David Hirst
email: j.d.hirst@bangor.ac.uk

Keywords: asylums, England, Haydock Lodge, mixed economy of welfare, Poor Law, Wales

In June 1846 complaints about the treatment of a Welsh clergyman at the privately run Haydock Lodge Asylum in England heralded a series of allegations about maltreatment of pauper patients at the institution. These prompted a number of Parliamentary reports on the institution. Allegations were also made about connections between the asylum and officials at the Poor Law Commission. This article demonstrates that many of the problems at Haydock Lodge relate to the character and personal circumstances of its first Superintendent, Charles Mott, a former Assistant Poor Law Commissioner. Despite this specific causation, the Haydock Lodge affair had a more general influence in raising once again questions about the propriety of entrusting the care of publicly funded patients to private institutions.

Introduction

In June 1846 Dr O. O. Roberts, a Welsh GP, a political radical and longstanding critic of both secular and ecclesiastical authorities (see Owen, 1949;[START_REF] Price | Biographical Index of W. W. Price[END_REF], petitioned Parliament about the treatment of one of his patients, Rev. Evan Richards, an Anglican clergyman, during his stay at the Haydock Lodge Lunatic Asylum [START_REF] Roberts | Petition to the House of Commons relating to untoward proceedings at the Haydock Lodge Lunatic Asylum[END_REF]; this was a private institution located between Liverpool and Manchester, in north-west England. Inquiries subsequently broadened to cover general allegations of maltreatment of patients and high death rates at the asylum (British Parliamentary Papers [hereafter BPP], 1846b[hereafter BPP], , 1847;;Parl. Debates, 1846b).

The allegations about Haydock Lodge impinged both on matters of policy and on personal affairs. The Times referred to both aspects of the controversy in an editorial on 28 August 1846. First, and most directly, it drew attention to what it saw as the inherent contradiction between the public duty of care owed to the insane poor, and the profit motive underlying privately owned institutions. Running a private lunatic asylum is a ticklish sort of affair. Lunatics . . . ought to be tenderly and skilfully treated. . . . When the asylum is a private establishment, unhappily the object of the speculation seems at variance with the interests of the patient. (The Times, 1846d)

The Times was, however, hinting obliquely at a second aspect of the affair. Haydock Lodge was alleged to have been 'established as a joint speculation by parties directly and officially connected with the Poor Law Commission' [START_REF] Roberts | Petition to the House of Commons relating to untoward proceedings at the Haydock Lodge Lunatic Asylum[END_REF]. Charles Mott, the Superintendent, had actually left the Poor Law Commission in 1842 (Public Record Office [hereafter PRO], 1841), but the financial investment in the asylum had been made by George Coode, an Assistant Secretary to the Commission, and members of his family. After the scandal became public, Coode was required to resign from his post (Parl. Debates, 1846a). Abuse of office was thus the second underlying theme. As The Times (1846d) put it: 'no asylum ever had started under such auspices, with such complete and immediate success'.

Haydock Lodge was a Victorian example of the mixed economy of welfare, in which public funds paid for the maintenance of patients in private institutions. It catered for some private patients, together with a much larger number of pauper lunatics sent by Poor Law authorities. Admitting its first patients in 1844, it expanded rapidly, holding 447 patients (42 private; 405 paupers) by November 1845 (BPP, 1847). Most private institutions of a comparable size and mix of patients were in London -Peckham House (48 private; 203 paupers in 1844), Hoxton House (81; 315) and the Warburton's asylums at Bethnal Green (226;336). Most provincial houses with both private and pauper patients were smaller, examples being the Fairford Retreat, Gloucestershire (21; 119), and Belle Vue House, Wiltshire (8; 148) (BPP, 1844b).

These private institutions thrived through a combination of an overall shortage of asylum beds, charges competitive with those for 'out of county' residents of the county asylums, and the rivalry between boroughs and counties which characterized English local government [START_REF] Philo | Journey to asylum -a medical-geographical idea in historical context[END_REF]. Those connected with Haydock Lodge hoped to profit from these factors, particularly the lack of capacity in the existing public asylums in the northwest of England, and local disagreements in north Wales about the need for public asylums at all.

The published sources already mentioned and unpublished files in the Public Record Office 1 make the Haydock Lodge affair one of the best documented scandals of Victorian lunacy. They have been drawn upon extensively by a number of authors discussing nineteenth-century asylums (see, e.g., Mellett, 1982: 113-16;Parry-Jones, 1972: 277-80). This article suggests that Haydock Lodge can only be fully understood by reference to a wider spectrum of archival material relating to the background, character and personal circumstances of one of its key figures, the original manager of the asylum and former Assistant Poor Law Commissioner, Charles Mott. Mott had an earlier association with private madhouses catering for paupers, having previously been joint proprietor of the Peckham House Asylum in Southwark (BPP, 1830-31;Harpton Court Papers [hereafter HCP], 1841c). A study of his career thus contributes also to an understanding of the economics of 'hybrid' public/private asylums. Despite the growth in asylum studies (for reviews, see Scull, 1993a[START_REF] Scull | A quarter century of the history of psychiatry[END_REF], relatively little has been written on these hybrid institutions, either individually or generically (but see Murphy, 2001a[START_REF] Murphy | Mad farming in the metropolis. Part 2: The administration of the old poor law of insanity in the City and East London 1800-1834[END_REF][START_REF] Parry-Jones | The Trade in Lunacy: A Study of Private Madhouses in England in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries[END_REF]).

Mott's early career

The Assistant Poor Law Commissioners have been described as 'the most rural and aristocratic colony of any of the new departments' (Roberts, 1960: 154-5). Many were Justices of the Peace, three were brothers of peers, five were baronets, and four others appeared in Burke's Landed Gentry. Virtually all the others came from comfortable family circumstances, with a military or professional background. In this milieu, breeding counted. There were only two exceptions: Edward Gulson, a Quaker fellmonger (i.e., a dealer in animal skins and hides) from Coventry and Charles Mott. Mott was 'a poor boy that was born in Loughton' (HCP, 1841b) in Essex. His father 'had a large family' (HCP, 1841c), and the parish registers of Loughton record Charles Mott's baptism on 28 August 1788, the tenth of eleven children of John Mott and his wife Ann, née Hewes (Essex Record Office, 1732-1812;1755-1812). His father was an innkeeper (Essex Record Office, 1772-9). Mott was fortunate to obtain a presentation to attend Christ's Hospital, the Bluecoat School (HCP, 1841c), which he left on 1 October 1803, discharged by his father who undertook to find him a master. 2 He was apprenticed first to a firm of sugar brokers and then to Baring, Mair & Co., commission agents and insurance brokers. It was here that he might have acquired the skills of persuasive salesmanship so evident in his later career. He then set up in business on his own, claiming later that he 'lived at Limehouse in credit and respectability for nine years' (HCP, 1841c).

He had, however, acquired enemies. One anonymous letter to the Poor Law Commissioners accused Mott of being sacked by Baring and living 'by the industry of his wife'. The writer then alleged:

Having furnished a House he became Master of Ceremonies at several [indistinct: [sail] lofts?] where male and female meet indiscriminately for Music and Dancing, at which place he got acquainted with a Common Woman who was receiving 3s 6d a week from the Parish of St Annes Limehouse for the support of a Bastard child, a boy, but he introduced her to his wife as the Widow of the Mate of a Ship with two fatherless children. After a time his poor wife found that he and his whore had a house in Burgat[?] Lane, St George's in the East, for the acception of young girls for Prostitution . . . (HCP, 1841b).

Allegedly Mott subsequently left his wife and attempted to have her committed to his own asylum. This might all be dismissed as malicious gossip, but the allegations about his marriage clearly held some truth. In his response Mott vehemently denied the more lurid allegations, but noted 'with my unfortunate private connection the Board is already acquainted and I think it will not be necessary for me to allude further to those circumstances' (HCP, 1841c).

Further evidence of Mott's domestic arrangements comes from the baptisms of seven of his children at St Giles, Camberwell, the parish church for his residence at Forest Hill. The first four of these were recorded between October 1826 and October 1829, the children of Charles Mott and Mary. The last three, born at intervals from 1833, were all baptized together in August 1836, this time recorded as the children of Charles Mott and Mary Stanbury. This suggests some embarrassment at seeking baptism, and an indication that the two parents were not married (London Metropolitan Archives, 1824-9, 1829-34, 1834-9).

Mott was then 'attracted to the subject of the maintenance and employment of the Poor' (HCP, 1841c). In the early 1820s, he obtained the contract to manage the Poor Law for the Parish of Newington, Surrey (BPP, 1837-38). This was renewed annually for ten years 'until I relinquished it for the large and more important one of Lambeth' (HCP, 1841c). He was simultaneously contractor for the Parish of Alverstoke in Hampshire, which included Gosport (BPP, 1834c). Here the inmates of the Poor House were 'farmed for their maintenance at 2s 8d weekly', according to Captain Pringle, the Assistant Commissioner. As part of the arrangement with the parish, Mott benefited from their labour, though in this case it amounted only to the production of sacking and other items. Pringle argued that the potential to profit inherent in the contracting system provided an incentive to retain the able-bodied in the workhouse (BPP, 1834b).

