These are the most ordinary symptoms, and such as generally

ON THE INCUBUS, OR NIGHT-MARE.

J. M‘Creery, Printer,

Black Horse Court, London.

A TREATISE ON THE INCUBUS,

OR

Night-Mare,

DISTURBED SLEEP, TERRIFIC DREAMS,

AND NOCTURNAL VISIONS.

WITH THE MEANS OF REMOVING THESE

DISTRESSING COMPLAINTS.

BY JOHN WALLER,

SURGEON OF THE ROYAL NAVY.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR E. COX AND SON, ST. THOMAS’S STREET,

BOROUGH.

1816.

INTRODUCTION.

The enjoyment of comfortable and undisturbed sleep, is certainly to be

ranked amongst the greatest blessings which heaven has bestowed on

mankind; and it may be considered as one of the best criterions of a

person enjoying perfect health. On the contrary, any disturbance which

occurs in the enjoyment of this invaluable blessing, may be considered a

decisive proof of some derangement existing in the animal economy, and a

consequent deviation from the standard of health. Indeed it is astonishing

how slight a deviation from that standard may be perceived, by paying

attention to the circumstance of our sleep and dreams. This may be more

clearly demonstrated by attending carefully to the state of persons on the

approach of any epidemic fever or other epidemic disease, and indeed of

every kind of fever, as I have repeatedly witnessed; when no other signs

of a deviation from health could be perceived, the patient has complained

of disturbed rest and frightful dreams, with Night-Mare, &c. Hence the

dread which the vulgar, in all ages and countries, have had of what they

call _bad_ dreams; experience having proved to them, that persons,

previously to being attacked with some serious or fatal malady, had been

visited with these kind of dreams. For this reason they always dread some

impending calamity either to themselves or others, whenever they occur;

and, so far as relates to themselves, often not without reason. Frightful

dreams, however, though frequently the forerunners of dangerous and fatal

diseases, will yet often occur when the disturbance of the system is

comparatively trifling, as they will generally be found to accompany every

derangement of the digestive organs, particularly of the stomach, of the

superior portion of the intestinal canal, and of the biliary system.

Children, whose digestive organs are peculiarly liable to derangement, are

also very frequently the subjects of frightful dreams, and partial

Night-Mares; which are frequently distressing enough to them. They are

still more so to grown up people, as they generally arise from a more

serious derangement of the system. Those who are subject to them will

agree with me in opinion, that they are by no means to be ranked amongst

the lesser calamities to which our nature is liable.

There are many persons in the world to whom it is no uncommon occurrence,

to rise from their bed in the morning more wearied and exhausted, both in

mind and body, than when they retired to it the evening before: to whom

sleep is frequently an object of terror rather than comfort, and who seek

in vain for relief from the means usually recommended by Physicians. To

such persons I dedicate this little work; for their information I have

laid down, in as clear terms as the subject will admit, the history of

those diseases, which, by depriving us of the benefit of sleep, and

driving rest from our couch, often render life itself miserable, and lay

the foundation of formidable, and sometimes of fatal diseases. Amongst

those affections which thus break in upon our repose, the most formidable

and the most frequent is the disease called Night-Mare; the history of

which, with its various modifications, I have endeavoured to give with as

much accuracy as possible, and have attempted also to investigate its

nature and immediate causes, as well as to point out the best mode of

obtaining relief. Very little assistance could be obtained in this

undertaking, from the writings of modern Physicians, who have paid little

or no attention to it: those of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,

seem to have well understood both its causes and cure, but differed much

amongst themselves respecting its nature, as will ever be the case when

we attempt to reason on any subject which is above our comprehension. I

have availed myself of all the light which these illustrious men could

throw upon the subject, which is not a little; but my principal

information respecting it has arisen from a personal acquaintance with the

disease itself, for a long series of years, having been a victim to it

from my earliest infancy. I have never met with any person who has

suffered to so great an extent from this affection, or to whom it was

become so habitual. To eradicate thoroughly a disease so deeply rooted and

of so long duration, cannot be expected: but I have so far succeeded as to

bring it under great control, and to keep myself free from its attacks for

several months together; or indeed scarcely ever to be disturbed by it

at all, but when I have deviated from those rules which experience has

proved to be sufficient to secure me from all danger of it.

The various kinds of disturbed sleep taken notice of in this little work,

are all so many modifications of Night-Mare, and may be all remedied by

observing the rules here laid down, as they will be found to originate

from one or other of the causes here specified. The regimen and treatment

I have recommended are directed to the root of the disease, that is, to

the hypochondriac or hysteric temperament; for Night-Mare, disturbed

sleep, terrific dreams, &c. may be considered only as symptoms of great

nervous derangement, or hypochondriasis, and are a sure sign that this

disease exists to a great extent. Thus, while the patient is seeking, by

the means recommended, to get rid of his Night-Mare, he will find his

general health improving, and the digestive organs recovering their proper

tone.

