Extracts from
Dr. J .H. Stallard's report on Walsall Workhouse.
Published in The Lancet. November 9th,
1867
The male tramp ward is a narrow
barn-like building, only eight feet wide. Within it
is something like a hound kennel, though neither
half so clean or comfortable. It is paved with rough
brick, and there is a small window for ventilation
at the side. There are two wooden shelves across the
end, one above the other; the lower is three feet,
the other six feet from the ground, and on them the
unfortunate vagrants are supposed to sleep, under
cover of a dirty rug. The only accommodation is a
filthy-looking iron bucket sprinkled with carbolic
acid, and enclosed by the present master in a wooden
box. This ward, in the opinion of the medical
officer, is fitted to contain seven inmates, but the
average is much more, and on several occasions
twenty seven tramps have been locked in, without
food or light, or any means of communication with
the officers outside. Imagination cannot picture the
fearful pandemonium on such occasions, and we cannot
trust ourselves to comment on the continuance of
such a gross enormity for twenty years.
In the interval between these
two reports we find no hint recorded of imperfection
or complaint. When the yards were unpaved and the
privies had stinking cesspits; when the sick were
compelled to go to the receiving wards to get a
bath, and were scattered about the house, far
removed from their nurses; when the supply of linen
barely sufficed to afford a pair of sheets for every
bedstead, or a change for every inmate; when there
was not a cupboard in the wards, and the general
storeroom was not larger than a closet, the state of
the workhouse was still "reported satisfactory”.
No attention appears to have
been directed to the fact that sickness and
infirmity had completely occupied the place of
idleness, and that the workhouse from having been
the refuge of destitution and the lodging of
vagabonds, had become an infirmary for sick almost
from top to bottom. Not withstanding the change of
inmates, "the workhouse test" must be maintained,
and no deviation from the rules or dietary was or is
willingly permitted. Even the poor old women may not
smuggle in a teapot to make themselves a quiet cup
of tea; they must be contented with the workhouse
slops, which if anyone desire to try, let him pour
fourteen imperial pints of boiling water on an ounce
of tea at 1s. 8d. per lb., add 5 oz. of moist sugar,
and a little skim milk, and taste it if he can.
But the local authorities have
kindly hearts; they wink at the women's smuggled
teapot, and give tobacco to the men; they have made
the wards look cheerful; they have polished the
floors and painted the walls; they have put matting
between the beds and curtains to the windows, and,
at the instigation chiefly of the master and the
surgeon, they have attended to a variety of minor
matters, which show that more still would have been
done if only they had known how to do it.
From an old postcard.
Throughout the entire
establishment there is but a single wash handbasin,
and it was a mystery to the master how it came
there. The bedridden, the fever-stricken, the
venereal, the infected with itch, and the
convalescent, nay, even the infants in the nursery,
are washed in dirty-looking wooden buckets. Two
towels a week are given to a ward of ten patients;
and there are neither combs nor brushes given out to
any throughout the house. So little are the
essentials of cleanliness attended to that the male
nurse has but a single iron basin, which is used to
wash all wounds alike, to make poultices, and for
every office for which a basin is required.
The tidy appearance of the
wards is equally superficial and deceptive. The male
infirmary consists of seven wards, which are for the
most part 17ft. wide, and 9ft. or 10ft. high, with
opposite windows. They look light and clean. But the
beds are so close together that another could not
anywhere be placed, and there is scarcely space to
walk between them. There is, therefore, no room for
lockers. The ventilation is throughout defective,
and the water closets (where there are any) open
directly upon the wards. They are universally small
and badly ventilated, and stink abominably.
The fever ward contains 3978
cubic feet, and has nine beds. It is, therefore more
than twice too crowded. The classification is most
extraordinary, and shows the unfitness and
inadequacy of the building in the strongest light.
The female infirmaries, though
scrupulously clean and tidy looking, are even worse
than the male in all essential points. The wards are
generally crammed to the full with beds, the
ventilation is defective, and the water closets
equally objectionably, and even more unclean. An
acute case had just been admitted into No. 1 ward
from the school. The presence of four epileptics
would scarcely conduce to her quiet or recovery. As
there are no special wards, the imbeciles are
distributed amongst the sick and bedridden; a most
improper arrangement, which cannot be too strongly
condemned.
Before concluding, it is
necessary to make a few observations on the
condition of the children, a considerable number of
whom are confined in a separate ward on account of
skin disease. The schoolroom appeared to us close
and overcrowded, and both playgrounds are reported
by the surgeon damp and insufficient. The boys’
bedroom is also overcrowded. As there is no garden,
green vegetables are only exceptionally provided.
These circumstances would seem to account for the
obstinacy of skin complaints, and should be remedied
at once. If this be impossible, let the guardians
break up the school and distribute the children in
the villages around on the Scotch plan. They would
thus relieve their overcrowded house, and avoid the
necessity of the proposed extension.
In conclusion, the Walsall
Workhouse presents an example of cleanliness and
order calculated to deceive a superficial observer.
A closer inspection, however, reveals the absence of
all essentials for the proper treatment of the sick.
The wards are ill furnished, overcrowded, and for
the most part unfitted for their purpose. The
ventilation is defective and ill arranged. The
stinking closets open upon the wards, many of which
are not provided for at all. There are no baths, no
day rooms, and no airing ground. There is a shameful
deficiency of lavatories and washing apparatus.
There is no classification of the patients, who are
necessarily disturbed by imbeciles and epileptics.
There are no night nurses, and not sufficient paid
assistance to secure attention to so large a number,
the master being overwhelmed with accounts and other
duty. The surgeon is ill-paid, and the dispensing
arrangements are unsatisfactory in the extreme.
Indeed, we can only wonder that anyone could have
visited the wards without discovering causes of
complaint. |