 It is highly likely that James was admitted to the asylum for this reason, and the broader mentality is referenced by him in the scene. James represents the larger issue of homelessness, both in the 1800s and present London, Ontario. These people need to be supported in a compassionate way, not arrested or taken to an asylum.

Aspects of James’ character are also taken from broader homeless experiences in North America during the 1800s. The book Cast Out, edited by A. L. Beier and Paul Ocobock, is a collection of essays about vagrancy around the world. Frank Tobias Higbie’s essay is about North America during the 19th and 20th centuries, focusing on the “hobo” and how North American vagrants travelled, looking for work, begging for food, and never staying in the same town.8 This is referenced in the scene by James when he says “We move through different areas, trying to find work best we can. Hopefully get some food every once in a while.” Another theme raised by Higbie and mentioned by James is social control. Higbie says “vagrancy has always been a discourse of social control that criminalizes certain populations in order to facilitate selective punishment.”9 This fear and anger of institutional control is central to James’ character, who does not trust the asylum or the police because he sees through their “help” and understands their desire to criminalize and punish him. The other major criticism and injustice raised by James is how the police arrest vagrants for not having money, a job, or a permanent address, but he does not have access to the resources needed to get these things. These are reasons why the homeless were arrested in the 1800s,10 and the comment James makes about how each relies on the other is a speculative, but logical, assertion.

One London, Ontario vagrant continually arrested during the same time period, and recorded in the London Free Press, makes up the final part of James’ character. The vagrant, named Alexander Thomas, was charged with vagrancy twice, being drunk five times, and assault once.11 Thomas

6 Ibid 153. 7 Ibid, 146. 8 Frank Tobias Higbie, “Between Romance and Degradation Navigating the Meanings of Vagrancy in North America, 1870-1940,” in Cast Out: Vagrancy and Homelessness in Global and Historical Perspective, ed. A. L. Beier and Paul Ocobock, (Ohio: Ohio University Press, 2008), 250. 9 Ibid, 153. 10 Ibid, 264. 11 Charged with vagrancy in “Alexander, Thomas,” London Free Press, 23 September 1878; “Alexander, Thomas,” London Free Press, 19 February 1880. Charged with being drunk in “Alexander, Thomas,” London Free Press, 11 September 1879; “Alexander, Thomas,” London Free Press, 8 October 1879; “Alexander, Thomas,” London Free Press, 8 November 1879; “Alexander, Thomas,” London Free Press, 10 November 1879; “Alexander, Thomas,” London Free Press, 9 December 1879. Charged with assault in “Alexander, Thomas,” London Free Press, 3 July 1879. Page | 10 shares a violent streak with James, who was considered “occasionally troublesome,” and shows a common connection between vagrants. James alludes to this anger when he says “just a little riled that I got nowhere to sleep and the police keep coming for me.” The other aspect of Thomas included in James’ character is alcoholism. The scene is short, so there is not much time devoted to it, but there are a few lines to sub-textually represent James as an alcoholic. It is important to raise the connection between alcohol addiction, addiction more broadly, and homelessness.

William E. There is less known about William E.’s life experience. This is okay, since this scene focuses on James and homelessness. William’s purpose is to flesh out James’ experiences, while adding some other interesting historical information form his own. William E. was admitted to the asylum three times. The first two times were for suicidal melancholia. After he was first released, he attempted suicide and was admitted for suicidal melancholia again. Clearly, William would be very uncomfortable talking about this to a stranger on the street, so when he does mention this in the scene, it is brief. He was not committed for his third admission, rather he asked the sheriff to be arrested and sent back. This admission is interesting because there are two possible reasons for why he did it. The first is that he claimed he was nervous and had not slept. This could be a downplay for more suicidal ideation, or simply what he described. The second was a worry from the asylum’s administration that William was trying to escape his bad home situation and was not insane.12 Both these reasons are mentioned in the scene and kept ambiguous, so the audience feels the same uncertainty as the historical record. William says he is going back because of the nervousness and lack of sleep, but he also mentions having a bad home life and having nowhere else to go. He also suggests the asylum as a better option for James than the street. This ambiguity is important for William who is generally an uncertain character, trying to make the best decision he can. This is especially depicted at the end of the scene, when he reflects on how his choices resulted in James’ arrest.

