York Asylum in Flames: Godfrey Higgins and the Abuse Scandal of 1813
Content warning: the following article includes details about mental health issues, as well as emotional and physical abuse.
A modern view of Bootham Park Hospital, historically York Insane Asylum. Carr’s design incorporates grand, luxurious columns which contrast with the brickwork’s simple stability
In the aftermath of the Grenfell Tower Inquiry, we look at another historic struggle to assign blame for shocking neglect and a deadly fire.
This post was written on 8 September 2024 by Amy Jones.
North of York Minster stands Bootham Park Hospital, an abandoned Grade I listed psychiatric hospital. Once York Insane Asylum, it has a troubled and complex history; intended to be a place of rest and safety for those struggling with what we today term mental illness, its reputation has long suffered from accusations of abuse and negligence. At the heart of its troubled story is one determined whistleblower who sought to expose the scandals within its walls, only for a mysterious fire to jeopardise his search for justice.
A Stable Home
The Asylum began life as an idea when 24 Yorkshire gentlemen were brought together by the Archbishop of York – along with Dr Alexander Hunter and architect John Carr – to create a place to prevent the mentally ill from being kept in unsuitable institutions, such as prisons and workhouses.[1] John Carr was a renowned architect, having designed Fairfax and Harewood Houses, as well as many prisons such as those at Lincoln and Wakefield. He had experience constructing buildings that combined the elegance of country houses and the practicality of penitentiaries.[2] His design for the York Asylum was completed by 1777, with Tuscan columns and Venetian windows, and was built to create an image of stability and luxury.[3]
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Having established their idea for a secure and safe home for those who struggled with mental illness, the governors began petitioning for funds. By 1773, £5,000 had been pledged, and Carr’s 54-bed hospital was approved. The building would be located just outside of the city, in a wide green space that would be transformed for purpose.[4] The first physician was Dr Alexander Hunter, the eldest son of a druggist who studied medicine in France and later achieved his doctorate from Edinburgh – a trusted man with exceptional credentials for his day.[5] The hospital wasn’t revolutionary in design, with small cells meant to hold those most vulnerable, but the gentlemen’s determination to engineer a space with a reputation for care and stability was crucial to the project. It catered to the poorest, with paupers paid for by the parish. It was also established partly as a place for technological and medical development. All in all, the York Asylum was intended to be formed as a legitimate, efficient venture.
Rocky Reputations
Initially, the Asylum seemed to work well, with 32 patients in 1783. The open grounds were intended to allow patients to relax and exercise. Carr’s design incorporated both efficient use of space and luxury elements to create an atmosphere of care and stability. In 1807, the Asylum was even commended for its “excellent management” by a Select Committee of the House of Commons.[6] However the standards soon began to slip, and the intentions of the gentlemen who established the Asylum were lost and would never be recovered.
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By the 1810s, less than thirty years after it opened its doors to those in need, scandals were beginning to taint its reputation. The conditions and abuse that the Asylum was accused of had been appearing before the 1800s, but now became increasingly persistent. One case had already become infamous. In 1790, Hannah Mills, a widowed Quaker from Leeds, died after only six weeks in the Asylum. Local York Quakers, including the Tuke family, were refused access to her. They theorised that she had been abused, as many other residents were before their deaths. Despite the lack of evidence, the York Quakers were determined to provide a solution to the situation at the Asylum. Subsequently, the family established the Retreat in 1796, a successful and pioneering facility for moral mental health treatment.[7] Evidently, the Asylum had a reputation amongst the York population even before Godfrey Higgins’ investigation.
William Tuke, etching by C. Callet. A prominent Quaker, the Tuke family established the rival Retreat after Hannah Mills’ death in 1790.
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Godfrey Higgins: York Asylum’s Hero?
Higgins was a Justice of the Peace for West Riding and embarked on a mission to reveal the truth about York Asylum after a woman expressed her concern about the treatment of her husband, William Vickers. He named the study that would follow “absolutely necessary to the cause of justice,” and had no doubt that his investigation could prove of monumental importance to the future of health treatment.[8] Rumours had swirled around the Asylum for years, and Higgins had heard reports of friends who had to wait an hour before being permitted to see patients. However, what he was to witness would prove worse than anyone imagined. He took a trip to York, intending to visit Vickers. But Higgins found him emaciated and weak, having been whipped and left uncleaned to suffer from “the itch” (likely scabs, insect bites or burns).[9] Higgins’ next destination was the physician, but neither he nor any of the governors could be found.[10] He suspected that the planned visit had given them time to hide, and so he left, only to return later unprompted to catch the keepers off guard.
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A miniature of Godfrey Higgins. Born and raised in Yorkshire, he became a dominant Justice of the Peace, determined to raise awareness of the Asylum’s scandals.
This second technique proved more fruitful. Upon revisiting the Asylum, Higgins found that there were regularly 10 or more people crammed into small cells (one was just 8 ½ ft sq.), with beds made from straw, walls and floors smeared with excrement, and no windows to make the space dark when shut.[11] But this was not all that Higgins discovered. He began to uncover stories of those who had been physically abused, or worse, killed. Martha Kidd had been returned home with a dislocated hip, Reverend Skorey had been kicked down a flight of stairs, and a man named Thirkwell sadly lost his life after his brains had been dashed out.[12] More deaths had been hidden; the records did not match the number of bodies Higgins found in the graveyard, and in some cases families had not been informed of their loved ones’ deaths.