Apart from the Poor Law contracts, Mott acquired other business interests. He had an interest in the Ratcliffe Brewery 'for a partnership to take the management of it, and for which purpose I had advanced considerable sums of money' and was also 'principal proprietor and Owner of one half of the Peckham Lunatic Establishment which I had myself funded at great cost and trouble. There were 300 Patients in the Asylum and the profits were nearly £4,000 p. year' (HCP, 1841c).

Mott's ownership of the asylum brought further opportunities to bridge the gap between public and private care. As Captain Pringle reported: 'Lunatics [in Alverstoke] are sent to an asylum at Peckam [sic] which belongs to the person who farms the house; the charge is 10s 6d a week each' (BPP, 1834b). At Lambeth also lunatics were allegedly switched to his own asylum. Until then Lambeth always sent their Insane to Sir Jon. Miles MadHouse, Hoxton Old Town, London, but when Mott became Guardian they were all taken away and sent to Peckham House -his Asylum -and I dare say the owners of Miles House would speak of this fact. (PRO, 1846b: 73) While Peckham Asylum is less well documented than Haydock Lodge, some commonalties are apparent which indicate that Mott was already aware of ways to maximize profits. In addition to the charge to the Poor Law authorities, Mott benefited more directly from the presence of the lunatics, for he 'has also a very large house and farm nearly adjoining Peckham House and the Keepers and Patients when the hay was about always went and assisted and also at other busy times' (PRO, 1846b: 73). Surviving records of visits by Metropolitan Commissioners in Lunacy during 1829 and 1830 (PRO, 1830-31) contain other criticisms that would later be replicated at Haydock Lodge. These include complaints about both the quality and sufficiency of the food: 'The meat, cheese, butter and small beer all seem to be of an inferior quality and we trust an improvement may take place with regard to them'. The Commissioners hinted that the public policies of the asylum were not matched by the actuality, noting that as 'Messrs Mott and Co. have a scale of diet prepared for the inspection of those who place patients in their house, [we] expect that scale to be fully complied with both as regard quality and quantity'. They also disapproved 'of one day only in each week being allotted to the visits of the friends of the pauper patients'. In May 1830 the Commissioners threatened to remove the asylum licence unless the food was improved and visits from relatives and friends allowed more frequently. When the Commissioners next visited on 11 July 1830, the provisions were declared wholesome, and it was reported that the pauper patients were being visited more often.

The link with Peckham was recalled by critics long after Mott said his association with the asylum had ceased. O. O. Roberts (The Times, 1846e) quoted the 1844 Report of the Metropolitan Commissioners, which noted that 'Peckham Asylum … has been a source of trouble to us on the subject of diet. It has on several occasions been specially visited on this account, and frequent remonstrances have been made.' Now, continued Roberts, I should like to know who the proprietors and managers of this establishment were between the years 1836 and 1842, and whether or not there was a farm appertaining to it on which the patients were employed; and if so, the name of the owner, or occupier, of that farm?

Mott's business activities as Poor Law contractor and asylum owner allowed him to live in some style. By his own account (HCP, 1841c), immediately before he joined the Poor Law Commission, Mott's returns from my various engagements were £50,000 per annum and at the time I joined the Poor Law Commission the following was my position [:] I lived in my own Freehold House at Forest Hill which cost me £2,500. I kept my carriage and a suitable establishment.

The reform of the Poor Law was to end Mott's contracts, but his association with the system continued. He criticized the Old Poor Law in a letter to Lord Brougham, the Lord Chancellor, in which he proposed a plain, uniform, coarse diet throughout England 'sufficient to keep the body in good health, but devoid of any expensive articles of food now given in most workhouses.' He also suggested the abolition of cash relief, and some differentiation between the classes of inmate in the workhouse, rather than the prevailing system in which 'young, idle, dissolute paupers' get the same as the 'old and deserving poor' (Brougham Papers, 1832). These views were largely in sympathy with those of the Poor Law Commissioners. Interviewed by Edwin Chadwick, his opinions were extensively quoted in an Appendix to the Report of the Royal Commission on the Poor Laws (BPP, 1834c). The Report itself contained an adulatory reference to him as 'a witness of the most extensive practical experience of any witness examined under this Commission' (BPP, 1834a: 173). It is therefore not surprising that he was offered one of the posts as Assistant Poor Law Commissioner. However, this meant a change in his economic fortunes. As an Assistant Commissioner he received £700 plus expenses (BPP, 1846c), but as a Government servant he was required to relinquish any external commercial activities. Mott claimed he at first believed that 'I could retain my interest in the Lunatic Asylum and the Brewery' when he took on the appointment (HCP, 1841c). He subsequently sold his interest in Peckham House, which was said to be worth £20,000 (HCP, 1841a), though divesting himself of all his external interests proved difficult. As subsequent legal action was to reveal, the investment in the brewery had proved particularly problematic and costly (Chadwick Papers, 1836).

Assistant Poor Law Commissioner

Mott stood out from the other Assistant Commissioners, not only by virtue of his unorthodox domestic arrangements, but also through his relatively humble origins and his background in trade, rather than aristocratic descent or professional occupation. The differences sometimes grated, as one of Mott's letters to Chadwick indicates: If to want money -which is occasionally the lot of all Tradesmen is to be considered a crime, I must freely plead guilty, for I commenced my career without any . . . if the length of pocket, and extent of credit are to form the tests of qualification of those employed by the Commissioners, I must submit and if I cannot boast of hereditary property, or large independent fortune I am still not destitute, and I can easily prove that in pecuniary matters I have not been made better by my connection with the Commissioners. (Chadwick Papers, 1836) Despite or perhaps because of these characteristics, he was an effective Assistant Commissioner. After working in London, he was later given responsibilities covering Lancashire and Yorkshire, where the opposition to the imposition of the New Poor Law was strong (see [START_REF] Edsall | The Anti-Poor Law Movement[END_REF][START_REF] Knott | Popular Opposition to the 1834 Poor Law[END_REF]. By his own account, he appears to have dealt pragmatically with this opposition, discussing issues with Radical and Chartist leaders when necessary (PRO, 1843). His standing with opponents of the Poor Law was, however, undermined by his involvement in two key controversies.

The first of these arose from events at Bolton. In August 1841 the local MP, Dr Bowring, made allegations about three cases of severe distress in the Bolton area (Parl. Debates, 1841a). Mott was the Assistant Poor Law Commissioner sent up to investigate (Ferrand, 1844: 5). Although he allegedly refused to see key witnesses, his report was subsequently used by the Home Secretary, Sir James Graham, to discredit Bowring's allegations during another Commons debate on the matter (Parl. Debates, 1841b; see Ferrand, 1844: 5-7).

Mott then performed a similar task at Keighley, where the Poor Law Commissioner, George Cornewall Lewis, had told him:

It has been represented, in a confidential manner to the Commissioners that great abuses with respect to the payment of wages out of the rates exist in the Keighley Union. It has been stated to them that the Manufacturers in the Board combine for the purpose of lowering the wages of their workpeople, & making them up from the rates which are mainly levied upon the agricultural classes.

I should be glad if you would take an early opportunity of visiting this Union, & inquiring into the system of relief practised there, without creating suspicion, or assuming the appearance of making a special investigation, and I sh [oul] A further letter stressed it was desirable that the report should be public (HCP, 1842b), but the Keighley inquiry remained unpublished until it was also used by Graham, during a debate, to discredit one of his most persistent critics, W. B. Ferrand, the MP for Knaresborough (Parl. Debates, 1842a). The subsequent furore resulted in an enquiry by a Commons Select Committee which exonerated Ferrand from the charges laid against him by Graham; these were held to be the responsibility of the previous Board of Guardians (BPP, 1842). However, to Ferrand's dislike of the Poor Law the episode added a personal hatred of Graham, Cornewall Lewis and Mott, evident in the vituperative pamphlet he then published [START_REF] Ferrand | The Great Mott Question, or the Mystery Unveiled in a Letter to Sir James Graham[END_REF].

Mott's appointment as an Assistant Poor Law Commissioner was ended in 1842, ostensibly because of a reduction in the permitted number of appointments from ten to nine (PRO, 1841). This does not explain the process by which Mott was selected from the existing Assistant Commissioners for redundancy and, when later pressed for an explanation, Cornewall Lewis failed to give a clear answer (see BPP, 1846b). Ferrand thought Mott had been dismissed to silence him, alleging that 'by his [Mott's] dismissal, he ceased to be a public officer, and was placed, by the parties who "dismissed" him, beyond my power of calling him to the Bar of the House of Commons' (Ferrand, 1844: 28). Ferrand also claimed that although no longer an officer of the Poor Law Commission, Mott continued to be favoured by them. There is evidence that Mott also felt that the Commissioners and the Home Secretary owed him some support. In a long valediction noting the various supportive motions by Boards of Guardians and others, Mott listed numerous incidents of verbal abuse and threatened physical violence he suffered while labouring to implement the 1834 Act. He concluded by suggesting that he was owed some loyalty by the Commission, and sought their support for a publishing venture (PRO, 1843). Mott became 'editor of . . . the Poor Law Guide, edited in London, Bradbury and Evans, published by Mr Oswhyn' in March 1843 (Parl. Debates, 1846a). This was apparently unsuccessful, and ceased publication in December 1843 (British Union Catalogue of Periodicals, 1955-58).

Again, this aroused Ferrand's suspicions. In an appendix to his pamphlet, he printed Mott's prospectus for his proposed publication, dated 30 November 1842 (Ferrand, 1844: 33-5), claiming, wrongly, that it showed that the Longport Poor Law Union, of which Sir James Graham was a member, had been advised that subscriptions to such publications were an allowable expense. Here Ferrand was in error; as Sir James Graham explained, Longport Union had been allowed to subscribe to a different publication entirely, and Mott had simply implied that his own publication would be covered by this dispensation (Parl. Debates, 1846a).

From all of this evidence, three things are clear. First, for a vocal and embittered group of opponents of the New Poor Law, Charles Mott was seen not merely as an average official doing his duty under a detested system, but as someone willing to work actively to discredit them and thus serve the political ends of the Home Secretary and the Poor Law Commissioners. Second, this same group believed that Mott had ultimately been sacrificed to safeguard the political career of Sir James Graham and that, consequently, the Poor Law Commissioners and the Home Secretary retained a sense of obligation to their former servant for the efforts he had made on their behalf. Official approval for, or at least support of, Mott's venture into publishing was regarded as an indication of this. Finally, from the lengthy valediction which Mott himself wrote to the Poor Law Commissioners after he had left the Commission, there is the same sense that he too considered that they had some obligation towards him. That there might be substance to this is suggested by the employment of Mott's son in a situation where patronage secured appointment. His putative eldest child, Henry Mott, first appears in the Imperial Calendar for 1845 as a fifth-class clerk in the office of the Poor Law Commissioners (British Imperial Calendar, 1845). His presence was noted by the anonymous complainant to the Poor Law Commission: '. . . can you believe the eldest Bastard is now receiving Two Hundred pounds a year and that in the false name of Henry Mott?' (HCP, 1841b). Henry Mott was to remain with the Poor Law Commission until 1869, when he had reached the position of second-class clerk (British Imperial Calendar, 1869)

Opening Haydock Lodge

Mott was clearly in financially straitened circumstances after his contracts ended with the introduction of the New Poor Law and he withdrew from his other business interests, following his appointment as Assistant Poor Law Commissioner. His salary did not compensate, and when this was lost and his journal failed he had no source of income. At this point, he saw an opportunity to profit from his previous experience. The political climate was clearly pointing towards an expansion of provision for pauper lunatics, as indicated by Parliamentary debates (1844) and the 1844 Report of the Metropolitan Commissioners (BPP, 1844a). Although the 1845 Asylums Act emphasized the need for public asylums (Public General Acts and Measures, 1845), the opportunity remained for entrepreneurs to offer private provision. In the large industrial counties of Lancashire and Yorkshire, the existing county asylums were 'crowded to their utmost limits' (BPP, 1847: 3) and public accommodation for the numbers of the insane confined in workhouses would not be provided quickly. In north Wales, moreover, disagreement between the county justices meant that no progress was being made in providing asylum accommodation [START_REF] Michael | Care and Treatment of the Mentally Ill in North Wales 1800-2000[END_REF]. In this context, a private asylum for pauper lunatics could be a profitable option. Without money, however, Mott could not proceed, and he therefore approached a contact with family money to hand. This was George Coode, a younger man, a lawyer and one of the Assistant Secretaries to the Poor Law Commission. Although Parry-Jones (1972: 278) says the two men were related, there is no evidence that this is the case: Coode stated the two men had not met before they became acquainted through their work for the Poor Law Commission (PRO, 1846d: 186). Mott had identified Haydock Lodge as a potential site for a private asylum and put the idea to Coode, who claimed he was not at first inclined to join. Coode did have some sympathy with Mott's apparent destitution, but was aware that Mott's financial affairs were in such disarray that simply lending the money would be risky.

As Coode explained, Mott had before he was an Assistant Commissioner successfully established a Licensed house for the acceptance of Lunatics. He was sanguine in his hope that he would be able to make another successful establishment and to introduce a greatly amended treatment in the management of the insane. I was inclined to assist him as well in his private as in his public object, but could not on account of the involvement of his pecuniary affairs lend him money with any safety. (HCP, 1846a)

Coode's problem was that, as a public servant, he was subject to the same restrictions that had caused difficulties for Mott, and could not therefore be associated directly with a commercial undertaking. During the various inquiries into Haydock Lodge, Coode maintained that his role was largely a passive one, acting as agent for family members who were the actual investors. However, he was finally to admit that from the outset his involvement was active and substantial. After speaking to Mott he went to Liverpool and, even before consulting family investors, on 'seeing Haydock I was struck with its advantages and immediately entered negotiation with [the owner] Mr Legh's agent.' The negotiations were successful, and Coode found himself with a verbal agreement for possession of the house (PRO, 1846d: 186).

Coode then sent a long memorandum to his fellow, and junior, Assistant Secretary, William Lumley, seeking your opinion whether there is any legal objection to my entering into the whole, or any part of the following arrangements. . . . Bearing in mind that I am Assistant Secretary to the Poor Law Commissioners I request your attention to the 51st Sec of the 4 & 5 W m 4, C. 76, and to the 55 Geo 3 C. 137 there referred to . . . (HCP, 1846a) Lumley replied cautiously, saying that as long as there was no suspicion that Coode was obtaining a share of the profits from the enterprise, he did not think the legislation would apply (HCP, 1846a). Coode claimed that he had no interest in the asylum except as lessee of the property. His sister, the licensed proprietor, was to be sub-lessee of the house, together with some 60 acres, paying Coode rent plus a further sum to cover the cost of alterations required to make the establishment fit for use as an asylum. Mott was to be the Resident Superintendent 'so as to afford him the means of livelihood' (PRO, 1846d: 186); he would be paid a fixed sum of £200, together with board and lodging. When profits after the payment of the rent to Coode exceeded £500, Mott was to get half the net profits as his salary (PRO, 1846d: 185, 187). This clearly provided an incentive to Mott to reduce costs to a minimum.

Mott's need for money meant that he was unable to wait for the asylum to become profitable. Once resident near Haydock, he used his connections and, possibly, the hospitality of the asylum to put his name forward as a candidate for election as District Auditor to the local Poor Law Unions, a post elected by the Guardians. After a run-off with the other leading candidate, Mott was elected to the post, which brought him an additional £379 per annum (HCP, 1847a;Parl. Debates, 1847). This also caused comment when the Haydock Lodge scandal became public (Parl. Debates, 1846a). Showing a resourceful desperation typical of people in severe financial trouble, he seems to have received and retained the audit fees from the Unions directly, while simultaneously receiving payment from the Poor Law Commissioners for his duties. Recovering the double payment from Mott took some time (HCP, 1847a). His presence at the asylum had already diminished: 'except for the first few months, he didn't take active part in management of the asylum' (PRO, 1846d: 20). Following his election, which was estimated to occupy him about 20 weeks in the year, his absences became 'longer and more frequent' (p. 20). Many of the witnesses to the inquiry testified to his detachment from its affairs: he was 'frequently absent, sometimes for a fortnight at a time' (p. 132); 'Mott never looked after business -hardly ever about at all' (p. 3); he was 'not generally speaking here regularly, especially of late' (p. 33); and he was 'really rather detached' (p. 65).

Mott's difficulties were not simply a need for current income, but to redeem debts caused by borrowing to fund poor investments. Legal actions in the years following the Haydock Lodge scandal reveal the depths of the financial difficulties now facing him. On 1 August 1846, he was sued by a Mr Price for the return of £3000 lent to him to invest in the Ratcliffe Brewery. The debt was longstanding, dating back to 1833, and Mott tried to avoid liability by citing the Statute of Limitations, but judgment was entered against him (The Times, 1846a). Price had subsequently been the Master of the Oxford Workhouse, and had resigned while under investigation for unspecified irregularities by the Assistant Poor Law Commissioner, Alfred Austin. That he was then recommended for appointment to the post as Master of the Andover Workhouse by another Assistant Poor Law Commissioner, Henry Parker, was one of the key charges laid against the Poor Law Commission during the Andover Workhouse inquiry (BPP, 1846a). This episode raises obvious questions about relationships between Mott, the other Assistant Poor Law Commissioners and Price, and about the source of Price's wealth, which was well in excess of that expected of someone employed as a Workhouse Master. In August 1848, he was sued for the recovery of £6000 from the estate of his brother-in-law William Hould the elder, which Mott and Elizabeth Hould had been given on trust to invest in government securities or in trading. Mott seems to have defended this action successfully by arguing that the money was lost in the brewery speculation, rather than through investment in Haydock Lodge (The Times, 1848).

Running the asylum

It was thus fortunate for Mott, though not for patients or investors, that he had almost a free hand in operating the asylum. Coode was unable to visit often, and had to conceal his presence at Haydock Lodge (Chadwick Papers, 1846), while his sister, the nominal proprietor, actually lived in Jersey but with a postal address in London (PRO, 1847a: 254-7). The local curate held a service weekly, and the first resident doctors, the only other people of equivalent social status and potential influence, were fleeting presences. The first doctor, a 'young man' named Martin, was dismissed for fighting (PRO, 1846c: 69). Only with the arrival of the third incumbent, Dr George Bullock Portus, did Mott have a rival. Following a breakdown in relations, Mott had Portus removed by accusing him of irregularities leading to some of the problems of the asylum, and persuaded the Lunacy Commissioners to require his dismissal (BPP, 1846b: 9;PRO, 1846a).