THE INCUBUS, &c.

This disease, vulgarly called Night-Mare, was observed and described by

physicians and other writers at a very early period. It was called by the

Greeks, εφιαλτης, and by the Romans, _Incubus_, both of which names are

expressive of the sensation of weight and oppression felt by the persons

labouring under it, and which conveys to them the idea of some living

_being_ having taken its position on the breast, inspiring terror, and

impeding respiration and all voluntary motion. It is not very surprising

that persons labouring under this extraordinary affection, should ascribe

it to the agency of some dæmon, or evil spirit; and we accordingly find

that this idea of its immediate cause has generally prevailed in all ages

and countries. Its real nature has never been satisfactorily explained,

nor has it by any means met with that attention from modern physicians

which it merits: indeed it scarcely seems to be considered by them as a

disease, or to deserve at all the attention of a physician. Those,

however, who labour under this affection to any great degree, can bear

testimony to the distress and alarm which it occasions; in many cases

rendering the approach of night a cause of terror, and life itself

miserable, from the dread of untimely suffocation. The little attention

paid to this disease by medical men, has left the subjects of it without a

remedy, and almost without hope. Its nature and its cause have been

altogether misunderstood by those who have lately given any opinion upon

it. It appears a general opinion that it only happens to persons lying

upon the back, and who have eaten large suppers; the causes of it have

consequently been traced to mechanical pressure upon the lungs, arising

from a full stomach; and a change of position, together with the avoiding

eating any supper, has been thought all that was necessary to prevent its

attack. To those, however, who are unfortunately afflicted with it to any

degree, it is well known by experience, that no change of position, or

abstinence, will secure them from the attacks of this formidable disturber

of the night. As I have so long been an unfortunate victim to this enemy

of repose, and have suffered more from its repeated attacks than any other

person I have ever met with, I hope to be able to throw some light on the

nature of this affection, and to point out some mode of relief to the

unfortunate victims of it.

The late Dr. Darwin, who had an admirable talent for explaining the

phenomena of animal life in general, is of opinion, that this affection is

nothing more than sleeping too sound; in which situation of things the

power of volition, or command over the muscles of voluntary motion, is too

completely suspended; and that the efforts of the patient to recover this

power, constitute the disease we call Night-Mare. In order to reconcile

this hypothesis with the real state of things, he is obliged to have

recourse to a method not unusual amongst theoretic philosophers, both in

medicine and other sciences--that is, when the hypothesis does not exactly

apply to the phenomenon to be explained by it, to twist the phenomenon

itself into such a shape as will make it fit, rather than give up a

favourite hypothesis. Now, in order to mould the Night-Mare into the

proper form, to make this hypothesis apply to it, he asserts, first, that

it only attacks persons when very sound asleep; and secondly, that there

cannot exist any difficulty of breathing, since the mere suspension of

volition will not produce any, the respiration going on as well asleep as

awake; so that he thinks there must needs be some error in this part of

the account. Any person, however, that has experienced a paroxysm of

Night-Mare, will be disposed rather to give up Dr. Darwin’s hypothesis

than to mistrust his own feelings as to the difficulty of breathing, which

is far the most terrific and painful of any of the symptoms. The dread of

suffocation, arising from the inability of inflating the lungs, is so

great, that the person, who for the first time in his life is attacked by

this “worst phantom of the night,” generally imagines that he has very

narrowly escaped death, and that a few seconds more of the complaint would

have inevitably proved fatal. This disease, although neglected by modern

physicians, was well described and understood by those of the seventeenth

century, as well as by the Greeks and Romans.[1] There are few affections

more universally felt by all classes of society, yet it is seldom at

present considered of sufficient consequence to require medical advice. To

those nevertheless who, from sedentary habits, and depraved digestion, are

the most frequent subjects of it, it is a source of great anxiety and

misery, breaking in upon their repose, and filling the mind with constant

alarms for more serious consequences, “making night hideous,” and

rendering the couch, which is to others the sweet refuge from all the

cares of life, to them an object of dread and terror. To such persons, any

alleviation of their sufferings will be considered an act of philanthropy;

as they are now in general only deterred from applying to the

practitioners of medicine for relief, from the idea that their case is out

of the reach of medicine.

It is a very well known fact, however, that this affection is by no means

free from danger. I have known one instance in which a paroxysm of it

certainly proved fatal, and I have heard of several others. I do not doubt

indeed but that this happens oftener than is suspected, where persons have

been found dead in their beds, who had retired to rest in apparent health.

