Chapter XI: Part 11
EV. A dream will sometimes half wake even a child to a state of terror, although children are with difficulty completely roused. I have known instances in which children would sit up in bed, with their eyes open, sobbing, and talking, and staring, in a sort of trance; nay, they will sometimes start from bed, but still asleep, and, after a time becoming calm, they have again composed themselves to slumber.
I have known sleep-talkers, who have not remembered one iota of their wanderings when awake; and even the ecstatic somnambulist, who pretends to prophecy wisdom, recollects nothing when the ecstacy is over. It is clear also, that the mind _varies_ in sleep and waking, in regard to its memory; for it has been proved that persons who often talk in their sleep, have renewed the exact points of a subject which terminated their last sleep-talking, although, in the waking interval, it was to them oblivion.
Somnambulism is the most perfect paradox among the phenomena of sleep, as it exhibits actions without a consciousness of them; indeed, so complete a suspension of sensibility, that contact, nay, intense inflictions, do not produce that mental consciousness which is calculated to excite alarm, or even attention.
There is a somewhat remote analogy to this, in the want of balance between the judgment and volition of ambitious minds. In the campaign of Russia, Napoleon’s march was a sort of somnambulism, for he must have been madly excited to action against his better judgment. In this he forms a curious contrast with his royal predecessor; for in Louis XVI. we observe a mind that might _conceive_ great things, but which volition hesitated to accomplish.
The points of the _mystery_ of somnambulism were never more forcibly illustrated, to my own mind, than in the following cases:
In 1833, a man was brought before Alderman Thorp, who had a parcel _cut from his arm_, although he had strapped it tightly on to prevent this, as he was often falling asleep, even during his walk. Yet, even then, he usually took the parcels to their proper directions.
The crew of a revenue boat on the coast of Ireland, about two o’clock in the morning, picked up a man swimming in the water. He had, it appeared, left his house about twelve; and walked two miles over a most dangerous path, and had swum about one mile. After he was taken into the boat, he could not be persuaded that he was not still in his warm bed at home.
In 1834, Marie Pau was admitted into the hospital at Bordeaux, her left hand and arm covered with deep and bleeding gashes, its tendons projecting and the bones broken. She had, in her sleep, gone into a loft to cut wood with a hedging bill. Thinking she was cutting the wood, she had hacked her fore-arm and hand, until she fainted away, and fell bathed in her blood. _She had felt no pain_, but merely had a sensation as if the parts were pricked with pins.
Some time ago, (I believe in the year 1832,) a journal thus records a case analogous in its nature, although less unhappy in its effects:
“Some fishermen at Le Conquest, near Brest, were surprised at finding, at two o’clock in the morning, a boy about twelve years old, up to his waist in the sea, fishing for flounders, of which he drew up five or six. Their surprise however was increased to wonder, when, on approaching him, they found that he was _fast asleep_. He was taken home and put to bed, but was immediately afterwards attacked with a raging fever.”
IDA. These walkers were of _low degree_; I presume philosophy is not altogether exempt from the fault.
EV. Oh no: Galen was a somnambulist; and Franklin assures us, that in a warm bath at Southampton, he floated on his back nearly an hour _in his sleep_.
Now that there is an apathy of the senses during somnambulism is clear, for the eyelids are unclosed, and if a candle be held to the eye of the somnambulist, the _actions_ of the _iris_ are seen, but there is seldom aversion of the head to avoid the glare. Was Mrs. Siddons aware of this, when she _smelt_ to her bloody hand, but _did not look upon it_? In sleep-walking, indeed, there is always _one_ at least of the five senses asleep. The actions of somnambulists often appear almost automatic without a reason for them; somewhat resembling instinct, as the beaver will still build his dome for shelter, even under a roof; or as monomaniacs will do a work in _three or four different places_, forgetful of their previous labour. It is evident, too, that there is a dulness of reflection when the progress is impeded. The somnambulist will try to _move on in a straight line_, overturning things in his course: thus Mathews, in _Somno_, overturned the tables, but had not the judgment to _go round_ them. Under very great obstruction to their progress, the somnambulists will sometimes burst into tears.
Gall relates the case of a miller, who every night got up and worked in his mill, _asleep_; and Martinet, of a saddler, who also worked nightly in his sleep; and Dr. Pritchard, of one who had been subject to epileptic fits, thus: “They ceased entirely until the nineteenth year of his age, when he became a somnambulist, working during the night at his trade as a saddler, getting out on the roof of the house, going out to walk, and occupying himself in a thousand various ways. Soon after this the fits of epilepsy reappeared, occurring every five or six days, increasing in duration, and commencing from that time only with a sensation of heat, which from the _epigastrium_ rapidly extended to the head, and produced complete insensibility. He was, at various times, relieved by bleeding; and, in the twenty-fourth year of his age, being then a soldier, he escaped three months without a return of his epilepsy. In the following year, he was astonished to find himself one night on the roof of the house, wet with rain; the impression which he thence conceived, produced, some time afterwards, an attack of epilepsy, followed by contraction of his fingers and toes.”
In many cases, however, there is some predeterminate motive for the walk, which excites the memory in the sleep. The somnambulist has been _thinking deeply, ere he retires to rest_, and the walk occurs early in the night; so that we might believe a mood of musing had really _prevented sleep_, and itself been the cause of the phenomena.
Thus may be explained the miracle recorded by Fulgosius. Marcus, the freedman of Pliny, dreamed that a barber, sitting on his bed, had shaved him, and awoke well trimmed;—Marcus had _unconsciously shaved himself_.
And also other cases related by Dr. Pritchard, of which I will offer you a fragment.
“——He is just recovering from a singular state of reverie, in which he has passed twenty-four hours. It began in the evening, with a _rigor_, which continued more or less the whole night. From that time he remained constantly in motion, walking up and down the room or about the house. He kept his eyes open, but was unconscious of external impressions; sometimes he muttered to himself, and by his gestures and the motions of his hands it appeared that he fancied himself to be working in his usual occupation. In this state he remained all the ensuing night and a part of the following day. During that time, he never ate or drank any thing in a natural manner; he sometimes caught hold of a piece of bread, and, having bitten it hastily, threw it down, and drank in the same way, immediately continuing his work. If he was spoken to, he was some time without taking any notice, and then would reply hastily, as a person does who is disturbed by a question when in a reverie.”
Our study of these curiosities of mind teaches us how intimately combined in their essence are all the species of illusion.
Somnambulism is a very common feature in epileptic idiots. In confirmed insanity also, we observe in an intense degree that fearless daring and almost preternatural power which characterise somnambulism. A Highland woman, in a state of _puerperal mania_, which was increased by a terrific dream, escaped to the gorges of the mountain, and herded with the deer. She became so fleet of foot that it was impossible to overtake her. One day, an awful tempest drove her and her “velvet companions” to the valleys, when she was secured. Providence, which “tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,” had covered her body with hair.
The dreamer walks and talks with imaginary people,—spectral illusion. The following is a perfect illustration of this night-fantasy. It is a story told to Sir Walter Scott by a Lisbon trader:—
“Somnambulism and other nocturnal deceptions lend their aid to the formation of such phantasmata as are formed in the middle state betwixt sleeping and waking. A most respectable person, whose active life had been spent as master and part-owner of a large merchant vessel in the Lisbon trade, gave an account of such an instance, which came under his observation. He was lying in the Tagus, when he was put to great anxiety and alarm by the following incident and its consequences:—One of his crew was murdered by a Portuguese assassin, and a report arose that the ghost of the slain man haunted the vessel. Sailors are generally superstitious, and those of my friend’s vessel became unwilling to remain on board the ship; and it was probable they might desert, rather than return to England with the ghost for a passenger. To prevent so great a calamity, the captain determined to examine the story to the bottom. He soon found that, though all pretended to have seen lights and heard noises, and so forth, the weight of the evidence lay upon the statement of one of his own mates, an Irishman and a catholic, which might increase his tendency to superstition; but in other respects a veracious, honest, and sensible person, whom Captain S. had no reason to suspect would wilfully deceive him. He affirmed to Captain S., with the deepest obtestations, that the spectre of the murdered man appeared to him almost nightly, took him from his place in the vessel, and, according to his own expression, worried his life out. He made these communications with a degree of horror, which intimated the reality of his distress and apprehensions. The captain, without any argument at the time, privately resolved to watch the motions of the ghost-seer in the night, whether alone, or with a witness, I have forgotten. As the ship-bell struck twelve, the sleeper started up with a ghastly and disturbed countenance, and lighting a candle proceeded to the galley, or cock-room, of the vessel. He sat down with his eyes open, staring before him, as on some terrible object which he beheld with horror, yet from which he could not withhold his eyes. After a short space he arose, took up a tin can or decanter, filled it with water, muttering to himself all the while, mixed salt in the water, and sprinkled it about the galley. Finally, he sighed deeply, like one relieved from a heavy burden, and, returning to his hammock, slept soundly. In the next morning, the haunted man told the usual precise story of his apparition, with the additional circumstances that the ghost had led him to the galley; but that he had fortunately, he knew not how, obtained possession of some holy water, and succeeded in getting rid of his unwelcome visitor. The visionary was then informed of the real transactions of the night, with so many particulars as to satisfy him he had been the dupe of his imagination. He acquiesced in his commander’s reasoning, and the dream, as often happens in these cases, returned no more after its imposture had been detected.”
The case I am about to relate occurred within my own experience.
A butcher’s boy, about sixteen years old, apparently in perfect health, after dosing a few minutes in his chair, suddenly started up, and began to employ himself about his usual avocations. He had saddled and mounted his horse, and it was with the greatest difficulty that those around him could remove him from the saddle and carry him within doors. While he was held in the chair by force, he continued violently the actions of kicking, whipping, and spurring. His observations regarding orders from his master’s customers, the payment at the turnpike-gate, &c. were seemingly rational. The eyes when opened were perfectly sensible to light. It appears that flagellation even had no effect in restoring the patient to a proper sense of his condition. The pulse in this case was 130, full and hard; on the abstraction of thirty ounces of blood it sunk to 80, and _diaphoresis_ ensued. After labouring under this phrenzy for the space of an hour, he became sensible; was astonished at what he was told had happened, and stated that he recollected nothing subsequent to his having fetched some water and moved from one chair to another, which indeed he _had_ done immediately before his delirium came on.
CAST. In the monastery of ——, this story was told to a party of Alpine travellers, to beguile our winter’s evening.
