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

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