This lack of supervision by the Superintendent and proprietor contributed to the casual cruelty of which O. O. Roberts complained. A further factor was the financial regime prompted by Mott's financial needs. This revealed itself in various ways, including the staffing of the asylum. The implication of 'moral treatment' was that there should be more and better trained staff than under traditional regimes (Parry-Jones, 1972: 24). While some have followed W. A. F. Browne's view that asylum attendants were 'the unemployed of other professions' (Scull, 1991: 151), other commentators have suggested that even by the mid-Victorian period, a cadre of professional attendants was emerging (see [START_REF] Wright | The dregs of society?: Occupational patterns of male asylum attendants in Victorian England[END_REF][START_REF] Wright | Asylum nursing and institutional service: a case study of the South of England 1861-1881[END_REF]. The evidence provided by Haydock Lodge is that the pay determined the calibre of the staff. When challenged by O. O. Roberts on the failure to recruit sufficient or satisfactory staff, Mott 'stated it was difficult to get them' (PRO, 1846b: 4). The difficulty might, however, be attributable to Mott's drive to squeeze as much profit from the institution as possible. Low wages would affect the quality of recruitment. When Coode intervened in the asylum management, he felt a better class of keeper was required, and appointed from a list of recently discharged noncommissioned officers from the Army, engaging 'about a dozen' (PRO, 1846d: 193).

As with Peckham, problems with the institutional diet were also evident. The publicity for Haydock Lodge proclaimed that the 'dietary has been fixed under the sanction of the Medical Officers of the Establishment, and will be varied, under their direction, as circumstances may require' (Lancashire Record Office, 1845), but actual arrangements were left in the hands of Mott (PRO, 1846d: 190). His attendants made little attempt to ensure the palatability of the diet. Sometimes the soup would be thinned to ensure there was sufficient (PRO, 1846d: 72), or the stew would not be stirred properly, so some would get a thin stock and others a rich, concentrated meal (PRO, 1846d: 73). By far the least popular meal was the 'rice milk' on Friday. In part, the distaste was cultural; 'it was not a popular dinner because they liked potatoes and meat or the soup better than that' (PRO, 1847b: 114), but problems with the preparation of the rice meal did not help. It was burnt, and not stirred, so some got very thick, others thin (PRO, 1846d: 73). Just as relevant, however, were the shortages of milk which made proper preparation of this meal impossible; the asylum was generally about ten quarts short each day (PRO, 1846d: 131). While the farm provided some milk, the farm buildings had been sacrificed to provide more space for patients, so that there was no possibility of having self-sufficiency (PRO, 1847a: 168). Some tradesmen were reluctant to supply the asylum after bills were left unpaid by Mott (PRO, 1847b: 101-2).

Again, like Peckham, it was suggested that the official dietary tables concealed less adequate provisions. John Lloyd, the former storekeeper denied that any diet table had been shown to Commissioners or Visitors other than the one in use, and swore he never said 'here is a diet table that is shown to the Commissioners, here is one for Visitors and here is the one actually in use' (PRO, 1846d: 129). Nonetheless, Lloyd believed that the dietary at Haydock Lodge was superior in both quantity and quality both to 'that of the peasantry in this neighbourhood' and to those of both Buckingham County Gaol and Knutsford Workhouse, the two other institutions with which he had been connected. At the asylum, the whole carcass of the animal was available for the meal, while elsewhere 'only the coarse bits' were used (PRO, 1846d: 130-1).

Similarly, Haydock emulated Peckham in having a farm attached. There has been some discussion on the role of the work performed by patients in the county asylum system. While the therapeutic value of labour to patients is often stressed in the annual reports of county asylums, other analysts have suggested that the work was more attuned to the needs of the institution and its sponsoring authorities, using effectively captive labour to keep down costs (see Smith, 1999: 227-46). Where private institutions provided for public patients, as at Haydock Lodge and Peckham House, the evidence is unambiguous: the labour of the patients was used to enhance further the profits of the asylum proprietor and manager. At Haydock, the farm was a mixed enterprise -arable, dairy and beef -and patients also worked in the gardens and stable of the house itself. Altogether, the farm, including the asylum land under cultivation, extended to some 500 acres (PRO, 1846d: 190, 86).

The farm and the asylum were separate entities for accounting purposes. This meant that as about 60 acres of land belonging to the asylum lease were cultivated as part of the farm, the farm accounts were charged rent for those acres, but the asylum was then charged for the produce (PRO, 1846d: 191). While some produce such as hay was sold out of the farm to external buyers, the bulk of the produce seems to have been sold to the asylum. This covered both consumables such as beef and milk, and straw, hay and other products. It was claimed that the asylum paid the same price to the farm as to other contractors (p. 190).

A key element of the separate accounting systems, however, was the use by the farm of the labour of the patients, and confused accounts were given of the arrangements. According to Coode, the labour seems to have been valued at about 6d per day on average, and the bailiff credited the asylum with the value of the labour minus the amount actually paid (PRO, 1846d: 87, 193). Other witnesses claimed there was no accounting of labour between the farm and the asylum (p. 103). Whether the farm or the asylum ultimately benefited, the Poor Law authorities got nothing. No 'deduction was made to parishes on account of this labour, it being though[t] that the benefit the men derived from the labour compensated for the profit derived from it' (p. 87). Coode argued that 'I am of opinion that there is not any or very little profit in such labours, as the expense of a double set of keepers to accompany them is nearly equal to any profit arising from their work ' (p. 193).

Aftermath of the scandal

After Coode's resignation from the Poor Law Commission, he moved to Haydock and discovered the extent of Mott's fraud and venality. Even on Mott's own accounts, there was an unexplained deficit of £3,600. 3 An accountant employed by Coode put the sum missing as £6,800 (PRO, 1846d: 48). This was partly misappropriated fees due to the asylum, and partly unpaid bills due to tradesmen. Coode blamed Mott for all his difficulties, but even as late as January 1847 he remained relatively optimistic. Asked how far his problems stemmed from 'Mr Mott's having misappropriated moneys' he replied (PRO, 1847a: 247-8):

A: I believe I should be in no difficulty at all, for all my present difficulties are much less in amount than the amount which disappeared entirely whilst he was there.

Q: Then in fact you believe that you have supplied money sufficient to have paid all the outstanding bills with reference to Haydock if those monies had been properly applied?

A: That is my belief.

To the misappropriation of funds was added an overlay of venality by both the unsupervised staff and by Mott and his family. Free of supervision, some staff raided the asylum larder (PRO, 1847a: 185):

A: I have heard that some persons from the appearance of their coats and their pockets and other suspicious appearances who lodged out of the house have carried away provisions.

Q: From whence do you suppose they got those provisions -from Mrs Mott?

A: No, in all probability by the favours of the cook.

Q: These are workmen employed on the premises?

A: Workmen and male attendants who slept out.

In doing so, they were merely following the example set by Mott and his relatives. Although Mott himself was away frequently, he had taken the opportunity to offer various posts in the asylum to members of his family. Four of Mott's relatives were subsequently dismissed by Coode (PRO, 1846d: 69). They had used the resources liberally, as Coode related:

I have heard tales of whole cart loads of provisions and since I have been at Lowton [his residence near Haydock] persons in that house who served Mr Mott have described the quantity of provision which has been wasted -thrown into the privy -whole legs of mutton -that the quantity of provisions wasted at Lowton was such as to strike anyone with astonishment. (PRO, 1847a: 178-9) According to Coode (PRO, 1847a: 180-2), it was not only Mott himself who was involved:

[Coode] Then the same thing is said loosely about provision being conveyed to a cottage in Haydock.

Q: To whom or what person?

A: To Mr Mott's brother [in-law] and his wife, Mr Mott's sister . . . if provision was abstracted in the way in which some persons alleged that it was, it was possible that after all though the supply to the house was sufficient the supply to some class in the house was not sufficient -. . . Mr Mott might have a motive to restrict the diet of some class of the patients, and of course he had a motive to make the thing a paying establishment.

For most of the period of the scandal, the Poor Law Commission had protested that Mott no longer had any association with them. [but] at the same time it was not an authoritative instruction' (BPP, 1846a: 1094-8). Cornewall Lewis's reaction to Ferrand's attack in The Times was to bring an action against him for 'criminal information', i.e., criminal libel which could result in penal as well as financial penalties. For this, Mott was the vital witness, and by late September Lewis's solicitors were in contact with Mott asking him to give a deposition for the purposes of the action. On 9 October 1846, they explained to Mott the need for his deposition, that Ferrand had charged that Mr Lewis instructed you to make a false Report -and that you having made one Mr Lewis, knowing it to be false, placed it in Sir James Graham's hands -for the purpose of deceiving the Legislature and the Country -Now the fact I wish deposed to by you -always assuming that it is the fact -is that you received no instructions to make a false Reportthat you did not make one -and that your Report was a true and faithful Report on the evidence before you. (HCP, 1846c; original emphasis) Contact with Mott was difficult, not least because he had now moved to the Isle of Man to avoid his creditors, although he continued to visit the mainland to audit Unions. By 20 October, however, he had met White, the solicitor acting for Cornewall Lewis, in London for four hours. Mott had found the note Lewis had sent him, and was prepared to give evidence supporting Lewis's case (HCP, 1846d).

