Looking at the histories of two institutions that closed recently gave cause to reflect on life today and the past’s influence, say Claire Jackson and the Hidden Lives Remembered volunteers
The two places whose history we researched were Middlefield Hospital, open from 1866 to 1992, and Hampton Manor, a residential home, which was open from 1952 to 2007.
For this article, we are going to focus on Middlefield Hospital. You can learn more about Hampton Manor at our website www.hiddenlivesremembered.com.
An institution, in this case, is a place where lots of people live together in the same building(s). They had usually been sent there for one of three reasons, and there was always a focus on making the people “better” in some way:
- To be cared for, like at a hospital – the goal was to make the person “better” from a condition
- To be trained and educated, like at a boarding school or university – the goal was to make the person a “better” member of society through gaining new skills
- To be kept away from the general public, like at a prison – the goal was to train the person to behave “better”. The aim was also to make society “better” by locking away a person who was seen as dangerous in some way.
Learning disability institutions aimed to do all of these three things. Many of them started out as private asylums, then they became institutes and last they were hospitals and part of the NHS. You can see this in how Middlefield Hospital changed its name over the years:
- Dorridge Grove (1866-1872), a small private asylum
- Midland Counties Idiot Asylum (1872-1901)
- Midland Counties Asylum (1901-1911)
- Midland Counties Institution (1911–1948)
- Middlefield Hall (1948-1959), taken over by the NHS
- Middlefield Hospital (1959-1992). People were sent to places like
Middlefield Hospital to make them “better” members of society, with the aim of them being eventually discharged back into the community.
Long-term institutions
Although some people did return to the community, many ended up living in these institutions for a very long time, if not most of their lives.
Some institutions housed more than 2,000 people. Middlefield was a lot smaller, with a maximum of 275 people – but that’s still a lot more than most people would wish to live with.
They were treated as patients and lived on wards but were disabled, not ill. The idea of a hospital is to make someone better from a condition, then they leave and go home. But you cannot cure learning disability – and nor should you have to. This meant that treating people with this medical model was never going to work, as the people would never be cured – and would potentially never leave.
A report in the 1960s on Middlefield Hospital said the length of time people had been living there ranged from a few weeks to 73 years.
For most of us, we live, go to school, go to work and socialise in different places with different people. There can be some overlap but we usually have a few different spaces and places where we feel we belong. We can call these “spheres of belonging”.
However, the residents lived, slept, went to school, went to work and socialised all in the same place, with the same people. They sometimes went out on holidays or trips, but their lives were mostly lived out within the institution’s walls, in a single sphere of belonging.
The wards were often low on staff, so the residents usually followed a set daily routine and received little personalised care or individual attention. They did not have a lot of personal opportunities and did not get much choice in what they wanted to do, where they wanted to go or even what they wanted to eat. They did the same as everyone else or they went without.
Moving out: pleasures and pitfalls
When the institutions started to close in the 1980s and the residents moved out into the community, some of them found it quite difficult.
Middlefield had built a training unit called Freshfields to help the residents learn the skills they would need, such as using money, cooking and cleaning, but most of us get to gain these skills over a lifetime, not just in a few months.
For some, suddenly having their own room after years of sleeping in a ward or even the idea of choice took some getting used to. They had many more opportunities but had not really been shown how to make the most of these.
The residents were also suddenly dispersed, and some went back to where they had originally come from, although they hadn’t lived there for many years, and old friendships forged in hospital were lost.
On the whole, however, moving into the community was a good thing. The former residents were able to start enjoying many of the freedoms and choices that most of us just take for granted. But, by this point, many of them were quite old, and nothing would ever be able to make up for the potential opportunities they had missed out on because they had lived their lives in an institution.
Albert Goodall had lived at Middlefield for nearly 70 years when he left in the early 1990s. He had moved there when he was only 10 years old.
He told a paper in 1992: “For the first time in my life, I can do things I want to do, and I like living with a lot less people.”
He was a very popular member of the community and lots of people came to his funeral when he passed away a couple of years later.
Hidden Lives Remembered
A fantastic group of volunteers have worked on this project, many of whom have a learning disability. They have had the chance to gain skills in archive research and doing oral history interviews, where we record history through asking people about their lives.
They have also been involved in public speaking, and a group of us went to the Open University’s Social History of Learning Disability Conference in July to talk about the project.
Hidden Lives Remembered and me: how the project affected our volunteers
Kathleen O’Bryan: Seeing pictures from Middlefield really got to me. The beds in the wards were really close together. There wasn’t much dignity. I didn’t get to study history because I went to a special school where it wasn’t taught. I had never been to an archive or done anything to do with heritage before, and I’ve loved this opportunity. I really enjoy interviewing people, and it has helped me build my confidence. My daughter has said she is really proud of me.
Keith Webb: I went to a dance at Middlefield in the 1980s. What I saw of it, I didn’t like. It was a bit dowdy. I’m glad it’s gone. When I was sick as a child, I had to stay in a hospital. If I was naughty or went for a wander, I was locked away. I still hate going to hospitals today because of that. I feel sad for these people who had to live in a hospital.
Mariza Webb: Before this project, I didn’t know that Middlefield existed. I wanted to learn about how people with learning disabilities used to live. I was shocked by how some people died young in institutions in the early days. I enjoyed being shown around the archives and seeing the different types of things that they have there.
Gilbert Moult: I knew of Middlefield before the project, but I didn’t know much about it. I was interested to learn more. I was shocked by how it used to be called an “idiot” institution. It’s probably a good thing that these places aren’t there any more, but some of the things that went on, like abuse by staff, are still happening today.
Colom Benham: I liked looking at the old photos and newspaper articles. One that stood out to me was about Christmas dinner at Middlefield in the 1970s. The catering manager was annoyed at the staff doing things their own way and binned their turkey! It showed that she had a lot of power and the staff didn’t always get along. I’ve enjoyed doing interviews and listening to people’s stories.
Jennifer Brown: Even though I have worked with and known people who lived in these institutions, I didn’t know much about them before the project. I was surprised by how little I knew about them, and that a lot of other people don’t know about them either. I strongly believe that the people who lived at Middlefield and Hampton Manor should never be forgotten, and we need to make their stories heard.
Hidden Lives Remembered is run by Solihull Action through Advocacy and is supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund
