HOMIOIDE—E PILE P S Y. 
BY DR. I. RAY. HOMICIDE—EPILEPSY. 
DR. I. RAY. ' 
On the 29th of April last, George W. Winnemore 
was indicted' by the grand jury in Philadelphia, Pa., for 
the murder of Dorcas Magilton, on the 25th of April— 
four days before—and the third of May following was 
assigned for his trial, before the court of Oyer and Term- 
iner, Brewer and Pierce, associate justices. 
It appeared in evidence that the husband of the 
deceased came home one day, after an hour’s absence, 
and was let in by the prisoner, who said he had just 
before come in and found Mrs. M. with her throat cut, 
and quite dead. The prisoner went for a policeman 
and was himself arrested while leaving the premises, 
shortly after. The evidence against him was circum- 
stantial, of course, and consisted of but few facts: a 
razor identified as his was found in the privy; two bank 
bills of two dollars each were in the possession of the 
deceased the day before, and two bills of two dollars 
each were found in the prisoner’s pocket; and his own 
statement, that he entered the house a few minutes only 
previously to the husband, was disproved by two wit- 
nesses, neighbors, who had been looking in that direc- 
tion from their windows, steadily, for half an hour before 
they saw Mr. M. go to the door. To meet this evidence, 
the prisoner’s counsel contended that it was impossible 
to identify so common a thing as a razor, hundreds of 
thousands of which may be made after the same pattern; 2 
that, though the bills were of the same denomination, 
yet their identity was not established; that he was not 
pressed for money, and could have borrowed it from his 
brother if necessary; that he had never been guilty of 
any criminal act, and was regarded by all who knew 
him (and the evidence on this point was quite satisfac- 
tory,) as a quiet, inoffensive, well-disposed young man. 
The defence did not consist solely in an endeavor to 
prove an alibi. It appeared that the prisoner began to 
suffer from epilepsy at two or three years of age, and 
continued so to suffer until he was ten or eleven years 
old. Evidence respecting his disease subsequent to that 
period was entirely wanting, except that on his way to 
court one day, in the course of the trial, he had a fit. 
It appeared, too, that when seven years old he had a fall 
on the head, described as being a very serious one, and 
now indicated by a scar. The witnesses who testified 
to his having fits said he would sometimes have thirty 
or forty in a day. Of late years, his brother said, he 
professed to be able to see the dead as plainly as he saw 
the living. At times he imagined himself to be an In- 
dian chief, and would talk the Indian language. The 
language of the witness would seem to imply that this 
sort of clairvoyance was paroxysmal, because “ when I 
thought he was himself,” he said, “ I would ask him 
about it, and he would know nothing of it.” He also 
professed to be able to know what was going on miles 
away. His sister stated that at times, during the last 
eight or ten months, “ he acted very foolish,” “ would 
make motions with his hands, and talk strangely,” and 
that she was afraid to be alone with him. To another 
witness he seemed to talk very incoherently, saying, 
among other things, that he saw spirits about him the 
size of a pin’s head. His mother and elder sister both 
testified to strange manifestations during the last few 3 
months. The former said, “he would laugh, jerk about, 
make queer faces.” “ He would dance around the room 
like an Indian.” “ Sometimes his eye looked very vacant, 
sometimes very glassy.” “ I often felt afraid of him.” 
The sister said, “he would make peculiar grimaces, and 
twist his fingers in a peculiar manner.” “ I sometimes 
feared he would do me harm.” Others spoke of his being 
in an unconscious state half an hour at a time; add others 
of his being very absent-minded. It appeared that he 
had made two attempts, at least, upon his own life, and 
that an uncle had committed suicide. 