Mott was later apprehended and appeared at the Insolvent Debtors Court in Lancaster on 8 March 1847, describing himself as a 'brewer and commission agent.' He was alleged to owe £25,000, and 'pretended that he had property to the value of £31,000'. His chief creditor was Price (The Times, 1847). He was released after making an arrangement with his creditors. His subsequent career was encapsulated in a gloating Parliamentary question from Ferrand, asking:

Whether they have allowed him to hold the office of district auditor of Lancashire, whilst living in the Isle of Man, out of the way of his creditors; after he was seized by a Sheriff's officer, when on his road to audit the Union accounts; during the time he was a prisoner in Lancaster Castle; and after a public advertisement appeared in The Times warning the public not to pay him money belonging to the Proprietors of the Haydock Lodge Lunatic Asylum? Whether he has again abandoned the discharge of his duties, and left England, although holding the office of district auditor? (Parl. Debates, 1847).

Graham and Cornewall Lewis were to have the last word. The preliminary hearing against Ferrand took place in the Court of Queens Bench on 24 November 1846, with the Lord Chief Justice presiding. This received extensive and critical coverage in The Times (1846f) the following day, with the paper alleging that the proceedings were more political than legal. The case was to progress onwards until late in 1847. From the correspondence in the Harpton Court papers, Sir James Graham was clearly supportive, but also apprehensive about the dependence on Mott's testimony. Writing to Cornewall Lewis in October 1847, he noted the 'weak point in the Ferrand case is the reliance on Mott and I have always found mischief in that direction' (HCP, 1847b). The following month, however, Ferrand conceded, and Graham was congratulating Lewis on having 'done much to silence this brawler for some time to come' (HCP, 1847c).

Even in the midst of his difficulties, Mott retained a belief in his own worth. Shortly after his release from prison he was lobbying Edwin Chadwick to consider him as an Assistant Commissioner for the Health of Towns Commission: I am again free and have recovered my exertion, and this a source of gratification that, all those with whom I came in contact in my District sympathise with me, and express the most kindly feelings towards me. I am about establishing an Office in Manchester as the District Auditors Office, with the chance of getting some accountants business.

No one knows better than you do the sacrifices I have made through my unfortunate zeal to carry out the poor law. I trust that you will not forget me if anything can be confided to me under the Health of Towns Commission of which I hope you will be a Commissioner. Do not forget that with an Office in Manchester, in the midst of all the great Manufacturing Towns with a District comprising, even at the last census, upwards of a million of the population, well acquainted with the localities of the entire district, and known moreover to all the Guardians and Union and Parochial Officers, and with an experience which it falls to the lot of few to obtain, I may be of service to you . . . (Chadwick Papers, 1847; original emphasis) Now, however, his influence had waned with his political usefulness, and further preferment did not occur. The final years of his working life were spent almost as it began, working as a commission agent, in Manchester. He died of apoplexy on 11 May 1851 at Rusholme (General Register Office, 1851).

Coode, meanwhile, though he had lost his post as Assistant Secretary to the Poor Law Commissioners, was not wholly out of official favour. He found some immediate employment as a Parliamentary draftsman (PRO, 1847a: 163). Later, he authored various official reports, including one on the settlement and removal of the poor [1851], on legislative expression [1853] on local taxation [1862] and on fire insurance duties [also 1862]. Further evidence of his continuing favour with politicians and officials came with his appointment in 1853 to be Commissioner for Consolidating the Statute Law and in 1869 to be a member of the Commission of Inquiry into the State of Education in England [START_REF] Boase | Modern English Biography[END_REF]. Nevertheless, George Coode followed Mott into bankruptcy in 1854, after Haydock Lodge had drained his capital (PRO, 1854). He died on 27 September 1869 [START_REF] Boase | Modern English Biography[END_REF].

Conclusion

It has been argued that abuses of the mentally ill in private institutions were most likely to occur in those receiving paupers as well as private patients (Scull, 1993b: 81), and those having non-medical proprietors and senior staff (Parry-Jones, 1977: 82). Haydock Lodge matched both these criteria. This article has suggested, however, that both the causes of the Haydock Lodge scandal and the attention it received were attributable to unique circumstances, primarily linked to the character, financial position and political connections of its first Superintendent, Charles Mott. His physical absence, and attempts to avoid financial ruin by cost-cutting and embezzling the resources of the asylum, precipitated the scandal, while his previous connection with the Poor Law Commission, together with that of the largely absentee proprietor George Coode, intensified public and political interest. The political connection is further emphasized by the subsequent importance of Mott as a witness in the criminal libel case against Ferrand.

Haydock Lodge also had a wider political significance; it directly embarrassed both the Poor Law Commission, whose employee and ex-employee were involved in the promotion and conduct of the establishment, and the Commissioners in Lunacy, whose supervision was brought into question. By emphasizing the issue of the private sector profiting from the care of publicly maintained lunatics over the purely economic debate about the costs involved, it reinforced the arguments for the expansion of the public asylum system. Despite the 1845 Act, private sector asylums still attracted support from those opposed to increased public spending. At the time the scandal erupted, perhaps more pauper patients were housed in private asylums than at any previous time (Scull, 1993b: 78). After 1846 the private institutions with pauper residents started to decline slowly (Scull, 1993b: 81-2). Clearly this is directly attributable to the increase in public sector provision, but by publicizing the disadvantages of the alternative based within the mixed economy of welfare, the Haydock Lodge affair helped to increase acceptance of publicly provided asylums, not just locally (Michael, 2003: 48)

  d be glad if you would communicate to me the results of this inquiry. Pray let me know whether the Union has any & what Workhouse, & what use the Guardians make of it. (HCP, 1842a; original emphasis)

  CornewallLewis wrote to his father that 'Mott has ceased to be an Assistant Commissioner since 1842[but] we are still held responsible for him'(HCP, 1846b). Now, however, just as he was discharged from Haydock Lodge, Mott regained his value to his political patrons, as the Committee of Inquiry into the Andover Union resurrected the long running dispute with Ferrand over the Keighley Union affair. During his evidence to the Committee on 31 July 1846, Henry Parker, a former Assistant Poor Law Commissioner, claimed that it was notorious that a private letter was written to Mott, urging him to go and examine Ferrand's Union (BPP, 1846a: 938). Cornewall Lewis, in his evidence on 4 August, appeared to acknowledge publicly that Mott had indeed been instructed to go to Keighley, saying that he 'may have written to him[Mott] merely suggesting to him to visit the Keighley Union'(BPP, 1846a(BPP, : 1044)). This prompted two letters to The Times from Ferrand, on 8 and 10 August(The Times, 1846b[START_REF] St | ) MH 51/743, Haydock Lodge, evidence of witnesses suggested[END_REF]. When the reaction from Ferrand became clear, Lewis quickly sought to qualify and explain his evidence, telling the Committee on 12 August that the letter he had written 'was not necessarily official', though Mott 'would not have neglected attending to it,

  but also in the national context. Notes 1. PRO, MH 51/738-746, Minutes of evidence taken before the Metropolitan Commissioners in Lunacy. These files, which are not numbered sequentially, relate to three separate inquiries by the Commissioners. MH 51/738 and MH 51/740-743 are verbatim records of witnesses examined in July 1846; MH 51/746 consists of abbreviated notes on sworn statements by witnesses made in Oct. 1846; MH 51/745 is largely material used to draft the Further Report; MH 51/739 and MH 51/744 are the surviving parts of verbatim records of examinations of George Coode (only part of which survives) and Dr George Bullock Portus in Jan. 1847. From the content of these, there are other interviews which have not survived. There is no extant evidence from Mott. 2. Personal communication, 15 July 1998, from N. M. Plumley, Curator and Archivist, Christ's Hospital, Horsham. 3. Making comparisons of value has many methodological flaws, but for illustrative purposes the purchasing power of £1000 in 1846 is equivalent, by one method of calculation, to £66,326 in 2001 (House of Commons, 2002).

Acknowledgements

The research on which this article is based was funded by the Wellcome Trust (grant 038862). The author would like to thank Dr Pamela Michael and two anonymous referees for their comments and suggestions, and Magdalena Gorrell Guimaraens and David Gardner-Medwin for information about George Coode.


Katherine Angel, Edgar Jones and Michael Neve (Editors). European

Psychiatry on the Eve of War: Aubrey Lewis, the Maudsley Hospital and the Rockefeller Foundation in the 1930s. London: Medical History, Supplement No. 22, 2003. Pp. vi + 189. ISBN 0-85484-092-3. £32.00 (hb).

