CASE XXXV.
T. C. This person had remained many years in the hospital on the incurable establishment. He had been a schoolmaster at Warrington in Lancashire, and was a man of acuteness and extensive mathematical learning. As he became very furious on the attack of his maniacal disorder, he was placed in the Lunatic Asylum at Manchester, where he killed the person who had the care of him, by stabbing him in the back with a knife.
The following is the account he gave me of that transaction, and which I immediately committed to paper; as it conveys a serious and important lesson to those who are about the persons of the insane.
“He that would govern others, first should be
The master of himself, richly indu’d
With depth of understanding, height of courage.”
Massinger’s Bondman, Act I. Scene 3.
It ought to be more generally understood that a madman seldom forgets the coercion he has undergone, and that he never forgives an indignity.
“The man whom I stabbed richly deserved it. He behaved to me with great violence and cruelty, he degraded my nature as a human being; he tied me down, handcuffed me, and confined my hands much higher than my head, with a leathern thong: he stretched me on a bed of torture. After some days he released me. I gave him warning, for I told his wife I would have justice of him. On her communicating this to him, he came to me in a furious passion, threw me down, dragg’d me through the court-yard, thumped on my breast, and confined me in a dark and damp cell. Not liking this situation, I was induced to play the hypocrite. I pretended extreme sorrow for having threatened him, and by an affectation of repentance, prevailed on him to release me. For several days I paid him great attention, and lent him every assistance. He seemed much pleased with the flattery, and became very friendly in his behaviour towards me.—Going one day into the kitchen, where his wife was busied, I saw a knife; (this was too great a temptation to be resisted;) I concealed it, and carried it about me. For some time afterwards the same friendly intercourse was maintained between us; but, as he was one day unlocking his garden door, I seized the opportunity, and plunged the knife up to the hilt in his back.”—He always mentioned this circumstance with peculiar triumph, and his countenance (the most cunning and malignant I ever beheld) became highly animated at the conclusion of the story.
During the time he was in Bethlem Hospital he most ingeniously formed a stiletto out of a mop-nail; it was an elaborate contrivance, and had probably been the work of several months. It was rendered extremely sharp and polished, by whetting on a small pebble; it was fixed into a handle, and had a wooden sheath made from the mop-stick. This instrument he carried in his left breeches pocket, his right hand grasping the hilt. As I always found him in that posture when I visited him, I suspected he had some concealed implement of mischief, and therefore employed a convalescent patient to watch him through the key-hole of his door. This person saw him with the weapon, and also ascertaining the distance at which he could use it.
The instrument was taken from him by surprise. When he found he was prevented from executing his purpose, he roared out the most horrid imprecations; he cursed the Almighty for creating him, and more especially for having given him the form of a human being, and he wished to go to Hell that he might not be disgraced by an association with the Deity.
He had an uniform and implacable aversion to the officers and servants of the hospital; he said he courted their hatred for their curse was a blessing. He seldom answered a question but some impiety was contained in the reply. An indifferent person remarking that it was a bad day, he immediately retorted, “Sir, did you ever know God make a good one?” Although the whole of the day, and the greatest part of the night, were consumed in pouring forth abuse and coining new blasphemies; yet there were some few patients for whom he professed a friendship, and with whom he conversed in a mild and civil way: this confidence had been obtained by the compliments they had addressed to him on the score of his understanding, of which he entertained a very high opinion. At one time he conceived himself to be the Messiah, at another, that he was Mr. Adam, the architect; and that he was shortly to go to America in order to build the new Jerusalem in Philadelphia.
About six months before his death he complained of pain in his stomach, and said he felt as if he had no intestines. His appetite diminished, and he became melancholic.