A melancholic nobleman of Italy, Signor Augustin, walked usually at the waning of the moon. The walk was always preceded by his lying on his back, with eyes fixed and open. At this time the beatings of his heart were scarcely perceptible. During this state, he noticed none of his companions around him; but if any noise was made by them, his steps were hurried and agitated, and if the noise was increased, a sort of maniacal state was induced. In his sleep he would saddle and mount his horse, he would listen at a key-hole if he heard noises in another room, and, if he entered his billiard-room, he would seem to be playing with the cue. On returning to his bed, he usually slept for ten hours after his walk. Tickling would always rouse him.
In a Gazette of Augsburg, I have read this sad story: “Dresden was the theatre of a melancholy spectacle on the 20th ult. As early as seven in the morning a female was seen walking on the roof of one of the loftiest houses in the city, apparently occupied in preparing some ornaments as a Christmas present. The house stood as it were alone, being much higher than those adjoining it, and to draw her from her perilous situation was impossible. Thousands of spectators had assembled in the streets. It was discovered to be a handsome girl, nineteen years of age, the daughter of a master baker, possessing a small independence bequeathed to her by her mother. She continued her terrific promenade for hours, at times sitting on the parapet and dressing her hair. The police came to the spot, and various means of preservation were resorted to. In a few minutes the street was thickly strewn with straw, and beds were called for from the house, but the heartless father, influenced by the girl’s stepmother, refused them. Nets were suspended from the balcony of the first floor, and the neighbours fastened sheets to their windows. All this time the poor girl was walking in perfect unconsciousness, sometimes gazing toward the moon, and at others singing or talking to herself. Some persons succeeded in getting on the roof, but dared not approach her for fear of the consequences if they awoke her. Towards eleven o’clock she approached the very verge of the parapet, leaned forwards, and gazed upon the multitude beneath. Every one felt that the moment of the catastrophe had arrived. She rose up, however, and returned calmly to the window by which she had got out. When she saw there were lights in the room she uttered a piercing shriek, which was reechoed by thousands below, and fell dead into the street.”
Such would have been the result, according to poetical justice, in the beautiful romance of “La Sonnambula.” Had Amina been awakened while she was descending, she would probably have toppled down headlong!
EV. Custom would render these wakings less formidable perhaps. There was a family alluded to by Dr. Willis, in which the father and many sons jostled each other nightly in their sleep-walk. This was probably but a cheerful recognition and to sleep again.
In Fraser’s Magazine is recorded a very curious story of this sort. If I remember right, an individual had the mortification of discovering every morning when he awoke, that the shirt in which he had slept was gone. Some trick was supposed to have been played upon him by an inmate of the house; and, thinking that the practical joke would soon be abandoned, he went on day after day, till his stock of linen was completely exhausted. The individuals of the family were now anxiously examined, but no tidings of the stray linen could be obtained. It was at last suspected that some depredator had entered the house and unswathed his sleeping victim, and a strict watch was made on the following night. At a suitable hour the somnambulist was seen to quit his bed, to pass through a skylight window to the roof of the house, to enter by another window a garret that was always locked, and to return _shirtless to his lair_. The garret was examined, and the thousand and one shirts were found carefully wrapped up and deposited in a pyramid.
Something like this is the story of the spectre of Tappington, in the Ingoldsby legends.
The actions, therefore, unlike the ideas of a dream, are often neither heterogeneous nor inconsistent, and it is astonishing to observe the exactness with which the work is executed.
Dr. Pritchard tells the case of a farmer who arose, saddled his horse, and rode to market in his sleep: the Archbishop of Bordeaux the case of a student, who composed both theological essays and music thus unconsciously.
Now if the dreamer be awakened, he will relate the circumstances of his dream clearly; but the somnambulist, if roused, will generally express himself unconscious of what he intended, or of what he had done. It is, by the bye, often dangerous, on another account, to wake the sleep-walker; indeed, we have recorded the case of a young lady who was walking in a garden in her sleep; she was awoke, and almost instantly died.
But in some future somnambulism the same actions will be again performed unheeded. And if there be memory of the sleep-walk, the somnambulist, I believe, always relates his actions as the mere _ideas of a dream_, and is long a sceptic of the _fact_, even if there are visible signs of his exertions.
CAST. _I_ can illustrate this question from the recollection and knowledge of an ancestor of my own. Early on a morning, an immense number of foot-prints were observed by the men about a gate (on a farm in Sussex), which were not there _overnight_. On their return the servant girl was relating her _dream_; that she was told the cows had got into a wrong field, and that she had gone out, opened the gate, and driven them back. And I remember reading that a young gentleman of Brenstein was seen to rise, get out of his window on the roof, and take a brood of young magpies from their nest, and wrap them in his cloak. He then returned quietly to his bed, and in the morning _related his dream_, to his two brothers. They had slept with him, and had witnessed this feat, of which he would not be persuaded until they showed him the birds in his cloak.
I interrupt you, Evelyn.
EV. It is evident, as in dreams, and in rare cases of disease, that the mind of the somnambulist is often a contrast to its waking faculty. The memory will leap over intervals. Dr. Dyce records an illustration of this. A girl, _in a state of somnambulism_, was taken to church, and wept at the subject of the sermon. She never adverted to this impression when she awoke; nor could she be brought to recollect it until, in her _next sleeping paroxysm_, she spoke of it distinctly.
In delirium, also, we see these intervals of thought. The patient will commence a subject in the delirious state; when this has subsided, the subject is dropped. In the _next attack_ of delirium it will again be started, ay, and at the very point, even _the word itself_, at which it was broken off.
We read, in an American journal, that a man, previous to an attack of mania which lasted _several years_, had placed his work tools in the hollow of a tree. To them no allusion was made during the period of his disorder. When, however, this passed off, he directed his son to fetch them, believing that he left them _only yesterday_.