Rather like a torchlight beam illuminating a previously dark corner, this detailed account of European psychiatry in 1937 has emerged anew from the obscurity of more than 60 years. Its author was Sir Aubrey Lewis (AJL), who was financed by the Rockefeller Foundation to make this tour at the leisurely pace of the 1930s, but because he became ill in Sweden for some weeks, the whole journey occupied nearly six months. What happened to the lengthy report is uncertain, we are told by the editors; it is said to have been read with interest at the Foundation, but was never published. Because of AJL's brutally frank comments on some of the people and places he visited, this could not have been done without substantial editing. Possibly the outbreak of war in 1939 made publication seem inappropriate.

The report occupies 90 pages here and is followed by a biographical register describing most of the individuals mentioned in it; there are also helpful footnotes, outlining the history of psychiatry in each country. In this pre-politically-correct era, the interviewees are described by AJL collectively as 'men', though a few are identified as women.

There are two other substantial contributions in this volume -one by Edgar Jones on 'Aubrey Lewis, Edward Mapother and the Maudsley' and the second by Katherine Angel on 'Aubrey Lewis's 1938 Report and the Rockefeller Foundation'. Both are lucidly written and enormously informative; neither should be missed by anyone with a concern for the history of British psychiatry. Perhaps the material on Mapother will be of particular interest because, in general, so little is known about him.

Mapother, an Irishman, was the first Professor of Psychiatry (albeit only part-time) at London University and the first to be appointed in England (although not in Scotland). Otherwise, he was perhaps more remarkable for what he was not -not an interesting writer, not the originator of any significant ideas, not a fluent speaker and not a good leader of a team. His

Book Reviews

History of Psychiatry, 16( 1 portrait in the library of the Institute of Psychiatry has struck me as a suitable illustration for a text on depressive psychosis. Rather similarly, a 'portrait photograph' of AJL from 1942, reproduced in the book (p. 30), shows him gloomily contemplating a large pair of scissors in his hands; life at the top of the Maudsley was evidently no bundle of fun.

Mapother kept his eye firmly on the goal of creating a centre of scientific excellence in a country where postgraduate psychiatry was virtually nonexistent. But the London County Council, which owned the Maudsley, had no more money to spare, the government took little responsibility for higher education or scientific research, and private charities were sparse. He therefore turned to the only other possible source of help -the Rockefeller Foundation. Fortunately for Mapother, the Foundation was concentrating on medicine, and particularly on psychiatry. On the other hand, Alan Gregg, their key figure, was not confident of the Maudsley's ability to pull itself up scientifically by its bootstraps. Not, that is, until three outstanding Germans -dismissed in the interests of the (euphemistically described) 'national consolidation' -were desperately searching for a safe place to continue their life and work. Rockefeller paid for them to come to the Maudsley for several years, and Gregg felt there was now sufficient expertise to invest more resources there. AJL had already been identified by Mapother as his successor, and the European tour was probably seen, both by Mapother and Rockefeller, as a suitable preparation for this role.

AJL tactfully states that he did not include Germany in his tour, as he had studied there a few years earlier. He does not explain, however, that as a Jew such a visit would have been intolerable in 1937 and, in any case, the dismissal of so many outstanding academics and clinicians would have made it a frustrating business. But it's an ill wind … Summarizing the densely packed pages of the report is far from easy, but one of the most interesting sections is on Russia; as it was for most Westerners, Lewis's visit was limited to Moscow and Leningrad. Although 1937 was the opening year of the Great Terror, it is uncertain from AJL's discreet prose how much he was aware of this. His rather pained surprise, though, that certain people he particularly wanted to see were 'unavailable', or that a different excuse for this was offered every day, suggest that he had not been forewarned about the obfuscations of this totalitarian system. At that time, very few foreigners were aware of them. He was not able to see the outstanding scientist of the time there -Luria -who was in political disgrace and becoming an 'unperson'. Like most of the leading workers in Moscow, he was a Jew, although this is not mentioned.

About Vienna, however, AJL does mention 'dismissals on purely political and racial grounds' and reports that responsible people there seemed 'concerned at the way in which the level of scientific work is sinking'. Although describing that he 'got in touch with the psychoanalytical group around Freud', there is no explanation of why the two never met. Since Freud spoke excellent English (and AJL spoke German), an encounter between the two might have been a memorable one. However, Anna Freud is said to have been 'active and sensible' in work with children. Stengel -who was later to join AJL at the Maudsley -is described as practically the only analyst still working at the university clinic. Lewis's shrewd summing up was that analysts there 'treat character disturbances very much more than actual neurotic illness' and that consequently 'they are not much interested in therapy and practical problems of the out-patient department'. Some of AJL's critics would later say similar things about him, however.

Altogether, the state of European psychiatry -specifically in its postgraduate and scientific aspects -was not found to be encouraging. It was partly a problem of boundaries. Nearly everywhere, the relationship with neurology was a barrier to the emergence of psychiatry as a respectable and independent discipline. In Britain, those doctors dealing with mental health who were of higher status emphasized their role in the Royal Colleges of Physicians, and so had an identity crisis about being psychiatrists. Mapother urged trainees to obtain the MRCP, although the pass rate was then under 10%. In most countries, neurology was firmly in the ascendant in academic centres. The second boundary was with mental hospitals, and it was mostly an impermeable one, so that clinical case material in academic centres was limited -as was trainees' experience. There were a few outstanding exceptions, such as Gjessing's research at a mental hospital outside Oslo.

This volume is a rich historical seam. It was written at a time when physical treatment methods were beginning to emerge and so end the long night of therapeutic nihilism that had separated psychiatry from more hopeful aspects of medicine. Sakel's first account of insulin coma had just been published, but was not yet widely known. ECT was to come in two years' time. Revisiting this time-sample, with its detailed information and accompanying commentaries, is a significant step in the historical understanding of modern psychiatry. The editors are to be congratulated on bringing it to us. The Norfolk Lunatic Asylum, or St Andrew's Hospital as it later became, was relatively unique in its longevity. Established following the permissive legislation of 1808 and opened in 1814, it was one of the pioneer county lunatic asylums. It was also one of the last of the great nineteenth-century asylums to be abandoned, at the end of the twentieth century. As Steven

  ): 129-135 Copyright © 2005 SAGE Publications (London, Thousand Oaks, CA and New Delhi) www.sagepublications.com [200503] DOI: 10.1177/0957154X05051203

  HUGH FREEMAN Green College, Oxford Steven Cherry. Mental Health Care in Modern England: The Norfolk Lunatic Asylum / St Andrew's Hospital c.1810-1998. Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2003. Pp. xi + 335. ISBN 0 85115920 6. £45.


Keywords: concepts, German Materialism, history, idealism, Lotze, medical psychology, philosophy, psychology, 19th century

Hermann Lotze (1817-81) is a neglected figure in the history of psychiatry although it has been claimed that his early views were influential, for example, on the young Griesinger. Trained as a physician, psychologist and philosopher he saw better than many the impending epistemological crisis that was to affect disciplines such as psychology and medical psychology as they were being taken over by the natural sciences. The problem he endeavoured to resolve was doubleheaded. On the one hand, Lotze believed that the mechanisms proposed by physiology and other relevant natural sciences were essential to the explanation of human behaviour provided that its meaning and context were respected; on the other, he wanted to do away with mysterious (metaphysical) explanations such as 'vital force' which in his time were still popular in biology. The solutions he eventually offered can understandably be seen as a weak compromise and one which satisfied no one. Materialists à outrance such as Vogt, Büchner, Lange and Ribot though he was too 'metaphysical'; spiritualist philosophers believed that he had surrendered too much to biology. It is likely that Lotze remained, in fact, a metaphysician as can be ascertained by studying his concept of Seele (soul, mind) into which he packed enough furniture to make many believe that he was an idealist thinker. This paper discusses some of these issues and justifies the choice of classic text, namely, Lotze's

illuminating Introduction to his book

The medico-psychological ideas of R. H. Lotze have been neglected by historians of psychiatry. 1 This is the more surprising for directly and indirectly Lotze's philosophy was influential on nineteenth-century psychology and psychiatry. 2 Fashion remains a controlling factor in all walks of life, and one wonders whether Wittgenstein's jibe that Lotze 'shouldn't have been allowed to write philosophy' (Rhees, 1981: 120-1) might have dissuaded some from studying Lotze's writings.

The man

The son of an army surgeon, Rudolph Hermann Lotze was born on 21 May 1817 in Bautzen (currently located in the Free State of Saxony, Germany). After attending the Gymnasium of Zittau (to where the family had moved), Lotze read medicine, philosophy, psychology, physics and mathematics at Leipzig University where he became a disciple of E. H. Weber, W. Volckmann, G. T. Fechner and C. H. Weisse. Aged 24, he was made an 'instructor' at his university and published his Metaphysik (Lotze, 1841), 3 which included a section on 'Psychology'. In 1842 his Allgemeine Pathologie und Therapie als Mechanische Naturwissenschaften 4 appeared, and two years later he was appointed to J. F. Herbart's chair at Göttingen. In 1852 he published Medicinische Psychologie oder Physiologie der Seele, 5 perhaps his more important work on the philosophy of mind. Called to Berlin in 1881, he died from a chest infection on 1 July 1881, three months after taking up the chair [START_REF] Pester | Einleitung[END_REF]. Lotze published a large number of works, 6 but in the context of this introduction we shall refer only to that part of his work linking medicine, psychology and philosophy. One of his students and biographers, [START_REF] Rehnisch | Herman Lotze: sa vie et ses écrits[END_REF], believed that Lotze's interest in philosophy had been encouraged by his love for poetry (which he wrote as a youngster). Rehnisch (1881) also suggested that Lotze's decision to read medicine was motivated by filial duty.

Lotze did not form a school of thought in the conventional sense of this term 7 but during his lifetime and for a time after his death his ideas were influential within and outwith Germany. For example, W. Windelband, a well known neo-Kantian German philosopher, and also T. Mertz, W. Wundt, W. Dilthey, H. Rickert and M. Scheler were inspired by his ideas. Likewise, in 1870 James Ward, who was to become Professor of Moral Philosophy at Cambridge [START_REF] Campbell | Memoir[END_REF], attended his lectures at Göttingen and considered Lotze as his teacher. 8 B. Bosanquet who edited and translated some of his work was also influenced by Lotze's ideas [START_REF] Devaux | Lotze et son influence sur la philosophie Anglo-saxonne, contribution à l'étude historique et critique de la notion de valeur[END_REF]. In the USA, those touched by Lotze's views included W. James [START_REF] Kraushaar | Lotze's influence on the psychology of William James[END_REF], J. M. [START_REF] Cattell | Early psychological laboratories[END_REF], 9 J. Royce [START_REF] Cotton | Royce on the Human Self[END_REF], and also G. [START_REF] Santayana | Lotze's System of Philosophy, edited with an introduction[END_REF] who wrote his Harvard doctoral thesis on Lotze's philosophy.

Philosophical background

Lotze cannot be easily placed into any of the schools of philosophy reigning in Europe during the second half of the nineteenth century. Although he has often been characterized as a bridge-builder, on closer inspection his views are positive, determined and always have a clear objective. On the one hand, he realized the importance of the new epistemological approach offered by the natural sciences but had no truck with vitalism and the old metaphysics which still characterized biology during the 1840s. On the other, he thought and wrote within a specific religious space, and this limited his conceptual manoeuvring. We do not know what his final philosophical synthesis might have been (his untimely death prevented the completion of his work) but what he left behind should be read with attention by those working in disciplines which, like psychology and psychiatry, are conceptually hybrid.

Hybrid disciplines are those which have grown in the shadowy interstice or no man's land existing between the natural and human sciences. Their central questions are posed within a space of personalized semantics, for they concern meaning and reasons for human behaviour. History and fashion, however, have since the nineteenth century determined that to be complete their accounts must be linked with physical nature, that is, with the brain. Unfortunately, the systems of description and explanation which have since developed to study the latter are totally unable to handle meaning, in any real sense. All that one can hope for is the identification of statistical 'correlations' holding proxy variables together. The latter are chosen to 'represent' the two realms of meaning and brain. The problem is that the epistemology of proxyhood remains understudied, and in spite its popularity in current science it may not be sufficient to deal with the problem of the relationship between meanings and the brain. 10 The problem is made worse by the fact that in the field of neuropsychiatry there is an increasing contempt for meaning. Whether due to conceptual insensitivity and impatience with ideas, ignorance, excessive 'pragmatic' drive or fashion, researchers believe that they can 'reduce' (the current term is 'naturalize') meaning by making it tantamount to a brain mechanism, simpliciter. The required return journey from the brain to meaning is no longer considered as needed. This was (in Lotze's time) and remains the central problem of the hybrid disciplines.

Lotze tried to resolve the problem by incorporating into the equation explanations provided by the natural sciences 11 and by resisting the acceptance of prima facie 'traditional' accounts 12 of life in general or the psyche in particular in terms of a 'vital force'. 13 From this perspective, the conventional view that Lotze was too much of a scientist to accept idealism and too much of a spiritualist to allow a free reign to materialism and mechanism is probably simplistic. 14 The general aspects of Lotze's philosophy have been well studied [START_REF] Hartmann | Lotze's Philosophie[END_REF][START_REF] Jones | A Critical Account of the Philosophy of Lotze[END_REF][START_REF] Pfleiderer | Lotze's philosophische Weltanschauung nach ihren Grundzügen[END_REF][START_REF] Santayana | Lotze's System of Philosophy, edited with an introduction[END_REF][START_REF] Stählin | From Folk Psychology to Cognitive Science[END_REF][START_REF] Sullivan | Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy[END_REF][START_REF] Thomas | Lotze's Theory of Reality[END_REF]etc.).

Between 'soul' and 'mind'

Central to Lotze's philosophy is the notion of Seele. 15 Without understanding the ontological and epistemological role played by this concept in Lotze's philosophy of mind it is difficult to assess his contribution to psychology and psychiatry. The way in which Lotze's ideas were viewed during the second half of the nineteenth century is more important to the historian of psychiatry than the exegesis of today. This is because such early interpretations influenced the formulation of those psychiatric concepts which still govern psychiatry in our own time. Twenty-first-century philosophical views of Lotze's work, important as they may be, are more relevant to the history of philosophy 16 than that of psychiatry.

As Krestoff (1890) has shown, with Lotze the term 'soul' loses much of its mystical and religious meaning (for example, it is no longer related to the issue of immortality). A polysemic German term [START_REF] Grimm | Das Deutsches Wörterbuch[END_REF], Seele can only be adequately translated if the context and the writer's intentions (both avowed and unavowed) are taken into account. 17 Lotze made good use of the various meanings of Seele, and on account of this his usage has been considered as 'transitional', i.e., as meaning neither 'soul' (in the religious way) nor 'mind' in the psychological one. 18 Villa (1903: 34) captured this well:

The material processes according to Lotze are only symbols which, being translated by the soul into a language proper to itself, produce sensations. The latter constitute the material upon which the higher mental faculties exert their activity, manifesting themselves even in the absence of any concomitant cerebral phenomenon. The material processes are not the cause, but the effect of mental processes . . .

If this interpretation sounds too biased towards idealism, Wentscher (1915: 148) himself wrote:

Souls themselves, however, were likewise conceived as 'actions of the world-ground' but as specially distinguished by their admirable and at bottom inexplicable capacity of feeling and knowing themselves as the active centres of an out-flowing life And so did Windelband (1958: 644): 19 His own attitude [Lotze's] is best characterized by its conception of knowledge as a vital and purposive interaction between the soul and the other 'substances'. The 'reaction' of the soul is combined with the excitation which proceeds from 'things'. On the one side, the soul develops its own nature in the forms of perception, and in the general truths which come to consciousness with immediate clearness and evidence on the occasion of the stimulus from things; on the other hand, the participation of the subject makes the world of ideas a phenomenal appearance

The translation

In the translation which follows, Lotze (1852) listed the problems that he was going to deal with in the rest of the book. For example, he distinguishes between practical and scientific psychology, the former dealing with the same problems currently debated under the rubric 'Folk Psychology' (e.g., Christensen and Turner, 1993;Stitch, 1983). Lotze believed that scientific psychology had a deeper understanding of man than practical psychology for it possessed knowledge of underlying mechanisms and powers. The latter went beyond reasons or meanings for behaviour to capture 'causes', a concept which is fully meaningful only in terms of a biological, mechanistic, substratum of behaviour. Lotze seemed to prefer a model of science fully based on the epistemological structure taken of the natural sciences, that is one in which, on the basis of general principles or foundations, many theoretical inferences and empirical hypotheses could be drawn. Predicting the future on the basis of a limited amount of observations was not sufficient according to Lotze, and this is why practical psychology could never be a real science. Lotze was writing at a time when statistics and probability were not yet providing the epistemological basis of discovery and justification in science and hence needed another evidential basis. He felt that these bases could not be provided by induction alone and he struggled hard to find an alternative. His mind was deep enough, however, to realize that science is practised by people, and that culture remains the medium in which all scientific narratives take place: 'We shall not lose sight of the fact that there are cultural elements (Elementen der Bildung) which from outside physiology govern the thinking of all human beings and which as a person and as a professional the scientist ignores at his peril' (Lotze, 1852: 8).

Notes

1. An important exception is [START_REF] Verwey | Psychiatry in an Anthropological and Biomedical Context[END_REF]. 2. Flugel (1964: 70) wrote: His most influential work on psychology was, however, his Medicinische Psychologie, published in 1852. In this book he stressed the view, as Bain did three years later, that the mind and the nervous system must be studied in relation to one another. At the same time he held that physiology could never afford an explanation of the mind -a position which, as Murphy remarks, seems a common place to us today, but which was perhaps a wise admonishment at a time when the rapid growth of knowledge on the physiological side was beginning to prove a little intoxicating to the materialistically minded. To Lotze also belongs the credit of being among the first to realize the importance for human psychology of the study of the animal mind and of abnormal conditions . . .