Upon this state of facts, the counsel set up the de- 
fense of insanity. Several physicians were examined, 
only one of whom could be regarded as an expert in 
insanity, but their testimony was not founded upon 
such a knowledge of the case, either in or par- 
ticular relations, as was needed to makeut very satisfac- 
tory. Their testimony was confined to some desultory 
remarks respecting the effect of epilepsy on the mind, 
but it embraced nothing like a complete methodical 
statement of facts. Indeed, the counsel for the govern- 
ment were not disposed to have it, and did what they 
could to prevent it. When the testimony referred to 
the nature of epilepsy generally, they interposed the 
objection that it had no connection with the prisoner’s 
case, and when it had special reference to the prisoner, 
it was stopped on the plea that the witness had not 
heard all the evidence in the case. No medical witness 
had made a particular examination of the prisoner, nor 
heard all the evidence given at the trial. The plea of 
insanity, thus feebly supported, could hardly be ex- 
pected to prevail, and accordingly the prisoner was 
convicted, and on the 29th of August was executed, 
persisting to the last in declaring that he did not com- 
mit the deed. 4 
The counsel, feeling that the trial had not been a fair 
one, endeavored to obtain a new trial, but failed. They 
then requested the Governor to appoint a medical com- 
mission for the purpose of investigating the prisoner’s 
mental condition, and in this too they failed. As a last 
resort, a few days before the execution they requested 
some medical men, who were familiar with epilepsy and 
insanity, to have a personal interview with the prisoner, 
the result of which was the following petition addressed 
to the Governor. 
To his Excellency, Jonx W. Geary : 
The undersigned, all of whom have been engaged for many years 
in the care of the insane, have, this day, at the request of Damon Y. 
Kilgore, had an interview with George W. Winnemore, and, in 
consequence thereof, beg leave to make the following statement: 
Winnemore now, and probably for some time past, shows indica- 
tions of an abnormal state of mind; of a mental condition wdiich 
may be attributable to the epileptic fits to which he lias been sub- 
ject from infancy. In regard to its degree and kind, we feel unable 
to speak exactly, because one interview, though prolonged to be- 
tween tAvo and three hours, was not sufficient for the purpose. 
We would also state, that epilepsy, especially when of long du- 
ration, oftener than otherwise impairs the mental powers, sometimes 
in one Avay, sometimes in another, and therefore, Avhenever an 
epileptic is charged with crime, nothing less than an exhaustive 
investigation of his history and of all the circumstances of the 
case, can remove the suspicion that the crime may ha\Te been com- 
mitted in one of those abnormal conditions that are so often the 
sequel of epilepsy. 
In consideration of these facts, therefore, we respectfully pray 
your Excellency to stay his execution for a few Aveeks, in order that 
a deliberate scientific investigation of Winnemore’s case may be 
made by the undersigned. 
ISAAC RAY, M. D., 
Late Superintendent of the Butler Hospital for the Insane, at Prov- 
idence, R. I. 
J. II. WORTHINGTON, M. D., 
Superintendent of Friends’ Asylum for the Insane, Philadelphia. 
S. PRESTON JONES, M. D., 
Assistant Physician Penn. Hospital for the Insane. 5 
In the interview referred to the prisoner was found 
to be a spare, slim young man, of a decidedly nervous 
temperament, with a quiet, ingenuous manner, and a 
cheerful expression. He was disposed to talk, and 
answered all inquiries freely and fully. His language 
was free from low, coarse expressions, and indicated 
some degree of intellectual culture. He showed a little 
carelessness of dress, and a certain kind of untidiness, 
very characteristic of some classes of the insane. 
He said he had always been an epileptic from his 
earliest recollection, the tits occurring sometimes several 
in the day, and sometimes at intervals of a twelve- 
month. They were generally brief, and within half an 
hour or so he was himself again. Occasionally he did 
not so readily recover, and was disabled for a week or 
two. He had no premonition of the attacks, though 
sometimes they were preceded by a little exhilaration, 
indicated by unusual laughing and talking. Neither 
did he experience the epileptic aura, nor was he aware 
that the tits were ever simply epileptiform, scarcely 
visible to the observer. He was not aware that the 
tits were preceded or followed by an unusual sense of 
distrust or suspicion or apprehension. He could call to 
mind two occasions of being quite unconscious for sev- 
eral hours, though continuing his employment, and ap- 
pearing to others as usual. On the first, which hap- 
pened while quite a boy, he got a boat and spent the 
day rowing about on the river, and when asked about 
it the next day, he had no recollection of the occurrence, 
the period being an utter blank in his mind. During 
the last few years, this paroxysmal kind of unconscious- 
ness had occurred several times, but had not extended be- 
yond half an hour or little more. He believed in all the 
notions of spiritualism as professed and practiced at the 
present time, but he also believed something more than 6 
this. His spirit, he said, had the power of leaving the 
body at will, and going to distant lands and to other 
worlds. The spirits of both the dead and the living often 
appeared before him, clothed in bodily shape and per- 
fectly visible to the bodily eye, and they conversed to- 
gether in audible language. The nearest approach to 
delusion that he manifested was observed in his expres- 
sions respecting his own fate. He regarded himself as a 
victim made to serve some ulterior purpose, and when 
asked what enemies he had who would persecute him so, 
he intimated that the matter originated in deeper coun- 
sels than those of man. When pressed still farther on 
this point, he declared that for some good and wise pur- 
pose, known only to God himself, he was to be sacrificed, 
and he was perfectly willing. On the subject of his ap- 
proaching death he spoke calmly, and even cheerfully. 
He said he did not expect a reprieve, nor did he wish 
to live. Life had no charms for him. He had tried re- 
peatedly to take his own life, and while in the service 
he always had exposed himself in every possible way, in 
the hope that an enemy’s bullet would do for him what 
he had been unable to do for himself. He wished for no 
clergyman, because no clergyman could tell him any- 
thing about the spiritual world that he did not already 
know. He believed in God, and in future rewards and 
punishments, and being perfectly innocent of the crime 
laid to his charge, why should he have a clergyman \ 
He stoutly maintained that he did not commit the act 
for which he was to suffer. He had been in the habit 
of visiting the deceased, occasionally, their common be- 
lief in spiritualism having led to the acquaintance, and 
on this occasion, going into the house as usual, he found 
her dead—murdered. In this interview he exhibited 
none of the traits of a criminal, either in his language, 
manner, or countenance, but rather those of a dreamy,, 7 
visionary youth, whose speculations had carried him far 
beyond the common experience of man,—so far, in fact, 
that he hardly knew, at any time, whether he was in 
the body or out of the body. In these statements re- 
specting his own mental experience, there is no reason 
to doubt his entire belief. The air of sincerity and 
good faith by which they were accompanied could not 
have been counterfeited, even by a consummate actor. 
We ought, perhaps, to except from the scope of this re-, 
mark the denial of his guilt, for there was nothing 
peculiar in that, considered apart from the rest of his 
discourse. 
Here our knowledge of the prisoner’s history ends. 
Farther investigation might have removed all the ob- 
scurity resting on his psychological condition, but we 
need not, on this account, withhold the impressions 
made by the facts that came within our reach. 
Whether from hereditary predisposition or not, it is 
obvious that the prisoner was born with a nervous 
system strongly inclined to morbid manifestations. One 
of these, which actually made its appearance at a very 
early period, was epilepsy, which of all the forms of 
cerebral disorder, stands among the gravest. Coinci- 
dent with this, either as a direct effect, or a collateral 
result of the original nervous defect, there appeared in 
childhood instances of unconsciousness, which, patho- 
logically considered, may be affiliated to somnambulism 
and catalepsy. And these continued to occur through 
the latter years of his life, though not perhaps in so 
well-marked a form. It could hardly have been ex- 
pected that his intellectual operations would entirely 
escape from the influence of this abnormal condition of 
the nervous system. Hence his distaste for exact and 
practical knowledge requiring continuous attention and 
effort, and his fondness of reverie and dreamy specula- 8 
tion, which needed neither discipline nor preparation. 
This trait strengthened with advancing years until his 
whole intellectual life became little better than a dream, 
in which the inward and the outward, the real and the 
imaginary, were inextricably mingled and confused. 
For legal purposes it might seem necessary to separ- 
ate the epileptic element from the rest, and ascertain 
the precise amount of its influence upon the moral 
character and conduct. But the elements of nervous 
disorder were too long and too intimately associated 
together to allow of this. Even under very different 
circumstances the effect of epilepsy on the mental man- 
ifestations is often determined, somewhat, by the train- 
ing and habits of the individual. Not to the same 
extent, certainly, that mania is, but enough to be taken 
into the account in any psychological estimate of its 
consequences. In this case it may have had the effect 
of rendering his notions on certain subjects still more 
extravagant and remote from the line of common belief 
than they would otherwise have been. Whether or not 
it ever produced delusions, is a point on which the evi- 
dence is not very clear. His spiritualistic experience 
was that, for the most part, of thousands of other people 
never supposed to be insane, and yet it is difficult to 
draw the dividing line between this kind of experience 
and downright insanity. That the one passes into the 
other is a matter of common observation, and if some 
of his most extravagant notions respecting his inter- 
course with spirits be held in common with a few other 
spiritualists, it may be questioned whether these are 
not of the clsss who have entered this transition-state, 
or even completed their passage through it. The prob- 
ability of such a fact can scarcely be doubted. We 
know that the delusions of the insane are often merely 
exaggerations of their habitual belief. Spiritualism in 9 
any shape is a matter of temperament rather than a de- 
duction of evidence and reason, and thus is furnished 
an additional proof that Winnemore was endowed with 
a nervous system peculiarly liable to abnormal activity. 
I do not mean to convey the idea that the facts of spir- 
itualism are entirely the creation of fancy or of fraud. 
Many of them are susceptible of proof, and are attested 
by evidence that place them beyond a reasonable doubt. 
They indicate the existence of agencies, certainly, that 
have not yet been admitted into the philosophy of the 
schools. It is to be regretted that the prevalent ten- 
dency is to ignore them entirely, rather than to make 
them a subject of scientific investigation. It is surpris- 
ing that physicians, especially, with such well recognized 
affections before them as catalepsy, somnambulism, ec- 
stasies and double consciousness, should jump to the 
conclusion that all the facts of spiritualism and animal 
magnetism are utterly anomalous and impossible. 
Winnemore’s notion about his being a victim, which 
might seem, at first sight, to be a genuine delusion, was, 
probably, only a rational notion carried to the utmost 
verge of extravagance. When his innocence should 
be proved hereafter to the satisfaction of everybody, as 
he believed it would, the consequence would be an utter 
change of popular opinion on the subject of capital 
punishment, and thus he might regard himself as a sac- 
rifice offered up for the good of humanity—not merely 
as a martyr whose blood, in the ordinary and regular 
course of events, would become the seed of a great 
benefit, but as the favored child of a magnificent destiny 
prepared and arranged in the councils of the Almighty. 
It was not alleged that his disease had produced any 
moral perversion. On the contrary, the evidence showed 
that he always displayed the same mild, quiet, inoffen- 
sive disposition, from first to last. An attempt was 10 
made on the trial to prove that he had stolen, or was 
suspected of having stolen, from his friends, but it came 
to nothing. 
