Case Study: Prosecution under the 1845 Lunatics Act

Culturally, when we think of the lunatic asylum, we think of dark, haunting sites of abuse and neglect. More broadly, when we consider mental illness in the past, images are conjured up of ‘mad’ neighbours left to their own devices, or individuals confined away by relatives out of the gaze of the local community. Overwhelmingly, there is a sense of shame and maltreatment in these cultural depictions. But how true are they? In this post I delve into one case in 1873 of a family concealment of mental illness, and the consequences this had.

Recently, my research has taken me to examine the misdemeanours that resulted in prosecutions brought under the 1845 Lunatics Act. This legislation created the central regulatory body, the Commissioners in Lunacy, who had the power to inspect all residences and institutions that housed people certified as ‘insane’ to ensure they were being correctly treated in a humane and supportive manner. They also had the power to instigate prosecution proceedings against anyone who breached the law. Misdemeanours ranged from keeping an individual classed as insane without the correct certification and order, to severe neglect and abuse. Those prosecuted could be staff members of asylums found to have mistreated patients, or could be the general public guilty of some sort of wrongdoing on the part of the ‘insane’.

The case I want to highlight is that of Joseph E, of Brackenthwaite, Wigton, prosecuted in…1872 for keeping his 73 year old mother in his house illegally, as she was insane, and wilfully neglecting her whilst under his care. Detailed in the Commissioners in Lunacy 1873 annual report, they commented:

‘the superintendent of police visited…and found his mother shut into a room with a wet flagged floor, no fire, and little light, for the window had been boarded up. Her condition was excessively filthy, and evidenced utter neglect. With the exception of a nightcap, she was naked, and was found crouched on her bed…How long the woman has been kept in this state did not appear. She had been found wandering in a state of nudity in Wigton, in February or March preceding the visit of the superintendent, and had then been brought back to her son’s house. The police took proper steps for lodging the lunatic in the Cumberland Asylum with due expedition, and charged the son before the local bench with cruelty and neglect…He was committed for trial to the Quarter Sessions, and, on hearing what had occurred, we ordered our secretary to prosecute.’

When the case came to court, something curious happened, which the Commissioners referred to as ‘a complete failure of justice in a case of undoubted ill-treatment’. Although the evidence of mistreatment was proven, the relationship between the Joseph and his mother apparently removed his liability for prosecution, as he had a ‘natural obligation’ to keep her, rather than the fact being that he willingly took on her care and knowingly mistreated her. As a result, he was acquitted of all charges.

Therefore, although the presence of the Commissioners in Lunacy goes against the cultural portrayals of madness and asylums, as there clearly was a correct code of practice ensuring that abuse/neglect did not happen, incidents did arise whereby people severely mistreated the mentally vulnerable. Does this mean that our understanding of mental illness in the nineteenth century is skewed by a small number of incidences? Possibly so, or was it that the prosecutions were upheld as examples, with a view to combating more widespread breaches? In this case, as we have seen, prosecution wasn’t successful, but there were many more which did result in a fine or prison sentence. However, the maximum sentence brought in any of the prosecutions that I have studied (1845-1890), was seven years in prison, which was for the manslaughter of an asylum patient by an attendant. In reality then, was the law tough enough on breaches of the Lunatics Act? Did this leniency result in many more abuses later on, and into the twentieth century?

Thanks for taking the time to read this post. Stay tuned for more on prosecutions, as I am working on a book chapter on this area. Follow me on Twitter for full updates @caradobbing 

If you liked this, you may also enjoy my thesis, which is freely available to view  - https://leicester.figshare.com/articles/The_Circulation_of_the_Insane_The_Pauper_Lunatic_Experience_of_the_Garlands_Asylum_1862-1913/10226480

Work related worry in the nineteenth century asylum

Last year, 54% of all working days lost were attributed to conditions caused by work related stress, and increasingly, pressure due to overwork is inducing bouts of mental ill health among workers.[1] However, the impact of overwork on an individual’s mental health is not a phenomenon consigned to recent decades. This post details three cases that demonstrate how work was found to impact patients in the archives of the Garlands Asylum, in an attempt to link our experiences with those confined in lunatic institutions of the nineteenth century. 

