A SAD STORY.

Lyttelton Times, Volume VI, Issue 404, 17 September 1856, Page 5

A SAD STORY.

In the course of a lecture {delivered at Hobart Town, by Dr. Hall, on "jthe. structure and functions of human voice," he related the folio wing painful narrative, Avhich occurred in his practice some years ago: — A small settler, Avho by his sobriety and industry had become possessed of a little independence and had Avon the confidence and respect of all avlio kneAV him, paid a visit to Hobart Town at Christmas —that season Avhose hallowed nature I is so commonly perverted by riot, drunkenness, f^and blasphemy. He brought with him a load of Avheat, intending Avith its value to purchase and return with the necessary supplies for the approaching harvest. But that demon of mischief crime, and misery—rum—beset him, through the persuasions of pretending friends. The price of his Avheat was soon swallowed and Avasted by him and his Avicked tempters. His cart aud bullocks went the same Avay, snd shortly afterwards he returned to his once loved little farm, aAvretched maniac, the victim of delirium tremens, Avandering hurriedly through the bush night and day, haunted by a demon, who Avas conthxnually urging him to self-destruction. The very bleating of his sheep and lambs, Avhich was once music to his ears, uoav sounded to his perverted imagination, '*cut your throat;" the loAving of his herds appeared to re-echo the appaliilg sound; —nay, even the Avhistling of the wind as it rustled through the trees was syllabled into the same fearful Avords ;, escape from the torturing fiend he could not; and one day, lashed into a fit of despair, he calmly sharpened a knife, and deliberately cut his throat, standing on -the floor of his OAvn cottage, and in the presence of his horror-stricken mother. So resolutely had he performed the act, that'he completely severed both jugular veins, and the Avindpipe, and fell doAvn in a pool of his own blood. When I first saAV him his appearance Avas aAvful—his eyes flashed and rolled about wildly —and his lips Avere moving incessantly, vainlyendeavouring to articulate; speech or voice there was none; for that air which heretofore had been moulded by the muscles of the mouth into Avords, and which the vibrations of the vocal chords in the larynx had fashioned into harmonious sounds, no longer played through the parts; the bellows of the organ worked hi vain, for-the'impelled air escaped by another aperture, and the musical ;. pipes wave bereft of its assistance. No sound 'could be heard.but the hissing and bubbling noise the expired air made, as it escaped from the divided Avindpipe. His efforts to toss his arms about Avere incessant, but almost fruitless—hecould no longer keep his chest dilated —the'muscles Avere robbed of nearly all their power. I had great difficulty in uniting the parts, hut after having almost as it were dipped into the chest, I succeeled in stitching the ends of the Avindpipe together, and sewing up the other parts. When I had completed my Avork by securing all Avith bandages, the bystanders almost shuddered Avith surprise and terror, suddenly and unexpectedly to hear tlie raving words of execration, blasphemy, and despair, unintermittingly' rushing forth from tho?e lips which but a few moments before had Avrithed. and struggled in vain efforts to speak—aud dreaded to behold now .tho fury and vigour Avith which be exerted himself to do further mischief. I Avas obliged to tic him to his bed to restrain him. Ultimately I succeeded in restoring him to reason, and at the same time bad the pleasure of having my endeavours to reunite his mangled t'iroat rewarded Avith mora success than I expected. HoAvever, so great had been his struggles, during the period of insanity, that one of

the stitches of the windpipe had ulcerated through the cartilaginous hoop or ringlet to which it Avas secured, and the consequence was that a hole about the size of a pea, ever afterwards remained in his Avindpipe. This was of no further detriment, than that it required me to make, as it were, an artificial spring lid to press close upon the opening, and compelled him always to wear his neck-cloth painfully tight, otherwise he could neither speak, nor make any active exertion.

He had several attacks of madness after this ■ —and always brought on by drinking, and he Avas always tempted to repeat his efforts at suicide. But, as I never lost sight of him, I always took effectual means to guard him. Misfortunes uoav speedily followed one another; his house and Avell-filled bam were consumed, accidentally, by' fire; and at last he lost the farm on Avhich he had for so many years laboured with success, and Avent to reside in another district, a ruined man, both in heart, and mind, and pocket. A criminal connection completed his destruction. He Avas constantly urged and tempted to dally Avith his worst enemy—rum. Insanity Avas again produced; no friendly being was thereto give me timely notice of the attack, and he at. last succeeded effectually in terminating his existence. He droAvned himself, and it AA ras about a Aveek afterwards before his body was found, and then so putrid and disfigured, that had it not been for the artificial opening in the Avindpipe, I could not have identified the body. The last home of his mortal remains is in the burying ground of Bothwell Church—a speaking monument and an instructive monitor to those Avho would seek to know the end of the drunkard, and sorry am I to say that a vast proportion of his ■ neighbours there in their "narrow houses" have been untimely hurried there by the merciless foe to health, happiness, and life. In this genial clime .drunkenness is, as yet, either directly or indirectly, almost the only enemy to long and A-igorous existence the Tasmanians have to contend A\ith. But for this insatiable destroyer, my profession would be almost a sinecure.