Cheerfulness and tranquility: gardens in the Victorian asylum

Abstract

19th-century asylums provided inpatient treatment for patients thought to be suffering from a wide range of mental disorders. Institutions varied in size: Andrew Scull estimates that in 1827 the average asylum had 116 patients, but by 1890 that number had risen to 802. The length of stay also varied, with around half of patients staying for 12 months or less, according to one study by David Wright.In 1884, Mrs Capron, a relatively long-term patient at the private Abington Abbey Retreat in Northampton, wrote to the asylum's management committee: “When I came here nearly three years ago, I was told I should find nice gardens and grounds to walk in. I have always been accustomed to these pleasures and amusements and appreciate them. For the first year and a half the Gardens were open and I enjoyed them; but, for the last few months the Gardens have been kept closely locked, giving the surroundings a dismal and prison-like appearance, and very much interfering with the enjoyment of the peace.”This is a rare account of 19th-century asylum gardens written by a patient, which contains a lot of information. Mrs Capron is presumably a middle or upper class woman, as she implies that she was accustomed to enjoying a reasonably sized private garden. It is possible that she is a member of the Capron family who owned Southwick Hall in Northamptonshire, which would make her a member of the gentry.Large swathes of designed landscapes were a ubiquitous feature of 19th century asylum design. This essay will focus on the concept that such spaces were thought to engender both “cheerfulness” and “tranquility”. Mrs Capron, with a patient's perspective, felt that they encouraged tranquility, as she argued that the loss of access to the gardens interfered with her “enjoyment of the peace”. Unfortunately there does not seem to be a reference to this letter in the surviving archives relating to Abington Abbey Retreat, so the reason for the locking of the gardens and whether this was resolved has been lost. However, this letter was written only 7 years before the asylum finally closed its doors: perhaps it is indicative of other problems.The asylum superintendent at Abington Abbey at this time was Thomas Prichard. In 1860, he argued that “In each county, but with few exceptions, will now be found an Asylum, well built and well appointed, cheerfully situated, and surrounded by extensive and well-planned grounds and gardens for the use and recreation of the inmates.”This idea of a cheerful situation with extensive gardens seems to reflect what Mrs Capron expected and what she had access to, at least initially, at the retreat. Prichard goes on to say that “The old, dreary, walled-in airing courts, in which in former times the patients were accustomed for years to tramp to and fro like so many felons in a gaol, are now transformed into cheerful parterres, the flowers affording pleasing objects of contemplation.” Again this resonates with Mrs Capron's statement that the locked gardens gave the “surroundings a prison-like appearance”, which was something many mid-19th-century asylums sought to move away from.Prichard also wrote that: “…the care of the gardens being, in many instances entrusted to patients, serves as a double purpose–of affording wholesome occupation, and of promoting a tranquil and cheerful tone of thought. The operations of husbandry are largely carried out upon the asylum farm, and many acres of ground are profitably cultivated, both in an economical point of view and as a remedial and curative process.”Again the terms “cheerful” and “tranquil” are used in relation to the gardens. This is a theme throughout the period and relates to ideas regarding the regime of the asylum and how the institution itself, including its external facilities, was seen as a crucial part of the treatment. Mrs Capron's letter acts as a cautionary reminder that even when superintendents described the value of the gardens, and designed landscapes are evident on maps and in other visual sources, patients might not have had access to them.The mention of economics is also relevant. In particular, pauper asylums, which depended on funding from local ratepayers, were expected to be self-sustaining communities that produced and, sometimes even sold, their own food. This meant that estates included agricultural lands and patients, particularly able-bodied men, would be encouraged to undertake farming and gardening duties. This was seen as a therapeutic element as well as one of financial necessity.In institutions catering to a wealthier clientele, the gardens could afford to be more ornate. The heavily illustrated 1820s prospectus for Ticehurst Place in Sussex depicts a pagoda, aviary or pheasantry, moss house, Vineyard cottage, a fashionable Gothic Summerhouse, hermitage, bowling green, and a castellated summerhouse.The type of asylum that emerges in this period with its gardens and farms comes from a late 18th-century model. Moral therapy was an approach pioneered and popularised by Samuel Tuke at the York Retreat, York (opened in 1796). It can be briefly