In the same book, too, we learn of that lady who became maniacal as she was engaged in needle-work. For seven years she thought not of this; but directly she recovered, she asked for her needle-work and canvass. The same may occur in intoxication also, which _is_ but another form of delirium. In Mr. Combe’s work we are told of a drunken man who left a parcel at a wrong house. When _sober_, he recollected nothing of the circumstance; but when _again intoxicated_, he soon remembered his error, and reclaimed the parcel.
ASTR. These cases form high contrasts with Hamlet’s proof of insanity:
——“Bring me to the test,
And I the matter will reword, which madness
Wou’d gambol from.”
EV. Yet if you analyze their nature you will find them even _proofs_ of derangement; for you thus see that the faculty of memory is changed according to the state of mind. In the following case, by Dr. Abercrombie, we shall find the same variation in impression and taste. A girl, in her early youth, expressed her abhorrence of tunes played on the violin, which she termed a _discordant fiddle_. She was after this introduced into more refined society, and became a somnambulist. During her paroxysm she imitated the _beautiful airs_ which she said she had formerly heard on this same violin.
Lieutenant C—— was once my patient, and died a maniac. The insanity arose from thwarted ambition, and was confirmed by his notion that he had seen his death-fetch. For some time he walked and talked in his sleep; subsequently he would walk for an hour round the table unconsciously. In him, too, was this change of feeling. He once talked little, and cared less for his child; but now he would caress it fondly, and expressed the deepest anxiety for it. It was difficult to decide, at times, whether this gentleman was awake or not; indeed, these states of mania, which have been termed “melancholia errabunda” by Bellini and Montalti, are closely allied to somnambulism, for the walker is absorbed in deep thought, and totally unconscious of his actions. And the analogy appears to have been recognised by the law. It is well known that the brother of Lord Colepeper, who was a great dreamer and somnambulist, shot a guardsman and his horse. He was found guilty; but he was pardoned on the ground of his complete _unconsciousness_ in his somnambulism.
We do not wonder more to see the perfection with which these unconscious labours of the somnambulist are performed, than at the ease and power which is evinced, and the very slight fatigue which ensues; although the occupation might have been most laborious.
As in _chorea_ the most delicate girls will dance incessantly for twenty-four hours, resting merely for one sole hour; and yet they will sit down perfectly cool and free from fatigue.
IDA. Is it not wonderful that the somnambulist will incur great dangers with complete _sang-froid_? They will walk over
——“Torrents roaring loud,
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear;”
or scale the gigantic precipice, the mere contemplation of which would fright their mind from its propriety, when awake. I remember to have read of a French Jew, who walked by chance across a dangerous pass over a brook, _in the dark_, without the slightest fear or harm. The next day, perceiving what danger he had incurred, he fell down dead.
EV. It is equally curious that a concentration of nervous energy, which is here the result of unconsciousness, should also be produced _by_ fear in some cases, which, in others, _paralyses_; but this is indeed a slight degree of heroism, or energy of despair. Thus we leap far higher, and run much faster, when danger threatens, than we could believe.
These are all very apt illustrations of somnambulism. I will check myself in quotations of more, as the phenomena may closely resemble each other.
But what is its philosophy, and how can I venture on its explanation, which involves the most intricate pathology of the nervous system? unless, with the self-complacency of quaint old Burton, I cut the Gordian knot by this affirmation,—“There is nothing offends but a concourse of bad humours, which trouble the phantasy. These vapours move the phantasy, the phantasy the appetite, which, moving the animal spirits, causeth the body to walk up and down, as if it were awake.”
Thus much I may expound to you, if I am again allowed to run up our scientific scale. The philosophy of the dream and of incubus refers to the activity of the brain with a _passive_ body; for somnambulism, we require an _active_ body, with an _unconscious_ brain.
Now there are _four_ sources of nervous influence:—the brain and _cerebellum_, within the skull; the marrow in the spinal canal; and the nervous bundles in the large cavities, termed _ganglia_.
It is on the independent or unconscious function of the marrow, chiefly, that those mysterious actions, which do not seem to be willed by a conscious mind, depend.
In the day-dream, a thought or form shall present itself, even at a time when the mind is employed on subjects of a contrasted nature. These thoughts, or forms, are usually fraught with a high degree of pleasure or of pain, or refer to events of vital importance, to the dreamer;—such are the objects of the lover’s idolatry, the anticipation of misfortune, or subjects of prospective felicity. Under this excitement, the influence of external objects is often for a time lost; the _retina_ may be struck by a ray, or the _membrana tympani_ by a vibration, but the mind shall fail in its perception,—no _internal_ impression being made. This cannot arise from a point of the _retina_, or the expansion of the auditory nerve being pre-occupied, as some have supposed. The idea of material impression must fail in explanation; for, on the instant that the mind is awakened, the external impression is again perceived. The external sense, in this case, is not in fault; nor is its direct influence on the _sensorium_ suspended; for we find that a person will continue to read in this state, as it were _mechanically_; but the attention is _diverted_ by deep thought, so that the reader, at the end of his task, may have no remembrance of what he has been reading.
Let me tell of a curious little episode of Dr. Darwin’s, which will aid me in my illustration. A young lady was playing on the piano a very elaborate piece of music. It was correctly and scientifically performed, although she was agitated during her task; and when it was over, the lady burst into tears. She had been watching all the time a favourite canary in the fluttering of death; and with this catastrophe her _mind_ was almost wholly occupied, but her _fingers_ did not err in their complicated and delicate motions, which they undoubtedly would have done, if the will or mind alone had directed them.