If tlie deed was committed under the influence of liis 
disease—supposing the charge to liave been true—we 
are necessarily led to inquire what particular phase of 
it was present. No one supposes that his mind was 
generally so impaired as to be incapable of discerning 
right from wrong, of knowing that murder is forbidden 
both by human and divine law, or of controlling the 
feeblest impulses of passion. The act could not have 
sprung from such a condition as that. Neither is there 
any ground for the supposition that he was under the 
dominion of that blilid fury, so frequently exhibited by 
epileptics immediately before or after a fit; or that his 
mind was overpowered by apprehensions of danger, or 
a sense of persecution and outrage from persons, real or 
imaginary, around him. Neither of these phases of the 
disease had he ever exhibited, and though it is not im- 
possible, perhaps, that the latter occurred on this occa- 
sion for the first time, there is not the slightest reason 
to believe that such was the fact. We then come to 
the only other epileptic condition in which the act could 
have happened—that of utter unconsciousness—and 
though we have no direct evidence respecting it, neither 
are we met by any circumstance of the case that would 
render it impossible. He had been in this state more 
than once before, and it was one of its incidents that he 
had no idea whatever of what he thought or did while 
in them. It appears that the woman was fond of 
making pictures of a peculiar kind, and he declared that 
it affected him very strangely and painfully to look at 
them, insomuch that when they were exhibited in court 
during the trial he begged that they might be removed, 
for he could not endure the sight. Coming upon them, 11 
suddenly perhaps, as lie entered the room, they might 
have had the effect of inducing one of those abnormal 
conditions of mind in which his acts were beyond the 
reach of consciousness or proper will. To a person of 
his very susceptible nervous organization, already the 
subject of many morbid manifestations, such an event 
might not have been impossible. True, the supposition 
borders on the marvellous, but we must bear in mind 
that Winnemore manifested a class of phenomena con- 
fessedly curious and obscure. If any one supposes that 
the marvellous is incompatible with true science, deser- 
ving only rebuke and derision, let him consider that 
every step in the progress of science has been but the 
repetition of a marvel, scouted at first as unworthy of 
the serious attention of the philosopher, and welcomed 
at last with triumphant admiration and joy. Whether, 
as a matter of fact, the deed was committed as here sup- 
posed, is a question that cannot be conclusively an- 
swered. Of this, however, we may be assured, that it 
was either thus committed or was prompted by the or- 
dinary motives of crime—interest or passion. Difficul- 
ties surround both hypotheses, while the question is 
also complicated by very grave doubts as to whether 
the deed of violence was done by the prisoner at all. 
If he killed the woman unconsciously, he might also 
have thrown the razor into the privy unconsciously, but 
all this would not have prevented his knowing, when 
he came to himself, that he entered the house with the 
razor in his pocket, for such must have been the fact. 
On the other hand, it was not pretended that he was a 
hardened criminal, and it did not appear that he had 
led a vicious life. It seems to be quite incredible that 
the alleged motive—that of getting a few dollars— 
would have induced such a man to murder a woman, 
deliberately and designedly, from whom he had experi- 12 
enced nothing but kindness. In this connection it must 
be borne in mind, that he always denied that the razor 
found in the privy was his, which, he declared, got 
broken and was thrown into the street, several days 
before. 
Farther observation and inquiry might have thrown 
more light on this interesting case. At subsequent inter- 
views his manner and manifestations might have been 
different, indicating a wider reach of the pathological 
element. His counsel told us that he varied consider- 
ably at different times, and that during the trial he was 
sometimes so dull that they could hold no intelligent 
communication with him. Something might have been 
learned from those who had been conversant with him 
during the fast four or five years, while serving in the 
army at a distance from his home and friends. That 
period must have embraced many interesting facts in 
his psychological history, and it is to be regretted that 
no opportunity occurred for learning them. Left as it is, 
it gives the physician scope for abundant speculation 
but no certain conclusion, while to the lawyer its results 
must seem more like a triumph of ignorance and pas- 
sion than of professional skill overcoming every device 
and obstacle, and arriving at last to a sure and satisfac- 
tory end. 
Before dismissing tlie subject, a sense of duty obliges 
us to animadvert, in tlie strongest terms of reprobation, 
on some of its incidental features, though one would 
gladly avoid the shame and mortification which it in- 
volves. The laws of the land and the great unwritten 
law of humanity provide for every one charged with 
crime a fair trial of his case,—a trial in which every 
reasonable opportunity will be afforded for making good 
his defence. The simple mention of a few dates and 
circumstances, without argument or comment, will show 13 
sufficiently how this sacred right was respected in this 
instance. Within eight days after the homicide was 
committed, Winnemore was arraigned for trial. Coun- 
sel were assigned him who had never seen him before, 
and knew no more than any body else about the facts 
of the case. The junior counsel was just admitted to 
the bar, and the senior counsel was then and continued 
to be, for several days, engaged elsewhere. They beg- 
ged for a postponement of the trial, in order that they 
might make the necessary preparation. This request 
was resisted by the district attorney, for no other rea- 
son than that he was ready for trial, and that great 
crimes should be punished speedily. A delay of two 
days, however, was granted, when the prisoner’s counsel 
again begged for more time, but without success. This 
brief statement of the facts is enough to show that the 
prisoner had not' a fair trial. The counsel were depend- 
ent on chance for the witnesses that might appear; they 
went to trial without having decided on the defence to 
be adopted; they had no opportunity to confer with 
experts, and experts, if employed, Avould have had no 
opportunity to examine the mental or bodily condition 
of the prisoner ; strange rules of evidence were sprung 
upon them, excluding much of the medical testimony 
they offered; and evidence of the highest importance 
came too late, though the utmost dispatch was used to 
obtain it. True, the government offered every facility 
for obtaining evidence, except the only one that could 
be of any avail, and were willing to admit certain facts 
which witnesses not forthcoming were expected to 
prove. A single incident will show how this swift 
dispatch affected the prisoner’s interests. It was one of 
the points made by the government, that, although 
W\nnemore might have been an epileptic in his child- 
hood, it did not appear that he had been afflicted with 14 
the disease during the latter years of his life. Of course 
it did not, because even the speed of the United States 
mail was insufficient to transmit in season the requisite 
evidence then on its way—the certificate of the surgeon 
of his regiment that he was an epileptic, and was dis- 
charged from the service for that reason. 
The reason offered for precipitating the trial of Win- 
nemore, viz., that the public good required that the 
punishment of so foul a crime should follow immedi- 
ately on the heels of the offence, would be entitled to 
respect if presented in good faith, with a sincere and 
systematic endeavor to make the administration of the 
law accomplish its proper ends. Such a wide departure 
from the custom of the country in capital cases, even 
for the commendable reasons alleged, naturally leads to 
inquiries that show very clearly how sincere and syste- 
matic was this pretended regard for justice. Just be- 
fore this case occurred, a man went in to one of the 
-court-rooms of Philadelphia while a trial was proceed- 
ing, and deliberately killed one of the parties to the 
suit, by a pistol-shot. So foul a murder as this—per- 
petrated in the very temple of justice itself—would 
seem to deserve, if any murder could, the most speedy 
and condign punishment in the power of the law to 
inflict. But mark the sequel. After a delay of several 
weeks this man was put upon trial. A band of able 
advocates appeared to defend him. A cloud of wit- 
nesses, embracing not one who could properly be called 
an expert, testified that he was insane when he commit- 
ted the act. He was acquitted on the ground of in- 
sanity, and on the very next day, testimony being pre- 
sented that he had recovered his reason, he was dis- 
charged by the court from farther confinement. And 
yet the prosecuting officer was the same in both in- 
stances ! 15 
It is a wise constitutional provision that enables the 
executive, in certain cases, to remedy the mistakes of 
the judicial authority, and secure to the criminal the 
benefit of those mitigating circumstances of which the 
courts can take no cognizance. Hampered by no rigid 
rules of proceeding, enjoying a certain freedom of choice 
in the use of the means at his disposal, allowed to go 
behind and beyond the records of the courts, the Gov- 
ernor of a State is able, in the exercise of his prerogative, 
to perform a service of the highest importance to society. 
