Aged forty-three, admitted 28th February 1822. This imaginary great
man had formerly been a ship-carpenter in the British navy, and
was on board the fatal expedition to Walcheren, in 1809; where he
caught the fever and ague, then so prevalent and so destructive to
our brave troops. The master chord of this poor fellow’s malady is
an insurmountable notion that he is bewitched by his wife; and so
prevalent with him is this persuasion, that whether his appetite fails
or he wants sleep, or feels pain or extraordinary uneasiness of mind,
he attributes all to this witchery of his helpmate.
He frequently holds conversations with himself, and will smile at any
thing pleasant that seems to occur to him in these soliloquies. He was
stationed for several years in the East-Indies, from his recollection
of which he assumes much importance. According to his own account, he
was intimately acquainted with all the admirals, generals, and other
principal officers in that quarter. “Surrounded,” says he, “by all
the brave men of the age, I was highly honoured and respected: I had
my sepoys to attend me, and was just as I ought to be, treated like a
gentleman.”
His fancy supplied him with exhaustless details of battles never
fought, sea engagements that never occurred, and most extraordinary
events which have never taken place. He was, according to his own
story, the leading man on all occasions; first called on to build
up, or pull down; and his professional instruments, the axe, mallet,
hammer, and chisel, were uppermost in his fancy.
His disease, however, was so far cured, that he obtained liberation, on
leave of absence, on the 9th of May; and was finally discharged well,
on the 24th of October 1822.