In sanity of mind, and in mania, the most philosophical distinction is based on the _health_ or _disease_ of memory. The ecstacy of madness may not seem perhaps more irrational than an ecstatic vision, but the maniac will not re-word the matter; whereas the mere visionary will repeat the action of the trance as a dream.
ASTR. But there is a sort of somnambulism the reverse of this. In the retreat to Corunna, many of the soldiers, although exhausted by a long march, and having actually fallen asleep, continued to move forwards, leaving their companions behind, who halted and laid down to repose.
EV. This is the _continued association_ of that excitement which has produced muscular motion. The mind was exhausted and sleepy, the brain was inert; but we believe that the spinal marrow does, of itself, effect motion, while the will and consciousness sleep; and we may also _stand_ and sleep. These soldiers did not walk in their sleep, but slept in their walk.
ASTR. I am informed, too, that Richard Turpin, in allusion to his famous flight to York, asserted that Black Bess appeared to gallop unconsciously.
EV. It is true; and when we reflect on this gigantic feat, we may suppose that the mare gallopped the farther, because her _consciousness of fatigue was not awake_, and her muscular energy was thus concentrated.
Paralyzed muscles will often quiver when the sound limb is quiet; the brain’s influence being, in this case too, inert, sensation is diminished; but _involuntary_ motion continues from a habit in the muscle, or the excitement of unexhausted irritability, as in _chorea_, spasm, &c. And in some cases of _post mortem_ galvanism, Dr. Dunbar, of Virginia, passed the _galvanic aura_ along the _ulnar_ nerve of an executed negro, and the fingers instantly quivered, and assumed the attitude and action of one playing on a flute or the strings of a violin.
ASTR. It is possible, then, to move without our _willing_ to do so, or being conscious of our act.
EV. There are believed to be, indeed it is almost a demonstration,—_four sets of nerves_, traced along the spinal marrow. Two to the brain, of _sensation_ and _volition_, by which the mind feels what the body touches, and transmits its will to the muscles; two others to the marrow, by which _it_ also is stimulated by outward touch, and by which _it_ excites the muscles to motion.
Now when the brain’s influence is kept from muscle, that muscle will still possess _irritability_, derived from the spinal marrow; nay, that irritability will be greater, _because it has not been expended_ by the acts of that volition, which resides solely in the brain, and which is now cut off. Thus the _excito-motory_ function, and the influence of volition, are in these cases _antagonists_. And this principle of the _incident_ and _reflex spinal_ nerve is an explanation of the curious dilemma, regarding the suspension of the will in sleep and dream, to which Dr. Stewart alludes.—“Not a suspension of volition, but only of _its influence_ over those organs, which it moves when we are awake.” Decide for yourselves between the physical and metaphysical theories.
Yet, do you not see that all this does not essentially require the direction of mind? If you tickle the palm of a sleeping child, it will close its hand upon your finger; if you awake it, and _engage its attention, it will often leave its hold_. This is a fact proved by the _anencephalous_ or brainless children. Even the puppy, deprived of its brain, and also the _mammary fœtuses_ of the kangaroo and opossum, fix eagerly on the nipple when it touches their lips. There is a beautiful mechanism in the foot of the roosting birds, adapted to this physiological law. The tendon of the claws is tightened immediately they are touched, by which action they contrive to grasp the bough or perch even when asleep. In cases of _paralysis_ even, the foot will sometimes be instantly drawn up, although it does not possess the least sensation; we may assert, then, that irritability is in an _inverse ratio_ to sensibility.
The _polype_, in which we trace no brain or nerve, exists and moves by its irritability, and without sensation or consciousness. We know also that the _vis insita_, or _vis nervosa_ of a muscle, that is, its irritability, exists even after the animal life has ceased. The turtle will live and move long after its brain has been removed. The heart itself, an involuntary muscle, is stimulated also to action without sensation. The heart of the assassin, Bellingham, beat long after he was cut from the gallows.
If I have made these things clear, I am now prepared to explain, with some anticipation, those two curious contrasts, somnambulism and incubus. If the spinal or motive nerves be asleep, and the cerebral or intellectual, or volition nerves, awake, we shall have night-mare; if, on the contrary, the motive nerves are in excess, beyond the sensiferous or volition nerves, we have sleep-walking.
ASTR. I believe the philosophy of Leibnitz affirms _two_ perceptions; one with, and another without, consciousness. I do not recollect if he distinguishes the _seat_ of these _perceptions_; but, if the brain be that which perceives, I presume consciousness will follow that perception sometimes in so slight a degree as not to excite judgment or reflection. Am I correct?
EV. You have adopted the common error of metaphysicians. If, in the abstraction of waking moments, some persons talk to themselves, as it were unconsciously, so, from the _reflex_ influence, may volition and motion occur, with as little self-feeling. That the _immediate_ impression, however, and a necessity of action, may combine, is illustrated by Dr. Beattie’s case of the officer who could be thus excited in his sleep. By a whisper in his ear, he was induced to go through the whole ceremony of a duel, and did not completely wake until the report of his pistol roused him. This gentleman was also told that he had fallen overboard, and he began to imitate the motions of swimming; then that a shark was following him, when he would dive off his couch upon the floor; and when he was told that the battle was raging around him, he proved himself an arrant coward by running away.
