Vampyre' and Other Writings

by Polidori, John William; Bishop, Franklin Charles;

  The time had nearly elapsed, when, upon the last day of the year, one of his guardians entering into his room, began to converse with his physician upon the melancholy circumstance of Aubrey’s being in so awful a situation, when his sister was going next day to be married. Instantly Aubrey’s attention was attracted; he asked anxiously to whom. Glad of this mark of returning intellect, of which they feared he had been deprived, they mentioned the name of the Earl of Marsden. Thinking this was a young Earl whom he had met in society, Aubrey seemed pleased, and astonished them still more by expressing his intention to be present at the nuptials, and by desiring to see his sister. They answered not, but in a few minutes his sister was with him. He was apparent again of being affected by the influence of her lovely smile; for he pressed her to his breast, and kissed her cheek, wet with tears, flowing at the thought of her brother’s being once more alive to the feelings of affection. He began to speak with all his wonted warmth, and to congratulate her upon her marriage with a person so distinguished for rank and every accomplishment; but he suddenly perceived a locket upon her breast; having opened it, what was his surprise at beholding the features of the monster who had so long influenced his life. He seized the portrait in a paroxysm of rage, and trampled it under foot. Upon her asking him, why he thus destroyed the resemblance of her future husband, he looked as if he did not understand her – then seizing her hands, and gazing on her with a frantic expression of countenance, he bade her swear that she would never wed this monster, for he – But he could not continue – it seemed as if that voice bade him remember his oath – he turned suddenly round, thinking Lord Ruthven was near him but he saw no one. In the meantime the guardians and physicians, who had heard the whole, and thought this was but a return of his disorder, entered, and forcing him from Miss Aubrey, desired her to leave him. He fell upon his knees to them, he implored, he begged of them to delay but for one day. They, attributing this to the insanity, they imagined had taken possession of his mind, endeavoured to pacify him, and retired.

  Lord Ruthven had called the morning after the drawing-room, and had been refused with every one else. When he heard of Aubrey’s ill health, he readily understood himself to be the cause of it; but, when he learned that he was deemed insane, his exultation and pleasure could hardly be concealed from those, among whom he had gained this information. He hastened to the house of his former companion, and, by constant attendance, and the pretence of great affection for her brother and interest in his fate, he gradually won the ear of Miss Aubrey. Who could resist his power? His tongue had dangers and toils to recount – could speak of himself as of an individual having no sympathy with any being on the crowded earth, save with her, to whom he addressed himself; – could tell how, since he knew her, his existence had begun to seem worthy of preservation, if it were merely that he might listen to her soothing accents. – In fine, he knew so well how to use the serpent’s art, or such was the will of fate, that he gained her affections. The title of the elder branch falling at length to him, he obtained an important embassy, which served as an excuse (in spite of her brother’s deranged state,) for hastening the marriage, which was to take place the very day before his departure for the continent.

  Aubrey, when he was left by the physician and his guardians, attempted to bribe the servants, but in vain. He asked for pen and paper; it was given him; he wrote a letter to his sister, conjuring her, as she valued her own happiness, her own honour, and the honour of those now in the grave, who once held her in their arms as their hope and the hope of their house, to delay but for a few hours that marriage, on which he denounced the most heavy curses. The servants promised they would deliver it; but giving it to the physician, he thought it better not to harass any more the mind of Miss Aubrey by, what he considered, the ravings of a maniac. Night passed on without rest to the busy inmates of the house; and Aubrey heard, with a horror that may more easily be conceived than described, the notes of busy preparation. Morning came, and the sound of carriages broke upon his ear. Aubrey grew almost frantic. The curiosity of the servants at last overcame their vigilance, they gradually stole away, leaving him in the custody of an helpless old woman. He seized the opportunity, with one bound was out of the room, and in a moment found himself in the apartment where all were nearly assembled. Lord Ruthven was the first to perceive him: he immediately approached, and, taking his arm by force, hurried him from the room, speechless with rage. When on the staircase, Lord Ruthven whispered in his ear – ‘Remember your oath, and know, if not my bride today, your sister is dishonoured. Women are frail!’ So saying, he pushed him towards his attendants, who, roused by the old woman, had come in search of him. Aubrey could no longer support himself: his rage not finding vent, had broken a blood-vessel, and he was conveyed to bed. This was not mentioned to his sister, who was not present when he entered, as the physician was afraid of agitating her. The marriage was solemnised, and the bride and bridegroom left London.

  Aubrey’s weakness increased; the effusion of blood produced symptoms of the near approach of death. He desired his sister’s guardians might be called, and, when the midnight hour had struck, he related composedly the substance of what the reader has perused – and died immediately after.

  The guardians hastened to protect Miss Aubrey; but when they arrived, it was too late. Lord Ruthven had disappeared, and Aubrey’s sister had glutted the thirst of a VAMPYRE!

  from A Medical Inaugural Dissertation which deals with the disease called Oneirodynia, for the degree of Medical Doctor, Edinburgh 1815

  (translated from the original Latin)

  This thesis, which I am writing on the very obscure disease oneirodynia, I will divide, for the sake of clarity, into several sections. For in medicine I hardly think it is open to doubt that only clinical practice can be the basis of theories. In fact all that exists in the physical body, the feelings and the activities of external bodies are so obscure that, it seems, the task of understanding the fundamental causes still lies before us.

  On Oneirodynia. A general overview

  The expression oneirodynia is a composite of the Greek words oneiros and duno and means walking while one is dreaming. If I were seeking to define the disease, I would say that these patients exhibit a certain tendency to do while sleeping, that which more commonly occurs in those who are awake.

  Cullen divides the disease into two types: one, as activity and the impulse towards walking and various movements, and the second, the patient’s being burdened by the sensation that the chest is being compressed by a dead weight. For the type arises not from a disorder of the mind but from a physical lesion of the heart, as a result of water pressing on a particular part of the thoracic viscera.

  Many are the kinds of actions which this disease impels people to do. Some discuss everything that has happened on a particular day. Others reply to the questions of their friends and they discourse on a given topic in its appropriate context. Others draw their swords and clash them. Others discharge their firearms as if attacking bandits, not without great concern to bystanders and at great personal risk. Others again light lamps, put on their clothes, look for their keys, take wine and drink uproariously. Others rise from their beds and wander over roofs, fall into rivers, find themselves in difficult places or at great heights, from where no sane person would dare to follow them without compelling reasons, and do all this as if the danger were minimal. Such people return safely unless they are woken up. But if anyone is so rash as to wake them up, or if they were in the process of waking from sleep, they die headlong by their own hand.

  For those who suffer from oneirodynia, I grant that all the channels have been opened to various senses. Nevertheless, it seems that they do not possess any sensations apart from those that relate directly to the action they are performing. Many seem to have their eyes open all the time but the majority do not make use of them. However, others have their eyes closed all the time as if in sleep. But what is more remarkable is that they retain all their memory of whate
ver they had done up to their last paroxysm, and yet, when they wake up, they remember nothing of it. Hence the process of cognition and of conscious memory appears to be dual, one faculty sleeping while the other is awake.

  On the cause of oneirodynia

  It is possible to state, if you will, three causes for the disease, namely proximate, remote, and predisposing causes. The proximate cause is that from which the disease itself arises immediately. The remote cause is that which comes before it. The predisposing cause is that which makes human beings susceptible to a particular illness.

  The predisposing or determining causes are alcoholism, excessive eating, foodstuffs causing flatulence, an excess of clothing, poor posture, lying supine, study, the usage of opium, and everything, which propels blood to the brain.

  Preface to two case histories of the disease

  There are many remarkable accounts of those who suffer from oneirodynia. So I will choose just two examples, one with the authority of the Bishop of Burgundy as published in the French methodical Encylopaedia, and the other from my paternal uncle Aloysius Polidori, MD, PhD, which was delivered to the Royal Society of Medicine in London.

  First case report. Description of raging convulsive oneirodynia, by Aloysius Eustace Polidori, MD, Ph.D

  A twelve-year-old boy, whose mother was afflicted by recurrent headaches, and whose aunt was susceptible to epileptic seizures, was admitted at the beginning of February 1793. He would be overcome by chronic convulsions, or tremors, of the knees.

  After bloodletting had been instituted and cathartic medicaments administered, he received baths from communal water-source and anthelmintic remedies, and each day ate Peruvian bark in water. From that time his condition improved intermittently. The symptoms often and uncontrollably recurred and receded, immediately to be followed by constriction of the throat, obstruction of swallowing, with the boy turning spasmodically, leaping, singing, behaving aggressively, and crying out in fear even when he was touched very gently.

  Once again, on the 25th day of June I was called out to the boy just after nightfall and found him lying in bed. He recognised me just as he did the other people who were present. When I asked him how he was, he replied that his hips and thighs were hurting a good deal, and that this was most severe when palpated. I made further examination and two or three times observed that when his pulse faded and became muffled, the lower limbs would knock against each other. After a very brief kind of sleep he began to gesticulate and emitted babbling words with a gentle sound and happy expression. A servant was present, and when the boy became aware of his presence he began to throw punches at him. After a while he belaboured all who were in the way with a cushion and with punches. The symptoms of hysteria and spasm invariably would precede oneirodynia.

  So much for Aloysius Polidori. It now remains for me to make a number of remarks on this case history. In the case of the boy the illness clearly arose from an affection of the brain, since they were attacked by spasms from the outset. On the one hand, the nature of this affliction of the brain is beyond our current knowledge. I consider that the illness has its origin not in an organic lesion of the brain but from a serious over stimulation of the brain and nervous system. Treatment of this illness is agreed to be left to nature. Indeed I believe that the sick person recovered when camphor was used as symptoms of excitability began to occur, with acquiescence of nature.

  The Second Case History, from the French Encyclopaedia

  When the Archbishop of Burgundy was at the seminary, he reports that he saw a certain priest who was suffering from oneirodynia, and who often used to go into his bedroom and to this and other things, and thus he became curious to ascertain the manifestations of this disease.

  The priest would wander from his bed, take up a piece of paper, write sermons, and read over each pages as soon as he had written it – if with closed eyes can be said to be reading. The archbishop averred that one of his sermons was reasonably elegant and well composed.

  Observations on the second case history

  It is possible to argue that he had such a vivid imagination that he indeed retained the things imprinted on his imagination without the use of his eyes.

  The rationale of the symptoms

  The first thing which is self-explanatory is the state of mind and body of the patient suffering from oneirodynia, which I will explain, beginning with a definition of sleep. Sleep is that state of mind in which there is no conscious thought or, if there is such, it proceeds only from memory or from a connexion of ideas, with the physical senses almost entirely displaced.

  Oneirodynia differs from sleep in this respect only, namely that the mind is in operation with a more vivid memory and that the other physical organs are predisposed to gain impressions, while others are switched off. And, if one may say so, oneirodynia is identical to the sleeping state, as anger or some other disturbance is to the waking state, for in both the mind and body are applied to one thing so that external stimuli arouse no sensory input. It is easy to explain how it happens that the mind is affected only by those things pertaining to the matter being thought about, if we keep in mind that the mind cannot proceed on two tracks at the same time, and that, when the patient does think about a particular thing he is nevertheless distracted from it by a stimulus to the mind. Thus, when the patient does something, he does it with such care that the mental affliction increases by the use of the faculties. Thus when the patient does something, he does it so attentively that the affliction of the mind is superior to ordinary stimuli. The senses whose work it is to explore the object of thought, however, are open to the smallest influences, which also happens in waking states when the mind is occupied, for we see that the more intent we are on something, the more the senses we have used to examine it are sharpened, and our other senses are more and more benumbed.