On the influence of Lotze on Griesinger, one of the most quoted writers in the history of psychiatry, see Wahrig-Schmidt, 1985. 3. An English rendition (1887) is available. The general editor was Bernard Bosanquet and translators included T. H. Green, C. A. Whittuck, A. C. Bradley, J. C. Wilson. 4. As far as I know there is no English translation of this work. 5. As far as I know there is no English translation of this work, one of his last psychological/ medical writings. 6. See [START_REF] Santayana | Lotze's System of Philosophy, edited with an introduction[END_REF]. 7. Külpe (1913: 172) wrote: 'Lotze did not found a real school. For this he lacked a closed system, which elaborated by prophetic fantasy, could answer the bold and persistent demands of the intellect'. 8. A. H. Murray (1937: 147), in his excellent book, calls Lotze 'Ward's philosophical father'. 9. 'It was my privilege to hear the last course of lectures on psychology by Lotze given at Göttingen in the winter semester of 1880-81' [START_REF] Cattell | Early psychological laboratories[END_REF]. 10. For a discussion of the problem of proxyhood, see Berrios andMarková, 2002a. 11. Lotze (1885: 72) cannot accept that inert matter by itself can generate the spirit, and posits the existence of a peculiar form of matter which might:

A materialist, therefore, which assumed that a spiritual life could spring out of simply physical conditions or motions of bodily atoms would be an empty assumption, and, in this form, has hardly ever been advocated in earnest. The materialistic views which have really had adherents have proceeded from the premise that what we call matter is really better than it externally appears. It contains in itself the fundamental peculiarity out of which the spiritual conditions may develop just as well as physical predicates.

(For a further discussion of the plain versus baroque concepts of matter and their relationship to the mind, see Berrios and Marková, 2002b.) At the end of the nineteenth century, the problem of how matter can generate mind was reanalysed in terms of 'emergent evolution' [START_REF] Morgan | Introduction to Comparative Psychology[END_REF], and during the second half of the twentieth century as the process of 'supervenience' [START_REF] Kim | Supervenience and the Mind[END_REF]. 12. Lotze's views on popular accounts of human behaviour, nowadays discussed under the heading of 'Folk Psychology', are worth reading in detail. The translation that follows mentions his views briefly. 13. Lotze is conventionally described as the philosopher who dealt the coup de grâce to the concept of vital force (e.g., [START_REF] Schnädelbach | Philosophy in Germany 1831-1933[END_REF] for a general background to the debate, see [START_REF] Gregory | Scientific Materialism in Nineteenth Century Germany[END_REF]. 14. This is the way, for example, in which Ribot (1879: 75) characterizes his position: 'Lotze can be considered as one of the main representatives of the doctrine called in Germany Idealrealismus, a term applied to those who maintain an intermediate position between idealism and realism'. In this same regard, a contemporary commentator has called Lotze the 'last of the natural metaphysicians' [START_REF] Reed | From Soul to Mind. The Emergence of Psychology from Erasmus Darwin to William James[END_REF] 15. Like soul in English or l'âme in French, this term can be variously translated into English according to historical period and according to whether the interpreter takes a religious (soul), psychological (mind) or philosophical perspective (self, spirit). All in all, the most apposite translation is likely to be 'mind'. 16. The historiography of philosophy is complex and remains an unresolved problem. In general, Anglo-Saxon histories of philosophy tend to be less historically contextualized than Continental ones. In an excellent article [START_REF] Passmore | Philosophy, historiography of[END_REF] identified six methods in terms of which the history of philosophy can be written: polemical, doxographical, history as the passage of truth, classificatory, cultural, and problem-centred. [START_REF] Windelband | A History of Philosophy II[END_REF] book is a good example of the 'problem-centred' approach.

Classic Text No. 61

Excerpt from Medicinische Psychologie oder Physiologie der Seele by Dr Rudolph Hermann Lotze

Since antiquity, natural observation has considered an acute attack of illness to be preferable to a long lasting, chronic one. A strong shock, sufficient to disturb our state of normality, either kills us or provokes a prompt, equally strong reaction. Minor disorders, on the other hand, undermine life for they are not strong enough to trigger an adequate bodily defence. It has been plausibly claimed that the same applies to matters spiritual: indeed, not only to our psychological life but also to our efforts to search for the truth. Garnering knowledge piecemeal and at a time of life when we cannot yet discern, is beneficial neither to the march of science nor to individual progress. However, when met with at an optimal time of cultivation and experience, facts can be fully understood and learned. If too late or desultorily presented the same facts elicit only slow and superficial learning. This happens because dispersed impressions never achieve the force to stimulate bold responses. This explains why knowledge of the mental (Erkenntnis des Seelenlebes) has grown at a slower pace than that of other sciences. In the area of the mental we seem unable to organize in a scientific manner the profound experiences we have access to. From childhood, interactions with our surroundings (Umgebung) offer us the possibility of making countless observations about the way in which our mind works. However, obeying our instinctual knowledge we only extract from such manifold of experiences those which are of practical relevance to us. The scientific attitude that would cause us to ponder over first causes cannot compete with the growth of our practical intelligence. In each individual, this practical purview of the mental is thus recreated anew. Gaps in the manifold of experience are then filled by psychological observations borrowed from history and art. This practical human knowledge (Menschenkenntnis), however, does not constitute a science of the mind nor can it become one.

Science endeavours to explain the origin and mechanisms of experiences rather than just extract practical guidelines, so the general observations that reflective persons extract from their rich mental life cannot be considered as scientific. Ideally, the guidelines themselves should be based on the observation of numerous mental phenomena; given the state of incompletion of the science of the mind, however, such guidelines are inferred from a small number of experiences. They work because behaviour can often be predicted in practice by just applying a formula inferred from repeated observation showing that some cause is often followed by some effect; indeed, such a formula does not need to include deep knowledge about the mechanisms that underlie the connection between causes and effects. Besides, the formula in question is not meant to be infallible for randomness is in fact part of the way we relate to events in the world. This is why incomplete observations suffice in practical life.

Our knowledge of mankind is uncertain and few expect that such a practical approach will ever be fully replaced by true science. The mind (Seele) remains impenetrable whether to the teacher who wants to shape it, the doctor who wants to cure it from a mental disorder, or the spiritual tutor who wants to guide it out of a moral dilemma. The interesting point here is that all three experts perform with instinctive assurance (instinctiver Sicherheit) and deal effectively with a variety of human events (Ereignisse) which in themselves are so complex that they escape the understanding and control of science. Although repeated observation tells them how the mind works, they still cannot answer an all important question, namely, what elementary forces provide the energy and binding power to make behaviour possible? Based on the intuitions of the human heart and vignettes of life carried by the classical literature, our century has accepted certain views about the human mind and considered them as forming part of empirical psychology. This in spite of the fact that such views, when divested of their seductive garb, appear as totally insufficient to constitute a true science of the mind.

This mental life (geistige Dasein) of which we only know its manifestations rather than its foundations has for a long time been the object of scientific interest. Efforts to understand it have been hampered by the rush with which each generation tries to reach its own conclusions based upon a small number of facts and by the fact that some of the essential components of mental life are studied by the natural sciences which, as it is known, have developed late in our culture. However, the current lack of success should not discourage researchers from believing that they will eventually achieve something. Not that we should attribute to ourselves higher mental powers than those of our predecessors; simply that the progress in the natural sciences witnessed this century is extraordinary and may better guide the way we ask and deal with certain questions.

The real threat to knowledge does not come from a fundamental obscurity of the subject matter of the mind but from the fate to which all psychological theories seem subjected, namely, that our familiarity with human nature and with the contents of our awareness encourages us to believe that we know it all already and that science can add nothing to this knowledge. But like all notions derived from our personal experience those relating to our inner life are also grounded on a simplistic metaphysics (unfertigen Metaphysik). Based upon these old observational habits and with less judgement than sense, we are prone to use our prejudices to oppose the just claims that the more reflective observers of human behaviour tend to make. Hypotheses that appear clear and useful to common sense may be found to be false by philosophical analysis, whereas questions which to the superficial eye appear as insoluble can be fully resolved by science. Currently, the situation is such that while questions in the physical world can be resolved on the basis of incontrovertible principles those in the realm of the mind cannot because there is a lack of foundations. This allows a free rein where each person follows his own fantasies and decides according to his character, nature and capacities.

We must thus remind ourselves that psychology, like the rest of the sciences, includes questions which remain unresolved and on which only opinions can be expressed. Like the other sciences, however, psychology should be based on general principles. The skill of those researching in physiology resides in developing such principles and extracting important practical consequences. As far as constructing the principles themselves, however, those researchers are no different from simple students.

We shall inquire into the relationship between mind and body (geistigen und des körperlicher Lebens) inasmuch as it illuminates the therapeutic endeavour. We hope that this practical objective will help our readers to persevere. Due to so many fruitless attempts to resolve it, the subject of our interest has lost much of its freshness. In the midst of this confusion and falsity, we will present those ideas which we consider as correct and capable of further development. Our truth will be different from the extreme and whimsical views (extremen und capriciösen Ansichten) currently put forward to reanimate the subject at hand. On the one hand, our explanation of the mechanisms of the mind will agree with what the natural sciences have to say; and on the other it will steer clear of all ethical and religious questions which have their own rightful and autonomous place in the science of the mind. We shall put together the general principles that so far have been obtained by means of psychological research without taking sides or becoming committed to any specific philosophical language or school. When doing so, however, we shall not lose sight of the fact that there are cultural elements (Elementen der Bildung) which from outside physiology govern the thinking of all human beings and which as a person and as a professional the scientist ignores at his peril.