12 In Charge of the Loons , 151-152. Page | 11

Stop 4: Fanshawe Downtown Campus The intention of this scene is to mirror Mary Matilda’s experiences with modern women in academia. The historical Mary Matilda E. (known in in patient records as patient #845) was a school teacher in London. The London Asylum staff claimed that she was admitted because of her excessive study and teaching position. She is also recorded making claims that she had the brain of a man and was a “Queen Philosopher”.13 These aspects are portrayed in the dialogue between Mary Matilda and her sister Margaret Ann, playing on the intellectual differences between the two. One of the themes in their dialogue is Mary Matilda’s inability to marry if she continues in academia. During the 19th century, a single female teacher was ideal.14 In Toronto during the 1880’s, more than half of the women employed as school teachers lived with their parents, whereas the male school teachers were the heads of their own households.15 It was thought that if women believed themselves to be like men, and continually acted like men, then they would be a danger to themselves and the family unit itself.16 These themes are reflected when Mary Matilda quotes Plato, discusses her interests in reading, and disregards her sister’s warning. Mary Matilda is recorded in the asylum records as being occasionally violent by striking others and throwing dishes, as well as attempting to “save people from [their] sins”.17 This aspect is only referenced briefly in the scene, when Mary Matilda throws a book at her sister during the climax of the fight. Margaret Ann primarily acts as a foil for Mary Matilda’s ideology. Religious zeal is the aspect of Margaret Ann’s character which is most emphasized in this scene. This is seen when she urges Mary Matilda to pray and sing hymns with her. In actuality, Margaret Ann was a patient in the asylum as well. The Asylum staff attributed heredity as a factor for not only Margaret Ann’s insanity, but also for Mary Matilda and another sister that was unnamed but recorded as being afflicted by “spiritual views”.18 Seen as a contributor to insanity, heredity was a major concern in medical studies at the time. It was a significant diagnosis at the London Asylum, which listed patient case histories as either “hereditary” or “not hereditary”.19 For the scene, Margaret Ann and the unnamed sister were conflated into one composite character that was heavily religious – an aspect of patient experience that will be explored further in Scene 5. The focus on Mary Matilda and her intellectual struggles is meant to be heightened by it’s staging in front of the Fanshaw Downtown Campus to provide a visual connection to the mental health struggles faced by students today.

13 Ibid, 151. 14 Sheila L. Cavanagh, "Female-Teacher Gender and Sexuality in Twentieth-Century Ontario, Canada." History of Education Quarterly 45, no. 2 (2005): 247-273, 250. 15 Marta Danylewycz and Alison Prentice. "Teachers, Gender, and Bureaucratizing School Systems in Nineteenth Century Montreal and Toronto." History of Education Quarterly 24, no. 1 (1984): 75-100, 82. 16 Howard I. Kushner "Suicide, Gender, and the Fear of Modernity in Nineteenth-Century Medical and Social Thought." Journal of Social History 26, no. 3 (1993): 461-490. 462. 17 In Charge of the Loons, 151. 18 Ibid, 150. 19 Ibid, 151. Page | 12

Stop 5: St. Paul’s Anglican Cathedral This scene is a monologue where Adelaide talks to herself in two ways. First, she repeats Methodist teachings to herself. Second, she talks to people who are not there. These ways of talking to herself represent Adelaide’s insanity. The monologue format also lets Adelaide depict asylum treatments and experiences from the perspective of an asylum patient. Adelaide’s monologue depicts several issues about Asylum life: the reluctance to be a patient, the divide between male doctors and female patients, the divide between English Protestant physicians and immigrant Methodist patients, moral treatment, and female gynecological. To effectively depict all these issues, Adelaide is a composite character, made up of both the real Adelaide’s experiences and the experiences of other female or immigrant patients. Adelaide was a recurring patient at the London Asylum, admitted four times in seven years.20 It was stated that Adelaide’s melancholia was because of “hysterical malaria,” which was sparked by her Methodist family who practiced their faith through “…excited nonsensical notions… and [filling] her mind with the usual amount of trash so that she believes her foolish fancies are spiritual assertions for her guidance”.21 Her family tied her hands and feet for a few months before first admitting her to the Asylum in 1870.22 This backstory is discussed in her monologue. It was common for patients to reject Asylum life. Bucke and Landor both describe the various methods that were used to care for patients, specifically in the cases of patients that had “…yet to accept [their] fate”.23 This is clearly shown through Adelaide’s struggle to not be taken back. Despite her eminent return to the Asylum, Adelaide has not accepted her fate yet in this scene. Her comments about the experiences of religious and immigrant patients is based on the ways in which Bucke describes those kinds of patients. Bucke saw a clear connection between being an immigrant and being a degenerate. In one piece of his writing, Bucke claims that “British-born persons who come to Canada are, on the whole (as regards mental stability), far below the average Briton and the average Canadian.”24 He also labeled Catholic children sent to Canada from England as being from a “degenerate ancestry.”25 This negative description of Catholic immigrants is more blatantly stated in Bucke’s 1898 Annual Report of the medical superintendent: “Springing as they do from a pauper class and (presumably) from a degenerate ancestry, they must be more liable to vice, crime, imbecility and lunacy than would be the progeny of an ordinary farming or laboring community.”26 Adelaide was most likely not from an immigrant, and as a Methodist she was clearly not from a Catholic family, but the attitudes towards communities of different races and religions were similar, especially when asylum staff were performing treatments. The physicians were hesitant to spend time around the patients that spoke other languages or held other beliefs. Adelaide’s monologue critiques this physician-