Somnambulism may be induced by congestion or irritation of _that point_ where the _incident_ nerve blends with the _grey matter_ of the spinal marrow, producing internal irritation, as the tickling of the foot does through the _cutaneous_ nerves of a senseless limb.
CAST. We are thankless creatures, dear Evelyn, but all this reiteration bewilders me, does it not you, Ida? Yet, in my simplicity, I can but think it unphilosophical entirely to disregard the _will_ as the spring of our actions.
EV. If I must EXPLAIN, fair lady, I cannot avoid prolixity. But to your question I will answer, no; for somnambulism _may be excited_ by the _memory of an intention_. In the experiment made by the committee of the physical society of Lausanne, on the Sieur Devaud, of Vevay, it was proved that on the evening before the fit of somnambulism, his head was heavy, and he had a sense of oppression on his eye-lids. If, at this time, the mind was impressed by some legend, or story, or incident, the actions of the sleep-walk were perfectly _coincident with such a subject_. If a romantic tale of banditti were related, his alarm would be apparent in his subsequent sleep. In this somnambulist was beautifully illustrated the effect of permanent impression on the brain, rendering, for a time, the sense of vision useless; for having once perused his paper, it was so imprinted on his mind, that the _exact_ spot for each letter was _exactly_ fixed on _by the finger_. And we have heard of one more interesting case, in which the somnambule, remembering that he had made errors in his writing, traced, on a blank paper substituted for that written on, the corrections, _in the very places corresponding to the erroneous writing_. And that here was memory was proved in this, that during the time his eyes were shut, the pen was dropped on the _very spot_ where the inkstand stood; but this being removed, no ink was obtained, and the writing was blank.
Now we believe that there are certain vessels which contribute to nervous energy, perhaps by secreting a nervous fluid in the brain, or by concentrating electricity, which Dr. Faraday believes may constitute the _animal_ portion of the nervous system. This influence may be profusely accumulated in a waking state; the resolution to act has been formed; or, there may be a rapid production in sleep of this energy. Then, when sleep occurs, _this impression becomes uncontrolled_. The third form of insanity of Spurzheim, irresistibility, exists, and the night-walk takes place. And indeed it may form an interesting analogy to that satiety of the voluptuary, “Childe Harold,”
“Who e’en for change of scene wou’d seek the shades below,”
and to one unhallowed story related in “Salmonia.”
From this excess there is the stimulus of _pain to move_; one of the most powerful motives of human action. Cardan, if we may believe in his “Opera et Vita,” was at least a monomaniac; and he “was wont instinctively, as it were, to relieve this tendency of his mind by the excitement of bodily pain.” I may assure you that I have, during my professional studies, often witnessed (and indeed have sometimes suggested) a remedy on this knowledge: you may be aware, that a severe and painful disorder will mitigate, if not entirely dissipate, that apathetic misery which springs from a vacant or unoccupied mind.
In contrasting childhood and age, we witness these curiosities in the restless activity of youth and early manhood, for at these periods we are very constant somnambulists; not so in the passive state of old age, in which sleep-walking is very rare. Something of this we see also in the _growing pains_ and _fidgets_ of girls and those whose duties are sedentary. Exercise is the relief for all this.
Now when the sleep-walk has exhausted this excess of irritability or electricity (if it be so), the dreamer returns to bed and sleep. A hint is here thrown out to us, that if powerful exertion be employed previous to sleep, the night-walk might not ensue. Lethargy often terminates in somnambulism.
If I may for another moment still prose over the intricate, but deeply interesting question of the pathology of somnambulism, I will observe, that we often find it one symptom of madness or idiocy, and we know that somnambulism not seldom terminates in epilepsy.
In the brains of epileptic idiots, who are very determined somnambulists, we discover changes the most various; _effusion_, _congestion_, _ossification of membranes_, _ramollissement_, _indurcissement_, bony _spiculæ_, or points pressing the brain, _tubercles_, _cysts_. In some, the skull assumes the density of ivory. Yet in those persons who have been known to be sleep-walkers, the inspection is seldom satisfactory. _Plethora_ of the head has often, however, preceded the sleep-walk. Signor Pozzi, physician to Benedict XIV., if he submitted not to depletion each second month, became a somnambulist; and we have known that in _chorea, previous to the dance_, and in some cases of somnambulism also, pain has been felt from the _occiput_ along the course of the _spinal marrow_. This is from immediate excitement; but _dyspepsia_ and other _abdominal derangements_ may so influence the _ganglia_ and _nerves of organic life_, and through them the brain and cord, as to excite sleep-walking by _remote_ sympathy.
That injuries of the nervous matter about the nape of the neck are of the highest importance in our studies of these eccentric actions, is certain. The experiments of Flourens show that the _progressive_ or _forward_ motion of animals, is influenced by varied states of the _cerebellum_. When Majendie cut through the _corpora striata_, the animal darted forward; when the _pons Varolii_ was cut, the animal rolled over sixty times in a minute.
When a soldier is struck by a ball about the _cervical vertebræ_, he often springs from the ground and drops dead.
It is our duty, then, not to slight the condition of the somnambulist. If _simple irritation_ be its exciting cause, much benefit may be derived from _counter-action_ on the surface, and other remedial means. Even if there be _diseased structure_, some palliation may be afforded. As preventives of the fit, we may inculcate an abstinence from late meals, exercise in the evening previous to retirement to rest, a high pillow, &c.