described as a mild regimen centred around the placement of the patient in a carefully designed environment, and one that tried to minimise the use of physical forms of restraint. This form of therapy led to the idea that the institution itself could play a part in the re-education of the patient and became so popular that, as Roy Porter stated, many 19th-century psychiatrists said that they “confidently expected the asylum itself to be therapeutic”.John Connolly, superintendent of the Middlesex County Asylum in Hanwell, believed that with the practice of moral management within the asylum: “Calmness will come; hope will revive; satisfaction will prevail. Some unmanageable tempers, some violent or sullen patients, there must always be; but much of the violence, much of the ill-humour, almost all the disposition to meditate mischievous or fatal revenge, or self-destruction will disappear… Cleanliness and decency will be maintained or restored; and despair itself will sometimes be found to give place to cheerfulness or secure tranquility.”Here we again have the dual aims of cheerfulness and tranquility. The idea of employment, entertainment, and amusement in the open air was particularly important in relation to the idea of moral treatment. According to the Lunacy Commissioners in 1847, “employment in agricultural labour and in gardening; and recreation in the open air, are most advantageous as they tend not only to occupy the mind but to improve the bodily strength and promote a healthy state of the natural functions.” They proposed the following rule for the government of lunatic asylums: that, during the day, the patients of both sexes be employed as much as practicable out of doors; the men in gardening and husbandry, the women in occupations suited to their ability; and that, as a principle in treatment, endeavours be continually used to occupy the minds of the patients, to induce them to take exercise in the open air, and to promote cheerfulness and happiness among them.The idea that tranquility and cheerfulness could be achieved through engagement with the land is related to the idea expressed by writers such as WAF Browne that agricultural workers were less likely to develop mental health problems. In one case at Fulbourn Hospital (previously Cambridgeshire County Asylum) the utilitarian seems to have been combined with the picturesque, to form petal-shaped beds for crops, clearly seen in an aerial photograph taken around 1927.Maximilian Jacobi described the gardens at the private asylum, Vanves, near Paris in 1841: “The views…from the windows, embrace flower-beds and shrubberies, beautiful landscapes, or the grand park…Whilst the range of view from the windows of the restless and maniacal patients is narrow and uniform, that from the windows of the melancholy patients is wide and variegated, surprising and delighting the eyes by the multitude of beautiful objects presented to it.” Here the garden design was adapted according to the symptoms of the patients looking on to them. It is also evident that the visual impact of just looking at something beautiful and to some extent natural was seen as having an effect on the mind—an idea very much in line with romantic sensibilities.These asylums with their extensive grounds and gardens were often built in a rural location on the edge of a town or city. This might not always have been a positive experience for the patient. Mabel Etchell, in her fictitious account, Ten Years in a Lunatic Asylum (a text which Chris Philo has convincingly argued was based on personal knowledge), described how “...the garden of Hygeria Lodge [the fictitious asylum] might in some respects be called itself a sepulchre, its high walls and dark foliage scarcely concealing the occupants within; who, amid its silence and seclusion, buried the hopes and joys of their former existence in one common grave, half-hidden in the leaves and flowers that grew upon its margin.” This is a much darker image of the asylum garden than the one projected by those in power. It acts as a reminder that even in the asylums designed for the wealthy, the Chinese galleries, cottage ornée, aviaries, moss houses, and other seductive elements of the picturesque garden had the potential to feel like a gilded prison.However, Mrs Capron evidently did find the gardens helpful to her state of mind, and missed them when they became inaccessible. Her response has parallels with studies conducted with service users in the late 20th century. In one interview by Diana Gittins, a female patient was asked to compare Severalls Hospital with the new acute unit, The Lakes, attached to Colchester General Hospital. She said that “the grounds at Severalls, they were safe, they were—there were places where you might catch the odd glimpse of beauty. I mean, there was more than the odd glimpse then, but when you're in that state, you only see the odd glimpse”.It seems that the landscape was one of the few elements of the old asylum regime that was still viewed with affection by the patients. Perhaps the feelings of cheerfulness and tranquility are ones that many of us still seek when we spend time in a garden or natural landscape. 19th-century asylums provided inpatient treatment for patients thought to be suffering from a wide range of mental disorders. Institutions varied in size: Andrew Scull estimates that in 1827 the average asylum had 116 patients, but by 1890 that number had risen to 802. The length of stay also varied, with around half of patients staying for 12 months or less, according to one study by David Wright. In 1884, Mrs Capron, a relatively long-term patient at the private Abington Abbey Retreat in Northampton, wrote to the asylum's management committee: “When I came here nearly three years ago, I was told I should find nice gardens and grounds to walk in. I have always been accustomed to these pleasures and amusements and appreciate them. For the first year and a half the Gardens were open and I enjoyed them; but, for the last few months the Gardens have been kept closely locked, giving the surroundings a dismal and prison-like appearance, and very much interfering with the enjoyment of the peace.” This is a rare account of 19th-century asylum gardens written by a patient, which contains a lot of information. Mrs Capron is presumably a middle or upper class woman, as she implies that she was accustomed to enjoying a reasonably sized private garden. It is possible that she is a member of the Capron family who owned Southwick Hall in Northamptonshire, which would make her a member of the gentry. Large swathes of designed landscapes were a ubiquitous feature of 19th century asylum design. This essay will focus on the concept that such spaces were thought to engender both “cheerfulness” and “tranquility”. Mrs Capron, with a patient's perspective, felt that they encouraged tranquility, as she argued that the loss of access to the gardens interfered with her “enjoyment of the peace”. Unfortunately there does not seem to be a reference to this letter in the surviving archives relating to Abington Abbey Retreat, so the reason for the locking of the gardens and whether this was resolved has been lost. However, this letter was written only 7 years before the asylum finally closed its doors: perhaps it is indicative of other problems. The asylum superintendent at Abington Abbey at this time was Thomas Prichard. In 1860, he argued that “In each county, but with few exceptions, will now be found an Asylum, well built and well appointed, cheerfully situated, and surrounded by extensive and well-planned grounds and gardens for the use and recreation of the inmates.” This idea of a cheerful situation with extensive gardens seems to reflect what Mrs Capron expected and what she had access to, at least initially, at the retreat. Prichard goes on to say that “The old, dreary, walled-in airing courts, in which in former times the patients were accustomed for years to tramp to and fro like so many felons in a gaol, are now transformed into cheerful parterres, the flowers affording pleasing objects of contemplation.” Again this resonates with Mrs Capron's statement that the locked gardens gave the “surroundings a prison-like appearance”, which was something many mid-19th-century asylums sought to move away from. Prichard also wrote that: “…the care of the gardens being, in many instances entrusted to patients, serves as a double purpose–of affording wholesome occupation, and of promoting a tranquil and cheerful tone of thought. The operations of husbandry are largely carried out upon the asylum farm, and many acres of ground are profitably cultivated, both in an economical point of view and as a remedial and curative process.” Again the terms “cheerful” and “tranquil” are used in relation to the gardens. This is a theme throughout the period and relates to ideas regarding the regime of the asylum and how the institution itself, including its external facilities, was seen as a crucial part of the treatment. Mrs Capron's letter acts as a cautionary reminder that even when superintendents described the value of the gardens, and designed landscapes are evident on maps and in other visual sources, patients might not have had access to them. The mention of economics is also relevant. In particular, pauper asylums, which depended on funding from local ratepayers, were expected to be self-sustaining communities that produced and, sometimes even sold, their own food. This meant that estates included agricultural lands and patients, particularly able-bodied men, would be encouraged to undertake farming and gardening duties. This was seen as a therapeutic element as well as one of financial necessity. In institutions catering to a wealthier clientele, the gardens could afford to be more ornate. The heavily illustrated 1820s prospectus for Ticehurst Place in Sussex depicts a pagoda, aviary or pheasantry, moss house, Vineyard cottage, a fashionable Gothic Summerhouse, hermitage, bowling green, and a castellated summerhouse. The type of asylum that emerges in this period with its gardens and farms comes from a late 18th-century model. Moral therapy was an approach pioneered and popularised by Samuel Tuke at the York Retreat, York (opened in 1796). It can be briefly described as a mild regimen centred