It is important to note that patients admitted to a lunatic asylum would be diagnosed according to the symptoms they displayed. As a result, largely due to a lack of understanding of the workings of the brain and how mental illness manifested, conditions were attributed to physical causes. For instance, injuries close to the brain were thought to trigger a breakdown of a person’s mental health. In the casebooks, events such as ‘injury to head from fall on a rock’, were cited as the cause of insanity. In this instance, the patient, Christopher S, had suffered a head injury, which bled profusely at the time, but no one considered it a serious threat to his health. Two years passed before he was admitted to Garlands, which was triggered by the violence towards his wife, to such an extent that she was afraid of him. Less common in the casebooks were explanations of conditions due to ‘moral’ causes, as they were then termed. Anything considered to be caused by a heightened emotional state, for example ‘disappointment in love’, can be found but were much less common. In 1872, in a review of Garlands’ first decade of admissions, Dr Clouston stated that only a quarter of cases were due to emotional trauma. 

The first patient, Joseph T, was admitted to Garlands in November 1882. The cause of his insanity was believed to be ‘worry and hardwork’. Given his occupation, a general practitioner, it can easily be deduced as to why his profession would’ve impacted his health. Before the NHS, GPs were their own enterprises. They worked long hours, travelled great distances to visit patients at home, and had to secure their own business. His case notes also tell us that he was resident in the Crichton Asylum in Dumfries five years earlier, and although he had been discharged recovered, it was noted that he had not felt well since. Interestingly, it was work that aided him whilst under treatment in Garlands. Shortly after admission it was noted that he ‘has gone to work with a party in the grounds’. This was part of the work-based therapy offered in Victorian asylums, as useful occupation was seen to divert patients from their disordered thoughts. A little later on, Joseph’s case notes state that: ‘Is very industrious, says he feels he would break windows etc. if he did not work’. However, it was this outdoor work which also led to his exit from Garlands. After being granted more liberty, due to continuous good behavior, he was placed in charge of one of the working parties, and increasingly given more freedom. This gave him the chance to escape, as detailed in the following passage: 

‘The patient was allowed a considerable amount of liberty and never showed any tendency to abuse this privilege, nor had there been anything unusual in his mental state of late. He went out for a walk between 7 and 8am and he did not appear at meals. A search was instigated for him...’ 

Joseph was never found, or brought back to the asylum, and his body was recovered mere miles from Garlands five weeks later near a quarry, which it was presumed he fell into shortly after his escape. 

Second, cases can be found in the records of patients who experienced delusions to do with work. One example is that of John W, who was admitted to Garlands in February 1897. He was 37, suffering his first attack of insanity which had lasted about a week. The doctors couldn’t find an apparent cause, but noted that he ‘came home from work saying there was a conspiracy against him and refused to go back’. Under ‘delusions’ it was also recorded: ‘says there was a conspiracy against him by fellow workmen and that part of it is to bring him here’. John remained in Garlands for 6 months, and was discharged as recovered as his delusions abated.

The final case to be presented demonstrates that a lack of work could also be a cause of mental breakdown. Richard A was brought to Garlands on 4 October 1862, and was said to have been driven insane by his ‘anxiety of mind for want of work’.  He lacked a hereditary predisposition to the illness, therefore the cause of Richard’s mental instability was attributed to his lack of work and food. Within six weeks Richard was discharged as recovered, restored to full health simply by eating, sleeping well, and being usefully employed in the Asylum workshop.  Here we can clearly see that periods of economic decline, specifically in agriculture, effected, not just a person’s income, but also their mental health. Farmers and casual agricultural labourers were at times merely surviving, and, in some cases, the threat of losing work, or being without an occupation, was enough to trigger insanity. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you would like to read more of my research on the Garland Asylum, my thesis is freely available to view online: https://leicester.figshare.com/articles/The_Circulation_of_the_Insane_The_Pauper_Lunatic_Experience_of_the_Garlands_Asylum_1862-1913/10226480 

For more information about mental health, talking about mental illness, and support, visit https://www.time-to-change.org.uk/ 

 [1] https://www.hse.gov.uk/statistics/causdis/stress.pdf 

Suicide in the Nineteeth Century Cumberland Press

Today, 10^th October 2019, is World Mental Health Day. This year’s theme is suicide prevention, and the message is that of hope. Through this post I shall reflect on how suicide was regarded in the later nineteenth century in a bid to reflect on what has changed, and maybe what has not changed so much.

In an earlier post I detailed how suicides were reported when they occurred in the asylum, this time I focus on how they were reported in the local press. An apt starting point is an article published in the Penrith Observer in June 1894 entitled ‘The Prevention of Suicide’. It placed great importance on a lack of faith: ‘the decay of religious faith coincides with an increase of suicides’. It suggested that doctors would do well to advise religion medically and that: ‘Religion is undoubtedly of use to unhappy persons; therefore let all the unhappy by all means seek its consolations and its staying powers.’ This differs somewhat to the contemporary treatment of an individual with suicidal thoughts, and demonstrates the prominence of religion and morality in Victorian society.

An earlier article from the Wigton Advertiser dated September 1860, detailed a paper published by Dr Conolly, the celebrated asylum superintendent from Hanwell. Titled, ‘Prevention of Suicide Among Lunatics’, Conolly stated that: ‘means for the prevention of suicide, save incessant watching, there seem to be none.’ He went on to describe the hidden impulses of those harboring suicidal thoughts, and that it is impossible to predict that they may harm themselves: ‘A lady, who seemed on the preceding evening quite cheerful, and even to awake in the morning reconciled to life, and restored to hope, is left alone for what seemed to have only been five minutes, and is found suspended by the bed curtains.’ Conolly was one of the early advocates of the ‘non-restraint’ movement, which encouraged the abandonment of straitjackets and other implements, and only resorted to them when all else had failed and patients posed a risk to themselves or others. He touches on non-restraint and its impact on suicide in this paper: ‘It is scarcely necessary to say that since the abolition of mechanical restraints suicides have not been of more frequent occurrence than before…I believe it may safely be said that they have even become less frequent in proportion to the increased viligance necessarily substituted for restraints and to the greatly increased attention given to the general comfort of the insane in all our great institutions.’

Instances of suicide would frequently be reported in the local and national press. Although this seems somewhat intrusive and an invasion of privacy, until 1961 suicide was illegal, which still protrudes somewhat into today as the phrase ‘commit suicide’ has criminal connotations. This may help to explain why suicide was reported in newspapers in such detail, and quite frequently. This is an example from the Penrith Observer in March 1874, which can be upsetting and quite shocking for us reading in the modern-day:

SUICIDE AT GREAT STRICKLAND

On Saturday last a very painful case of suicide occurred at the village of Great Strickland, Westmorland. On that day the dead body of Mr John Parker, mason and farmer, an old and respected resident in the village, was found suspended by the neck from a cross-beam supporting the roof of his barn. Deceased, who was an elderly man, left his family after dinner, but nothing in his manner tended in any way to indicate that he contemplated suicide, and it was not until between two and three o’clock that he was missed by his relatives. A search was then made, and the body of the deceased was found as described above. The deceased was usually a cheerful and intelligent man, and up to the present time nothing has been elicited to account for the rash act.

Cases where suicide had not resulted in death would be the subject of inquiry and would result either in the individual being sent to prison, or they would be judged to have been insane at the time of the act and would be admitted to an asylum. One example was reported in February 1897 in the Maryport Advertiser:

A VIOLENT LUNATIC AT COCKERMOUTH

ATTEMPTED SUICIDE

Yesterday (Friday) a potter named Edward Keenan, 27 years of age, who lives with his father and several brothers…made an attempt to cut his throat with a table knife, but fortunately only succeeded in inflicting a slight scratch. The man was very violent, and Sergeant McKay and Constable Dodd were called in to hold him down, and it was necessary to have the assistance of a third man. Dr Mitchell was sent for, and after examination he ordered Keenan’s removal to Garlands Asylum. On the way to Carlisle the man continued to be very violent.

It is evident that the way in which suicide is regarded has altered since these newspaper reports were published. However, it has been on the increase in recent years. The more we can encourage people to talk about their feelings, and offer safe spaces to listen, the more chance we have of looking out for each other. In line with World Mental Health day, it is important to highlight that mental illness can occur to any of us, at any time. Reflecting on stories such as the one’s presented here reasserts the importance of talking about our feelings, and helping each other when we may be particularly struggling. For more information about World Mental Health Day 2019 see https://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/campaigns/world-mental-health-day

Before the Asylum: Provision for Cumbria’s Mentally Ill pre-1862

So far my posts have focussed on the experience of pauper lunatics admitted to Garlands from its opening in 1862 and onwards throughout the nineteenth-century. This time I shall explore what happened to those who required specialist treatment before Cumberland and Westmorland provided its own lunatic institution. I shall present some examples of pauper patients who received treatment elsewhere to demonstrate some of the responses that existed.

With the implementation of the 1845 Lunacy Act, all persons classified as of unsound mind had to be regularly inspected, by the local Poor Law relieving officers, who reported to the Commissioners in Lunacy, a nationwide body who presided over the care of the insane. Whether people were living at home under the care of relatives, in a workhouse or asylum, they had to be regularly visited to ensure they were not a risk to themselves or others. For patients in institutions, they would also be frequently inspected by the Commissioners in Lunacy, to ensure the establishments were providing acceptable levels of care, and the outcomes of these visits were recorded in their annual reports.

For those in Cumberland and Westmorland, pre-1862, there was no specialist provision in either county. Therefore, paupers needing asylum treatment would be sent to county institutions over in the North East. Most commonly used was the Dunston Lodge private Asylum just outside Gateshead. Usually, only the cases requiring constant supervision were taken such a distance to receive treatment, and they were sometimes the ones who posed the greatest risk to themselves or others.

One example, found in the Cockermouth Poor Law Union correspondence of January 1860 (The National Archives -TNA, MH12/1631) was Joseph L, who had been resident in Dunston Lodge since January 1855, at a charge to the Union of 10 shillings and sixpence per week. He was described as a lunatic, aged 45 from Keswick, and was listed along with thirteen others chargeable to Cockermouth Union that were present in Dunston Lodge. There were also a small number of others under treatment in Gateshead Fell and Bensham Asylums.

If cases were not classed as requiring asylum treatment, then individuals could be admitted to the local workhouse to be treated in their infirmary wards. Alternatively, for people who had willing, and able, relatives to look after them, they could reside at home, and the families would receive a small sum of money from the Poor Law Union to help with their upkeep, if they required it. For instance, in the Penrith Poor Law Union lunatic returns for January 1860, Mary B, aged 32 from Plumpton was listed as living in Penrith with her mother, who received five shillings per week to assist with her maintenance. The cases who typically resided with relatives were those classed as an ‘idiot’, which was used to denote life-long, incurable mental disabilities, and they were often cases who posed little risk to themselves or others.

In some cases, the returns list details individuals classed as mentally unsound who were living on their own and receiving maintenance. For instance, the East Ward Union returns for January 1858, details Alice W who was listed as living alone in Kirkby Stephen. She was 73, classed as a lunatic who had been of unsound mind for the previous 30 years, and was receiving maintenance of 2 shillings and sixpence per week. There seems to have been a little concern for her ability to reside at home, but a follow up inspection concluded: ‘She has resided in the same cottage for the space of 36 years which she keeps very clean and tidy and she appears to be very comfortable…she is quite safe alone.’ (TNA, MH12/13566)

Finally, individuals could also reside in the Union workhouse. One case which sparked some interest in the East Ward Union was that of an old man in the workhouse at Kirkby Stephen who was noticed on a visit by the inspectors in March 1858 to not be clothed in the workhouse dress, and was instead wearing his own clothes. This attracted attention because on admission, workhouse inmates would be given union clothing to wear, mainly so that their own garments could be de-loused. Therefore, the Poor Law Board inspectors found this quite odd. Further correspondence provided the explanation: ‘James R…the old man in question, was formerly a farmer in the township of Waitby…subsequently of his giving up his farm he lived alone in a cottage in the village of Waitby. But the 20^th of June 1856 on which the Relieving Officer received information that he was not in a fit state to take care of himself and was wandering on a moor some miles from his home. The Relieving Officer went in search of him and found him in a state of imbecility and brought him to the Workhouse…the old man had a sum of money concealed upon him…Forty pounds…the old man’s nearest relatives…agreed that the money should be placed in a bank and if the Guardians would allow him to remain in the workhouse, he would pay for his maintenance’ (TNA, MH12/13566). Thus, as he was paying his own way, he was allowed to stay, and in his own clothes. As he was incapable of looking after himself, the workhouse was a viable option for his care, and ensured that he did not have to be removed and treated a great distance away from his home and his relatives.

If you have enjoyed reading this post, and the rest of my blog, my thesis about the Garlands Asylum and it’s patients is available to view freely by clicking this link - https://lra.le.ac.uk/handle/2381/44377. It begins by recounting what happened once the Asylum opened, as patients previously sent large distances to be treated could be cared for much closer to home, allowing relatives to maintain contact. The main focus is analysing how, and why, patients were frequently transferred between some of the responses to insanity discussed in this post, and the effects it had on those who experienced it.

Also available to buy/download is the volume I co-edited – Family Life in Britain, 1650-1910. Chapter 7 centres on how the family remained in contact with relatives who were under treatment in Garlands, and explores their role in the process. Other chapters of interwst look at varying aspects of family life throughout history and attempts to reconfigure our understanding of the family unit and their coping mechanisms in times of strife. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Family-Britain-1650-1910-Carol-Beardmore/dp/3030048543/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=family+life+in+britain&qid=1565371658&s=gateway&sr=8-2