I do not know that any late writer has observed a fatal case of

Night-Mare, but we find a circumstance recorded by Cœlius Aurelianus, who

is supposed to have lived a short time before Galen, which, if true, is

very remarkable; and I know no reason why it should be doubted. Yet I am

aware that in the age in which we live, it is a common practice, not

merely to doubt, but to contradict every fact recorded by ancient writers,

which, if admitted, would militate against any received theory. Cœlius

Aurelianus, however, informs us, upon the authority of _Silimachus_, a

follower of Hippocrates, that this affection was once epidemic at Rome,

and that a great number of persons in that city died of it.[2]

A young man, of sober habits, about thirty years of age, by trade a

carpenter, had been all his life subject to severe attacks of Night-Mare.

During the paroxysm he frequently struggled violently, and vociferated

loudly. Being at Norwich for some business, which detained him there

several weeks, he one night retired to bed in apparent good health;

whether he had eaten supper, or what he had taken previously to going to

bed, or during the day, I cannot now remember. In the night, or towards

morning, he was heard by some of the family in the house where he lodged

to vociferate and groan as he had been accustomed to do during the

paroxysms of Night-Mare; but as he was, after no great length of time,

perfectly quiet, no person went to his assistance. In the morning,

however, it was soon observed that he did not, as usual, make his

appearance, and on some person going into his room, he was found dead,

having thrown himself by his exertions and struggles out of bed, with his

feet, however, still entangled among the bed-clothes. This patient, and

the circumstances attending his death, were very well known to me, and I

have not the least doubt that it was Night-Mare which proved fatal to him.

A similar case has been related to me by a person deserving of credit,

and I do not doubt but they are of more frequent occurrence than is

generally supposed. It may appear surprising to some, that a person should

struggle with so much violence as to throw himself out of bed, and yet not

shake off the Night-Mare, since, in general, it is sufficient to call a

person by his name, and he will recover. This is indeed true in common

cases, and in every case it is of much more service than any exertions

which the patient himself can make. I once at sea, in a paroxysm of

Night-Mare, threw myself out of my cot, and it nearly cost me my life. Had

any person been near to have taken hold of my hand, and have called to me,

I should have been easily recovered, whilst, notwithstanding my struggles,

and the violence with which I fell out of my cot, I lay nevertheless for

some time partly upon a chest, and partly upon the cot, without being able

to recover myself. I cannot help thinking that, but for the violent

motion of the ship (as it was blowing a gale of wind), and the noise from

every thing about me, that paroxysm of Night-Mare would have proved fatal.

The disease had then gained very much upon me, and was at its greatest

height.

Although instances of a fatal termination of this disease may be rare; it

is not so, to find it degenerate into Epilepsy, of which it is frequently

the forerunner, and to which, when it has become habitual, it appears to

bear a great affinity. There is however a great difference in the degree

of danger, between an accidental and an habitual Night-Mare, which we

shall have occasion to notice hereafter.

I shall begin by describing this affection as it most commonly occurs,

pointing out the various degrees and varieties of it, and the persons most

subject to it. Its remote and proximate causes will be the next subject of

consideration, and lastly the means necessary to be pursued for avoiding

it, as well as those likely to afford immediate relief.

This affection has been very elegantly and correctly described both by

physicians and poets. There are two descriptions of the latter kind which

I cannot help placing before the reader; the first is given by the Prince

of Latin Poets; the other by one, (not the least,) of our own country.

_Ac veluti in somnis, oculos ubi languida pressit

Nocte quies, nequidquam avidos extendere cursus

Velle videmur, et in mediis conatibus ægri

Succidimus; non lingua valet, non corpore notæ

Sufficiunt vires, nec vox aut verba sequuntur._

VIRGIL. _Æneid. Lib. xii. v. 909. et sequent._

In broken dreams the image rose

Of varied perils, pains, and woes;

His steed now flounders in the brake,

Now sinks his barge upon the lake;

Now leader of a broken host,

His standard falls, his honour’s lost.

Then--from my couch may heavenly might

Chase that worst phantom of the night!

LADY OF THE LAKE, Canto 1. xxiii.

In tracing out the symptoms and mode of attack, I shall particularize

those symptoms which I have experienced in my own person, and take notice

likewise of those described by other writers on the subject.