If the propensity continue in spite of our efforts, it will be right to have the windows fastened or locked, and the door of the chamber bolted _without_; or to confine the ankle or wrist to the bed-post by a long fillet, which may by its detention awake the sleeper on starting from the bed.
IMITATIVE MONOMANIA.
“Men, wives, and children, stare, cry out, and run,
As it were doomsday.”
JULIUS CÆSAR.
There are other very curious analogies of somnambulism, which are marked by a power of action that appears preternatural. And here again we witness the irresistibility of motion, which seems to subvert the laws of gravitation and the principles of mechanics. The involuntary twitchings and contortions of _St. Vitus’s dance_ present the slighter form of these eccentric actions, which, in the intense degree, become like the fury of a raving maniac.
In young girls there often is a proneness to be excited by slight causes,—to be startled by mere trifles.
Savarry tells us of a man who, at two o’clock each day, was irresistibly impelled to rap at doors and make very odd noises, and felt intense pleasure in doing this. If this had occurred in the night, it would have been termed somnambulism.
Gall also relates of a young man at Berlin, who, after rolling about in his bed for some time, and jumping out and in repeatedly in his sleep, at last started up awake, astonished at the crowd around his bed. And Dr. Darwin writes of a boy, nine years old, who went through a course of gymnastics, with an occasional song between the acts. At length he seemed bursting, and soon sank down in a stupor.
ASTR. I have read, (I think in Mezeray,) of an epidemic mania of this sort, in which the creatures tore off their clothes, and ran naked through the streets and churches, until they fell breathless on the ground. Some of them swelled even to _bursting_, unless they were bound down by cords. The disease was referred to the agency of demons, and treated by exorcisms; they even tore their flesh to free themselves from their possessing devils. I have seen also a confident story of some nuns, who jumped so high during an hysteric ecstacy, that they were at length seen to fly; in imitation, perhaps, of the Corybantes, the priests of Cybele, who, in the celebration of their mysteries, leaped and raved, like madmen in the midst of their shrieks and howlings.
EV. All these eccentricities amount to complete monomania for the time they last, and they are marked often by a very violent _imitative_ propensity; like the delirium which came upon the Abderites, on witnessing the performance of the “Andromeda” of Euripides, by Archelaüs. Of such nature was the “_dancing mania_” of the middle ages; the _tarantula_ of Apulia, in which melancholy was succeeded by madness; the feats of the _Jumpers_ of Cornwall, and the _Convulsionnaires_ of the Parisian miracles.
Yet with all this apparent violence, there might be a power of control by management. On some sudden and extreme mental influence, there was in the Maison de la Charité, at Haerlem, an infectious convulsion of this nature, so that the troop of little scholars, girls and boys, were a mere legion of dancing maniacs; and nothing appeared to relieve them, until a ruse of the physician Boërhave put to flight the illusion. With a solemn voice he pronounced, in the hearing of the little creatures, his decision that each of them should be burned to the bone of the arm with a red hot iron. From that moment the mania subsided.
Dr. Hecker, in his account of the _Dance_ of the middle ages, notices two forms of this national monomania:—“_Tarantulism_,” and the “_Danse de Saint Guy_.”
The first was marked by all sorts of illusions, demonomania, obscene dancing, groaning, and falling down senseless.
The persons who believed themselves bitten by the tarantula became sad and stupid. The flute or guitar alone could give them succour. At the sound of its music they awoke, as if by enchantment; their eyes opened, their movements, which at first slowly followed the music, gradually became animated, until they merged into an impassioned dance. To interrupt the music was disastrous:—the patients relapsed into their stupidity, until they became exhausted by fatigue. During the attacks, several singular idiosyncracies were manifested, contrary to what occurred in Germany. Scarlet was a favourite colour, though some preferred green or yellow. A no less remarkable phenomenon was their ardent longing for the sea; they implored to be carried to its shores, or to be surrounded by marine pictures; some even threw themselves into the waves. But the dominant passion was for music, though they varied in their particular tastes. Some sought the braying sound of the trumpet, others the softer harmony of stringed instruments.
There was once a woman of Piedmont who was charmed by the “capriccio,” played by the leader of an orchestra, into an ecstatic dance. In her, the sensations, as she expressed them, were so “strangely mingled,” as powerfully to illustrate the fine line of distinction between pleasure and pain. She gradually became weaker, and the memory of the music was so intense, that, while she was irresistibly impelled to this maniacal dance, her expressions were those of acute pain, and her cries were constantly of those “horrid sounds.” In six months, this unhappy creature died exhausted.
The _Tigretier_, of Abyssinia, is believed in Africa to be the effect of demoniac influence. Indeed there is in this strange state a complete metamorphosis of features, and voice, and manner. In the hearts, even of the women, the affections of nature and of attachment seem to be annihilated, and they seem overwhelmed by some oppressive weight, which is dissipated only by almost preternatural exertion, excited by the charm of music; in which wild dance the female is dressed in ornaments of silver, like the chiefs of battle. This maniac movement is often, I believe, kept up from early morning until sunset, ere the accumulation of energy is exhausted; and even then the woman will start off suddenly and outrun the fleetest hunter, until she drops as if dead. But it seems the climax of the cure is not complete, until she drops all her ornaments, and a matchlock is fired over her, when she owns her name and family, both having been previously denied. She is taken to the church and sprinkled with holy water, and then the spell is broken.
There is another strange monomania, an incitement to suicide, evinced in that loathsome disease of the Lombard and Venetian plains, _Pellagra_. The prevailing fashion is _drowning_; so that Strambi has termed this monomania, _water-madness_.
Others are driven on by still more horrible fancies. Thus _Grenier_ wrapped himself in a wolf-skin, and murdered young maids that he might devour them. And, among ourselves, the desire to _change the infant into a_ _cherub_, has led the wild fanatic to the murder of the innocents!
ASTR. This, I suppose, is _Lycanthropy_, or wolf-madness, on which old Burton so funnily expatiates; and to which the author of the old play of “Lingua” also points, alluding to the
“Thousand vain imaginations,
Making some think their heads as big as horses,
Some that they’re dead, some that they’re turned to wolves.”
In the woods of Limousin, in France, the belief in the power of changing from men to wolves is still prevalent. The _Loup-garoux_, or _Wehr-wolf_, was thought to have been in league with Satan.
In my wanderings through Poictou, these monsters seemed to me to confine their unholy powers to midnight prowling, and the wolf-howl. Yet Marie, in the “_Lai du Bisclavaret_,” endows them with the cannibalism of the goul and the vampire:
“So Garwal roams in savage pride,
And hunts for blood, and feeds on men;
Spreads dire destruction, far and wide,
And makes the forests broad his den.”
EV. The extraordinary effects of the instinct of imitation in spreading these epidemics, is but an example on the grand scale of what we see daily instances of in yawning, hiccoughing, coughing, and other similar acts, and in the propagation of _hysteria_ and _epilepsy_. Some persons, again, possess an irresistible tendency to imitate others in mere trifling things. Tissot relates a case of a female, who never could avoid doing _every thing she saw any one else do_. She was obliged to walk blindfolded in the streets; and, if you tied her hands, she experienced intolerable anguish until they were loosened. There was another girl, that was seen by Dr. Horn, at Salzburg, who sat _cross-legged_, like a hog. She had been brought up in a sty.
Even during the Commonwealth, the religious fanaticism of the Quakers carried the proselytes to such a pitch, that the preachers were thrown into excessive convulsions, and _seemed_ possessed of demons. The churches were broken into, and the ministers insulted and attacked in the pulpits. Chains, and locks, and the pillory, which were inflicted on these mad people, failed, as it might be expected, in restoring their senses, although they bore them with the most astonishing fortitude. In their worshipping, the same eccentricities were seen: after a deep and long silence, a number of the devotees rose at once, and declaimed. The presumptuous imitation of the Saviour was a favourite illusion; and the forty-days’ fast sometimes terminated in death. Naylor, convinced of his divine identity, rode in procession on a mule, while his deluded proselytes spread their garments, and sang Hosannas to him. Nay, the purity of the female mind was so grossly perverted, that a Quakeress walked naked into a church, before Cromwell, _as a sign to the people_!
There was a letter in an “Aberdeen Herald,” dated Invergordon, Sept. 9, 1840, from which I quote this story:
“I had the curiosity to go to the church of Roskeen, last night, to observe the _workings of a revival_. I was prepared for something extraordinary, but certainly not for what I saw. The sobs, groans, loud weeping, fainting, shrieking, mingled in the most wild and unearthly discordance with the harsh cracked voice of the clergyman, who could only at intervals be heard above the general weeping and wailing. I was struck by the cries being all from _young_ voices; and on examining a little more closely, I found that the performers were almost wholly children—girls, varying from five to fourteen years of age; a few young women, perhaps a dozen, but not a single man or lad. I stood for nearly half an hour by three girls, the eldest about twelve years of age, who were in the most utter distress, each vying with the other in despairing cries. Their mother came to them, but made no exertion to check their bursts of—I don’t know what to call it. In the church-yard there were lots of children in various stages of fainting. One poor girl seemed quite dead, and I insisted on one of the old crones, who was piously looking on, to go for some water, or to attempt something to give her relief, but was told, ‘It was no’ a case for water; it was the Lord, and he would do as he liked with her. She was seeing something we didna see, and hearing something we didna hear.’ She was lying on the ground, supported by her father. Indeed the poor ignorant parents have been worked upon until they believe they are highly honoured by the Lord, by having such signs of the Spirit manifested in their families. The service, if it may be called so, was in Gaelic.”
In the reign of the second George, Count Zinzendorf came from Germany and established the principles of the Hernhutters, or Moravians. These were debased by ceremonies, which they misnamed worship, of the most licentious character.
Like Mahomet, Zinzendorf proclaimed himself a prophet and a king, and in his presumption of an immediate appeal to, and answer from, the Saviour, in all matters of doubt, made a host of proselytes.
IDA. In our own day, another delirious profanation of the holy name of the Saviour has been exhibited, in the imitative monomania of _Sir William Courtenay_ (as he was called), in Kent. In May, 1838, this wild enthusiast (whose beauty of feature and expression closely resembled the paintings of Christ by Guido and Carlo Dolce, and who, to heighten this resemblance, wore his hair and beard in a peculiar form, and clothed himself in a robe) gained by his art numerous disciples in Kent, who implicitly believed his divine nature and mission. His career was, however, soon closed in a very awful and bloody tragedy—the death of himself, of many of his _followers_, and of the military who were called out to secure him. His _disciples_, to the last, not only believed in his divine nature, but even after his interment were watching _in implicit belief of his approaching resurrection_!
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The Philosophy of MysteryChapter XI: Part 11
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