  We see sleepwalkers who, as soon as they see something, retain such a memory that they are able to retrieve it readily even when it is displaced. But how can one explain the fact that they have a dual memory? Even though I have no real facts, I shall offer a hypothesis. Perhaps those who suffer from oneirodynia fall into that which is connected with the other preceding paroxysm, and fall victim again. If I may put it, you inhabit during sleep a state of imagination, which does not last longer than sleep itself, and the cause of which people remember nothing when they are awake.

  We do not find it difficult, if we turn it over in our mind, to explain how someone can feel the cold so acutely that he believes himself to have been plunged into icy water, because this phenomenon is an everyday occurrence. As the mind is capable of concentrating on one matter at the same time, it does not feel the cold except when the mind is focussed on it. But if one thinks a great deal about it, one is troubled by cold very acutely indeed. Neither is this refuted by the fact that sufferers from oneirodynia are able to write and correct without the use of sight, but the sense of sight can be replaced, as in blind people, by the sense of touch. Oneirodynia is caused by hyper excitability.

  Treatment of the condition

  The general good health of most patients who suffer from oneirodynia is unimpaired, and there is no risk from this disease except when it leads patients into hazardous situations. Some authorities state that this disease sometimes induces catalepsy and mania. For this reason we do everything we can, but, as often happens, we do not know what makes the condition to become florid.

  There are two procedures, which ought to be implemented:

  1) to stop the presenting paroxysms, and

  2) to dispel the underlying symptoms

  In order first of all to fulfil the first of the criteria, we can remove only the predisposing factors. In the sleepwalker, intoxication, mental exertion, and other things that stimulate and then weaken the mind should be avoided. Perhaps a tonic should be administered, such as Portuguese bark, iron, and similar things.

  First of all, when the paroxysm occurs, the doors and windows should be shut, and other people should be kept out of the
way. Then the patient should be roused from sleep fearfully. Whipping, electricity, and cold baths, if they are so placed that the patient falls into them when he wanders from bed in his sleepwalking state, may inhibit the return of the paroxysms.

  from On the Punishment of Death

  (originally published in The Pamphleteer, 1816)

  For though, without doubt, England is the nation the most fortunate in its domestic government it is now the time to look to our laws of punishment and guilt, in those cases where death is ordained by our criminal code. A subject which every one must perceive requires strong attention and gradual reform. The multiplicity of crimes, the great number of those yearly condemned to death certainly point out the existence of some radical error in the very foundation of our criminal laws.

  Is it right to inflict death as do our laws for every petty offence? What hurt can one man inflict upon another, except murder, that can in justice require he should receive the most dreadful punishment man has in his power to ordain? No one will deny that punishment is necessary, but is it necessary that the punishment should breathe a spirit worse than the crime itself? Is it necessary that society should have murder on murder arranged in formidable array against it, for the smaller crimes of individuals of robbery and swindling? Let us consider the proportion of the punishment to the guilt, before we inflict the sentence. Acting as Christians, let us consider how great is our crime, if as the English law directs, we send men unshrived by repentance of their sins into another world in despair. They will step from this world into the next despairing and cursing their fellow-creatures, and we should have thoughts, which like corroding poison would work upon our peace, of having sent them for an eternity of pain into the deep, unconsumed, unconsuming abyss of fire. Even leaving out all religious views does it not strike us as out of all proportion? For having deprived another of a small sum we tear one from the bosom of his family for ever; we cast an unredeemable stain upon him, nay upon his innocent family, which if more mercy had been shown, he might have lived to wash away by tears and by deeds; but we rend him from all, consign his family, his posterity to ignominy, to shame, to want.