Memory is subject to be variously disturbed in certain maladies. There is an affection called amnesia, in which it utterly fails, and another termed dysmnesia, when it is defective. Failure of memory is generally more manifest on some subjects than on others. Salmuth relates the case of a man who had forgotten to pronounce words, although he could write them. Another person could only recollect the first syllables. An old man had forgotten all the past events of his life, unless recalled to his recollection by some occurrence; yet every night he regularly recollected some one particular circumstance of his early days. A curious anecdote is recorded of an elderly gentleman who had fallen into the meshes of an artful courtesan, and who frequently took his own wife for this insidious acquaintance, frequently saying to her, “Madam, I feel that I am doing wrong by devoting to you so much of my time, for, when a man has a wife and children, such conduct is unpardonable;” and, after this polite observation, he took up his hat, and would have walked off, had not his wife, wise enough not to manifest displeasure, contrived to undeceive him.
Dietrich mentions a patient who remembered facts, but had totally forgotten words; while another could write, although he had lost the faculty of reading. Old men are frequently met with who confound substantives, and will call their snuff-box a cane, and their watch a hat. In other cases letters are transposed, and a musician has called his flute a tufle. Dr. Abercrombie relates the case of a gentleman who uniformly called his snuff-box a hogshead. In Virginia he had been a trader in tobacco, so that the transition from snuff to tobacco, and from tobacco to a hogshead seemed to be natural. Another person, affected in a similar manner, always called for paper when he wanted coals, and coals when he needed paper. Others are known to invent names and unintelligible words. Some curious anagrams have been made by these irregularities. John Hunter was suddenly attacked with a loss of memory, which is thus related by Sir Everard Home: “He was at the time on a visit at the house of a friend. He did not know in what part of the house he was, not even the name of the street when he was told, nor where his own house was. He had not a conception of anything existing beyond the room in which he was, and yet he was perfectly conscious of the loss of memory. He was sensible of impressions of all kinds from the senses, and therefore looked out of the window, although rather dark, to see if he could be made sensible of the situation of the house. The loss of memory gradually went off, and in less than half an hour his memory was perfectly recovered.” Such momentary accidents I have frequently observed in gouty patients; and for a second or two I have myself experienced the sensation, which was for the moment of a most alarming nature. Hunter was subject to arthritic attacks.
Corvinus Messala lost his memory for two years, and in his old age could not remember his own name. This is an occurrence by no means uncommon; and I knew a person in perfect health who could only recollect his name by writing it. We frequently see individuals who, although they are generally correct orthographers, cannot sometimes spell a simple conjunction. An anecdote is related in the Psychological Magazine of a German statesman, who having called at a gentleman’s house, the servants of which not knowing him, was asked for his name, which he had, however, so totally forgotten, that he was under the necessity of turning round to a friend and saying with great earnestness, “Pray tell me who I am, for I cannot recollect.”
Cases are recorded of the forgetfulness of a language constantly spoken, while one nearly forgotten from want of practice was recovered. A patient in St. Thomas’s Hospital, who had been admitted with a brain-fever, on his recovery spoke an unknown language to his attendants. A Welsh milkman happened to be in the ward, and recognised his native dialect; although the patient had left Wales in early youth, had resided thirty years in England, and had nearly forgotten his native tongue. Boerhaave relates a curious case of a Spanish poet, author of several excellent tragedies, who had so completely lost his memory in consequence of an acute fever, that he not only had forgotten the languages he had formerly cultivated, but even the alphabet, and was obliged to begin again to learn to read. His own former productions were shown to him, but he could not recognise them. Afterwards, however, he began once more to compose verses, which bore so striking a resemblance to his former writings, that he at length became convinced of his having been the author of them.
Dr. Abercrombie relates the case of an aged gentleman, who, in an attack of the head, had almost forgotten the English language, and expressed himself in a mixed dialect of French, Italian, Spanish, German, and Turkish. Having been some time afterwards severely burnt about the head, by setting fire to the curtains of his bed, he was observed to make use of some English words; this being followed by a course of blistering, he continued to speak more English, but only occasionally and in very short sentences. These were sometimes correctly applied, but at other times most erroneously; for instance, having been taken to see a small house, he observed, “it is very neat, but it is a very little child.”
Dr. Beattie mentions the case of a clergyman who, on his recovery from an apoplectic attack, had exactly forgotten a period of four years; and Dr. Abercrombie records a lady who had thus forgotten ten or twelve years of her life. Wepfer mentions a gentleman, who on recovery from an apoplectic attack, was found to know nobody and remember nothing. After several weeks he began to know his friends, to remember words, to repeat the Lord’s Prayer, and to read a few words of Latin, rather than German, his native language. When urged to read more than a few words at a time, he said that he formerly understood those things, but now did not. After some time he began to pay more attention to what was passing around him, but while thus making slight and gradual progress, he was, after a few months, suddenly cut off by another attack of apoplexy. Dr. Beattie relates the case of a gentleman who, after a blow on the head, lost his knowledge of Greek, and did not appear to have lost any thing else.
Loss of memory has been observed as a frequent occurrence after the prevalence of pestilential diseases. Thucydides relates, that after the plague of Athens several of the inhabitants forgot their own names and those of their parents and friends. After the disastrous retreat of the French army in Russia, and the disease which swept away so many of their troops at Wilna, many of the survivors had no recollection of country or of home. Injuries of the head appear to occasion different results. This circumstance was observed by the ancients. Valerius Maximus relates the case of an Athenian, who, being struck on the head with a stone, forgot all literary attainments, although he preserved the recollection of other matters. A man wounded with a sword in the eye completely forgot Greek and Latin, in which he had formerly been a proficient. A young man, having fallen off his horse and contused his head, lost his memory to such an extent, that he would repeat a question a hundred times over, although the very first interrogation had been answered. He had not the slightest recollection of his accident. Epileptic and paralytic attacks frequently usher in this melancholy result, which has also been often observed after child-birth.
Dr. Abercrombie knew a lady who was seized with an apoplectic fit while engaged at cards; the attack took place on a Thursday evening—she lay in a state of stupor on Friday and Saturday, and recovered her consciousness rather suddenly on Sunday. The first words she then uttered were, “What is trump?”
Dr. Conolly mentions a young clergyman who, when on the point of being married, suffered an injury of the head, by which his understanding became impaired. He lived in this condition to the advanced age of eighty, and to the last day of his existence, spoke of nothing but his approaching wedding, expressing impatience for the arrival of the happy day.
A singular instance of forgetfulness is related of a lady who had been united to a man she loved, after much opposition on the part of her family, and who lost her memory after the birth of a child. She could not be made to recollect any circumstance that had occurred since her marriage; nor could she recognise her husband or her infant, both of whom she maintained were utter strangers to her. At first she repulsed them with apparent horror, but was at last, by the entreaties of her family, induced to believe that she was a wife and a mother; and although she yielded to their solicitations, yet for years she could not persuade herself that their assertions were correct, as she actually was convinced “against her will.” In this instance disease not only destroyed memory, but affection.