around the placement of the patient in a carefully designed environment, and one that tried to minimise the use of physical forms of restraint. This form of therapy led to the idea that the institution itself could play a part in the re-education of the patient and became so popular that, as Roy Porter stated, many 19th-century psychiatrists said that they “confidently expected the asylum itself to be therapeutic”. John Connolly, superintendent of the Middlesex County Asylum in Hanwell, believed that with the practice of moral management within the asylum: “Calmness will come; hope will revive; satisfaction will prevail. Some unmanageable tempers, some violent or sullen patients, there must always be; but much of the violence, much of the ill-humour, almost all the disposition to meditate mischievous or fatal revenge, or self-destruction will disappear… Cleanliness and decency will be maintained or restored; and despair itself will sometimes be found to give place to cheerfulness or secure tranquility.” Here we again have the dual aims of cheerfulness and tranquility. The idea of employment, entertainment, and amusement in the open air was particularly important in relation to the idea of moral treatment. According to the Lunacy Commissioners in 1847, “employment in agricultural labour and in gardening; and recreation in the open air, are most advantageous as they tend not only to occupy the mind but to improve the bodily strength and promote a healthy state of the natural functions.” They proposed the following rule for the government of lunatic asylums: that, during the day, the patients of both sexes be employed as much as practicable out of doors; the men in gardening and husbandry, the women in occupations suited to their ability; and that, as a principle in treatment, endeavours be continually used to occupy the minds of the patients, to induce them to take exercise in the open air, and to promote cheerfulness and happiness among them. The idea that tranquility and cheerfulness could be achieved through engagement with the land is related to the idea expressed by writers such as WAF Browne that agricultural workers were less likely to develop mental health problems. In one case at Fulbourn Hospital (previously Cambridgeshire County Asylum) the utilitarian seems to have been combined with the picturesque, to form petal-shaped beds for crops, clearly seen in an aerial photograph taken around 1927. Maximilian Jacobi described the gardens at the private asylum, Vanves, near Paris in 1841: “The views…from the windows, embrace flower-beds and shrubberies, beautiful landscapes, or the grand park…Whilst the range of view from the windows of the restless and maniacal patients is narrow and uniform, that from the windows of the melancholy patients is wide and variegated, surprising and delighting the eyes by the multitude of beautiful objects presented to it.” Here the garden design was adapted according to the symptoms of the patients looking on to them. It is also evident that the visual impact of just looking at something beautiful and to some extent natural was seen as having an effect on the mind—an idea very much in line with romantic sensibilities. These asylums with their extensive grounds and gardens were often built in a rural location on the edge of a town or city. This might not always have been a positive experience for the patient. Mabel Etchell, in her fictitious account, Ten Years in a Lunatic Asylum (a text which Chris Philo has convincingly argued was based on personal knowledge), described how “...the garden of Hygeria Lodge [the fictitious asylum] might in some respects be called itself a sepulchre, its high walls and dark foliage scarcely concealing the occupants within; who, amid its silence and seclusion, buried the hopes and joys of their former existence in one common grave, half-hidden in the leaves and flowers that grew upon its margin.” This is a much darker image of the asylum garden than the one projected by those in power. It acts as a reminder that even in the asylums designed for the wealthy, the Chinese galleries, cottage ornée, aviaries, moss houses, and other seductive elements of the picturesque garden had the potential to feel like a gilded prison. However, Mrs Capron evidently did find the gardens helpful to her state of mind, and missed them when they became inaccessible. Her response has parallels with studies conducted with service users in the late 20th century. In one interview by Diana Gittins, a female patient was asked to compare Severalls Hospital with the new acute unit, The Lakes, attached to Colchester General Hospital. She said that “the grounds at Severalls, they were safe, they were—there were places where you might catch the odd glimpse of beauty. I mean, there was more than the odd glimpse then, but when you're in that state, you only see the odd glimpse”. It seems that the landscape was one of the few elements of the old asylum regime that was still viewed with affection by the patients. Perhaps the feelings of cheerfulness and tranquility are ones that many of us still seek when we spend time in a garden or natural landscape.