Showing posts with label Madhouses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Madhouses. Show all posts

Madhouse Networks in Devon and Somerset (1800 - 1850)

 Now that I am done with the PhD, I can finally share some of the discoveries I made whilst completing it! One of the very first things I did, back when I started was to map out the locations of private mental health establishments from 1750 - 1860. (Any info in this blog post can be further explored by reading my thesis which will be available online from 11/4/25 or cited as "Emma Barrett, A Delicate Matter: the private asylums of the South West of England 1770 - 1851, PhD Thesis, University of Plymouth, 2024.")


First, let me briefly explain what a private asylum was! 

So, back in the 1700s, the care of the mentally unwell fell to what was called "The Parish" - think like a local council. This was later changed to unions but still run locally. Hospitals for the mentally unwell as we think of them now just didn't exist because people were only just starting to realise that mental illness was an illness at all!  There was of course the infamous Bethlem in London and other charitable institutions but most likely if you were poor and mentally unwell you were bound for the nearest workhouse. The rich and unwell were predominantly cared for at home. 
In the mid 1700s a new "craze" began, as businessmen, clergy, and doctors too began to realise there was the potential to make money by housing the mentally unwell (and later treating them) in privately run "lunatic asylums" - also known as madhouses. These started out as almost like care homes for the rich mentally unwell, but were soon taking on poorer patients too, paid for by the parish unions.  Before 1770 this was completely ungoverned! No lists of patients, licencing or records had to be kept at all and anybody could set up shop as a madhouse. In 1770, a bill passed into law that any houses such as these had to at least be licenced and had to keep a register of who they housed. This suddenly became a booming business - especially in the south west of England but all over the country too! 

However, madhouses soon picked up a bad reputation! 

Stories became rife of mistreatment, unnecessary detainment and people being forced into asylums in order to steal fortunes. Women, it was told, were especially vulnerable to being locked away by unscrupulous husbands and fathers. Now, this reputation doesn't entirely hold up when these asylums are studied, and my thesis goes further into how this damning reputation was created, however for this post all we need to say is that there was a real mixture of different types of asylums, all with different conditions within (from the very good, to very poor). There was not, however, the abundance of forcibly held sane people that literature and public opinion would have you believe. 

In the south west, there were more private asylums than anywhere else in the country - three times as many at one point! I will attach a map I created for my thesis to demonstrate the sheer numbers here - it's a little hard to read on this scale but at least shows you the numbers and rough locations:



The details are as follows:



What becomes even more interesting than the sheer numbers, is the network of people running them. Of the above, most of the men (and women!) running these asylums were doctors. Unusual for the time. More unusual were the links between them. At least 5 of the above, for example, were run by (at least for a short time) 1 of 2 brothers - the "Duck" brothers. 3 of the others were run by a family named Langworthy and there was a link by marriage between the two families too (James Duck's son married Caroline Langworthy - the daughter of another asylum owner). These families then, had a huge influence over mental health care in the region. Many of them were in (and on occasions ran) the Taunton branch of the local medical society too. Unfortunately, being run by one of these men was a sure-fire sign, however, that the asylum's conditions would be poor as all of the Langworthy asylums and most of the Duck asylums were heavily censured in inspections once those became commonplace in the 1800s.  (for more info on this, see my earlier blog post about Plympton House Asylum HERE )


Additionally, 
For anybody interested, or anybody doing family history, here is also a list of the persons running asylums in the south west of England and which asylums they ran :) 
(I apologise for the wonky columns. No matter what I do, they don't seem to want to play!)

Edward Long Fox                         Physician                          Cleave hill, Brislington

William Finch (2)                          Physician                          Laverstock

Charles Langworthy                   Physician                          Kingsdown

Robert Langworthy                      Physician                          Longwood, Kingsdown

William Finch (1)                          Not Medical                    Laverstock

Ann Hinks                                      Not Medical                    Nailsea

Martha Hinks                                Not Medical                    Nailsea

Justinian Mercer                          Not Medical                    Halstock

Caroline Finch                             Not Medical                    Laverstock

William Gillett                              Not Medical                    Fivehead

Robert Willett                               Not Medical                    Market Lavington

Zachariah Jefferies                      Physic                               Kingsdown

Nehemiah Duck                           Surgeon                            Cleve, Ridgeway

James Rich                                   Surgeon                            Ford House

Richard Langworthy                    Surgeon                            Plympton

john J Mercer                                Surgeon and Apoc         Halstock

William Spicer                             Not Medical                    Broadhayes

William Symes                             Surgeon                            Cranbourne

William E Gillet                             Surgeon and Apoc         Fivehead, Fairwater

James Duck                                  Physician                          Cleve, Fullands, Plympton

Charls Finch                                 Not Medical                    Fisherton (plus others)

Joseph Spry                                  Not Medical                    Bailbrook

Elizabeth Langworthy                 Not Medical                    Kingsdown

Joseph F Spencer                        Surgeon                            Fonthill

William C Finch                          Surgeon                            Fisherton (plus others not in region)

Betsey Mercer                            Not Medical                    Halstock

Alice Mercer                              Not Medical                    Halstock

 

For anybody who is interested, I do have a future post planned which will explain the different job titles the medical professionals had - when it's done I will add a link here :) 


John Clare - the "Mad Poet"

 John Clare, often referred to as 'The Pauper Poet', stands out as a quintessential romantic figure in English literature. He first captured public attention in 1820 at the age of twenty-seven while working
as an agricultural laborer and gardener.


In the quaint village of Helpston, located just six miles north of Peterborough, a remarkable figure for English Poetry was born: John Clare, affectionately known as "The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet." Born in Peterborough in Northamptonshire on July 13th 1793, Clare's early years were shaped by a humble, yet vibrant rural existence. He began working as an agricultural labourer at a tender age but found solace and inspiration in education, attending a school in nearby Glinton until he was 12. As a young adult, Clare took on various roles, including working as a potboy at The Blue Bell public house, where he fell for a girl named Mary Joyce, a romance thwarted by her father’s firm disapproval. His journey was marked by diverse experiences; he worked as a gardener at the grand Burghley House, served in the militia, and even dabbled in the nomadic lifestyle of the local travelling community. However, by 1818, circumstances forced him to rely on parish relief (money and support from the parish to live), a reminder of the challenges faced by many in his time. 

Despite these factors against him, Clare rose to literary prominence after his poems caught the attention
of local bookseller Edward Drury, who facilitated their publication through John Taylor of Taylor & Hessey. His first collection, "Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery," released in 1820, garnered significant acclaim, leading to further works like "Village Minstrel and Other Poems" in 1821, and he became celebrated for his authentic portrayal of rural life, much to the delight of critics and readers alike, who hailed his talent despite his humble origins.

Despite publishing several acclaimed collections of poetry, Clare still struggled with the trauma of his early life, a struggle which resulted in profound mental illness. In 1837, he was admitted to High Beech private asylum in Essex, marking the beginning of a turbulent period that would see him move between several asylums until his death in 1864. His experiences in these institutions deeply influenced his work and his mental health—diagnosed with depression, trauma, and anxiety —manifested in powerful delusions. In 1841, after escaping High Beech Asylum, Clare was recaptured and sent to Northampton General Lunatic Asylum, where he penned evocative poetry that reflected his mental state. 


Say maiden wilt thou go with me  


Through this sad non-identity  

Where parents live and are forgot  

And sisters live and know us not?  

Say maiden wilt thou go with me  

In this strange death of life to be  

To live in death and be the same  

Without this life, or home, or name.  


His later works, including a reimagining of Byron’s “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,” delved into more literal interpretations of his confinement, emphasizing themes of imprisonment and despair. Clare's desperate plea to remain at his cottage, recounted in Frederick Martin’s 1865 biography, highlights the tragic circumstances of his life.

 "He struggled hard when the keepers came to fetch him, imploring them, with tears in his eyes, to leave him at his little cottage, and seeing all resistance fruitless, declaring his intention to die rather than to go to such another prison as that from which he had escaped" 

Despite his plight, Clare's poems resonated with readers across England, particularly in the southwestern regions where agricultural laborers could well relate to his experiences as a rural worker. Newspapers widely published Clare’s work, often accompanied by notes on his life and struggles, including the Devizes and Wiltshire Gazette’s publication of “Invite to Eternity,” which described Clare's unique intellect despite his circumstances. Clare was, he said, 

"indistinguishable from other pauper patients but for the ‘traces of intellectual spirit."


John Clare's life, characterized by both his deep mental health challenges and his rich bond with nature, presents a distinctive viewpoint in studies such as my thesis, especially during the Romantic era when numerous poets encountered similar difficulties. His time in the asylum didn't stifle his creativity; instead, it ignited a prolific flow of work that vividly expressed his experiences, feelings, and observations of the natural world. Clare's talent for conveying the complexities of his struggles through poetry not only sheds light on the intricate link between creativity and mental illness but also showcases his resilience and commitment to his art, setting him apart from his contemporaries who might have chosen silence as an escape.


Refs:

            Emma Barrett, A Delicate Matter: The Madhouses of The South West Of England, 1770 – 1851, (PHD Thesis: Plymouth University, 2004), p.55-58
‘John Clare the Peasant Poet’, Coventry Standard, 10 June 1864, p.3; ‘Peasant Poet, Clare’, Roscommon & Leitrim Gazette, 2 April 1842, p.4.
Frederick Martin. The Life of John Clare. (London: Macmillan, 1865), p.201.
Anindita Chatterjee, ‘“I think I have been here long enough”: John Clare and the Poetry of His Asylum Years.’ Rupkatha Journal on Interdisciplinary Studies in Humanities 3.4 (2011).
Edward Strickland, ‘John Clare and the Sublime.’ Criticism 29.2 (1987): 141-161. (p.143).
 Willima C Engels, ‘Clare’s Mocking Tone’, The John Clare Journal, 15:1 (1996) p.57.
Delphi, Delphi Complete Works of John Clare - Kindle Edition (Hastings: Delphi Publications, 2013) p.1195 (This poem was originally published in Later Poems, 1837 – 1864).
Femi Oyebode ‘Recollections of journey from Essex by John Clare.’ Advances in psychiatric treatment (2012), vol. 18, 56–58.

Louisa - the Lady of the Haystack

 


Whilst researching my PhD, I stumbled upon a sweet but sad little story set in Somerset. An apparent true story, it was reported in The Lady’s Monthly Museum in 1801 that a "madwoman" had appeared in the Bristol region living ‘under a haystack’ and could not be coaxed to reside in a house until a lady persuaded her to go to an unnamed local private asylum nearby.[2] The location, ‘four miles from Bristol’ and the date given of admission, 1781, means it was probably Fishponds Asylum, Somerset - a well-known and renowned asylum which was opened in 1740.[3] When she was released "Louisa" returned to sleeping in the haystack and refused to move. Finally, she was apprehended and was admitted to "Guy’s Lunatic Hospital" in Bristol.[4] Louisa was described as ‘beautiful, graceful and elegant’, with the ‘deportment and conversation of superior breeding’.[6] A portrait of "Louisa" is shown below.




In 1804, this story was republished anonymously as a chapbook in London. This type of gothic chapbook, described sometimes as a ‘Shilling Shocker’, was a cheaply printed short – sometimes serialised – book aimed at the general public , much like a "Penny Dreadful" would become in later years.[7]  The Chapbook had this fantastic title:

The Affecting History of Louisa, the Wandering Maniac, or, ‘Lady of the Hay-Stack;’ So called, from having taken up her Residence under that Shelter, in the Village of Bourton, Near Bristol, in a State of Melancholy Derangement: A Real Tale of Woe.

 In the Shilling Shocker rendition, Louisa’s story was retold, but with the (most likely untrue) assertion that the girl was in fact a member of the German royalty! Louisa - it told -  had fled to England and become impoverished and mad.  This chapbook was accompanied by more illustrations in a Romantic style, and shows Louisa as a‘damsel in distress’ archetype.  This chapbook was published anonymously, however it was likely inspired by another, earlier telling of the tale, thought to be by George Henry Glasse (a clergyman). Glasse’s original story was published in 1785, four years after the event was said to have occurred. Glasse’s version of this story was also turned into a play, The Maid of Bristol in 1803 with similar embellishments.[8]

Despite that it is difficult to find any mention of Louisa in the papers, another character from this little drama was indeed a real person! Hannah Moore, who is said to have paid for the girl's charity was in fact a poet and a vocal supporter of the abolition of slavery. Hannah was deeply enriched in Christian values and abhorred seeing people in states of great poverty. Due to this, she set up a series of charitable institutions and schools for impoverished girls in Somerset. 

Hannah Moore - Louisa's benefactor

Another poet, Ann Yearsy of Bristol even wrote a poem about Louisa - 


Here the fair mania bore three winter snows,
 Here long she shivered stiffening in the blast; 
The lightning round their livid horrors cast; 
The thunders roared, while rushing torrents pour 
And add new woes to black affliction’s hour.


Despite knowing quite a bit about Louisa's life after she was found from the accounts of poets and also the doctor who treated her until her death in Guy's hospital in 1801, one thing has never been discovered - who really was Louisa?  I guess only conjecture remains!




[1]      ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.420.

[2]      ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.422.

[3]      In 1781, the only private asylums which operated in the region were Fishponds and Nailsea. Fishponds was located three miles from Bristol, whilst Nailsea was eleven miles.

[4]      This was the asylum which was attached to the workhouse.

[5] ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.423.

[6] ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.421.

[7]      Franz Potter, Gothic Chapbooks, Bluebooks and Shilling Shockers, (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2021), p.41.

[8]      James Boeden,. The Maid of Bristol: A Play in Three Acts. (New York: D. Longworth, 1803).

[9]      Anon, Louisa, Lady of the Haystack, p.7.



 



Plympton House Asylum

The grounds are being converted into a 'gated community'
My Favourite Pic of Plympton House - Found using Google Images Search by the Houses and Heritage facebook page. (however, sadly, the article which goes alongside this pic is largely factually incorrect when it comes to the house's years as an asylum).


 

 And yonder mansion old and strong, is now by some ill luck, (Oh! shame of story, and of song), The madhouse of Doctor Duck![1]

The house referred to in the anonymous verse above, is the private asylum known as Plympton House Asylum, which was opened in 1836 by Dr James Duck.

NOTE: Plympton House asylum was the focus of my Masters Degree and is one of the establishments which I am covering as part of my PhD :) The content of this blog post is made up of excerpts from my Masters thesis, and so it is copyright, however, citations might be made to said thesis using this reference: [Barrett, Emma., “The Madhouse of Doctor Duck: Plympton House Asylum 1835 – 1860” (Unpublished MA thesis, University of Plymouth, 2018)] The Thesis itself is accessible on request to Emma.Barrett@students.plymouth.ac.uk until it is formally published.

Bang in the middle of Plympton, is a walled in estate which is currently a scene of demolition and re-purposing as an old manor house and its outbuildings are being converted into an exclusive new gated housing estate. Previously a nunnery and a care home, Plympton House also has a much darker side to its history.
In 1835, at the height of reform in mental health care, a Quaker doctor named James Duck from Bristol purchased a lease on Plympton House to turn it into an insane asylum. Dr Duck was a seasoned asylum owner as, along with his brother Nehemiah, he had been running asylums for over ten years in Somerset. This is important as Quaker doctors were amongst some of the forerunners in mental health care at the time. Nehemiah and James split with James’s move from Somerset, as well as a change in religion brought about by his marriage to a non-Quaker lady. Initially, the men who inspected the asylums for the crown in Devon seemed to be pleased with the conditions there, and initially Plympton House Asylum was intended for private patrons only. Later, however, Plympton House was styled as a “House and Outbuildings” private asylum.[2] This style of asylum was one which was rising in popularity during the early nineteenth century amongst private asylum owners who took on pauper patients who could not afford to pay for care (This being before there was any state or government-run asylums at all in Devon). The concept of a “house and outbuildings” asylum being that the well-to-do private patients were housed in the house with the family, whilst the paupers kept separately in the outbuildings.[3]

During the 1840s, the governing bodies which inspected asylums were to change drastically, and with these changes a group of men known as the “commissioners in lunacy” were sent to inspect every single asylum in England. In their reports, Plympton House was found to be in a very poor way, especially for the pauper patients. The commissioners described the House as “Disgusting and offensive” and unfit for purpose.[4]  They stated that Plympton House Asylum was visited three times, October 1842, July 1843 and October 1843.[5] They open by discussing how previous visiting justices had lodged a number of complaints already, about the objectionable condition of the premises, and add that there seemed to have been no observable response to these complaints. On their first visit, the commissioners describe cramped quarters, with a room of 16 by 12 foot holding seventeen patients. The bedrooms were “Cheerless and wet, from damp or rain”. Chief in their objections too was that a room inhabited by girls, which was accessible by a male patient.Later, things had worsened even more, with patients tied to beds, restrained, dirty and confined to small dark rooms which had not been cleaned.