First then, this disease attacks always during sleep. This is a truth of

which I am now well assured, although frequently the evidence of my senses

has apparently produced a contrary conviction. Whatever may be the

situation of the patient at the moment previous to the invasion of the

disease, he is at that moment asleep, although the transition from the

waking to the sleeping state may be so rapid as to be imperceptible. I

will explain this part of the subject more fully by and by, at present we

will assume the fact, and proceed to enumerate the symptoms. If the

patient be in a profound sleep, he is generally alarmed with some

disagreeable dream; he imagines that he is exposed to some danger, or

pursued by some enemy which he cannot avoid; frequently he feels as

though his legs were tied, or deprived of the power of motion; sometimes

he fancies himself confined in some very close place, where he is in

danger of suffocation, or at the bottom of a cavern or vault from which

his return is intercepted. It will not unfrequently happen, that this is

the whole of the sensation which the disease, for the time, produces, when

it goes off without creating any further annoyance: the patient either

falls into an oblivious slumber, or the alarming dream is succeeded by one

more pleasant. In this case the disease is not fully formed, but only

threatens an invasion; it proves however that the pre-disposition to it

exists, and that the person is in danger of it. But when the paroxysm does

actually take place, the uneasiness of the patient in his dream rapidly

increases, till it ends in a kind of consciousness that he is in bed, and

asleep; but he feels to be oppressed with some weight which confines him

upon his back and prevents his breathing, which is now become extremely

laborious, so that the lungs cannot be fully inflated by any effort he can

make. The sensation is now the most painful that can be conceived; the

person becomes every instant more awake and conscious of his situation: he

makes violent efforts to move his limbs, especially his arms, with a view

of throwing off the incumbent weight, but not a muscle will obey the

impulse of the will: he groans aloud, if he has strength to do it, while

every effort he makes seems to exhaust the little remaining vigour. The

difficulty of breathing goes on increasing, so that every breath he draws,

seems to be almost the last that he is likely to draw; the heart generally

moves with increased velocity, sometimes is affected with palpitation; the

countenance appears ghastly, and the eyes are half open. The patient, if

left to himself, lies in this state generally about a minute or two, when

he recovers all at once the power of volition: upon which he either jumps

up in bed, or instantly changes his position, so as to wake himself

thoroughly. If this be not done, the paroxysm is very apt to recur again

immediately, as the propensity to sleep is almost irresistible, and, if

yielded to, another paroxysm of Night-Mare is for the most part

inevitable.

Where the Disease has not established itself by very frequent recurrence,

the patient generally feels little inconvenience from it when thoroughly

awoke; but where it is habitual, there will generally be felt some

confusion in the head, with singing in the ears, a sense of weight about

the forehead, and, if in the dark, luminous _spectra_ are frequently seen,

such as appear to persons who immediately after gazing on a strong light,

close their eyes. The pulse, I believe, will in all instances be found to

be considerably accelerated; in my own case the motion of the heart

amounts almost to a palpitation.

I do not find this symptom taken notice of by any writer on the subject,

excepting Etmuller, whose accuracy in tracing the history of every disease

allowed no symptom to escape him. When reasoning on the phenomena which

this affection exhibits, “_et cum etiam simul sub respirationis defectu

imminuta plus minus evadat sanguinis circulatio, ob id ab eodem infarcti

pulmones anxietatem insignem præcordiorum inducunt: sicut dum evigilant

tales ægri, cor insignitur palpitat, quod testatur motum

convulsivum_.”--This palpitation of the heart grows stronger in proportion

to the length of the paroxysm, or the difficulty the patient finds in

waking himself.

There is, however, another symptom, which, as far as I am able to learn,

is very frequent, though not noticed by medical writers. (_Scilicet._)

_Priapismus interdum vix tolerabilis et aliquamdiu post paroxysmi

solutionem persistens._ I have noticed this symptom here, as I intend

presently to draw some inference from it. A sense of weight at the

stomach, and an unpleasant taste in the mouth will generally be found to

remain after the paroxysm, though seldom noticed, as it is not suspected

to have any connexion with the Night-Mare.

These are the most ordinary symptoms, and such as generally happen in

almost all paroxysms of Night-Mare; there are, however, other symptoms

which occasionally occur, and which sometimes cause no small alarm to the

patient. It frequently happens too, that the paroxysm goes off without the

patient waking, and in that case is productive of strange hallucination to

the person who is not accustomed to these paroxysms. It is by no means an

uncommon thing for the person labouring under Night-Mare to see, or at

least to imagine that he sees, some figure, either human, or otherwise,

standing by him, threatening him, or deriding, or oppressing him. This

circumstance has been productive of considerable misapprehensions and

mistakes, not only with persons of weak minds, but likewise with those

whose intellectual faculties have been greatly improved.--These visions

are various, as are likewise the senses which become thus hallucinated;

