Delusion in the courtroom: the role of partial insanity in early forensic testimony

Abstract

Standing in the dock at the Old-Bailey in 1833, Noah Pease Folger, Captain of the Sophia, seemed the soul of propriety. "No man was more kind hearted and human . . .", testified another ship's captain, who saw Folger three weeks before he attempted to kill Mr Mellish, the owner of the Sophia. Certainly "kind hearted and human" persons, if brought to the point of rage, had been known to commit acts of the most inhuman barbarity, yet Folger evinced a singular sort of distraction. His disorder, the jury was told, only began "when the subject which caused his malady was raised . . . he was quite calm and collected till Mr. Mellish's name came into question". In his moments of deep derangement, the Captain of the Sophia had been known to break window panes with his bare fists, dance on the broken glass, strip naked, and complete the episode by jumping on the back of a passing whale. With such a vividly illustrated history of madness, why should there have been any question regarding his plea of insanity?