Some wills have been refused probate upon the ground of a disgusting fondness for animals, evinced by the testators during their lives or in the testamentary act. In one case, the testatrix, being a female, unmarried, kept fourteen dogs of both sexes, which were provided with kennels in her drawing-room.[93]
In another case, a female, who lived by herself, kept a multitude of cats, which were provided with regular meals, and furnished with plates and napkins. This strange fondness for animals, in solitary females, is not altogether unusual, and is not to be regarded as any certain indication of insanity.[94]
We will now refer to three cases with some particularity, originating in the Surrogate’s Court in New York, each of which is very curious and instructive, and in which we can perceive the application of the rule regarding monomania.
The first is the case of Thompson v. Quimby.[95] There were several reasons assigned by the contestants for their attack upon Mr. Thompson’s will. Among them was the allegation “that the decedent was laboring under delusions amounting to insanity, and had not a disposing mind during the preparation, or at the time of the execution of the will.” The instrument was drawn and executed during his last illness, and but a short time before his death. It was a voluminous document, and in it some provision was made for many of his descendants and kinsfolk, but the bulk of his large estate (about $400,000) was left for charitable or religious purposes.
The testimony established that the testator was a believer in many superstitions of a vulgar character, and had held them with great pertinacity for many years. Among other delusions, it was claimed he believed in the black art; that he read and experimented upon the teachings of magic; was familiar with disembodied spirits; that he could work spells by formula or incantation; that he could cure diseases by amulets, or by papers bearing certain cabalistic inscriptions, which were to be worn about the person of the sufferer. He professed to know where Captain Kidd’s treasures were secreted at Montauk Point, and actually, in company with another, undertook, by the aid of a divining rod, to locate the exact spot where the riches were buried. The experiment was a failure, because, as he declared, the charm under which he worked was broken by the inopportune remarks of his attendant. On one of these occasions he beheld the apparition of the devil (it seems, he had a belief in that personage) in the shape of a large bull, and spoke of this taurine manifestation of the father of evil with great seriousness. It was also alleged that he claimed to see ghosts; that he believed in the supernatural character and significance of dreams, in the philosopher’s stone, in clairvoyance, spiritualism, mesmerism, magic glasses, and that he owned a whistle with which he could get everything he wanted. This, and much more to the same effect, was adduced as testimony to prove the insanity of the testator.
On the other side, it was shown that the testator was a shrewd and intelligent man of business, clear and firm in his judgments. He was largely engaged in affairs; was connected with moneyed institutions; had succeeded in accumulating wealth by his own efforts; was associated in large and responsible enterprises of commerce, and was a regular attendant at Dr. Spring’s Presbyterian church.
While the Surrogate did accredit all that was deposed to, to sustain his insanity, he did arrive at this conclusion: “After making every possible reasonable allowance, I have no doubt that Mr. Thompson’s mind was impressed with a sincere belief in many absurd notions. There seems sufficient evidence to show that he believed in mesmerism, clairvoyance, divining and mineral rods, dreams, and spiritual influences. He searched for the supposed deposits of Kidd, and ascribed his failure in two instances to the utterance of certain words by the operator. That he said he saw the devil in the shape of a bull seems to be well established. He believed likewise in the efficacy of cures for rheumatism, and fever and ague.” Now, there was nothing whatever to connect any of these aberrations or infatuations of the testator with the provisions of his will, or with any one of them; they did not affect his testamentary disposition of his property; and there could not, therefore, have been a successful impeachment of his will on the ground of monomania, or partial insanity. The Surrogate decreed in favor of the will, and the Supreme Court sustained his decree.
The next case we allude to, to further furnish an illustration of the rule, is the recent case of the Bonard Will. This case is of the very greatest importance, because it was argued with unusual skill and ability, and the testimony of the medical experts was sifted with a thoroughness and minuteness which elicited much instruction upon the more obscure phenomena of mental disease, and the facts revealed being such as to present very distinctly the question of the testamentary capacity of one who entertained singular tenets of a so-called faith. It will be advisable to state the facts somewhat fully. Louis Bonard, a native of France, died at the city of New York, in the Roman Catholic hospital of St. Vincent, on the 20th day of February, 1871. His life had evidently been an eventful one; for, while the testimony leaves in doubt much, and fails altogether to account for more of his antecedent history, it was known that he had been a traveler and a trader in South and Central America, and that he had been a dealer in sham jewelry; that he came to this country some time prior to the year 1855, and had brought with him money; that he had had losses, but at length became successful, and made investments in real estate, which enabled him to accumulate a fortune amounting, at the time of his death, to about one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. During the period of his residence in New York, he lived as a miser. He preferred the society and companionship of artisans and mechanics. He had no relatives in America nor in Europe, so far as was ascertained at the time of the trial, although it has since transpired that he has kindred in France. He was a man of erratic habits and singular beliefs, the latter of which seemed to intensify as his age advanced. He was a misanthrope; but was possessed of an unbounded affection for the brute creation. The evidence shows that he was a believer in metempsychosis; that he expressed the opinion that there might be an emperor in any animal he beheld; that he remonstrated with a person who suggested it would be humane to kill an injured kitten, because, he averred, there was a human soul in the animal’s body. But he was a man dextrous and cunning in mechanical arts. He constructed machines for various purposes; he had mental resources likewise, and was a reader of books. The testimony, fairly viewed, showed that he railed at religion and priests; yet he died in the peace of the Roman Catholic Church, and in full communion.[96]
There appeared also the fact that Mr. Bonard combined with his ardent love of animals an unbounded admiration for the benevolence of Mr. Henry Bergh. Memoranda were found among his papers which plainly showed he had some ulterior purpose concerning that gentleman. On the 11th of February, 1871, and while he was very ill, he made a will, bequeathing a portion of his property to two of his friends. On the 13th he made another, revoking the former, and left all his estate, real and personal, to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, of which Mr. Bergh was then, as now, the honored president. Here was a case, bold in its outlines, and presenting the salient features of a dogma of a heathen creed, constituting the avowed belief of a man who was born and who died in the Catholic faith. The opinion of the learned Surrogate is very able and interesting. He declares that the belief which Mr. Bonard held did not constitute insanity; that “if a court is to ascribe insanity to a man, or a class of men, constituting a sect according to his or their opinion or belief as to a future state, the logical deduction would necessarily be, that a major portion of all mankind, comprised in all other and different sects, were of unsound mind, or monomaniacs on that subject.” The learned Surrogate then proceeds to consider the facts of this case, not as presenting one of general insanity, but as one in which the only appearance of unsoundness of mind consisted in the alleged monomania concerning the transmigration of souls. But he adverts to the fact that there was no connection necessarily of this belief with the terms of the will—that there was nothing in the will to show that he held the opinions alleged any more than he was impressed with a belief in utter annihilation after death; nor was there any testimony to associate any provision of the will with a belief respecting the future condition of the human soul. These considerations, coupled with the further fact that “the testator had neither wife nor child, father nor mother, nor any known, near, or remote relatives living, or others on whom he was or felt himself under obligation to bestow his property,” induced the court to sustain the will and overrule the allegation of mental incapacity.
But let us suppose that, actuated by this belief, so uncommon in the present day, Mr. Bonard, having before his mind the fate of an itinerant cur running around the city, yelled and hooted at by idle lads, or stunned by a policeman’s baton, had feared that his soul after death might pass into the body of such a hapless vagrant, and, under the impression of this possible fate, had provided a safe asylum where such unfortunates might find shelter from the pelting storm; and still further, that there were relatives who would appear and contest the will. Then we introduce quite a different and a new element into the consideration of the case.