not only the sight, but the hearing, and the touch, are frequently imposed

on. These hallucinations have so often occurred to myself, that they have

long been rendered quite familiar, although they are still sometimes

productive of very laughable mistakes. As they are more frequently,

however, of the terrific cast, they act very powerfully on the minds of

those who are not acquainted with them, and produce terrors which I verily

believe sometimes prove fatal. I shall give some instances of these kinds

of visions which I have had from the most indubitable authority, and I do

not doubt but that many readers will find in their own recollections a

number of circumstances apparently incredible, which will easily admit

of the same solution. I must first premise, that the degree of

consciousness during a paroxysm of Night-Mare is so much greater than ever

happens in a dream, that the person who has had a vision of this kind

cannot easily bring himself to acknowledge the deceit, unless, as often

happens, he wakes out of the paroxysm, and finds himself in a very

different place to what he must have been in for such a transaction to

have occurred. When however, all the circumstances of time and place

concur with the vision, which sometimes happens, and the patient does not

wake in the paroxysm, but continues asleep for some time after, the

transactions which occurred during the paroxysm of Night-Mare, and those

of the dreams which took place during profound sleep are so very different

as to the impression they have left on the sensorium, that there is no

possibility of confounding them with one another. Indeed I know no way

which a man has of convincing himself that the vision which has occurred

during a paroxysm of Night-Mare, (if it be consistent in point of time and

place,) is not real, unless he could have the evidence of other persons to

the contrary who were present, and awake at the time, or that these

hallucinations were rendered familiar to him by frequent repetition. I

shall mention some circumstances here, which have occurred to myself and

to others, which will place this subject in a clearer point of view.

The first case of this kind which I shall relate, I had from the mouth of

a person of undoubted veracity, who never understood the nature of the

hallucination; but who, to the day of his death, was convinced that he had

received a supernatural visitation.

Mr. T----, a dissenting minister, was on a journey in Suffolk, and slept

at the house of a friend. He was desired by the master of the family not

to disturb himself in the morning till he was called; supposing that he

was fatigued and would require repose. Mr. T----, however, did not sleep

very sound, he awoke often, and as it was in the summer season, and he had

no watch with him, began to grow anxious about the time, as it had been

long day-light: he thought, however, on what he had been told over night,

and was expecting very shortly to be called to breakfast. He described

himself as being awoke out of his sleep by hearing distinctly some person

in an adjoining room get out of bed, and walk across the room to a door

communicating with his own, which he heard opened, and a voice called to

him, repeating distinctly his name, three times. He supposes that he

immediately afterwards fell asleep, and did not wake till some time after,

when, he observed, he had a paroxysm of Night-Mare; on recovering,

however, from this, he instantly got up, supposing that he had overslept

himself, and that the family would be waiting for him to breakfast. He was

greatly surprised to find the doors and the windows of the house all close

shut, and no one of the family stirring; it was in fact only five o’clock

in the morning. He consequently returned to bed, and slept comfortably

till breakfast was really announced to him. He related to the family the

adventure which had occurred to him, which seemed to cause little

surprize, but produced tears from some of them: they informed him that

nobody slept in the adjoining room, but that it had formerly been occupied

by their son, who had been several years at sea; that they had heard

nothing of him for some months, and entertained no doubt of his being

dead, and this circumstance served to confirm them in their opinion, and

left no doubt in the minds of all present that Mr. T---- had received a

supernatural visitation. Mr. T---- was himself of the same opinion to the

day of his death, although the young gentleman whose fate was considered

so well ascertained, proved in the sequel to be alive.

This, I am convinced, was a genuine case of Night-Mare, as I have very

frequently experienced something very similar to it, as I shall explain by

and by.

The next case I shall notice is that of a student in medicine, whom I have

often heard seriously relating the circumstance, and who could never be

persuaded that there was a possibility of his being deceived, till some

years afterwards, when another hallucination, equally strong, but

inconsistent as to time and place, pointed out to him the fallacy of such

visions. At the age of fifteen or sixteen, he described himself as lying

awake in the night, when he heard distinctly some one coming up the

stairs, and immediately afterwards saw a female figure enter his bed-room,

which he supposed to be his mother, who had died while he was in his

infancy, but whose person had been frequently described to him. The figure

before him answered precisely to the idea he had formed of her person, and

excited in him considerable alarm. She beckoned to him to get up and

follow her, which, after many ineffectual attempts, he at length

accomplished, and followed her to the bottom of the stairs, where he lost

sight of her, and returned to bed. This vision was repeated, either the

next night, or shortly after, but with this difference, that he found

himself unable to get out of bed, and the spectre quitted the room with

threatening gestures, and an indignant aspect. This vision made a deep

impression on the mind of the young gentleman, and no reasoning upon the

subject could convince him of the hallucination of the vision, till a

repetition of it several years afterwards, under circumstances equally

strong, but impossible in themselves, produced that conviction which

reasoning could not effect.

I know a gentleman, who is living at this moment, a slave to a needless

terror, arising from a circumstance which admits easily of explanation

from this cause. He was lying in bed with his wife, and, as he supposed,

quite awake; when he felt distinctly the impression of some person’s hand

upon his right shoulder, which created such a degree of alarm that he

dared not to move himself in bed, and indeed could not if he had possessed

the courage. It was some time before he had it in his power to awake his

wife, and to communicate to her the subject of his terror. The shoulder

which had felt the impression of the hand, continued to feel benumbed and

uncomfortable for some time; it had been uncovered, and most probably the

cold to which it was exposed, was the sole cause of the phenomenon. This

gentleman, I know, was, when at school, very subject to the Night-Mare:

this circumstance, however, was productive of the greatest terror, as he

never assigned to it any other cause than that of supernatural agency, and

considered it as a warning of some impending calamity. More than ten years

have elapsed since it occurred, and though the terror it occasioned has

been greatly diminished by time, it has not yet subsided entirely.