20 Ibid, 152. 21 Ibid. 22 Ibid. 23 Ibid, 171. 24 Richard Maurice Bucke, Dr. Richard Maurice Bucke in 8 Volumes, Volume 6 1846-1893, retrieved from ARCC, AFC 203-1. 25 Ibid. 26 Richard Maurice Bucke, “Annual report of the medical superintendent of the asylum for the insane, London, Ontario,” Sessional Papers (No. 11) (October, 1898), 71-73, retrieved from ARCC, AFC 203-S2-SS2-F4, 72. Page | 13 patient relationship, which is contextualized by a practice called moral treatment that focused on one on one interactions between the physicians and patients.27 Near the end of the scene, Adelaide says “He claims that cutting me open will be the cure, that digging inside of me and removing some… some THING… will stop this.” This is a blatant reference to Bucke’s interest in gynecological studies. Close to two decades after The Incurables takes place, Bucke wrote an article for the American Journal of Insanity that describes an experiment with 132 women, where he claims to have found diseases in 122 of them.28 He further claims that after operation, there was a considerable improvement in their mental health. Bucke notes a criticism that he and his doctors “imagine disease exists and then look for it and (even when it is not there) find it.”29 Bucke responds to this criticism by saying that the patient’s diagnosis “is always either made for us or confirmed by at least one outside, thoroughly competent man, who is entirely independent of all members of the asylum staff.”30 Bucke truly believed that uterine disease was the primary cause for female insanity, noting in his writings that after removing a woman’s uterus to prevent or treat a uterine disease, there was a marked difference in the woman’s mental health. He even went so far as to argue that this treatment must be preformed, regardless of whether or not the disease was connected to her mental wellness.31

27 In Charge of the Loons, 154. 28 Richard Maurice Bucke, “Surgery Among the Insane in Canada by R. M. Bucke, M. D.,” American Journal of Insanity, vol. 55, no. 1, (July 1898): 1-19, retrieved from ARCC, AFC 203-S2-SS1-F20, 8-9. 29 Ibid, 9. 30 Ibid. 31 Ibid, 3-4. Page | 14

Concluding Notes November 2019 marked 200 years since Walt Whitman’s birth. We envision our project as a contribution to the Whitman bicentennial, which is being recognized by Museum London and the Archives and Regional Collections Centre. Whitman, who saw poetry in everyday language and experience, is a fitting historical figure to evoke in our walking tour about marginalized people in London’s past. As Whitman wrote in his poem Song of Myself, “I give the sign of democracy…Through me many long dumb voices, / Voices of the interminable generations of slaves, / Voices of prostitutes and of deformed persons, / Voices of the diseased and despairing” would be “clarified and transfigured.” Like Whitman, who sought to give voice to the voiceless, our project seeks to uplift the inmates of the London Asylum from what British historian E.P Thompson calls “the enormous condescension of posterity.”

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Bibliography

Bucke, Richard Maurice. Walt Whitman. New York: Gordon, 1883.

______“Annual report of the medical superintendent of the asylum for the insane, London, Ontario.” Sessional Papers (No. 11). (October 1st, 1898): 71-73. Retrieved from ARCC. AFC 203-S2-SS2-F4. ______. “Surgery Among the Insane in Canada by R. M. Bucke, M. D.” American Journal of Insanity. Vol. 55, No. 1, (July 1898): 1-19. Retrieved from ARCC. AFC 203- S2-SS1-F20, 9. ______. Dr. Richard Maurice Bucke in 8 Volumes, Volume 6 1846-1893. Retrieved from ARCC. AFC 203-1.

Cavanagh, Sheila L. "Female-Teacher Gender and Sexuality in Twentieth-Century Ontario, Canada." History of Education Quarterly 45, no. 2 (2005): 247-73.

Danylewycz, Marta, and Alison Prentice. "Teachers, Gender, and Bureaucratizing School Systems in Nineteenth Century Montreal and Toronto." History of Education Quarterly 24, no. 1 (1984): 75-100.

Krasnick, C. L. “‘In Charge of the Loons’: A Portrait of the London, Ontario Asylum for the Insane in the Nineteenth Century.” Ontario History. Vol. 74, No.3, (September 1982): 138-184.

Kushner, Howard I. "Suicide, Gender, and the Fear of Modernity in Nineteenth-Century Medical and Social Thought." Journal of Social History 26, no. 3 (1993): 461-90.

London Free Press

McToy, Edward. A Brief History of the 13th Regiment (PALI) in South Africa during the Transvaal and Zulu Difficulties 1877-8-9. Davenport: A.H. Swiss, 1880.

Nicholson, Thomas. Letter to Walt Whitman. December 6, 1881. Walt Whitman Archive. https://whitmanarchive.org/biography/correspondence/tei/loc.00716.html

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