​Higgins was astonished by the standards at the Asylum; a self-proclaimed centre of stability and care had rapidly been transformed into an abusive and deadly prison. The money donated with intentions of treating the seriously ill had instead been spent frivolously on “nonsensical architecture ornaments”.[13]
The Asylum in Flames
Desperate to make a change, Higgins wrote many letters to justices and officials around York, calling for an investigation into the Asylum. The general reaction to his campaigning was outrage and denial, with many members of the governing board blaming Higgins’ reporting for their bad reputation, not the acts themselves. Nevertheless, a meeting was called on 2 December 1813 to examine his accusations. Suspiciously, a fire broke out before further assessments could be made, destroying a wing of the Asylum containing all of its records, and killing four patients.[14] There have been persistent suggestions over the years that the fire had been purposeful; however, this has never been proven. The 1813 fire continues to be the core of many accusations against the Asylum, evidence of its longstanding abuse and negligence.
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The investigation persisted, but with little evidence; Higgins’ report formed much of the case. It was, as he predicted, crucial to seeking justice for those who had tragically lost their lives whilst seeking care. Further assessments were made, and it was found the monthly inspection had been discontinued as early as 1794, almost 20 years before Higgins’ visit.[15] The keepers who could be tracked down were put under oath. Vickers’ claimed he had a fire, nutritious food and ale, and extensive medical treatment during his stay, even though Higgins’ report proved otherwise.[16] Ultimately, despite Higgins’ best attempts to pursue justice and consequences for the Asylum, the medical doctor Dr Best was never charged with fraud, or with lighting the fire but instead was forced to retire due to “ill health”.[17]
A Fight for Justice
Godfrey Higgins had come this far, and he persisted in spreading the truth about the Asylum, even appealing to George Rose, the Chairman of the Select Committee on Madhouses in Parliament.[18] Despite his best efforts, little reform was implemented at York Asylum, with mental health treatments generally remaining the same standard throughout the 19th century. Even the aforementioned Retreat, which had been established as a pioneering location for moral treatment, would begin to mistreat its patients as the Asylum had.
Whilst the history of York Asylum may appear distant and redundant in the modern age of the internet, therapy and health advocacy, this is not the case. With the rise of mental health awareness and the ever-growing interest in looking after ourselves and each other, it is crucial to remember those who lost their lives struggling with issues that we continue to face. We must also remember those whose lives acted as a sacrifice in the search for the better treatment that they were equally deserving of as we currently are. By highlighting and bringing the topic of historic mental health to the foreground, the past becomes not so unreachable; those who have suffered are, as we are, human.
Engraving of the original Retreat 1792. Here we can see the architectural similarities to the York Asylum, despite their differing treatment styles.
Written by Amy Jones
This article was originally published on the research blog of Uncomfortable Oxford​.
To learn more about the successes and failures of charity in 19th century York, you can read our article on King’s Manor and the School for the Blind established there. You can also join us for a York Uncovered tour, which tells more overlooked stories of scandal from the city’s past. Meanwhile, in Oxford, our History of Medicine tour tackles the topics of abuse and reform within the healthcare system in even greater detail.
References
[1] History of York, Bootham Park Hospital (formerly York Lunatic Asylum), http://www.historyofyork.org.uk/themes/georgian-architecture/bootham-park-hospital-formerly-york-lunatic-asylum; Lewis, Stephen, A History of Bootham Park Hospital, York Press, 23rd March 2023, https://www.yorkpress.co.uk/news/23407718.history-bootham-park-hospital-york.
[2] History of York, Bootham Park Hospital (formerly York Lunatic Asylum).
[3] History of York, Bootham Park Hospital (formerly York Lunatic Asylum).
[4] Lewis, Stephen, A History of Bootham Park Hospital, York Press.
[5] Digby, Anne, ‘Changes in the Asylum: The Case of York, 1777-1815’, The Economic History Review 36, no. 2 (1983): 227.
[6] Ibid., 219.
[7] You can read more about Hannah’s story in my original research: HERStory.York, University Partnership, https://www.herstoryyork.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/Hannah-Mills.pdf.
[8] Higgins, Godfrey, A Letter to the Right Honourable Earl Fitzwilliam: Respecting the Investigation Which Has Lately Taken Place, Into the Abuses at the York Lunatic Asylum (Doncaster: W. Sheardown, 1814), 1.
[9] Ibid., 6
[10] Ibid., 5.
[11] Ibid., 14.
[12] Ibid., 9-11.
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[13] Ibid., 4.
[14] Alexandra Medcalf, The York Lunatic Asylum Scandal, Borthwick Institute Blog, 10th Oct 2014, https://borthwickinstitute.blogspot.com/search?q=hannah+mills.
[15] Digby, Anne, ‘Changes in the Asylum: The Case of York, 1777-1815’, 226.
[16] Higgins, Godfrey, A Letter to the Right Honourable Earl Fitzwilliam, 53.
[17] Alexandra Medcalf, The York Lunatic Asylum Scandal, Borthwick Institute Blog.
[18] Ibid.,