From Shropshire, middle-aged, admitted 8th of April 1819. This man,
whatever might have been the natural propensity of his mind in his
state of sanity, displays in his deranged state a cunning, wily,
treacherous and fierce disposition. When first admitted he appeared
to be so tame and tranquil, that he was permitted to work in the
garden, in order to occupy his attention, and afford him wholesome
and active exercise; but he soon betrayed the real ferocity of his
character. As he passed one day down the garden, he, without any
provocation or apparent cause, suddenly sprang upon the gardener
with the rage of a tiger, knocked him down, and kicked him most
unmercifully while down; and would probably have killed him, had he
not been suddenly overpowered and secured by the keepers. He has since
frequently attacked the keepers themselves, in the most furious and
formidable manner. He has a constant smile on his countenance, so that
no one within his reach can be secure for a moment, or aware of his
intention to pounce on any person who unguardedly approaches him. He
is generally very silent, seldom speaks to any one, and when he does
it is usually to ask; “Why do you keep I here? You have no business
to keep I here.” When he seems the most tranquil, he is then the most
fierce and dangerous; and no act of kindness can soothe him. When once
he commences his attack, he knows no bounds to his malice and fury.
He will strike, kick, or bite all indiscriminately, without favour
or respect to persons; and no kind action done for him, nor even the
giving him snuff, which he is fond of, will secure the donor against
his rage: for after receiving the little boon, he will devoutly pray
God bless the giver, and then spring upon him with the fury of a lion.
Sometimes, previously to one of those outrages, he will calmly ask for
a Bible; which, if he gets, he reads about half a chapter, returns
the book, and then seems ready for his work of vengeance. He once
attempted to murder his poor wife, previous to coming here, but was
most providentially prevented by averting his blow.
In September, 1822, his disorder seemed much abated, and he was
liberated for a short time from restraint (always avoided here if
possible), in the hope that restraint might no longer be necessary;
but he soon returned to his old practices. Restraint became again
requisite, and he is now the only patient in the hospital under strict
restraint (the ferocious Patrick Walsh excepted). He wears a belt, with
handcuffs attached, and hobbles upon his ancles.
For one good action, however, he deserves credit, by which much
mischief was prevented, and the sanguinary Walsh secured. When the
latter, after inflicting so many mortal wounds upon a poor patient
named Leonard, in April 1820, was menacing destruction to all who
approached him, Hollinge came behind, seized him round the neck, and
threw him to the ground, when he was secured by the keepers.
Hollinge is a strong healthy man, but has lately become very dirty and
negligent of himself.