So what had caused Plympton House to fall into such a state? The answer is possibly down to the fact that Dr Duck began to take on pauper patients. Dr Duck doesn’t seem to have been able to fill his asylum with enough of the well-to-do patients, or perhaps the local governing bodies of Devon were desperate for somewhere to send the mentally unwell of the county. Whichever is the case, it would seem that the conditions declined when pauper patients were admitted.In 1843, Dr Duck left for America, leaving his family member by marriage, a Dr Richard Langworthy in charge of the asylum. The Langworthy family were another seasoned family of asylum owners, also from Devon, Somerset and Bath. Shortly after, the Devon County Asylum opened its doors and all of the pauper patients in Plympton House were transferred back in to government care. After this, for a time, the inspectors found Plympton house to be much improved, however in the 1850s the house was once again falling into disrepair and the conditions worsened. It can be no coincidence that it was during this time that the Devon County Asylum had become full, and pauper patients were being sent once more back to Plympton House. Thus the pattern began again.
Plympton House remained an asylum for many years after this, and then eventually was taken over by a group of nuns who turned it into a care home.


Further Reading:
Primary: “Plympton House Asylum” Exeter and Plymouth Gazette 3rd June 1843 p.3“Fullands House Lunatic Asylum” Western Times, 5th September 1828, p.3“Lunatic Asylum, Ridgeway House” Bristol Mercury 14th February 1820, p.2“Taunton – Lunatic Asylum” Exeter Flying Post, 25th January 1821, p4“Dr James Duck”, Taunton courier , 18th May 1829, p4“Lunatic Asylum – Plympton House” North Devon Journal , 23 July 1835, p.3“Plympton House Lunatic Asylum Near Plymouth”, Sherborne mercury, 3rd August 1836, p.1“Preservation of a Testimonial to Dr Cookworthy” Western Daily Mercury, 27th July 1869 p.3Report of the Metropolitan Commissioners in Lunacy to the Lord Chancellor, Parliamentary Papers [henceforth “PP”], 1844, No. 1, Vol. 26, XXVI.
Books.There are no books specifically on Plympton House (until mine comes out!), but these might be of interest:
Johnathan Andrews and Andrew Scull, Customers and patrons of the mad-trade : the management of lunacy in eighteenth-century London ; with the complete text of John Monro's 1766 case book (London : University of California Press, 2003)Charlotte Mackenzie, Psychiatry for The Rich (London: Routledge, 2005)Peter Nolan, A History Of Mental Health Nursing, 2nd edn (London: Stanley Thornes, 1993)William L Parry Jones, The Trade in Lunacy (Originally printed 1972, Reprinted London: Routledge, 2006)
There are also a wealth of academic journals and articles on the subject of insane asylums – go to Google Scholar and search terms such as “lunatic asylum”

Picture Courtesy of Plymouth Herald: https://www.plymouthherald.co.uk/news/plymouth-news/behind-walls-secret-plymouth-mansion-700979


[1] An anonymous rhyme dated at approx. 1840, collected and cited by J.G. Commin, Devon Notes and Queries , 30, 1967 p. 20[2] Report of the Metropolitan Commissioners in Lunacy to the Lord Chancellor, Parliamentary Papers, 1844, No. 1, Vol. XXVI, pp. 60[3] . J.K. Walton, Casting out and Bringing Back in Victorian England: pauper lunatics, 1840-70, in W.F. Bynum, R. Porter and M. Shepherd (eds), The anatomy of madness, vol. II, London, Tavistock Publications, 1985, pp. 132[4] Report of the Metropolitan Commissioners in Lunacy 1844, pp. 62[5] Report of the Metropolitan Commissioners in Lunacy 1844, pp.60-65