Broadmoor Revealed_ Victorian Crime and the Lunatic Asylum - Mark Stevens [38]
There is no evidence that the medical staff at Broadmoor ever sought to follow up the fate of the children who had left their care. Any subsequent discovery was down purely to communication from outside. As it turned out, the Broadmoor babies had suffered differing fortunes. The poor law welfare system had intervened for three of them, which perhaps says something about the social class of woman likely to be found in the Asylum. Only two ended up being cared for by their own families.
For the babies that lived, by the time they arrived in adulthood they would have had no recollection of the place where they had spent their first few weeks of life. They would not recall the walls, the wards or company of lunatics. It is unlikely that they considered themselves to have been born in Crowthorne. The fact that the hospital had no further business with them meant that they were also free to make their own lives away from any taint or stigma. Their stories would remain separate from that of Broadmoor until now.
Escape from Broadmoor
‘Escape from Broadmoor’ is actually the title of a post-war British short, starring John Le Mesurier as the patient on the run. The film has nothing to do with the real-life Broadmoor, but the existence of the film title is good evidence of the fear that an escaped lunatic can cause to the wider community. This has been true of Broadmoor since it opened. Of course, whenever there is an element of coercion to keep people in one place, there will inevitably be some whose thoughts turn to being elsewhere. Victorian Broadmoor was not somewhere that most patients wished to make their home: it admitted them not by petition, but by the order of the courts or of the Home Secretary. So those domiciled in the Asylum were not necessarily willing guests, and most were sufficiently aware of their situation to object to it if they chose to do so. Some lunatics embraced this power more actively than others.
Victorian Broadmoor’s record on escapes has to be seen in context. The relevant comparison at the time was to Her Majesty’s prisons, or the county asylum network, and when this comparison was made, the new Criminal Lunatic Asylum had an enviable position. This was a fact that its Superintendents could parade before the Home Office when things did occasionally go wrong. The public perception of danger was always much greater than the reality, and eventually, Broadmoor’s record was exceptional. In hindsight, however, this was a hard won reputation after an eventful first decade of the Asylum’s life.
When Broadmoor opened in May 1863, everyone expected escapes to be attempted. Indeed, the site had been chosen so as to be reasonably close to London and the railways, but far enough away from other property that it would take an escaping lunatic sometime to find civilisation. Preparations for public protection were made onsite by barring the windows and erecting boundary walls. The staff lived mostly on the premises, and the patients were required to wear a uniform of blue clothing, marked on the lining with a crown and the Asylum’s name. There were strict rules about what items patients could have access to, and handover systems were in place for staff so that no patient should ever have the opportunity to escape. There was also cure, as well as prevention: shortly after Broadmoor had opened, the Asylum wrote to the Home Office asking for authorisation to pay reward money to anyone bringing back an escaped patient. The Home Office duly obliged, and suggested that they would be prepared to pay up to five pounds as a reward. Although these actions were essentially practical rather than strategic, they put on an impressive show of Victorian risk management in action, based on experiences in other custodial