Although the power thus given to him is to be used 
discretionally, yet its use is not a matter of caprice or 
arbitrary will. Whatever course he may take, whether 
he interposes or refrains from interposing, he is respon- 
sible for his decision to the conscience and understand- 
ing of the community—not merely to that little aggre- 
gate of individuals whose suffrages have placed him in 
power, but to that immense society which has any 
regard for the triumph of right and the progress of 
humanity. Failing to obtain a new trial, Winnemore’s 
counsel appealed to the Governor to appoint a medical 
commission for the purpose of ascertaining, by a suita- 
ble investigation, the prisoner’s mental condition. The 
appeal was unsuccessful. Almost at the very last mo- 
ment, they engaged the gentlemen whose names have 
been already given to visit the prisoner, with the idea 
that even in a single interview, for no more was possible, 
they might find enough to warrant them in asking for 
a stay of the execution, in order that they might have 
a suitable opportunity for making a thorough examina- 
tion of his case. The result has been already given. 
The wisdom of the Governor’s course is not very obvi- 
ous. It would seem to be the very case for executive 
interposition. The prisoner had had a hasty trial; im- 
portant evidence had arrived too late; those who were 16 
most acquainted with his history, psychological and pa- 
thological, during his latter years, were too far off to be 
available; though laboring under a disease which al- 
most invariably impairs the mind, no physician had 
examined him for the purpose of ascertaining the precise 
effect which it had exerted upon him; poor, and compar- 
atively friendless, he was without the usual means of 
securing the favorable regards of men. Circumstances 
like these plead trumpet-tongued for every privilege and 
indulgence which the laws and customs of the land 
allow. A medical commission, whatever might be the 
result of its inquiries, could not change the legal status 
of the prisoner. If unfavorable to the idea of mental 
impairment, the execution would have happened all the 
same, though delayed for a week or two. If, on the 
other hand, it showed that the prisoner was really irre- 
sponsible, from the long continued effect of disease, the 
Executive might have felt obliged to save him, and far 
be it from us to intimate that this would not have been 
gladly done. We can only suppose that the Governor 
had too readily received the impression, somewhat cur- 
rent among intelligent people, that the defence of in- 
sanity is generally a contrivance of ingenious counsel, 
favored by fanciful doctors, for saving a criminal from 
merited punishment; and consequently, that no proper 
purpose would be served by disturbing the results of 
the trial. However that may be, one cannot but regret 
that he should have lost the opportunity thus offered of 
adding to the laurels so nobly won in the field another 
not less durable, reaped in the humbler service of hu- 
manity. 
The case of Winnemore has brought to mind that of 
Fyler, also an epileptic, who was tried in Onondaga 
County, N. Y., in 1855, for killing his wife. It was the 
first time, in this country, to my knowledge, when epi- 17 
lepsy was pleaded in defence of crime. The two cases 
were strikingly similar in many important points. Both 
were young; in both the disease had existed several 
years, but without producing any very obvious mental 
impairment beyond the immediate effects of a fit; in 
both there was no evidence that a fit had occurred 
about the time of the homicide, or that they exhibited 
any of the ordinary signs of a fit; in both the proof 
that they committed the act at all was only circumstan- 
tial, and both prostested their innocence to the last; in 
both there was an apparent absence of any adequate 
motive. In other respects they exhibited a remarkable 
contrast. In Fyler’s case the homicide occurred in 
February, 1854. The Grand Jury indicted him the 
following March, and he was arraigned for trial the 
next June. The prisoner’s counsel not being ready, the 
case was postponed, and a special term for the trial was 
ordered by the Governor, in November. Another post- 
ponement was obtained, and the trial finally came on 
in February 1855, or a year after the act was committed. 
A verdict of guilty was rendered, when his counsel 
moved a suspension of sentence, on the ground that 
the prisoner was then insane. In this they succeeded. 
A medical commission was appointed to investigate his 
mental condition, who reported that he was then in- 
sane, and he was thereupon committed to the asylum 
at Utica. Is it necessary for us to say which of these 
two cases presents that higher regard for justice, that 
keener sense of humanity, which are supposed to be 
a legitimate result of the advancing civilization of our 
times ? If the case of Bellingham, the assassin of Mr. 