The case which I am now about to relate, is a remarkable instance of the

forcible impression which these visions are capable of making on the mind,

and is worthy of the utmost consideration of those persons who may feel

the strongest conviction in their own breasts that they have received some

supernatural visitation. Mr. B * * *, the young gentleman who is the

subject of it, is at this moment a student of medicine in one of the

London hospitals, and the fact I am going to relate is very well known to

all his friends and acquaintances. His first attendance at the hospitals

was about six years ago, and he was then of an age considerably less than

gentlemen usually are, who enter on the public courses of medicine. He had

never before been in town, and his mind, naturally timid and irritable,

was at that moment disposed in an extraordinary manner to reflections of a

terrific and alarming nature. He had no small dread on his mind, of the

robbers and house-breakers of the metropolis, of whose daring exploits he

had heard many terrible stories; added to this, he had conceived a fresh

stock of ideas of horror from his first introduction to the dissecting

rooms, so that it may readily be imagined, when alone and in the dark, he

could never be perfectly at his ease. Indeed I have often known some of

the bravest men, who would face death in the time of action, or of

imminent danger, with undaunted courage, who nevertheless were as timid as

children, where they have any idea of supernatural appearances: and I

have even observed this timidity in officers of rank, who have been

distinguished and rewarded by the country for their gallant exploits. Mr.

B * * *, however, thus relates the incident: he was living in lodgings in

the vicinity of St. Thomas’s Hospital, and happening to wake in the middle

of the night, as he imagined, he heard the sound of footsteps approach his

door, which was quickly opened, and he saw distinctly a man enter the

room, whom he described as having on a blue coat with white buttons; the

moon was shining into the room, and he could see every object distinctly:

the man approached the side of the bed, when Mr. B * * * drew himself

under the bed-clothes; in this situation he heard distinctly, the ticking

of his watch under the pillow, where he had always taken the precaution to

secure it: in a short time he felt the hand of the man rummaging the

pillow, as if with the design of seizing the watch; upon which Mr. B * * *

drew the watch gently into the bed, and concealed it there: he still,

however, felt distinctly the man’s hand under the pillow, and was now in

the greatest alarm imaginable, not only for his watch, but for his

personal safety, and began to complain aloud of pain in the bowels,

accusing the supper he had eaten as being the cause of the disturbance,

with the idea, that by this stratagem he might succeed in getting up and

going out of the room, without exciting any suspicion in the man, who was

still (as he supposed) standing by the bed-side, as to the true cause of

his getting up. He at length ventured to get out on the opposite side of

the bed, and hastened towards the door: the man followed him, and he says

he felt distinctly the impression of his hand upon one shoulder, just as

he was escaping out of the door. He ran instantly into the bed-room of the

man who kept the house, and gave an alarm. This person immediately arose

and called in the watchman; the house was searched from top to bottom very

strictly, but no person of any description could be found: the doors and

windows were all secure, nor was there a possibility of any one getting in

or out of the house unobserved. Mr. B * * *, however, could not be

satisfied on this score; the evidence of his own senses, which had never

before deceived him, appeared to him to be superior to all other evidence

whatsoever. He quitted his lodgings the next day, and retained

pertinaciously the opinion, that what he had seen was real, until more

than a year afterwards, when being at sea, he was again visited by this

extraordinary affection, and was equally certain of the reality of his

vision. But in this case, he had the opportunity of proving, in the most

satisfactory manner, that it was a delusion. He thought that one of his

comrades had come to the side of his hammock, and lifting it up, pressed

his breast against the beams, so that he could scarcely breathe. On

recovering from this seemingly dangerous predicament, he jumped out of bed

and made no less outcry about this affair, than he had done about the

former. The proof, however, in this case, was much easier to procure. A

sentry, whose post was close to his hammock, could vouch for no person

having approached the spot; and the gentleman, whom he thought he had seen

lifting up his hammock, was abed and asleep. Mr. B * * * has since this

time been frequently affected by Night-Mare, and being now under no alarm

about the visions, can always contemplate them calmly, and satisfy himself

thoroughly of their delusion.

I could recapitulate a number of instances of the same kind, but shall

only take notice of one or two more, which occurred to myself; such as

tend to throw a light upon the subject, and which, from their

consistency, left me in great doubt whether they were real or visionary

occurrences.

