The observation which suggests itself on No. 10 and 11, is, that from
such facts as these, it is very evident, there can scarcely be an old
pauper patient in such a state as wholly incapacitates him from being
brought, with a little trouble, into habits of useful employment.
As stupid men are generally less diverted from an object which once
engages their attention, than men of greater capacity; so it is with
these poor automata; if the first difficulty be but once overcome, that
of acquiring the habit of working, there is no fear; but they will
proceed in it more steadily than those who feel that they have a right to
consult their own choice. They cannot be tempted, nor do they possess
the power of giving their energies a new direction; and hence, as habit
gathers strength, we may depend on them as on our time-pieces. If
amusements and employment are good for these, how much better for those
who are not past the hope of recovery; it may change the object of their
thoughts, and gradually turn them to one of a less dangerous nature. I
shall have some very interesting cures, partly attributable to this
principle, to state in due course; in the mean time we perceive, that if
even they are past the hope of recovery, they are kept in a better and
more healthful state; and what is more, it diffuses a satisfactory
feeling through the whole system, and they are made happier than they
would be by a life of idleness.
_No._ 12.—_Admitted_ 1797.
Nothing on record; and I have failed in my efforts to obtain any
information of her previous history. It is said, that her relations are
respectable; yet her residence here is paid for by a parish in London.
She has long been, together with No. 7, the most useful and hardworking
person in the house. In the midst of her work, she will often scold and
swear with vehemence, but no one knows about what, or against whom; and
though her voice is loud and shrill, no one regards it, saying, “Oh! it
is only poor M. W.” Yet she is very kind-hearted and friendly, giving
away her own meat, especially to those who are ill; and when prevented
from doing so, will throw it away with indignation. She would gladly
starve herself to feed others; and always asserts, when a patient dies,
“that they died for want of something to eat.” She used to practice this
singular fancy, that of frightening the devil away, by taking a sweeping
brush with her to bed; but now, a tin pint serves the same purpose. She
is a tall, meagre-looking woman.
_No._ 13.—_Admitted_ 1798.
No statement of this case; but it is said that, in the first instance, he
was very violent. His mind is now in a fixed imbecile state, and
exhibits no alteration, except the slight changes which mere alterations
of our spirits produce; when he is more easily provoked—talks, laughs,
and sings more, or holds conversations with persons dead or absent;
sometimes scolds them, fancying they tease him in some strange manner,
which he calls “triangling;” but it is impossible to ascertain what ideas
he affixes to the word; he is a very quiet, good-natured man, a general
favourite, and is usefully employed by the attendants in the house. {159}
_No._ 14.—_Admitted_ 1799.
No statement of her case; and I have failed in obtaining any very
satisfactory information about her.
[Picture: No. 14 page 159]
It is said, that she gradually became insane, after the death of her only
boy, named “Charles,” (who was the natural son of Sir —:) this is
probably true, as she now imagines that Charles is constantly with
her—sleeps with her—that she feeds him at her meals—carries him about in
a corner of her apron—nurses him—and talks to him with delight and
maternal fondness. She often fancies, too, that she has been confined,
and has got more children. {160}
Her appearance and manners are exceedingly polite, pleasing, and
affectionate; she is attentive to others, in all those little nameless
etiquettes of life, which, when regulated by truth, constitute the
innocent fascination of a kind-hearted and well-bred character; and it is
so with her: every one doats upon her as upon a favourite child. She
never fails to tell me, if I have been out during dinner-time, when she
next meets me, “you have not got your dinner, go and get it immediately;”
and yet left to herself, she is wholly taken up with scolding some
imaginary beings who annoy her, get into her throat, head, back, &c., run
her through with swords, and do a thousand other strange and cruel things
to her. Every evening she has a long scolding, with a tone three-fourths
of anger and one-fourth affection, with some men who plague her in her
bed and in her bed-room, and continue to do so till her attendant comes,
sometimes at her call, to drive them away. Is this the lingering last
impression made on her mind by her seducer? In the midst of her scolding
she will often swear in a strange under tone of voice; and when accused,
she says it is some other person, frequently Jack Swales. Her
conversation is so exceedingly extravagant and varied, that it is
impossible, except by the most lengthened description, to convey to
others any adequate conception of it. Names of dukes, kings, queens,
pipes of wine, sums of money, estates, &c., are as common to her as
household words; yet strange as all this is, it seems to have some
connexion with her past life, having formerly held a situation in a
family of consequence. Her former situation and disposition are hinted
at by these reminiscences, which are delightful traits of what she has
been.
_No._ 15.—_Admitted_ 1799.—_Aged_ 50.
No statement on record; it is certain, however, from his own account,
that he was formerly steward and butler in a gentleman’s family, and had
been what some call a “hearty good fellow” all his life. His manner
continued that of a blustering, passionate, half-inebriated man; {162}
his skin was covered with a scorbutic eruption, and his face a bloated
livid red. He died of dropsy in the chest, March 6th, 1821.