Percival, who was tried, sentenced, executed and dis- 
sected, all within a week of the commission of the 
deed, was justly stigmatized by an English judge, in 
his seat on the bench, as “ a piece of barbarity,” we 18 
could hardly venture to name the severe censure that 
the case of Winnemore provokes, occurring as it does 
after a half century of progress, and among a people 
who have been accustomed to be shocked by the care- 
less dispatch of an Old Bailey trial. 
A word or two more before I close, on the general is- 
sue presented by sucb cases as Winnemore’s and Fyler’s. 
It can scarcely be denied that epilepsy, considered as a 
source of mental impairment, lias not been so thoroughly 
studied as most other forms of cerebral affection. Phy- 
sicians have given their attention too exclusively to the 
fft, and the state of things immediately preceding and 
succeeding it; and this is not strange when we consider 
that most epileptics, during the first few years, continue 
their customary employments, and to the world at large 
seem to have suffered no mental deterioration. Indeed, 
they are seldom the subjects of any medical observa- 
tion at all. It is not, generally, until the mental powers 
have become very obviously impaired that they find 
their way into a hospital, where their mental condition 
is closely observed. What we need above all things 
else in the medical history of this disease, is more in- 
formation respecting that general impairment of the 
mind which, sooner or later, in a greater or less degree, 
is sure to follow. The frequency of the disease makes 
its medico-legal relations a subject of the highest im- 
portance, for the trials in which it will be offered in 
defence of criminal acts will be steadily increasing in 
number. The older medical jurists were disposed to 
make its exculpatory effects a matter of time, and sought 
for an arbitrary period before and after the fit within 
which they should be confined. We know enough 
more of epilepsy than they did to be sure that such 
views are too narrow, though quite unable, certainly, to 
say precisely in what degree. The more conversant we 19 
become with epilepsy, the more strongly is the convic- 
tion forced upon us that its damaging effect upon the 
mind begins at an earlier period than that usually as- 
signed to it, and that some of the phases of this process 
are as yet imperfectly understood, even when recognized 
at all. There is reason to believe that some epileptics 
lose their proper consciousness occasionally, even when 
not under the immediate influence of a fit. In what 
proportion of cases this may occur, how often it may 
appear, and how long it may last—these are questions 
for future inquirers to answer. It is our duty, however, 
to see that the general fact, imperfectly as it is under- 
stood, should have its legitimate influence on judicial 
decisions. The excessive susceptibility of epileptics to 
nervous impressions, which become distorted if not 
utterly changed on their way to the sensorium, is a 
phenomenon not clearly recognized by the profession at 
large, although it cannot have failed to meet the atten- 
tion of the close observer. In medico-legal inquiries it 
should never be ignored or forgotten, for it may be the 
very phase of mental disturbance which prompted the 
criminal act. Let it not be objected that these are dan- 
gerous innovations, because such a thing ought not to 
be said of any scientific conclusion, honestly and intelli- 
gently reached. The distrust naturally felt towards any 
considerable advance upon existing views, is no proof 
against it with any well-disciplined mind; and no class 
of persons has had better evidence of the fact than that 
which is engaged in the study of insanity and the in- 
sane. It is not long since it was proclaimed, from many 
a high place in the world, that to make any other form 
of insanity than idiocy and raving mania an excuse 
for crime is a dangerous innovation, to be frowned upon 
by every friend of public order. 20 
In view of what we already know of epilepsy and 
of what still remains to be learned, we liave a right to 
require the utmost circumspection and the closest inves- 
tigation whenever the legal liabilities of epileptics are 
in question. The fact of its existence being established, 
is it going too far to say that legal responsibility is pre- 
sumptively annulled, and that the burden of proof lies 
on the party that alleges the contrary ? People are 
scarcely ready for it yet, perhaps, but to that complexion 
will they come at last.