In the month of February, 1814, I was living in the same house with a

young gentleman, the son of a peer of the United Kingdom, who was at that

time under my care in a very alarming state of health; and who had been,

for several days, in a state of violent delirium. The close attention

which his case required from me, together with a degree of personal

attachment to him, had rendered me extremely anxious about him; and as my

usual hours of sleep suffered a great degree of interruption from the

attendance given to him, I was from that cause alone rendered more than

usually liable to the attacks of Night-Mare, which consequently intruded

itself every night upon my slumbers. The young gentleman in question, from

the violence of his delirium, was with great difficulty kept in bed; and

had once or twice eluded the vigilance of his attendants, and jumped out

of bed: an accident, of which I was every moment dreading a repetition. I

awoke from my sleep one morning about four o’clock, at least it appeared

to me that I awoke, and heard distinctly the voice of this young

gentleman, who seemed to be coming hastily up the stairs leading to my

apartment, calling me by name, in the manner he was accustomed to do in

his delirium; and immediately after I saw him standing by my bed-side

holding the curtains open, expressing all that wildness in his looks,

which accompanies violent delirium. At the same moment, I heard the voices

of his two attendants coming up the stairs in search of him, who likewise

came into the room, and took him away. During all this scene I was

attempting to speak, but could not articulate; I thought, however, that I

succeeded in attempting to get out of bed, and assisting his attendants in

removing him out of the room, after which I returned to bed, and

instantly fell asleep. When I waited upon my patient in the morning, I was

not a little surprised to find that he was asleep; and was utterly

confounded on being told that he had been so all night; and as this was

the first sleep he had enjoyed for three or four days, the attendants were

very minute in detailing the whole particulars of it. Although this

account appeared inconsistent with what I conceived I had seen, and with

what I concluded they knew as well as myself, I did not for some time

perceive the error into which I had been led, till I observed, that some

of my questions and remarks were not intelligible; then I began to suspect

the true source of the error, which I should never have discovered, had

not experience rendered these hallucinations familiar to me. But the whole

of this transaction had so much consistency and probability in it, that I

might, under different circumstances, have remained for ever ignorant of

having been imposed upon, in this instance, by my senses. The idea which I

myself entertained on the subject was this; that when the person came to

my bed-side, I was actually labouring under a paroxysm of Night-Mare,

which prevented my speaking to him, (a circumstance which has often

happened to me in the morning, when my servant has come to announce to me

that it was time to rise;) but that the arrival of the attendants, and the

noise and confusion created by the transaction, had dispelled the

Night-Mare, and I was then able to get up and render the necessary

assistance. The whole of this was probable enough, but no part of it true;

for the whole was a dream: the first part of which occurred during the

state of Night-Mare, which is a species of _somnium_; a state neither of

sleeping or waking, but essentially different from both; a state in which

I possessed a degree of consciousness which never accompanies sleep; so

much, indeed, that I was aware I was in bed, and was labouring under a

paroxysm of Night-Mare. This paroxysm continued but a short time, and went

off again before I awoke thoroughly. In short, having now no disturbance I

continued to sleep for some time, till a second paroxysm of _Incubus_

awoke me. Had I awoke in the first paroxysm, I should have instantly

perceived the fallacy of the vision; but not having had that conviction,

and the dream being continued after the paroxysm of _Incubus_ had ceased,

without any great deviation from probability, I had no means of conviction

left but the evidence of the persons themselves, the former part of the

transaction having made precisely the same impression on the mind, as if

such a thing had really occurred; and although the recollection of the

latter part of it was not so very distinct, but on the contrary, rather

confused, yet the degree of certainty which attached itself to the

principal part of the transaction, was such as would have prevented all

suspicion. In fact, the extreme probability of the whole, would have left

in my mind a thorough conviction that such a transaction had really

occurred, and the idea would have been so associated with the rest of the

train of ideas which related to the person in question, that in all

probability I should never have thought of his illness without calling to

mind, at the same time, his appearance at my bed-side in the middle of the

night, in a state of violent delirium, and the scene of confusion to which

it gave rise.

One more instance I will mention, merely to shew how complete the

conviction of the mind frequently is, where the bounds of probability or

even of possibility have not been exceeded by the vision or hallucination,

which takes place in Night-Mare.

This affection has always attacked me at sea with greater severity than

on shore. I have already hinted, that during the paroxysms, I have

frequently possessed that degree of consciousness, that I have been aware

that my servant was knocking at my door, announcing to me the hour of the

morning. Experience has repeatedly proved to me that I was correct in my

perceptions; often too have I found by experience, that I was widely

mistaken. The instance I am going to relate happened on board one of his

Majesty’s ships at Spithead: I was lying in my cot, labouring under a

paroxysm of Night-Mare; it was broad day-light, and I could perceive

distinctly all the objects in my cabin, which came within the range of

vision; I was likewise conscious of labouring at the moment under this

disagreeable malady, when I heard distinctly a person approach the cabin

door, and immediately after knock at it, and a well known voice of a

Quarter-master, who was often in the habit of calling me, after repeating

my name, informed me that the Captain wished to see me immediately. I was

unable to make any answer to this, although I attempted it, and both the

knocking and the message were repeated, I do not now remember whether

twice or thrice; I heard, however, the person retire from the cabin door.

