If precedent be a recommendation to a plan, it can be found in favour of appointing Assistant Commissioners in the example of the Scotch Lunacy Commission, and in the constitution of the Poor Law Board, which has a distinct class of officers known as inspectors. In fact, every other Government Board or Commission, except that of Lunacy, has a staff of Assistants or of Inspectors.
Chap. XI.—On some Principles in the Construction of Public Lunatic Asylums.
In the preceding pages of this book we have had occasion to discuss many important points respecting the organization of public asylums; and, as we entertain some views at variance with the prevalent system of asylum construction, a supplementary chapter to elucidate them cannot be misplaced. The substance of the following remarks formed the subject of a chapter on Asylum Construction published by us in the ‘Asylum Journal’ (vol. iv. 1858, p. 188) above a year since, and, as we then remarked, the principles put forward had been adopted by us some five or six years previously, and were strengthened and confirmed by the extended observations we had personally made more recently on the plans and organization of most of the principal asylums of France, Germany, and Italy.
All the public asylums of this country are, with slight variations, constructed after one model, in which a corridor, having sleeping-rooms along one side, and one or more day-rooms at one end,—or a recess (a sort of dilatation or offset of the corridor at one spot), in lieu of a room, constituting a section or apartment fitted for constant occupation, day and night, forms—to use the term in vogue—a ‘ward.’ An asylum consists of a larger or smaller number of these wards, united together on the same level, and also superposed in one, two, three, and occasionally four stories. There are, indeed, variations observed in different asylums, consisting chiefly in the manner in which the wards are juxtaposed and disposed in reference to the block and ground plans, or in the introduction of accessory rooms, sometimes on the opposite side of the corridor to the general row of small chambers, to be used as dormitories or otherwise; but these variations do not involve a departure from the principle of construction adopted.
Those who have perambulated the corridors of monastic establishments will recognize in the ‘ward-system’ a repetition of the same general arrangements,—a similarity doubtless due in part to the fact of ancient monasteries having been often appropriated to the residence of the insane, and in part to the old notions of treatment required by the insane, as ferocious individuals, to be shut apart from their fellow-men.
Whilst the ideas of treatment just alluded to prevailed, there was good reason for building corridors and rows of single rooms or cells; but, since they have been exploded, and a humane system of treating the insane established in their place, the perpetuation of the ‘ward-system’ has been an anomaly and a disastrous mistake. The explanation of the error is to be found in the facts,—that medical men in England, engaged in the care of the insane, have contented themselves with suggesting modifications of the prevailing system,—than which indeed they found no other models in their own country; and that the usual course has been, to seek plans from architects, who, having no personal acquaintance with the requirements of the insane, and the necessary arrangements of asylums, have been compelled to become copyists of the generally-approved principle of construction, which they have only ventured to depart from in non-essential details, and in matters of style and ornamentation.
The literature of asylum architecture in this country evidences the little attention which has been paid to the subject. The only indigenous work on asylum-building—for the few pages on construction in Tuke’s introduction to his translation of Jacobi’s book, and the still fewer pages in Dr. Brown’s book on asylums, published above twenty years ago, do not assume the character of treatises—is the small one by Dr. Conolly, and even this is actually more occupied by a description of internal arrangements in connexion with the management of lunatics, than by an examination of the principles and plans of construction. This bald state of English literature on the subject of construction contrasts strongly with the numerous publications produced on the Continent, and chiefly by asylum physicians, the best-qualified judges of what an asylum ought to be in structure and arrangements.
However, to resume the consideration of the ‘ward-system’ as it exists, let us briefly examine it in its relations to the wants and the treatment of the insane. Every day adds conviction to the impression, that the less the insane are treated as exceptional beings, the better is it both for their interests and for those who superintend them. In other words, the grand object to be kept in view when providing for the accommodation of the insane, is to assimilate their condition and the circumstances surrounding them as closely as possible to those of ordinary life. Now, though it is clearly impracticable to repeat all the conditions of existence prevailing in the homes of the poorer middle and pauper classes of society who constitute the inmates of our public asylums, when these persons are brought together to form a large community for their better treatment and management, yet we may say of the ‘ward-system,’ that it is about as wide a departure from those conditions as can well be conceived. It is an inversion of those social and domestic arrangements under which English people habitually live.
The new-comer into the asylum is ushered into a long passage or corridor, with a series of small doors on one side, and a row of peculiarly-constructed windows on the other; he finds himself mingled with a number of eccentric beings, pacing singly up and down the corridor, or perhaps collected in unsocial groups in a room opening out of it, or in a nondescript sort of space formed by a bulging-out of its wall at one spot, duly lighted, and furnished with tables, benches, and chairs, but withal not a room within the meaning of the term, and in the patient’s apprehension. Presently, he will be introduced through one of the many little doors around him into his single sleeping-room, or will find himself lodged in a dormitory with several others, and by degrees will learn that another little door admits him to a lavatory, another to a bath, another to a scullery or store-closet, another to a water-closet (with which probably he has never been before in such close relation), another to a sanctum sanctorum—the attendant’s room, within which he must not enter. Within this curiously constructed and arranged place he will discover his lot to be cast for all the purposes of life, excepting when out-door exercise or employment in a workroom calls him away: within it he will have to take his meals, to find his private occupation or amusement, or join in intercourse with his fellow-inmates, to take indoor exercise, and seek repose in sleep; he will breathe the same air, occupy the same space, and be surrounded by the same objects, night and day.