Aged twenty-eight, admitted 28th October 1822. This unfortunate young
man is the son of a farmer near Chepstow, in Monmouthshire. No taint
of insanity ever before appeared in any of his family. Sudden fright
was the immediate cause of his derangement, and he now presents a
deplorable example of the mischievous consequences of those practical
jokes, so frequently played off for the momentary diversion of
inconsiderate young people, upon their unsuspecting companions, and
but too often productive of lamentable, and even fatal, consequences.
Numerous are the instances wherein dementation, and even death, have
followed the too sudden excitement of the stronger passions. The
momentary impulse of excessive fear, grief, and even of joy, have
produced those effects. The superstitious tales of ghosts and goblins,
so frequently impressed on infant minds, have often proved indelible
through life, in spite of education, philosophy, and all the powers
of reason; and we have heard numerous instances of brave men, who
have intrepidly mounted a breach, or stormed a battery pregnant with
death, who yet could hardly summon firmness enough to go alone in the
dark, or cross a church-yard after nightfall, merely from the early
impressions of nursery-tales told them in their childhood. A frightful
mask, a strange noise, a pretended ghost, or even the suddenly bouncing
on a person, wholly unaware of the trick, have often caused the most
deplorable consequences, not only in children but in adults, to the
loss of reason, and even of life.
Poor Dowle, the unhappy subject of this article, was a simple peasant;
and as he was one morning crossing his father’s fields, on his way to
his usual labours, cheerful, guardless, and, like another Cymon,
“Whistling as he went, for want of thought,”
an intimate rustic acquaintance saw him coming, knew his simplicity,
and, in mere frolick, stepped aside, and concealed himself behind a
bush until Dowle came up, when he suddenly rushed out upon him with
a loud shout. He was so astounded by the shock that he was struck
almost senseless: he staggered, fell, and fainted away. The current
of his blood seemed for some time arrested, and his pulsation ceased.
He was taken up and conveyed home; delirium ensued; and confirmed
madness followed, which has ever since continued without abatement,
to a degree not only pitiable, but dangerous to all who approach him.
His propensities are fierce and vicious; he tries to kick at all who
come near him, and even to bite at them, with all the rabid fury of
an enraged dog. In this manner he continually snaps at all who pass
him. He seizes and tears rugs, blankets, his own clothes, and any
thing within his reach. In this state, of course, he is not suffered
to have intercourse amongst the other patients, but is fastened to
the coal-chest in the basement gallery. His malady has shewn no signs
of abatement since he came in, and probably he may never recover his
reason. He appears quite unconscious of his situation, or of the place
where he is, nor does he seem to feel his confinement irksome; his only
object seems to be, watching for the approach of any one whom he may
attack.
Such, in his case, are the miserable effects of a practical joke, which
cannot fail to embitter for life the feelings of the unthinking author,
as well as those of the unfortunate young man’s family.