Aged twenty-one, a young farmer, admitted 25th August 1819. The malady
of this young man was rather idiotcy than frenzy. He was quite
harmless, and only remarkable for his quickness in running, for his sly
looks, and a constant laughing grin on his countenance. He would run
twenty circuits of the airing ground at a time, with the rapid speed of
a hare, and laugh and grin for an hour afterwards. He had no vicious
propensity, and was a hale, well-looking country youth; but he was
discharged, uncured, on the 24th of August 1820.
In the month of May, in the same year, the physician ordered a dozen
leeches to be applied to his temples: they were applied accordingly,
and soon filled ready to fall off. The keeper, who was attending him,
went hastily to answer to the bell which had rung for him, leaving
Poole perfectly quiet; but on his return the leeches had vanished,
and Poole appeared smeared all over with blood, and was chewing away
something with redoubled eagerness, in hopes of finishing his _bon
bouche_ before the keeper came back. The keeper immediately conjectured
that he had eaten the leeches, and caused him immediately to empty his
mouth, when he found the masticated remains of the animals reduced to a
state just fit for gorging. Upon collecting the mass, he found his ward
had swallowed but little, if any part of them; but great part of the
blood they had imbibed certainly had returned to the original system
whence it came.
After he was cleaned from the gore which covered him, the keeper
asked him what he had been doing? And why he had attempted to eat the
leeches? He answered, “Oh! I only ate a few shrimps; give them to me,
if you please; I have had no shrimps for a good long time.”
He was sometimes employed to fetch coals to the fires; and if, on his
way to the coal or dust-hole, he found any pieces of soap, candles,
cold potatoes, or any thing capable of being eaten, he had no sort
of objection to gratifying his palate with it, regardless of filth,
flavour, quantity or quality.