As soon as I recovered, I rose and hastened to obey the summons which I

had received, but was soon informed that the Captain was not on board, and

that no messenger of any kind had been near my cabin.

These instances I have adduced, to shew how very strong a sense of

conviction they impress on the mind of their reality, when there is any

degree of probability in the transaction, and the evidence afforded by the

senses is no less striking when the vision itself is ever so extravagant.

When, however, the patient awakes immediately out of the Night-Mare, he is

generally at once convinced of the hallucination; unless in cases of

extreme probability like the last mentioned instance. But when the

paroxysm of Night-Mare goes off, and the patient continues asleep for some

time after, the confusion of ideas which succeed on waking is very

perplexing. If he has had any vision during the Night-Mare, the impression

of it remains on the mind like any transaction which has really occurred,

and he has no method of ascertaining the true nature of the case, but by

considering the degree of probability, and comparing it with his past

experience of similar hallucinations; if he has no such experience, it is

ten to one whether he will ever arrive at a true understanding of the

affair.

Hence it is easy to conceive, how many well-meaning persons may frequently

deceive themselves and others with the belief of having seen spectres,

heard voices, &c. in the dead of the night; and it is not very improbable

that a well-grounded conviction in the mind of any person, of having

received a supernatural warning of their approaching fate, should, under

certain circumstances, be productive of the very event which was thus

foreboded and dreaded. I could relate a number of instances where the

visions accompanying paroxysms of _Incubus_, have been of the most

terrific kind.[3] I think enough has been said on that subject to shew how

easily a person may be deceived where he thinks he has the evidence of his

own senses; and I have selected such histories in my own case to

illustrate this truth by, as were least likely to be suspected of arising

from fright or terror, or any cause that could be much aided by the

imagination.

I wish it, however, to be understood, that I by no means intend to explain

by this hypothesis, all the extraordinary accounts of supernatural

operations which are given us on indubitable authority, and supported by

unquestionable evidence. I am aware that there are a great many cases to

which it will not apply, neither can any one principle possibly explain

them all. I have been very much surprised to see a late medical writer on

the subject of apparitions, attempt to explain all the cases he has

adduced, by supposing the disease to exist, so ably described by Nicolai,

and of which several cases have been given by Dr. Alderson of Hull.

He has himself recorded several instances of spectres, which appear to be

closely connected with the death of persons at a distance, and with some

of the most important circumstances in the lives of the persons who saw

these appearances: he even admits the truth of these instances, yet

ascribes the most important circumstances attending them to chance.

Of all the modes of solving difficulties, which mankind have ever had

recourse to, this is certainly the least _philosophical_. In the present

age however it appears to be considered still more _unphilosophical_ to

acknowledge that any phenomenon, however extraordinary, is above our

comprehension.

I have been rather prolix on this subject, because I do not remember to

have seen any correct account of it in any writer, although the

circumstance of seeing spectres during the paroxysm of Incubus is noticed

by the most ancient medical writers and others, both Greek and Roman; many

of whom attributed the whole phenomenon of _Ephialtes_, or _Incubus_, to

the agency of Dæmons. This affection has likewise been noticed by St.

Augustine as well as other Fathers of the Church, who considered it to be

the work of Dæmons, and speaks of it as a thing common in those

days.--ST. AUGUSTIN. _De Civitate Dei_, lib. 15. c. 23.--“_Dæmones,

scilicet, qui mulieribus se commiscent, et ab incubando_ INCUBI _dicuntur,

sicuti, qui viris, et patiuntur muliebria_, SUCCUBI.” “_Sunt nonnulli, qui

hoc malum Incubi nomen accepisse putant, ex eo, quod Ephialte laborantes,

opinantur, hominem qui illos opprimit, turpis libidinis usum ab iis

exigere, seu una cum illis concumbere._”--SENNERTUS, Tom. ii. Liber i.

part. 2. Cap. xxix. _de Incubo_.

_Vide quæ supra de Priapismo memoravimus; necnon de Cordis palpitatione

quæ revera Priapismi etiam somnorumque supradictorum causa mihi esse

videtur; impulsum est nimirum in arterias pudicas plus sanguinis quam per

venas revehi potest, unde partes genitales vellicantur et stimulantur,

somniisque venereis, non tamen sine horrore quodam, ansa præbetur._

There is a symptom, said by Etmuller, and some others of the ancient

medical writers, to occur frequently in this disease, but which I have

never met with; that is, the appearance of red, or livid, or purple spots

upon the limbs and body, but especially on the thighs.--These are said to

remain till morning, and then disappear.

The following case is related by that celebrated Physician: