# Scenes in my Native Land/Rose-Mount

ROSE-MOUNT.
A NEIGHBORLY EPISTLE.
Hartford, April, 1843.
To the Lady of Rose-Mount, I've long wished to pay
Such thanks as were due for her musical lay,
But many a care, with importunate mien,
Would thrust itself me and my lyre between;
And lastly, the hydra of house-cleaning came,
With dripping fingers, and cheeks of flame;
Pictures, and vases, and flower-pots fled,
At her flashing eye, and her frown of dread,
While tubs and brushes, with Vandal haste,
Like a mob of Chartists, their betters displaced,
And she at the head of that motley crowd,
A brandished broom for her sceptre proud, Held all in an uproar, from sun to sun,
Then went off in a rage, ere her work was done.
Keep clear of her, dearest, as long as you can,
She's a terror, in sooth, both to woman and man,
And husbands, especially, quake when they see
Their sanctums exposed to her ministry.
Books and papers, they learn to their cost,
If "put in order," are fain to be lost,
And though wax-like neatness may reign around,
Yet the things that are wanted can never be found,
And a test of their temper Socratic 't will prove,
If they press through this ordeal in patience and love.
From the grasp of this terrible vixen set free,
How sweet was the scenery of Rose-Mount to me,
When yesterday, soon as my dinner was o'er,
My sunshade I spread, and set off for your door;
And though disappointed that you were away,
Found many bright objects, my walk to repay;
For there, in her own little carriage was seen
Your baby in state, like a young fairy queen, The lawn with its plants, and spring-blossoms so gay,
And she, in her beauty, more lovely than they.
Then she told, in a voice that like music did melt,
The names of the pair who in paradise dwelt, And so many fine phrases had learned to repeat,
And each guest with such gentle politeness to greet,
That all were surprised, when her date they surveyed,
That in scarce eighteen months she such progress had made.
As for me, while I gazed on a picture so rare, The landscape, the child, and the residence fair,
How many, thought I, if their pathway below
Thus sprinkled with gems and with flowerets should glow,
Would be tempted on earth all their treasures to rest,
And ne'er have a sigh fox a region more blest.
But you, with a heart ever upward and true,
Will keep, I am trusting, their Giver in view,
And be made by His gifts still more fitting and pure, For that realm where all beauties and blessings endure.
Hartford, though less celebrated for beauty of landscape than its sister city, New Haven, possesses some fine objects, both of nature and art, which have perhaps not been fully appreciated. A deep, rich verdure is its birthright, and the loveliness of its surrounding heights is admitted by all.
Many of the residences on Asylum Hill are conspicuous for their elegance and grace. Among these, Rose-Mount, the seat of James Dixon, Esq., is particularly distinguished by the extent and arrangement of its grounds. Fourteen acres, highly cultivated, are divided into lawns, gardens, and groves, and embellished with parterres of flowers, hedges, and a variety of shrubs, fruits, and forest-trees. All is found here to constitute a delightful retirement for the man of letters and of taste, where cultivated intellect may enjoy the luxuries of literature, or woo the willing muse.
The beautiful elevation of Washington Street also exhibits a cluster of edifices, of finely varied architectures, from the ornamented cottage to the stately mansion. In their vicinity, the Retreat for the Insane, a noble and spacious building, rears its head, and extends its range of offices and pleasure-grounds. Its class of ​scenery seems well adapted, if external objects may ever produce that effect, to "medicate a mind diseased, or pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow."
It accommodates at present about ninety patients, and two wings are in the progress of erection, to allow the reception of eighty additional ones. Its inmates have the constant care of a medical Superintendent, the religious instruction of a Chaplain, and the services of a Steward and Matron. We borrow the language of the former, to describe some of the efforts made to dispel the melancholy, so often the attendant of disordered intellect.
"We present them entertainment, in which the best and wisest may at times indulge, or to which all might profitably resort, under the tedium of convalescence from this, or any other disease. They are not limited to the patients; all our family, the resident officers of the Institution, and the attendants, participate in them. Our children mingle in the dance, and take their parts in the concert. The sewing-circle, the reading and musical parties, are held two afternoons of each week, under the direction of the Matron, who, excellent everywhere, exerts here, from her cheerfulness of manners and kindness of heart, the happiest influence. These parties have met in the parlors connected with the female wing, except during the pleasant afternoons of summer, when by common consent they were held upon the lawn. Here our female patients form groups beneath the shade, some sewing or knit​ting, others listening to an interesting story, or socially conversing; the nurse and the patient, the sane and the insane, so mingling together, that they are hardly to be distinguished, and oftentimes, to the amusement of all, mistaken for each other by the stranger. Such a scene looks very unlike the condition of the insane in those days, when, in the language of a quaint old Scotch writer, 'we committed the better sort of the mad people to the care and taming of chirurgeons, and the inferior to the scourge.' An hour previous to evening prayers, on every pleasant afternoon, in the summer and autumn, our female patients, oftentimes, with scarcely an exception, have joined us in a ramble about our garden and grounds, for the tasteful planning and ornamenting of which, we are so much indebted to the benevolent foresight of some of the founders of the Institution."
The intercourse of the Chaplain is also calculated to exercise a benign and healing influence. "He appears among the inmates of the Retreat, as their sympathizing friend. He exchanges with them the customary civilities of social life. He listens to their conversation, and lets them see that he is interested in it. He often introduces other than grave and serious subjects, adapted to afford rational instruction, or innocent entertainment; nor can he discover that by doing this he is exposed to any disparagement of the proper dignity of his office, by the want of courtesy and respect on the part of those whom he seeks to ​benefit. It is indeed by pursuing such a course, that he hopes to avail himself of suitable opportunities when they offer, and they not unfrequently do offer, of presenting in the most favorable manner the simple and consoling truths of the Gospel."
A select library, and collection of prints, are sources of gratification to the patients, and the commodious carriage of the establishment, is in constant requisition during fine weather, to give them pleasant excursions around the city and its environs. A very large and productive garden, whose vegetable wealth conduces greatly to the comfort of the large household, furnishes also an agreeable and healthful mode of exercise for those disposed to share in such occupation.
This Institution, from its commencement twenty years since, has been blessed by the recovery of a great proportion of the sufferers entrusted to its care. During the past year, more than fifty have been restored to their homes, with that joy which those only can imagine, who have tasted the bitterness of such separation.
Though a description of the Retreat has surely no connection with the title of this article, yet in noticing some of the objects that beautify our city, we trust to be forgiven for introducing the beauty of that benevolence which is the glory of any people, and which in this instance devotes itself to the mitigation of one of the severest ills that can afflict humanity.