An old North-countryman, admitted on the 6th of August 1818. This
poor fellow was formerly an inmate of Old Bethlem, and was also at a
private mad-house at Hoxton. He had been a seafaring-man, and is much
deranged. He has at times lucid, or at least quiet intervals, and is
then remarkably composed; and when spoken to merely answers, yes or no.
But when his malady returns with some force, and the fit is high, he
is a loud ranter, and sometimes believes himself to be Moses: “The only
true Moses.” He is extremely abusive to every one he sees; suspects
all of robbing him, and is extremely addicted to chewing tobacco; in
the place of which he will chew rags, grass, or any thing else he can
get. Sometimes he will exclaim, “I am God; I will hang that rascal;”
pointing to somebody, “he has robbed me of five hundred johannas”
(gold or silver, as his fancy dictates). He considers all yellow
metal-buttons gold, and all white ones silver: and such is his avidity
to accumulate riches of this kind, while his delirium lasts (which is
generally about a week at a time), that he picks up, wherever he can
find them, pieces of glass, or scraps of tin, with which he contrives
to cut off all the buttons from his own coat, waistcoat, and breeches,
and from those of all the melancholy and stupid fellow-patients (never
attempting this with those of other descriptions); and the buttons thus
obtained he grinds upon the first convenient stone he meets, until they
are flat and smooth on both sides; and by virtue of this mintage they
become, in his estimation, “lawful money, gold or silver johannas.”
The total defect of buttons on his own clothes he supplies by various
strings torn from the rug on his bed, his blue handkerchief, or any
other rag. Those who give him tobacco, at once obtain his friendship;
but he will sell it to any one on any other terms.
He constantly talks of “his ships, of his great losses and misfortunes,
and the manner in which he will punish those who robbed him;” which
description includes every body he sees. He imagines himself to be a
consummate judge of the weather, and director of the winds. Sometimes
he changes from a mariner and ship-owner to a builder and mason, and
imagines he has a great deal of work to do.
He has never done any remarkable mischief; although, when in his
high fits, if he could find a weapon he would become dangerous, and
therefore cannot be trusted.