was directed by the court to investigate the mental condition of the prisoner, and who, for that purpose, was allowed, as is the custom in France, to examine the evidence given at the preliminary trial. From this it appears, that on the 8th of April, 1845, a man named Lambert was bitten in the hand by a dog that was generally considered to be mad. The same day the wound was cauterized with the actual cautery. The next day he started for Nibas to find some one who could cure him, but stopped at Eu and consulted a lawyer from whom he got a secret remedy for hydrophobia. On the 11th he returned home, having been, during all this period, very anxious and abstracted, saying that he was lost. About one o'clock in the morning of Sunday, the 13th, he was heard howling in his room. The persons who went to him found him calm. He told them that he had perspired and trembled; that this was the first paroxysm of hydrophobia; that he must go directly to Nibas to get cured, as he might be then, but that after the third paroxysm, there could be no help for him. That day he went again to Eu, but the lawyer declined giving him a remedy, and told him he was more likely to be crazy than hydrophobic. The following night he did not go to bed, because, as he said, if he should lie down, a paroxysm would come on. On the 14th, about five o'clock in the morning, he came into the house [he slept over the stables] for the purpose of getting a purse of money, to carry into the fields. He sought for money in every direction, and then displayed it on the kitchen table, singing, laughing, and dancing. He committed these extravagances till noontime, when his mistress ordered him to go to work, which he refused to do. She then told him that, since he would not work, he might quit her service. He replied that it was necessary for him to be quiet that afternoon. He did not dine, but for two or three hours kept repeating that he had money, but it was a great misfortune, because he had stolen it from Dorothy, an old servant of the family, and would have his throat cut for it. In the morning he had had an altercation with his mistress because she had refused him the use of a horse, and called her an old tiger. About half-past two he had collected some money, and by way of preventing him from carrying it away, his mistress struck him with a little walking-stick. Lambert wrested the stick from her, threw her upon the floor, and then went to the kitchen, saying: "This is not the thing; I want the hatchet; I must kill her." With this weapon he returned to her room, and, having frightened away her maid, killed her by repeated blows on the head. In about ten minutes he went into the street, with the hatchet on his shoulder, pursuing every one who came in sight, and crying out, "long live the king, my fortune is made." He overtook a woman, and killed her with two strokes of the hatchet. On approaching another person, he said, "fear not, I do not mean to kill you;" but he raised the hatchet as if to strike him. Presently, he was shot down and secured, but a quarter of an hour after, he begged to be released, because he had eight more to kill. A witness told him he deserved to be shot, when he replied, "shoot." He appeared calm, and spoke in his ordinary tone. On his way to prison, he uttered cries, and tried to get away. He said to a witness, "that if he died without killing him, he should not die content." "Why," he said, "should he regret having killed his mistress; if he had taken her money, it was only to give it away in charity, which she never would do herself. Here, too, he cried, "long live the king; Jesus, my God; my fortune is. made." At nine o'clock he arrived at the prison, where he tried to kick one of the witnesses. Here he soon became taciturn and abstracted, and refused food. Shortly after, he slept. On the 15th he was abstracted and dull, and seemed to be surprised when told of the cause of his arrest and of his wounds. He cursed any one who would harm so good a mistress as his. When examined by the magistrate, he professed not to know that he had been wounded, nor where he was, and denied having killed his mistress. "When was it?" said he; "I have not killed her. If I did, I was mad. Why should I have killed her? People do not kill without a motive." He denied having killed the other woman. "If I did," said he, "I do not remember it." On the 18th, he recognized the hatchet, but denied all knowledge of the murders. He recollected nothing since Sunday. From the 14th of April to the 6th of June, the physician who visited him every day, was unable to discover a single symptom of mental disorder, or of hydrophobia. The prisoner constantly declared that he had no recollection of the murders imputed to him. On the 6th of August, he was visited by Dr. Parchappe who found him with every appearance of good health, except that he walked with a little difficulty and had a sad expression of countenance. He denied all knowledge of the murders, and of other events subsequent to Sunday, as before stated. He was conscious of his situation, and shed tears. On the 12th of August, visited again, with the same result. - In regard to Lambert's mental condition, it is obvious that he was either insane or feigning insanity; and if insane, he must have been laboring under hydrophobia, or ordinary mania. The motiveless character of the acts, the circumstances of atrocity by which they were marked, and the previous good reputation of the prisoner, are at variance with the supposition of intentional crime, in which fact alone could be found any motive for his feigning insanity. We are, therefore, led to the conclusion that he must have been laboring under some form of mental disorder, either hydrophobia or mania. Although, from the time he was bitten, until the murder, he was evidently suffering with strong apprehensions of hydrophobia, yet, as Dr. Parchappe well observes, he exhibited at no time, a single diagnostic symptom of that disease. His mental disorder must have been a form of acute mania of which his excessive apprehensions of the consequences of the bite, were a powerfully exciting cause. To this idea which obtained complete possession of his mind, may be attributed the howling on Sunday, the fact which furnishes the strongest suspicion of simulation. It is more likely to have arisen in this manner, than to have been put forth as the only symptom of an affection which is marked by so many and such well known traits. By some, the very brief duration of the attack may 1 be regarded as a sufficient objection to this hypothesis. This is certainly an unusual feature of mania, yet its occurrence has been too often witnessed to be considered as problematical, (§ 120). Dr. Parchappe is most embarrassed by the complete unconsciousness of Lambert for a period of fortyeight hours, a fact which he conceives to be entirely unsupported by our knowledge of the disease. "In mania and the kindred forms of mental disorder unaccompanied by fever," he says, "the memory is preserved during the disease. After the return of reason, the insane remember all they have said and done and thought." He concludes, therefore, that, although the prisoner had actually suffered an attack of mania, he simulated this unconsciousness when he came to himself, in order the better to escape responsibility for his acts. Without disputing this hypothesis which may possibly be correct, we are not quite satisfied of the necessity of resorting to it at all, for our own observations do not lead us to agree with Dr. Parchappe, as to the matter of fact. We think we have occasionally met with a case not marked by any febrile movement, in which, after recovery, a certain period was a complete blank in the mind.1 1 Annales med. psyco. viii. 228. CHAPTER XVI. CONCEALED INSANITY. § 369. Ir sometimes happens, that when maniacs have learned what notions of theirs are accounted insane by others, and have understanding enough left to appreciate the legal consequences of their mental condition, they endea vor to conceal it, for the purpose of avoiding those consequences. If the address and ingenuity which they then manifest have occasionally succeeded in baffling the scrutiny of the most practised experts, it is not strange that common observers should have been frequently deceived, and that some of the medical profession even, with a knowledge of this fact before their eyes, should have been outwitted by their manœuvres. When it is considered that the insanity of many consists in a few insane notions which do not, to appearance, affect their general conduct and conversation, the difficulty of concealing it, by professing to have renounced their belief in these notions, is perhaps not greater than that which attends the accomplishment of most of their designs. Their task, too, is materially lessened, it is to be recollected, by the prevalent error, that madness is inseparable from boisterous behavior and complete disorder of the ideas. At the commencement of the French Revolution, when the mob broke into the lunatic hospitals, for the purpose of liberating those among their inmates whom they supposed to be unjustly confined, one man recounted his wrongs so clearly and connectedly, that he was deemed at once to be a victim of oppression, and ordered to be released. The use he made of his liberty soon convinced these enlightened champions of their race, that those who put him in confine |