It is not considered desirable in certain circumstances to have a flat-footed man dealt with as lame, but in other circumstances it is considered desirable and it is done. In like manner, in certain circumstances, it is not considered desirable to have a particular kind or degree of mental unsoundness dealt with as lunacy, but in different circumstances this is considered desirable, and it is done.
It is thus plain that the number of registered lunatics in a country is not a fixed figure, which cannot be increased or diminished. On the contrary, it is a figure which can be made to change greatly through the operation of many and varying causes; and it is obvious that this should not be forgotten by those who are deciding what ought to be the relations and duties of the State to the insane.
Committee on Lunacy Administration (Ireland),
Second Report of the Committee Appointed by the
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland on Lunacy
Administration (Ireland) (1891)1
The history of psychiatry is interesting, important and complicated to unravel.2 In Ireland, this history commences with the prehistory of psychiatry in the Middle Ages and early modern era, and continues with explorations of Gleann na nGealt (Glenn of the Lunatics) and Mad Sweeney (in the twelfth century), and Brehon Law (up to the seventeenth century). The emergence of new forms of institutional care is explored, as are the lives and works of Sir William Fownes and Jonathan Swift, both of whom were connected with the establishment of St Patrick’s Hospital, Dublin, in 1746. Burnham’s ‘drama’ of the healer3 features strongly in the form of Dr William Saunders Hallaran and the succession of enthusiasms for new treatments that emerged in Ireland (and elsewhere) in the late 1700s and early 1800s. This is how it all began.
The Middle Ages and Early Modern Era
Early understandings of mental illness in Ireland, as in other countries, focused on supernatural and religious explanations for the unusual beliefs and behaviour displayed by persons who would later be regarded as mentally ill.4 In pre-Christian Ireland, it was believed that druidic priests, acting for pagan deities, could induce madness by throwing a ‘madman’s wisp’ (a ball of grass or straw) in a person’s face.5 Fullon, a druid of Leinster around 600 BC, was reputedly the first to cast such a spell, initially making incantations on the wisp of straw and then throwing it at his victim.6 A similar fate befell Comgan, son of Maelochtair, King of the Decies in Munster in the seventh century, when a young woman he spurned persuaded a druid to throw a magic wisp on him, leading to skin ulceration, baldness and madness, interspersed with periods of lucidity during which the unfortunate but still articulate Comgan robustly declaimed poetry and prophecies.7
The moon was commonly linked with madness in early Ireland and there was a belief that a seaside rock in Dunany, County Louth, known as Cathaoir Ana (Madman’s Chair), attracted the mentally ill, who could be cured by sitting on it three times.8 Conversely, those who were not mentally ill and sat on it might become mad. According to another account, if a mad person sat on the rock during a period of lucidity, that lucidity would be maintained because the mental state of the person at the time he or she sat on the rock would be so fixed for life. Early Irish literature and folklore are full of other references to madness and various unusual psychological states. Stories such as the Cattle Raid of Cooley (Táin Bó Cúalnge), the central epic of the Ulster cycle, as well as many other strands of Irish folklore, present vivid descriptions of altered states of mind and diverse kinds of madness.9
The arrival of Christianity saw the emergence of beliefs that insanity was attributable to possession by the devil or punishment by God, and the phrase duine le Dia (person of God) came into common use for persons with intellectual disability. One story claims that St Mochuda cured a man of madness (owing to demonic possession) by interceding with God.10 Another tells how a Norman archer became mad after entering the sacred area surrounding a perpetually burning fire lit by St Brigid in Kildare.11 This man blew on the fire and became insane, blowing into people’s mouths and running from house to house blowing on every fire he could find. He was seized by his comrades and, at his request, brought to water where, thirsty from all the blowing, he drank so much that he burst and died on the spot. Another man tried to enter the circle around St Brigid’s fire and put one of his legs across the hedge, but was dragged back by his comrades, only to find his leg and foot had withered away; he was lame and intellectually disabled for the rest of his life.
Early Irish law outlined a series of rights for persons of unsound mind and the intellectually disabled, specifying an obligation for families to look after the insane, the elderly and those with physical disabilities.12 Law texts from the seventh and ninth centuries distinguished between a person who was deranged (mer), a person who was violently insane (dásachtach) and a person with intellectual disability (drúth).13 There was a clear distinction drawn between madness and intoxication due to alcohol.14 A person with epilepsy (talmaidech) was regarded as possessing legal competence once he or she was of sound mind; it was, however, imperative that he or she was minded in order to prevent injury to self or others during seizures.
Exploitation of the insane was forbidden; a contract with a person of unsound mind was invalid; anyone inciting a drúth to commit a crime had to pay the fine himself; and there were specific provisions dealing with land owned by the insane.15 There were also provisions dealing with offences committed by persons of unsound mind or a drúth, and provisions governing issues related to childbirth and responsibility for offspring of the mentally ill. Overall, the main concern of these laws was to protect the mentally ill and intellectually disabled from exploitation and ensure that any children were looked after appropriately.
For much of this period, there was a widespread belief that mental illness conferred lightness of body such that affected persons could move from one spot to the next at high speed by merely touching the ground here and there; i.e. essentially flying.16 This was consistent with the belief that madness induced by battle resulted in warriors becoming as light as air and simply floating away from the battlefield, as reportedly occurred to Bolcáin, King of France, at the battle of Ventry when he beheld the ferocious Oscar, son of Oisín, rushing towards him.17
This interesting belief persisted up to the thirteenth century and contributed to the mythic figure of Mad Sweeney (Suibhne Geilt), whose remarkable tale is told in Buile Suibhne, an epic story written in the twelfth century but with origins in the ninth century or earlier. The story of Sweeney is a vivid one, magically retold by Seamus Heaney (1939–2013)18 and brilliantly reimagined in comic form by Flann O’Brien (1911–1966).19 Sweeney, a chieftain, was cursed by Ronan the Fair, abbot of Drumiskin, and condemned to a life of madness, flying and wandering through the world. After wandering for many years, the curse was tragically fulfilled when he was killed with a spear.
Maddened by the slaughter at the battle of Moyrath in 637 AD, Sweeney (Suibhne) flew into the air from the battlefield20 and in this altered state decided to turn away from mankind and live with the birds and animals in the wilderness.21 For many years he wandered from tree to tree (commonly the yew tree), having strange, disturbing visions. In the end, he joined a community linked with St Moling but was speared to death by a swineherd who falsely accused him of adultery with his kindly, charitable wife.
Sweeney’s story is a powerful one, full of tragedy and loss, and for many centuries it underlined the idea of the mentally ill person as a wandering loner, misunderstood, persecuted and cast out. This was a feature of the history and mythology of mental illness in many cultures, not just Ireland.22 In all of its torment, tragedy and isolation, Sweeney’s story reflected not only contemporary views of the dislocation and loneliness of madness, but also tensions between pre-Christian and Christian Ireland, demonstrated vividly in Sweeney’s unresolved disturbance and dislocation.
There were various other local stories and traditions concerning mental illness and intellectual disability. In Kerry, a valley became known as Gleann na nGealt, Glenn of the Lunatics,
